Take it easy on me with this one... it's been a bit since I've written anything other than scolding text messages or letters to my one friend from high school that still enjoys occasionally writing things out in long-form.
I realize that it's been almost three years since I've visited this page, or even put a post up on here. Sometimes the things that you think that you are most interested in doing end up taking a back seat to something more important, or at least more time consuming. That's kind of where this thing was left off at. I was in the middle of my tenure as Lead Video Tech at Hughies and working almost 70 hours a week, every week, and not having the energy to want to do anything except rest and go back to work. I was sucked in... I couldn't get past that hurdle no matter what I tried; drinking, hanging out in Akron every weekend and drinking, or going out to some not so great places for my wallet and, well, drinking. It was my getaway, my drug, and it was debilitating. I'm by no means an alcoholic, but for whatever reason, I could go out and drink whether on my own or with a couple friends and be completely fine with everything for just that little while. It was totally unhealthy, and I'd like to think that I've gotten past that part of my life...sort of.
Let's take a step back for a moment. After five years of being at Hughies, I finally took the leap of faith and quit that God-forsaken job. Even though I learned a ton about something that I am really interested in, it was not a healthy situation to be in. Besides the ridiculous overtime hours and rampant drunkenness that was my life in those five years, I let a lot slip through my hands. Friendships dissolved, I was an outright prick to those who didn't really deserve it, and I made myself as unhappy as anyone could ever do to themselves this side of suicide. Funny enough, all three of these things mesh together and form the problem child that is my inner-self. Add in the drinking and deep, deep depression of Hughies, and it's a wonder I still managed to make it through that part of my life.
I'm not trying to be all dramatic or anything, it's just how I perceived things and how I still perceive that part of my life. My family was always there (and always will be there), but I needed more from those around me. A lot of the time, though, I wanted to be alone, just because of the amount of stress I had on me with this job. Drinking only helped so much (not really at all, to be honest), and I had a couple friends that could take me away from everything for a little while, but the realization of what was to be come Monday always came crashing back before I could get a hold of myself. I could have made more time for friends and tried to see what they could have done to help, for sure, but a schedule like I was running for the longest time was not a great thing to have to have a social life like the one I was hoping to have. That and excuses of exhaustion and sitting alone in my room certainly didn't help the cause.
What I wanted to have was just one person to be there for me, that one person that I could have, and hold, and keep to myself and would want to be there for me and leave what they had going on with their lives behind and I would do for them as well and just live with that one person. That's what I really wanted. I didn't have that. It was mostly my fault for that which has been said before ("exhaustion," schedule, alone, etc.), but I still felt that I could have someone now and my life would be totally different than where I am now. Believe me, I love living in Chicago, now having rid myself of the Cleveland Beast that I call my old life; that black hole of an existence that threw it's weight around and kept me from enjoying what little life we actually have in this world. Chicago has become my savior, my fresh start that I had always been looking for, and the inspiration for deciding to finally come back and write again.
Having moved here only a few months ago, I have found out who I really am. Depression lifted; the dread of another day at work gone; meeting a new group of people and a new city to cleanse myself of anything negative; everyone being so open and honest about everything. That last one is what really set me off on this tear... openness and honesty. I decided that now would be the best time to get some things off my chest and tell people how I really feel; to help find that person who I can have, and hold, and love, and everything else that I wished I could have that I, quite frankly, had been holding myself back from having. There wasn't anything out there stopping me from finding someone to have... it was all me. The way I acted, how I pretended not to care, how I ignored and claimed ignorance to... there was no one to blame but myself. I wanted so much for someone or something else to take that blame that I couldn't bring myself to admit it until now. It's a terrible realization, but a necessary one to get past those self-set barriers of the Cleveland Beast.
I told myself for years that I wouldn't try to be with anyone, that I was going to be moving soon and that it wouldn't be fair to either person to not have more time together. I was an idiot. I purposely held back feelings and admitting those feelings for people until it bit me in the ass and I was left this sad shell of a man (I mean boy, because let's be honest, no man would act as I had these past 5 years). I blamed my faults on psychology; the girls that had "undone" me from caring about finding someone (people like the stalker, the uncommitted, and most importantly, the one that I deeply cared about and was moving to the other side of the country because they had a job and the contacts and the bravery to move there and was just leaving me behind, throwing me under the rub like they didn't care... I don't have a shorter name for her, just know that none of it really matters in the end here).
The last one was the most important person to come in my life in recent memory. I truly cared about them. I wanted to put them up on a pedestal and worship them, regardless of how many times we argued or made each other completely crazy over the most trivial things. We never meant any of it, and we always made up in the end. My biggest fault with them (even though we were never really "officially" dating [even though we basically were even if neither of us said we were and, the biggest reason for that, because I couldn't come up with a good reason for us to make it official because I was young and stupid and didn't know better]), is that I never said that I loved them until they asked while lying in a hospital bed why I didn't love them (and yes, that seriously happened). Of course I said it then, but the weight of it was never felt because of how and when I said it. It should have happened much sooner than that (and if past me happens to be reading this, go tell her and stop being the little bitch that you are!). That's what the Hazards of Love are in my mind... your actions, you ill-timed words, and your own possible self-destruction. Any one of those could be your potential downfall. You need to be able to navigate through the waves of your own discomfort and give everything you can to make it something special. Of course, I didn't do that. I got angry for them leaving. I got jealous because they were going to that magical land that literally everyone in college dreamt of heading off to. I did everything I could to ruin that friendship I had with them because of it and tried to convince myself that it was their fault because I was left in Cleveland with the Beast and no longer had them to look forward to being with...
How stupid and ignorant I was. I know I said some things that I shouldn't have (what those things are, I have no idea and never wish to know what they were), and I deeply regret it all. I was an asshole. Plain and simple. I can't even make the argument that there was a 50/50 split on fault because there wasn't. I ruined that friendship on my own. I loved them, and I let that fall apart. Even a long-distance friendship with them would have been better than what I left myself with. Sure I had great friends back home that I could count on and were patient with everything else going on with my life... but it was this one person's love and friendship that meant everything to me. I am truly sorry for everything I have said. I knew the Hazards of Love, and I let them take me down a terrible road.
