GBAtemp Writers' Guild

[Shinigami357]

This is for the short story challenge [which prob means I'm screwed, LOL]. Gonna try it [again].

This is based on this thing I read that goes:

The shortest horror story: The last man on earth sits in a room. Suddenly, a knock on the door.

Spoiler

Here we are. Or rather here I am. Humanity is gone. I'd search for any survivors, were it not for the extremely toxic conditions outside. I doubt they'd survive too long, anyway.

I'm not entirely sure if what finished us off was the nuclear holocaust or the sudden climate shift. I suppose it doesn't matter. Really, the only reason we care why something is extinct is so we can learn from it. Obviously, the human race is never gonna learn anything ever again. That's always been our problem.

I look back. Why am I the one who got left here, alone? I'm not special. I'm not strong, gifted, intelligent, or even totally morally-upright. If anyone else was here to pass judgment, not even I would pick myself to represent our species.

But I digress. Here I am waiting for the end, for better or worse. Hell, even if the status quo stays - which looks likely by all indications - I won't be here for much longer, anyway. Perhaps I've already lost my mind. As it is, I'm already talking to myself. Certainly, watching the world you once knew crumble, alone, would be easier if you were insane, wouldn't it?

Even if I hadn't already fallen off the deep end, I will, soon. Either from lack of companionship - couldn't they have spared even a dog? - or from lack of proper nutrition. The rations I have will last hundreds of years judging by volume, true enough, but perhaps due to lack of human foresight - who would have thought we'd all be gone this early? - all of them expire in two months. Two. They might be good for another half a year, but soon enough, there won't be a thing left.

What should I do? Do I eat myself? Maybe that isn't so hard if you're crazy. Or should I save myself from it altogether? After all, who is there to stop me from taking my own life? Right now, no one else has any rightful claim to it. It's not like it will be a big loss for the human race. It's now or later, one way or the other, right?

What's that sound? Is it perhaps a product of my imagination? Did something mangle my mind when I was still exposed outside? Or perhaps I really have gone crazy? There's no way someone outside survived this long, right?

There it is again. It's unmistakeable, really, a knock on the door. Back in the old days, such a thing was the rule rather than the exception. Door-to-door salesman? Girl scout selling cookies? Some guy with a package? My, how things change, huh?

Well, better go answer it. It's not like there's an outside chance there's an axe murderer waiting outside.

It's essentially one long-winded monologue. I wanted to present the conundrum - the enigma, even - of how it could feel to be the last man on earth. Some of it is even my own introspection. Scary, isn't it?

 

[Gahars]

Alright, sounds good.

• User Name: Gahars

• Area of Expertise: I do a little bit of everything, but I mostly stick to narratives.

• First Language: English

• Activity: I've just joined, but I tend to be pretty active. Even when school starts, I should manage, at the very least, a few posts a day.

• How often do you write?: Often, whenever I have the time and inspiration.

Sample:

Spoiler

Mortality, Inc.

In the Et Life Spire, the largest building on the face of the planet, the receptionist stared at her newly painted nails, admiring the new color combination she had chosen. After 200 years of just yellow, she enjoyed the mix up. When one has the rest of eternity to look forward to, a little spontaneity breaks up the monotony, even if just for a little while.
Her quiet, uneventful day was broken up when a man, with the looks of a supermodel and the clothing of a vagrant, barged in. “Oh great,” she thought. “Another death seeker.”
“What do you mean I have to wait another 3 thousand years before I can even be reconsidered for euthanization?” he screamed, in a frenzied rage. Were it not for her indestructibility, she would have been genuinely frightened by this display instead of just quietly amused. “This is the fifth time I have applied, how can they decline me again?”
The receptionist rolled her eyes, having heard similar complaints thousands of time since she had been employed the year before. Following the procedure, she gave him the standard greeting in a dry monotone. “Welcome, sir, to the Et Life Spire, your one and only stop for life scheduling. How may I be of service to you today?”
“You can start by just killing me, that’s how you can help me!”
It was always the same response from these people, every single time. Not a week went by where she didn’t hear at least five people beg for their lives to be ended. She wished that once, just once, one of these death seekers would surprise her. Perhaps one would be grateful for the extra time; that would be a welcome change of pace. Alas, she doubted that she would ever be so fortunate.
“I’m sorry, sir, but as you must know, the Panel has the final say on this matter, not me. You’re going to have to wait for reconsideration, just like all the others.”
The man looked at her with a pitiful sense of desperation in his eyes. For a second, she almost felt sorry for this one. “Please,” he begged, “I have lived for over a hundred thousand years, and I just can’t go on anymore. I’m tired, and I just want to end it all. That’s all I’m asking for.”
“If the Panel wants you alive, then you will remain alive. No ifs, ands, or buts. In the mean time, why don’t you try something new? How about gender reassignment? Or you could always join one of those new cults.” She paused, trying to recall the name of the group her friend had joined just seven decades before, when it suddenly came to her. “The Mortalists, especially, are supposed to be a fun and exciting bunch. My friend joined recently, and she just loves it. Once she starts talking about them, she can’t stop.”
The death seeker’s look of desperation and hopelessness only worsened. “I have done all those things, and more, thousands of times already. I’ve done everything there is to do; there is nothing left for me to try.”
The woman responded in a chipper tone, sensing, to her relief, that her time with this man was almost done. “Well, sir, I don’t know what else I can say. You’re going to have to wait your turn to die. But hey, try to look on the bright side. I’m sure you’ll find something to pass the time with. Better luck next time!”
The man, overcome with despair, lethargically turned to the exit and shuffled out the door, muttering, “I’ve tried, and I’ve tried, but every single time…”
As he left, the receptionist remembered to give the standard farewell. “Thank you for choosing Et Life, your only, best choice. We hope to see you again soon.” However, by the time she had uttered these words, the sliding doors had already closed behind the death seeker. “Eh, whatever, I tried,” she thought.
She could never understand these people and their desire for death’s cold embrace. They had the gift of immortality and eternal youth bestowed upon them for free, a gift unlike any other, yet they were still so ungrateful. Instead of being thankful, Et Life received more and more requests for euthanization every single day.
“The nerve of some people,” she said aloud as she returned to admiring her freshly painted fingernails.

Hope you enjoy it.

Also: I'd like to get into reviewing too, so whenever I get around to doing a few reviews, I'll add that application, too.

