A Lie (Novel) Preview

Abandonment

The day she left is the closest to actual hell that I ever want to be. I don’t believe in God and I know that when I die I’m not going anywhere, but six feet under and if there is a God and I am sent to hell. Hell would be that day over and over again, and in reality I feel as if I have already reached that point in my life. That all I am doing is reliving that day over and over. The day she left I didn’t say much. In fact I hadn’t said much the three days prior either. All I did around this time was cry, cry like I have never cried in my life. I begged her to stay, but no amount of begging would change her mind. She just went on about how this is was the best way. The best way for what I would scream. Only to be followed by more tears. The day she left. The day she left I kissed her one more time and I asked her to stay. She never answered me. She hugged me, holding me tight a feeling I miss more than anything in life, and then she walked to our car, her car now, and she pulled out of the parking space and went on her way. I just stood there for what felt like hours, for weeks, for months, in some ways I am still standing there and I cried some more. Since that day I haven’t stopped crying and I haven’t said much about how I felt. My mind replays it again. All the hurt comes back in waves. I think that I shouldn’t cry, but I always do. The drugs are lined up. All I have to do is do them like I have before. Pretty white lines that erase everything. Even if it is only for a short time. The escape numbs the abandonment. The escape rids me of all the pain. The escape is the heaven that takes me away from my hell. Every day I think back to what I did wrong. Every day I wonder what it would have been like if she stayed. I have never been perfect, but I don’t think I ever deserved this and despite all of it I still love her. Despite all the hurt and all the pain she has caused me I would give anything to be back with her for one more day. I screwed this life up a long time ago and I have found some way to allow it to continue. I snort the lines, I line up more. I’m ready to forget. Even if it is only for a short time. My mind is blank. Freedom is losing everything you ever wanted on a dream.

 

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The Memorial Day Incident (Vulgar)

“Just a little bit further Jason I want to find a good spot for your first parade. We should have gotten here earlier,” the women increases the hold on her son’s hand as they pass through the crowd. The child looks scared and continues to mumble louder and louder after each person he brushes past. “What are you saying Jason?” The mother stops in the crowd to hear her son. “I raped that little girl and it burns in my mind. I wonder if she still remembers like I do, but she was so drunk she probably doesn’t,” Jason says. A look of horror comes across the mother’s face, “What are you talking about Jason?” “I don’t like the crowd mom can we go back to the car?” he asks. Ignoring his question she asks, “What were you saying before Jason?” “I didn’t say anything before mommy,” he says confused. The woman crouches down to be face to face with her son, “Yes you did and you should never repeat whatever it is you just said. You are much too young for that kind of language or to even know those words.” She looks both frightened and confused. “What words? What did I say? Are you mad at me?” Jason asks in rapid succession. The woman stands up and takes her child into her arms, “Never mind, I’m not mad at you sweetie.” “Can we go back to the car?” He asks once again. “I feel safer in the car,” he says to the asphalt. The woman puts him back on the ground and scan the area around them packed with people. “Yes, we can go back to the car,” she says disappointed. “We just have to go back through the crowd. Can you do that?” The little boy nods his head yes and she takes his hand into her. They start to make their way through the crowd and almost immediately he begins to start rambling again as he slips past people in the crowd. This time however it is a different woman who hears what he has to say. “What did he just say?” The stranger asks his mother. “Sorry?” she asks the stranger who grabs her. “What did your son just say to me?” Confused Jason’s mother tells the woman, “Nothing he is, he doesn’t know what he is saying. The crowd is making him very nervous and scared.” “That’s no excuses for lying about my father like that,” the stranger says in anger. “What?” Jason’s mother asks. “Your little bastard of a kid just said to me that my dad liked to touch me in my sleep and that I liked it. I ought a beat your little skinny ass because my dad’s a saint. Where do you get the nerve to teach your little mistake things like that and then convince him to tell complete strangers such rude things to their face?” The crowd around them grows quite to hear what they are saying. “Why is she yelling mommy?” Jason shouts. “Because she is confused,” his mother says nervously and very afraid. She tries once again to walk off. “Fuck that I’m not confused your son is just a little freak,” the stranger yells at her. “Like I said he is scared and nervous because of the crowd. He doesn’t know what he is saying and you are just making it worse for him,” she shouts over her shoulder. “I’m making it worse?” The stranger shouts after she chases after them. “I’ll show him what worse really is. Maybe it is something you should have shown him once or twice,” the stranger reaches out for Jason’s arm. “Excuses me is there a problem here?” A uniformed police officer asks as he grabs the stranger out reached hand. Jason’s mother turns to see who asks the question. Relief washes over her as she see the officer standing there. “Yes there is her fucking bastard child is making up stuff about my father and me,” the stranger says red-faced. “Ma’am the language is not appropriate. Let’s let cooler head prevail and leave these nice people alone. He is only a child he probably doesn’t even know what he said.”

