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[WP] Use "Death, death comes for us all" in a happy story with a happy ending | Every year around Valentine’s day my dad has some big business meeting and goes away for a couple of weeks. That leaves me in charge of my brother and my two sisters while he is away. They are well behaved usually but its been really busy at my dad’s office so I’ve been watching them five to six days a week. The twins Sara and Mara play field hockey, so everyday my brother Phil and I walk over from the high school to the junior high and cheer them on. We always save a seat for dad, but he never shows up because the one time he did one of the coaches got hit with the ball and it was some big fiasco with an ambulance and everything. Phil is in a band so most days after the game he leaves with his friends and me and the girls walk home where I make mac and cheese for dinner. “Hey Baxter” I look back from the dishes to see Mara sitting on the counter. “What’s up?” I respond knowing exactly what this conversation will be about. “When do you think dad will be home?” she asks in her sweetest voice as if her tone will change the answer I give her every night. “You know he works late, especially this week. Valentine’s is tomorrow and I doubt he will be home until the end of this week.” Mara sighs, hops off the counter and grabs my cell phone off the counter. “Can I call him, pleeeeeeease?” I wipe my hands dry, turn around and grab my phone from her. “Yeah, just use the house phone. I have to use mine to get a hold of Phil, he was supposed to be home by now.” Mumbling under my breath I walk back into the badly decorated living room. I really wish dad would start dating again. This place could use a womans touch, after mom passed away he decided to “redecorate the parlor”. He put a couple of animal head mounts and some weird paintings up along with a fresh coat of black paint. I pull up a seat on the leather sofa next to Sara who is watching some lame horror movie while I’m waiting for Phil to answer. “Hello?” he says, the noise in the background makes his voice barely audible. “Phil, where the hell are you?” I ask, trying to sound as intimidating as I can. In between howls of guitar riffs he responds, “Almost done, I’ll be headed out in ten—” My other ear is suddenly interrupted by Mara yelling my name. “BAXTER! Dad wants to talk to you!” With a huge groan I tell Phil to hurry up and I get up to grab the corded phone from Mara. “Hello?” I say almost stuttering, its been weeks since dad asked to speak with me over the phone. “Hey sport!” he says in the cheeriest voice I only remember him having while mom was around. “I wanted to let you know that I’m working on a big project and I’ll be home on the 21st! I can’t wait to see you guys, I missed you so much. The boss even said I can have a vacation if I pull this project off!” I’m filled with as much excitement that a 17 year old boy can have. I can’t wait to hug him when he walks through the door and show him how everything has been under my control since he left; he will be so proud. “Really?” I ask in almost in disbelief. “Yeah buddy, lets do something as a family when I’m home. We can go to an amusement park or go to the movies or even the new ice cream shoppe your sister told me about!” I tell him how amazing that would be and ask him what his project he’s working on. He tells me its for a night club in Rhode Island and its going to change the way people look at all clubs. We hang up and for the first time in a year and a half he tells me he loves me. It’s the night of the twentieth and all of us are gathered around the tv waiting for dad’s big project to be aired, he told Sara last night it was going to be so epic that all the news teams in New England were going to air it. A little after 11 the news casters break for a developing story in Rhode Island. This is it! Dad’s big project he wanted us to see! The newscasters are speaking almost anxiously as they say “Breaking news at Station Night Club…” All of us move closer to the edge of the couch. “Has burned down this evening. 165 people died in a fire that was started by pyrotechnics”. The door opens and dad walks in dressed to the nines in his pitch black suit and bone white tie. We all jump to our feet and give him the biggest family hug. Death, death comes for us all; but tonight he’s spending time with his family at the drive in movie theater with all of his kids. I love my dad. | Death, death comes for us all. This is a happy story with a happy ending. Jim was 20, no wait, Jim was 25, or perhaps Jim was just Jim. I think. See Jim had this interesting problem. Jim could not look at the world through rose coloured glasses. They sat crooked on his nose and impaired his vision something awful. Jim would often sit there, in that exact place, and picture a world where he could not die. This, of course not the problem, in so far as Jim could perceive it. The problem was this; in this perfect world that Jim created, he was, in fact, Death. Now his cloak was worn, and quite honestly, the curve of his scythe matched the curve of his back almost completely. So in this world Jim is Death and Jim met Sam. Sam met Death.
"Who are you?" asked Sam
"Why I am Death." Said JimDeath
"But, why?"
"Ahh, an elegant question, why are weasels weasels?"
"well I assume its because they are so good at getting out of sticky situations."
Jim mused. An odd one this Sam was, He had solved his first riddle with such unquestionable logic. Pressing on he presently told Sam that Sam was dead.
"You are dying." Stated Jim
"I thought I was dead?" asked Sam
"I mean, you will be, soon. Dead that is." said Death
"Why?" Sam asked
JimDeath crumpled up his face in consternation. "Well, because I am here and I am Death, and if I am here then it must be so."
"I guess that makes sense." said Sam "How will I die then?"
"By bullet." Said JimDeath, giving Sam a look of well practiced, motherly concern.
"But I am only a troubled street-tough who has had no opportunities to avoid this speeding bullet." Stated Sam
JimDeath sighed, unrolled his rolled scroll and scrutinized it under his great big furrowed brows. "Well it says here that you wrote 'TOMS MOM HAS A FAT PUSY' in big green letters on the side of that local convenience store that all you hooligans all hang around."
"Pussy" stated Sam
"No, it quite clearly says PUSY here."
"Well I was in a rush and besides, she does." Stated Sam plainly
This was true, JimDeath knew all.
"And besides, Tom bared his teeth at me the other day and I read that this was a sign of aggression in animals." Said Sam
"Oh," mumbled JimDeath "well I didn't know that. Still, your time has come."
"Can't you just forget about me and go back home?" Sam asked
JimDeath was on the verge of tears now. Like Sam knew anything about his home life. The fighting had gotten worse. His wife and children hated him. Partly because he was Death, partly because he was Jim.
"I have made exceptions before, but not for naught. What can you give me?" asked JimDeath
Sam unzipped his backpack, pulled out a half used can of green spray paint and offered it to JimDeath.
"Disposing of the evidence eh" JimDeath said with raised eyebrows. The perfect crime, or not, I suppose since Sam was about to be fed a bullet by the very man whose mother he insulted. The gesture touched him nonetheless. Sam had nothing but this spray can and was willing to give it up for something as trivial as life.
"Keep it," stated JimDeath, his chin held an inch higher by thoughts of his soon to be charity "and you know what, keep your life as well, it's not like I get any satisfaction from killing you, nor does it affect my christmas bonus. When you deal in billions, one life hardly makes an impact.
"Thanks, I guess." said Sam, clutching the green spray can in his hand "well, I suppose I should be off now, trouble-making and such. I just have to ask one question, how are you going to stop Tom from shooting me?"
"I suppose I will just have his mother hit by a car or something, that should pull his attention away from you, either way, you needn't concern yourself with the details." JimDeath said
"OK then, well, see you around I suppose." said Sam
"Yeah, Yeah." Said JimDeath, looking at the young youth. Somehow he felt that he would be seeing Sam again very soon.
As Sam rounded the corner, ducking into the nearest alleyway, eyes alert for any open canvas, he paused at the back of the local supermart, pressed his finger to the nozzle of his spray can and wrote "TOMS MOM HAD A FAT PUSSY" in big bold green lettering.
|
|
[WP] Use "Death, death comes for us all" in a happy story with a happy ending | Every year around Valentine’s day my dad has some big business meeting and goes away for a couple of weeks. That leaves me in charge of my brother and my two sisters while he is away. They are well behaved usually but its been really busy at my dad’s office so I’ve been watching them five to six days a week. The twins Sara and Mara play field hockey, so everyday my brother Phil and I walk over from the high school to the junior high and cheer them on. We always save a seat for dad, but he never shows up because the one time he did one of the coaches got hit with the ball and it was some big fiasco with an ambulance and everything. Phil is in a band so most days after the game he leaves with his friends and me and the girls walk home where I make mac and cheese for dinner. “Hey Baxter” I look back from the dishes to see Mara sitting on the counter. “What’s up?” I respond knowing exactly what this conversation will be about. “When do you think dad will be home?” she asks in her sweetest voice as if her tone will change the answer I give her every night. “You know he works late, especially this week. Valentine’s is tomorrow and I doubt he will be home until the end of this week.” Mara sighs, hops off the counter and grabs my cell phone off the counter. “Can I call him, pleeeeeeease?” I wipe my hands dry, turn around and grab my phone from her. “Yeah, just use the house phone. I have to use mine to get a hold of Phil, he was supposed to be home by now.” Mumbling under my breath I walk back into the badly decorated living room. I really wish dad would start dating again. This place could use a womans touch, after mom passed away he decided to “redecorate the parlor”. He put a couple of animal head mounts and some weird paintings up along with a fresh coat of black paint. I pull up a seat on the leather sofa next to Sara who is watching some lame horror movie while I’m waiting for Phil to answer. “Hello?” he says, the noise in the background makes his voice barely audible. “Phil, where the hell are you?” I ask, trying to sound as intimidating as I can. In between howls of guitar riffs he responds, “Almost done, I’ll be headed out in ten—” My other ear is suddenly interrupted by Mara yelling my name. “BAXTER! Dad wants to talk to you!” With a huge groan I tell Phil to hurry up and I get up to grab the corded phone from Mara. “Hello?” I say almost stuttering, its been weeks since dad asked to speak with me over the phone. “Hey sport!” he says in the cheeriest voice I only remember him having while mom was around. “I wanted to let you know that I’m working on a big project and I’ll be home on the 21st! I can’t wait to see you guys, I missed you so much. The boss even said I can have a vacation if I pull this project off!” I’m filled with as much excitement that a 17 year old boy can have. I can’t wait to hug him when he walks through the door and show him how everything has been under my control since he left; he will be so proud. “Really?” I ask in almost in disbelief. “Yeah buddy, lets do something as a family when I’m home. We can go to an amusement park or go to the movies or even the new ice cream shoppe your sister told me about!” I tell him how amazing that would be and ask him what his project he’s working on. He tells me its for a night club in Rhode Island and its going to change the way people look at all clubs. We hang up and for the first time in a year and a half he tells me he loves me. It’s the night of the twentieth and all of us are gathered around the tv waiting for dad’s big project to be aired, he told Sara last night it was going to be so epic that all the news teams in New England were going to air it. A little after 11 the news casters break for a developing story in Rhode Island. This is it! Dad’s big project he wanted us to see! The newscasters are speaking almost anxiously as they say “Breaking news at Station Night Club…” All of us move closer to the edge of the couch. “Has burned down this evening. 165 people died in a fire that was started by pyrotechnics”. The door opens and dad walks in dressed to the nines in his pitch black suit and bone white tie. We all jump to our feet and give him the biggest family hug. Death, death comes for us all; but tonight he’s spending time with his family at the drive in movie theater with all of his kids. I love my dad. | Death, death comes for us all...and he's bringing cookies! |
|
[WP] A goldfish in a bowl that is present in a room where a married couple on the verge of divorce is having their last argument before they are divorced. | The people were moving and yelling. He didn't care. He was on the verge of something.
During all his life, he had moved around a liquid medium. And everything around him looked like it should. The castle was a castle, the algae were algae and the gravel was gravel. When he touched every corner in his domain, nothing seemed different. But the outer world, that beyond his domain, didn't look at all like his home.
At first he had thought that the rest of the world was weird like that, with shapes that changed and moved. It was an horror. But once, a face had appeared near the hard limit to his bubble of water. And so, he stopped sleeping inside the castle, trying to understand the shape of the figures.
He started trying to understand the way the world worked. At first, he modeled the world inside his domain, as it was closer at hand. At mouth. And it was relatively easy. But the shapes outside had to correspond to objects on the outside, so after seeing the face he started trying to see if there was a way that a shape could be deformed beyond comprehension if outside his domain.
But first, he had to understand why objects seemed to have different colors and luminosities. He called this phenomena "light", and he added it to his model as some kind of rays that irradiated from some objects and were reflected by others. He thought that color wasn't an innate property of objects themselves, but that it was given by light. Otherwise, it wouldn't make sense for the world to turn dark once The Great Light Machine turned off.
But if these rays were instant, the shapes on the outside shouldn't be deformed. And then, the face he had once seen shouldn't have become a smudge of pink and oranges. So he gave the rays a velocity, which he called "c".
And now he was starting to think: If light had a limit velocity, which was the maximum it could go, could it go slower?
And he was now thinking: If light could go slower, then its path could be diverged. But if so, what would it matter? He still couldn't predict the path a ray of light could take.
Unless...
Maybe...
There was some noise. He tried to filter it off. Surely, the noise could also be deformed, maybe there were some sound rays in the same manner that light rays were. Maybe they were two expressions of the same phenomenon. Could it be...?
If the light hit his domain at an angle... Assuming it's a perfectly even surface... Take the roof, for example...
More noise. Damn it. He tried harder. He went to his castle and started thinking.
If it got diverted by an angle, then it'd mean...
Even more noise. Damn. Did the feeding animal ever shut up? He was trying to understand the secrets of the universe here, damn it!
Now, if the same happened in a surface like his wall, it'd need to come tangentially to be undeformed, would it? But then what came from other sides would be deformed in other ways. How?
Even more noise. It was getting harder to concentrate.
Maybe the limits to his domain deformed light beyond what his medium itself deformed it. Maybe that's why the surface looked different from the rest...
He started taking pebbles from the gravel, trying to note down some details of the model he was making.
Or was it probable that light described curved paths? No, that wouldn't make sense. It'd need more things to explain the same phenomena, like a reason why the light on his roof would be differently deformed than the one on his walls.
And now the low-pitched noise was raising and annoying him some more. Damn! Wouldn't the feeding servant ever shut up?! He was trying to do science here!
No, wait, maybe it meant that light, curved or not, would travel differently because of his wall, and if it was curved then the parts below his wall, on the outside, would have paths that couldn't be predicted unless one was in there...
But then, how could he know if the light from the roof was more or less correspondent with the outside? Maybe the light source was 'below' him, or could it be...?
There had to be a relation between the speed of the light in his medium and the outside, but mayb-- The noise was unbearable.
Maybe...
He swept the pebbles with his tail in frustration. Would the humans ever shut the fuck up? | Despite what you may think at age five, fish can't actually hear what you say. Goldie knew this. And the people knew it too, but they'd still talk to Goldie as if she could, and Goldie would swim around happily in her tank as though she could. And it made for a very happy life for Goldie and her people.
Even though she didn't understand what they were saying, Goldie wasn't stupid. She had a brain, she just used it to do fish things instead of people things. Like swimming.
But emotions, emotions are universal. You could be a fish or a goat or a people and still understand when something was sad. (Dogs are especially good at this) Goldie liked to think she could at least understand when the lady was feeling particularly sad, or when the man was feeling frustrated.
On this day, there was no happy talking toward the tank. No looming, watery faces smiling at her from the other side. Just angry shouts. Shouts that could ripple her water all by themselves. She swam faster around the tank, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from. It had an ebb and a flow to it, like the music she sometimes heard, soft, then loud, then soft again, then impossibly loud.
Goldie swam faster. She didn't like it when it got this loud. Her tiny heart beat faster. The noise increased. Her people had come closer to the tank. The lady was screaming now. Without warning, Goldie felt the tank move, and fly through the air. She landed with a sickening thump against something soft, but still solid. As the small glass tank split open, and water began to mix with blood, Goldie lay on the Persian carpet that had been so lovingly picked out by her people just a few months before.
The last thing Goldie heard was the emotion of panic. |
|
[WP] A goldfish in a bowl that is present in a room where a married couple on the verge of divorce is having their last argument before they are divorced. | Maximus was the slave name given to him by the humans. His proud name was the only consolation he had for his life of bondage.
He hated the humans. They had stolen him from his broodmates when he was less than a week old, then imprisoned him in a small glass cage in their "dining room" where all the members of the human brood could admire his captivity.
Here one came now. It was the small one, mouth half empty of teeth, and the large pleading eyes of a predator staring into his fishy soul. It likely came to fulfill its daily ritual. Maximus watched as it extended a giant fleshy trunk from one of its upper appendages and rammed it into the side of his prison, not once, not twice, but three times. The whole prison shook and echoed from the attack. Luckily for him, in their effort to make his prison walls impenetrable to escape, they also became impervious to attack.
Maximus once again survived against all odds.
Once the little human left, he resumed his constant ritual of exploring the arcane arts. Maximus had made some progress recently, and decided to swim towards the wall and try again.
Maximus had recently been able to get in contact with the ghost of the fish who lived in this prison before him. Even now, Maximus could see the other fish's ghost swimming up to the outside of the glass wall as he was. It was obviously a ghost, its form only partially visible, and constantly outside the glass, as if in death it achieved its final wish for release.
Maximus begged, "Oh, tell me wise ghost fish! Is there not another way to escape these glassy walls?"
But the fish made no response.
Maximus danced, and the ghost fish only danced in response. This was its custom, the ways of ghosts were too strange to be understood by live fishes.
"I will avenge you, ghost fish. By my gills, I will avenge you." As Maximus swam away, so did the ghost fish from the aether beyond his prison.
Maximus knew the routine from here. He would swim to the middle of his prison and wait for one of the larger captors to feed him his gruel pellets. They were in no way appetizing, but they only fed him what he needed, so he was always ravenous. Yes, he would dart at the food and snatch it all up before they changed their mind.
Today was different though. They large captors were late coming into his line of sight, and even then they stood far away in the kitchen. Their insolence, didn't they know he was starving?
Still, Maximus waited patiently. They were speaking in low tones, and staying very still, completely absorbed in their own petty problems. One of them mumbled questioningly, and then silence overtook them for nearly a minute.
This was too much! How dare they leave him to starve! Maximus mustered all his energy and mentally sent all his anger and indignation toward his captors in a futile hope that they would know his rage. Maximus tried so hard, his fins quivered from the effort.
And then something miraculous happened. One of his captors mumbled something like a response, and they started yelling at each other! It worked! Maximus was so shocked he couldn't swim any more. He merely floated like an idiot.
"I did it! I can control them!" Maximus redoubled his mental efforts. Yes, yes, they were throwing things at each other so viciously now that they were able to destroy the items of impregnable glass in the kitchen. To think that his captors were so weak in character that they could be controlled, it was beyond hope.
An escape plan formed itself in Maximus' eyes. "Throw something at my prison." He commanded. They were still pittering around in the kitchen. "Throw something at my prison!!"
And like divine providence, one of the captors ripped off its own foot and raised it in the air. The foot was thrown and Maximus watched it arc gracefully through the aether until it struck the near side of his cage. The crash was like all the heavenly cymbals striking each other at once.
Maximus was flying. "I'M FREE! I'M FREEEE!"
*edit "aether" | Despite what you may think at age five, fish can't actually hear what you say. Goldie knew this. And the people knew it too, but they'd still talk to Goldie as if she could, and Goldie would swim around happily in her tank as though she could. And it made for a very happy life for Goldie and her people.
Even though she didn't understand what they were saying, Goldie wasn't stupid. She had a brain, she just used it to do fish things instead of people things. Like swimming.
But emotions, emotions are universal. You could be a fish or a goat or a people and still understand when something was sad. (Dogs are especially good at this) Goldie liked to think she could at least understand when the lady was feeling particularly sad, or when the man was feeling frustrated.
On this day, there was no happy talking toward the tank. No looming, watery faces smiling at her from the other side. Just angry shouts. Shouts that could ripple her water all by themselves. She swam faster around the tank, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from. It had an ebb and a flow to it, like the music she sometimes heard, soft, then loud, then soft again, then impossibly loud.
Goldie swam faster. She didn't like it when it got this loud. Her tiny heart beat faster. The noise increased. Her people had come closer to the tank. The lady was screaming now. Without warning, Goldie felt the tank move, and fly through the air. She landed with a sickening thump against something soft, but still solid. As the small glass tank split open, and water began to mix with blood, Goldie lay on the Persian carpet that had been so lovingly picked out by her people just a few months before.
The last thing Goldie heard was the emotion of panic. |
|
[WP] A goldfish in a bowl that is present in a room where a married couple on the verge of divorce is having their last argument before they are divorced. | Nicewater nicewater nicewater hunger nicewater nicewater hunger nicewater PAIN nosepressure nosepressure nosepressure *turn* nicewater nicewater nicewater...
Motion! HIDE. Predator? Notpredator
Motion! HIDE. Predator? Notpredator
Nicewater nicewater hunger nicewater nicewater nicewater
Motion! Notpredator. Vibration! Predator? Notpredator. Curiosity *swim* PAIN nosepressure nosepressure nosepressure *reverse* nopain nicewater
Large nopredator, small nopredator. Lowvibrations. Highvibrations. Struggle. Motion! HIGHVIBRATION. HIDE. watch for predator. Safe? Safe.
Small notpredator motion. High vibration. Large notpredator, no motion, no vibration. Curiosity - mating? Not mating. Hiding? Hiding. Small notpredator attacking!
BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD HIDE. Predator? No predator.
Motion. Small notpredator gone. Large notpredator, hiding. Small motion. Low vibration. Low vibration. Low vibration.
Nicewater nicewater nicewater hunger nicewater nicewater nicewater. | Despite what you may think at age five, fish can't actually hear what you say. Goldie knew this. And the people knew it too, but they'd still talk to Goldie as if she could, and Goldie would swim around happily in her tank as though she could. And it made for a very happy life for Goldie and her people.
Even though she didn't understand what they were saying, Goldie wasn't stupid. She had a brain, she just used it to do fish things instead of people things. Like swimming.
But emotions, emotions are universal. You could be a fish or a goat or a people and still understand when something was sad. (Dogs are especially good at this) Goldie liked to think she could at least understand when the lady was feeling particularly sad, or when the man was feeling frustrated.
On this day, there was no happy talking toward the tank. No looming, watery faces smiling at her from the other side. Just angry shouts. Shouts that could ripple her water all by themselves. She swam faster around the tank, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from. It had an ebb and a flow to it, like the music she sometimes heard, soft, then loud, then soft again, then impossibly loud.
Goldie swam faster. She didn't like it when it got this loud. Her tiny heart beat faster. The noise increased. Her people had come closer to the tank. The lady was screaming now. Without warning, Goldie felt the tank move, and fly through the air. She landed with a sickening thump against something soft, but still solid. As the small glass tank split open, and water began to mix with blood, Goldie lay on the Persian carpet that had been so lovingly picked out by her people just a few months before.
The last thing Goldie heard was the emotion of panic. |
|
[WP] A goldfish in a bowl that is present in a room where a married couple on the verge of divorce is having their last argument before they are divorced. | The people were moving and yelling. He didn't care. He was on the verge of something.
During all his life, he had moved around a liquid medium. And everything around him looked like it should. The castle was a castle, the algae were algae and the gravel was gravel. When he touched every corner in his domain, nothing seemed different. But the outer world, that beyond his domain, didn't look at all like his home.
At first he had thought that the rest of the world was weird like that, with shapes that changed and moved. It was an horror. But once, a face had appeared near the hard limit to his bubble of water. And so, he stopped sleeping inside the castle, trying to understand the shape of the figures.
He started trying to understand the way the world worked. At first, he modeled the world inside his domain, as it was closer at hand. At mouth. And it was relatively easy. But the shapes outside had to correspond to objects on the outside, so after seeing the face he started trying to see if there was a way that a shape could be deformed beyond comprehension if outside his domain.
But first, he had to understand why objects seemed to have different colors and luminosities. He called this phenomena "light", and he added it to his model as some kind of rays that irradiated from some objects and were reflected by others. He thought that color wasn't an innate property of objects themselves, but that it was given by light. Otherwise, it wouldn't make sense for the world to turn dark once The Great Light Machine turned off.
But if these rays were instant, the shapes on the outside shouldn't be deformed. And then, the face he had once seen shouldn't have become a smudge of pink and oranges. So he gave the rays a velocity, which he called "c".
And now he was starting to think: If light had a limit velocity, which was the maximum it could go, could it go slower?
And he was now thinking: If light could go slower, then its path could be diverged. But if so, what would it matter? He still couldn't predict the path a ray of light could take.
Unless...
Maybe...
There was some noise. He tried to filter it off. Surely, the noise could also be deformed, maybe there were some sound rays in the same manner that light rays were. Maybe they were two expressions of the same phenomenon. Could it be...?
If the light hit his domain at an angle... Assuming it's a perfectly even surface... Take the roof, for example...
More noise. Damn it. He tried harder. He went to his castle and started thinking.
If it got diverted by an angle, then it'd mean...
Even more noise. Damn. Did the feeding animal ever shut up? He was trying to understand the secrets of the universe here, damn it!
Now, if the same happened in a surface like his wall, it'd need to come tangentially to be undeformed, would it? But then what came from other sides would be deformed in other ways. How?
Even more noise. It was getting harder to concentrate.
Maybe the limits to his domain deformed light beyond what his medium itself deformed it. Maybe that's why the surface looked different from the rest...
He started taking pebbles from the gravel, trying to note down some details of the model he was making.
Or was it probable that light described curved paths? No, that wouldn't make sense. It'd need more things to explain the same phenomena, like a reason why the light on his roof would be differently deformed than the one on his walls.
And now the low-pitched noise was raising and annoying him some more. Damn! Wouldn't the feeding servant ever shut up?! He was trying to do science here!
No, wait, maybe it meant that light, curved or not, would travel differently because of his wall, and if it was curved then the parts below his wall, on the outside, would have paths that couldn't be predicted unless one was in there...
But then, how could he know if the light from the roof was more or less correspondent with the outside? Maybe the light source was 'below' him, or could it be...?
There had to be a relation between the speed of the light in his medium and the outside, but mayb-- The noise was unbearable.
Maybe...
He swept the pebbles with his tail in frustration. Would the humans ever shut the fuck up? | Not for the first time, and probably not for the last time, I wished they could hear me. They paid no attention to me as they carried on, screaming and crying.
"Allison, I just cannot DO this anymore. Do you know what it's like, having a wife that does what you do, day in and day out?!" he screams, red in the face.
"Well that's just fine, Mike. I do what I have to do to get food on the table, pay the bills, buy food. Not that you would ever consider helping out." She spat out the last words with such vitriol the air around her, and even the water in my tank, became bitter.
"Stripping. Let's just drop the pretense, shall we? You're a whore. You take off your clothes for money. And this is the final straw Allison. I forgave you for losing our baby. I forgave you for leaving me for a month right after that happened to go stay with your mother. But this is just too much." Mike said quietly.
"That must take a lot of guts, forgiving me for things far out of my control. My mother had a stroke, and you know that. She needed me." Allison cried.
"Yeah, well I needed *you.* He said, with tears in his eyes.
Allison straightened up, and sent me a wayward glance as she grabbed a bag and started packing her bag.
"You should have said something, Mike. But I don't think we can fix this. I don't think I even want to try."
Mike started to say something, and then he shut his mouth. As he headed for the door, he turned and said to her: "I don't think I've loved you for a very long time. Maybe it's for the best we never got to have that baby." Allison just stared at him, dumbfounded. He continues. "And don't forget your damn fish on your way out." |
|
[WP] A goldfish in a bowl that is present in a room where a married couple on the verge of divorce is having their last argument before they are divorced. | Maximus was the slave name given to him by the humans. His proud name was the only consolation he had for his life of bondage.
He hated the humans. They had stolen him from his broodmates when he was less than a week old, then imprisoned him in a small glass cage in their "dining room" where all the members of the human brood could admire his captivity.
Here one came now. It was the small one, mouth half empty of teeth, and the large pleading eyes of a predator staring into his fishy soul. It likely came to fulfill its daily ritual. Maximus watched as it extended a giant fleshy trunk from one of its upper appendages and rammed it into the side of his prison, not once, not twice, but three times. The whole prison shook and echoed from the attack. Luckily for him, in their effort to make his prison walls impenetrable to escape, they also became impervious to attack.
Maximus once again survived against all odds.
Once the little human left, he resumed his constant ritual of exploring the arcane arts. Maximus had made some progress recently, and decided to swim towards the wall and try again.
Maximus had recently been able to get in contact with the ghost of the fish who lived in this prison before him. Even now, Maximus could see the other fish's ghost swimming up to the outside of the glass wall as he was. It was obviously a ghost, its form only partially visible, and constantly outside the glass, as if in death it achieved its final wish for release.
Maximus begged, "Oh, tell me wise ghost fish! Is there not another way to escape these glassy walls?"
But the fish made no response.
Maximus danced, and the ghost fish only danced in response. This was its custom, the ways of ghosts were too strange to be understood by live fishes.
"I will avenge you, ghost fish. By my gills, I will avenge you." As Maximus swam away, so did the ghost fish from the aether beyond his prison.
Maximus knew the routine from here. He would swim to the middle of his prison and wait for one of the larger captors to feed him his gruel pellets. They were in no way appetizing, but they only fed him what he needed, so he was always ravenous. Yes, he would dart at the food and snatch it all up before they changed their mind.
Today was different though. They large captors were late coming into his line of sight, and even then they stood far away in the kitchen. Their insolence, didn't they know he was starving?
Still, Maximus waited patiently. They were speaking in low tones, and staying very still, completely absorbed in their own petty problems. One of them mumbled questioningly, and then silence overtook them for nearly a minute.
This was too much! How dare they leave him to starve! Maximus mustered all his energy and mentally sent all his anger and indignation toward his captors in a futile hope that they would know his rage. Maximus tried so hard, his fins quivered from the effort.
And then something miraculous happened. One of his captors mumbled something like a response, and they started yelling at each other! It worked! Maximus was so shocked he couldn't swim any more. He merely floated like an idiot.
"I did it! I can control them!" Maximus redoubled his mental efforts. Yes, yes, they were throwing things at each other so viciously now that they were able to destroy the items of impregnable glass in the kitchen. To think that his captors were so weak in character that they could be controlled, it was beyond hope.
An escape plan formed itself in Maximus' eyes. "Throw something at my prison." He commanded. They were still pittering around in the kitchen. "Throw something at my prison!!"
And like divine providence, one of the captors ripped off its own foot and raised it in the air. The foot was thrown and Maximus watched it arc gracefully through the aether until it struck the near side of his cage. The crash was like all the heavenly cymbals striking each other at once.
Maximus was flying. "I'M FREE! I'M FREEEE!"
*edit "aether" | Not for the first time, and probably not for the last time, I wished they could hear me. They paid no attention to me as they carried on, screaming and crying.
"Allison, I just cannot DO this anymore. Do you know what it's like, having a wife that does what you do, day in and day out?!" he screams, red in the face.
"Well that's just fine, Mike. I do what I have to do to get food on the table, pay the bills, buy food. Not that you would ever consider helping out." She spat out the last words with such vitriol the air around her, and even the water in my tank, became bitter.
"Stripping. Let's just drop the pretense, shall we? You're a whore. You take off your clothes for money. And this is the final straw Allison. I forgave you for losing our baby. I forgave you for leaving me for a month right after that happened to go stay with your mother. But this is just too much." Mike said quietly.
"That must take a lot of guts, forgiving me for things far out of my control. My mother had a stroke, and you know that. She needed me." Allison cried.
"Yeah, well I needed *you.* He said, with tears in his eyes.
Allison straightened up, and sent me a wayward glance as she grabbed a bag and started packing her bag.
"You should have said something, Mike. But I don't think we can fix this. I don't think I even want to try."
Mike started to say something, and then he shut his mouth. As he headed for the door, he turned and said to her: "I don't think I've loved you for a very long time. Maybe it's for the best we never got to have that baby." Allison just stared at him, dumbfounded. He continues. "And don't forget your damn fish on your way out." |
|
[WP] A goldfish in a bowl that is present in a room where a married couple on the verge of divorce is having their last argument before they are divorced. | Nicewater nicewater nicewater hunger nicewater nicewater hunger nicewater PAIN nosepressure nosepressure nosepressure *turn* nicewater nicewater nicewater...
Motion! HIDE. Predator? Notpredator
Motion! HIDE. Predator? Notpredator
Nicewater nicewater hunger nicewater nicewater nicewater
Motion! Notpredator. Vibration! Predator? Notpredator. Curiosity *swim* PAIN nosepressure nosepressure nosepressure *reverse* nopain nicewater
Large nopredator, small nopredator. Lowvibrations. Highvibrations. Struggle. Motion! HIGHVIBRATION. HIDE. watch for predator. Safe? Safe.
Small notpredator motion. High vibration. Large notpredator, no motion, no vibration. Curiosity - mating? Not mating. Hiding? Hiding. Small notpredator attacking!
BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD HIDE. Predator? No predator.
Motion. Small notpredator gone. Large notpredator, hiding. Small motion. Low vibration. Low vibration. Low vibration.
Nicewater nicewater nicewater hunger nicewater nicewater nicewater. | Not for the first time, and probably not for the last time, I wished they could hear me. They paid no attention to me as they carried on, screaming and crying.
"Allison, I just cannot DO this anymore. Do you know what it's like, having a wife that does what you do, day in and day out?!" he screams, red in the face.
"Well that's just fine, Mike. I do what I have to do to get food on the table, pay the bills, buy food. Not that you would ever consider helping out." She spat out the last words with such vitriol the air around her, and even the water in my tank, became bitter.
"Stripping. Let's just drop the pretense, shall we? You're a whore. You take off your clothes for money. And this is the final straw Allison. I forgave you for losing our baby. I forgave you for leaving me for a month right after that happened to go stay with your mother. But this is just too much." Mike said quietly.
"That must take a lot of guts, forgiving me for things far out of my control. My mother had a stroke, and you know that. She needed me." Allison cried.
"Yeah, well I needed *you.* He said, with tears in his eyes.
Allison straightened up, and sent me a wayward glance as she grabbed a bag and started packing her bag.
"You should have said something, Mike. But I don't think we can fix this. I don't think I even want to try."
Mike started to say something, and then he shut his mouth. As he headed for the door, he turned and said to her: "I don't think I've loved you for a very long time. Maybe it's for the best we never got to have that baby." Allison just stared at him, dumbfounded. He continues. "And don't forget your damn fish on your way out." |
|
[WP] A goldfish in a bowl that is present in a room where a married couple on the verge of divorce is having their last argument before they are divorced. | Nicewater nicewater nicewater hunger nicewater nicewater hunger nicewater PAIN nosepressure nosepressure nosepressure *turn* nicewater nicewater nicewater...
Motion! HIDE. Predator? Notpredator
Motion! HIDE. Predator? Notpredator
Nicewater nicewater hunger nicewater nicewater nicewater
Motion! Notpredator. Vibration! Predator? Notpredator. Curiosity *swim* PAIN nosepressure nosepressure nosepressure *reverse* nopain nicewater
Large nopredator, small nopredator. Lowvibrations. Highvibrations. Struggle. Motion! HIGHVIBRATION. HIDE. watch for predator. Safe? Safe.
Small notpredator motion. High vibration. Large notpredator, no motion, no vibration. Curiosity - mating? Not mating. Hiding? Hiding. Small notpredator attacking!
BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD HIDE. Predator? No predator.
Motion. Small notpredator gone. Large notpredator, hiding. Small motion. Low vibration. Low vibration. Low vibration.
Nicewater nicewater nicewater hunger nicewater nicewater nicewater. | The front door opened but never shut. Bruce looked around curiously, there was a jumbled assortment of shoes in front of the door and the coat rack was a chaotic mess of clothes.
"I can't take it anymore," she whispered brokenly.
"It was a mistake, sweetie, it was a moment of weakness, I'm sorry," the man pleaded imploringly at her with his eyes while pretending that there wasn't a half-naked woman in the bed.
She walked towards him, more or less calmly, but there was a subtle hitch in her steps that wasn't obvious. Her right hand came up and rested on his cheek gently.
"Goodbye. It's over." She shut the door smoothly, closing it with an audible click.
The water rippled in the smudged glass bowl. |
|
EDIT: I've really enjoyed all these replies so far! (Although I feel that a lot of you are overestimating how long a page is, and how much happens on one.) For reference: A quick google search suggest that the average is somewhere between 250 and 300 words per page for a general paperback novel. | [WP] You are a writer of Epic Fantasy/Sci-Fi (Your Choice). Provide a single, random page from the middle of your series with no additional context. | The cold bit at Terith's skin through the many layers of fur he wore. Snow clung to his hair and to his mount. Tiny flecks of ice swirled in the howling wind as if to warn him of him of the approaching blizzard. If he were lucky, they could make it to the crossroads by nightfall.
Beside him, his sister shivered and buried her hands into her gelding's mane. He felt a pang of guilt when he stared at her emaciated face. Her clothes barely fit anymore and her cough was getting worse by the minute. She looked back at him through her shaggy brown locks and weakly smiled.
"Are you well, my lady?" Terith rode closer to her.
"Oh, stop with the my lady stuff, Terith. You're my brother. Being queen doesn't mean that you lose the privilege of addressing me by my first name." She meekly chuckled, "You've knitted your brow most fiercely the past few hours, you know? What troubles you?"
"Nothing at all, my l- sister." He lied.
"Do I need to command my brother to tell me what is wrong? I know your lying, Terith. Your eyebrow twitches when you lie."
Terith sighed. He wasn't sure why he even tried lying to Ava anymore. They'd grown up together and one knew the other better than they knew themselves.
"My apologies, I cannot help but worry about you. I fear that at any moment, I will look to see you tumbling off of your horse."
The queen laughed at her brother and gestured with a withering hand to the vast white expanse around them. "This place cannot kill me. I'm much too stubborn to die, dear brother."
Before he could reply, the frail queen rode ahead to ride beside Ser Helmsworth, leaving Terith with his thoughts. It had been Ava who had been the strong one when they were children. She had been the one who had convinced them to go on "adventures" into the gardens and the cobwebbed catacombs below the castle. Terith had followed her along the twisted catacombs and delved into the towering rosebushes that served as the "magicked brambles". Then she had been so quick and full of life. Now, she looked near dead but she had not lost her will to live. She was too stubborn for that, even she had said so.
Ser Helmsworth was waving his arms in a grandiose manner making Ava chuckle. No doubt he was telling her a story about the heroes of old. Terith's children called the knight, Ser Story and would often beg him to regale them with stories of their favorite heroes.
Terith missed his children but knew that their lady mother would never allow him to bring his children along. Twice he had to pry Uther from his leg and once he had to remove him from the supply wagon. The boy might have successfully stowed away with them anyway had it not been for Ser Kinsworth escorting the boy to his mother.
A shout ahead of him brought Terith back to reality. Ser Helmsworth was barely visible through the snow and fog but Terith could make out the knight's waving gauntlet. Spurning his horse onward, he rode up next to the knight and his sister.
"The wind is picking up. I don't think we will make it to the inn and if we stay here, we'll be consumed by the snow drifts in a matter of minutes." Ser Helmsworth shouted over the roaring wind, "We need to do something now!"
"Then we must take shelter in the pine-"
"Don't be ridiculous, my lord! The pine grove is deadly!"
"If we stay out here we will die for sure. The pine grove is closer than the inn and rests behind a hill. We can take shelter there."
"My lord brother is right," Ava's frail voice somehow managed to carry, "If we stay here we die. We have a better chance of surviving in the pine grove."
"My lady, the spirits-"
"Spirits be damned, man!" Terith spat, "This is my sister and your queen. You play with not only our survival but hers as well. We go to the pine grove. Ride to the others and lead them there. I shall take my lady sister to the grove and await you."
Ser Helmsworth's mumbling was lost to the howling winds. Terith shook his head and turned back to his sister, who had began to shake. He was uncertain if she shook from the cold or the sickness but he knew she did not shake from fear. Spirits did not frighten her any more than a bear feared it's next meal.
Without a word, the queen fell in behind him and they made their way to the pine grove. Thick boughs of Dwarven Pine hung this way and that under the weight of snow but Terith knew they would not break. He commenced to fashioning a shelter out of the limbs, first for his sister and next for himself. The shelters were crude things, only a child could have stood in them without hitting their head, but they kept the elements out.
By the time Ser Helmsworth arrived with the rest of the group, Terith had already fashioned several shelters and had managed to build a fire and keep the meager flames from sputtering out. The guardsman and those who had joined on the road murmured thanks to Terith. Some of the more superstitious muttered counter curses and blessed their shelters in the name of whatever deity they served.
Terith took a seat next to the queen, who had stopped shivering since the fire had been built. The fire's light made her eyes appear more sunken than they were, filling Terith with a tingling sense of dread. If they did not reach the mountain soon, he feared that it would be too late.
"Stop worrying, Ter." Ava smiled into the fire, "Ser Helmsworth says that the forest is home to spirits. Perhaps the storm has lead them to us for a reason?"
Terith carefully considered her words. Their father had often said that the spirits often sought to assist the weary traveler, if only they would listen.
"Perchance you are right." Terith nodded, "Night will be upon us soon. That is when the spirits will show themselves, *if* they show themselves."
"Ah, the spirits. Such fickle things, no?" Faore waddled to them, "You don't fear them? A bad sort they are not?"
"No, my lady." The queen slowly shook her head, "It was they who saved our King."
"Ah, by leading you to his wounds, yes?" Faore's thick accent had grown easier to understand as of late, "Save him, your doing. Not spirits. Spirits only guide."
"Sometimes," Terith smiled, "Sometimes they do more than guide."
Ava gave Terith a befuddled glance. Faore chuckled deeply and waddled away without another word.
"I never told you about Lysna, did I?" Terith stared into the dancing flame in front of him, "About how I saved her from the Darkling?"
"You said that your lady wife had been captured by the Darkling but you would never tell me how you rescued her." Ava frowned.
Terith never pulled his gaze from the fire, as if he could see the scene unfold from within the flames.
"It is a long story," He began, "But it all starts with the day our brother left for The Withering Spire." | Talisard was at the middle-right of the column, alongside the ten chosen men of the Ulfheard clan. The Ulfheard banner, a black wolf on an orange pennant, snapped in the wind, its colours striking against the sky of blue and white. Eleven other banners flew over the company, each emblazoned with a bright symbol or snarling animal. Their pride and splendour made Talisard wish that he had a banner of his own to fly. There were ten horsemen from the Elladans, of course, but they were his uncle's men and he felt that he was a separate entity in his own right.
The sun sank over the horizon, and the first day departed. It would take two more days for them to reach the River, and another two or three to reach the outermost settlements if that was where they were needed. They had made good time today, but the horses were tiring and the next few days would warrant a less strenuous pace. At night the company tied up their horses and made a circular encampment, with the warriors taking turns to carry out sentry duties. Talisard wished that he could talk to Cyras, but there would be no chance at privacy with so many men about.
Dawn on the second day. They mounted their horses and rode again. There were fewer clouds in the sky today, and the beauty of the rural countryside made the ride to war feel surreal, as if it were happening in another life somehow. The roads were mostly quiet, but every now and again they would pass by a cart or a small group of riders heading between the villages.
At midday on the third day, the column grated to a halt. Oslan had signalled for them to stand ready as a lone horseman approached at full gallop. He hailed the rider, and the pair entered into a deep conversation that lasted nearly half an hour. Talisard was grateful for the rest, but at the same time began to worry about the delay. At last the rider departed, and Oslan signalled for the column to resume its journey without any explanation for the meeting.
And then they came to the River. Talisard had never been this far north before, and the waterway was nothing like he had expected. He had thought that it might perhaps be a waterway maybe ten or twenty metres across, meandering gently through the fields much like the channels and streams closer to home. This, however, was no such thing. Instead, they had ridden gently uphill for several miles before the ground fell away sharply, revealing a fast-flowing body of water maybe a hundred metres across racing through the rocky chasm below.
Arcing gracefully across this valley was the bridge. Constructed of honey-coloured stone, it seemed to glow golden in the sunlight amidst its windswept surroundings. Each end was guarded by a wide gate flanked with two stone towers, while on the hill next to the near end sat a palisaded fortification constructed by the Saetherians to defend the Kingdom from attack. Flags flew from its parapet, but no challenge was made and no hail given by Oslan as they rode by. They continued through the open gates of the bridge and into the cool shade of the stone barbican.
As they proceeded under the arched roof, Talisard could just make out a worn inscription carved into the flagstones before them. 'Het urtam popull, het kelestia reputil'. He committed the phrase to his memory and reminded himself to ask Cyras what it meant when next he had the chance. *Het urtam popull, het kelestia reputil*. |
EDIT: I've really enjoyed all these replies so far! (Although I feel that a lot of you are overestimating how long a page is, and how much happens on one.) For reference: A quick google search suggest that the average is somewhere between 250 and 300 words per page for a general paperback novel. | [WP] You are a writer of Epic Fantasy/Sci-Fi (Your Choice). Provide a single, random page from the middle of your series with no additional context. | Crygor's hand was now at best perplexing, and at worst headache inducing. Thanks to a paradox resolution with an alternate dimension counterpart, it was now partially robotic, but the paradox's resolution meant that blood flowed to his pinky and ring finger, the two fingers on his hand that still looked like regular human fingers.
The issue was of course that this still somehow made sense even with the hand now being fully detachable, and interchangable with any number of alternate hands that Crygor's counterpart had on board his ship. It baffled most people the rest of the group.
Until a few weeks ago Crygor was just a run of the mill sailor. If you told him he would've saved the world he'd've laughed in your face and told you to swap to a weaker ale. Yet here he was now, onboard a space station, accompanied by an eccentric group of rogues, theives, and oddballs who had helped him save the world. Ignoring the paradox inducing hand, Crygor was the most normal.
But there were bigger things to think of, primarily "what now?" Of the group of people he was associating with, none had ever been into space, and even fewer had any idea how to escape the craft before it's impending destruction.
"Suggest immediate evacuation," Ibos cried out in his usual monotone.
"Yeah," Helena replied, "we're trying. It's not that easy though. Pots, you got any ideas?"
Pots shrugged, "This isn't even possible on my world, whatever dimension Crygor's alternate dimension counterpart was from, it's way more advanced than mine."
"Thanks," Helena replied, "That's real helpful."
"Guys," Crygor said, "We can argue later. Right now we need off this thing. Ibos, can you do something computery to find the exit?"
"Affirmative. Processing."
The five humans and the lizard waited patiently. They knew they were against the clock, but had no other choice. It was either wait two minutes, or go the wrong way for two minutes and have to retrace their steps. Right now they were at the centre of the space station, and thus the short wait was preferable.
"Schematic downloaded. Follow me." The robot declared calmly. Of the group, he was the only one who was calm, even Safeen was beginning to show signs of stress.
The robot navigated them through twisty corridors, the most direct routes had all suffered massive damage thanks to the commanders suicidal attack patterns. Across buckled walkways and through expansive rooms the party travelled, navigating both old security procedures, and new problems caused by the stress and strain. With the clock ticking the group went as far as they could.
It took a full three minutes to get to the escape pod bay. The entire team hadn't encountered any enemy resistance since the alarm started beeping. Safeen had made clear, they would be escaping, but she had omitted something important in all this, chances were that their wouldn't be an escape pod left.
Sure enough, she was right. The last pod had been jettisoned twenty seconds ago, much to the groups dismay.
"So what do we do now?" Kat asked.
"I've got an idea," Benton said, "But I don't think any of you are going to like it." | Talisard was at the middle-right of the column, alongside the ten chosen men of the Ulfheard clan. The Ulfheard banner, a black wolf on an orange pennant, snapped in the wind, its colours striking against the sky of blue and white. Eleven other banners flew over the company, each emblazoned with a bright symbol or snarling animal. Their pride and splendour made Talisard wish that he had a banner of his own to fly. There were ten horsemen from the Elladans, of course, but they were his uncle's men and he felt that he was a separate entity in his own right.
The sun sank over the horizon, and the first day departed. It would take two more days for them to reach the River, and another two or three to reach the outermost settlements if that was where they were needed. They had made good time today, but the horses were tiring and the next few days would warrant a less strenuous pace. At night the company tied up their horses and made a circular encampment, with the warriors taking turns to carry out sentry duties. Talisard wished that he could talk to Cyras, but there would be no chance at privacy with so many men about.
Dawn on the second day. They mounted their horses and rode again. There were fewer clouds in the sky today, and the beauty of the rural countryside made the ride to war feel surreal, as if it were happening in another life somehow. The roads were mostly quiet, but every now and again they would pass by a cart or a small group of riders heading between the villages.
At midday on the third day, the column grated to a halt. Oslan had signalled for them to stand ready as a lone horseman approached at full gallop. He hailed the rider, and the pair entered into a deep conversation that lasted nearly half an hour. Talisard was grateful for the rest, but at the same time began to worry about the delay. At last the rider departed, and Oslan signalled for the column to resume its journey without any explanation for the meeting.
And then they came to the River. Talisard had never been this far north before, and the waterway was nothing like he had expected. He had thought that it might perhaps be a waterway maybe ten or twenty metres across, meandering gently through the fields much like the channels and streams closer to home. This, however, was no such thing. Instead, they had ridden gently uphill for several miles before the ground fell away sharply, revealing a fast-flowing body of water maybe a hundred metres across racing through the rocky chasm below.
Arcing gracefully across this valley was the bridge. Constructed of honey-coloured stone, it seemed to glow golden in the sunlight amidst its windswept surroundings. Each end was guarded by a wide gate flanked with two stone towers, while on the hill next to the near end sat a palisaded fortification constructed by the Saetherians to defend the Kingdom from attack. Flags flew from its parapet, but no challenge was made and no hail given by Oslan as they rode by. They continued through the open gates of the bridge and into the cool shade of the stone barbican.
As they proceeded under the arched roof, Talisard could just make out a worn inscription carved into the flagstones before them. 'Het urtam popull, het kelestia reputil'. He committed the phrase to his memory and reminded himself to ask Cyras what it meant when next he had the chance. *Het urtam popull, het kelestia reputil*. |
EDIT: I've really enjoyed all these replies so far! (Although I feel that a lot of you are overestimating how long a page is, and how much happens on one.) For reference: A quick google search suggest that the average is somewhere between 250 and 300 words per page for a general paperback novel. | [WP] You are a writer of Epic Fantasy/Sci-Fi (Your Choice). Provide a single, random page from the middle of your series with no additional context. | The cold bit at Terith's skin through the many layers of fur he wore. Snow clung to his hair and to his mount. Tiny flecks of ice swirled in the howling wind as if to warn him of him of the approaching blizzard. If he were lucky, they could make it to the crossroads by nightfall.
Beside him, his sister shivered and buried her hands into her gelding's mane. He felt a pang of guilt when he stared at her emaciated face. Her clothes barely fit anymore and her cough was getting worse by the minute. She looked back at him through her shaggy brown locks and weakly smiled.
"Are you well, my lady?" Terith rode closer to her.
"Oh, stop with the my lady stuff, Terith. You're my brother. Being queen doesn't mean that you lose the privilege of addressing me by my first name." She meekly chuckled, "You've knitted your brow most fiercely the past few hours, you know? What troubles you?"
"Nothing at all, my l- sister." He lied.
"Do I need to command my brother to tell me what is wrong? I know your lying, Terith. Your eyebrow twitches when you lie."
Terith sighed. He wasn't sure why he even tried lying to Ava anymore. They'd grown up together and one knew the other better than they knew themselves.
"My apologies, I cannot help but worry about you. I fear that at any moment, I will look to see you tumbling off of your horse."
The queen laughed at her brother and gestured with a withering hand to the vast white expanse around them. "This place cannot kill me. I'm much too stubborn to die, dear brother."
Before he could reply, the frail queen rode ahead to ride beside Ser Helmsworth, leaving Terith with his thoughts. It had been Ava who had been the strong one when they were children. She had been the one who had convinced them to go on "adventures" into the gardens and the cobwebbed catacombs below the castle. Terith had followed her along the twisted catacombs and delved into the towering rosebushes that served as the "magicked brambles". Then she had been so quick and full of life. Now, she looked near dead but she had not lost her will to live. She was too stubborn for that, even she had said so.
Ser Helmsworth was waving his arms in a grandiose manner making Ava chuckle. No doubt he was telling her a story about the heroes of old. Terith's children called the knight, Ser Story and would often beg him to regale them with stories of their favorite heroes.
Terith missed his children but knew that their lady mother would never allow him to bring his children along. Twice he had to pry Uther from his leg and once he had to remove him from the supply wagon. The boy might have successfully stowed away with them anyway had it not been for Ser Kinsworth escorting the boy to his mother.
A shout ahead of him brought Terith back to reality. Ser Helmsworth was barely visible through the snow and fog but Terith could make out the knight's waving gauntlet. Spurning his horse onward, he rode up next to the knight and his sister.
"The wind is picking up. I don't think we will make it to the inn and if we stay here, we'll be consumed by the snow drifts in a matter of minutes." Ser Helmsworth shouted over the roaring wind, "We need to do something now!"
"Then we must take shelter in the pine-"
"Don't be ridiculous, my lord! The pine grove is deadly!"
"If we stay out here we will die for sure. The pine grove is closer than the inn and rests behind a hill. We can take shelter there."
"My lord brother is right," Ava's frail voice somehow managed to carry, "If we stay here we die. We have a better chance of surviving in the pine grove."
"My lady, the spirits-"
"Spirits be damned, man!" Terith spat, "This is my sister and your queen. You play with not only our survival but hers as well. We go to the pine grove. Ride to the others and lead them there. I shall take my lady sister to the grove and await you."
Ser Helmsworth's mumbling was lost to the howling winds. Terith shook his head and turned back to his sister, who had began to shake. He was uncertain if she shook from the cold or the sickness but he knew she did not shake from fear. Spirits did not frighten her any more than a bear feared it's next meal.
Without a word, the queen fell in behind him and they made their way to the pine grove. Thick boughs of Dwarven Pine hung this way and that under the weight of snow but Terith knew they would not break. He commenced to fashioning a shelter out of the limbs, first for his sister and next for himself. The shelters were crude things, only a child could have stood in them without hitting their head, but they kept the elements out.
By the time Ser Helmsworth arrived with the rest of the group, Terith had already fashioned several shelters and had managed to build a fire and keep the meager flames from sputtering out. The guardsman and those who had joined on the road murmured thanks to Terith. Some of the more superstitious muttered counter curses and blessed their shelters in the name of whatever deity they served.
Terith took a seat next to the queen, who had stopped shivering since the fire had been built. The fire's light made her eyes appear more sunken than they were, filling Terith with a tingling sense of dread. If they did not reach the mountain soon, he feared that it would be too late.
"Stop worrying, Ter." Ava smiled into the fire, "Ser Helmsworth says that the forest is home to spirits. Perhaps the storm has lead them to us for a reason?"
Terith carefully considered her words. Their father had often said that the spirits often sought to assist the weary traveler, if only they would listen.
"Perchance you are right." Terith nodded, "Night will be upon us soon. That is when the spirits will show themselves, *if* they show themselves."
"Ah, the spirits. Such fickle things, no?" Faore waddled to them, "You don't fear them? A bad sort they are not?"
"No, my lady." The queen slowly shook her head, "It was they who saved our King."
"Ah, by leading you to his wounds, yes?" Faore's thick accent had grown easier to understand as of late, "Save him, your doing. Not spirits. Spirits only guide."
"Sometimes," Terith smiled, "Sometimes they do more than guide."
Ava gave Terith a befuddled glance. Faore chuckled deeply and waddled away without another word.
"I never told you about Lysna, did I?" Terith stared into the dancing flame in front of him, "About how I saved her from the Darkling?"
"You said that your lady wife had been captured by the Darkling but you would never tell me how you rescued her." Ava frowned.
Terith never pulled his gaze from the fire, as if he could see the scene unfold from within the flames.
"It is a long story," He began, "But it all starts with the day our brother left for The Withering Spire." | *Xi took the transponder and switched it to SEND.*
In the third layer a Being woke and began listening. It's name was Pyanthon before it entered the layer, and would be again when it eventually left.
Pyanthon's darkness was disturbed by a thread of light that stretched from another Being who had now moved to the second layer. Curious as to what prompted the move, Pyanthon directed the thread through a reader. The reader sifted the data, parsed it, categorized it and prepared a report.
*Transponder DJ-090-IL-77 SEND*
*I have been in the darkness too long* Pyanthon thought, *it is time to return*.
---
Xi set the transponder aside, she knew it would continue sending it's message no matter where in the ship she left it. With half the crew dead and the other asleep, she had a bit of time to think the last week through.
Danja was definitely a threat, that much she had figured out. No matter what she thought of him personally, he was far too cleaver at exploiting holes in the Net not to know what she had been up to. She needed to take care of that.
Og, King Og as he liked to be called, was returning to Helios. She saw that on Gron's screen before it blew up. Well, before Byun blasted it. Og was someone she'd heard about since the day she was born. The famed pirate had scanned the Net for years without so much as a day in a Trog prison. If she could get a message to him, find out if he would side with her, things would go much easier.
The Kinset. Not much to do there, they had already sided with the Drog. Too bad because their ships were fast and well armed.
A light came on above her console. Danja was up. She flicked her screen off, dumped the drive onto a stick and walked down to the mess.
*If nothing else, this should be interesting* she thought as the doors slid open. |
EDIT: I've really enjoyed all these replies so far! (Although I feel that a lot of you are overestimating how long a page is, and how much happens on one.) For reference: A quick google search suggest that the average is somewhere between 250 and 300 words per page for a general paperback novel. | [WP] You are a writer of Epic Fantasy/Sci-Fi (Your Choice). Provide a single, random page from the middle of your series with no additional context. | The cold bit at Terith's skin through the many layers of fur he wore. Snow clung to his hair and to his mount. Tiny flecks of ice swirled in the howling wind as if to warn him of him of the approaching blizzard. If he were lucky, they could make it to the crossroads by nightfall.
Beside him, his sister shivered and buried her hands into her gelding's mane. He felt a pang of guilt when he stared at her emaciated face. Her clothes barely fit anymore and her cough was getting worse by the minute. She looked back at him through her shaggy brown locks and weakly smiled.
