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Go Back   Pokemon Forum - Pokemon Elite 2000 » Interactive Boards » Creative Writing

Creative Writing Share your fan fiction, stories, poems, essays, editorials, song lyrics, or any other related written work. All written must be your creation. Start a new thread, and keep replying to that thread as you add on more chapters. Anyone can join in at anytime.


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Old 02-27-2011, 07:05 AM
Professor Geoffrey's Avatar
Professor Geoffrey Offline
 
Join Date: Aug 2006
Location: My laboratory.
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Hey. I thought this short story was so pitiful and so horrible that I decided to share it with you guys to see what you all thought. I really don't know what I was thinking when I wrote it. But I guess I'll let you guys decide.

Quote:
"Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed by a kiss." - Patrick Henry.

Sweat is dripping off my brows as I lay down on the bed. With a great deal of lethargy, I barely ease myself up off of the memory foam mattress to see red beams of light glaring at me. As I repeatedly open and close my eyelids to fix my contacts, the red lights turn to numbers on a digital clock on a nightstand right beside the bed. 9:36 P.M. The air is very humid and unusually warm, and it’s keeping me from sleeping.

I stretch a little in place, tired yet restless. Oddly enough, I feel an odd sensation – vibrations – in the bed. I reach down underneath the sheets instinctively, and my hand pulls out something I seem to have forgotten, or rather something I tried to forget about; my cell phone. Looking at the screen, a bunch of ostentatious lights flash before showing “NEW MESSAGE – WENDI.” I sigh. Clicking the “OK” button, the screen reveals the text.

I’m sorry for breaking up with you. I should have realized that on the other side of the country, those girls out there in California can get rather feisty. Lying back down, I relax my body as much as I can, but I’m still tense. Today’s events rolled through my mind instantaneously. I was the cliché “millionth visitor” to have ever gone to the Savvy Smoothie Bar down the road, and a waitress – decked out in traditional hula girl attire – proceeds to take my phone and take a picture of her kissing me on the cheek as I gasp in surprise; the ambiguous-looking kind of surprise that could have been interpreted to be pleasure or fear. Then, as I try to take the phone away from her, I end up accidentally sending it to all of my contacts, including Wendi. “A likely story,” she had said before she hung up on me when I tried to explain.

The phone still in my hand, I slide half of it sideways to reveal a green, glow-in-the dark keyboard. Clicking a few of the buttons, I type up a simple message and click “SEND.” It was not the best of experiences. I miss you. How’s Pennsylvania? Any snow yet?

I get a text back within a few seconds. I open it. I miss you too. It was snowing a little bit earlier today, but none of it stuck.

I smile, punching in a few more characters, sending what I had written afterward. Cool, no pun intended. How’s little Steve?

It takes a few more seconds, but I get a response within a minute. Parents are forcing me to babysit him. He decided to try his freshman science fair experiment on my phone and ended up disabling my microphone. Spring break hasn’t been the same without you, Chad. It’s our senior year.

Smiling a little bit, I snort out of humor. We spend enough time together, don’t we?

But it’s spring break. Isn’t it supposed to be all romantic and whatever? Do you even care about our relationship? Why are you even in California?

Baby, you know I didn’t mean that. And I already told you; I’m seeing my Aunt Brittany.

Silence. I sigh again, and I’m left waiting. I look around to occupy my time and idly admire the moonlight creeping through the window covered by luxurious brown, wavy curtains. It’s odd how even at night, the calm of the beach overpowers the noise of the city. A rare breeze blows into my room, allowing the curtains to float and wave in the air as if it were a superhero’s cape in slow motion. After all of this time in thought, my phone vibrates again, with a new text.

Someone is in the house.

I frown, and I type up a quick reply.

Your house?

There’s slight tension in the air, and I jerk upward, sitting upright with my feet dangling off of one side of the bed. I get a reply.

I’m hearing gunshots. I locked myself in a bathroom. I can’t call 911. The microphone.

I stand up, and I almost can’t tell that I’m breathing so heavy that I’m practically hyperventilating while I’m texting. Isn’t there anyone you can text to call 911? I don’t think I can call 911 from across the country. My heart is pounding out of guilt for going on this trip, but I knew it can’t be helped. My hand, shaking, vibrates after a few moments, and I check out my reply.

No. My parents went to the movies, and Kiki went to Florida for spring break.
Pacing, I realize that there isn’t anything that I can do. I bite my nails a little, spitting them into the trash can placed conveniently to my right. Hang in there, Wendi.

Someone’s coming up the stairs. I feel almost lightheaded. I can’t reply back, because my hands are trembling so much that I drop the phone on the room carpet. Bending over, I pick it up and get on my knees so I can put it on the bed. I get another text message.

Two guys are whispering outside my door. I love you Chad. My head feels so empty that a sudden wave of nausea shoots up my torso. Something snaps underneath my skull, and I drop to the floor. Everything starts to go dark, but before I let go of reality, the phone falls off the bed and onto my face.

*

My eyes blink open as a beam of light shines over them through the window. I’m lying on the floor, letting the contacts on my eyes adjust so I can see better. There are a lot of crusty particles on the corners of my eyes, and I wipe them as best as I can. Sitting upward, I look around. I had fainted last night. My phone was now lying slightly under the bed, probably rebounding off of my face when it dropped off the edge. Checking my phone, which said it was 8:15 AM on April 1st, I solemnly stared at the texts Wendi had sent me last night. They were real; they existed. A part of me really wanted to cry, but I couldn’t do anything. Oddly enough, I had an extra text message sitting in my inbox. With closer examination, I saw it to be from Wendi. I open it with an air of confusion.

April Fool’s. I am sorry to inform you that all of the texts I sent last night were a lie, but it’s nothing compared to the lie you’ve been telling your friends, family, and me. You ran away from home a few days ago and took a hold of your bank account. Your mom told me you made a withdrawal, but didn’t know what it was for. But I do. You cheated on me with Chelsea last month, and you had planned to run away with her this week. You were going to go make some kind of future over there in California, and erase me from your life. How do I know? Notice how she’s not with you right now. You’re probably waiting in your room, waiting for her flight to come in. She’s laying face-down in my bathtub right now. You won’t be seeing her again, Chad. Hope your spring break is swell. Enjoy it while you can. By the way, it’s snowing right now. I intend to take her body for a little walk. I’m sure we’ll get lost, that is, unless her blood leaves a trail. Maybe you can have your future with that tramp you took a picture with today. Chelsea was surprised to receive that photo when I invited her for a little sleepover. She tried to resist, but I never take no for an answer. Oh, and “baby,” you know I meant that. Stay feisty.
~Professor Geoffrey
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Last edited by Professor Geoffrey; 02-27-2011 at 07:08 AM.
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