deadpie
December 10th, 2012, 12:45 AM
This is a new story I'm working on. Realize that like most of my writings, this becomes very weird, complex, and insane. Unlike my other ones it's not as violent/gorey, not disturbing, but it does have some triggering stuff in it. My idea is to have ten chapters, but around chapter nine if there's any people who care, I might just do a second part to the story, but probably not.
Eh, well, here you go.
DAMIEN'S ARK
I.
After the pain in my left arm has finally gone away I head towards the restroom, pull back the sleeves of my long sleeve t-shirt and examine the scars and recent cuts on my wrists. I look at the ugly kid in the mirror; ginger, a short five foot tall, and heavy bags under my eyes. Once again I feel the need to hurt myself, but I back out of it because I'm too drained to even drag something across my wrist.
Mother never taught me how to ride a bike, swim, or tie my shoes when I was a child. These are things I learned how to do by myself. Now my mother is far away from me after the physical abuse she inflicted on me for a year when I was thirteen once she lost her sanity. It's something that I'll probably catch next.
I head back to my bedroom, strip down and throw my Finn The Human costume on for the costume party later tonight. Once I'm dressed, I look at my bed, pull one hand up to attempt to levitate it, but I can only lift it about a foot before I grow tired.
This ability I have is something I stumbled upon about six months ago. It started off with me being able to lift simple objects like a piece of candy or quarters. Now I can lift something up to a hundred pounds if I try hard enough. I've been able to keep it all to a secret and I don't really understand it, but the abnormal things of my life is something I've eventually gotten used to.
Grace comes into my bedroom and asks, “Are you ready to head to the party?”
“Sure”, I answer. “I'm only going for the alcohol though. You can hit on all the guys you want, but remember that you still have to drive me home.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
She grabs my hand, makes me run with her out of my house and to her car. I giggle a bit at her generic cat costume and lay back in the car as she drives down the foggy road. After a few minutes of silence she turns some vocal jazz by Chet Baker. The two of us have our own improvisation band where I play drums and she plays guitar, but we haven't played a live show in a while. We've always thought how cool it would be to have someone that plays trumpet or saxophone join our band. Instead, we just fascinate on Chet's music.
Grace parks the car in someone's driveway and I follow her to the house, which is blasting with loud shitty house music. As soon as we enter the two of us split up in search of the alcohol, which I find is in the kitchen. The place is crowded with douche-bags and I start to think it was a bad idea to come to this place. I pour myself a shot of vodka about four times, head to the living room and sit down next to three other people on a sofa.
The three of them greet me and one of them, whom seems like a kid, says, “I like the costume. You know, I wanted to show as Rigby, but I'm not creative enough to create my own costume. My name is Damien. How about you?”
“Dylan. Not to be rude, but you seem a little young to be here.”
“Young? We're all teenagers here. There's only a few people over eighteen. Let me guess... You're probably sixteen. I'm thirteen. Not a big difference in my opinion.”
Damien is a few inches shorter then me, probably four foot nine, has a stack of medium long black hair, one brown eye and the other being blue. It catches me off guard, but I don't say anything. He's wearing all green including a top hat, which makes me come to the conclusion that he's a leprechaun.
The two other people leave the sofa, Damien looks at me and asks, “Do you believe in fate? That some people are meant to meet at precise moments in their lives for a certain reason?”
“No”, I shrug. “I'm guessing that you do.”
“Very much so. In fact I believe we were made to meet each other right here and right now. Why? I don't know. Someone told me that I'd meet you here at this party and I didn't even know who you are. Strange, eh? A random guy earlier today gave me five hundred bucks and told me that I'd meet a sixteen year old named Dylan at a costume party at this exact address. I'm not kidding you either. I find it just as strange as you do.”
I look around trying to find Grace, but don't see her. What he's saying doesn't make much sense, but I don't know why he would be lying. Not even I knew I was going to be here until Grace came to my house this evening. I mumble, “You're not making much sense... I should get going.”
As soon as I stand up I trip on a beer can, but before my face hits the carpet a small pillow slides across the floor and I fall upon it. I didn't do that and I didn't see anybody kick it over.
