Short Story Contests discussion
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Weekly Contests
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Week 40 (July 27 - August 1) Done (finally!)
Hey, it's the best word ever! I made a decision not to write anything until I'm done with my book but I might have to enter this one since I voted for it.
I thought you told me you sucked at writing. Why are you writing a book?
Cool! I have just the thing. I hope I can make up with the words. It looks long in my tini-mini notebook. I'm typing it now.
Title: Lady PrankstressAuthor: SiNgUrL
Words: 1,414
Date: 07/28/09
Christel dressed the way she never did before. She wore a black miniskirt which cut above the knee showing her flawless and soft legs she never flaunted before. A tight tank top hugging her perfect breasts and upper body emphasizing her fair and perfect skin. She wore black mascara and eyeliners on her brows and eyes, violet contacts that looked perfect with her curly and long lashes and her lips were colored with crimson red to flaunt her full and kissable lips and lure her victims for revenge.
She walked straight and with full confidence holding her invitation letter to the most popular party of her High school Senior Year.
She wasn’t nervous at all because she felt like another person. She knew no one would realize who she really was especially that she curled her straight hair and colored it silky black with hints of red from its original reddish brown crown to complete her disguise and prank for the night.
Everyone she passed by stared at her even the most popular guy who she wanted her revenge from the most.
Her target was the “Oh-So Glorious Football Team” who played with her feelings because they thought she was dumb. That she was stupid and desperate for attention. All because everyone in school thought she was weird because she was shy and more comfortable when left alone.
But now, she wanted to prove them wrong – Ian, Evan, Lawrence, Tim, Bryan and Brent. They all played with her and hurt her, together with the help of Naiza and three other cheerleaders.
It started when Brent courted her by asking her to the prom and she agreed because he looked sincere with his lines of “All the girls like me but you. Maybe that’s why I like you more than anyone else.” Or “I think I’m falling for you but I’m afraid that I’ll just hurt you in the end.” And the flowers and love notes everyday in her locker. She ended believing and trusting him. But when she dressed for the prom, he never came and when she approached him the day after that in school.
“Y-you… didn’t come,” Christel cleared her throat, all innocent because she believed that there was an acceptable reason behind it.
“What are you talking about?” Naiza asked her and clung to Brent who was hesitant but looked cocky with Naiza in the end.
“The… Prom?” Christel whispered.
“Prom? How foolish! He did come and we enjoyed the night!” she raised a brow on Christel and smiled triumphantly.
“But…”
“I’m sor-” Brent was about to say something but Naiza pulled him away.
“Come on Brent! Let’s leave,” she looked at me from head to toe with disgust.
“We don’t want her weirdness brushing off on us, do we?” she rolled her eyes and groaned.
That afternoon, there was still hope left in Christel that Brent didn’t mean to hurt her but she heard it all from Naiza. Minnie, Dina and Belle who dared Brent to court her if he could.
“He hesitated at first. The idiot! But his team made him,” Naiza giggled and tears rolled down Christel’s cheeks. They all hurt her.
That bight she cried her eyes out in front of the computer while chatting with her online friend Michael- her reliever and confidante even if they’re only chat mates.
Mike_21851420:Maybe he didn’t mean2 hurt u
Yztel:but they already did
Mike_21851420:But maybe Brent didn’t
She felt disappointed because it was like Michael was siding Brent so she didn’t reply back when another IM window appeared. It was her other chat mate Cindy and she told her about what happened.
Cindy_Flirtie:u nid 2 get back at dem, gurl!
Yztel:but im not d kind hu does
Cindy_Flirtie:Well, its abt time 2 change 4 d better
They chatted longer and Christel kept on thinking about what Cindy kept on pushing her to do and when she received the invitation to the party, se decided. It was time.
One by one, she lured the boys in different corners of the venue- seduced them when they were drunk enough and left lipstick marks- that wouldn’t wash off easily- in the perfect shape of her lips on their shirts. She left new bought ladies’ underwear and put them on their pockets for their girlfriends or parents to find out and if they did, it would be a very majestic prank. She wasn’t a good prankstress and it was all she could plan to do. It was her first time anyway in doing such things.
First Ian, then Tim and the other three and at last Brent.
Brent watched her since she arrived at the party but didn’t know what she was up to. Brent was a little drunk but to Christel’s eyes, he already looked drowned in liquor.