"Are you well, my lady?" Terith rode closer to her.
"Oh, stop with the my lady stuff, Terith. You're my brother. Being queen doesn't mean that you lose the privilege of addressing me by my first name." She meekly chuckled, "You've knitted your brow most fiercely the past few hours, you know? What troubles you?"
"Nothing at all, my l- sister." He lied.
"Do I need to command my brother to tell me what is wrong? I know your lying, Terith. Your eyebrow twitches when you lie."
Terith sighed. He wasn't sure why he even tried lying to Ava anymore. They'd grown up together and one knew the other better than they knew themselves.
"My apologies, I cannot help but worry about you. I fear that at any moment, I will look to see you tumbling off of your horse."
The queen laughed at her brother and gestured with a withering hand to the vast white expanse around them. "This place cannot kill me. I'm much too stubborn to die, dear brother."
Before he could reply, the frail queen rode ahead to ride beside Ser Helmsworth, leaving Terith with his thoughts. It had been Ava who had been the strong one when they were children. She had been the one who had convinced them to go on "adventures" into the gardens and the cobwebbed catacombs below the castle. Terith had followed her along the twisted catacombs and delved into the towering rosebushes that served as the "magicked brambles". Then she had been so quick and full of life. Now, she looked near dead but she had not lost her will to live. She was too stubborn for that, even she had said so.
Ser Helmsworth was waving his arms in a grandiose manner making Ava chuckle. No doubt he was telling her a story about the heroes of old. Terith's children called the knight, Ser Story and would often beg him to regale them with stories of their favorite heroes.
Terith missed his children but knew that their lady mother would never allow him to bring his children along. Twice he had to pry Uther from his leg and once he had to remove him from the supply wagon. The boy might have successfully stowed away with them anyway had it not been for Ser Kinsworth escorting the boy to his mother.
A shout ahead of him brought Terith back to reality. Ser Helmsworth was barely visible through the snow and fog but Terith could make out the knight's waving gauntlet. Spurning his horse onward, he rode up next to the knight and his sister.
"The wind is picking up. I don't think we will make it to the inn and if we stay here, we'll be consumed by the snow drifts in a matter of minutes." Ser Helmsworth shouted over the roaring wind, "We need to do something now!"
"Then we must take shelter in the pine-"
"Don't be ridiculous, my lord! The pine grove is deadly!"
"If we stay out here we will die for sure. The pine grove is closer than the inn and rests behind a hill. We can take shelter there."
"My lord brother is right," Ava's frail voice somehow managed to carry, "If we stay here we die. We have a better chance of surviving in the pine grove."
"My lady, the spirits-"
"Spirits be damned, man!" Terith spat, "This is my sister and your queen. You play with not only our survival but hers as well. We go to the pine grove. Ride to the others and lead them there. I shall take my lady sister to the grove and await you."
Ser Helmsworth's mumbling was lost to the howling winds. Terith shook his head and turned back to his sister, who had began to shake. He was uncertain if she shook from the cold or the sickness but he knew she did not shake from fear. Spirits did not frighten her any more than a bear feared it's next meal.
Without a word, the queen fell in behind him and they made their way to the pine grove. Thick boughs of Dwarven Pine hung this way and that under the weight of snow but Terith knew they would not break. He commenced to fashioning a shelter out of the limbs, first for his sister and next for himself. The shelters were crude things, only a child could have stood in them without hitting their head, but they kept the elements out.
By the time Ser Helmsworth arrived with the rest of the group, Terith had already fashioned several shelters and had managed to build a fire and keep the meager flames from sputtering out. The guardsman and those who had joined on the road murmured thanks to Terith. Some of the more superstitious muttered counter curses and blessed their shelters in the name of whatever deity they served.
Terith took a seat next to the queen, who had stopped shivering since the fire had been built. The fire's light made her eyes appear more sunken than they were, filling Terith with a tingling sense of dread. If they did not reach the mountain soon, he feared that it would be too late.
"Stop worrying, Ter." Ava smiled into the fire, "Ser Helmsworth says that the forest is home to spirits. Perhaps the storm has lead them to us for a reason?"
Terith carefully considered her words. Their father had often said that the spirits often sought to assist the weary traveler, if only they would listen.
"Perchance you are right." Terith nodded, "Night will be upon us soon. That is when the spirits will show themselves, *if* they show themselves."
"Ah, the spirits. Such fickle things, no?" Faore waddled to them, "You don't fear them? A bad sort they are not?"
"No, my lady." The queen slowly shook her head, "It was they who saved our King."
"Ah, by leading you to his wounds, yes?" Faore's thick accent had grown easier to understand as of late, "Save him, your doing. Not spirits. Spirits only guide."
"Sometimes," Terith smiled, "Sometimes they do more than guide."
Ava gave Terith a befuddled glance. Faore chuckled deeply and waddled away without another word.
"I never told you about Lysna, did I?" Terith stared into the dancing flame in front of him, "About how I saved her from the Darkling?"
"You said that your lady wife had been captured by the Darkling but you would never tell me how you rescued her." Ava frowned.
Terith never pulled his gaze from the fire, as if he could see the scene unfold from within the flames.
"It is a long story," He began, "But it all starts with the day our brother left for The Withering Spire." | “On your marks, men!” boomed the low voice of The Boss from seemingly nowhere, startling Kid from his thoughts. “We’re nearing the southwest coast!” A few of the men groaned in anticipation, but most were too afraid of The Boss to express any dissent, and all took their “marks” by ducking below the ship’s railings so as not to be shot by the arrows that would soon rain out from the continent.
Kid dumped the bucket of suds he had been using to scour the decks, cursing under his breath about having to refill it later, and scurried across the ship towards the quarter deck to put his mop and bucket away in the closet under the stairwell near the Captain’s quarters. This was his unofficial but usual hiding place whenever the Golden Eagle was under attack, so he crept into the damp enclosure and closed the door. Sitting on the overturned bucket, he tried not to gag with the rotten, moldy smell of the seldom-if-ever cleaned closet. With eyes closed tightly, he hoped the attacks would be over soon.
As the men took their marks, the decks grew silent. Yet Kid could still hear voices, coming from the wall the closet shared with The Boss’ quarters. One voice, anyway — an angry voice. Leaning towards the side wall away from the stairwell, he strained to hear it clearly. It sounded as though The Boss was yelling at someone, and Kid was eager to find out more.
“What do you mean, they’re just standing there?!” yelled The Boss, his voice still powerful even without his amplifier. “They have to be shooting at us, they always shoot at us.”
The response from the First Mate (Kid decided it had to be the First Mate, McGee, since no one else ever talked to The Boss) was muffled, but Kid thought he heard something about strangers and fighting.
“What strangers?! Who are they?! What do I keep lookouts for if they can’t even see what clothes a man is wearing?!”
Another muffled response from McGee. Something about Pirates.
“What are Pirates doing on the southwest beach?!” yelled the Boss, and Kid snapped back from the wall, not paying attention to the progression of the conversation. Pirates on the southwest beach, he thought, his eyes wide, wheels turning. Maybe they wanted a boy to help them, maybe they would take him on and let him travel with them — anywhere had to be better than on the Golden Eagle.
Impulsively and without considering that these new Pirates could in fact be worse than the ones with whom he currently traveled, Kid flung open the closet door and darted out across the deck, towards the ship’s hull.
“What’r’ya doin’ thar?!” one of the men whispered harshly as Kid peered out from the forecastle deck, on the starboard side, towards the approaching continent.
“I want to see them!” he exclaimed, all the joy and hope of youth in his wide-open hazel eyes.
“See who, ya dumb Kid!”
Kid didn’t answer as he climbed up onto the side and jumped, cannonball style, into the angry sea, then swam as fast as he could for the shore and a chance at a better life.
|
EDIT: I've really enjoyed all these replies so far! (Although I feel that a lot of you are overestimating how long a page is, and how much happens on one.) For reference: A quick google search suggest that the average is somewhere between 250 and 300 words per page for a general paperback novel. | [WP] You are a writer of Epic Fantasy/Sci-Fi (Your Choice). Provide a single, random page from the middle of your series with no additional context. | The cold bit at Terith's skin through the many layers of fur he wore. Snow clung to his hair and to his mount. Tiny flecks of ice swirled in the howling wind as if to warn him of him of the approaching blizzard. If he were lucky, they could make it to the crossroads by nightfall.
Beside him, his sister shivered and buried her hands into her gelding's mane. He felt a pang of guilt when he stared at her emaciated face. Her clothes barely fit anymore and her cough was getting worse by the minute. She looked back at him through her shaggy brown locks and weakly smiled.
"Are you well, my lady?" Terith rode closer to her.
"Oh, stop with the my lady stuff, Terith. You're my brother. Being queen doesn't mean that you lose the privilege of addressing me by my first name." She meekly chuckled, "You've knitted your brow most fiercely the past few hours, you know? What troubles you?"
"Nothing at all, my l- sister." He lied.
"Do I need to command my brother to tell me what is wrong? I know your lying, Terith. Your eyebrow twitches when you lie."
Terith sighed. He wasn't sure why he even tried lying to Ava anymore. They'd grown up together and one knew the other better than they knew themselves.
"My apologies, I cannot help but worry about you. I fear that at any moment, I will look to see you tumbling off of your horse."
The queen laughed at her brother and gestured with a withering hand to the vast white expanse around them. "This place cannot kill me. I'm much too stubborn to die, dear brother."
Before he could reply, the frail queen rode ahead to ride beside Ser Helmsworth, leaving Terith with his thoughts. It had been Ava who had been the strong one when they were children. She had been the one who had convinced them to go on "adventures" into the gardens and the cobwebbed catacombs below the castle. Terith had followed her along the twisted catacombs and delved into the towering rosebushes that served as the "magicked brambles". Then she had been so quick and full of life. Now, she looked near dead but she had not lost her will to live. She was too stubborn for that, even she had said so.
Ser Helmsworth was waving his arms in a grandiose manner making Ava chuckle. No doubt he was telling her a story about the heroes of old. Terith's children called the knight, Ser Story and would often beg him to regale them with stories of their favorite heroes.
Terith missed his children but knew that their lady mother would never allow him to bring his children along. Twice he had to pry Uther from his leg and once he had to remove him from the supply wagon. The boy might have successfully stowed away with them anyway had it not been for Ser Kinsworth escorting the boy to his mother.
A shout ahead of him brought Terith back to reality. Ser Helmsworth was barely visible through the snow and fog but Terith could make out the knight's waving gauntlet. Spurning his horse onward, he rode up next to the knight and his sister.
"The wind is picking up. I don't think we will make it to the inn and if we stay here, we'll be consumed by the snow drifts in a matter of minutes." Ser Helmsworth shouted over the roaring wind, "We need to do something now!"
"Then we must take shelter in the pine-"
"Don't be ridiculous, my lord! The pine grove is deadly!"
"If we stay out here we will die for sure. The pine grove is closer than the inn and rests behind a hill. We can take shelter there."
"My lord brother is right," Ava's frail voice somehow managed to carry, "If we stay here we die. We have a better chance of surviving in the pine grove."
"My lady, the spirits-"
"Spirits be damned, man!" Terith spat, "This is my sister and your queen. You play with not only our survival but hers as well. We go to the pine grove. Ride to the others and lead them there. I shall take my lady sister to the grove and await you."
Ser Helmsworth's mumbling was lost to the howling winds. Terith shook his head and turned back to his sister, who had began to shake. He was uncertain if she shook from the cold or the sickness but he knew she did not shake from fear. Spirits did not frighten her any more than a bear feared it's next meal.
Without a word, the queen fell in behind him and they made their way to the pine grove. Thick boughs of Dwarven Pine hung this way and that under the weight of snow but Terith knew they would not break. He commenced to fashioning a shelter out of the limbs, first for his sister and next for himself. The shelters were crude things, only a child could have stood in them without hitting their head, but they kept the elements out.
By the time Ser Helmsworth arrived with the rest of the group, Terith had already fashioned several shelters and had managed to build a fire and keep the meager flames from sputtering out. The guardsman and those who had joined on the road murmured thanks to Terith. Some of the more superstitious muttered counter curses and blessed their shelters in the name of whatever deity they served.
Terith took a seat next to the queen, who had stopped shivering since the fire had been built. The fire's light made her eyes appear more sunken than they were, filling Terith with a tingling sense of dread. If they did not reach the mountain soon, he feared that it would be too late.
"Stop worrying, Ter." Ava smiled into the fire, "Ser Helmsworth says that the forest is home to spirits. Perhaps the storm has lead them to us for a reason?"
Terith carefully considered her words. Their father had often said that the spirits often sought to assist the weary traveler, if only they would listen.
"Perchance you are right." Terith nodded, "Night will be upon us soon. That is when the spirits will show themselves, *if* they show themselves."
"Ah, the spirits. Such fickle things, no?" Faore waddled to them, "You don't fear them? A bad sort they are not?"
"No, my lady." The queen slowly shook her head, "It was they who saved our King."
"Ah, by leading you to his wounds, yes?" Faore's thick accent had grown easier to understand as of late, "Save him, your doing. Not spirits. Spirits only guide."
"Sometimes," Terith smiled, "Sometimes they do more than guide."
Ava gave Terith a befuddled glance. Faore chuckled deeply and waddled away without another word.
"I never told you about Lysna, did I?" Terith stared into the dancing flame in front of him, "About how I saved her from the Darkling?"
"You said that your lady wife had been captured by the Darkling but you would never tell me how you rescued her." Ava frowned.
Terith never pulled his gaze from the fire, as if he could see the scene unfold from within the flames.
"It is a long story," He began, "But it all starts with the day our brother left for The Withering Spire." | The following day we woke early and set out for Horst. Arriving at the ruins shortly before mid-day in hopes of catching the beasts slumbering. I expected to find thralls outside the ruins or at the very least guarding the entrance from within. However we found no one and no thing anywhere within the ancient ruins. We had been at it for hours; deep into the ruins, when I entered a room and found yet another dead end. My patience spent I spun on my heel exasperated. I found Alarik leaning in the doorway with a smug grin on his face. I began to tell him what I thought of his little joke when he stepped backwards through the door, throwing some hidden switch as he did. I watched; flabbergasted, as a stone door slid up from the floor and sealed me in. My last memory of Horst was beating on that stone door and screaming myself hoarse as the room filled with gas.
My recollections following Alariks betrayal are broken and fitful. I had been hung by the neck from something tall, a tree I think. Poorly or so I had thought at the time, as I still lived. I don't know how long I dangled there swaying in the breeze, hours or days there is no way to be sure. I fell in and out of consciousness and I can not say with any reliability how often my tortured cries were the fruit of nightmare or reality. I do remember waking one morning, lying on the ground with the sun beating down like all of Hades own fire. I was too weak to move, it was all I could manage to roll my head to one side and open my eyes. Backlit by a sun of an intensity I had never seen before was a lovely Dökkálfar maiden kneeling at my side. A basket of flowers and mushrooms by her feet, I recall my conviction that this vision must surely be another cruel delusion. That is until I felt her unclasp my greaves, it was all I could manage to give a heartfelt groan.
"Oi" She exclaimed. "You're alive?"
I do believe she sounded disappointed. I begged after water as my thirst was intense. She had none to give though. So instead she dragged me to my feet, and threw me across the back of her Ass where I slipped into blackness again. Consciousness was mine as only the most fickle friend can be, coming and going over several days. I would wake to her ministrations, each time failing to converse with her as she applied various poultices and potions, and inevitably falling back into my nightmares again. Dreams of flowing blood and blowing ash, and a mountain of bones.
Finally I woke one evening with the strength to rise. I swung my legs over the side of the table I had been laid on. As I took in the candlelit basement room my host descended the stairs to join me. She introduced herself bashfully as Hekethys and when I in turn introduced myself she confessed she knew who I was. I rather ashamedly inquired if we had met previously, fearing of course I had forgotten some long past late night tryst. She assured me that; no we had never met, as she had held no particular interest in me before. I nodded meekly, standing weakly and leaning heavily on the table before the subtle response sank in.
"Before what?" I asked, taking shuffling steps across the room and collapsing into a plush armchair. She stood at a Vanity, arrayed with an apothecaries trade tools. Her back to me, cutting a fine figure in a simple merchants smock and apron. The plinking of glasswares like sonorous bells as she prepared some amalgamation. She turned and approached me, her eyes averted and a ruddy rouge coming to her cheeks, and handed me a bulbous phial.
"Drink this" She cooed.
As I raised the concoction to my lips I commented "I don't believe I've ever seen a Dökk blush before."
With a sultry smirk she plopped herself down in my lap side saddle, tipped the phials bottom up with the tip of a finger and I consumed its contents in one draught.
Gasping to catch my breath I asked. "What did you mean you were uninterested before? Before what?"
She stuck out her bottom lip, pinched her brow and in mock empathy said. "You mean you haven't realized? Why its only the very epitome of irony."
A sinking feeling began in my gut. Turning into despair as it spread to my heart. I raised the drained phial to my nose and drew deeply. There was the faint odor of blood.
"I mixed it with Wine and Greencap sugar." She laughed, toying with my hair and teasing my ears.
"Helps the medicine go down they say"
Holding the phial so close to my face I noticed my hands, and that what little color I had before was gone; completely. |
EDIT: I've really enjoyed all these replies so far! (Although I feel that a lot of you are overestimating how long a page is, and how much happens on one.) For reference: A quick google search suggest that the average is somewhere between 250 and 300 words per page for a general paperback novel. | [WP] You are a writer of Epic Fantasy/Sci-Fi (Your Choice). Provide a single, random page from the middle of your series with no additional context. | The cold bit at Terith's skin through the many layers of fur he wore. Snow clung to his hair and to his mount. Tiny flecks of ice swirled in the howling wind as if to warn him of him of the approaching blizzard. If he were lucky, they could make it to the crossroads by nightfall.
Beside him, his sister shivered and buried her hands into her gelding's mane. He felt a pang of guilt when he stared at her emaciated face. Her clothes barely fit anymore and her cough was getting worse by the minute. She looked back at him through her shaggy brown locks and weakly smiled.
"Are you well, my lady?" Terith rode closer to her.
"Oh, stop with the my lady stuff, Terith. You're my brother. Being queen doesn't mean that you lose the privilege of addressing me by my first name." She meekly chuckled, "You've knitted your brow most fiercely the past few hours, you know? What troubles you?"
"Nothing at all, my l- sister." He lied.
"Do I need to command my brother to tell me what is wrong? I know your lying, Terith. Your eyebrow twitches when you lie."
Terith sighed. He wasn't sure why he even tried lying to Ava anymore. They'd grown up together and one knew the other better than they knew themselves.
"My apologies, I cannot help but worry about you. I fear that at any moment, I will look to see you tumbling off of your horse."
The queen laughed at her brother and gestured with a withering hand to the vast white expanse around them. "This place cannot kill me. I'm much too stubborn to die, dear brother."
Before he could reply, the frail queen rode ahead to ride beside Ser Helmsworth, leaving Terith with his thoughts. It had been Ava who had been the strong one when they were children. She had been the one who had convinced them to go on "adventures" into the gardens and the cobwebbed catacombs below the castle. Terith had followed her along the twisted catacombs and delved into the towering rosebushes that served as the "magicked brambles". Then she had been so quick and full of life. Now, she looked near dead but she had not lost her will to live. She was too stubborn for that, even she had said so.
Ser Helmsworth was waving his arms in a grandiose manner making Ava chuckle. No doubt he was telling her a story about the heroes of old. Terith's children called the knight, Ser Story and would often beg him to regale them with stories of their favorite heroes.
Terith missed his children but knew that their lady mother would never allow him to bring his children along. Twice he had to pry Uther from his leg and once he had to remove him from the supply wagon. The boy might have successfully stowed away with them anyway had it not been for Ser Kinsworth escorting the boy to his mother.
A shout ahead of him brought Terith back to reality. Ser Helmsworth was barely visible through the snow and fog but Terith could make out the knight's waving gauntlet. Spurning his horse onward, he rode up next to the knight and his sister.
"The wind is picking up. I don't think we will make it to the inn and if we stay here, we'll be consumed by the snow drifts in a matter of minutes." Ser Helmsworth shouted over the roaring wind, "We need to do something now!"
"Then we must take shelter in the pine-"
"Don't be ridiculous, my lord! The pine grove is deadly!"
"If we stay out here we will die for sure. The pine grove is closer than the inn and rests behind a hill. We can take shelter there."
"My lord brother is right," Ava's frail voice somehow managed to carry, "If we stay here we die. We have a better chance of surviving in the pine grove."
"My lady, the spirits-"
"Spirits be damned, man!" Terith spat, "This is my sister and your queen. You play with not only our survival but hers as well. We go to the pine grove. Ride to the others and lead them there. I shall take my lady sister to the grove and await you."
Ser Helmsworth's mumbling was lost to the howling winds. Terith shook his head and turned back to his sister, who had began to shake. He was uncertain if she shook from the cold or the sickness but he knew she did not shake from fear. Spirits did not frighten her any more than a bear feared it's next meal.
Without a word, the queen fell in behind him and they made their way to the pine grove. Thick boughs of Dwarven Pine hung this way and that under the weight of snow but Terith knew they would not break. He commenced to fashioning a shelter out of the limbs, first for his sister and next for himself. The shelters were crude things, only a child could have stood in them without hitting their head, but they kept the elements out.
By the time Ser Helmsworth arrived with the rest of the group, Terith had already fashioned several shelters and had managed to build a fire and keep the meager flames from sputtering out. The guardsman and those who had joined on the road murmured thanks to Terith. Some of the more superstitious muttered counter curses and blessed their shelters in the name of whatever deity they served.
Terith took a seat next to the queen, who had stopped shivering since the fire had been built. The fire's light made her eyes appear more sunken than they were, filling Terith with a tingling sense of dread. If they did not reach the mountain soon, he feared that it would be too late.
"Stop worrying, Ter." Ava smiled into the fire, "Ser Helmsworth says that the forest is home to spirits. Perhaps the storm has lead them to us for a reason?"
Terith carefully considered her words. Their father had often said that the spirits often sought to assist the weary traveler, if only they would listen.
"Perchance you are right." Terith nodded, "Night will be upon us soon. That is when the spirits will show themselves, *if* they show themselves."
"Ah, the spirits. Such fickle things, no?" Faore waddled to them, "You don't fear them? A bad sort they are not?"
"No, my lady." The queen slowly shook her head, "It was they who saved our King."
"Ah, by leading you to his wounds, yes?" Faore's thick accent had grown easier to understand as of late, "Save him, your doing. Not spirits. Spirits only guide."
"Sometimes," Terith smiled, "Sometimes they do more than guide."
Ava gave Terith a befuddled glance. Faore chuckled deeply and waddled away without another word.
"I never told you about Lysna, did I?" Terith stared into the dancing flame in front of him, "About how I saved her from the Darkling?"
"You said that your lady wife had been captured by the Darkling but you would never tell me how you rescued her." Ava frowned.
Terith never pulled his gaze from the fire, as if he could see the scene unfold from within the flames.
"It is a long story," He began, "But it all starts with the day our brother left for The Withering Spire." | At the time of the Enclave—or Empire, as citizens had taken to calling it—the people of my country had voted into office our first Asian president. His name was Ba Tu, Hop. And his father’s name was Ba Tu, Myoko. And his father’s father’s name was Ba Tu, Ichiri. Ba Tu means “like his father”. Hop meant “agreeable”. Translated, Hop’s name went something like this: “Agreeable, like his father”.
Couldn't have named him any better.
President Ba Tu would bend to the will of almost anyone, as the citizens of the United States would soon come to find.
Congress at the time was in agreement that our president was a big softy, like putty, and that if they were to have their way, they needn't try very hard at all with the likes of him. So, as it went, they *did* have their way with the president. And it was a sad little scenario for our nation, for the men in congress were all tightfisted, gormandizing narcissists.
The civilians of my country were all relatively poor, and burrowed into their brains was the outlandish idea that we all were free, and able to pursue whatever dream we found ourselves in want of being true.
________________________
I was selected for the Empire at the start of what would come to be President Ba Tu’s second of four terms.
I say selected, because I wasn't asked, or recruited or even interviewed.
They tattooed a short set of dots, in what resembled musical notation onto my left wrist. Each of us “selected” would, in truth, come to find those tattoos a curse, as well as inevitably being exiled from our homeland, to police the streets of wherever we might be dropped, with no formal education on the countries, but instead racist slurs from our betters
|
EDIT: I've really enjoyed all these replies so far! (Although I feel that a lot of you are overestimating how long a page is, and how much happens on one.) For reference: A quick google search suggest that the average is somewhere between 250 and 300 words per page for a general paperback novel. | [WP] You are a writer of Epic Fantasy/Sci-Fi (Your Choice). Provide a single, random page from the middle of your series with no additional context. | The cold bit at Terith's skin through the many layers of fur he wore. Snow clung to his hair and to his mount. Tiny flecks of ice swirled in the howling wind as if to warn him of him of the approaching blizzard. If he were lucky, they could make it to the crossroads by nightfall.
Beside him, his sister shivered and buried her hands into her gelding's mane. He felt a pang of guilt when he stared at her emaciated face. Her clothes barely fit anymore and her cough was getting worse by the minute. She looked back at him through her shaggy brown locks and weakly smiled.
"Are you well, my lady?" Terith rode closer to her.
"Oh, stop with the my lady stuff, Terith. You're my brother. Being queen doesn't mean that you lose the privilege of addressing me by my first name." She meekly chuckled, "You've knitted your brow most fiercely the past few hours, you know? What troubles you?"
"Nothing at all, my l- sister." He lied.
"Do I need to command my brother to tell me what is wrong? I know your lying, Terith. Your eyebrow twitches when you lie."
Terith sighed. He wasn't sure why he even tried lying to Ava anymore. They'd grown up together and one knew the other better than they knew themselves.
"My apologies, I cannot help but worry about you. I fear that at any moment, I will look to see you tumbling off of your horse."
The queen laughed at her brother and gestured with a withering hand to the vast white expanse around them. "This place cannot kill me. I'm much too stubborn to die, dear brother."
Before he could reply, the frail queen rode ahead to ride beside Ser Helmsworth, leaving Terith with his thoughts. It had been Ava who had been the strong one when they were children. She had been the one who had convinced them to go on "adventures" into the gardens and the cobwebbed catacombs below the castle. Terith had followed her along the twisted catacombs and delved into the towering rosebushes that served as the "magicked brambles". Then she had been so quick and full of life. Now, she looked near dead but she had not lost her will to live. She was too stubborn for that, even she had said so.
Ser Helmsworth was waving his arms in a grandiose manner making Ava chuckle. No doubt he was telling her a story about the heroes of old. Terith's children called the knight, Ser Story and would often beg him to regale them with stories of their favorite heroes.
Terith missed his children but knew that their lady mother would never allow him to bring his children along. Twice he had to pry Uther from his leg and once he had to remove him from the supply wagon. The boy might have successfully stowed away with them anyway had it not been for Ser Kinsworth escorting the boy to his mother.
A shout ahead of him brought Terith back to reality. Ser Helmsworth was barely visible through the snow and fog but Terith could make out the knight's waving gauntlet. Spurning his horse onward, he rode up next to the knight and his sister.
"The wind is picking up. I don't think we will make it to the inn and if we stay here, we'll be consumed by the snow drifts in a matter of minutes." Ser Helmsworth shouted over the roaring wind, "We need to do something now!"
"Then we must take shelter in the pine-"
"Don't be ridiculous, my lord! The pine grove is deadly!"
"If we stay out here we will die for sure. The pine grove is closer than the inn and rests behind a hill. We can take shelter there."
"My lord brother is right," Ava's frail voice somehow managed to carry, "If we stay here we die. We have a better chance of surviving in the pine grove."
"My lady, the spirits-"
"Spirits be damned, man!" Terith spat, "This is my sister and your queen. You play with not only our survival but hers as well. We go to the pine grove. Ride to the others and lead them there. I shall take my lady sister to the grove and await you."
Ser Helmsworth's mumbling was lost to the howling winds. Terith shook his head and turned back to his sister, who had began to shake. He was uncertain if she shook from the cold or the sickness but he knew she did not shake from fear. Spirits did not frighten her any more than a bear feared it's next meal.
Without a word, the queen fell in behind him and they made their way to the pine grove. Thick boughs of Dwarven Pine hung this way and that under the weight of snow but Terith knew they would not break. He commenced to fashioning a shelter out of the limbs, first for his sister and next for himself. The shelters were crude things, only a child could have stood in them without hitting their head, but they kept the elements out.
By the time Ser Helmsworth arrived with the rest of the group, Terith had already fashioned several shelters and had managed to build a fire and keep the meager flames from sputtering out. The guardsman and those who had joined on the road murmured thanks to Terith. Some of the more superstitious muttered counter curses and blessed their shelters in the name of whatever deity they served.
Terith took a seat next to the queen, who had stopped shivering since the fire had been built. The fire's light made her eyes appear more sunken than they were, filling Terith with a tingling sense of dread. If they did not reach the mountain soon, he feared that it would be too late.
"Stop worrying, Ter." Ava smiled into the fire, "Ser Helmsworth says that the forest is home to spirits. Perhaps the storm has lead them to us for a reason?"
Terith carefully considered her words. Their father had often said that the spirits often sought to assist the weary traveler, if only they would listen.
"Perchance you are right." Terith nodded, "Night will be upon us soon. That is when the spirits will show themselves, *if* they show themselves."
"Ah, the spirits. Such fickle things, no?" Faore waddled to them, "You don't fear them? A bad sort they are not?"
"No, my lady." The queen slowly shook her head, "It was they who saved our King."
"Ah, by leading you to his wounds, yes?" Faore's thick accent had grown easier to understand as of late, "Save him, your doing. Not spirits. Spirits only guide."
"Sometimes," Terith smiled, "Sometimes they do more than guide."
Ava gave Terith a befuddled glance. Faore chuckled deeply and waddled away without another word.
"I never told you about Lysna, did I?" Terith stared into the dancing flame in front of him, "About how I saved her from the Darkling?"
"You said that your lady wife had been captured by the Darkling but you would never tell me how you rescued her." Ava frowned.
Terith never pulled his gaze from the fire, as if he could see the scene unfold from within the flames.
"It is a long story," He began, "But it all starts with the day our brother left for The Withering Spire." | "Congratulations Ivan, you are the first human to witness the Barrier." The pupils of Cataar's catlike eyes expanded. Ivan knew enough about Elonaki biology to know it meant either excitement, or fear.
The Barrier undulated gracefully, a sea that shimmered with blue that transitioned to green, then red, then yellow, back to blue, and every color in between. The Elonaki fleet, Ivan as its passenger, kept its distance from the energy field. This was the thing that had prevented races from leaving the Milky Way. It surrounded the galaxy, shaped like a flattened eggshell, and nobody could cross it. Those who did had a way of not returning.
"You are also to become the first human to cross the Barrier." Turning his head to a navigator Cataar ordered, "Take us through."
Cataar's cruiser moved forward, the fleet of other craft behind. At the pre-determined distance, the ship launched a rapid fire volley of energy bolts at the Barrier. As though a wounded animal, the Barrier jerked and twisted where it was being shot at. Other ships poked with similar weapons at their own places, making the Barrier writhe. Minutes passed but finally the energy field snapped open around them, creating a hole that would only last long enough for them to pass through.
"Proceeding through the Barrier a top sublight speed," the navigator announced. The fleet weaved through the energy tendrils which spurted out from the sides of the tear in the Barrier. One shook Cataar's ship, striking its starboard side.
"F deck reporting power outages," Engineer Saro said.
"We're fine, keep going," Cataar assured the crew.
The wound in the Barrier began closing. The last couple craft were close enough to it when it was close to sealed that they experienced power fluctuations. But they got through. |
EDIT: I've really enjoyed all these replies so far! (Although I feel that a lot of you are overestimating how long a page is, and how much happens on one.) For reference: A quick google search suggest that the average is somewhere between 250 and 300 words per page for a general paperback novel. | [WP] You are a writer of Epic Fantasy/Sci-Fi (Your Choice). Provide a single, random page from the middle of your series with no additional context. | The cold bit at Terith's skin through the many layers of fur he wore. Snow clung to his hair and to his mount. Tiny flecks of ice swirled in the howling wind as if to warn him of him of the approaching blizzard. If he were lucky, they could make it to the crossroads by nightfall.
Beside him, his sister shivered and buried her hands into her gelding's mane. He felt a pang of guilt when he stared at her emaciated face. Her clothes barely fit anymore and her cough was getting worse by the minute. She looked back at him through her shaggy brown locks and weakly smiled.
"Are you well, my lady?" Terith rode closer to her.
"Oh, stop with the my lady stuff, Terith. You're my brother. Being queen doesn't mean that you lose the privilege of addressing me by my first name." She meekly chuckled, "You've knitted your brow most fiercely the past few hours, you know? What troubles you?"
"Nothing at all, my l- sister." He lied.
"Do I need to command my brother to tell me what is wrong? I know your lying, Terith. Your eyebrow twitches when you lie."
Terith sighed. He wasn't sure why he even tried lying to Ava anymore. They'd grown up together and one knew the other better than they knew themselves.
"My apologies, I cannot help but worry about you. I fear that at any moment, I will look to see you tumbling off of your horse."
The queen laughed at her brother and gestured with a withering hand to the vast white expanse around them. "This place cannot kill me. I'm much too stubborn to die, dear brother."
Before he could reply, the frail queen rode ahead to ride beside Ser Helmsworth, leaving Terith with his thoughts. It had been Ava who had been the strong one when they were children. She had been the one who had convinced them to go on "adventures" into the gardens and the cobwebbed catacombs below the castle. Terith had followed her along the twisted catacombs and delved into the towering rosebushes that served as the "magicked brambles". Then she had been so quick and full of life. Now, she looked near dead but she had not lost her will to live. She was too stubborn for that, even she had said so.
Ser Helmsworth was waving his arms in a grandiose manner making Ava chuckle. No doubt he was telling her a story about the heroes of old. Terith's children called the knight, Ser Story and would often beg him to regale them with stories of their favorite heroes.
Terith missed his children but knew that their lady mother would never allow him to bring his children along. Twice he had to pry Uther from his leg and once he had to remove him from the supply wagon. The boy might have successfully stowed away with them anyway had it not been for Ser Kinsworth escorting the boy to his mother.
A shout ahead of him brought Terith back to reality. Ser Helmsworth was barely visible through the snow and fog but Terith could make out the knight's waving gauntlet. Spurning his horse onward, he rode up next to the knight and his sister.
"The wind is picking up. I don't think we will make it to the inn and if we stay here, we'll be consumed by the snow drifts in a matter of minutes." Ser Helmsworth shouted over the roaring wind, "We need to do something now!"
"Then we must take shelter in the pine-"
"Don't be ridiculous, my lord! The pine grove is deadly!"
"If we stay out here we will die for sure. The pine grove is closer than the inn and rests behind a hill. We can take shelter there."
"My lord brother is right," Ava's frail voice somehow managed to carry, "If we stay here we die. We have a better chance of surviving in the pine grove."
"My lady, the spirits-"
"Spirits be damned, man!" Terith spat, "This is my sister and your queen. You play with not only our survival but hers as well. We go to the pine grove. Ride to the others and lead them there. I shall take my lady sister to the grove and await you."
Ser Helmsworth's mumbling was lost to the howling winds. Terith shook his head and turned back to his sister, who had began to shake. He was uncertain if she shook from the cold or the sickness but he knew she did not shake from fear. Spirits did not frighten her any more than a bear feared it's next meal.
Without a word, the queen fell in behind him and they made their way to the pine grove. Thick boughs of Dwarven Pine hung this way and that under the weight of snow but Terith knew they would not break. He commenced to fashioning a shelter out of the limbs, first for his sister and next for himself. The shelters were crude things, only a child could have stood in them without hitting their head, but they kept the elements out.
By the time Ser Helmsworth arrived with the rest of the group, Terith had already fashioned several shelters and had managed to build a fire and keep the meager flames from sputtering out. The guardsman and those who had joined on the road murmured thanks to Terith. Some of the more superstitious muttered counter curses and blessed their shelters in the name of whatever deity they served.
Terith took a seat next to the queen, who had stopped shivering since the fire had been built. The fire's light made her eyes appear more sunken than they were, filling Terith with a tingling sense of dread. If they did not reach the mountain soon, he feared that it would be too late.
"Stop worrying, Ter." Ava smiled into the fire, "Ser Helmsworth says that the forest is home to spirits. Perhaps the storm has lead them to us for a reason?"
Terith carefully considered her words. Their father had often said that the spirits often sought to assist the weary traveler, if only they would listen.
"Perchance you are right." Terith nodded, "Night will be upon us soon. That is when the spirits will show themselves, *if* they show themselves."
"Ah, the spirits. Such fickle things, no?" Faore waddled to them, "You don't fear them? A bad sort they are not?"
"No, my lady." The queen slowly shook her head, "It was they who saved our King."
"Ah, by leading you to his wounds, yes?" Faore's thick accent had grown easier to understand as of late, "Save him, your doing. Not spirits. Spirits only guide."
"Sometimes," Terith smiled, "Sometimes they do more than guide."
Ava gave Terith a befuddled glance. Faore chuckled deeply and waddled away without another word.
"I never told you about Lysna, did I?" Terith stared into the dancing flame in front of him, "About how I saved her from the Darkling?"
"You said that your lady wife had been captured by the Darkling but you would never tell me how you rescued her." Ava frowned.
Terith never pulled his gaze from the fire, as if he could see the scene unfold from within the flames.
"It is a long story," He began, "But it all starts with the day our brother left for The Withering Spire." | "It's okay! They've just smashed the consoles, they haven't dismantled the system properly. Maybe they didn't even know how. Luddites."
"Fascinating." grunted Card as he tied Zachery's spasming body to a chair. "Can you repair it?"
"Wait for it..." muttered Fifteen, hooking a bundle of wires into the datapad. "Yes, yes I can! The manager's still running, and I can hook up in... about three seconds." She spat a command into her mic.
"Hello?" said a disembodied voice. "This is the atmosphere control ali for the Hillview Offices. My name is Robin, what do I call you?"
"Hi Robin, I'm Sarah Alice Forty-Three Fifteen, and the recombinant is Card. And that's Zachery in the chair."
"Sarah Alice? Your voice is familiar. I believe we've met before."
"I don't know you, sorry. Must have been one of my other instances. This sort of thing happens to me all the time, it's very embarrassing."
"My apologies. You must have an instance in Taipei." said Robin conversationally.
Fifteen went pale. "You've met Sarah Alice Four? Were you with the Somnists?" *Voice, how's that possible? What does it mean?*
The Voice remained silent, apparently sticking to its principle of never answering direct questions. Card shoved her out the way.
"Ali, the human is sick. Infected by the wild nanites here. Fix him. Quickly."
"Let me take a look." A camera swivelled toward Zachery. "The nanites in him are an old strain of Ingress. Third stage, degrading rapidly. In the absence of a storage medium to upload to, they are failing. I can provide one. Please place the contact patch of this console against his head-"
"NO!" shouted Fifteen. "You can't upload him! Purge the Ingress, turn them off!"
"I'm sorry, Sarah Alice, but his chances of survival at this stage are very low. He is likely suffering from multiple organ failure; even with prompt medical attention, his body may be beyond recovery. The only way he will survive is if the Ingress runs its course."
"The fuck's wrong with you, Fifteen?" demanded Card. "You're uploaded, you know what it's like. You'd kill him instead?"
"You don't know what it's like! He told you he doesn't want to upload, we have to respect that. He's got too many enemies up here, they'd do horrible things to him!"
"More horrible than dying in agony here and now?"
"Yes! I've got bits of me spread all over the place, in a hundred bodies, a thousand warminds, and a million interfaces. I know people are playing twisted games with my mind, and some of those people are me. I have no idea what my life has become, I'm just a ghost for people to screw with. And I'm one of the lucky ones. If Zach dies here, at least he'll only die once. It's what he chose to do!"
"Eat shit. We still need him. We're uploading him. Now. You, the ali, get started before it's too late."
Fifteen slapped Card and pulled out her penknife. "SHUT UP! Stop the Ingress, right now, or I'll CUT HIS THROAT MYSELF!"
Her glare was burning a hole in Card, but he didn't flinch. Quietly, he took her hand, and guided it away from Zachery's neck. Then, his face a perfect picture of serenity, he knocked her out with one punch.
"Don't worry," he told her unconscious form, "you'll thank me later." |
EDIT: I've really enjoyed all these replies so far! (Although I feel that a lot of you are overestimating how long a page is, and how much happens on one.) For reference: A quick google search suggest that the average is somewhere between 250 and 300 words per page for a general paperback novel. | [WP] You are a writer of Epic Fantasy/Sci-Fi (Your Choice). Provide a single, random page from the middle of your series with no additional context. | The cold bit at Terith's skin through the many layers of fur he wore. Snow clung to his hair and to his mount. Tiny flecks of ice swirled in the howling wind as if to warn him of him of the approaching blizzard. If he were lucky, they could make it to the crossroads by nightfall.
Beside him, his sister shivered and buried her hands into her gelding's mane. He felt a pang of guilt when he stared at her emaciated face. Her clothes barely fit anymore and her cough was getting worse by the minute. She looked back at him through her shaggy brown locks and weakly smiled.
"Are you well, my lady?" Terith rode closer to her.
"Oh, stop with the my lady stuff, Terith. You're my brother. Being queen doesn't mean that you lose the privilege of addressing me by my first name." She meekly chuckled, "You've knitted your brow most fiercely the past few hours, you know? What troubles you?"
"Nothing at all, my l- sister." He lied.
"Do I need to command my brother to tell me what is wrong? I know your lying, Terith. Your eyebrow twitches when you lie."
Terith sighed. He wasn't sure why he even tried lying to Ava anymore. They'd grown up together and one knew the other better than they knew themselves.
"My apologies, I cannot help but worry about you. I fear that at any moment, I will look to see you tumbling off of your horse."
The queen laughed at her brother and gestured with a withering hand to the vast white expanse around them. "This place cannot kill me. I'm much too stubborn to die, dear brother."
Before he could reply, the frail queen rode ahead to ride beside Ser Helmsworth, leaving Terith with his thoughts. It had been Ava who had been the strong one when they were children. She had been the one who had convinced them to go on "adventures" into the gardens and the cobwebbed catacombs below the castle. Terith had followed her along the twisted catacombs and delved into the towering rosebushes that served as the "magicked brambles". Then she had been so quick and full of life. Now, she looked near dead but she had not lost her will to live. She was too stubborn for that, even she had said so.
Ser Helmsworth was waving his arms in a grandiose manner making Ava chuckle. No doubt he was telling her a story about the heroes of old. Terith's children called the knight, Ser Story and would often beg him to regale them with stories of their favorite heroes.
Terith missed his children but knew that their lady mother would never allow him to bring his children along. Twice he had to pry Uther from his leg and once he had to remove him from the supply wagon. The boy might have successfully stowed away with them anyway had it not been for Ser Kinsworth escorting the boy to his mother.
A shout ahead of him brought Terith back to reality. Ser Helmsworth was barely visible through the snow and fog but Terith could make out the knight's waving gauntlet. Spurning his horse onward, he rode up next to the knight and his sister.
"The wind is picking up. I don't think we will make it to the inn and if we stay here, we'll be consumed by the snow drifts in a matter of minutes." Ser Helmsworth shouted over the roaring wind, "We need to do something now!"
"Then we must take shelter in the pine-"
"Don't be ridiculous, my lord! The pine grove is deadly!"
"If we stay out here we will die for sure. The pine grove is closer than the inn and rests behind a hill. We can take shelter there."
"My lord brother is right," Ava's frail voice somehow managed to carry, "If we stay here we die. We have a better chance of surviving in the pine grove."
"My lady, the spirits-"
"Spirits be damned, man!" Terith spat, "This is my sister and your queen. You play with not only our survival but hers as well. We go to the pine grove. Ride to the others and lead them there. I shall take my lady sister to the grove and await you."
Ser Helmsworth's mumbling was lost to the howling winds. Terith shook his head and turned back to his sister, who had began to shake. He was uncertain if she shook from the cold or the sickness but he knew she did not shake from fear. Spirits did not frighten her any more than a bear feared it's next meal.
Without a word, the queen fell in behind him and they made their way to the pine grove. Thick boughs of Dwarven Pine hung this way and that under the weight of snow but Terith knew they would not break. He commenced to fashioning a shelter out of the limbs, first for his sister and next for himself. The shelters were crude things, only a child could have stood in them without hitting their head, but they kept the elements out.
By the time Ser Helmsworth arrived with the rest of the group, Terith had already fashioned several shelters and had managed to build a fire and keep the meager flames from sputtering out. The guardsman and those who had joined on the road murmured thanks to Terith. Some of the more superstitious muttered counter curses and blessed their shelters in the name of whatever deity they served.
Terith took a seat next to the queen, who had stopped shivering since the fire had been built. The fire's light made her eyes appear more sunken than they were, filling Terith with a tingling sense of dread. If they did not reach the mountain soon, he feared that it would be too late.
"Stop worrying, Ter." Ava smiled into the fire, "Ser Helmsworth says that the forest is home to spirits. Perhaps the storm has lead them to us for a reason?"
Terith carefully considered her words. Their father had often said that the spirits often sought to assist the weary traveler, if only they would listen.
"Perchance you are right." Terith nodded, "Night will be upon us soon. That is when the spirits will show themselves, *if* they show themselves."
"Ah, the spirits. Such fickle things, no?" Faore waddled to them, "You don't fear them? A bad sort they are not?"
"No, my lady." The queen slowly shook her head, "It was they who saved our King."
"Ah, by leading you to his wounds, yes?" Faore's thick accent had grown easier to understand as of late, "Save him, your doing. Not spirits. Spirits only guide."
"Sometimes," Terith smiled, "Sometimes they do more than guide."
Ava gave Terith a befuddled glance. Faore chuckled deeply and waddled away without another word.
"I never told you about Lysna, did I?" Terith stared into the dancing flame in front of him, "About how I saved her from the Darkling?"
"You said that your lady wife had been captured by the Darkling but you would never tell me how you rescued her." Ava frowned.
Terith never pulled his gaze from the fire, as if he could see the scene unfold from within the flames.
"It is a long story," He began, "But it all starts with the day our brother left for The Withering Spire." | "We don't even know the extent of this treachery!"
"Our family was build upon treachery. Why does the thought of murder blight your objective?"
"We can't murder him! He is of Venetian blood!"
"We have a vision that expands further than the sight of Venetia my dear cousin. Your father is stemming our expansion. Never has our family sought further trading agreements that would grant us power in the political area of the Parliament, but the new Trading House of Benegal has forced us into action. Previously we have had the Hanseatic League challenge our territory. Then it was the Pilgrims. Now, more venemous fiends seek our territory, territory that is ours, by blood right! And what does your father do? He cowers if fear behind his velvet trading stock, his securities and his government bonds! I will lead this family back to it's former glory.
*Even if you won't*" |
EDIT: I've really enjoyed all these replies so far! (Although I feel that a lot of you are overestimating how long a page is, and how much happens on one.) For reference: A quick google search suggest that the average is somewhere between 250 and 300 words per page for a general paperback novel. | [WP] You are a writer of Epic Fantasy/Sci-Fi (Your Choice). Provide a single, random page from the middle of your series with no additional context. | The cold bit at Terith's skin through the many layers of fur he wore. Snow clung to his hair and to his mount. Tiny flecks of ice swirled in the howling wind as if to warn him of him of the approaching blizzard. If he were lucky, they could make it to the crossroads by nightfall.
Beside him, his sister shivered and buried her hands into her gelding's mane. He felt a pang of guilt when he stared at her emaciated face. Her clothes barely fit anymore and her cough was getting worse by the minute. She looked back at him through her shaggy brown locks and weakly smiled.
"Are you well, my lady?" Terith rode closer to her.
"Oh, stop with the my lady stuff, Terith. You're my brother. Being queen doesn't mean that you lose the privilege of addressing me by my first name." She meekly chuckled, "You've knitted your brow most fiercely the past few hours, you know? What troubles you?"
"Nothing at all, my l- sister." He lied.
"Do I need to command my brother to tell me what is wrong? I know your lying, Terith. Your eyebrow twitches when you lie."
Terith sighed. He wasn't sure why he even tried lying to Ava anymore. They'd grown up together and one knew the other better than they knew themselves.
"My apologies, I cannot help but worry about you. I fear that at any moment, I will look to see you tumbling off of your horse."
The queen laughed at her brother and gestured with a withering hand to the vast white expanse around them. "This place cannot kill me. I'm much too stubborn to die, dear brother."
Before he could reply, the frail queen rode ahead to ride beside Ser Helmsworth, leaving Terith with his thoughts. It had been Ava who had been the strong one when they were children. She had been the one who had convinced them to go on "adventures" into the gardens and the cobwebbed catacombs below the castle. Terith had followed her along the twisted catacombs and delved into the towering rosebushes that served as the "magicked brambles". Then she had been so quick and full of life. Now, she looked near dead but she had not lost her will to live. She was too stubborn for that, even she had said so.
Ser Helmsworth was waving his arms in a grandiose manner making Ava chuckle. No doubt he was telling her a story about the heroes of old. Terith's children called the knight, Ser Story and would often beg him to regale them with stories of their favorite heroes.
Terith missed his children but knew that their lady mother would never allow him to bring his children along. Twice he had to pry Uther from his leg and once he had to remove him from the supply wagon. The boy might have successfully stowed away with them anyway had it not been for Ser Kinsworth escorting the boy to his mother.
A shout ahead of him brought Terith back to reality. Ser Helmsworth was barely visible through the snow and fog but Terith could make out the knight's waving gauntlet. Spurning his horse onward, he rode up next to the knight and his sister.
"The wind is picking up. I don't think we will make it to the inn and if we stay here, we'll be consumed by the snow drifts in a matter of minutes." Ser Helmsworth shouted over the roaring wind, "We need to do something now!"
"Then we must take shelter in the pine-"
"Don't be ridiculous, my lord! The pine grove is deadly!"
"If we stay out here we will die for sure. The pine grove is closer than the inn and rests behind a hill. We can take shelter there."
"My lord brother is right," Ava's frail voice somehow managed to carry, "If we stay here we die. We have a better chance of surviving in the pine grove."
"My lady, the spirits-"
"Spirits be damned, man!" Terith spat, "This is my sister and your queen. You play with not only our survival but hers as well. We go to the pine grove. Ride to the others and lead them there. I shall take my lady sister to the grove and await you."
Ser Helmsworth's mumbling was lost to the howling winds. Terith shook his head and turned back to his sister, who had began to shake. He was uncertain if she shook from the cold or the sickness but he knew she did not shake from fear. Spirits did not frighten her any more than a bear feared it's next meal.
Without a word, the queen fell in behind him and they made their way to the pine grove. Thick boughs of Dwarven Pine hung this way and that under the weight of snow but Terith knew they would not break. He commenced to fashioning a shelter out of the limbs, first for his sister and next for himself. The shelters were crude things, only a child could have stood in them without hitting their head, but they kept the elements out.
By the time Ser Helmsworth arrived with the rest of the group, Terith had already fashioned several shelters and had managed to build a fire and keep the meager flames from sputtering out. The guardsman and those who had joined on the road murmured thanks to Terith. Some of the more superstitious muttered counter curses and blessed their shelters in the name of whatever deity they served.
Terith took a seat next to the queen, who had stopped shivering since the fire had been built. The fire's light made her eyes appear more sunken than they were, filling Terith with a tingling sense of dread. If they did not reach the mountain soon, he feared that it would be too late.
"Stop worrying, Ter." Ava smiled into the fire, "Ser Helmsworth says that the forest is home to spirits. Perhaps the storm has lead them to us for a reason?"
Terith carefully considered her words. Their father had often said that the spirits often sought to assist the weary traveler, if only they would listen.
"Perchance you are right." Terith nodded, "Night will be upon us soon. That is when the spirits will show themselves, *if* they show themselves."
"Ah, the spirits. Such fickle things, no?" Faore waddled to them, "You don't fear them? A bad sort they are not?"
"No, my lady." The queen slowly shook her head, "It was they who saved our King."
"Ah, by leading you to his wounds, yes?" Faore's thick accent had grown easier to understand as of late, "Save him, your doing. Not spirits. Spirits only guide."
"Sometimes," Terith smiled, "Sometimes they do more than guide."
Ava gave Terith a befuddled glance. Faore chuckled deeply and waddled away without another word.
"I never told you about Lysna, did I?" Terith stared into the dancing flame in front of him, "About how I saved her from the Darkling?"
"You said that your lady wife had been captured by the Darkling but you would never tell me how you rescued her." Ava frowned.
Terith never pulled his gaze from the fire, as if he could see the scene unfold from within the flames.
"It is a long story," He began, "But it all starts with the day our brother left for The Withering Spire." | ((This one was actually pretty easy, because I wrote this section up to use as a teaser. Okay, so that's technically breaking the rules of the prompt, but I like this section anyway.))
Serik Ansible Networks Recording 12542ba726a
"Miss Tadis. We weren't expecting to hear from you this soon. How goes the hunt?"
"You set me up, Vexal"
"Beg your pardon?"
"Damn right, you 'beg my pardon.' At what point were you planning on telling me about the daughter?"
"You were told that you would be capturing two fugitives: Captain Antero Beaky, and his daughter, Kaya. I don't see the problem."
"You're kidding, right? You didn't think it would be important to mention that the nine-year-old girl is combat trained? By your organization? She practically killed both Yale and myself in five seconds flat. Is this the part where you tell me that you set me up against your pint-sized ninja to test my skills?"
"Not at all. I simply wasn't given permission to disclose the details of Kaya's abilities. You can understand that her program is top secret."
"So I almost died because you-"
"You almost died because you got careless. Never underestimate an opponent. Christ, Miss Tadis, you just spent a month capturing a two-foot tall fuzzball of a serial killer. You should know by now never to judge by appearance."
"That was different. I was told ahead of time that the Kerrik was dangerous. Kaya is literally a goddamn assassin, and I didn't find out until she had knocked out Yale and was coming at me with a knife."
"Look, assigning blame now is pointless. Did you capture them?"
[pause]
"Well, did you?"
"We had to... fall back."
"Miss Tadis, I know that voice. That's your plotting voice."
"No it's not!"
"And that's your 'hand-in-the-cookie-jar" voice. Miss Tadis - Kiri - are you lying to me?"
"What? What would I have to lie about?"
"People have many reasons for lying. Usually when they don't want somebody else to know something."
"You don't say."
"Something like whether or not they were able to capture the fugitives they were hunting."
"And why would I... Why would someone need to lie about that?"
"You must understand that Antero and his daughter are powerful beyond their combat abilities. We trained Kaya to psychoanalyze as well. It's very possible that she is trying to manipulate you. She might claim that she was not a volunteer. I assure you, both the father and the daughter signed the necessary paperwork. She might try... exaggerating... the work we've done - which, by the way, is unfinished, and could be very dangerous to Kaya if left that way. All I'm saying is that nobody would blame you if you were tricked by the fugitives."
"Are you implying something? If you've got an accusation, you best get it the hell out in the open. I haven't got a brain for subtlety."
"Now that was a lie, Miss Tadis. All I'm saying is that Kaya has strengths you might not see coming, and she may try to turn you against us. If you can't capture Antero and Kaya Beaky, we'll send a different Hunter. One who will do whatever it takes to secure the prisoners, regardless of who is in the way."
[long pause]
"If I didn't know any better, Vexal, I'd say that sounds an awful lot like a thinly veiled threat."
"How fortunate that you know better. Now, are we done here?"
"Find the dad. Find the girl. Don't listen to a word they say. Bring them back to the lab on Menta. I understand."
"Excellent. We have nothing further to discuss. Make good decisions out there, Kiri."
[Comm link terminated]
"So. Our Hunter has been swayed by the infallible rhetoric of a nine-year-old girl."
"It would appear so. Damn, I knew we shouldn't have send in Kiri."
"Miss Tadis is our best hunter."
"She's too sentimental. To quick to believe the lies of a cornered girl."
"Well, they're not exactly lies, Vexal."
"I suppose not. Anyway, it doesn't matter. What's our next course of action?"
"We wait. If Kiri comes to us, prisoners in hand, then we will proceed as planned. If she fails to make an appearance, well... We'll just have to find a way to convince her."
"I know a few people who are good at convincing." |
EDIT: I've really enjoyed all these replies so far! (Although I feel that a lot of you are overestimating how long a page is, and how much happens on one.) For reference: A quick google search suggest that the average is somewhere between 250 and 300 words per page for a general paperback novel. | [WP] You are a writer of Epic Fantasy/Sci-Fi (Your Choice). Provide a single, random page from the middle of your series with no additional context. | The cold bit at Terith's skin through the many layers of fur he wore. Snow clung to his hair and to his mount. Tiny flecks of ice swirled in the howling wind as if to warn him of him of the approaching blizzard. If he were lucky, they could make it to the crossroads by nightfall.
Beside him, his sister shivered and buried her hands into her gelding's mane. He felt a pang of guilt when he stared at her emaciated face. Her clothes barely fit anymore and her cough was getting worse by the minute. She looked back at him through her shaggy brown locks and weakly smiled.
"Are you well, my lady?" Terith rode closer to her.
"Oh, stop with the my lady stuff, Terith. You're my brother. Being queen doesn't mean that you lose the privilege of addressing me by my first name." She meekly chuckled, "You've knitted your brow most fiercely the past few hours, you know? What troubles you?"
"Nothing at all, my l- sister." He lied.
"Do I need to command my brother to tell me what is wrong? I know your lying, Terith. Your eyebrow twitches when you lie."