 

[Sterling]

@ Gahars: I like that excerpt. The entire concept I have yet to see fully fleshed out anywhere. I would go so far to say original, but alas many things are hard to call that. If it becomes something more, I would buy a book like that in a heartbeat. At any rate, you are an astounding writer. I like the way you portray immortals. I would assume that would be my exact sort of reaction. Hahaha. Welcome to the Guild.

 

[Gahars]

Wow, thanks a lot.

I don't tend to show my writing to a lot of people, so positive feedback is always nice.

 

[wrettcaughn]

Wow, thanks a lot.

I don't tend to show my writing to a lot of people, so positive feedback is always nice.

If you have more you'd like to share I can set you up on the sharing site. just PM me an email address for permissions.

 

[Gahars]

Sounds good, I'll just have to find/write up more first. Thanks.

 

[Sterling]

I just added a new story to my upload page. Here is an excerpt:

Spoiler

I swung the 'fridge door closed. I looked at the bright red apple I had pulled from the basket, and polished it on my shirt. It was tasty looking, but I held on to it for a moment and inspected the fridge. It was a newer model. Which was good. It would have to last a long time before any more sears opened up. I stepped away from the fridge and walked to the spacey living room where my companions were relaxing in whatever space they could. There were piles of non-perishable supplies and heaps of many varied munitions. Everybody had their choicest weapons near them.

Sitting in a corner was the once loud, proud and heavyset Zaius. His real name was Greg, but he referred to himself as Zaius. The nickname stuck. The long year we have had however has made him lose weight, and the death of his family has made him quiet and somber. He is a much loved member of the group. He was ironically declared crazy before the outbreak hit, but his sense was just an act. He woke up just as hard as the rest of us.

In the opposite corner was Ralph. He was huddled in an involuntary fetal position. He had totally lost it when the infection hit. He was already borderline crazy before but the sight of the Zombies had caused him to crack. You see, he believes he is Link from The Legend of Zelda. He collected many things from the games. His collection included a fully functional replica of the Master Sword. A Hylian Shield, and a full Kokari outfit. When we found him, he was telling his stuffed faery Navi to shut the hell up. The odd thing was the sheer amount of undead that littered his lawn, house and room. We got as much as we could out of him, and the rest we got on the way with “Navi” as the mediator. He had taken the first step out of his room in a week. What he saw was a ton of “Re-Deads”. So he slowly backed into his room and played the Song of Suns on his exact replica Ocarina. Then the sun rose... Three hours later. The first thing he did was to open his door and toss the stuffed Faery at the Zombies. All the while he screamed, “SHUT THE HELL UP DAMMIT!!11!” The rest you know. There were none left to die again.

Sitting out on the enclosed porch were Jackie and Ross. Ross was polishing a huge grenade launcher we had liberated from a gang that didn't deserve it. (Long story.) He didn't look at it, but that was because his body has the ability to remember any motion without fail. He has some medical background and has been my friend through some crazy shit.

Jackie on the other hand was a small quiet girl. You wouldn't know it by looking at her, but she was a amazing sniper. She could put a .30-06 into rotting flesh from two football fields away. Another thing about her was she was crazy into anime. She even wore a shirt that depicted a main character from some obscure anime. We couldn't pass up any video store we passed on the highway if we took her scavenging. Not even the adult stores since we found the owner's stash of completely legal and non hentai anime.

Lying near the fireplace was Tony. He had a large scar running from the base of his neck to his belly button. I still remember how he got it. I'm still shocked that he survived. Idiot. He was a good shot, and a constant source of amusement at his denial of the infection. If we didn't know better, we'd say he was as cracked as Ralph.

In the big old armchair was Jordan. An enigma in itself, he was prone to accidents and zombie attacks. If we wanted to know if a building was infested, we just shoved him in first. The last few times he volunteered. Only because he knew if anyone would die first it would be him. The only reason he was in the armchair was because to get the privilege we drew straws. He won every time. It's the only luck he's had.

Riyo was sitting in the last available corner. He had his nose buried in a large volume. It was a manual for the well pump we have here. He was our handyman. He has kept the place running almost by himself. Of course he asked us from time to time to help, but we were “as dumb as a sack of bricks” as his Aunt would have put it. He alone has instructed us how to set up the mounted flame throwers fed by a new gas well. Electrified fences and lance pits with incinerators at the bottom. He was also working on a Plasma gun that shot bolts of pure energy. Melvin has eagerly nicknamed it the “Plasma Cutter”.


Who is Melvin? Well, he is the person who pretty much holds the entire group's moral together. He cracks jokes and funny stories at all hours of the day. He keeps kill counts, and scavenge assists. All the while still being the best shot out of all of us except Jackie, and me with a bow. When the infestation happened, he remarked that he's been waiting for this forever. He began living the American Dream when the Americans became a dying breed. His call sign starts with a head shot and ends with dismemberment. You fuck with his friends and you lose your genitals not so gently. He is the Jack of Headshots, and the Master of Dismemberment. An arm for an eye, and for that same eye, the rest of your limbs.

Me? Well I hate to talk about myself, but I'm the most kind and trustworthy guy left. I'm outgoing, trustful to a fault, and my aim is never too far from a target. I'm silent but deadly, with reflexes to boot. I'm the last thing you never see. I'm usually calm and composed, but lately I've been having trouble procuring my psychiatric medications to keep me as such. So I have to stop by any drugstore I see to get in touch with a pharmacist. As I remembered what happened to each of us in the first forty eight hours of the infestation, I took my first bite of my apple.

 

[Sterling]

Op has been updated.

Also, apologies for the double post.

//Op has been updated again.

 

[Shinigami357]

Wait, uh... Old8oy changed his username, apparently... I was like "who is this???" for a while there... LOL, anyway...

I've now just started to fully get out of a funk I'm having [more details on my newest blog], and back to my usual writing. In any case, I'd like to see what you guys think of this excerpt. It's basically the last part of the first chapter of this other story I'm writing.

[long wall of text follows]

Spoiler

It was the same nightmare. It varied very slightly each time, but it was no more a memory than an infinitely-looped sequence of events. Raven had gone through it each time, studying everything there was that he could study. It was a welcome distraction, and now that he knew he would have to move soon, it was all the more important to study it.

The sky was the same, at least as far as he could compare from what he sees in his nightmares and outside the window. The surroundings, on the other hand, were worlds apart. There were no trees; most buildings were reduced to ruins and debris. Even the air stank. Furthermore, in his nightmares, there was very little life.

There was only him and the unknown man, and on the skies above, the occasional dark figure soaring past. Just them and some ravens. There were no signs of life elsewhere.