“You should say thank you”, Damien says sitting on the floor next to me. “One more thing... he told me that we were shared a common ability, but that's all he said. That's all he had to say to me. I put the obvious together, which is of course, strange and it seems I was right about fate. The only thing that confuses me is who the man was and how he knew about us.”
What the fuck? He knows? Someone else knows? That means someone must have saw me do something in public and kept an eye on me. That's the only logical conclusion I can come to. Of course it makes sense that I wouldn't be the only one to possess this, but if he does then how many people do? I stand up, move through all the people, rush outside and start panicking in the foggy weather.
Out of nowhere Damien pops out in front of me smiling. He jumps up and down holding his hat up with one hand and says, “Isn't this exciting? How long have you been able to use your ability? Started with me six months ago. Doesn't it make you curious that other people might have this? What if we're the only two people?”
“Get away from me”, I yell. “This isn't happening! This is fucking crazy!”
“Not at all! Calm down. We're going to be new best buds now!”
He follows me on the sidewalk as I try to walk calmly, then he stops me by pushing his hand in front of me, points his hand up at a stoplight, and it slowly bends into a perfect spiral to the road. They've talked about that same vandalism on the News. Damien is the one that's been doing it?”
I put his hand down and say, “You can't do shit like that! What are you thinking? No wonder that man knew about the two of us and our abilities. We can't let anyone else find out about this. This is serious. You can't keep bending stoplights and messing around.”
“Come on. Are you really going to be that boring? Where's your sense for adventure? I thought you were Finn! Nobody can see us in the fog. You really think I'm stupid enough to let people catch me doing stuff like this? I'm confused who that guy was myself, but it doesn't matter now. You have to show me what you can do now.”
He was able to bend metal that easily, which means he's much stronger than I am. I simply lift his hat off his head and send it far down the road. Damien spits down and says, “Dammit, what's your problem?”
I follow him slowly as he runs down in a frenzy to get his hat. After a bit of time I start to calm down and not feel as scared knowing someone else knows about my ability. In fact, being around him makes me want to use my ability even more. When I catch up to him he lights himself a cigarette, crushes the empty packet up and throws it at me.
“Sorry about that”, I apologize. “You're right. What I need to do is just stay calm. Uh, I guess we should head back to the party.”
“No. My house isn't too far away. You can crash there tonight if you want to.”
He shows me the way to his place, opens the front door for me and continues, “I'll promise to keep everything a secret and calm down with my vandalism. Just promise me you'll be my friend.”
Damien pulls a bottle of rum from out of his fridge, pours two glasses and stares directly at my arms. I didn't realize I had ever pulled my sleeves back up, but it's too late now. He knows that I hurt myself. Damien scoots the glass over to me in silence, gulps his down and awaits for me to say something.
“Ok, I promise I'll be your friend.”
After pounding down a tall can of beer in the restroom I go back outside, grind down successfully on a ramp and look for Damien around the skate park. He told me he was going to only skate in one section of the park, but it seems like he's hiding. Out of nowhere, I slam into someone, falling to the ground and my board flies up to land on my chest.
Someone lends me a hand up, I take up, get on my feet and apologize, “I'm sorry about that. I wasn't paying attention.”
“No problem. I haven't seen you here before. You must prefer that other shitty skate park by the high school. My name's Cale. You?”
“Dylan”, I answer. “Thanks again.”
He laughs at me as I stumble backward in my drunkenness. Cale looks my age, five foot four, long dirty blonde hair cut at his eyebrows, and blue eyes. I ask, “Have you seen my friend? He has black hair and two different eye colors.”
“Yeah. He actually was leaving the place when I saw him. Maybe you should check the library next to here. A lot of people come here, skate around, smoke pot, then head to the library to mess around. I'll show you where it is.”
I get back on my skateboard, follow behind him, and keep dazing off at the sky. Once we get to the library Cale leads me to the back entrance where a few people are sitting down in a circle smoking and passing a pipe around. I stop before entering, notice Damien sitting in the circle, tap on his shoulder and say, “You could of told me you were coming here. I freaked out.”
