Pebble Story/Monologue Collection

a pebble

Strategos
Hi all. I've been writing this for some time now. I decided to put it here first as a test run before I put it anywhere more public :)

Feel free to tell me what you think, good or bad. I won't be offended. I will be offended, however if you don't tell me the truth and I release this under a false pretense so be honest! :p

Although I do want the truth, please give it kindly, with suggestions on what you'd like changed (longer, shorter, spelling, idk....etc etc)

Revised Edition:

The Pursuit of Misery

Hey all. It's me again...you remember me? I know you've seen me around town; I'm that guy always staring at the floor, kicking the little pebbles in my path just to entertain myself. I'm the guy you saw lurking in the corner looking for the next someone to ask me how I was doing. I'm the one you hear crying next door. Yeah, you remember me now, right?

Ok, good! I was hoping I was able to be remembered in some way, even though this isn't that preferable. I've heard you chuckle to your friends about how “unsocial” I am. Well, I'd just like to teach you how I grew to become this way.

It started many years ago, long before I met any of you, or any of you knew who I was. Long before life had placed its branding seal of pain on my life. Yes, this is long ago, very long, long ago. Before everything went down, I was just like any other happy and joyous child: clueless of life's cruelties, blind of the hate pointed at competitors, and naïve of life's little tricks and games.

So let’s begin, shall we? Very well:

This all started 18 years ago. I was 14 years old at the time, having strong aspirations to be a Medical Doctor. I would go about my daily life, see my friends at school, shake the teachers' hand and be on my way back home. I even went out with some of my friends after school. We would wander everywhere and anywhere we could or wanted.

I remember this one time. My best friend, Laura, decided to wander out into the forest. She and I had gone into the forest before, but we had always stuck to the trail, too fearful to wander off of its distinct pathway. That changed when we tested the waters on that late August evening.

As the path headed left Laura had her wry smile on and slyly said, “Hey, let’s head out to the lake.”

I replied, “But, that takes us off the path, what if we can't find our way back?”

“Oh stop worryin'. Where's your spirit of Adventure!? We'll be just fine, I promise,” argued Laura.

So I believed her, in all my naivety. I told her I'd go. I agreed to get off the path and follow into the dark forest…the chilled, dark, ominous August forest.

Ten minutes in, I found I was enjoying myself very much, and it appeared she was enjoying herself the same. After over an hour of this: climbing rocks, jumping streams, scaling trees, and crawling over what some may consider small mountains, we finally made it to the lake. Once we arrived we stripped down into our underwear and hopped in. We swam and played for countless hours, until we heard someone off in the distance.

There were houses back in the woods, of course, but we were scrawny 14 year old kids. Any sound when you are alone is scary as a kid. We scurried out of the water as fast as possible, just like a mouse hiding from a cat. We both hid behind a rock next to the lake, occasionally peeking out like a boy peeping into a room he's been shut out of.

Oh we were curious alright, and just as this climax came to an end, the sound we had heard peered around the rock. Laura and I both shrieked in exact synchronization, and soon a deep calmness came over us.

“Son! I've been searching for you for hours! You had your mother and I worried sick, and here you are half-naked with a girl in the forest lake? How inconsiderate can you possibly be?!” exclaimed my father.

In an effort to rationalize my actions and nerf the situation I relied, “Dad, I was only having a little fun with my frien-”...

He would hear none of it. He said we would wait for Laura's parents to make it and we would head off. They arrived in a half hour and I was forced to give an un-felt and unjustified apology. My father and I then headed off. He grabbed me by the back of the neck and dragged me back to the house.

*****

When we got back home, my mother was on the porch waiting. You could see her eyes were red from extensive crying and worrying. I couldn't bear to look at her face; all it did was cause an unending pit in my stomach. She ran and hugged me, quickly followed by a smack to the face. I took it like a man would, no tears shed...not a single drop.

She told me, “I will always love you. There is absolutely nothing that can change that.”

I was sent to my room, forbidden to come out except for school. I was taken off the buses, and my mother decided to take time off her job to pick me up daily, to make SURE I was going straight back home.

My father every night told me, “Son, never go into the deep forests. It is dangerous, both by the elements and by the people.”

I simply told him I understood and shrugged off his advice and headed to bed. At night I would tell myself how unreasonable they are being. How cruel these people are. I would repeatedly say that I hated them, making sure it wasn't in their earshot. I didn't mean any of it, but every teenager mistakes petty anger for hate.

This went on for two months, with one more month in the punishment.

*****

I was curled up in bed, trying to cure my boredom with sleep. It was working, until I heard this tapping sound, then a cracking sound. It was Laura throwing rocks at my window. At first I tried to ignore her, pretend I couldn't hear it. That proved ineffective after the next 10 minutes of repeated taps and cracks.

I got up, and lifted the window. Unlucky as I could be, a rock hit me square in the forehead. Laura was unable to contain her laughter. We were both in tears, her from laughing and I for getting pelted with rocks.

I asked her what she wanted and she only gave a blank stare, as if she expected me to already know. I told her I had no idea what I was supposed to do, and she just sighed and gave a darting look toward the forest. She wanted to go back.
Hesitatingly, I decided I would go. I told her to come back the next night and I would be ready. So she left, and I walked back to my bed and got snug in the covers and fell asleep.

At 9:00 A.M my mother came into the room and woke me up. She said she needed me to help clean the kitchen. Still tired from the interaction I had with Laura, I slowly crawled out of bed and began to help clean. As I cleaned off the eggs my mother had made earlier for her breakfast, I stumbled and dropped the pan.

My mother screamed when the pot clashed on the floor, then proceeded to ask if I was ok. I nodded, and started back to my cleaning.

“So, how did you sleep son?” my mother asked.

“Fine, I guess...I'm still a bit tired.”

“I was thinking, y'know, about your punishment. I know I said two months, but I decided to let you off a month early because you have behaved so well the recent weeks.”

