Above is the song that I have chosen to turn into a fanfic piece. It is by the band The Ataris and using the song The Hero Dies in This One from their So Long, Astoria album I have incorporated lyrics from the original song to help create this fanfic piece.
Glancing down first at the bag which lay lifeless at my feet and secondly at the watch on my wrist I connected my hand (once again) with the silver bell sitting on the reception desk.
“Coming! I’m coming.”
An old lady bustled through the curtain that joined the reception and what looked to be her living room as a faint smell of fresh baking drifted through to reach my nose.
“Sorry about that. I’ve got the grandkids coming over soon and they do love my brownies! So what room are you checking out of?”
All my previous feelings of annoyance dispersed as I answered the smiling lady in front of me by handing her my room key on the ratty numbered tag.
“Room 108 ma’am.”
“Did you have a good stay in Anderson Mr...”
“Roe. Mr Roe. Well...it was everything I expected it to be.”
“Good. That’s good.”
Silence settles over the small office except for the sound of her slow meticulous entries on the keyboard and also what sounded to be, today’s episode of Wheel of Fortune playing through the curtain.
“Well that’s all done Mr Roe. Have safe travels wherever you’re heading.”
Disappearing behind the curtain, I followed her lead and left through the dirty glass door greeted by the chilly autumn breeze rippling through my clothes. Zipping up my jacket and crunching leaves as I walked towards my car, I couldn’t help but miss the seasons of my former hometown.
Driving through town for the last time, of this visit anyway, I saw all the places that mean so much (or so little) to me. Regardless of my feelings, these were the places that brought back all the memories.
The fairgrounds where everything seemed to go wrong for the first time, my former high school, my childhood home, everywhere that had some significance of my life, or my former life as the case may be.
All these places seemed to centre around my dad. The man who did his best and who taught me what being strong really was, especially through hard times. I’m not quite sure what I am expected to do now that he has died.
These, and so many more memories flooded my thoughts as I drove on through the night until I hit Oklahoma City and found another second rate motel to stay the night. Tomorrow I would try and drive straight through to LA without stopping. Get back to this girl I was seeing, Erin.
After checking in, finding my room and realising that there was nothing good on television that night I retired to bed and thought about Anderson. I knew I didn’t go back there enough, and I do hate that the only reason I went back this time was to say my final goodbyes to my father, but I just can’t feel for that town, what I feel for my home now. I can’t hate a town my whole life, then visit it every year. All that does is remind me of all the things I hated about my former life. It was just unfortunate that my parents stayed in Anderson albeit in their separate houses, but still in the same town. Because regardless of my feelings about the town, they were still my parents and I loved them and I just can’t help but think about what I am going to do now that my father has gone.
Regret flooded my room and I sat there drowning my thoughts and thinking of all the things I didn’t do enough. Like tell my folks that I loved them. Appreciate all that they did for me. But I guess now they’ll never know, although I will hope that deep down they knew all along.
“Coming! I’m coming.”
An old lady bustled through the curtain that joined the reception and what looked to be her living room as a faint smell of fresh baking drifted through to reach my nose.
“Sorry about that. I’ve got the grandkids coming over soon and they do love my brownies! So what room are you checking out of?”
All my previous feelings of annoyance dispersed as I answered the smiling lady in front of me by handing her my room key on the ratty numbered tag.
“Room 108 ma’am.”
“Did you have a good stay in Anderson Mr...”
“Roe. Mr Roe. Well...it was everything I expected it to be.”
“Good. That’s good.”
Silence settles over the small office except for the sound of her slow meticulous entries on the keyboard and also what sounded to be, today’s episode of Wheel of Fortune playing through the curtain.
“Well that’s all done Mr Roe. Have safe travels wherever you’re heading.”
Disappearing behind the curtain, I followed her lead and left through the dirty glass door greeted by the chilly autumn breeze rippling through my clothes. Zipping up my jacket and crunching leaves as I walked towards my car, I couldn’t help but miss the seasons of my former hometown.
Driving through town for the last time, of this visit anyway, I saw all the places that mean so much (or so little) to me. Regardless of my feelings, these were the places that brought back all the memories.
The fairgrounds where everything seemed to go wrong for the first time, my former high school, my childhood home, everywhere that had some significance of my life, or my former life as the case may be.
All these places seemed to centre around my dad. The man who did his best and who taught me what being strong really was, especially through hard times. I’m not quite sure what I am expected to do now that he has died.
These, and so many more memories flooded my thoughts as I drove on through the night until I hit Oklahoma City and found another second rate motel to stay the night. Tomorrow I would try and drive straight through to LA without stopping. Get back to this girl I was seeing, Erin.
After checking in, finding my room and realising that there was nothing good on television that night I retired to bed and thought about Anderson. I knew I didn’t go back there enough, and I do hate that the only reason I went back this time was to say my final goodbyes to my father, but I just can’t feel for that town, what I feel for my home now. I can’t hate a town my whole life, then visit it every year. All that does is remind me of all the things I hated about my former life. It was just unfortunate that my parents stayed in Anderson albeit in their separate houses, but still in the same town. Because regardless of my feelings about the town, they were still my parents and I loved them and I just can’t help but think about what I am going to do now that my father has gone.
Regret flooded my room and I sat there drowning my thoughts and thinking of all the things I didn’t do enough. Like tell my folks that I loved them. Appreciate all that they did for me. But I guess now they’ll never know, although I will hope that deep down they knew all along.
“How was everything back in Anderson Kris?”
Sitting in the sunny window front of the coffee shop, Erin sat down in the seat across from me and smiled as she picked up the coffee that I had already ordered for her.
“Oh ya know. The usual.”
“Well I’m glad you’re home anyway. We’ve got that gig to go to tonight yeah?”
“Yeah we do. I’ll swing by and pick you up around 9 or so?”
“Sounds good.”
Even as we continued talking I couldn’t help but let my thoughts stray back to Anderson. I guess sometimes I do miss that place, more than I am even willing to admit to myself.
Sitting in the sunny window front of the coffee shop, Erin sat down in the seat across from me and smiled as she picked up the coffee that I had already ordered for her.
“Oh ya know. The usual.”
“Well I’m glad you’re home anyway. We’ve got that gig to go to tonight yeah?”
“Yeah we do. I’ll swing by and pick you up around 9 or so?”
“Sounds good.”
Even as we continued talking I couldn’t help but let my thoughts stray back to Anderson. I guess sometimes I do miss that place, more than I am even willing to admit to myself.
no draft yet?
ReplyDeleteI think I can somewhat relate myself to the character of your story, being a thousand miles away from home. Emotions of the character is expressed clearly. ME GUSTA.
ReplyDeleteVery nice, really discriptive story.
ReplyDeleteIt kind of reminds me of Hotel Dusk, but the story could be after the events of the game.
I like the concept of turning song to fan fiction. It's almost what lyricists have in mind when they create these songs. So many tell a story but never gain appreciation like this! Really good read and a number one fan right here. I like the relism of the piece and personally can relate to a lot of the statements above.
ReplyDeleteI'm not sure what Hotel Dusk is Andy. Sounds interesting.
ReplyDeleteAnd thanks everyone else! I want to look over the last 1/4 of the story as I'm not all too happy with it but i'm glad that it's relatable.