Screech! The red car stopped suddenly and its occupants were thrown forward. The shock of the crash lingered and the young woman barely remembered her trip to the hospital. When she awoke many hours later, she was lying in a clean, white hospital room with her arm in a cast and stitches in her cheek.
The curtains were drawn back and she could see the sky of a late afternoon- a bright blue with cotton ball clouds. She turned her head and the room swam. When her vision cleared, she saw the clock read 4:06. 9 hours since the crash. Why had she been out? Why had she been out at 7 o’clock in the morning? She was never out that early. Oh… Damien. Of course… He was probably out partying… Or maybe he had a hangover. Well serve him right.
The door opened and a nurse entered. She wore a spotless dress and her soft, brown, cow eyes looked kindly at the poor figure on the bed.
The nurse said “Good afternoon dear. I’m Bertha.”
“B-Berea.”
The name rolled clumsily off her tongue.
“Wha-wha- What happened?”
“You were in a car crash dear.”
Really. She never would have guessed that.
“I mean what’s wrong with me?”
“You have a compound fracture of your humorous and you cut your face.”
“Oh. When can I go home?”
“Excuse me dear?”
How stupid was this woman?
“Home. When can I leave this hospital?”
“This isn’t a hospital dear. It’s the county jail. You killed a man last night, hit him with a car. You’re being charged with vehicular manslaughter. Possibly murder.”
“Who-who did I kill?”
“There wasn’t much left to identify him with, but his drivers license claimed he was Damien Harrison.”
No.
The nurse was speaking again.
“…will come see you tomorrow morning. Get some sleep, Mrs. Harrison.”
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
hello sam
When I stepped out of the theatre, the sky had turned completely black. Clouds covered the stars and far in the distance owls hooted. As I looked up and down the deserted street, the paths seemed evermore foreboding and the allies opened like dark mouths to swallow me whole. Perhaps the journey home was best left until morning. There was a hotel across the street and, as this seemed the most logical place for my nights repose, I directed my steps toward the front door.
The clerk at the front desk was anything but welcoming and the room to which he assigned me lacked many of the comforts of home: mainly small articles, such as… a bed. There was only an old mattress with a blanket tossed over it. I briefly considered going back downstairs and out the front door, but memories of the dark allies waiting for me outside would not let me. Instead, they made me double lock the door. I didn’t have anything in the way of luggage and I wanted a pillow to go with my mattress so I opened the closet door to search for one. Instead of the white, fluffy commodity for which I had hoped, a dark figure glided through the opening.
“Hello, Sam.”
The clerk at the front desk was anything but welcoming and the room to which he assigned me lacked many of the comforts of home: mainly small articles, such as… a bed. There was only an old mattress with a blanket tossed over it. I briefly considered going back downstairs and out the front door, but memories of the dark allies waiting for me outside would not let me. Instead, they made me double lock the door. I didn’t have anything in the way of luggage and I wanted a pillow to go with my mattress so I opened the closet door to search for one. Instead of the white, fluffy commodity for which I had hoped, a dark figure glided through the opening.
“Hello, Sam.”
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Childrens book text
It was a perfectly normal day when Ms. Joiner’s class came to school.
They came in, sat down and read books while they waited quietly for their teacher.
Ms. Joiner came in smiling and carrying a rolled-up rug under her arm.
"Hey what's that?" asked the children.
"It's a surprise for all of you!" said Ms. Joiner.
And she placed the rug in the corner of the room.
The students kept looking at the rug and wondering what it could be for.
Finally, Ms. Joiner took the rug and spread it on the floor.
"Come sit in a circle please." she called the children.
They all came running and sat in a circle, just as requested.
"Class, we are going on a field trip today! To all of your favorite places!"
“But how will we get there?” The students wondered.
"On this magic carpet," replied Ms. Joiner.
She sat down with them, and the carpet flew up and away.
And they went to all of the children's favorite places:
Andrew and Isaiah wanted to go to Disney World.
Orion chose Leaping Lizards.
Audrey waned to go to the Humane Society to look at animals.
Richard and Claire said “We want to go to Target, please!”
They stopped at Lindsey’s lake house so she could show them around.
Then Jack C., Kelsey, and Caroline requested to go to the beach.
