Sunday, December 19, 2010

Lucidity Part 2

Lucidity Part 2.

          It’s a sunny day today. Everything is calm; a flake of snow lands here and there, nothing unusual. A man carrying only a backpack reaches into his pocket, walking towards an airport. Although he is supposed to cross the crosswalk, he stops dead in his tracks. He grabs his phone; he received a voice note in a text message. He plugs in a headphone, and clicks on the voice note entitled “Exactly as I Do” and begins to listen to it. A woman’s voice began to speak.
          “The person you are looking for is named Leon. I will give you his last name after. Begin crossing with your left foot.” The voice says. He does what he is told, and begins crossing with his left foot. “There is a little girl to your left looking at you. Smile at her and continue on your way.” He looks down, and surely enough, there she is. He smiles, but doesn’t wave (If he were to wave, that would mess everything up entirely). The backpack on his back has minimal items inside; a book, a toothbrush, a map, some money for food.
          “Immediately turn to your right and check in to your flight.” The man turns right and gets in line; it isn’t that long. “There will be someone free in just a few seconds, pretend not to notice him. Wait a few seconds, go to the black woman instead.
          “Sir, I can help you over here!” The man says. He’s slightly overweight, and a bit older. It looks as if he has been working here for a while and he probably doesn’t have any patience for anyone anymore. He has most likely a lot of experience in the bag check-in business if nothing else.
          “Sir, over here!” The black woman isn’t free yet.
          “SIR!” The woman and her kid that the black woman was attending to left, and he walked up to her.
          “Hello sir, checking into your flight?” She asked.
          “Don’t say anything to her. Just give her the ticket. She will look at it and say-
          “Mister… Samuel Wagner. Hello. Portland, Oregon, huh? What’s there?”
          “Say,
          “I have some business to tend to.”
          “She’ll say,
          “Enjoy your flight.”
          “You say,
          “Thanks. Have a good day.”
          “Now walk to the left, stick to the right side of the walkway. Buy yourself a Rolling Stone magazine; it has the singer from Aerosmith on the front. Don’t talk to the man behind the stand; just give him the money and leave, continuing the same way down the walkway.” Sam did everything he was told to do. The woman’s voice seemed to know what she was doing, so he continued to do as he was told. This wasn’t the first time Sam has done this.
          “Stop RIGHT NOW. See that gum wrapper under your feet? Grab it, fold it nicely and put it in your pocket. You’re going to need this later. Now turn left and go into the bathroom so you won’t have to on the plane.” He goes in, walks up to the bathroom. He uses the urinal on the very right.
          “Say,
          “May I help you, sir?”
          “Hehehe.” The girl’s voice giggled. “The fat guy to your left was staring at your junk.” Sam quickly zipped up his zipper and went to the sink to wash his hands. The man previously next to him at the urinals picked the sink farthest away from Sam to avoid another awkward confrontation.
          “Look over at him and shake your head. I know it’s awkward and weird, but this was how I envisioned it and you HAVE to follow what I tell you to do or it’s not going to work, Sam.” Sam looked over to his right, while the fat man looked to his left and they both had weird eye contact. Sam shakes his head, and the man looks back down to washing his hands.

               
Sam dried his hands off and left. “You still have time to kill before finding Leon. Walk across the walkway to the coffee shop; order yourself your favorite drink. ‘Can I get a-‘
          “Venti Mocha with a little extra chocolate?”
          Sam gave the cashier his money and waited for the drink, and the woman’s voice told him to sit next to a person with a notebook.
          “May I sit here?” Sam asked.
          “Well, sure.” The man said. The notebook was a just a notepad, where the paper was blank except for the word “Ideas” in the heading. The man looked a bit flustered.
          “What’s that you’re writing?” Sam asked.
          “Oh, I need to pitch ideas for a movie to my boss by the end of the day or I’m fired. I’ve got two kids and a jobless wife at home, and I need this. Do you have any ideas?”
          “Say,
          “Hmm. How about this? A man walks through an airport or a subway of some sort. He has a headphone up to his ear, and in the ear is a voice of a girl that uses her dreams to tell the future. This man follows her instructions word by word and does EXACTLY as she tells him. I’ll let you decide what happens from there. Call the man an Alterer and the girl the Translator.” Sam says. The man just stares at him.
          The girl is laughing in Sam’s ear.
          “Venti Mocha with a little extra chocolate?” The barista says.
          “I have to go.” Sam gets up and grabs his coffee, walking out.
          “Thank you, kind stranger!” The man says, and immediately grabs his pen to write down the idea before it slips his mind.
          “Maybe they’ll talk about us now, Sam. ” Sam smiles, and goes to the security station. He puts his backpack through, takes off his belt, his shoes, his cell phone, and walks through.
          The machine doesn’t beep; the thing that he needs that’s in his shoe isn’t metal anyways.
          He grabs his backpack, puts on his shoes and belt, puts his headphone back in his ear, and continues to walk. There were no more stops that the girl told him to make, so he went to his gate and sat down right next to the little girl from earlier as his headphone told him to.
          “Do you believe in Santa?” The girl says.
          “Yes I do,” Sam says back. “What did you ask for this year for Christmas?”
          “A Barbie dollhouse and some movies. I love watching movies.”
          “Hey, me too!” Sam says.
          “Really? What’s your favorite movie?” The girl asks.
          “Say,
          “Toy Story.”
          “ME TOO!” She says with excitement. Sam winks at her, but unfortunately, the little girl’s Dad saw the wink, and made him feel uncomfortable.
          “Come on honey,” The Dad says. “Let’s go get some food.”
          They get it and eventually come back; while Sam sat there patiently waiting like the girl instructed him to.
          “Okay honey, spit out your gum.” Her Dad said.
          “Give her the gum wrapper to spit it into.” Sam reached into his right pocket and said, “Here!” She took it from him, the Dad nodded at him as if to say his thanks, and she spit her gum out and threw it in the trash.
          The three of them talked, but Sam wasn’t able to say what he wanted and couldn’t lead the conversation where he wanted it to go because he was told exactly what to say, so it was almost as if the girl was talking to them instead of him. He didn’t mind it, what the girl had to say to the father and daughter was actually quite nice, he made both of them laugh quite a few times.
          The plane began to board, and Sam was the first one on. He sat down, but then he was told to get back up. “Give the father and daughter the seats.” He did as he was told, and made their day entirely. In first class they would be given a nice meal and a movie to watch, which was Toy Story, exactly what the girl wanted. She was as happy as can be, and Sam got a warm feeling inside for doing it.
          He sat down in that empty row with a smile, and the girl in the headphone went straight to business.
          “The flight attendant walking down the aisle is Leon. His full name is Leonard Michael Langley. Put on your seatbelt and look forward, refrain from any eye contact with the guy. He has hit his son on multiple times. Once causing him to run away, once knocking him out completely. He is another Alterer, and we need to take him down. His Translator just passed away, so he will not be expecting it. Let’s kill this fucker. For now, try to sleep. We won’t do anything until the end of the flight.”
         