Raven expected the nightmare to end, as it always did, after he had slain the man. It was an established pattern- every night, in the deepest of his REM sleep, the nightmare would start. It would go on, in first-person, until he realizes he’s bleeding, and then it ends. For some reason, every time, he wakes up screaming, as if in extreme pain.

Raven retracts the weapon on his arm, not bothering to look at the headless figure a few paces behind him. His midsection flares up in pain, and he looks down, seeing blood. A sound rang out, and he listens to a conversation he is having with someone from “ground control”. The man calls him XY-357, and tells him to stand by for extraction. Shortly after, he is engulfed by light.

The next thing Raven sees is Chloe’s face, horrified as she looks at him. He wakes up, sweating, but not shouting like usual. He bolts out of the bed, and opens the window. He stuck his head out, taking his surroundings in - the monitoring equipment and IV line that anchored him to the bed was removed after he was cleared following yesterday’s battery of tests. He took in the trees, the buildings, the faraway park, the cars cruising past, the various flora and fauna.

One thing was sure - if the memory in his recurring nightmares is real, he wasn’t from anywhere near here.


...


The "nightmare" referenced is here:

Raven opened his eyes. A figure limped away from him, making very slow progress as he struggled with his footing. It smelled. The stench of decay and destruction assaulted his nose. Where was he? What was happening?

Then, without warning, his arm moved. Wait… His arm? It moved, seemingly of its own accord, and he watched as a strange, glowing blade grew out of his forearm. A weapon, moreover it was his weapon. There was no time for further thought - as though by instinct, he focused on the figure in front of him. It was strange, unnerving almost: heartbeat and respiration slowed down, muscles tensed up, pupils constricted, focusing only on the living thing before him.

He knew at once what he was doing, - one doesn’t draw his weapon on a whim - but there was nothing to be done about it. Everything after that happened so fast. One lunge, one swing of the arm - he didn’t even turn back around to check on the carcass. After that, the weapon on his arm was gone, as though it knew that its job was finished. Then he looked down, and saw he was bleeding.


....

NOTE:
- The nightmare is itself a reference to the prologue.

Yeah, I know... I didn't include it here because it was too long.
- REM [rapid-eye movement] sleep is when most of the dreams we remember occur.
- Raven [the main character; Chloe is the other] is in a hospital at the time. [That's the second time I wrote a first chapter situated in a hospital]

Did it work? The purpose is to specify the differences between his nightmares/memories and the present. As it is, the whole thing ends with the realization that he is not from there [or here, rather, since the overall setting is Earth].

 

[Gahars]

It's just a little difficult to tell overall without the rest of the story for context, but from what you've provided, yeah, I would say it works.

 

[Shinigami357]

Well, for the most part of what little of the story there is [just the prologue, ch1 and a bit of ch2 right now], the whole "nightmare/memory" thing isn't very integral yet. It's mostly character development and setting up [I'm a "slow burn" kind of writer, I guess]. As it is, right now the whole interaction between chapter 1 and the prologue is to start creating the link between the character in the prologue to the character in the rest of the proceeding chapters [because they're more-or-less the same], and is the reason for needing to show the contrast.

Or at least that's how it is in my head, which is why I wanted the feedback. It's much appreciated.

 

[Gahars]

Alright, posting a little review I typed up less than a week ago as my writing.

As for the planning... I have none. I generally don't like to preplan too much of my writing; I find I write better when I improvise as I go along, only returning later to fix any continuity mistakes.

Spoiler

Babylon 5, Season 4: Episode 22, The Deconstruction of Falling Stars

(There shouldn’t be any major spoilers here for anyone who is interested. I try to list all the details as basically as possibly. Still, if you don’t want the details to be spoiled at all, take note.)

Whenever somebody mentions science fiction, the big names like Star Trek instantly come to mind, and for good reason. These are the shows that made the medium respectable on television, and over the past 40 or so years, have attracted numerous devotees. While there can be no understating their importance, one series seems to be criminally ignored by many to this day: Babylon 5.

Babylon 5 was the dream project of prolific writer J. Michael Straczynski (He’s done everything from the Amazing Spider-Man comic series to the movie Changeling), a space opera following the many inhabitants of the eponymous space station as war between ancient races and conspiracies come to light. The show was, in its creators own words, “a five season long miniseries”: everything had been planned out from the very beginning, with almost every single episode tying into the well thought out plot.

The show, despite all of its positive traits, faced serious setbacks in its fourth season, when it appeared that it could face cancellation. Many of the plotlines had to be condensed, with some others either left vague or ignored, in order to give the show a proper resolution. This is apparent in the final episode of the season, which acts also acts as a series finale of sorts (luckily it was renewed at the last second, giving Straczynski the five seasons he had anticipated). Despite the challenge of concluding a storyline that hadn’t really been concluded, the episode managed to pull it off spectacularly.

The episode begins with the characters celebrating the marriage between two of the main characters along with the birth of a new alliance in the “present day” (The year 2262). The many difficult wars and struggles the characters have faced lie behind them now; all they can focus on is the bright future ahead of them.

We then see that what we are actually viewing is a recording, observed by a mysterious figure interested in all the archives relating to the main characters. The rest of the episode shows us, the viewer, these glimpses into the future of the universe.

The first segment, set in the same year, shows a very Fox News/CNN like news channel, called ISN, having several pundits debate over the merits of the decisions the cast has made over the course of the series. It’s almost a perfect recreation of the type of programming these channels hold today; without the reference to future events, it could be difficult to tell the difference.

The next one takes us 100 years to the future, where several historians are dissecting the hype around the Captain of B5 and his wife. They claim that they were not actually significant, but instead merely latched onto popular tides. This is notable for hinting at many of the plotlines to come and the disastrous outcomes, along with the Telepath war that was built up throughout the shows run. This isn’t the first time the series used the future to foreshadow the past, a technique used consistently throughout the show.

The next segment is 500 years past the present, set in a holographic projection. A fascist, very 1984-like branch of Earth is attempting to expand its borders and brake away from the alliance created by the B5 crew. To do this, one of the members has created replicas of the crew, down to their personalities, in order to create new “historical” videos to cast them in a bad light. This is a nice call back to the despotic reign of President Clarke (also very 1984-like; JMS must have been a big fan), and gives Garibaldi, the chief of security, one last victory for “the good guys”.