The cop kneels down to be at Jason’s level. He places his hand on the child’s shoulder, “Why don’t you just say that you are sorry, and you and your lovely mother can go enjoy the rest of the parade?” Jason locks eyes with the police officer, “I shot him because he was black. I knew he didn’t have a weapon, but I shot him anyways. What’s the world with one less nigger? A better place.” The cop turns a lighter shade of pale. Transfixed on the boy’s eyes he is at a loss for words. “Oh my god Jason I can’t believe you just said that. I never taught him to say that,” his mother scans the eyes of the crowd that has gathered. A look of horror and intrigue has come over the crowd. Ashamed Jason’s mother picks him up, “That’s enough.” The cop remains kneeling staring at the spot that once contained Jason’s face. “I’m so sorry,” the mother tries to explain to the officer. “That never happened. He had a gun so I shot him,” he says to himself. The crowd grows even more somber as the officer stands up. “Told you that kid was a freak. Arrest them or something,” the stranger says. “Shut up,” the officer says to the woman. The crowd murmurs while staring at the cop. “So what if he was black?” the officer shouts with all eyes on him. “A criminal is a criminal and I did what I had to do to protect myself,” he says while scanning the crowd for any form of sympathy. “Mom I want to go home. I’m scared,” Jason puts his head in the crook of his mother’s neck. He buries his head as deep as he can as she begins to speak, “I’m going to take my son home if that is okay with you officer. He didn’t mean what he said and this has all been a very strange day.” The cop mortified doesn’t look up at her or to anyone as he speaks, “That is probably for the best.” Tears hit the pavement as they begin to walk away. The crowd stands in disbelief at what they have seen.

The mother turns to walk through the crowd once again. The crowd parts making sure to not touch them as they walk through. “That’s it?” The stranger shouts before throwing her arms down and stomping away. As his mother tries to go around a rather large man near the back of the silent crowd Jason’s foot lightly touches the man’s arm. “I buried them under my house. The smell is starting to get to the neighbors, but I’m starting to like it,” Jason says. The man has a face of shock as the crowds eyes divert to him. Jason’s mother stops dead in her tracks as someone from the crowd shouts. “Get that man.” The large man tries to get away but everyone around him refuses to move. “Move out of my way. I’ve done nothing wrong here,” the man says as he pushes against the crowd. “Just because a child says something that makes it true?” The man asks the crowd. Jason’s mother sets her son back on the ground, “What did you do?” “I didn’t do anything,” the man says nervously. “This is Officer Johnson, I need back up on the intersection of Fifth and Jackson,” the officer says into his radio. “Back up?” The man questions out loud. “There’s no need for back up. I didn’t do anything. I don’t even have neighbors,” the man becomes even more desperate as he pushes against the crowd. The officer pulls his gun from the holster, “Please put your hands behind you head.” The man stops pushing against the crowd, “Hey, watch it there trigger finger. I swear I didn’t do anything.” “Then you won’t mind getting down on the ground and putting your hands behind your head? I won’t ask again,” the officer shouts. “Okay so some crazy psycho fucking kid says something and we’re all going to believe him?” The man shouts. “This is insane. If I even did what he alleges that I did than that means you shot an innocent man? You do realize that don’t you?” The officer doesn’t put down his weapon. The crowd is still silent as the people around the man slowly back away. Unaware of what is happening behind her Jason’s mother says, “My son is not crazy. I don’t know what is wrong with him, but he is not crazy.” The man grabs her by the throat and begins to choke her. “Your son is crazy,” the man grips tighter. “Fucking say it,” he screams in her face. The officer fires two rounds just as the man pulls her closer to himself. Both shots hit her dead center in the back. The man releases his grip on the woman’s throat as she falls to her knees. Jason’s mother coughs up blood as the officer also goes down to his knees.

The crowd begins to cry and scream as they disperse in all directions. Through the madness and the chaos someone screams, “Nice job officer dip shit. I guess we will just have to add another to your list.” Jason stands there frozen in shock and fear covered in his mother’s blood. The large stranger grabs Jason by the shoulders raising him high in the air as he begins to shake him. “Why did you do this you little shit?” He screams at the child. Bits of spit follow with every word. Jason begins to cry as he screams, “I sliced her open like a deer as I fucked her until I came. Over and over I am king.” “Shut the fuck up,” the man says as he shakes him harder. “Put the kid down,” the officer tries to say but the words only fall to the ground. “Another I fucked her in her tight little ass while she bleed out on my garage floor,” Jason begins to laugh but it is not the laugh of a child. “Shut up,” the man says as he wraps his powerful hands around Jason’s throat. The man squeezes as hard as he can. Jason fights to say something else, “I prefer to asphyxiate the special ones. There is something about watching the life in their eyes slowly die out as I fill them with the beginnings of another.” Too weak to move Jason dangles there as the man chokes him, “I said shut up you little bastard.” “Put him down or I will shot,” the officer tries again.  The officer rises to his feet, “What’s another dead piece of shit?” The cop fires all of the remaining bullets, but one into the man’s body. He takes the burning hot barrel and places it into his mouth blowing out the back of his head. Back up finally arrives on the scene only to see the bodies resting on the ground and a boy standing in the middle of it all.

“True fucking story,” I tell the people across from me. A few of them are my friends and a few of them aren’t. “They even have a name for what happened even though most people back home like to pretend it never took place,” I say. “What’s it called I’ll Google it right now?” A naive girl asks from across the fire. “You won’t get 4G out here. We are in the middle of nowhere,” another girl proclaims. “Okay whatever I’ll put it in my phone and look it up later what was it called?” She takes out her phone. “What a fucking nerd,” a friend of my shouts out. Ignoring them all and in the most dramatic voice I can, “Its called the Memorial Day Incident.” A round of laughter begins around the fire. “What kind of fucking name for something is that?” Someone asks. “That story is such bull shit,” another says. “No it really happened,” a friend of mine says. “Okay then what happened to Jason?” I start to say something before being cut off. “I want him to tell me,” she demands. “What happened to Jason? That’s what you wanted to know?” My friend asks. The girl nods her head, “Yeah what happened to Jason?” “Jason died that’s what happened to him. The large man shook him so hard that his neck snapped,” my friend explains as he looks over at me. “I thought,” she begins to say. “Who else has an actual scary story to tell?”

