Perpetual Motion – Part 2

So, here´s part 2 of my current project. It´s been a while since I´ve written anything, I´m pretty rusty. I´ll be uploading more of this story throughout the week. As always, be warned, you are threading unto unedited territory.

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“You should have seen Alice today, she was awesome,” Luther commented as he quickly unbuttoned his shirt´s collar, “I mean, no offence Matheo, but there´s something about her.”

“The girl´s talented and it helps if you´re a big nerd, as well.” Judith added, all the while sipping her drink.

Rolling my eyes, I faced Judith, “well, if you´re done kissing her boots, shall I enjoy my lunch?”

“Matheo, I think you´re taking this competition a bit too far,” Elize grabbed my shoulder and sat next to Judith, “it´s all fine and dandy but this seems more of a grudge.”

“I have no grudges against her, I just don´t like her.”

“She seems nice,” Luther kept on struggling try to eat a chicken leg with a fork and a knife.

“Everyone I know says that she´s a great person,” Elize said in a whispered tone, “look at her, her smile seems so… so… so genuine, you know what I mean?”

“No, I don´t.” I replied.

“I´ve talked to her a few times,” Judith continued, “and she´s a nice person. She´s got a great sense of humor, never speaks of her achievements, always looking out for everyone; Alice has even said, on multiple occasions, that she admires you but that you don´t seem to like her very much.”

That evening, I walked home with Luther and Alexander. The street was silent, as a few cars drove by, disappearing into the shadows of the overwhelming darkness. The sun was falling on the horizon as orange flames lit the clouds in a spectacular glow. The first start, the star of the north, shown brightly as the darkness enveloped the light.

The dusty, pot-holed streets were barely capable of accommodating any form of transportation. There was a bus that would circulate around the town, devoid of passengers, save for rainy or cold days. A few lampposts illuminated the way as they sometimes flickered on and off.

“Alexander, could you tell Matheo that that imaginary competition he´s having with Alice, is not good for his health?” Luther moved his hands out of his pocket, “it´s just so silly.”

Alexander stared at me, “this is still a thing?”

“I don´t want to talk about it,” I replied. Alexander was like a big brother to us. Being the only son in a long line of alchemists, he was expected to continue the family tradition. In short, he wasn´t a Mage like us but his heart was in the right place. “It´s like she intentionally mocks me.”

“How old are you?” Luther responded, all the while, looking bewildered at what I had said.

“Her sly smile as she tries to surpass me. It´s irritating!”

“Matheo, I didn´t want to say this but I do believe you hate her because she reminds you of yourself.” Alexander explained, “each time we find mirror images of ourselves, we reject them. I believe it´s natural, like having the positive ends of two magnets close to one another: they repel.”

I saw the bus stop a block away, with it´s like flickering.

“That´s dumb.” I parted ways and walked to the bus stop, staring at the night sky. Everything they just said, that couldn´t be true, right? I buried my head on my hands, trying to make sense of everything, trying to find something to shake-off that strange feeling that crept over me. The small metal bench was cold and uncomfortable, and the small tin roof above me, creaked with the passing wind.

That night, I fell into a deep sleep.

Cara Mia Addio – 01 – Ruby, Like Tears of Blood

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Okay guys, this is something that had been bothering me for the past weeks. This was going to be added on The Everlasting Rondo, novel that I wrote for Nanowrimo, but I scrapped it and turned it into a stand-alone project. What is it about? Well, it’s about someone trying to forget someone else but at a cost. You can never gain anything in life without sacrificing something else. Be warned, this is not a romance story… This is a terror/suspense story with a hint of romance but mostly tragedy.  Let’s see how far we go, okay?

By the way, just for the record, the name comes from a song I love. It’s from Portal 2, youtube it… It’s really good.

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“He’s an asshole…” He wiggled his nose; the allergy season had started its daily torment on his poor soul. “I wish someone would kick his ass already!”

“Stop… Just don’t…” Markus dropped the backpack near his locker. Kneeling on the dust covered tile floor, he twisted the lock. “I keep forgetting my combination.”

Pietro looked around, sensing that the coast was clear, he opened his locker. Henri peeked into the dark, cold container that his buddy called a locker. His books fell from his hands, dropping on the hard, cold floor. Markus looked at both, suddenly stricken by a cold shiver that ran down his spine. He had never seen them so lifeless.

“What’s going on?” Markus peeked into the dark locker. “Is that what I think it is?” He covered his mouth.

“It can’t be…” Pietro grabbed it.

“Must be some sick joke from those bastards from class B.” Henri looked at all sides, no one was in sight. This was too big for someone to fit inside a locker without taking off the lock. A combination lock was far beyond what these meat heads could do. “On second thought, they are too dumb to even try to do something like this.”

“If it really is them, I’ll beat them to a pulp!” Markus growled, all the while, clenching his fists till his veins seemed as though they were about to pop out.