This struck me near speechless. All I could do was give a shaky “Thanks” to my mother, then continue on with cleaning in silence.

*****

With my new freedom, I decided to head out to see a new movie with my friend Jeremy. I had wanted to see the movie for months, and was depressed that I was going to be grounded while it was out. Now that I could go, I jumped at the opportunity.

When we arrived at the theatre, Jeremy and I ran into Laura. She was going to see some chic-flick with one of her friends, as usual. As we passed her by, she nudged me and asked if we were still on for the night. I nodded back, and she gave a flirting wink back at me and held her hand up like a 'W'. Jeremy wouldn't let it go for the rest of the day. It was quite the irritant.

*****

Now near midnight, I stood by my window watching for Laura. An hour passed. Nothing. Another hour. Not a sound. Now another hour making 3 in the morning, still nothing. Finally, about 20 minutes later she arrived.

I quickly, yet silently, tip-toed through the house and out the back door and began circling toward Laura.

I asked her what took so long, and she just gave me a puzzled look.

“I told you 3 o'clock at the movies. I swear sometimes you are so blind to the most blatant things.” sniped Laura.

“When would you have told me the time? All you did was ask if we were still on, and then winked at me and made a 'W' with your hand.”

“You idiot...why would I make a W? I meant three. Like, one, two, three fingers, for 3 o'clock? Make sense now?” giggling as she explained herself.

Embarrassed, all I could utter is a humble “Oh”.

“Yeah, 'Oh' is right. Now, are we goin' or not?”

“Of course we're going. I'm not missing out on this; I've waited all day for this, not to mention waiting the entire month to finally get out again.”

We headed into the direction of the forest. We walked for about an hour, then came to the old lake we were at just slightly over a month ago. We both got into our under-wear and decided to swim. We played for hours on end, and then it finally came to a halt.

There was this loud rustle next to the edge of the lake. It wasn't a bear, no, a bear would have been too large. Wanting to show Laura how brave I was, I darted out of the water to investigate. I walked over to the source of the noise and fumbled through some brush looking for an animal of some sort. Nothing was to be found.

“See Laura, it's nothi-”, just as I began to finish my sentence, a shriek from a Mountain Lion silenced the entire forest. Nothing made a sound. For the next three seconds, the only sound you could hear was that of your heart beating. Faster. And faster. And faster until you knew it could not any more. The darkness was but a small obstacle in my path as compared to what lied ahead.

I darted back to the lake to grab Laura and rush back home. We had left our clothes behind on the rock, and we ran. Oh boy we ran as fast as we could. We made it maybe about halfway to the house when we could hear the Mountain Lion behind us. Chasing us. Shrieking at every chance.

In a desperate attempt to save ourselves, Laura and I climbed up this small tree to hide. We slid out to a branch, and waited to see what would come. Ten minutes passed, and the silence continued.

“I think it may have-”, as I cut her sentence off to keep her silent. I saw it. This huge cat, with fur so elegant. His eyes gleaming in the dark. He was so majestic; it was so glorious and beautiful. But even beauty has danger. It had heard Laura, and began to dart straight toward us.

It clawed at the tree, but its paw seemed hurt so he was unable to climb the tree successfully. He leaped up at the branch we were at, but kept missing by a few feet. We felt we were safe, but the cat persisted. He jumped and jumped, and would never stop. Then, in one jump he scraped the branch in between where Laura and I sat. The branch snapped and she began to fall.

I grabbed her hand, her screaming as loud as any has ever screamed. Blood curdled at the very sound of it. She knew death was right at the door. The branch had cut my arms deep into them, blood gushed out from it, but my pain was nothing compared to what Laura experienced.

The lion continued to claw at her. Scratching her legs bare. Blood poured from them unceasingly. Tears streamed from her face from the terrible pain. Then one leg. SNAP! It had been broken. But it did not end there. The branch had been weakened by prolonged weight on it. The edge of the branch snapped leaving a jagged edge where I was still holding Laura. It sliced my arm, as if it was even recognizable as such. The muscle was exposed itself, and the bone had very little protection left itself.
My hand, now engorged with blood, had begun to lose its grip. I couldn't pull her up; I was nowhere near strong enough. Her hand slowly slipped from mine, and then...

She fell. The mountain Lion then tore her apart limb from limb, right in front of me. All I could do is scream...horrifically. A body dismemberment, and I had a front row seat of it being my best friend. Her face was beyond recognizable. Her skull had been smashed so much that her hair was blood red.

Her hands were gnawed off, and the flesh around the bone stripped. The worst part of it all, I could hear her screaming while it happened. She screamed for help, and none was there to give. This episode continued on until the lion finally smashed her throat, silencing all sound other than his carnal monstrosity.

All I could to was turn into the tree and cry. For hours upon hours I cried and wept over the loss of my friend.

*****

As the day went on and the sun protruded out above the trees, I could hear the faintest noise calling for Laura. I screamed for their attention, but no reply was issued back from them. I went louder and louder and still NOTHING! Then in the silence, I heard their voice ask, “Who's there”.

“Over here, help please!” I begged for them to hurry as if it would do anything for Laura.

As they arrived they saw me in the tree, and I saw their face. It was Laura's father. He had in his hand a necklace for her, as it was her birthday next week and he would be gone out of town for business.

When I saw him, my body finally had given out. My eyes began to black out, and I could feel myself slipping.

*****

The next morning, I woke up in a hospital bed with an IV in my good arm. My room was empty for the first few minutes, and then a nurse came in and asked what my parent's names were. I told them, and the nurse said they would work on contacting them.

I begged her not to, but the nurse insisted that the hospital is obligated to contact the parents if they patient in question is a minor, which I was at the time.

In an hour the nurse comes back in saying they got in contact with my parents and they would be here momentarily.

