Have you ever wondered if you are cursed?

well as I stare at my shitty apartment door and struggle with the rusted, beaten deadbolt after another day of failed interviews and disinterested employers, I can only come to one conclusion.

Life hates me, Oh and my upstairs neighbours need to break up, those insults are getting spicy! But where was I? ah yes, self-loathing and the meaning of life by Caleb Allen Harper..... heh.

interrupted from my musings by the stubborn lock finally giving way with a satisfying click, I step into my 2nd story apartment and am welcomed home to the musty smell of dirty laundry and day-old T.V dinners.

Taking a moment to once again wallow in self-pity, I can't help but regret the choices I made to end up like this.

I should have stuck with basketball as dad and Vicky said.

Half-aware of my surroundings, I make my way to my too-small kitchen and can't help but stare at the growing brown stain of what I presume to be water damage in ever-increasing annoyance.

note to self: complain to landlord AGAIN.

I open the freezer door and groan as I remember I didn't restock my supply of garbage food and will have to head back out to the convenience store if I want to eat tonight.

Now sufficiently pissed at the universe for this injustice, I turn around and walk into the living room where I find a note from my roommate sitting on the coffee table. It informed me in colourful words that rent was coming up and that I better have my share this time because he won't be covering my share again. Anxiety begins to gnaw away at me, as I read.

It was bad enough that I had to ask him last month when I got unceremoniously fired from my last job at the convenience store. Now I'm 2 and half weeks through this month and I haven't even got so much as a call back from anywhere else!

I hate the idea, but cutting my losses and moving back out east is looking mighty tempting.

Still, I didn't have the energy to deal with that right now so I threw the note back on the table then half leaned half stretched across it to grab my baby, yes the only thing that cares about me.

my darling guitar.

Ah, now that I can finally relax and pluck away lovingly up and down minor and major scale progressions looking for a sound that would stick, I can reflect on my short 19 years of life.

I was born to one Joseph and Casey Harper, a lower-middle-class blue-collar family that split apart at the seams almost immediately after I was born.

Mom didn't exactly have the most stable of employment so dad won custody of me. But don't worry! mom made it out fine I think, she managed to snag a handsome widower with a daughter of his own by the name of Victoria, they have been happily married ever since.

As for my dad, he made it damn clear if he found me working in the oil fields when I grew up he would kill me himself. So in short he was strict. but it wasn't all doom and gloom 24/7, in-fact it was my old man that introduced me to and nurtured my love for music!

I can still remember the first time he popped in queen on our car stereo.

God, I miss that CD.

As I grew up my parents came to an agreement that they wanted me and my step-sister to interact as much as possible -without them being anywhere near each other- which was pretty easy since she was only 16 months younger than me. So they made sure we went to the same schools growing up. which in hindsight I appreciate way more.

We got along as well as can be expected of siblings caught in the middle of a very toxic divorce.

Which is to say not very well at first. I used to bully her in kindergarten in the typical ways all kids do when they are jealous. Mostly I think I just wanted attention from my mother considering how much she doted in her.

But as we grew up together we learned to respect each other, and eventually, we became close. In fact, I would go as far as to say that she is my best friend!

I am not sure what that says about me, but hey it is the truth.

It still doesn't mean that I wasn't deeply jealous about how much my mom loves her. I can't even remember the last conversation we had, or when we had it.

Could it have been 2? no, 3 years since we last talked.

I have been really careful to not let that particular feeling affect my relationship with victoria though. She is too lovable to hate to my chagrin.

Anyway as we grew up I never had trouble getting good grades in school so I would help her with homework. and eventually when puberty hit it was thanks to her and my dad that I found myself on the starting lineup of my high school basketball team as the team's Shooting guard. They wouldn't stop bugging me that if I applied myself, my natural athleticism combined with my height of 6 feet would make me a star of the team in no time.

I did alright if I do say so myself. But my heart was always somewhere else.

Namely when I turned 12 my obsession with all things metal and guitar really started to take off, and I would hound my old man relentlessly to buy me a guitar. It took a while and half a year of choirs, but eventually, I got my first guitar and immediately got to learning how to be the next Dimebag Derral!

Now if you combine my status as a starter on the local basketball team with my natural height and a love for music. You can bet your ass I was popular in high school!

