I Am Elliot

Michael Pytkiewicz

Description

Elliot is a socially illusive man who emigrated from South Africa to Ireland and then to the Netherlands. He has chosen to isolate himself on the outskirts of Eindhoven to prevent feeling for another. Elliot is a man with a remarkably strong character, facing many ‘hard to deal with’ topics, such as the suicide of his brother, the divorce of his parents, being sent to a boarding school at a young age, being arrested at age ten, several attempted suicides, facing homelessness on two occasions and many other abnormal ordeals. Elliot struggles to deal with the memories and nightmares of his haunting past and decides to work through them by jotting down the pain in a note pad. Whilst facing his demons, Elliot bumps into a Dutch woman that takes his breath away. The two fall for one another and try to work on turning things into an official relationship, but Katrien’s substance-abusing ex-boyfriend intervenes every so often, adding more strain on the already-crumbling Elliot. The main character is a prime example of a decent man who strives to keep chivalry and common courtesy alive in this dog-eat-dog world.

Sujets

• Adventure (Guyana)
• Adventure

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
• Date de parution: 30 novembre 2020
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781528969611
• Langue: English

Extrait

I Am Elliot
Michael Pytkiewicz
Austin Macauley Publishers
2020-11-30
I Am Elliot About the Author Dedication Copyright Information © Chapter 1 Take a Hard Look Chapter 2 Baby Steps Chapter 3 Toddle Tale Chapter 4 It’s Unfolding Chapter 5 The Good, the Bad and the Hook-Up Chapter 6 War Never Changes Chapter 7 Troublesome Chapter 8 I Admit Chapter 9 It’s Dark out Here Chapter 10 Sailing Smoother Seas Chapter 11 The Quiet Before the Storm Chapter 12 The Double-Edged Sword Chapter 13 Surprise Mon Amour Chapter 14 Turned Around Chapter 15 An Abyss of Anguish Chapter 16 Manhood and Hardships Chapter 17 All Grown Up Chapter 18 Happy Endings Are for Fairy Tales
About the Author
Michael Pytkiewicz is a South African author from the small town of Secunda, Mpumalanga, and is an advocate for mental health awareness and suicide. Having faced many ordeals of his own, he tries to raise awareness around such topics and engages in various events for these causes. Michael uses this novel to showcase how people can change through hard work, how important the relationships with others are and how people with mental illnesses suffer under the surface. Michael works in the financial services sector and is an active rugby player for Newbridge Rugby Club.
Dedication
I dedicate this book to my brothers, Jerome Pytkiewicz and Gabriel Pytkiewicz, who ultimately helped me perceive the world in a non-narcissistic manner and gave me a purpose to fight when I didn’t want to.
Copyright Information ©
Michael Pytkiewicz (2020)
The right of Michael Pytkiewicz to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781528938617 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781528969611 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2020)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Chapter 1