Sure enough, 20 minutes later my mother came in with tears streaming, and my father with eyes watering to the brim. They thanked “god” that I was alright...they said they were glad I was safe...but if only they knew what I had seen, what I had gone through. The last thing I was, was alright or safe. I had killed my very own best friend.

It was my fault, was it not? Had I said no to going to the forest, she would not have died. If I had not gotten in the lake, she would still be here. Had I not wanted to impress her by finding the source of the noise, she'd still be breathing. Had I been strong enough to pull her back up, she would be laughing beside me now. Had I not let her blood stained hand go, she would not have suffered at the claws of that beast. It is my fault alone! I am to blame, am I not? Tell me where I am wrong! TELL ME!

*****

Two years later, I was still harboring this guilt and blame in my heart, I heard her screams every night when I tried to sleep. I saw the claws of the mountain lion scrape at her leg, and I could see my hand slip and let her go over and over again. Unending.

The incident had rid me of the life I once had. The friends I knew, slowly left me as my cold shoulder turned them away. My life became the epitome of anti-social. No one was allowed in, not my teachers, not the two remaining friends I had, not even my own mother.

My mother had the worst of it all. Anything she said, whether it be mean or kind, I would discount as the ramblings of a crazed lunatic. She said she loved me, and I would simply remain silent and glare into the nearest corner trying to hold back tears of my knowing that no one could love me.

But time pressed on. My father soon grew restless of all my antics, so one night he left, and I have yet to see him since. My mother mourned at this, but she didn't blame me like my father did. She blamed herself.

The next few months were the worst I have ever had in my lifetime. Every word I said was negative. Anything positive I discounted through logic and reason. I concocted this world view that love could not exist, and that everything was motivated by selfish desire, no matter what the surface reason was.

My mother and I would get into countless arguments. Every day, something new. One time it was about the garbage, another time about religion, and again about chores...it was unceasing.

Then something broke inside of her. As if all that she had lost finally came into view and all it took was just a single push for her to crack. And I was the catalyst.

She turned to me, and looked straight into my eyes as serious as could be and said, “Son, I despise you with all that I am. You are no longer my son, I disown you. Get out of my home.”

Trying to brush it off, “But mom I was only...”

“GET OUT!”

And I left. This was the last thing I ever said to my mother. And those were the last words I heard her say to me. I had harbored such hate and resentment over the death of my friend that I had let it turn away the woman that promised me there was nothing I could do that would make her stop loving me.

*****

Since I was kicked out, I couldn't afford to eat and go to school, so I had to get a part-time job. Without the high-school diploma or funds to get into college, I was never admitted. The years went by, same job same place with very little change. My dream of being a Medical Doctor was but a faded dream of a different life.

My manager hated me, so I never rose from my position at work, but he never fired me because I worked so efficiently. My co-workers didn't speak to me, but rather avoided me in general. It is a lonesome life.

Now I am here today, talking to you. Explaining my life story in some desperate attempt it may teach you something or will simply make myself remembered.

So what is the point of this story? Why bother telling it at all? It can't be anything special, can it? If you are asking this, then you missed the entire point of the story. Bitterness, hate, and guilt were stored inside of me. It was never let go, never forgiven. It changed me. Caused me to grow callous and spiteful toward everyone I see. There's little hope for me now, other than to warn you, do not become me.

This is the pursuit of misery, and I am at its end.

The Pursuit of Misery

Hey all. It's me again...you remember me? I know you've seen me around town, I'm that guy always staring at the floor, kicking the little pebbles in my path just to entertain myself. I'm the guy you saw lurking in the corner looking for the next someone to ask me how I was doing. I'm the one you hear crying next door. Yeah, you remember me now, right?

Ok, good! I was hoping I was able to be remembered in some way, even though this isn't that preferable. I've heard you chuckle to your friends about how “unsocial” I am. Well, I'd just like to teach you how I grew to become this way.

It started many years ago, long before I met any of you, or any of you knew who I was. Long before life had placed its branding seal of pain on my life. Yes, this is long ago, very long, long ago. Before everything went down, I was just like any other happy and joyous child: clueless of life's cruelties, blind of the hate pointed at competitors, and naïve of life's little tricks and games.

So lets begin, shall we? Very well:

This all started 18 years ago. I was 14 years old at the time, having strong aspirations to be a Medical Doctor. I would go about my daily life, see my friends at school, shake the teachers' hand and be on my way back home. I even went out with some of my friends after school. We would wander everywhere and anywhere we could or wanted.

I remember this one time. My best friend, Laura, decided to wander out into the forest. She and I had gone into the forest before, but we had always stuck to the trail, too fearful to wander off of its distinct pathway. That changed when we tested the waters on that late August evening.

As the path headed left Laura had her wry smile on and slyly said, “Hey, lets head out to the lake.”

I replied, “But, that takes us off the path, what if we can't find our way back?”

“Oh stop worryin'. Where's your spirit of Adventure!? We'll be just fine, I promise,” argued Laura.

So I believed her, in all my naivety. I told her I'd go. I agreed to get off the path and follow into the dark forest. The chilled, dark, ominous August forest.

Ten minutes in, I found I was enjoying myself very much, and it appeared she was enjoying herself the same. After over an hour of this climbing rocks, jumping streams, scaling trees, and crawling over what some may consider small mountains, we finally made it to the lake. Once we arrived we stripped down into our underwear and hopped in. We swam and played for countless hours, until we heard someone off in the distance.

There were houses back in the woods, of course, but we were scrawny 14 year old kids. Any sound when you are alone is scary as a kid. We scurried out of the water as fast as possible, just like a mouse hiding from a cat. We both hid behind a rock next to the lake, occasionally peeking out like a boy peeping into a room he's been shut out of.

Oh we were curious alright, and just as this climax came to an end, the sound we had heard peered around the rock. Laura and I both shrieked in exact synchronization, and soon a deep calmness came over us.

