spirits breath
11-16-2009, 06:54 PM
That night…the night. I don’t know how I could have been that self centered son-of-a-bitch that let her go like that. I can’t believe myself for that. She trusted me…was a good friend to me… and she loved me. I should have done something about it. I shouldn’t have brought her to that club, I hardly knew her and I brought her to the club. I didn't know her, but being a teenager looking to fulfill a raging sex drive that pulled me into a club with Violet. I punched the wall, closing my eyes as I did so. The pain was immense, small drips of blood going down my knuckles onto the smooth floor. It was a welcome pain, I felt like I deserved it. That and so much more.
I felt my blood begin to boil, anger rising in myself one again. Smell factor barged into my room, acting innocently as always. "Why are you hitting the wall, you trying to kill a bug?"
I lashed out, not violently, but yelling. "Get the fuck out! Now! I cannot deal with your shit, and if the door is closed, then keep it closed." The door closed heavily, small sobs were heard that slowly faded, then another door slammed.
Why is this happening? She is dead, you played no part in it. The feed was rusting as it was and it was a hazard before I even saw her in the first place.
I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, the owner of them was definitely either worried or ticked off. they faded off to the distance towards smell factor's room. Why can't that kid just leave me alone?
He is so nosy that he has to bother me, and then tells dad. And he wonders why I am a jerk to him all the time... he deserves it.
The time moved slower, my heart seemed to race faster than it was before. My body gradually tried to calm itself down, only a release of adrenalin kicked in again as the pain heightened. My right hand was a beat red, swelling up a little bit and I couldn't move it without another surge of pain. Must have been a sprain at worst.
My father tackled the door in, a little overdose of the needed force needed to get in. A simple lean against it from him would have made the door start to warp inwards and soon enough split roughly. But when he came in, he had the look, that look that told me that I was screwed. He breathed heavily, barking out a few words in a sentence. "Who in the living hell do you think you are? He is just a kid, just because you had some realization that it was your fault, don't take it out on him." He looked at my face, and then looked at my hand, dripping bright red droplets onto the floor. He calmed, some fatherly instincts happening in a part of his brain that caused anger. He chuckled to himself, his large shoulders bouncing up and down as he laughed. "Looks like you have taken good care of yourself." He laughed outwardly now. "Didn't your feed tell you that a wall is a solid, or did it tell you it was Jell-O?" He laughed a few more times before wrapping a arm over my neck. His voice grew serious. "Lets get you to the hospital, get that patched up and then we can figure out a punishment."
My mother, giving a horrified look. she loved me, and when an injury came into play she became a super over watch. Hell I wouldn't be surprised if she even gave me some pain pills and a glass of water to swallow them. Smell factor was seen as I continued walking down towards the open door ahead of me. Then it happened... her face went from that soft caring look to the look that I deserved that for yelling at her precious little child.
The car ride was silent, the radio was off. Which was surprising to me, because my dad loved country music...or more commonly known as snore music. "Dad. Look, I had to yell at him it is the only way he learns. If your door was closed, would you want him coming in when thumps were heard on the wall?"
My dads face blushed a bit as he laughed at the reference. "No I wouldn't. I can understand that part, and you wonder why we give you money to go to the movies and I gave you the up car for your girlfriend, what’s her name. But Jesus, why did you punch the wall of all things?"
My heart seemed to skip a few beats as I realized my idiocracy to punching a solid wall that might have some of my blood on its pearly surface. My tone dropped, more light hearted than earlier. "Guess I just had to hit something, something to hit back and teach me. I shouldn't have brought Violet to the club, but well... you know how it is."
My father placed his left hand on my right shoulder. "Yea I do, and I say it is better to punch a wall than to hit your little brother. But tell me why do you always call him smell factor? He showers more often than you do. That’s for sure.
"That isn't the point. He is just annoying and it stinks off of him. Send him to some informational meeting. It stinks that we have to put up with his little shows with the talking animals that sing. That is why he is called smell factor, it is a series of annoying things that stinks to put up with, and we all have to put up with it." My voice became louder as I finished my little rant.
