Spoiler
It'll be a fantasy story, just wait.
Chapter One: My Average Day
I tilt my head. “We’re over?” I ask.
She nods.
I grin.
Then I push my hand through her chest and tear out her heart.
~
I wake up. It’s just another dream, I tell myself. Dreams have no power over me. I repeat this until I fall back into another fitful sleep.
This is a lie.
I repeat this until I forget about it. I get up and go sit down at my desk. I yawn. 12:54 AM, the clock blinks at me. I frown and turn the clock away from me. I look at my papers. They are rough drafts of an article about teens and texting. Since I am a responsible young adult who cares for my job, I start to type up the final article.
Another lie I wish was true.
No, I push aside the papers for something more favorable. I pull up my laptop and play music until my alarm goes off, 5 hours later.
I sigh and begin to get ready for my monotonous day at work.
~
Let me introduce you to my boss, Ms. Sanchez. She is the worst human I have ever met, I swear. She enjoys interrupting our work with chatter and jumps into conversations that aren’t her business. She loves scaring people (as in the sense of: You’re going to lose your job because of this.) and calling people rude names behind their back. She’s especially mean to me. She loves yelling at me for missing a comma or not capitalizing a word. She hates my “controversial” articles, and so now she assigns me articles to write about where I cannot have an opinion in it.
I sit, adding the finishing touches in my article, and there she is, looking over my shoulder.
“Do you need anything, ma’am?” I ask her, a little annoyed about her standing over me.
“Yes,” she barks. “When will you have that article in?”
“Soon.”
“Soon isn’t soon enough! It better be in by today or else you’re fired!”
I stand up, my hands shaking. I grab her and begin to yell, “It’s not due until Friday, you little bitch!” I keep shaking her by her neck. Her eyes widen as my hands squeeze her neck. They look as if they would pop out. Her face turns blue and purple. Then I let go. She falls to the ground, limp. I begin to kick her. My foot repeatedly hits her gut. I laugh as she coughs up blood. She begs for me to stop. I laugh and then send my foot smashing down on her neck. I crush it, and she lays in her own pool of blood, dead.
I stare in horror as this dark fantasy plays behind my eyes.
“What are you doing? Are you slow or something?” she says, her hands on her hips.
“No,” I murmur. “Sorry. I’ll have it today.”
She looks at me with distaste as she walks away.
~
I unlock my door and see my girlfriend on the couch, kissing some other guy. She doesn’t notice me. I walk over there and pull the guy off of her. I send my fist slamming into his face, sending blood splattering all over us. She gasps and begs for forgiveness as I continue to send my fist slamming into her new boyfriend. I yell, “How could you do this to me?”
I send a knife to his back and then turn on her next.
I pull her hair and drag her into the bedroom. “Do you want to know what happens to cheating sluts like you?” I yell. She shakes her head.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” she repeats.
I laugh. “Too late for that, my dear,” I whisper. I send the knife plunging into her chest. I pity her. I didn’t hurt her enough.
No, no, that can’t happen. That isn’t how the story ends. I stare at them for a few minutes, in disbelief, and then shut the door. I go back to my car and take a drive. It’ll be a long drive.
~
I sit on a bridge, staring blankly at the water. I'm sick of it. I can't do anything right. Ms. Sanchez knows I'm a peice of shit. My girlfriend prefers to do the dirty with another guy. My family ridicules me. They love making fun of me behind my back. He thinks he can write? Ha! He is stupid. He can't even string two words together without stuttering! How can he write?! Agh! My head hurts. I just want to end it all.
I stare at the reflection, slowly sliding off of the bridge. Did it just wink at me? I fall off and plunge into the Mississippi. My lungs burn with water as I sink farther and farther into oblivion...
~
"Had a nice dream?"
I tilt my head. “We’re over?” I ask.
She nods.
I grin.
Then I push my hand through her chest and tear out her heart.
~
I wake up. It’s just another dream, I tell myself. Dreams have no power over me. I repeat this until I fall back into another fitful sleep.