(This is a little off topic, but two great moments from this part are when Captain Sheridan and Doctor Franklin are programmed to act as evil dicks. The actors evidently had a lot of fun playing up their evilness, and seeing them act so out of character is darkly humorous. The gleam in Richard Biggs (whose character cares more for the wellbeing of his patients than his own) eyes as he relents the fact that children aren’t surviving vivisections is priceless.)

The next video in the archive takes place 1000 years after the series. The war from the previous segment sent man back to the Bronze Age, and most have turned away from the dangers of science. Only a single order of monks has taken it upon themselves to preserve and rebuild the old technology. The characters of the show have now become the stuff of legends, similar to King Arthur and his round table, with much doubt left over whether or not they even existed. Babylon 5, despite JMS being a noted Atheist, always treated the subject of religion very respectfully, and this vignette is no different. A great quote from the episode, cementing the ongoing theme that both rationality and faith are important in the human condition, goes, “Faith and reason are the shoes on your feet. You can travel further with both than you can with just one.” Even as a non-believer myself, I appreciate the respectful tone.

Finally, the archive ends, and we are now one million years in the future. The figure, a robed man, saves the information and sends it along to “New Earth” for an upcoming celebration, content with his findings. As he walks away, with news of an imminent supernova, we see that man has ascended physical forms to become beings of energy (similar to the Vorlons before them). As his ship flies away, the sun explodes, taking Earth with it.

Finally we return to the present, with the Captain and his wife in bed, wondering if, in the end, their actions meant anything in the grand scheme of history. The episode has given us the answer, that yes, our efforts always matter. It’s a simple ending, but also quite powerful.

And honestly, that is the biggest problem with the episode. It is too perfect of an episode; with a season left to watch, I’m hesitant about continuing. After all, when you make this good of an ending, how do you possibly top it?

Still, on its own, this is a great episode that really stands out from an already great television series, and definitely worth watching. If you have never heard of Babylon 5, then I highly recommend that you give it a watch; while the effects and costuming could occasionally suffer from the low budget, the series as a whole never faltered.

-Gahars

Warning: It is kind of long.

 

[DrOctapu]

A Thousand Needles
Didn't write this, not that talented. A (dying, currently hospitalized) friend of a friend did.

 

[shyam513]

Hey guys, sorry I've been away. My A levels just started, and so I've been incredibly busy trying to hit the ground running. To make up for it, here's a short excerpt of my current novel

Spoiler

If I live to be as old as those Ichrath that I was soon to meet, I doubt I would ever again see a sight as beautiful and terrifying as the one laid out before me. As I drew up my horse, and looked around the glade where we were, I could not help but shiver, for the glade was beautiful, but also felt as if it were in the grasp of some strange and otherworldly power, one far greater than my own.
For in this glade, no matter where one looked, one could not see the passing of time. Over the time it had taken us to arrive here, we had passed well into winter, yet all the trees here held all their leaves. Even though a gentle breeze was stirring in the glade, the trees did not move, as if they were fixed in place. As I rode over to one, I noticed a drop of dew, which must have recently fallen from one of the leaves. The dew did not fall. It merely stayed suspended on the leaf, as if held there by one of the invisible threads of fate. Looking at the leaf, and the dew upon it, frozen thus for the whole of eternity, I could not help but shudder at the thought of the power behind the one who could command an entire forest to halt in it tracks, to ignore the primal commands of nature. And, for once in my life, I was truly afraid. For whatever powers were at work in that glade, I knew then that they were far greater than mine could ever hope to be. Across the glade, Kaelani seemed to be similarly affected, and as I rode over, I saw what it was that had caught her attention. A butterfly, with its wings spread wide, was perched on a leaf, as if preparing to fly for the first time. But, like everything else, it was frozen in place. It was bound by the power that rules over all our lives – the unrelenting power of time.

P.S For the record, the Ichrath are a race of immortals

 

[Sterling]

Just an update for you all, I haven't had access to a reasonable computer for days so I haven't been able to update the OP for a bit. I just started classes to become a full fledged PC IT guy. In 16 weeks I will have enough knowledge and experience a guy with 3 years of work environment experience will have. It's tough going, but I'm getting the hang of it slowly. (Anyone ever heard of Scott Mueller?)(Lol)

 

[Sterling]

Apologies for the double post (again), but the OP has been updated with a new challenge of the week.

My dad is great
He doesn't mind when I date
He's honest and out going
Even though his back is losing

My mother is awesome
He love always blossoms
Without my mom I'd be no one
I'd be all by my lonesome

My brother for keeping his space
Even though his intellect loses the race
He's kind and nice
He's even cool as ice

Without my grand father I would go no farther
He's always been there with encouragement
With him around there is no I can't
My love for him springs from the same well as his daughter

My grand mother lo and behold a saint
With her around there is no complaint
She's a pacifist throughout
A peacemaker no doubt

 

[Blaze163]

You guys know I write a hell of a lot. Reviews, Top Ten lists, serious articles, text books, novels, pretty much anything that be committed to paper via the gift of the word I've tackled at some point. So if I'm welcome to, I'd like to join this here guild.

USER NAME: Has always been and will always be Blaze163

Area of Expertise: Top Ten lists, reviews, fiction stories, fanfics, you name it I can do it.

First Language: English is my only real language. I can speak a little French, Japanese, and Al Bhed, but none of them seem to come in handy for anything other than insults or chat-up lines

Activity on the 'temp: I write a new blog whenever I'm bored, I'm usually cruising the message boards in the background most of the day even if I don't post much, and I write top ten lists to be posted as blogs usually once a month, but I've been a bit lax with it recently...

Work Samples: See blogs, top ten lists published a while back, etc. Two of my top ten lists were made featured blog for the month.

I can write, review, or whatever. Just need an outlet for my creative side more than anything.

 

[Sterling]

I've seen your work Blaze. Welcome to the guild sir.

 

[wrettcaughn]

Been a while since I've posted anything here. Been busy but I've still been writing, more music than words though.

Here's a song I'm working on right now. Not quite finished but it fits with the challenge for this week so here goes:

Spoiler

Not So Easy
Oh Lord,
What have I done
To deserve such a beautiful, shining sun?

The fire
It burns so bright
I'd let it scorch my eyes just for one look at that light

I know.
Lord I know
I've made mistakes
And I see
I see
They can never change
I can only hope for forgiveness

The seasons
They will change
But the cold and the bitter hearts always remain

So many lessons
Learned the hardest way
Watch the burning man drown because that's the price he pays

I know.
Lord I know
I've made mistakes
And I see
I see
They can never change
I can only hope for forgiveness
I can only hope, some day, they'll understand

Edit: finished song...