You would think, right? I don't know why either but I have only ever had 1 girlfriend, and she broke up with me after 3 months.

Didn't even get to kiss her either.

Anyway, I bet you are wondering how a guy with my natural talents could end up in a shitty 2 room apartment on the bad side of Vancouver with no job or money to pay rent with?

Take a wild guess. I wanted to be a Rockstar! God, I'm such an idiot.

smiling depreciatingly at myself while leaning my head back against my couch and close my eyes, listening to the genesis of what I'm beginning to feel might be a banger I can feel the tension leave my shoulders and my mood is-

BANG

I'm vaguely aware I just bashed my head of the hard ground. hard.

Opening my eyes I slowly become more aware that I'm no longer staring at the roof of my apartment, nor the overcast sky of Vancouver in October, but the crystal clear blue sky of a mid-summer day.

"what the actual fuck?" I exclaim as I scrutinize the area where the ceiling of my apartment once was.

"Hey boy, you okay? that looked like it hurt." Says a voice I don't recognize from off to my left.

Launching myself up in alarm as I realize I'm not alone I do a quick spin to get my bearings only to find out I'm REALLY not alone. As far as my eyes could see row upon row of people standing in what I can almost recognize as a military column, all of whom I notice is just as confused and disoriented as I am.

I finish my full circle to find myself facing the man who addressed me earlier. he is an older man around 50 years old with tanned skin with greying brown hair styled in a classic combover, combined that with his cheap suit and he looks like your stereotypical ageing salesmen.

thoroughly disoriented and beginning to panic I did the only thing that seemed sensible. I grabbed him by his collar and slammed him to the ground pinning him underneath me and levelling him with my best accusing glare and yelling in his face.

"what the hell is going on? who the hell are you? and where did you take me!?"

.......... not my proudest moment.

"urgh, what the fuck you brat! get off me! I don't know any more than you do!"

"hey! get off him" "what the hell asshole!" "hey help me with this guy"

After a quick scuffle where the onlookers wrestled me off the poor old man and a few more moments trapped under the knee of what I'm pretty sure was a lumberjack did I finally calm down.

"you cooled down kid?" a mechanic with the words "CRAZY PETE'S AUTO" emblazoned on the front of his overalls asked from behind the guy with his knee in my teeth.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Good! I don't need this shit right now, you try anything and it's back into the dirt got it?" said the lumberjack, as he slowly removed his knee from my face.

feeling like the biggest clown in the circus I turned to where the old man was intending to apologize only to see he made the right call and dipped.

"shit"

this isn't going well, whatever it is. Without that initial hit of adrenaline panic slowly shifted to dread and confusion. And as I scanned the horizon for any semblance of an answer as to why all these people were suddenly gathered here, and noticing with guilty relief that my earlier situation wasn't all that unique as several altercations were happening all around me.

On a side note, I think I can see the edge of the column. Pushing my way in that direction with no idea what I plan to accomplish, I make sure to keep my eye on the fights that have been breaking out, to make sure I don't get caught up in them. I also note that there doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason as to who was taken. Be it race gender or body type, it's all random.

Shouldering past the last few bodies I immediately notice that it is noticeably cooler on the outside of the pile of bodies and that we appear to be on a rather flat and grassy plain, though there are several small rolling hills further................ which ways north? looking up into the sky I find that the sun is directly overhead. which makes it useless, screw it! the hill is in front of me and to my right. There, now that that is done with I turn my attention back to the large gathering of bodies I found myself in and begin counting down the line.

and am immediately stunned by how many people are actually here. from what can tell there must be tens of thousands of people here! I didn't even bother counting the length of the gathering because I couldn't see the end, as for the width I estimate somewhere ABOVE 60.

This is ridiculous! what could warrant having all these people hear? this makes no fucking sense!?

Before I could vent my growing frustrations I find my face once again slammed into the dirt and a heavyweight settle on my chest. this time however I am distinctly aware that there is nothing physically pushing me down and, that every single person around me was also eating dirt as well.

I started to panic once again and struggle against whatever is keeping me on the ground with all my might, people started screaming.

then I noticed something.

it was above us I think, I couldn't turn my head to see for sure.

then

I heard

that voice

the weight on my chest got heavier to the point that I was struggling to breathe, it felt like that terrible voice was choking my very soul.

WELCOME, ALL, AND MY CONDOLENCES.