”There’s a keen difference between surviving and living.”
– The Chronicles of Glenn Radcliffe
Bloomfield Hills, Michigan
Glenn skimmed the page, briefly glancing at the material. He appreciated the artwork—he always appreciated the artwork—and skimmed the page again before moving on to the next. There were any number of things he should be doing, but honestly, what was the point?
“Glenn, c’mere.”
His father’s voice echoed from the veranda. Glenn chuckled to himself, closing his book and climbing out of the hammock in the courtyard. He took a leisurely stride, walking the marble steps between the koi ponds to the lanai. As he entered, his father, Bernard, was already in a less-than-pleasant mood.
“What c-can I do for you, Father?”
“What are you doing today?”
“R-reading.” Glenn offered his father the book.
“The Other Side of the Mirror? Do you read anything else?”
Glenn looked away, scratching his thin, newly grown beard. The twenty-three-year-old stared into the fountain back in the courtyard, lanky and disciplined as ever. The ambiance of the splashing water mixed with the fickle remnants of the summer heat was too enticing to waste standing around with his father. He ignored Bernard’s audible sigh.
“Boy, try to pay attention. I brought you home so you could get better. Under supervision, since you clearly will not take care of yourself. If you want to waste away into nothing, go do it on the street. If you want to remain here, in the lap of luxury, get off your ass and go out and do something.”
“What d-do you suggest, Father?”
“Do you really need me to dictate your life for you? Or is it that it’s easier than actually trying to live it?”
“Hm.” Glenn smirked halfheartedly, watching the fountain from the corner of his eye. “As you s-stated, Father, I c-clearly will not take c-care of myself. Seems you p-prefer that j-job, in any c-case.”
Glenn’s cheek burned as the back of Bernard’s hand came firmly across it. Glenn recoiled only for a moment before regaining his posture.
“R-right…”
“Watch your mouth, boy, before I reevaluate whether you’re worth the upkeep.”
“Of c-course, Father.”
“Damnit, Glenn, I’m trying!” Bernard threw his arms up into the air. “God help you if nothing else will.”
Bernard stormed off into the atrium, taking Glenn’s book with him. Glenn stood idly, letting his eyes drift to the koi ponds just outside the lanai. His fingers danced about his hand, restless with nothing to keep them occupied. He clutched his wrist, subconsciously rubbing his thumb against the unruly scar that had failed to take his life—the life regrettably saved by his friends. The life he was now pissing away.
Glenn dropped himself onto a suede sofa that sat in the lanai, sinking into it, resting his head on the arm of the couch. He stared at the ceiling, looking for his familiar wall-crawling fiends, but they were nowhere to be found. They abandoned him with the fear of death. Glenn exhaled, tapping his finger on his nose for amusement, making small mereowing sounds to himself. The excitement of his new hobby quickly died off along with his interest in consciousness. He removed his glasses and allowed his eyelids to relax, waiting for whatever would come next.