They ended up in Brent’s car. It was the first time the whole night that she began to be conscious and nervous but her anger availed and ended up kissing him passionately but she remembered how she hurt her, she slapped him so hard, he passed out.
She left her little signature on his car door window. Her crimson lipstick colored kiss left the mark perfectly with the name “Lady Prankstress”.
It was the talk of the whole school that Monday morning. She felt guilty but proud she did it.
“She’s lady prankstress,” it was Naiza behind Christel while she sat alone in the cafeteria during lunch break.
“No. She couldn’t be,” Brent crossed his brows and shook his head.
“Oh yeah, I forgot. Lady prankstress was sexy, seductive and she-” she raised a brow.
“Chris couldn’t hurt a fly. She couldn’t do that to Ian and the other causing their girlfriends to dump them or their parents to get ballistic,” he looked at Christel in the eye.
“Yeah, she couldn’t-” Naiza was about to continue but they got in her nerves.
“I am Lady prankstress and I did that to defend myself from you!” she pointed a finger at him.
“Stop it, Chris! It couldn’t have been you…” Brent looked around looking worried.
“Wake up Brent! What proof do you want?” she asked seriously.
“I don’t need-” he said when Christel cut him off with the kiss. She knew he wouldn’t forget her kiss that was very passionate that night and the way she pinched his ear as she did.
Brent pushed her away and looked at her with disgust shaking his head.
“So it was…” he said with anger.
“I was wrong about you. I believed that you were pure hearted. I was wrong to have liked you very much! I was WRONG!” he snapped and walked away leaving her and Naiza followed him with a smirk.
Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably while the other students looked at her with shock, fear, anxiety and disgust in their faces. She went home right away crying for what happened. She felt anger, patience, love and hatred all at the same time. She didn’t know what to feel. She opened her IM hoping to find Michael or Cindy online but they weren’t.
Then by ten that night, she woke up and found earlier IMs from Michael.
Michael_21851420:U didn’t listen 2 meMichael_21851420:Now u did it
Michael_21851420:How cud u? I thot I knew u datz y I liked u
Michael_Brent:Im sorry for hurting u but it wasn’t me that night but naiza came.
Michael_Brent:Dad made me go wid her becoz he’s busness partners wid her parents and I cudnt say no to my dad.
Michael_Brent:Now u made the hurt worse so lets 4get everything
Michael_Brent:Its ALL our faults.No one 2 blame. Sorry but dis is farewell.
Michael-her reliever, friend and confidante had been Brent all along for almost a year now and she was ignorant of it. Now, everything was spoiled. For the one bad decision she did for herself and he was gone.
She felt her heart break into many pieces like a fragile piece of glass. She threw herself in her bed trembling with the coldness inside her. Tears flooded her cheeks wetting her pillows. She knew she was wrong and lost. She didn’t know what would happen next with hatred from Brent and disgust from the whole school.
For one mistake she did and her world crushed her whole being making her the most unfortunate creature and dirtiest criminal in the world.
One idea from a lipstick, proof from a kiss and everything bad turned worse. And nothing could save her now. Nothing and no one.
A/N: It's a sad ending. Well, not all has a happy ending, right?Hope you like it. It's shorter than I thought it would be but it's longer as I could see but hope you won't be bored with it.
:)
Davis wrote: "I thought you told me you sucked at writing. Why are you writing a book?"Being a bad writer hasn't stopped other authors. Besides, I have one book, I might as well do a few more...I don't mind the income.
Singurl! IT WAS AWESOME! I liked it, totally dramatic and really awesome! Thanks for writing and sharing it with us!!and Christy's a great writer, wtf??
Beg to differ, I think is the word your looking for. I'm going directly off what Christy said Clare. In a PM she told me she was an awful writer, which I think was just a shield mechanism, typical of the smug 24 year old type.
You needn't only use 'beg to' in that one common phrase. Have fun with EnglishAnd oh Davis, let's look at the transcript:
Davis said to you:
So riddle me this. If your so much smarter and mature than me, why did your story get one vote last week when mine got 8?
you said to Davis:
Cause' I'm a shitty writer.
Davis said to you:
Ahhh, but wouldn't you being smarter and more mature make you a better writer than me?
And you were claiming to be more intelligent and more mature than me. What's your point?
