Nate's Short Story Thread! :]

Well I edited my last post, so go ahead and read that. :]

 

Thanks guys!! :]

I do not, but I can write one for you.

What would you like it to detail?

 

1.) Something inescapable

Something so forbidden as love should only escape the lips via whisper. Every time I seen her I smiled and whispered to myself. I would say: "Not yet."

Not yet, because the time was not right. And for some reason my body told me this. Each time I would stand to disrupt fate my heart would accelerate. Every beat going faster and faster until the rush to my head was too intense to stand. I had to see a doctor.

We'll start off this visit in a quiet room, sort of. A room full of hushed people, half of a room full. An off-white room. Everything off-white, literally.

The sound of pages turning can get annoying really fast. Especially if each individual has a magazine and they turn the pages at the exact same time. Each page turning in unison Coincidence?

My mind isn't really taking in everything right now. I'm listening to the bubbles form in the water dispenser after someone draws himself a cup of water. One after another. Draw, draw, draw. More water dispersed. More bubbles form.

Everyone in the room moves fast. My eyes hardly keep up with their movement. My body feels sluggish.

I'm not on drugs. I promise. Everybody just keeps doing things in order.

Everything is all right.
I promise.
Everything will be all right, too.
I promise.
I'm just a little sick. Just a little, I think.
I promise, I think.

And maybe I won't wake up tomorrow. Wait, what am I thinking?

Have you ever had a random thought pop into your mind? A little tickle in the back of your throat that urges you to think about suicide; about death. It makes you think about killing somebody else. Have you ever wanted that? Look what love does to you. Or can I even call it love?

Mr. Whatever. Yeah, that's me. I'm being called in by the doctor.

The doctor, he says to go to the room at the far back and to the right.

I'm not suppose to touch anything, I know. But with all these shiny things everywhere I can't help myself. I love shiny things. Pathetic, I know. Oh well.

The last thing I could remember was the mask being drawn over my face. Each light I watched disappear. Both eyelids closing out the outside world. Each light representing a different thought.

First light was the ability to cry. The second light told me that everything was all right. Third light kind of winked at me, it was strange. It didn't have a meaning. Or so I thought. It was really the doctor winking at me. And the fourth light was her, the girl I really wanted. She was waving. I couldn't wave back.

Finally I awoke. And hopefully I forgot....It worked I couldn't remember anything. What I loved so much was forgotten. In fact I couldn't remember what I loved from food to clothes. I totally forgot everything.

"Now," the doctor says, "Do you remember your name?"

I shrug at him and say something random. Something like Jeff. The doctor fixes his glasses and hands me more paperwork to fill out. I believe it was a medical bill. Everything I answered on it I guessed at; my name, insurance company; the whole shebang.

"Mr Ceder, there's someone here to see you." Some lady at the counter was calling me, or I believed she was.

I left the doctor to his studying of my sheet to meet face to face with a woman.

"Philip Dover," she breathes. This woman I don't know. She says, "It's been a long time." And she kisses me. I pull away and stare at her face. Somehow her green eyes ensnare me.

"Anthony, how do you not remember me?" She says. Her face was wrinkled with I forgot what kind of emotion.

She rubs her hands over her face and holds her lower lip. She says that I should remember her.

She says, oh Simon, and sighs.

This girl. I will call her Dizz, just for remembrance; for my sake.

"Dizz," I say. "I don't remember anything."

"That's not my name, Karl." And she's off: far away back to false-reality.

This world we live in. Sometimes we sit and think: What's the point in living? What are we living for? Is there really a God? Are we honestly ancestors of monkeys?

I feel my way along the wall to the exit. The door that would lead me back to the sun. Something I forgot that kept the earth warm and lit. Something that kept life flowing. Each wave symbolizing a person. First a huge tidal wave diminishing to a soft breeze of salted air. To nothing.

It was time I made another reality. But for some reason, for some absurd reason, she was still there. There and deep inside my memory - her smile behind those lips. Her blue eyes that captivated me. The blond curls that entangled me. All of it was there. All of her - still there. Everything but her name.

I still loved her. So much to say you can forget about love....What a lie.

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I made the character forget everything, but you can't always forget love.

I symbolized that in a few different ways. Lol. Like his name he forgot. And practically everything else.

 

Lol, well thanks. :]

 

Haha! :]

Your welcome.


Sorry about not being here to write for awhile. I was caught up in other things. Still am, but oh well.

Today I'm going to try a different style of writing, even though I write different all the time. Ah well.




1.) The Conjuration


Feelings/emotions change drastically for me within minutes, if not seconds. Things compacting in my mind, telling me to do this or that; telling me to say this or stop that. (Stopping what I do not know.)

I do a lot of things on whim, only thinking when I believe it to be necessary. Who doesn't do that? Who doesn't say something at first and think later? Everyone has done this. You have. I have, on numerous occasions.

And I know I'm hopping around, but I don't care. Paragraphs and sentences are all made up to equal something, and that is a meaning. You can throw words together and mean something. Children even do this, and they're not quite knowledgeable of what feet they're performing.

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It's about four in the morning. My head is pounding and I have, what I guess to be, sugar pumping in my languid body. This sugar high is quite contagious, accelerating my heart to multiple beats; faster and faster. Let alone my ordeal with subsequent heart-palpitations, still my mind is racing. Thoughts creating enigmas.

The sunburn on both my left and right shoulders hardly bother me as I scratch the itches of collected skin cells. One thing for sure is I can't seem to keep my eyes focused on the screen. (Let alone keep them open.)

I'm distracted by something, yet it is unknown. It is unfamiliar. Maybe it's sleep. I can't remember the last night I had a good night's sleep, my dreams haunted by strange environments and acquainted people.

To further discuss these dreams we will refer to our session as Lucid Dreaming. A word that has already been used, but will exceed its purpose.

Now, shall we begin?


*I will write to this when I get replies. :] *