Cole wanted to go to Toy’s R Us to shop.
Yahiko, Sanaya, and Mary all said “The Mall!”
Malik took them to Chuckee Cheese’s where they played for almost an hour.
Ella’s request was farthest: all the way to Mexico.
Annie loved Stone Mountain and they climbed all the way to the top,
Jack L. asked to go to the park.
Isaac said the playground and the magic carpet took them.
The children were very tired by now.
So Ms. Joiner returned them to school where they arrived just as it was time to go home.
The children made sure to thank their teacher for the wonderful day.
They went home to tell their parents about all their adventures.
They came in, sat down and read books while they waited quietly for their teacher.
Ms. Joiner came in smiling and carrying a rolled-up rug under her arm.
"Hey what's that?" asked the children.
"It's a surprise for all of you!" said Ms. Joiner.
And she placed the rug in the corner of the room.
The students kept looking at the rug and wondering what it could be for.
Finally, Ms. Joiner took the rug and spread it on the floor.
"Come sit in a circle please." she called the children.
They all came running and sat in a circle, just as requested.
"Class, we are going on a field trip today! To all of your favorite places!"
“But how will we get there?” The students wondered.
"On this magic carpet," replied Ms. Joiner.
She sat down with them, and the carpet flew up and away.
And they went to all of the children's favorite places:
Andrew and Isaiah wanted to go to Disney World.
Orion chose Leaping Lizards.
Audrey waned to go to the Humane Society to look at animals.
Richard and Claire said “We want to go to Target, please!”
They stopped at Lindsey’s lake house so she could show them around.
Then Jack C., Kelsey, and Caroline requested to go to the beach.
Cole wanted to go to Toy’s R Us to shop.
Yahiko, Sanaya, and Mary all said “The Mall!”
Malik took them to Chuckee Cheese’s where they played for almost an hour.
Ella’s request was farthest: all the way to Mexico.
Annie loved Stone Mountain and they climbed all the way to the top,
Jack L. asked to go to the park.
Isaac said the playground and the magic carpet took them.
The children were very tired by now.
So Ms. Joiner returned them to school where they arrived just as it was time to go home.
The children made sure to thank their teacher for the wonderful day.
They went home to tell their parents about all their adventures.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Dialogue- Girl
Last night I heard my parents talking. THat conversation was what made me realize I needed to act quickly. I had crept downstairs for a glass of water. Mom was talking.
"She is doing quite well in school."
"Doesn't mean anything." Dad said. "Things like this can be controlled by a crafty enough mind."
"Our offspring is intelligent; not crafty." Mom sounded almost insulted.
"Intelligent enough to be crafty."
Dad sounded upset. I was worried by the fact that he called me crafty.
"What do we do?" Mom had lowered her voice. When Mom's voice dropped, I always knew Dad had won the argument.
"THe only legal thing we can do."
That's my Dad: always obsessed with the "legal thing to do". If the law told him to kill Mom and me, he would have complied.
"We turn her in."
I didn't wait for Mom's reply. I ran upstairs silently and dressed then I climbed out the window and found my way to you.
"She is doing quite well in school."
"Doesn't mean anything." Dad said. "Things like this can be controlled by a crafty enough mind."
"Our offspring is intelligent; not crafty." Mom sounded almost insulted.
"Intelligent enough to be crafty."
Dad sounded upset. I was worried by the fact that he called me crafty.
"What do we do?" Mom had lowered her voice. When Mom's voice dropped, I always knew Dad had won the argument.
"THe only legal thing we can do."
That's my Dad: always obsessed with the "legal thing to do". If the law told him to kill Mom and me, he would have complied.
"We turn her in."
I didn't wait for Mom's reply. I ran upstairs silently and dressed then I climbed out the window and found my way to you.
Monologue- Nurse
THat poor girl. She's been here two days . What can that man be doing? Well, we will know soon huh Sissy? He's supposed to announce his decision today. Of course he will make her go back. At least I hope so. All we need around here is another love-sick doctor trying to hold on to his darling by screwing with the medical record.