Don't make me post the whole PM convo, Davis, I'll do it...So help me God!I never said anything about intelligents, you kept claiming to be more intelligent than I and assumed I argued with you.
You then assumed I thought I was more mature than you and you told me to act my age. I said:
"Trust me, I am acting my age. 24 seems like a mature age until you are there. Hang out with some more 24 year olds."
To keep you from lying any more here are the only things I claimed:
"Trust me, I know more about disease than you."
"First off, yes I am arrogant."
"Ya, you got me. I'm stupid. I'm a big fat poopy face as well. "
I don't remember saying that last one, but those first two are def true. I admit to being arrogant constantly.I don't exactly see what your trying to get at here? It's just making you seem even more like a desperately smug 24 year old.
Dude, those were quotes of myself.I don't care if I am a smug 24 year old, why do you?
Well, up to this point you've deen denying it. I was just curious as to why your a published writer and then claimed to be a shitty writer after I beat you. Interesting, wouldn't you say?
I argued with you because...Well, it's funny. I wont right now because I have to leave soon.Why, when your argument is 'I won a writing contest and so I am a better writer and am more intelligent than you' would I want to argue? It's more than juvenile and a waste of time.
Besides, I don't know that you aren't a better writer than me. I've never read anything you've written.
I'm 16, I'm allowed some juvenile folly's, aren't I?
I didn't say you shouldn't have said it, but it was too juvenile for me to respond to.Like keep saying, I'm 24.
I could say it's a juvenile idea to think your above something, but you probably already know that.
Make the argument as long as you can still find yourself above rape.
I'm not making a joke, interesting that you thought I was...You can think being above something is juvenile and can justify almost any behaviour, in my opinion, but rape you cannot.
Ummm, I guess your right? You string your words together in a rather undecipherable manner.
SiNgUrL, I just read your story, sorry for the drama inbetween it and my reply.You did a great job! I thought it was going to be a Carrie rip off for a second, but you really surprised me.
Davis wrote: "Ummm, I guess your right? You string your words together in a rather undecipherable manner."Is that why you're a better writer?
I would assume that has something to do with it. I'm sure your ideas are wonderful in your head, but when it comes to writing/typing alot of them, they make no sense.
SiNgUrL What a twist ending, I didn't see it coming.. I felt really bad for her!
Davis wrote: "Ummm, I guess your right? You string your words together in a rather undecipherable manner."I understood her... Were there big words in there that confused you? I know, that happens to me too.
Davis wrote: "I would assume that has something to do with it. I'm sure your ideas are wonderful in your head, but when it comes to writing/typing alot of them, they make no sense."
Oh, so which of her stories did you find especially confusing?
Thanks Clare and Megan for liking it!I thought it would bore everyone. :b
Title: BanishmentAuthor: Kyle
Words: 2500
Date: 07/29/09
**Yeah I kind of just wrote this and then remembered the subject was *kiss* so..yeah just kind of through one in there but there is still some romance so enjoy :D**
“We can’t allow you to bring your influence on land Markus.” The Idrian Councilman said. His eyes holding firm against the cold stare of the Siren King. “You are powerful enough with control over the seas why do you believe you need to control part of the continent as well?”
I smiled smugly at the councilmen before me. My black hair was neatly combed back and my tunic was pressed against his body, I looked and was acting very professional. “Gentlemen, the area of Idra that I ask for is not even under control of any of the four major empires, why would my claiming it for the Sirens be that big of a problem?” The councilmen all frowned at me.
“Markus the treaty that the empires signed specifically left that area unconquered so the land dwelling empires would even in size. It was the perfect compromise.” All the others on the council nodded in agreement, don’t they ever disagree with each other? “No, Markus we don’t. We all share one mind, so we think as one. Disagreeing is near impossible.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, I hated it when they read minds especially mine.
I was stuck, I had no power over men but…, “Markus, my king, how are the negotiations coming?” I moved my eyes to see Karyn, my wife and the Siren Queen enter the room, her timing was impeccable. She looked at one councilman but somehow made eye contact with them all, “I do hope you all are having a good day, my lords.” The men all I had to look away from her because unlike me, she did have power over men.
The eyes of the men became hazy and their mouths slowly fell open as my wife smiled at each of them one by one, “Excellent work, who knew councilmen could be so easy.”
Karyn slapped me across the face, “Shh! You’ll wake them from their hypnotic trance.” I rubbed my face but couldn’t help but smile, “Why do you look so smug?”