Moments later, we arrived at the hospital. The same hospital I was at when I was hacked. The same null peace of crap hospital that I had to sit in without use of my feed and a null picture of a freaking boat with nothing else to look at. I, or I should say everyone there could see white coated doctors and nurses running around at Olympic record speeds. A open row of seats without other patients invited us in with a call. Telling us of its beauty and to take the opportunity as soon as it can be as someone else may take it. My father walked quickly to the front desk, a young nurse…a smoking hot nurse.
I couldn’t help but think of her. Man, her beach blonde hair just brings out the blue in her eyes. Come on, get that paperwork. Oh damn those are nice! Dang it dad get out of the way. Gah, dang it! I just witnessed Violets death, and here I am thinking of the hot nurse’s cleavage and she is about 15 years older than me to top it off.
My father walked back to me, a strut with heavy caution. Around him was several people who looked just plain scary. A man, about in his thirties. He had something with his legs they twitched violently and bone seemed to pop outside of the small amount of muscle, he was a walking skeleton from the hip down. Another was a woman, her face was burned into my eyes. Her entire face was ripped off. Her nose was gone, the white bone visible with threads of flesh over small parts of it. Her eyes were little slits. The only good parts of her face was the middle of her small strips of white skin that remained over the swollen faceless face.
My eyes watered, and pain returned to my hand. My brain must have ran out of its drugs. Or what I assumed was it was burned out. I leaned over to my dad and whispered to him. “She scares the hell out of me. And her face is embedded in my brain.” I felt like an asshole, a meg asshole for saying that. But how does that happen?
My dad’s face looked at the ceiling, in some out of mindset. He was listening to
the snore music now. His gentle rocking and taps of his fingers against his kneecaps became annoying quickly. I searched my feed for something, anything.
A woman’s voice was heard and lights flickered up in the distance. “Hello my name is Anya with Feed Network customer service. We are sorry for the loss of Violet. Would you like to erase her last message? It was almost done sending before she died.”
“Yes. Yeah Let me hear it.”
The woman disappeared and a small quick time looking play bar popped up. A soft, weak sounding voice with a small hum in the background began to play. “Titus, I know what happened between us wasn’t that great. Look I am sorry but why didn’t you come back to be with me? I am just about done here, just live life and please try and make sure this never happens again to someone else. And you were the.” The audio log ended.
Damn, she still loved me even after I left her to die. Stupid, stupid. Why did I leave here? Just because of some stupid argument over nothing. I should have said I was sorry, visited her, even respond to her chats. Why did I have to try and push her away so fast?
My father pushed my head a few times. “Time to go. We’re up.” A heavy grunt escaped my mouth as I went up. I stared at the floor, that as well as the nurses lower back. I was lead into a clear room, standard doctors set up. Small single bed, a red-orange bio hazard box full of used needles. The null picture of the sail boat hanging on the wall. And at the side was a picture of a male without skin, showing the muscle groups. It was torn here and there with some darker holes around it.
The doctor walked in, stared at me and then the picture of the man. His head shook in disappointment. “Lets see here… fractured bones, swelling, and bleeding. Punched a meat mallet didn’t you?”
“Sort of. More like a wall.” I looked at my feet.
“Now you know you have a strong wall. Hey the nurse over there is looking at you.” Titus looked over to where the doctor was looking, only to feel a needle in his shoulder and a sleepy sensation washing over him.
“She wasn’t looking. You lied to m…”
The doctor pushed him to a pair of male nurses in blue scrubs and masks on. They wheeled him into a brightly lit room, a room that couldn’t cast a shadow anywhere bright. An hour passed by, some sort of work was done to align the bones again. I later awoke in a dimmer room with some older woman asking me what color cast I wanted. Blue, green, pink, or white. I instantly responded blue. The green and pink were too girly, and white was just bare nothingness. The coating of some soft cushions were matted on my skin, and the blue wrap went on quicker than I thought possible as if she had machine hands and arms. She made me keep my hand still for ten minutes as a fan dried the cast into a nice solid mold.
She motioned for us to leave, handing my father a pamphlet on what not to do with the cast and blah, blah, blah of the other crap ladled on it. My father and I left the hospital, ending the experience. He tried telling me about his olden days stories…luckily I had music to block his tale. That was all I heard the whole way home, where I went into my room to sleep on my bed for the day and night. Too tired to get back at smell factor for causing my door to have a nice hole in it.