How much longer? I want out of this place...I'm just so tired... He won't keep her here. He can't. He knows what will happen if he does. He knows she will catch the disease. Or she will have a breakdown. She doesn't deserve him anyway. Sorry, Sissy. I know I'm boring. You have spent three years listening to me gripe. Hopefully for both f us you wont have to listen to it much longer. I have to get out of here. I'm sick. There's the call. Let's see what Doc's got into his head this time...
How much longer? I want out of this place...I'm just so tired... He won't keep her here. He can't. He knows what will happen if he does. He knows she will catch the disease. Or she will have a breakdown. She doesn't deserve him anyway. Sorry, Sissy. I know I'm boring. You have spent three years listening to me gripe. Hopefully for both f us you wont have to listen to it much longer. I have to get out of here. I'm sick. There's the call. Let's see what Doc's got into his head this time...
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
If only...
The gun gleamed in the pale moonlight. Madison could feel his knees knocking together. Why would she do this? Sweat appeared on his forehead and clung to his soft, dark hair. He wanted to scream. But, like with every other emotion, he held it inside, where it bubbled and seethed. He had never been one to express his feelings.
Maybe that’s why Katherine was after him. But that wasn’t enough reason for murder. They had broken up over 6 months ago. Since then, they hadn’t conversed or really even acknowledged each other. So why this? And why now? Katherine had broken up with him. This couldn’t be his fault.
He still loved her, he realized. He always had and he always would. She had been his first love; his true love. When she had left him, he should have stopped her. He should have taken her in his arms and kissed her and told her he loved her. That’s what he should have done. But instead he had let her walk away. And now she held a gun to his chest.
Finally, Madison forced himself to look her in the eyes. What would he see? Anger? Hatred? No. In her eyes there was only sadness. Sadness tinged by fear. Slowly she lowered the gun from his chest and took a step out of arm’s reach. Madison breathed a sigh of relief. He knew she couldn’t do kill him.
But she was raising the gun again; this time to her own head. It took Madison a minute to realize what her intentions were. No. No she couldn’t. She just couldn’t. Not now. But, as he reached forward to stop her, she pulled the trigger.
The shot echoed through the night and sent a pain, much sharper then that caused by a bullet, into Madison’s heart. Katherine was dead. The only person he had ever really loved was dead. He felt empty.
He knelt beside her and lifted her limp body into his arms. He held her against his chest and for a brief, rare moment, tears fell from his eyes. Even now, she seemed as light as a feather and the familiar sent from her hair made him cry harder. A cold, numbness spread through him; as though he would never feel again.
As he held her close, for the last time, Madison finally said those words which he had truly meant to say all along: “I love you.”
Maybe that’s why Katherine was after him. But that wasn’t enough reason for murder. They had broken up over 6 months ago. Since then, they hadn’t conversed or really even acknowledged each other. So why this? And why now? Katherine had broken up with him. This couldn’t be his fault.
He still loved her, he realized. He always had and he always would. She had been his first love; his true love. When she had left him, he should have stopped her. He should have taken her in his arms and kissed her and told her he loved her. That’s what he should have done. But instead he had let her walk away. And now she held a gun to his chest.
Finally, Madison forced himself to look her in the eyes. What would he see? Anger? Hatred? No. In her eyes there was only sadness. Sadness tinged by fear. Slowly she lowered the gun from his chest and took a step out of arm’s reach. Madison breathed a sigh of relief. He knew she couldn’t do kill him.
But she was raising the gun again; this time to her own head. It took Madison a minute to realize what her intentions were. No. No she couldn’t. She just couldn’t. Not now. But, as he reached forward to stop her, she pulled the trigger.
The shot echoed through the night and sent a pain, much sharper then that caused by a bullet, into Madison’s heart. Katherine was dead. The only person he had ever really loved was dead. He felt empty.
He knelt beside her and lifted her limp body into his arms. He held her against his chest and for a brief, rare moment, tears fell from his eyes. Even now, she seemed as light as a feather and the familiar sent from her hair made him cry harder. A cold, numbness spread through him; as though he would never feel again.
As he held her close, for the last time, Madison finally said those words which he had truly meant to say all along: “I love you.”
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Relative Normality - Story Commitment
Relative Normality
It was a cold night on Io, one of Jupiter’s moons. Of course, all nights were cold there so this was not unexpected. The moon’s surface was still, but far below, at a very precisely calculated distance from the core, cities thrived. Of course it was perfectly calculated. Everything was perfectly calculated here. The architecture, the food, the lights, even the people were fitted to a perfect stereotype. All were conformed to the same body structure; all had the same shade of dark, straight brown hair that was kept short so as not impede their Work.
