Post by zemira on Mar 4, 2008 13:04:49 GMT -5
Just a random short story. I wrote it very quickly. It turned out ok, I guess. Some things, I'm just not good at writing. But overall, I think my idea came through fine. Eh, we'll see, lol.
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Summer Knight
The controller in my hand vibrated in response to the shower of bullets and shrapnel that was pelting me. I fought to keep my grip and to escape the onslaught. Finally, my character was able to move out of the way and find cover. Unfortunately, an enemy must have come up behind me because suddenly I was shot in the back and the screen went red with the words “Game Over” scrolling by.
My name is Joel. I like video games, but this one has been a thorn in my side. I keep getting killed in that one level. I can’t figure out why. I cursed the game slightly then went to my room. It was time for the exciting world of homework. I worked on a few assignments, but I just didn’t really care. I flopped down on my bed, starting at the posters I plastered on my ceiling. Cyclops, Superman, and Spiderman all stared down at me. I’m a comic book buff, but I only like the superhero comics. The classics, you know? My parents don’t really like that I still read them, since I am a little old for them now. I don’t really care if I’m too old. I consider them to be literary treasures just like some people think Shakespeare is. It’s not my fault Shakespeare’s books weren’t illustrated and Spawn was.
Maybe I do rely on comics a little bit to help me cope at times. Maybe I wish the world was like it is in the comics. When I was a kid, I wanted to be a superhero. I tried to make a cape from a sheet, but I kept tripping on it. I tried to fashion a uniform, but my clothes weren’t colorful or tight enough. So I pretended to be a plainclothes superhero. I called myself “The Mighty Duelist”. I thought it was clever at the time. My specialty was duels, like history had. Early morning, 10 paces, turn and shoot. Of course, I could only have a water pistol and my aim was horrible. Still, my mom indulged me and let me water the houseplants that way. Now, I know that superheroes aren’t real, but I still wish that maybe they could be. I at least wish that some people out there could be like them. They don’t need powers. They just need a good heart. They should want to help people who are in danger, just to be a nice person. They wouldn’t do it for the adoration or money or fame. They would just help others for the sake of helping others. Pretty sentimental, I know. It’s the one thing I constantly wish for in any circumstance.
My daydreaming was interrupted by my mother calling me. My dad died a long time ago. He was mugged and killed one night. No real reason. Just because he looked like he might have some cash. They caught the guy who killed him, and he was locked up in jail. It’s supposed to make you feel better, knowing that your father’s killer is behind bars. I don’t feel any better. I’d feel better if the killer just hadn’t done anything that night. If he just stayed home and fell asleep watching television or something.
I wandered to the kitchen where my mom was. We don’t have a big house. It’s only one floor. My mom doesn’t have the best job, but she tries to pay for what we need. Still, we live in a small house on the outskirts of the bad part of town. Our neighborhood is patrolled well and there’s rarely crime here, but some parents don’t let their children out at night. My mom isn’t one of them. She handed me some bills to go buy some bread from the local store. It was close enough to walk to, and the summer night was bright with a full moon and stars glimmering. I walked to the store and just thought the whole way. It was a great night. When I was younger, I used to lie on our front lawn on nights like this and watch the sky for a shadow of something flying. A person, jet, or anything. Just something to prove the superheroes I loved were real. Now I just like to stare at the night sky and enjoy it for what it is. I don’t really care about astronomy or astrology, but I like to just watch the moon and stars sometimes. I walked to the store with my eyes mostly up, facing the sky. It’s amazing I didn’t walk into something, but I made it to the store just fine. I bought the bread and a soda for myself. I paid for the stuff and left. I walked towards home, but then I heard this sound. A thump, like something soft hit the ground. I sneaked towards the sound, and found an alley hidden from the main road. In the alley was a man with a knife, holding up a woman. Her purse had fallen, which caused the thump I heard. He was now shuffling through her purse, looking for something to steal. My mind was racing. This woman felt how my father must have felt. The same thoughts must have been going through their mind. I