The pilot turns on the intercom to inform the passengers that they will arrive at PDX (The Portland International Airport) in just under an hour.
          “Turn this off, and go to sleep. Don’t order a drink; just say ‘No thank you’. Turn on the next voice note when you wake, but remember not to let anyone see that you are using your phone. (Sam’s phone vibrated, showing him he received the next voice note) Turn on the next ‘Exactly as I Do’ RIGHT when you wake, it’s important. Enjoy your rest, Sam. You need it.”
         
Sam almost fell asleep right away, but he didn’t dream. While he slept, Leon walked right past him, handing out drinks for all the passengers, singing along to “You’ve Got a Friend in Me” on Toy Story.

          Sam slowly opened his eyes and reached for his phone. He put his headphone in, clicked on ‘Exactly as I Do’.
          “Hello Sam. Hope you slept well. It’s time; get up to use the bathroom now. The departure is just about to begin; Leon will be in the front of the plane. Go to the bathroom in the back, there should be someone in there.” Sam got up and waited for the bathroom. “See that cup of coffee? That’s Leon’s.” Surely enough, it was sitting there, with a cap on so it wouldn’t spill. The girl explained that he forgot to grab it before going to the front of the plane.
          The person came out of the bathroom, Sam locked himself in.
          “Take off your right shoe.”
          He took off his right shoe.
          “Pull off your sock.”
          He pulled off his sock.
          “Grab the pill.”
          He grabbed the pill.
          “Now put it in his drink.” Sam got out of the bathroom, took off the cap of the coffee cup and dropped the pill, and used a plastic spoon to stir the drink. He put the cap back on and went to his seat.
          They landed, and started slowly driving up to the gate. Sam grabbed his backpack from under the seat. “You need to go as fast as you can, Sam. As soon as you are about to walk off the plane, you can look back to see Leon if you want. You need to get up before everyone else does.”  Leon walked to the back to grab his coffee and then go back up to the front to say goodbye to the passengers. Sam heard a sipping noise behind him.
          Sam did exactly what he was told, and he began to pass people, and said goodbye to both the pilot and the other flight attendant. He looked back, and there was Leon. The girl in the headphone made him switch spots with the father and daughter so if they were to figure out who was sitting there, they would not suspect Sam. He left before anyone became suspicious.
          He was clutching his neck with one hand, and reaching for the attendants at the front for help. He was foaming at the mouth. No one had noticed yet. Sam left the plane and started walking to the gate, where screams were made behind him. “Don’t turn around, Sam. Just keep going. Walk straight through the gate and through the door to outside and chase the shuttle to the rent-a-car place.” Sam put his hand up and waved at the shuttle so it would stop, and surely enough it did. The plan was done perfectly; Sam did everything he was supposed to do.
          “Good job, Sam. I’m proud of you. Now reach into your pocket for information on where to reach the next Alterer, your next target. We need to kill him before he meets his Translator and before he realizes he's an Alterer.” Sam reached into his pocket and grabbed a piece of paper. On it were a few jotted notes:

“Lucas Mawson
Will be at Providence Portland Medical Center with friend Skyler (Leon’s Son)
4805 NE Glisan St.
Room 219”


Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Lucidity.

Lucidity by Wolfgang Kaiser


             It starts with a dream.
            A subtle dream, one Lucas was not expecting.
            He walks up to a stage, there is no light except for a spotlight on a single stool. Everything else was entirely pitch black. On the stool sat an acoustic-electric guitar, that was hooked up to an amplifier that was somewhere in the dark, or was there more than one?
            Lucas walks towards the guitar and the simulations of people begin to cheer for him. It’s such a huge crowd in his dream; he has to cover his ears. The crowd quiets down; he reaches in his pockets for ear plugs and inserts them. He waves into the black, and the flashes of cameras begin to wave back.
            This makes him smile.
           
In his room, his radio is quietly playing soft songs. He turned it on around 9:00 at night to help him sleep. The song playing only has ten seconds left.
           
Lucas stops waving and grabs the guitar. As soon as he finds his chord and is ready to strum, two flashes of light arrive from behind him, revealing his band. Before he turns around, the crowd roars. He turns. On the drums, Skyler Langley. He was Lucas’ best friend; his partner in crime since the third grade. On the piano… Wait. An unfamiliar face. Lucas doesn’t know who this girl is.
            That was where he began to realize he was dreaming.
           
His radio switches to the final song, “Liar Liar” by NeverShoutNever. This changes his dream a bit.
            Lucas didn’t know this, but the first step to changing dreams is knowing you’re asleep. Lucas started strumming that guitar and he played right through the notes that were playing in reality. “Liar Liar” was the song he listened to to cope with his disastrous break up that happened just a year ago with Caprice.
“You’ve got it all down, got it all down into a science; breaking hearts is what you do for fun…”
            The spotlight leaves Lucas and focuses on a single girl in the audience. There she was, the life-ruiner. Caprice. Everybody, Lucas feels, is staring at her. Because of the song he’s playing, he’s showing the world just how big of a bitch she is. He grits his teeth.
“Yeah I’m moving on, but that’s the way it goes when you break my heart, everybody knows, don’t pull that shit again.”
            The simulation of Caprice begins to tear up, and stands up. She runs through all the people here to leave. Everyone is pointing, and everyone is laughing. She just continues to run. Lucas is getting what he wanted, he laughs while he continues to sing. A single drop of rain lands on his shoulder. Lucas looks up, and clouds begin to form above him and everyone in the audience.
            The cheering stops.
            The song stops.
            Lucas looks to his left; a tree stands tall on the stage forming over his head. What was going on? He looks down under the tree, past all the branches and leaves, and there was a kid sitting under it with his face covered by his knees. Something isn’t right.
           
His alarm clock goes off.




