Anyone write?

[Mech1031]

Ok, so i wrote some more (despite the fact that i have had no time to write whatsoever). just though't i'd post it for the heck of it.

Chapter 1: A Parable of sorts…


The room was dimly lit with the moon’s reflection, and it was hard to make out any distinct figures. He looked around and nobody was to be found in the bar. He got up off the floor and stood dazed for a moment or two. It was very dark, and he had a hard time getting coordinated, but after a few stumbles and a near-fall, he was balanced. He stood still for a moment or two to let his eyes adjust.

He suddenly realized that he wasn’t in the bar anymore, there was a bed, a dresser, and a grandfather clock in the room he was in. It took him a moment, but he soon recognized his surroundings to be his own bedroom. “One of the guys musta brought me home” he said to himself.

His head was still pounding from that bottle that fell on him. It felt like his skull was as soft as a plush toy, and his skin was on fire. He tried to stop thinking about it, but the pain was too much. Every move was another nail on the chalkboard. He decided to get some ibuprofen for it.

He took a step forward and bumped his shin into the end of his bed. The pain seared slowly up his body as a slight hissing sound came from the back of his throat. Something fell off his dresser and made a loud cracking noise as it hit the floor. This caused Ben to cringe in his hung-over state. The sound echoed through his head as if it were a trumpet in an coliseum.

He slowly (and cautiously) made his way over to the dresser to see just what had fallen off. It was his watch he got from his great grandmother some time ago. He reached for the lamp switch on his dresser to see if it had broken. He finally came across the slender silk rope that triggered the bulb and gave it a light tug. The sudden light blinded him momentarily, but it’s affect didn’t last long at all.

<<“Thanks for the watch GiGi, even if it isn’t my style, I’ll still wear it for ya”
“It isn’t your style? C’mon, you live to be tacky!”
”Oh GiGi, thanks for the ‘compliment’”
“any time ben, any time. Just don’t forget that I was the one who gave it to you”
“why would I forget that?”
”I know you too well Ben, Your worse than a 80 year old man with alzheimer's”
“GiGi…”>>

And then, the memory faded as quickly as it came. It was true though; Ben suffered from severe memory lapses and ADD. This made it very hard for him when he was still going through grad school. Yet somehow, he managed to get through those days. Actually, living day to day now was a bit of a chore. He set the watch back down on the dresser and made his way into the hall.

The carpet felt cold against his feet, but with every shuffle, there was a warm sensation caused by the friction. Even though the noise was currently unbearable for his pounding headache, it still felt good. He passed 2 rooms on his way to the stairs, one was his study, he remembered all the sleepless nights he spent in there prepping for the next class he had to take for his bachelors. The other was the bathroom, another sensation fell over him, and he rememberd…

<<”Get it together Ben, Jesus Christ!!! I know I’m not crazy, that voice in my head is just my conscious. He doesn’t really tell me to…to do things. Its all an unspeakable lie!!! Aw man, I’ve only got 46 hours left to finish that book, I’ll never make it! Why does everything happen to ME?!”>>

This memory also begins to fade now. He often had these “flashbacks”, the doctors said it was his memory catching up to him. Ben didn’t believe that, Ben didn’t even believe there was something wrong with him. He’d much rather forget then be troubled with remembering it, as he always said.

Without realizing it, Ben had walked to the top of the stairs. He stood there for a minute or two, and then shook his head, as if he were “snapping out of it.” The steps were made of oak, and it was an unwelcome change from the soft carpet. The steps were also ice cold, he must have forgotten to pay the heating bill, because he realized that he was very cold as well.

He picked up the pace and jogged down the rest of the stairs and into the kitchen. Just above the breadbox on the counter were some pills labeled “ibuprofen”. He popped a few out and chocked them down without any water. They tasted like chalk dust, and felt bad going down. But that feeling faded for he knew they would soon take their numbing effect.

He then ventured across the slick tile the kitchen floor was made out of, into the shag carpeting of his living room. He plopped down on his favorite chair and tried to remember what happened last night, or tonight, whichever it was. It was hard, but he thought there was some significance to it, so he kept trying.