Holding it in his hands, trembling in fear and despair, Pietro placed it against his heart. Beating faster and faster, he was losing his sight of reality. This can’t be real. Someone must be playing a sick joke on me. I hate you all, I hate you all, I hate you all! Repeating over and over again, a voice echoed within the recesses of his mind. Someone gripped his shoulder, tightening as the pain made him jump.

“Calm down, you know it’s a trick. They are trying to get to you.” Henri was still looking for a sign of guilt in the faces of each passerby. “Go home man, sleep a while, drink a soda, and take it with you.”

“Yeah, think of it as closure.” Markus leaned over to grab his backpack, flinging it over his shoulder. “Better face the truth now than never.”

Grabbing the cracked glasses, he placed them inside his left pocket and walked alone to the front door. Dragging his feet on the ground, the blistering sun blinded his sight. The grass was looking dull, the trees were losing their healthy glow and the birds were gleefully bathing alongside a broken water pipe: summer was upon them. The heat emanating from the sidewalk coupled with the vapor rising from the asphalt; it wasn’t a pretty trip home. As he gazed at the small white house that was next to his, divided by a small wooden fence covered in dried-up roses, he felt his heart skip a beat. That sound, was he going mad? A familiar ringtone, a familiar buzz; someone was trying to make him lose his mind.

Grabbing his phone, he saw it. That familiar photo, that nostalgic sound, that unique name, and that familiar feeling that alienated his fear from the rest of his emotions… “Shit! Damn it!”

Slamming it on the ground, he smashed his shoe on the screen of the phone; shattering all hopes for his past to resurge from the ashes of his pain. Grabbing his head, he fell on his knees. Funny, he had tormenting his knees a lot these past weeks. Tears fell from his eyes. Strange, I don’t feel sad… I feel lost. He gazed up at the sun and shouted, “She is dead! Now, leave me alone!”

*****

Crackling and shaking, something was rattling on top of the desk. A small desk near my bed covered in oxide and wood, it was pretty old and pretty unstable. Anything that would shake its equilibrium would crackle. As the peculiar sound awakened him, Pietro looked around, darkness enveloping his room. Still in a daze, he reached for his phone. The screen was cracked but above all, it was off, though the sound was not coming from his phone. Looking around, poking at the dusty table, he felt it. It was vibrating.

The idea hit him, there was no other phone, there was no other device; except for one. That device was permanently turned off. Reaching for it, he felt it.  Quickly removing his hand from it’ smooth surface, he tried again; it still continued vibrating. Taking a hold of it, he dropped it on his lap, covered by a soft, checkered blanket. Looking at it, it seemed like a normal pink, sticker-covered flip cellphone but to him, this was life.

He grabbed it, taking the back part off. It was as he had expected: there was no battery. He threw the phone over to a corner of the room. The silence of the room was shattered, once again, by the vibration. The phone continued vibrating, how was that even possible?

“Jesus Christ, I’m going insane,” he whispered in the darkness, “I’m really going bat-shit crazy.”

The phone stopped. The ensuing silence was quite odd. He sighed, sinking on his bed, covering his body in his bed sheet. Maybe, he was just dreaming and that was a bad dream; a nightmare that would haunt him some other time… but not tonight. He was adamant.

Closing his eyes, he heard it. The sound made chills run up his spine. That ringtone or better yet, the ringtone he had grown so accustomed to. Jumping off his bed, he ran to where the phone lay, flung it over to the bed and placed a pillow over the phone. Silence, sweet silence.

“What am I going to do with you? You’re not supposed to work… you have no battery, no power whatsoever.” Placing his left hand over his racing heart, he wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, he wanted to run, with the mobile phone in hand, and send it flying over to the other side of the street. He couldn’t. “What do you want from me?”

The sound stopped. Reaching for the phone, underneath the pillow, he slowly pulled it out. Closing his eyes tightly, he flipped the phone open. Slowly, he opened his eyes. Gazing at a blue screen with a picture of two green eyes, his heart sunk; maybe even skipping a beat, he saw a missed call from the same phone. How could a phone place a call to its same number? That’s ridiculous. A message popped up, as the light electronic device escaped his weak grip.

A message, no title, no number, just a message; the peculiarities did not end there. The wallpaper faded into a black background, no color, no designs, just black. His trembling fingers pressed the button; the message popped out:

…F

…F#r… A@ay…

Hel%… &e…

…X#…

“What does this mean?” He tried scrolling down, but everything else was corrupted. It was a half-baked message that appeared in a phone with no battery and certainly no owner. He was lying, it did have an owner, but that’s where it all became difficult to believe. She had breathed her last, a few months ago, and this phone, along with the glasses, had been buried deep within his memories.

Nanowrimo: Day 23!