“Son! I've been searching for you for hours! You had your mother and I worried sick, and here you are half-naked with a girl in the forest lake? How inconsiderate can you possibly be?!”, exclaimed my father.

In an effort to rationalize my actions and nerf the situation I relied, “Dad, I was only having a little fun with my frien-”...

He would hear none of it. He said we would wait for Laura's parents to make it and we would head off. They arrived in a half hour and I was forced to give an un-felt and unjustified apology. My father and I then headed off. He grabbed me by the back of the neck and drug me back to the house.

*****

When we got back home, my mother was on the porch waiting. You could see her eyes were red from extensive crying and worrying. I couldn't bear to look at her face, all it did was cause a unending pit in my stomach. She ran and hugged me, quickly followed by a smack to the face. I took it like a man would, no tears shed...not a single drop.

She told me, “I will always love you. There is absolutely nothing that can change that.”

I was sent to my room, forbidden to come out except for school. I was taken off the buses, and my mother decided to take time off her job to pick me up daily, to make SURE I was going straight back home.

My father every night told me, “Son, never go into the deep forests. It is dangerous, both by the elements and by the people.”

I simply told him I understood and shrugged off his advice and headed to bed. At night I would tell myself how unreasonable they are being. How cruel these people are. I would repeatedly say that I hated them, making sure it wasn't int heir earshot. I didn't mean any of it, but every teenager mistakes petty anger for hate.

This went on for two months, with one more month in the punishment.

*****

I was curled up in bed, trying to cure my boredom with sleep. It was working, until I heard this tapping sound, then a cracking sound. It was Laura throwing rocks at my window. At first I tried to ignore her, pretend I couldn't hear it. That proved ineffective after the next 10 minutes of repeated taps and cracks.

I got up, and lifted the window. Unlucky as I could be, a rock hit me square in the forehead. Laura was unable to contain her laughter. We were both in tears, her from laughing and I for getting pelted with rocks.

I asked her what she wanted, she only gave a blank stare, as if she expected me to already know. I told her I had no idea what I was supposed to do, and she just sighed and gave a darting look toward the forest. She wanted to go back.
Hesitatingly, I decided I would go. I told her to come back the next night and I would be ready. So she left, and I walked back to my bed and got snug in the covers and fell asleep.

At 9:00 A.M my mother came into the room and woke me up. She said she needed me to help clean the kitchen. Still tired from the interaction I had with Laura, I slowly crawled out of bed and began to help clean. As I cleaned off the eggs my mother had made earlier for her breakfast, I stumbled and dropped the pan.

My mother screamed when the pot clashed on the floor, then proceeded to ask if I was ok. I nodded, and started back to my cleaning.

“So, how did you sleep son?”, my mother asked.

“Fine, I guess...I'm still a bit tired.”

“I was thinking, y'know, about your punishment. I know I said two months, but I decided to let you off a month early because you have behaved so well the recent weeks.”

This struck me near speechless. All I could do was give a shaky “Thanks” to my mother, then continue on with cleaning in silence.

*****

With my new freedom, I decided to head out to see a new movie with my friend Jeremy. I had wanted to see the movie for months, and was depressed that I was going to be grounded while it was out. Now that I could go, I jumped at the oppurtunity.

When we arrived at the theatre, Jeremy and I ran into Laura. She was going to see some chic-flick with one of her friends, as usual. As we passed her by, she nudged me and asked if we were still on for the night. I nodded back, and she gave a flirting wink back at me and held her hand up like a 'W'. Jeremy wouldn't let it go for the rest of the day. It was quite the irritant.

*****

Now near midnight, I stood by my window watching for Laura. An hour passed. Nothing. Another hour. Not a sound. Now another hour making 3 in the morning, still nothing. Finally, about 20 minutes later she arrived.

I quickly, yet silently, tip-toed through the house and out the back door and began circling toward Laura.

I asked her what took so long, and she just gave me a puzzled look.

“I told you 3 o'clock at the movies. I swear sometimes you are so blind to the most blatant things.”, sniped Laura.

“When would you have told me the time? All you did was ask if we were still on, and then winked at me and made a 'W' with your hand.”

“You idiot...why would I make a W? I meant three. Like, one, two, three fingers, for 3 o'clock? Make sense now?”, giggling as she explained herself.

Embarrassed, all I could utter is a humble “Oh”.

“Yeah, 'Oh' is right. Now, are we goin' or not?”

“Of course we're going. I'm not missing out on this, I've waited all day for this, not to mention waiting the entire month to finally get out again.”

We headed into the direction of the forest. We walked for about an hour, then came to the old lake we were at just slightly over a month ago. We both got into our under-wear and decided to swim. We played for hours on end, then it finally came to a halt.

There was this loud rustle next to the edge of the lake. It wasn't a bear, no, a bear would have been too large. Wanting to show Laura how brave I was, I darted out of the water to investigate. I walked over to the source of the noise and fumbled through some brush looking for an animal of some sort. Nothing was to be found.

“See Laura, it's nothi-”, just as I began to finish my sentence, a shriek from a Mountain Lion silenced the entire forest. Nothing made a sound. For the next three seconds, the only sound you coould hear was that of your heart beating. Faster. And faster. And faster until you knew it could not any more. The darkness was but a small obstacle in my path as compared to what lied ahead.

I darted back to the lake to grab Laura and rush back home. We had left our clothes behind on the rock, and we ran. Oh boy we ran as fast as we could. We made it maybe about halfway to the house when we could hear the Mountain Lion behind us. Chasing us. Shrieking at every chance.

In a desperate attempt to save ourselves, Laura and I climbed up this small tree to hide. We slid out to a branch, and waited to see what would come. Ten minutes passed, and the silence continued.

“I think it may have-”, as I cut her sentence off to keep her silent. I saw it. This huge cat, with fur so elegant. His eyes gleaming in the dark. He was so majestic, it was so glorious and beautiful. But even beauty has danger. It had heard Laura, and began to dart straight toward us.