            Lucas remembered the dream entirely that next morning, and before he got ready or the day, he reached under his bed. He passed the porn magazines, past the bags of chips and candy wrappers… He got hold of his dream journal and pulled it out. He got to the first unwritten page, which was on the right page.
            It’s been a year since he dreamt at all, which was hard on him. Lucas used to always dream, but thanks to Caprice, that all stopped. Caprice was the exact opposite of Lucas’ ideal girl, but there was something about her that made him keep coming back.
            Lucas met Caprice his senior year of high school. He was new to Denver at that time, his parents had to move for work. Lucas always hated them for that, making him move from his friends before graduating high school (In fact, it was one of the many reasons he decided to move out after graduation).
            Lucas was missing Portland, Oregon so much. That’s where he grew up, that’s where all his memories were. During the first day of senior year, Lucas kept asking his teachers if he could ‘use the bathroom’, where instead he called his friend Skyler. Portland schools started later in the year than Denver’s did, so he wasn’t interrupting anything school-related for Skyler.
            Of course Lucas was homesick. He sat at a lunch table in the lunch room and finished the conversation, making sure Skyler knew just how much he missed him. If ever someone said he had a man-crush, he was highly offended. By ‘he’, I mean the both of them.
            Lucas said goodbye, Skyler did too, and Lucas began heading back to his Government class. He passed a locker bay, and as he was passing through the second one, he heard a bunch of pencils fall straight to the ground. He looked to the right where a girl said “SHIT!” to herself.
            This was how he met Caprice.
            Lucas walked over to her and kneeled down to help her out. He picked up, she picked up half. PLEASE NOTE: This was the only time they EVER met halfway on ANYTHING. She said her thanks, he smiled and nodded his head.
            “You look like a new face.” Caprice said.
            “Yeah, I just moved here from Portland.”
            “Portland?! I used to live there!”
            “Wow, small world. When did you move here?”
            “When I was five or six.”
            Caprice had red hair and brown eyes. She was constantly called a ginger for a long time, although she didn’t have the excessive amount of freckles to be one. She was extremely quiet for the most part; she had few friends and for some reason, she saw something in Lucas that day.
            So, to cut the story short, Caprice smashed Lucas’ heart with a hammer, and by saying that, I’m saying it nicely. Lucas loved her, she never loved him. Lucas would walk a thousand miles to see her; she couldn’t walk to the end of her sidewalk.
            But strangely enough, this was Caprice’s true idea of a relationship. Something happened to her in the past that closed her shut that she never told anyone. A relationship to her was only talking a bit to check up, to hang out once only every couple of weeks, and to have minimal physical relations. She liked to TALK about sex, but that’s about it.
            This pissed Lucas off royally. Lucas wanted to be as close to her as possible, but that wasn’t her. Lucas and Caprice were like two magnets attempting to connect the wrong way. When they got too close, one pushed the other away. In order for them to actually connect, one would have to flip, but neither of them were willing to flip, ever.
            The break-up was brutal, too. I'd tell you what happened, but Lucas doesn't like to speak of it, and he probably wouldn't be comfortable with me telling anyone.
            It was about a year ago today. “No,” Lucas would probably say, “It is EXACTLY a year ago today.” He opened up that dream book and looked at the last dream he had, which was the night after the break up. He wrote,




“I dreamt I was tied to a chair tonight.”



            Lucas dreamt he was tied to a chair. The room was pitch black except for the light right above him, that lit him just enough to see the rope around him. He felt duct tape across his mouth that stopped him from speaking, of course. A door opened and a bright light flashed, all he could see in the light was a silhouette figure.
            This black figure walked up to him, and surely enough, it was Caprice.  She didn’t say a single word, but she smacked him right across the face. He whimpered, and she continued to do it repeatedly. Hitting him, kicking him… It was just a dream of pure torture.




            “I guess it just symbolized that being with her was torture.” He had written. He stopped reading and proceeded to write in the dream he had last night, the first dream in a long time. He jumped in the shower and used the shampoo he had stolen from a hotel the week before. Lucas wasn’t the richest person on the planet; he was saving up to go to college. When he was done he put on his green work shirt that had a little emblem of a gas pump that said “Denzel’s Diesel”.
            Lucas grabbed a bowl of Lucky Charms (he was running out), and watched SpongeBob on his little boob tube. He walked to Denzel’s Diesel and clocked in for work, five minutes early as always. He bought a cup of gas station coffee. It didn’t taste disgusting anymore, he got used to it a while back. His job was only a two minute walk from his studio apartment.
            Throughout the day, Lucas had a bored and discontent look upon his face. He didn’t do too much; it was a slow day He finished his shift and walked home. Thank GOD his job was so close by; he couldn’t afford a car with all the saving he was doing. He went home and called Skyler until he needed to go to sleep. They chatted about the same thing as always; their memories together and what’s new with their lives (Of course Lucas never had much to say during that part of the conversation).
            Lucas laid in bed, curled to his right side, and fell asleep almost instantly.
           


             Lucas opened his eyes to see rain. He was shivering cold because of it. (Lucas had left his window open.) There were branches above him full of orange and pink leaves that protected him from the rain.
            “Everything’s going to be okay. I bet he didn’t mean to.” Lucas said. He had no idea why he had just said that until he looked to his right, to see a little boy sitting, facing away from him.
            He had been here before.
            This was a memory.
            “Yes he did… Yes he did.” The kid said back to him. Lucas could hear sniffles coming from him. The kid turned around and stared at Lucas. His face was entirely black, as if it had been scribbled out in pen. “YES HE DID. HE FUCKING DID.” The kid said.
            “Okay… Sorry.”
            Lucas stared off into the rain and saw a girl walking. Her face was covered in her black hair. The rain was drenching her. Lucas stood up and screamed at her.
            “THE RAIN WILL PASS SOON! COME SIT UNDER THE TREE WITH US FOR A WHILE!” She looked over and began to walk over. His dream girl wore tight skinny blue jeans and a big jacket with a hood of fur.
           
His clock said the time was 6:59, just a minute before he was supposed to wake.
            The girl sat next to him and right as he attempts to get a glance of her face-
           
His alarm went off.
           


             Lucas gets in the shower, throws on the green shirt, and eats another bowl of Lucky Charms. He watches a show he is unfamiliar with instead of seeing SpongeBob. The boy in the show says, “Astrid, don’t leave me. I am happiest when I am with you. I love you so much, you are everything I want and need in a girl!” Lucas flipped the channel to SpongeBob. He wasn’t the biggest fan of teenage drama shows…
            Lucas brushed his teeth for the first time in a few days (Oh the joy of living alone and not having to impress anyone) and headed out the door. Halfway through his commute, his phone rang. He knew it was Skyler, he was the only one that called him anymore. His parents wouldn’t even return his calls.
            “Hey, Skyler!”
            “This isn’t Skyler.” A woman’s voice said. He checked the number, and his mouth dropped. It was the number he swore he would forget… Caprice’s number.
            “…Hello?” Caprice said.
            “Hi.”
            “How have you been, Luke?”
            “Alright.” Silence occurred. Neither of them spoke, and it caused both of them to feel quite awkward.
            “This is where you ask how I am…” She says.
            “Oh, is that how a conversation is engaged? Why did you call me?” He asked.
            “Wow, you haven’t changed one bit. I just called because yesterday was somewhat special for us.”
            “Oh, you mean the day where you ruined my life?”
            “If by that you mean our mutual break up, then yes.”
            “MUTUAL?!?!?” He screamed in the phone.
            “I really called because I moved back to Portland for school. I remember how we used to talk a lot about this town. I kinda want to see you.” And there it was; the shred of truth Lucas had waited so long to hear. He KNEW she had feeling for him somewhere in that black heart of hers. He thought moving back to Portland would be so much better for him. He said goodbye to her.
            That day, Lucas called himself in for work and quit. He walked to his bank, and made the choice to take out all of his money to go to college. He saved up $35,000 over the last two years, and he didn’t feel he was making a mistake by taking all of this out. He went home that night and packed everything he had. He laid in his apartment one last time after making a bowl of noodles, and closed his eyes.