Terith sighed. He wasn't sure why he even tried lying to Ava anymore. They'd grown up together and one knew the other better than they knew themselves.
"My apologies, I cannot help but worry about you. I fear that at any moment, I will look to see you tumbling off of your horse."
The queen laughed at her brother and gestured with a withering hand to the vast white expanse around them. "This place cannot kill me. I'm much too stubborn to die, dear brother."
Before he could reply, the frail queen rode ahead to ride beside Ser Helmsworth, leaving Terith with his thoughts. It had been Ava who had been the strong one when they were children. She had been the one who had convinced them to go on "adventures" into the gardens and the cobwebbed catacombs below the castle. Terith had followed her along the twisted catacombs and delved into the towering rosebushes that served as the "magicked brambles". Then she had been so quick and full of life. Now, she looked near dead but she had not lost her will to live. She was too stubborn for that, even she had said so.
Ser Helmsworth was waving his arms in a grandiose manner making Ava chuckle. No doubt he was telling her a story about the heroes of old. Terith's children called the knight, Ser Story and would often beg him to regale them with stories of their favorite heroes.
Terith missed his children but knew that their lady mother would never allow him to bring his children along. Twice he had to pry Uther from his leg and once he had to remove him from the supply wagon. The boy might have successfully stowed away with them anyway had it not been for Ser Kinsworth escorting the boy to his mother.
A shout ahead of him brought Terith back to reality. Ser Helmsworth was barely visible through the snow and fog but Terith could make out the knight's waving gauntlet. Spurning his horse onward, he rode up next to the knight and his sister.
"The wind is picking up. I don't think we will make it to the inn and if we stay here, we'll be consumed by the snow drifts in a matter of minutes." Ser Helmsworth shouted over the roaring wind, "We need to do something now!"
"Then we must take shelter in the pine-"
"Don't be ridiculous, my lord! The pine grove is deadly!"
"If we stay out here we will die for sure. The pine grove is closer than the inn and rests behind a hill. We can take shelter there."
"My lord brother is right," Ava's frail voice somehow managed to carry, "If we stay here we die. We have a better chance of surviving in the pine grove."
"My lady, the spirits-"
"Spirits be damned, man!" Terith spat, "This is my sister and your queen. You play with not only our survival but hers as well. We go to the pine grove. Ride to the others and lead them there. I shall take my lady sister to the grove and await you."
Ser Helmsworth's mumbling was lost to the howling winds. Terith shook his head and turned back to his sister, who had began to shake. He was uncertain if she shook from the cold or the sickness but he knew she did not shake from fear. Spirits did not frighten her any more than a bear feared it's next meal.
Without a word, the queen fell in behind him and they made their way to the pine grove. Thick boughs of Dwarven Pine hung this way and that under the weight of snow but Terith knew they would not break. He commenced to fashioning a shelter out of the limbs, first for his sister and next for himself. The shelters were crude things, only a child could have stood in them without hitting their head, but they kept the elements out.
By the time Ser Helmsworth arrived with the rest of the group, Terith had already fashioned several shelters and had managed to build a fire and keep the meager flames from sputtering out. The guardsman and those who had joined on the road murmured thanks to Terith. Some of the more superstitious muttered counter curses and blessed their shelters in the name of whatever deity they served.
Terith took a seat next to the queen, who had stopped shivering since the fire had been built. The fire's light made her eyes appear more sunken than they were, filling Terith with a tingling sense of dread. If they did not reach the mountain soon, he feared that it would be too late.
"Stop worrying, Ter." Ava smiled into the fire, "Ser Helmsworth says that the forest is home to spirits. Perhaps the storm has lead them to us for a reason?"
Terith carefully considered her words. Their father had often said that the spirits often sought to assist the weary traveler, if only they would listen.
"Perchance you are right." Terith nodded, "Night will be upon us soon. That is when the spirits will show themselves, *if* they show themselves."
"Ah, the spirits. Such fickle things, no?" Faore waddled to them, "You don't fear them? A bad sort they are not?"
"No, my lady." The queen slowly shook her head, "It was they who saved our King."
"Ah, by leading you to his wounds, yes?" Faore's thick accent had grown easier to understand as of late, "Save him, your doing. Not spirits. Spirits only guide."
"Sometimes," Terith smiled, "Sometimes they do more than guide."
Ava gave Terith a befuddled glance. Faore chuckled deeply and waddled away without another word.
"I never told you about Lysna, did I?" Terith stared into the dancing flame in front of him, "About how I saved her from the Darkling?"
"You said that your lady wife had been captured by the Darkling but you would never tell me how you rescued her." Ava frowned.
Terith never pulled his gaze from the fire, as if he could see the scene unfold from within the flames.
"It is a long story," He began, "But it all starts with the day our brother left for The Withering Spire." | stopped in place, frozen at the sight before him. How many years had it been since Kard had last saw his brother? Where in their twisting and tormented history did they last bid each other farewell? *When he took my eye on the Netherplanes of Beratul Lesser*, Kard thought. The scar from Noro's saber had left a long streak across Kard's face, like the tail of a comet. He refused to get the wound mended or replace the eye. Kard wanted it to remain as a reminder of the betrayal he felt that day. Every morning when he rose, he saw the scar. Every ship captain or Stellar Regent would stare at it but divert their eyes when he noticed. Whenever Kard was lucky enough to bring some company to bed, they would stroke or kiss the scar; hoping to elicit some positive response from him by feigning indifference to his disfigurement. Kard stopped sharing his bed after long.
But what the scar reminded Kard of most was his vow of revenge. To take from his treacherous brother what was stolen from him. To make Novo beg for forgiveness, broken and beaten. Sometimes, Kard imagined giving his brother that forgiveness; making amends and flying off into battle just as it was before. Sometimes, Kard thought about denying him the satisfaction, taking Novo's eye and stranding him on some barren moon on the outskirts of the Garak system, so he could see their home shining in the sky but never be able to return. And on occasion, usually while blind drunk, Kard devised *terrible*, **dark** forms of retribution. When revisited in the morning, Kard fell back to forgiveness.
But nothing Kard imagined could prepare him for what he saw now. Roughly 5 meters above where he stood, Novo hung from an alien device, barbs and tubes puncturing his skin in a hundred places. Glowing liquid of a dozen colors flowed through him into other machines on the ship. The lights of the consoles rose and fell with his shallow, halted breathing. *He was running the ship alright*, Kard remembered what the Draian captain had told him.
Suddenly, Novos opened his eyes and caught sight of his brother. A smile slowly formed on his lips, Kard couldn't restrain himself from doing the same. The lights in the engine room rose as Novo attempted to speak. |
EDIT: I've really enjoyed all these replies so far! (Although I feel that a lot of you are overestimating how long a page is, and how much happens on one.) For reference: A quick google search suggest that the average is somewhere between 250 and 300 words per page for a general paperback novel. | [WP] You are a writer of Epic Fantasy/Sci-Fi (Your Choice). Provide a single, random page from the middle of your series with no additional context. | The cold bit at Terith's skin through the many layers of fur he wore. Snow clung to his hair and to his mount. Tiny flecks of ice swirled in the howling wind as if to warn him of him of the approaching blizzard. If he were lucky, they could make it to the crossroads by nightfall.
Beside him, his sister shivered and buried her hands into her gelding's mane. He felt a pang of guilt when he stared at her emaciated face. Her clothes barely fit anymore and her cough was getting worse by the minute. She looked back at him through her shaggy brown locks and weakly smiled.
"Are you well, my lady?" Terith rode closer to her.
"Oh, stop with the my lady stuff, Terith. You're my brother. Being queen doesn't mean that you lose the privilege of addressing me by my first name." She meekly chuckled, "You've knitted your brow most fiercely the past few hours, you know? What troubles you?"
"Nothing at all, my l- sister." He lied.
"Do I need to command my brother to tell me what is wrong? I know your lying, Terith. Your eyebrow twitches when you lie."
Terith sighed. He wasn't sure why he even tried lying to Ava anymore. They'd grown up together and one knew the other better than they knew themselves.
"My apologies, I cannot help but worry about you. I fear that at any moment, I will look to see you tumbling off of your horse."
The queen laughed at her brother and gestured with a withering hand to the vast white expanse around them. "This place cannot kill me. I'm much too stubborn to die, dear brother."
Before he could reply, the frail queen rode ahead to ride beside Ser Helmsworth, leaving Terith with his thoughts. It had been Ava who had been the strong one when they were children. She had been the one who had convinced them to go on "adventures" into the gardens and the cobwebbed catacombs below the castle. Terith had followed her along the twisted catacombs and delved into the towering rosebushes that served as the "magicked brambles". Then she had been so quick and full of life. Now, she looked near dead but she had not lost her will to live. She was too stubborn for that, even she had said so.
Ser Helmsworth was waving his arms in a grandiose manner making Ava chuckle. No doubt he was telling her a story about the heroes of old. Terith's children called the knight, Ser Story and would often beg him to regale them with stories of their favorite heroes.
Terith missed his children but knew that their lady mother would never allow him to bring his children along. Twice he had to pry Uther from his leg and once he had to remove him from the supply wagon. The boy might have successfully stowed away with them anyway had it not been for Ser Kinsworth escorting the boy to his mother.
A shout ahead of him brought Terith back to reality. Ser Helmsworth was barely visible through the snow and fog but Terith could make out the knight's waving gauntlet. Spurning his horse onward, he rode up next to the knight and his sister.
"The wind is picking up. I don't think we will make it to the inn and if we stay here, we'll be consumed by the snow drifts in a matter of minutes." Ser Helmsworth shouted over the roaring wind, "We need to do something now!"
"Then we must take shelter in the pine-"
"Don't be ridiculous, my lord! The pine grove is deadly!"
"If we stay out here we will die for sure. The pine grove is closer than the inn and rests behind a hill. We can take shelter there."
"My lord brother is right," Ava's frail voice somehow managed to carry, "If we stay here we die. We have a better chance of surviving in the pine grove."
"My lady, the spirits-"
"Spirits be damned, man!" Terith spat, "This is my sister and your queen. You play with not only our survival but hers as well. We go to the pine grove. Ride to the others and lead them there. I shall take my lady sister to the grove and await you."
Ser Helmsworth's mumbling was lost to the howling winds. Terith shook his head and turned back to his sister, who had began to shake. He was uncertain if she shook from the cold or the sickness but he knew she did not shake from fear. Spirits did not frighten her any more than a bear feared it's next meal.
Without a word, the queen fell in behind him and they made their way to the pine grove. Thick boughs of Dwarven Pine hung this way and that under the weight of snow but Terith knew they would not break. He commenced to fashioning a shelter out of the limbs, first for his sister and next for himself. The shelters were crude things, only a child could have stood in them without hitting their head, but they kept the elements out.
By the time Ser Helmsworth arrived with the rest of the group, Terith had already fashioned several shelters and had managed to build a fire and keep the meager flames from sputtering out. The guardsman and those who had joined on the road murmured thanks to Terith. Some of the more superstitious muttered counter curses and blessed their shelters in the name of whatever deity they served.
Terith took a seat next to the queen, who had stopped shivering since the fire had been built. The fire's light made her eyes appear more sunken than they were, filling Terith with a tingling sense of dread. If they did not reach the mountain soon, he feared that it would be too late.
"Stop worrying, Ter." Ava smiled into the fire, "Ser Helmsworth says that the forest is home to spirits. Perhaps the storm has lead them to us for a reason?"
Terith carefully considered her words. Their father had often said that the spirits often sought to assist the weary traveler, if only they would listen.
"Perchance you are right." Terith nodded, "Night will be upon us soon. That is when the spirits will show themselves, *if* they show themselves."
"Ah, the spirits. Such fickle things, no?" Faore waddled to them, "You don't fear them? A bad sort they are not?"
"No, my lady." The queen slowly shook her head, "It was they who saved our King."
"Ah, by leading you to his wounds, yes?" Faore's thick accent had grown easier to understand as of late, "Save him, your doing. Not spirits. Spirits only guide."
"Sometimes," Terith smiled, "Sometimes they do more than guide."
Ava gave Terith a befuddled glance. Faore chuckled deeply and waddled away without another word.
"I never told you about Lysna, did I?" Terith stared into the dancing flame in front of him, "About how I saved her from the Darkling?"
"You said that your lady wife had been captured by the Darkling but you would never tell me how you rescued her." Ava frowned.
Terith never pulled his gaze from the fire, as if he could see the scene unfold from within the flames.
"It is a long story," He began, "But it all starts with the day our brother left for The Withering Spire." | Behind the fort on the cliffs above Parvell lay a garden, at the center of which was an enormous oak. How long the tree had stood there, weathering the storms from off the ocean, nobody knew. It had been there before the fort was built, and it's gnarled limbs reached skyward to the gods. In later days, the keep and castle would eventually surround this ancient tree, but it was left room to grow, room to breath, always. When Rimert Draytan first stood atop the cliffs and beheld the oak, he was silent a long moment. His architect hurried to explain that removing the tree would prevent no problem whatsoever.
Rimert turned to the man and raised his voice so that all could hear. "This tree, this Oak that stands so firmly here, has precedence to us. What is man, before such a mighty tree? I will not allow it to be removed." The architect bowed, for Lord Drayton was a man of learning and known to be unmovable in his decisions. Firm and fair, always, that was Rimert Draytan. Then Draytan turned to the tree once more, and stepped closer, placing one hand upon it and raising his face to the limbs and sky above. "let every man witness it, and let the gods witness it as well. Karani, Protector of Innocents; Oshana, Lord of Justice; Vath the Smith; Thida, Lady of Truth; and Lethan, Patron of Trade; Witness here my words: I am Rimert Draytan. I pledge my life in service to this place. To the people, and the land itself I pledge my strength, my judgment and my honor.
Legend says the sky split once with a bolt of lightening, but hat may only be the fevered imagination of the bards.
What is true is that the Oak became known from that instant onward as the Witness Tree. When anyone desired an unshakable oath, he went before the Witness Tree. Not everone, not every time, but soon marriages, namings, trade agreements, all were sworn to in the presence of the Witness Tree. As the country grew and spread, so too did the tradition. Soon every small town had a tender oak sprouting in its square, tended by the local priests. The common belief was that without the Witness Tree, it wasn't binding. Nobody knew if the other trees were blessed by the gods as the original seemed to be, but what was certain was that they never seemed to sicken, no root rot, no mistletoe high on dead branches. A Witness Tree never fell. Dretania became a land that was ruled by a man wise and just, and where an oath to the gods was something sacred again. |
EDIT: I've really enjoyed all these replies so far! (Although I feel that a lot of you are overestimating how long a page is, and how much happens on one.) For reference: A quick google search suggest that the average is somewhere between 250 and 300 words per page for a general paperback novel. | [WP] You are a writer of Epic Fantasy/Sci-Fi (Your Choice). Provide a single, random page from the middle of your series with no additional context. | Jason lay on the floor with one hand across his bleeding chest. He was dying. He always knew that one day someone would finally end his eternal misery, but he never thought it would be so...simple. It was a stray arrow carved of the holy dragon wood tree that did it. He lay on the floor gasping for breath when he saw his prisoner running from him. He pointed his free and un-bloodied hand towards him and shouted "Letvara shkaultre!" The man instantly teleported before him still running and Jason caught him by the ankle before he could get any further.
His prisoners name was Letvya and when Jason's hand wrapped around Letvya's ankle she fell hard on the ground. *Good*, he thought, *I'll savor my final kill.* So he let his other hand free of his bleeding chest and grabbed the enchanted green dagger from his waist. It's name was Iplan and allowed for every cut to be magnified in pain a hundred fold. Very few could wield such a weapon for even the most calloused heart would feel pity for the victim, but Jason could bear the burden easily and with a crazed smile on his face he slowly dug his knife into Letvya and heard her scream with joy. She deserves this he told himself. she deserves all this and so much more. He worked Iplan through her flesh like a butcher might work a slaughtered pig. Warm blood splattered across his face and onto his chest. Some of the blood feel into his wound replacing the blood he was loosing while the rest watered the surrounding grass. Eventually, he could feel the life drawing faster away from him so he plunged the dagger expertly into her abdomen ensuring more pain and suffering as well as a slow death. "Letvara shkaultre!"He yelled sending the screaming bitch far from him so that he might have a moments peace as he died.
He shut his eyes as the cold encroached his body and heard stumbling before him. It was Tesalna with her pale skin, lithe body and golden brown hair that drooped just past her shoulders. She was in tears when she saw Jason and ran up to him and crumpled onto him weeping profusely. "Jason! Jason!" She screamed. "Why are you doing this to me!"
She was beautiful Jason thought for the hundredth time. She was as precious as a jem and as kind as a sparrow. She was the love of his life he admitted to himself for the first time. "Please leave me." he said with a voice full of scorn but lacking the power for it to be given truem meaning.
Instead she lay weeping before him he head buried into his bloodied chest. "Please don't leave me!" She pleaded earnestly.
"I must. I am a sick and decrepit man in this eternal cocoon. Many will rejoice at my death and it is only fitting that they do," he said with a hint of melancholy in his voice. "I have tarnished the dragon born name since my inception and it is fitting I die such a humiliating death."
"No, no, no!" she weeped lifting her head. Jason could see that her comely face and soft hair was now caked in his vile blood. "You have done too much good to still speak so cruelly ab out yourself. I have seen you reformed. I have seen you selfishly branded with the scars of those who would have entire races enslaved and civilizations razed to the ground. You free women from their slave traders and you punish those would have children killed. I have seen it all and know that you are not the man you once were."
Jason snickered at that, *The dumb fool thinks me a saint. No I am the devil of mankind. The saint you see is the mere reflection of yourself.* "I killed Letvya...I butchered her and left her to die slowly and painfully far away from anyone who might help her." He spat out at her. She looked taken aback and that gave him some small joy. "I am the man I have always been and you were too blind to see it you wretch! Now leave me. I wish to die among all my dearest friends!" He joked with malice.
He wanted her to go. He wanted her to see how vile he was. How unworthy he truly was compared to her. He loved her since she joined him but would never soil such an innocent and pure soul. "Never," she whispered in a voice so full of love it was palpable.
He scowled at her with sever malice and with as much hatred as he could muster he sneered, "Loath me."
Her face was kind as ever and she knelt down, unafraid of him, and with a soft whisper said, "Never." With that she kissed him gently on the lips and Jason died as he never thought he would die. He died loved and he died a hero. | The message said that Fleet were being bastards again. Carlos motioned for the others to take a knee. They gathered in a circle.
"Okay, so basically what I've got here is that Fleet's going to be launching kinetic harpoons into the hive in about five minutes." He checked his map again - flashing icons illustrated the expected blast radius. "This is not going to be easy."
"They know we're here, what possessed them to launch now?" Vincent clearly understood the implications of what Carlos was saying. The others were too fresh out of training to know what was plain as day to anyone who had seen orbital rain.
"Honestly, I suspect they don't want us to get all the glory."
Ahead, the massive earthen construction was illuminated by the setting sun. There was a deep heaving sound, the sound of a million creatures labouring in near-perfect unison. it always chilled Carlos to hear that. It reminded him what they were up against. Foxton Hill was one of their key strategic nurseries and the Mandibles there numbered in the millions. Intelligence estimated the nursery's output at over 100,000 soldier drones each week. The construction was almost entirely self-sufficient - it was sited on a vein of iron ore, which was extracted and then eaten by the miners who secreted it as something that was edible to the larvae. God only knew how the chemistry of that made any sense.
"That's fucked." Vincent asserted.
"So what does that mean for us?" One of the replacements. Carlos still hadn't had time to learn his name. Christ, he looked like was barely out of high school. Probably wasn't - manpower wasn't as plentiful as it had been when the conflict started.
"That means we're going to dig in. We're going to work in pairs and we're going to dig as deep as we can. Two to a foxhole. Vincent, you're with me. And don't let me catch any of you slacking - you're going to be grateful for every inch you manage to get in."
That got their attention. Looking at their faces, Carlos wanted to be the big brother and give them comfort, but comfort wasn't what they needed if they were going to get through this in one piece.
15,000 men were in orbit over the continent. Most of them were aboard destroyers, in crews of 20. As the night sky began to darken, Carlos could just make them out - weak stars forming a near perfect circle. At the centre of the circle, the bright star, was the Juggernaut. A massive weapons platform with a pair of thrusters bolted onto the back. He'd been aboard one before, and could imagine what it was like inside as its crew readied for the bombardment.
"Okay. Any questions? Good. Now dig." |
EDIT: I've really enjoyed all these replies so far! (Although I feel that a lot of you are overestimating how long a page is, and how much happens on one.) For reference: A quick google search suggest that the average is somewhere between 250 and 300 words per page for a general paperback novel. | [WP] You are a writer of Epic Fantasy/Sci-Fi (Your Choice). Provide a single, random page from the middle of your series with no additional context. | Crygor's hand was now at best perplexing, and at worst headache inducing. Thanks to a paradox resolution with an alternate dimension counterpart, it was now partially robotic, but the paradox's resolution meant that blood flowed to his pinky and ring finger, the two fingers on his hand that still looked like regular human fingers.
The issue was of course that this still somehow made sense even with the hand now being fully detachable, and interchangable with any number of alternate hands that Crygor's counterpart had on board his ship. It baffled most people the rest of the group.
Until a few weeks ago Crygor was just a run of the mill sailor. If you told him he would've saved the world he'd've laughed in your face and told you to swap to a weaker ale. Yet here he was now, onboard a space station, accompanied by an eccentric group of rogues, theives, and oddballs who had helped him save the world. Ignoring the paradox inducing hand, Crygor was the most normal.
But there were bigger things to think of, primarily "what now?" Of the group of people he was associating with, none had ever been into space, and even fewer had any idea how to escape the craft before it's impending destruction.
"Suggest immediate evacuation," Ibos cried out in his usual monotone.
"Yeah," Helena replied, "we're trying. It's not that easy though. Pots, you got any ideas?"
Pots shrugged, "This isn't even possible on my world, whatever dimension Crygor's alternate dimension counterpart was from, it's way more advanced than mine."
"Thanks," Helena replied, "That's real helpful."
"Guys," Crygor said, "We can argue later. Right now we need off this thing. Ibos, can you do something computery to find the exit?"
"Affirmative. Processing."
The five humans and the lizard waited patiently. They knew they were against the clock, but had no other choice. It was either wait two minutes, or go the wrong way for two minutes and have to retrace their steps. Right now they were at the centre of the space station, and thus the short wait was preferable.
"Schematic downloaded. Follow me." The robot declared calmly. Of the group, he was the only one who was calm, even Safeen was beginning to show signs of stress.
The robot navigated them through twisty corridors, the most direct routes had all suffered massive damage thanks to the commanders suicidal attack patterns. Across buckled walkways and through expansive rooms the party travelled, navigating both old security procedures, and new problems caused by the stress and strain. With the clock ticking the group went as far as they could.
It took a full three minutes to get to the escape pod bay. The entire team hadn't encountered any enemy resistance since the alarm started beeping. Safeen had made clear, they would be escaping, but she had omitted something important in all this, chances were that their wouldn't be an escape pod left.
Sure enough, she was right. The last pod had been jettisoned twenty seconds ago, much to the groups dismay.
"So what do we do now?" Kat asked.
"I've got an idea," Benton said, "But I don't think any of you are going to like it." | The message said that Fleet were being bastards again. Carlos motioned for the others to take a knee. They gathered in a circle.
"Okay, so basically what I've got here is that Fleet's going to be launching kinetic harpoons into the hive in about five minutes." He checked his map again - flashing icons illustrated the expected blast radius. "This is not going to be easy."
"They know we're here, what possessed them to launch now?" Vincent clearly understood the implications of what Carlos was saying. The others were too fresh out of training to know what was plain as day to anyone who had seen orbital rain.
"Honestly, I suspect they don't want us to get all the glory."
Ahead, the massive earthen construction was illuminated by the setting sun. There was a deep heaving sound, the sound of a million creatures labouring in near-perfect unison. it always chilled Carlos to hear that. It reminded him what they were up against. Foxton Hill was one of their key strategic nurseries and the Mandibles there numbered in the millions. Intelligence estimated the nursery's output at over 100,000 soldier drones each week. The construction was almost entirely self-sufficient - it was sited on a vein of iron ore, which was extracted and then eaten by the miners who secreted it as something that was edible to the larvae. God only knew how the chemistry of that made any sense.
"That's fucked." Vincent asserted.
"So what does that mean for us?" One of the replacements. Carlos still hadn't had time to learn his name. Christ, he looked like was barely out of high school. Probably wasn't - manpower wasn't as plentiful as it had been when the conflict started.
"That means we're going to dig in. We're going to work in pairs and we're going to dig as deep as we can. Two to a foxhole. Vincent, you're with me. And don't let me catch any of you slacking - you're going to be grateful for every inch you manage to get in."
That got their attention. Looking at their faces, Carlos wanted to be the big brother and give them comfort, but comfort wasn't what they needed if they were going to get through this in one piece.
15,000 men were in orbit over the continent. Most of them were aboard destroyers, in crews of 20. As the night sky began to darken, Carlos could just make them out - weak stars forming a near perfect circle. At the centre of the circle, the bright star, was the Juggernaut. A massive weapons platform with a pair of thrusters bolted onto the back. He'd been aboard one before, and could imagine what it was like inside as its crew readied for the bombardment.
"Okay. Any questions? Good. Now dig." |
EDIT: I've really enjoyed all these replies so far! (Although I feel that a lot of you are overestimating how long a page is, and how much happens on one.) For reference: A quick google search suggest that the average is somewhere between 250 and 300 words per page for a general paperback novel. | [WP] You are a writer of Epic Fantasy/Sci-Fi (Your Choice). Provide a single, random page from the middle of your series with no additional context. | between them. It was close, unbelievably close. The skin on the palm of his hand blistered but he still he moved forward. Opposite him, this mountain of heat and stench lay unmoving, but curious now. He couldn't remember the last time a human had the audacity to approach him. Why he'd not hesitated as the heat curled the skin of his hand was beyond the dragon. The gap closed between the human's hand and his nostril. The dragon's warning growl rolled past his teeth and rattled the pebbles at the human's feet.
"Well this is curious indeed." Said Marcus. "I can only imagine that I've finally found what I am looking for." He chuckled as if enjoying a joke that only he understood. The dragon peered down at the tiny human and noticed the man's milky-white pupils. Still Marcus' hand rested on the dragon's nostril. He dug his fingers in and tried picking at one of the dragon's amber scales. The man's skin cracked and bled and yet he seemed unhurt by the heat.
"I have a request of you dragon." Marcus said.
"You may not make requests of me."
"I am dying." Marcus said, choosing to ignore the dragon's response. "I have very little time left. The gods have taken my family, taken my senses, and are now taking what is left. I can feel it in my bones, sapping what strength I have left. There is no one left that I care about. Before I go, I would leave an impression on those who rejected me. I would get my revenge on those who tossed me aside like so much trash."
The dragon, his curiosity now piqued, coiled his serpentine neck and spit a small plume of smoke into the air. The man retracted his arm. Blood and pus dripped down his arm to pool around the man's feet. He didn't seem bothered by the pain at all.
"What would you have me do?" He asked. If the human wanted to be eaten, he would gladly comply.
"I want to ride you into battle." The dragon hissed his displeasure.
"Why would you choose to fight for those who threw you away?" The dragon asked. The man's face twisted into a broken smile.
"Oh I'm not fighting for them." He seethed. "Not for them. I want to fight against them. I want them to know the despair I felt. Every door that was shut in my face needs to be reduced to ashes. I want to hear the screams of dying men. I want to bask in the panic and fear. I want to die knowing that I will never be forgotten. I want them to look up and see me lit in fire and death and know that I will be the last thing they see before death takes them. Every man who ignored my cry for help needs to understand this pain." His fingers crackled as he made fists and the dragon looked on with pride as the man began peeling his skin off.
"If I am to do this for you. Several things must be done." The dragon said. Marcus stuttered for a moment before recollecting himself. He hadn't expected the dragon to comply so easily. "What do you mean?"
"I will go with you to this end." Said the dragon. "But this will not be your end. You will live long enough for my hunger to be satiated. And then, when I am content, you may die." | The message said that Fleet were being bastards again. Carlos motioned for the others to take a knee. They gathered in a circle.
"Okay, so basically what I've got here is that Fleet's going to be launching kinetic harpoons into the hive in about five minutes." He checked his map again - flashing icons illustrated the expected blast radius. "This is not going to be easy."
"They know we're here, what possessed them to launch now?" Vincent clearly understood the implications of what Carlos was saying. The others were too fresh out of training to know what was plain as day to anyone who had seen orbital rain.
"Honestly, I suspect they don't want us to get all the glory."
Ahead, the massive earthen construction was illuminated by the setting sun. There was a deep heaving sound, the sound of a million creatures labouring in near-perfect unison. it always chilled Carlos to hear that. It reminded him what they were up against. Foxton Hill was one of their key strategic nurseries and the Mandibles there numbered in the millions. Intelligence estimated the nursery's output at over 100,000 soldier drones each week. The construction was almost entirely self-sufficient - it was sited on a vein of iron ore, which was extracted and then eaten by the miners who secreted it as something that was edible to the larvae. God only knew how the chemistry of that made any sense.
"That's fucked." Vincent asserted.
"So what does that mean for us?" One of the replacements. Carlos still hadn't had time to learn his name. Christ, he looked like was barely out of high school. Probably wasn't - manpower wasn't as plentiful as it had been when the conflict started.
"That means we're going to dig in. We're going to work in pairs and we're going to dig as deep as we can. Two to a foxhole. Vincent, you're with me. And don't let me catch any of you slacking - you're going to be grateful for every inch you manage to get in."
That got their attention. Looking at their faces, Carlos wanted to be the big brother and give them comfort, but comfort wasn't what they needed if they were going to get through this in one piece.
15,000 men were in orbit over the continent. Most of them were aboard destroyers, in crews of 20. As the night sky began to darken, Carlos could just make them out - weak stars forming a near perfect circle. At the centre of the circle, the bright star, was the Juggernaut. A massive weapons platform with a pair of thrusters bolted onto the back. He'd been aboard one before, and could imagine what it was like inside as its crew readied for the bombardment.
"Okay. Any questions? Good. Now dig." |
EDIT: I've really enjoyed all these replies so far! (Although I feel that a lot of you are overestimating how long a page is, and how much happens on one.) For reference: A quick google search suggest that the average is somewhere between 250 and 300 words per page for a general paperback novel. | [WP] You are a writer of Epic Fantasy/Sci-Fi (Your Choice). Provide a single, random page from the middle of your series with no additional context. | between them. It was close, unbelievably close. The skin on the palm of his hand blistered but he still he moved forward. Opposite him, this mountain of heat and stench lay unmoving, but curious now. He couldn't remember the last time a human had the audacity to approach him. Why he'd not hesitated as the heat curled the skin of his hand was beyond the dragon. The gap closed between the human's hand and his nostril. The dragon's warning growl rolled past his teeth and rattled the pebbles at the human's feet.
"Well this is curious indeed." Said Marcus. "I can only imagine that I've finally found what I am looking for." He chuckled as if enjoying a joke that only he understood. The dragon peered down at the tiny human and noticed the man's milky-white pupils. Still Marcus' hand rested on the dragon's nostril. He dug his fingers in and tried picking at one of the dragon's amber scales. The man's skin cracked and bled and yet he seemed unhurt by the heat.
"I have a request of you dragon." Marcus said.
"You may not make requests of me."
"I am dying." Marcus said, choosing to ignore the dragon's response. "I have very little time left. The gods have taken my family, taken my senses, and are now taking what is left. I can feel it in my bones, sapping what strength I have left. There is no one left that I care about. Before I go, I would leave an impression on those who rejected me. I would get my revenge on those who tossed me aside like so much trash."
The dragon, his curiosity now piqued, coiled his serpentine neck and spit a small plume of smoke into the air. The man retracted his arm. Blood and pus dripped down his arm to pool around the man's feet. He didn't seem bothered by the pain at all.
"What would you have me do?" He asked. If the human wanted to be eaten, he would gladly comply.
"I want to ride you into battle." The dragon hissed his displeasure.
"Why would you choose to fight for those who threw you away?" The dragon asked. The man's face twisted into a broken smile.
"Oh I'm not fighting for them." He seethed. "Not for them. I want to fight against them. I want them to know the despair I felt. Every door that was shut in my face needs to be reduced to ashes. I want to hear the screams of dying men. I want to bask in the panic and fear. I want to die knowing that I will never be forgotten. I want them to look up and see me lit in fire and death and know that I will be the last thing they see before death takes them. Every man who ignored my cry for help needs to understand this pain." His fingers crackled as he made fists and the dragon looked on with pride as the man began peeling his skin off.
"If I am to do this for you. Several things must be done." The dragon said. Marcus stuttered for a moment before recollecting himself. He hadn't expected the dragon to comply so easily. "What do you mean?"
"I will go with you to this end." Said the dragon. "But this will not be your end. You will live long enough for my hunger to be satiated. And then, when I am content, you may die." | Jason lay on the floor with one hand across his bleeding chest. He was dying. He always knew that one day someone would finally end his eternal misery, but he never thought it would be so...simple. It was a stray arrow carved of the holy dragon wood tree that did it. He lay on the floor gasping for breath when he saw his prisoner running from him. He pointed his free and un-bloodied hand towards him and shouted "Letvara shkaultre!" The man instantly teleported before him still running and Jason caught him by the ankle before he could get any further.
His prisoners name was Letvya and when Jason's hand wrapped around Letvya's ankle she fell hard on the ground. *Good*, he thought, *I'll savor my final kill.* So he let his other hand free of his bleeding chest and grabbed the enchanted green dagger from his waist. It's name was Iplan and allowed for every cut to be magnified in pain a hundred fold. Very few could wield such a weapon for even the most calloused heart would feel pity for the victim, but Jason could bear the burden easily and with a crazed smile on his face he slowly dug his knife into Letvya and heard her scream with joy. She deserves this he told himself. she deserves all this and so much more. He worked Iplan through her flesh like a butcher might work a slaughtered pig. Warm blood splattered across his face and onto his chest. Some of the blood feel into his wound replacing the blood he was loosing while the rest watered the surrounding grass. Eventually, he could feel the life drawing faster away from him so he plunged the dagger expertly into her abdomen ensuring more pain and suffering as well as a slow death. "Letvara shkaultre!"He yelled sending the screaming bitch far from him so that he might have a moments peace as he died.
He shut his eyes as the cold encroached his body and heard stumbling before him. It was Tesalna with her pale skin, lithe body and golden brown hair that drooped just past her shoulders. She was in tears when she saw Jason and ran up to him and crumpled onto him weeping profusely. "Jason! Jason!" She screamed. "Why are you doing this to me!"
She was beautiful Jason thought for the hundredth time. She was as precious as a jem and as kind as a sparrow. She was the love of his life he admitted to himself for the first time. "Please leave me." he said with a voice full of scorn but lacking the power for it to be given truem meaning.
Instead she lay weeping before him he head buried into his bloodied chest. "Please don't leave me!" She pleaded earnestly.
"I must. I am a sick and decrepit man in this eternal cocoon. Many will rejoice at my death and it is only fitting that they do," he said with a hint of melancholy in his voice. "I have tarnished the dragon born name since my inception and it is fitting I die such a humiliating death."
"No, no, no!" she weeped lifting her head. Jason could see that her comely face and soft hair was now caked in his vile blood. "You have done too much good to still speak so cruelly ab out yourself. I have seen you reformed. I have seen you selfishly branded with the scars of those who would have entire races enslaved and civilizations razed to the ground. You free women from their slave traders and you punish those would have children killed. I have seen it all and know that you are not the man you once were."
Jason snickered at that, *The dumb fool thinks me a saint. No I am the devil of mankind. The saint you see is the mere reflection of yourself.* "I killed Letvya...I butchered her and left her to die slowly and painfully far away from anyone who might help her." He spat out at her. She looked taken aback and that gave him some small joy. "I am the man I have always been and you were too blind to see it you wretch! Now leave me. I wish to die among all my dearest friends!" He joked with malice.
He wanted her to go. He wanted her to see how vile he was. How unworthy he truly was compared to her. He loved her since she joined him but would never soil such an innocent and pure soul. "Never," she whispered in a voice so full of love it was palpable.
He scowled at her with sever malice and with as much hatred as he could muster he sneered, "Loath me."
Her face was kind as ever and she knelt down, unafraid of him, and with a soft whisper said, "Never." With that she kissed him gently on the lips and Jason died as he never thought he would die. He died loved and he died a hero. |
[WP] The main protagonist is fully aware of being the main protagonist and knows that, no matter what he does, he won't die during the story. | I tear the steering wheel hard into the oncoming lane of traffic. My body lurches nearly out of the seat. Ah, right. Seatbelt. I straighten the vehicle's trajectory and fasten my seatbelt. I turn to the front passenger seat. My passenger turns to me shakily, wearing an expression that is some unsettling blend of nauseated and enraged.
“What's that look for?” I intentionally keep my eyes off of the road for far too long. Horns blare, cars swerve out of the way. Just as expected.
“LOOK AT THE ROAD, YOU MANIAC!!” She grabs the wheel and pulls it hard to the right. The van thumps and bumps as it meets the curb and traverses the grass that now divides the two sections of road. The oncoming lane was actually an off-ramp, leading down from a highway that passes over the lane we'd been in before. So there's a height differential. We fall a short distance to the correct side of the road, hitting it hard and with a spray of sparks. The front right hubcap is a casualty. I watch it roll away from us in the rearview mirror. I recenter my attention on the interfering companion in the neighboring seat.
“Damn it, Fred! This lane has cops! You know how cops get about my driving!”
“Well maybe if you would DRIVE LIKE A PERSON, maybe they'd stop chasing us!”
“Well maybe if you hadn't stolen all of that money, they wouldn't be chasing!”
“YOU STOLE THE MONEY, YOU DICK!”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot... Well hey, you tagged along!” Fred stops trying to retort and throws her hands up in exhaustion, sighing an indeterminate swear word. The cops have blocked the road ahead. The ones behind have stopped following so closely, but the other cars, the blacked-out imports, those have kept pace. So much for the enemy of my enemy being my friend.
I squeeze the gas pedal closer to the floor.
“Jaaaack...” Fred tenses up in the seat, pressing against it and raising up slightly.
“Sshh...” I ignore her and try to hide my slight grin as I accelerate a bit more.
“...JAAAAAACK...” She's pushing up in the seat like there's a spider on the floor now.
“SSHH!”
“JACK! WHAT ARE YOU--” Fred's admonishing is cut off by the bursting of the tires. Oh right. Spike strips. I guess not all of this works like the movies. The metal of the wheels grinds against the asphalt as we continue to careen towards the line of cops cars. The cops have mostly abandoned them.
I aim straight ahead and push the accelerator against the floor.
Even if I had a cool one-liner, Fred's screaming and the assorted bad car sounds would drown it out. We smash through the line of cop cars in a spectacular display, probably. From my vantage point, it's mostly terrifying and shaky. But bystanders, man. They probably got a hell of a show.
The van is losing speed pretty quickly, but the disaster behind us has slowed our pursuers even more. I pull off the road into a department store parking lot, finally sliding to a halt between two big rig trailers parked near the loading dock.
I hold my hands up as if to say “Ta da!” and Fred hits me with her messenger bag.
“Ow, hey! Quit that!” I grab the bag. She weakly lets go and turns away from me. Reasonable. I didn't explain any of this to her before the heist. Which I tricked her into helping me with.
“Fred, listen...” I reach a hand towards her cautiously, but stop.
“I don't want to listen to YOU.” She turns towards me just slightly at the last word, spitting it viciously through a lone curl that had fallen from her headband during the chase. She follows this up by blowing the renegade strand of hair from her face and pushing the glasses up her nose.
“Okay. Well, I'm gonna talk anyway. And it won't make much sense at first. But if you decide to start listening, maybe it'll start to make some sense.” She relaxes slightly, her curiosity betraying her righteously soured mood.
I take a deep breath and begin to say words that are not my own.
“I'm the main character in a story. The only reason we are here right now is because we are being written as such. I cannot be killed in this story, as it is based on a writing prompt that specifies that I know that I am the unkillable main character. The prompt doesn't specify how safe you are, but the writer likes you better and therefore has no plans to kill you off. If you don't believe me, which you shouldn't, because this sounds like pure madness, I can prove it. There was a thing that happened at your sixth birthday party that you haven't ever told a single soul, where you--”
“How... How could you know that? About my birthday?” Fred has turned towards me fully, looking more frightened and confused than she had during the police chase.
“I don't know it, Fred. The writer doesn't even know it. He just needed me to say the beginning of a dark secret from your past that only you could know, something to lend plausibility to your inevitable belief in my ridiculous assertion. Fred... Do you even know the secret I started to say just now?” She furrowed her brow.
“...No. No, I don't. But... How is this... I mean...”
“I don't know. But there it is. We're fictional. And I can't be killed. That's why we did the bank thing. Because I thought it would be fun. But this scene here, it's getting really metatextual and it's honestly kind of freaking me out. I feel like we're being watched. I feel like a puppet. Fred, I don't even know my last name. We don't have families or friends, because we haven't had them written for us. If we'd been written into a screenplay or a novel, maybe we'd have fuller lives. But this... We're a short story, and kind of a hacky one at that. Maybe we can't die, but how can we live? We're not even going to get a full three pages here. We got the big action sequence, and maybe that'll get expanded in revisions, but then what? He's not going to use us again. He hasn't even described what we look like, except that you wear glasses and have a strand of curly hair long enough to hang in front of your face. We're stories, but who are we? Where do we go when the story is over? We live this loop, again and again, never escaping the car chase or the navel-gazing commentary on the fictionality of our own lives.”
“But there's one way we can die, Jack.”
“Yeah? And what's that?”
“Say the words.”
“What words?”
“The end.” | It was like the legends we always hear about. They start off in a small village and the hero is a humble farmer, trying to make a living. Then a suddenly a call to action. A kidnapped princess, and a heroic rebellion. Just like the legends.
When my lord calls for my hand I respond. I am proud to fight alongside my brothers and countrymen. I knew I was destined for something greater all along.
The Mad King will be cast down, executed for his crimes against his own people. We will rescue Lady Lyanna for Lord Robert. I will return home a hero, all will know of Erik, the Hero of Ashford! |
|
[WP] The main protagonist is fully aware of being the main protagonist and knows that, no matter what he does, he won't die during the story. | Jane's Beige-suited psychiatrist took off his glasses and rubbed his bloodshot eyes.
"Look its understandable that you've been a bit freaked out by all these gory murders. But you have to realise that what you're telling me is completely insane."
"No what i'm telling you is the truth. This is all a story and i'm the main character so I cant die."
"Jane there are a lot of self help books that talk about life as one long story. Maybe you just got confus..... Jane where are you going?"
Unwilling to listen Jane had clamberd up from the couch and stood to face a nearby window.
"Well doctor if you wont take my word for it i'll just have to show you. If I were to jump out of this window would I die?"
"Well yes of course we're on the fifth floor."
Jane sprinted to the window and before the doctor could stop her she lept through the air, smashing through the glass.
The Doctor panicked and leapt to the window. On the street far below he could just make out the faint red smear of Jane's broken body.
As he stared down tears began to stream down his face.
"I'm sorry Jane"
The moment those words left left his lips his vision began to blur.
Slowly a blackness began to creep into the edges of his vision. He began to panic as the darkness devoured more and more of his field of vision. He tried frantically to wipe his eyes but it did no good.
As his sight finally faded to black words in large white letters filled his vision.
THE END
A very strange suicide
Directed by Melvin Blake
Teleplay by Edward Blackthorn
Characters in order of first
appearence
Jane Anna Skelton
DR Lewis Martin Bradley
| "Yeah so, we doing this or what?"
He stood at the top of Mount Everest, his short, dark brown hair blowing into his face. His fists rested upon his hips, he had so much confidence you would think he owned the world from how he looked down at the clouds which covered view of the land.
"Why would we do *that?*" She said. On each hand she had only two fingers up and they were on her temples, continuously going in circles. "We made it to the top, let's just go down." She tried to convince him.
"We can, if you'd just jump down with me." He pushed.
"Sorry, but I don't want to die." She declined his idea once again.
"Don't worry about dying, as long as you're with me, you wont. *She* wouldn't let that happen to us." He laughed.
He moved from his position at the edge of the mountain, to beside his girlfriend. He plopped down next to her on their campsite, taking some air from the tank.
"Who's *she?*" His girlfriend's voice had curiosity and a little *jealousy* in it.
"The person writing our story." He said, losing interest in the conversation. He stood up and walked over to a small black rock and kicked it off the mountain, listening for a sound that never came.
"Wow, you sure are full of it, aren't ya?" She said. She looked blankly at him, watching how his hair blew in the wind, when it did you could see the beauty mark he hid beneath his bangs.
He had enough of the conversation and grabbed her hand which was being warmed in a black mitten. Her pink and gray Northface jacket rustled as it hit his black one lightly.
"What are you doing?" She shouted.
"Jumping."
They fell, her grip on his hand tightened and kept getting tighter and tighter as she screamed and he laughed. The pressure of the air did not affect them at all.
*We should be dead.* She thought and stopped screaming.
"I told you." He mouthed.
Soon they began to get closer to the bottom, only an arm's length away. they crashed into the ground.
"Ow." He said, rubbing his bleeding head. "Even though I can't die, I can still get seriously hurt, huh?" He asked the author.
He turned his head to his girlfriend who was...*knocked out?*
"Hey." He said, pinching her cheeks. "Hello, wake up. Why isn't she waking up?" He questioned the author again.
Even though he couldn't see it, the author smirked and laughed manically as she typed the words; He screamed and shouted for her to wake up, but it was over and she was dead. He was invincible as the main protagonist, but she wasn't. |
|
[WP] The main protagonist is fully aware of being the main protagonist and knows that, no matter what he does, he won't die during the story. | I tear the steering wheel hard into the oncoming lane of traffic. My body lurches nearly out of the seat. Ah, right. Seatbelt. I straighten the vehicle's trajectory and fasten my seatbelt. I turn to the front passenger seat. My passenger turns to me shakily, wearing an expression that is some unsettling blend of nauseated and enraged.
“What's that look for?” I intentionally keep my eyes off of the road for far too long. Horns blare, cars swerve out of the way. Just as expected.
“LOOK AT THE ROAD, YOU MANIAC!!” She grabs the wheel and pulls it hard to the right. The van thumps and bumps as it meets the curb and traverses the grass that now divides the two sections of road. The oncoming lane was actually an off-ramp, leading down from a highway that passes over the lane we'd been in before. So there's a height differential. We fall a short distance to the correct side of the road, hitting it hard and with a spray of sparks. The front right hubcap is a casualty. I watch it roll away from us in the rearview mirror. I recenter my attention on the interfering companion in the neighboring seat.
“Damn it, Fred! This lane has cops! You know how cops get about my driving!”
“Well maybe if you would DRIVE LIKE A PERSON, maybe they'd stop chasing us!”
“Well maybe if you hadn't stolen all of that money, they wouldn't be chasing!”
“YOU STOLE THE MONEY, YOU DICK!”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot... Well hey, you tagged along!” Fred stops trying to retort and throws her hands up in exhaustion, sighing an indeterminate swear word. The cops have blocked the road ahead. The ones behind have stopped following so closely, but the other cars, the blacked-out imports, those have kept pace. So much for the enemy of my enemy being my friend.
I squeeze the gas pedal closer to the floor.
“Jaaaack...” Fred tenses up in the seat, pressing against it and raising up slightly.
“Sshh...” I ignore her and try to hide my slight grin as I accelerate a bit more.
“...JAAAAAACK...” She's pushing up in the seat like there's a spider on the floor now.
“SSHH!”
“JACK! WHAT ARE YOU--” Fred's admonishing is cut off by the bursting of the tires. Oh right. Spike strips. I guess not all of this works like the movies. The metal of the wheels grinds against the asphalt as we continue to careen towards the line of cops cars. The cops have mostly abandoned them.
I aim straight ahead and push the accelerator against the floor.
Even if I had a cool one-liner, Fred's screaming and the assorted bad car sounds would drown it out. We smash through the line of cop cars in a spectacular display, probably. From my vantage point, it's mostly terrifying and shaky. But bystanders, man. They probably got a hell of a show.
The van is losing speed pretty quickly, but the disaster behind us has slowed our pursuers even more. I pull off the road into a department store parking lot, finally sliding to a halt between two big rig trailers parked near the loading dock.
I hold my hands up as if to say “Ta da!” and Fred hits me with her messenger bag.
“Ow, hey! Quit that!” I grab the bag. She weakly lets go and turns away from me. Reasonable. I didn't explain any of this to her before the heist. Which I tricked her into helping me with.
“Fred, listen...” I reach a hand towards her cautiously, but stop.
“I don't want to listen to YOU.” She turns towards me just slightly at the last word, spitting it viciously through a lone curl that had fallen from her headband during the chase. She follows this up by blowing the renegade strand of hair from her face and pushing the glasses up her nose.
“Okay. Well, I'm gonna talk anyway. And it won't make much sense at first. But if you decide to start listening, maybe it'll start to make some sense.” She relaxes slightly, her curiosity betraying her righteously soured mood.
I take a deep breath and begin to say words that are not my own.
“I'm the main character in a story. The only reason we are here right now is because we are being written as such. I cannot be killed in this story, as it is based on a writing prompt that specifies that I know that I am the unkillable main character. The prompt doesn't specify how safe you are, but the writer likes you better and therefore has no plans to kill you off. If you don't believe me, which you shouldn't, because this sounds like pure madness, I can prove it. There was a thing that happened at your sixth birthday party that you haven't ever told a single soul, where you--”
“How... How could you know that? About my birthday?” Fred has turned towards me fully, looking more frightened and confused than she had during the police chase.
“I don't know it, Fred. The writer doesn't even know it. He just needed me to say the beginning of a dark secret from your past that only you could know, something to lend plausibility to your inevitable belief in my ridiculous assertion. Fred... Do you even know the secret I started to say just now?” She furrowed her brow.
“...No. No, I don't. But... How is this... I mean...”
“I don't know. But there it is. We're fictional. And I can't be killed. That's why we did the bank thing. Because I thought it would be fun. But this scene here, it's getting really metatextual and it's honestly kind of freaking me out. I feel like we're being watched. I feel like a puppet. Fred, I don't even know my last name. We don't have families or friends, because we haven't had them written for us. If we'd been written into a screenplay or a novel, maybe we'd have fuller lives. But this... We're a short story, and kind of a hacky one at that. Maybe we can't die, but how can we live? We're not even going to get a full three pages here. We got the big action sequence, and maybe that'll get expanded in revisions, but then what? He's not going to use us again. He hasn't even described what we look like, except that you wear glasses and have a strand of curly hair long enough to hang in front of your face. We're stories, but who are we? Where do we go when the story is over? We live this loop, again and again, never escaping the car chase or the navel-gazing commentary on the fictionality of our own lives.”
“But there's one way we can die, Jack.”
“Yeah? And what's that?”
“Say the words.”
“What words?”
“The end.” | "Yeah so, we doing this or what?"
He stood at the top of Mount Everest, his short, dark brown hair blowing into his face. His fists rested upon his hips, he had so much confidence you would think he owned the world from how he looked down at the clouds which covered view of the land.
"Why would we do *that?*" She said. On each hand she had only two fingers up and they were on her temples, continuously going in circles. "We made it to the top, let's just go down." She tried to convince him.
"We can, if you'd just jump down with me." He pushed.
"Sorry, but I don't want to die." She declined his idea once again.
"Don't worry about dying, as long as you're with me, you wont. *She* wouldn't let that happen to us." He laughed.
He moved from his position at the edge of the mountain, to beside his girlfriend. He plopped down next to her on their campsite, taking some air from the tank.
"Who's *she?*" His girlfriend's voice had curiosity and a little *jealousy* in it.
"The person writing our story." He said, losing interest in the conversation. He stood up and walked over to a small black rock and kicked it off the mountain, listening for a sound that never came.
"Wow, you sure are full of it, aren't ya?" She said. She looked blankly at him, watching how his hair blew in the wind, when it did you could see the beauty mark he hid beneath his bangs.
He had enough of the conversation and grabbed her hand which was being warmed in a black mitten. Her pink and gray Northface jacket rustled as it hit his black one lightly.
"What are you doing?" She shouted.
"Jumping."
They fell, her grip on his hand tightened and kept getting tighter and tighter as she screamed and he laughed. The pressure of the air did not affect them at all.
*We should be dead.* She thought and stopped screaming.
"I told you." He mouthed.
Soon they began to get closer to the bottom, only an arm's length away. they crashed into the ground.
"Ow." He said, rubbing his bleeding head. "Even though I can't die, I can still get seriously hurt, huh?" He asked the author.
He turned his head to his girlfriend who was...*knocked out?*
"Hey." He said, pinching her cheeks. "Hello, wake up. Why isn't she waking up?" He questioned the author again.
Even though he couldn't see it, the author smirked and laughed manically as she typed the words; He screamed and shouted for her to wake up, but it was over and she was dead. He was invincible as the main protagonist, but she wasn't. |
|
[WP] The main protagonist is fully aware of being the main protagonist and knows that, no matter what he does, he won't die during the story. | I tear the steering wheel hard into the oncoming lane of traffic. My body lurches nearly out of the seat. Ah, right. Seatbelt. I straighten the vehicle's trajectory and fasten my seatbelt. I turn to the front passenger seat. My passenger turns to me shakily, wearing an expression that is some unsettling blend of nauseated and enraged.
“What's that look for?” I intentionally keep my eyes off of the road for far too long. Horns blare, cars swerve out of the way. Just as expected.
“LOOK AT THE ROAD, YOU MANIAC!!” She grabs the wheel and pulls it hard to the right. The van thumps and bumps as it meets the curb and traverses the grass that now divides the two sections of road. The oncoming lane was actually an off-ramp, leading down from a highway that passes over the lane we'd been in before. So there's a height differential. We fall a short distance to the correct side of the road, hitting it hard and with a spray of sparks. The front right hubcap is a casualty. I watch it roll away from us in the rearview mirror. I recenter my attention on the interfering companion in the neighboring seat.
“Damn it, Fred! This lane has cops! You know how cops get about my driving!”
“Well maybe if you would DRIVE LIKE A PERSON, maybe they'd stop chasing us!”
“Well maybe if you hadn't stolen all of that money, they wouldn't be chasing!”
“YOU STOLE THE MONEY, YOU DICK!”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot... Well hey, you tagged along!” Fred stops trying to retort and throws her hands up in exhaustion, sighing an indeterminate swear word. The cops have blocked the road ahead. The ones behind have stopped following so closely, but the other cars, the blacked-out imports, those have kept pace. So much for the enemy of my enemy being my friend.
I squeeze the gas pedal closer to the floor.
“Jaaaack...” Fred tenses up in the seat, pressing against it and raising up slightly.
“Sshh...” I ignore her and try to hide my slight grin as I accelerate a bit more.
“...JAAAAAACK...” She's pushing up in the seat like there's a spider on the floor now.
“SSHH!”
“JACK! WHAT ARE YOU--” Fred's admonishing is cut off by the bursting of the tires. Oh right. Spike strips. I guess not all of this works like the movies. The metal of the wheels grinds against the asphalt as we continue to careen towards the line of cops cars. The cops have mostly abandoned them.
I aim straight ahead and push the accelerator against the floor.
Even if I had a cool one-liner, Fred's screaming and the assorted bad car sounds would drown it out. We smash through the line of cop cars in a spectacular display, probably. From my vantage point, it's mostly terrifying and shaky. But bystanders, man. They probably got a hell of a show.
The van is losing speed pretty quickly, but the disaster behind us has slowed our pursuers even more. I pull off the road into a department store parking lot, finally sliding to a halt between two big rig trailers parked near the loading dock.
I hold my hands up as if to say “Ta da!” and Fred hits me with her messenger bag.
“Ow, hey! Quit that!” I grab the bag. She weakly lets go and turns away from me. Reasonable. I didn't explain any of this to her before the heist. Which I tricked her into helping me with.
“Fred, listen...” I reach a hand towards her cautiously, but stop.
“I don't want to listen to YOU.” She turns towards me just slightly at the last word, spitting it viciously through a lone curl that had fallen from her headband during the chase. She follows this up by blowing the renegade strand of hair from her face and pushing the glasses up her nose.
“Okay. Well, I'm gonna talk anyway. And it won't make much sense at first. But if you decide to start listening, maybe it'll start to make some sense.” She relaxes slightly, her curiosity betraying her righteously soured mood.
I take a deep breath and begin to say words that are not my own.
“I'm the main character in a story. The only reason we are here right now is because we are being written as such. I cannot be killed in this story, as it is based on a writing prompt that specifies that I know that I am the unkillable main character. The prompt doesn't specify how safe you are, but the writer likes you better and therefore has no plans to kill you off. If you don't believe me, which you shouldn't, because this sounds like pure madness, I can prove it. There was a thing that happened at your sixth birthday party that you haven't ever told a single soul, where you--”
“How... How could you know that? About my birthday?” Fred has turned towards me fully, looking more frightened and confused than she had during the police chase.
“I don't know it, Fred. The writer doesn't even know it. He just needed me to say the beginning of a dark secret from your past that only you could know, something to lend plausibility to your inevitable belief in my ridiculous assertion. Fred... Do you even know the secret I started to say just now?” She furrowed her brow.
“...No. No, I don't. But... How is this... I mean...”