It clawed at the tree, but it's paw seemed hurt so he was unable to climb the tree successfully. He leaped up at the branch we were at, but kept missing by a few feet. We felt we were safe, but the cat persisted. He jumped and jumped, and would never stop. Then, in one jump he scraped the branch in between where Laura and I sat. The branch snapped and she began to fall.

I grabbed her hand, her screaming as loud as any has ever screamed. Blood curdled at the very sound of it. She new death was right at the door. The branch had cut my arms deep into them, blood gushed out from it, but my pain was nothing compared to what Laura experienced.

The lion continued to claw at her. Scratching her legs bare. Blood poured from them unceasingly. Tears streamed from her face from the terrible pain. Then one leg. SNAP! It had been broken. But it did not end there. The branch had been weakened by prolonged weight on it. The edge of the branch snapped leaving a jagged edge where I was still holding Laura. It sliced my arm, as if it was even recognizable as such. The muscle was exposed itself, and the bone had very little protection left itself.
My hand, now engorged with blood, had begun to lose its grip. I couldn't pulled her up, I was no where near strong enough. Her hand slowly slipped from mine, and then...

She fell. The mountain Lion then tore her apart limb from limb, right in front of me. All I could do is scream...horrificly. A body dismemberment, and I had a front row seat of it being my best friend. Her face was beyond recognizable. Her skull had been smashed so much that her hair was blood red.

Her hands were gnawed off, and the flesh around the bone stripped. The worst part of it all, I could hear her screaming while it happened. She screamed for help, and none was there to give. This episode continued on until the lion finally smashed her throat, silencing all sound other than his carnal monstrosity.

All I could to was turn into the tree and cry. For hours upon hours I cried and wept over the loss of my friend.

*****

As the day went on and the sun protruded out above the trees, I could hear the faintest noise calling for Laura. I screamed for their attention, but no reply was issued back from them. I went louder and louder and still NOTHING! Then in the silence, I heard their voice ask, “Who's there”.

“Over here, help please!”, begging for them to hurry as if it would do anything for Laura.

As they arrived they saw me in the tree, and I saw their face. It was Laura's father. He had in his hand a necklace for her, as it was her birthday next week and he would be gone out of town for business.

When I saw him, my body finally had given out. My eyes began to black out, and I could feel myself slipping.

*****

The next morning, I woke up in a hospital bed with an IV in my good arm. My room was empty for the first few minutes, then a nurse came in and asked what y parent's names were. I told them, and the nurse said they would work on contacting them.

I begged her not to,but the nurse insisted that the hospital is obligated to contact the parents if they patient in question is a minor, which I was at the time.

In an hour the nurse comes back in saying they got in contact with my parents and they would be here momentarily.

Sure enough, 20 minutes later my mother came in with tears streaming, and my father with eyes watering to the brim. They thanked “god” that I was alright...thy said they were glad I was safe...but if only they knew what I had seen, what I had gone through. The last thing I was, was alright or safe. I had killed my very own best friend.

It was my fault, was it not? Had I said no to going to the forest, she would not have died. If I had not gotten in the lake, she would still be here. Had I not wanted to impress her by finding the source of the noise, she'd still be breathing. Had I been strong enough to pull her back up, she would be laughing beside me now. Had I not let her blood stained hand go, she would not have suffered at the claws of that beast. It is my fault alone! I am to blame, am I not? Tell me where I am wrong! TELL ME!

*****

Two years later, I was still harboring this guilt and blame in my heart, I heard her screams every night when I tried to sleep. I saw the claws of the mountain lion scrape at her leg, and I could see my hand slip and let her go over and over again. Unending.

The incident had rid me of the life I once had. The friends I knew, slowly left me as my cold shoulder turned them away. My life became the epitome of anti-social. No one was allowed in, not my teachers, not the two remaining friends I had, not even my own mother.

My mother had the worst of it all. Anything she said, whether it be mean or kind, I would discount as the ramblings of a crazed lunatic. She said she loved me, and I would simply remain silent and glare into the nearest corner trying to hold back tears of my knowing that no one could love me.

But time pressed on. My father soon grew restless of all my antics, so one night he left, and I have yet to see him since. My mother mourned at this, but she didn't blame me like my father did. She blamed herself.

The next few months were the worst I have ever had in my lifetime. Every word I said would negative. Anything positive I discounted through logic and reason. I concocted this world view that love could not exist, and that everything was motivated by selfish desire, no matter what the surface reason was.

My mother and I would get into countless arguments. Every day, something new. One time it was about the garbage, another time about religion, and again about chores...it was unceasing.

Then something broke inside of her. As if all that she had lost finally came into view and all it took was just a single push for her to crack. And I was the catalyst.

She turned to me, and looked straight into my eyes as serious as could be and said, “Son, I despise you with all that I am. You are no longer my son, I disown you. Get out of my home.”

Trying to brush it off, “But mom I was only...”

“GET OUT!”

And I left. This was the last thing I ever said to my mother. And those were the last words I heard her say to me. I had harbored such hate and resentment over the death of my friend that I had let it turn away the woman that promised me there was nothing I could do that would make her stop loving me.

*****

Since I was kicked out, I couldn't afford to eat and go to school, so I had to get a part-time job. Without the high-school diploma or funds to get into college, I was never admitted. The years went by, same job same place with very little change. My dream of being a Medical Doctor was but a faded dream of a different life.

My manager hated me, so I never rose from my position at work, but he never fired me because I worked so efficiently. My co-workers didn't speak to me, but rather avoided me in general. It is a lonesome life.

Now I am here today, talking to you. Explaining my life story in some desperate attempt it may teach you something or will simply make myself remembered.

So what is the point of this story? Why bother telling it at all? It can't be anything special, can it? If you are asking this, then you missed the entire point of the story. Bitterness, hate, and guilt was stored inside of me. It was never let go, never forgiven. It changed me. Caused me to grow callous and spiteful toward everyone I see. There's little hope for me now, other than to warn you., do not become me.