            Lucas, once again, was under a tree.
            “YES HE DID. HE FUCKING DID.” The kid yelled. Lucas apologized once again, and then looked out into the rain, into the cold, to see the mystery girl.
            “THE RAIN WILL PASS SOON! COME SIT UNDER THE TREE WITH US FOR A WHILE!” He screamed at the girl, whose face was covered in her black hair. She again began to walk over in the same outfit. She approached the tree and sat next to Lucas. He looked over at her, and she turned to him. She was magnificent. She had hazel eyes that shined brightest in the pouring rain. In her hair she had a small blonde streak, and she wore minimal makeup; just the way Lucas liked it.
            This was Luca’s ideal girl. He stared at her for what seemed like forever, and then the clouds began to go away. The sun came out, and it stopped the rain. The day became almost as beautiful as the mystery girl, who was playing the piano in his earlier dream.
            “Who are you?” He asks.
            “I’m Astrid.” She giggles.
            “Will I ever see you again?” He asked. She stood up and began to leave.
            “You’ll find me.” She smiles.
           
Lucas woke up.



            “It’s for Skyler,” Lucas was staring at himself in the mirror. “Caprice can go die. This isn’t for her, it’s for Skyler.” Lucas’ day consisted of brushing his teeth, and checking in a room for a hotel in Portland. This was all at about five in the morning. By six, he had his U-Haul truck all packed up and ready to go.
            He drove for twenty whole hours, buying shit coffee along the way at multiple Denzel’s Diesels. He didn’t stop at all for those twenty hours to sleep, just to fill up his tank or pee(drain his tank). Truth be told, Lucas enjoyed driving, and he had purchased a bunch of CD’s to help him on his journey.
            Lucas arrived at the Portland Hotel an hour earlier than he expected, but it was still at one in the morning. He got into his room and crashed almost instantly; he dropped his bags on the floor and slammed his face on the fantastically comfortable bed.
            Lucas was home, but not for the right reasons.
            Lucas didn’t dream that night.
            He conveniently picked the hotel closest to Skyler’s house; it was only a ten minute walk. As soon as Lucas got up, he showered and walked to Skyler’s house. On the way there, he came across a Denzel’s Diesel, and applied for work, giving his cell phone as his primary number.
            He got to his friend’s house, thinking of all the memories the two of them have shared. Skyler and Lucas have been friends since the third grade. In fact, before he stopped dreaming entirely, Lucas dreamt of the first time they met.



            Lucas was sitting with his mother, father, and little sister. They were watching a movie that most parents would feel uncomfortable with if their little children were watching it, but whatever, it was only The Matrix.
            “Lukey, let’s go outside!” His little sister requested. He continued to watch the movie seeing as he was so interested in it (well, not really, he just loathed his little sister).
            “Lucas, go outside with your sister.” His father demanded.
            “FINE!” Lucas was known for his temper tantrums.
            He ran outside and waited for his little sister to come out, but she always took forever putting on her shoes and picking out her outfit. He sat at the curb for a good few minutes. Lucas and his family shared a big house at the bottom of a hill, quite a steep one, in fact. He put his hands up to his face due to sheer boredom.
            Just then, a basketball rolled down past him extremely fast. Lucas chased the ball. He got to it and began to run back up the hill to return the ball to its rightful owner. He passed three houses up the hill until he found a basketball hoop above a house’s garage. Lucas didn’t see anyone outside, so he ran up the stairs to the porch where he dropped it off. Lucas began to walk back down to his house. He reached the end of the driveway, where a voice behind him said, “HEY, WAIT!”



            Skyler’s house looked older than it did back then to him. A basketball laid on the front yard, it was the same they played with that first day and every day after. Lucas grabbed it, and began shooting it in the hoop. He did this for a good ten minutes until the blinds from the window above were pulled up.
            Skyler didn’t believe his eyes, and neither did Lucas.
            Skyler ran all the way down to his front porch, jumped down that, and tackled Lucas with a gigantic bear hug.
            That day consisted of Lucas and Skyler catching up (which didn’t take that long) and making plans for the night. Lucas decided he just wanted to go home for the night.
            “I just started dreaming again.” Lucas mentioned.
            “Really? How did you manage that?” Skyler asked.”
            “I don’t know, it just started again a few nights ago.”
            “Oh, the one year anniversary, I’m assuming?”
            “Yep.”
            “I thought so. Good dreams or nightmares?”
            “I’m not sure what to think of them.”
            “So how about you lucid dream?”
            “How about I what..?”
            “Lucid dream. It’s where you know you’re sleeping. It allows you to let you do what you wanna do, have people say what you want them to say… Works great if you want to have a sex dream, you get to pick who you’re screwing.” It wouldn’t be Skyler if he didn’t turn everything he talked about into sex.
            “Well,” Lucas said, “How do I do it?”
            “I said before, you need to realize you’re sleeping.”
            “Uh-huh…”
            “So lie directly on your back, because that’s when it’s harder to sleep. You’ll slowly fall into it…”
            “It being…”
            “I call it Lucidity. You’ll slowly fall into lucidity, but at the same time you’ll be right in between sleep and being awake.”
            “So what do I do in the dream?”
            “In lucidity, you’ll probably realize you’re still in bed. Get up, and try to flip on your light or look in the mirror. Your lights won’t work; you won’t be able to see your reflection.”
            “That’s sick!” Lucas exclaimed.
            “Then just do whatever the hell you want!” Skyler said.
            Lucas was eager to try it, so he said goodbye for the night. He ran to the hotel, and into his room. When he checked his clock, it was only 4PM, so he killed his time ordering in pizza and watching TV. His day finally came to a close, and he turned off his television.
            Lucas laid staring at the ceiling and slowly closed his eyes. His body wanted him to transition to his left or right side, but he didn’t. Laying there made him more and more uncomfortable, but he got used to it. He slowly became extremely tired.
            Have you ever had a time during a school morning where you had to wake up, so you dream you get dressed and make yourself breakfast? It feels so real; your mind takes over and makes your thoughts so vivid… But then you wake up and FUCK. You’re late to school.
            Lucas slowly began to fall into lucidity and got up out of his bed in his dream. He was in his hotel room, and he walked towards the television. He pressed the ON button, but no luck, it didn’t turn on. He then realized, he wasn’t awake. This wasn’t real. He walked to the wall and touched it, but his fingers slipped through.
            He then pushed his whole hands into the wall. The wall made waves as if it were made out of rubber or water. The hotel hall was so long on the outside of the room. Lucas’ arms, legs, and torso all went through the wall, and the hall was empty and
cold. His face peered through and looked to his left. He made Astrid appear at the end of the hall, and he walked over to her. The lights were off, the only light came from the doors to the outside at each end.
            “Astrid!” He exclaimed, happy to see her once again.
            “You found me.” She said back. Right as he began to start a conversation with her, he slo
wly began to realize he was just talking in his sleep. This new idea of lucidity was so fascinating to him. Lucas knew that this would be good for him; it was the first time he smiled to himself in a long time.
            Suddenly the hotel room’s door opened, and Skyler walked inside.
            “What the hell? How’d you get in here?” Lucas asked.
            “Apparently we look a lot alike. The girl in front thought I was you. Hey, I met someone on the walk here… Come in, come see him.”
            Before she walked in, Lucas KNEW who it was.
            The REAL reason he was here.
            “Hey, Lukey.” Caprice said. Lucas was naked under his blankets. He just stared at her.
            “It’s nice to see you too.” She said. Caprice’s sarcasm at its best.
            “Hey, uh… Lucas, why don’t we go eat up at the front? They’ve got cereal and coffee. What say we go out drinking tonight?” Skyler suggested. It didn’t exactly sound like a bad idea.
            “We’re 19.” Lucas remembered.
            “My friend’s got the hook-up. We’ll just go to his house; it’s not terribly far from here. Caprice can come with us!”
            “Ehh… Sure.” Lucas didn’t want to be rude.
            The gang went to eat breakfast up front, where they shared some pretty awkward conversation (only Lucas and Skyler were talking, Lucas did that on purpose), and whenever Caprice did speak, she only complimented and flirted with Lucas. She usually only did this when she felt Lucas was moving on.
            “Say, you just came along a shitload of dough, right?” Skyler asked, already knowing the answer. Caprice’s eyes lit right up, but that wasn’t exactly a surprise.
            “Yeah? I’m not buying you any weed.”
            Skyler chuckled. “I’m not in the eighth grade anymore, buddy. Weed got old. I meant maybe you should buy some snacks for the night.” He grabbed a napkin and started writing down directions to the party, and gave them to Lucas.
            “I’m headed out,” Skyler said. “I’ve got a job to go to. Caprice, you want a ride home?”
            “Um, actually, I’d rather stay with-“
            “Yes, take her home please.” Lucas interrupted.
            Caprice had a discontent/pissed off look, but went with Skyler. Lucas showered up and walked to Denzel’s Diesel to buy some chips and verify his application, killing two birds with one stone. He grabbed all the stuff, and passed a girl picking out chocolate. She was kneeled down. He accidentally dropped a bag of chips; it hit the girl in the head. She handed it back up to Lucas without looking. She was a very skinny girl… She wore nice tight jeans and had long black hair.
            “Picking chocolate out, are we?” Lucas said, attempting to make conversation.
            “You found me.” Astrid said back.
           