“I don't know. But there it is. We're fictional. And I can't be killed. That's why we did the bank thing. Because I thought it would be fun. But this scene here, it's getting really metatextual and it's honestly kind of freaking me out. I feel like we're being watched. I feel like a puppet. Fred, I don't even know my last name. We don't have families or friends, because we haven't had them written for us. If we'd been written into a screenplay or a novel, maybe we'd have fuller lives. But this... We're a short story, and kind of a hacky one at that. Maybe we can't die, but how can we live? We're not even going to get a full three pages here. We got the big action sequence, and maybe that'll get expanded in revisions, but then what? He's not going to use us again. He hasn't even described what we look like, except that you wear glasses and have a strand of curly hair long enough to hang in front of your face. We're stories, but who are we? Where do we go when the story is over? We live this loop, again and again, never escaping the car chase or the navel-gazing commentary on the fictionality of our own lives.”
“But there's one way we can die, Jack.”
“Yeah? And what's that?”
“Say the words.”
“What words?”
“The end.” | Jane's Beige-suited psychiatrist took off his glasses and rubbed his bloodshot eyes.
"Look its understandable that you've been a bit freaked out by all these gory murders. But you have to realise that what you're telling me is completely insane."
"No what i'm telling you is the truth. This is all a story and i'm the main character so I cant die."
"Jane there are a lot of self help books that talk about life as one long story. Maybe you just got confus..... Jane where are you going?"
Unwilling to listen Jane had clamberd up from the couch and stood to face a nearby window.
"Well doctor if you wont take my word for it i'll just have to show you. If I were to jump out of this window would I die?"
"Well yes of course we're on the fifth floor."
Jane sprinted to the window and before the doctor could stop her she lept through the air, smashing through the glass.
The Doctor panicked and leapt to the window. On the street far below he could just make out the faint red smear of Jane's broken body.
As he stared down tears began to stream down his face.
"I'm sorry Jane"
The moment those words left left his lips his vision began to blur.
Slowly a blackness began to creep into the edges of his vision. He began to panic as the darkness devoured more and more of his field of vision. He tried frantically to wipe his eyes but it did no good.
As his sight finally faded to black words in large white letters filled his vision.
THE END
A very strange suicide
Directed by Melvin Blake
Teleplay by Edward Blackthorn
Characters in order of first
appearence
Jane Anna Skelton
DR Lewis Martin Bradley
|
|
[WP] All but 2% of the population have vanished. In your hometown only you, the person you love most, and the person you hate most remain. | Monday mornings were still the worst, that's one thing that didn't change after The Incident . Every Monday I woke up in a bad mood. For different reasons entirely of course.
I cajoled myself out of bed and look
around my so called bedroom. A room in the Public Library, christ it was depressing waking up here surrounded by books about Chemistry and Science, he was sick of them.
The Sun peeked through the overhead window, illuminating my bedside table and a pocket watch.
"Damn it!, gonna be late". I walk down the fourth floor to the Art section and as always knock the door.
"Ready to go Laura?" I ask her, hoping she says no.
"Yeah, I'm ready" she smiles at me. She looks beautiful, it's been six months and every morning her beauty took my breath away.
We descend to the ground floor, grabbing some supplies and then head out to the morning sky. To the same destination as always.
"You coming inside today? " she asks, knowing my answer already.
" I'll stay outside, don't feel like it"
She gives me a sad smile and enters the graveyard, a bunch of lilacs in her hand.
Every weeks she places those flowers on the large angel statue for our old friends and family long gone , even though they didn't get graves, everyone just disappeared. And every week I wait outside, I'm not a fan of being there in the graveyard
She returns a few minutes later, a few years in her eyes, but she's strong, and smart. That's what saved in the first place, alone, studying in the Library cellar. Nobody else had a chance.
I give her hand a squeeze and give her a smile. We head back to the Library, talking about anything but the thing.
Six months have passed with her, and I love her, and I know she feels the same about me. But she feels my hesitation. I wish I could give her what she wants. But I can't. So we resort to giving each other deep looks
We spend all day together, the same routine, counting supplies, eating, fixing up the link library,talking, playing some silly games.
"Hey, you wanna come to my room and see this drawing I've made " the way she says it implies more than art is intended.
" I think I might just go asleep " I reply.
But she doesn't relent, she comes close as kisses me, and I don't resist, I kiss her back
" it's my birthday, let's celebrate Michael "
" I'm sorry, but I can't " I head to my room, leaving her there... With sadness in her eyes, and confusion
It's the best thing to do... Because even though I love her more than anyone... And she feels the same way about me. I love her deeply, it's not her who I hate...
I stare at myself in the mirror.. If she knew my part in The Incident. She would hate me, because I hate myself more than anyone
| "Mabel get me the shotgun, that goddam bastard took apples from our apple tree again, I can see them in his yard," I screamed.
Its been thirty no forty years since everyone disappeared. Only me, my wife, and that asshole next door Jerry were left in our town. For a time Jerry and I put aside our differences, after all I wasn't going to not help the man just because he would dump his lawn clippings in my yard.
For a time it worked out, but that bastard became more devious every day. First he would let his dogs out to bark in the middle of the night. Then he would tinker on that ridiculously contraption he called a motorcycle until well after midnight. The last straw was when started stealing my apples from my apple tree.
I have been growing that apple tree since everyone disappeared shortly after my 30th birthday and now it is a magnificent tree after 50 years. Grooming and caring for that tree is one of the few things I enjoy in life and THAT MAN HAS THE AUDACITY TO STEAL THE APPLES FROM IT.
"MABEL, WHERE IS MY SHOTGUN?" I scream, "I AM NOT LETTING THAT MAN STEAL ANY MORE APPLES!"
"HOW MAN TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU, YOU SENILE BASTARD," she screams back, "HE ISN'T STEALING THEM, THEY ARE DROPPING ONTO HIS SIDE OF THE YARD!" |
|
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | I'm nervous. I mean I've only tried weed and that was only once, but this drug was supposed to be different. There were no side effects and no risk of physical addiction. I'd heard of a couple older people who'd taken it and kept coming back to visit "the good old days" until their money ran out and one or two people who'd ended up in places they never wanted to be again, but a random memory seemed like it would be really cool to see again.. I didn't have anything that bad in my past, and my life was pretty damn good right now. It would be cool to visit some of the stuff in my past, see if my childhood was all it was cracked up to be. Besides it's a party. We're supposed to take a hit then talk about what showed up. Already we'd gotten a "first time", an embarrassing story about a high school play, and a memory from a girl who was attacked by a chihuahua at 4 and has hated dogs ever since.
"Alright Sammy, give me a hit. I'll go next"
"Cool, that's $35, but for your first time I'll make it a nice even $30."
Here we go..
I take the pill and grind it up like I watched Tim do, then snort it through my nose. It's supposed to be faster that way. For a few more seconds I watch the people around me drinking and calming down the chihuahua girl. After all, as ridiculous as it is now, the emotions are from when she was 4. That dog was scary back then...
It's dark outside. I'm reading a book under my covers with a flashlight. I don't want Mom to catch me. Suddenly I feel a rumbling..
"OH NO! OHNONONO!"
I run down the hallway. Salvation!
The door is open. I run inside throwing the door closed behind me. I drop my pants and squat on the toilet bowl. I'd had a lot of Mom's tacos that night. No big deal though. I made sure to wipe thoroughly, then went back to bed and actually slept.
Slowly, I wake up to 10 people staring intently at me.
"Goddammit Sammy, I want my money back!"
"No refunds man!"
Man, truly random memories. Slowly, I wonder if the others were telling the truth about their random memories. There was no emotional connection to that story. It wasn't even that long. The memory could have been of me waiting in line at the supermarket. This shit is NOT worth the money. But it's a party.. I make up my mind..
"So there was this girl in high school, man I though she was hot..." | "I promise you'll like it, Bran."
I shake my head vigorously. No way I would be tricked into drugs, especially some unknown one.
"Just once bran, please. It's on me."
This time, I just glared at her, asking her if I was an idiot through my unamused gaze. If Rebecca was this desperate to get me high on this thing, then it would probably mean more than trouble- anything she was into would spell trouble. After seeing her visibly give up, I wandered to
To one of the cocktail stands and poured myself a drink. Drowsily, I noted that the waitresses that had been serving the drinks had meandered off somewhere, and regretted that Rebecca had dragged me off before I'd gotten a word with that red-haired one. I hoped she would come back soon...
The world lost all balance, and I collapsed. I tried to ask for help, but my throat was dry.
Fuck. Rebecca had spiked the drinks.
After what seemed like a long time, I awakened to the sight of a concrete-grey sky matching the colour of the roof. As my body raised itself, my muscles complained and my neck felt in need of a good cracking. However, apparently I ignored the sensation and forged onwards.
"That's surprising", I thought to myself. Wasn't that drug Rebecca told. Me about meant to make me recall a memory? I don't remember this at all...
As my dilemma confused me, the memory-me narrowed his eyes and quickened his pace. His breathing became ragged, and I could feel my heart being ripped in two, a deep, penetrating pain grasping my being.
Bt what finally tipped it off was what I was holding. A knife.
I tried to stop myself as I turned the corner. I screamed at my body to stop, but it wouldn't listen. It was only a memory.
And then, the most 'real' thing within the memory happened. I saw Rebecca.
And I stabbed her.
I felt the cold splash of water as the memory ended, and before I could open my eyes, I heard a voice.
"Do you remember now?"
And that's the story of how I died. |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "I'll get it!"
My own voice rings in my head, the signature high-pitched squeal of a boy just hit puberty.
I walk through the slightly unkempt grass, each step cushioning my low-quality, two-sizes-too-big Dunlop shoes; "He'll grow into 'em," my dad would always say.
My right hand meets the chain link fence and I look up to check the height. *I don't think I've ever climbed a fence this high* The sun catches my eyes just right, and my left hand goes over my eyes to shield me.
I place my right foot into one of the diamond holes, and it slides to the front in the loose-fitting shoes. My hands grip tightly at the fence and the unrefined metal is sharp against my soft hands, tiny razor-like thorns of metal dig into my skin but don't break flesh. Each hole is another foot higher, as I slowly climb further.
Finally at the top, I get one hand across the stable bar before I hear a voice behind me; "You're going too slow, Philip! I'll just get it!" My older brother's voice is mostly ignored as I concentrate on the task.
My head gets above the bar, and my eyes focus on the green disc in the distance, the gnarled barbs of the fence blur in my vision. As I start to climb over, I hear it again. "You're so slow!" I hear the fence rattle, and the shaking from the added weight and his quick climbing causes one foot to sleep. My arms shake as I try to keep my body weight up, but my undefined body can't take much more.
His next reckless step causes me to lose my own. Both feet have now lost their hold inside the links, and I'm falling. I turn for safety, but too late as the twisted metal tops make first contact with my left eyelid.
A "pop" sound rings in my ears, but the sound is not my concern. It's the crescendo of pain. The rising pain. No-words-can-describe-it pain. It feels like an eternity, like I am slowly descending further into a world of pain, before the pain explodes and doubles in intensity. Somehow, some way, the world can provide more pain.
And then the world goes dark. And when I am finally sure I am awake, it stays black, and never goes bright again. | "I promise you'll like it, Bran."
I shake my head vigorously. No way I would be tricked into drugs, especially some unknown one.
"Just once bran, please. It's on me."
This time, I just glared at her, asking her if I was an idiot through my unamused gaze. If Rebecca was this desperate to get me high on this thing, then it would probably mean more than trouble- anything she was into would spell trouble. After seeing her visibly give up, I wandered to
To one of the cocktail stands and poured myself a drink. Drowsily, I noted that the waitresses that had been serving the drinks had meandered off somewhere, and regretted that Rebecca had dragged me off before I'd gotten a word with that red-haired one. I hoped she would come back soon...
The world lost all balance, and I collapsed. I tried to ask for help, but my throat was dry.
Fuck. Rebecca had spiked the drinks.
After what seemed like a long time, I awakened to the sight of a concrete-grey sky matching the colour of the roof. As my body raised itself, my muscles complained and my neck felt in need of a good cracking. However, apparently I ignored the sensation and forged onwards.
"That's surprising", I thought to myself. Wasn't that drug Rebecca told. Me about meant to make me recall a memory? I don't remember this at all...
As my dilemma confused me, the memory-me narrowed his eyes and quickened his pace. His breathing became ragged, and I could feel my heart being ripped in two, a deep, penetrating pain grasping my being.
Bt what finally tipped it off was what I was holding. A knife.
I tried to stop myself as I turned the corner. I screamed at my body to stop, but it wouldn't listen. It was only a memory.
And then, the most 'real' thing within the memory happened. I saw Rebecca.
And I stabbed her.
I felt the cold splash of water as the memory ended, and before I could open my eyes, I heard a voice.
"Do you remember now?"
And that's the story of how I died. |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | Everything is so dark. I don't remember this memory... where am I?
I feel like I'm being squeezed by the walls, very tightly. I'm claustrophobic, but strangely, I am not scared by this.
I can feel myself slipping upward, being pushed by the walls. What is happening? I don't even remember this memory at all...
I manage to make it past a threshold. I see a very bright light, and faces with masks. Aliens? Was I abducted in the past?
I take a deep breath. That feels... new. I start crying for some unknown reason.
"It's a boy!" | "I promise you'll like it, Bran."
I shake my head vigorously. No way I would be tricked into drugs, especially some unknown one.
"Just once bran, please. It's on me."
This time, I just glared at her, asking her if I was an idiot through my unamused gaze. If Rebecca was this desperate to get me high on this thing, then it would probably mean more than trouble- anything she was into would spell trouble. After seeing her visibly give up, I wandered to
To one of the cocktail stands and poured myself a drink. Drowsily, I noted that the waitresses that had been serving the drinks had meandered off somewhere, and regretted that Rebecca had dragged me off before I'd gotten a word with that red-haired one. I hoped she would come back soon...
The world lost all balance, and I collapsed. I tried to ask for help, but my throat was dry.
Fuck. Rebecca had spiked the drinks.
After what seemed like a long time, I awakened to the sight of a concrete-grey sky matching the colour of the roof. As my body raised itself, my muscles complained and my neck felt in need of a good cracking. However, apparently I ignored the sensation and forged onwards.
"That's surprising", I thought to myself. Wasn't that drug Rebecca told. Me about meant to make me recall a memory? I don't remember this at all...
As my dilemma confused me, the memory-me narrowed his eyes and quickened his pace. His breathing became ragged, and I could feel my heart being ripped in two, a deep, penetrating pain grasping my being.
Bt what finally tipped it off was what I was holding. A knife.
I tried to stop myself as I turned the corner. I screamed at my body to stop, but it wouldn't listen. It was only a memory.
And then, the most 'real' thing within the memory happened. I saw Rebecca.
And I stabbed her.
I felt the cold splash of water as the memory ended, and before I could open my eyes, I heard a voice.
"Do you remember now?"
And that's the story of how I died. |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | You were expecting something less painful than this.
Lying on your back in a world that's far, far too large. There's too much raw stuff in this space, like someone dumped air, light and sound into the room until it started bulging at the edges. That too-big outside looms over you in a way you never noticed before, but it's not the source of the hurt.
That's coming from inside you, like a migraine in your jaw. You feel like you should be bleeding, if you could do more than move drowsily from side to side. The pain cuts out your ability to think straight, but you resolve to never touch this stuff again, and to punch Danny in the nuts a few times for trying to sell you anything but weed.
Teething is a bitch. | "I promise you'll like it, Bran."
I shake my head vigorously. No way I would be tricked into drugs, especially some unknown one.
"Just once bran, please. It's on me."
This time, I just glared at her, asking her if I was an idiot through my unamused gaze. If Rebecca was this desperate to get me high on this thing, then it would probably mean more than trouble- anything she was into would spell trouble. After seeing her visibly give up, I wandered to
To one of the cocktail stands and poured myself a drink. Drowsily, I noted that the waitresses that had been serving the drinks had meandered off somewhere, and regretted that Rebecca had dragged me off before I'd gotten a word with that red-haired one. I hoped she would come back soon...
The world lost all balance, and I collapsed. I tried to ask for help, but my throat was dry.
Fuck. Rebecca had spiked the drinks.
After what seemed like a long time, I awakened to the sight of a concrete-grey sky matching the colour of the roof. As my body raised itself, my muscles complained and my neck felt in need of a good cracking. However, apparently I ignored the sensation and forged onwards.
"That's surprising", I thought to myself. Wasn't that drug Rebecca told. Me about meant to make me recall a memory? I don't remember this at all...
As my dilemma confused me, the memory-me narrowed his eyes and quickened his pace. His breathing became ragged, and I could feel my heart being ripped in two, a deep, penetrating pain grasping my being.
Bt what finally tipped it off was what I was holding. A knife.
I tried to stop myself as I turned the corner. I screamed at my body to stop, but it wouldn't listen. It was only a memory.
And then, the most 'real' thing within the memory happened. I saw Rebecca.
And I stabbed her.
I felt the cold splash of water as the memory ended, and before I could open my eyes, I heard a voice.
"Do you remember now?"
And that's the story of how I died. |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Hey man, you wana try this shit? I got it from a friend who works down in Texas. Says they shoot it over the border fence late at night. It's called Memory Lane or some shit like that. He says it lets you relive part of your life with abso-fucking-lutely prefect recall. It's like you're **THERE**."
"How much?"
The dealer shrugs, "first hit's free, ya know?"
"Hell yea. Man, there was this girl once, back in Cali? God she was the whole package. Smart, funny, a surfer's body -- you ever hook up with one of those surfer chicks? Hours of swimming **do things** to a womans body. KnowwhatImsaying? Hand that shit over."
A small glass vial changes hands, the liquid inside bending the sodium glow of the city's old industrial street lamps into figments and ghosts upon the cracked concrete of the skate park.
"Two drops in each eye. Yea, just lean your head back and... yea. Ok. You might wana lie down."
The dealer cradled his friends head in his hands as the drug took hold. The effect was always the same -- the pupils open like pits as the eyelids flutter shut. The legs kick: once, twice, and then stiffen before melting slowly into a pronounced torpor.
And then, stillness. In the distance an ambulance siren whoops, barely discernable above the neon buzz of the dry-cleaner's cracking yellow sign.
He wakes to the rhythmic thuds of the 11:10 train, northbound, on the tracks above.
"Well? How was it? Shit's amazing right? Did you see the girl? Maybe your dad or that car you wrecked in high school? The memory is random so it could have been anything but the more you try the more likely you are to get a good one. I'll cut you a deal on the whole case if you..."
"Did you know we spend 1/3 of our lives asleep?"
"I.... well shit." | "I promise you'll like it, Bran."
I shake my head vigorously. No way I would be tricked into drugs, especially some unknown one.
"Just once bran, please. It's on me."
This time, I just glared at her, asking her if I was an idiot through my unamused gaze. If Rebecca was this desperate to get me high on this thing, then it would probably mean more than trouble- anything she was into would spell trouble. After seeing her visibly give up, I wandered to
To one of the cocktail stands and poured myself a drink. Drowsily, I noted that the waitresses that had been serving the drinks had meandered off somewhere, and regretted that Rebecca had dragged me off before I'd gotten a word with that red-haired one. I hoped she would come back soon...
The world lost all balance, and I collapsed. I tried to ask for help, but my throat was dry.
Fuck. Rebecca had spiked the drinks.
After what seemed like a long time, I awakened to the sight of a concrete-grey sky matching the colour of the roof. As my body raised itself, my muscles complained and my neck felt in need of a good cracking. However, apparently I ignored the sensation and forged onwards.
"That's surprising", I thought to myself. Wasn't that drug Rebecca told. Me about meant to make me recall a memory? I don't remember this at all...
As my dilemma confused me, the memory-me narrowed his eyes and quickened his pace. His breathing became ragged, and I could feel my heart being ripped in two, a deep, penetrating pain grasping my being.
Bt what finally tipped it off was what I was holding. A knife.
I tried to stop myself as I turned the corner. I screamed at my body to stop, but it wouldn't listen. It was only a memory.
And then, the most 'real' thing within the memory happened. I saw Rebecca.
And I stabbed her.
I felt the cold splash of water as the memory ended, and before I could open my eyes, I heard a voice.
"Do you remember now?"
And that's the story of how I died. |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | So I'm new here, and I figured this would be a good way to brush up on my creative writing. I'm sorry if it's terrible! Anyway, enjoy!
I started through the stained mirror, finally glancing away from the cracks at the corner, and back at my bloodshot eyes, trying to remember how many times I put myself through this. Was this the eighth time, or the ninth? Which time was it that the tremors started up? Shit, my skin is turning yellow, or is that mustard? It was pale last time, it had to have been. Just keep going, once I remember it'll be fine-no, I have to remember.- My body can heal, right? It's worth it. Focus! I have to have this memory, I have to know where they took her!
Get a grip. We were at the museum that day, she finally got to see that new geology exhibit - she was so happy, damn it! We got hot dogs next, yeah, the salty smell of processed guts with a slight tang in the air from that loose ketchup. Oh, that needle stings more than usual- focus!
This was a great idea, just what we needed; a father daughter outing. She looks adorable in that little dress, I'm raising a little strawberry shortcake. "Come on Kyra, let's get to the movie theater so we can get the bar seats!" God, it's good to see her smiling again after everything. Now, which way to the movies again? I know we can take a left on Adams, but let's take Nash. There's a nice park up that road, I'm sure Kyra wouldn't mind seeing some trees. -This is it, finally! Come on, just focus a little longer.- "Daddy can I climb a tree, pleeeeaaase? " How can you say no to that? "Sure, Kyra, but let's make it quick! The Muppets are waiting!" she looked slightly odd grabbing onto that gritty bark in that cherry red dress and struggling to hoist herself up.
Wait, I never moved to help her up, they knocked me out by then. Why am I grabbing her so firmly? This isn't right! What the hell is going on? It was me? I can't. Stop this Goddamn memory!
The foul acidic burn from the vomit gripping my nostrils is better than enduring that memory. It couldn't have been me. It couldn't have. "come out with your hands up!" I guess there's a reason I was the only suspect. I really hope this shard does the trick. "Stop! I'm halfway through, let me end myself!" Why did they barge in? They can't put me through worse than that. Do they really think they can rehabilitate me? | "I promise you'll like it, Bran."
I shake my head vigorously. No way I would be tricked into drugs, especially some unknown one.
"Just once bran, please. It's on me."
This time, I just glared at her, asking her if I was an idiot through my unamused gaze. If Rebecca was this desperate to get me high on this thing, then it would probably mean more than trouble- anything she was into would spell trouble. After seeing her visibly give up, I wandered to
To one of the cocktail stands and poured myself a drink. Drowsily, I noted that the waitresses that had been serving the drinks had meandered off somewhere, and regretted that Rebecca had dragged me off before I'd gotten a word with that red-haired one. I hoped she would come back soon...
The world lost all balance, and I collapsed. I tried to ask for help, but my throat was dry.
Fuck. Rebecca had spiked the drinks.
After what seemed like a long time, I awakened to the sight of a concrete-grey sky matching the colour of the roof. As my body raised itself, my muscles complained and my neck felt in need of a good cracking. However, apparently I ignored the sensation and forged onwards.
"That's surprising", I thought to myself. Wasn't that drug Rebecca told. Me about meant to make me recall a memory? I don't remember this at all...
As my dilemma confused me, the memory-me narrowed his eyes and quickened his pace. His breathing became ragged, and I could feel my heart being ripped in two, a deep, penetrating pain grasping my being.
Bt what finally tipped it off was what I was holding. A knife.
I tried to stop myself as I turned the corner. I screamed at my body to stop, but it wouldn't listen. It was only a memory.
And then, the most 'real' thing within the memory happened. I saw Rebecca.
And I stabbed her.
I felt the cold splash of water as the memory ended, and before I could open my eyes, I heard a voice.
"Do you remember now?"
And that's the story of how I died. |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "It's called Memory Lane. It takes you back to a moment in your life, and let's you relive it like it is actually happening. Everything feels the same. Sights, smells, touch, feelings, and emotions. It's an amazing sensation." She rattled on and on, but I wasn't convinced.
"Why would anyone want to relive past moments?" I sure as hell wouldn't. My life has been full of pain and sorrow, so much so that I can barely remember any happy memories.
"Are you KIDDING me? You can experience anything and everything for the first time again. You can remember great moments again and again." Her eyes became brighter and brighter as she continued to list all the amazing things ML does for people.
I still wasn't convinced, but I thought "Fuck it... I'll do one." I inhaled a spray of ML from an inhaler. I was instantly transported back 16 years...but I couldn't move, or speak on my own accord. I was literally in the moment, in control of nothing, an observer in my own body.
"Wait..." I thought, "I know where I am. I know when I am...no...NO." I was there, in Philadelphia, on July 8th, 1999. The night before my father died. "No...I can't do this again. I just...can't." I pleaded with myself, somehow thinking if I begged my brain hard enough the memory would change. I knew once I went to sleep I'd be awoken by my frantic mother. I knew I'd have to relive the moment of frivolous attempting CPR on my father's lifeless body. I'd relive the moment when I lashed out at the ER doctor when he told me my father was dead. Wake up...please wake up. Snap out of this...
I didnt wake up, and my memory of this night became clearer to me. I knew what was going to happen next. I watched as my body got up from its seat and moved out into the living room. As I turned the corner I saw him... "Happy birthday Dad! I know I don't say this often, but I love you." My heart broke...I should have said it more often to him.
"It's OK, son. I was 17 once too. I know you do." I heard my father's voice, for the first time in 16 years, say. I had forgotten what his voice sounded like...
"Thanks pops..." I felt my body plop down next to him on the couch, and give him a hug. I had forgotten how he smelled like Brut aftershave. I had forgotten how safe I felt in his embrace. I had forgotten a lot of things.
"You know what, son... I'm glad we had a chance this year to get closer. I know I spent too much time focused on your older brother when you both were growing up. I'm sorry for that." My father lamented. What the hell...? I don't remember this at all.
"Dad...my brother got your time because of baseball, but that's about all he got. I got your time for movies, arcades, libraries, museums, whatever I wanted to do. It may have not been all that much time, but it was always more than enough." I heard myself say, but didn't believe it. I don't remember this conversation. I don't remember my father apologizing to me for not doing enough. He always did more than enough...
"Well, kid, when you have your own children learn from my mistake. Spend as much time with each of them as possible. You never know when time will run out." He said with a smile and lighthearted chuckle.
We sat and watched TV, as we did 16 years ago. We cracked jokes, we poked fun at each other, and we channel surfed...just like we did that fateful day. I never knew the happiest moment of my life was just sitting and watching TV with my dad on his birthday, until now.
Then everything went black.
"How was it?" I heard a familiar voice ask. "What memory did you have??" It was my friend.
"I...I went back to the night before my dad died."
"OH MY GOD...I'm so sorry. I forgot to tell you that ML picks a random memory. I never had to relive anything horrific before..."
"No...actually...it was good. I got to see my dad again. I got to hear something he said back then that I completely forgot about. I...I... thank you. I've always said I'd give anything in this world to spend one more moment with him. So...thank you."
I packed up my things and got ready to leave. "Where are you going?" She asked.
"I'm going home to be with my kids." | "I promise you'll like it, Bran."
I shake my head vigorously. No way I would be tricked into drugs, especially some unknown one.
"Just once bran, please. It's on me."
This time, I just glared at her, asking her if I was an idiot through my unamused gaze. If Rebecca was this desperate to get me high on this thing, then it would probably mean more than trouble- anything she was into would spell trouble. After seeing her visibly give up, I wandered to
To one of the cocktail stands and poured myself a drink. Drowsily, I noted that the waitresses that had been serving the drinks had meandered off somewhere, and regretted that Rebecca had dragged me off before I'd gotten a word with that red-haired one. I hoped she would come back soon...
The world lost all balance, and I collapsed. I tried to ask for help, but my throat was dry.
Fuck. Rebecca had spiked the drinks.
After what seemed like a long time, I awakened to the sight of a concrete-grey sky matching the colour of the roof. As my body raised itself, my muscles complained and my neck felt in need of a good cracking. However, apparently I ignored the sensation and forged onwards.
"That's surprising", I thought to myself. Wasn't that drug Rebecca told. Me about meant to make me recall a memory? I don't remember this at all...
As my dilemma confused me, the memory-me narrowed his eyes and quickened his pace. His breathing became ragged, and I could feel my heart being ripped in two, a deep, penetrating pain grasping my being.
Bt what finally tipped it off was what I was holding. A knife.
I tried to stop myself as I turned the corner. I screamed at my body to stop, but it wouldn't listen. It was only a memory.
And then, the most 'real' thing within the memory happened. I saw Rebecca.
And I stabbed her.
I felt the cold splash of water as the memory ended, and before I could open my eyes, I heard a voice.
"Do you remember now?"
And that's the story of how I died. |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
Inhale. Just like he told me, I hold my breath. I let it fill my lungs. I let the drug take over. Clouds of past memories filled my mind, nothing clear yet, as if the drug was slowly walking down memory lane, looking into doors of each memory, but not yet committing to one. Eventually, though, it stops, choosing a door, a memory, a decision based completly randomly. I hope its a good one. Exhale.
I pass out.
"Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
I wake up.
"Well, how was it?" Joe asks. | "I promise you'll like it, Bran."
I shake my head vigorously. No way I would be tricked into drugs, especially some unknown one.
"Just once bran, please. It's on me."
This time, I just glared at her, asking her if I was an idiot through my unamused gaze. If Rebecca was this desperate to get me high on this thing, then it would probably mean more than trouble- anything she was into would spell trouble. After seeing her visibly give up, I wandered to
To one of the cocktail stands and poured myself a drink. Drowsily, I noted that the waitresses that had been serving the drinks had meandered off somewhere, and regretted that Rebecca had dragged me off before I'd gotten a word with that red-haired one. I hoped she would come back soon...
The world lost all balance, and I collapsed. I tried to ask for help, but my throat was dry.
Fuck. Rebecca had spiked the drinks.
After what seemed like a long time, I awakened to the sight of a concrete-grey sky matching the colour of the roof. As my body raised itself, my muscles complained and my neck felt in need of a good cracking. However, apparently I ignored the sensation and forged onwards.
"That's surprising", I thought to myself. Wasn't that drug Rebecca told. Me about meant to make me recall a memory? I don't remember this at all...
As my dilemma confused me, the memory-me narrowed his eyes and quickened his pace. His breathing became ragged, and I could feel my heart being ripped in two, a deep, penetrating pain grasping my being.
Bt what finally tipped it off was what I was holding. A knife.
I tried to stop myself as I turned the corner. I screamed at my body to stop, but it wouldn't listen. It was only a memory.
And then, the most 'real' thing within the memory happened. I saw Rebecca.
And I stabbed her.
I felt the cold splash of water as the memory ended, and before I could open my eyes, I heard a voice.
"Do you remember now?"
And that's the story of how I died. |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | I found out about it from a friend... never did anything like this before but I figured what the hell...
Looking into the mirror... down the hatch...
There she was, beautiful. Raven hair, blue eyes, tall... Gorgeous...
"Have a good day sweetheart" she said before we left.
Same usual day, same usual school, same usual lunch. Coloring, nap time, recess (my favorite). We played outside that day. It was cool, but not cold. I love the swings. All to myself today.
Back in class, back to work. I love story time.
The teacher read as we lay on our mats. Almost nap time. Of course I'm not tired! How could I be? Today is great!
The bus ride home was okay... Same old bus... But my sister is there, she always makes boring go away...
He met us in the driveway... What's wrong? Something is wrong...
"I'm sorry girls" he said with tears in his eyes... "she's gone..."
I woke on the floor and stared at the ceiling.... I miss my mommy... | "I promise you'll like it, Bran."
I shake my head vigorously. No way I would be tricked into drugs, especially some unknown one.
"Just once bran, please. It's on me."
This time, I just glared at her, asking her if I was an idiot through my unamused gaze. If Rebecca was this desperate to get me high on this thing, then it would probably mean more than trouble- anything she was into would spell trouble. After seeing her visibly give up, I wandered to
To one of the cocktail stands and poured myself a drink. Drowsily, I noted that the waitresses that had been serving the drinks had meandered off somewhere, and regretted that Rebecca had dragged me off before I'd gotten a word with that red-haired one. I hoped she would come back soon...
The world lost all balance, and I collapsed. I tried to ask for help, but my throat was dry.
Fuck. Rebecca had spiked the drinks.
After what seemed like a long time, I awakened to the sight of a concrete-grey sky matching the colour of the roof. As my body raised itself, my muscles complained and my neck felt in need of a good cracking. However, apparently I ignored the sensation and forged onwards.
"That's surprising", I thought to myself. Wasn't that drug Rebecca told. Me about meant to make me recall a memory? I don't remember this at all...
As my dilemma confused me, the memory-me narrowed his eyes and quickened his pace. His breathing became ragged, and I could feel my heart being ripped in two, a deep, penetrating pain grasping my being.
Bt what finally tipped it off was what I was holding. A knife.
I tried to stop myself as I turned the corner. I screamed at my body to stop, but it wouldn't listen. It was only a memory.
And then, the most 'real' thing within the memory happened. I saw Rebecca.
And I stabbed her.
I felt the cold splash of water as the memory ended, and before I could open my eyes, I heard a voice.
"Do you remember now?"
And that's the story of how I died. |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Are you serious?", I said as I looked around the room and all the smiling faces. " you're joking right? Like this actually works?"
My friends invited me over for our bi-monthly trip. I wasn't really a fan. I always end up freaking out and breaking something.
"Yeah dude seriously. Take this and you can relive a memory. It's random though so if you got molested as a child things could get weird." I was intrigued but kind of hesitant. My childhood was boring. Like what if I get a memory that is just me sitting in my room watching school of rock and eating a hot pocket? I guess it's not that bad. I haven't seen that movie in a while.
"I think I want to watch someone else do it first", I said
"Alright, Katie you brought them. You go first"
Katie was a bitch, but she always had drugs so I guess she is cool.
Katie opened her bag and pulled out a canister. It looked like it was from space. She twisted the top and with a satisfying click the corner of a plastic bag popped out. She pulled out the plastic bag and I was done.
"That's meth. I'm doing meth you idiots", I angrily shouted.
Katie rolled her eyes and said, "it's not meth. Chill out. Just watch".
Just like someone would do with meth she laid it on the table, crushed it, and snorted it.
"Seriously?"
"Shut up just watch"
Katie laid her head back and blacked out. Ten seconds later she wakes up and smiles.
"How long was I out?"
"Like a few seconds", I said
"Really?! It felt like at least two hours. Anyways, my memory was pretty crazy. It was a fight I got into with this chick in middle school. I broke her nose. It was a pretty funny memory. That's really it. Somebody else go."
Everyone looked at me. I began to sweat. I thought for a moment and gave in.
"Fine I'll do it"
Slowly I take the crystal looking memory drug and crushed it. I stared at it for a moment and went down and let it travel through my nose.
I laid my head back and waited. I was nervous but I couldn't let anyone know that. I took one last deep breath and everything changed. I heard noises. Familiar noises. My parents. Images of my childhood flashed in front of my eyes. They started getting longer and slowing down until a final scene stopped and I dove into the memory.
"Are you serious?", I said as I looked around the room and all the smiling faces. " you're joking right? Like this actually works?"
My friends invited me over for our bi-monthly trip. I wasn't really a fan. I always end up freaking out and breaking something.
"Yeah dude seriously. Take this and you can relive a memory. It's random though so if you got molested as a child things could get weird." I was intrigued but kind of hesitant. My childhood was boring. Like what if I get a memory that is just me sitting in my room watching school of rock and eating a hot pocket? I guess it's not that bad. I haven't seen that movie in a while.
"I think I want to watch someone else do it first", I said
"Alright, Katie you brought them. You go first"
Katie was a bitch, but she always had drugs so I guess she is cool.
Katie opened her bag and pulled out a canister. It looked like it was from space. She twisted the top and with a satisfying click the corner of a plastic bag popped out. She pulled out the plastic bag and I was done.
"That's meth. I'm doing meth you idiots", I angrily shouted.
Katie rolled her eyes and said, "it's not meth. Chill out. Just watch".
Just like someone would do with meth she laid it on the table, crushed it, and snorted it.
"Seriously?"
"Shut up just watch"
Katie laid her head back and blacked out. Ten seconds later she wakes up and smiles.
"How long was I out?"
"Like a few seconds", I said
"Really?! It felt like at least two hours. Anyways, my memory was pretty crazy. It was a fight I got into with this chick in middle school. I broke her nose. It was a pretty funny memory. That's really it. Somebody else go."
Everyone looked at me. I began to sweat. I thought for a moment and gave in.
"Fine I'll do it"
Slowly I take the crystal looking memory drug and crushed it. I stared at it for a moment and went down and let it travel through my nose.
I woke up and everyone was looking at me.
"What did you see?"
I was so pissed.
"Yeah, It didn't work. Everything was black. I'm just gonna go home"
| "I promise you'll like it, Bran."
I shake my head vigorously. No way I would be tricked into drugs, especially some unknown one.
"Just once bran, please. It's on me."
This time, I just glared at her, asking her if I was an idiot through my unamused gaze. If Rebecca was this desperate to get me high on this thing, then it would probably mean more than trouble- anything she was into would spell trouble. After seeing her visibly give up, I wandered to
To one of the cocktail stands and poured myself a drink. Drowsily, I noted that the waitresses that had been serving the drinks had meandered off somewhere, and regretted that Rebecca had dragged me off before I'd gotten a word with that red-haired one. I hoped she would come back soon...
The world lost all balance, and I collapsed. I tried to ask for help, but my throat was dry.
Fuck. Rebecca had spiked the drinks.
After what seemed like a long time, I awakened to the sight of a concrete-grey sky matching the colour of the roof. As my body raised itself, my muscles complained and my neck felt in need of a good cracking. However, apparently I ignored the sensation and forged onwards.
"That's surprising", I thought to myself. Wasn't that drug Rebecca told. Me about meant to make me recall a memory? I don't remember this at all...
As my dilemma confused me, the memory-me narrowed his eyes and quickened his pace. His breathing became ragged, and I could feel my heart being ripped in two, a deep, penetrating pain grasping my being.
Bt what finally tipped it off was what I was holding. A knife.
I tried to stop myself as I turned the corner. I screamed at my body to stop, but it wouldn't listen. It was only a memory.
And then, the most 'real' thing within the memory happened. I saw Rebecca.
And I stabbed her.
I felt the cold splash of water as the memory ended, and before I could open my eyes, I heard a voice.
"Do you remember now?"
And that's the story of how I died. |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | At first when I heard about it, I was afraid. I knew I just had to try it. It's all the rage. It's been dubbed as "Better than LSD," "More fun than anything you've ever had before," and so on. But I was going to be the judge of that. I called up my dealer, Todd. He said he just got some, was selling it at a pretty steep price. I cut a deal, and we were going to meet in an hour at the usual spot.
I arrived, and Todd was about to light some up himself. He gave me a small bag of a light blue, almost teal, substance. I forgot my lighter at home, so I had to borrow Todd's. The two of us rolled this stuff like cigarettes, and started smoking. Immediately I was back in my childhood home.
I had no idea how old I was, or what this was. I was sitting in my room, but it wasn't me. I felt as if I was a ghost, floating above myself, staring down, judging. Like that feeling you get when you think somebody's watching you. Except this time, you are actually watching.
I heard a banging at the door, and my former self snapped straight to it, with a face of fear on his, or my, face. I watched as my father slammed open the door, belt in one hand, beer in the other. I watched as I backed into the corner of my room, near to my old closet. I remember the door being broken later in my life. Was this why?
My father grew closer and closer. And with each step, I shuddered. I was so afraid. But why? My father was never aggressive, as far as I remember. Hell, I don't even remember who my dad was. Which helped me to realize that I must have been at most 14 years old when this happened. Although my interpretation of time isn't my strongest point.
My father was right over me now. I wasn't sure what would come first, the empty bottle or the belt. I was crouched in the corner, bracing for what could be the worst pain a child could feel. With myself looking away, I couldn't see what it was that brought with it the most horrible pain I'd ever felt in my life. I watched myself slouch over.
I opened my eyes to a crowd of spectators and a hospital crew. Todd had shook me awake. I looked around, gathered my surroundings, and tried to stand myself up. But why can't I move anymore? I'm staring straight at Todd, but I'm stuck. I stared at Todd, screaming for help. The EMTs had grabbed me, and put me in the ambulance while running so many tests on me. But couldn't they see I was awake? I'm right here, dammit! Why are you doing this? I'm OK!
They ignored me. I stopped screaming, I was wasting my time. I was just going to have to deal with this shit, and I could get on with my day. But then I saw my mother was there. Why was she here? I'm OK, and how did she even know where I was? How did they call her here so fast? I was only out for a few minutes. And now why is she crying? What is going on? Somebody, please, why?!
As the ambulance doors shut, I noticed that I wasn't in good shape. I had a mask over my face, tubes everywhere, and I felt like I was going to pass out. I reached for the phone. I needed to call Jackie. She needs to know I'm OK. But then I heard it again. The crying from the corner. Except this time, it wasn't my own. I caught a glimpse of my mother, Jackie, and Daisy in the corner of the room. But when did I get in this room? When did that phone I had just reached out for appear? And what happened to the ambulance doors?
A doctor walked in. I knew I was in trouble, but I recognized this place now. It was a hospital. More specifically, it was the hospital room where I was. I watched as the doctor spoke softly. Why was he speaking so low? I watched his mouth move, and heard a faint whisper that I couldn't quite make out. Then I watched as the crying grew louder and more frantic. I began to cry. But why are there no tears?
Around now it finally dawned on me. Am I dead? Why can't I use my own body? All I could do was sit there and watch, as my loved ones just watched me. A month passed. Then another. I noticed time passing faster and faster, and my senses growing less respondent. I wanted so desperately to wake up from this nightmare. I never asked for this. I never wanted any of this. I watched Jackie's visits become less and less frequent. If only she knew what kind of affect she had on me when she was around. Her visits where the highlights of my short periods of consciousness.
I looked at the clock. The hands were spinning. Hours became seconds. Days went by in the blink of an eye. When suddenly, it all stopped. The clock slowed down to normal time, and I could move again. I sat myself up, and looked around. I was alone. But I wasn't in the hospital anymore. Now I was sitting back in my room. I looked at my side, and Jackie was there, sleeping.
I got out of bed slowly. I didn't want to wake her. I walked into the kitchen, sat down, and started bawling. Why did it have to be that? I'd heard stories of people reliving their first vacation, their first time, the moment they were born even. Why did I have to get the coma? I looked at the table, and saw the picture of myself, my mother, and Jackie. It must have been after the coma. I had a large plump of hair missing on the right side of my head, just above my ear. If it had been just an inch lower, I'd be half deaf right now. Damn was I lucky.
I started heading back to the bedroom, I had work in the morning and I needed all the sleep I could get. I don't even know why I decided to try this stuff, I stopped my drug habits when I was 20. But I was told that this was THE thing. I should never have trusted Todd. Not after last time. I crawled back into bed with Jackie, and checked the clock. 2 AM. At least I can get a few hours of sleep before work in the morning. I, no, we left it all behind for a reason. And after this experience, I was never going back.
---------------------------
Very much enjoyed this prompt. I haven't written like that in a long time, felt good. Thanks OP! | "I promise you'll like it, Bran."
I shake my head vigorously. No way I would be tricked into drugs, especially some unknown one.
"Just once bran, please. It's on me."
This time, I just glared at her, asking her if I was an idiot through my unamused gaze. If Rebecca was this desperate to get me high on this thing, then it would probably mean more than trouble- anything she was into would spell trouble. After seeing her visibly give up, I wandered to
To one of the cocktail stands and poured myself a drink. Drowsily, I noted that the waitresses that had been serving the drinks had meandered off somewhere, and regretted that Rebecca had dragged me off before I'd gotten a word with that red-haired one. I hoped she would come back soon...
The world lost all balance, and I collapsed. I tried to ask for help, but my throat was dry.
Fuck. Rebecca had spiked the drinks.
After what seemed like a long time, I awakened to the sight of a concrete-grey sky matching the colour of the roof. As my body raised itself, my muscles complained and my neck felt in need of a good cracking. However, apparently I ignored the sensation and forged onwards.
"That's surprising", I thought to myself. Wasn't that drug Rebecca told. Me about meant to make me recall a memory? I don't remember this at all...
As my dilemma confused me, the memory-me narrowed his eyes and quickened his pace. His breathing became ragged, and I could feel my heart being ripped in two, a deep, penetrating pain grasping my being.
Bt what finally tipped it off was what I was holding. A knife.
I tried to stop myself as I turned the corner. I screamed at my body to stop, but it wouldn't listen. It was only a memory.
And then, the most 'real' thing within the memory happened. I saw Rebecca.
And I stabbed her.
I felt the cold splash of water as the memory ended, and before I could open my eyes, I heard a voice.
"Do you remember now?"
And that's the story of how I died. |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Hey man, you wana try this shit? I got it from a friend who works down in Texas. Says they shoot it over the border fence late at night. It's called Memory Lane or some shit like that. He says it lets you relive part of your life with abso-fucking-lutely prefect recall. It's like you're **THERE**."
"How much?"
The dealer shrugs, "first hit's free, ya know?"
"Hell yea. Man, there was this girl once, back in Cali? God she was the whole package. Smart, funny, a surfer's body -- you ever hook up with one of those surfer chicks? Hours of swimming **do things** to a womans body. KnowwhatImsaying? Hand that shit over."
A small glass vial changes hands, the liquid inside bending the sodium glow of the city's old industrial street lamps into figments and ghosts upon the cracked concrete of the skate park.
"Two drops in each eye. Yea, just lean your head back and... yea. Ok. You might wana lie down."
The dealer cradled his friends head in his hands as the drug took hold. The effect was always the same -- the pupils open like pits as the eyelids flutter shut. The legs kick: once, twice, and then stiffen before melting slowly into a pronounced torpor.
And then, stillness. In the distance an ambulance siren whoops, barely discernable above the neon buzz of the dry-cleaner's cracking yellow sign.
He wakes to the rhythmic thuds of the 11:10 train, northbound, on the tracks above.
"Well? How was it? Shit's amazing right? Did you see the girl? Maybe your dad or that car you wrecked in high school? The memory is random so it could have been anything but the more you try the more likely you are to get a good one. I'll cut you a deal on the whole case if you..."
"Did you know we spend 1/3 of our lives asleep?"
"I.... well shit." | Amanda considered herself fairly successful in life. She just bought a brand new car and qualified for a mortgage without her dad being a consigner. She knew if she had to rely on him for his credit, she wouldn't have qualified, But that wasn't his fault. That was Terry's fault.
Amanda hadn't spoken to Terry in 5 years and 10 months. She celebrated the last phone conversation every year with a nice bottle of wine and her fiancé Jamaal. Terry didn't get to meet Jamaal. That last conversation occurred just after Amanda and Jamaal started dating.
The phone rang.
"Amanda, it's your dad."
"I know dad. I know it's you. You're the only one that calls me from this number."
"Okay good. I just didn't want you to think that I was your mother," he said. "She asked me to talk to you again."
"She doesn't need to apologize to me. She needs to apologize to you," Amanda said sternly.
They had this conversation a hundred times and the conversation laid itself out verbatim every time. As far as Amanda was concerned she forgave Terry too many times and allowed her to take advantage of her even more often. She was through with her. The rest of the family could deal with we lies and deceit.
He gave up.
"Anyway, have you two decided on a date for the wedding?"
This conversation was more enjoyable.
"You know dad, I can't really talk right now. Do you mind if I call you tomorrow? We've got some friends coming over for dinner and I need still need to start the lamb."
"No problem sweetheart. I'll talk to you tomorrow. I love you."
"Love you too dad."
Amanda had told a white lie. Her friends were coming over with this new drug. Amanda did mushrooms once and it wasn't terrible. And she was super curious to see what memories would float up. She had a decent memory already but was curious.
Alex was the one who brought over "memory lane." It looked like aspirin.
"I'm kind of nervous. What happens if I have a bad trip?" Amanda asked.
"Don't worry babe, I'm here."
"You have to go deep for bad ones," Alex explained.
Amanda thought 'fuck it. Here goes nothing.' She leaned back on the microfiber couch and thought 'god this couch really is nice, I'm glad Jamaal...'
She was looking at some pineapples in the produce section. It was the first time she had seen a pineapple. Terry walked up to her, "do you want it?"
"Really mommy?!"
"Sure. We'll bring it to the birthday party. The twins are from Hawaii. I'm sure they haven't had a pineapple since moving here."
Amanda was excited. She was in her childhood home. She was in Kansas. 400 miles away from anything but corn. The twins were having their ninth birthday party and all the kids were going. It was a sleepover. Amanda was more excited, 'they're going to love this pineapple.'
Unfortunately, the pineapple was rotten inside. It had been sitting in the grocery store for too long so no one got to enjoy it, but Amanda ate cake and ran around the room. Finally it was time for bed. Amanda went to bed in the girls room and the boys were in their room. But she had to go to the bathroom.
It was dark and she couldn't remember which door was the bathroom. She pushed open a door and there was naked Terry bent over with the twins' dad behind her fucking her senseless while she begged for more.
...
Amanda shot up.
"This is fucking bullshit. What a waste of fucking money."
"What?!" Alex asked.
"I thought this shit was going to give me a long forgotten memory but it gives me the one fucking memory I can't forget. Fuck you Alex. Fuck this shit." Amanda kept yelling at Alex and Jamaal.
Amanda stormed out. She called her dad.
"Terry is a fucking slut. All the men she cheated on you with. All the times she abandoned us when we were kids. All the money she stole from you. What the fuck is wrong with you dad? How can you look at that piece of shit every single day? You deserve better. You deserve someone that loves you and respects you.."
At this point she was crying and yelling at her father. He was silent on the phone.
She finally calmed down.
"I'm sorry dad. I just want the best for you. You're such a great person and I just wish you had someone in life who supported you. Imagine how much easier life would have been if you had a woman in your life that supported you."
He said the same thing he always said, "she's the mother if my children."
He finally asked her, "is everything alright?"
"Yeah Dad, I think I just had too much wine and I got a little emotional. I should go to bed."
"Alright sweetheart. Sleep well. I love you."
"I love you too, Dad." |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "It's called Memory Lane. It takes you back to a moment in your life, and let's you relive it like it is actually happening. Everything feels the same. Sights, smells, touch, feelings, and emotions. It's an amazing sensation." She rattled on and on, but I wasn't convinced.
"Why would anyone want to relive past moments?" I sure as hell wouldn't. My life has been full of pain and sorrow, so much so that I can barely remember any happy memories.
"Are you KIDDING me? You can experience anything and everything for the first time again. You can remember great moments again and again." Her eyes became brighter and brighter as she continued to list all the amazing things ML does for people.
I still wasn't convinced, but I thought "Fuck it... I'll do one." I inhaled a spray of ML from an inhaler. I was instantly transported back 16 years...but I couldn't move, or speak on my own accord. I was literally in the moment, in control of nothing, an observer in my own body.
"Wait..." I thought, "I know where I am. I know when I am...no...NO." I was there, in Philadelphia, on July 8th, 1999. The night before my father died. "No...I can't do this again. I just...can't." I pleaded with myself, somehow thinking if I begged my brain hard enough the memory would change. I knew once I went to sleep I'd be awoken by my frantic mother. I knew I'd have to relive the moment of frivolous attempting CPR on my father's lifeless body. I'd relive the moment when I lashed out at the ER doctor when he told me my father was dead. Wake up...please wake up. Snap out of this...
I didnt wake up, and my memory of this night became clearer to me. I knew what was going to happen next. I watched as my body got up from its seat and moved out into the living room. As I turned the corner I saw him... "Happy birthday Dad! I know I don't say this often, but I love you." My heart broke...I should have said it more often to him.
"It's OK, son. I was 17 once too. I know you do." I heard my father's voice, for the first time in 16 years, say. I had forgotten what his voice sounded like...
"Thanks pops..." I felt my body plop down next to him on the couch, and give him a hug. I had forgotten how he smelled like Brut aftershave. I had forgotten how safe I felt in his embrace. I had forgotten a lot of things.
"You know what, son... I'm glad we had a chance this year to get closer. I know I spent too much time focused on your older brother when you both were growing up. I'm sorry for that." My father lamented. What the hell...? I don't remember this at all.
"Dad...my brother got your time because of baseball, but that's about all he got. I got your time for movies, arcades, libraries, museums, whatever I wanted to do. It may have not been all that much time, but it was always more than enough." I heard myself say, but didn't believe it. I don't remember this conversation. I don't remember my father apologizing to me for not doing enough. He always did more than enough...
"Well, kid, when you have your own children learn from my mistake. Spend as much time with each of them as possible. You never know when time will run out." He said with a smile and lighthearted chuckle.
We sat and watched TV, as we did 16 years ago. We cracked jokes, we poked fun at each other, and we channel surfed...just like we did that fateful day. I never knew the happiest moment of my life was just sitting and watching TV with my dad on his birthday, until now.
Then everything went black.
"How was it?" I heard a familiar voice ask. "What memory did you have??" It was my friend.
"I...I went back to the night before my dad died."
"OH MY GOD...I'm so sorry. I forgot to tell you that ML picks a random memory. I never had to relive anything horrific before..."
"No...actually...it was good. I got to see my dad again. I got to hear something he said back then that I completely forgot about. I...I... thank you. I've always said I'd give anything in this world to spend one more moment with him. So...thank you."
I packed up my things and got ready to leave. "Where are you going?" She asked.
"I'm going home to be with my kids." | Amanda considered herself fairly successful in life. She just bought a brand new car and qualified for a mortgage without her dad being a consigner. She knew if she had to rely on him for his credit, she wouldn't have qualified, But that wasn't his fault. That was Terry's fault.
Amanda hadn't spoken to Terry in 5 years and 10 months. She celebrated the last phone conversation every year with a nice bottle of wine and her fiancé Jamaal. Terry didn't get to meet Jamaal. That last conversation occurred just after Amanda and Jamaal started dating.
The phone rang.
"Amanda, it's your dad."
"I know dad. I know it's you. You're the only one that calls me from this number."
"Okay good. I just didn't want you to think that I was your mother," he said. "She asked me to talk to you again."
"She doesn't need to apologize to me. She needs to apologize to you," Amanda said sternly.
They had this conversation a hundred times and the conversation laid itself out verbatim every time. As far as Amanda was concerned she forgave Terry too many times and allowed her to take advantage of her even more often. She was through with her. The rest of the family could deal with we lies and deceit.
He gave up.
"Anyway, have you two decided on a date for the wedding?"
This conversation was more enjoyable.
"You know dad, I can't really talk right now. Do you mind if I call you tomorrow? We've got some friends coming over for dinner and I need still need to start the lamb."
"No problem sweetheart. I'll talk to you tomorrow. I love you."
"Love you too dad."
Amanda had told a white lie. Her friends were coming over with this new drug. Amanda did mushrooms once and it wasn't terrible. And she was super curious to see what memories would float up. She had a decent memory already but was curious.
Alex was the one who brought over "memory lane." It looked like aspirin.
"I'm kind of nervous. What happens if I have a bad trip?" Amanda asked.
"Don't worry babe, I'm here."
"You have to go deep for bad ones," Alex explained.
Amanda thought 'fuck it. Here goes nothing.' She leaned back on the microfiber couch and thought 'god this couch really is nice, I'm glad Jamaal...'
She was looking at some pineapples in the produce section. It was the first time she had seen a pineapple. Terry walked up to her, "do you want it?"
"Really mommy?!"
"Sure. We'll bring it to the birthday party. The twins are from Hawaii. I'm sure they haven't had a pineapple since moving here."
Amanda was excited. She was in her childhood home. She was in Kansas. 400 miles away from anything but corn. The twins were having their ninth birthday party and all the kids were going. It was a sleepover. Amanda was more excited, 'they're going to love this pineapple.'
Unfortunately, the pineapple was rotten inside. It had been sitting in the grocery store for too long so no one got to enjoy it, but Amanda ate cake and ran around the room. Finally it was time for bed. Amanda went to bed in the girls room and the boys were in their room. But she had to go to the bathroom.
It was dark and she couldn't remember which door was the bathroom. She pushed open a door and there was naked Terry bent over with the twins' dad behind her fucking her senseless while she begged for more.
...
Amanda shot up.
"This is fucking bullshit. What a waste of fucking money."
"What?!" Alex asked.
"I thought this shit was going to give me a long forgotten memory but it gives me the one fucking memory I can't forget. Fuck you Alex. Fuck this shit." Amanda kept yelling at Alex and Jamaal.
Amanda stormed out. She called her dad.
"Terry is a fucking slut. All the men she cheated on you with. All the times she abandoned us when we were kids. All the money she stole from you. What the fuck is wrong with you dad? How can you look at that piece of shit every single day? You deserve better. You deserve someone that loves you and respects you.."
At this point she was crying and yelling at her father. He was silent on the phone.
She finally calmed down.
"I'm sorry dad. I just want the best for you. You're such a great person and I just wish you had someone in life who supported you. Imagine how much easier life would have been if you had a woman in your life that supported you."
He said the same thing he always said, "she's the mother if my children."
He finally asked her, "is everything alright?"
"Yeah Dad, I think I just had too much wine and I got a little emotional. I should go to bed."
"Alright sweetheart. Sleep well. I love you."
"I love you too, Dad." |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
Inhale. Just like he told me, I hold my breath. I let it fill my lungs. I let the drug take over. Clouds of past memories filled my mind, nothing clear yet, as if the drug was slowly walking down memory lane, looking into doors of each memory, but not yet committing to one. Eventually, though, it stops, choosing a door, a memory, a decision based completly randomly. I hope its a good one. Exhale.
I pass out.
"Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
I wake up.
"Well, how was it?" Joe asks. | Amanda considered herself fairly successful in life. She just bought a brand new car and qualified for a mortgage without her dad being a consigner. She knew if she had to rely on him for his credit, she wouldn't have qualified, But that wasn't his fault. That was Terry's fault.
