Empty Inside



  Empty Inside

  Published by Collins York at Smash Words

  Copyright 2016 Collins York

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Table of Contents

  Torment of Guilt

  Vanilla Dr. Pepper

  That Poor Girl

  About the Author

  Torment of Guilt

  Index: The Nine Levels of Hell, as described in Inferno from Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy

  First Circle of Hell - Limbo

  Pushing my son. Not accepting a single report card grade lower than an A. Demanding the institution of learning to come first. Creating a divide between him and his friends. Locking him away from the world. Our home was a compound. We did not live in it. We existed.

  Second Circle of Hell – Lust

  My son found out about my affair. I betrayed his mother. He despised me. I don’t blame him for hating me.

  I made off-color remarks a few times about other women. I taught him that it’s okay to objectify them.

  Third Circle of Hell – Gluttony

  My wife and I were out drinking that night. We came home to an empty house. He left us a note. Maybe we drank too much. Maybe we went out too much. We celebrated Fridays at excellent restaurants as a family. Desert was always ordered. Then we would drop him off and head out for drinks with our friends.

  Fourth Circle of Hell – Greed

  We considered divorce and we fought over who would have what. We fought over who owned our son. Our son became property. He was no longer human. I am a monster.

  My wife became faceless. All I saw was responsibility. Complaints. Nagging. My new car was for me.

  I told my son, “If you want to act that way, you can live somewhere else. This is my house, my rules. I don’t have to pay for anything, including your college.” My God. I never really meant it. This is all my fault. What have I done?

  Fifth Circle of Hell – Anger

  The officers said the neighbors reported fights coming from our house. My son and I had a hard time getting along. I just thought it was father and son stuff. Growing pains. I finished writing my statement and handed it to the officer.

  “You know, you’re a son of a bitch sometimes. You act just like your mother.”

  His mother is furious as am I. We knew the dangers of being a runaway, but we didn’t educate him. We encouraged him. I’ll never forgive myself. My wife’s face is pale with fear. The news is on. The broadcaster reads the teleprompter.

  “Today, more news about a local missing teenager. New information has led the investigation overseas. Clues are leading investigators to believe the teen was abducted and had been sex trafficked.” I smashed the TV. I blamed her. She blamed me. I am alone. Pains run across my chest. Guilt plunges to the bottom of my stomach. I dry heave.

  Sixth Circle of Hell - Heresy

  I pray silently to anyone that will listen. Bring my son home. Please, anyone, can’t anyone help me?

  Seventh Circle – Violence

  Outer Ring – Violence against People and Property

  My son had smashed his final mailbox. Grounded. He will stay grounded until hell freezes over. I slapped the back of his head and scolded him. It wasn’t the first time I stuck my son. The police officer asked, “So you have a history of family violence?”

  Middle Ring – Suicides and Profligates

  His mother threatened suicide after she found out about the affair. My son overheard the drunk fight. He burst from his room and threw himself in front of her and screamed at me, “Don’t hurt Mom.”

  He had everything a kid could want. Video games. Laptops. A scooter. I worked over sixty hours a week to make the money I needed to give him the world. He left it all here. He is my world. My world is gone.

  I feel empty and worthless. Maybe my wife would be better off without me.

  Inner Ring – Violence against God

  “Why won’t you help me?!” I cursed at the ceiling as if yelling to the sky helped God hear me. How could God let a child be abducted? I am disgusted with God. I’ll never forgive Him. I’ll never forgive myself.

  Eighth Circle – Fraud

  Bolgia 1 – Panderers, Seducers

  I ruined his moral fiber. I told him that I made more money than I actually did. I told him I played varsity football. What I played was the bench. I wanted my son to like me. I made him hate me.

  Bolgia 2 – Flatterers

  My wife told me I was a good father. I often questioned myself. She encouraged me, but I knew she was lying. I needed someone to tell me the truth.

  Bolgia 3 – Simony

  He went to a private school. It was my choice. I offered free labor by my construction company in return for his tuition. The dean was corrupt. It was a better school, but now I think it was a poor choice. I should have never had forced him to be a part of something he hated.

  Bolgia 4 – Sorcerers, Astrologers, False Prophets

  I promised his future to be bright. I said it was “in the cards” for him if he kept his grades up. If he was perfect, he could predict that his future would be likewise.

  Bolgia 5 – Corrupt Politicians

  My son and I agreed on nothing it seemed. The last time he came home from school he showed me his report card. Civics = A. We argued over the value of being a conservative. I voted for a conservative. I threated to never speak of politics again should he choose to devalue my red party politicians. It was more important to me to value the views of politicians over my son’s. Who the hell are those people anyway? Not my son. I will never recover from these mistakes. I am nothing.

  Bolgia 6 – Hypocrites

  I’ve told my son many things. I’ve showed my son many things.

  Don’t drink underage. Watch me indulge irresponsibly and cause harm.

  Don’t hurt others.

  Don’t over-eat.

  Don’t get bad grades.

