Happiness is a Finite Resource

Chapter 1: Out of the Frying Pan...

It beats prison.

I'll admit, in Prison there weren't any 6AM mornings, nor did I have to tolerate my father yelling that breakfast is ready when all I want is sleep. In prison I was not forced to go to school to learn useless bullshit that won't make my life any better and I didn't have any real responsability for my own actions. Prison lacked a lot of the things that I now despise about my life.

But, this is still better than Prison. Because in Prison the world spins without you, the whole world, the lives of the people you care about, the people you hate, your friends, your enemies, the ones you loved, everything just keeps spinning. Somethings spin out of control, somethings spin perfectly in tune, but either way, you are powerless to change the way the world spins. The only thing you can do is sit in a Cell and think. I took my three years and did a lot of thinking. I learned only one thing from my years of contemplation, I don't want to go back.

So for now, I will accept my life as it stands. But just because I don't want to go back, just because life is better, doesn't mean it's good.

"Tanner, get up! I made Pancakes!"

I roll out of my bed, and take a look at my surroundings. My room is plain, I guess years of being an absentee father meant that my dad had forgotten my interests. I guess years behind bars meant that I forgot a little bit too.

I walk up to my Dresser and open the top drawer, I'm astounded by what I see, "Who the fuck would ever need these many Kackies?" Reluctantly, I grab a pair from the dresser and then I move down to the lower drawers only to discover that plaid dress shirts are pretty much the only thing in the dresser that still fit me. I reluctantly put on my clothes, looking more like a reject character from the Office than anything else.

I walk down the steps and situate myself at the dinner table. My Father looks at me and smiles, "I forgot if you like chocolate in your pancakes so the top one has them and the bottom one doesn't."

I take a fork and bite into the pancake. The pancake is so dense and overcooked that it tastes more like chocolate flavored styrofoam than actual food. I reluctantly continue eating.

I don't hate my father. He's the absentee parent of the century. He abandoned mg family when I was just eight and I guess I still hold that against him. But beyond that, I'm just glad he's here now. Besides, if he wasn't then I'd have to live with mom.

My dad grabs a stack of pancakes and sits across from me. "I already packed up your bag, it's got everything you need for your classes. I went to the back to school parent-teacher conference while you were still at the penitentiary, so I knew all the stuff you needed and just shoved it into your backpack. I also stuck a lunch in there, just in case the school food sucks-" He takes a bite of a pancake and gags, "Oh man, these are awful. You know- you don't need to eat these. I can run you to I-Hop or something because these are absolutely horrendous."

I push my plate forward, "I'm not really hungry anyway."

"I don't blame you, just one bite of this horrid monstrosity of a pancake has killed my appetite too." He pushed his plate forward and looks at me smiling, "So! You glad to be out of Prison?"

"Yeah..." I shrug, "I just think it's a bummer I've only been out two days and I'm already having to go to school."

"You know what they say, 'out of the frying pan, into the fire.'" I don't react, so my father continues talking, "Trust me, you've got this. Just remember that no matter what happens you're better off than you were."

My vision wanders to the picture sitting above the fireplace. Surrounded by a blue frame, is a photo of me, my sister, and my dad standing in front of Mount Rushmore. My mother would be there too if it weren't for the fact that my father violently removed her from the picture using a pair of scissors. My eyes focus on my sister as despair once again starts closing in, "Not all of us ended up better off."