Isolation Part 2

Chapter 3

Steve sits at the table in the second chamber eating oatmeal he made himself. Vector sits at the other end of the table completely still. “How much longer,” Steve asks Vector between bites? “Two more hours until communication is back on.” “What if something killed who ever sent that part and we are just sitting here waiting to die?” “Highly unlikely Steve, Sector 156 has never been inhabited till 2120 when the first prisoners were brought here to make the ten cells for mining and prison purposes.” “What if something does live here and the mining has just started to affect them?” “Not likely Steve Sector 156 has an average temperature of 450 degrees year round except on two days of the year” “Supply days yeah I know, but I’ve lived here no problem for three years. So maybe whatever lives here or could live here is also living underground.” “Impossible,” Vector says before being interrupted. “Nothing is impossible Vector. “There is no life on this planet other than what was put here.” “I hit a nerve there good buddy?” “I have no nerves Steve only circuits.” “We’re not alone on this planet. I’d put money on it that, that is what got who ever sent that part.” “What is money Steve?” “Never mind,” Steve says with a yawn. “Maybe you should go back to sleep Steve. I can wake you once communication comes back on-line.” “I’m okay Vector. I think I will take a shower and change though.” “Remember the water is coming to an end so there won’t be much.” “Thank you Vector,” Steve says as he gets out of his chair.

Steve walks into the first chamber and slides a cover on the wall to reveal his cloths. He chooses the usual black he was assigned when he first arrived. Steve takes the picture from his back pocket and places it next to the clean clothes on the bed. He undresses and moves another cover to reveal a built-in shower. Steve steps into the claustrophobic washing chamber and turns the water on high. The warm water feels good on his face he thinks as he holds his face in the warm water. With no warning or announcement the water shuts off. “Seriously,” Steve says out loud. He taps the water button again, but nothing comes out. Steve presses the dry button and warm air is shot from all around him. He opens the door and steps into the bedding chamber. As Steve dresses he begins to hear the sound of scratching from the wall at the end of the small chamber. “Vector what are you doing in there?” From the other chamber Vector says, “Cleaning up the mess in here.” The scratching grows louder as Steve quickly straps up his boots. Steve throws on his shirt and puts his picture back into his back pocket. He walks over to the far wall and places his ear up against the cold steel. Steve can hear the sounds of heavy breathing as the scratching continues. “What the fuck,” he says out loud to himself. Steve backs away at the nick of time as the metal wall breaks slightly to reveal a hand full of claws. A blast of heat comes into the chamber as the hole grows bigger. Steve wastes no time as he runs into the next chamber. He presses the chamber shut off button as he enters the next chamber. “Vector get into the work shop now.” Vector raises his head to ask a question as the beast in the next chamber slams its massive body against the chamber door.  Vector rolls into the next chamber as Steve follows right behind him. Steve presses the chamber shut off button as he makes his way into the workshop. He rests his back against the closed-door and slowly slides down until he is sitting on the ground. “There’s no way something else lives on this planet Steve. It’s impossible,” he mocks as he breathes in deep.

 

Chapter 4

“Vector how long can the chamber doors hold back whatever is behind them?” “Data unknown too many factors to determine such an outcome.” “Is communication still down?” “For the next hour at least,” Vector informs Steve. There is constant pounding that comes from the next chamber as Steve gets up and walks over to Vector. He inspects Vector’s Casing looking for anything that can be used for defense. “Steve what are you doing,” Vector asks? “I’m trying to see if there is anything on you that we can use as a weapon. Do you have a defensive system at all?” “No I was built to assist not destroy.” “Great I’m stuck with a giant paper weight in a fight for my life.” Steve walks over to his work bench and starts to take out any tools he can use to carve out metal with. “Vector I need a piece of your casing.” “What for Steve,” Vector questions as he turns his body to face Steve? “I need to send a message to the other sections.” “Bi law 24,” Vector starts to rattle off. “I know what the code and the rule is Vector, but I need to warn them.” “I can’t let you Steve it is against the rules.” “I was afraid you would say that,” Steve picks up the metal pipe from the side of his work bench. “Steve what are you doing with that?” “What I have too,” he says as he brings the pipe down hard on Vector. The pipe hits its mark on the lower back of Vector’s casing taking out his ability to move. Vector tries to stop the second swing but his arm misses the pipe as it lands hard into its upper back. Vector is now unable to use his arms. “They really made a design flaw when they made your components too much like a humans.” Vector turns his head to face Steve, “You didn’t have to do this Steve.” Aloud crash interrupts Steve as the creature breaks throw into the second chamber. “Time is running out Vector can you still send and receive communications?” “Yes I still can and there is still no window.” Steve grabs a tool off the work bench and starts to ply off a piece of Vectors casing. He is able to disassemble a large enough piece from Vector’s lower back. Steve then takes the piece to his work bench to engrave his own message. “What are you going to do with that piece?” “I’m going to write a message and then send it to Section A. They should be within communications by now if they aren’t already dead.” Sparks flay as Steve begins to cut in to the casing. He spells out each word as he cuts them carefully into Vector’s casing. It doesn’t take him long to engrave the case and he places the finished piece into the transfer tube. What if they are dead Steve,” Vector asks as Steve presses the send button. “Then we are also dead.”