Work was the only thing different about these people, if they could be called people. Their biological readings were all precisely the same: body temperature, heartbeat, red blood cell count, everything. Each was a perfectly designed living machine, and each was built for a special purpose.
Even a large chunk of their brains were the same. This was the latest technology and, even though it was not quite perfected, the Developers were still quite proud of it. They were told to be proud by the computer that controlled the large portion of their brains and so they were proud. Part of the brain, however, could not be conformed or shut down or removed without killing or severely damaging its owner. Experiments had been done to prove this. And so it was put into hibernation. The Developers were still highly pleased with their results. The process worked 99% of the time: excellent reading for a first run.
No one had ever bothered to inquire what happened to the other one percent who the process did not work on. You certainly never saw them after they began to show problem signs. At least I never saw them again.
But granted for a long time the process worked on me too. I may have been seeing them and just been told that they were figments of my imagination. But I know for certain what happened after I began to remember. Don’t give me that look Doctor. I see that red pen working away like mad. You just don’t know…
I don’t remember much before I was 13. I suppose I was just like everyone else, with my short brown hair and brown eyes; my flat chest, long legs, and pale skin. But it was at 13 that I began to change. It started with my fingernails. They began to grow. Since all our nails were designed to be a specific length, they should remain basically the same throughout a person’s life. So when mine started to grow, I didn’t think anything of it at first. Minor problems sometimes happened at the onset of puberty. They went away in 3-4 months and were nothing to lose sleep over. But then it came to my 14th birthday. Birthdays were not a celebration: we went to an office, filled out some papers, and were considered a year older. My problems hadn’t gone away by then though. In fact, they got worse. My hair had started to grow too. I was scared. Funny that fear is the first emotion I remember. Does that mean anything Doctor? Well, I suppose it really doesn’t matter. I was so scared that I went and got a pair of scissors and began to cut my hair and nails. I performed this ritual almost weekly, in the dead of night, frightened that someone would awake and hear the “snip snip” and discover my secret. After my “crime” was complete I would hide the scraps down the garbage disposal.
I began to think. Actually think. For myself. That was the most frightening: that I had thoughts and feelings that no one else shared. I wanted to grow my hair out. I began crying when I had to cut it. I was tired of the drab grey that everyone wore. I was tired of looking like everyone else and doing everything I was told. That was the time that this new program came out. The one you are part of Doctor. I was desperate. I really thought I was crazy. I was mostly managing to control myself, but at the same time, I knew I wasn’t far from exposing myself. Yesterday, I snuck out of my house and decided not to come back until I had control of this situation. I wanted help. And I knew that if I wanted help, I would have to get it before my parents found out. They were normal. They would turn me in. They would take me to THEM! Don’t let them do that! Doctor please! It’s not my fault! HELP! Oh. Oh Doctor I’m very sorry to have attacked you like that. I guess I lost control. It’s getting worse. You must see my problem? Surely you can help me? I can’t keep going like this… Is there anything you can do?
Doctor, when I was waiting for you outside, I heard a nurse speaking to someone on the phone. She said “We will not punish here. This is a haven for the diseased.” What did she mean Doctor? What disease? What punishment? What’s wrong with me? Are you going to kill me? I suppose it’s no wonder I’m scared.
Why are you looking at me that way? You’re like me aren’t you? You’re different. Why doesn’t anyone know? You are a government employee right? It’s because you can hide it… Is that what you do here; help people learn to hide their differences? You’re going to help me learn. Then I go back home like everything is normal and pretend I never saw you. Well maybe I don’t want to! Maybe I don’t want to be normal! I won’t go back.
But you’re nodding. Why? You don’t take me seriously do you? STOP LAUGHING! Oh. Sorry. You’re right, I do need help. Ok, I’ll come with you. Where are we going? I suppose it really doesn’t matter though. Ooooo this place looks comfortable. What? This is my room? I get to stay here? Yes! Oh thank you! Thank you so very much! Wait. What’s this? I don’t like needles. Don’t stick that in me! OW! I’m scared! What’s going on?! Am I crazy Doctor?