This is a lie.
I repeat this until I forget about it. I get up and go sit down at my desk. I yawn. 12:54 AM, the clock blinks at me. I frown and turn the clock away from me. I look at my papers. They are rough drafts of an article about teens and texting. Since I am a responsible young adult who cares for my job, I start to type up the final article.
Another lie I wish was true.
No, I push aside the papers for something more favorable. I pull up my laptop and play music until my alarm goes off, 5 hours later.
I sigh and begin to get ready for my monotonous day at work.
~
Let me introduce you to my boss, Ms. Sanchez. She is the worst human I have ever met, I swear. She enjoys interrupting our work with chatter and jumps into conversations that aren’t her business. She loves scaring people (as in the sense of: You’re going to lose your job because of this.) and calling people rude names behind their back. She’s especially mean to me. She loves yelling at me for missing a comma or not capitalizing a word. She hates my “controversial” articles, and so now she assigns me articles to write about where I cannot have an opinion in it.
I sit, adding the finishing touches in my article, and there she is, looking over my shoulder.
“Do you need anything, ma’am?” I ask her, a little annoyed about her standing over me.
“Yes,” she barks. “When will you have that article in?”
“Soon.”
“Soon isn’t soon enough! It better be in by today or else you’re fired!”
I stand up, my hands shaking. I grab her and begin to yell, “It’s not due until Friday, you little bitch!” I keep shaking her by her neck. Her eyes widen as my hands squeeze her neck. They look as if they would pop out. Her face turns blue and purple. Then I let go. She falls to the ground, limp. I begin to kick her. My foot repeatedly hits her gut. I laugh as she coughs up blood. She begs for me to stop. I laugh and then send my foot smashing down on her neck. I crush it, and she lays in her own pool of blood, dead.
I stare in horror as this dark fantasy plays behind my eyes.
“What are you doing? Are you slow or something?” she says, her hands on her hips.
“No,” I murmur. “Sorry. I’ll have it today.”
She looks at me with distaste as she walks away.
~
I unlock my door and see my girlfriend on the couch, kissing some other guy. She doesn’t notice me. I walk over there and pull the guy off of her. I send my fist slamming into his face, sending blood splattering all over us. She gasps and begs for forgiveness as I continue to send my fist slamming into her new boyfriend. I yell, “How could you do this to me?”
I send a knife to his back and then turn on her next.
I pull her hair and drag her into the bedroom. “Do you want to know what happens to cheating sluts like you?” I yell. She shakes her head.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” she repeats.
I laugh. “Too late for that, my dear,” I whisper. I send the knife plunging into her chest. I pity her. I didn’t hurt her enough.
No, no, that can’t happen. That isn’t how the story ends. I stare at them for a few minutes, in disbelief, and then shut the door. I go back to my car and take a drive. It’ll be a long drive.
~
I sit on a bridge, staring blankly at the water. I'm sick of it. I can't do anything right. Ms. Sanchez knows I'm a peice of shit. My girlfriend prefers to do the dirty with another guy. My family ridicules me. They love making fun of me behind my back. He thinks he can write? Ha! He is stupid. He can't even string two words together without stuttering! How can he write?! Agh! My head hurts. I just want to end it all.
I stare at the reflection, slowly sliding off of the bridge. Did it just wink at me? I fall off and plunge into the Mississippi. My lungs burn with water as I sink farther and farther into oblivion...
~
"Had a nice dream?"
Okay, two questions.
1.) Do you like it? Should I stop? What do you want to know? What should I have added? Is it too weird right now? Do you know what just happened?
2.) What should this guy's name be? I have no clue what it should be.
Happy Decemberween!!!
I just would like to see a bit more description maybe in the fantasy sections to distinguish them and up the gore factor. (I'm twisted, I know.) That way I think it would put a bit more substance in the writing while keeping the thought-process style consistent. Of course, these are totally personal suggestions, and I don't want to encroach on your creative rights. :3