It was certainly a delight reading last month's entries- although I am afraid I can no longer rid the name Terry from my mind. It was difficult choosing a winner when the options were two quite excellent stories. International Worker's Day by Jiku Neon delighted me when I discovered Terry's gender and was written in a rather obscure manner; I was almost confused but the story came out true in the end and it felt good to emphasize with a character that speaks of death in such an offhand-ish fashion. The winner, however, was What? with Teashades. His story was written in the pompous prose that both authors favour, but the latter made me laugh just that little bit more. Each sentence just seems to suggest humor, no matter the content. Perhaps it is the tasteful overuse of adjectives or the way I find precision when describing rather funny. Either way, Terry's tale was quite a good one to read(although my eyes hurt from squinting). Wow, I spent longer than usual commenting. This month's theme is Nightmares. Deadline is the end of this month<3
What a Pleasant Nightmare Warm summer sunbeams saturated the room with a caressing morning light. In the middle of this AM hour greeting, the awakening of Danielle disturbed the placid scene, her face drenched in sweat, her breath accelerated to an alarming rate. But as quickly as she burst out of her sleep, she returned to normal. She got out of bed and got ready to meet her friend Michael, as per her usual daily routine. She walked out, greeted by the cool "hello" of a summer breeze. She returned the gesture with a small grin and headed down the block to the park where she and Michael would meet everyday at 10 AM. Never a minute off. Past the cloned brick houses evenly spaced along the suburban terrace, past the white picket fences and the adolescent oak trees just large enough to provide a refreshing shade, but not quite large enough to scale for a better view of the quaint setting. "Hey, stranger!" she yelled to Michael as he walked towards the park at the same rate as she did from the opposite direction. "Hey there!" Michael replied with even more energy. The two met and hugged like they hadn't seen each other in years. They were always immensely happy to see each other. "How did you sleep?" Michael asked. "Not so well," replied Danielle in a tone that could cool the hot summer air, "I had that dream again." "Not again." Michael replied, concern saturating his words, "The exact same?" "Almost," answered Danielle, "It started out the way it normally does, with me waking up in a cold room, greeted by a tall old woman yelling at me. This time she beat me more than she normally does." Michael looked at her with a frown. He took her back into his embrace in hopes of consoling her. "It's just a nightmare, you're safe here in the real world with me. Remember that." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her smile reemerge from hiding. He grinned and let her go slowly, "So what are we up to today? Movies? Biking? Your pick!" Danielle thought intently and finally said with a smile as refreshing as the shade around them, "A movie sounds lovely, actually." Michael smiled even wider and took her by the hand. "Come on then! We're gonna miss the next showing!" Suddenly Danielle ran at an alarmingly fast pace, laughing playfully at Michael all the while. Michael jokingly lagged behind as she led the way. After a few minutes, Danielle stopped laughing and started to cough lightly. She covered it up with her free hand and continued to run, only to notice her pace was coming to a sluggish jog. Her coughing became more violent, and finally she fell to her knees. Everything went black. *** Everything was hazy. Danielle's bones felt as if they were on the verge of snapping from the sheer coldness of the room. "M-Michael?" called out weakly. From the bed, she saw a looming shadow approaching in the hallway. A rather tall, older looking woman lurked over her bed. "Out! You lazy child, you've overslept fifteen minutes!" she yelled, her voice colder than the chilling air of the room. "Where... Where is Michael?" she asked, ignoring her scolding. "Michael doesn't exist here, foolish girl! Now get up and get to work, or you'll have a date with my cane." She slowly pulled the covers off; she was so cold and tired that it was the fastest she could do it. Not accepting this, she violently pulled Danielle out of the bed and pushed her towards the door. "Pick up the broom, first on the agenda is cleaning the halls; they're absolutely disgusting! No doubt because of you, you slob!" barked the old woman mercilessly at Danielle. "Michael..." she muttered frailly as she picked up the broom that looked to be almost as old as the woman spurting orders at her. She walked into the halls and started sweeping. "I'm going to wake up the others, this hallway better be spotless when I get back!" She started to do as she was told, but shortly after the old woman left the room, she dropped the broom as if it were a lead weight and sat on the side of the corridor, weeping. She sat and wept for what felt like hours, thinking about Michael, wondering why he wasn't there. Finally, the old woman returned with two large men. They were absolutely horrifying in masks and striking uniforms. The old woman yelled something to the two men. She couldn't make anything of it through