Amanda hadn't spoken to Terry in 5 years and 10 months. She celebrated the last phone conversation every year with a nice bottle of wine and her fiancé Jamaal. Terry didn't get to meet Jamaal. That last conversation occurred just after Amanda and Jamaal started dating.
The phone rang.
"Amanda, it's your dad."
"I know dad. I know it's you. You're the only one that calls me from this number."
"Okay good. I just didn't want you to think that I was your mother," he said. "She asked me to talk to you again."
"She doesn't need to apologize to me. She needs to apologize to you," Amanda said sternly.
They had this conversation a hundred times and the conversation laid itself out verbatim every time. As far as Amanda was concerned she forgave Terry too many times and allowed her to take advantage of her even more often. She was through with her. The rest of the family could deal with we lies and deceit.
He gave up.
"Anyway, have you two decided on a date for the wedding?"
This conversation was more enjoyable.
"You know dad, I can't really talk right now. Do you mind if I call you tomorrow? We've got some friends coming over for dinner and I need still need to start the lamb."
"No problem sweetheart. I'll talk to you tomorrow. I love you."
"Love you too dad."
Amanda had told a white lie. Her friends were coming over with this new drug. Amanda did mushrooms once and it wasn't terrible. And she was super curious to see what memories would float up. She had a decent memory already but was curious.
Alex was the one who brought over "memory lane." It looked like aspirin.
"I'm kind of nervous. What happens if I have a bad trip?" Amanda asked.
"Don't worry babe, I'm here."
"You have to go deep for bad ones," Alex explained.
Amanda thought 'fuck it. Here goes nothing.' She leaned back on the microfiber couch and thought 'god this couch really is nice, I'm glad Jamaal...'
She was looking at some pineapples in the produce section. It was the first time she had seen a pineapple. Terry walked up to her, "do you want it?"
"Really mommy?!"
"Sure. We'll bring it to the birthday party. The twins are from Hawaii. I'm sure they haven't had a pineapple since moving here."
Amanda was excited. She was in her childhood home. She was in Kansas. 400 miles away from anything but corn. The twins were having their ninth birthday party and all the kids were going. It was a sleepover. Amanda was more excited, 'they're going to love this pineapple.'
Unfortunately, the pineapple was rotten inside. It had been sitting in the grocery store for too long so no one got to enjoy it, but Amanda ate cake and ran around the room. Finally it was time for bed. Amanda went to bed in the girls room and the boys were in their room. But she had to go to the bathroom.
It was dark and she couldn't remember which door was the bathroom. She pushed open a door and there was naked Terry bent over with the twins' dad behind her fucking her senseless while she begged for more.
...
Amanda shot up.
"This is fucking bullshit. What a waste of fucking money."
"What?!" Alex asked.
"I thought this shit was going to give me a long forgotten memory but it gives me the one fucking memory I can't forget. Fuck you Alex. Fuck this shit." Amanda kept yelling at Alex and Jamaal.
Amanda stormed out. She called her dad.
"Terry is a fucking slut. All the men she cheated on you with. All the times she abandoned us when we were kids. All the money she stole from you. What the fuck is wrong with you dad? How can you look at that piece of shit every single day? You deserve better. You deserve someone that loves you and respects you.."
At this point she was crying and yelling at her father. He was silent on the phone.
She finally calmed down.
"I'm sorry dad. I just want the best for you. You're such a great person and I just wish you had someone in life who supported you. Imagine how much easier life would have been if you had a woman in your life that supported you."
He said the same thing he always said, "she's the mother if my children."
He finally asked her, "is everything alright?"
"Yeah Dad, I think I just had too much wine and I got a little emotional. I should go to bed."
"Alright sweetheart. Sleep well. I love you."
"I love you too, Dad." |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Hey man, you wana try this shit? I got it from a friend who works down in Texas. Says they shoot it over the border fence late at night. It's called Memory Lane or some shit like that. He says it lets you relive part of your life with abso-fucking-lutely prefect recall. It's like you're **THERE**."
"How much?"
The dealer shrugs, "first hit's free, ya know?"
"Hell yea. Man, there was this girl once, back in Cali? God she was the whole package. Smart, funny, a surfer's body -- you ever hook up with one of those surfer chicks? Hours of swimming **do things** to a womans body. KnowwhatImsaying? Hand that shit over."
A small glass vial changes hands, the liquid inside bending the sodium glow of the city's old industrial street lamps into figments and ghosts upon the cracked concrete of the skate park.
"Two drops in each eye. Yea, just lean your head back and... yea. Ok. You might wana lie down."
The dealer cradled his friends head in his hands as the drug took hold. The effect was always the same -- the pupils open like pits as the eyelids flutter shut. The legs kick: once, twice, and then stiffen before melting slowly into a pronounced torpor.
And then, stillness. In the distance an ambulance siren whoops, barely discernable above the neon buzz of the dry-cleaner's cracking yellow sign.
He wakes to the rhythmic thuds of the 11:10 train, northbound, on the tracks above.
"Well? How was it? Shit's amazing right? Did you see the girl? Maybe your dad or that car you wrecked in high school? The memory is random so it could have been anything but the more you try the more likely you are to get a good one. I'll cut you a deal on the whole case if you..."
"Did you know we spend 1/3 of our lives asleep?"
"I.... well shit." | I stumble outta the bar with this shady motherfucker in a hoodie.
"Fuck it, how much?"
"Ten bucks."
"Alright, shit, here, lemme get one."
I give the dude a ten and check my phone. It's just after midnight. I'm feelin' pretty fucked up already. I started drinking early. Had nothing better to do today, I mean, I never really have nothin' better to do. Whatever I just wanna check out for a while. I've never tried Mem before but had a couple buddies say it was crazy as shit. I guess it's called 'memory lane' cuz it takes you back to one of your own memories. Heh. What a fuckin' trip. Yea, that's exactly what I want right now. I just wanna get outta here, fuck off back to a happier time. Well here's hoping it's happier, I guess I won't know till it kicks in, could be any memory, don't get to choose. But fuck it, anything's better than this shit. Bottom's up...
I down the little vile and start walking home. Dude says it takes about twenty minutes to kick in. Cool, I pop on my headphones and start to cut through the park. Deftones "My Own Summer" comes on, heh, that'll do. I'm still feelin' buzzed, walkin' quick. The night air is crisp and the music...yea, I'm feelin' pretty fuckin' tight. All the sudden, I feel my headphones yanked off and the music cuts out. What the fuck??
"Where the fuck you goin' punk?"
SMACK!(!!?&?!!!!) Knuckles to my face. Red hot pain, my eyes shut and I see black. SHIT. "What the fuuuck?!?" I shout. Someone grabs my head with one hand and pulls me back into him, choking me with the other arm. "Auuugh.." I try to scream. Nothing comes out just the sound of gurgling on my own spit. I fall to the ground. Knee to the face. FUCK! Again. I keel over. Pain, so much pain. Kick to my stomach. Again. Again. Fuck. I can't. I can't, it's too much. I feel hands on me, going through my pockets. Fuck, no. I try to move but can't Auuugh, fuuuuuck!! I feel something dripping down my face, what is that?? I put my hand on my head, it's all slick. Hair matted. Shit, must be blood. Fuck. "Hey." I try to call out, it comes out like a whimper. "Hee..elp." I can only manage a tortured whisper. Shit. It fucking hurts. My side, fuck, I think my rib is broken. I reach down, fuck. Something's poking out of my side. Is that my fucking rib?? Somebody please fucking help me. Oh shit, I start to feel weird, oh god, it hurts. Searing pain all over, but then, something else, I feel FUCKING weird. Oh thank fuck, I think the Mem's kicking in, get me the fuck outta here. Please! I pass out. Darkness...
Woah. I stumble outta the bar with this shady motherfucker in a hoodie... |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "It's called Memory Lane. It takes you back to a moment in your life, and let's you relive it like it is actually happening. Everything feels the same. Sights, smells, touch, feelings, and emotions. It's an amazing sensation." She rattled on and on, but I wasn't convinced.
"Why would anyone want to relive past moments?" I sure as hell wouldn't. My life has been full of pain and sorrow, so much so that I can barely remember any happy memories.
"Are you KIDDING me? You can experience anything and everything for the first time again. You can remember great moments again and again." Her eyes became brighter and brighter as she continued to list all the amazing things ML does for people.
I still wasn't convinced, but I thought "Fuck it... I'll do one." I inhaled a spray of ML from an inhaler. I was instantly transported back 16 years...but I couldn't move, or speak on my own accord. I was literally in the moment, in control of nothing, an observer in my own body.
"Wait..." I thought, "I know where I am. I know when I am...no...NO." I was there, in Philadelphia, on July 8th, 1999. The night before my father died. "No...I can't do this again. I just...can't." I pleaded with myself, somehow thinking if I begged my brain hard enough the memory would change. I knew once I went to sleep I'd be awoken by my frantic mother. I knew I'd have to relive the moment of frivolous attempting CPR on my father's lifeless body. I'd relive the moment when I lashed out at the ER doctor when he told me my father was dead. Wake up...please wake up. Snap out of this...
I didnt wake up, and my memory of this night became clearer to me. I knew what was going to happen next. I watched as my body got up from its seat and moved out into the living room. As I turned the corner I saw him... "Happy birthday Dad! I know I don't say this often, but I love you." My heart broke...I should have said it more often to him.
"It's OK, son. I was 17 once too. I know you do." I heard my father's voice, for the first time in 16 years, say. I had forgotten what his voice sounded like...
"Thanks pops..." I felt my body plop down next to him on the couch, and give him a hug. I had forgotten how he smelled like Brut aftershave. I had forgotten how safe I felt in his embrace. I had forgotten a lot of things.
"You know what, son... I'm glad we had a chance this year to get closer. I know I spent too much time focused on your older brother when you both were growing up. I'm sorry for that." My father lamented. What the hell...? I don't remember this at all.
"Dad...my brother got your time because of baseball, but that's about all he got. I got your time for movies, arcades, libraries, museums, whatever I wanted to do. It may have not been all that much time, but it was always more than enough." I heard myself say, but didn't believe it. I don't remember this conversation. I don't remember my father apologizing to me for not doing enough. He always did more than enough...
"Well, kid, when you have your own children learn from my mistake. Spend as much time with each of them as possible. You never know when time will run out." He said with a smile and lighthearted chuckle.
We sat and watched TV, as we did 16 years ago. We cracked jokes, we poked fun at each other, and we channel surfed...just like we did that fateful day. I never knew the happiest moment of my life was just sitting and watching TV with my dad on his birthday, until now.
Then everything went black.
"How was it?" I heard a familiar voice ask. "What memory did you have??" It was my friend.
"I...I went back to the night before my dad died."
"OH MY GOD...I'm so sorry. I forgot to tell you that ML picks a random memory. I never had to relive anything horrific before..."
"No...actually...it was good. I got to see my dad again. I got to hear something he said back then that I completely forgot about. I...I... thank you. I've always said I'd give anything in this world to spend one more moment with him. So...thank you."
I packed up my things and got ready to leave. "Where are you going?" She asked.
"I'm going home to be with my kids." | I stumble outta the bar with this shady motherfucker in a hoodie.
"Fuck it, how much?"
"Ten bucks."
"Alright, shit, here, lemme get one."
I give the dude a ten and check my phone. It's just after midnight. I'm feelin' pretty fucked up already. I started drinking early. Had nothing better to do today, I mean, I never really have nothin' better to do. Whatever I just wanna check out for a while. I've never tried Mem before but had a couple buddies say it was crazy as shit. I guess it's called 'memory lane' cuz it takes you back to one of your own memories. Heh. What a fuckin' trip. Yea, that's exactly what I want right now. I just wanna get outta here, fuck off back to a happier time. Well here's hoping it's happier, I guess I won't know till it kicks in, could be any memory, don't get to choose. But fuck it, anything's better than this shit. Bottom's up...
I down the little vile and start walking home. Dude says it takes about twenty minutes to kick in. Cool, I pop on my headphones and start to cut through the park. Deftones "My Own Summer" comes on, heh, that'll do. I'm still feelin' buzzed, walkin' quick. The night air is crisp and the music...yea, I'm feelin' pretty fuckin' tight. All the sudden, I feel my headphones yanked off and the music cuts out. What the fuck??
"Where the fuck you goin' punk?"
SMACK!(!!?&?!!!!) Knuckles to my face. Red hot pain, my eyes shut and I see black. SHIT. "What the fuuuck?!?" I shout. Someone grabs my head with one hand and pulls me back into him, choking me with the other arm. "Auuugh.." I try to scream. Nothing comes out just the sound of gurgling on my own spit. I fall to the ground. Knee to the face. FUCK! Again. I keel over. Pain, so much pain. Kick to my stomach. Again. Again. Fuck. I can't. I can't, it's too much. I feel hands on me, going through my pockets. Fuck, no. I try to move but can't Auuugh, fuuuuuck!! I feel something dripping down my face, what is that?? I put my hand on my head, it's all slick. Hair matted. Shit, must be blood. Fuck. "Hey." I try to call out, it comes out like a whimper. "Hee..elp." I can only manage a tortured whisper. Shit. It fucking hurts. My side, fuck, I think my rib is broken. I reach down, fuck. Something's poking out of my side. Is that my fucking rib?? Somebody please fucking help me. Oh shit, I start to feel weird, oh god, it hurts. Searing pain all over, but then, something else, I feel FUCKING weird. Oh thank fuck, I think the Mem's kicking in, get me the fuck outta here. Please! I pass out. Darkness...
Woah. I stumble outta the bar with this shady motherfucker in a hoodie... |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
Inhale. Just like he told me, I hold my breath. I let it fill my lungs. I let the drug take over. Clouds of past memories filled my mind, nothing clear yet, as if the drug was slowly walking down memory lane, looking into doors of each memory, but not yet committing to one. Eventually, though, it stops, choosing a door, a memory, a decision based completly randomly. I hope its a good one. Exhale.
I pass out.
"Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
I wake up.
"Well, how was it?" Joe asks. | I stumble outta the bar with this shady motherfucker in a hoodie.
"Fuck it, how much?"
"Ten bucks."
"Alright, shit, here, lemme get one."
I give the dude a ten and check my phone. It's just after midnight. I'm feelin' pretty fucked up already. I started drinking early. Had nothing better to do today, I mean, I never really have nothin' better to do. Whatever I just wanna check out for a while. I've never tried Mem before but had a couple buddies say it was crazy as shit. I guess it's called 'memory lane' cuz it takes you back to one of your own memories. Heh. What a fuckin' trip. Yea, that's exactly what I want right now. I just wanna get outta here, fuck off back to a happier time. Well here's hoping it's happier, I guess I won't know till it kicks in, could be any memory, don't get to choose. But fuck it, anything's better than this shit. Bottom's up...
I down the little vile and start walking home. Dude says it takes about twenty minutes to kick in. Cool, I pop on my headphones and start to cut through the park. Deftones "My Own Summer" comes on, heh, that'll do. I'm still feelin' buzzed, walkin' quick. The night air is crisp and the music...yea, I'm feelin' pretty fuckin' tight. All the sudden, I feel my headphones yanked off and the music cuts out. What the fuck??
"Where the fuck you goin' punk?"
SMACK!(!!?&?!!!!) Knuckles to my face. Red hot pain, my eyes shut and I see black. SHIT. "What the fuuuck?!?" I shout. Someone grabs my head with one hand and pulls me back into him, choking me with the other arm. "Auuugh.." I try to scream. Nothing comes out just the sound of gurgling on my own spit. I fall to the ground. Knee to the face. FUCK! Again. I keel over. Pain, so much pain. Kick to my stomach. Again. Again. Fuck. I can't. I can't, it's too much. I feel hands on me, going through my pockets. Fuck, no. I try to move but can't Auuugh, fuuuuuck!! I feel something dripping down my face, what is that?? I put my hand on my head, it's all slick. Hair matted. Shit, must be blood. Fuck. "Hey." I try to call out, it comes out like a whimper. "Hee..elp." I can only manage a tortured whisper. Shit. It fucking hurts. My side, fuck, I think my rib is broken. I reach down, fuck. Something's poking out of my side. Is that my fucking rib?? Somebody please fucking help me. Oh shit, I start to feel weird, oh god, it hurts. Searing pain all over, but then, something else, I feel FUCKING weird. Oh thank fuck, I think the Mem's kicking in, get me the fuck outta here. Please! I pass out. Darkness...
Woah. I stumble outta the bar with this shady motherfucker in a hoodie... |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Hey man, you wana try this shit? I got it from a friend who works down in Texas. Says they shoot it over the border fence late at night. It's called Memory Lane or some shit like that. He says it lets you relive part of your life with abso-fucking-lutely prefect recall. It's like you're **THERE**."
"How much?"
The dealer shrugs, "first hit's free, ya know?"
"Hell yea. Man, there was this girl once, back in Cali? God she was the whole package. Smart, funny, a surfer's body -- you ever hook up with one of those surfer chicks? Hours of swimming **do things** to a womans body. KnowwhatImsaying? Hand that shit over."
A small glass vial changes hands, the liquid inside bending the sodium glow of the city's old industrial street lamps into figments and ghosts upon the cracked concrete of the skate park.
"Two drops in each eye. Yea, just lean your head back and... yea. Ok. You might wana lie down."
The dealer cradled his friends head in his hands as the drug took hold. The effect was always the same -- the pupils open like pits as the eyelids flutter shut. The legs kick: once, twice, and then stiffen before melting slowly into a pronounced torpor.
And then, stillness. In the distance an ambulance siren whoops, barely discernable above the neon buzz of the dry-cleaner's cracking yellow sign.
He wakes to the rhythmic thuds of the 11:10 train, northbound, on the tracks above.
"Well? How was it? Shit's amazing right? Did you see the girl? Maybe your dad or that car you wrecked in high school? The memory is random so it could have been anything but the more you try the more likely you are to get a good one. I'll cut you a deal on the whole case if you..."
"Did you know we spend 1/3 of our lives asleep?"
"I.... well shit." | I half-stumble half-walk over to my tattered lay-z boy chair, the bottle of whiskey clinking as I set it down on the table. I sigh as I sit down, glancing at my reflection in the glass next to me. Damn... Not looking too good. My permanently sardonic eyes remind me that I'm certainly past the age where you can shrug off a hangover or continually mess with narcotics.
Despite knowing this I'm not messing around, I'm serious, I need to know. Part of me is locked away and I'm desperate.
This isn't just a fun trip. I mean sure re-living getting blown in the city park was fun but, fuck me I had totally forgotten that the cops showed up and she was only 17...
Besides if you have never done this before my friend then you will no this isn't no Minnie Riperton R&B song this shit is serious. Do it wrong and when you come back you won't have any memory at all. I've seen it. I've seen 20 year old kids who just wanted to relive their first lay come back wide eyed as a baby and just as smart.
So I fill my glass, down my drink, and for the 6th time I put on the mask.
Not much of a mask really...Just a ball that goes in your mouth and then a strap that goes around the back of your neck. In the back of your neck at the base of your skull is fat needle full to the brim of "Memory Lane" or Eidetic's Piss as the dealers called it.
I bite down on the ball and the needle stabs into my spinal chord flooding my brain with the stuff. I hope that this time will be the last and that I never have to do this again because it hurts.
Holy shit does it hurt.
It feels like a firework has just gone off at the base of your skull and light up all the neurons and electrons and they are just trying to leap out of your head and explode your eyeballs and your brain is just propelling you down a tube to nowhere. I can't see anything because my eyes are rolled so far back in my head that I should be able to see the actual synapses burning.
People who watch others take the trip say that the person is only out for a minute tops, but when you want to see something from your past time is relative and so the transition can take forever it seems.
I came out of my trip across my own conscious time span and immediately knew I was in the right place. I knew this because I had never been here before. I could not remember it. I knew because people had told me what happened. I knew the longboard below me was mine, I knew that the houses moving past me were somewhere in town I used to live in, and I knew that the people skating ahead of me were friends of mine from over a decade ago.
I also dreaded what would happen next. I had ideas but had never lived, had no memory of it. The part of me that knew screamed and panicked and tried to jump off my board and stop, but I knew there was no stopping it. My feet moved without my control, my mouth shouting happily to the figures ahead of me, enjoying the ride down the hill but me from the future dreaded the pain. I would feel every bit of it and had no power to stop it. The people skating in front of me turned a corner and went down a street carving back and forth on their boards. I missed the turn. "Oh well fuck it," past me thought. Apparently I wasn't too worried not knowing where the hell I was going. The hill started to get steeper and the suburban houses started to speed by and the new longboard under me started to shake. I looked out my own eyes, my 17 year old eyes as the road started to drop off, and my memory started to come back.
I was flying now, faster than I had ever gone on wheels, and the bottom did not look promising. A dead end couldesac with ivy and a incline up a slope. My 17 year old self looked in horror and really realized what deep shit he was in now. I felt for him. I was already past it. I had been through everything already. The broken arm. The craniotomy. The staph infection. The seizures. This was the only thing that was missing from my puzzle. I had no memory of this day.
We both flew toward the end of the the hill him wondering if this was the day he was going to die and me wishing I could reassure him that it wasn't.
And then we crashed.
|
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "It's called Memory Lane. It takes you back to a moment in your life, and let's you relive it like it is actually happening. Everything feels the same. Sights, smells, touch, feelings, and emotions. It's an amazing sensation." She rattled on and on, but I wasn't convinced.
"Why would anyone want to relive past moments?" I sure as hell wouldn't. My life has been full of pain and sorrow, so much so that I can barely remember any happy memories.
"Are you KIDDING me? You can experience anything and everything for the first time again. You can remember great moments again and again." Her eyes became brighter and brighter as she continued to list all the amazing things ML does for people.
I still wasn't convinced, but I thought "Fuck it... I'll do one." I inhaled a spray of ML from an inhaler. I was instantly transported back 16 years...but I couldn't move, or speak on my own accord. I was literally in the moment, in control of nothing, an observer in my own body.
"Wait..." I thought, "I know where I am. I know when I am...no...NO." I was there, in Philadelphia, on July 8th, 1999. The night before my father died. "No...I can't do this again. I just...can't." I pleaded with myself, somehow thinking if I begged my brain hard enough the memory would change. I knew once I went to sleep I'd be awoken by my frantic mother. I knew I'd have to relive the moment of frivolous attempting CPR on my father's lifeless body. I'd relive the moment when I lashed out at the ER doctor when he told me my father was dead. Wake up...please wake up. Snap out of this...
I didnt wake up, and my memory of this night became clearer to me. I knew what was going to happen next. I watched as my body got up from its seat and moved out into the living room. As I turned the corner I saw him... "Happy birthday Dad! I know I don't say this often, but I love you." My heart broke...I should have said it more often to him.
"It's OK, son. I was 17 once too. I know you do." I heard my father's voice, for the first time in 16 years, say. I had forgotten what his voice sounded like...
"Thanks pops..." I felt my body plop down next to him on the couch, and give him a hug. I had forgotten how he smelled like Brut aftershave. I had forgotten how safe I felt in his embrace. I had forgotten a lot of things.
"You know what, son... I'm glad we had a chance this year to get closer. I know I spent too much time focused on your older brother when you both were growing up. I'm sorry for that." My father lamented. What the hell...? I don't remember this at all.
"Dad...my brother got your time because of baseball, but that's about all he got. I got your time for movies, arcades, libraries, museums, whatever I wanted to do. It may have not been all that much time, but it was always more than enough." I heard myself say, but didn't believe it. I don't remember this conversation. I don't remember my father apologizing to me for not doing enough. He always did more than enough...
"Well, kid, when you have your own children learn from my mistake. Spend as much time with each of them as possible. You never know when time will run out." He said with a smile and lighthearted chuckle.
We sat and watched TV, as we did 16 years ago. We cracked jokes, we poked fun at each other, and we channel surfed...just like we did that fateful day. I never knew the happiest moment of my life was just sitting and watching TV with my dad on his birthday, until now.
Then everything went black.
"How was it?" I heard a familiar voice ask. "What memory did you have??" It was my friend.
"I...I went back to the night before my dad died."
"OH MY GOD...I'm so sorry. I forgot to tell you that ML picks a random memory. I never had to relive anything horrific before..."
"No...actually...it was good. I got to see my dad again. I got to hear something he said back then that I completely forgot about. I...I... thank you. I've always said I'd give anything in this world to spend one more moment with him. So...thank you."
I packed up my things and got ready to leave. "Where are you going?" She asked.
"I'm going home to be with my kids." | I half-stumble half-walk over to my tattered lay-z boy chair, the bottle of whiskey clinking as I set it down on the table. I sigh as I sit down, glancing at my reflection in the glass next to me. Damn... Not looking too good. My permanently sardonic eyes remind me that I'm certainly past the age where you can shrug off a hangover or continually mess with narcotics.
Despite knowing this I'm not messing around, I'm serious, I need to know. Part of me is locked away and I'm desperate.
This isn't just a fun trip. I mean sure re-living getting blown in the city park was fun but, fuck me I had totally forgotten that the cops showed up and she was only 17...
Besides if you have never done this before my friend then you will no this isn't no Minnie Riperton R&B song this shit is serious. Do it wrong and when you come back you won't have any memory at all. I've seen it. I've seen 20 year old kids who just wanted to relive their first lay come back wide eyed as a baby and just as smart.
So I fill my glass, down my drink, and for the 6th time I put on the mask.
Not much of a mask really...Just a ball that goes in your mouth and then a strap that goes around the back of your neck. In the back of your neck at the base of your skull is fat needle full to the brim of "Memory Lane" or Eidetic's Piss as the dealers called it.
I bite down on the ball and the needle stabs into my spinal chord flooding my brain with the stuff. I hope that this time will be the last and that I never have to do this again because it hurts.
Holy shit does it hurt.
It feels like a firework has just gone off at the base of your skull and light up all the neurons and electrons and they are just trying to leap out of your head and explode your eyeballs and your brain is just propelling you down a tube to nowhere. I can't see anything because my eyes are rolled so far back in my head that I should be able to see the actual synapses burning.
People who watch others take the trip say that the person is only out for a minute tops, but when you want to see something from your past time is relative and so the transition can take forever it seems.
I came out of my trip across my own conscious time span and immediately knew I was in the right place. I knew this because I had never been here before. I could not remember it. I knew because people had told me what happened. I knew the longboard below me was mine, I knew that the houses moving past me were somewhere in town I used to live in, and I knew that the people skating ahead of me were friends of mine from over a decade ago.
I also dreaded what would happen next. I had ideas but had never lived, had no memory of it. The part of me that knew screamed and panicked and tried to jump off my board and stop, but I knew there was no stopping it. My feet moved without my control, my mouth shouting happily to the figures ahead of me, enjoying the ride down the hill but me from the future dreaded the pain. I would feel every bit of it and had no power to stop it. The people skating in front of me turned a corner and went down a street carving back and forth on their boards. I missed the turn. "Oh well fuck it," past me thought. Apparently I wasn't too worried not knowing where the hell I was going. The hill started to get steeper and the suburban houses started to speed by and the new longboard under me started to shake. I looked out my own eyes, my 17 year old eyes as the road started to drop off, and my memory started to come back.
I was flying now, faster than I had ever gone on wheels, and the bottom did not look promising. A dead end couldesac with ivy and a incline up a slope. My 17 year old self looked in horror and really realized what deep shit he was in now. I felt for him. I was already past it. I had been through everything already. The broken arm. The craniotomy. The staph infection. The seizures. This was the only thing that was missing from my puzzle. I had no memory of this day.
We both flew toward the end of the the hill him wondering if this was the day he was going to die and me wishing I could reassure him that it wasn't.
And then we crashed.
|
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
Inhale. Just like he told me, I hold my breath. I let it fill my lungs. I let the drug take over. Clouds of past memories filled my mind, nothing clear yet, as if the drug was slowly walking down memory lane, looking into doors of each memory, but not yet committing to one. Eventually, though, it stops, choosing a door, a memory, a decision based completly randomly. I hope its a good one. Exhale.
I pass out.
"Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
I wake up.
"Well, how was it?" Joe asks. | I half-stumble half-walk over to my tattered lay-z boy chair, the bottle of whiskey clinking as I set it down on the table. I sigh as I sit down, glancing at my reflection in the glass next to me. Damn... Not looking too good. My permanently sardonic eyes remind me that I'm certainly past the age where you can shrug off a hangover or continually mess with narcotics.
Despite knowing this I'm not messing around, I'm serious, I need to know. Part of me is locked away and I'm desperate.
This isn't just a fun trip. I mean sure re-living getting blown in the city park was fun but, fuck me I had totally forgotten that the cops showed up and she was only 17...
Besides if you have never done this before my friend then you will no this isn't no Minnie Riperton R&B song this shit is serious. Do it wrong and when you come back you won't have any memory at all. I've seen it. I've seen 20 year old kids who just wanted to relive their first lay come back wide eyed as a baby and just as smart.
So I fill my glass, down my drink, and for the 6th time I put on the mask.
Not much of a mask really...Just a ball that goes in your mouth and then a strap that goes around the back of your neck. In the back of your neck at the base of your skull is fat needle full to the brim of "Memory Lane" or Eidetic's Piss as the dealers called it.
I bite down on the ball and the needle stabs into my spinal chord flooding my brain with the stuff. I hope that this time will be the last and that I never have to do this again because it hurts.
Holy shit does it hurt.
It feels like a firework has just gone off at the base of your skull and light up all the neurons and electrons and they are just trying to leap out of your head and explode your eyeballs and your brain is just propelling you down a tube to nowhere. I can't see anything because my eyes are rolled so far back in my head that I should be able to see the actual synapses burning.
People who watch others take the trip say that the person is only out for a minute tops, but when you want to see something from your past time is relative and so the transition can take forever it seems.
I came out of my trip across my own conscious time span and immediately knew I was in the right place. I knew this because I had never been here before. I could not remember it. I knew because people had told me what happened. I knew the longboard below me was mine, I knew that the houses moving past me were somewhere in town I used to live in, and I knew that the people skating ahead of me were friends of mine from over a decade ago.
I also dreaded what would happen next. I had ideas but had never lived, had no memory of it. The part of me that knew screamed and panicked and tried to jump off my board and stop, but I knew there was no stopping it. My feet moved without my control, my mouth shouting happily to the figures ahead of me, enjoying the ride down the hill but me from the future dreaded the pain. I would feel every bit of it and had no power to stop it. The people skating in front of me turned a corner and went down a street carving back and forth on their boards. I missed the turn. "Oh well fuck it," past me thought. Apparently I wasn't too worried not knowing where the hell I was going. The hill started to get steeper and the suburban houses started to speed by and the new longboard under me started to shake. I looked out my own eyes, my 17 year old eyes as the road started to drop off, and my memory started to come back.
I was flying now, faster than I had ever gone on wheels, and the bottom did not look promising. A dead end couldesac with ivy and a incline up a slope. My 17 year old self looked in horror and really realized what deep shit he was in now. I felt for him. I was already past it. I had been through everything already. The broken arm. The craniotomy. The staph infection. The seizures. This was the only thing that was missing from my puzzle. I had no memory of this day.
We both flew toward the end of the the hill him wondering if this was the day he was going to die and me wishing I could reassure him that it wasn't.
And then we crashed.
|
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Hey man, you wana try this shit? I got it from a friend who works down in Texas. Says they shoot it over the border fence late at night. It's called Memory Lane or some shit like that. He says it lets you relive part of your life with abso-fucking-lutely prefect recall. It's like you're **THERE**."
"How much?"
The dealer shrugs, "first hit's free, ya know?"
"Hell yea. Man, there was this girl once, back in Cali? God she was the whole package. Smart, funny, a surfer's body -- you ever hook up with one of those surfer chicks? Hours of swimming **do things** to a womans body. KnowwhatImsaying? Hand that shit over."
A small glass vial changes hands, the liquid inside bending the sodium glow of the city's old industrial street lamps into figments and ghosts upon the cracked concrete of the skate park.
"Two drops in each eye. Yea, just lean your head back and... yea. Ok. You might wana lie down."
The dealer cradled his friends head in his hands as the drug took hold. The effect was always the same -- the pupils open like pits as the eyelids flutter shut. The legs kick: once, twice, and then stiffen before melting slowly into a pronounced torpor.
And then, stillness. In the distance an ambulance siren whoops, barely discernable above the neon buzz of the dry-cleaner's cracking yellow sign.
He wakes to the rhythmic thuds of the 11:10 train, northbound, on the tracks above.
"Well? How was it? Shit's amazing right? Did you see the girl? Maybe your dad or that car you wrecked in high school? The memory is random so it could have been anything but the more you try the more likely you are to get a good one. I'll cut you a deal on the whole case if you..."
"Did you know we spend 1/3 of our lives asleep?"
"I.... well shit." | Your return to consciousness is welcomed by the bright white of a computer screen, flashing colors at you the moment your fingers stumble across a few familiar keys to get to that favorite website of yours. A quick glance around the room before you continue on with your activity; the door is cracked open, but you're probably alone. Despite your razor-like focus on the cracked doorway, most of your vision is unfocused, the walls of the room covered in a whitewash. Not the same white you woke up to... it's duller... but a bit more comforting. Splashes of oakwood furniture can be barely made out as you turn back to the screen glowing on your face and try to make out anything; the drugs could take some adjusting sometimes.
You struggle just to focus on anything, but your brain refuses to see anything but barely formed colors. You're high right now, aren't you? I wonder what you're on. Could be weed, could be meth, could be coke, could be antidepressants. I wonder how old you are. That should help you figure out what point you're at; at least a ballpark guess. You look down at the fingers resting on a mouse and keyboard, idly scrolling that same old website with or without a brain piloting it.
You strain to focus one more time... the light is less beaming as your eyes adapt to your surroundings, letting the screen feel a little less vivid, a little more comforting. You can almost collect enough detail to see your fingernails... then you lose it. the image quickly snaps back to a complete blur of the same dull colors. Your mind is instantly put at ease by the familiar shades. It's okay, it's probably antidepressants. Probably. They never helped much. What were you taking back there?
You quickly snap into focus, stumbling to the ground in the middle of your living room. There's either decorations or complete garbage littering the carpet; it's somewhat hard to tell from this angle. Are you high right now? Probably not. Maybe a little weed. Your friend wanted you to try out something new, what was his name? I don't know either.
Anyways, you're still on the floor.
...
Get up.
You rise to your feet as quickly as you can, although that takes a few minutes in your current condition.
Now, stumble up to bed.
Go on.
You take a step, then two, your feet feeling like dead weight as you drag yourself forward. The next thing I remember, you're in bed. You're convinced that the best thing to do is try and sleep it off.
You stare blankly at the wall for a moment, lost in your thoughts. You should call your friend, what was his name? You should paint your room. This bed is comfy. And just like that, you're out like a light. Maybe you'll have a memory worth remembering next time. |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "It's called Memory Lane. It takes you back to a moment in your life, and let's you relive it like it is actually happening. Everything feels the same. Sights, smells, touch, feelings, and emotions. It's an amazing sensation." She rattled on and on, but I wasn't convinced.
"Why would anyone want to relive past moments?" I sure as hell wouldn't. My life has been full of pain and sorrow, so much so that I can barely remember any happy memories.
"Are you KIDDING me? You can experience anything and everything for the first time again. You can remember great moments again and again." Her eyes became brighter and brighter as she continued to list all the amazing things ML does for people.
I still wasn't convinced, but I thought "Fuck it... I'll do one." I inhaled a spray of ML from an inhaler. I was instantly transported back 16 years...but I couldn't move, or speak on my own accord. I was literally in the moment, in control of nothing, an observer in my own body.
"Wait..." I thought, "I know where I am. I know when I am...no...NO." I was there, in Philadelphia, on July 8th, 1999. The night before my father died. "No...I can't do this again. I just...can't." I pleaded with myself, somehow thinking if I begged my brain hard enough the memory would change. I knew once I went to sleep I'd be awoken by my frantic mother. I knew I'd have to relive the moment of frivolous attempting CPR on my father's lifeless body. I'd relive the moment when I lashed out at the ER doctor when he told me my father was dead. Wake up...please wake up. Snap out of this...
I didnt wake up, and my memory of this night became clearer to me. I knew what was going to happen next. I watched as my body got up from its seat and moved out into the living room. As I turned the corner I saw him... "Happy birthday Dad! I know I don't say this often, but I love you." My heart broke...I should have said it more often to him.
"It's OK, son. I was 17 once too. I know you do." I heard my father's voice, for the first time in 16 years, say. I had forgotten what his voice sounded like...
"Thanks pops..." I felt my body plop down next to him on the couch, and give him a hug. I had forgotten how he smelled like Brut aftershave. I had forgotten how safe I felt in his embrace. I had forgotten a lot of things.
"You know what, son... I'm glad we had a chance this year to get closer. I know I spent too much time focused on your older brother when you both were growing up. I'm sorry for that." My father lamented. What the hell...? I don't remember this at all.
"Dad...my brother got your time because of baseball, but that's about all he got. I got your time for movies, arcades, libraries, museums, whatever I wanted to do. It may have not been all that much time, but it was always more than enough." I heard myself say, but didn't believe it. I don't remember this conversation. I don't remember my father apologizing to me for not doing enough. He always did more than enough...
"Well, kid, when you have your own children learn from my mistake. Spend as much time with each of them as possible. You never know when time will run out." He said with a smile and lighthearted chuckle.
We sat and watched TV, as we did 16 years ago. We cracked jokes, we poked fun at each other, and we channel surfed...just like we did that fateful day. I never knew the happiest moment of my life was just sitting and watching TV with my dad on his birthday, until now.
Then everything went black.
"How was it?" I heard a familiar voice ask. "What memory did you have??" It was my friend.
"I...I went back to the night before my dad died."
"OH MY GOD...I'm so sorry. I forgot to tell you that ML picks a random memory. I never had to relive anything horrific before..."
"No...actually...it was good. I got to see my dad again. I got to hear something he said back then that I completely forgot about. I...I... thank you. I've always said I'd give anything in this world to spend one more moment with him. So...thank you."
I packed up my things and got ready to leave. "Where are you going?" She asked.
"I'm going home to be with my kids." | Your return to consciousness is welcomed by the bright white of a computer screen, flashing colors at you the moment your fingers stumble across a few familiar keys to get to that favorite website of yours. A quick glance around the room before you continue on with your activity; the door is cracked open, but you're probably alone. Despite your razor-like focus on the cracked doorway, most of your vision is unfocused, the walls of the room covered in a whitewash. Not the same white you woke up to... it's duller... but a bit more comforting. Splashes of oakwood furniture can be barely made out as you turn back to the screen glowing on your face and try to make out anything; the drugs could take some adjusting sometimes.
You struggle just to focus on anything, but your brain refuses to see anything but barely formed colors. You're high right now, aren't you? I wonder what you're on. Could be weed, could be meth, could be coke, could be antidepressants. I wonder how old you are. That should help you figure out what point you're at; at least a ballpark guess. You look down at the fingers resting on a mouse and keyboard, idly scrolling that same old website with or without a brain piloting it.
You strain to focus one more time... the light is less beaming as your eyes adapt to your surroundings, letting the screen feel a little less vivid, a little more comforting. You can almost collect enough detail to see your fingernails... then you lose it. the image quickly snaps back to a complete blur of the same dull colors. Your mind is instantly put at ease by the familiar shades. It's okay, it's probably antidepressants. Probably. They never helped much. What were you taking back there?
You quickly snap into focus, stumbling to the ground in the middle of your living room. There's either decorations or complete garbage littering the carpet; it's somewhat hard to tell from this angle. Are you high right now? Probably not. Maybe a little weed. Your friend wanted you to try out something new, what was his name? I don't know either.
Anyways, you're still on the floor.
...
Get up.
You rise to your feet as quickly as you can, although that takes a few minutes in your current condition.
Now, stumble up to bed.
Go on.
You take a step, then two, your feet feeling like dead weight as you drag yourself forward. The next thing I remember, you're in bed. You're convinced that the best thing to do is try and sleep it off.
You stare blankly at the wall for a moment, lost in your thoughts. You should call your friend, what was his name? You should paint your room. This bed is comfy. And just like that, you're out like a light. Maybe you'll have a memory worth remembering next time. |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
Inhale. Just like he told me, I hold my breath. I let it fill my lungs. I let the drug take over. Clouds of past memories filled my mind, nothing clear yet, as if the drug was slowly walking down memory lane, looking into doors of each memory, but not yet committing to one. Eventually, though, it stops, choosing a door, a memory, a decision based completly randomly. I hope its a good one. Exhale.
I pass out.
"Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
I wake up.
"Well, how was it?" Joe asks. | Your return to consciousness is welcomed by the bright white of a computer screen, flashing colors at you the moment your fingers stumble across a few familiar keys to get to that favorite website of yours. A quick glance around the room before you continue on with your activity; the door is cracked open, but you're probably alone. Despite your razor-like focus on the cracked doorway, most of your vision is unfocused, the walls of the room covered in a whitewash. Not the same white you woke up to... it's duller... but a bit more comforting. Splashes of oakwood furniture can be barely made out as you turn back to the screen glowing on your face and try to make out anything; the drugs could take some adjusting sometimes.
You struggle just to focus on anything, but your brain refuses to see anything but barely formed colors. You're high right now, aren't you? I wonder what you're on. Could be weed, could be meth, could be coke, could be antidepressants. I wonder how old you are. That should help you figure out what point you're at; at least a ballpark guess. You look down at the fingers resting on a mouse and keyboard, idly scrolling that same old website with or without a brain piloting it.
You strain to focus one more time... the light is less beaming as your eyes adapt to your surroundings, letting the screen feel a little less vivid, a little more comforting. You can almost collect enough detail to see your fingernails... then you lose it. the image quickly snaps back to a complete blur of the same dull colors. Your mind is instantly put at ease by the familiar shades. It's okay, it's probably antidepressants. Probably. They never helped much. What were you taking back there?
You quickly snap into focus, stumbling to the ground in the middle of your living room. There's either decorations or complete garbage littering the carpet; it's somewhat hard to tell from this angle. Are you high right now? Probably not. Maybe a little weed. Your friend wanted you to try out something new, what was his name? I don't know either.
Anyways, you're still on the floor.
...
Get up.
You rise to your feet as quickly as you can, although that takes a few minutes in your current condition.
Now, stumble up to bed.
Go on.
You take a step, then two, your feet feeling like dead weight as you drag yourself forward. The next thing I remember, you're in bed. You're convinced that the best thing to do is try and sleep it off.
You stare blankly at the wall for a moment, lost in your thoughts. You should call your friend, what was his name? You should paint your room. This bed is comfy. And just like that, you're out like a light. Maybe you'll have a memory worth remembering next time. |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Hey man, you wana try this shit? I got it from a friend who works down in Texas. Says they shoot it over the border fence late at night. It's called Memory Lane or some shit like that. He says it lets you relive part of your life with abso-fucking-lutely prefect recall. It's like you're **THERE**."
"How much?"
The dealer shrugs, "first hit's free, ya know?"
"Hell yea. Man, there was this girl once, back in Cali? God she was the whole package. Smart, funny, a surfer's body -- you ever hook up with one of those surfer chicks? Hours of swimming **do things** to a womans body. KnowwhatImsaying? Hand that shit over."
A small glass vial changes hands, the liquid inside bending the sodium glow of the city's old industrial street lamps into figments and ghosts upon the cracked concrete of the skate park.
"Two drops in each eye. Yea, just lean your head back and... yea. Ok. You might wana lie down."
The dealer cradled his friends head in his hands as the drug took hold. The effect was always the same -- the pupils open like pits as the eyelids flutter shut. The legs kick: once, twice, and then stiffen before melting slowly into a pronounced torpor.
And then, stillness. In the distance an ambulance siren whoops, barely discernable above the neon buzz of the dry-cleaner's cracking yellow sign.
He wakes to the rhythmic thuds of the 11:10 train, northbound, on the tracks above.
"Well? How was it? Shit's amazing right? Did you see the girl? Maybe your dad or that car you wrecked in high school? The memory is random so it could have been anything but the more you try the more likely you are to get a good one. I'll cut you a deal on the whole case if you..."
"Did you know we spend 1/3 of our lives asleep?"
"I.... well shit." | In the bathroom I awake to a naked body lying on the floor that is bound in a fetal position. The small windowless room is filled with steam. Water is dripping from the ceiling only to remind me that I can still feel.
Due to the dense fog that fills the room, I can barely see my hand in front of me. The only thing I can hear is water running. I reach out to feel for anything that will help pull this old soul up from the ground. It feels as if I've been searching for an hour and no luck. I begin to ask myself, "How did I get here"?
There is no response.
Suddenly I feel this cold felling at the tip of my fingers and realize it is familiar. I caress it real slow to gain full memory. Then it hits me. These are the same feet that support my bathtub. "How did this get in here?", I ask myself.
(I shut my eyes and go deep into my memory to see her face bright up as we sat naked in the tub scrubbing each other's feet.)
Now back to reality, I drag my hand slowly across the top of the tub to get a better grip.
My whole body immediately goes into shock and (given the impression that my heart dropped) I can see my heart lying on the floor.
"How is this possible?"
I can smell her Chanel and taste her love. This feeling is so real. I grab with both of my hands and caress this texture that resembles a woman's skin. I make my way to where a wrist would be.
I begin to shake unbearably only to find that the scars are gone. "This can't be real. This can't be real. Somebody help me! Get me out of here!"
Total silence. The dense fog is immediately gone.
I am face to face with my naked self staring into a mirror. Then in a soft tone I hear someone call my name from behind. I can see through the mirror a silhouette of a woman lying in the tub. I turn around and I am blinded by her smile.
"Hello darling", she says. What can I say? What should I say? What would you say?
For the first time in my life I am at a loss for words. I reach out to her so I can feel again. She slowly lets out her hand for me to grab, but it crumbles at my finger tips. That's when the rest of her body begins to crumble.
The room goes black and I am face to face with myself once more staring into the same mirror. This time I am fully clothed and I can hear the birds singing outside. I let out a deep breath that filled my lungs.
"It's time to go".
I turn around and face the door. I then turn the knob very slowly to ensure everything is safe. I am then blinded by her smile once more.
"Hello darling. Is everything ok? You were in there for a while. Did I hear the water running?"
(Looking back into the bathroom I reply by saying)
"Everything is fine. Now that I know you are okay. What's for dinner?"
(The past is not to be forgotten, but a memory that will help you push forward.)
The End.
|
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "It's called Memory Lane. It takes you back to a moment in your life, and let's you relive it like it is actually happening. Everything feels the same. Sights, smells, touch, feelings, and emotions. It's an amazing sensation." She rattled on and on, but I wasn't convinced.
"Why would anyone want to relive past moments?" I sure as hell wouldn't. My life has been full of pain and sorrow, so much so that I can barely remember any happy memories.
"Are you KIDDING me? You can experience anything and everything for the first time again. You can remember great moments again and again." Her eyes became brighter and brighter as she continued to list all the amazing things ML does for people.
I still wasn't convinced, but I thought "Fuck it... I'll do one." I inhaled a spray of ML from an inhaler. I was instantly transported back 16 years...but I couldn't move, or speak on my own accord. I was literally in the moment, in control of nothing, an observer in my own body.
"Wait..." I thought, "I know where I am. I know when I am...no...NO." I was there, in Philadelphia, on July 8th, 1999. The night before my father died. "No...I can't do this again. I just...can't." I pleaded with myself, somehow thinking if I begged my brain hard enough the memory would change. I knew once I went to sleep I'd be awoken by my frantic mother. I knew I'd have to relive the moment of frivolous attempting CPR on my father's lifeless body. I'd relive the moment when I lashed out at the ER doctor when he told me my father was dead. Wake up...please wake up. Snap out of this...
I didnt wake up, and my memory of this night became clearer to me. I knew what was going to happen next. I watched as my body got up from its seat and moved out into the living room. As I turned the corner I saw him... "Happy birthday Dad! I know I don't say this often, but I love you." My heart broke...I should have said it more often to him.
"It's OK, son. I was 17 once too. I know you do." I heard my father's voice, for the first time in 16 years, say. I had forgotten what his voice sounded like...
"Thanks pops..." I felt my body plop down next to him on the couch, and give him a hug. I had forgotten how he smelled like Brut aftershave. I had forgotten how safe I felt in his embrace. I had forgotten a lot of things.
"You know what, son... I'm glad we had a chance this year to get closer. I know I spent too much time focused on your older brother when you both were growing up. I'm sorry for that." My father lamented. What the hell...? I don't remember this at all.
"Dad...my brother got your time because of baseball, but that's about all he got. I got your time for movies, arcades, libraries, museums, whatever I wanted to do. It may have not been all that much time, but it was always more than enough." I heard myself say, but didn't believe it. I don't remember this conversation. I don't remember my father apologizing to me for not doing enough. He always did more than enough...
"Well, kid, when you have your own children learn from my mistake. Spend as much time with each of them as possible. You never know when time will run out." He said with a smile and lighthearted chuckle.
We sat and watched TV, as we did 16 years ago. We cracked jokes, we poked fun at each other, and we channel surfed...just like we did that fateful day. I never knew the happiest moment of my life was just sitting and watching TV with my dad on his birthday, until now.
Then everything went black.
"How was it?" I heard a familiar voice ask. "What memory did you have??" It was my friend.
"I...I went back to the night before my dad died."
"OH MY GOD...I'm so sorry. I forgot to tell you that ML picks a random memory. I never had to relive anything horrific before..."
"No...actually...it was good. I got to see my dad again. I got to hear something he said back then that I completely forgot about. I...I... thank you. I've always said I'd give anything in this world to spend one more moment with him. So...thank you."
I packed up my things and got ready to leave. "Where are you going?" She asked.
"I'm going home to be with my kids." | In the bathroom I awake to a naked body lying on the floor that is bound in a fetal position. The small windowless room is filled with steam. Water is dripping from the ceiling only to remind me that I can still feel.
Due to the dense fog that fills the room, I can barely see my hand in front of me. The only thing I can hear is water running. I reach out to feel for anything that will help pull this old soul up from the ground. It feels as if I've been searching for an hour and no luck. I begin to ask myself, "How did I get here"?
There is no response.
Suddenly I feel this cold felling at the tip of my fingers and realize it is familiar. I caress it real slow to gain full memory. Then it hits me. These are the same feet that support my bathtub. "How did this get in here?", I ask myself.
(I shut my eyes and go deep into my memory to see her face bright up as we sat naked in the tub scrubbing each other's feet.)
Now back to reality, I drag my hand slowly across the top of the tub to get a better grip.
My whole body immediately goes into shock and (given the impression that my heart dropped) I can see my heart lying on the floor.
"How is this possible?"
I can smell her Chanel and taste her love. This feeling is so real. I grab with both of my hands and caress this texture that resembles a woman's skin. I make my way to where a wrist would be.
I begin to shake unbearably only to find that the scars are gone. "This can't be real. This can't be real. Somebody help me! Get me out of here!"
Total silence. The dense fog is immediately gone.
I am face to face with my naked self staring into a mirror. Then in a soft tone I hear someone call my name from behind. I can see through the mirror a silhouette of a woman lying in the tub. I turn around and I am blinded by her smile.
"Hello darling", she says. What can I say? What should I say? What would you say?
For the first time in my life I am at a loss for words. I reach out to her so I can feel again. She slowly lets out her hand for me to grab, but it crumbles at my finger tips. That's when the rest of her body begins to crumble.
The room goes black and I am face to face with myself once more staring into the same mirror. This time I am fully clothed and I can hear the birds singing outside. I let out a deep breath that filled my lungs.
"It's time to go".
I turn around and face the door. I then turn the knob very slowly to ensure everything is safe. I am then blinded by her smile once more.
"Hello darling. Is everything ok? You were in there for a while. Did I hear the water running?"
(Looking back into the bathroom I reply by saying)
"Everything is fine. Now that I know you are okay. What's for dinner?"
(The past is not to be forgotten, but a memory that will help you push forward.)
The End.
|
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
Inhale. Just like he told me, I hold my breath. I let it fill my lungs. I let the drug take over. Clouds of past memories filled my mind, nothing clear yet, as if the drug was slowly walking down memory lane, looking into doors of each memory, but not yet committing to one. Eventually, though, it stops, choosing a door, a memory, a decision based completly randomly. I hope its a good one. Exhale.
I pass out.
"Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
I wake up.
"Well, how was it?" Joe asks. | In the bathroom I awake to a naked body lying on the floor that is bound in a fetal position. The small windowless room is filled with steam. Water is dripping from the ceiling only to remind me that I can still feel.
Due to the dense fog that fills the room, I can barely see my hand in front of me. The only thing I can hear is water running. I reach out to feel for anything that will help pull this old soul up from the ground. It feels as if I've been searching for an hour and no luck. I begin to ask myself, "How did I get here"?
There is no response.
Suddenly I feel this cold felling at the tip of my fingers and realize it is familiar. I caress it real slow to gain full memory. Then it hits me. These are the same feet that support my bathtub. "How did this get in here?", I ask myself.
(I shut my eyes and go deep into my memory to see her face bright up as we sat naked in the tub scrubbing each other's feet.)
Now back to reality, I drag my hand slowly across the top of the tub to get a better grip.
My whole body immediately goes into shock and (given the impression that my heart dropped) I can see my heart lying on the floor.
"How is this possible?"
I can smell her Chanel and taste her love. This feeling is so real. I grab with both of my hands and caress this texture that resembles a woman's skin. I make my way to where a wrist would be.
I begin to shake unbearably only to find that the scars are gone. "This can't be real. This can't be real. Somebody help me! Get me out of here!"
Total silence. The dense fog is immediately gone.
I am face to face with my naked self staring into a mirror. Then in a soft tone I hear someone call my name from behind. I can see through the mirror a silhouette of a woman lying in the tub. I turn around and I am blinded by her smile.
"Hello darling", she says. What can I say? What should I say? What would you say?
For the first time in my life I am at a loss for words. I reach out to her so I can feel again. She slowly lets out her hand for me to grab, but it crumbles at my finger tips. That's when the rest of her body begins to crumble.
The room goes black and I am face to face with myself once more staring into the same mirror. This time I am fully clothed and I can hear the birds singing outside. I let out a deep breath that filled my lungs.
"It's time to go".
I turn around and face the door. I then turn the knob very slowly to ensure everything is safe. I am then blinded by her smile once more.
"Hello darling. Is everything ok? You were in there for a while. Did I hear the water running?"
(Looking back into the bathroom I reply by saying)
"Everything is fine. Now that I know you are okay. What's for dinner?"
(The past is not to be forgotten, but a memory that will help you push forward.)
The End.
|
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Hey man, you wana try this shit? I got it from a friend who works down in Texas. Says they shoot it over the border fence late at night. It's called Memory Lane or some shit like that. He says it lets you relive part of your life with abso-fucking-lutely prefect recall. It's like you're **THERE**."
"How much?"
The dealer shrugs, "first hit's free, ya know?"
"Hell yea. Man, there was this girl once, back in Cali? God she was the whole package. Smart, funny, a surfer's body -- you ever hook up with one of those surfer chicks? Hours of swimming **do things** to a womans body. KnowwhatImsaying? Hand that shit over."
A small glass vial changes hands, the liquid inside bending the sodium glow of the city's old industrial street lamps into figments and ghosts upon the cracked concrete of the skate park.
"Two drops in each eye. Yea, just lean your head back and... yea. Ok. You might wana lie down."
The dealer cradled his friends head in his hands as the drug took hold. The effect was always the same -- the pupils open like pits as the eyelids flutter shut. The legs kick: once, twice, and then stiffen before melting slowly into a pronounced torpor.
And then, stillness. In the distance an ambulance siren whoops, barely discernable above the neon buzz of the dry-cleaner's cracking yellow sign.
He wakes to the rhythmic thuds of the 11:10 train, northbound, on the tracks above.
"Well? How was it? Shit's amazing right? Did you see the girl? Maybe your dad or that car you wrecked in high school? The memory is random so it could have been anything but the more you try the more likely you are to get a good one. I'll cut you a deal on the whole case if you..."
"Did you know we spend 1/3 of our lives asleep?"
"I.... well shit." | On the streets they would call it deja vu. Only the long time users really get them. After awhile though, they get worse.
See the problem with the Mems was once you had taken enough you started to lose it a little bit. Walking around minding your own when out of nowhere these little flashbacks start pounding your senses.
At first its little things like a pretty girl that resembled your first love. Or maybe something as simple as smelling some food on the breeze and remembering your ma making dinner for you when you were younger. But the more you do it, the more you remember.
Whatever your dealer calls it (Bourne syndrome, deja vu, replays, flashing) doesn't matter. Believe me, its real.
See most people do it once in awhile and then move on. Don't get me wrong that's totally cool, but those memories not only are "relived" but "rewrote" in a fashion that ends up quite bad.
When Joe Schmoe drives to work Monday through friday 52 weeks of the year his mind just glosses over anything that's part of the usual. He doesn't remeber the smell of the morning coffee, the feel of the AC, the songs he listened to, what he was wearing felt like etc etc.
See no one realized that our mind forgets these things on purpose.
So what happens when you're "all filled up" on sensory input from Mems? You fucking flash.
Walking down the street and hear a car honk? Your mind cant proccess that kind of input. Your brain picks a related memory and plays that instead.
Bumping uglies with the girl of your dreams? Oops 404 cant find any space to log this, ahhhh lets just play that one time he had sex with that one girl that dumped him the day after.
You can't handle input of anything more than monotones of all senses. Not to mention that flashing isn't like lost time, its pretty much a seizure to everyone around you while your mind scrambles to fix itself.