At this point I'm just repeating myself over and over again, but it is something that needs to be said. Me from five years ago would never had said any of this. Hell, me from a year ago would never have said any of this. Don't make the same mistakes as me. Be open. Be honest. And for the love of God, if you love someone, you had better speak up before it becomes meaningless. Don't get mad when they try to improve their lives. Be that friend you always should be and support them with every ounce of your being, even if it pains you to see them move on from you. And don't keep yourself out of something that could be equally as important in love and life because you will only be hurting those who could truly care about you and doing a disservice to yourself for your present being and your future self.
Be true to yourself and to those you love. You never know what could happen.
Sunday, May 8, 2016
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Life
This isn't quite how I imagined life was going to be.
As life rushes forward ever closer to my 24th birthday, things just don't seem right to me. My friends are all moving on to their next great adventure; some friends have even seemingly forgotten my existence. The invites have stopped coming, the connections I had hoped would be there have all but burned away... disintegrating into thin air. There's only a few that can truly say that they are my friend now, but they drift in and out, going about their own lives... growing up, just as we all do. I try to keep up, but it isn't as easy as you would hope. Schedules conflicting, last minute cancellations, just plain forgetfulness, all apart of any normal friendship. Why does is seem more prevalent in my mind?
I'm employed (thankfully), but in a job that I despise more and more every day, in a city that increases my revulsion of human life the more I look at it; the more I see the people who inhabit it; the more I hear the nasty, dirty, disgusting things that they say. Co-workers don't help. They only help to enforce that of which I didn't want to know in the first place. The broken system that we try to make our living in, only to be screwed to kingdom come. Ridiculous hours, little pay, and for what? The satisfaction isn't there. Was it ever there in the first place?
I live in a house that I so desperately wish to leave but don't because I'm stuck waiting for something that I don't even know will actually happen anymore. Broken promises? Too big for the words they speak? At this point, who knows. My family tries to make things better... try to cheer me up, make things seem not as bad as I feel they are. It drives me insane. My oasis is violated; my personal space that is open to every one and every thing. The revolving door that doesn't stop moving. When will it ever stop?
I don't have that one person I can go to anymore to seek comfort from everything that seems to be crashing down. Someone to sit there with, to keep each other company. To fight and make up with. To have and to hold. To ignore and forgive. To forget everything going on around you and focus on that one thing that makes you more uplifted than anything else. Not like I have the time to look for those things anyway. Or the patience. Or the confidence. I'm my own worst enemy. Any relationship that was there before is long gone; those bridges have been burned to keep myself sane. Obsession's got me beat. I tell myself I won't try because who know when I'll move on to my next adventure. Am I just scared? In denial? Hoping that the experiences that I've dealt with, created, destroyed, will cease if I don't try? I don't try. Now you know why.
My mind drifts. Memories stir. Depression sets in. Life goes on.
As life rushes forward ever closer to my 24th birthday, things just don't seem right to me. My friends are all moving on to their next great adventure; some friends have even seemingly forgotten my existence. The invites have stopped coming, the connections I had hoped would be there have all but burned away... disintegrating into thin air. There's only a few that can truly say that they are my friend now, but they drift in and out, going about their own lives... growing up, just as we all do. I try to keep up, but it isn't as easy as you would hope. Schedules conflicting, last minute cancellations, just plain forgetfulness, all apart of any normal friendship. Why does is seem more prevalent in my mind?
I'm employed (thankfully), but in a job that I despise more and more every day, in a city that increases my revulsion of human life the more I look at it; the more I see the people who inhabit it; the more I hear the nasty, dirty, disgusting things that they say. Co-workers don't help. They only help to enforce that of which I didn't want to know in the first place. The broken system that we try to make our living in, only to be screwed to kingdom come. Ridiculous hours, little pay, and for what? The satisfaction isn't there. Was it ever there in the first place?
I live in a house that I so desperately wish to leave but don't because I'm stuck waiting for something that I don't even know will actually happen anymore. Broken promises? Too big for the words they speak? At this point, who knows. My family tries to make things better... try to cheer me up, make things seem not as bad as I feel they are. It drives me insane. My oasis is violated; my personal space that is open to every one and every thing. The revolving door that doesn't stop moving. When will it ever stop?
I don't have that one person I can go to anymore to seek comfort from everything that seems to be crashing down. Someone to sit there with, to keep each other company. To fight and make up with. To have and to hold. To ignore and forgive. To forget everything going on around you and focus on that one thing that makes you more uplifted than anything else. Not like I have the time to look for those things anyway. Or the patience. Or the confidence. I'm my own worst enemy. Any relationship that was there before is long gone; those bridges have been burned to keep myself sane. Obsession's got me beat. I tell myself I won't try because who know when I'll move on to my next adventure. Am I just scared? In denial? Hoping that the experiences that I've dealt with, created, destroyed, will cease if I don't try? I don't try. Now you know why.
My mind drifts. Memories stir. Depression sets in. Life goes on.
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Who's There?
I had to leave the party early. There was no way that I could sit there anymore, listening to everyone just rabble on about how much work sucks, or that this person cheated on me and we should get together, and whatever other conversations happened in that time period. I'm an optimistic person, and between the drunken state in which I was in and the negativity and insensitivity of the patrons at that party were wearing on my nerve. Not to mention the sight of him.
It was a few months ago. I had just gotten out of a bad relationship; one that had lasted much too long. I was madly in love with this guy, but he didn't feel the same way towards me. I'm not even sure what drew me towards him anymore. He was a little abusive, a womanizer who I desperately tried to get to settle down and live a real, honest life. And for a while, he did. We moved in together, did everything that a real couple would do, and lived happily together. Things started to flip though, as he relapsed into his old ways. He was out late at night, claiming that he was being held over at work. Nearly every time he told me that, all I could think about was "who was he really doing work with"? I couldn't ever prove otherwise, but my suspicions took me over until I confronted him one night. That's when our relationship took a turn for the worst.