“You caught me.” This girl said back. She looked up, and looked exactly like his dream girl.
            He must have been dreaming.
            “This must not be real.” He told himself.
            The cashier helped Lucas out, and told him he was hired. Lucas told him he could start working tomorrow. Lucas grabbed his bag and turned around to the girl.
            “I’m Lucas.” He said.
            “I’m Astrid.” She said back. She smiled and gave him a slip of paper, which he found out contained her number as he walked back to the hotel.
            That night, Lucas brought the grocery bags to the house he was instructed to go to. Caprice sat on the curb, as if she was waiting for him.
            “Hey, Caprice.” He said.
            “Hey, I got you a drink to start your night!” This was Lucas’ fork in the road. Inside of this cup was hard, HARD liquor. This was part of Caprice’s plan to get back with Lucas. He would be so drunk that it wouldn’t have taken Caprice very much convincing to have Lucas take her back to the hotel room so they could have sex.
            He took the drink.
            He chugged the drink.
            “Buddy!” Skyler yelled. He, too, was holding a red cup of disaster.
            “Hey.” Lucas burped. The rest of the night was extremely blurry to Lucas, there were so many strange things going on.
·         He saw a bunch of old friends.
·         He saw Skyler dance on at least five girls.
·         He saw Skyler get slapped by three other girls who saw him dancing with others.
·         He saw Caprice run her hand up his leg to his crotch.
·         He felt an erection coming on.
·         He felt tongue action with Caprice.
            Caprice’s plan was working out perfectly; she was sober as a bird. Skyler was wasted…
            “Want to go home, Lukey?” Caprice asked.
            “…Sure…” Lucas said back.
            This was the fork. He could’ve stayed sober. They walked to the hotel, where Caprice was holding Lucas up since he couldn’t walk straight. He had a massive erection showing through his pants. Caprice walked him to the door, while Skyler walked himself to his car. Lucas grabbed the card to get in, while Skyler put his keys in the ignition. Lucas and Caprice went inside around ten o’ clock, and Caprice began to tear her clothes off.
            “I…Need… To shower…” Lucas said to himself. He stumbled into the bathroom unconsciously and locked the door behind him. Caprice tried to come in, which aggravated her. He turned the shower on and stepped right in without taking off his clothes. The water wasn’t even warm. He passed out, while Caprice slammed on the door repeatedly.
            Meanwhile, Skyler’s radio played “Father Of Mine” by Everclear, and began to sing along.
            It was raining. Lucas was in a large field, full of tall hills. He looked down at his feet, to see he was wearing Buzz Lightyear shoes. He began walking, and had no control over the direction he was walking.
            This was a memory.
            He went to the top of the biggest hill, and saw a tree that would protect him from the rain. He ran to it.
           
“Father of mine, tell me where have you been? I just closed my eyes, my whole world disappeared.”
            Lucas sat down and saw that a kid was already under the tree.
           
There was a pool two blocks ahead of Skyler. He put his head on the steering wheel, and fell asleep, still driving. Tears were falling down from his face. He opened the driver window without realizing it.
            The kid was sitting with his face buried in his knees, crying. Lucas sat next to him, the kid turned away. “Everything’s going to be okay,” Lucas said. “I bet he didn’t mean to.”
           
Skyler slowly turned off the road, crashing into the fence protecting the pool.
            “Yes he did… Yes he did…” The kid said to himself.
           
Skyler’s car went down into the pool. Everyone noticed it, people started to run to the scene.
            “YES HE DID. YES HE FUCKING DID.” Skyler screamed and looked at Lucas. He had a black eye and a bloody nose. Someone had struck him.

To be continued.

Friday, October 22, 2010

Multiverses

Multiverses.