  Don’t do anything illegal.

  Don’t do anything.

  Don’t exist.

  Don’t.

  Don’t be me.

  Bolgia 7 – Thieves

  He stole money from my wallet before he left. I stole his childhood.

  Bolgia 8 – Deceivers

  It was more than the affair. When my wife discovered that my affair led to a child, it was too much. My son was delighted to find out he wasn’t an only child, even if it was from the betrayal of his mother. I paid the mother off yearly to keep her daughter a secret. I taught my son that money can make problems go away.

  Bolgia 9 – Sinners of Scandal, Schism, and Discord

  I splintered my family. My wife loved me less. My son loved her more. I can’t blame my son for hating me.

  Bolgia 10 – Falsifiers

  I lied to my wife.

  I lied to my son.

  I lied about everything.

  I lied to myself.

  Ninth Circle – Treachery

  Round 1 – Traitors to Kindred

  My son exists. He lives at the hands of men who abuse him for profit.

  Round 2 – Traitors to Country or Entities

  I destroyed his life. I destroyed his home. I destroyed my son.


  Round 3 – Traitors to Guests

  I ruined all that has lived in my home.

  I am guilty.

  Round 4 – Betrayers of Christ

  I will regain my ground.

  I will find my faith.

  My son needs me.

  I will not falter.

  I will not grow weary.

  I will not betray the last thing I have left to hold onto: My Christ, my God. My guilt will live in the light of hope.

  I will find my son.

  Vanilla Dr. Pepper

  The classic car’s engine roared. It sailed into the drive-in diner like a ship pulling into harbor.

  “Twenty-five years, Donna. Twenty-five years of fixing this car. Twenty-five years of us. The kids. It’s hard to believe we’re alone now. I can finally drive her and I don’t know where the time has gone,” said Brent, Donna’s husband. Donna stared into her purse. She was perfectly still. Sweat beaded on her upper lip.

  “Mr. Brent and Ms. Donna,” said the young clumsy car waitress, “I didn’t recognize you two in this car. This is, literally, the coolest old car I’ve ever seen.”

  “Well thank you,” said Brent.

  “Two vanilla Dr. Peppers?” she asked. Brent nodded. Donna watched Brent admire the waitress’ figure as she walked away. She disapprovingly sighed. Brent continued, oblivious to his wife’s distaste.

  “Our youngest son is calling,” said Donna. She answered the call. She said all of the usual things moms do checking on their child away from home the first year. Brent ignored the conversation and smiled at the returning waitress.

  “Two vanilla Dr. Peppers Mr. Brent,” the waitress said. She smiled. His face lit up. He passed one to Donna.

  “Our son is fine. He just wanted to let us know about his student loans,” Donna said. Brent sucked his straw. He obnoxiously slurped.

  “Who’s that girl related to in this town?” asked Brent. Donna stared at nothing. Her heart was cold from years of marital pain. Her rigid spine postured perfectly. Her level gaze froze in time like a customer on an antique black and white drive-in diner post card. This was the last time she would be disrespected. There were no children. Nothing was left to make the marriage work. She loudly slurped.

  “I had an affair with your brother years ago. I don’t know if he’s yours,” said Donna.

  “Our son? On the phone?” asked Brent. His upper torso swiveled toward her. “I know. I slept with your sister not long after that.” The silence became deafening. They listened to one another breathe.

  “We’ve never had a wiring problem at the house. I used to flip breakers when you wanted to work in your craft room,” Brent said.

  “I know. I called the best electrician in town every time. I used to sweep the garage floor and pushed the debris behind your truck tires. I enjoyed evenings to myself when you had flats,” she said. Brent swirled the ice in his cup.

  “I learned to never buy a tire without a warranty. Just so you know, we’re not missing a garage door opener. It’s under the seat of my truck. I never had to get out of the truck to open the door before pulling in. You did, but I didn’t have to,” he said.

  “I twisted the lawn sprinklers so they would spray you every morning. The look on your face was priceless” Donna said. Deep from her chest a sound protruded like a muffled laugh. Brent rested his head back and closed his eyes. He smiled.

  “Did you know I turned the sprinklers back every morning, got the hose and watered your flowers every morning so they wouldn’t die?” Brent asked. Donna blinked a tear from her eye.

  “No, I didn’t.” She paused and exhaled. Her face softened and reanimated from a comatose state. Her spine bowed. Her icy demeanor began to melt away. “The impossible to find tail-lights for this car - I bought them online and gave them to the junkyard to give to you. I made the manager promise to never tell.”

  “I didn’t know,” said Brent. Donna placed her vanilla Dr. Pepper between her knees. The cup was warm and empty.

  “Also, I’ve been putting away for years. I set up a trust-fund for our son’s college tuition years ago. I didn’t want you to have to work any longer than you had to,” Donna said. Brent sighed, and then chuckled.