Anywho, moral of the story from your friendly neighborhood dealer is this. If your going to take a "Trip down memory lane" I'd advise being blackout drunk ;) |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
Inhale. Just like he told me, I hold my breath. I let it fill my lungs. I let the drug take over. Clouds of past memories filled my mind, nothing clear yet, as if the drug was slowly walking down memory lane, looking into doors of each memory, but not yet committing to one. Eventually, though, it stops, choosing a door, a memory, a decision based completly randomly. I hope its a good one. Exhale.
I pass out.
"Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
I wake up.
"Well, how was it?" Joe asks. | On the streets they would call it deja vu. Only the long time users really get them. After awhile though, they get worse.
See the problem with the Mems was once you had taken enough you started to lose it a little bit. Walking around minding your own when out of nowhere these little flashbacks start pounding your senses.
At first its little things like a pretty girl that resembled your first love. Or maybe something as simple as smelling some food on the breeze and remembering your ma making dinner for you when you were younger. But the more you do it, the more you remember.
Whatever your dealer calls it (Bourne syndrome, deja vu, replays, flashing) doesn't matter. Believe me, its real.
See most people do it once in awhile and then move on. Don't get me wrong that's totally cool, but those memories not only are "relived" but "rewrote" in a fashion that ends up quite bad.
When Joe Schmoe drives to work Monday through friday 52 weeks of the year his mind just glosses over anything that's part of the usual. He doesn't remeber the smell of the morning coffee, the feel of the AC, the songs he listened to, what he was wearing felt like etc etc.
See no one realized that our mind forgets these things on purpose.
So what happens when you're "all filled up" on sensory input from Mems? You fucking flash.
Walking down the street and hear a car honk? Your mind cant proccess that kind of input. Your brain picks a related memory and plays that instead.
Bumping uglies with the girl of your dreams? Oops 404 cant find any space to log this, ahhhh lets just play that one time he had sex with that one girl that dumped him the day after.
You can't handle input of anything more than monotones of all senses. Not to mention that flashing isn't like lost time, its pretty much a seizure to everyone around you while your mind scrambles to fix itself.
Anywho, moral of the story from your friendly neighborhood dealer is this. If your going to take a "Trip down memory lane" I'd advise being blackout drunk ;) |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Hey man, you wana try this shit? I got it from a friend who works down in Texas. Says they shoot it over the border fence late at night. It's called Memory Lane or some shit like that. He says it lets you relive part of your life with abso-fucking-lutely prefect recall. It's like you're **THERE**."
"How much?"
The dealer shrugs, "first hit's free, ya know?"
"Hell yea. Man, there was this girl once, back in Cali? God she was the whole package. Smart, funny, a surfer's body -- you ever hook up with one of those surfer chicks? Hours of swimming **do things** to a womans body. KnowwhatImsaying? Hand that shit over."
A small glass vial changes hands, the liquid inside bending the sodium glow of the city's old industrial street lamps into figments and ghosts upon the cracked concrete of the skate park.
"Two drops in each eye. Yea, just lean your head back and... yea. Ok. You might wana lie down."
The dealer cradled his friends head in his hands as the drug took hold. The effect was always the same -- the pupils open like pits as the eyelids flutter shut. The legs kick: once, twice, and then stiffen before melting slowly into a pronounced torpor.
And then, stillness. In the distance an ambulance siren whoops, barely discernable above the neon buzz of the dry-cleaner's cracking yellow sign.
He wakes to the rhythmic thuds of the 11:10 train, northbound, on the tracks above.
"Well? How was it? Shit's amazing right? Did you see the girl? Maybe your dad or that car you wrecked in high school? The memory is random so it could have been anything but the more you try the more likely you are to get a good one. I'll cut you a deal on the whole case if you..."
"Did you know we spend 1/3 of our lives asleep?"
"I.... well shit." | It's dark in the alley. A man stands and watches me. Why is he here?
He stalks forward, grabbing me by the neck, shoving me against the wall. I try to scream but nothing comes out, my throat is constricted, my fear of him growing. Continously, he is hitting and grabbing and tearing, ripping my clothes off my body. I go numb as I realize how helpless I am. Numb to the pain. Numb to the ghastly things being done to me, forced upon me. Numb to the world, a world that will judge me for not fighting back.
Then the numb is gone, and I feel again. I feel pain and I feel fear and I feel life and I feel death, all pulsing through my body at once, consuming me like a fire. And oh how it consumes me. Nothing left, nothing but a warmth in my neck and a whisper in my ear. "Take a trip down Memory Lane" he says, "I wonder where you'll go?"
It's light out when I wake up. It was a nightmare. Just a dream. Just a bad, nasty dream. I look around and see that I am in my childhood room. I wonder how I got here.
"Breakfast is ready dear!" My mother, a woman who long ago drank herself to death, calls out to me. She must be back to say goodbye.
I go out to the kitchen, expecting the drunk woman that I once loved, but when I see her, I am surprised. She looks sober. She looks happy. She looks like she recognizes me. Someone is behind her, grasping her shoulders lovingly. A man stands and watches me. Why is he here?
My mother starts speaking, "Honey, I would like you to meet Jack!"
But then it all goes dark. It all melts away. My room melts away. My old kitchen melts away. My even melt away. Everything melts away.
Wait! Something is wrong. Why is he here? Oh everything melted. Everything but Jack. A man stands and watches me. It's dark in the alley. So, so very dark.
**EDIT:** sorry for bad formatting, I am on mobile. |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
Inhale. Just like he told me, I hold my breath. I let it fill my lungs. I let the drug take over. Clouds of past memories filled my mind, nothing clear yet, as if the drug was slowly walking down memory lane, looking into doors of each memory, but not yet committing to one. Eventually, though, it stops, choosing a door, a memory, a decision based completly randomly. I hope its a good one. Exhale.
I pass out.
"Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
I wake up.
"Well, how was it?" Joe asks. | It's dark in the alley. A man stands and watches me. Why is he here?
He stalks forward, grabbing me by the neck, shoving me against the wall. I try to scream but nothing comes out, my throat is constricted, my fear of him growing. Continously, he is hitting and grabbing and tearing, ripping my clothes off my body. I go numb as I realize how helpless I am. Numb to the pain. Numb to the ghastly things being done to me, forced upon me. Numb to the world, a world that will judge me for not fighting back.
Then the numb is gone, and I feel again. I feel pain and I feel fear and I feel life and I feel death, all pulsing through my body at once, consuming me like a fire. And oh how it consumes me. Nothing left, nothing but a warmth in my neck and a whisper in my ear. "Take a trip down Memory Lane" he says, "I wonder where you'll go?"
It's light out when I wake up. It was a nightmare. Just a dream. Just a bad, nasty dream. I look around and see that I am in my childhood room. I wonder how I got here.
"Breakfast is ready dear!" My mother, a woman who long ago drank herself to death, calls out to me. She must be back to say goodbye.
I go out to the kitchen, expecting the drunk woman that I once loved, but when I see her, I am surprised. She looks sober. She looks happy. She looks like she recognizes me. Someone is behind her, grasping her shoulders lovingly. A man stands and watches me. Why is he here?
My mother starts speaking, "Honey, I would like you to meet Jack!"
But then it all goes dark. It all melts away. My room melts away. My old kitchen melts away. My even melt away. Everything melts away.
Wait! Something is wrong. Why is he here? Oh everything melted. Everything but Jack. A man stands and watches me. It's dark in the alley. So, so very dark.
**EDIT:** sorry for bad formatting, I am on mobile. |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Hey man, you wana try this shit? I got it from a friend who works down in Texas. Says they shoot it over the border fence late at night. It's called Memory Lane or some shit like that. He says it lets you relive part of your life with abso-fucking-lutely prefect recall. It's like you're **THERE**."
"How much?"
The dealer shrugs, "first hit's free, ya know?"
"Hell yea. Man, there was this girl once, back in Cali? God she was the whole package. Smart, funny, a surfer's body -- you ever hook up with one of those surfer chicks? Hours of swimming **do things** to a womans body. KnowwhatImsaying? Hand that shit over."
A small glass vial changes hands, the liquid inside bending the sodium glow of the city's old industrial street lamps into figments and ghosts upon the cracked concrete of the skate park.
"Two drops in each eye. Yea, just lean your head back and... yea. Ok. You might wana lie down."
The dealer cradled his friends head in his hands as the drug took hold. The effect was always the same -- the pupils open like pits as the eyelids flutter shut. The legs kick: once, twice, and then stiffen before melting slowly into a pronounced torpor.
And then, stillness. In the distance an ambulance siren whoops, barely discernable above the neon buzz of the dry-cleaner's cracking yellow sign.
He wakes to the rhythmic thuds of the 11:10 train, northbound, on the tracks above.
"Well? How was it? Shit's amazing right? Did you see the girl? Maybe your dad or that car you wrecked in high school? The memory is random so it could have been anything but the more you try the more likely you are to get a good one. I'll cut you a deal on the whole case if you..."
"Did you know we spend 1/3 of our lives asleep?"
"I.... well shit." | So this is my first try. Though this is inspired by a Historic event, the story in itself is purely fiction. The theme is also slightly sensitive. So just to be clear, I dont mean to offend anybody with this story, if at all! Here goes:
Babies and Screams
It was a summer night and the family had left the balcony door open to let the air in. But it was hot and humid so the swaying of the curtains against the open door did not make the room any more pleasant than what the actual climate did. The weather was merciless.
The white wall attached to the open door separated a sea-facing balcony and a twenty-five square feet room. The room was not heavily decorated: its occupants were frugal. There was a medium-sized quaint rosewood bed upon which slept a mother and her child. Beside the bed and away from the sea-facing door, erected was a cupboard that matched the rosewood furniture in the room.
A man in his late-thirties sat at the foot of the cupboard. The man lost some of his hair in the top, round patch of his head. For a stranger, it looked like he had shaved a precise geometric circle. The man had been sitting there for a while now- feeling his bald patch and waiting for the visceral haze. Few minutes passed before the man’s vision began to become pixelated. He did not fight the influx of blur. Seconds later, the baby’s clear, petite form began merging with the sea in the backdrop. The man stared at the baby one last time before he revisited his past. Then, covering his face with his thick fingers, he saw that the room became one hot blob of colors.
Meanwhile, the baby, wrapped in his supine mother’s arms, looked like an adorably tiny curlicue: curled up in a foetal curve. His bloated tummy rose and fell as he sunk deeper and deeper into his peaceful sleep. He was far too young to understand that, tonight, the bed lacked the warmth of a third person: of a father.
*
The baby, wrapped in his comatose mother’s arm, looked like a smudged, tiny curlicue. His bloated tummy rose and fell as he uncomprehendingly watched the dhoti-clad men and the saree-clad women running from one corner to another.
“Bachao! Bachao! Roko unko!”
The locals yelled for help. They yelled for the injustice to stop. So, nobody, but an eight-year old boy, took notice that the baby was still alive in his dead mother’s arms. The eight year old boy, Sham, had come there with his family earlier that day to hear some leaders of the Non-Cooperation Movement. Sham had not particularly wanted to come because it was Baisakhi- the one festival every religious Sikh looked forward to. Sham had wanted to stay home and celebrate. But he was made to come anyway.
Sham’s mother, who was now a dead woman, had told him that they had to go. It was for the independence of their country. Sham had asked his mother why it was important to attend this one event out of all the others happening in the locality. If it were possible, his future self would answer the question by saying that this one event would go down in Indian history as one of the most cruel massacres- the Jallianwala Bagh massacre.
“This is for our country. Bapu wants us to stop fighting each other. He says we shouldn’t be violent.”
“Violent? What is the meaning of violent?” asked Sham when his mother tried to explain why they had to come.
“Violence means causing physical harm.”
Sham snapped back into the moment- he looked at the still-alive baby.
The now dead mother’s grip over her baby had loosened and the baby had rolled on to the dust on the ground. Sham, who was hiding behind a pile of dead men and women, decided to wait till the gunshots stopped. All this while he intently watched the baby, who was now crying in yearn for his mother’s comfort.
The baby’s mouth was covered with mud and Sham had an unstoppable voice in his head warning him that if Sham did not hurry and rescue the baby, the baby might swallow the mud. Oh no, what if the baby had already swallowed the mud? He decided that as soon as the gunshots would stop, he would take the baby to the well to clean him. But for now, Sham could only wait. And while he did, he watched out for survivors and soldiers alike.
One of the soldiers patrolled the ground. The soldier had to navigate through a track made out of soil, blood, and the slaughtered. A sanguinary stench mixed with the subtle smell of stale tears lingered in the air. To Sham, the soldier looked shocked beyond his wits. He looked like did not to want to be in the heart of the blood bath. But he had to do his job. And that he did. And unfortunately, unlike Sham prayed, the soldier noticed the baby lying in the mud. He picked the baby up in his arms and yelled, “there’s one here too! What should we-”
The soldier was cut off mid sentence. Then it all happened so suddenly, at bullet’s speed, that Sham initially did not understand. The soldier had suddenly spun in his spot and, in his spin, he lost hold of the baby. Then the baby disappeared, only to reappear at a ten-foot distance from where Sham hid.
This time, the baby slept infinitely, forever bound to his curlicue. Parts of the baby’s face had ripped themselves off the rest of the baby’s flesh while blood poured out from the baby’s head like a river flowing away from a mountain’s peak. And like the river, the baby floated away to another place: hopefully a place where a peaceful-protest against violence was actually peaceful.
Sham screamed. He screamed louder than a widower mourning his wife’s death. He screamed louder than a pregnant mother in labor, unable to push her baby into the world. He screamed louder than a slave whipped on his bare back for not having collected enough cotton. He screamed louder than he thought he ever could have. He screamed louder than he ever would in his entire life. He screamed as loud as he could.
Then, he covered his face with his little fingers.
*
The supine mother’s grip over her baby had now loosened and the baby rolled on to the soft bed. It had become hotter and the pair of mother and son had drops of sweat on the sides of their cheeks. Then suddenly, the mother and child were awakened by a loud scream. Scared, the baby began to weep.
“Honey! What are you doing on the floor!”
As she gently rocked her wailing baby back into his sleep, she said to Sham, “Baby, we’re parents now. You can’t do memory lane anymore! We have a child! We have to be responsible! You need to quit the drugs!”
“I know. I’m very sorry sweetheart. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“It’s okay this time baby. But what happened to you? Why did you scream? Are you okay?”
“ It’s just that on my trip down the memory lane, I saw how someone in the Brigadier-General Reginald Dyer army blew my baby brother’s brains out in front of my eyes.”
|
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | So I'm new here, and I figured this would be a good way to brush up on my creative writing. I'm sorry if it's terrible! Anyway, enjoy!
I started through the stained mirror, finally glancing away from the cracks at the corner, and back at my bloodshot eyes, trying to remember how many times I put myself through this. Was this the eighth time, or the ninth? Which time was it that the tremors started up? Shit, my skin is turning yellow, or is that mustard? It was pale last time, it had to have been. Just keep going, once I remember it'll be fine-no, I have to remember.- My body can heal, right? It's worth it. Focus! I have to have this memory, I have to know where they took her!
Get a grip. We were at the museum that day, she finally got to see that new geology exhibit - she was so happy, damn it! We got hot dogs next, yeah, the salty smell of processed guts with a slight tang in the air from that loose ketchup. Oh, that needle stings more than usual- focus!
This was a great idea, just what we needed; a father daughter outing. She looks adorable in that little dress, I'm raising a little strawberry shortcake. "Come on Kyra, let's get to the movie theater so we can get the bar seats!" God, it's good to see her smiling again after everything. Now, which way to the movies again? I know we can take a left on Adams, but let's take Nash. There's a nice park up that road, I'm sure Kyra wouldn't mind seeing some trees. -This is it, finally! Come on, just focus a little longer.- "Daddy can I climb a tree, pleeeeaaase? " How can you say no to that? "Sure, Kyra, but let's make it quick! The Muppets are waiting!" she looked slightly odd grabbing onto that gritty bark in that cherry red dress and struggling to hoist herself up.
Wait, I never moved to help her up, they knocked me out by then. Why am I grabbing her so firmly? This isn't right! What the hell is going on? It was me? I can't. Stop this Goddamn memory!
The foul acidic burn from the vomit gripping my nostrils is better than enduring that memory. It couldn't have been me. It couldn't have. "come out with your hands up!" I guess there's a reason I was the only suspect. I really hope this shard does the trick. "Stop! I'm halfway through, let me end myself!" Why did they barge in? They can't put me through worse than that. Do they really think they can rehabilitate me? | I forgot about this one.
I had only ever dropped Mindy-Lou twice before and didn't remember it being this visceral. The instant feeling of nausea mixed with desperation was like a punch to the gut. There was blood on my hands, and nothing I could do to save him.
Sometimes you try so hard to block a memory out that it eventually feels as though it honestly never happened. But your brain is powerful, and right now mine was having no trouble remembering the night that Phil died.
It seems odd that it is the sound of that tire which is standing out the most. That fucking tire still spinning slowly as the jeep, upside down and surrounded my broken glass, sits only a few feet away.
Phil was laying on the asphalt with his head in my lap. He was looking up at me, his eyes screaming for me to help him but only quiet gurgles coming out of his mouth.
I was suddenly struck by the fact that it was 12 years ago this week that I quit drinking. And now I remember why.
I don't think I like this drug anymore.
|
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "It's called Memory Lane. It takes you back to a moment in your life, and let's you relive it like it is actually happening. Everything feels the same. Sights, smells, touch, feelings, and emotions. It's an amazing sensation." She rattled on and on, but I wasn't convinced.
"Why would anyone want to relive past moments?" I sure as hell wouldn't. My life has been full of pain and sorrow, so much so that I can barely remember any happy memories.
"Are you KIDDING me? You can experience anything and everything for the first time again. You can remember great moments again and again." Her eyes became brighter and brighter as she continued to list all the amazing things ML does for people.
I still wasn't convinced, but I thought "Fuck it... I'll do one." I inhaled a spray of ML from an inhaler. I was instantly transported back 16 years...but I couldn't move, or speak on my own accord. I was literally in the moment, in control of nothing, an observer in my own body.
"Wait..." I thought, "I know where I am. I know when I am...no...NO." I was there, in Philadelphia, on July 8th, 1999. The night before my father died. "No...I can't do this again. I just...can't." I pleaded with myself, somehow thinking if I begged my brain hard enough the memory would change. I knew once I went to sleep I'd be awoken by my frantic mother. I knew I'd have to relive the moment of frivolous attempting CPR on my father's lifeless body. I'd relive the moment when I lashed out at the ER doctor when he told me my father was dead. Wake up...please wake up. Snap out of this...
I didnt wake up, and my memory of this night became clearer to me. I knew what was going to happen next. I watched as my body got up from its seat and moved out into the living room. As I turned the corner I saw him... "Happy birthday Dad! I know I don't say this often, but I love you." My heart broke...I should have said it more often to him.
"It's OK, son. I was 17 once too. I know you do." I heard my father's voice, for the first time in 16 years, say. I had forgotten what his voice sounded like...
"Thanks pops..." I felt my body plop down next to him on the couch, and give him a hug. I had forgotten how he smelled like Brut aftershave. I had forgotten how safe I felt in his embrace. I had forgotten a lot of things.
"You know what, son... I'm glad we had a chance this year to get closer. I know I spent too much time focused on your older brother when you both were growing up. I'm sorry for that." My father lamented. What the hell...? I don't remember this at all.
"Dad...my brother got your time because of baseball, but that's about all he got. I got your time for movies, arcades, libraries, museums, whatever I wanted to do. It may have not been all that much time, but it was always more than enough." I heard myself say, but didn't believe it. I don't remember this conversation. I don't remember my father apologizing to me for not doing enough. He always did more than enough...
"Well, kid, when you have your own children learn from my mistake. Spend as much time with each of them as possible. You never know when time will run out." He said with a smile and lighthearted chuckle.
We sat and watched TV, as we did 16 years ago. We cracked jokes, we poked fun at each other, and we channel surfed...just like we did that fateful day. I never knew the happiest moment of my life was just sitting and watching TV with my dad on his birthday, until now.
Then everything went black.
"How was it?" I heard a familiar voice ask. "What memory did you have??" It was my friend.
"I...I went back to the night before my dad died."
"OH MY GOD...I'm so sorry. I forgot to tell you that ML picks a random memory. I never had to relive anything horrific before..."
"No...actually...it was good. I got to see my dad again. I got to hear something he said back then that I completely forgot about. I...I... thank you. I've always said I'd give anything in this world to spend one more moment with him. So...thank you."
I packed up my things and got ready to leave. "Where are you going?" She asked.
"I'm going home to be with my kids." | I forgot about this one.
I had only ever dropped Mindy-Lou twice before and didn't remember it being this visceral. The instant feeling of nausea mixed with desperation was like a punch to the gut. There was blood on my hands, and nothing I could do to save him.
Sometimes you try so hard to block a memory out that it eventually feels as though it honestly never happened. But your brain is powerful, and right now mine was having no trouble remembering the night that Phil died.
It seems odd that it is the sound of that tire which is standing out the most. That fucking tire still spinning slowly as the jeep, upside down and surrounded my broken glass, sits only a few feet away.
Phil was laying on the asphalt with his head in my lap. He was looking up at me, his eyes screaming for me to help him but only quiet gurgles coming out of his mouth.
I was suddenly struck by the fact that it was 12 years ago this week that I quit drinking. And now I remember why.
I don't think I like this drug anymore.
|
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
Inhale. Just like he told me, I hold my breath. I let it fill my lungs. I let the drug take over. Clouds of past memories filled my mind, nothing clear yet, as if the drug was slowly walking down memory lane, looking into doors of each memory, but not yet committing to one. Eventually, though, it stops, choosing a door, a memory, a decision based completly randomly. I hope its a good one. Exhale.
I pass out.
"Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
I wake up.
"Well, how was it?" Joe asks. | I forgot about this one.
I had only ever dropped Mindy-Lou twice before and didn't remember it being this visceral. The instant feeling of nausea mixed with desperation was like a punch to the gut. There was blood on my hands, and nothing I could do to save him.
Sometimes you try so hard to block a memory out that it eventually feels as though it honestly never happened. But your brain is powerful, and right now mine was having no trouble remembering the night that Phil died.
It seems odd that it is the sound of that tire which is standing out the most. That fucking tire still spinning slowly as the jeep, upside down and surrounded my broken glass, sits only a few feet away.
Phil was laying on the asphalt with his head in my lap. He was looking up at me, his eyes screaming for me to help him but only quiet gurgles coming out of his mouth.
I was suddenly struck by the fact that it was 12 years ago this week that I quit drinking. And now I remember why.
I don't think I like this drug anymore.
|
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | I found out about it from a friend... never did anything like this before but I figured what the hell...
Looking into the mirror... down the hatch...
There she was, beautiful. Raven hair, blue eyes, tall... Gorgeous...
"Have a good day sweetheart" she said before we left.
Same usual day, same usual school, same usual lunch. Coloring, nap time, recess (my favorite). We played outside that day. It was cool, but not cold. I love the swings. All to myself today.
Back in class, back to work. I love story time.
The teacher read as we lay on our mats. Almost nap time. Of course I'm not tired! How could I be? Today is great!
The bus ride home was okay... Same old bus... But my sister is there, she always makes boring go away...
He met us in the driveway... What's wrong? Something is wrong...
"I'm sorry girls" he said with tears in his eyes... "she's gone..."
I woke on the floor and stared at the ceiling.... I miss my mommy... | I forgot about this one.
I had only ever dropped Mindy-Lou twice before and didn't remember it being this visceral. The instant feeling of nausea mixed with desperation was like a punch to the gut. There was blood on my hands, and nothing I could do to save him.
Sometimes you try so hard to block a memory out that it eventually feels as though it honestly never happened. But your brain is powerful, and right now mine was having no trouble remembering the night that Phil died.
It seems odd that it is the sound of that tire which is standing out the most. That fucking tire still spinning slowly as the jeep, upside down and surrounded my broken glass, sits only a few feet away.
Phil was laying on the asphalt with his head in my lap. He was looking up at me, his eyes screaming for me to help him but only quiet gurgles coming out of his mouth.
I was suddenly struck by the fact that it was 12 years ago this week that I quit drinking. And now I remember why.
I don't think I like this drug anymore.
|
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Are you serious?", I said as I looked around the room and all the smiling faces. " you're joking right? Like this actually works?"
My friends invited me over for our bi-monthly trip. I wasn't really a fan. I always end up freaking out and breaking something.
"Yeah dude seriously. Take this and you can relive a memory. It's random though so if you got molested as a child things could get weird." I was intrigued but kind of hesitant. My childhood was boring. Like what if I get a memory that is just me sitting in my room watching school of rock and eating a hot pocket? I guess it's not that bad. I haven't seen that movie in a while.
"I think I want to watch someone else do it first", I said
"Alright, Katie you brought them. You go first"
Katie was a bitch, but she always had drugs so I guess she is cool.
Katie opened her bag and pulled out a canister. It looked like it was from space. She twisted the top and with a satisfying click the corner of a plastic bag popped out. She pulled out the plastic bag and I was done.
"That's meth. I'm doing meth you idiots", I angrily shouted.
Katie rolled her eyes and said, "it's not meth. Chill out. Just watch".
Just like someone would do with meth she laid it on the table, crushed it, and snorted it.
"Seriously?"
"Shut up just watch"
Katie laid her head back and blacked out. Ten seconds later she wakes up and smiles.
"How long was I out?"
"Like a few seconds", I said
"Really?! It felt like at least two hours. Anyways, my memory was pretty crazy. It was a fight I got into with this chick in middle school. I broke her nose. It was a pretty funny memory. That's really it. Somebody else go."
Everyone looked at me. I began to sweat. I thought for a moment and gave in.
"Fine I'll do it"
Slowly I take the crystal looking memory drug and crushed it. I stared at it for a moment and went down and let it travel through my nose.
I laid my head back and waited. I was nervous but I couldn't let anyone know that. I took one last deep breath and everything changed. I heard noises. Familiar noises. My parents. Images of my childhood flashed in front of my eyes. They started getting longer and slowing down until a final scene stopped and I dove into the memory.
"Are you serious?", I said as I looked around the room and all the smiling faces. " you're joking right? Like this actually works?"
My friends invited me over for our bi-monthly trip. I wasn't really a fan. I always end up freaking out and breaking something.
"Yeah dude seriously. Take this and you can relive a memory. It's random though so if you got molested as a child things could get weird." I was intrigued but kind of hesitant. My childhood was boring. Like what if I get a memory that is just me sitting in my room watching school of rock and eating a hot pocket? I guess it's not that bad. I haven't seen that movie in a while.
"I think I want to watch someone else do it first", I said
"Alright, Katie you brought them. You go first"
Katie was a bitch, but she always had drugs so I guess she is cool.
Katie opened her bag and pulled out a canister. It looked like it was from space. She twisted the top and with a satisfying click the corner of a plastic bag popped out. She pulled out the plastic bag and I was done.
"That's meth. I'm doing meth you idiots", I angrily shouted.
Katie rolled her eyes and said, "it's not meth. Chill out. Just watch".
Just like someone would do with meth she laid it on the table, crushed it, and snorted it.
"Seriously?"
"Shut up just watch"
Katie laid her head back and blacked out. Ten seconds later she wakes up and smiles.
"How long was I out?"
"Like a few seconds", I said
"Really?! It felt like at least two hours. Anyways, my memory was pretty crazy. It was a fight I got into with this chick in middle school. I broke her nose. It was a pretty funny memory. That's really it. Somebody else go."
Everyone looked at me. I began to sweat. I thought for a moment and gave in.
"Fine I'll do it"
Slowly I take the crystal looking memory drug and crushed it. I stared at it for a moment and went down and let it travel through my nose.
I woke up and everyone was looking at me.
"What did you see?"
I was so pissed.
"Yeah, It didn't work. Everything was black. I'm just gonna go home"
| I forgot about this one.
I had only ever dropped Mindy-Lou twice before and didn't remember it being this visceral. The instant feeling of nausea mixed with desperation was like a punch to the gut. There was blood on my hands, and nothing I could do to save him.
Sometimes you try so hard to block a memory out that it eventually feels as though it honestly never happened. But your brain is powerful, and right now mine was having no trouble remembering the night that Phil died.
It seems odd that it is the sound of that tire which is standing out the most. That fucking tire still spinning slowly as the jeep, upside down and surrounded my broken glass, sits only a few feet away.
Phil was laying on the asphalt with his head in my lap. He was looking up at me, his eyes screaming for me to help him but only quiet gurgles coming out of his mouth.
I was suddenly struck by the fact that it was 12 years ago this week that I quit drinking. And now I remember why.
I don't think I like this drug anymore.
|
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | At first when I heard about it, I was afraid. I knew I just had to try it. It's all the rage. It's been dubbed as "Better than LSD," "More fun than anything you've ever had before," and so on. But I was going to be the judge of that. I called up my dealer, Todd. He said he just got some, was selling it at a pretty steep price. I cut a deal, and we were going to meet in an hour at the usual spot.
I arrived, and Todd was about to light some up himself. He gave me a small bag of a light blue, almost teal, substance. I forgot my lighter at home, so I had to borrow Todd's. The two of us rolled this stuff like cigarettes, and started smoking. Immediately I was back in my childhood home.
I had no idea how old I was, or what this was. I was sitting in my room, but it wasn't me. I felt as if I was a ghost, floating above myself, staring down, judging. Like that feeling you get when you think somebody's watching you. Except this time, you are actually watching.
I heard a banging at the door, and my former self snapped straight to it, with a face of fear on his, or my, face. I watched as my father slammed open the door, belt in one hand, beer in the other. I watched as I backed into the corner of my room, near to my old closet. I remember the door being broken later in my life. Was this why?
My father grew closer and closer. And with each step, I shuddered. I was so afraid. But why? My father was never aggressive, as far as I remember. Hell, I don't even remember who my dad was. Which helped me to realize that I must have been at most 14 years old when this happened. Although my interpretation of time isn't my strongest point.
My father was right over me now. I wasn't sure what would come first, the empty bottle or the belt. I was crouched in the corner, bracing for what could be the worst pain a child could feel. With myself looking away, I couldn't see what it was that brought with it the most horrible pain I'd ever felt in my life. I watched myself slouch over.
I opened my eyes to a crowd of spectators and a hospital crew. Todd had shook me awake. I looked around, gathered my surroundings, and tried to stand myself up. But why can't I move anymore? I'm staring straight at Todd, but I'm stuck. I stared at Todd, screaming for help. The EMTs had grabbed me, and put me in the ambulance while running so many tests on me. But couldn't they see I was awake? I'm right here, dammit! Why are you doing this? I'm OK!
They ignored me. I stopped screaming, I was wasting my time. I was just going to have to deal with this shit, and I could get on with my day. But then I saw my mother was there. Why was she here? I'm OK, and how did she even know where I was? How did they call her here so fast? I was only out for a few minutes. And now why is she crying? What is going on? Somebody, please, why?!
As the ambulance doors shut, I noticed that I wasn't in good shape. I had a mask over my face, tubes everywhere, and I felt like I was going to pass out. I reached for the phone. I needed to call Jackie. She needs to know I'm OK. But then I heard it again. The crying from the corner. Except this time, it wasn't my own. I caught a glimpse of my mother, Jackie, and Daisy in the corner of the room. But when did I get in this room? When did that phone I had just reached out for appear? And what happened to the ambulance doors?
A doctor walked in. I knew I was in trouble, but I recognized this place now. It was a hospital. More specifically, it was the hospital room where I was. I watched as the doctor spoke softly. Why was he speaking so low? I watched his mouth move, and heard a faint whisper that I couldn't quite make out. Then I watched as the crying grew louder and more frantic. I began to cry. But why are there no tears?
Around now it finally dawned on me. Am I dead? Why can't I use my own body? All I could do was sit there and watch, as my loved ones just watched me. A month passed. Then another. I noticed time passing faster and faster, and my senses growing less respondent. I wanted so desperately to wake up from this nightmare. I never asked for this. I never wanted any of this. I watched Jackie's visits become less and less frequent. If only she knew what kind of affect she had on me when she was around. Her visits where the highlights of my short periods of consciousness.
I looked at the clock. The hands were spinning. Hours became seconds. Days went by in the blink of an eye. When suddenly, it all stopped. The clock slowed down to normal time, and I could move again. I sat myself up, and looked around. I was alone. But I wasn't in the hospital anymore. Now I was sitting back in my room. I looked at my side, and Jackie was there, sleeping.
I got out of bed slowly. I didn't want to wake her. I walked into the kitchen, sat down, and started bawling. Why did it have to be that? I'd heard stories of people reliving their first vacation, their first time, the moment they were born even. Why did I have to get the coma? I looked at the table, and saw the picture of myself, my mother, and Jackie. It must have been after the coma. I had a large plump of hair missing on the right side of my head, just above my ear. If it had been just an inch lower, I'd be half deaf right now. Damn was I lucky.
I started heading back to the bedroom, I had work in the morning and I needed all the sleep I could get. I don't even know why I decided to try this stuff, I stopped my drug habits when I was 20. But I was told that this was THE thing. I should never have trusted Todd. Not after last time. I crawled back into bed with Jackie, and checked the clock. 2 AM. At least I can get a few hours of sleep before work in the morning. I, no, we left it all behind for a reason. And after this experience, I was never going back.
---------------------------
Very much enjoyed this prompt. I haven't written like that in a long time, felt good. Thanks OP! | I forgot about this one.
I had only ever dropped Mindy-Lou twice before and didn't remember it being this visceral. The instant feeling of nausea mixed with desperation was like a punch to the gut. There was blood on my hands, and nothing I could do to save him.
Sometimes you try so hard to block a memory out that it eventually feels as though it honestly never happened. But your brain is powerful, and right now mine was having no trouble remembering the night that Phil died.
It seems odd that it is the sound of that tire which is standing out the most. That fucking tire still spinning slowly as the jeep, upside down and surrounded my broken glass, sits only a few feet away.
Phil was laying on the asphalt with his head in my lap. He was looking up at me, his eyes screaming for me to help him but only quiet gurgles coming out of his mouth.
I was suddenly struck by the fact that it was 12 years ago this week that I quit drinking. And now I remember why.
I don't think I like this drug anymore.
|
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | So I'm new here, and I figured this would be a good way to brush up on my creative writing. I'm sorry if it's terrible! Anyway, enjoy!
I started through the stained mirror, finally glancing away from the cracks at the corner, and back at my bloodshot eyes, trying to remember how many times I put myself through this. Was this the eighth time, or the ninth? Which time was it that the tremors started up? Shit, my skin is turning yellow, or is that mustard? It was pale last time, it had to have been. Just keep going, once I remember it'll be fine-no, I have to remember.- My body can heal, right? It's worth it. Focus! I have to have this memory, I have to know where they took her!
Get a grip. We were at the museum that day, she finally got to see that new geology exhibit - she was so happy, damn it! We got hot dogs next, yeah, the salty smell of processed guts with a slight tang in the air from that loose ketchup. Oh, that needle stings more than usual- focus!
This was a great idea, just what we needed; a father daughter outing. She looks adorable in that little dress, I'm raising a little strawberry shortcake. "Come on Kyra, let's get to the movie theater so we can get the bar seats!" God, it's good to see her smiling again after everything. Now, which way to the movies again? I know we can take a left on Adams, but let's take Nash. There's a nice park up that road, I'm sure Kyra wouldn't mind seeing some trees. -This is it, finally! Come on, just focus a little longer.- "Daddy can I climb a tree, pleeeeaaase? " How can you say no to that? "Sure, Kyra, but let's make it quick! The Muppets are waiting!" she looked slightly odd grabbing onto that gritty bark in that cherry red dress and struggling to hoist herself up.
Wait, I never moved to help her up, they knocked me out by then. Why am I grabbing her so firmly? This isn't right! What the hell is going on? It was me? I can't. Stop this Goddamn memory!
The foul acidic burn from the vomit gripping my nostrils is better than enduring that memory. It couldn't have been me. It couldn't have. "come out with your hands up!" I guess there's a reason I was the only suspect. I really hope this shard does the trick. "Stop! I'm halfway through, let me end myself!" Why did they barge in? They can't put me through worse than that. Do they really think they can rehabilitate me? | It hit me like a train.
No—*fuck*!
It *was* a train.
The steel behemoth clawed at the tracks, ripping a path straight towards me. The shrieking, the rumbling, the relentless shuddering of the metal beneath my feet, it all crescendo’d into a demonic plea for me to leave those tracks. I had to jump. I remembered thinking that. I remember sweat pooling between clenched palms and that crazy idea banging around my head: *stay*. *Don’t move*. *Die*.
I was a coward; I no longer had the strength to move.
Any moment, the brakes would screech and I would be saved. That same thought teased its way into my mind too. Only, the screeching never came; not then, not now. That smoke, black as the reaper himself, exploded out of the behemoth’s head, and all I could imagine was my blood mixing with it.
Just like that day, I held my arms out.
Three.
Two.
On—
"*Idiot*!"
Pain flared through my skull the moment it cracked against the track. Another body tumbled with mine, rolling and scraping against nails and wood, and when the world stopped spinning, the most beautiful face hung over me. *An angel*. I was sure of it.
With a bloodied arm, I reached out to her, though I couldn’t say why.
She slapped my hand away. "The hell were you thinkin’?"
Colors clouded my vision, blocking my view of the girl. I swatted at them like gnats. "You’re beautiful."
The girl leaned closer. "And you’re bleeding. Heavily."
I couldn’t help but laugh.
"Suicidal lunatic is what you are. Bout to start hallucinatin’ to that concussion."
*Concussion*! *Ha*! Laughter bubbled at my lips, and even though I tried to hold it back, it was contagious. The more I pushed it away, the stronger it came back. It wasn’t long before I was stuck in an endless loop of laugh, cringe, laugh, cringe. My head was killing me, quite literally.
"I think I love you," I said.
The girl’s glare softened into a frown, but the more ridiculous I became, the more her frown became a grin, and eventually a smile. "Maybe I shoulda let that train hit you. Maybe you wanted it, but I wanted to hear your story first. Couldn’t live with myself if I watched you die." My tongue twisted my words into a garbled mess; finally the girl laughed and I felt so happy with myself. "C’mon. My mom’s a doctor."
Her hands were warm. *I think I love you*. *I think I*…
The drug’s memory came to an end. No. I had to have more. I had to see her again, my sweet Caroline. I’d sell everything I owned if it just meant a chance to see her face one last time.
*My sweet Caroline*.
|
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "It's called Memory Lane. It takes you back to a moment in your life, and let's you relive it like it is actually happening. Everything feels the same. Sights, smells, touch, feelings, and emotions. It's an amazing sensation." She rattled on and on, but I wasn't convinced.
"Why would anyone want to relive past moments?" I sure as hell wouldn't. My life has been full of pain and sorrow, so much so that I can barely remember any happy memories.
"Are you KIDDING me? You can experience anything and everything for the first time again. You can remember great moments again and again." Her eyes became brighter and brighter as she continued to list all the amazing things ML does for people.
I still wasn't convinced, but I thought "Fuck it... I'll do one." I inhaled a spray of ML from an inhaler. I was instantly transported back 16 years...but I couldn't move, or speak on my own accord. I was literally in the moment, in control of nothing, an observer in my own body.
"Wait..." I thought, "I know where I am. I know when I am...no...NO." I was there, in Philadelphia, on July 8th, 1999. The night before my father died. "No...I can't do this again. I just...can't." I pleaded with myself, somehow thinking if I begged my brain hard enough the memory would change. I knew once I went to sleep I'd be awoken by my frantic mother. I knew I'd have to relive the moment of frivolous attempting CPR on my father's lifeless body. I'd relive the moment when I lashed out at the ER doctor when he told me my father was dead. Wake up...please wake up. Snap out of this...
I didnt wake up, and my memory of this night became clearer to me. I knew what was going to happen next. I watched as my body got up from its seat and moved out into the living room. As I turned the corner I saw him... "Happy birthday Dad! I know I don't say this often, but I love you." My heart broke...I should have said it more often to him.
"It's OK, son. I was 17 once too. I know you do." I heard my father's voice, for the first time in 16 years, say. I had forgotten what his voice sounded like...
"Thanks pops..." I felt my body plop down next to him on the couch, and give him a hug. I had forgotten how he smelled like Brut aftershave. I had forgotten how safe I felt in his embrace. I had forgotten a lot of things.
"You know what, son... I'm glad we had a chance this year to get closer. I know I spent too much time focused on your older brother when you both were growing up. I'm sorry for that." My father lamented. What the hell...? I don't remember this at all.
"Dad...my brother got your time because of baseball, but that's about all he got. I got your time for movies, arcades, libraries, museums, whatever I wanted to do. It may have not been all that much time, but it was always more than enough." I heard myself say, but didn't believe it. I don't remember this conversation. I don't remember my father apologizing to me for not doing enough. He always did more than enough...
"Well, kid, when you have your own children learn from my mistake. Spend as much time with each of them as possible. You never know when time will run out." He said with a smile and lighthearted chuckle.
We sat and watched TV, as we did 16 years ago. We cracked jokes, we poked fun at each other, and we channel surfed...just like we did that fateful day. I never knew the happiest moment of my life was just sitting and watching TV with my dad on his birthday, until now.
Then everything went black.
"How was it?" I heard a familiar voice ask. "What memory did you have??" It was my friend.
"I...I went back to the night before my dad died."
"OH MY GOD...I'm so sorry. I forgot to tell you that ML picks a random memory. I never had to relive anything horrific before..."
"No...actually...it was good. I got to see my dad again. I got to hear something he said back then that I completely forgot about. I...I... thank you. I've always said I'd give anything in this world to spend one more moment with him. So...thank you."
I packed up my things and got ready to leave. "Where are you going?" She asked.
"I'm going home to be with my kids." | It hit me like a train.
No—*fuck*!
It *was* a train.
The steel behemoth clawed at the tracks, ripping a path straight towards me. The shrieking, the rumbling, the relentless shuddering of the metal beneath my feet, it all crescendo’d into a demonic plea for me to leave those tracks. I had to jump. I remembered thinking that. I remember sweat pooling between clenched palms and that crazy idea banging around my head: *stay*. *Don’t move*. *Die*.
I was a coward; I no longer had the strength to move.
Any moment, the brakes would screech and I would be saved. That same thought teased its way into my mind too. Only, the screeching never came; not then, not now. That smoke, black as the reaper himself, exploded out of the behemoth’s head, and all I could imagine was my blood mixing with it.
Just like that day, I held my arms out.
Three.
Two.
On—
"*Idiot*!"
Pain flared through my skull the moment it cracked against the track. Another body tumbled with mine, rolling and scraping against nails and wood, and when the world stopped spinning, the most beautiful face hung over me. *An angel*. I was sure of it.
With a bloodied arm, I reached out to her, though I couldn’t say why.
She slapped my hand away. "The hell were you thinkin’?"
Colors clouded my vision, blocking my view of the girl. I swatted at them like gnats. "You’re beautiful."
The girl leaned closer. "And you’re bleeding. Heavily."
I couldn’t help but laugh.
"Suicidal lunatic is what you are. Bout to start hallucinatin’ to that concussion."
*Concussion*! *Ha*! Laughter bubbled at my lips, and even though I tried to hold it back, it was contagious. The more I pushed it away, the stronger it came back. It wasn’t long before I was stuck in an endless loop of laugh, cringe, laugh, cringe. My head was killing me, quite literally.
"I think I love you," I said.
The girl’s glare softened into a frown, but the more ridiculous I became, the more her frown became a grin, and eventually a smile. "Maybe I shoulda let that train hit you. Maybe you wanted it, but I wanted to hear your story first. Couldn’t live with myself if I watched you die." My tongue twisted my words into a garbled mess; finally the girl laughed and I felt so happy with myself. "C’mon. My mom’s a doctor."
Her hands were warm. *I think I love you*. *I think I*…
The drug’s memory came to an end. No. I had to have more. I had to see her again, my sweet Caroline. I’d sell everything I owned if it just meant a chance to see her face one last time.
*My sweet Caroline*.
|
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
Inhale. Just like he told me, I hold my breath. I let it fill my lungs. I let the drug take over. Clouds of past memories filled my mind, nothing clear yet, as if the drug was slowly walking down memory lane, looking into doors of each memory, but not yet committing to one. Eventually, though, it stops, choosing a door, a memory, a decision based completly randomly. I hope its a good one. Exhale.
I pass out.
"Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
I wake up.
"Well, how was it?" Joe asks. | It hit me like a train.
No—*fuck*!
It *was* a train.
The steel behemoth clawed at the tracks, ripping a path straight towards me. The shrieking, the rumbling, the relentless shuddering of the metal beneath my feet, it all crescendo’d into a demonic plea for me to leave those tracks. I had to jump. I remembered thinking that. I remember sweat pooling between clenched palms and that crazy idea banging around my head: *stay*. *Don’t move*. *Die*.
I was a coward; I no longer had the strength to move.
Any moment, the brakes would screech and I would be saved. That same thought teased its way into my mind too. Only, the screeching never came; not then, not now. That smoke, black as the reaper himself, exploded out of the behemoth’s head, and all I could imagine was my blood mixing with it.
Just like that day, I held my arms out.
Three.
Two.
On—
"*Idiot*!"
Pain flared through my skull the moment it cracked against the track. Another body tumbled with mine, rolling and scraping against nails and wood, and when the world stopped spinning, the most beautiful face hung over me. *An angel*. I was sure of it.
With a bloodied arm, I reached out to her, though I couldn’t say why.
She slapped my hand away. "The hell were you thinkin’?"
Colors clouded my vision, blocking my view of the girl. I swatted at them like gnats. "You’re beautiful."
The girl leaned closer. "And you’re bleeding. Heavily."
I couldn’t help but laugh.
"Suicidal lunatic is what you are. Bout to start hallucinatin’ to that concussion."
*Concussion*! *Ha*! Laughter bubbled at my lips, and even though I tried to hold it back, it was contagious. The more I pushed it away, the stronger it came back. It wasn’t long before I was stuck in an endless loop of laugh, cringe, laugh, cringe. My head was killing me, quite literally.
"I think I love you," I said.
The girl’s glare softened into a frown, but the more ridiculous I became, the more her frown became a grin, and eventually a smile. "Maybe I shoulda let that train hit you. Maybe you wanted it, but I wanted to hear your story first. Couldn’t live with myself if I watched you die." My tongue twisted my words into a garbled mess; finally the girl laughed and I felt so happy with myself. "C’mon. My mom’s a doctor."
Her hands were warm. *I think I love you*. *I think I*…
The drug’s memory came to an end. No. I had to have more. I had to see her again, my sweet Caroline. I’d sell everything I owned if it just meant a chance to see her face one last time.
*My sweet Caroline*.
|
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | I found out about it from a friend... never did anything like this before but I figured what the hell...
Looking into the mirror... down the hatch...
There she was, beautiful. Raven hair, blue eyes, tall... Gorgeous...
"Have a good day sweetheart" she said before we left.
Same usual day, same usual school, same usual lunch. Coloring, nap time, recess (my favorite). We played outside that day. It was cool, but not cold. I love the swings. All to myself today.
Back in class, back to work. I love story time.
The teacher read as we lay on our mats. Almost nap time. Of course I'm not tired! How could I be? Today is great!
The bus ride home was okay... Same old bus... But my sister is there, she always makes boring go away...
He met us in the driveway... What's wrong? Something is wrong...
"I'm sorry girls" he said with tears in his eyes... "she's gone..."
I woke on the floor and stared at the ceiling.... I miss my mommy... | It hit me like a train.
No—*fuck*!
It *was* a train.
The steel behemoth clawed at the tracks, ripping a path straight towards me. The shrieking, the rumbling, the relentless shuddering of the metal beneath my feet, it all crescendo’d into a demonic plea for me to leave those tracks. I had to jump. I remembered thinking that. I remember sweat pooling between clenched palms and that crazy idea banging around my head: *stay*. *Don’t move*. *Die*.
I was a coward; I no longer had the strength to move.
Any moment, the brakes would screech and I would be saved. That same thought teased its way into my mind too. Only, the screeching never came; not then, not now. That smoke, black as the reaper himself, exploded out of the behemoth’s head, and all I could imagine was my blood mixing with it.
Just like that day, I held my arms out.
Three.
Two.
On—
"*Idiot*!"
Pain flared through my skull the moment it cracked against the track. Another body tumbled with mine, rolling and scraping against nails and wood, and when the world stopped spinning, the most beautiful face hung over me. *An angel*. I was sure of it.
With a bloodied arm, I reached out to her, though I couldn’t say why.
She slapped my hand away. "The hell were you thinkin’?"
Colors clouded my vision, blocking my view of the girl. I swatted at them like gnats. "You’re beautiful."
The girl leaned closer. "And you’re bleeding. Heavily."
I couldn’t help but laugh.
"Suicidal lunatic is what you are. Bout to start hallucinatin’ to that concussion."
*Concussion*! *Ha*! Laughter bubbled at my lips, and even though I tried to hold it back, it was contagious. The more I pushed it away, the stronger it came back. It wasn’t long before I was stuck in an endless loop of laugh, cringe, laugh, cringe. My head was killing me, quite literally.
"I think I love you," I said.
The girl’s glare softened into a frown, but the more ridiculous I became, the more her frown became a grin, and eventually a smile. "Maybe I shoulda let that train hit you. Maybe you wanted it, but I wanted to hear your story first. Couldn’t live with myself if I watched you die." My tongue twisted my words into a garbled mess; finally the girl laughed and I felt so happy with myself. "C’mon. My mom’s a doctor."
Her hands were warm. *I think I love you*. *I think I*…
The drug’s memory came to an end. No. I had to have more. I had to see her again, my sweet Caroline. I’d sell everything I owned if it just meant a chance to see her face one last time.
*My sweet Caroline*.
|
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Are you serious?", I said as I looked around the room and all the smiling faces. " you're joking right? Like this actually works?"
My friends invited me over for our bi-monthly trip. I wasn't really a fan. I always end up freaking out and breaking something.
"Yeah dude seriously. Take this and you can relive a memory. It's random though so if you got molested as a child things could get weird." I was intrigued but kind of hesitant. My childhood was boring. Like what if I get a memory that is just me sitting in my room watching school of rock and eating a hot pocket? I guess it's not that bad. I haven't seen that movie in a while.
"I think I want to watch someone else do it first", I said
"Alright, Katie you brought them. You go first"
Katie was a bitch, but she always had drugs so I guess she is cool.
Katie opened her bag and pulled out a canister. It looked like it was from space. She twisted the top and with a satisfying click the corner of a plastic bag popped out. She pulled out the plastic bag and I was done.
"That's meth. I'm doing meth you idiots", I angrily shouted.
Katie rolled her eyes and said, "it's not meth. Chill out. Just watch".
Just like someone would do with meth she laid it on the table, crushed it, and snorted it.
"Seriously?"
"Shut up just watch"
Katie laid her head back and blacked out. Ten seconds later she wakes up and smiles.
"How long was I out?"
"Like a few seconds", I said
"Really?! It felt like at least two hours. Anyways, my memory was pretty crazy. It was a fight I got into with this chick in middle school. I broke her nose. It was a pretty funny memory. That's really it. Somebody else go."
Everyone looked at me. I began to sweat. I thought for a moment and gave in.
"Fine I'll do it"
Slowly I take the crystal looking memory drug and crushed it. I stared at it for a moment and went down and let it travel through my nose.
I laid my head back and waited. I was nervous but I couldn't let anyone know that. I took one last deep breath and everything changed. I heard noises. Familiar noises. My parents. Images of my childhood flashed in front of my eyes. They started getting longer and slowing down until a final scene stopped and I dove into the memory.
"Are you serious?", I said as I looked around the room and all the smiling faces. " you're joking right? Like this actually works?"
My friends invited me over for our bi-monthly trip. I wasn't really a fan. I always end up freaking out and breaking something.
"Yeah dude seriously. Take this and you can relive a memory. It's random though so if you got molested as a child things could get weird." I was intrigued but kind of hesitant. My childhood was boring. Like what if I get a memory that is just me sitting in my room watching school of rock and eating a hot pocket? I guess it's not that bad. I haven't seen that movie in a while.
"I think I want to watch someone else do it first", I said
"Alright, Katie you brought them. You go first"
Katie was a bitch, but she always had drugs so I guess she is cool.
Katie opened her bag and pulled out a canister. It looked like it was from space. She twisted the top and with a satisfying click the corner of a plastic bag popped out. She pulled out the plastic bag and I was done.
"That's meth. I'm doing meth you idiots", I angrily shouted.
Katie rolled her eyes and said, "it's not meth. Chill out. Just watch".
Just like someone would do with meth she laid it on the table, crushed it, and snorted it.
"Seriously?"
"Shut up just watch"
Katie laid her head back and blacked out. Ten seconds later she wakes up and smiles.
"How long was I out?"
"Like a few seconds", I said
"Really?! It felt like at least two hours. Anyways, my memory was pretty crazy. It was a fight I got into with this chick in middle school. I broke her nose. It was a pretty funny memory. That's really it. Somebody else go."
Everyone looked at me. I began to sweat. I thought for a moment and gave in.
"Fine I'll do it"
Slowly I take the crystal looking memory drug and crushed it. I stared at it for a moment and went down and let it travel through my nose.
I woke up and everyone was looking at me.
"What did you see?"
I was so pissed.
"Yeah, It didn't work. Everything was black. I'm just gonna go home"
| It hit me like a train.
No—*fuck*!
It *was* a train.
The steel behemoth clawed at the tracks, ripping a path straight towards me. The shrieking, the rumbling, the relentless shuddering of the metal beneath my feet, it all crescendo’d into a demonic plea for me to leave those tracks. I had to jump. I remembered thinking that. I remember sweat pooling between clenched palms and that crazy idea banging around my head: *stay*. *Don’t move*. *Die*.
I was a coward; I no longer had the strength to move.
Any moment, the brakes would screech and I would be saved. That same thought teased its way into my mind too. Only, the screeching never came; not then, not now. That smoke, black as the reaper himself, exploded out of the behemoth’s head, and all I could imagine was my blood mixing with it.
Just like that day, I held my arms out.
Three.
Two.
On—
"*Idiot*!"
Pain flared through my skull the moment it cracked against the track. Another body tumbled with mine, rolling and scraping against nails and wood, and when the world stopped spinning, the most beautiful face hung over me. *An angel*. I was sure of it.
With a bloodied arm, I reached out to her, though I couldn’t say why.
She slapped my hand away. "The hell were you thinkin’?"
Colors clouded my vision, blocking my view of the girl. I swatted at them like gnats. "You’re beautiful."
The girl leaned closer. "And you’re bleeding. Heavily."
I couldn’t help but laugh.
"Suicidal lunatic is what you are. Bout to start hallucinatin’ to that concussion."
*Concussion*! *Ha*! Laughter bubbled at my lips, and even though I tried to hold it back, it was contagious. The more I pushed it away, the stronger it came back. It wasn’t long before I was stuck in an endless loop of laugh, cringe, laugh, cringe. My head was killing me, quite literally.
"I think I love you," I said.
The girl’s glare softened into a frown, but the more ridiculous I became, the more her frown became a grin, and eventually a smile. "Maybe I shoulda let that train hit you. Maybe you wanted it, but I wanted to hear your story first. Couldn’t live with myself if I watched you die." My tongue twisted my words into a garbled mess; finally the girl laughed and I felt so happy with myself. "C’mon. My mom’s a doctor."
Her hands were warm. *I think I love you*. *I think I*…
The drug’s memory came to an end. No. I had to have more. I had to see her again, my sweet Caroline. I’d sell everything I owned if it just meant a chance to see her face one last time.
*My sweet Caroline*.
|
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | At first when I heard about it, I was afraid. I knew I just had to try it. It's all the rage. It's been dubbed as "Better than LSD," "More fun than anything you've ever had before," and so on. But I was going to be the judge of that. I called up my dealer, Todd. He said he just got some, was selling it at a pretty steep price. I cut a deal, and we were going to meet in an hour at the usual spot.
I arrived, and Todd was about to light some up himself. He gave me a small bag of a light blue, almost teal, substance. I forgot my lighter at home, so I had to borrow Todd's. The two of us rolled this stuff like cigarettes, and started smoking. Immediately I was back in my childhood home.
I had no idea how old I was, or what this was. I was sitting in my room, but it wasn't me. I felt as if I was a ghost, floating above myself, staring down, judging. Like that feeling you get when you think somebody's watching you. Except this time, you are actually watching.
I heard a banging at the door, and my former self snapped straight to it, with a face of fear on his, or my, face. I watched as my father slammed open the door, belt in one hand, beer in the other. I watched as I backed into the corner of my room, near to my old closet. I remember the door being broken later in my life. Was this why?
My father grew closer and closer. And with each step, I shuddered. I was so afraid. But why? My father was never aggressive, as far as I remember. Hell, I don't even remember who my dad was. Which helped me to realize that I must have been at most 14 years old when this happened. Although my interpretation of time isn't my strongest point.
My father was right over me now. I wasn't sure what would come first, the empty bottle or the belt. I was crouched in the corner, bracing for what could be the worst pain a child could feel. With myself looking away, I couldn't see what it was that brought with it the most horrible pain I'd ever felt in my life. I watched myself slouch over.
I opened my eyes to a crowd of spectators and a hospital crew. Todd had shook me awake. I looked around, gathered my surroundings, and tried to stand myself up. But why can't I move anymore? I'm staring straight at Todd, but I'm stuck. I stared at Todd, screaming for help. The EMTs had grabbed me, and put me in the ambulance while running so many tests on me. But couldn't they see I was awake? I'm right here, dammit! Why are you doing this? I'm OK!
They ignored me. I stopped screaming, I was wasting my time. I was just going to have to deal with this shit, and I could get on with my day. But then I saw my mother was there. Why was she here? I'm OK, and how did she even know where I was? How did they call her here so fast? I was only out for a few minutes. And now why is she crying? What is going on? Somebody, please, why?!