“Chill out”, he replies. “I'll be back in about thirty minutes. All I wanted to do was be generous and share some of my dank shit with a few people. I'll smoke you out later tonight.”
He looks away and I walk back over to Cale still bothered that he walked off on me. Damien is someone I have to keep an eye on now because I fear that he'll end up using his ability in public and get caught. Cale heads inside the library, I follow him, he stops between two nonfiction bookshelves, and sits down.
“What's wrong with your friends eyes?”
“He has something called heterochromia. I'm sure there's a book on it here somewhere if you're interested.”
“I'm ok. Really, I just want to rest right here for a few hours or few days. I'm exhausted and tired; not from skating, but... just life, in general.”
Cale pulls out a stack of books, places them down and uses them as a pillow to lay on. He continues, “My big sister was a drug addict. When I was ten she was fifteen and started to snort crank. I didn't see her much for a year once that started, because she ran away to live with her dealer, who beat and raped her repeatedly. Once she went to Rehab, got clean and came back home I got closer with her again, but she went back to using. This time she traded one addiction for another and started shooting black tar. It wasn't long until I found her dead in the bathroom with a syringe in one of her toes.”
There's a long silent pause and he starts tearing up in front of me. I come over closer to him, pick him up by his waist, let him hug and cry into my shoulder.
“I'll always be here for you”, I whisper. “All you have to do is ask. You can get through this. It's ok to cry. It's worse to hold in your pain and not face it.”
Father dug a hole, put me in it, and buried me in up to my neck when I was eight years old. He invited his two work friends over to drink beers and then he mowed the grass around me. At age nine he punched out three of my baby teeth and mom divorced him.
The subway is about half-full this Tuesday. On this day every week I typically try to visit my father because its his only day off. Even though I don't want to see him a part of him still misses him from home. It took a divorce for him to stop abusing me. Now we just sit, play cards, and have some rum.
A man sitting next to me says quietly, “It's a pleasure meeting you on this side, Dylan. You have a lot of questions about your ability that you probably want answered. Lucky for you I have the answers to just about everything you could ever imagine. Unfortunately, you have to play my games if you want to get that information. Whether I give it to you or not doesn't actually matter, because I'm actually making you decide whether other people live or die.”
My heart starts racing and I think about what Damien said the first time we met. This is obviously the man that spoke to him. He's about six foot three, wearing a black suit, white tie, and has a briefcase sitting in his lap. The man slowly opens it up to show me a device inside of it with a timer ticking less than three minutes.
“Don't worry”, he continues and closes the briefcase. “I'm going to tell you how to disarm it, but you have to do so with your ability. If you aren't able to then every passenger on this train, including me and you of course, will explode. All the little kids, cute little animals, happy faces will be burnt just about to the bone. It won't be painful, but it will be brutal and remembered.”
Everyone around us is in their own world minding their own business. They're all about to die because of me. I don't understand how he wants me to disarm this bomb with my powers. The most I could do is probably throw it out the window if I want to.
He goes on, “If you looked closely there were four different colored wires. You want to pull apart the black one. That wire was hooked on the very left side. I want to see how you can deal with controlling things you can't see and I also want to see you under pressure.”
I think about what I saw in the briefcase, focus on the idea of tearing the black wire, and move my thumb and pointer finger apart to hopefully snap it. He notices what I do with my hand, but doesn't open the briefcase up or move it. Instead, he smiles at me and holds out his watch in front of me.
There's only thirty seconds left. We're coming close to a stop and I get the want to yell out 'BOMB' but it wouldn't do any good but to leave everyone in panic before blowing the fuck up. It ticks down, passes three minutes, and I feel like puking even though I realize that I was able to stop it from going off.
“Congratulations”, he says. “I'll see you soon. You won't report this to anyone because if you do I will kill the father you are about to see and kill your mother too. Not only that, but I'll kill your new friend Damien and all of his relatives as well. Take care.”