“Power suits you, my queen, suits you in the most,” I eyed her up and down, “most becomingly.” She leaned down to kiss me when the doors flew open. With a grumble I stood, “Councilwoman Saraphine how nice of you to join us.” The ill tone I bared towards her was very apparent I did nothing to hide it.
“Save your pleasantries for someone who will actually believe you shit, sound good Markus?” I pretended to take a sip of my wine; the council was kin to the gentry and you do not eat or drink something the gentry or something just as old as them gives you.
“It is just the formalities I must show in front of your peers, again congrats on the becoming Head Council, you must be so god-damn proud of yourself.” Karyn put her hand on my shoulder, Saraphine and I go too far back for comfort, she always brought out the bitterness in me.
“You should really stop taking human sailors on the seas Markus, their manners and language are beginning to rub off on you.”
“Yes, and you should really stop hanging around the council politically-bitchy Saraphine is almost as bad as just bitchy-Saraphine.” The hand on my shoulder squeezed tighter.
Karyn leaned down and put her mouth against my ear, “you need to calm yourself Markus before they deny us any privileges we ever had. Let’s get out of here before she realizes what’s been done to the council.” She rose to her full stance then and patted my shoulder, “Thank you so much for your time Sara and please do consider our plea, we would so much love to be closer to the fellow empires.” Saraphine scoffed.
“Do you believe me stupid Karyn? I know you are more passive than your husband but do not try to pull off the kind powerless wife with me. Now get out of my sight, and fix my councilmen before you go.” She stood up then with her palms pressed against the table, “Sister do make haste with getting Markus out of here in an orderly fashion. The Great Hall is connected to me now and if I willed it the Hall could be very unkind to the likes of you two.”
I couldn’t stand it anymore. I stood up and pushed the grand oak chair I had been sitting in backwards and walked to the door. Wrapping my hands the handle and pulled the door open and let Karyn walk through and turned back to look at Sara, “Yes Councilwoman thank you for your hospitality and of course we will obey your every word and not conquer the Southlands, if that is your final decree.” All sarcasm or ill tone was gone from my voice again.
Saraphine’s eyes opened wide perplexed by my sudden change of heart, “I know you better than that Markus, do not try and play me or Karyn and you may live to regret it.” I nodded obediently and closed the door.
Karyn moved her arm through mine as we walked down the long hallway to the main entrance of the Great Hall. She peered up at me every few seconds and finally I gave in, “Yes honey?” She stroked my arm for awhile before actually speaking.
“What’s the plan? You’ve never been much for listening to the council, that’s the reason we control the entire Idrian waters.” Her eyes brightened at the remembrance of how, together, we had conquered the oceans. From today apparently, the council still held a grudge for that.
“I don’t have one but we are going to celebrate when we get home.” A worried smiled crossed her face.
“Celebrate what? We lost or at least they denied our proposal.” I was wrong her look had been confusion not nerves.
I was silent until we were finally out in the fresh air and walking along the sands of the beach as the waves hit our feet. The water calling to us to come home, but we couldn’t yet. First, we had to stop by the Southlands. As Sirens we can travel to anywhere the waters we control touch and since the same waters that touch the Idrian capital, Viera, also touch the Southlands we were on the shores of Southland before my wife could protest. “What are we doing here Markus, we’re forbidden.”
“The lands of Idra connect to those of power who inhabit it. The Southlands are tropical, not unlike the many islands in our seas; they are perfect for a Siren’s home.” She raised an eyebrow.
“But we cannot claim this land…” her sentence trailed off because she didn’t know what to say, she was baffled.
I smiled at her and moved my hand to the back of her neck and pulled her ear to me, “But our child can.” I leaned back to see her eyes opened wide but the moment the words I had said processed we were on the sand.
-9 Months Later-
It was nine months later to the day that we had conceived the child that was growing inside of Karyn. The Southlands immediately took to the child and bent to our will, even the council couldn’t stop it now, and the land was ours. Today our baby would be born and the Siren race could start anew but this time not only at sea but also on land.
The isolation had been our races down fall since the beginning of time but only recently, the past hundred years or so, had we noticed the drop in fertility. No water creature could produce with us and Sirens quickly began dying out from attacks from the other races: Humans, the Gentry, Vampires, Lycans, even the Children of Lilith had found ways to attack us and of course the other problem was Sirens becoming only mermaids, mute sirens. A siren isn’t worth much if it can’t sing is it? No its not.
