TPWW Forums - View Single Post - Not sure where this goes... (Creative writing)

**Fryza** · 06-18-2007, 01:30 PM

"Why are you here? Don't you drive home?"

"Oh, I do, I just saw you sitting alone and thought I'd give you company, maybe a lift."

"No, I'm fine, just thinking."

"You know Eric, you do a lot of thinking. Maybe you should try doing sometime." Jo smiled and rubbed his short hair. "Well, if you don't want a ride home, I'm going to head out." She waved goodbye and walked to her car. Eric watched her for a moment then turned back to his gaze.

"Me do something? Yeah, right..."

One month, six weeks after Armageddon Passed

"I'm telling you, I hate school." Jeremy threw up his hands in exaggeration, to show his dislike for school. The two were walking to school just like normal, trudging through the snow.

Eric only shrugged his shoulders, tugging on his own book bag. "You're only a freshman Jeremy, you need to tough it out. It gets better as you go along."

"Easy for you to say, you're a genius. Some of us don't get straight A's."

"Hey, I spend a lot of time on my work too, studying and such. It just doesn't come naturally to me, I just have to take the time to do it."

"Yeah right Eric, you get everything done before I can get one thing done. You're frickin' smart." Eric shrugged again, he didn't think so. The two walked to the cafeteria as normal, getting their food and sitting down at their normal table. School was only to be half a day today, which made both of them happy.

As Eric took a bite of his cereal, he could hear snickering coming from the other end of the table. He glanced up to spot a group of girls standing around the table, one sitting down. The light in his eyes made it hard to see, but he could tell the girl by what little skin color he did see.

Her name was Kayla Hinahon; she was a Filipino-American student who moved to the States during Freshman year. She had become quite popular for her looks, and Eric knew well enough that she was a manipulator. He did his best to steer clear of her, which in this instance was unavoidable. "Why hello boys."

"Hello, Kayla." Jeremy said. He knew her name, but nothing about her. Eric continued to eat his cereal, trying not to get tangled in this. Kayla and her crowd were known for still being petty, junior high-like. Kayla giggled and looked to Eric.

"Eric, I've known you for three years, and you can't even say hi to me, that's rude!" She joked, smiling.

"Hi."

"Aw, that didn't sound very nice." Kayla crossed her arms and pretended to pout. Eric sighed and continued to eat his cereal. Kayla raised an eyebrow smiling. "Hey, what's that on your eye? You put too much mascara there didn't you?" Eric clenched a fist instantly; her referencing to a new black eye his father gave him.

"Kayla, can't you whore yourself on a different corner?" Joanne said, walking to the table. Kayla's friends met the girl head on, but Kayla only chuckled.

"Of course I can't. And even if I wanted to, all those trashy white girls like you are there. Maybe if your brain wasn't in your chest, you'd have half a mind." Kayla smirked, standing up.

Jo looked flustered. "What? You shouldn't be talking, not with all the tissues and socks you need to even fill yours up!" Kayla got closer to Jo, getting in her face and getting ready to say something.

"Whoa, is there a problem here?" Mr.Williams, one of the English teachers at the school, separated the girls, Kayla's group backing up further.

"No, there's no problem, just discussing future professions." Kayla smiled and walked away. Mr. Williams shook his head and looked at Jo with a sigh.

"Look, I don't what you two were talking about, but I better not catch it again, you hear me?"

"Sorry Mr. Williams."

"Don't be sorry, just learn from what has transpired." He shook his head and walked away. Mr. Williams was one of the better-liked teachers from the over-all student body at West Oakland. He was in his late twenties, and was a very easy-going person. He doesn't, however, tolerate fighting amongst students, breaking up several fights on campus.

"Jo, you know now they're just going to smear your name all over the place." Eric looked at his friend confused and worried.

"Eh, let them. Their petty squabbles. Maybe one day they'll get syphilis and would have wished they'd kept themselves shut." Eric choked on his cereal, trying not to laugh too hard. "What?"

"Nothing, just wasn't expecting you to say that." The three talked until classes started, and they went their separate ways. Eric grabbed his book bag and began his way to class, turning around and bumping right into a solid chest.

Nearly falling back on his ass, Eric looked up to see it was a kid named CT Ellis, a senior who played for both the wrestling team and the football team. CT stood about six feet four inches, and weighed probably about two hundred pounds. Eric straightened himself out and ducked his head. "I'm sorry about that CT."

"Eh, shit happens." CT paid no further thought and moved on, Eric shook his head and kept going. He never interacted near CT too much, but most people said he was pretty violent. Couldn't have been worse than his father, but the last thing Eric needed was another black eye to match the one he already had.