He walks off the train casually with his briefcase and the entire part of my station empties. Out of nowhere I start puking on the floor, shaking in immense fear and miss my exit to see my father. I move back in forth in trance as the train station fills back up and leave on my exit to head back home.
Eh, well, here you go.
DAMIEN'S ARK
I.
After the pain in my left arm has finally gone away I head towards the restroom, pull back the sleeves of my long sleeve t-shirt and examine the scars and recent cuts on my wrists. I look at the ugly kid in the mirror; ginger, a short five foot tall, and heavy bags under my eyes. Once again I feel the need to hurt myself, but I back out of it because I'm too drained to even drag something across my wrist.
Mother never taught me how to ride a bike, swim, or tie my shoes when I was a child. These are things I learned how to do by myself. Now my mother is far away from me after the physical abuse she inflicted on me for a year when I was thirteen once she lost her sanity. It's something that I'll probably catch next.
I head back to my bedroom, strip down and throw my Finn The Human costume on for the costume party later tonight. Once I'm dressed, I look at my bed, pull one hand up to attempt to levitate it, but I can only lift it about a foot before I grow tired.
This ability I have is something I stumbled upon about six months ago. It started off with me being able to lift simple objects like a piece of candy or quarters. Now I can lift something up to a hundred pounds if I try hard enough. I've been able to keep it all to a secret and I don't really understand it, but the abnormal things of my life is something I've eventually gotten used to.
Grace comes into my bedroom and asks, “Are you ready to head to the party?”
“Sure”, I answer. “I'm only going for the alcohol though. You can hit on all the guys you want, but remember that you still have to drive me home.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
She grabs my hand, makes me run with her out of my house and to her car. I giggle a bit at her generic cat costume and lay back in the car as she drives down the foggy road. After a few minutes of silence she turns some vocal jazz by Chet Baker. The two of us have our own improvisation band where I play drums and she plays guitar, but we haven't played a live show in a while. We've always thought how cool it would be to have someone that plays trumpet or saxophone join our band. Instead, we just fascinate on Chet's music.
Grace parks the car in someone's driveway and I follow her to the house, which is blasting with loud shitty house music. As soon as we enter the two of us split up in search of the alcohol, which I find is in the kitchen. The place is crowded with douche-bags and I start to think it was a bad idea to come to this place. I pour myself a shot of vodka about four times, head to the living room and sit down next to three other people on a sofa.
The three of them greet me and one of them, whom seems like a kid, says, “I like the costume. You know, I wanted to show as Rigby, but I'm not creative enough to create my own costume. My name is Damien. How about you?”
“Dylan. Not to be rude, but you seem a little young to be here.”
“Young? We're all teenagers here. There's only a few people over eighteen. Let me guess... You're probably sixteen. I'm thirteen. Not a big difference in my opinion.”
Damien is a few inches shorter then me, probably four foot nine, has a stack of medium long black hair, one brown eye and the other being blue. It catches me off guard, but I don't say anything. He's wearing all green including a top hat, which makes me come to the conclusion that he's a leprechaun.
The two other people leave the sofa, Damien looks at me and asks, “Do you believe in fate? That some people are meant to meet at precise moments in their lives for a certain reason?”
“No”, I shrug. “I'm guessing that you do.”
“Very much so. In fact I believe we were made to meet each other right here and right now. Why? I don't know. Someone told me that I'd meet you here at this party and I didn't even know who you are. Strange, eh? A random guy earlier today gave me five hundred bucks and told me that I'd meet a sixteen year old named Dylan at a costume party at this exact address. I'm not kidding you either. I find it just as strange as you do.”
I look around trying to find Grace, but don't see her. What he's saying doesn't make much sense, but I don't know why he would be lying. Not even I knew I was going to be here until Grace came to my house this evening. I mumble, “You're not making much sense... I should get going.”
As soon as I stand up I trip on a beer can, but before my face hits the carpet a small pillow slides across the floor and I fall upon it. I didn't do that and I didn't see anybody kick it over.