Epilogue
As I stood over the unconscious body of the girl, I almost felt sad. Almost. I had trained myself to control my emotions. I could pass for Normal any day. But there was something about this girl… Out of all the cases like this that I had treated, she was the only one who had wanted my help. She was the only one to come voluntarily. Why? I would try to find out when I ran tests on her. The tests would determine the type of operation she needed. After the procedure, she would be returned to her family who would undergo a memory wipe and all would be back to normal.
The poor girl. She would never know the answers to her questions. I had wanted to tell her. How yes, I was like her and how the government was the scary monster under the bed that she had believed it to be. It was only through them that people like her and me had any chance at a normal life. I would have loved that life. Her protests and the protests of the others were something I had to work hard to understand. Didn’t they understand how much better that life would be? I often had craved that life; quiet, peaceful, going around doing just as you were told. You never had to stress or worry or make any hard choices. They just didn’t understand. I would have had the procedure if I could, but a strange blood type (Type Q) and a contaminated bone marrow had prevented it. Old records called my disease as Osteoporosis.
The girl had fallen with her eyes closed. For a moment I allowed my emotions to run free, though I knew I would regret it. She was beautiful. Had she been allowed to be different, she would have been the most sought after woman on Io. But women are not sought after on Io. They are assigned or rationed, but never sought after. My heart beat slightly faster as I looked at this girl. If only… I had never felt so far away from something that I desired. Suddenly I knew I couldn’t perform this procedure. I couldn’t turn this girl back into what she didn’t want to be.
Then the rational part of me took back over. I had tests to perform. I took her to the examining room and placer her inside the HyberTube. I set the machine to run the tests, then sat down to wait. I may have fallen asleep because the machine finished the tests very quickly. I went to the screen to look at them. For a moment, I couldn’t move. I checked the screen and ran back up tests to make sure. I even did something a little old fashioned and drew some of the girl’s blood to test. The results were confirmed. Blood type Q.
It was a cold night on Io, one of Jupiter’s moons. Of course, all nights were cold there so this was not unexpected. The moon’s surface was still, but far below, at a very precisely calculated distance from the core, cities thrived. Of course it was perfectly calculated. Everything was perfectly calculated here. The architecture, the food, the lights, even the people were fitted to a perfect stereotype. All were conformed to the same body structure; all had the same shade of dark, straight brown hair that was kept short so as not impede their Work.
Work was the only thing different about these people, if they could be called people. Their biological readings were all precisely the same: body temperature, heartbeat, red blood cell count, everything. Each was a perfectly designed living machine, and each was built for a special purpose.
Even a large chunk of their brains were the same. This was the latest technology and, even though it was not quite perfected, the Developers were still quite proud of it. They were told to be proud by the computer that controlled the large portion of their brains and so they were proud. Part of the brain, however, could not be conformed or shut down or removed without killing or severely damaging its owner. Experiments had been done to prove this. And so it was put into hibernation. The Developers were still highly pleased with their results. The process worked 99% of the time: excellent reading for a first run.
No one had ever bothered to inquire what happened to the other one percent who the process did not work on. You certainly never saw them after they began to show problem signs. At least I never saw them again.
But granted for a long time the process worked on me too. I may have been seeing them and just been told that they were figments of my imagination. But I know for certain what happened after I began to remember. Don’t give me that look Doctor. I see that red pen working away like mad. You just don’t know…
I don’t remember much before I was 13. I suppose I was just like everyone else, with my short brown hair and brown eyes; my flat chest, long legs, and pale skin. But it was at 13 that I began to change. It started with my fingernails. They began to grow. Since all our nails were designed to be a specific length, they should remain basically the same throughout a person’s life. So when mine started to grow, I didn’t think anything of it at first. Minor problems sometimes happened at the onset of puberty. They went away in 3-4 months and were nothing to lose sleep over. But then it came to my 14th birthday. Birthdays were not a celebration: we went to an office, filled out some papers, and were considered a year older. My problems hadn’t gone away by then though. In fact, they got worse. My hair had started to grow too. I was scared. Funny that fear is the first emotion I remember. Does that mean anything Doctor? Well, I suppose it really doesn’t matter. I was so scared that I went and got a pair of scissors and began to cut my hair and nails. I performed this ritual almost weekly, in the dead of night, frightened that someone would awake and hear the “snip snip” and discover my secret. After my “crime” was complete I would hide the scraps down the garbage disposal.
