The Misadventures of Jake Foley

Tristan's Misadventure #1: Broken Boulevard.

For most people, waking up is the very act of starting over. For Tristan however, waking up is the one thing he despises the most. Shifting around on his twin bed, Tristan stares at the wet spots and probable mold on the ceiling. 

"I love you my son." Blinking himself awake, he rises from the uncomfortable bed. Walking to the bathroom, his large feet parts the piled up trash on the floor. Living in a broken down trailer on the other side of town, Tristan often feels isolated. As if he's watching other's lives through a snow globe while he lives a life that's often filled with nightmares. Stopping in the petite hallway, he notices the bathroom door is open slightly revealing a pair of feet on the floor. Tristan sighs heavily. 

"It's too early for this shit." Walking over to the door, he shoves it open to reveal his father, Danny slumped near the toilet hugging an empty beer can. The charismatic scent of vomit fills Tristan's senses. 

"Fuck." 

Tristan bends down and grabs his father's feet and proceeds to drag him out of the bathroom. Walking into the bathroom he shuts the door in frustration. His feet glide across the bathroom mat to only feel something wet come into contact with his foot. With an array of tiresome sighs, Tristan turns the knob on the sink to reveal only slight drips of water. Tristan stares blindly at the faucet. He cups his hand under the sink and splashes water across his face. Looking up into the mirror, he notices streaks of water descending his face. 

"I love you my son." Tristan turns around quickly but only found himself alone in the bathroom. 

Exiting the bathroom, he walks down the hallway but not before kicking his father full throttle in the abdomen, he didn't even budge. Getting dressed for school was the hardest for Tristan. His thoughts are the loudest during this time of the day. 

"You don't have to go to school. What for? You're already destined to be a fuck up." While putting on his clothing that he fetches from a garbage bag, he stops mid motion to sit on the edge of his nearly broken bed and his mind daydreams. Day dreams of every possibility, every person he's ever encountered to the events he wish didn't happen at all, his mind enslaves his body for moments at a time. Tristan often found himself late to school because of this. Every single day is a mental battle with himself to be a productive teenager. Why do something when you can do nothing and use no energy? 

Tristan places his backpack and walks out the door but not before looking at all of the empty beer cans that lie around the living room area and sighs. He shuts the door loudly, hoping his father will jolt up from his drunk induced sleep. He didn't though. Walking to school was a chore for Tristan as well. His mind wanders to all of the places he can rather be than school. His mind races towards the football stadium behind his school. Specifically to underneath the bleachers which he's made into his own personal skip location. He'd sit when the day became to overwhelming for him and smoke up cigs. He felt invisible, why not act like it? 

Against his better judgement, he arrives at school. Wandering the mindless halls of his high school, Tristan never felt more alone than he feels in school. Waves of students pass by him daily, his insecurities scream in his thoughts. 

"Why don't they ever ask me how I'm doing? Does anyone care?" As if on cue, the person who can subdue these thoughts comes strolling from across the hall. 

"Hey Foley. You look like shit." Jake rubs the back of his neck, clearly exhausted from the night before. Jake smirks before playfully hitting Tristan directly on his shoulder. 

"That maybe true. But you don't look so good yourself. Late night?" Tristan's subconscious directly revisits the night before, where he was staring directly at the ceiling. Listening to his father sobbing loudly in the other room. Tristan smirks and laughs it off.