This is the pursuit of misery, and I am at its end.
 
Last edited:

Pushty

Guest
This is very, very good!! Your writing abilities are admirable and you have the plot to follow it through.

I think you would benefit from more proof-reading, or getting others to proof-read it in addition. There are some minor mistakes - nothing severe, just things that impact on the fluency to a mild extent. I picked out a few:
- "Drug" isn't the past form of "drag", it's just "dragged".
- "Mountain Lion" - animal names aren't proper nouns, so they don't need to be capitalised.
- "“I told you 3 o'clock at the movies. I swear sometimes you are so blind to the most blatant things.”, sniped Laura." - see the section in bold. With written direct speech, the quote is considered to be the same sentence as the description. This means that the full stop/period is redundant. Also, the comma belongs inside the quote:
"“I told you 3 o'clock at the movies. I swear sometimes you are so blind to the most blatant things,” sniped Laura."

I hope this helps! With a little more thorough editing, you could be unstoppable. :)
 

a pebble

Strategos
This is very, very good!! Your writing abilities are admirable and you have the plot to follow it through.

I think you would benefit from more proof-reading, or getting others to proof-read it in addition. There are some minor mistakes - nothing severe, just things that impact on the fluency to a mild extent. I picked out a few:
- "Drug" isn't the past form of "drag", it's just "dragged".
- "Mountain Lion" - animal names aren't proper nouns, so they don't need to be capitalised.
- "“I told you 3 o'clock at the movies. I swear sometimes you are so blind to the most blatant things.”, sniped Laura." - see the section in bold. With written direct speech, the quote is considered to be the same sentence as the description. This means that the full stop/period is redundant. Also, the comma belongs inside the quote:
"“I told you 3 o'clock at the movies. I swear sometimes you are so blind to the most blatant things,” sniped Laura."

I hope this helps! With a little more thorough editing, you could be unstoppable. :)
lol, thanks for pointing out some of the grammar mistakes :) Ill be sure to go back and edit them out :)

Not proof-reading is part of the problem, the main part is I wrote 75% of it at 3-4 A.M. tonight :p
 

Venomvine The Warped

Guest
I think this is one of the best stories I have ever read. I feel like I am reading one of my favorite books! :D
 

a pebble

Strategos
Ok, I went through and scanned the story for errors. I think I fixed most of them, but I left mountain lion still capitalized because my Find and Replace isn't working atm.
 

a pebble

Strategos
I could...but that's the harder way :p

When I get my main com back I can use Find and Replace to fix it in 2 seconds lol
 

a pebble

Strategos
The long awaited followup to my story the gardener is finally here! The prequel is in two parts, and then there will be a series of sequels (probably around 2-5). This will give the series a total of 5-8 sections (or chapters, if you will).

Here is part 1!!! (Material is subject to change)-

The Gardener – Prequel

Long before there was ever a garden, there was a home. And in this home resided a father and his son. This small family had been in this neighborhood longer than any other family, and continue to live there even now.

Before there was a home, there had been nothing. Nothing had been built, no suitable living arrangements established, nothing. All there was were supplies and hands to work with. At the start of the father and son's journey, the two are found walking up to their beginning task.

“Son, I believe it is time for us both to settle down. To build a home here and start a life,” said the father, “To begin, we must build our home. This should be a simple task...nothing too extravagant.”

“Ok, father. When would you like to begin?”

“Now would be good. I have a feeling we should finish rather quickly. I'm going to go gather supplies, cut down some trees, and start on the foundation. You, I need you to start clearing away the ground so I can prepare it for the foundation.”

The father and son both began their tasks. Being quick, young, and full of energy, the son finished first (and it wasn't because his job was purposefully smaller). The father began cutting down the trees as soon as the supplies were gathered.

Once the trees were cut down, the father dragged them over to the build site.

“So, what are we doing next!?” the son asked.

“First we must plan. In most situations, it is wise to plan your moves out before you act. Not only does it prevent mistakes, it makes the process smoother and faster.”

The father took out a pen and paper, and began drawing a diagram of what he wanted his home to be. He did this for hours, wasting and crumpling many failed papers due to a distaste for the design. Being frustrated with an inability to find a design he liked, the son asked if he could try.

“Sure, go ahead and give it a go,” said the father while laughing.

The son, giving the paper one long look, scribbled a few lines on the page. These scribbles turned into markings and these markings morphed into art and this art slowly formed into a beautiful and almost magic-like setting. He had drawn a large square in the center, and along it placed plants of every sort. The house he speckled with glass and with jewels. Around the home itself was a large wall with three gates guarding it on each side of the wall.

The son reluctantly handed his drawing back to his father and awaited his reply. Silence.

As a tear began to stream down the fathers eye, he whispered, “It's....perfect.”

With the plans all laid out, the two pitched up their tents and headed to bed.


The next day, the two woke up and began their work.

The father cleared the grass away and began to build the foundation of the house. Once that was finished, his son ran up to him and asked, “Why didn't you just start building the house?”

“In order for the house to stand and function properly, it must have a solid foundation. Any structure, either physical or a belief, must be based on solid ground. For a building, it is simple. Simply make one by hand. However, basing your ideas and beliefs on solid ground is entirely different. You must think and question yourself to see what is true and what is not. If your idea or belief lines up with what you already know to be true, then you can base your belief on that same foundation. If it doesn't...then you may wish to reconsider that idea.”

“So, you did this all, so that the house would be a stable place to live? I guess that makes sense. What are we doing next?”

“You and I will be building the house itself.”

Through the next few days both worked tirelessly on the house. First they began to build the outer structure and then worked inward from there. Once that had been finished, the glass panels and windows were put on the sides and the house was painted. The only thing left for the house itself was the furnishings.

“Well son, our home is nearly complete.”

“What else are we doing,” asked the son.