her helpless cries, but at that very moment, the two large men grabbed her by the arms. She started to cry harder, pleading for Michael. *** She awoke. She was in a very strange place, white everywhere, from the walls to the attire of the men and women waking about. This place was much larger than the room she was used to, but she felt surprisingly at peace. She looked to her side and saw Michael crying in hysterics. "M-Michael?" She inquired weakly. Michael looked up from his crying. "Danielle!" he exclaimed, practically tackling her from his kneeling position beside her bed. He recoiled instantly, afraid to hurt her after what had happened. "Are you alright?" "I'm fine... What happened?" she asked, confused as she was relieved. "You collapsed in the middle of the street yesterday. I brought you to the hospital as fast as I could, but the doctors said they couldn't do anything more to help you aside from giving you some meds... they said we'd just have to wait..." He embraced her again. "I've never been happier to hear your voice." A tear ran down Danielle's cheek. "Michael..." Michael looked her in the eye through both of their tears. "Danielle... I cherish you so much. This whole thing has made me realize how important you are to me... I've never been able to think up the right words without being cliche, but I-" Everything paused. From the clocks on the walls to Michael's lips in mid sentence. "M-Michael?" The color in his face faded to gray. The light blue on her shirt started to diminish as well. The world around her started to melt away to nothing as she held close to Michael. The walls started to become deformed like the running colors of an oil painting. She and Michael were the only two things that weren't degrading to nothing. Finally, as she lost grip of everything else in her world, Michael began to fade into the abyss that surrounded her. She screamed for him as his image left her eyes, leaving tears in its place. Through her cries for him to return, she faded into sleep. *** "Anything?" the old woman asked. "Sorry, Nurse Penelope. She won't stop repeating that name." replied one of the large men at Danielle's side. Danielle's eyes began to open. She noticed that she had been saying Michael's name the entire time she was waking up, and continued to say it, trying to call him back to her. She found her arms and legs wouldn't move; they were bound in a straight jacket. "Some people just can't be helped." the other large man said somberly. "You'd think that lobotomy would have made her a bit more reasonable... Put her back in her cell then. I have people with a moderate chance at functioning normally to attend to." the old woman replied coldly. "Yes, ma'am." both men said at once, as they gently placed Danielle into a wheelchair. They brought her to her cell and put her in as she continued to mutter "Michael." They slammed the unforgiving metal door and locked it quickly, cutting her off mid phrase as she called out to him again. She stayed awake all night, asking for Michael.
That is quite interesting and rather unintentional, perhaps a parapraxis of my own writing style, I suppose. Thank you, Harriet, although I am still in debate as to on what basis my story actually succeeded in certain factors. Jiku was, as always, an excellent competitor; I commemorate to you an internet handshake of good sportsmanship. Work should die down after tomorrow due to my final presentation of my science project so I may finally be able to focus on a story at a time that is not a day after the proper deadline. As such, this post shall suffice as a reservation post.
I offer my utmost congratulations to everyone's favorite interrogative member on his success in this most recently passed month's contest. I called it. Never had a nightmare in my life that I can actually remember having; therefore, this is looking like another fictionalize as we go month. I look forward to not having anymore serious examinations after this coming Monday. More Obvious Edit: Love, Kisses and Nitric Acid Spoiler Eight forked paths diverged in the woods. Two remained parallel as they progressed. The were close enough to hold hands, so they did. The left was a bright and polite girl and greeted the right. “Hello. I’m Adagio Adage. You can call me Addie.” She came to a stop and told him with her hand extended. “I don’t know who you are so I can’t remember my name.” The right told her sadly as he took her hand and continued walking until he realized she wasn’t following and tripped over himself and fell. “Really?” She asked without taking much notice. “Yes.” He assured her as he got to his feet. “You can be Kievan Russia because everyone needs to be someone with a name.” She explained methodically. “I can be Russia because that’s my name.” Russia replied to Addie as if struck by an epiphany. “Really?” She asked without taking much notice. “Yes!” He replied as if struck by another epiphany. “So where are you from Russia?” She asked as he rubbed his head from where he kept on getting struck with epiphanies. “Georgia Prather. I think I’m from it. But first, where am I?” Russia said with a quick glance around at his surroundings. “I’m in Soviet Swaziland. You’re two feet from me so you must be in it too.” Addie reasoned aloud. “I don’t know Addie. That sounds suspect.” Russia replied doubtfully. “But I never