Sky High, But Falling Apart

It’s like the wolf of wall street, if I could decide Jordan Belfort’s life.

Bill Jameson was not born into wealth, nor did he aspire to gain it. All his life he had wanted nothing more than a normal life, a wife, kids, a steady jobs, he aspired to be the average American. Bill, called “Billy,” by most was an interesting guy to say the least, he had a decent education at a little college outside New York City, but never did much with his degree which unfortunately was in philosophy. He was passionate, but his degree did little for him in the way of monetary wealth. He was content with his life out of college. He got a job as an intern in a law firm after receiving a few good words from one of his friends he had met in school, and was making enough to support himself modestly. He was an idealistic philosophical man, he wanted nothing more than to think freely and have the money to act on his thoughts, spreading his ideas never was a priority and he only really discussed his personal thinking except for when he was asked or when he was making an argument. Nevertheless he was passionate and when his boss at he law firm gave him the task of handling a case about a man accused of not providing his ID to a police officer when asked to, he jumped right aboard. The firm had hoped to attain a plea bargain, but Jameson was inclined to do otherwise, after all philosophers generally aren’t compromising people.

Fast forward to the case, Bill Jameson, fresh off of his bar exam is acting as a defense attorney for a man with a curious case and a the chance of a meager sentence. For Bill it isn’t about the sternness of the sentence but the accusation itself. Bill is familiar with his rights and with the defendant’s rights as well, and in Jameson’s home state of South Carolina, any person who is not driving or suspected of a crime is not required to present or carry identification. This is a logical law and there is no legal justification for the man’s arrest. Bill is determined to get the officer reprimanded and the defendant released.

3 months later and the trial is still underway, it is gaining national attention and the entire nation knows the officer and the suspect’s name. Bill has not faltered in his defense and the officer struggles to remain hopeful for his job.

Bill Jameson wins the case, the suspect goes home with a settlement from the police precinct for their mistreatment, and Jameson has made hundreds of thousands of dollars from both the firm and the national attention.

Never did he dream of being a millionaire but just a few months after the case ended, sure enough his bank account had 6 zeros following a 7 in it. He was a rich man with a poor mans mindset.

He began to test his luck with psychedelics and eventually settled on LSD as his favorite, it allowed him to take his philosophy to another level, as well as his knowledge of the law. He became a changed man and began to use many drugs recreationally, he had the money, so he figured why not? After a year of heavy drug use he had become addicted to opioids and needed help. Instead of asking for it he took it upon himself to clean up. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t shake his addiction and lost most of his fortune to his cruel mistress, oxycodone. He was no longer content with himself like he had been when he was young, or even at the beginning of the year when he was occasionally using LSD. He was no longer a philosopher either, he had too much pain and mental anguish to consider life in it’s totality and instead began having suicidal thoughts.

Bill had become something he never expected, and he didn’t know where to turn. After his mother put him into rehab he got sober after just 6 months and went home to live with his family. He had invested the remainder of his fortune into various businesses and was doing well, he supported his immediate family financially and the supported him emotionally. He was his old self. He was content.

Christmas eve, just a few days after Jameson’s 31st birthday while plugging in the Christmas tree lights, a bulb caught fire. The tree went up in seconds and next the ceiling. Within minutes, the Jameson family home was engulfed in a hellish blaze that seemed it would never end. Jameson’s mother and father, as well as his sister stood in awe as the inferno destroyed nearly all of their material possessions. It was 3 minutes before they noticed Bill was not with them. As they cried in horror, Bill came to the upstairs window and waved a last goodbye to his beloved family before combusting totally. Billy had died in a passionate conflagration, just as he had lived in one.

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Spencer Healy

I go to university, I’m a struggling optimist. some of these are proper narrative pieces and some are more poetry, others lean towards stream of consciousness.