Anyway, I wrote a short story a ways back. It's still in its infancy, but I hope it'll be somewhat entertaining. Ususally, I'm pretty... against posting my writings on the internet.. for copyright reasons (In that I don't want people copying me (Paranoid, I know)). So, this story didn't take me that long and I thought it was pretty cool, so I don't mind losing the "Rights" to it. Anywho, here it is:
Prey
I looked into his eyes. I saw happiness. I saw hate. I saw need. I saw fear. I saw
his being. All of this while just walking down the street. Same with the next guy, and the
next girl, I could see who they were, in just one look. I walked to my school. Talked to
my friends, learned their secrets, saw their fears, their hopes, and their lies. I knew witch
stories were true. I knew who each of them were. Worst of all I knew what they thought
of me. In the group I'm not the leader, I'm not even the smartest, fastest or the strongest.
Except that I can see.
his being. All of this while just walking down the street. Same with the next guy, and the
next girl, I could see who they were, in just one look. I walked to my school. Talked to
my friends, learned their secrets, saw their fears, their hopes, and their lies. I knew witch
stories were true. I knew who each of them were. Worst of all I knew what they thought
of me. In the group I'm not the leader, I'm not even the smartest, fastest or the strongest.
Except that I can see.
I walked to my first period class. The teacher there, he was a cheater,
cheated through school, cheated in taxes and cheated on his wife. He didn’t like me at all.
I think he knew I knew. I had learned the hard way that people do not like to know that
you know their innermost secrets. My mother, a decent woman, was destroyed by guilt, a
wrongly placed guilt. She had beaten a man, who had tried to rape her, to death. She was
terrified of what she had done. I asked her about it once. She slapped me and told me
never to ask about that again.
cheated through school, cheated in taxes and cheated on his wife. He didn’t like me at all.
I think he knew I knew. I had learned the hard way that people do not like to know that
you know their innermost secrets. My mother, a decent woman, was destroyed by guilt, a
wrongly placed guilt. She had beaten a man, who had tried to rape her, to death. She was
terrified of what she had done. I asked her about it once. She slapped me and told me
never to ask about that again.
Second period. That teacher, a very nice lady indeed, was pure,
clean and uncontaminated by the sins of life. Break. I talked to friends, reviewed their
fears. Nothing had changed. Ding-dong. Third period. The teacher was an alcoholic,
never graded our papers, and hired a ho or two from time to time. He was a terrible
teacher. I saw his death happening in the next couple of days. Ironic. A drunk driver,
while driving drunk himself, would hit him. I chuckled as I walked by. He snarled at me.
It made me laugh all the more. A change in his emotions made me stop laughing. There
was something in his eyes. Bloodlust. There hate there too. And, there was buried deep in
his soul, murder. I shudder came over me, his anger was not at his life like it usually was,
but was focused in an acute point, and directed, at me.
clean and uncontaminated by the sins of life. Break. I talked to friends, reviewed their
fears. Nothing had changed. Ding-dong. Third period. The teacher was an alcoholic,
never graded our papers, and hired a ho or two from time to time. He was a terrible
teacher. I saw his death happening in the next couple of days. Ironic. A drunk driver,
while driving drunk himself, would hit him. I chuckled as I walked by. He snarled at me.
It made me laugh all the more. A change in his emotions made me stop laughing. There
was something in his eyes. Bloodlust. There hate there too. And, there was buried deep in
his soul, murder. I shudder came over me, his anger was not at his life like it usually was,
but was focused in an acute point, and directed, at me.
I shivered again. I had seen murder before, but never aimed at me. I choked, I freaked, I panicked, I got up and asked if I could leave. He said “no.” I swallowed, and sat down. He looked around.
Looked at his pencils, pens, his rulers, the scissors, the keyboard, an umbrella, looking
for a weapon. I prayed then, prayed to god that I would make it through this period. The
bell rang. I started. I smiled. I laughed. I was safe. I was alive.
Looked at his pencils, pens, his rulers, the scissors, the keyboard, an umbrella, looking
for a weapon. I prayed then, prayed to god that I would make it through this period. The
bell rang. I started. I smiled. I laughed. I was safe. I was alive.
Then it hit me, literally. A .22 caliber round penetrated my ribcage and broke out the other side. I collapsed and fell to my knees. In a sick, delusional way, I remembered playing horsy with my younger
sister. I was in that position then, and now. Blood dripped from my mouth and chest. I
coughed, coughed blood. Then the second bullet hit. Entered through my upper back and
exited out my leg. I fell onto my stomach, rolled to my back to look at the ceiling.
sister. I was in that position then, and now. Blood dripped from my mouth and chest. I
coughed, coughed blood. Then the second bullet hit. Entered through my upper back and
exited out my leg. I fell onto my stomach, rolled to my back to look at the ceiling.
He towered over me. And then, as my vision darkened he said; “there isn’t room for two of
us” with the weapon pointed at me he pulled the trigger. The bullet hit the ground right
next to me. He drew the firearm up, pointed it at his head and pulled the trigger for the
fourth time that day. He fell to the floor next to me.
us” with the weapon pointed at me he pulled the trigger. The bullet hit the ground right
next to me. He drew the firearm up, pointed it at his head and pulled the trigger for the
fourth time that day. He fell to the floor next to me.
I looked at him. There was something in his mind. Not something, someone. And then it was in my mind. A conceptual parasite. A mind taker. Brain eater. Thought leach. I sensed its mind
then. Evil. No thought, just move from one host to another. And so in one day I had gone
from master and predator of all those around me, to prey, cowering in the inner darkness
of my own, scared mind.
then. Evil. No thought, just move from one host to another. And so in one day I had gone
from master and predator of all those around me, to prey, cowering in the inner darkness
of my own, scared mind.
Kayvon. Like always, your writing always inspires me to be a better writer. You always know exactly how to blend humor and the point you are trying to prove. Your blog always keeps me entertained and I love it ! (: You have an amazing writing style and I look forward to reading your next post.
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