            Have you ever thought about how it would feel if we switched spots with inanimate objects around us? For example, what if we switched roles with wrapping paper during Christmas? Instead of little kids ripping opening their presents, what if wrapping paper ripped open the children for Christmas? It’s a dark thought, I know, but think about it! The theory of the multiverse states that there are different universes containing every single situation imaginable.
     Somewhere, guitars are getting out their six-stringed humans and playing a song for an audience of guitars. Their voices are the sounds their strings would usually make, and every time they strum along their human, their voices come out regularly, like a singing instrument.
     Somewhere, we humans are eating grass and leaves peacefully in a forest, and deer are using their rifles to serve their fawns a nice, warm dinner. It makes an entire new way of thinking when you hear the words “Deer Hunter”.
     Somewhere, computers are using their humans to gather information and to write papers that are due soon. Somewhere, whiteboards are writing on us. Somewhere, cars are driving us. Somewhere, money is using us to pay for their McDonald’s.
     Bats are swinging us to play baseball.
     Bikes are pedaling their humans on the way to school.
     Books are reading their texthumans.
     Drinks are drinking humans.
     I’m sure that by now you see my point. It’s so weird to think that out of any universe, any time, any place, we are exactly where we are. The computer screen rests here on this very table; I sit hunched over a keyboard in this small town that almost nothing happens in.
     I walked my dog to a lake (my dog could be walking me somewhere) just yesterday, and we played fetch. We ran around this lake for a good hour, doing absolutely nothing important. The sun was right over our heads when we sat under a tree right next to the lake for lunch (trees could be using us to cool down).
     Around the corner of the hill by the lake, a small paddle boat came along. An old man with a huge, white beard was paddling along with his fishing pole hanging off of the end of his boat. He was humming and whistling a tune that I could not recognize. He kept paddling, slowly but surely, into the middle of the lake. Word around the town is, the lake is loaded with huge fish. It is so full; apparently it only takes a few seconds to get a nibble every time.
     Next to this old man on his paddle boat sat a little red lunch box, the ones you would see kids with today (somewhere, lunchboxes are opening their children to see what their mothers packed them for lunch). It had a cartoon on it, like the really cheap ones you find at a supermarket. My assumption was this man did not have a place or enough money in this world, and the reason he was fishing was because he did not have anything to feed himself that night.
     This old Santa Clause man stopped at the middle of the lake and cast his line in the water. He waited a few seconds, but there was no bite. Either it must have been a slow day or many people had been fishing before him. He let out a loud sigh; I could hear it from the side of the lake. My dog could too.
     The old man grabbed his lunchbox and set it on his lap. His fishing pole got a nibble, causing Santa to lean forward a bit, and his lunchbox fell into the water. My dog turned his head to the old man when he heard him scream, “Dammit!”
     Santa reeled in his line, and set his fishing pole out of the water on the paddle boat. He leaned down to grab his lunchbox, and when he picked it up, he dried it off with a towel he had on the boat. He opened the lunchbox while he was facing me, so I could not see the contents of it.
     I swear to you, I saw a string connected to the lunchbox. Whenever Santa opened the box, his mouth dropped, and I was sitting there with my thumb up my ass, wondering what was in it.
     Just then, Santa fell straight into the water. He didn’t come back up for the first few seconds. I stood up, as did my dog, and we waited. Santa burst out of the water screaming, “Help, HELP! They’ve got me!” His left hand flew in the air, and from there, I could see a huge hook had went all the way through it, and he was bleeding everywhere. Santa was pulled back down, and from there, everything was silent. Once again, thumb up my ass.
     Out of nowhere, something red and brown flew out of the water. I thought it was a head, or maybe some part of Santa’s body. As soon as it landed, I was dumbfounded. It was meat. It was a raw piece of meat. I thought to myself, what was that supposed to do, lure me?
     It was to lure my dog.
     I didn’t think fast enough. My dog was a big dog. He loved raw meat, meaning he went straight for it. He took a huge bite, and staring him, a hook shot straight out of his cheek. He let out a huge cry, and that was when I saw the string attached to the hook. My dog was yanked, and he pulled with all of his might, but he was dragged to the lake. I was screaming, if I had grabbed my dog, I would have been pulled in.
     I thought I saw the fish, waiting at the edge of the lake for my dog to come out. But I was so scared to even look, I just ran straight home. (Somewhere right now, houses are running to their humans to take shelter.)
     I don’t know who is reading this, I don’t know what multiverse you are in, but they are real. I don’t know if you are reading from a universe where food is cooking you, where shoes are wearing you, where blankets are using you for warmth, but where I am, the fish are fishing us. If this doesn’t fill your head with thought,
     I don’t know what will.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Forever is a Dream.

Forever is a dream.

            They lay in the field, staring up at the stars, as they did every weekend. Weston and Violet lay on a blanket staring up, as they cuddled close. Today was a special day, a day they wouldn’t forget.
            “Happy one year, Violet.” Weston said, and kissed her forehead. Violet looked back up at Weston, and kissed his lips. She muttered the same thing to him, “Happy one year, Weston.”
            They laid there in silence, both so happy with their lives. The park they sat lay in was closed at night, but they had found an area where people wouldn’t look. Weston and Violet were under an old tree, and they were just around a hill. They were completely invisible to everyone else.
            “Do you fear death, Weston?”
            “Not if I am with you when it happens.”
            “I wish I could live with you forever. I wish we would never age, and we would always remain teenagers.”
            Weston thought about what Violet had just said. “Forever?” He asked. They were both seventeen, and like every other teenager, they used the phrase “I love you” too soon. But they meant it, when they first said it. They had been dating for only three months, and Violet had said it first. She was so scared to say it first, but she was afraid it wasn’t going to be said. Immediately after she had said it, Weston kissed her and said it back.
            “Yes, forever. Don’t you agree?” Violet asked.
            “…If I found a way to become immortal, would you really live with me forever?” Weston asked back.
            “Of course I would.”
            “Then I’ll find a way.”
            Violet tucked her face into Weston’s chest, and they laid there until the sun began to shine over the beautiful mountains. Weston packed up everything, and they went their separate ways, only to fall asleep in their beds because they had stayed up all night.
            This is the way anyone wanted to spend the first night of summer. On this very day, one year ago, Weston had asked Violet to be his at the end of the last school day. It was quite unexpected, too. But that was just how Violet had liked it, completely and without a doubt, spontaneous.

           
            Summer was great, and when Weston woke up, it was only about 8. He had been expecting to sleep in until around noon, but he had a lot on his mind. He woke up and went straight to his computer, without eating breakfast, to research how to become immortal.
            Weston had a little brother, named Tyler. Tyler attended the middle school that Weston used to go to.
            Tyler was stomping up every step headed upstairs, surely waking up their parents.
            “Good morning, big brother!” Tyler yelled at the top of his lungs.
            “Shut the fuck up, Tyler. You’ll wake up Mom and Dad. Go away.” Weston responded. Knowing that Weston would get angry, Tyler yelled, “Mom, Weston told me to ‘shut the fuck up!’”
            A faint voice could be heard from their parent’s room, saying, “Go to your room, Wes.”
            Weston quickly turned back around to the computer to print out the page he was reading, and he punched Tyler as hard as he could in his shoulder. “I hate you, Tyler. I’ve never liked you. Ever since you were born, I was begging Mom and Dad to take you back to the hospital.” Weston said. He grabbed his papers while Tyler just sat there trying to grasp what his older brother had just said to him.
            What Weston had said to Tyler was true; Tyler continued to cry whenever he was brought home. Weston was at the age of three at this point. Tyler cried and cried and cried. Weston walked into his parent’s room at about four in the morning to ask, “Mom, Dad? Can we take Tyler back now?”