**this is second part, look at post below this**Karyn and I decided that a change of pace was in order. The other five races had been intermingling for centuries if not millennia while we stayed in the sea. The others multiplied while we died out. Except for the Gentry, they’re a very proud race but horny male Gentry or Fae, or whatever you want to call them, will come visit a human woman a time or two…or three. Vampires are just constantly getting it on and their numbers have remained steady since if their ever running low on vampires they can just bite some humans and more vampires are made. I heard the process is actually difficult, grueling, and takes months if not years to prepare for the change but either way, it can be done. Same with the lycans or even Lilith’s Children, better known as wizards and witches.
Sirens on the other hand have to be ‘awakened’ and well, its not easy. Since Karyn and I are the only two sirens left awakening our child’s powers is going to prove difficult. The supposed to be Siren has to hear the song of another Siren and go to it, however, they must survive the turmoil a Siren’s song normally brings: boats into rocks, men leaving their wives, women drowning themselves to find the ‘man on the water’. Kelpie’s stole that trick from us, stupid sea dogs. Anyways, the catch to that is that the one being awakened must be in love with the Siren calling to him/her. See the dilemma? So do we. Thankfully, we have an eternity to figure out what to do as our child populates the Southlands with offspring who carry the Siren gene.
I felt a squeeze on my hand, “I’m sorry Karyn I got lost in thought, what’s the matter?” She glared up at me.
“The baby is coming.” We both smiled and the labor began. The process isn’t nearly as painful as it is for human women but its still painful. Karyn squeezed my hand with that last push and out came our baby boy. His olive skin was just like mine and her also had my jet black hair. He screamed for a while but finally he quieted and opened his eyes to show the sapphire colored iris’ he shared with his mother.
“Adonis…” I heard her whisper. I held her face with my palm and nodded with a smile, “Adonis. Adonis Gavet.” We smiled at each other and looked down at Adonis. He reached for one of my fingers and gripped as hard as he could. Tears welled up in my eyes, well they would’ve if I could cry.
“Touching Markus too bad its specifically what we told you not to do.” Karyn and I both shot a glance at Saraphine who was standing at the edge of the beach with her posse of councilmen following behind her.
“Your too late Sara, Adonis is already born and is tied to this land.” I smiled smugly, we had won we had finally won.
She didn’t even flinch, though her confidence wasn’t worth much as the Councilmen behind her cowered in fear of the storm clouds rolling in. “A little show of weather might isn’t going to stop me Markus.” She paused, probably for dramatic effect, “It is true that your son, Adonis, is connected to this land so, I cannot remove him from Southlands, it is now part of the Siren Empire.” Karyn and I flashed smiles between each other and held each other’s hands lacing our fingers together. We won, we really won…, “However…” I shot a glance at her, what was she getting at now? “Karyn and you are not tied to the land and can be banished.” Anger surged through my veins and as I looked at Karyn to reciprocate my disdain she could only feel despair, over Adonis. I gritted my teeth, now was a time for listening or a time to fight, I haven’t made up my mind yet though the councilmen drawing doodles in the sand with sticks was getting annoying. “Though, I am not so heartless as to deprive a mother from her child, Karyn can stay with Adonis.”
Karyn smiled that brilliant smile and I did as well. A laugh came from the council’s direction, “What’s so funny?”
“The way your face lit up its almost as if you thought you both could stay, it made me giggle.” Fighting was beginning to look like the best option very quickly. “You will be banished to the sea.” I laughed then.
“I am the sea, that’s not much of banishment.”
“I never specified which sea Markus.” The tips of her lips began to curl upwards into a smile, “You, Markus Gavet, are hereby banished to the Kiamman Sea.” Her voice had power behind it and the storm above began to funnel. The doodles on the ground began to glow and the pathetic councilmen chanted along as the glow of the, what appeared to be symbols, pulsated. “You will be held in captivity by Kiamma until your son reaches maturity.” I grinned.
“Eighteen years? That’s not bad at all. Kiamma won’t even get to use her worst torture on me.” I laughed. Saraphine met my eyes, “I didn’t mean age maturity I meant, Sirenic Maturity. Which as you and Karyn have made clear through your pleas for this land, could last milennia.” I could hear the roar of the wind as the gray clouds above me circled lower and lower to the ground like a snake making its way down a tree. I was speechless.