That night, he truly returned to his former self. So much, in fact, that I spent the next few days in a hospital bed, barely able to move from the brutal beating that I had to endure. To this day, I don't know if it was the hitting or the breaking of my heart that paralyzed me. How could someone you love act that way towards you, when all you've ever wanted to do was be with them and live a happy life together? It was gut-wrenching to think that we would never be together again. I did try to see him one more time, a few weeks after that incident, but he didn't show. I hoped that it was because he was too afraid of what might happen, or that he really hated himself for what he did and just couldn't face seeing me come back as strong as ever. Or because he was pissed that I had managed to communicate to a few of his next "lovers" who he truly is.
As I walked down the street to my apartment, I had a weird feeling that I was being watched. I could sense a pair of eyes following me as I hurried my steps, but I just couldn't place where they were coming from. I was almost at a run when a figure appeared in front of me. I stopped suddenly, and screamed, but there was no one awake to hear my pleads.
That was the last thing that I remember.
That was the last thing that I could ever remember.
It was a few months ago. I had just gotten out of a bad relationship; one that had lasted much too long. I was madly in love with this guy, but he didn't feel the same way towards me. I'm not even sure what drew me towards him anymore. He was a little abusive, a womanizer who I desperately tried to get to settle down and live a real, honest life. And for a while, he did. We moved in together, did everything that a real couple would do, and lived happily together. Things started to flip though, as he relapsed into his old ways. He was out late at night, claiming that he was being held over at work. Nearly every time he told me that, all I could think about was "who was he really doing work with"? I couldn't ever prove otherwise, but my suspicions took me over until I confronted him one night. That's when our relationship took a turn for the worst.
That night, he truly returned to his former self. So much, in fact, that I spent the next few days in a hospital bed, barely able to move from the brutal beating that I had to endure. To this day, I don't know if it was the hitting or the breaking of my heart that paralyzed me. How could someone you love act that way towards you, when all you've ever wanted to do was be with them and live a happy life together? It was gut-wrenching to think that we would never be together again. I did try to see him one more time, a few weeks after that incident, but he didn't show. I hoped that it was because he was too afraid of what might happen, or that he really hated himself for what he did and just couldn't face seeing me come back as strong as ever. Or because he was pissed that I had managed to communicate to a few of his next "lovers" who he truly is.
As I walked down the street to my apartment, I had a weird feeling that I was being watched. I could sense a pair of eyes following me as I hurried my steps, but I just couldn't place where they were coming from. I was almost at a run when a figure appeared in front of me. I stopped suddenly, and screamed, but there was no one awake to hear my pleads.
That was the last thing that I remember.
That was the last thing that I could ever remember.
On the Edge
(Note: This is an original idea. I realize that it has been over a month since I have written anything on here. Between work and other activities out with my friends, plus being extremely tired most days, I lost interest in writing anything. It seemed like one more task that I needed to do on an already exhausting day. Plus, whatever I was writing at the time, I just lost interest in it. For some reason, I came up with the premise and the back story to the characters, but couldn't continue on with it.)
This is it. There's no turning back.
I exhaled as I walked closer and closer to the ledge. This one final act of mine will certainly stand out. Everyone will notice me. Everyone will remember me.
I've felt, for a long time now, that I was just another pawn in the life of those around me. They can push me forward, in what I hope to be a way to improve myself. But in the end, I just end up as the bait for bigger moves, looking foolish in the process.
Claire was the first one. All the time that we spent together... All the dinners we had gone to; movies we had gone to see; the great times we shared... all gone. To think, my best friend being the root of all evil in this relationship, the very reason she had to let me go, is without a doubt one of the worst feelings in the world. I had confided in him. Why did he betray me like that? Personal gain? All he gained was what I see now as a manipulative bitch who will go through anyone to get to the one she cares about.
Next came my co-workers. Always leaving me out of the loop on gatherings and get-togethers. Do I embarrass them that much? Not once has anyone seemed as if I was as uncomfortable to be around with as much as the next person. Yeah, we all had our quirks, but it wasn't anything that anyone could look past, I'm sure. Besides, that's when I am at the top of my game! Everyone got a kick out of me! I even considered some of them as being my "friends" even though I never did tell them everything. They may have found out a couple things, but that doesn't mean that it is all true. The over-heard phone calls weren't what they thought they were... at least that's how I feel about it.
My family. How could they not be at my side in all of this? I've had such a difficult life, between work problems, women problems, and other personal problems, that it's hard for me to see someone just letting their loved ones just go like that. Could they not see that I was battling these things... battling the inner demons that stabbed and ripped at my body and soul? I've done everything I can to re-energize my life again, but the relapses seemed to take hold of everything.
I was lost.
And no one was there to guide me.
What more do I have to live for? Where do I go?
Since everything is heading down the drain, I guess that's where I deserve to go as well.
Goodbye.
This is it. There's no turning back.
I exhaled as I walked closer and closer to the ledge. This one final act of mine will certainly stand out. Everyone will notice me. Everyone will remember me.
I've felt, for a long time now, that I was just another pawn in the life of those around me. They can push me forward, in what I hope to be a way to improve myself. But in the end, I just end up as the bait for bigger moves, looking foolish in the process.
Claire was the first one. All the time that we spent together... All the dinners we had gone to; movies we had gone to see; the great times we shared... all gone. To think, my best friend being the root of all evil in this relationship, the very reason she had to let me go, is without a doubt one of the worst feelings in the world. I had confided in him. Why did he betray me like that? Personal gain? All he gained was what I see now as a manipulative bitch who will go through anyone to get to the one she cares about.
Next came my co-workers. Always leaving me out of the loop on gatherings and get-togethers. Do I embarrass them that much? Not once has anyone seemed as if I was as uncomfortable to be around with as much as the next person. Yeah, we all had our quirks, but it wasn't anything that anyone could look past, I'm sure. Besides, that's when I am at the top of my game! Everyone got a kick out of me! I even considered some of them as being my "friends" even though I never did tell them everything. They may have found out a couple things, but that doesn't mean that it is all true. The over-heard phone calls weren't what they thought they were... at least that's how I feel about it.