"Hey, Keillor's open!" Eric heard the shout after school, studying in the gym while others played basketball for fun. He looked up now and then to watch them play. He glanced up to see the ball head towards Derrick. Eric chuckled and shook his head, Derrick was an ace with three points, and he was in perfect position. Eric attended his math, reading a problem only to be interrupted by the sound of the ball moving and confusion.

"What the Hell Derrick, I thought you had that?" Eric looked up to see the ball rolling near the court, and one of the players yelling at Derrick. Keillor shrugged.

"I thought I had it, it looked like my hand was on it. I must have just misjudged it."

"Pretty damned big misjudgment for someone who was completely in the open. For fuck's sake." The kid shook his head while Keillor looked over his left hand. With a shrug, they continued playing ball. And if timed perfectly, Eric remembered the lunchroom incident again. Like clockwork, the image was perfect.

"Look at this Jennifer," Benjamin Sinn shook his head and sighed, "Police today caught an arsonist."

"That's good, why are you sighing about it Ben?"

"The paper is giving some bullshit that the guy had no tools on him- matches or gasoline or whatever."

"Then how'd he start the fire?" Jen walked over to Ben, confused. Ben popped open a beer, his first of the night, on a cold Friday night.

"They're not sure. His clothes seemed to be scorched by his hands, but the hands themselves are fine." The two sighed as Eric walked into the room, looking for something. "Hey, Eric."

Eric turned to his father and stood attentive out of habit. "Yes?"

"How does one burn his clothing but not himself, and start a fire without anything to start it?" Ben always asked tricky questions to his oldest son, usually he knew the answer. Eric thought about it and shook his head. Ben smirked, "Well I'll be damned Jennifer, this is the first time that boy has been stumped. This is one doozy of a case."

"Who's covering it?"

"Some guy named Richard Private. I think I heard of him, he worked that missing kid case a few weeks back. Good guy, grew up around here."

"Oh, he's friends with Mr. Keillor I think." Eric said, remembering Derrick mentioning the name before, fondly.

"Huh, I think you're right. Making up for not knowing the answer. Maybe you're not totally useless all the time boy." Benjamin took a sip of his beer and continued reading the paper. Jennifer shook her head, and Eric just walked to his room. Jennifer followed him.

She opened Eric's door to see him staring out the window into the night sky. She kneeled beside his chair and sighed. "Eric, are you okay honey?"

"Yeah mom, just staring at the sky is all, watching the clouds and buildings."

"Look, Eric, I know you can't take your father's abuse, and I wish I could stop it, but I can't."

"Mother, I know. It's okay."

"No it isn't Eric, dammit!" Eric jerked his head back, surprised by his mother's sudden change in tone. She began tearing up and took a deep breath. "Look, your father loves you a lot, but he's just not happy with his current situation."

"Mom, it's okay. I can take it."

"Eric, I love you. You know you're my baby, right?" Jennifer hugged her son, and held him tight.

Eric gripped his mother closely; he rarely got moments like this. "I love you too mom." She let go and smiled, leaving him alone. Eric continued looking out the window into the empty sky. The streetlights kept the stars from being shown, but Eric knew they were there. The pit of his stomach grew restless, but it wasn't from hunger. He decided to go to bed early, maybe the sleep would settle his nerves.

**

The far east side of New York is infamous for its docks, and the docks are infamous for their empty warehouses. Thankfully for Andrew Lyson, it wasn't hard to identify the numbers of the buildings. He found warehouse 8A and opened the unlocked door, stepping in. "Hello?"

His voice echoed through the building, the random items cluttering the floor. He examined the surroundings nervously. Lyson was always afraid of his monthly meetings; the chills ran down his spine and made him shiver. "Back here, leech."

The voice caused Lyson to jump. He knew the voice, and it was the one he didn't want to hear. He assumed the other wasn't far away, but he made his trek over. A top a platform was a table, half shrouded in darkness, with a seat on the lit side. "Please, Mr. Lyson, sit. I'd like to hear about the happenings."

Lyson sat down, stumbling over his words. "Well, I have some news to give you." He tried to mutter a smile, but was too nervous.

"Yes Lyson, that's why you're here."

"Well, three of our boys were arrested last week, and bail for all three was put at 200 grand."

There was a sigh from the shadows, cloth could be heard moving. "Salvador and his boys, no?" That was the second voice, heavily accented.

"Y-Yes, they were caught robbing a bank and murdering a security guard." After a sigh, Lyson could hear the second voice say something in Italian, obviously frustrated. From past experiences, he didn't like the sound of the man's voice.

"200k each?"

"Yes, the judge made it clear that it had to be 200,000 dollars, American, for each bail."