Saraphine’s eyes turned to Karyn, “You can save him this fate. You must relinquish your claim to the Southlands but you must also give up Adonis.”
I looked at Adonis and knew we could always make another one, so I didn’t feel too much remorse for my next action. I reached out my hand to Karyn and nodded towards the sea, “We can always try again.” I smiled at her reassuringly but for the second time today her face did not reciprocate the emotion I wanted.
Karyn moved towards me and kissed me passionately, like we had never kissed before. I moved my hands to her face and the thunder sounded closer together. She pulled away a little and stood on her toes and put her forehead against mine, “I’m sorry…” is all she whispered as she stood back on her heels and backed up never turning from me until she was standing next to Saraphine. Her eyes were down at the sand and mine…mine were on Saraphine.
I moved my hand towards the ocean and whipped water around and sent it at her throat, I would strangle her. With a simple flick of her wrist the water circled my neck, “Go cooperatively Markus and Kiamma won’t punish you like you deserve.” She held out an open palm in front of her.
“Go to hell you stupid b—“she curled her fingers slightly but not completely making a fist. The water around my neck tightened until my air was completely cut off.
“If I close my hand into a fist, you die Markus and I don’t think anyone here wants that.” Her voice was filled with the lie but she was being comforting for Karyn’s sake. I looked at Karyn pleadingly but she turned her eyes away from me. I collapsed onto my knees, fighting not to faint, not in front of all them. The gray funnel cloud encircled me and I watched Karyn through the cracks in the wall of wind, tears were streaming down her face. The wailing Adonis screamed in his mother’s arms as I was lifted into the storm, which would take me to my exile.
I looked down at my child, the child I had just delivered, the child who was supposed to save the Sirens, the child who…had ruined my life. I looked down at my flesh and blood and where un-ending love had been only moments ago was now replaced blood-curdling loathing.
Davis and Christy, I hate to state this so boldly, but will you both please just shut up??!
I don't have a problem with that at all.
You may use this for S.S.G.The story of a Denver drunk skipping out on work, language being PG-13, nothing too obscene. Hope you enjoy.
A Zenith Of Irresponsibilty
Author: Davis Mattek
Words: 1,195 (I kept it short hah)
The ceiling swam like a school of overzealous fish for Jack Cassady. The rather tall, gaunt man sat on his barstool, inundated within his twelfth beer. Sawdust beneath his feet gave him the curious illusion that he was sinking in quicksand; sloppily surveying his lugubrious peers, he swallowed the amber dregs of the beer. Every night before Jack began his pedestrian monotonous shift driving a truck for the Denver Post he hedonistically imbibed massive quantities of alcohol. Departing from the bar repetitiously at 10:55 P.M., arriving late at 11:05 P.M., consistently showing up prodigiously drunk, completing his route, returning home to sleep; the days indiscernible in their similarity. Tonight was but another segment in the continuous linearity of Jack’s life.
Jack stared down at his watch, twin images stating 10:45, float wearily towards Jack’s dilated pupils. The mirror behind the bar reflects a tragedy; his sunken eyes betray the look of a broken man. A man who has allowed life to pass him by like so much water over sand. Scraggly facial hair and a silvery mop atop his head exacerbate his jaded expression. His flannel shirt hangs limply over a frame depleted by malnutrition and alcoholism. Jack contemplates if he will have time to drink one or two more beers before he heads off to work. The memory of the occasion upon which he missed work to drink, and ended up kissing the repugnant barmaid for a bottle of Barton’s vodka bring a melancholy smile to his face. Luckily, on that occasion, Jack had phoned in.
Draining his thirteenth beer, Jack observed the time as 10:50 P.M. He pondered silently why he occupied this same barstool, night after night; he felt like a slave to some cosmic system that was determined to allow him no pleasure. He no longer got drunk, regardless of how hard he tried; he merely got numb. No longer did a bar represent escape or the conviviality of human companionship; it was the only place for him to drown the last vestiges of self-respect in peace. The women were gone, his child attending elementary school in a different state, every cent of his inheritance spent on legal fees, booze and child support, all his siblings refusing to speak to him, if they knew where he was at all. Everyone would drink like me if they had my problems, he thought. The judicial clock, staring disapprovingly from the wall, struck 10:55 P.M. Not tonight, he thought, I can’t fucking do it anymore. The same enervating routine, every night and day. I deserve an Olympian bender, then I’ll mellow out on the drink for a weeks. This was the 10th time this year Jack promised himself this.
