Period+8+Stories+(Revised)

Period 8 Stories (Revised)

Please post your edited and/or completed stories here.

John Wrubel Ms. Dugan p.8 Creative Writing 1 2/4/10 I slowly opened my eyes to observe the world around me. The air was thick and sticky like toothpaste that dried out over your hand right after you finished brushing. Automatically I set out to rub the “sandies”, as my mother had called them, out of my eyes. It was odd; it took forever to get them out. There seemed to be tons lodged within my eyes; yet, I felt as though I got no sleep. Finally I saw clearly and sat up. Everything seemed as it was before I had gone to sleep: the same navy blue walls surrounded me with the same unbalanced rock posters strew about at random, along with the same stray tack marks from previously failed off balanced rock poster projects, the same black and blue comforter lying on my bed, and the same drawers flooded with CDs. It was all the same, just as I had seen a million times before. For some odd reason it was refreshing; like I had needed to see it to be alive. It all seemed to be a part of me and without it I wasn’t the same. I got up and reached my mirror to inspect myself. Horrified, I stumbled backwards at the sight of my reflection. Staring back at me was a man, aged at least forty years. My jet black hair streamed below my shoulders and I had acquired a beard. My complexion was pale and I looked very frail. The arms that hung at my sides were skinny and lifeless. The face staring back at me was tired and seemed to be worn with years of stress. Depression was etched in the wrinkles that began to form in my face. It was unfortunately apparent that all youth had begun to deteriorate in my appearance from the reflection before my tired eyes. I felt as though I was a depressed Tom Hanks in the movie “Big”; and the last thing I would have wished for in some carnival contraption, was this. My mind raced, trying to recall the last thing I remembered. As I struggled to regain my senses, the reality smashed my head numb. Question after question flooded in, creating a mental Katrina of chaos and fright. What has happened to me? Why am I older? Why does everything seem so familiar yet not routine? What date is it? What did I do to deserve this? I longed for answers, they were a necessity. Fear compelled me to run out of my bedroom door as fast as I could. In my haste I had forgotten the solution to all my questions. It hit me halfway down the stairs; my mother. She would help me, give me the answers. I turned around and bolted towards her room to the left of mine. The sunshine, beaming through the window, shed light on all my mothers’ things: makeup, dirty clothes, shoes, her alarm clock, etc. I could not spot any of my father’s belongings, which was odd because he was just a dirty and disheveled as I was. As a whole, the room looked half empty; almost barren. As I grabbed the door frame leading into her room, I had my first memory since I had awoken. My mom and dad were screaming at one another. Their voices got louder, and louder, till the sounds shrieked and whistled like a teakettle on the verge of bursting. Just as quickly as it had started, the intense memory had faded. I mentally shifted back into reality and wondered where my mother was. She was a stay-at-home mother and barely left the house, and if she did she would have woken me up; if she could of course. I was quite a heavy sleeper. I decided to wander around the house to look for answers while I came down the stairs and had spied the computer resting on a table about three feet away from the steps. Sitting down, I grabbed the mouse and suddenly, my mind was mentally invaded once more. This time it was the first time we had gotten the computer. The whole room became white and fuzzy and I saw the determined moving men, my mom sighing with despair as she signed the check, my dad throwing the football with my brother, and the girl whose name escaped me. Her image was saturated throughout my dreams; I knew her features like the back of my hand. Those innocent auburn eyes, flowing blond and brunette hair, and happy smile were nostalgic; like the opening theme song for your favorite TV show you used to watch when you were a kid. I grabbed the mouse once again and frowned when the image of her was gone. Defeated, I focused on finding out the date and time that I had awaken in. As “yahoo.com” finished loading, my jaw dropped. “January 20, 2028” hit me as hard as a freight train. How could this be? If this date was right, I was to be forty years old. Tears began flowing from my face as my mother walked in from behind me. Joy, longing, regret, and utter shock were blazoned across her face as she dropped the groceries all across the hardwood kitchen floor. Throwing her arms up in the air, and screaming she was on me in an instant. Her warm tears soaked my large, matured shoulders. “Mom, what’s happened to me?!” I yelled desperately. “Josh, Josh, O’ Josh, I’ve missed you!” whimpered my mom. Her voice quavered as if it was a poorly shot arrow crashing to the ground. When she spoke, she sounded weaker and aged compared to the strong, resilient, and motherly voice I had grown up hearing. I felt as though I had seen her for the first time, wishing things were the way they had once been. Joy pulsed through her body as she looked upon me. She studied me as though I was an old friend who had returned after a long absence. “Mom, calm down. I need answers. What has happened to me?” I asked again. “I don’t know Josh. I hope you're still my son. You’re all I have left.” she returned with a hint of despair and regret. “Mom, I’ll ask again. Why am I so old? What’s happened to me? Where’s Dad?” I pleaded with her. “Josh, you must be forty by now. I don’t know what’s happened to you. Why, ever since you left for college, I don’t see you, hear from you; hell I