Mitch.B+-+Insiders+and+Outsiders

=**__Too Much, Too Far__**=

Drenched with anger, with a slight pang of hate, Arty trudged down a muddy track away from all he had ever known, all that he cared for. All that betrayed him. The only that was running through his mind was how he had never done anything to annoy, or disappoint anyone, and now he had been driven to the edge for something he couldn’t help. ‘Life isn’t fair, it’s stupid and not worth living sometimes’, he thought morosely. ‘Why can’t everyone live their lives without feeling the need to punish others for their own misfortunes?’ Plodding along a rutted dirt track he kept asking questions in his mind, hoping desperately that he could somehow escape the ridicule and pain that had come to him. With the pain of his tired feet wearing away his tolerance, and answerless questions boring through his skull, he slowly made his way to the big city. Maybe there he could live his life without others trying to make him suffer. The days blend into weeks, which merge into months, and before you realize it you have accomplished nothing but work for the period of a year or so. Arty realized that he was slowly developing to be not living, but just existing, and it infuriated him to know he had let his existence go unnoticed by everyone. He was going to make sure that people would notice him, so that he felt as though he is worth living at all. From today he would start to live. Skipping breakfast, Arty walked out the door of his cozy home away from the city centre and headed off to his job at the factory. Somehow this feeling he had told him today would be interesting at best, because now he had some motivation back in his life, something he hadn’t had since school, and finally he felt good. Taking his place in the line-up, Arty was running all his ideas through his head. He had to make people like him, and he had to make a good impression on as many people as possible. ‘To start with’ he thought ‘I’m going to talk to Jerry. If he still has issues against me all I can say is I tried and failed, no shame in that.’ So when Arty finally had his break, he nervously made his way past Jerry’s place in the line. With a friendly smile and a nod of the head, he walked past and quietly uttered, “How’s it going?” Barely raising his head, Jerry just muttered, only loud enough for Arty and those around him to hear: “Get lost Jew, I’ve had enough problems today without you being around.” Arty sighed, half turned to confront Jerry, but when a few other people started laughing at him he kept walking, hiding his face that was contorted with rage. Then the call came, “That’s right, run away Jew”. It lingered in the air worse than any other comment that had been sent his way. All his hopes for a good day were crushed in that short moment, and the feeling of rejection and loneliness swept over him like never before. It wasn’t the fact that Jerry had scorned his efforts, he was used to that. But the fact that he was singled out as a Jew, and been humiliated for that, it cut Arty really deep, especially that the others had joined in with the teasing and hadn’t helped him out. Arty kept walking quickly, straight past the drink station, everything rushed by in a blur as he left the factory he had been confined in all his work life. ‘I’m too good for all this, how come I’m stuck here?’ Then he realized that this had the same answer to why Jerry hated him. He was a Jew, born proud from a Jewish mother who was raped by a German soldier just before the Great War. Most of the people in Germany had this idea about him, that he isn’t as good as them or something. So all his life he was restricted, held back. All because he was Jewish, but this is stupid, because he was half German anyway. But that’s just not good enough for some people. Besides, if you weren’t aware of Arty’s heritage you would think he was full German, having blue eyes and all. Standing aimlessly in the middle of the deserted street, Arty felt like he was being watched. He turned to find himself facing an old man of around 60, who he had seen but never spoken to. The old man said to him, “Never mind them. They are just scared of the way us Jewish people are; better than them. Just don’t let it bother you.” “Um, I don’t really care about your opinion at the moment,” Arty responded. “In case you didn’t notice I'm a little sick and tired of being around people. Just leave me alone, and keep your advice to yourself.” For some reason, a complete stranger that had tried to help him only succeeded in making him angrier for some strange reason. Even though there was someone reaching out to help him, Arty chose to exile himself and deal with his problems himself. For betraying his own morals and goals, he was too annoyed to think rationally. So then he just stormed away from the factory, and headed off towards the nearest pub. Twelve thirty at night, dirty and bruised from falling into a ditch and with a blinding headache. What a great end to a crap day Arty thought sorely. Hitting the pubs from 3.00P.M to 12.00A.M was definitely a bad decision he finally decided. Never again. Stumbling along the roads in the general direction of his suburb, Arty finally decided that he shouldn’t have put up with Jerry putting him down and making him feel shit. It should never stand, if only he could put an end to it, and just as Arty had an idea forming, he turned into his driveway, only to see his house, all of his effort and pride, absolutely wrecked. Rubbish was strewn all over his yard, rocks and logs and almost anything you could think of was thrown against his house. All of the windows were broken, and his couch had been taken outside and ripped apart. The anger that had subsided in the pub returned now more than ever, for Arty knew who had done this, why else would there be “You’re a disgrace Jew” written on his front door? Jerry had finally caused Arty to snap, this was another thing that was way too far for his liking. Blinded by rage, he drunkenly fell to the ground and grabbed at a large piece of wood that lay discarded on his lawn. ‘Time to finally settle this’ he thought. Then he pulled himself off the ground, and started walking off into the night, holding the wood like a baseball bat. ‘Time to end what shouldn’t have started.’ Protected by shadows, prowling along the city streets in the dead of night, and completely out of his element, Arty slinked towards Jerry’s suburb. Being drunk never helped him, as he was completely unsure of what he planned to do. All he knew was that he hated Jerry, and wanted to hurt him more than anything, and he liked the idea of seeing him in pain. Slowly but surely Arty made it to his house, then spent another five minutes standing outside wondering how exactly he was going to do everything. But then he remembered all the hate Jerry had caused, then the trashed house, and so he kicked open the gate and walked confidently up the path then into Jerry’s house. He walked into his bedroom, and then upturned the bed, sending him flying in a heap, tangled in his sheet onto the floorboards. Aware of the noise he had already made, Arty leaped over to him, cleaving down on his shin with the plank of wood, snapping the bone cleanly in half. When Jerry started to scream, he swung like a golfer across his head, and with a satisfying ‘thunk’, the noise stopped. Arty pulled himself from taking another swing, and then realized the full implications of what just happened. In a flash of reality, he came to that he had broken into a house, and tried to kill the owner. The wood fell from his shaking hands, and he realized that he would be hunted by the police from now on. ‘I think it might be time to leave this place.’ Heading along the dirt highway to a different city, slightly hung-over and still shocked at himself, Arty judged the events of the past 24 hours. He was trying to find an excuse for what he had done, but no real reason ever came to mind. He had been bullied, sure, but that still provoked no massive response. Even though all he had had been littered, that’s still only a small deal. No, Arty had over reacted at the abuse from someone who thought they were better than him, and that reaction had destroyed his entire life. He would now be arrested, charged with several offenses, and probably put away for life, or even worse. He thought as he looked into the distance, that small things can screw you over. He smiled at the thought of beating Jerry, and was shocked at himself. He came to the realization that the actions of others are so powerful, that they shape other people’s lives. It’s amazing, but now he felt better from the whole thing in some way. He finally had stood up to someone, and abused the opportunity to be equal to someone by bringing himself down to a whole new level. He was the worst of all the people that bullied him put together. He hadn’t changed, but they had enabled him to be the worst he could. It’s funny, they created a monster, he thought as he chuckled at his own misfortune.
 * The previous day… **