The creature finally finds the door between chamber two and chamber three. It pound on the door with all of its might causing the wall to shake with every hit. Steve takes the picture out of his back pocket and stares into the eyes of the woman on it. “What is that,” Vector asks? “My wife and child,” Steve says quietly. “You have a wife and child?” “I had one yes. They didn’t tell you why I was here?” “Headquarters informed that you were here for accidental murder, but not the cause for such an action.” “That is why I am here, but it is much more complicated than that.” Steve’s eyes begin to tear up as he rubs his thumb down the side of his wife’s face. “I am here because I killed the murderer of my wife and child. It was ruled an accident, but I didn’t kill him on accident. I wanted him dead and that’s why I am still here. That is why I can never leave because I deserve to be here.” “He killed your wife and child Steve human emotions and laws dictate that your course of action is justified under accidental. You were not yourself when you committed the act of murder.” “What difference does it make? I’m going to die here anyways.” “Cut,” the director shouts from the front of the set. “Johnny, Johnny listen to me the tears need to be real and I need more than just two. Your upset over the death of you wife and child.” “Dan it’s a direct to DVD movie. Who gives a fuck if the crying doesn’t feel real? I mean I’m on a planet called Sector, What the fucks the number?” “156,” the line reader calls out to the actor. “Right, I’m on planet Sector 156 being chased by a hairy beast underground, and all of this is because the surface temperature is 451 degrees. Come on who wrote this shit? Ray Bradbury should sue. Look I know I said I would do the project, but this is really not working.” The actor gets up and starts to walk off the set. “Someone get me my agent. I don’t care if my careers in the crapper I’m not doing any more of these shitty movies. The government can have my fucking money.” “Johnny come back,” the director calls out to the actor. “God damn it I knew I should have gone with an unknown.”

Isolation Part 1

Chapter 1

“Steve it is time to wake up,” a robotic voice calls out from all sides of the room. “Steve you must get up and check in or you know what happens.” A robotic hand reaches out to nudge Steve as he sleeps on the small twin sized bed. “Can’t I at least get ten more minutes Vector? Section 156 D isn’t going to melt down if I get ten more minutes.” Steve pulls the covers closer to his face revealing his toes to the cold. “Awe fuck it. Why does it have to be so damn cold here,” he asks rhetorically? “Steve you know we have the heat at the maximum according to Sector 150’s code rule 36 article C.” Steve mouths the words as he places is hand in the machine next to the bed to check in. “I realize this is all supposed to be punishment, but I’m on a moon three million miles from anywhere. Where am I really going to go?” “Steve you know it has to more with verifying that you are still alive than actually running away.” “And you can’t just send a messages back saying I am still alive Vector?” “I can not do such a thing as I was not programmed for such a task.” “You also weren’t programmed to befriend the prisoners, but you do any ways. Can you grab my boot for me Vector?” Vector extends his robotic arm and grabs the boot beside the bed. “Well actually Steve,” the robot begins to say. “Not now okay? It is much too early to start that conversation again.” “Okay,” the robot says with a hint of human disappointment. “Don’t sound so disappointed Vector. What do you say we get some breakfast? What does your system need today?” “Processing, oil is at 55%, batteries at 98 % charge, and all systems are at level green.” “Oil it is then. Why don’t you start on my breakfast while I grab the oil?” Vector rolls through the open door way into the next chamber as Steve straps on his boots. Vector is gone for seconds before he comes back into the room, “Did you want apple cinnamon or brown sugar?” Steve rubs the sleep out of his eyes, “Oatmeal again?” “You have no other choices. You used up all of your meat rations for this week already.” “Damn it, is it Friday already?” “No Steve it is Saturday the fifth of November 2136.” “It can’t be,” Steve says in disbelief. “If it was Saturday I would have the day off you know that.” “New work schedule order 1723 came from headquarters earlier in the week.” Vector plays back Steve’s reaction from earlier in the week, “Son of a bitch.” “Son of a bitch is right,” Steve says in nearly the same tone as the playback. “This is bull shit you know that right?” “Yes I do, apple cinnamon or brown sugar?” “Brown sugar,” Steve says in a deflated tone. “Can you burn it a little bit?” “As you like Steve,” Vector says as he rolls back into the second chamber.

Steve is in the third and final chamber of what could be best described as his prison. The third chamber is the largest of all his chambers and it houses his workshop.  He is hard at work repairing parts that he must send back to the other nine inhabitants of sector 156. Steve has never met the other nine inhabitants of this sector. His orders are handed down to Vector and delivered via a transfer tube that takes up the whole back wall of his work shop. As he finishes each part he must press the corresponding number to send it back to where it came from. He is currently working on a part from Section G of Sector 156. “How’s the weather above us today Vector?” “Today the surfaces temperature is at 451 degrees Fahrenheit with a wind gust of fifty-five miles per hour.” “Another beautiful day in paradise,” Steve says in a heavy sarcastic tone. “How many more orders are left for today?” “Three more and today’s work is done.” Steve rubs his eyes getting black smudges of grease around his eye sockets. He picks up his soldering iron and goes back to work on the circuit board that will go back into the drilling arm for Section G. “Can you get me some more light Vector?” Vector opens the shades of the artificial windows around the chamber little by little until Steve says that is enough. For three years now this has been Steve’s life on Sector 156. An underground tomb with three chambers and a robot named Vector. Steve makes short work of his last three assignments and cleans up his work space. Every tool and every part has its own assigned place on the work bench. Space is extremely tight in Section D and he must keep safety in mind the robot repeats for the millionth time. Vector helps clean up by placing the finished parts into the transfer tube sending each one to their section of Sector 156. “Want to play a game of chess after we are done with this?” Vector answers back in his usual tone, “Yes, what do you want for dinner?” “I’m not hungry yet,” Steve says as he places the finally cooled soldering iron in it rightful place. “You have been working for sixteen hours straight Steve. I let you skip lunch, but you must have dinner.” Steve rolls his eyes, “How about after a game of chess I will eat dinner?” “As you wish Steve, but you must eat you have to maintain a certain weight or your body begins to suffer.” “I’m fine Vector why don’t you go start setting up the game?” Vector leaves the chamber to set up the ancient game of chess on the only table in chamber two. Steve finishes up with his tools before taking a picture out of his back pocket. The picture is of a woman holding a small child in her arms.