“Something about…about…a hero. I remember someone saying something about a hero. Was I hungry?” he said to himself in the dark. “Or was it…Wait, there was a man, someone I knew from a long time ago… I was talking to him.” More was coming to him, but nothing clear yet. “Did he want to go get a hero with me sometime? Who am I kidding, this Is more than pointless.”

He leaned back and reclined in the chair. He tried his best to remember, but nothing was there. It was almost as if the night never happened. The moon was now low and the sun was rising through the window and into his living room. It reflected off the TV screen and into his eyes. He could care less though, he just sat there enjoying the silence.

At that moment, the phone rang. Ben jumped so high he almost hit his head on the ceiling. Still surprised by the sudden noise, he composed himself enough to pick up the receiver. “Hello Mr. Prescof, it seems that you may or may not be satisfied with your current long distance service.” Said a calm soothing voice on the other end of the line. Ben stumbled over his own sentence and said “Why calling your at this early?” There was a momentary pause on the other end, and then an “Excuse me?”.

Ben reformed the words in his head and said it right this time. “Why are you calling this early.” The person on the other end stammered for a moment and said “well, it’s 12:30 pm here in Hawaii…” Ben didn’t know wether to yell or to just hang up. He decided to play along though. “I’m afraid I am satisfied with it, so good bye.” Before he could hang up, the person on the other end whispered out the following: “Don’t be a hero Ben…”

Then the line went dead. Ben sat in the chair without moving, he was completely frozen. His tried to hang up the phone but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. “…Don’t be a hero…I remember now.”

<<Ben… Ben? Wake up! Oh man, that bottle done knocked him unconscious. Somebody get some warm towels or something! What am I saying, he’s passed out, not giving birth…

“Don’t you worry about Ben, I’ll take him to the hospital, I was going there anyway”
“I don’t think I’ve seen you before, who are you?”
”lets just say I’m one of Ben’s good friends…”>>

Ben remembered now, even though he was unconscious, he could still hear. He recognized the voice as the stranger’s. Ben couldn’t figure out why that stranger was so obsessed with him. Or what he wanted exactly. He did respect the strangers generosity though, whatever he was doing, it seemed like it was for Ben’s well being. This gave Ben newfound sense of confidence; it felt good knowing someone was on his side.

He looked down at his wristwatch, it was 5:32. “Oh man, I gotta be at work in a half hour!” He ran as fast as he could up the stairs to get dressed. With his head through his sleeve and his tie wrapped around his ankle, he flew back down the stairs. He whirred past the kitchen and grabbed a bran muffin on the way by with his car keys. And someway, somehow, he managed to straighten himself out before he got into the car.

Once he was in the car, he ate the muffin in one bite and floored it to work (which was a half-hour away from where he lived). His morning ride wasn’t anything out of the usual, although after the recent happenings, been was half-expecting something along the lines of a flat tire (to say the least). Luckily for him, nothing of the sort happened, and he got to work with 1 minute to spare.

He walked in and was greeted by the overweight secretary with a “Howdya do there mr. Prescof, I got yer coffe on yer desk this here morning, I figured you would end up bein late.” Ben just gave a wave and a head nod as if to say “Sure, Thanks.” He walked past the secretaries desk and past the 5 cubicles along the way to his office. Each cubicle had a different story to tell.

Cubicle 1 was filled with the “over-achiever”. You didn’t even have to look at his record to know this, you just had to look into his cubicle. There were motivational posters hung everywhere with slogans such as “Hang in there” and “Keep Truckin”. Each poster had a goofy picture of bill gates on it in a stupid “thumbs up” pose. Ben despised the 1rst cubicle.

Cubicle’s 2 and 3 were pretty much the same, except their records weren’t so clean. They were always known for pulling a prank on the boss or going out to lunch but not asking anybody if they wanted anything. 4 and 5 were similar to each other. Both were to cluttered to see into, so he could care less who (or what) was in those.

He finally arrived at his office and opened the door. Sure enough, the coffee was sitting on his desk with two sugars next to it and a stir. “She’s worked for me for 3 years, and she still hasn’t figured out I take my coffee black.” He said with a smirk on his face. He walked up to the coffee and jettisoned it out the window without giving it a second thought.