This is the first short story that I've written, outside of high school. Called, The Transparent Chain
I plan on making it around 100 pages. (Fiction)
There are always two sides to a coin. As there is always 2 sides to a story, In the weight of things; there is a difference between good and evil, and a choice has to be made in which we fight and defend, what side of the line that we stand on. In our lives, there comes a moment, which we'll all be held accountable for these very actions. And this, is one of those stories.
It's amazing how the mistakes one can procure in one’s lifetime, can overwhelm and become out of hand, which grows into being completely unaccountable. Well some are more than positive, that if one truly had the time and an emotional calculator, mind you, it is possible. But Chankoowashtay (called Chain, to most), an Assiniboine, neighboring the Sioux Native Americans in Poplar, Montana within the Fort Peck Reservation; had neither one of these tools.
The only attribution he had - was a greater chance to be an alcoholic like every other member of his family. So the odds we're against him 10 – 1. And let's face it, it often leads to a narrow path right into sinking water that ends with the inevitable and literal drowning of its traveler. But there wasn't a bookie, nor any type of calculator that could add up and solve these muck ups. He was well aware of this. But Chain was one determined, and clever enough, insightful individual. Some even say, he was the most determined 'SOB' living on the reservation; when he put his mind to it.
Although he was a stranger to optimism, surely he was allowed to have a chance at life that others on TV had, that he had watched while growing up. Surely, he thought, surely there has to be a fork in the road in Roosevelt County, which was the beginning of this transition; when alcohol and drugs defined him. But he honestly couldn't remember. Had it really gotten to the point that it was all a blur? To where fact and fiction, inebriation and sobriety - grayed themselves into some type of torpor that couldn't be recalled?
"Obviously," he thought.
So maybe it's a mistake to even try and pinpoint it, he would think. But he couldn't deny the satisfaction he would have, if only he could. If only he could recall when he first lost sight of himself, and where exactly the levee broke – and the waves of his individuality, became buried beneath.
“If only,” he sighed.
At 18, at least he had his looks going for him. Looking almost as a Benjamin Bratt impersonator with long hair, except a few pounds over average with a widow’s peak at a very early age. But repeated drug and alcohol use, had very rapidly snatched his youth away from him. It was as if unseen arms reverberated around him, pulling away hour by hour, his looks, and dreams into some narrow hall - dedicated to be devoured by Hell - never to be seen again. Nevertheless of where they were going to, the perks of what he had going for him, was receding far too quickly for his liking. But that was then, and he was no longer 18.
Another sigh, escapes.
With Chankoowashtay quite literally meaning “One who chooses the Good Road,” there's definitely a lot of pressure involved with making decisions on one's future and the travel that comes along with it. Which ironically his father Akecheta named him, when he went through his only sober year since the age of 14 of his life. In which was the birth of Chain and the same year that followed.
So in his moment of 'clarity' - he wanted his son's name to represent a light in his mistakes, so hopefully Chain would follow suit of its meaning. Or so he claimed. But mainly (and honestly) because it was the name of Akecheta's father, so more than likely it didn't take much thought. Like he bragged to others, that it did. Which once again, applied immense pressure on Chain. For his grandfather was a code talker in the First World War, decorated for his commitment to the call of arms, and even receiving a silver star for his services right before his death - when the government finally acknowledged it decades later.
This left a shadow, greatly cast upon him to look up to; As it veered below onto him, and his ‘insignificance.’ For it had already been a year passed his age, compared to when his grandfather had achieved his accomplishment, compared to his current time in his life.
Honestly it didn't really matter in the end, none of it did. People admire those that completely change for the better. Well, usually. Of course everybody develops neigh Sayers, but those you keep around you - that's all that matters. Besides - he wasn't a complete loss, 22 is still a decent age for him to turn it all around. So surely it wasn’t too late. Or so at least he thought. And in truth, turning his life around was all that he wanted on some deeper inner level. He’d often fantasize storming a bunker on the front lines, writing a song that made it onto the radio, or being the person that cured a type of incurable cancer.
He knew he lacked purpose, and often found himself afraid of failure to even try something other than the ‘scenic route’. And there was a certain aura around him, that people couldn't put their finger on, that was almost a type of suffocation that he seemed to be doing to himself. And she knew it. She, being the only person that mattered.
Above all others, Rozene's opinion was the only current that could sway the fields of an endless plain, which one could imagine a mind being metaphorically. And at times when Chain would become overwhelmed, she would remind him that he needed to just breathe and keep a wishful heart. Secretly breathing and wishing for things, was about all that Chain ever did. Sometimes he would wish so much, his breathing became too shallow and too irritated for him to stand. In which he would go and lie down, wishing that he could simply catch his breath.
“The irony,” he would think.
Rose was gorgeous in every extent of the way. Her cheerful jet black hair, would effortlessly hang in between her shoulder blades. Moving smoothly as in the solidity of water, as in a stone being skipped along a shallow river bank; resulting in ripples from the aftermath. She was always seeming to move in such a grace in everything that she did, that even a person who would refuse opening a door for someone; would to her, without thinking such a thought (possibly regretting it later, teeming themselves above that). Always maintaining such an innocent and diminutive face, with mid to high cheekbones; placed symmetrically by God, to cohere and compliment her soft feminine features; she was a marvel to witness. With the kind of looks that men write stories and sing songs about - and even think of, when they're lying with their 'other' at night.
She seemed to carry herself in such a way, that was admired by all the women, and men - of the tribe. Appearing almost as royalty, erecting herself in a way that she assuredly had learned from Audrey Hepburn - her favorite actress, and who's character she would emulate from Breakfast at Tiffany's that she had seen as a teenager on several occasions. The iconic part being Hepburn was a true introvert, portraying an extroversion of herself for the character. Rozene subconsciously would emulate this, as well. But no one ever drew together the connection. Yet he knew it. Him being the only person that he wanted to matter, to her.
Through their shared childhood, this had given him access to her dreams and fears. And yes, including her inspirations and an uncanny foothold of what she wanted to be. And needless to say, Chain was head over heels - unabashedly, and unequivocally, - in love with her.
But before he even assembled a way to confess to her, he had to go about it the right way. Orchestrating what he had to offer - to perfectly sway her off her feet - in one quick heroic sweep. Leaving her feeling weightless, dizzy, and wanting no one else on the entire planet. For such a girl as this, there can be no room for error, none at all. He often thought. And one wrong move could prove to be fatal, in the climactic ‘result of wooing’ that he had always envisioned. Yet the thought of bringing it into light, was just another fear that he couldn't gather the gumption to move forward.
Funny part being, he already had her interested. But she kept it so well hidden, that no one could tell. Not even God.
I D.A.R.E. you to ask me what D.A.R.E. means.