glanced nervously around. There was no one out on the street. It was just me, the crook and the woman. Neither of them had seen me yet and my mind kept spewing out impossible ideas. My common sense told me to run. My heart told me to help. My inner child screamed for the help of someone to save us. My eyes didn’t blink for several minutes, just watching the scene. The criminal obviously wasn’t experienced very much as most of his attention was in the purse, still hunting for something of value. The woman still looked terrified. The knife blade gleamed in moonlight. It wasn’t very big. It looked like a basic Swiss army knife. The criminal had brought it mostly for shock value, it seemed. My heart was still thudding in my chest as my course of action was debated. Run! my mind screamed at me. Fight! my courage yelled. Still, I didn’t move to do either. I was completely torn. Fight and probably die or run and let the woman be robbed. A headache sprang up, with totally inappropriate timing. My body was tensed up. I felt like a rubber band. I’d either have to release the pressure or I’d snap. Without meaning to, my hands had slipped down towards my pockets. Within my pockets was a knife of my own. I kept it for protection, just in case. My eyes sized up the criminal. He was bigger than me, but not very careful or smart. He was nervous, and nervous people made mistakes. Of course, I was nervous too, but I had the element of surprise. I could jump out and startle him. Hopefully, he’d be too scared to care about robbing the woman anymore and he’d run. I could return her purse and just stroll home, like nothing had happened.
The fantasy filled my head with several possible endings appearing. Suddenly, fighting seemed like the better option. However, I still had sense and I knew that the really smart thing would be to run. Most likely, this woman would be fine. The crook wouldn’t harm her. She might lose a purse, but she wouldn’t be hurt. My fantasy faltered by the logic. Then, suddenly, I jumped out of the shadows towards the woman and the man. I didn’t remember giving my body the signal to move but it was too late now. My own knife was out and I faced the man. The woman whimpered slightly, obviously thinking I was going to kill her now. I didn’t have time to comfort her. The thief had jumped slightly, spilling some of the contents of the purse on the ground. His eyes, however, were focused on me. He wasn’t backing down. Maybe he wasn’t a thief, but he didn’t like to be challenged. Suddenly, I was in a fight that was stacked against me. Still, my brain was concocting images of victory and bravery. I would win. I would beat him, and do some good for the neighborhood. I shifted my feet slightly to get a better grip on the ground. I lunged forward without hesitation. He was surprised by my move and jumped back then attacked with a move of his own. I dodged, but just barely. I wasn’t thinking at all anymore. I was running entirely on instinct. We parried and thrust and dodged like two professional fencers. Neither of us could touch the other. In the confusion, the woman had grabbed her purse and run. Obviously, she was smarter than I had been. Suddenly… yes! I felt the knife slid easily into flesh. I had cut him! The battle was turning. My dueling alter ego appeared in my mind. Maybe I really can be a superhero, I thought giddily. Still, my instinct was fighting for me, while my mind worked feverishly to show images of myself as a hero. No stupid costume, but still a hero to everyone. Once again I felt the knife strike. I slashed more, losing any finesse, just eager to finish the fight.
I blinked, and the fight was over. The crook was gone. His unconscious body had vanished, as they sometimes do. I saw the lights of the police drive up and praise me for defeating him. They put me in their car, chattering away on their radios.
I blinked again, ecstatic with the results of the fight. Something wasn’t right though. I wasn’t sitting in the car. Somehow, I was laying flat on my back. My brain was foggy, still trying to finish the fantasy. I turned my head to look around. Sudden pain! I looked down and saw blood. The criminal had bled on me? Had I really cut him that badly? No, no, I couldn’t have. It was my blood, I realized. I was in an ambulance. Slowly I pieced the rest together. He had stabbed me several times, without me touching him. My adrenaline had stopped me from noticing the pain, but it had confused me. I had fallen to the ground, and was unconscious for a few moments, which was why he was gone when I opened my eyes. The flashing lights had been the ambulance. I had no idea who had called them. Now I was safe, though. They’d fix my wounds and maybe I wouldn’t be a real hero, but at least I had tried. I smiled and felt fatigue take over. I fell asleep in the back of the ambulance.