"$600,000 eh? Well, how much are those three worth alive, or dead?"

"If we don't get them out, they'll just cost tax payer dollars." Lyson said.

"I don't pay taxes, so it's not my concern."

"But they could also talk." That created a silence from within the darkness. Lyson sat quietly and looked around. He hated being at the docks, especially at night. Shadows played tricks on the mind. He looked straight forward, waiting for an answer.

"Well, they could redeem themselves, but I am amused how bail is put up when they murdered a guard. Some laws they got here."

"The point of focus is that they could talk, which is what I want to eliminate. And I don't tolerate failure that large."

"We do have five inside guys as guards in the prison they will attend, and several prisoners. All I need to do is give the word, and we can have all three out."

There was silence again, but not as long as the prior silence. "That works, do it. It's easier to recruit better talent than pay for worse talent."

"THAT then.?

"What else is on the agenda Mr. Lyson?"

Lyson froze for a second, gathering himself. He pulled up his brief case, pulling out some memos and sliding them across the table. "This is what the New York State government had been compiling data for. A lot has come from the 'Armageddon Passed' site."

"Catalyst."

"E-Excuse me?" Lyson sounded confused. He shook his head and looked towards the darkness curiously.

"I prefer not to call it that wretched name. I prefer you call it the 'Catalyst', since that is what it is. You know what a catalyst is, don't you Mr. Lyson?"

"Y-Yes, it's something that begets an event or chain of occurrences."

"Very good Mr. Lyson. I'm glad you know. And tell me, Mr. Lyson, do you believe in God?"

Andrew Lyson paused, holding his hands up confused. "I don't understand your question."

"You should, it's pretty straight forwarded."

"I guess I do..." Before he could finish, the click and the bang caused his eyes to flash open and shut. The light from the gun lit up the room, causing a temporary glow of his employers, and their images. The bullet whizzed past Lyson, nearly making him fall out of his chair. He looked up and tried to regain his focus. All he could hear was laughing, and the sound of the gun being put back.

"Mr. Lyson, you have provided me with all I need. You can go." With a nod, Andrew Lyson grabbed his case and walked- swiftly- out of the warehouse. The slam of the door echoed throughout the warehouse.

"Was that really wise, shooting at him for not properly answering a question?" The foreign voice asked, as the speaker walked away and sat in the opposing seat. The other man leaned forward and cracked his fingers.

"Not being decisive could lead to death in this business. Lyson should be on the ball more. But, these plans are useful. Will keep me from having to do all the work myself." There was a slight chuckle.

"And now what?"

"Alea Iacta Est."