 

[p1ngpong]

The first three parts of a story I gave up on because of a lack of interest. I originally envisaged it to be a six part story. Should I finish it?

Malcolm Chapter 1

Spoiler

I am cold and hungry, wet and lonely. Its a really bitter night, every night has been like this since I've been out here. At least this doorway cuts out the wind a little, these boxes help. But my feet are freezing, like blocks of ice, I cant really feel them any more, I just feel numb and cold. I wish they hadn't taken my shoes, that was the worst thing, in comparison to all the other things I lost. I sleep for maybe five minutes at a time, and then just snap awake again when I hear something. I'm still really afraid that they will find me again, even though I have nothing left for them to take.

I've got to just wait until daylight, when people start going to work. I can beg them for some change then. Maybe a kind stranger will show me some sympathy, instead of just ignoring me and walking past me like I am not there. Talking on their phones, texting, drinking their expensive cups of coffee, like I used to do. Maybe I can get something to eat if I can get some money and get served, if I can muster up the courage to stand in line with those people, I just feel so ashamed when they look at me.

I fucking... hate this so much... I cant see a way out, I... just don't know what to do. My life is fucked, I don't know when it happened. I hate this, I hate this... I hate myself. I'm dirty, cold all the time, my mouth stinks, it feels horrible, I haven't brushed my teeth in a month. I have to use the streets as a toilet, wipe myself with the news papers people throw away....

It wasn't always like this...

I had a job, an apartment, a life. But at some point I started feeling really sad. I hated the job back then, I wish I was back there now, serving customers, dealing with their bullshit. Dealing with my bosses bullshit. But I got sad, well, I thought I was sad then. Its nothing compared to how I feel now. Now, I just wish I was dead. When I started to feel sad I started to go into work late, then I stopped going into work altogether for days on end. My boss would call, I wouldn't answer, then I got the letter telling me I was fired. So I stopped getting out of bed, I would just lay there, sad in the dark. Crying.

I ran out of money, so I started selling my stuff, TV, MP3 player, laptop, everything I had. I didn't care that much anyway, I had stopped using them. When the money ran out I got evicted, my landlord was sorry for kicking me out, but I don't blame him, it was my fault I couldn't pay the rent.

The first night on the streets wasn't that bad, at the time I hated it. But at least I was warm, at least I had a pair of fucking shoes on my feet. I found a doorway to sleep in, it stank of piss. But at least not that many people walked past me, so I didn't have to avoid eye contact with them. In the morning the lady who owned the store would ask me to leave, I would say sorry to her, with my head down, and shuffle off. She was lovely, pretty, and after a few days started to bring me coffee and something small to eat before asking me to go. The first time she did that, I just completely broke down in front of her, and then I walked away. I wish I could still be there now, but I am so afraid to go back.

It was the second or third week, when they attacked me. I could sleep well back then, for maybe half an hour at a time, unafraid and relatively warm. It was late when they hit me in the head, I didn't know what was going on, I think they kicked me. Everything was slow for a second as my head tilted back, I could see balls of light in the corners of my eyes wriggling around, I guess I was seeing stars. Next thing I know I got kicked again, and they started to punch me, punches and kicks, I don't know how many of them there were. They pulled my coat off of me, and were going through my trouser pockets, I didn't dare move. I could just about squeak out "stoppp... please stoppp." They started to pull my shoes off, thats when I started to kick and tried to fight back, and that's when they started beating me again.

They took my shoes, coat, the little money I had and my bag, which had some pictures, clothes and the few personal things I had left in it. They took everything I had and just started to walk away, I ran the other way, barefoot in the rain.

I cried for days after.

Its daylight now, time to go and see if I can beg for a few dollars, to get something to eat. And hope that someone can save me. While trying to avoid peoples eyes at the same time.

I have been begging for hours. And I haven't gotten a penny. The streets are busy, everyone's in their own little world. I'm so hungry I feel like I'm going to pass out. Its a feeling beyond hunger really, its just pain. I have been looking at dustbins over the last few days, because I am so desperate, the little amount of pride I have left is stopping me from going through them. But I am standing next to one now. I can see half a sandwich in there, how could someone throw that away? I'm just standing, looking at it, for ten or so minutes, I start to reach towards the bin, I can feel the tears coming. My hand is in the dustbin, my fingers are on the sandwich. Suddenly I feel someone grab my hand.

I look at the man holding my hand, he is old, scruffy, he looks homeless too.

"what... what are you doing?" I ask.

"What's your name son?" He asks back.

"Malcolm..." I replied, still wondering what he wanted. That was the first time I had told anyone my name since I became homeless. It was the first time anyone has asked me what my name was.

"Malcolm, hi, I'm Louis." He smiled at me through bad teeth.

"Malcolm, you don't need to eat that, we can eat better than that son. Come with me, and we can get something better to eat."

He turned around and started walking. I just stood there looking at him, I didn't know what was going on, if I could even trust him. After a few steps he stopped and turned around, looked at me, and beckoned me to follow him. I don't know what he wants, or where he is going to take me. But fuck it, I have nothing left to lose. So I started to follow him, while wondering what will happen to me when we finally get to where he is going to take me.

Louis Chapter 2

Spoiler

It was a cold night, but I slept well, I think I slept too long, it seems pretty late, oh well. My bones hurt, damn cold, my joints have been feeling the cold for too long. I sit up, rub my eyes. The alleyway is empty as usual, people only come here to throw out or pick up the trash. It smells nice at this time of the day here, the exhausts from the kitchens of the coffee shops and café's that sit in front of the alley fill the air with delicious smells. I smell fresh coffee being brewed, sandwiches being toasted, meat, eggs, potatoes being cooked. Its making me hungry, very hungry.

I look to the left and pick up my scruffy backpack, I open it up. "What's for breakfast?" I say loudly, to nobody but myself. I look through the packs of sandwiches I have in there, king prawn, roast beef, Mexican spicy chicken, a blt. I take out the blt and kind prawn sandwiches, open them up and start eating away. "Delicious!" I say loudly, to nobody but myself. Washed down with a small bottle of freshly squeezed orange juice, its the kind of breakfast that any person stopping by the shops on the other side of the alley would eat at this time. The only difference between them and I is that they have jobs, homes and money. And all I have is this alley, the clothes on my back, this rucksack and a chipboard roof between two dumpsters.

