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Submitted by: mastercylinder On: November 28th, 2004
File Size: 8 KB
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Artist's Comment:
A sort of Sad short story...
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My Only Friend... Cheadle
Do you ever stare at a textured or patterned surface and cross your eyes, blur them? Sometimes, suddenly, your mind makes a familiar pattern, like a face or an object. I used to do this as a kid, laying on me bed, staring up at the stucco ceiling, daydreaming, and a face would appear. I was happy then, just dreaming. I had friends.
Nowadays, I do not have any friends... well maybe, just one...
His name is Cheadle and I met him about a week ago. I was sitting in a subway station and then there he was. I was feeling really down and he was smiling at me. I felt the need to tell him how I felt and he listened. He listened and he smiled. I felt his smile as a reassuring gesture that things were not as bad as I thought. I went home feeling better.
A couple days later I was depressed again so I went to the subway station, hoping that Cheadle would be there. I sat on the stairs and then suddenly he was there again. I told him my problems, I told him I wished that I was dead... and he smiled again, that smile that told me everything would be all right in the end. No matter how bad I felt his smile made everything better. So I went home again, reassured of a better tomorrow.
Then, I went to a doctor, he examined me and told me I was schizophrenic, a mild case. Still, I was devastated. Oh my God! I was crazy! I cried and cried! How could it be any worse? Then I thought of Cheadle... I ran and ran to the subway station... He had to be there or else I might do something to myself in this unbearable sadness! I sat on the stares and suddenly he was there! I told him my terrible news and he just smiled that wonderful smile... And I knew by that smile what he meant; that even though some doctor said I had schizophrenia, it didn't mean that I was insane! That I could deal with it, and still be happy.
Today is another day, and I'm worried that I am going to lose my home. I have a crummy job and I haven't enough money to pay my rent... I am very sad and want to just kill myself... but I know who can make things feel much better, feel like I maybe have a second chance, that I can overcome this trouble...
And so I'm going to run to the subway, sit on the stairs, stare at the patterned marble floor, cross and blur my eyes, and talk to my only friend... Cheadle.
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Great story ... authentic and well told. Sad, certainly, but not maudlin and thankfully free from self-pitying angst [too many stories, these days, have too much!].
The beginning is excellent - tangential to the theme, but very appropriate, and the reader is taken fluently through the story to a suitably enigmatic end.
An absorbing read, my friend! 
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I invent nothing. I rediscover. ~ Auguste Rodin ~
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