Friday, October 29, 2010

Short Story - The Hole

Foreword - Something I wrote, hopefully you enjoy it. Be sure to leave me a comment. :)

    The air that I was breathing was not pure. It was intolerable, disgusting and sickening... but I needed it to survive. I'm not exactly sure how or why I was in there; how long I have been there or my location. The only thing I do know is that I was underground, Below me, the ground is soil. The walls were lined with dirt. Above me is a pale artificial light that was around 40 feet above me that never seemed to dim or go out. The sound of a constant ticking, like a clock rang through the pit that contained me. Using those ticks, I had the idea of measuring time, in between my cries for help. "HELLO!?" I would scream. "IS ANYONE AROUND?!" I would yell. "CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?!?" I would say to myself. But nothing replied to me, except for the ticking. The dirt and gravel became my family, the pebbles became my friends, the light above became my God and the ticking... The ticking was the devil.

  During the span of time that I was in the hole, I had not once taken a full breath of air. It was as if I held my breath till the very moment I needed to breath in order to retain sustenance, in order to hear footsteps. But I didn't. For every tick that passed I scraped a line on the wall, it was a good opportunity to remain focused, while doing this tedious task I reached into my memories. My school friends, and the good times we had. My beloved Mother, and all of my love for her. My Sister... at this point I broke my nail, I was lost in my memories and paid no attention to the force I was putting into the ticks. My nail was no longer attached to my finger, rather it had landed somewhere in the dirt floor which had now been splattered with my blood. My mind was still on my Sister, so I had no care for the pain and continued my task in carving notches. Rocking back and forth, my anger towards my sister had began to build up. I loathed her, what she had done to me could not be forgiven.

Although what it was at the time that made me angry, I do not remember. Nor could I remember my name. I couldn't remember how to tell time, or to form a coherent sentence. I grunted back at every tick, in order to exercise my voice. This was my primary objective from then on. I did it until my head was ringing like a pair of symbols splashed inside of both of my ear drums. To help calm myself I took a break from my grunting, and sat in the corner of the pit holding both of my ears. I then took the time to check the heavenly light above me, it was still shining. There was hope that I would be found. I felt that I was going insane, I had been grunting and shouting involuntarily for what seemed to be days without any rest. I stripped off my clothes and then slouched back into my corner, I then, for reasons that I could not remember slammed the back of my head into the dirt wall behind me. Even though my eyes where already opened, they felt as if they opened again.

I was in a rocking chair, looking out of a window. The floors where tiled linoleum, the ceilings and walls were coated in a cheap plaster. I had a hospital gown on, and I was shaking. The temperature changed drastically, as I was sweating as well. I saw a reflection in the mirror, it was a nurse carrying a tray. "Take these," she forced the pills down my throat and said. "You have a visitor."I stared back into my window and saw my Sister sauntering behind the nurse. My face turned red, she could see this. She asked me "Are you still mad at me, David?" I could not respond, my mouth could not move. I then noticed my reflection, my head was completely covered in gauze. "It was an accident, you know..." she shed a single tear and continued "I was drunk, I'm never drinking again" I wanted to grab her by the collar and throw her on the floor, and scream "WHY?!?". But I couldn't, my arms or any other part of my body except my eyes could move. She insisted "You are still mad at me, I can see it in your eyes... I want you to forgive me!" I continued to stare into the reflection. "Don't you remember I came here yesterday, and after everything I said to you you just wouldn't stop screaming"

She touched my arm, I could see this, but not feel; but as she did my memories came racing back to me. I was walking home from a party with a friend, but no shorter than one block away I could hear tires screeching. The highbeams of the car disoriented me and I stared as the car advanced, I was slightly tipsy and asked my friend "Anthony, what is tha-" Before I could finish he shouted "David! WATCH OUT!" and pushed me out of the way, though it did no good. The car hit me and killed Anthony, I rolled into a ditch by the side of the road. The car continued speeding away and in the silence I could hear my watch ticking slowly.

The End

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Short Story - The office  . Click

I sat slumped in my shitty chair, in front of my shitty desk, during my shitty job. My eyes remained focused on the clock with it's narrow, yet daunting hands, pacing so slowly I wondered to myself if I was going back in time. The time was 9:38AM, I soon after took a side-glance at the picture sitting on my desk. The portrait of the dog looked very good on my desk. I did not own the dog in the picture on my desk. My thoughts raced through the memories that I would have, had I owned the dog. Running through parking lots, up and down sidewalks. I would sit next to my imaginary fireplace, in a comfortable chair and rub his light brown belly. But that never happened. The time was 9:39PM. I put the picture from my desk in my pocket.

    The faces of my co-workers blurred out as I rushed to the elevator,  I pressed 1F on the elevator. While descending alone in the elevator I thought to myself, why do people own dogs? Is it to bask in the feeling of superiority? To enjoy the feeling of completely controlling another animals life? The companionship? The elevator reached the lobby, I made my way to the exit with a mask of determination over my face. The time was 9:45PM. Once out of the lobbies industrial grand doors, crafted out of glass and metal I began to sprint to my car. The time was 9:50PM. I unlocked my car, and hardly before I could sit down in my seat I hit the gas pedal and drove down the block at full speed. My eyes where being dragged off the road by the Speedometer, with it's narrow, yet daunting hands. I looked at my watch, it was 9:54PM.

   My brain was thinking faster than my watch could ever count, or my car could ever drive. About what? I do not remember. I turned Left. I turned Right. I turned Right again. The sky suddenly turned dark, I looked at my watch and it was 9:59PM. I began sweating, and breathing fast. I was anxious to reach my destination, so I pedaled the gas a bit farther. My dress collar began to wilt, my eyes where squinted in between the headlights weak illumination and the darkness of the city. I reached my destination. I wiped the sweat off my forehead, took a deep breath and looked at my watch. It was 10:01. I sat in my car screaming to myself, punching the steering wheel and crying. Until I looked up.

    Once I looked up I caught eye of a display window across the street from my destination. Inside of the window was a small dog, of which breed I am not sure. I looked at the picture in my pocket, then back at the dog. I shrugged my shoulders and said to myself "Good enough". I walked over to the storefront and broke the window, being careful not to get any glass on the puppy. Once the stores interior was available to me I picked up the little dog and placed him in my pocket, and put the picture of the dog in place of it.

   Day has broken, and again I sat slumped in my shitty chair, in front of my shitty desk, during my shitty job. But instead of looking at the clock, I thought of my new dog. I thought of what I would name him, where I would take him first, what I would teach him. I smiled to myself in the first time for over 20 years. All of my thoughts where drawn to a halt as three uniformed Police Officers walked into my office. The third one in closed the door to my office. Once in my office, the first Police officer reached into his coat pocket and with a smile, placed the portrait of the dog on my desk. Through his grin, he said "You forgot this." and walked away.

 I love my dog.