I never woke up again.
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Summer Knight
The controller in my hand vibrated in response to the shower of bullets and shrapnel that was pelting me. I fought to keep my grip and to escape the onslaught. Finally, my character was able to move out of the way and find cover. Unfortunately, an enemy must have come up behind me because suddenly I was shot in the back and the screen went red with the words “Game Over” scrolling by.
My name is Joel. I like video games, but this one has been a thorn in my side. I keep getting killed in that one level. I can’t figure out why. I cursed the game slightly then went to my room. It was time for the exciting world of homework. I worked on a few assignments, but I just didn’t really care. I flopped down on my bed, starting at the posters I plastered on my ceiling. Cyclops, Superman, and Spiderman all stared down at me. I’m a comic book buff, but I only like the superhero comics. The classics, you know? My parents don’t really like that I still read them, since I am a little old for them now. I don’t really care if I’m too old. I consider them to be literary treasures just like some people think Shakespeare is. It’s not my fault Shakespeare’s books weren’t illustrated and Spawn was.
Maybe I do rely on comics a little bit to help me cope at times. Maybe I wish the world was like it is in the comics. When I was a kid, I wanted to be a superhero. I tried to make a cape from a sheet, but I kept tripping on it. I tried to fashion a uniform, but my clothes weren’t colorful or tight enough. So I pretended to be a plainclothes superhero. I called myself “The Mighty Duelist”. I thought it was clever at the time. My specialty was duels, like history had. Early morning, 10 paces, turn and shoot. Of course, I could only have a water pistol and my aim was horrible. Still, my mom indulged me and let me water the houseplants that way. Now, I know that superheroes aren’t real, but I still wish that maybe they could be. I at least wish that some people out there could be like them. They don’t need powers. They just need a good heart. They should want to help people who are in danger, just to be a nice person. They wouldn’t do it for the adoration or money or fame. They would just help others for the sake of helping others. Pretty sentimental, I know. It’s the one thing I constantly wish for in any circumstance.
My daydreaming was interrupted by my mother calling me. My dad died a long time ago. He was mugged and killed one night. No real reason. Just because he looked like he might have some cash. They caught the guy who killed him, and he was locked up in jail. It’s supposed to make you feel better, knowing that your father’s killer is behind bars. I don’t feel any better. I’d feel better if the killer just hadn’t done anything that night. If he just stayed home and fell asleep watching television or something.
I wandered to the kitchen where my mom was. We don’t have a big house. It’s only one floor. My mom doesn’t have the best job, but she tries to pay for what we need. Still, we live in a small house on the outskirts of the bad part of town. Our neighborhood is patrolled well and there’s rarely crime here, but some parents don’t let their children out at night. My mom isn’t one of them. She handed me some bills to go buy some bread from the local store. It was close enough to walk to, and the summer night was bright with a full moon and stars glimmering. I walked to the store and just thought the whole way. It was a great night. When I was younger, I used to lie on our front lawn on nights like this and watch the sky for a shadow of something flying. A person, jet, or anything. Just something to prove the superheroes I loved were real. Now I just like to stare at the night sky and enjoy it for what it is. I don’t really care about astronomy or astrology, but I like to just watch the moon and stars sometimes. I walked to the store with my eyes mostly up, facing the sky. It’s amazing I didn’t walk into something, but I made it to the store just fine. I bought the bread and a soda for myself. I paid for the stuff and left. I walked towards home, but then I heard this sound. A thump, like something soft hit the ground. I sneaked towards the sound, and found an alley hidden from the main road. In the alley was a man with a knife, holding up a woman. Her purse had fallen, which caused the thump I heard. He was now shuffling through her purse, looking for something to steal. My mind was racing. This woman felt how my father must have felt. The same thoughts must have been going through their mind. I glanced nervously around. There was no one out on the street. It was just me, the crook and the woman. Neither of them