Post by spastic bard on May 1, 2008 0:59:11 GMT -5
So I dropped out of Nanowrite pretty quickly. I have terrible work ethic. Nevertheless, it was an interesting stab at forcing myself to write when I had little to no inspiration. Also, this site doesn't have enough original stuff. So many of my posts are game related. So here is a piece I started last semester for Nanowrite. It is barely edited. It will also remain unfinished till I remember where the hell I was going with it.
Pretty much I took the phase personal demons and ran with it.
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I’m the worst morning person ever.
I glared at my alarm clock as it blared and marked the hour of wake up. Thankfully without my glasses on it was nice and blurry, so I just reached out, tapped the snooze button, and turned over for a few more blissful minutes of rest.
Too bad life had other plans for me.
As soon as I turned over, I felt a cold breeze despite being buried under blankets. As the chilling air settled around me, my eyes seemed unable to close again. Something like this could only mean two things. One, I had left a window open, or two, I was about to receive a visit from an old friend.
You know, they mean it when they say you can’t run away from your demons.
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“Get. Out.” I didn’t need my glasses on to glare; I could recognize the blurry shape sitting at the foot of my bed without them. The blur looked defensive at my tone.
“But I just got here!” It protested as it held its hands up in some strange form of peace offering.
“I could really care less. Get out. Now.”
“But haven’t you missed me?” God, it was whining. They shouldn’t be allowed to whine. Children whine. Puppies whine. Ethereal beings from another plane that take the shape of grown adults should not be included on that list.
Frustrated, I grabbed my glasses from the nightstand and put them on. The familiar sight of my bedroom came into focus, as did the blur on the foot of my bed. Before me sat a young woman, maybe around my age or so, who was heavily over weight. Her frame already looked on the large side even without the fat. She had glasses as well, and her dirty blonde hair was pulled back in a messy pony tail, too greasy to hold any sort of real shape. The clumps of dingy blonde looked like they wanted to curl, but due to the grim they fell shapeless in poor, pathetic waves. Her hair was long. Too long. Down her back in thin, disgusting, shapeless strands. The worst part had to be her clothes, however. She wore a large t-shirt, tight on her oversized frame, with grease marks and other mysterious stains all over the murky yellow fabric. She wore sweatpants – most likely nothing else would have been comfortable for someone of her girth.
Now you must think I’m a horrible person for judging like this. I am to a certain extent, but my descriptions of this woman do not due her state any justice. She really is that repulsive. She has gotten worse from the last time I saw her. And the worst part? Under those mangy clothes, under those greasy locks and roles of fat, is me.
It was like starring into a fun house mirror, only one that exaggerated ugly.
As if hearing my mind, the ugly reflection on the bed frowned. She glared from over the top of her glasses in a stick sort of parody of the hot teacher look. “Dana, why are you so mean to me?”
“Because Kenta, you’re annoying.” I stated this flatly, hoping she would cry. Usually if I made her cry she would run away before I started to feel insecure. “And you’re fat, disgusting, and a poor excuse for a demon. Maybe you should take a lesson from Linda and start vomiting after meals.”
Her eyes glistened. I felt myself winning. I also felt myself overcome with disgust at my words. I was no better then Linda, saying things like this. Fortunately for her, those feelings of disgust won over and I looked away, a sigh escaping my lips.
“Do you need breakfast or anything? I have class in two hours. Do you guys even eat?”
“No,” she said, pushing her self off the bed and heading towards the door. “We just feed off of the emotions of people like you. Like right now, since you gave in to being a nice person and all.”
“Doesn’t that go against the whole evil thing?” I asked, pushing off my covers and getting out of bed. Thankfully it wasn’t too cold, despite only wearing a tank top and boxers.
“It would, except I feed off of doubt. Doubt comes in all sorts of fun forms.” Gone was the emotional near break down from before. Kenta moved out into the hallway and I followed reluctantly.
Seeing Kenta again wasn’t exactly the best thing to wake up to. I was still trying to shake off the weariness of sleep, but the unsettling feeling that went along with Kenta and her pals was beginning to fit into the space of my stomach. Kenta wasn’t nearly as bad as her friends, but she still wasn’t pleasant. Besides, usually Kenta was a sign that I’d soon be having a parade of visitors with one goal on their minds – to break down my entire being.
This deserves a bit of explanation, doesn’t it?
Kenta isn’t human. I’m sure you can tell by now that she’s something completely unreal and not of this world. When I spoke of demons before I spoke truly. She’s a demon. Not like those hellish, horned things that do all kinds of evil. She’s not that type of demon. She’s my demon, to be exact.
Kenta, and her pals, are all a formation of my self. They’re my personal demons who embody some nasty aspect of my personality and or being. Fun house mirrors were a fantastic metaphor. They take something about me that can hurt me and magnify it. Most of them even resemble me except for the male ones. Its pretty messed up.