“You should say thank you”, Damien says sitting on the floor next to me. “One more thing... he told me that we were shared a common ability, but that's all he said. That's all he had to say to me. I put the obvious together, which is of course, strange and it seems I was right about fate. The only thing that confuses me is who the man was and how he knew about us.”
What the fuck? He knows? Someone else knows? That means someone must have saw me do something in public and kept an eye on me. That's the only logical conclusion I can come to. Of course it makes sense that I wouldn't be the only one to possess this, but if he does then how many people do? I stand up, move through all the people, rush outside and start panicking in the foggy weather.
Out of nowhere Damien pops out in front of me smiling. He jumps up and down holding his hat up with one hand and says, “Isn't this exciting? How long have you been able to use your ability? Started with me six months ago. Doesn't it make you curious that other people might have this? What if we're the only two people?”
“Get away from me”, I yell. “This isn't happening! This is fucking crazy!”
“Not at all! Calm down. We're going to be new best buds now!”
He follows me on the sidewalk as I try to walk calmly, then he stops me by pushing his hand in front of me, points his hand up at a stoplight, and it slowly bends into a perfect spiral to the road. They've talked about that same vandalism on the News. Damien is the one that's been doing it?”
I put his hand down and say, “You can't do shit like that! What are you thinking? No wonder that man knew about the two of us and our abilities. We can't let anyone else find out about this. This is serious. You can't keep bending stoplights and messing around.”
“Come on. Are you really going to be that boring? Where's your sense for adventure? I thought you were Finn! Nobody can see us in the fog. You really think I'm stupid enough to let people catch me doing stuff like this? I'm confused who that guy was myself, but it doesn't matter now. You have to show me what you can do now.”
He was able to bend metal that easily, which means he's much stronger than I am. I simply lift his hat off his head and send it far down the road. Damien spits down and says, “Dammit, what's your problem?”
I follow him slowly as he runs down in a frenzy to get his hat. After a bit of time I start to calm down and not feel as scared knowing someone else knows about my ability. In fact, being around him makes me want to use my ability even more. When I catch up to him he lights himself a cigarette, crushes the empty packet up and throws it at me.
“Sorry about that”, I apologize. “You're right. What I need to do is just stay calm. Uh, I guess we should head back to the party.”
“No. My house isn't too far away. You can crash there tonight if you want to.”
He shows me the way to his place, opens the front door for me and continues, “I'll promise to keep everything a secret and calm down with my vandalism. Just promise me you'll be my friend.”
Damien pulls a bottle of rum from out of his fridge, pours two glasses and stares directly at my arms. I didn't realize I had ever pulled my sleeves back up, but it's too late now. He knows that I hurt myself. Damien scoots the glass over to me in silence, gulps his down and awaits for me to say something.
“Ok, I promise I'll be your friend.”
After pounding down a tall can of beer in the restroom I go back outside, grind down successfully on a ramp and look for Damien around the skate park. He told me he was going to only skate in one section of the park, but it seems like he's hiding. Out of nowhere, I slam into someone, falling to the ground and my board flies up to land on my chest.
Someone lends me a hand up, I take up, get on my feet and apologize, “I'm sorry about that. I wasn't paying attention.”
“No problem. I haven't seen you here before. You must prefer that other shitty skate park by the high school. My name's Cale. You?”
“Dylan”, I answer. “Thanks again.”
He laughs at me as I stumble backward in my drunkenness. Cale looks my age, five foot four, long dirty blonde hair cut at his eyebrows, and blue eyes. I ask, “Have you seen my friend? He has black hair and two different eye colors.”
“Yeah. He actually was leaving the place when I saw him. Maybe you should check the library next to here. A lot of people come here, skate around, smoke pot, then head to the library to mess around. I'll show you where it is.”
I get back on my skateboard, follow behind him, and keep dazing off at the sky. Once we get to the library Cale leads me to the back entrance where a few people are sitting down in a circle smoking and passing a pipe around. I stop before entering, notice Damien sitting in the circle, tap on his shoulder and say, “You could of told me you were coming here. I freaked out.”