had seen me yet and my mind kept spewing out impossible ideas. My common sense told me to run. My heart told me to help. My inner child screamed for the help of someone to save us. My eyes didn’t blink for several minutes, just watching the scene. The criminal obviously wasn’t experienced very much as most of his attention was in the purse, still hunting for something of value. The woman still looked terrified. The knife blade gleamed in moonlight. It wasn’t very big. It looked like a basic Swiss army knife. The criminal had brought it mostly for shock value, it seemed. My heart was still thudding in my chest as my course of action was debated. Run! my mind screamed at me. Fight! my courage yelled. Still, I didn’t move to do either. I was completely torn. Fight and probably die or run and let the woman be robbed. A headache sprang up, with totally inappropriate timing. My body was tensed up. I felt like a rubber band. I’d either have to release the pressure or I’d snap. Without meaning to, my hands had slipped down towards my pockets. Within my pockets was a knife of my own. I kept it for protection, just in case. My eyes sized up the criminal. He was bigger than me, but not very careful or smart. He was nervous, and nervous people made mistakes. Of course, I was nervous too, but I had the element of surprise. I could jump out and startle him. Hopefully, he’d be too scared to care about robbing the woman anymore and he’d run. I could return her purse and just stroll home, like nothing had happened.
The fantasy filled my head with several possible endings appearing. Suddenly, fighting seemed like the better option. However, I still had sense and I knew that the really smart thing would be to run. Most likely, this woman would be fine. The crook wouldn’t harm her. She might lose a purse, but she wouldn’t be hurt. My fantasy faltered by the logic. Then, suddenly, I jumped out of the shadows towards the woman and the man. I didn’t remember giving my body the signal to move but it was too late now. My own knife was out and I faced the man. The woman whimpered slightly, obviously thinking I was going to kill her now. I didn’t have time to comfort her. The thief had jumped slightly, spilling some of the contents of the purse on the ground. His eyes, however, were focused on me. He wasn’t backing down. Maybe he wasn’t a thief, but he didn’t like to be challenged. Suddenly, I was in a fight that was stacked against me. Still, my brain was concocting images of victory and bravery. I would win. I would beat him, and do some good for the neighborhood. I shifted my feet slightly to get a better grip on the ground. I lunged forward without hesitation. He was surprised by my move and jumped back then attacked with a move of his own. I dodged, but just barely. I wasn’t thinking at all anymore. I was running entirely on instinct. We parried and thrust and dodged like two professional fencers. Neither of us could touch the other. In the confusion, the woman had grabbed her purse and run. Obviously, she was smarter than I had been. Suddenly… yes! I felt the knife slid easily into flesh. I had cut him! The battle was turning. My dueling alter ego appeared in my mind. Maybe I really can be a superhero, I thought giddily. Still, my instinct was fighting for me, while my mind worked feverishly to show images of myself as a hero. No stupid costume, but still a hero to everyone. Once again I felt the knife strike. I slashed more, losing any finesse, just eager to finish the fight.
I blinked, and the fight was over. The crook was gone. His unconscious body had vanished, as they sometimes do. I saw the lights of the police drive up and praise me for defeating him. They put me in their car, chattering away on their radios.
I blinked again, ecstatic with the results of the fight. Something wasn’t right though. I wasn’t sitting in the car. Somehow, I was laying flat on my back. My brain was foggy, still trying to finish the fantasy. I turned my head to look around. Sudden pain! I looked down and saw blood. The criminal had bled on me? Had I really cut him that badly? No, no, I couldn’t have. It was my blood, I realized. I was in an ambulance. Slowly I pieced the rest together. He had stabbed me several times, without me touching him. My adrenaline had stopped me from noticing the pain, but it had confused me. I had fallen to the ground, and was unconscious for a few moments, which was why he was gone when I opened my eyes. The flashing lights had been the ambulance. I had no idea who had called them. Now I was safe, though. They’d fix my wounds and maybe I wouldn’t be a real hero, but at least I had tried. I smiled and felt fatigue take over. I fell asleep in the back of the ambulance.
I never woke up again.