As the ambulance doors shut, I noticed that I wasn't in good shape. I had a mask over my face, tubes everywhere, and I felt like I was going to pass out. I reached for the phone. I needed to call Jackie. She needs to know I'm OK. But then I heard it again. The crying from the corner. Except this time, it wasn't my own. I caught a glimpse of my mother, Jackie, and Daisy in the corner of the room. But when did I get in this room? When did that phone I had just reached out for appear? And what happened to the ambulance doors?
A doctor walked in. I knew I was in trouble, but I recognized this place now. It was a hospital. More specifically, it was the hospital room where I was. I watched as the doctor spoke softly. Why was he speaking so low? I watched his mouth move, and heard a faint whisper that I couldn't quite make out. Then I watched as the crying grew louder and more frantic. I began to cry. But why are there no tears?
Around now it finally dawned on me. Am I dead? Why can't I use my own body? All I could do was sit there and watch, as my loved ones just watched me. A month passed. Then another. I noticed time passing faster and faster, and my senses growing less respondent. I wanted so desperately to wake up from this nightmare. I never asked for this. I never wanted any of this. I watched Jackie's visits become less and less frequent. If only she knew what kind of affect she had on me when she was around. Her visits where the highlights of my short periods of consciousness.
I looked at the clock. The hands were spinning. Hours became seconds. Days went by in the blink of an eye. When suddenly, it all stopped. The clock slowed down to normal time, and I could move again. I sat myself up, and looked around. I was alone. But I wasn't in the hospital anymore. Now I was sitting back in my room. I looked at my side, and Jackie was there, sleeping.
I got out of bed slowly. I didn't want to wake her. I walked into the kitchen, sat down, and started bawling. Why did it have to be that? I'd heard stories of people reliving their first vacation, their first time, the moment they were born even. Why did I have to get the coma? I looked at the table, and saw the picture of myself, my mother, and Jackie. It must have been after the coma. I had a large plump of hair missing on the right side of my head, just above my ear. If it had been just an inch lower, I'd be half deaf right now. Damn was I lucky.
I started heading back to the bedroom, I had work in the morning and I needed all the sleep I could get. I don't even know why I decided to try this stuff, I stopped my drug habits when I was 20. But I was told that this was THE thing. I should never have trusted Todd. Not after last time. I crawled back into bed with Jackie, and checked the clock. 2 AM. At least I can get a few hours of sleep before work in the morning. I, no, we left it all behind for a reason. And after this experience, I was never going back.
---------------------------
Very much enjoyed this prompt. I haven't written like that in a long time, felt good. Thanks OP! | It hit me like a train.
No—*fuck*!
It *was* a train.
The steel behemoth clawed at the tracks, ripping a path straight towards me. The shrieking, the rumbling, the relentless shuddering of the metal beneath my feet, it all crescendo’d into a demonic plea for me to leave those tracks. I had to jump. I remembered thinking that. I remember sweat pooling between clenched palms and that crazy idea banging around my head: *stay*. *Don’t move*. *Die*.
I was a coward; I no longer had the strength to move.
Any moment, the brakes would screech and I would be saved. That same thought teased its way into my mind too. Only, the screeching never came; not then, not now. That smoke, black as the reaper himself, exploded out of the behemoth’s head, and all I could imagine was my blood mixing with it.
Just like that day, I held my arms out.
Three.
Two.
On—
"*Idiot*!"
Pain flared through my skull the moment it cracked against the track. Another body tumbled with mine, rolling and scraping against nails and wood, and when the world stopped spinning, the most beautiful face hung over me. *An angel*. I was sure of it.
With a bloodied arm, I reached out to her, though I couldn’t say why.
She slapped my hand away. "The hell were you thinkin’?"
Colors clouded my vision, blocking my view of the girl. I swatted at them like gnats. "You’re beautiful."
The girl leaned closer. "And you’re bleeding. Heavily."
I couldn’t help but laugh.
"Suicidal lunatic is what you are. Bout to start hallucinatin’ to that concussion."
*Concussion*! *Ha*! Laughter bubbled at my lips, and even though I tried to hold it back, it was contagious. The more I pushed it away, the stronger it came back. It wasn’t long before I was stuck in an endless loop of laugh, cringe, laugh, cringe. My head was killing me, quite literally.
"I think I love you," I said.
The girl’s glare softened into a frown, but the more ridiculous I became, the more her frown became a grin, and eventually a smile. "Maybe I shoulda let that train hit you. Maybe you wanted it, but I wanted to hear your story first. Couldn’t live with myself if I watched you die." My tongue twisted my words into a garbled mess; finally the girl laughed and I felt so happy with myself. "C’mon. My mom’s a doctor."
Her hands were warm. *I think I love you*. *I think I*…
The drug’s memory came to an end. No. I had to have more. I had to see her again, my sweet Caroline. I’d sell everything I owned if it just meant a chance to see her face one last time.
*My sweet Caroline*.
|
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "It's called Memory Lane. It takes you back to a moment in your life, and let's you relive it like it is actually happening. Everything feels the same. Sights, smells, touch, feelings, and emotions. It's an amazing sensation." She rattled on and on, but I wasn't convinced.
"Why would anyone want to relive past moments?" I sure as hell wouldn't. My life has been full of pain and sorrow, so much so that I can barely remember any happy memories.
"Are you KIDDING me? You can experience anything and everything for the first time again. You can remember great moments again and again." Her eyes became brighter and brighter as she continued to list all the amazing things ML does for people.
I still wasn't convinced, but I thought "Fuck it... I'll do one." I inhaled a spray of ML from an inhaler. I was instantly transported back 16 years...but I couldn't move, or speak on my own accord. I was literally in the moment, in control of nothing, an observer in my own body.
"Wait..." I thought, "I know where I am. I know when I am...no...NO." I was there, in Philadelphia, on July 8th, 1999. The night before my father died. "No...I can't do this again. I just...can't." I pleaded with myself, somehow thinking if I begged my brain hard enough the memory would change. I knew once I went to sleep I'd be awoken by my frantic mother. I knew I'd have to relive the moment of frivolous attempting CPR on my father's lifeless body. I'd relive the moment when I lashed out at the ER doctor when he told me my father was dead. Wake up...please wake up. Snap out of this...
I didnt wake up, and my memory of this night became clearer to me. I knew what was going to happen next. I watched as my body got up from its seat and moved out into the living room. As I turned the corner I saw him... "Happy birthday Dad! I know I don't say this often, but I love you." My heart broke...I should have said it more often to him.
"It's OK, son. I was 17 once too. I know you do." I heard my father's voice, for the first time in 16 years, say. I had forgotten what his voice sounded like...
"Thanks pops..." I felt my body plop down next to him on the couch, and give him a hug. I had forgotten how he smelled like Brut aftershave. I had forgotten how safe I felt in his embrace. I had forgotten a lot of things.
"You know what, son... I'm glad we had a chance this year to get closer. I know I spent too much time focused on your older brother when you both were growing up. I'm sorry for that." My father lamented. What the hell...? I don't remember this at all.
"Dad...my brother got your time because of baseball, but that's about all he got. I got your time for movies, arcades, libraries, museums, whatever I wanted to do. It may have not been all that much time, but it was always more than enough." I heard myself say, but didn't believe it. I don't remember this conversation. I don't remember my father apologizing to me for not doing enough. He always did more than enough...
"Well, kid, when you have your own children learn from my mistake. Spend as much time with each of them as possible. You never know when time will run out." He said with a smile and lighthearted chuckle.
We sat and watched TV, as we did 16 years ago. We cracked jokes, we poked fun at each other, and we channel surfed...just like we did that fateful day. I never knew the happiest moment of my life was just sitting and watching TV with my dad on his birthday, until now.
Then everything went black.
"How was it?" I heard a familiar voice ask. "What memory did you have??" It was my friend.
"I...I went back to the night before my dad died."
"OH MY GOD...I'm so sorry. I forgot to tell you that ML picks a random memory. I never had to relive anything horrific before..."
"No...actually...it was good. I got to see my dad again. I got to hear something he said back then that I completely forgot about. I...I... thank you. I've always said I'd give anything in this world to spend one more moment with him. So...thank you."
I packed up my things and got ready to leave. "Where are you going?" She asked.
"I'm going home to be with my kids." | I'm nervous. I mean I've only tried weed and that was only once, but this drug was supposed to be different. There were no side effects and no risk of physical addiction. I'd heard of a couple older people who'd taken it and kept coming back to visit "the good old days" until their money ran out and one or two people who'd ended up in places they never wanted to be again, but a random memory seemed like it would be really cool to see again.. I didn't have anything that bad in my past, and my life was pretty damn good right now. It would be cool to visit some of the stuff in my past, see if my childhood was all it was cracked up to be. Besides it's a party. We're supposed to take a hit then talk about what showed up. Already we'd gotten a "first time", an embarrassing story about a high school play, and a memory from a girl who was attacked by a chihuahua at 4 and has hated dogs ever since.
"Alright Sammy, give me a hit. I'll go next"
"Cool, that's $35, but for your first time I'll make it a nice even $30."
Here we go..
I take the pill and grind it up like I watched Tim do, then snort it through my nose. It's supposed to be faster that way. For a few more seconds I watch the people around me drinking and calming down the chihuahua girl. After all, as ridiculous as it is now, the emotions are from when she was 4. That dog was scary back then...
It's dark outside. I'm reading a book under my covers with a flashlight. I don't want Mom to catch me. Suddenly I feel a rumbling..
"OH NO! OHNONONO!"
I run down the hallway. Salvation!
The door is open. I run inside throwing the door closed behind me. I drop my pants and squat on the toilet bowl. I'd had a lot of Mom's tacos that night. No big deal though. I made sure to wipe thoroughly, then went back to bed and actually slept.
Slowly, I wake up to 10 people staring intently at me.
"Goddammit Sammy, I want my money back!"
"No refunds man!"
Man, truly random memories. Slowly, I wonder if the others were telling the truth about their random memories. There was no emotional connection to that story. It wasn't even that long. The memory could have been of me waiting in line at the supermarket. This shit is NOT worth the money. But it's a party.. I make up my mind..
"So there was this girl in high school, man I though she was hot..." |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
Inhale. Just like he told me, I hold my breath. I let it fill my lungs. I let the drug take over. Clouds of past memories filled my mind, nothing clear yet, as if the drug was slowly walking down memory lane, looking into doors of each memory, but not yet committing to one. Eventually, though, it stops, choosing a door, a memory, a decision based completly randomly. I hope its a good one. Exhale.
I pass out.
"Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
I wake up.
"Well, how was it?" Joe asks. | I'm nervous. I mean I've only tried weed and that was only once, but this drug was supposed to be different. There were no side effects and no risk of physical addiction. I'd heard of a couple older people who'd taken it and kept coming back to visit "the good old days" until their money ran out and one or two people who'd ended up in places they never wanted to be again, but a random memory seemed like it would be really cool to see again.. I didn't have anything that bad in my past, and my life was pretty damn good right now. It would be cool to visit some of the stuff in my past, see if my childhood was all it was cracked up to be. Besides it's a party. We're supposed to take a hit then talk about what showed up. Already we'd gotten a "first time", an embarrassing story about a high school play, and a memory from a girl who was attacked by a chihuahua at 4 and has hated dogs ever since.
"Alright Sammy, give me a hit. I'll go next"
"Cool, that's $35, but for your first time I'll make it a nice even $30."
Here we go..
I take the pill and grind it up like I watched Tim do, then snort it through my nose. It's supposed to be faster that way. For a few more seconds I watch the people around me drinking and calming down the chihuahua girl. After all, as ridiculous as it is now, the emotions are from when she was 4. That dog was scary back then...
It's dark outside. I'm reading a book under my covers with a flashlight. I don't want Mom to catch me. Suddenly I feel a rumbling..
"OH NO! OHNONONO!"
I run down the hallway. Salvation!
The door is open. I run inside throwing the door closed behind me. I drop my pants and squat on the toilet bowl. I'd had a lot of Mom's tacos that night. No big deal though. I made sure to wipe thoroughly, then went back to bed and actually slept.
Slowly, I wake up to 10 people staring intently at me.
"Goddammit Sammy, I want my money back!"
"No refunds man!"
Man, truly random memories. Slowly, I wonder if the others were telling the truth about their random memories. There was no emotional connection to that story. It wasn't even that long. The memory could have been of me waiting in line at the supermarket. This shit is NOT worth the money. But it's a party.. I make up my mind..
"So there was this girl in high school, man I though she was hot..." |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | I found out about it from a friend... never did anything like this before but I figured what the hell...
Looking into the mirror... down the hatch...
There she was, beautiful. Raven hair, blue eyes, tall... Gorgeous...
"Have a good day sweetheart" she said before we left.
Same usual day, same usual school, same usual lunch. Coloring, nap time, recess (my favorite). We played outside that day. It was cool, but not cold. I love the swings. All to myself today.
Back in class, back to work. I love story time.
The teacher read as we lay on our mats. Almost nap time. Of course I'm not tired! How could I be? Today is great!
The bus ride home was okay... Same old bus... But my sister is there, she always makes boring go away...
He met us in the driveway... What's wrong? Something is wrong...
"I'm sorry girls" he said with tears in his eyes... "she's gone..."
I woke on the floor and stared at the ceiling.... I miss my mommy... | I'm nervous. I mean I've only tried weed and that was only once, but this drug was supposed to be different. There were no side effects and no risk of physical addiction. I'd heard of a couple older people who'd taken it and kept coming back to visit "the good old days" until their money ran out and one or two people who'd ended up in places they never wanted to be again, but a random memory seemed like it would be really cool to see again.. I didn't have anything that bad in my past, and my life was pretty damn good right now. It would be cool to visit some of the stuff in my past, see if my childhood was all it was cracked up to be. Besides it's a party. We're supposed to take a hit then talk about what showed up. Already we'd gotten a "first time", an embarrassing story about a high school play, and a memory from a girl who was attacked by a chihuahua at 4 and has hated dogs ever since.
"Alright Sammy, give me a hit. I'll go next"
"Cool, that's $35, but for your first time I'll make it a nice even $30."
Here we go..
I take the pill and grind it up like I watched Tim do, then snort it through my nose. It's supposed to be faster that way. For a few more seconds I watch the people around me drinking and calming down the chihuahua girl. After all, as ridiculous as it is now, the emotions are from when she was 4. That dog was scary back then...
It's dark outside. I'm reading a book under my covers with a flashlight. I don't want Mom to catch me. Suddenly I feel a rumbling..
"OH NO! OHNONONO!"
I run down the hallway. Salvation!
The door is open. I run inside throwing the door closed behind me. I drop my pants and squat on the toilet bowl. I'd had a lot of Mom's tacos that night. No big deal though. I made sure to wipe thoroughly, then went back to bed and actually slept.
Slowly, I wake up to 10 people staring intently at me.
"Goddammit Sammy, I want my money back!"
"No refunds man!"
Man, truly random memories. Slowly, I wonder if the others were telling the truth about their random memories. There was no emotional connection to that story. It wasn't even that long. The memory could have been of me waiting in line at the supermarket. This shit is NOT worth the money. But it's a party.. I make up my mind..
"So there was this girl in high school, man I though she was hot..." |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Are you serious?", I said as I looked around the room and all the smiling faces. " you're joking right? Like this actually works?"
My friends invited me over for our bi-monthly trip. I wasn't really a fan. I always end up freaking out and breaking something.
"Yeah dude seriously. Take this and you can relive a memory. It's random though so if you got molested as a child things could get weird." I was intrigued but kind of hesitant. My childhood was boring. Like what if I get a memory that is just me sitting in my room watching school of rock and eating a hot pocket? I guess it's not that bad. I haven't seen that movie in a while.
"I think I want to watch someone else do it first", I said
"Alright, Katie you brought them. You go first"
Katie was a bitch, but she always had drugs so I guess she is cool.
Katie opened her bag and pulled out a canister. It looked like it was from space. She twisted the top and with a satisfying click the corner of a plastic bag popped out. She pulled out the plastic bag and I was done.
"That's meth. I'm doing meth you idiots", I angrily shouted.
Katie rolled her eyes and said, "it's not meth. Chill out. Just watch".
Just like someone would do with meth she laid it on the table, crushed it, and snorted it.
"Seriously?"
"Shut up just watch"
Katie laid her head back and blacked out. Ten seconds later she wakes up and smiles.
"How long was I out?"
"Like a few seconds", I said
"Really?! It felt like at least two hours. Anyways, my memory was pretty crazy. It was a fight I got into with this chick in middle school. I broke her nose. It was a pretty funny memory. That's really it. Somebody else go."
Everyone looked at me. I began to sweat. I thought for a moment and gave in.
"Fine I'll do it"
Slowly I take the crystal looking memory drug and crushed it. I stared at it for a moment and went down and let it travel through my nose.
I laid my head back and waited. I was nervous but I couldn't let anyone know that. I took one last deep breath and everything changed. I heard noises. Familiar noises. My parents. Images of my childhood flashed in front of my eyes. They started getting longer and slowing down until a final scene stopped and I dove into the memory.
"Are you serious?", I said as I looked around the room and all the smiling faces. " you're joking right? Like this actually works?"
My friends invited me over for our bi-monthly trip. I wasn't really a fan. I always end up freaking out and breaking something.
"Yeah dude seriously. Take this and you can relive a memory. It's random though so if you got molested as a child things could get weird." I was intrigued but kind of hesitant. My childhood was boring. Like what if I get a memory that is just me sitting in my room watching school of rock and eating a hot pocket? I guess it's not that bad. I haven't seen that movie in a while.
"I think I want to watch someone else do it first", I said
"Alright, Katie you brought them. You go first"
Katie was a bitch, but she always had drugs so I guess she is cool.
Katie opened her bag and pulled out a canister. It looked like it was from space. She twisted the top and with a satisfying click the corner of a plastic bag popped out. She pulled out the plastic bag and I was done.
"That's meth. I'm doing meth you idiots", I angrily shouted.
Katie rolled her eyes and said, "it's not meth. Chill out. Just watch".
Just like someone would do with meth she laid it on the table, crushed it, and snorted it.
"Seriously?"
"Shut up just watch"
Katie laid her head back and blacked out. Ten seconds later she wakes up and smiles.
"How long was I out?"
"Like a few seconds", I said
"Really?! It felt like at least two hours. Anyways, my memory was pretty crazy. It was a fight I got into with this chick in middle school. I broke her nose. It was a pretty funny memory. That's really it. Somebody else go."
Everyone looked at me. I began to sweat. I thought for a moment and gave in.
"Fine I'll do it"
Slowly I take the crystal looking memory drug and crushed it. I stared at it for a moment and went down and let it travel through my nose.
I woke up and everyone was looking at me.
"What did you see?"
I was so pissed.
"Yeah, It didn't work. Everything was black. I'm just gonna go home"
| I'm nervous. I mean I've only tried weed and that was only once, but this drug was supposed to be different. There were no side effects and no risk of physical addiction. I'd heard of a couple older people who'd taken it and kept coming back to visit "the good old days" until their money ran out and one or two people who'd ended up in places they never wanted to be again, but a random memory seemed like it would be really cool to see again.. I didn't have anything that bad in my past, and my life was pretty damn good right now. It would be cool to visit some of the stuff in my past, see if my childhood was all it was cracked up to be. Besides it's a party. We're supposed to take a hit then talk about what showed up. Already we'd gotten a "first time", an embarrassing story about a high school play, and a memory from a girl who was attacked by a chihuahua at 4 and has hated dogs ever since.
"Alright Sammy, give me a hit. I'll go next"
"Cool, that's $35, but for your first time I'll make it a nice even $30."
Here we go..
I take the pill and grind it up like I watched Tim do, then snort it through my nose. It's supposed to be faster that way. For a few more seconds I watch the people around me drinking and calming down the chihuahua girl. After all, as ridiculous as it is now, the emotions are from when she was 4. That dog was scary back then...
It's dark outside. I'm reading a book under my covers with a flashlight. I don't want Mom to catch me. Suddenly I feel a rumbling..
"OH NO! OHNONONO!"
I run down the hallway. Salvation!
The door is open. I run inside throwing the door closed behind me. I drop my pants and squat on the toilet bowl. I'd had a lot of Mom's tacos that night. No big deal though. I made sure to wipe thoroughly, then went back to bed and actually slept.
Slowly, I wake up to 10 people staring intently at me.
"Goddammit Sammy, I want my money back!"
"No refunds man!"
Man, truly random memories. Slowly, I wonder if the others were telling the truth about their random memories. There was no emotional connection to that story. It wasn't even that long. The memory could have been of me waiting in line at the supermarket. This shit is NOT worth the money. But it's a party.. I make up my mind..
"So there was this girl in high school, man I though she was hot..." |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | At first when I heard about it, I was afraid. I knew I just had to try it. It's all the rage. It's been dubbed as "Better than LSD," "More fun than anything you've ever had before," and so on. But I was going to be the judge of that. I called up my dealer, Todd. He said he just got some, was selling it at a pretty steep price. I cut a deal, and we were going to meet in an hour at the usual spot.
I arrived, and Todd was about to light some up himself. He gave me a small bag of a light blue, almost teal, substance. I forgot my lighter at home, so I had to borrow Todd's. The two of us rolled this stuff like cigarettes, and started smoking. Immediately I was back in my childhood home.
I had no idea how old I was, or what this was. I was sitting in my room, but it wasn't me. I felt as if I was a ghost, floating above myself, staring down, judging. Like that feeling you get when you think somebody's watching you. Except this time, you are actually watching.
I heard a banging at the door, and my former self snapped straight to it, with a face of fear on his, or my, face. I watched as my father slammed open the door, belt in one hand, beer in the other. I watched as I backed into the corner of my room, near to my old closet. I remember the door being broken later in my life. Was this why?
My father grew closer and closer. And with each step, I shuddered. I was so afraid. But why? My father was never aggressive, as far as I remember. Hell, I don't even remember who my dad was. Which helped me to realize that I must have been at most 14 years old when this happened. Although my interpretation of time isn't my strongest point.
My father was right over me now. I wasn't sure what would come first, the empty bottle or the belt. I was crouched in the corner, bracing for what could be the worst pain a child could feel. With myself looking away, I couldn't see what it was that brought with it the most horrible pain I'd ever felt in my life. I watched myself slouch over.
I opened my eyes to a crowd of spectators and a hospital crew. Todd had shook me awake. I looked around, gathered my surroundings, and tried to stand myself up. But why can't I move anymore? I'm staring straight at Todd, but I'm stuck. I stared at Todd, screaming for help. The EMTs had grabbed me, and put me in the ambulance while running so many tests on me. But couldn't they see I was awake? I'm right here, dammit! Why are you doing this? I'm OK!
They ignored me. I stopped screaming, I was wasting my time. I was just going to have to deal with this shit, and I could get on with my day. But then I saw my mother was there. Why was she here? I'm OK, and how did she even know where I was? How did they call her here so fast? I was only out for a few minutes. And now why is she crying? What is going on? Somebody, please, why?!
As the ambulance doors shut, I noticed that I wasn't in good shape. I had a mask over my face, tubes everywhere, and I felt like I was going to pass out. I reached for the phone. I needed to call Jackie. She needs to know I'm OK. But then I heard it again. The crying from the corner. Except this time, it wasn't my own. I caught a glimpse of my mother, Jackie, and Daisy in the corner of the room. But when did I get in this room? When did that phone I had just reached out for appear? And what happened to the ambulance doors?
A doctor walked in. I knew I was in trouble, but I recognized this place now. It was a hospital. More specifically, it was the hospital room where I was. I watched as the doctor spoke softly. Why was he speaking so low? I watched his mouth move, and heard a faint whisper that I couldn't quite make out. Then I watched as the crying grew louder and more frantic. I began to cry. But why are there no tears?
Around now it finally dawned on me. Am I dead? Why can't I use my own body? All I could do was sit there and watch, as my loved ones just watched me. A month passed. Then another. I noticed time passing faster and faster, and my senses growing less respondent. I wanted so desperately to wake up from this nightmare. I never asked for this. I never wanted any of this. I watched Jackie's visits become less and less frequent. If only she knew what kind of affect she had on me when she was around. Her visits where the highlights of my short periods of consciousness.
I looked at the clock. The hands were spinning. Hours became seconds. Days went by in the blink of an eye. When suddenly, it all stopped. The clock slowed down to normal time, and I could move again. I sat myself up, and looked around. I was alone. But I wasn't in the hospital anymore. Now I was sitting back in my room. I looked at my side, and Jackie was there, sleeping.
I got out of bed slowly. I didn't want to wake her. I walked into the kitchen, sat down, and started bawling. Why did it have to be that? I'd heard stories of people reliving their first vacation, their first time, the moment they were born even. Why did I have to get the coma? I looked at the table, and saw the picture of myself, my mother, and Jackie. It must have been after the coma. I had a large plump of hair missing on the right side of my head, just above my ear. If it had been just an inch lower, I'd be half deaf right now. Damn was I lucky.
I started heading back to the bedroom, I had work in the morning and I needed all the sleep I could get. I don't even know why I decided to try this stuff, I stopped my drug habits when I was 20. But I was told that this was THE thing. I should never have trusted Todd. Not after last time. I crawled back into bed with Jackie, and checked the clock. 2 AM. At least I can get a few hours of sleep before work in the morning. I, no, we left it all behind for a reason. And after this experience, I was never going back.
---------------------------
Very much enjoyed this prompt. I haven't written like that in a long time, felt good. Thanks OP! | I'm nervous. I mean I've only tried weed and that was only once, but this drug was supposed to be different. There were no side effects and no risk of physical addiction. I'd heard of a couple older people who'd taken it and kept coming back to visit "the good old days" until their money ran out and one or two people who'd ended up in places they never wanted to be again, but a random memory seemed like it would be really cool to see again.. I didn't have anything that bad in my past, and my life was pretty damn good right now. It would be cool to visit some of the stuff in my past, see if my childhood was all it was cracked up to be. Besides it's a party. We're supposed to take a hit then talk about what showed up. Already we'd gotten a "first time", an embarrassing story about a high school play, and a memory from a girl who was attacked by a chihuahua at 4 and has hated dogs ever since.
"Alright Sammy, give me a hit. I'll go next"
"Cool, that's $35, but for your first time I'll make it a nice even $30."
Here we go..
I take the pill and grind it up like I watched Tim do, then snort it through my nose. It's supposed to be faster that way. For a few more seconds I watch the people around me drinking and calming down the chihuahua girl. After all, as ridiculous as it is now, the emotions are from when she was 4. That dog was scary back then...
It's dark outside. I'm reading a book under my covers with a flashlight. I don't want Mom to catch me. Suddenly I feel a rumbling..
"OH NO! OHNONONO!"
I run down the hallway. Salvation!
The door is open. I run inside throwing the door closed behind me. I drop my pants and squat on the toilet bowl. I'd had a lot of Mom's tacos that night. No big deal though. I made sure to wipe thoroughly, then went back to bed and actually slept.
Slowly, I wake up to 10 people staring intently at me.
"Goddammit Sammy, I want my money back!"
"No refunds man!"
Man, truly random memories. Slowly, I wonder if the others were telling the truth about their random memories. There was no emotional connection to that story. It wasn't even that long. The memory could have been of me waiting in line at the supermarket. This shit is NOT worth the money. But it's a party.. I make up my mind..
"So there was this girl in high school, man I though she was hot..." |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "It's called Memory Lane. It takes you back to a moment in your life, and let's you relive it like it is actually happening. Everything feels the same. Sights, smells, touch, feelings, and emotions. It's an amazing sensation." She rattled on and on, but I wasn't convinced.
"Why would anyone want to relive past moments?" I sure as hell wouldn't. My life has been full of pain and sorrow, so much so that I can barely remember any happy memories.
"Are you KIDDING me? You can experience anything and everything for the first time again. You can remember great moments again and again." Her eyes became brighter and brighter as she continued to list all the amazing things ML does for people.
I still wasn't convinced, but I thought "Fuck it... I'll do one." I inhaled a spray of ML from an inhaler. I was instantly transported back 16 years...but I couldn't move, or speak on my own accord. I was literally in the moment, in control of nothing, an observer in my own body.
"Wait..." I thought, "I know where I am. I know when I am...no...NO." I was there, in Philadelphia, on July 8th, 1999. The night before my father died. "No...I can't do this again. I just...can't." I pleaded with myself, somehow thinking if I begged my brain hard enough the memory would change. I knew once I went to sleep I'd be awoken by my frantic mother. I knew I'd have to relive the moment of frivolous attempting CPR on my father's lifeless body. I'd relive the moment when I lashed out at the ER doctor when he told me my father was dead. Wake up...please wake up. Snap out of this...
I didnt wake up, and my memory of this night became clearer to me. I knew what was going to happen next. I watched as my body got up from its seat and moved out into the living room. As I turned the corner I saw him... "Happy birthday Dad! I know I don't say this often, but I love you." My heart broke...I should have said it more often to him.
"It's OK, son. I was 17 once too. I know you do." I heard my father's voice, for the first time in 16 years, say. I had forgotten what his voice sounded like...
"Thanks pops..." I felt my body plop down next to him on the couch, and give him a hug. I had forgotten how he smelled like Brut aftershave. I had forgotten how safe I felt in his embrace. I had forgotten a lot of things.
"You know what, son... I'm glad we had a chance this year to get closer. I know I spent too much time focused on your older brother when you both were growing up. I'm sorry for that." My father lamented. What the hell...? I don't remember this at all.
"Dad...my brother got your time because of baseball, but that's about all he got. I got your time for movies, arcades, libraries, museums, whatever I wanted to do. It may have not been all that much time, but it was always more than enough." I heard myself say, but didn't believe it. I don't remember this conversation. I don't remember my father apologizing to me for not doing enough. He always did more than enough...
"Well, kid, when you have your own children learn from my mistake. Spend as much time with each of them as possible. You never know when time will run out." He said with a smile and lighthearted chuckle.
We sat and watched TV, as we did 16 years ago. We cracked jokes, we poked fun at each other, and we channel surfed...just like we did that fateful day. I never knew the happiest moment of my life was just sitting and watching TV with my dad on his birthday, until now.
Then everything went black.
"How was it?" I heard a familiar voice ask. "What memory did you have??" It was my friend.
"I...I went back to the night before my dad died."
"OH MY GOD...I'm so sorry. I forgot to tell you that ML picks a random memory. I never had to relive anything horrific before..."
"No...actually...it was good. I got to see my dad again. I got to hear something he said back then that I completely forgot about. I...I... thank you. I've always said I'd give anything in this world to spend one more moment with him. So...thank you."
I packed up my things and got ready to leave. "Where are you going?" She asked.
"I'm going home to be with my kids." | "I'll get it!"
My own voice rings in my head, the signature high-pitched squeal of a boy just hit puberty.
I walk through the slightly unkempt grass, each step cushioning my low-quality, two-sizes-too-big Dunlop shoes; "He'll grow into 'em," my dad would always say.
My right hand meets the chain link fence and I look up to check the height. *I don't think I've ever climbed a fence this high* The sun catches my eyes just right, and my left hand goes over my eyes to shield me.
I place my right foot into one of the diamond holes, and it slides to the front in the loose-fitting shoes. My hands grip tightly at the fence and the unrefined metal is sharp against my soft hands, tiny razor-like thorns of metal dig into my skin but don't break flesh. Each hole is another foot higher, as I slowly climb further.
Finally at the top, I get one hand across the stable bar before I hear a voice behind me; "You're going too slow, Philip! I'll just get it!" My older brother's voice is mostly ignored as I concentrate on the task.
My head gets above the bar, and my eyes focus on the green disc in the distance, the gnarled barbs of the fence blur in my vision. As I start to climb over, I hear it again. "You're so slow!" I hear the fence rattle, and the shaking from the added weight and his quick climbing causes one foot to sleep. My arms shake as I try to keep my body weight up, but my undefined body can't take much more.
His next reckless step causes me to lose my own. Both feet have now lost their hold inside the links, and I'm falling. I turn for safety, but too late as the twisted metal tops make first contact with my left eyelid.
A "pop" sound rings in my ears, but the sound is not my concern. It's the crescendo of pain. The rising pain. No-words-can-describe-it pain. It feels like an eternity, like I am slowly descending further into a world of pain, before the pain explodes and doubles in intensity. Somehow, some way, the world can provide more pain.
And then the world goes dark. And when I am finally sure I am awake, it stays black, and never goes bright again. |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
Inhale. Just like he told me, I hold my breath. I let it fill my lungs. I let the drug take over. Clouds of past memories filled my mind, nothing clear yet, as if the drug was slowly walking down memory lane, looking into doors of each memory, but not yet committing to one. Eventually, though, it stops, choosing a door, a memory, a decision based completly randomly. I hope its a good one. Exhale.
I pass out.
"Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
I wake up.
"Well, how was it?" Joe asks. | "I'll get it!"
My own voice rings in my head, the signature high-pitched squeal of a boy just hit puberty.
I walk through the slightly unkempt grass, each step cushioning my low-quality, two-sizes-too-big Dunlop shoes; "He'll grow into 'em," my dad would always say.
My right hand meets the chain link fence and I look up to check the height. *I don't think I've ever climbed a fence this high* The sun catches my eyes just right, and my left hand goes over my eyes to shield me.
I place my right foot into one of the diamond holes, and it slides to the front in the loose-fitting shoes. My hands grip tightly at the fence and the unrefined metal is sharp against my soft hands, tiny razor-like thorns of metal dig into my skin but don't break flesh. Each hole is another foot higher, as I slowly climb further.
Finally at the top, I get one hand across the stable bar before I hear a voice behind me; "You're going too slow, Philip! I'll just get it!" My older brother's voice is mostly ignored as I concentrate on the task.
My head gets above the bar, and my eyes focus on the green disc in the distance, the gnarled barbs of the fence blur in my vision. As I start to climb over, I hear it again. "You're so slow!" I hear the fence rattle, and the shaking from the added weight and his quick climbing causes one foot to sleep. My arms shake as I try to keep my body weight up, but my undefined body can't take much more.
His next reckless step causes me to lose my own. Both feet have now lost their hold inside the links, and I'm falling. I turn for safety, but too late as the twisted metal tops make first contact with my left eyelid.
A "pop" sound rings in my ears, but the sound is not my concern. It's the crescendo of pain. The rising pain. No-words-can-describe-it pain. It feels like an eternity, like I am slowly descending further into a world of pain, before the pain explodes and doubles in intensity. Somehow, some way, the world can provide more pain.
And then the world goes dark. And when I am finally sure I am awake, it stays black, and never goes bright again. |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | I found out about it from a friend... never did anything like this before but I figured what the hell...
Looking into the mirror... down the hatch...
There she was, beautiful. Raven hair, blue eyes, tall... Gorgeous...
"Have a good day sweetheart" she said before we left.
Same usual day, same usual school, same usual lunch. Coloring, nap time, recess (my favorite). We played outside that day. It was cool, but not cold. I love the swings. All to myself today.
Back in class, back to work. I love story time.
The teacher read as we lay on our mats. Almost nap time. Of course I'm not tired! How could I be? Today is great!
The bus ride home was okay... Same old bus... But my sister is there, she always makes boring go away...
He met us in the driveway... What's wrong? Something is wrong...
"I'm sorry girls" he said with tears in his eyes... "she's gone..."
I woke on the floor and stared at the ceiling.... I miss my mommy... | "I'll get it!"
My own voice rings in my head, the signature high-pitched squeal of a boy just hit puberty.
I walk through the slightly unkempt grass, each step cushioning my low-quality, two-sizes-too-big Dunlop shoes; "He'll grow into 'em," my dad would always say.
My right hand meets the chain link fence and I look up to check the height. *I don't think I've ever climbed a fence this high* The sun catches my eyes just right, and my left hand goes over my eyes to shield me.
I place my right foot into one of the diamond holes, and it slides to the front in the loose-fitting shoes. My hands grip tightly at the fence and the unrefined metal is sharp against my soft hands, tiny razor-like thorns of metal dig into my skin but don't break flesh. Each hole is another foot higher, as I slowly climb further.
Finally at the top, I get one hand across the stable bar before I hear a voice behind me; "You're going too slow, Philip! I'll just get it!" My older brother's voice is mostly ignored as I concentrate on the task.
My head gets above the bar, and my eyes focus on the green disc in the distance, the gnarled barbs of the fence blur in my vision. As I start to climb over, I hear it again. "You're so slow!" I hear the fence rattle, and the shaking from the added weight and his quick climbing causes one foot to sleep. My arms shake as I try to keep my body weight up, but my undefined body can't take much more.
His next reckless step causes me to lose my own. Both feet have now lost their hold inside the links, and I'm falling. I turn for safety, but too late as the twisted metal tops make first contact with my left eyelid.
A "pop" sound rings in my ears, but the sound is not my concern. It's the crescendo of pain. The rising pain. No-words-can-describe-it pain. It feels like an eternity, like I am slowly descending further into a world of pain, before the pain explodes and doubles in intensity. Somehow, some way, the world can provide more pain.
And then the world goes dark. And when I am finally sure I am awake, it stays black, and never goes bright again. |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Are you serious?", I said as I looked around the room and all the smiling faces. " you're joking right? Like this actually works?"
My friends invited me over for our bi-monthly trip. I wasn't really a fan. I always end up freaking out and breaking something.
"Yeah dude seriously. Take this and you can relive a memory. It's random though so if you got molested as a child things could get weird." I was intrigued but kind of hesitant. My childhood was boring. Like what if I get a memory that is just me sitting in my room watching school of rock and eating a hot pocket? I guess it's not that bad. I haven't seen that movie in a while.
"I think I want to watch someone else do it first", I said
"Alright, Katie you brought them. You go first"
Katie was a bitch, but she always had drugs so I guess she is cool.
Katie opened her bag and pulled out a canister. It looked like it was from space. She twisted the top and with a satisfying click the corner of a plastic bag popped out. She pulled out the plastic bag and I was done.
"That's meth. I'm doing meth you idiots", I angrily shouted.
Katie rolled her eyes and said, "it's not meth. Chill out. Just watch".
Just like someone would do with meth she laid it on the table, crushed it, and snorted it.
"Seriously?"
"Shut up just watch"
Katie laid her head back and blacked out. Ten seconds later she wakes up and smiles.
"How long was I out?"
"Like a few seconds", I said
"Really?! It felt like at least two hours. Anyways, my memory was pretty crazy. It was a fight I got into with this chick in middle school. I broke her nose. It was a pretty funny memory. That's really it. Somebody else go."
Everyone looked at me. I began to sweat. I thought for a moment and gave in.
"Fine I'll do it"
Slowly I take the crystal looking memory drug and crushed it. I stared at it for a moment and went down and let it travel through my nose.
I laid my head back and waited. I was nervous but I couldn't let anyone know that. I took one last deep breath and everything changed. I heard noises. Familiar noises. My parents. Images of my childhood flashed in front of my eyes. They started getting longer and slowing down until a final scene stopped and I dove into the memory.
"Are you serious?", I said as I looked around the room and all the smiling faces. " you're joking right? Like this actually works?"
My friends invited me over for our bi-monthly trip. I wasn't really a fan. I always end up freaking out and breaking something.
"Yeah dude seriously. Take this and you can relive a memory. It's random though so if you got molested as a child things could get weird." I was intrigued but kind of hesitant. My childhood was boring. Like what if I get a memory that is just me sitting in my room watching school of rock and eating a hot pocket? I guess it's not that bad. I haven't seen that movie in a while.
"I think I want to watch someone else do it first", I said
"Alright, Katie you brought them. You go first"
Katie was a bitch, but she always had drugs so I guess she is cool.
Katie opened her bag and pulled out a canister. It looked like it was from space. She twisted the top and with a satisfying click the corner of a plastic bag popped out. She pulled out the plastic bag and I was done.
"That's meth. I'm doing meth you idiots", I angrily shouted.
Katie rolled her eyes and said, "it's not meth. Chill out. Just watch".
Just like someone would do with meth she laid it on the table, crushed it, and snorted it.
"Seriously?"
"Shut up just watch"
Katie laid her head back and blacked out. Ten seconds later she wakes up and smiles.
"How long was I out?"
"Like a few seconds", I said
"Really?! It felt like at least two hours. Anyways, my memory was pretty crazy. It was a fight I got into with this chick in middle school. I broke her nose. It was a pretty funny memory. That's really it. Somebody else go."
Everyone looked at me. I began to sweat. I thought for a moment and gave in.
"Fine I'll do it"
Slowly I take the crystal looking memory drug and crushed it. I stared at it for a moment and went down and let it travel through my nose.
I woke up and everyone was looking at me.
"What did you see?"
I was so pissed.
"Yeah, It didn't work. Everything was black. I'm just gonna go home"
| "I'll get it!"
My own voice rings in my head, the signature high-pitched squeal of a boy just hit puberty.
I walk through the slightly unkempt grass, each step cushioning my low-quality, two-sizes-too-big Dunlop shoes; "He'll grow into 'em," my dad would always say.
My right hand meets the chain link fence and I look up to check the height. *I don't think I've ever climbed a fence this high* The sun catches my eyes just right, and my left hand goes over my eyes to shield me.
I place my right foot into one of the diamond holes, and it slides to the front in the loose-fitting shoes. My hands grip tightly at the fence and the unrefined metal is sharp against my soft hands, tiny razor-like thorns of metal dig into my skin but don't break flesh. Each hole is another foot higher, as I slowly climb further.
Finally at the top, I get one hand across the stable bar before I hear a voice behind me; "You're going too slow, Philip! I'll just get it!" My older brother's voice is mostly ignored as I concentrate on the task.
My head gets above the bar, and my eyes focus on the green disc in the distance, the gnarled barbs of the fence blur in my vision. As I start to climb over, I hear it again. "You're so slow!" I hear the fence rattle, and the shaking from the added weight and his quick climbing causes one foot to sleep. My arms shake as I try to keep my body weight up, but my undefined body can't take much more.
His next reckless step causes me to lose my own. Both feet have now lost their hold inside the links, and I'm falling. I turn for safety, but too late as the twisted metal tops make first contact with my left eyelid.
A "pop" sound rings in my ears, but the sound is not my concern. It's the crescendo of pain. The rising pain. No-words-can-describe-it pain. It feels like an eternity, like I am slowly descending further into a world of pain, before the pain explodes and doubles in intensity. Somehow, some way, the world can provide more pain.
And then the world goes dark. And when I am finally sure I am awake, it stays black, and never goes bright again. |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | At first when I heard about it, I was afraid. I knew I just had to try it. It's all the rage. It's been dubbed as "Better than LSD," "More fun than anything you've ever had before," and so on. But I was going to be the judge of that. I called up my dealer, Todd. He said he just got some, was selling it at a pretty steep price. I cut a deal, and we were going to meet in an hour at the usual spot.
I arrived, and Todd was about to light some up himself. He gave me a small bag of a light blue, almost teal, substance. I forgot my lighter at home, so I had to borrow Todd's. The two of us rolled this stuff like cigarettes, and started smoking. Immediately I was back in my childhood home.
I had no idea how old I was, or what this was. I was sitting in my room, but it wasn't me. I felt as if I was a ghost, floating above myself, staring down, judging. Like that feeling you get when you think somebody's watching you. Except this time, you are actually watching.
I heard a banging at the door, and my former self snapped straight to it, with a face of fear on his, or my, face. I watched as my father slammed open the door, belt in one hand, beer in the other. I watched as I backed into the corner of my room, near to my old closet. I remember the door being broken later in my life. Was this why?
My father grew closer and closer. And with each step, I shuddered. I was so afraid. But why? My father was never aggressive, as far as I remember. Hell, I don't even remember who my dad was. Which helped me to realize that I must have been at most 14 years old when this happened. Although my interpretation of time isn't my strongest point.
My father was right over me now. I wasn't sure what would come first, the empty bottle or the belt. I was crouched in the corner, bracing for what could be the worst pain a child could feel. With myself looking away, I couldn't see what it was that brought with it the most horrible pain I'd ever felt in my life. I watched myself slouch over.
I opened my eyes to a crowd of spectators and a hospital crew. Todd had shook me awake. I looked around, gathered my surroundings, and tried to stand myself up. But why can't I move anymore? I'm staring straight at Todd, but I'm stuck. I stared at Todd, screaming for help. The EMTs had grabbed me, and put me in the ambulance while running so many tests on me. But couldn't they see I was awake? I'm right here, dammit! Why are you doing this? I'm OK!
They ignored me. I stopped screaming, I was wasting my time. I was just going to have to deal with this shit, and I could get on with my day. But then I saw my mother was there. Why was she here? I'm OK, and how did she even know where I was? How did they call her here so fast? I was only out for a few minutes. And now why is she crying? What is going on? Somebody, please, why?!
As the ambulance doors shut, I noticed that I wasn't in good shape. I had a mask over my face, tubes everywhere, and I felt like I was going to pass out. I reached for the phone. I needed to call Jackie. She needs to know I'm OK. But then I heard it again. The crying from the corner. Except this time, it wasn't my own. I caught a glimpse of my mother, Jackie, and Daisy in the corner of the room. But when did I get in this room? When did that phone I had just reached out for appear? And what happened to the ambulance doors?
A doctor walked in. I knew I was in trouble, but I recognized this place now. It was a hospital. More specifically, it was the hospital room where I was. I watched as the doctor spoke softly. Why was he speaking so low? I watched his mouth move, and heard a faint whisper that I couldn't quite make out. Then I watched as the crying grew louder and more frantic. I began to cry. But why are there no tears?
Around now it finally dawned on me. Am I dead? Why can't I use my own body? All I could do was sit there and watch, as my loved ones just watched me. A month passed. Then another. I noticed time passing faster and faster, and my senses growing less respondent. I wanted so desperately to wake up from this nightmare. I never asked for this. I never wanted any of this. I watched Jackie's visits become less and less frequent. If only she knew what kind of affect she had on me when she was around. Her visits where the highlights of my short periods of consciousness.
I looked at the clock. The hands were spinning. Hours became seconds. Days went by in the blink of an eye. When suddenly, it all stopped. The clock slowed down to normal time, and I could move again. I sat myself up, and looked around. I was alone. But I wasn't in the hospital anymore. Now I was sitting back in my room. I looked at my side, and Jackie was there, sleeping.
I got out of bed slowly. I didn't want to wake her. I walked into the kitchen, sat down, and started bawling. Why did it have to be that? I'd heard stories of people reliving their first vacation, their first time, the moment they were born even. Why did I have to get the coma? I looked at the table, and saw the picture of myself, my mother, and Jackie. It must have been after the coma. I had a large plump of hair missing on the right side of my head, just above my ear. If it had been just an inch lower, I'd be half deaf right now. Damn was I lucky.
I started heading back to the bedroom, I had work in the morning and I needed all the sleep I could get. I don't even know why I decided to try this stuff, I stopped my drug habits when I was 20. But I was told that this was THE thing. I should never have trusted Todd. Not after last time. I crawled back into bed with Jackie, and checked the clock. 2 AM. At least I can get a few hours of sleep before work in the morning. I, no, we left it all behind for a reason. And after this experience, I was never going back.
---------------------------
Very much enjoyed this prompt. I haven't written like that in a long time, felt good. Thanks OP! | "I'll get it!"
My own voice rings in my head, the signature high-pitched squeal of a boy just hit puberty.
I walk through the slightly unkempt grass, each step cushioning my low-quality, two-sizes-too-big Dunlop shoes; "He'll grow into 'em," my dad would always say.
My right hand meets the chain link fence and I look up to check the height. *I don't think I've ever climbed a fence this high* The sun catches my eyes just right, and my left hand goes over my eyes to shield me.
I place my right foot into one of the diamond holes, and it slides to the front in the loose-fitting shoes. My hands grip tightly at the fence and the unrefined metal is sharp against my soft hands, tiny razor-like thorns of metal dig into my skin but don't break flesh. Each hole is another foot higher, as I slowly climb further.
Finally at the top, I get one hand across the stable bar before I hear a voice behind me; "You're going too slow, Philip! I'll just get it!" My older brother's voice is mostly ignored as I concentrate on the task.
My head gets above the bar, and my eyes focus on the green disc in the distance, the gnarled barbs of the fence blur in my vision. As I start to climb over, I hear it again. "You're so slow!" I hear the fence rattle, and the shaking from the added weight and his quick climbing causes one foot to sleep. My arms shake as I try to keep my body weight up, but my undefined body can't take much more.
His next reckless step causes me to lose my own. Both feet have now lost their hold inside the links, and I'm falling. I turn for safety, but too late as the twisted metal tops make first contact with my left eyelid.
A "pop" sound rings in my ears, but the sound is not my concern. It's the crescendo of pain. The rising pain. No-words-can-describe-it pain. It feels like an eternity, like I am slowly descending further into a world of pain, before the pain explodes and doubles in intensity. Somehow, some way, the world can provide more pain.
And then the world goes dark. And when I am finally sure I am awake, it stays black, and never goes bright again. |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "It's called Memory Lane. It takes you back to a moment in your life, and let's you relive it like it is actually happening. Everything feels the same. Sights, smells, touch, feelings, and emotions. It's an amazing sensation." She rattled on and on, but I wasn't convinced.
"Why would anyone want to relive past moments?" I sure as hell wouldn't. My life has been full of pain and sorrow, so much so that I can barely remember any happy memories.
"Are you KIDDING me? You can experience anything and everything for the first time again. You can remember great moments again and again." Her eyes became brighter and brighter as she continued to list all the amazing things ML does for people.
I still wasn't convinced, but I thought "Fuck it... I'll do one." I inhaled a spray of ML from an inhaler. I was instantly transported back 16 years...but I couldn't move, or speak on my own accord. I was literally in the moment, in control of nothing, an observer in my own body.
"Wait..." I thought, "I know where I am. I know when I am...no...NO." I was there, in Philadelphia, on July 8th, 1999. The night before my father died. "No...I can't do this again. I just...can't." I pleaded with myself, somehow thinking if I begged my brain hard enough the memory would change. I knew once I went to sleep I'd be awoken by my frantic mother. I knew I'd have to relive the moment of frivolous attempting CPR on my father's lifeless body. I'd relive the moment when I lashed out at the ER doctor when he told me my father was dead. Wake up...please wake up. Snap out of this...
I didnt wake up, and my memory of this night became clearer to me. I knew what was going to happen next. I watched as my body got up from its seat and moved out into the living room. As I turned the corner I saw him... "Happy birthday Dad! I know I don't say this often, but I love you." My heart broke...I should have said it more often to him.
"It's OK, son. I was 17 once too. I know you do." I heard my father's voice, for the first time in 16 years, say. I had forgotten what his voice sounded like...
"Thanks pops..." I felt my body plop down next to him on the couch, and give him a hug. I had forgotten how he smelled like Brut aftershave. I had forgotten how safe I felt in his embrace. I had forgotten a lot of things.
"You know what, son... I'm glad we had a chance this year to get closer. I know I spent too much time focused on your older brother when you both were growing up. I'm sorry for that." My father lamented. What the hell...? I don't remember this at all.
"Dad...my brother got your time because of baseball, but that's about all he got. I got your time for movies, arcades, libraries, museums, whatever I wanted to do. It may have not been all that much time, but it was always more than enough." I heard myself say, but didn't believe it. I don't remember this conversation. I don't remember my father apologizing to me for not doing enough. He always did more than enough...
"Well, kid, when you have your own children learn from my mistake. Spend as much time with each of them as possible. You never know when time will run out." He said with a smile and lighthearted chuckle.
We sat and watched TV, as we did 16 years ago. We cracked jokes, we poked fun at each other, and we channel surfed...just like we did that fateful day. I never knew the happiest moment of my life was just sitting and watching TV with my dad on his birthday, until now.
Then everything went black.
"How was it?" I heard a familiar voice ask. "What memory did you have??" It was my friend.
"I...I went back to the night before my dad died."
"OH MY GOD...I'm so sorry. I forgot to tell you that ML picks a random memory. I never had to relive anything horrific before..."
"No...actually...it was good. I got to see my dad again. I got to hear something he said back then that I completely forgot about. I...I... thank you. I've always said I'd give anything in this world to spend one more moment with him. So...thank you."
I packed up my things and got ready to leave. "Where are you going?" She asked.
"I'm going home to be with my kids." | Everything is so dark. I don't remember this memory... where am I?
I feel like I'm being squeezed by the walls, very tightly. I'm claustrophobic, but strangely, I am not scared by this.
I can feel myself slipping upward, being pushed by the walls. What is happening? I don't even remember this memory at all...
I manage to make it past a threshold. I see a very bright light, and faces with masks. Aliens? Was I abducted in the past?
I take a deep breath. That feels... new. I start crying for some unknown reason.
"It's a boy!" |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
Inhale. Just like he told me, I hold my breath. I let it fill my lungs. I let the drug take over. Clouds of past memories filled my mind, nothing clear yet, as if the drug was slowly walking down memory lane, looking into doors of each memory, but not yet committing to one. Eventually, though, it stops, choosing a door, a memory, a decision based completly randomly. I hope its a good one. Exhale.
I pass out.
"Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
I wake up.
"Well, how was it?" Joe asks. | Everything is so dark. I don't remember this memory... where am I?
I feel like I'm being squeezed by the walls, very tightly. I'm claustrophobic, but strangely, I am not scared by this.
I can feel myself slipping upward, being pushed by the walls. What is happening? I don't even remember this memory at all...
I manage to make it past a threshold. I see a very bright light, and faces with masks. Aliens? Was I abducted in the past?
I take a deep breath. That feels... new. I start crying for some unknown reason.
"It's a boy!" |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Are you serious?", I said as I looked around the room and all the smiling faces. " you're joking right? Like this actually works?"
My friends invited me over for our bi-monthly trip. I wasn't really a fan. I always end up freaking out and breaking something.
"Yeah dude seriously. Take this and you can relive a memory. It's random though so if you got molested as a child things could get weird." I was intrigued but kind of hesitant. My childhood was boring. Like what if I get a memory that is just me sitting in my room watching school of rock and eating a hot pocket? I guess it's not that bad. I haven't seen that movie in a while.
"I think I want to watch someone else do it first", I said
"Alright, Katie you brought them. You go first"
Katie was a bitch, but she always had drugs so I guess she is cool.
Katie opened her bag and pulled out a canister. It looked like it was from space. She twisted the top and with a satisfying click the corner of a plastic bag popped out. She pulled out the plastic bag and I was done.
"That's meth. I'm doing meth you idiots", I angrily shouted.
Katie rolled her eyes and said, "it's not meth. Chill out. Just watch".
Just like someone would do with meth she laid it on the table, crushed it, and snorted it.
"Seriously?"
"Shut up just watch"
Katie laid her head back and blacked out. Ten seconds later she wakes up and smiles.
"How long was I out?"
"Like a few seconds", I said
"Really?! It felt like at least two hours. Anyways, my memory was pretty crazy. It was a fight I got into with this chick in middle school. I broke her nose. It was a pretty funny memory. That's really it. Somebody else go."
Everyone looked at me. I began to sweat. I thought for a moment and gave in.
"Fine I'll do it"
Slowly I take the crystal looking memory drug and crushed it. I stared at it for a moment and went down and let it travel through my nose.
I laid my head back and waited. I was nervous but I couldn't let anyone know that. I took one last deep breath and everything changed. I heard noises. Familiar noises. My parents. Images of my childhood flashed in front of my eyes. They started getting longer and slowing down until a final scene stopped and I dove into the memory.
"Are you serious?", I said as I looked around the room and all the smiling faces. " you're joking right? Like this actually works?"
My friends invited me over for our bi-monthly trip. I wasn't really a fan. I always end up freaking out and breaking something.
"Yeah dude seriously. Take this and you can relive a memory. It's random though so if you got molested as a child things could get weird." I was intrigued but kind of hesitant. My childhood was boring. Like what if I get a memory that is just me sitting in my room watching school of rock and eating a hot pocket? I guess it's not that bad. I haven't seen that movie in a while.
"I think I want to watch someone else do it first", I said
"Alright, Katie you brought them. You go first"
Katie was a bitch, but she always had drugs so I guess she is cool.
Katie opened her bag and pulled out a canister. It looked like it was from space. She twisted the top and with a satisfying click the corner of a plastic bag popped out. She pulled out the plastic bag and I was done.
"That's meth. I'm doing meth you idiots", I angrily shouted.
Katie rolled her eyes and said, "it's not meth. Chill out. Just watch".
Just like someone would do with meth she laid it on the table, crushed it, and snorted it.
"Seriously?"
"Shut up just watch"
Katie laid her head back and blacked out. Ten seconds later she wakes up and smiles.
"How long was I out?"
"Like a few seconds", I said
"Really?! It felt like at least two hours. Anyways, my memory was pretty crazy. It was a fight I got into with this chick in middle school. I broke her nose. It was a pretty funny memory. That's really it. Somebody else go."
Everyone looked at me. I began to sweat. I thought for a moment and gave in.
"Fine I'll do it"
Slowly I take the crystal looking memory drug and crushed it. I stared at it for a moment and went down and let it travel through my nose.
I woke up and everyone was looking at me.
"What did you see?"
I was so pissed.
"Yeah, It didn't work. Everything was black. I'm just gonna go home"
| Everything is so dark. I don't remember this memory... where am I?
I feel like I'm being squeezed by the walls, very tightly. I'm claustrophobic, but strangely, I am not scared by this.
I can feel myself slipping upward, being pushed by the walls. What is happening? I don't even remember this memory at all...
I manage to make it past a threshold. I see a very bright light, and faces with masks. Aliens? Was I abducted in the past?
I take a deep breath. That feels... new. I start crying for some unknown reason.