((well, thats it. Only needed a few pages double spaced. I doubled it. Hoping for a hundred after my video was just dumped due to lack of needed filming time.))
I felt my blood begin to boil, anger rising in myself one again. Smell factor barged into my room, acting innocently as always. "Why are you hitting the wall, you trying to kill a bug?"
I lashed out, not violently, but yelling. "Get the fuck out! Now! I cannot deal with your shit, and if the door is closed, then keep it closed." The door closed heavily, small sobs were heard that slowly faded, then another door slammed.
Why is this happening? She is dead, you played no part in it. The feed was rusting as it was and it was a hazard before I even saw her in the first place.
I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, the owner of them was definitely either worried or ticked off. they faded off to the distance towards smell factor's room. Why can't that kid just leave me alone?
He is so nosy that he has to bother me, and then tells dad. And he wonders why I am a jerk to him all the time... he deserves it.
The time moved slower, my heart seemed to race faster than it was before. My body gradually tried to calm itself down, only a release of adrenalin kicked in again as the pain heightened. My right hand was a beat red, swelling up a little bit and I couldn't move it without another surge of pain. Must have been a sprain at worst.
My father tackled the door in, a little overdose of the needed force needed to get in. A simple lean against it from him would have made the door start to warp inwards and soon enough split roughly. But when he came in, he had the look, that look that told me that I was screwed. He breathed heavily, barking out a few words in a sentence. "Who in the living hell do you think you are? He is just a kid, just because you had some realization that it was your fault, don't take it out on him." He looked at my face, and then looked at my hand, dripping bright red droplets onto the floor. He calmed, some fatherly instincts happening in a part of his brain that caused anger. He chuckled to himself, his large shoulders bouncing up and down as he laughed. "Looks like you have taken good care of yourself." He laughed outwardly now. "Didn't your feed tell you that a wall is a solid, or did it tell you it was Jell-O?" He laughed a few more times before wrapping a arm over my neck. His voice grew serious. "Lets get you to the hospital, get that patched up and then we can figure out a punishment."
My mother, giving a horrified look. she loved me, and when an injury came into play she became a super over watch. Hell I wouldn't be surprised if she even gave me some pain pills and a glass of water to swallow them. Smell factor was seen as I continued walking down towards the open door ahead of me. Then it happened... her face went from that soft caring look to the look that I deserved that for yelling at her precious little child.
The car ride was silent, the radio was off. Which was surprising to me, because my dad loved country music...or more commonly known as snore music. "Dad. Look, I had to yell at him it is the only way he learns. If your door was closed, would you want him coming in when thumps were heard on the wall?"
My dads face blushed a bit as he laughed at the reference. "No I wouldn't. I can understand that part, and you wonder why we give you money to go to the movies and I gave you the up car for your girlfriend, what’s her name. But Jesus, why did you punch the wall of all things?"
My heart seemed to skip a few beats as I realized my idiocracy to punching a solid wall that might have some of my blood on its pearly surface. My tone dropped, more light hearted than earlier. "Guess I just had to hit something, something to hit back and teach me. I shouldn't have brought Violet to the club, but well... you know how it is."
My father placed his left hand on my right shoulder. "Yea I do, and I say it is better to punch a wall than to hit your little brother. But tell me why do you always call him smell factor? He showers more often than you do. That’s for sure.
"That isn't the point. He is just annoying and it stinks off of him. Send him to some informational meeting. It stinks that we have to put up with his little shows with the talking animals that sing. That is why he is called smell factor, it is a series of annoying things that stinks to put up with, and we all have to put up with it." My voice became louder as I finished my little rant.
Moments later, we arrived at the hospital. The same hospital I was at when I was hacked. The same null peace of crap hospital that I had to sit in without use of my feed and a null picture of a freaking boat with nothing else to look at. I, or I should say everyone there could see white coated doctors and nurses running around at Olympic record speeds. A open row of seats without other patients invited us in with a call. Telling us of its beauty and to take the opportunity as soon as it can be as someone else may take it. My father walked quickly to the front desk, a young nurse…a smoking hot nurse.
