02/04/2024
(I Billy)
My name is William,
I was a young man when I vanished in the early 90s.
Many would have said that I was well-seasoned for my age. And that was not far from the truth.
I have been groomed by my father from the first time I ever stepped inside the hell hole he took me as a child.
I try to keep up with my schooling but the voices in my head have pushed me in a different direction.
My hands and imagination were a gift from god.
I was a great artist but my ambition for a quick dollar clouded my train of thought.
Money was all my family cared about and I was brought up to take what I wanted at any cost.
My father wore a suit and a tie, every morning, like he was going to an office job.
He walked tall and talked big around those who cared to listen.
His pocket was full of money and I always believed that he sold his soul to the devil.
Summer finally arrived and the hot weather brought out all sorts of characters from other parts of the neighbourhood.
90% of the people were immigrants who had colonized the area since the early seventies. Jamaicans, Guyanese, South Americas, central Americans, India, Oriental and Europeans.
The neighbourhood was known for its rough and ugly moments but it was home for many of us.
it was not an institution at all. But a place that taught you the ins and outs of certain lifestyles. A lifestyle that would break you or make you.
But in reality, it broke most of us and a few didn't even make it out of there. it was a sad reality of life.
There was one building that stood out. and that was 2970, a four-foot brick wall that ran from the entrance of a strip plaza bordering the building.
This four-foot wall would divide reality and insanity. Like day and night.
On one side of the wall was the back parking lot of the plaza where people would gather to play soccer on the pavement, which they called indoor soccer.
On any given day a little competition would break out.
At the other side was the backyard of the building which was a different beast on its own.
Green grass fields with trees as high as the eye could see. Empty swings with no children to play only grown men with beers in hand.
It was freedom for most of us. I always said freedom with a price.
A place where you can let loose.
where angels and demons play together.
I don't believe there is a word to describe its landscape.
It was something out of a movie at times. Like you had entered a different world and with each footstep a unique experience.
A lively atmosphere, the music, the drugs and the alcohol roam in each square foot of the yard.
We were not the only ones that roam the building. Police officers would come around as well. Sometimes they searched us for illegal substances or for not keeping the peace.
We played a cat and mouse game with them.
They were there to ensure that the asylum was not taken over by the inmates. Which happened more often than you can imagine.
Oh, my beautiful Camero I can still smell its leather interior, it was a beauty. A crowd would flock around it.
A few guys and I did a big job for a local mobster.
He paid us in cash and drugs. with the money, I bought my dream car, that was the beginning and the end of my story. A few months later the money was gone and so were the drugs.
With nowhere to call home, I started to sleep in my car.
Then one day I was surprised by the man I had done the job a while back. He asked me if I wanted to stay inside the printing shop he owned.
There was a cot and washroom with a shower.
I looked at myself in the mirror, I was thinner and rough around the edges now.
However, this didn't last long, after a week I was not welcome anymore. I had taken things from the shop to pay for what seemed to be an addiction that was now out of control. I had gone down the rabbit hole and I was not coming back out.
Drugs become my main focus now. Making a dollar whichever way I could. The seasons had rapidly changed and so had my life. It wasn't long before winter made its way to the back of the building
I was now cold and displaced without a car and had made shelter on the last floor of the building. A few partygoers moved inside the underground parking of the building.
It was cold, damped, and it smelled of gasoline, oil and pi**ed. Thank god for the vents system or else most of us would be brain dead, not like we were not already dead inside. We roamed like zombies at times. Getting drunk, getting high. Playing hide go and seek, behind cars or pillars hiding from our shadows at times. Cops came around there too.
I was one of the zombies that roamed the building cavities. I had lost a lot of weight and my clothes showed a decaying man. Drugs had taken over, I wasn't eating anymore and started sharing needles with a ju**ie, she was more gone than here. She was ill and had passed whatever she had to me. A few days before I was taken away by the paramedic I was offered something to eat and drink. By a young man, who lived in one of the apartments. But I wanted water, he looked at me and saw pain in my soul and he knew I was dying. He rushed inside his apartment and got water just like I asked for.
I asked if I could keep the cup, so I could have something to put water in. The youngster left.
The following spring I vanished.
Story by Chris R Moran.
February 2, 2024
( I Billy )