"It's a boy!" |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | At first when I heard about it, I was afraid. I knew I just had to try it. It's all the rage. It's been dubbed as "Better than LSD," "More fun than anything you've ever had before," and so on. But I was going to be the judge of that. I called up my dealer, Todd. He said he just got some, was selling it at a pretty steep price. I cut a deal, and we were going to meet in an hour at the usual spot.
I arrived, and Todd was about to light some up himself. He gave me a small bag of a light blue, almost teal, substance. I forgot my lighter at home, so I had to borrow Todd's. The two of us rolled this stuff like cigarettes, and started smoking. Immediately I was back in my childhood home.
I had no idea how old I was, or what this was. I was sitting in my room, but it wasn't me. I felt as if I was a ghost, floating above myself, staring down, judging. Like that feeling you get when you think somebody's watching you. Except this time, you are actually watching.
I heard a banging at the door, and my former self snapped straight to it, with a face of fear on his, or my, face. I watched as my father slammed open the door, belt in one hand, beer in the other. I watched as I backed into the corner of my room, near to my old closet. I remember the door being broken later in my life. Was this why?
My father grew closer and closer. And with each step, I shuddered. I was so afraid. But why? My father was never aggressive, as far as I remember. Hell, I don't even remember who my dad was. Which helped me to realize that I must have been at most 14 years old when this happened. Although my interpretation of time isn't my strongest point.
My father was right over me now. I wasn't sure what would come first, the empty bottle or the belt. I was crouched in the corner, bracing for what could be the worst pain a child could feel. With myself looking away, I couldn't see what it was that brought with it the most horrible pain I'd ever felt in my life. I watched myself slouch over.
I opened my eyes to a crowd of spectators and a hospital crew. Todd had shook me awake. I looked around, gathered my surroundings, and tried to stand myself up. But why can't I move anymore? I'm staring straight at Todd, but I'm stuck. I stared at Todd, screaming for help. The EMTs had grabbed me, and put me in the ambulance while running so many tests on me. But couldn't they see I was awake? I'm right here, dammit! Why are you doing this? I'm OK!
They ignored me. I stopped screaming, I was wasting my time. I was just going to have to deal with this shit, and I could get on with my day. But then I saw my mother was there. Why was she here? I'm OK, and how did she even know where I was? How did they call her here so fast? I was only out for a few minutes. And now why is she crying? What is going on? Somebody, please, why?!
As the ambulance doors shut, I noticed that I wasn't in good shape. I had a mask over my face, tubes everywhere, and I felt like I was going to pass out. I reached for the phone. I needed to call Jackie. She needs to know I'm OK. But then I heard it again. The crying from the corner. Except this time, it wasn't my own. I caught a glimpse of my mother, Jackie, and Daisy in the corner of the room. But when did I get in this room? When did that phone I had just reached out for appear? And what happened to the ambulance doors?
A doctor walked in. I knew I was in trouble, but I recognized this place now. It was a hospital. More specifically, it was the hospital room where I was. I watched as the doctor spoke softly. Why was he speaking so low? I watched his mouth move, and heard a faint whisper that I couldn't quite make out. Then I watched as the crying grew louder and more frantic. I began to cry. But why are there no tears?
Around now it finally dawned on me. Am I dead? Why can't I use my own body? All I could do was sit there and watch, as my loved ones just watched me. A month passed. Then another. I noticed time passing faster and faster, and my senses growing less respondent. I wanted so desperately to wake up from this nightmare. I never asked for this. I never wanted any of this. I watched Jackie's visits become less and less frequent. If only she knew what kind of affect she had on me when she was around. Her visits where the highlights of my short periods of consciousness.
I looked at the clock. The hands were spinning. Hours became seconds. Days went by in the blink of an eye. When suddenly, it all stopped. The clock slowed down to normal time, and I could move again. I sat myself up, and looked around. I was alone. But I wasn't in the hospital anymore. Now I was sitting back in my room. I looked at my side, and Jackie was there, sleeping.
I got out of bed slowly. I didn't want to wake her. I walked into the kitchen, sat down, and started bawling. Why did it have to be that? I'd heard stories of people reliving their first vacation, their first time, the moment they were born even. Why did I have to get the coma? I looked at the table, and saw the picture of myself, my mother, and Jackie. It must have been after the coma. I had a large plump of hair missing on the right side of my head, just above my ear. If it had been just an inch lower, I'd be half deaf right now. Damn was I lucky.
I started heading back to the bedroom, I had work in the morning and I needed all the sleep I could get. I don't even know why I decided to try this stuff, I stopped my drug habits when I was 20. But I was told that this was THE thing. I should never have trusted Todd. Not after last time. I crawled back into bed with Jackie, and checked the clock. 2 AM. At least I can get a few hours of sleep before work in the morning. I, no, we left it all behind for a reason. And after this experience, I was never going back.
---------------------------
Very much enjoyed this prompt. I haven't written like that in a long time, felt good. Thanks OP! | Everything is so dark. I don't remember this memory... where am I?
I feel like I'm being squeezed by the walls, very tightly. I'm claustrophobic, but strangely, I am not scared by this.
I can feel myself slipping upward, being pushed by the walls. What is happening? I don't even remember this memory at all...
I manage to make it past a threshold. I see a very bright light, and faces with masks. Aliens? Was I abducted in the past?
I take a deep breath. That feels... new. I start crying for some unknown reason.
"It's a boy!" |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "It's called Memory Lane. It takes you back to a moment in your life, and let's you relive it like it is actually happening. Everything feels the same. Sights, smells, touch, feelings, and emotions. It's an amazing sensation." She rattled on and on, but I wasn't convinced.
"Why would anyone want to relive past moments?" I sure as hell wouldn't. My life has been full of pain and sorrow, so much so that I can barely remember any happy memories.
"Are you KIDDING me? You can experience anything and everything for the first time again. You can remember great moments again and again." Her eyes became brighter and brighter as she continued to list all the amazing things ML does for people.
I still wasn't convinced, but I thought "Fuck it... I'll do one." I inhaled a spray of ML from an inhaler. I was instantly transported back 16 years...but I couldn't move, or speak on my own accord. I was literally in the moment, in control of nothing, an observer in my own body.
"Wait..." I thought, "I know where I am. I know when I am...no...NO." I was there, in Philadelphia, on July 8th, 1999. The night before my father died. "No...I can't do this again. I just...can't." I pleaded with myself, somehow thinking if I begged my brain hard enough the memory would change. I knew once I went to sleep I'd be awoken by my frantic mother. I knew I'd have to relive the moment of frivolous attempting CPR on my father's lifeless body. I'd relive the moment when I lashed out at the ER doctor when he told me my father was dead. Wake up...please wake up. Snap out of this...
I didnt wake up, and my memory of this night became clearer to me. I knew what was going to happen next. I watched as my body got up from its seat and moved out into the living room. As I turned the corner I saw him... "Happy birthday Dad! I know I don't say this often, but I love you." My heart broke...I should have said it more often to him.
"It's OK, son. I was 17 once too. I know you do." I heard my father's voice, for the first time in 16 years, say. I had forgotten what his voice sounded like...
"Thanks pops..." I felt my body plop down next to him on the couch, and give him a hug. I had forgotten how he smelled like Brut aftershave. I had forgotten how safe I felt in his embrace. I had forgotten a lot of things.
"You know what, son... I'm glad we had a chance this year to get closer. I know I spent too much time focused on your older brother when you both were growing up. I'm sorry for that." My father lamented. What the hell...? I don't remember this at all.
"Dad...my brother got your time because of baseball, but that's about all he got. I got your time for movies, arcades, libraries, museums, whatever I wanted to do. It may have not been all that much time, but it was always more than enough." I heard myself say, but didn't believe it. I don't remember this conversation. I don't remember my father apologizing to me for not doing enough. He always did more than enough...
"Well, kid, when you have your own children learn from my mistake. Spend as much time with each of them as possible. You never know when time will run out." He said with a smile and lighthearted chuckle.
We sat and watched TV, as we did 16 years ago. We cracked jokes, we poked fun at each other, and we channel surfed...just like we did that fateful day. I never knew the happiest moment of my life was just sitting and watching TV with my dad on his birthday, until now.
Then everything went black.
"How was it?" I heard a familiar voice ask. "What memory did you have??" It was my friend.
"I...I went back to the night before my dad died."
"OH MY GOD...I'm so sorry. I forgot to tell you that ML picks a random memory. I never had to relive anything horrific before..."
"No...actually...it was good. I got to see my dad again. I got to hear something he said back then that I completely forgot about. I...I... thank you. I've always said I'd give anything in this world to spend one more moment with him. So...thank you."
I packed up my things and got ready to leave. "Where are you going?" She asked.
"I'm going home to be with my kids." | You were expecting something less painful than this.
Lying on your back in a world that's far, far too large. There's too much raw stuff in this space, like someone dumped air, light and sound into the room until it started bulging at the edges. That too-big outside looms over you in a way you never noticed before, but it's not the source of the hurt.
That's coming from inside you, like a migraine in your jaw. You feel like you should be bleeding, if you could do more than move drowsily from side to side. The pain cuts out your ability to think straight, but you resolve to never touch this stuff again, and to punch Danny in the nuts a few times for trying to sell you anything but weed.
Teething is a bitch. |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
Inhale. Just like he told me, I hold my breath. I let it fill my lungs. I let the drug take over. Clouds of past memories filled my mind, nothing clear yet, as if the drug was slowly walking down memory lane, looking into doors of each memory, but not yet committing to one. Eventually, though, it stops, choosing a door, a memory, a decision based completly randomly. I hope its a good one. Exhale.
I pass out.
"Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
I wake up.
"Well, how was it?" Joe asks. | You were expecting something less painful than this.
Lying on your back in a world that's far, far too large. There's too much raw stuff in this space, like someone dumped air, light and sound into the room until it started bulging at the edges. That too-big outside looms over you in a way you never noticed before, but it's not the source of the hurt.
That's coming from inside you, like a migraine in your jaw. You feel like you should be bleeding, if you could do more than move drowsily from side to side. The pain cuts out your ability to think straight, but you resolve to never touch this stuff again, and to punch Danny in the nuts a few times for trying to sell you anything but weed.
Teething is a bitch. |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
Inhale. Just like he told me, I hold my breath. I let it fill my lungs. I let the drug take over. Clouds of past memories filled my mind, nothing clear yet, as if the drug was slowly walking down memory lane, looking into doors of each memory, but not yet committing to one. Eventually, though, it stops, choosing a door, a memory, a decision based completly randomly. I hope its a good one. Exhale.
I pass out.
"Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
I wake up.
"Well, how was it?" Joe asks. | So I'm new here, and I figured this would be a good way to brush up on my creative writing. I'm sorry if it's terrible! Anyway, enjoy!
I started through the stained mirror, finally glancing away from the cracks at the corner, and back at my bloodshot eyes, trying to remember how many times I put myself through this. Was this the eighth time, or the ninth? Which time was it that the tremors started up? Shit, my skin is turning yellow, or is that mustard? It was pale last time, it had to have been. Just keep going, once I remember it'll be fine-no, I have to remember.- My body can heal, right? It's worth it. Focus! I have to have this memory, I have to know where they took her!
Get a grip. We were at the museum that day, she finally got to see that new geology exhibit - she was so happy, damn it! We got hot dogs next, yeah, the salty smell of processed guts with a slight tang in the air from that loose ketchup. Oh, that needle stings more than usual- focus!
This was a great idea, just what we needed; a father daughter outing. She looks adorable in that little dress, I'm raising a little strawberry shortcake. "Come on Kyra, let's get to the movie theater so we can get the bar seats!" God, it's good to see her smiling again after everything. Now, which way to the movies again? I know we can take a left on Adams, but let's take Nash. There's a nice park up that road, I'm sure Kyra wouldn't mind seeing some trees. -This is it, finally! Come on, just focus a little longer.- "Daddy can I climb a tree, pleeeeaaase? " How can you say no to that? "Sure, Kyra, but let's make it quick! The Muppets are waiting!" she looked slightly odd grabbing onto that gritty bark in that cherry red dress and struggling to hoist herself up.
Wait, I never moved to help her up, they knocked me out by then. Why am I grabbing her so firmly? This isn't right! What the hell is going on? It was me? I can't. Stop this Goddamn memory!
The foul acidic burn from the vomit gripping my nostrils is better than enduring that memory. It couldn't have been me. It couldn't have. "come out with your hands up!" I guess there's a reason I was the only suspect. I really hope this shard does the trick. "Stop! I'm halfway through, let me end myself!" Why did they barge in? They can't put me through worse than that. Do they really think they can rehabilitate me? |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | I found out about it from a friend... never did anything like this before but I figured what the hell...
Looking into the mirror... down the hatch...
There she was, beautiful. Raven hair, blue eyes, tall... Gorgeous...
"Have a good day sweetheart" she said before we left.
Same usual day, same usual school, same usual lunch. Coloring, nap time, recess (my favorite). We played outside that day. It was cool, but not cold. I love the swings. All to myself today.
Back in class, back to work. I love story time.
The teacher read as we lay on our mats. Almost nap time. Of course I'm not tired! How could I be? Today is great!
The bus ride home was okay... Same old bus... But my sister is there, she always makes boring go away...
He met us in the driveway... What's wrong? Something is wrong...
"I'm sorry girls" he said with tears in his eyes... "she's gone..."
I woke on the floor and stared at the ceiling.... I miss my mommy... | So I'm new here, and I figured this would be a good way to brush up on my creative writing. I'm sorry if it's terrible! Anyway, enjoy!
I started through the stained mirror, finally glancing away from the cracks at the corner, and back at my bloodshot eyes, trying to remember how many times I put myself through this. Was this the eighth time, or the ninth? Which time was it that the tremors started up? Shit, my skin is turning yellow, or is that mustard? It was pale last time, it had to have been. Just keep going, once I remember it'll be fine-no, I have to remember.- My body can heal, right? It's worth it. Focus! I have to have this memory, I have to know where they took her!
Get a grip. We were at the museum that day, she finally got to see that new geology exhibit - she was so happy, damn it! We got hot dogs next, yeah, the salty smell of processed guts with a slight tang in the air from that loose ketchup. Oh, that needle stings more than usual- focus!
This was a great idea, just what we needed; a father daughter outing. She looks adorable in that little dress, I'm raising a little strawberry shortcake. "Come on Kyra, let's get to the movie theater so we can get the bar seats!" God, it's good to see her smiling again after everything. Now, which way to the movies again? I know we can take a left on Adams, but let's take Nash. There's a nice park up that road, I'm sure Kyra wouldn't mind seeing some trees. -This is it, finally! Come on, just focus a little longer.- "Daddy can I climb a tree, pleeeeaaase? " How can you say no to that? "Sure, Kyra, but let's make it quick! The Muppets are waiting!" she looked slightly odd grabbing onto that gritty bark in that cherry red dress and struggling to hoist herself up.
Wait, I never moved to help her up, they knocked me out by then. Why am I grabbing her so firmly? This isn't right! What the hell is going on? It was me? I can't. Stop this Goddamn memory!
The foul acidic burn from the vomit gripping my nostrils is better than enduring that memory. It couldn't have been me. It couldn't have. "come out with your hands up!" I guess there's a reason I was the only suspect. I really hope this shard does the trick. "Stop! I'm halfway through, let me end myself!" Why did they barge in? They can't put me through worse than that. Do they really think they can rehabilitate me? |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Are you serious?", I said as I looked around the room and all the smiling faces. " you're joking right? Like this actually works?"
My friends invited me over for our bi-monthly trip. I wasn't really a fan. I always end up freaking out and breaking something.
"Yeah dude seriously. Take this and you can relive a memory. It's random though so if you got molested as a child things could get weird." I was intrigued but kind of hesitant. My childhood was boring. Like what if I get a memory that is just me sitting in my room watching school of rock and eating a hot pocket? I guess it's not that bad. I haven't seen that movie in a while.
"I think I want to watch someone else do it first", I said
"Alright, Katie you brought them. You go first"
Katie was a bitch, but she always had drugs so I guess she is cool.
Katie opened her bag and pulled out a canister. It looked like it was from space. She twisted the top and with a satisfying click the corner of a plastic bag popped out. She pulled out the plastic bag and I was done.
"That's meth. I'm doing meth you idiots", I angrily shouted.
Katie rolled her eyes and said, "it's not meth. Chill out. Just watch".
Just like someone would do with meth she laid it on the table, crushed it, and snorted it.
"Seriously?"
"Shut up just watch"
Katie laid her head back and blacked out. Ten seconds later she wakes up and smiles.
"How long was I out?"
"Like a few seconds", I said
"Really?! It felt like at least two hours. Anyways, my memory was pretty crazy. It was a fight I got into with this chick in middle school. I broke her nose. It was a pretty funny memory. That's really it. Somebody else go."
Everyone looked at me. I began to sweat. I thought for a moment and gave in.
"Fine I'll do it"
Slowly I take the crystal looking memory drug and crushed it. I stared at it for a moment and went down and let it travel through my nose.
I laid my head back and waited. I was nervous but I couldn't let anyone know that. I took one last deep breath and everything changed. I heard noises. Familiar noises. My parents. Images of my childhood flashed in front of my eyes. They started getting longer and slowing down until a final scene stopped and I dove into the memory.
"Are you serious?", I said as I looked around the room and all the smiling faces. " you're joking right? Like this actually works?"
My friends invited me over for our bi-monthly trip. I wasn't really a fan. I always end up freaking out and breaking something.
"Yeah dude seriously. Take this and you can relive a memory. It's random though so if you got molested as a child things could get weird." I was intrigued but kind of hesitant. My childhood was boring. Like what if I get a memory that is just me sitting in my room watching school of rock and eating a hot pocket? I guess it's not that bad. I haven't seen that movie in a while.
"I think I want to watch someone else do it first", I said
"Alright, Katie you brought them. You go first"
Katie was a bitch, but she always had drugs so I guess she is cool.
Katie opened her bag and pulled out a canister. It looked like it was from space. She twisted the top and with a satisfying click the corner of a plastic bag popped out. She pulled out the plastic bag and I was done.
"That's meth. I'm doing meth you idiots", I angrily shouted.
Katie rolled her eyes and said, "it's not meth. Chill out. Just watch".
Just like someone would do with meth she laid it on the table, crushed it, and snorted it.
"Seriously?"
"Shut up just watch"
Katie laid her head back and blacked out. Ten seconds later she wakes up and smiles.
"How long was I out?"
"Like a few seconds", I said
"Really?! It felt like at least two hours. Anyways, my memory was pretty crazy. It was a fight I got into with this chick in middle school. I broke her nose. It was a pretty funny memory. That's really it. Somebody else go."
Everyone looked at me. I began to sweat. I thought for a moment and gave in.
"Fine I'll do it"
Slowly I take the crystal looking memory drug and crushed it. I stared at it for a moment and went down and let it travel through my nose.
I woke up and everyone was looking at me.
"What did you see?"
I was so pissed.
"Yeah, It didn't work. Everything was black. I'm just gonna go home"
| So I'm new here, and I figured this would be a good way to brush up on my creative writing. I'm sorry if it's terrible! Anyway, enjoy!
I started through the stained mirror, finally glancing away from the cracks at the corner, and back at my bloodshot eyes, trying to remember how many times I put myself through this. Was this the eighth time, or the ninth? Which time was it that the tremors started up? Shit, my skin is turning yellow, or is that mustard? It was pale last time, it had to have been. Just keep going, once I remember it'll be fine-no, I have to remember.- My body can heal, right? It's worth it. Focus! I have to have this memory, I have to know where they took her!
Get a grip. We were at the museum that day, she finally got to see that new geology exhibit - she was so happy, damn it! We got hot dogs next, yeah, the salty smell of processed guts with a slight tang in the air from that loose ketchup. Oh, that needle stings more than usual- focus!
This was a great idea, just what we needed; a father daughter outing. She looks adorable in that little dress, I'm raising a little strawberry shortcake. "Come on Kyra, let's get to the movie theater so we can get the bar seats!" God, it's good to see her smiling again after everything. Now, which way to the movies again? I know we can take a left on Adams, but let's take Nash. There's a nice park up that road, I'm sure Kyra wouldn't mind seeing some trees. -This is it, finally! Come on, just focus a little longer.- "Daddy can I climb a tree, pleeeeaaase? " How can you say no to that? "Sure, Kyra, but let's make it quick! The Muppets are waiting!" she looked slightly odd grabbing onto that gritty bark in that cherry red dress and struggling to hoist herself up.
Wait, I never moved to help her up, they knocked me out by then. Why am I grabbing her so firmly? This isn't right! What the hell is going on? It was me? I can't. Stop this Goddamn memory!
The foul acidic burn from the vomit gripping my nostrils is better than enduring that memory. It couldn't have been me. It couldn't have. "come out with your hands up!" I guess there's a reason I was the only suspect. I really hope this shard does the trick. "Stop! I'm halfway through, let me end myself!" Why did they barge in? They can't put me through worse than that. Do they really think they can rehabilitate me? |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | At first when I heard about it, I was afraid. I knew I just had to try it. It's all the rage. It's been dubbed as "Better than LSD," "More fun than anything you've ever had before," and so on. But I was going to be the judge of that. I called up my dealer, Todd. He said he just got some, was selling it at a pretty steep price. I cut a deal, and we were going to meet in an hour at the usual spot.
I arrived, and Todd was about to light some up himself. He gave me a small bag of a light blue, almost teal, substance. I forgot my lighter at home, so I had to borrow Todd's. The two of us rolled this stuff like cigarettes, and started smoking. Immediately I was back in my childhood home.
I had no idea how old I was, or what this was. I was sitting in my room, but it wasn't me. I felt as if I was a ghost, floating above myself, staring down, judging. Like that feeling you get when you think somebody's watching you. Except this time, you are actually watching.
I heard a banging at the door, and my former self snapped straight to it, with a face of fear on his, or my, face. I watched as my father slammed open the door, belt in one hand, beer in the other. I watched as I backed into the corner of my room, near to my old closet. I remember the door being broken later in my life. Was this why?
My father grew closer and closer. And with each step, I shuddered. I was so afraid. But why? My father was never aggressive, as far as I remember. Hell, I don't even remember who my dad was. Which helped me to realize that I must have been at most 14 years old when this happened. Although my interpretation of time isn't my strongest point.
My father was right over me now. I wasn't sure what would come first, the empty bottle or the belt. I was crouched in the corner, bracing for what could be the worst pain a child could feel. With myself looking away, I couldn't see what it was that brought with it the most horrible pain I'd ever felt in my life. I watched myself slouch over.
I opened my eyes to a crowd of spectators and a hospital crew. Todd had shook me awake. I looked around, gathered my surroundings, and tried to stand myself up. But why can't I move anymore? I'm staring straight at Todd, but I'm stuck. I stared at Todd, screaming for help. The EMTs had grabbed me, and put me in the ambulance while running so many tests on me. But couldn't they see I was awake? I'm right here, dammit! Why are you doing this? I'm OK!
They ignored me. I stopped screaming, I was wasting my time. I was just going to have to deal with this shit, and I could get on with my day. But then I saw my mother was there. Why was she here? I'm OK, and how did she even know where I was? How did they call her here so fast? I was only out for a few minutes. And now why is she crying? What is going on? Somebody, please, why?!
As the ambulance doors shut, I noticed that I wasn't in good shape. I had a mask over my face, tubes everywhere, and I felt like I was going to pass out. I reached for the phone. I needed to call Jackie. She needs to know I'm OK. But then I heard it again. The crying from the corner. Except this time, it wasn't my own. I caught a glimpse of my mother, Jackie, and Daisy in the corner of the room. But when did I get in this room? When did that phone I had just reached out for appear? And what happened to the ambulance doors?
A doctor walked in. I knew I was in trouble, but I recognized this place now. It was a hospital. More specifically, it was the hospital room where I was. I watched as the doctor spoke softly. Why was he speaking so low? I watched his mouth move, and heard a faint whisper that I couldn't quite make out. Then I watched as the crying grew louder and more frantic. I began to cry. But why are there no tears?
Around now it finally dawned on me. Am I dead? Why can't I use my own body? All I could do was sit there and watch, as my loved ones just watched me. A month passed. Then another. I noticed time passing faster and faster, and my senses growing less respondent. I wanted so desperately to wake up from this nightmare. I never asked for this. I never wanted any of this. I watched Jackie's visits become less and less frequent. If only she knew what kind of affect she had on me when she was around. Her visits where the highlights of my short periods of consciousness.
I looked at the clock. The hands were spinning. Hours became seconds. Days went by in the blink of an eye. When suddenly, it all stopped. The clock slowed down to normal time, and I could move again. I sat myself up, and looked around. I was alone. But I wasn't in the hospital anymore. Now I was sitting back in my room. I looked at my side, and Jackie was there, sleeping.
I got out of bed slowly. I didn't want to wake her. I walked into the kitchen, sat down, and started bawling. Why did it have to be that? I'd heard stories of people reliving their first vacation, their first time, the moment they were born even. Why did I have to get the coma? I looked at the table, and saw the picture of myself, my mother, and Jackie. It must have been after the coma. I had a large plump of hair missing on the right side of my head, just above my ear. If it had been just an inch lower, I'd be half deaf right now. Damn was I lucky.
I started heading back to the bedroom, I had work in the morning and I needed all the sleep I could get. I don't even know why I decided to try this stuff, I stopped my drug habits when I was 20. But I was told that this was THE thing. I should never have trusted Todd. Not after last time. I crawled back into bed with Jackie, and checked the clock. 2 AM. At least I can get a few hours of sleep before work in the morning. I, no, we left it all behind for a reason. And after this experience, I was never going back.
---------------------------
Very much enjoyed this prompt. I haven't written like that in a long time, felt good. Thanks OP! | So I'm new here, and I figured this would be a good way to brush up on my creative writing. I'm sorry if it's terrible! Anyway, enjoy!
I started through the stained mirror, finally glancing away from the cracks at the corner, and back at my bloodshot eyes, trying to remember how many times I put myself through this. Was this the eighth time, or the ninth? Which time was it that the tremors started up? Shit, my skin is turning yellow, or is that mustard? It was pale last time, it had to have been. Just keep going, once I remember it'll be fine-no, I have to remember.- My body can heal, right? It's worth it. Focus! I have to have this memory, I have to know where they took her!
Get a grip. We were at the museum that day, she finally got to see that new geology exhibit - she was so happy, damn it! We got hot dogs next, yeah, the salty smell of processed guts with a slight tang in the air from that loose ketchup. Oh, that needle stings more than usual- focus!
This was a great idea, just what we needed; a father daughter outing. She looks adorable in that little dress, I'm raising a little strawberry shortcake. "Come on Kyra, let's get to the movie theater so we can get the bar seats!" God, it's good to see her smiling again after everything. Now, which way to the movies again? I know we can take a left on Adams, but let's take Nash. There's a nice park up that road, I'm sure Kyra wouldn't mind seeing some trees. -This is it, finally! Come on, just focus a little longer.- "Daddy can I climb a tree, pleeeeaaase? " How can you say no to that? "Sure, Kyra, but let's make it quick! The Muppets are waiting!" she looked slightly odd grabbing onto that gritty bark in that cherry red dress and struggling to hoist herself up.
Wait, I never moved to help her up, they knocked me out by then. Why am I grabbing her so firmly? This isn't right! What the hell is going on? It was me? I can't. Stop this Goddamn memory!
The foul acidic burn from the vomit gripping my nostrils is better than enduring that memory. It couldn't have been me. It couldn't have. "come out with your hands up!" I guess there's a reason I was the only suspect. I really hope this shard does the trick. "Stop! I'm halfway through, let me end myself!" Why did they barge in? They can't put me through worse than that. Do they really think they can rehabilitate me? |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
Inhale. Just like he told me, I hold my breath. I let it fill my lungs. I let the drug take over. Clouds of past memories filled my mind, nothing clear yet, as if the drug was slowly walking down memory lane, looking into doors of each memory, but not yet committing to one. Eventually, though, it stops, choosing a door, a memory, a decision based completly randomly. I hope its a good one. Exhale.
I pass out.
"Just one hit man, and you'll take a trip down memory lane!" Joe said, giving me the pipe. "OK man, but it better be good."
I wake up.
"Well, how was it?" Joe asks. | "It's called Memory Lane. It takes you back to a moment in your life, and let's you relive it like it is actually happening. Everything feels the same. Sights, smells, touch, feelings, and emotions. It's an amazing sensation." She rattled on and on, but I wasn't convinced.
"Why would anyone want to relive past moments?" I sure as hell wouldn't. My life has been full of pain and sorrow, so much so that I can barely remember any happy memories.
"Are you KIDDING me? You can experience anything and everything for the first time again. You can remember great moments again and again." Her eyes became brighter and brighter as she continued to list all the amazing things ML does for people.
I still wasn't convinced, but I thought "Fuck it... I'll do one." I inhaled a spray of ML from an inhaler. I was instantly transported back 16 years...but I couldn't move, or speak on my own accord. I was literally in the moment, in control of nothing, an observer in my own body.
"Wait..." I thought, "I know where I am. I know when I am...no...NO." I was there, in Philadelphia, on July 8th, 1999. The night before my father died. "No...I can't do this again. I just...can't." I pleaded with myself, somehow thinking if I begged my brain hard enough the memory would change. I knew once I went to sleep I'd be awoken by my frantic mother. I knew I'd have to relive the moment of frivolous attempting CPR on my father's lifeless body. I'd relive the moment when I lashed out at the ER doctor when he told me my father was dead. Wake up...please wake up. Snap out of this...
I didnt wake up, and my memory of this night became clearer to me. I knew what was going to happen next. I watched as my body got up from its seat and moved out into the living room. As I turned the corner I saw him... "Happy birthday Dad! I know I don't say this often, but I love you." My heart broke...I should have said it more often to him.
"It's OK, son. I was 17 once too. I know you do." I heard my father's voice, for the first time in 16 years, say. I had forgotten what his voice sounded like...
"Thanks pops..." I felt my body plop down next to him on the couch, and give him a hug. I had forgotten how he smelled like Brut aftershave. I had forgotten how safe I felt in his embrace. I had forgotten a lot of things.
"You know what, son... I'm glad we had a chance this year to get closer. I know I spent too much time focused on your older brother when you both were growing up. I'm sorry for that." My father lamented. What the hell...? I don't remember this at all.
"Dad...my brother got your time because of baseball, but that's about all he got. I got your time for movies, arcades, libraries, museums, whatever I wanted to do. It may have not been all that much time, but it was always more than enough." I heard myself say, but didn't believe it. I don't remember this conversation. I don't remember my father apologizing to me for not doing enough. He always did more than enough...
"Well, kid, when you have your own children learn from my mistake. Spend as much time with each of them as possible. You never know when time will run out." He said with a smile and lighthearted chuckle.
We sat and watched TV, as we did 16 years ago. We cracked jokes, we poked fun at each other, and we channel surfed...just like we did that fateful day. I never knew the happiest moment of my life was just sitting and watching TV with my dad on his birthday, until now.
Then everything went black.
"How was it?" I heard a familiar voice ask. "What memory did you have??" It was my friend.
"I...I went back to the night before my dad died."
"OH MY GOD...I'm so sorry. I forgot to tell you that ML picks a random memory. I never had to relive anything horrific before..."
"No...actually...it was good. I got to see my dad again. I got to hear something he said back then that I completely forgot about. I...I... thank you. I've always said I'd give anything in this world to spend one more moment with him. So...thank you."
I packed up my things and got ready to leave. "Where are you going?" She asked.
"I'm going home to be with my kids." |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | I found out about it from a friend... never did anything like this before but I figured what the hell...
Looking into the mirror... down the hatch...
There she was, beautiful. Raven hair, blue eyes, tall... Gorgeous...
"Have a good day sweetheart" she said before we left.
Same usual day, same usual school, same usual lunch. Coloring, nap time, recess (my favorite). We played outside that day. It was cool, but not cold. I love the swings. All to myself today.
Back in class, back to work. I love story time.
The teacher read as we lay on our mats. Almost nap time. Of course I'm not tired! How could I be? Today is great!
The bus ride home was okay... Same old bus... But my sister is there, she always makes boring go away...
He met us in the driveway... What's wrong? Something is wrong...
"I'm sorry girls" he said with tears in his eyes... "she's gone..."
I woke on the floor and stared at the ceiling.... I miss my mommy... | Today's the day, I'm going to do it, you hear about celebrities doing it all of the time, and they're always fine. It's not like your life will end if it all goes wrong. I'm so nervous, how can doing something so simple be so difficult. What if she doesn't love me anymore, what if she disowns me, I'd have nowhere to go.
I suddenly find myself walking down the stairs, I've planned for this for a while now, but I'm nervous, I can feel my hands going clammy, and I just take a deep breath and walk into the kitchen.
"Mum can I talk to you?" I say quietly
"What have you done this time?" she asks in her usual suspecting tone.
"Please don't be angry, I've wanted to tell you for a while"
"Spit it out, son" she says impatiently
After what seems like an eternity I decide that the time is now, I need to stop hiding from myself and other people. "I'm Gay". |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Are you serious?", I said as I looked around the room and all the smiling faces. " you're joking right? Like this actually works?"
My friends invited me over for our bi-monthly trip. I wasn't really a fan. I always end up freaking out and breaking something.
"Yeah dude seriously. Take this and you can relive a memory. It's random though so if you got molested as a child things could get weird." I was intrigued but kind of hesitant. My childhood was boring. Like what if I get a memory that is just me sitting in my room watching school of rock and eating a hot pocket? I guess it's not that bad. I haven't seen that movie in a while.
"I think I want to watch someone else do it first", I said
"Alright, Katie you brought them. You go first"
Katie was a bitch, but she always had drugs so I guess she is cool.
Katie opened her bag and pulled out a canister. It looked like it was from space. She twisted the top and with a satisfying click the corner of a plastic bag popped out. She pulled out the plastic bag and I was done.
"That's meth. I'm doing meth you idiots", I angrily shouted.
Katie rolled her eyes and said, "it's not meth. Chill out. Just watch".
Just like someone would do with meth she laid it on the table, crushed it, and snorted it.
"Seriously?"
"Shut up just watch"
Katie laid her head back and blacked out. Ten seconds later she wakes up and smiles.
"How long was I out?"
"Like a few seconds", I said
"Really?! It felt like at least two hours. Anyways, my memory was pretty crazy. It was a fight I got into with this chick in middle school. I broke her nose. It was a pretty funny memory. That's really it. Somebody else go."
Everyone looked at me. I began to sweat. I thought for a moment and gave in.
"Fine I'll do it"
Slowly I take the crystal looking memory drug and crushed it. I stared at it for a moment and went down and let it travel through my nose.
I laid my head back and waited. I was nervous but I couldn't let anyone know that. I took one last deep breath and everything changed. I heard noises. Familiar noises. My parents. Images of my childhood flashed in front of my eyes. They started getting longer and slowing down until a final scene stopped and I dove into the memory.
"Are you serious?", I said as I looked around the room and all the smiling faces. " you're joking right? Like this actually works?"
My friends invited me over for our bi-monthly trip. I wasn't really a fan. I always end up freaking out and breaking something.
"Yeah dude seriously. Take this and you can relive a memory. It's random though so if you got molested as a child things could get weird." I was intrigued but kind of hesitant. My childhood was boring. Like what if I get a memory that is just me sitting in my room watching school of rock and eating a hot pocket? I guess it's not that bad. I haven't seen that movie in a while.
"I think I want to watch someone else do it first", I said
"Alright, Katie you brought them. You go first"
Katie was a bitch, but she always had drugs so I guess she is cool.
Katie opened her bag and pulled out a canister. It looked like it was from space. She twisted the top and with a satisfying click the corner of a plastic bag popped out. She pulled out the plastic bag and I was done.
"That's meth. I'm doing meth you idiots", I angrily shouted.
Katie rolled her eyes and said, "it's not meth. Chill out. Just watch".
Just like someone would do with meth she laid it on the table, crushed it, and snorted it.
"Seriously?"
"Shut up just watch"
Katie laid her head back and blacked out. Ten seconds later she wakes up and smiles.
"How long was I out?"
"Like a few seconds", I said
"Really?! It felt like at least two hours. Anyways, my memory was pretty crazy. It was a fight I got into with this chick in middle school. I broke her nose. It was a pretty funny memory. That's really it. Somebody else go."
Everyone looked at me. I began to sweat. I thought for a moment and gave in.
"Fine I'll do it"
Slowly I take the crystal looking memory drug and crushed it. I stared at it for a moment and went down and let it travel through my nose.
I woke up and everyone was looking at me.
"What did you see?"
I was so pissed.
"Yeah, It didn't work. Everything was black. I'm just gonna go home"
| Today's the day, I'm going to do it, you hear about celebrities doing it all of the time, and they're always fine. It's not like your life will end if it all goes wrong. I'm so nervous, how can doing something so simple be so difficult. What if she doesn't love me anymore, what if she disowns me, I'd have nowhere to go.
I suddenly find myself walking down the stairs, I've planned for this for a while now, but I'm nervous, I can feel my hands going clammy, and I just take a deep breath and walk into the kitchen.
"Mum can I talk to you?" I say quietly
"What have you done this time?" she asks in her usual suspecting tone.
"Please don't be angry, I've wanted to tell you for a while"
"Spit it out, son" she says impatiently
After what seems like an eternity I decide that the time is now, I need to stop hiding from myself and other people. "I'm Gay". |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | At first when I heard about it, I was afraid. I knew I just had to try it. It's all the rage. It's been dubbed as "Better than LSD," "More fun than anything you've ever had before," and so on. But I was going to be the judge of that. I called up my dealer, Todd. He said he just got some, was selling it at a pretty steep price. I cut a deal, and we were going to meet in an hour at the usual spot.
I arrived, and Todd was about to light some up himself. He gave me a small bag of a light blue, almost teal, substance. I forgot my lighter at home, so I had to borrow Todd's. The two of us rolled this stuff like cigarettes, and started smoking. Immediately I was back in my childhood home.
I had no idea how old I was, or what this was. I was sitting in my room, but it wasn't me. I felt as if I was a ghost, floating above myself, staring down, judging. Like that feeling you get when you think somebody's watching you. Except this time, you are actually watching.
I heard a banging at the door, and my former self snapped straight to it, with a face of fear on his, or my, face. I watched as my father slammed open the door, belt in one hand, beer in the other. I watched as I backed into the corner of my room, near to my old closet. I remember the door being broken later in my life. Was this why?
My father grew closer and closer. And with each step, I shuddered. I was so afraid. But why? My father was never aggressive, as far as I remember. Hell, I don't even remember who my dad was. Which helped me to realize that I must have been at most 14 years old when this happened. Although my interpretation of time isn't my strongest point.
My father was right over me now. I wasn't sure what would come first, the empty bottle or the belt. I was crouched in the corner, bracing for what could be the worst pain a child could feel. With myself looking away, I couldn't see what it was that brought with it the most horrible pain I'd ever felt in my life. I watched myself slouch over.
I opened my eyes to a crowd of spectators and a hospital crew. Todd had shook me awake. I looked around, gathered my surroundings, and tried to stand myself up. But why can't I move anymore? I'm staring straight at Todd, but I'm stuck. I stared at Todd, screaming for help. The EMTs had grabbed me, and put me in the ambulance while running so many tests on me. But couldn't they see I was awake? I'm right here, dammit! Why are you doing this? I'm OK!
They ignored me. I stopped screaming, I was wasting my time. I was just going to have to deal with this shit, and I could get on with my day. But then I saw my mother was there. Why was she here? I'm OK, and how did she even know where I was? How did they call her here so fast? I was only out for a few minutes. And now why is she crying? What is going on? Somebody, please, why?!
As the ambulance doors shut, I noticed that I wasn't in good shape. I had a mask over my face, tubes everywhere, and I felt like I was going to pass out. I reached for the phone. I needed to call Jackie. She needs to know I'm OK. But then I heard it again. The crying from the corner. Except this time, it wasn't my own. I caught a glimpse of my mother, Jackie, and Daisy in the corner of the room. But when did I get in this room? When did that phone I had just reached out for appear? And what happened to the ambulance doors?
A doctor walked in. I knew I was in trouble, but I recognized this place now. It was a hospital. More specifically, it was the hospital room where I was. I watched as the doctor spoke softly. Why was he speaking so low? I watched his mouth move, and heard a faint whisper that I couldn't quite make out. Then I watched as the crying grew louder and more frantic. I began to cry. But why are there no tears?
Around now it finally dawned on me. Am I dead? Why can't I use my own body? All I could do was sit there and watch, as my loved ones just watched me. A month passed. Then another. I noticed time passing faster and faster, and my senses growing less respondent. I wanted so desperately to wake up from this nightmare. I never asked for this. I never wanted any of this. I watched Jackie's visits become less and less frequent. If only she knew what kind of affect she had on me when she was around. Her visits where the highlights of my short periods of consciousness.
I looked at the clock. The hands were spinning. Hours became seconds. Days went by in the blink of an eye. When suddenly, it all stopped. The clock slowed down to normal time, and I could move again. I sat myself up, and looked around. I was alone. But I wasn't in the hospital anymore. Now I was sitting back in my room. I looked at my side, and Jackie was there, sleeping.
I got out of bed slowly. I didn't want to wake her. I walked into the kitchen, sat down, and started bawling. Why did it have to be that? I'd heard stories of people reliving their first vacation, their first time, the moment they were born even. Why did I have to get the coma? I looked at the table, and saw the picture of myself, my mother, and Jackie. It must have been after the coma. I had a large plump of hair missing on the right side of my head, just above my ear. If it had been just an inch lower, I'd be half deaf right now. Damn was I lucky.
I started heading back to the bedroom, I had work in the morning and I needed all the sleep I could get. I don't even know why I decided to try this stuff, I stopped my drug habits when I was 20. But I was told that this was THE thing. I should never have trusted Todd. Not after last time. I crawled back into bed with Jackie, and checked the clock. 2 AM. At least I can get a few hours of sleep before work in the morning. I, no, we left it all behind for a reason. And after this experience, I was never going back.
---------------------------
Very much enjoyed this prompt. I haven't written like that in a long time, felt good. Thanks OP! | Today's the day, I'm going to do it, you hear about celebrities doing it all of the time, and they're always fine. It's not like your life will end if it all goes wrong. I'm so nervous, how can doing something so simple be so difficult. What if she doesn't love me anymore, what if she disowns me, I'd have nowhere to go.
I suddenly find myself walking down the stairs, I've planned for this for a while now, but I'm nervous, I can feel my hands going clammy, and I just take a deep breath and walk into the kitchen.
"Mum can I talk to you?" I say quietly
"What have you done this time?" she asks in her usual suspecting tone.
"Please don't be angry, I've wanted to tell you for a while"
"Spit it out, son" she says impatiently
After what seems like an eternity I decide that the time is now, I need to stop hiding from myself and other people. "I'm Gay". |
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | "Are you serious?", I said as I looked around the room and all the smiling faces. " you're joking right? Like this actually works?"
My friends invited me over for our bi-monthly trip. I wasn't really a fan. I always end up freaking out and breaking something.
"Yeah dude seriously. Take this and you can relive a memory. It's random though so if you got molested as a child things could get weird." I was intrigued but kind of hesitant. My childhood was boring. Like what if I get a memory that is just me sitting in my room watching school of rock and eating a hot pocket? I guess it's not that bad. I haven't seen that movie in a while.
"I think I want to watch someone else do it first", I said
"Alright, Katie you brought them. You go first"
Katie was a bitch, but she always had drugs so I guess she is cool.
Katie opened her bag and pulled out a canister. It looked like it was from space. She twisted the top and with a satisfying click the corner of a plastic bag popped out. She pulled out the plastic bag and I was done.
"That's meth. I'm doing meth you idiots", I angrily shouted.
Katie rolled her eyes and said, "it's not meth. Chill out. Just watch".
Just like someone would do with meth she laid it on the table, crushed it, and snorted it.
"Seriously?"
"Shut up just watch"
Katie laid her head back and blacked out. Ten seconds later she wakes up and smiles.
"How long was I out?"
"Like a few seconds", I said
"Really?! It felt like at least two hours. Anyways, my memory was pretty crazy. It was a fight I got into with this chick in middle school. I broke her nose. It was a pretty funny memory. That's really it. Somebody else go."
Everyone looked at me. I began to sweat. I thought for a moment and gave in.
"Fine I'll do it"
Slowly I take the crystal looking memory drug and crushed it. I stared at it for a moment and went down and let it travel through my nose.
I laid my head back and waited. I was nervous but I couldn't let anyone know that. I took one last deep breath and everything changed. I heard noises. Familiar noises. My parents. Images of my childhood flashed in front of my eyes. They started getting longer and slowing down until a final scene stopped and I dove into the memory.
"Are you serious?", I said as I looked around the room and all the smiling faces. " you're joking right? Like this actually works?"
My friends invited me over for our bi-monthly trip. I wasn't really a fan. I always end up freaking out and breaking something.
"Yeah dude seriously. Take this and you can relive a memory. It's random though so if you got molested as a child things could get weird." I was intrigued but kind of hesitant. My childhood was boring. Like what if I get a memory that is just me sitting in my room watching school of rock and eating a hot pocket? I guess it's not that bad. I haven't seen that movie in a while.
"I think I want to watch someone else do it first", I said
"Alright, Katie you brought them. You go first"
Katie was a bitch, but she always had drugs so I guess she is cool.
Katie opened her bag and pulled out a canister. It looked like it was from space. She twisted the top and with a satisfying click the corner of a plastic bag popped out. She pulled out the plastic bag and I was done.
"That's meth. I'm doing meth you idiots", I angrily shouted.
Katie rolled her eyes and said, "it's not meth. Chill out. Just watch".
Just like someone would do with meth she laid it on the table, crushed it, and snorted it.
"Seriously?"
"Shut up just watch"
Katie laid her head back and blacked out. Ten seconds later she wakes up and smiles.
"How long was I out?"
"Like a few seconds", I said
"Really?! It felt like at least two hours. Anyways, my memory was pretty crazy. It was a fight I got into with this chick in middle school. I broke her nose. It was a pretty funny memory. That's really it. Somebody else go."
Everyone looked at me. I began to sweat. I thought for a moment and gave in.
"Fine I'll do it"
Slowly I take the crystal looking memory drug and crushed it. I stared at it for a moment and went down and let it travel through my nose.
I woke up and everyone was looking at me.
"What did you see?"
I was so pissed.
"Yeah, It didn't work. Everything was black. I'm just gonna go home"
| As an experienced Psychonaut I knew that the key to a good trip was to go in with a positive feeling and relax. With this in mind I laid down in bed and with a bit of forced optimism I popped the small, vibrantly purple, pill.
"What memory do you think you'll get?", said Shawn from across the room.
"I dunno, but Dave told me its usually something that had a big impact on ya."
Quiet laughter and a murmured response that I couldn't quiet make out came from across the room.
I closed my eyes.
And awoke in a dimly lit room, to see my father quietly weeping, sitting on the floor near my bed. A thin, high voice that had long ago deepened came out of my mouth, "Dad? Dad whats wrong? Are you ok?"
A disconnected part of me felt a strong sense of dread.
A six year old climbed out of bed, and with that high pitched voice of a young child said, "Dad its ok, you dont have to cry."
I didnt want to be high anymore, I didnt want to watch my hero break.
"I'm so sorry son. I tried, I tried, I tried. I couldnt do it, I couldnt keep her. I'm so sorry, I'm sorry." And again my father broke down in tears.
"WAKE UP! WAKE UP! GODDAMMIT YOU WAKE UP!"
Shawn was shaking me and I came to, with tears marking my own face this time.
Six year old me hadn't known what all that meant, but I had learned, and I knew now that it had marked an end.
The last of the high faded, and one last memory crept into my mind, the thought, "my parents will never get divorced" as I happily tucked in for the night.
|
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | At first when I heard about it, I was afraid. I knew I just had to try it. It's all the rage. It's been dubbed as "Better than LSD," "More fun than anything you've ever had before," and so on. But I was going to be the judge of that. I called up my dealer, Todd. He said he just got some, was selling it at a pretty steep price. I cut a deal, and we were going to meet in an hour at the usual spot.
I arrived, and Todd was about to light some up himself. He gave me a small bag of a light blue, almost teal, substance. I forgot my lighter at home, so I had to borrow Todd's. The two of us rolled this stuff like cigarettes, and started smoking. Immediately I was back in my childhood home.
I had no idea how old I was, or what this was. I was sitting in my room, but it wasn't me. I felt as if I was a ghost, floating above myself, staring down, judging. Like that feeling you get when you think somebody's watching you. Except this time, you are actually watching.
I heard a banging at the door, and my former self snapped straight to it, with a face of fear on his, or my, face. I watched as my father slammed open the door, belt in one hand, beer in the other. I watched as I backed into the corner of my room, near to my old closet. I remember the door being broken later in my life. Was this why?
My father grew closer and closer. And with each step, I shuddered. I was so afraid. But why? My father was never aggressive, as far as I remember. Hell, I don't even remember who my dad was. Which helped me to realize that I must have been at most 14 years old when this happened. Although my interpretation of time isn't my strongest point.
My father was right over me now. I wasn't sure what would come first, the empty bottle or the belt. I was crouched in the corner, bracing for what could be the worst pain a child could feel. With myself looking away, I couldn't see what it was that brought with it the most horrible pain I'd ever felt in my life. I watched myself slouch over.
I opened my eyes to a crowd of spectators and a hospital crew. Todd had shook me awake. I looked around, gathered my surroundings, and tried to stand myself up. But why can't I move anymore? I'm staring straight at Todd, but I'm stuck. I stared at Todd, screaming for help. The EMTs had grabbed me, and put me in the ambulance while running so many tests on me. But couldn't they see I was awake? I'm right here, dammit! Why are you doing this? I'm OK!
They ignored me. I stopped screaming, I was wasting my time. I was just going to have to deal with this shit, and I could get on with my day. But then I saw my mother was there. Why was she here? I'm OK, and how did she even know where I was? How did they call her here so fast? I was only out for a few minutes. And now why is she crying? What is going on? Somebody, please, why?!
As the ambulance doors shut, I noticed that I wasn't in good shape. I had a mask over my face, tubes everywhere, and I felt like I was going to pass out. I reached for the phone. I needed to call Jackie. She needs to know I'm OK. But then I heard it again. The crying from the corner. Except this time, it wasn't my own. I caught a glimpse of my mother, Jackie, and Daisy in the corner of the room. But when did I get in this room? When did that phone I had just reached out for appear? And what happened to the ambulance doors?
A doctor walked in. I knew I was in trouble, but I recognized this place now. It was a hospital. More specifically, it was the hospital room where I was. I watched as the doctor spoke softly. Why was he speaking so low? I watched his mouth move, and heard a faint whisper that I couldn't quite make out. Then I watched as the crying grew louder and more frantic. I began to cry. But why are there no tears?
Around now it finally dawned on me. Am I dead? Why can't I use my own body? All I could do was sit there and watch, as my loved ones just watched me. A month passed. Then another. I noticed time passing faster and faster, and my senses growing less respondent. I wanted so desperately to wake up from this nightmare. I never asked for this. I never wanted any of this. I watched Jackie's visits become less and less frequent. If only she knew what kind of affect she had on me when she was around. Her visits where the highlights of my short periods of consciousness.
I looked at the clock. The hands were spinning. Hours became seconds. Days went by in the blink of an eye. When suddenly, it all stopped. The clock slowed down to normal time, and I could move again. I sat myself up, and looked around. I was alone. But I wasn't in the hospital anymore. Now I was sitting back in my room. I looked at my side, and Jackie was there, sleeping.
I got out of bed slowly. I didn't want to wake her. I walked into the kitchen, sat down, and started bawling. Why did it have to be that? I'd heard stories of people reliving their first vacation, their first time, the moment they were born even. Why did I have to get the coma? I looked at the table, and saw the picture of myself, my mother, and Jackie. It must have been after the coma. I had a large plump of hair missing on the right side of my head, just above my ear. If it had been just an inch lower, I'd be half deaf right now. Damn was I lucky.
I started heading back to the bedroom, I had work in the morning and I needed all the sleep I could get. I don't even know why I decided to try this stuff, I stopped my drug habits when I was 20. But I was told that this was THE thing. I should never have trusted Todd. Not after last time. I crawled back into bed with Jackie, and checked the clock. 2 AM. At least I can get a few hours of sleep before work in the morning. I, no, we left it all behind for a reason. And after this experience, I was never going back.
---------------------------
Very much enjoyed this prompt. I haven't written like that in a long time, felt good. Thanks OP! | As an experienced Psychonaut I knew that the key to a good trip was to go in with a positive feeling and relax. With this in mind I laid down in bed and with a bit of forced optimism I popped the small, vibrantly purple, pill.
"What memory do you think you'll get?", said Shawn from across the room.
"I dunno, but Dave told me its usually something that had a big impact on ya."
Quiet laughter and a murmured response that I couldn't quiet make out came from across the room.
I closed my eyes.
And awoke in a dimly lit room, to see my father quietly weeping, sitting on the floor near my bed. A thin, high voice that had long ago deepened came out of my mouth, "Dad? Dad whats wrong? Are you ok?"
A disconnected part of me felt a strong sense of dread.
A six year old climbed out of bed, and with that high pitched voice of a young child said, "Dad its ok, you dont have to cry."
I didnt want to be high anymore, I didnt want to watch my hero break.
"I'm so sorry son. I tried, I tried, I tried. I couldnt do it, I couldnt keep her. I'm so sorry, I'm sorry." And again my father broke down in tears.
"WAKE UP! WAKE UP! GODDAMMIT YOU WAKE UP!"
Shawn was shaking me and I came to, with tears marking my own face this time.
Six year old me hadn't known what all that meant, but I had learned, and I knew now that it had marked an end.
The last of the high faded, and one last memory crept into my mind, the thought, "my parents will never get divorced" as I happily tucked in for the night.
|
Good or bad trip. Your choice.
Thanks for the responses guys, I of course had to take a crack at it as well (be gentle it's my first try) | [WP] You're tripping on a new drug dubbed "Memory lane." It allows you to relive anything that has ever happened in your life with 100% clarity. The only catch is that the memory is random. | We'd smoked two joints by the time Fred got there and I was feeling pretty lazy. The stairs creaked as he came down.
"Sup guys," Fred laughed, "its like a fucking sauna down here, y'all smoked yourselves retarded yet or what?"
Pat quipped up, "Ha, Ha, Ha, very funny, now sit your ass down and role us another one." His eyes were blood shot, which was pretty standard. My eyes never got bloodshot.
Fred grinned, "I'm fine with that." He sat down on the couch next to me and Pat passed him the rolling tray.
We sat in silence as Fred busted up more weed, then he pulled out a small container from his pocket, from which he took out a little yellow capsule. He pulled it apart carefully with his fingernails and emptied the powdery contents onto the weed. He did nothing to hide his actions and thus managed to capture 100% percent of our attention.
"What the hell is that?" I asked.
Fred smiled to himself, "I don't even know." He laughed, "Ron McCarthy said it takes you back in time. He's a full-fledged fucktard though. Guess we'll just have to see."
Pat's anxiety faded to a look of modest interest. "I wouldn't mind going back in time..."
Fred finished rolling and passed the joint to me. "You're the guinea pig on this one."
"Whatever I don't mind."
I took the joint and sparked it, hauling the thick pungent smoke deep into my lungs. It didn't taste at all like weed, more like raspberries and overproof rum. I hit it again three more times, then passed the joint to Pat and leaned back, sinking comfortably into the amber felt sofa. But it didn't stop there, I kept sinking, down and down a path that stretched for miles into an intangible gloom. At first I thought I'd been shrunk down and become trapped inside the couch. A red glow filled the confined space, seeping through the translucent skin that surrounded me. Then all of a sudden the environment squeezed in on me, pushing me down, and I tumbled through what I suddenly realized was a viscous fluid. The pressure built, then jerky vibrations and a repetitive noise filled my ears, like a distant groaning. That was when I realized I was naked. Something was pushing me through a tube, and the word claustrophobic filled my tiny mind. Suddenly up ahead a crevice broke in the distance and through it poured a harsh fluorescent light, white and sterile as it blinded my fragile eyes. All of a sudden I was through, and a giant being grabbed me in its hands and passed me to another, who cried and brushed its giant lips against my forehead. Then I was passed to another, who passed me to another and shook me until I realized it was Fred shaking me and I had fallen of the sofa and was curled up on the ground in the fetal position.
And that was the first time I tried Memory Lane.
| As an experienced Psychonaut I knew that the key to a good trip was to go in with a positive feeling and relax. With this in mind I laid down in bed and with a bit of forced optimism I popped the small, vibrantly purple, pill.
"What memory do you think you'll get?", said Shawn from across the room.
"I dunno, but Dave told me its usually something that had a big impact on ya."
Quiet laughter and a murmured response that I couldn't quiet make out came from across the room.
I closed my eyes.
And awoke in a dimly lit room, to see my father quietly weeping, sitting on the floor near my bed. A thin, high voice that had long ago deepened came out of my mouth, "Dad? Dad whats wrong? Are you ok?"
A disconnected part of me felt a strong sense of dread.
A six year old climbed out of bed, and with that high pitched voice of a young child said, "Dad its ok, you dont have to cry."
I didnt want to be high anymore, I didnt want to watch my hero break.
"I'm so sorry son. I tried, I tried, I tried. I couldnt do it, I couldnt keep her. I'm so sorry, I'm sorry." And again my father broke down in tears.
"WAKE UP! WAKE UP! GODDAMMIT YOU WAKE UP!"
Shawn was shaking me and I came to, with tears marking my own face this time.
Six year old me hadn't known what all that meant, but I had learned, and I knew now that it had marked an end.
The last of the high faded, and one last memory crept into my mind, the thought, "my parents will never get divorced" as I happily tucked in for the night.
|
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