My family. How could they not be at my side in all of this? I've had such a difficult life, between work problems, women problems, and other personal problems, that it's hard for me to see someone just letting their loved ones just go like that. Could they not see that I was battling these things... battling the inner demons that stabbed and ripped at my body and soul? I've done everything I can to re-energize my life again, but the relapses seemed to take hold of everything.
I was lost.
And no one was there to guide me.
What more do I have to live for? Where do I go?
Since everything is heading down the drain, I guess that's where I deserve to go as well.
Goodbye.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
I LOVE THE JONAS BROTHERS!!
(Special note: I hated this topic, I'm not going to lie. You have no idea how hard it is to make fun of your favorite band... actually it isn't that hard, lol. All it takes is thinking of why you like them and then flipping it for the character. NONETHELESS!! And needless to say, this story is completely fictional (like I had to remind you about that). I would, however, like to give props to Nick and Kim for this one. They did their best to make me regret opening up my blog to everyone by giving me your suggestions for stories. But hey, I got through it, and that's all that matters! (This is actually the second idea the gave me for a blog. I refused to write on the first one due to not wanting to get in trouble for someone misconstruing the idea behind this blog. I won't say on here what it is, but if you PM me on Facebook or Twitter, I'll tell you what not to suggest when giving me a topic ;) )
This entry is in the style of a journal/diary entry, from the perspective of a 12 or 13 year old girl (a character that I hope to never have to be again.... because it's kind of creepy).
Original Suggestion: Jonas Brothers > Dream Theater
Suggested by: Nick Perna (@Nick Perna) and Kimberly Ann (@kimmiekonga)
OMG!! I hate my brother SOOOO much!! All he is is a jerk to me all day! Always hitting me and picking on me, kicking me off the tv. I'm so sick of it!!! =( And he is always blasting his music all the time so that I can't even hear my own music, which is so much better than his!! I mean, who would want to listen to a band called "Dream Theater"? It's sooo bad!! The singer guy is the worst singer that I have ever heard! He probably couldn't even win on American Idol!! LOL =) Can't he hear that he sucks sooo much?! He should quit, like, by yesterday! =) Their whiny guitar sounds, annoying weird piano playing stuff, and a guy on the drums that justs hits anything he wants to, not even making sense of what is going on in the song, if you can even call it that!! LOL!! =) My brother tries to tell me that this is real music, but I don't think so! Those funny looking old guys hold nothing to my lovely Jonas Brothers!! =) <333 I mean, Nick, Kevin, and Joe are SOOO HOTT!! =P They play the best music out there and look good doing it! =) "Mandy" is like my all time fav song ever!! It's just so amazing!!! Hold on and S.O.S?!? What isn't to love?!!! What has my brothers fav. band done for music? Obviously nothing since none of my friends have never even heard of them before!! LOL!!! My brother is soooo stupid for like something sooo stupid!! What kind of name is Dream Theater anyway? It's like they are trying too hard to be creative or mysterious or something stupid like that! It's STUPID!!!! =P Like, the stupidest thing of all time! Jonas Brothers are where it is at!! I can't WAIT for them to come to Cleveland soon, because I'm going to get seats in the front row so that they can sing to me!! <33 I don't ever see them not being my favorite band ever! Everyone is going to remember them forever!! They'll win every award because they are just that awesome!! =) I LOVE YOU NICK JONAS!!!! <33333 =)
This entry is in the style of a journal/diary entry, from the perspective of a 12 or 13 year old girl (a character that I hope to never have to be again.... because it's kind of creepy).
Original Suggestion: Jonas Brothers > Dream Theater
Suggested by: Nick Perna (@Nick Perna) and Kimberly Ann (@kimmiekonga)
OMG!! I hate my brother SOOOO much!! All he is is a jerk to me all day! Always hitting me and picking on me, kicking me off the tv. I'm so sick of it!!! =( And he is always blasting his music all the time so that I can't even hear my own music, which is so much better than his!! I mean, who would want to listen to a band called "Dream Theater"? It's sooo bad!! The singer guy is the worst singer that I have ever heard! He probably couldn't even win on American Idol!! LOL =) Can't he hear that he sucks sooo much?! He should quit, like, by yesterday! =) Their whiny guitar sounds, annoying weird piano playing stuff, and a guy on the drums that justs hits anything he wants to, not even making sense of what is going on in the song, if you can even call it that!! LOL!! =) My brother tries to tell me that this is real music, but I don't think so! Those funny looking old guys hold nothing to my lovely Jonas Brothers!! =) <333 I mean, Nick, Kevin, and Joe are SOOO HOTT!! =P They play the best music out there and look good doing it! =) "Mandy" is like my all time fav song ever!! It's just so amazing!!! Hold on and S.O.S?!? What isn't to love?!!! What has my brothers fav. band done for music? Obviously nothing since none of my friends have never even heard of them before!! LOL!!! My brother is soooo stupid for like something sooo stupid!! What kind of name is Dream Theater anyway? It's like they are trying too hard to be creative or mysterious or something stupid like that! It's STUPID!!!! =P Like, the stupidest thing of all time! Jonas Brothers are where it is at!! I can't WAIT for them to come to Cleveland soon, because I'm going to get seats in the front row so that they can sing to me!! <33 I don't ever see them not being my favorite band ever! Everyone is going to remember them forever!! They'll win every award because they are just that awesome!! =) I LOVE YOU NICK JONAS!!!! <33333 =)
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Mistaken
Original Suggestion: A father, wife, son and daughter at the dinner table when two gun shots go off
Suggested By: Chris Gutekunst (@CRGutekunst)
It was a typical evening in the Rancor residence. Mother was preparing the dinner table; Myself on the steps playing with my toys; Father and my sister we sitting in the living room, reading by the fireplace, the cackling and cracking of the wood a reminder of how cold it really was outside. It had been one of the coldest winters by far, at least in my memory. There was almost no snow to be seen, but the bitter air left our little corner of the neighborhood frozen to the core.