Kenta sat down at my kitchen table while I grabbed a bowl and a box of cereal. She watched me closely, as if waiting for another moment of doubt she could eat up. I’m not exactly sure what Kenta is supposed to represent in me. I would say low self esteem but that was Linda’s job. And Linda was much more effective about it. Taking a seat across the table from my grotesque demon, I munched away at my cereal. “So, what exactly are you again? You’re not my love life; you’re not my self esteem…”
Kenta snorted. It was a fitting sound for her. “I’m your doubt, stupid. I’m what you fear becoming.”
“Oh.” I said quietly, “No wonder you remind me of my mother."
“Exactly. I can’t believe you didn’t realize that.” She sounded genuinely insulted. I almost felt bad. Almost.
“Look, you’re not as obvious about it as Linda, Liam, and Tim are. I was able to get their gist the first time I met them. You looked different the first time I met you.”
“That’s because your fear has changed since then. Jesus Dana, first time I came to you was when you were in middle school. Now you’re 22. That’s a lot of time to change.”
“Guess so.” I finished the last of my cereal and stood up to put the bowl in the sink. “You changed in high school too.”
“Again, fears change. You had a pretty sure idea of your future in middle school and high school, but now you’ve had time to realize just how similar you are to your mother - and that scares the hell out of you.”
I hated to admit it, but she was right. It wasn’t till college that I started to assess my future being, rather then my future profession and life. My older brother and sister both act more like my dad; laid back; level headed; not paranoid – exact opposite of my neurotic mother who I didn’t want to be. Kenta had the physical part down pact, which was another aspect of my mother I didn’t want. God, why did she have to show up now? I had been free of my little pack of demons since leaving home and starting college. Kenta wasn’t so bad, but the other three… I didn’t want to think about the other three showing up and ruining the life I had built around myself. Besides, I was a senior and insanely busy with my workload. I didn’t need a mental break down; which was another unfortunate consequence of Kenta and her siblings’ visits. Thankfully, the lyrics of Danny Boy broke my train of thought. I dropped the bowl and ran back into my bedroom to grab my cell phone.
“Hello?” Who the heck was calling me? I hadn’t bothered to check the number since I had come close to missing the call altogether.
“Hey Dana, where are you?”
Oh crap.
“Uhh.. Oops?” I felt myself give a nervous chuckle.
“Great. Now what the hell am I supposed to do? What time are you out of class today?’
“Around 4. I have work at 4:30, but I can be a little late and meet you after class, okay?”
A frustrated sigh from the other end of the phone. “Alright.”
“Sorry Jason. I didn’t mean to forget.”
“Whatever. See you at 4.”
The click echoed. Great. I put my phone down and returned to the kitchen. My expression must’ve given something away because Kenta looked downright gleeful. “Who was that?”
“A friend. I was supposed to meet him around now and forgot. It completely slipped my mind that I had to get to campus early today.”
“Oh. What kind of friend?” Now I could feel how gleeful she felt. Sometimes I wondered just how mature Kenta was supposed to be.
(unfinished)
Pretty much I took the phase personal demons and ran with it.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
I’m the worst morning person ever.
I glared at my alarm clock as it blared and marked the hour of wake up. Thankfully without my glasses on it was nice and blurry, so I just reached out, tapped the snooze button, and turned over for a few more blissful minutes of rest.
Too bad life had other plans for me.
As soon as I turned over, I felt a cold breeze despite being buried under blankets. As the chilling air settled around me, my eyes seemed unable to close again. Something like this could only mean two things. One, I had left a window open, or two, I was about to receive a visit from an old friend.
You know, they mean it when they say you can’t run away from your demons.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
“Get. Out.” I didn’t need my glasses on to glare; I could recognize the blurry shape sitting at the foot of my bed without them. The blur looked defensive at my tone.
“But I just got here!” It protested as it held its hands up in some strange form of peace offering.
“I could really care less. Get out. Now.”
“But haven’t you missed me?” God, it was whining. They shouldn’t be allowed to whine. Children whine. Puppies whine. Ethereal beings from another plane that take the shape of grown adults should not be included on that list.
Frustrated, I grabbed my glasses from the nightstand and put them on. The familiar sight of my bedroom came into focus, as did the blur on the foot of my bed. Before me sat a young woman, maybe around my age or so, who was heavily over weight. Her frame already looked on the large side even without the fat. She had glasses as well, and her dirty blonde hair was pulled back in a messy pony tail, too greasy to hold any sort of real shape. The clumps of dingy blonde looked like they wanted to curl, but due to the grim they fell shapeless in poor, pathetic waves. Her hair was long. Too long. Down her back in thin, disgusting, shapeless strands. The worst part had to be her clothes, however. She wore a large t-shirt, tight on her oversized frame, with grease marks and other mysterious stains all over the murky yellow fabric. She wore sweatpants – most likely nothing else would have been comfortable for someone of her girth.
Now you must think I’m a horrible person for judging like this. I am to a certain extent, but my descriptions of this woman do not due her state any justice. She really is that repulsive. She has gotten worse from the last time I saw her. And the worst part? Under those mangy clothes, under those greasy locks and roles of fat, is me.
It was like starring into a fun house mirror, only one that exaggerated ugly.
As if hearing my mind, the ugly reflection on the bed frowned. She glared from over the top of her glasses in a stick sort of parody of the hot teacher look. “Dana, why are you so mean to me?”