After I eat I go through my daily ritual, I put the roof behind one of the dumpsters, along with my cardboard floor, I throw the sandwiches I have left into one of the dumpsters too. I don't need those any more. I close my rucksack, put it on my back, and walk out of the alley into the busy streets ahead. The streets are busy, but everyone is in their own little world, they only talk into their cell phones, they only hear through their headphones. Nobody looks at anyone else, some people look at me, then quickly look away, I always smile when they look at me and hold their gaze for more than a second.

I smile at them through my bad teeth, and they quickly look away again.

Dan's liquor store is still closed, he hasn't been opening on time lately. Once or twice a week he doesn't open at all. I should talk to him when I see him next, he seems sad these days. I keep on walking, one of the clerks of the grocery store next to Dan's is sweeping the entrance to the store. "Morning" I say to him, "morning Lou" he replies. "Have you got anything for me today?" I ask him, "Sure do, its out in the back" he replies. "Any work?" I ask him back. He looks at me and shakes his head "Not today, sorry" he answers back. I nod my head at him, "much obliged, and thank you." He smiles at me and carries on sweeping, I make my way to the alley behind the stores.

There is a small cardboard box just behind the grocery store, that's for me. I sit down next to it and start going through its contents. A few bags of expired peanuts, some cans of expired soda, some bad fruit and a couple of cans of expired luncheon meat. I take the nuts, a couple of cans of the soda and a couple of cans of the meat, put them in my rucksack and make my way back into the street.

There isn't a lot going on today, I have been walking for an hour or so, nobody has anything for me today. I should turn back soon, and see if Dan's liquor store is open, my knees hurt, hopefully he has something for me so I can get my medicine. As I turn a corner I see a man standing next to a bin, my eyes are bad these days but I can tell he is like me, he is homeless. As I walk closer I see he doesn't have any shoes, poor guy, just standing there, he looks desperate, he looks distraught. He starts to reach into the bin, tears are rolling down his face. All the people walking past don't give a fuck, they just keep on walking, they may glance at him for a second, then look away again. I walk towards him and stand next to him, he doesn't even notice me. I grab his hand just before he grabs a dirty, half eaten sandwich from the dustbin. He sort of half jumps and turns his head in my direction. His eyes meet mine for a second then he looks down at my chest.

"what... what are you doing?" He asks me, his voice was quiet and filled with fear.

"What's your name son?" I ask him, while squeezing his hand gently.

"Malcolm..." He replied to me.

"Malcolm, hi, I'm Louis." I smiled at him through my bad teeth, while he looked up at me.

"Malcolm, you don't need to eat that, we can eat better than that son. Come with me, and we can get something better to eat."

I let go of his hand, he pulls it back to his body fast. He still looks terrified, but the tears had stopped rolling down his face, where the tears had rolled down his face they had made slightly clean channels and streaks. He had other channels and streaks like that, which looked dry and older. He must cry a lot I thought to myself. I started walking back the way I came, I walked a few steps and turned around, he was still frozen to the spot. I beckoned him to follow me, he seemed to think for a second, then I saw him shrug. He started to follow me.

As we walked Malcolm wasn't saying anything, his head was down looking at the floor the whole time. I took my rucksack off my back, opened it up and started to dig through it. I got a couple of bags of expired nuts, a can of expired soda and gave them to him. "You look like you could use these Son." I said to him, he slowly took them from my hand, the tears were rolling again. He opened up the bags of nuts, one after the other, and wolfed down handfuls of nuts at a time until they were all finished. He opened the soda and took a couple of swigs, and looked at me "Thank you Louis... that was kind..." he said to me. "Its ok son, think nothing of it." I replied. "And please, call me Lou" Malcolm nodded his head at me and smiled, he had good teeth, he must be new to the streets.

We walked a little longer, until we reached a charity thrift store. "First stop Malcolm!" I walked inside, he followed behind me. I walked up to the man at the counter, he looked over at me and smiled, I smiled back at him. "Afternoon Lou, how are you?" He asked. "I am good buddy, but my friend Malcolm here needs help, can you help us please?" He looked at Malcolm and looked down at his feet, his smile went away. "Sure I can" he said as he made his way out from the back of the counter. He took a pair of boots from one of the shelves and handed them to Malcolm. "These look around your size." Malcolm took them from him, sat down on the floor straight away, put the boots on his feet and started lacing them up. As soon as they were laced he jumped back up, and grabbed the man's hand and started to shake it with both of his. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you." Malcolm said, suddenly he stopped shaking his hand and let go, his face dropped. "I.... I don't have any money...." Malcolm said quietly. "Its ok." The man said with a grin, I don't want any money. "Also..." he walked towards a rack of clothes, "Its pretty cold out, you could probably use this." He handed a coat to Malcolm, it looked pretty new, I was a bit jealous of that, I could do with a new coat myself. Malcolm thanked him about five more times again, as did I, and then we made our way back out to the street.

As we walked I looked over at Malcolm, he wasn't smiling, but he didn't look sad. He was still looking down at the floor though. "You know we aren't any different from all of these people." I said. "All it takes are a few missed pay cheques, a few bills through the door, and they would be out here, with us." Malcolm looked over at me and nodded, then he looked back down. "You shouldn't feel ashamed son, its not your fault." "It is..." he said, "I don't know what's wrong with me, but something is wrong with me, I'm sure of that." He clenched his teeth. "I have been feeling sad for a long time, and I did this to myself, I fucked my own life, now I'm here." I didn't know what to say to that, we carried on walking for a few more minutes. "I think... I think I'm sick Lou, but not in my body." Malcolm stopped walking, so did I. He looked at me and pointed at his head. "I think I'm sick here, and I can't fix it with a band aid." I looked at him and put my hand on his shoulder. "We all get sick from time to time, sick in that way, in our heads, in our hearts, it can get better, but it takes time." Malcolm nodded his head again. "I hope I can get better... I don't want to feel like this any more". And with that, we kept on walking.

We walked for a little longer, my knees and hips were on fire, I had a throbbing pain going down my back. We reached Dan's store, he was open. "lets go in here, this guy is my friend" I said "He sometimes gives me small jobs, I think we could both use a little money." We walked in and the smell of alcohol hit me straight away, but it wasn't coming from the shelves full of booze. It was coming from Dan. "Hi Lou." He said, and held out his hand, he nodded at Malcolm, I shook his hand. "Hey Dan, this is my friend Malcolm, have you got anything for us today?" I asked. "Sure do, I've got a ton of trash out the back that needs to be sorted and thrown out, and a ton of booze that needs to be shelved, you guys want to help me out with that?" Malcolm looked around nervously, he looked out of the window, there were a lot of people walking past the store. "I can take care of all the trash... Dan." He said, I guess he didn't want people looking at him. "Ok" I said, "I know where all the bottles go anyway, and I want to speak to Dan too" "Its just through there." Dan said to Malcolm "There's a load of boxes that need squishing before they can be put in the dumpster, and if you could sweep up a little after, I would appreciate that too."