            “Hey baby, how’s your day? I had fun last night.” Violet answered.
            “I found out how to become immortal.”
            “Oh, did you?” Violet was laughing at him.
            “I did.” Weston responded, dead serious.
            There was a silence over the line, and Violet giggled. “Well, what did you find?”
            “I can’t talk for too long, because I’m in trouble. But there is a grave in the cemetery way uptown, the name on the grave is ‘Ronald Hubbel.’”
            “Okay…?” Violet was confused.
            “If you kill a loved one or someone dear to you, get some blood, and pour it on the grave, Hubbel will grant you immortality.”
            “That sounds a little crazy, Weston. Listen to yourself.” Violet said. “Plus, who the hell is this Hubbel guy?”
            “I’m going to kill Tyler.”
            “WHAT?! WHY?!”
            “To be with you.” Weston responded.
            “Weston, you can’t.”
            “I’m going to slit his throat. We’ll see if I am immortal the next day, and if it worked, you can do it too.”
            “WESTON. NO. You can’t do this. Can’t you just cut his arm and get some blood?” Violet asked.
            “No, Tyler has to die. The trick will not work unless he is dead. The best way to kill someone, mortal or immortal, is by slitting the throat.” Weston explained.
            “You cannot kill an immortal person by slitting his or her neck.”
            “I know. That much is true. But listen. Love is the only thing that counteracts with immortality.”
            “Weston, this is fucking stupid. So you’re saying that tonight, you’re going to slit your brother’s throat, pour the blood on a grave, and live forever?”
            “Yep. That’s what I’m saying.” Weston said.
            “This is the dumbest thing I have ever heard.”
            “I’ll take you with me and we’ll go live somewhere far away from Colorado.”
            “This isn’t going to work, Weston.”
            “I love you, Violet.”
            “I love you too, but don’t do this.”
            Weston hung up.


            Richard Hubbel was a reject. An outcast. As a high school student, Richard was considered one of those kids that just wasn’t all there.
            Richard was a senior in high school when he met Tabatha. She was a girl that wasn’t quite there, either. But when they were together, they were the perfect match, and that was all that mattered.
            The year was 1967. One night during the summer, a neighbor reported screaming to the police from the Hubbel’s house, and the neighbor had also seen Richard running out of his house, with a glass of what seemed to be red wine.
            As Richard ran, he did not pay much attention to traffic. Cars were slamming on their brakes and swerving their paths to let Richard continue running. But a car driving a sixty miles per hour did not pay close enough attention, and slammed right into Richard, when he was just across the street from a cemetery in Colorado.
            The glass that Richard was holding, which had blood instead of wine, flew out of his hand across the street into the cemetery. The blood landed on a walkway, just next to a grave. A man walking by witnessed Tabatha, hopping the fence into the cemetery, to blow on that very concrete walkway. She was trying to blow the blood off of the concrete and onto the grave.
            They had a funeral for Richard. His family showed up, and even Tabatha’s parents arrived. They told Richard’s parents that Tabatha had run away.
            During the funeral, they mourned two deaths. Richard had slit his older sister’s throat, taken the blood and put it into a glass. His Mom had walked in just as he was leaving, and she screamed at the sight of her daughter laying there, dead.
            Richard’s sister was in her coffin; however, they never found Richard. Tabatha never came home.
            Legend has it, they both live somewhere in Minnesota, but Richard’s parents don’t know that. Richard Hubbel’s grave remains in Colorado.


            Weston and Violet were together at the park, but this time, the sun was still up. There were only a couple of clouds. Weston and Violet were sitting at the edge of the park’s playground.
            “Who am I supposed to kill, Weston?”
            “I don’t know, dear. Kill a cousin you don’t really like.”
            “Jesus Christ, Weston. I can’t believe you’re going through with this.”
            Violet began to cry. She was not a big fan of the idea of killing a loved one.
            “Violet, we’ll be teenagers forever. Don’t you want that with me? Don’t you love me?”
            “Of course I love you, Weston.”
            “I’m not asking for sex, Violet. This really isn’t that big of a deal.”
            “No, but you’re asking me to MURDER someone. You want me to END someone’s LIFE.”
            Weston kissed her cheek, and walked home.


            The sun had gone down. Weston remained silent at the dinner table. Tyler blabbered on about how his day was, and how he was going to have a lot of fun tomorrow. Weston snickered.
            Tyler, in no way shape or form, did anything to alter Weston’s decisions for what was to come later that night. Tyler threw broccoli at Weston, and he did not react at all. He did nothing, and as usual, Tyler received no punishment. Weston was always considered the bad child, because he was the older brother. It was never fair. If Weston broke a glass he was grounded for a week. If Tyler broke a priceless vase, he was only scolded. If Weston said anything, he would be in trouble. It caused him to bottle a lot of his emotions inside, because he could never say anything.
            Dinner went by quickly, and Weston got up to push his chair in, and put his plate by the sink as he was supposed to. He silently walked into the living room and began to watch some television, when just five minutes later, Tyler yanked the remote from Weston’s hands to change the channel.
            They sat there watching whatever Tyler wanted to watch, and Weston had no choice at all. Tyler flipped through music videos filled with big beat nonsense, and stupid reality shows like the rest of the population.
            The clock struck ten, and Weston went into bed. Of course, Tyler made a little remark as Weston was walking up the stairs. “Good night, faggot.” Weston continued to walk without paying any attention.
            It didn’t matter; it would all be over soon. He wouldn’t have to deal with Tyler anymore, and he could live with Violet, forever in happiness.
            Weston lay in bed, his arms above the covers, staring up at the ceiling. His phone vibrated, and he had received a text message from Violet. It only said, “I love you.” Of course, Weston sent a message saying the same thing.

            There are four definitions for the word “slit”. The first definition describes a narrow fissure. The second definition states, “A depression scratched or carved into a surface.” Synonyms for this definition are incision, scratch, prick, and dent.
            The third definition of “slit” states an obscene term for female genitalia. Synonyms for this definition are cunt, puss, pussy, snatch, and twat.
            The last definition intertwines with the first two definitions when it comes to what Weston was going to do to Tyler. The fourth definition states a “Long narrow opening”.
           