barely know you exist. And Dad? We’ve divorced, years ago. With your brother killed in the war, and you leaving us, we had nothing left. I was a horrible parent, why else would both my sons be gone?!” she exclaimed, exasperated from screaming and talking so fast as if this had been something that’s been pent up for years. “I don’t remember anything Mom. I’m so sorry.” I replied solemnly. She let out a long sigh and held me longer and tighter, believing that the longer and more fierce she had held me, the longer I might stay. I missed my mother, and her holding me. After a few moments she let go and said “Regardless, it’s good to have you home.” Then she began putting away the groceries in the cabinets and fixing up dinner. She seemed revitalized, and looked more like the mother I had once remembered. I headed to the left of the steps and into the bathroom to search for answers in my reflection. I shaved off the sloppy facial hair that I had acquired, and watched it fall to the ground; ceasing to be a part of me. I inspected the new, shaved flesh with my hand. As I groped around, my hand rubbed across a scar about an inch long under my ear. As I touched it, I felt my mind losing control once more. I was force to take a mental backseat and watch. Standing before me was the same girl from before. This time, she looked much worse. She also had a scar; in fact, more than one. Bruises traced her body, patched here and there. The pain she had suffered radiated around her. I felt weak gazing upon her in such a poor condition. I wanted to hold her and console her. All of a sudden, she grabbed a piece of glass and reared back to strike. In an instant, I regained control. The sight of her in trouble was frightening, and a new passion was ignited inside me. I put my concerns and goals off to the back of my head, and focused my full attention on finding her and helping her. She was in trouble, this girl who I know so well yet, know not at all. Although I had no idea where she was, how old she was, how I had known her, and if she even wanted my help, I yearned to be there for her. That’s all that mattered in my mind. Rushing out the door, I turned back to look inside the window and saw my mom staring at me. Tears replaced her smile and new born excitement had died down. She bent down and began crying. I turned back around to focus on the task at hand, walking out into my driveway and away from the house. I started my journey on foot, and progressed past my driveway and out of my col-de-sac. Old memories started to trickle back into my mind. All the places where I had played with the neighborhood boys triggered soothing memory after memory. Shooting off toy rockets in backyards, throwing poppers at cats and dogs being walked by their owners, drinking root beer and smoking cigars out near the woods behind my house; it all seemed so close yet so far away. A detached smile formed across my face as I wished to wake up back then instead of now. I wondered, why me? Why did I have to miss out on twenty three years of my life? Nobody else did; yet, how would I know? Besides my mother, I know nobody else, except for the nameless maiden of my wildest dreams and fantasies. The regret fueled my desire to keep moving forward. I started to move out of suburbia and onto a single lane road with endless green fields to the right and left of it. I longed to run into them and roll around for hours, forgetting this bland, forced path. I wished for my mind and body to roam in those grassy fields forever; forgetting the man made, seemingly predetermined path that lay ahead of me. To my disappointment, I did not. I stuck my arm out, and in the air hoisted my thumb. Why did I have to be so independent? It was no easy road, and the least I could use is someone; anyone really, to help me get to the main road, and the town. Suddenly, I got the help I was yearning for, when a car chugged behind me, slowing down and nearing to my position. “Hey stranger! Where ya headed?” said the man “I’m looking to find a girl. I’m not sure if I know who she is, or if she wants to see me, but I need to find her.” I explained. “Sounds like a lifetime movie to me. Ah hell, get in. I’ve got nothin’ better to do anyways.” “Thanks man, you’re a lifesaver.” “Hey, wait. What’s your name anyway?” “Josh. Josh Fitz. And you?” “Well I’ll be damned. Josh it’s me!” he bellowed with excitement, grabbing my arm. In that moment I began to feel a familiar powerlessness come over me. Just as I was a passenger in the car, I had become a mental passenger once more. The man’s name was Ron Minor. His image became indented in my brain. He was synonymous with those poppers and toy rockets in suburbia. I cursed myself for forgetting good ol’ Ron. I wanted to be just like him. He was the symbol of cool to me. No matter what he did, good or bad, I would follow. Any pain or struggle from the long school week was put in the backseat when I was with Ron. He added a simplicity to my life, the most complicated problems I struggled with, he figured out easily. Every weekend we would seemingly explore some new world. At least to us it was a new world, even though we had never left our suburbia. He had just gotten his license, and we planned on making the best of it. We had all these dreams and ambitions, and I somehow had forgotten all of them. Shifting back into reality I asked him; “Ron! I can’t believe it’s you. What’s the last you remember of me?” “Josh, I’m not sure who you are. You were my best friend. I don’t know when, or why, but you started to shift away. So I just did my own thing after that. Things haven’t been the same. Why don’t you remember?” “Honestly Ron, I have no clue. I believe I woke up today, twenty three years older than what I remember. Well, I still do not remember anything. Yesterday, in my mind, I was seventeen. I have to revisit my memories in some