I nodded at Dan and Lou, and made my way out to the back, I saw the boxes and started to flatten them out, there was a lot there, but I was happy to do it. This was the first type of work I have had in six months. As I was working I thought of Lou, I am glad he found me, I know I was dying on my own out here. I still feel sad right now, but I am not feeling absolutely fucking crushed like I did before. Maybe there is some hope out here, I thought nobody gave a shit about me, but just today three people have helped me already. Food, shoes, a coat, some work. And they don't even know me. Plus there was that lady at the store, I still don't know what the store sold, or her name, I was just lost in my head while I slept there. The shutters were down when I got there too, and I would always leave before she opened, I never saw inside. Maybe I can go there with Lou, I should thank her for being kind to me. If Lou is with me maybe I wont be as afraid of those.... those fucking scumbags who beat and robbed me.

I started feeling angry at the thought of them, but I didn't cry this time. They anger helped me crush the boxes though, I stamped on them with my boots, I imagined I was stamping on their fucking heads. After a while I was done with the boxes, and put them all in the dumpster, even thought they were flat the dumpster was still overflowing. I don't think Dan takes the trash out often, I guess he just waits for Lou to do it. I grabbed the broom and started to sweep up, there was dry vomit around the place, and some fresh stuff. It was pretty disgusting but I swept it all into a pile and then swept it into the gutter. After I was done I sat on a plastic crate, I was feeling hungry again, those nuts helped but didn't go a long way, I wonder how much Dan will give us for this? It cant be a lot, but maybe we can buy something to eat with it.

After a while Lou came out the door in the back, he looked a little troubled, but when he saw me he smiled through bad teeth. "I love pay day!" He said and reached into his pocket, he pulled out a small bottle of whisky. "Oh..." I said, "Dan doesn't give you money for this?" "I don't need money son." He replied, "but this medicine, that I do need, come on lets go." I got up and followed him to where he was going, I wasn't afraid to follow him now.

We walked for a minute or two at a really slow pace, Lou was making small groans as he walked, I think he was in some sort of pain. I looked around, and I suddenly stopped. I know where we are, this is close to the area where I was robbed, I felt a lump in my throat. I felt afraid. "What's wrong?" Lou asked. "Its... its dangerous here." I replied. "Its dangerous everywhere, when you are like us, its not like we will call out and a cop will come running to our rescue." He had a point I thought to myself. "Besides" he continued "we are home now!" He pointed to an entrance to a back alley, I followed him in there, even though I was scared now, but fuck it.

We walked into the alley, there wasn't anyone around, I could smell food and coffee, it made me hungry. Lou walked to a dumpster and opened it up. He pulled out a bag of trash and opened it. "AHA!" He exclaimed "I love pay day!" He started to laugh as he rummaged through the bag, he threw something in my direction, I grabbed it. It was a smoked salmon sandwich, clean, packaged, in perfect condition. "Don't worry" he said "they are expired but fresh, just thrown out today, they cant sell them any more." I looked at him with the sandwich in my hand "Go on boy, eat up, two hours ago you would have paid five bucks for that." I immediately opened it and started eating. Lou put a bunch of sandwiches into his rucksack, and we walked to the end of the alley.

He put his bag down, and went behind a dumpster, he pulled out a wooden board and some big sheets of cardboard. He put the wooden board on top of the two dumpsters and the cardboard on the ground between them. "Welcome to my home!" he laughed. "Come on, sit sit." He said, he sat down, I sat next to him, he took out a sandwich from his rucksack and tossed it to me. Roast chicken and stuffing, I always hated roast chicken and stuffing sandwiches. I started to wolf it down. It was late now and dark, I must have had seven sandwiches, that was the most I had eaten in over a month, since I became homeless. The whisky we had drunk had made us both sleepy, Lou was snoring, I could feel myself dozing off. I fell asleep.

I must have slept for a few hours, when a noise woke me up, someone was running towards us. All I could see was his red top. "Oi you!" He shouted at me. I immediately felt frozen to the spot. "HEY, GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING COAT NOW!" He shouted, Lou sat up like a shot. The man in the red top pointed something at me, it was a knife, it had blood on it. "Give me your fucking coat now, or I'm going to stab you up!"

Daniel Chapter 3

Spoiler

I woke up with that same feeling, the one that I had become used to. My head ached, my stomach was churning and my mouth was dry and rancid. I hated waking up with that horrible taste in my mouth especially, but I had become used to it by now. I felt cold, I hadn't slept in between the sheets of the bed again, but on top, fully clothed, but I was still cold. I hated this big empty bed so much, whenever I lay in it all it stirs up is bad memories. I turn my head towards the bedside table and look at the half empty bottle of bourbon sitting on top of it. The bottle was always half empty, sometimes completely empty and sometimes broken on the ground. I pushed the bottle out of the way, fuck, its 11am. I was late again.

I didn't bother showering or changing my clothes. I brushed my teeth though, to try and get rid of the bad taste in my mouth. I brushed for five minutes but the taste was still there, just with a sickly taste of mint at the tip of my tongue. I walked to the front door, I had mail again, bills to pay. I picked them up but didn't open them, there was no point, I had no money to pay them anyway. I put them on the the little table next to the door, on top of all the other letters I hadn't opened and picked up my keys, I left my car keys though, I felt too dizzy to drive, to drained. I wasn't allowed to drive my car any more anyway.

The long walk to my store caused my head to ache even more, my empty stomach to churn even more, my mouth to get more dry and bitter. I felt like I was in a haze as I walked, like it was a death march. My steps erratic, as I walked past people I could feel their eyes on me, when I walked past someone I could smell how clean they were, their shampoo, their soap. I knew they could smell the poison on me, the poison I tried killing myself with the night before, the poison I drink every single night.