As it neared six o'clock, mother rings us to dinner. We gather around in the same seats as always; Father at the helm, sitting with his back to the window, which showed our tiny backyard, the beaten fence that covers us from the alleyway beyond out plot. Across from him is mother, doing her best to ignore the mess in the living room that I had just left by the staircase. To her right is my sister, disgusted in the meal that lay before us (she was a very picky eater, and never had much of an appetite). And my seat sat across from her, back towards the entryway to the tiny, dirty kitchen. I try to eat a slowly as possible, knowing that once out meal is over, it is my duty to clean up everything.
The normal dinner talk took over the rest of the evening. Father began complaining (again) about the state of the office he works in; the incompetence of some of his fellow workmates, and going on and on about how much he hates his bosses. Same old, same old. Mother didn't have too much to go on about. She seemed to have exhausted her supply of drama and gossip over dinner the previous night. I remember hearing something about the neighbor lady and a very sultry conversation she was having with the postman. I wasn't really paying attention to be honest. I never show too much interest in anything my parents have to say, as it normally is nothing of importance to me anyway.
Father was just about to ask my sister and I about our days in school, when a weird bang interrupted him. Something has just happened outside, but what, none of us knew. We waited a few moments, but didn't hear it again. We assumed it was a car backfiring or running over the pothole in the street, as is usually the case. As my father opened his mouth again to speak, we heard the bang again, this time in two quick succession. My father, with a note of hesitation, told us to stay as he jumped from his chair and ran outside to see what was the matter. We aren't quite sure what happened from there, but father came back inside, unable to discover the source of the disturbance.
We finished eating, I cleaned up the mess in the kitchen, and then ran up to my room to get ready for bed. I went to my window, as I do every night, and looked out into the nighttime sky. I sat there much longer than I usually do, so enthralled in the dark sky, with it tiny sprinkle of stars cast throughout the deepening vastness; the faint glow from the distant city beyond the horizon. Peace. I looked down towards the backyard and saw something rather curious just beyond the fence by the alleyway. Someone was lurking just on the other side by the trashcans, as if trying to look for something, or hide whatever was in his hands.
It was nearing eleven. So, as quietly as I possibly could, I made my way downstairs, careful not to step on the creaky floorboard at the top of the steps, so not to wake up mother and father. I wasn't sure what this person was doing outside our fence, but my curiosity told me to take a look. Even from my window, the person looked vaguely familiar. But without a good look at his face, I couldn't quite put my finger on who it was.
I scampered through the kitchen and out the back door, careful not to let it slam shut behind me. I crept through the yard, feeling as if the tiny lot had suddenly bloomed into a deep, overgrown jungle. Finally, I reached the fence in the rear of the yard. Walking along it, I reached the spot where I knew there was a tiny, hallowed out knot in the wood so I could peer into the alley, virtually noticeably.
I looked left and right down the alleyway, but could not see any sign of the stranger. I looked down for a moment because I thought I had felt something around my ankles. Possibly just a bug crawling around. When I looked up again, I let out a huge gasp and ran back towards the house. An unknown eye had been peering right back towards me.
Not caring about subtlety this time, I flew through the kitchen, up the stairs, and burst into my parents room. I was blithering, talking so fast that I wasn't making any sense. Father did my best to calm me down, and mother brought me a glass of water. After a few minutes, I tried to explain what I just saw, but neither believed me. I wouldn't give up, but still, they wouldn't hear it, telling me it was just a nightmare. Finally, I grabbed father by the hand and dragged him downstairs and out to the backyard. It all happened so fast. He opened the gate to the alley, took a couple steps, then a deafening bang cracked through the silent night, and father collapsed in a heap. I scream, and cried, and fell over the unmoving mass, now lying in a sticky pool of it's own blood.
We found out later that the stranger was actually the neighbor, waiting for the "unknown suitor" of his wife's to come back after he shot out at him earlier in the evening. Being the nervous man that he was, he shot at the first person to enter the alley.
Another senseless killing.
Suggested By: Chris Gutekunst (@CRGutekunst)
It was a typical evening in the Rancor residence. Mother was preparing the dinner table; Myself on the steps playing with my toys; Father and my sister we sitting in the living room, reading by the fireplace, the cackling and cracking of the wood a reminder of how cold it really was outside. It had been one of the coldest winters by far, at least in my memory. There was almost no snow to be seen, but the bitter air left our little corner of the neighborhood frozen to the core.
As it neared six o'clock, mother rings us to dinner. We gather around in the same seats as always; Father at the helm, sitting with his back to the window, which showed our tiny backyard, the beaten fence that covers us from the alleyway beyond out plot. Across from him is mother, doing her best to ignore the mess in the living room that I had just left by the staircase. To her right is my sister, disgusted in the meal that lay before us (she was a very picky eater, and never had much of an appetite). And my seat sat across from her, back towards the entryway to the tiny, dirty kitchen. I try to eat a slowly as possible, knowing that once out meal is over, it is my duty to clean up everything.
The normal dinner talk took over the rest of the evening. Father began complaining (again) about the state of the office he works in; the incompetence of some of his fellow workmates, and going on and on about how much he hates his bosses. Same old, same old. Mother didn't have too much to go on about. She seemed to have exhausted her supply of drama and gossip over dinner the previous night. I remember hearing something about the neighbor lady and a very sultry conversation she was having with the postman. I wasn't really paying attention to be honest. I never show too much interest in anything my parents have to say, as it normally is nothing of importance to me anyway.
Father was just about to ask my sister and I about our days in school, when a weird bang interrupted him. Something has just happened outside, but what, none of us knew. We waited a few moments, but didn't hear it again. We assumed it was a car backfiring or running over the pothole in the street, as is usually the case. As my father opened his mouth again to speak, we heard the bang again, this time in two quick succession. My father, with a note of hesitation, told us to stay as he jumped from his chair and ran outside to see what was the matter. We aren't quite sure what happened from there, but father came back inside, unable to discover the source of the disturbance.
