If I remember correctly, it was about three months from today that I became aware of the Brotherhood. Three months since I became enlightened by a higher power and order, an organization that has confirmed my initial distrust in the corrupt government and the slanderous media. Exactly seventy-two days after my eyes were opened to a new vision, one of controlled chaos and orderly pandemonium. However it wasn't that simple. No before all this my life was the same rut that I had been living in for most of my life, one of flashing screens and annoying parents, of lost dreams and forgotten ambitions.
My parents and teachers had high hopes for me during my final college days. I was too, that is until my unfaithful girlfriend finally broke up with me to be with the new Spanish exchange student she had been fooling around with. After that breakup and numerous other unfortunate events, my grade plummeted and on the final exam I cracked, leaving the college and failing to earn my credit. I managed to scrounge up a job that helped me pay for my technological and junk foods needs as I lived in my parents basement (I politely refused to go in my old room as that would be childish). The only plus side to all this? No need to pay rent, visit a girlfriend (or friends for that matter), pay for food and a perfect opportunity to manage the constantly fluctuating stocks online with the business skill I had.
"Wes may we see you in the kitchen please?" That's what my mother said to me that morning. Of course I had pulled an all nighter playing online with my friends and keeping a watchful eye on my steadily dropping shares so I was in no mood to come upstairs without putting up some form of resistance.
I groaned before running upstairs and opening the door slightly and yelled, "Not now mom, I'm doing something!" Of course my pleas fall on deaf ears as my mother raises her voice, followed by the bellowing of my father. After a string of hippie slurs towards them I groggily make my way to the kitchen, my parents looking at me with disappointed and impatient stares. "You youngsters hollered?" I asked cynically.
My mother sighs, the wrinkles on her face evident and several streaks of gray-white hair beginning to show. From her old photo album, my friend Ken and I realized that she was once a moderately attractive woman. However the fights with my sister and me finally caught up to her and her weariness began to bloom. She asks me the whole "when do you plan of going back to college Wes" question again, all buttered up to make it seem more appealing than it actually is.
My father shakes his head to this. He's the exact opposite of my mother, a youthful looking man with an ever stern face and old pictures you'd laugh at if you weren't so afraid of his intimidating physique. He gets straight to the point, telling me to get of my lazy arse and go back to college like I said I was going to do a month ago. "You've got a knack for business stuff kid and I'll be damned if I'm gonna' let you throw it all away over some whore who left you."
That hits home. My lazy posture goes straight at the mention of my ex...who will not be named. I scowl at my old man before taking a step forward. "This has nothing to do with (insert random name here) dad! I'm long over that slut!"
My dad sits up from his chair and walks right up to me, standing a good inch taller than me. "Listen Wes, I don't like being the man raining down on you but you got to make a decision! You can't live your entire life in front of that god damned computer downstairs! You got to live your dreams and get the degree in business and move on from-"
"I'm over her dad!" I lost control of my temper that day and yelled louder than I normally ever would have been able to do. Of course that set off my dad for his explosion. In two hours I had packed several items such as my laptop and a few games and clothing, walking out the door with my dad glaring at me and my mom giving me a sad look.
You could say that for a good three hours I walked around disillusioned and in broken, a lifeless shell walking around looking for a purpose. My dad's words really hit me hard and for that three hour time period I was actually feeling quite suicidal. That is until I made my way past the local ghetto's basketball court...