committed a crime. So I can’t be one.” Addie replied deftly. “True. Maybe I am in Swaziland after all.” Russia conceded with a sigh. “Hey me too!” Addie exclaimed as she looked at the sudden third party in the sigh before it evaporated into smoke. “I never thought we’d be talking to each other in the same place like this after the way we first met.” Russia declared in a declamatory fashion before realizing that he shouldn’t be declaring or declaiming, but rather simply saying. “I thought this was our first meeting.” Addie replied, perplexed and confounded by the strange utterance of her partner in walking. For now they had been walking for the past few exchanges of words and holding hands again all the way. “That’s odd because I remember it as if it were yesterday.” Russia said, rubbing his shoulder in thought. “Yesterday I was in Nationalist Tibetinland and you were not there so I think we must have met today.” Addie explained with authoritative control of logic and reason. Both of whom were not always the most compliant of allies. “Or earlier than yesterday.” Russia corrected her. “But we’ve only met just now. I told you I was Adagio Adage. You can call me Addie. Then I told you that you were Kievan Russia so you’d have a name because you knew who I was.” Addie returned the metaphorical ball to Russia’s metaphorical court with her metaphorical sports Morgenstern. “Yes, yes. That is what happened earlier today. It must have been our first meeting if we were introducing ourselves.” Russia admitted, utterly convinced. “That’s right. So we did only meet just today.” Addie affirmed so he’d not forget so easily. Russia seemed a bit scatterbrained so it would be good to make sure he didn’t forget anything. “I suppose that can be the only possibility.” “Though, I feel as if I’ve known you for longer than that.” Addie mused as they passed their hands, with some trouble, through the branches of a tree between their respective paths. “Me too, Addie.” Russia agreed because he knew Addie was right. For many more minutes they walked through the forest and got to know each other even better than they already had gotten to know each other previously. They were quite the pair those two paths that wound through the woods in perfect parallel and occasionally crossed paths and asked how the trip had been so far. However, the purple trees soon ended and the paths became disentwined. “It looks like we diverge here.” Addie was crestfallen but resolute. “But I don’t want to, Addie.” Russia whined. “Russia. What can we do about it then?” She asked without thinking. “What if I just follow you?” Russia inquired seriously as his silly looking face could allow. “But I’m going to Dlandanistan where the Canon lives.” Addie replied without looking at him. “What’s the Canon?” Russia inquired seriously, again, as his silly looking face could allow. “It repeats itself and is not very good. I don’t think that I’d like you being so close to it.” Addie explained worriedly. “Then why are you going close to it? I think I don’t want you near something that isn’t very good either!” Russia shouted in a tizzy of his flustered frustration. “Russia. There’s nothing I can do about it.” Addie replied resignedly. “Why?” “Because I just have to go. Sometimes things are just like that.” “Then I also just have to go. I will follow you, wherever you go.” Russia stated resolutely. “That’s really sweet Russia. Please stay safe though.” She said as she took his hand even tighter in her own and led that way into the Dlandanistan where the Canon lives. The paths were long and hard but Russia and Addie stayed strong and they stayed together. As they come up upon the Canon Addie grew nervous and started turning off of the path towards Russia before finally coming to a shaky stop. “What is it Addie? Is the Canon close?” Russia asked perplexedly. “Yes, it’s really close. I never should have let you come.” Addie answered in weary melancholy. “But if the two of us had diverged along other paths then—“ Russia felt his hand drop. “I know. I’d be sad too, Russia. You’re very important to me now. We’ve known each other for a whole day now. But, this wasn’t something for me to decide from the beginning.” Addie turned away abruptly and wouldn’t look at Russia for a moment. This scared him. “What do you mean?” Russia was worried about Addie and it showed in the color of his face and sounded in the tone of his voice. “My path leads to the Canon and that’s where it goes.” Addie said as she turned to face him with a forced smile. “Then walk on mine.” Russia pleaded. “Do you know where it goes?” Taken aback the polite girl responded more rudely than she’d like to have. “Wherever I can be next to you. And also, on my path we don’t have to stand two feet apart anymore. What do you think?” “I don’t know what to say. Russia, are you sure I can leave my path?” She asked unsurely. “Nope. But I’m sure I can’t leave you.” Russia said extending his hand for the last time. Suddenly, there was a great shake of the earth and a surprised Dmitri’s eyes snapped open in the dusky light that filtered through the falling ash and snow. He woke only just in time to catch the staff sergeant’s hand, which he quickly dropped as he dove for cover from the tank fire. That’s when he remembered amidst the sounds of German shouts and Nazi explosions where he was: Stalingrad.