“Chill out”, he replies. “I'll be back in about thirty minutes. All I wanted to do was be generous and share some of my dank shit with a few people. I'll smoke you out later tonight.”
He looks away and I walk back over to Cale still bothered that he walked off on me. Damien is someone I have to keep an eye on now because I fear that he'll end up using his ability in public and get caught. Cale heads inside the library, I follow him, he stops between two nonfiction bookshelves, and sits down.
“What's wrong with your friends eyes?”
“He has something called heterochromia. I'm sure there's a book on it here somewhere if you're interested.”
“I'm ok. Really, I just want to rest right here for a few hours or few days. I'm exhausted and tired; not from skating, but... just life, in general.”
Cale pulls out a stack of books, places them down and uses them as a pillow to lay on. He continues, “My big sister was a drug addict. When I was ten she was fifteen and started to snort crank. I didn't see her much for a year once that started, because she ran away to live with her dealer, who beat and raped her repeatedly. Once she went to Rehab, got clean and came back home I got closer with her again, but she went back to using. This time she traded one addiction for another and started shooting black tar. It wasn't long until I found her dead in the bathroom with a syringe in one of her toes.”
There's a long silent pause and he starts tearing up in front of me. I come over closer to him, pick him up by his waist, let him hug and cry into my shoulder.
“I'll always be here for you”, I whisper. “All you have to do is ask. You can get through this. It's ok to cry. It's worse to hold in your pain and not face it.”
Father dug a hole, put me in it, and buried me in up to my neck when I was eight years old. He invited his two work friends over to drink beers and then he mowed the grass around me. At age nine he punched out three of my baby teeth and mom divorced him.
The subway is about half-full this Tuesday. On this day every week I typically try to visit my father because its his only day off. Even though I don't want to see him a part of him still misses him from home. It took a divorce for him to stop abusing me. Now we just sit, play cards, and have some rum.
A man sitting next to me says quietly, “It's a pleasure meeting you on this side, Dylan. You have a lot of questions about your ability that you probably want answered. Lucky for you I have the answers to just about everything you could ever imagine. Unfortunately, you have to play my games if you want to get that information. Whether I give it to you or not doesn't actually matter, because I'm actually making you decide whether other people live or die.”
My heart starts racing and I think about what Damien said the first time we met. This is obviously the man that spoke to him. He's about six foot three, wearing a black suit, white tie, and has a briefcase sitting in his lap. The man slowly opens it up to show me a device inside of it with a timer ticking less than three minutes.
“Don't worry”, he continues and closes the briefcase. “I'm going to tell you how to disarm it, but you have to do so with your ability. If you aren't able to then every passenger on this train, including me and you of course, will explode. All the little kids, cute little animals, happy faces will be burnt just about to the bone. It won't be painful, but it will be brutal and remembered.”
Everyone around us is in their own world minding their own business. They're all about to die because of me. I don't understand how he wants me to disarm this bomb with my powers. The most I could do is probably throw it out the window if I want to.
He goes on, “If you looked closely there were four different colored wires. You want to pull apart the black one. That wire was hooked on the very left side. I want to see how you can deal with controlling things you can't see and I also want to see you under pressure.”
I think about what I saw in the briefcase, focus on the idea of tearing the black wire, and move my thumb and pointer finger apart to hopefully snap it. He notices what I do with my hand, but doesn't open the briefcase up or move it. Instead, he smiles at me and holds out his watch in front of me.
There's only thirty seconds left. We're coming close to a stop and I get the want to yell out 'BOMB' but it wouldn't do any good but to leave everyone in panic before blowing the fuck up. It ticks down, passes three minutes, and I feel like puking even though I realize that I was able to stop it from going off.
“Congratulations”, he says. “I'll see you soon. You won't report this to anyone because if you do I will kill the father you are about to see and kill your mother too. Not only that, but I'll kill your new friend Damien and all of his relatives as well. Take care.”
He walks off the train casually with his briefcase and the entire part of my station empties. Out of nowhere I start puking on the floor, shaking in immense fear and miss my exit to see my father. I move back in forth in trance as the train station fills back up and leave on my exit to head back home.