I couldn’t help but think of her. Man, her beach blonde hair just brings out the blue in her eyes. Come on, get that paperwork. Oh damn those are nice! Dang it dad get out of the way. Gah, dang it! I just witnessed Violets death, and here I am thinking of the hot nurse’s cleavage and she is about 15 years older than me to top it off.
My father walked back to me, a strut with heavy caution. Around him was several people who looked just plain scary. A man, about in his thirties. He had something with his legs they twitched violently and bone seemed to pop outside of the small amount of muscle, he was a walking skeleton from the hip down. Another was a woman, her face was burned into my eyes. Her entire face was ripped off. Her nose was gone, the white bone visible with threads of flesh over small parts of it. Her eyes were little slits. The only good parts of her face was the middle of her small strips of white skin that remained over the swollen faceless face.
My eyes watered, and pain returned to my hand. My brain must have ran out of its drugs. Or what I assumed was it was burned out. I leaned over to my dad and whispered to him. “She scares the hell out of me. And her face is embedded in my brain.” I felt like an asshole, a meg asshole for saying that. But how does that happen?
My dad’s face looked at the ceiling, in some out of mindset. He was listening to
the snore music now. His gentle rocking and taps of his fingers against his kneecaps became annoying quickly. I searched my feed for something, anything.
A woman’s voice was heard and lights flickered up in the distance. “Hello my name is Anya with Feed Network customer service. We are sorry for the loss of Violet. Would you like to erase her last message? It was almost done sending before she died.”
“Yes. Yeah Let me hear it.”
The woman disappeared and a small quick time looking play bar popped up. A soft, weak sounding voice with a small hum in the background began to play. “Titus, I know what happened between us wasn’t that great. Look I am sorry but why didn’t you come back to be with me? I am just about done here, just live life and please try and make sure this never happens again to someone else. And you were the.” The audio log ended.
Damn, she still loved me even after I left her to die. Stupid, stupid. Why did I leave here? Just because of some stupid argument over nothing. I should have said I was sorry, visited her, even respond to her chats. Why did I have to try and push her away so fast?
My father pushed my head a few times. “Time to go. We’re up.” A heavy grunt escaped my mouth as I went up. I stared at the floor, that as well as the nurses lower back. I was lead into a clear room, standard doctors set up. Small single bed, a red-orange bio hazard box full of used needles. The null picture of the sail boat hanging on the wall. And at the side was a picture of a male without skin, showing the muscle groups. It was torn here and there with some darker holes around it.
The doctor walked in, stared at me and then the picture of the man. His head shook in disappointment. “Lets see here… fractured bones, swelling, and bleeding. Punched a meat mallet didn’t you?”
“Sort of. More like a wall.” I looked at my feet.
“Now you know you have a strong wall. Hey the nurse over there is looking at you.” Titus looked over to where the doctor was looking, only to feel a needle in his shoulder and a sleepy sensation washing over him.
“She wasn’t looking. You lied to m…”
The doctor pushed him to a pair of male nurses in blue scrubs and masks on. They wheeled him into a brightly lit room, a room that couldn’t cast a shadow anywhere bright. An hour passed by, some sort of work was done to align the bones again. I later awoke in a dimmer room with some older woman asking me what color cast I wanted. Blue, green, pink, or white. I instantly responded blue. The green and pink were too girly, and white was just bare nothingness. The coating of some soft cushions were matted on my skin, and the blue wrap went on quicker than I thought possible as if she had machine hands and arms. She made me keep my hand still for ten minutes as a fan dried the cast into a nice solid mold.
She motioned for us to leave, handing my father a pamphlet on what not to do with the cast and blah, blah, blah of the other crap ladled on it. My father and I left the hospital, ending the experience. He tried telling me about his olden days stories…luckily I had music to block his tale. That was all I heard the whole way home, where I went into my room to sleep on my bed for the day and night. Too tired to get back at smell factor for causing my door to have a nice hole in it.
((well, thats it. Only needed a few pages double spaced. I doubled it. Hoping for a hundred after my video was just dumped due to lack of needed filming time.))