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| Adventures; i'd love some feedback on this! | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 27 2008, 09:28 AM (724 Views) | |
| quibble | Mar 27 2008, 09:28 AM Post #1 |
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Brackenwood Newbie
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Every morning I wake up with the same resistance to movement. There is no sense in being awake if I have nothing to wake my senses for. Every morning a blast of sunlight pierces my eyes and I simply turn away and lay back to idly dream of adventures I could never have. Skittering blurs across my vision, that I dismiss as another reason to waste away asleep. The twinkling red light across the room glares at me snaps at me, demanding I pull open the recycled stories it has to tell. I placate it every time, wishing there was some way to break this cycle of degeneration. Nothing seems real anymore. I know through thousands of miles of wires there are others out there, refreshing a monster demanding to be fed, exactly as I am. But nothing seems real anymore. I want an excitement, an adventure worth being told. I don’t want to read the words; I want something I can hold. But nothing seems real anymore. Awash with endless possibilities all I seem capable of is slipping back into the routine that has all but dried out and left me crumbling. I haven’t been outside in day, weeks, I don’t even know. I need an excuse to leave. I need to leave. I am no good at making decisions which is why I am where I am. Everything is becoming an average. I want to escape into extremity, into passion, to feel something real, Something outside of the confines of my own restrictive mind. I have to focus my anxiety. I am looking for adventure. The monster whirrs and grinds, executing its own obsoletion. It growls to a stop, successful. It’s so strange moving without your feet. Hurtling across faster than I could ever run. As we rattle through a station deemed too insignificant to stop for, the clattering taunts the platform. Those left to stand on their feet curse another journey missed. Or so it would seem. There is so much futile rage in this world. A man is racing the train, chasing with his hand beating against my window, screaming stop. I wonder if he were to break through the glass and pull us under to be a smear on the tracks, would the train stop. I would never know if I wasn’t conscious to see it. The only thing I can be sure of is my own experience. The senses get so easily coerced into lies. Maybe if I die, the train doesn’t exist. Maybe if I die, we all die. I pray to God the glass holds, acutely aware of the irony the prayers hold. The train whips up speed out of the station, leaving my terror to fade behind. I drift into peaceful obscurity. There is a sense of tranquillity travelling under a power not your own. I find more peace in the journey itself than coming to the inevitable end. The darkness lifts as the train jerks to a stop, recycling old passengers for new. I dive out of the doors as they whistle closed, barely touching the platform step before the train is thrashing away down the track once more. The directions I took led me here, to this bustling street, where the tiny alleyway I am supposed to explore is brushed past and barely noticed. I peek down the hidden crack and see a light beckoning me. I look around, left and right, this is definitely the place. I squeeze into an alleyway narrow enough to touch me on both sides, without a glance from a passer-by, as I disappear off the streets. I almost regret getting off the train as an accusative voice hisses from a hidden corner. ’Psssst.’ I came for adventure; there is no backing out now. At least it is momentum keeping me steady, rather than inertia holding me still. ’H-Hello? Who’s there?’ ’I have a philosophical question for you.’ ’I… err… ok?’ ’Given the choice, who is going to die, you or her?’ ’What kind of choice is that? I’m getting out.’ ’So you’re choosing you?’ Click ’Woah! Hold on! You’re serious? Where the hell are you?’ ’So many questions…I want an answer.’ ’Well of course I’d choose her, whoever the fuck she is, you’re giving me the choice. If I die, nothing matters because I won’t be here to see it. But this is stup…’ ’Ok then.’ BOOM. ’What the… Oh My God!’ ’God is dead, my friend, you just killed him.’ ’But… but you killed her! Who are you?’ ’You’ve done a lot of killing today.’ ’I… What?’ ’Run.’ I run faster than my lungs can take, and harder on my heel than ever before. My bones feel like they are shattering against the concrete. I feel like I am breaking up in shards into the cracks of the pavement. I have to find somewhere to hide and rest. I can’t have much time to hide. I didn’t see anybody else in that alley. What have I done? The train! The clattering of the track will be my lullaby, rocking me back and forth to tranquillity. Blistering across the country under a power not my own. The place I feel the least worried about wasted opportunity I could be missing. I burst onto the platform as a train crashes through the station like an unstoppable behemoth, an express city-to-city far too busy for the likes of me. As the train flashes past my eyes, rattling and crashing, the speed of it all lashes at my senses, sending them reeling. I am locked into a sickness. My eyes whip past faster and faster, desperately trying to catch a hold, disorientating, whirling me into oblivion. I catch fragments. Nightmare images. They know I am coming, They have taken my haven and filled it nightmare violence. What have I done? I killed her! I am choking on the lump in my throat. I killed her and now she doesn’t exist! I had no choice… I can’t breathe. I can’t breather! She dies either way. I die either way. We all die. I can’t take this I’m going to bla |
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| Turnip05 | Mar 28 2008, 02:31 AM Post #2 |
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Majestic Turnip
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Wow! I love the fast pace and the suddeness of everything
Confusing perhaps, especially the conversation with the 'voice' and the gun, but I could really see and feel all that happening inside my head. I don't think I'll be able to go on a train anytime soon without thinking of this... Great work! And don't worry if you don't get many comments - not very many people watch the Stories section, and if they do, most don't comment I'd love to see more of your stuff! |
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| Idiot | Jun 8 2008, 03:11 AM Post #3 |
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Brackenwood Lightweight
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Wow. I know you've gone, but still, wow. |
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6:40 PM Jul 11