Take a Hard Look
Hidden, about five kilometres away from civilisation, in a dark forest, shrouded by peerless pines and opulent oaks lies a large mahogany coloured, cottage styled home. With support pillars on the porch, holding the upstairs terrace in place and a fancy black SUV out front. There’s the pleasant sight of a small lake some 75 m from the front door, where both the sun and the moon place their reflections. This isolated dwelling is a prison for most but a palace for one…one of obscure nature and a haunting past…one Elliot Smith. This abode; a purchase made five years prior with no debt or credit, just smart investments and extraordinary savings, is a dream come true, a goal reached for this peculiar man.
A matte-red tie, half undone, but still knotted…an overdue five o’clock shadow and the lingering scent of hard liquor shapes the ‘successful’ image Elliot created for himself. He walks over to his open planned lounging area, places his hands behind his head and lets out a slimy, crackling sigh as he throws himself onto this dark brown three-seater sofa piece in front of the fire he lit an hour prior. He seems on edge, slightly under pressure, but not family life pressure, not work pressure, it’s something deeper, something he tried burying a long time ago, hoping it wouldn’t come back to haunt him, something he knows he wants to get off his chest.
The mood is deep and persistent; a thunderstorm slowly brews up outside, thick, white smoke rises from the chimney, and an unclosed window creates the stereotypical howling sound from a 90s horror movie. Staring at the almost burnt-out flames, Elliot reaches for his just-about-empty tumbler, filled with his favourite Scotch whiskey on the rocks. He sips it slowly while the reflections of the flames dance loudly in his glassy eyes, feeding his unsteady soul. He snaps out of it and puts the empty glass down on the table beside him. With a drunken swoop forward, he gets his intoxicated self up, almost planting his face into the freshly polished flooring. Elliot walks over to the slightly dusty, vintage record player in the corner of the room; a prize he acquired after outbidding a classic collector from Sweden. He reaches for his favourite record, a classic, Beethoven, blows the dust from it and places it in position. Elliot rotates the crank three times and lowers the arm so that the diamond point stylus lies on the very start of the record. An empty, soft, crackling sound fills the room, inflating the drunk with anxiety, but the tune starts playing harmoniously a few seconds later. Elliot’s eyes close and a tiny smug smile is let out in acceptance of the musical masterpiece. The classicals have always calmed him down, even when he was a mere lad, but the photos of a long-forgotten home and the haunting memories unpleasantly mix with the seven glasses of whiskey frothing in his belly, making it harder for him to relax, to find this inner peace he fought so hard trying to discover. Tonight, will be harder than most. Elliot finds himself lost in the sounds of an era long gone, humming to the tune coming from the old music box, but before his background vocals can assist the perfect melody, he feels a tingle in his urethra. He backs away from the sounds and makes his way to the bathroom . Down the hall, third door on the right , something he mentions to most of his one-night stands that prefer sex in front of naked flames opposed to the traditional bedroom. After stumbling and nearly falling over a few times, he finds himself on his feet, hovering over the toilet, going about his business; his aim isn’t on par tonight, the whiskey clearly beating him like a red-headed stepchild. He starts criticising his actions, how did you pull all those ladies? You clearly don’t know how to use it. I’m actually surprised your dick hasn’t fallen off because of your slutty ways . The feel-sorry-for-myself argument goes on, getting louder and more intense, it shifts from the porcelain bowl to the huge 1.5m x 1m rectangular mirror he installed on his own a while back. This is a common occurrence in this lonely household, he just wants someone to be there, to argue back, to never leave while he’s talking or making valid points, and he knows that the man in the mirror is stubborn, and that he won’t leave a fight that easy. The reflection starts bringing up the past, telling him how he could have changed things, how he could have made them better for himself and the ones around him, but Elliot’s only replies are excuses. It becomes more severe as profanity starts flying back and forth, both getting agitated with one another, the pure look of hate shines bright in Elliot’s eyes. He grinds his teeth as the reflection continues to insult him, pillorying his existence. “Enough!” he cries out in front of an audience of hand sanitizers, fresh towels and a French vanilla-scented candle positioned at the edge of the counter. Elliot punches the reflection square in the nose, ending the conversation right there. The impact leaves his hand lacerated and the mirror, shattered, with sharp pieces dispersed all over the counter top, in the sink and on the floor; luckily none stuck in his knuckles. The pain and sight of blood help him snap out of this argumentative state, allowing him to realise what he’s done. He falls down, nearly kneeling into the reflective shards, upset with his own self and the embarrassing situation. Elliot gets emotional and starts to whimper, the words that the reflection shared were true, and were starting to engrave themselves in his mind. He stands up from the cold, tiled floor and reaches into the medicine cabinet, scratching around for an anti-septic liquid bottle and a bandage. Elliot leans over the basin, still in a drunken state, and starts pouring the fiery-orange liquid over his wound, “Ah fuck!” he cries out as the stinging begins. He wraps the bandage tightly around his right hand, hoping that the bleeding doesn’t persist into the night. Elliot makes his way back to the lounge; a bit steadier compared to his previous trip, and fills his tumbler up to the halfway mark with The Devil’s Mouthwash. He knows that he has had too much and should probably sleep it off, but he’s angry with himself, the world, his past, his actions, and the lack of time machines in this day and age. Elliot switches the TV on and starts flicking through the Dutch channels that are available to him. After about 14 channels, something catches his attention; it’s a man, presumably in his 40s, speaking to a teenage girl, the caption at the bottom reads ‘Self-mutilation as a scapegoat’, interested, Elliot starts paying close attention. The presenter, more than likely a psychologist, says something special, “Every time you want to cut or burn yourself, write down on a sheet why you want to do it. The thing that most people get wrong…is not understanding that they control their own feelings, that they choose their happiness. When we are faced with tough situations, it can affect how we think, and limit our perceptions on how to get out of it. Writing down feelings and thoughts is a good way to track progress out of a certain situation, a good way to express feelings without conforming to the notion that you need to respect the people around you, you just write what yo