We All Fall Down
Part Five
Hi there,
This is the fifth part of my novella We All Fall Down.
To read part four:
“It’s all a bit sad isn’t it, really?” Tristan said, breaking the silence. “But let’s never mind such things, there’s the day to be living in”
“That’s what I find strange.”
“What’s that?”
Jack, dry tracks of tears evident in the new morning sun, “Your generation. I don’t mean to be rude, or; no ruder than I need to be. But your generation believe there’s nothing wrong with you. What’s mad is that everything you’ve said on this cold doorstep, everything you’ve said all evening is about your mental health. That it’s always been there.”
“No, I disagree. I get sad sometimes, absolutely, but all thing new-fangled nonsense is just silly to me.”
“You are a depressed man, Tristan. That’s what you are. Just like me.”
“I disagree. Your generation - all ADHD nutcases with every problem under the sun. Hold your tongue, move on. If I’m depressed, then everyone’s depressed, aren’t they? But you, you’re free! You get to do whatever you want! That’s the beaut of it all.”
There’s a long silence. Tristan goes on. ”Oh and with everyone identifying as this and that and whatever. Is there no standard any more? Why can’t we all just agree for no more nonsense, honestly - I find the whole thing ridiculous.”
Jack pulls away, a smirk.
“Wouldn’t you have loved, in your youth, to be free of all that? All the labels, to be free, to love who ever you wanted. You’d never hurt or been hurt, or terrified or stuck or trapped. Or isolated, and lonely, you could’ve been free. Why would begrudge anyone that? Tristan, you can still have that.”
“But there’s a limit to how much silliness we should put up with, no?”
“No, not if for one second it made someone’s life just a little bit better. I invite the silly, I think it’s all a miracle.”
“You’re maybe right, I am jealous. I’m sad I never got to experience these things. The eace of loving who I wanted, not having to hide, or to hate people that were just like me. Or to hate myself. My life would have been a lot less lonely.”
“So why do it to yourself?”
“I think tonight I realise that I’m not angry at myself. I thought, for the longest time, I was nothing but angry. But it isn’t that. I’ve sat so long alone but now I see it, clear as this morning sun. Grief. I am grieving a life I never lived.”
“And you have done for whole time you’ve been alive.”
Tristan takes a moment before continuing.
“You can’t find peace by avoiding life. I see that. You have to take it head on, to love it and cherish it. I know that…”
“And you can obtain that, too, Tristan. I know you hate yourself for what you did, but it was never a prison sentence.”
“I know what I want.” ”I know what you want, too. You want to wake up in the morning with your lover, your boyfriend. Or, I suppose at your age you’d call him your partner. You want to wake in the morning and make coffee for your partner, and hold his hand.”
Tristan smiles wryly.
“Don’t you see a version of life that’s like that for you?”
Jack shakes his head.
“Maybe I’m being overly sensitive, but I really don’t. I hope I never fall in love again. I let people down so often. I don’t know if I mean to, it just happens. It’s just who I am. The amount of people I’ve hurt by simply not being there, or choosing not to be there. We say ‘prioritise yourself’, we say ‘take care of number one’ but if you do that over and over, they’ll only be one of us left. It’s stupid. I’ve enough love in my heart for more than just me. I just don’t know where to put it, or who to put it in - so to speak.”
Jack smiles to himself before
“Sometimes I feel like a rabid dog, or that I’m still 9 years old. I don’t know where to run, or how to handle any of it. So I let people down, over and over again.”
“I hear you, Jack, I do”
Jack and Tristan smile at each other.
“I feel like you really do. What an evening this has been, eh?”
Tristan smiles.
“Oh, absolutely. Do you still think I’m fat and ugly?”
“The light out here is a lot kinder than it was upstairs.”
Tristan smiles, it might be the best he’s going to get.
They both look up towards the sunshine sky.
“I’ve decided something.” Jack exclaimed
“Oh?” ”I need to stay young forever. I haven’t a choice. I need to freeze time, or myself, or both as it is right now. I need depravity and saying the wrong thing, and pushing everyone away, and being angry all the fucking time. Want to know why? Because if I don’t, I’ll start to decay. Like a fruit, slowly wilting in the bowl. My body’ll break down, and I’ll disperse every fibre into wet fleshy puddles. So I need to stay young, just like this, and keep lying to everyone, and to myself. Because, Tristan, honestly? It’s all just a bit too much, and know how to do this bit well.”
“Where did the black eye and the bloody knuckles come from, Jack?”
“From trying to convince a man to cheat on his boyfriend”
A knowing silence Jack continued “I like the way it stings around my cheekbones. He landed a great punch. I hope there’s more of them. More black eyes, more questionably drugs in public toilets. I hope I get fucked by 1000 strangers before I die. But failing that, I hope I die in a burning building, or having my body torn limb from limb by hungry wolves or charlatan’s with scheming eyes. And all of it I hope happens before I start wasting away. But I’ve said this, and the world’s a little worse for it.”
“You’re a drama queen”
“Proudly”
Tristan, groaning as he does, stands up. He offers a hand to Jack, helping him to his feet.
“Listen, it’s 6:15AM, it’s Friday morning. I’ve got to be at work at 9AM. I’m not kicking you out, I’m suggesting breakfast.”
“You cooking?”
“Absolutely not. I don’t remember the last time I cooked for someone. There’s a greasy spoon just down the way. You stay here, have you got everything?”
Jack nods
“Then I’ll be back in just a moment”
Tristan unlocks the door and steps inside, leaving the door ajar. Jack, the burning thought still in his mind, walks around the dustbin, slowly - almost hoping. He looks down at the poor, bloodied fox, who almost sits upright, body rigid, mouth agape - dead.
Kneeling down, Jack' get’s close to the Fox, noticing flies in the spaces where it’s eyes should be.
Jack waves his hand in front of the fox’s face, encouraging the flies to disperse. Two cavernous holes, dark - air-for-eyes. ‘How sad it is that the dead must walk through death with not sight’ Jack thought. ‘Am I walking through death?’ his internal monologue continued ‘I can see the brick walls, and the sunshine, and the bloodstained fur of this poor fucker, but I don’t know what I can actually see. I don’t think I can see anything. Maybe the flies have got to me already, maybe by degeneration has started already. Destroy me. That’s what I wan’t. But not today, I’ve got breakfast to eat’. Tristan, closing the door, walks over to Jack, looks down at the the dead fox.
“Oh, that’s sad.” a pause Shall we?”
They pace up the road, another cigarette. Standing and waiting by the greasy spoon door, fags on the floor, in they go.
Thank you for taking the time to read this. If you enjoyed it, or want to know what happens next, hit subscribe.
Until next time,
RC Stacey