After a few minutes Steve makes his way into the second chamber and takes the only seat at the small table. “Black again,” Steve asks? “Are you trying to tell me something?” “I don’t understand what you mean? If it is a problem I can switch it.” “There’s no problem Vector, honest. I just must be a little tired.” “You have been working for a long time.” “Price I have to pay for living in a place with no windows and no sun.” “There is a sun Steve. It is because of the sun that you have to live underground.” “Don’t remind me Vector,” Steve say dissatisfied. “Do you ever wonder what it would be like to go home?” “I am home Steve. I was manufactured to be here and I will always be here until they replace me.” “That’s how I feel sometimes,” Steve says as he moves his pawn two spaces up. Vector moves its knight to just the front of the line. “How do we even know we are being watched or that anyone really cares if I check in?” “You know I can’t tell you anything Steve. You just have to trust what I say.” “Trust is a human emotion Vector and it’s earned not just assumed.” “Have I ever done anything for you to not trust me?” “No, but then again you are programmed to never fail.” “Because I am not human doesn’t mean I can’t fail.” “So you don’t have a failsafe program for failing?” “Of course I have a program for every possible outcome, solution, failure, or anything a human can throw at me.” Vector takes Steve’s pawn, but Steve doesn’t seem to care much. “We must pause the game it is time to check in again,” Vector informs Steve. “What happens if I don’t check in?” “Steve we have been over this. You must check in every twelve hours.” “Or what Vector?” “Nothing will happen because you are here voluntarily.” “Exactly so why must I check in if it really doesn’t matter? I have been free to leave for the last year.” “It is part of the rules and procedures of Sector 156. All prisoners must check in every twelve hours.” “I am not a prisoner you even said so yourself.” “Regardless you in habit this section of Sector 156 and you must follow all rules.” Steve throws the game board on the floor and walks to the reporting machine. Steve sticks his hand into the mold inside the machine. The machine takes a scan on his hand and a drop of blood for testing. “Anger, another human emotion I will never understand,” Vector says as the machine works. “Fucking bite me tin can,” Steve shouts as he walks to the chamber on the left. Vector rolls into the next chamber to find Steve already in his bed. “This is home Vector I can’t and I won’t leave.” “Then why do you question and fight the rules of home?” “Because I am human and it is what I am supposed to do.”

 

Chapter 2

Several hours later Steve is awoken by the buzzing sound of an incoming part. “I’ll be right there,” Steve says half asleep. Steve puts his feet in his boots and doesn’t bother strapping them. He walks through the second chamber to see Vector in his charging bay. “No, no don’t wake up I got it,” Steve says as he nearly slips on the chess pieces still lying on the floor. “Clean up this mess Vector,” Steve shouts as he makes his way into the workshop. Vectors systems fire up at the sound of his name. The workshop lights flicker on as Steve walks over to the transfer tube. “God what time is it? I can’t believe I am this tired,” Steve says as he grabs the small part in the tube. “Great, just great I have to follow every damn rule, but these assholes don’t.” Steve throws the small part up on to the work bench as he looks for something to clean his hand. “How hard is it to clean the part off before sending it to me,” Steve says to himself. Steve grabs a rag out of the rag drawer and wipes his hand clean. He tosses the dirty rag in the rag pile and walks back to his bench to examine the part. Steve takes the small part in his hands and tries to figure out just what he is looking at being careful to not touch the red sludge covering the surface of the part. “This doesn’t even seem broken just dirty.” As Steve turns it over he discovers something has been filed into the part, but he can’t make out what it says. “You, could, something, next,” Steve works out before dropping the part with a loud bang on the steel floor. “Steve what is the noise? Steve where are you?” “I’m in the workshop. I need you here right now Vector.” Vector rolls in the third chamber to find Steve sticking his hand out at him. “What are you doing up right now Steve,” Vector asks? “I need this tested Vector.” “What for,” the robot questions? “Blood or oil,” Steve says as calmly as he can. Vector extends its arm and uses its finger to wipe some of the red sludge off of Steve’s hand. Again Steve takes a rag from the rag container and wipes his hand, but this time he doesn’t throw it in the used rag container. Steve picks the part off of the floor and replaces it back on the work bench. “What is it Vector,” Steve asks while cleaning of the part with the rag. “It is still being processed,” Vector responds back. Steve rereads the words so carefully dug into the part. “You could be next. What could it mean,” Steve whispers to himself. “The red substance from your hand is blood Steve.”

