The date was 6/18/05,
We thought we knew everything_of course we did, we were young enough. Anyways, I- Martin Erikssön; and my brother Tyler, were lying about on a Saturday, twelve past noon; when our mom ragged on us for having'no ambition', I wanted to laugh but there would've been accusations of disrespect, flying around left and right, and that lecture was one we've heard many 'a time before. There was a yard sale- at the end of our street that weekend, and I dragged Tyler along, mainly to feed my personal ego; but his at thirteen was worse than mine at sixteen. The fusion stopped_ Tyler ran to find a skateboard; while I aimlessly wandered. There were fancy plates, and retro things(that resembled replicas) abound, but my mind trailed in front of me like it always tended to do.
"You lost, kid?" some random neighbour shouted in my direction, I turned my head_ snapping out of my daze and locked my eyes on the table he managed. "Stuff here's pretty old, but someone like you might take an interest in it" he commented- in a sny tone of voice. This guy looked like he'd be in charge, of an outdoor- grunge revival event or something, although my mind couldn't decide on the finer aspects. I got closer and set my eyes on the centre-left and right_ nothing but counterfeit posters, and merch from underground acts, I didn't know what to think. Then a beat up looking tape_ sitting at the right edge, caught my eye- at first I was reluctant to look at it for myself; but my curiosity won out.
"What's on that?" I asked, nervously gesturing towards the tape- he looked at it for a second, before returning his gaze to mine. I remember him sighing, but I don't remember the reason-maybe there was none. He picked it up with a scarred finger- and slid in closer to my direction, I had no idea what he would tell me next. It was closer, and I could read ‘98' written in crude marker, on the narrow edge, I got uncharacteristically anxious- though the reason escapes me at the moment. Back then- I thought he could've been a junkie of some kind, nowadays I get embarrassed by my behaviour, it's kind of strange when I think about it.
"My old music from high school, it's pretty bad" he replied, an almost dead look in his eyes. Surprisingly-he'd only missed a night's sleep "I won't miss it, the player's on the house...if you buy the tape that is", he added_and I was a bit confused, but I gave in. He shot me a thumbs up as I walked off, Tyler's spent forty bucks on a skateboard sponsored by Tony Hawk, but I barely looked at it and got back in the car. We didn't talk the whole ride home- and I found that odd, but all I did was wonder what he was emo about this time, I don't think he ever told me.
Without saying anything- I brought my stuff up to my room. A few old notebooks made their way onto the floor, in order to make room for the player_thing, I eventually sorted those into some other part of the room itself. I finally put Side A in, and the guy wasn't lying- it was pretty bad, but I just assumed they didn't have any better recording equipment; although I found it better background noise than music. The other side started out normal- but a minute and thirty seconds in, there was feedback, and then the music abruptly ended. I thought maybe the tape player was broken, but I looked and everything appeared to be in its right spot.
I instant messaged my friend Kane, and after I explained the situation to him- he asked to see the tape- so I rode my dad's bike to his house and delivered it. For the next few weeks after that, he kept talking about hearing 'closely' at around the point I heard feedback, so I listened to tape again one night_but I didn't hear it. Years later- I found out Kane had Schizophrenia, and pieces of this story just then started coming together. His brother messaged me on Facebook thirteen years later- and I finally found out what happened to him, since we haven't spoken since my Freshman year of college. I'll probably burn the tape once I'm done with this_I don't think I wanna remember the story behind it anymore.