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I’ve been somewhat late on my posts… but don’t worry. I’m back! 😀 Here is another fragment of the Nanowrimo story… no edits, just a bunch of mistakes on every level.

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Geraldine’s body lay on the floor; her head tumbled to a side as someone kicked it against the wall. He was tall, his body covered in bulletproof wear, his face hidden behind an iron mask and a large hammer held with both hands. He neared them, grabbing Patricia and tossing her to a side. His boot pinned Alessandro’s neck to the ground, as he readied his hammer to smash his victim’s head into pieces. “Isn’t… Isn’t a hammer… too loud?”

“I’m a sucker for the dramatics, now squeal like a pig.”

“Knock, knock…” Alessandro replied. “Knock, knock, haven’t you ever played this game? Indulge me for once, Victor.”

He grinned. “I guess the hunter can provide his prey with such privileges.” Readying his hammer, he replied, “Who’s there?”

“Soul…”

He flinched. This was stupid. “Soul? Who the fuck is soul?”

“The guy… that left you with a great big hole.” Pointing at him, with his fingers folded like a gun, he added. “Bang, bang, you’re dead.”

“You stupid little…” A loud bang blasted his head right off his very own shoulders. On the other side of the barrel was Patricia, back against the wall, holding the spear with both hands.

“Well done, Pat.”

“How did you know that he’d play knock, knock?”

“He was my best friend… I knew he’d play knock, knock.”

She helped him up, noticing his back was pierced with many glass shards. Alessandro dropped both guns and his jacket. “If we get out of here alive, you must go out with me on a date.”

“Let’s get out of here alive and then I’ll think about it.” Patricia kissed his cheek. “But, I’m keeping the mask.”

“If you could have children, how would you name them?”

She smiled and without giving it a second thought she replied, “Alexander and Anastasia.”

“I’ll make it happen…”

>—–<

                Snow had fallen the night before; Patricia held her pillows close to her cold body. She hated the cold; somehow it made her feel lonely and so vulnerable. Her husband had gone off to work. Staring at the ceiling, she remembered what had transpired thirty years ago. It felt as if it was just yesterday that she was running for her life. She still holds a piece of glass as a memento of that event.

The phone started ringing. She leaned over to the phone and answered. “Hello, Pastore residence, how can I help you?”

“Honey! We found it!” An overwhelming feeling of joy empowered her.

“What do you mean, we found it?”

“You’re going to become a mother!”

A tear ran down her cheek. After so many years of planning and preparing, it was coming to past. Now, all they could do was to wait and see what the future would bring for them. On a side, next to the telephone, there lay a map with a small Central American colony highlighted in red: British Honduras.

Nanowrimo: Day 9!

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So, this is day nine of Nanowrimo… I’m proud to announce that I’m 13,000 words so far into the project. Here is a fragment of the second story in The Everlasting Rondo. It’s still undedited (fellow nanowrimoers will understand).

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As I closed the car door, I noticed something was amiss. Was I with someone, or was it all a dreaming? My overactive imagination would always take the best of me but this time I swore someone had caressed my hand. Somehow, I had managed to fall sleep beneath the pine trees that adorned the university campus. The scent of a cold morning beckoned me to return to sleep.

Shaken by a strange dream, I awoke from my slumber. It was a cold morning; too cold for someone like me. The idea of a warm cup of coffee was tempting enough as it is but my bed called me to her bosom. Reminding myself why I had to awaken, my cellphone sounded. Falling asleep in class was one than, but sleeping before even reaching class, that required skill.

Shaking the tiny branches off my jacket, I finally found the day to use my mittens and scarf. It was chilly; the wind brought a cold draft into any location even as the sun tried to warm the earth. Falling from the mountains, this cold would not dissipate that easily. Taking baby steps, I stepped inside the classroom. Only half an hour left, being tardy was a natural ability I was born with. The images of the dream are all blurry and fading fast… Being with tails and teeth, eyes that glow with ferocious intensity, running in a forest unlike my own, being chased by these teeth; it was a nightmare.

“So? Who was she? How did she look like?” The girl’s eyes followed my every expression.

“Ummmmm, let’s see what I can remember… Tall, around my height, extremely long hair—”

“What do you mean by extremely?” She interrupted me. “Like longer than usual or longer than it should be?”

“Like, if she kept it untied, it would drag on the floor.”

She giggled. “That’s long!”

After giving her the full set of descriptions she flicked by nose with her long slender fingers and laughed. I didn’t see the humor in it. Taking out her phone, she showed me a picture she had taken a few days ago. It was her, a couple of our friends and a girl!

“Everything you’ve told me describes her to a certain extent.” She moved through the pictures, showing me a video. “She’s really shy.”

“Who is she? A friend of yours?” I was intrigued.

“No, she’s the new kid. She transferred over from someone place in Europe. Maybe it’s destiny?”

“Maybe you’ve been reading too many romantic novels.”