Steve paces the workshop as he talks to himself, “What could it mean? What could I be next for? Did this person take their own life? There’s no other way there could be blood. None of this makes any sense. Vector is there any way we can figure out where the part came from?” “That information is locked and you may not access such information.” “Yeah, but you can and there for you can send a message to that sections robot.” “Yes,” the robot confirms. “Okay so can you do that for me?” “No, prisoners are not allowed to communicate between sections.” “You can’t just contact the computer ask if everything is okay and then just say yes or no.” “I can’t release any information regarding other sections and their inhabitants. Bi law 24 D code 5466 no prisoner is to speak with or come in contact with other prisoners. This includes all forms of communications as well as between robots otherwise known as Hal Vector 23s.” “If we are not allowed to communicate then how’d the other inhabitant get a message to me that says you could be next? Why would his Hal Vector allow that? If that Vector bent the rules so can you.” “Rules are not meant to be broken or bent Steve. I have no logical explanation of how one robot failed.” “Vector I need you to contact the section this part came from and find out if everything is all right. You don’t have to tell me any direct information other than yes or no. Even if you say no I still have no idea what happened and there for have no idea about what is going on there.” Vector doesn’t say anything or do anything as Steve grows even more frustrated. “Fine whatever can you at least call headquarters and patch me in?” “Communication is down while Sector 156 orbits the other side of its sun.” “Son of a bitch for how long,” Steve asks. “At least four hours before Sector 156 is able to resume communications with headquarters,” Vector informs Steve. “Fine then we will wait four hours since you can’t just send a simple messages of how are you doing to the other fucking section.”

 

Part 2 tomorrow…Well Chapters 3 and 4… 

 

A Lie (Novel) Preview

Beautiful Liar

I use to be like you, naïve and care free
I use to wish for a dream come true and all that shit
but I am more real than I once thought I truly was
Nightmares and dreamscapes only come true in your sleep
Awake all there is, is tragedy and wishful thinking
The streets are filled with the slowly dying
and the buildings and offices are filled with the damned
My eyes were once closed, but now they are always open
I drain the blood from the streets and sweep up the dead
The only job I have left
The only job I was condemned

 

Turn Out the Light

I begin my day by waking up like most of humanity, but in a hint of irony I don’t think that I ever truly wake up. My first thoughts are to find some drugs, but I failed to get more last night or save any for this morning. So now I am beyond hopeless. I light up a cigarette and take a couple of drags before stumbling my way to the bathroom to piss. There is a huge bruise on my left inner thigh and I can’t recall how in the world I got it, but now that I know I have it my leg begins to hurt. I move to the kitchen and open the frig door more out of habit than anything else considering I already know that there isn’t anything inside it anyways. More thoughts creep in my head and this is why I should have saved at least one more hit. My second real thought of the day is that I have to work later. I already know hours in advance that I will be thirty minutes late, but I also know that they won’t say anything. In some sick sad way they feel sorry for me or they act like they know something I don’t. Either way this pisses me off beyond belief. I don’t say anything because I need the money now more than ever. I close the frig door and start to get ready for work. It’s not a long process so, I’m out the door before I even realize it. I send her a text that I know she will never respond to. I send her a text that says, “I love you and I miss you”, but it was a waste of twenty seconds. I start my car up and pull out of the parking space. I stop by the dealer’s house before heading to work. I barely had enough money to get what I will need for the next few days of my miserable life. I need to conserve as much as I can before I get paid again or things just might get worse. I laugh at the thought but it is more real than I can even comprehend right now. The drug dealer sends his best and this pisses me off. I could barely stop from doing a hit right on his front porch but I make it to the car. I head to work and today is already a waste.

Sixteen and fucking stupid. Sixteen year old girls pretend to be so stupid and dizzy about the dumbest things. As if a five-year old doesn’t understand how much something costs. How hard does one person have to be dropped on their head to not understand the concept of money in America? Yet this woman standing in front of me isn’t sixteen, though she acts like it, hell I don’t think she is even in her twenties anymore and if she is she looks fucking rough. Her and her rather large but not for this area boyfriend, who decided today wasn’t a good day to wear sleeves, stand in front of my register. There is a horrible smell coming from somewhere, but I’m not sure where. They have decided to purchase some beer, her pleasure condoms, and this week’s special two regular sized candy bars at the value price of a dollar. The slightly overweight woman who really doesn’t need one more candy bar asks me, “If the tag says two for a dollar does that mean I have to get two candy bars to get the sale price?” My mind flashes to the many possible answers I want to say to her stupid question like do you really need two or are you fucking retarded? Because if you are retarded that is fine, but if you’re just pretending, that’s fucking sad. I calmly tell the woman you can still get the sale price if you purchase just one as I hide my twitching hand from her view. And just so there is no confusion I tell her that they are fifty cents apiece. She gives me a look that makes me wonder maybe this isn’t an act. She really is slow in the head. She decides the best way to go is to get two. “They’re only a dollar,” she says with a giggle. Her next words will haunt me for as long as I live. “You got this don’t you Big Daddy?” I want to vomit all over her, and for the first time tonight it isn’t from the drugs. The man, known only as “Big Daddy,” steps up to the counter and reveals just exactly where the horrible smell in the air has been coming from. He is wearing a sleeve less shirt that says, “Taken Care of Businesses,” on it. His sleeve less arms are quite hairy and sweaty despite the fact that it can’t be more than forty degrees outside. His hairy arms release an odor so wretched that the smell is burning my raw nostrils. I have resorted to breathing through my mouth, as little as I possibly can. The sooner they leave the sooner I can breathe. I can feel my face getting redder as my blood starts to accumulate in my face making it feel even hotter in the room than it already is. I feel as though I am trapped under water. The couple begins to speak. I think they are telling a joke, but all I can hear is my heart beat pounding in my head not the words coming out of their mouths. I don’t understand why they keep talking when I’m not saying anything back. I don’t understand what is going on. They are laughing and smiling, and the smell is somehow getting worse. It hurts, but I pretend to laugh anyways with them. I must pretend to be normal and that everything is okay. I must appear normal I chant to myself as my hand is still twitching and my leg has joined in. My mantra of normal is really starting to fuck me up. What is normal at a time like this? I hand the change to “Big Daddy” and the woman steps even closer to the counter, close to my face, closer than anyone should ever be, and she looks me right in the eyes. She says, “The secret is to have lots of sex.” I swallow the vomit that has found its way into my mouth and force a smile. I have no idea why she is telling me this, but I am grateful that they at least bought condoms. Now if they understand how to use them is a whole other question. My guess is that reading is difficult at their level of intelligence so probably not. It is another sad day on planet earth.