I began to think. Actually think. For myself. That was the most frightening: that I had thoughts and feelings that no one else shared. I wanted to grow my hair out. I began crying when I had to cut it. I was tired of the drab grey that everyone wore. I was tired of looking like everyone else and doing everything I was told. That was the time that this new program came out. The one you are part of Doctor. I was desperate. I really thought I was crazy. I was mostly managing to control myself, but at the same time, I knew I wasn’t far from exposing myself. Yesterday, I snuck out of my house and decided not to come back until I had control of this situation. I wanted help. And I knew that if I wanted help, I would have to get it before my parents found out. They were normal. They would turn me in. They would take me to THEM! Don’t let them do that! Doctor please! It’s not my fault! HELP! Oh. Oh Doctor I’m very sorry to have attacked you like that. I guess I lost control. It’s getting worse. You must see my problem? Surely you can help me? I can’t keep going like this… Is there anything you can do?
Doctor, when I was waiting for you outside, I heard a nurse speaking to someone on the phone. She said “We will not punish here. This is a haven for the diseased.” What did she mean Doctor? What disease? What punishment? What’s wrong with me? Are you going to kill me? I suppose it’s no wonder I’m scared.
Why are you looking at me that way? You’re like me aren’t you? You’re different. Why doesn’t anyone know? You are a government employee right? It’s because you can hide it… Is that what you do here; help people learn to hide their differences? You’re going to help me learn. Then I go back home like everything is normal and pretend I never saw you. Well maybe I don’t want to! Maybe I don’t want to be normal! I won’t go back.
But you’re nodding. Why? You don’t take me seriously do you? STOP LAUGHING! Oh. Sorry. You’re right, I do need help. Ok, I’ll come with you. Where are we going? I suppose it really doesn’t matter though. Ooooo this place looks comfortable. What? This is my room? I get to stay here? Yes! Oh thank you! Thank you so very much! Wait. What’s this? I don’t like needles. Don’t stick that in me! OW! I’m scared! What’s going on?! Am I crazy Doctor?
Epilogue
As I stood over the unconscious body of the girl, I almost felt sad. Almost. I had trained myself to control my emotions. I could pass for Normal any day. But there was something about this girl… Out of all the cases like this that I had treated, she was the only one who had wanted my help. She was the only one to come voluntarily. Why? I would try to find out when I ran tests on her. The tests would determine the type of operation she needed. After the procedure, she would be returned to her family who would undergo a memory wipe and all would be back to normal.
The poor girl. She would never know the answers to her questions. I had wanted to tell her. How yes, I was like her and how the government was the scary monster under the bed that she had believed it to be. It was only through them that people like her and me had any chance at a normal life. I would have loved that life. Her protests and the protests of the others were something I had to work hard to understand. Didn’t they understand how much better that life would be? I often had craved that life; quiet, peaceful, going around doing just as you were told. You never had to stress or worry or make any hard choices. They just didn’t understand. I would have had the procedure if I could, but a strange blood type (Type Q) and a contaminated bone marrow had prevented it. Old records called my disease as Osteoporosis.
The girl had fallen with her eyes closed. For a moment I allowed my emotions to run free, though I knew I would regret it. She was beautiful. Had she been allowed to be different, she would have been the most sought after woman on Io. But women are not sought after on Io. They are assigned or rationed, but never sought after. My heart beat slightly faster as I looked at this girl. If only… I had never felt so far away from something that I desired. Suddenly I knew I couldn’t perform this procedure. I couldn’t turn this girl back into what she didn’t want to be.
Then the rational part of me took back over. I had tests to perform. I took her to the examining room and placer her inside the HyberTube. I set the machine to run the tests, then sat down to wait. I may have fallen asleep because the machine finished the tests very quickly. I went to the screen to look at them. For a moment, I couldn’t move. I checked the screen and ran back up tests to make sure. I even did something a little old fashioned and drew some of the girl’s blood to test. The results were confirmed. Blood type Q.
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