We finished eating, I cleaned up the mess in the kitchen, and then ran up to my room to get ready for bed. I went to my window, as I do every night, and looked out into the nighttime sky. I sat there much longer than I usually do, so enthralled in the dark sky, with it tiny sprinkle of stars cast throughout the deepening vastness; the faint glow from the distant city beyond the horizon. Peace. I looked down towards the backyard and saw something rather curious just beyond the fence by the alleyway. Someone was lurking just on the other side by the trashcans, as if trying to look for something, or hide whatever was in his hands.
It was nearing eleven. So, as quietly as I possibly could, I made my way downstairs, careful not to step on the creaky floorboard at the top of the steps, so not to wake up mother and father. I wasn't sure what this person was doing outside our fence, but my curiosity told me to take a look. Even from my window, the person looked vaguely familiar. But without a good look at his face, I couldn't quite put my finger on who it was.
I scampered through the kitchen and out the back door, careful not to let it slam shut behind me. I crept through the yard, feeling as if the tiny lot had suddenly bloomed into a deep, overgrown jungle. Finally, I reached the fence in the rear of the yard. Walking along it, I reached the spot where I knew there was a tiny, hallowed out knot in the wood so I could peer into the alley, virtually noticeably.
I looked left and right down the alleyway, but could not see any sign of the stranger. I looked down for a moment because I thought I had felt something around my ankles. Possibly just a bug crawling around. When I looked up again, I let out a huge gasp and ran back towards the house. An unknown eye had been peering right back towards me.
Not caring about subtlety this time, I flew through the kitchen, up the stairs, and burst into my parents room. I was blithering, talking so fast that I wasn't making any sense. Father did my best to calm me down, and mother brought me a glass of water. After a few minutes, I tried to explain what I just saw, but neither believed me. I wouldn't give up, but still, they wouldn't hear it, telling me it was just a nightmare. Finally, I grabbed father by the hand and dragged him downstairs and out to the backyard. It all happened so fast. He opened the gate to the alley, took a couple steps, then a deafening bang cracked through the silent night, and father collapsed in a heap. I scream, and cried, and fell over the unmoving mass, now lying in a sticky pool of it's own blood.
We found out later that the stranger was actually the neighbor, waiting for the "unknown suitor" of his wife's to come back after he shot out at him earlier in the evening. Being the nervous man that he was, he shot at the first person to enter the alley.
Another senseless killing.
Trapped in a Cage
Original Suggestion: Puppies in Space
Suggested by: Kevin Pitts (@kevinmpitts)
It was a beautiful Thursday morning. Bright blue skies, no wind, perfect temperature. Ideal conditions for one of the last shuttle missions in the history of NASA. This particular launch, however, remained fairly secret. The reason? The controversy.
With the fear of backlash brought upon by PETA, NASA kept this particular mission under wraps, as they would be sending animals into space to test the effects that the new space station, and all of it's tremendous scientific advancements, would have on animals. Dogs, to be more specific. Despite all of the other missions they had done involving animals, this mission remained vital to NASA's research, as the believed dogs would help humans with various tasks in space, just as they don on solid ground. But, the question remained: will the dogs be safe on their trip? And how will they react to their new environment once they reached their destination?
So the mission was set, the subjects chosen and ready to go. For obvious reasons, the dogs will be joined by two men to take care of them while they were in route. They would also be observing the dogs' behavior while on board the station.
The men strapped the dogs in, ready for their month long endeavor into the depths of the final frontier. They set themselves at the helm of the ship, readying themselves for lift off.
"You ready, Jonathan?"
"As ready as ever, Pete."
"Houston," said Pete. "All systems, check. The subjects are set, let's get this started already."
"Roger. Prepare for launch. Initiating launch sequence."
10...9...8...7...6...5...
Pete and Jonathan gave one last look to each other. Neither were happy about their mission. But as important as it was, they took it as seriously (in appearance, at least) as any other.
4...3...2...1. Liftoff!
The rocket burst upward in a glorious cloud of smoke and fire. Higher and higher they rose into the sky, trailing behind them a stream of fumes and rocket parts began to fall away. Traveling higher and higher, the smoke billowing behind them, they finally reached the outer atmosphere. The first part of the mission was a success.
"Houston, everything has gone according to plan," said Pete. "Going to check on the subjects to see how they handled lift-off."
"Roger. Report back when you have the results."
"Take control, Jonathan. I'll go take a look."
"Whatever," said Jonathan.
Pete disengaged his belts to head down to where the dogs were strapped in. As he opened the door, he expected to hear them barking and whining. Instead, he was greeted with a cold silence. He checked each dog noting how they all looked, their breathing, etc.The first two, German Shepherds, seemed fine. The Retriever also seemed healthy. He reached the fourth cage, the Chocolate Labradors, to find the dog hasn't moved since they had strapped her down. He reached in her cage to check her out. To his dismay, she was not breathing. The thrust from the launch, coupled with they dogs system of straps had caused her to panic, and at some point, die. Pete made the necessary notes in his journal, telling what was wrong and how to avoid this end next time.
As he reached the fifth cage, Pete noticed something strange in this dogs eyes. The Rottweiler was staring at him, following his every move. Pete went to reach inside to make sure it was o.k., but the dog barred it's teeth and him and started to growl. Pete hastily backed away, wrote down some information in his journal, and retreated back to Jonathan in the cockpit.
"So, how'd we do so far, Pete?" asked Jonathan.
"The Shepherds and Retriever are fine. The Lab didn't make it. We'll have to put her down in the cold storage to keep her safe until we get back."
"Or we could just launch the bitch out to space," Jonathan said with a sneer.
"You know we can't do that," said Pete. "The vets will do their thing on how and why she passes when we get back."
"Right, whatever. How about the Rottweiler?"