As the clock struck 11 P.M, thoughts of Jack’s boss’ futile attempts at reaching him made Jack grin smugly. Delivering newspaper to distribution centers had been a decent gig for Jack, but he figured it time to move on. After receiving a warning once already, he would surely be canned after omitting to appear for his shift; better yet, he thought, I just won’t ever show up again. Jack was jaded with the rented room he was residing in anyway; it’d been months since he’d played the tracks and even longer since he’d been to a casino. Jack loathed himself for being a slave to the system; working for the ‘man’. Christ, he thought, I sound like a goddamned hippie.
At precisely 11:10 P.M, Jack ordered a scotch with water. Brutishly bringing the drink over, the bartender muttered “Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere else by now?”
“I’m not going in tonight, not feeling well. I work every night of the week, don’t I deserve a night off to get stinkin’ drunk every once in a while?” Jack crossly responded to the man behind the counter; he had never been fond of the bartender. Something about his almost-brown eyes made him appear creepy to Jack. The sort of guy I wouldn’t want to be in a back alley with, thought Jack.
“You walk in her stinking drunk already every night and then order 15 beers. Is every day a vacation or what? Anyway, I’m not giving you any credit if you get fired though, I know your type.” The bartender replied insistently defensive.
“Whatever. Just keep the drinks coming, buddy” Jack responded, not without a bit of annoyance
The bartender impishly walked away, leaving Jack all alone, yet again. He continued to gormandize his liquor, drinking as if to drown himself. Really, that is what I’m doing, Jack thought privately. I’m sick of this shit sandwich without the bread. Something has to change. After these next couple drinks and a good night’s rest, things will be turning around, he promised himself. We all know by now these promises were worth about as much as monopoly money. Jack was an alcoholic of the chronic sort, the type who can’t stop imbibing alcohol, no matter how hard he resisted. Jack has shunned every member of his family, and even other alcoholics can stand to be around him; Jack doesn’t care much for them either. He has no ambition but to drink and be drunk; if he ever felt happiness, he forgot what it was. A good day for him involved not being arrested, or sleeping indoors rather than on a park bench.
As the clock struck 11: 30 P.M, Jack decided he’d had enough of the bar scene; he had a bottle of port at home to drink himself to an alcohol induced stupor that one could hardly call sleep; if he shut his eyes, it was hardly restful. Paying the bartender with a grubby ten dollar, presumably the last one he’d see for some time, his keen alcoholic mind began turning. Deciding on applying at an auto parks factory, he quieted his survival instinct enough to enjoy the rest of the night’s drunkenness. Sloppily stepping out upon the pavement, he headed towards his apartment. Drifting by other seedy bars, a gas station with bars on the windows to presumably keep would-be armed robbers at bay (or to keep the clerks and customers inside, thought Jack), the moon cats an eerie effulgence across downtown Denver. In the macabre muck of downtrodden and pitiful examples of humanity, forgotten by society, discarded by the affluent, Jack felt at home.
Racing for tomorrow, Jack hurdled the wall at midnight, 12:00 A.M. Peering towards his right, he realized he was going to cross paths with the very place he had forgone this evening. The looming Denver Post sign shone like a specter; the sight made Jack chuckle. He was almost mirthful with his mischief, wondering if they had dropped his load of papers yet. Hurriedly, he made his way to the fence overlooking the shipping yard. A smile that mocked life itself, a smile that hadn’t been displayed in as long as Jack could remember, crept slowly onto his face like a lion after a zebra; stealthy, deceptively. This treacherous smile was directed at a pile of Denver Post newspaper that would never be delivered, on the cold, unforgiving ground where Jack’s truck was supposed to be.
Kyle ~ Very cool story, I liked how the reader was immediately immersed in the stories world.Davis ~ Very well written, I enjoyed it! ^^
Lauren wrote: "Beast story Davis. <3"XD
Does this mean we're not fighting anymore? HAHA
lol dude were guys, we don't hold grudges. We fight and we get over it. Well you might still be mad but I'm over it. Again, I'm pretty sure I'm bipolar or I just don't like being mad..its not fun :P
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Clare