  “You are amazing. I’ve always loved you. Always have, always will,” he said. The breeze softly blew through the car. The sweet summer air tickled Donna’s nose. She leaned toward Brent and rested her head on his shoulder. “Do you want another vanilla Dr. Pepper?” he asked. She shook her head no. He placed his empty cup on the dash. “I have a buyer for the car.”

  “But Brent-”

  “I have a buyer for the car. He would have bought it last year but the sale was only agreed upon if I had all original parts. I needed the original tail-lights to make the deal,” he said. Strained unconventional laughs erupted from the car’s windows.

  “Well,” Donna said, “what are you going to do?” Twenty-five years of pain and joy precipitated tears in her eyes. She watched them fall onto his sleeve. He smiled and wiped his hand across his face, erasing tears of his own. He tipped her head up, made eye contact and asked the best question she has ever heard.

  “How do you feel about a vanilla Dr. Pepper in Key West?”

  That Poor Girl

  “One hundred and eighty days, Mr. Lamborn. That’s six months to consider what you have done,” the judge said. I had never been called “mister” in my life. My mother refused to look at me. My father silently mouthed to me, It’s going to be okay. No, it wasn’t. The guard ripped me up from my seat. Snap, snap. Handcuffs. I had never worn handcuffs.

  “I should have never let my daughter date you, you’re a monster!” Jacie’s mother screamed. Jacie asked me out, actually. The hardest part of this was that I knew I would be back. I would come back to the world, start over, and maybe go to college someday. Jacie would never have the chance to come back. She was sentenced earlier this month, along with Marney, Baxter, and Colt. Marney and Baxter got a year. Colt, well, he got five years, but pretty low in my opinion for what he had done, and as for Jacie-- Jacie got life.

  * * *

  Hi Mom. I miss you and dad. How’s it going? Does my dog miss me? He’s so crazy, I hope you are able to keep him out of my room while I’m away. I’ve been trying to keep my head down, you know, just lay low until I can come home again. The food is terrible, but no worse than the cafeteria stuff they dealt us. I’m really sorry for everything. I’ll write you again next week. Josh

  The mail runs here every Wednesday. I have more than enough time to write, but I don’t want to remind them of the pain too much. I’m just lonely. I hope I get some letters from my friends. You think you’d miss your friends the most, but you don’t. You miss your mom and dad. You miss things like pancakes, and walking to the park when you’re bored in the summer. You miss the awful smell of the dirty clothes under your bed. Now I’m laying here smelling other people’s nasty underwear.

  * * *

  Hey Joshey, I miss you so much! I guess I’ll be missing you for a while, but hey, you can always see me when you get out. I can’t wait! I can’t believe some of these cunts I have to live with. I haven’t seen Marney--I heard they moved her to a different facility. I told her to be strong-- hell, I told her just say she did what I did and they’ll leave her alone! Haha! Word is already getting around that I burned that little bitch’s house down, and that I sent her and her whole family to hell. Sometime’s Karma’s a BITCH. Are you ok? How’s it going where you’re at? Do you have a cell or a dormitory? I hope your food is better than here. I’ve gotta go do laundry for a while. Just thought you should know that I love you and I can’t wait to see you when you get out. I’m counting the days! Love ya always and forever - Jacie

  I don’t know if I ever really, like, loved Jacie. I said it, but I just played along because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Everyone was always a little afraid of Jacie because she was pretty, and lo
ud, and her parents had a ton of money so she always had something better or newer than everyone else.

  That “little bitch” was a girl named Oma. Oma wore what looked like a grown man’s clothes. I don’t know if she wanted to or not, my guess was that she had to. One time Jacie told me that she saw her taking showers in the locker room before school. Oma’s big brother, Lin, did the same in ours. I heard their family’s water was shut off pretty regularly. It was no secret that Oma and Lin were extremely poor. I saw Lin take a used deodorant stick out of the trash one day and stick it in his pocket. He ran out of the locker room after he realized I saw him. I didn’t say anything to him; I just figured he probably did that because he didn’t have any at home. The next two weeks of school Lin would waft down the hallways, smiling as if he had achieved a new level of normalcy. Colt called him “fresh” for his overwhelmingly minty fresh smell, and the name stuck.

  * * *

  Sup Josh-man? It’s been three months. Only four years and nine months to go! You’re probably excited to be out in only three more. Next time, I’ll let you pour the gas. I can’t believe you only got six months. I’ve already got my ass kicked in here. Some guy took my slippers so I took them back, and like three guys jumped me. Just so you know I don’t care what the jury decided, I didn’t lie about Oma. Oma told Baxter she would tell everyone that I raped her, and it wasn’t true. Baxter and I never left the back of my truck bed at the bon fire, and Oma’s house was a half a mile away from us. There’s no way Baxter or I would go walking through the woods to their house. And for what? Why would we even do that? No one liked Oma or wanted her, man. My dad says that he’s got a lawyer looking at this and that my time is gonna get reduced. It better! I hate this place.

  Well, keep your head up, bro.

  Colt

  My friend Colt could be considered a serial liar. He lived for these parties, and for giving people a hard time.