I finally reached the store, thank God, I felt sick as hell. I put the coffee and sandwich I had picked up along the way on the floor and raised the shutters. I had forgotten to lock them again, and the door, oh well, I didn't really care anyway. I wish someone would have walked in and stolen all the poison from the shelves while I was passed out drunk last night, at least I wouldn't need to sell any poison to people again today. I sat down behind the counter and looked around, fuck I hate this place. Half the shelves were empty, not because I didn't have any stock, but because I couldn't bring myself to put the bottles on the shelves. I sipped the coffee, it was hot and bitter, when it hit my stomach it churned with what was left of the alcohol from the night before and made me feel even more sickly. I forced the sandwich down in big mouthfuls, I could barely taste it due to the bitterness at the back of my mouth. When I was done I went out the back door and threw it all up in the alley. I then went back inside feeling ten times worse.

I sat at the counter with my head in my hands, feeling terrible. Customers would come in, a few would walk straight back out, a few would ask if I had the missing poison from the shelves in stock, a couple actually bought something. All gave me funny looks. A few more hours passed and I was feeling better. I had been drinking water instead of poison and coffee. It tasted fresh and sweet in my mouth, nice and cold. I decided I should do some work and was about to go into the back to pick up some stock for the shelves when Lou walked in with a young man. Good, they could do the work instead. I greeted Lou and the young man and shook Lou's hand, and told them I had something for them.

Thirty minutes had passed and Lou was almost done filling up the shelves, he knew where everything went. I could hear the young guy, Malcolm, stamping on the boxes out back, I was surprised how loud it was, oh well. As I sat there thinking about nothing Lou turned towards me. "Dan...." he said apprehensively "are you ok?" he asked. "Sure am." I automatically replied back. "Well..." he said "I know you're not man, you look terrible, I can smell the booze on you, the store stinks of it." I looked at him angrily. "Well Lou, what the fuck do you expect a liquor store to smell of? Flowers and fresh fruit?" I looked back down and shook my head. "I know you have been like this for a long time..." he said, in a quiet tone "but now, I dunno, you could always hold it together before, I can tell you are falling apart." I didn't say anything to him, I just carried on looking at the ground. "I mean... you opened late today, sometimes you don't even open at all, you wear the same clothes, don't shower, I'm really worried about you." I looked back up at him and stared at him for a few seconds, then said "Why the fuck do you care about me?" Lou's face dropped. "Because you are my friend? My best friend. You take care of me, because I love you." I burst out laughing. "Friend? Take care of you? I treat you like shit, like a slave!" He shook his head "No...." "YES!" I shouted back, "Yes I do Lou, you call me a friend? If I was a REAL friend I could have actually helped you, gotten you off the streets, given you some pride back." Lou just stood there looking at me. "Instead what do I do? Get you to do the work I don't want to do here? Get you to clean up my fucking puke out back? And how do I repay that?" Lou was silent, "I give you a little bottle of poison, and send you on your way, what a hero I am!" Lou looked at me and shook his head as he replied "I would have been dead if it wasn't for you, that "poison" keeps the pain away, helps me to keep on moving, keeps one foot in front of the other." I could see him welling up. "HERE" I said, and grabbed a small bottle from the shelf next to me. "Here is your pay, enjoy that, its the last time I give you any booze, don't come here again." "You... you don't fucking mean that!" Lou shouted back. "Yeah I do, here, take it." I shoved the bottle in Lou's hand. "I'm done selling poison to people, poisoning them, poisoning you, poisoning myself, poisoning my wife into the grave. I never will do it again." I grabbed Lou by the shoulders. "Next time you come by here, there will be no Dan."



I looked at Dan, I couldn't believe what he was saying. He was being serious, God knows what he was planning to do. "Don't do anything stupid." I said to him. "Please... just tone down the drinking, just stop it, I can help you with that, we can do it together." He walked to a shelf and grabbed a bottle of bourbon. Unscrewed the cap and took a big swig. "Cheers Lou!" He held the bottle up. "Now get the fuck out of my store." I wiped a tear from my eye, shook my head and put the bottle in my pocket. "I will see you soon..." I replied and started to walk away, out to the back door, into the alley. I had to hold it together, for my own sake, and the kids, last thing he needed to see was me in a state. I walked out and he was sitting on a little plastic crate, he had done all his work. I put on a false smile through my bad teeth and exclaimed "I love pay day!"and took the bottle Dan gave me out of my pocket and waved it at him. It was the last bottle of "poison" Dan would ever give me.



I carried on drinking after Lou left, I felt like shit, but then again what's new? Time had passed, it was late, but not closing time. I decided to close up anyway, I had enough for one day. I closed the shutters and made sure I locked them, then I picked up the half empty bottle of bourbon off of the cold ground. I was pretty drunk, but I didn't feel sick like I did earlier, the drink always took the pain away. I started to make the short walk to the bridge, drinking along the way. People could see I was in a bad state, mumbling slurred words and cusses, staggering. Nobody gave a fuck, they would look at me for a split second then look away, sometimes make a comment to a friend, sometimes just laugh. I didn't care I was used to it. I reached the bridge and leaned against the railing, looking over the edge. The water was black and freezing. They say at this time of year if you fall in you will only last a couple of minutes. You don't drown, you freeze. The hypothermia doesn't take long to sweep over you, you just get cold, and fall asleep, and never wake up. I closed my eyes and thought about my life, all the bad things I had done. I had lost my soul a thousand times over. Never done a good thing in my life. I rocked my head back and forth, as I heard the river flow below me. It would be so easy, just to lean over a little more, fall for a second, then feel cold and then, feel nothing ever again. I opened my eyes, I couldn't do it, I was still thinking too much. I threw the empty bottle over the side of the bridge. Fuck I should have brought a fresh one with me. Fuck it, I will make my way back to the store, pick up one last bottle of poison, and unlike every time before, this time, I would do it.

Damn, I had sobered up a little while walking, I guess my tolerance was high these days. I walked around the corner and could see the store. Great, a couple were hugging against the shutters. That was the last thing I wanted to see. Well, I would just ignore them I guess, make out like they aren't there, I'm sure they want nothing to do with me. I carried on walking, I could see my breath in the cold. Strange, the guy hugging the girl had no coat, in this weather everyone wore one. All he had on was a red top. As I got a few steps closer, but still a distance away I saw that they weren't hugging, the man had the girl pinned against the shutters to my store, he was holding her by the jaw. He was shouting at her. The girls eyes met mine, she looked distraught, desperate, terrified. I saw a glint of metal in the man's hand, a knife. I sobered up instantly, and I don't know why, but I started running. But I wasn't running away, I was running towards the girl who was in need outside my store.