way or another. I’m helpless to stop, or change them from coming back. Good or bad. Ron, I wish I could say I remembered and missed you before I just saw you, but I can’t. I thought you were some random guy helping me out, just before you grabbed my arm.” “Hell, that’s awful. That’s just as bad as remembering how it used to be.” “How is it now? How have you been? What’s it like to be an adult?” Ron sat back and chewed on the question for a bit, looking off onto the open road, trying to find the answer. While he pondered, I noticed we were heading into town. As the road continued, shops and stores popped up around us, all placed around the main road. The grassy fields ended, and what stood was a bustling concrete environment. Ron pulled the car over and next to a bus stop. “Well, this is your stop.” Ron said after a long silence. “Thanks Ron. Look maybe we can get together, and try to get through being an adult together.” I offered with hope. “Josh, I’d love to, but…I live miles and miles away from here. The past two weeks I’ve been traveling around the country, trying to find myself. I decided to stop home and see the folks and such. It just so happens that I met you. It’s a whole different world out there than here. If what you’re saying is true, and you still think you’re seventeen, go out and find that world. You haven’t missed a thing, but don’t think you won’t if another twenty three years goes by. You don’t need me, or this girl.” While Ron spoke, I gazed around the sidewalks and saw her, in real life, right before my eyes. Time seemed to have no effect on her body. She looked more beautiful and eye catching than ever before. Despite her five foot four stature, and various people walking on the sidewalk next to her, she stood out like a lighthouse from a dark, cloudy ocean. The terror and fear that had been drenched all over her the last time I had seen her, in my head, was gone. She seemed as though she was in heaven. A bright, exuberant smile was splashed across her warm, happy face, and her golden blonde hair bobbed up and down as she took each step. Excitement and wonder made every hair on my body stick straight up. To me, nothing in world was stopping me from getting to her. Well, maybe one thing could. Alongside her was a tall man, with broad shoulders. He looked like Mr. Clean. He looked perfect, and it was this perfection that made me feel lower than dirt. They both walked, arms locked together, with matching smiles. I refused to let him stop me; I had to speak to her. “I gotta go, thanks Ron!” I yelled, leaping out of the passenger seat. As the door slammed shut, I looked back and saw Ron sigh and put the car in drive. I leaped out on the side walk and ran towards my maiden. She shot a look of surprise and wonder as I grabbed her arm. Then, a mental wave crashed into me. My mind opened up into a theater, and across the screen was me, and her. I looked just as I had before I had woken up. Youth seemed much sweeter seeing it now than looking in a mirror back then. Millions of feelings rushed into me the moment I saw us together. They felt like putting on old jackets and pants, and shirts once more before you were about to give to your mother to give to good will. The girl’s name was January. She had meant the world over to me. We had been dating for 2 years, when I was seventeen. January was everything I wanted, and always would have been. We would spend days hanging out, sitting under the sunset or stars as if we were in the lifetime movie Ron spoke of. Her jokes had been my jokes, my favorite bands had been hers, my plans for the weekend had been hers, we had truly everything in common. I found my way into every part of her life, and welcomed her into every part of mine. The two of us did any and everything together, and we became the centerpiece of one others lives. She was like a song that everyone heard and knew, but the lyrics only spoke to me. January was like everything I knew that was amazing, but at this moment, with that man, all she really was, was gone. The mental screen flashed tons of “precious moments” we had together, but stopped at one particular moment. The one I had seen before, where she looked so awful and sad. I snapped back into reality. Stunned, January took a step back and gazed at me with confusion. Mr. Clean angrily yelled; “Hey buddy, what’s the deal?!” I stepped back, retreating, trying to form words for all these emotions. A strobe light of horrible images took a toll to my psyche. These images kept showing me hurting January and creating those scars. The further back my arms lurched to swing, the louder her cries were in my mind. It tore me apart from my core, and shook the frames of my mental state. I kept screaming; “NEVER LEAVE ME! I CAN’T LOSE YOU!” “I won’t I promise” she pleaded “What’s going to happen at college?! Some guy might amaze you and take you away from me!” I worried “We’ll see what happens Josh, I can’t promise anything” “I can’t take that, you’ll never understand” In an instant, it was gone. Crouched on the ground now, I curled into a ball and started sobbing. January stooped down to try and console me, and turned my head towards her so she could inspect me. As she saw me, the fear crept back into her eyes. She started to back away and cry. Every fiber in my being wanted to make everything okay and simple between us, but I slowly realized that I couldn’t. So much had happened, and we could never go back to the way it was when we were so happy. I had hurt her too much. Choking back more tears, and collecting myself, I ran away. I sought to find some life less emotional, more simple. I knew I had created a lot of drama and damage, but as I ran further and further away, it became clear to me that it wouldn’t matter in a new world. A new world I was going to welcome with open arms, and embrace like I should have to my old one.