"She seemed o.k.. Scared the hell out of me, though. Just started at me the whole time, and damn near took a bite out of me when I reached in to check on her."
"Probably just scared," said Jonathan. "Just let it be until we get a little farther and we need to feed them."
"Sounds good. I'll get on the horn and report back."
As time went on, Jonathan and Pete both took turns checking in on the dogs, Jonathan a little more reluctantly than Pete, not really caring for the animals as much as Pete did. He generally wasn't much of a dog person, not after having been bitten by his own dog as a child, then having to witness it being put down. Pete, on the other hand, was always fond of any animal. He aspired to be a veterinarian as a child, but found his fascination with outer space to be something better to follow through with.
Neither man found any problems as they checked in and took care of the dogs. They both noted, however, that the Rottweiler always acted the same whenever the entered the room. Never blinking, not eating much, and never letting Pete nor Jonathan linger too long around it's cage. Neither man was able to tell exactly what was wrong with it, and none were willing to find out so not to get a chunk taken out of them by the beast.
It wasn't much longer than that things really started to seem strange. Jonathan and Pete started having communication problems back with NASA, all the dogs started acting like the Rottweiler, and once in a while Pete would notice something was missing from his quarters, but never knowing what it was since it seemed like something different every time he had those feelings.
Jonathan wasn't much help in Pete's suspicions. He only thought about getting to the station and getting these experiments over with. One afternoon, though, Jonathan came running back to the cockpit, both hands covered in blood.
"Dude, another dog is dead. And the Rottweiler was out of his cage somehow. Took everything I could to get it away from that Shepherd. Have you had this problem before?"
"Not at all," said Pete. "I have more bad news though. Something has cut the power again for our communication back home. You think that Rottweiler had something to do with it?"
"It's very possible," said Jonathan. "I saw a lot of exposed wiring in their section of the ship. Too much damage to know what is out though."
"We need to go in there and find out," Pete said, a note of hesitation in his voice. "There's no fixing it if you don't go."
"Fine, but I'm taking something with me just in case."
Pete and Jonathan started making their way to where the dogs were kept. Once they reached the door, though, they could hear one of the dogs whining more than usual. As they reached to open the door, they heard a crunch, a short whine, and then silence.
They both wretched the door open. There was nothing inside. The dogs were all missing, there was more exposed wiring and the vent leading out of the room was ripped off of the wall. As they looked around, they noticed a few drops of blood around the Shepherds cage, leading away towards the vent.
"How could they get up there?" asked Jonathan. "That's gotta be a good five or six feet off the ground."
"I don't know," said Pete." Wait... listen."
As they got closer to the vent, they could hear a faint clicking, like a dogs claw on a hard floor.
"Is that... where does this vent head towards?" asked Pete.
"It sounds like it was heading toward the sleeping quarters," said Jonathan.
"C'mon. Let's check it out."
They left the dogs room, when suddenly the lights in the ship went out. From behind them, they heard a low, mean, growl.
Pete and Jonathan had no idea what to do. They stood there, frozen. It wasn't until Pete heard the thud of Jonathan hitting the floor did he gather his senses, and started running. He ran down the hall, and threw himself into a room off to the left. He hated having left Jonathan behind, but there was nothing he could do. He found himself in the sleeping quarters. Not sure where to go from here, he barricaded himself inside, and began pacing the room, feeling like a trapped animal.
He stopped. He could hear the growling from the hall, becoming louder, and louder, until it was right outside the room. This was it, no where to go. Suddenly, Pete felt something around his ankles, he searched around to find the Rottweiler, pining for his attention, as if something scared it to hiding in this room. How it got in here, Pete had no idea. All he could think of was if the Rottweiler was in here... what was outside the room?
He continued to search the room, until he found another gruesome sight. The second Shepherd, or what was left of it, was found underneath one of the bunks. Now Pete was really freaked out. What else was on the ship? Nothing got in that he could think of. The room started to grow colder. The Rottweiler staying at Pete's side the whole time...
A year later, a fisherman was sailing off the coast of Cocoa Beach, Florida, when he spotted something in the night sky, heading towards the water. With a splash, the ship hit the water, sending a giant wave toward the coast, and nearly capsizing the the boat. He immediately radioed the Coast Guard, telling him what he just witnessed. Hours later, they searched the lost ship from that failed mission. It was completely void of any signs of the crew, or the animals.
Suggested by: Kevin Pitts (@kevinmpitts)
It was a beautiful Thursday morning. Bright blue skies, no wind, perfect temperature. Ideal conditions for one of the last shuttle missions in the history of NASA. This particular launch, however, remained fairly secret. The reason? The controversy.
With the fear of backlash brought upon by PETA, NASA kept this particular mission under wraps, as they would be sending animals into space to test the effects that the new space station, and all of it's tremendous scientific advancements, would have on animals. Dogs, to be more specific. Despite all of the other missions they had done involving animals, this mission remained vital to NASA's research, as the believed dogs would help humans with various tasks in space, just as they don on solid ground. But, the question remained: will the dogs be safe on their trip? And how will they react to their new environment once they reached their destination?
So the mission was set, the subjects chosen and ready to go. For obvious reasons, the dogs will be joined by two men to take care of them while they were in route. They would also be observing the dogs' behavior while on board the station.
The men strapped the dogs in, ready for their month long endeavor into the depths of the final frontier. They set themselves at the helm of the ship, readying themselves for lift off.
"You ready, Jonathan?"
"As ready as ever, Pete."
"Houston," said Pete. "All systems, check. The subjects are set, let's get this started already."
"Roger. Prepare for launch. Initiating launch sequence."
10...9...8...7...6...5...
Pete and Jonathan gave one last look to each other. Neither were happy about their mission. But as important as it was, they took it as seriously (in appearance, at least) as any other.
4...3...2...1. Liftoff!
The rocket burst upward in a glorious cloud of smoke and fire. Higher and higher they rose into the sky, trailing behind them a stream of fumes and rocket parts began to fall away. Traveling higher and higher, the smoke billowing behind them, they finally reached the outer atmosphere. The first part of the mission was a success.