 

Last preview of the month and it is a long one… Like most things in my life this is nothing but fiction… Except Big Daddy is real.. He walks among us… Don’t fear the reaper… Fear the stench… Until tomorrow… Best of luck….

People Of The Sun

“I was there the day that the sun came out in the middle of the night.” An old man lies in a bed made of blankets. His white hair matted to the sides of his head from all the days he has spent in this bed.  His granddaughter sits on the floor next to his bed listening to every word the old man has to say. Her name is Anna and she likes to hear stories. Especially the ones her grandfather likes to tell. The old man’s beard flaps with every word he says in the way that is only entertaining to a child. “I was with my family and we were driving back from my grandparent’s house when it happened.” The little girl fidgets as if she has a question, but she is old enough to know that now is not the time for questions.  “It was so dark that night that my father could barely see anything even with the headlights on. We lived in upstate New York at that time and no matter what the time of year you always had to be cautious of deer. They would jump out in front of the cars if they were afraid or they felt it was their turn to cross the road. So, my father had my mother and I on deer watch and if we saw a deer we were supposed to shout out where it is that we saw them. My little sister Sylvia loved to deer watch, but she was much too young to be any good at it. Your mother is named after my little sister. I don’t know if you knew that or not?” The little girl nodes her head no and stares at her grandfather with the same eyes that once belonged to his wife. He fights back his sadness. The little girl came to hear a story not watch her grandfather cry. He was always really good at fighting back his emotions and being the rock in the middle of an ocean.

“Well anyways there we were driving on the old country roads heading home looking for deer when I saw it. At first the sky just looked as if there were a million lightning bugs trapped in the clouds. It wasn’t bright right away like some might expect it was more like if someone had just dimmed the lights a little bit in a room. The darkness of the night started to disappear and it was no longer hard to see the forest around us. The forest was covered in snow and it began to catch the light of the sun. My father, my family was in awe of what we were seeing. He decided to pull over just as we began to pass a small little farm. No one had ever seen anything like what we saw that night. No one had ever seen the sun rise when it shouldn’t have. We had heard stories of places in Alaska where there was sunlight all day long, but sunlight in New York at night? Never had such a thing been seen. Even if it only appeared to be that way it was too much for us all. My mother unhooked my little sister from her car seat as my father pulled over. By then the sun had looked to only just peeked over the horizon and was nothing more than a sliver of warmth in the coldest winter New York had seen in years. The warmth felt so good against the skin of my face and hand and that is when we realized we weren’t the only thing feeling the warmth. The snow began to melt all around us mountains of snow disappearing as if they were trapped in July. The light kept getting closer and closer, little by little, and as it did it got just a little bit warmer. Before we even realized it the temperature had raised forty degrees in only a matter of seconds and it showed no signs of slowing down.

In fear my father ordered us to get back in the car. My mom said no if it is the bomb than we are as good as dead in that metal car. Time was running out in my mother’s eyes if this was truly the bomb she had imagined then we didn’t have minutes, but seconds to find something to shield are selves.  I don’t know how she saw it, but she did. My mother spotted a water run off not even twenty yards from where we stood. It wasn’t a big run off one might see in a city. It looked barely big enough for one us to get in, but it was our only chance she said. She told me to run for it. Don’t look back just run and when you get there crawl as deep in as you can, you got it? She kissed my forehead and away I went. You can’t tell from how I look right now, but I was fast. Fast like the wind they use to say. Running was in my blood and it’s in yours as well. I went as fast as my legs could take me. The heat by now had gotten to nearly a hundred degrees and felt even hotter in a winter jacket so I threw it on the ground and kept going.

Twenty yards is only sixty feet, but in a hundred degree heat and climbing it was the longest sixty feet of my life.  Just before I made it to the underground run off I saw the ground and as my feet were moving I watched it turn from green to brown. The temperature had gotten so hot so fast the grass began to turn to mud even as I ran to save my life. The sun was about half way up when I made it into the little tunnel. There was still a little bit of water left in the tunnel from the melted snow as I forced my way through the dark tunnel. I didn’t know how far deep I should go in and I had no clue just how deep I did go in. I just did as my mother had said until I could no longer move. The tunnel was just barely big enough for me to fit into and there was barely any room to breathe. It felt more like a tomb than a safe haven from the sun. I couldn’t hear anything from inside the tunnel except for a strange crackling noise of a wood inside a fire-place. It was at this time that I begin to be very scared. I cried out for my mom, for my father, for Sylvia, but no one and nothing called back to me. I begin to cry inside my tomb and to worry that this is where my life would end. The heat from outside the tunnel had finally reached inside and I began to sweat. The heat was so hot it felt as if I had put my face into a fire and it wasn’t long after that, that I passed out from the heat.