“Because Kenta, you’re annoying.” I stated this flatly, hoping she would cry. Usually if I made her cry she would run away before I started to feel insecure. “And you’re fat, disgusting, and a poor excuse for a demon. Maybe you should take a lesson from Linda and start vomiting after meals.”
Her eyes glistened. I felt myself winning. I also felt myself overcome with disgust at my words. I was no better then Linda, saying things like this. Fortunately for her, those feelings of disgust won over and I looked away, a sigh escaping my lips.
“Do you need breakfast or anything? I have class in two hours. Do you guys even eat?”
“No,” she said, pushing her self off the bed and heading towards the door. “We just feed off of the emotions of people like you. Like right now, since you gave in to being a nice person and all.”
“Doesn’t that go against the whole evil thing?” I asked, pushing off my covers and getting out of bed. Thankfully it wasn’t too cold, despite only wearing a tank top and boxers.
“It would, except I feed off of doubt. Doubt comes in all sorts of fun forms.” Gone was the emotional near break down from before. Kenta moved out into the hallway and I followed reluctantly.
Seeing Kenta again wasn’t exactly the best thing to wake up to. I was still trying to shake off the weariness of sleep, but the unsettling feeling that went along with Kenta and her pals was beginning to fit into the space of my stomach. Kenta wasn’t nearly as bad as her friends, but she still wasn’t pleasant. Besides, usually Kenta was a sign that I’d soon be having a parade of visitors with one goal on their minds – to break down my entire being.
This deserves a bit of explanation, doesn’t it?
Kenta isn’t human. I’m sure you can tell by now that she’s something completely unreal and not of this world. When I spoke of demons before I spoke truly. She’s a demon. Not like those hellish, horned things that do all kinds of evil. She’s not that type of demon. She’s my demon, to be exact.
Kenta, and her pals, are all a formation of my self. They’re my personal demons who embody some nasty aspect of my personality and or being. Fun house mirrors were a fantastic metaphor. They take something about me that can hurt me and magnify it. Most of them even resemble me except for the male ones. Its pretty messed up.
Kenta sat down at my kitchen table while I grabbed a bowl and a box of cereal. She watched me closely, as if waiting for another moment of doubt she could eat up. I’m not exactly sure what Kenta is supposed to represent in me. I would say low self esteem but that was Linda’s job. And Linda was much more effective about it. Taking a seat across the table from my grotesque demon, I munched away at my cereal. “So, what exactly are you again? You’re not my love life; you’re not my self esteem…”
Kenta snorted. It was a fitting sound for her. “I’m your doubt, stupid. I’m what you fear becoming.”
“Oh.” I said quietly, “No wonder you remind me of my mother."
“Exactly. I can’t believe you didn’t realize that.” She sounded genuinely insulted. I almost felt bad. Almost.
“Look, you’re not as obvious about it as Linda, Liam, and Tim are. I was able to get their gist the first time I met them. You looked different the first time I met you.”
“That’s because your fear has changed since then. Jesus Dana, first time I came to you was when you were in middle school. Now you’re 22. That’s a lot of time to change.”
“Guess so.” I finished the last of my cereal and stood up to put the bowl in the sink. “You changed in high school too.”
“Again, fears change. You had a pretty sure idea of your future in middle school and high school, but now you’ve had time to realize just how similar you are to your mother - and that scares the hell out of you.”
I hated to admit it, but she was right. It wasn’t till college that I started to assess my future being, rather then my future profession and life. My older brother and sister both act more like my dad; laid back; level headed; not paranoid – exact opposite of my neurotic mother who I didn’t want to be. Kenta had the physical part down pact, which was another aspect of my mother I didn’t want. God, why did she have to show up now? I had been free of my little pack of demons since leaving home and starting college. Kenta wasn’t so bad, but the other three… I didn’t want to think about the other three showing up and ruining the life I had built around myself. Besides, I was a senior and insanely busy with my workload. I didn’t need a mental break down; which was another unfortunate consequence of Kenta and her siblings’ visits. Thankfully, the lyrics of Danny Boy broke my train of thought. I dropped the bowl and ran back into my bedroom to grab my cell phone.
“Hello?” Who the heck was calling me? I hadn’t bothered to check the number since I had come close to missing the call altogether.
“Hey Dana, where are you?”
Oh crap.
“Uhh.. Oops?” I felt myself give a nervous chuckle.
“Great. Now what the hell am I supposed to do? What time are you out of class today?’
“Around 4. I have work at 4:30, but I can be a little late and meet you after class, okay?”
A frustrated sigh from the other end of the phone. “Alright.”
“Sorry Jason. I didn’t mean to forget.”
“Whatever. See you at 4.”
The click echoed. Great. I put my phone down and returned to the kitchen. My expression must’ve given something away because Kenta looked downright gleeful. “Who was that?”
“A friend. I was supposed to meet him around now and forgot. It completely slipped my mind that I had to get to campus early today.”
“Oh. What kind of friend?” Now I could feel how gleeful she felt. Sometimes I wondered just how mature Kenta was supposed to be.
(unfinished)