"Houston, everything has gone according to plan," said Pete. "Going to check on the subjects to see how they handled lift-off."
"Roger. Report back when you have the results."
"Take control, Jonathan. I'll go take a look."
"Whatever," said Jonathan.
Pete disengaged his belts to head down to where the dogs were strapped in. As he opened the door, he expected to hear them barking and whining. Instead, he was greeted with a cold silence. He checked each dog noting how they all looked, their breathing, etc.The first two, German Shepherds, seemed fine. The Retriever also seemed healthy. He reached the fourth cage, the Chocolate Labradors, to find the dog hasn't moved since they had strapped her down. He reached in her cage to check her out. To his dismay, she was not breathing. The thrust from the launch, coupled with they dogs system of straps had caused her to panic, and at some point, die. Pete made the necessary notes in his journal, telling what was wrong and how to avoid this end next time.
As he reached the fifth cage, Pete noticed something strange in this dogs eyes. The Rottweiler was staring at him, following his every move. Pete went to reach inside to make sure it was o.k., but the dog barred it's teeth and him and started to growl. Pete hastily backed away, wrote down some information in his journal, and retreated back to Jonathan in the cockpit.
"So, how'd we do so far, Pete?" asked Jonathan.
"The Shepherds and Retriever are fine. The Lab didn't make it. We'll have to put her down in the cold storage to keep her safe until we get back."
"Or we could just launch the bitch out to space," Jonathan said with a sneer.
"You know we can't do that," said Pete. "The vets will do their thing on how and why she passes when we get back."
"Right, whatever. How about the Rottweiler?"
"She seemed o.k.. Scared the hell out of me, though. Just started at me the whole time, and damn near took a bite out of me when I reached in to check on her."
"Probably just scared," said Jonathan. "Just let it be until we get a little farther and we need to feed them."
"Sounds good. I'll get on the horn and report back."
As time went on, Jonathan and Pete both took turns checking in on the dogs, Jonathan a little more reluctantly than Pete, not really caring for the animals as much as Pete did. He generally wasn't much of a dog person, not after having been bitten by his own dog as a child, then having to witness it being put down. Pete, on the other hand, was always fond of any animal. He aspired to be a veterinarian as a child, but found his fascination with outer space to be something better to follow through with.
Neither man found any problems as they checked in and took care of the dogs. They both noted, however, that the Rottweiler always acted the same whenever the entered the room. Never blinking, not eating much, and never letting Pete nor Jonathan linger too long around it's cage. Neither man was able to tell exactly what was wrong with it, and none were willing to find out so not to get a chunk taken out of them by the beast.
It wasn't much longer than that things really started to seem strange. Jonathan and Pete started having communication problems back with NASA, all the dogs started acting like the Rottweiler, and once in a while Pete would notice something was missing from his quarters, but never knowing what it was since it seemed like something different every time he had those feelings.
Jonathan wasn't much help in Pete's suspicions. He only thought about getting to the station and getting these experiments over with. One afternoon, though, Jonathan came running back to the cockpit, both hands covered in blood.
"Dude, another dog is dead. And the Rottweiler was out of his cage somehow. Took everything I could to get it away from that Shepherd. Have you had this problem before?"
"Not at all," said Pete. "I have more bad news though. Something has cut the power again for our communication back home. You think that Rottweiler had something to do with it?"
"It's very possible," said Jonathan. "I saw a lot of exposed wiring in their section of the ship. Too much damage to know what is out though."
"We need to go in there and find out," Pete said, a note of hesitation in his voice. "There's no fixing it if you don't go."
"Fine, but I'm taking something with me just in case."
Pete and Jonathan started making their way to where the dogs were kept. Once they reached the door, though, they could hear one of the dogs whining more than usual. As they reached to open the door, they heard a crunch, a short whine, and then silence.
They both wretched the door open. There was nothing inside. The dogs were all missing, there was more exposed wiring and the vent leading out of the room was ripped off of the wall. As they looked around, they noticed a few drops of blood around the Shepherds cage, leading away towards the vent.
"How could they get up there?" asked Jonathan. "That's gotta be a good five or six feet off the ground."
"I don't know," said Pete." Wait... listen."
As they got closer to the vent, they could hear a faint clicking, like a dogs claw on a hard floor.
"Is that... where does this vent head towards?" asked Pete.
"It sounds like it was heading toward the sleeping quarters," said Jonathan.
"C'mon. Let's check it out."
They left the dogs room, when suddenly the lights in the ship went out. From behind them, they heard a low, mean, growl.
Pete and Jonathan had no idea what to do. They stood there, frozen. It wasn't until Pete heard the thud of Jonathan hitting the floor did he gather his senses, and started running. He ran down the hall, and threw himself into a room off to the left. He hated having left Jonathan behind, but there was nothing he could do. He found himself in the sleeping quarters. Not sure where to go from here, he barricaded himself inside, and began pacing the room, feeling like a trapped animal.
He stopped. He could hear the growling from the hall, becoming louder, and louder, until it was right outside the room. This was it, no where to go. Suddenly, Pete felt something around his ankles, he searched around to find the Rottweiler, pining for his attention, as if something scared it to hiding in this room. How it got in here, Pete had no idea. All he could think of was if the Rottweiler was in here... what was outside the room?
He continued to search the room, until he found another gruesome sight. The second Shepherd, or what was left of it, was found underneath one of the bunks. Now Pete was really freaked out. What else was on the ship? Nothing got in that he could think of. The room started to grow colder. The Rottweiler staying at Pete's side the whole time...
A year later, a fisherman was sailing off the coast of Cocoa Beach, Florida, when he spotted something in the night sky, heading towards the water. With a splash, the ship hit the water, sending a giant wave toward the coast, and nearly capsizing the the boat. He immediately radioed the Coast Guard, telling him what he just witnessed. Hours later, they searched the lost ship from that failed mission. It was completely void of any signs of the crew, or the animals.
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