“Tomorrow I am going to begin building the wall and gates, while you begin building the furniture. I have set out instructions for how to make each thing we need.”

The father showed the son where he would be building the furniture the next day and then both went off to bed, only to wake up the next day to begin work again.

As the father began constructing the wall, brick by brick, the son began working on the first piece of furniture- a chair. This, however, was no ordinary chair. There was a certain aspect of it that made it special. A certain 'glow', if you will. The legs of this chair were large and had a clawed bottom, and the top created an archway laced with gold. The chair itself was colored white and was set in the middle of the home.

The son continued building the furniture, and the father had finished about a third of this reddish wall, coming now to the first gate. The father scrawled down twelve names on each gate of some friends of his that were arriving in a short while. These gates were a colored a milky white, with spheres lining the bars. These majestic walls suited the wall, and the wall suited the house.

The father continued on with each gate, and each section of wall. By the time he had finished with the wall, the son was just about done with the last piece of furniture. The father inspected the pieces made and went back to the son.



“You did really well on these! Y'know, if you ever want to, you have the makings of a great carpenter one day! I'm proud of you, son.”

“Thanks! The tables were a bit tough, but I think I got them down just right eventually. Lemme just put the final touches on this chair and I'll be all done.”

Once finished, the son and father took the furniture and placed the pieces in their respective positions in the house. With this complete, the house was finally fulfilled, or so they thought.

“It looks excellent, doesn't it son?”

“It may look nice, but something feels wrong. As if it were lacking something. It feels...empty.”

“That it is, that it is. Perhaps we could hire some servants to fill the home,” asked the father.

“Sure! When would you like to do that?”

“Definitely not today. Putting up the wall and gates has gotten me all tired. I'm about to go take a rest. We can look for some servants tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds good.”

The two headed off to bed in their new rooms. Both got snug under their covers, turned out the lights, and headed to sleep, preparing for the next day.

“Ok, son, you ready to go?”

“Just about, just let me finish tying my shoes and then I'll be out and ready.”

Once both were ready, they headed out and went searching for people to hire for their home. Walking for hours and finding nothing, finally a man was spotted a way back. The father ran up to the man, asking for his name, but received no reply. It was almost as if the man wasn't even in existence, just a passerby in a cosmological scale. This wasn't going to stop the father, however. He ran up to the man directly, and placed his hands on the man's shoulders and asked, “What's you name.”

Turning around abruptly, as if he didn't hear the footsteps patter on the ground behind him, he replied with a shaky, “Michael, sir. My name is Michael.”

“Well, Michael, my son and I are looking to hire some people to come work at my home. Would you be interested?”

“I don't think I'd be well suited for that, sir. I've been wandering around here for a while. Never really settled down. This is all I know, and I'm not sure I want to or am even ready to change that just yet.”

“Mike, if I can call you Mike, I don't care whether or not you believe you are suited for the job. I called your name for a reason, and I believe this is it. If it isn't, you can always go back to what you were doing if you don't find it satisfactory. What do ya say? Give me a chance?”

“I'll give you a month, but after that I make no guarantees about my staying.”
“Great! You can start tomorrow morning! Would you happen to know anyone that would be able to help as well? Maybe some family, perhaps?”

“I have a few brothers that could come help. One's named Gabriel, but he's off running a message to to another one of my other brothers. I suppose I could pass along your invitation to them, but they may not all agree, especially Luci. He isn't always co-operative. He' a hard worker though, and it one of the brightest lightbulbs of the bunch, if you catch my drift.”

“No worries. Just pass along the invitation, and I'll be sure to handle the rest. Thanks Michael.”

Michael went back on his regular path, probably on the way back to his family. The father and son did the same, as they headed back to their home.

“Well, it's still only mid-day. What do you want to do,” the father asked.

“Ummmm...how 'bout we go play catch outside?”

“Sounds good to me. Go grab the ball then I'll race you out to the back.”

After playing their game of catch for a few hours, the two went inside, and kicked back in the rocking chairs to relax. The father then looked on the shelf and saw the chess set he had crafted many years before.

“Hey son, you want to play a game of chess?”

“I don't really know how”

“That's fine, I'll teach ya. Here, come on over and have a seat near me. Now, you have six different pieces- the rook, the knight, the bishop, the queen, the king and the pawn. The goal is to keep your king from being captured, or checkmated. The rook moves in straight lines in any direction til it hits another piece or the edge of the board, the same with the bishop, except it goes diagonal. The queen is basically a combination of the rook and bishop. The knight moves in an 'L' like shape, and can jump pieces. Pawns are the most underestimated piece of the game. These sneaky little pieces can move two on their first move, and after that once. However, they can only attack diagonally. If you manage to get one to the other side, though, you can make it into any piece you want. The king is simple. He can move one square in any direction, as long as it won't lead to him being captured.”

“Sounds easy enough, lets go!”

The two player for hours. Despite the son still being very young, he managed to still give the old man a worthwhile challenge. During their last game, the son was nearing victory.

“Aaaand...checkmate! I got ya!”, the son yelled.

“Ah, beginners luck,” laughed the father, “but I think it's about time we both went off to bed. It's starting to get late. Good night son.”

“Goodnight.”

The two went into their rooms, just as they did the night before. The next morning, the two were awoken by a knock on the door coupled by a thunderous roar of conversation. Michael and his family had arrived.

The father scrambled to get dressed and presentable, while the son just curled back up in bed asking for just a few more minutes. The father then hurriedly ran down the stairs and the hall to greet his new guests and workers. He opened the door, and there stood Michael and Luci.

He shook both of their hands saying, “Welcome, welcome to my home! I take it you are here for the job positions. That's wonderful. You are all hired. Michael, if you could come here for a moment.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“I would like to make you the head of the servants and the head of security around here. If you could do that, I would much appreciate it.”

“I don't think I'm the one you should choose for that job, sir. Luci is the more influential one, and would probably be a better guide to them.”

