Starbuck:
Starsky Buckley
Life on Earth:
Born: November 20th, 1991
- Died: October 29th, 2011
Starbuck is my spiritual name, given to me by a higher power. From what a higher power had seen in me, he felt I was righteous of this planet at a time like now. I do not quite remember our discussion, but it might come to me. I'm still trying to comprehend what had happened when I crossed over. I'm fully aware I have passed on, but it's not like I had expected it would have been.
I remember I had left home, it was quarter after eight in the evening, October 28th. I was so stoned, I had the munchies and I was going down the road on my bicycle to the closest convenience store. I was feeling something like Sunchips, Reeses or something... I knew for a fact, though, I was getting a 2 litre bottle of Coca-Cola.
I felt a buzz in my pocket, so I reached in because somebody had texted my phone. The buzzing continues a bit longer, so it's a phonecall. I answered the phone, still concentrating on where I'm going.
"Hello," I greeted. "Hey, Starsky, how ya doin'," said my buddy, Curtis. "Not too bad, just headin' down Hillcrest Avenue on my bike to get some food. What's on the go tonight? If you're not doing anything stop on by," I said. "Sounds good, Buck, I'll swing by in about half an hour, see ya then," he said, concluding our conversation.
Putting the phone back in my pocket, I came down to the bottom of the hill and onto the main straight stretch. The convenience store was up ahead, so I kicked it into a higher gear after the momentum of the hill wore off. Great way to travel when you're high, it's all downhill, until the going back home part.
When I reached the convenience store, I set my bike against the wall. I walked in and followed store policy, taking my backpack off before I ventured around anywhere. I went by the chips, grabbing a big bag of Ruffles Sour Cream 'n Bacon. I know I said I was going to get Sunchips, but so what? Then I go and grab a 2L bottle of Coke, eye up the candy-bar deals and get a Mr. Big and Reese Big Cups, taking them to the cashier.
He scans them through, it totals up to $7.29 and I got $15 on me. "Give me a couple of break-opens there... actually, four," I say, and that adds two more bucks to my total. I grab a Bic lighter and that brings it to $12.12. I pay up and get some change, then chuck all that shit in my bag.
When I leave the convenience store I look over to find my bike and notice it's been stolen. "Aww, what rotten luck! If I see that fuckin' punk riding around on my freebie he's going to be in for it! God damn," and I mutter on. I won that bicycle from a Tim Horton's Roll-Up-the-Rim contest, never paid anymore to get it than a couple of bucks, but still.
Calming my nerves I pull out my tin from my back pocket and take out a joint. After baptizing it, I blaze it up and start to puff on it. I check out my cellphone and it's 8:27 p.m. Curtis will be around in probably twenty minutes or so. A car pulls up in the parking lot in front of me, lights shining at me. It turns off and the lights go out.
It was a 2002 Chevrolet Cavlier, z22, 5-speed. A man steps out of the driver's side while his woman sits in the car. He walks past me without making any eye-contact, focused on what he's gone in the store for. The man has the cashier check one of his lottery tickets from the night before, and he's told he's won $50. He buys a pack of cigarettes and some more lottery tickets, gets those scanned and wins a couple more bucks. He leaves a little bit richer, nods at me on the way out and heads off in the opposite direction of Hillcrest. That's when I began to go home.
I started to go up the sidewalk, heading up the hill. Home was about twelve minutes away and it was already 8:33 p.m. By the time I'd be home, I'd be gone for a total of half an hour. Curtis would be there, we both were able to score across town the other on a good-grade of weed. Real premium shit, I'm telling ya. I've had hash and oil in my freezer for awhile, it's always a good treat.
I heard an engine further up the road roaring after a squeel. Some young kid must have just gotten his license and went out to enjoy it with his buddies or impress his lady with something he doesn't know. Perhaps somebody's just toying around and testing his car, there are a lot of possibilities. I see car lights coming up over the hill, fresh to see as there aren't anymore cars coming up or going down. He literally ramps over the top of the hill, hitting the ground hard. I heard something clunk and break, with fragments of metal coming out from the right passenger tire. He barrells down the hill, gaining speed. This guy is nuts.
I take a deep breath of anxiety, I really hate being on this side of the road when a lunatic is speeding down it. He doesn't have a chance of slowing down going past me, and I wonder, when is somebody to do something about people coming down here so fast? Things never change, people never listen and there are always examples of why life is unfair. "I hope you're your own mechanic, buddy," I say as he comes down the hill on the verge of passing me. He hits a pot-hole and something like his tire-rod-end or ball-joint go on him, veering the car in my direction. My eyes widen and he pins me against the wall that runs parallell with the sidewalk, going up the hill.
I'm crushed, my stomach and midsection is completely squashed. I'm spitting up blood and I'm having trouble breathing now. My ribs must be busted and internal organs fucked all to Hell. I collapse myself on the hood of the carn and start to get weak, I'm in shock. He gets out. "Sir, I'm so sorry! I'm calling an ambulance," he proclaims, dialing his phone immediately.
I heard some of his conversation with the one on the other line, only vaguely though as I passed out due to blood loss. When the ambulance got there, they took me to the hospital right away. I was lying on the bed, being operated on and my chances for survival were very slim. My friends and family were there, I could see them in a different view and could tell each one cared for my well-being.
Curtis waited at my house for over an hour until he went down town and saw the scene. He was at the hospital ever since and told my family, had it not been for him nobody would have known of this ordeal. I'm grateful of a friend like Curtis. As for the man who hit me, he'd been drinking and went to go bar-hopping with his friends. He's now serving time in jail for D.U.I. and Cause of Death While D.U.I. as well as copious amounts of other charges. His friends got off scot-free, although they knew he was drinking at the time, they just hadn't stopped him from driving.
My hearbeat got weaker in the early morning and they were keeping a watchful eye on me. My condition was deteriorating and they weren't sure if I was going to make it past noon. They were right and it was unfortunate to see my life fade away like that. I stopped breathing because my lungs collapsed and the doctors tried to revive me. My heart then stopped beating and then they tried to kickstart my heart. Effortlessly, they tried, but to no avail. I was pronounced dead at 8:40 a.m. and the medical doctors broke the news to all who loved me.
