Drama Queen (Kurt Cobain)

52

Teenagers flew overhead. They sang along to the words Kurt sang,
I didn't know any of them. They lived and died by every word that ever came from Kurt's brain. Every word said out of anger and disgust, every word preaching love. Every word that made it past the ink on the paper of which it was originally written. The room was filled with the purest energy imaginable. I stood near the back as to not be trampled.

At odd times I reflected on my life. I was born in 1968, born into generation jones, first wave of generation X. Life was great after the war, if you had enough you had everything. White picket fences picked at my bones. Dad in Vietnam and mom in with the wrong crowd. I lived with by grandmother until my dad returned home. War does a lot to a man. My father was my king before he left. He was the most important man in the world. But when he returned that changed. He had flash backs on the Fourth of July and would get drunk and take that out on me. Strange how his generation, the generation who caused the civil rights movement, can go to war and come back more racist than the generation prior. When I was 7 years old the war ended. My next door neighbor had lost a father and a brother. Any time the police came to my grandmothers house we thought we were going to suffer the same news. I drowned out Kurt's music with my thoughts. I drowned out where I was with thoughts. I drowned out the screaming teenagers, the happy laughs, with sadness. I needed to go smoke.

I slipped outside through the door and walked out to the sidewalk. I sat down. I looked up into the grim motherly overcast grey November sky. I lit my cigarette with a spark of warmth. There were other people outside smoking. A girl sunk down beside me and began crying.
"What's up?" I asked her. She looked me over.
"I recognize you." She said through sobs.
"Where from?" I asked.
"The magazines. You and Kurt." She smiled with tears in her eyes. I nodded.
"I was in there at the show." She started.
"And I was crowd surfing. And word of advice don't crowd surf while wearing a dress. They will do disgusting things to you. They touched me inappropriately and..." She paused.
"They stuck fingers in me." She sighed.
"Can I hug you?" I asked. She nodded. I hugged her and kept a protective arm around her.
"Let's stay out here until the show is over." I said to her. She nodded.
"Can I meet Kurt?" She asked. I nodded.
"I can try." I smiled.