“Michael, I asked you because I know you the most and trust you the most. You are more than capable of handling this task, and are the only one I believe was designed to do it properly.”

“I'll do my best.”

“That is all I ever ask. Now, if you could bring Gabriel over tome please.”

Michael grabbed Gabriel and sent him to the father.

“Thanks Michael. You may go, I wish to speak with Gabriel alone.”

“Yes sir.”

“Am I in trouble, sir,” Gabriel asked.

“Not in trouble at all, but rather the opposite. I wish to give you a promotion, of sorts. Michael told me you fancy yourself a bit of a messenger.”

“I suppose I am. Or at least I was before this.”

“Well, I would like you to be my personal messenger.”

“It would be an honor, sir.”

“Thank you, that is all.”

The servants began their work as intended, and the father and son went through their lives as normal. Everything was going smoothly until...
 

a pebble

Strategos
A Question

Let me ask you a question. Is that ok? I sincerely hope so. I mean, I did just ask you a question, whether or not it would be ok, and you seemed to take it well. How 'bout we give it a try? There I go again! A question asking if I can ask you a question. Why can't I just spit it out?

Well, it appears I may not be ready to ask you a question. Or, ask you an important question, that is. Maybe we can figure out what I can ask and then we can build up from there! That sounds good, doesn't it? Yes, yes it does.

I suppose we can already assume we're past the 'is that ok' phase, seeing as that was my opening question. Perhaps I can ask you something more personal. That seems like a step forward to me. Let me start by asking what is your name? You don't have to tell me if you don't really want to. You dont even have to continue listening to me ramble, but I would really love to know it! Well, whatever your name is, Im certain it is lovely.

I guess we've passed that phase. Maybe something even more personal. What about...your deepest darkest fear. Would that be good? No no...thats too far. I dont want to know that much about you just yet. We've only just met! What about your favorite color? I can't manage to remember mine. It always escapes me. I suppose your favorite can be mine as well, if that is alright with you. Is that alright?

What would you like to be asked next/ Im much enjoying this little questionnaire you and I are having. It is much like we are long time friends isn't it? Oh of course not. I've only just found out your name! I suppose knowing one's name is the first step in a friendship, so we can consider ourselves future long term friends! If you want to, that is. Do you like me as a friend? Its k if you don't. Not many people do these days. They say I talk too much. I suppose they are correct, but theres just so much to know! So much to see and do!

I've wasted too much of your time as it is. Im just going to take the plunge and ask you my question. Hopefully we can handle it, together. The question I wish to ask you is, why are you crying? Not tears upon your face, no, those I could understand and find the reason to. I am asking why you are crying deep down. Down deep in your soul, you have tears streaming. You've done well to hide them, but haven't fixed the cause. Do you know the cause? Don't tell me you are fine! I can see that you aren't.

You think you can hide it from me, but I see your eyes. They're red. They have these faint rings around them, as if you've lost many an hour of sleep. When I stare into them, I don't feel hope. I feel an emptiness that makes me want to cry. Do you understand my question? I suppose a better question may be, why are you so sad?

Is it because you feel rejected? If not by someone you thought you loved, then by who? Perhapseone who promised to care for you, but then left you on the street? Maybe someone who promised to stay by your side and to always love you, turned their back? Maybe you put your heart on the line for someone else, and instead they crushed it?

Either way, why would these make you cry? Rejection is a powerful force, yes, but those that remain still love you. Is their love not enough to conquer the other's rejection? Or do you not see their love? Maybe you have been blinded by the constant rejection that hate and bitterness has festered in and caused you to choose not to see love. Yes. That is it. Isn't it? Blinded by hate, and bound by fear. I suppose that is a reason to cry. Not a reason for you, please understand. It is a reason for those that love you to cry. For me to cry.

Yes, I love you. Remember? We are future long lost friends! I may not love you now, but eventually I will. It pains me to see you saddened.

Your face feels familiar. As if I do in fact know you. Do you remember me? Let me ask you a question. Is that ok?

_________________________

I got horribly bored lol
 
Watch the movie The Godfather. Then look in the mirror, and in your best Marlon Brando aka Don Corleone voice, say .....

Lemme ask you a question

then watch any Clint Eastwood western, and in your best Clint Eastwood voice, ask yourself .... well you get the picture
 

a pebble

Strategos
The Fire Encompassed Kitten

It was a rainy Tuesday afternoon. I was wandering outside the public square and saw that there was a marathon for cancer awareness. I never fancied myself a runner, but always like to help a worthy cause. I walked briskly, as to not tire myself, over to the booth to sign up.

Once the race began, I managed to stay near the front of the pack. This was until I happened across a burning building. The building managed to go ablaze rather quickly, despite the heavy rain. I called 911 and was going to wait until the firemen arrived, until the unspeakable occurred.

I heard a soft 'meow' coming from the building. Knowing my friend harry would never let the event go if I let the cat die, I sprung into action. I tied my shirt around my mouth to create a make-shift mask, and plunged into the fiery abyss.

I climbed up to the 5th floor, and located the cat. I scooped the cat into my arms and proceeded back down to the ground floor. However, the fire wasn't going to make it this easy. Across the hall, the fire had already eroded the pathway. I had to jump. I went back ten feet to get a running start, and gave the biggest leap I could. Sadly, my legs were worn from the running I had done. I barely missed the edge.

My arms clung to the jagged edge, and I could feel the wood splinter through my skin. The cat, which I tossed to safety before my fall, came over and started licking my hands, as if telling me to push on. So I did. I used my last ounce of strength to pull myself from the blaze, picked up the cat, and ran back down to the street below.

The firemen arrived and gave me first aid. They said I was a hero.
 

dezXIV

<img src="http://i1210.photobucket.com/albums/cc42
The title's bad. I came here to listen to a story about you burning kittens. :p
Besides the disappointment, it's very well written.