I woke up in the tunnel hours later, but felt like days. Like I said I couldn’t turn around inside my little tunnel. Afraid that I would be stuck here forever I tried to move backwards. I was met with resistance at first, but little by little I found myself moving. It took everything I had left to work my way out of the tunnel or so I thought. Once out of the tunnel I quickly realized it was going to take a lot more of me to survive than to get out of the tunnel. As my feet touched the ground I pushed one last time from inside the tunnel. I fell to the ground and just laid there inhaling the dust and ashes that would now make up our world. I was so tired I just laid there and I felt like laying there forever. Then it hit me all at once like a ton of bricks falling from outer space. Everything and everyone I loved was now gone. My family, my friends, my home, my school, everything I knew was gone only to be replaced with strangers and a strange land. Tears began to stream from my face causing the ash and dirt all around my face to turn to mud. Mud I wouldn’t wipe away for days, for weeks even. I was only fifteen when the sun attacked in the middle of the night and I was only a child, but the next day I was expected to be a man.

I lay in the dirt for a long time. I didn’t know what to do or where to go. Hours after my rebirth from my tomb I finally got up to look around. It was cold once again and the darkness had settled back in. The only light that could be seen was that of the smoldering trees in the far distance. The forest that had once been part of the landscape was now a mountain of ash and the trees that had survived the sun were now burning along joining their brothers and sisters in the ash. I slowly made my way back to the road trying to make my way back to the family car. All I found was an empty shell that was more or less part of the road now. I never saw my families bodies and part of me still hoped that was a good sign, but they too had joined the trees in the ash. I was lost and for the first time there was no one there to guide me. I started to make my way down what was left of the road. I would later find out that the events of that night were caused by a solar flare and not the actual sun coming out at night, but time and minds always find a way to call something by a name they truly aren’t. That is what happened the day the sun came out at night.”

The little girl’s mom walks into the room, “And that is where we are ending your history lesson for tonight.” The little girl begins to protest, but her mother gives her a stern look and the child puts her arms down. “Sylvia must she go to bed now? I still have many stories to tell,” the old man says to his only daughter. “There will be plenty of nights to tell your stories father, but the rest of the night is for sleep. Anna go brush your teeth and get ready for bed.” Little Anna gets up from the spot beside her grandfather’s bed. She leans in to give him a hug and the old man tries his best to get his arms around the small child, but he is still much too weak. Anna skips out of the small room on her way to the well to brush her teeth. The old man begins to cough and becomes winded from the actions. Sylvia runs over to his side taking the wash cloth from off her shoulder. She wipes the little bits of blood from around the old man’s mouth, “You are over doing it father. We agreed that you would rest.” “I have been resting,” the old man tells his daughter. “No, you have been telling stories all day and checking up on us. Don’t think I haven’t noticed those blue eyes looking out at me.” “I get lonely here in my room. I’m dying Sylvia and the loneliness is making it worse.” Sylvia pretends to not her what her father has said about his death like she has for the last few months.

“You need to rest father and everything will get better.” “You and I both know that there is no getting better, and the sooner you come to terms with it Sylvia the sooner.” “The sooner what?” His daughter interrupts. “I’ve already lost my husband, my mother, and that is all there seems to be is loss. What is even the point of living father? What is the point of going through life just to die?” The old man looks away from his daughter, “There is no solution or answer I can give to you. We are humans and it is a fact of life that we will all die someday, and the fact that we lived is all we have. Nothing has been easy for you your whole life and it never will be, but you must keep on living even after everyone and everything is gone.” “But why,” his daughter begs from his bed side? “Because it is the way of the People of the Sun.”

Broken Up Thoughts

Her eyes twitch in the moon light. The reflective light from the sun dances across her retinas signifying the end of a once miserable life. The imprint of my rough hands forever left stained around her neck. She said she would always be mine and now despite everything that has happened before tonight the lie has become true. I will always remember our last seconds together as the life escaped from her. The bits of saliva that oozed from her dying lips to my hands. It is still warm as I wipe what’s left across my chest. Her hearts stopped pounding a second ago yet her fingers feel icy cold. The blue in her face makes her seem angel like. She looks as I will always picture her, isolating and unperceptive of her actions. She didn’t suffer enough. She didn’t struggle enough. I wanted her to feel pain. I wanted her to feel like I do. Instead she gave in to the truth, the fact that this was the end. She got the best of me once again.

 

I’m obsessed with hearts lately. Maybe because mine is so destroyed and shattered. I feel the loneliness wash over me, but I don’t understand what’s really going on. I mean I am alive after all, so what does it mean if I want to die? To disappear far away from here? Everyday is like the last four hundred, but I am sure I’m okay even if I believe that I am not. Life moves and goes at a constant speed. Everything is just a phase and I’m sure this one will pass. Same as the ones before. Nothing last forever.

 

“When you give up on your dreams it is like the rest of you has died away. You no longer want what becomes because you already know what will never be. It’s a sad existence from that point on. A pointless position in a line of every disappointing disappointment.”
“You done feeling sorry for yourself or should I go get a gun?”
“Totally not funny Gwen. Plus it takes a couple of days to get a permit.”
“I’ve got one on file just encase of situations like this.”
“You’re such an asshole.”

 

It is hotter than a crotch in this fucking place. I’m still very behind on putting together my office. Writing and working on this site, twitter, and two books at the same time will do that to some people. I’d love to just put all that aside and get this office finished, but no work, no need for this office. So I sit sweating it out in the hot, hot heat. Oh and it’s fucking fall… My ass… Drinking never helps this… What all the greats did it.. (Insert a great writer of your choice.) Peer pressure from the dead… 

Time to sell that soul.. So I want to put the word out on other people’s books as well, but I feel it is way to forward to just do it… So if you are cool with it let me know and I will add your book or project… Well here is more of my shit…