            Weston wasn’t afraid at all. It was as if he had been ready to do this for a long time. Maybe he had wanted to kill Tyler since he had told his parents to take him back. Maybe he was possessed by the thought of killing that there really wasn’t any turning back, not anymore. Weston’s mind had entered such a dark state that no one could get him out of it, not even the love of his life.
            The clock struck twelve. Weston had thought for two hours how he was planning to get out of the house after he had cut his brother’s throat. Good thing for him, Tyler was a heavy sleeper. Weston heard his front door open and close.
            Weston pulled the blankets off of him, and got up. He was wearing his tight jeans and a heavy coat. How he was able to be that warm under the blanket is beyond thought. He must have had his mind too deep in thought himself.
            Weston took slow, quiet steps down to the kitchen. The moon was full in the clear sky, and all of the blinds in the house were open. The moon shined bright into the house, anyone could have seen what Weston was doing.
            He went down the hallway and took a left into the kitchen. He walked past the right side of the kitchen table; the wood floor was freezing cold. Weston went past the oven, past the cookie jar, past the sink, to the corner of the kitchen. There, was his mother’s cooking knife collection. He went for the biggest one, and took it right off of the wall. Weston also grabbed a cup, for blood.
            He took the same journey back out to the hallway. Past the sink, the cookie jar, the oven, and past the kitchen table. Weston continued to take slow, quiet steps, and went up the stairs. Weston could hear a few movements upstairs, and it made him stop. It just sounded like Tyler was moving around in bed.
            Weston sat outside of Tyler’s room, for fifteen minutes straight. He made sure that there wasn’t any movement, any noise. He stood up, and twisted the doorknob to walk in. The blinds were closed; the room was nearly pitch black.
            Weston tiptoed up to Tyler, and took long deep breaths. If this was going to be executed, it had to be perfect. Weston could see Tyler’s long, greasy brown hair in the dark, covering his face.
            So, Weston put the long knife across Tyler’s neck. Weston smiled to himself and said, “I love you, little brother.” He pulled the knife back quickly, and a long open gash ran across Tyler’s neck. Blood spewed, and Tyler made the choking sound.
            Weston had regained conscious thought, and he had realized what he just did. He started crying, but he got the cup, and filled it up halfway with Tyler’s blood. Weston quickly tiptoed back outside of the room, and closed the door. Weston ran out to the garage and opened it. He grabbed his bike, while carefully holding on to the cup of blood. A few drops had run down the glass and onto his hand. He put a flashlight in his back pocket.
            Weston biked as fast as he could to the destination of his immortality.


            Weston, with the blood in his hand, had reached the cemetery. There was a hole in the fence, and he had crawled through it. The blood still filled the cup nearly halfway.
            The next problem that Weston had was that he did not know where the grave of Richard Hubbel was. He grabbed his flashlight and began running through the cemetery, until he reached the very middle of it.
            There was the grave. The name was right there. Richard S. Hubbel, rest in peace. Weston did not take his time; he immediately poured the blood onto the grave, and waited to see what would happen.
            Weston felt a quick rush crawl up his spine. He wasn’t cold, and it wasn’t a pee shiver, it had started from his feet and travelled all the way to his head. He felt better in a way.
            The impossible happened. Richard Hubbel’s grave immediately spawned a flower. A little dandelion, shot out of the ground and opened up. Weston did not know how to prove he was immortal.
            Weston had a thought run through his mind. He needed to go home and hide Tyler’s body, before it was morning. The moon was going down, and Weston sprinted back to his bike, and headed home.
            And for a second, Weston laughed to himself. No, not because he felt relieved that he had gained physical immortality, but because of the thought of being hit by a car and still being able to survive. Weston was not going to try it, not yet.
            The clock struck two in the morning as he was biking home, and Weston gave Violet a call. She didn’t answer. Weston assumed she was probably sleeping.


            Weston got home, scared of the thought of his parents being awake. He dropped his bike in the driveway, and walked in through the garage. No lights in the house were on. This was a good sign.
            Weston opened the door to the garage, usually the loudest door in the house. He took off his slip-on shoes immediately to lessen the noise. He had to go upstairs, and take care of Tyler’s body. Maybe he did it just to stay there a few more days with his Mom and Dad, without being interrupted or being annoyed. Maybe he did it because he wanted the attention. Maybe he did it so he could live there, forever.
            He tiptoed up the stairs and went into Tyler’s room. The fresh blood from the body was shining in the moonlight that had come from the hallway. Weston walked up to the bed, and ripped off the blanket.
            Tyler’s body was dressed in black completely. Weston grabbed Tyler’s wrist to check for a pulse, and it was smaller than usual. Weston’s heart dropped. For a final test, he reached at Tyler’s chest.
            Weston felt breasts.
            He panicked, and turned on the light.
            Lying there was Violet’s body.
            A note was lying on the bedside table.


            Just a few hours earlier, Violet called Weston’s house. Tyler answered, listening to his hip hop music on the television.
            “Yeah?”
            “Is Weston there? I tried to call his cell phone.”
            “No. He’s in bed. Do you want something?”
            “No, not really. I might come over to check on him.”
            “Well, I’m sleeping downstairs tonight, so be quiet when you come in. I won’t tell my parents.”
            “Hmm… Thanks, Tyler. Bye.”
            “Bye.”
            Tyler grabbed a couple of blankets and some pillows from his bed and ran downstairs. He turned the television off just before he went to sleep. He fell asleep around eleven.
            To make herself more unseen in the dark, Violet dressed herself in black to avoid getting caught. She went through people’s yards and avoided the sidewalk. Violet’s watch beeped, and said 12:00 whenever she got inside.
            Violet knew where Tyler’s room was. She tiptoed upstairs and left her shoes downstairs, hoping Weston wouldn’t see them in the dark. She twisted the doorknob into Tyler’s dark room and got under the blankets.
            Just then, she heard Weston’s door open.


            “Dearest Weston,
            Let me start off by apologizing. I was in love with you, but in the worst way possible, I did use you. Do you remember me ever talking about my first love a few years ago? Well, let me just say, he told me one night that he wished we last forever, as teenagers.
            So, do you know what I did? I went online. I researched how to become immortal, and in this small town of Littleton, there was a page about a man named Richard Hubbel. I looked him up, I studied his history, much like you did. Hubbel found a way to become immortal. When he was struck by a car, the blood of his beloved sister struck the grave of another man that found out how to become immortal.
            Questions still rise. The man that was immortal before Hubbel, was he even in the grave? Is Hubbel in his grave? Legend has it that he and his love, Tabatha, are still alive living somewhere far away.
            I killed my first love, Weston.
            And you were spot on, Weston. The only ways to kill an immortal person is by either slitting the throat (if they are in love with you.) or chopping off their head. And I am in love with you, and I am so sorry that I used you.
            So now, you have the Hubbel Curse. You must find someone to fall in love with you, so far deep in love that they would kill to be with you forever. Make them kill you somehow, so you don’t have to live in eternity alone.
            It’s a never ending curse, Weston. It can be stopped, but the person you love and the person that loves you are never, ever the same person. I didn’t love you as much as you loved me.
            I, again, am sorry. Your family should be up any minute. I suggest you run.
Sincerely,
Violet.”