06-18-2007, 01:30 PM	#2
Fryza Fthagn? Posts: 10,042	"Why are you here? Don't you drive home?" "Oh, I do, I just saw you sitting alone and thought I'd give you company, maybe a lift." "No, I'm fine, just thinking." "You know Eric, you do a lot of thinking. Maybe you should try doing sometime." Jo smiled and rubbed his short hair. "Well, if you don't want a ride home, I'm going to head out." She waved goodbye and walked to her car. Eric watched her for a moment then turned back to his gaze. "Me do something? Yeah, right..." *One month, six weeks after Armageddon Passed* "I'm telling you, I hate school." Jeremy threw up his hands in exaggeration, to show his dislike for school. The two were walking to school just like normal, trudging through the snow. Eric only shrugged his shoulders, tugging on his own book bag. "You're only a freshman Jeremy, you need to tough it out. It gets better as you go along." "Easy for you to say, you're a genius. Some of us don't get straight A's." "Hey, I spend a lot of time on my work too, studying and such. It just doesn't come naturally to me, I just have to take the time to do it." "Yeah right Eric, you get everything done before I can get one thing done. You're frickin' smart." Eric shrugged again, he didn't think so. The two walked to the cafeteria as normal, getting their food and sitting down at their normal table. School was only to be half a day today, which made both of them happy. As Eric took a bite of his cereal, he could hear snickering coming from the other end of the table. He glanced up to spot a group of girls standing around the table, one sitting down. The light in his eyes made it hard to see, but he could tell the girl by what little skin color he did see. Her name was Kayla Hinahon; she was a Filipino-American student who moved to the States during Freshman year. She had become quite popular for her looks, and Eric knew well enough that she was a manipulator. He did his best to steer clear of her, which in this instance was unavoidable. "Why hello boys." "Hello, Kayla." Jeremy said. He knew her name, but nothing about her. Eric continued to eat his cereal, trying not to get tangled in this. Kayla and her crowd were known for still being petty, junior high-like. Kayla giggled and looked to Eric. "Eric, I've known you for three years, and you can't even say hi to me, that's rude!" She joked, smiling. "Hi." "Aw, that didn't sound very nice." Kayla crossed her arms and pretended to pout. Eric sighed and continued to eat his cereal. Kayla raised an eyebrow smiling. "Hey, what's that on your eye? You put too much mascara there didn't you?" Eric clenched a fist instantly; her referencing to a new black eye his father gave him. "Kayla, can't you whore yourself on a different corner?" Joanne said, walking to the table. Kayla's friends met the girl head on, but Kayla only chuckled. "Of course I can't. And even if I wanted to, all those trashy white girls like you are there. Maybe if your brain wasn't in your chest, you'd have half a mind." Kayla smirked, standing up. Jo looked flustered. "What? You shouldn't be talking, not with all the tissues and socks you need to even fill yours up!" Kayla got closer to Jo, getting in her face and getting ready to say something. "Whoa, is there a problem here?" Mr.Williams, one of the English teachers at the school, separated the girls, Kayla's group backing up further. "No, there's no problem, just discussing future professions." Kayla smiled and walked away. Mr. Williams shook his head and looked at Jo with a sigh. "Look, I don't what you two were talking about, but I better not catch it again, you hear me?" "Sorry Mr. Williams." "Don't be sorry, just learn from what has transpired." He shook his head and walked away. Mr. Williams was one of the better-liked teachers from the over-all student body at West Oakland. He was in his late twenties, and was a very easy-going person. He doesn't, however, tolerate fighting amongst students, breaking up several fights on campus. "Jo, you know now they're just going to smear your name all over the place." Eric looked at his friend confused and worried. "Eh, let them. Their petty squabbles. Maybe one day they'll get syphilis and would have wished they'd kept themselves shut." Eric choked on his cereal, trying not to laugh too hard. "What?" "Nothing, just wasn't expecting you to say that." The three talked until classes started, and they went their separate ways. Eric grabbed his book bag and began his way to class, turning around and bumping right into a solid chest. Nearly falling back on his ass, Eric looked up to see it was a kid named CT Ellis, a senior who played for both the wrestling team and the football team. CT stood about six feet four inches, and weighed probably about two hundred pounds. Eric straightened himself out and ducked his head. "I'm sorry about that CT." "Eh, shit happens." CT paid no further thought and moved on, Eric shook his head and kept going. He never interacted near CT too much, but most people said he was pretty violent. Couldn't have been worse than his father, but the last thing Eric needed was another black eye to match the one he already had. "Hey, Keillor's open!" Eric heard the shout after school, studying in the gym while others played basketball for fun. He looked up now and then to watch them play. He glanced up to see the ball head towards Derrick. Eric chuckled and shook his head, Derrick was an ace with three points, and he was in perfect position. Eric attended his math, reading a problem only to be interrupted by the sound of the ball moving and confusion. "What the Hell Derrick, I thought you had that?" Eric looked up to see the ball rolling near the court, and one of the players yelling at Derrick. Keillor shrugged. "I thought I had it, it looked like my hand was on it. I must have just misjudged it." "Pretty damned big misjudgment for someone who was completely in the open. For fuck's sake." The kid shook his head while Keillor looked over his left hand. With a shrug, they continued playing ball. And if timed perfectly, Eric remembered the lunchroom incident again. Like clockwork, the image was perfect. "Look at this Jennifer," Benjamin Sinn shook his head and sighed, "Police today caught an arsonist." "That's good, why are you sighing about it Ben?" "The paper is giving some bullshit that the guy had no tools on him- matches or gasoline or whatever." "Then how'd he start the fire?" Jen walked over to Ben, confused. Ben popped open a beer, his first of the night, on a cold Friday night. "They're not sure. His clothes seemed to be scorched by his hands, but the hands themselves are fine." The two sighed as Eric walked into the room, looking for something. "Hey, Eric." Eric turned to his father and stood attentive out of habit. "Yes?" "How does one burn his clothing but not himself, and start a fire without anything to start it?" Ben always asked tricky questions to his oldest son, usually he knew the answer. Eric thought about it and shook his head. Ben smirked, "Well I'll be damned Jennifer, this is the first time that boy has been stumped. This is one doozy of a case." "Who's covering it?" "Some guy named Richard Private. I think I heard of him, he worked that missing kid case a few weeks back. Good guy, grew up around here." "Oh, he's friends with Mr. Keillor I think." Eric said, remembering Derrick mentioning the name before, fondly. "Huh, I think you're right. Making up for not knowing the answer. Maybe you're not totally useless all the time boy." Benjamin took a sip of his beer and continued reading the paper. Jennifer shook her head, and Eric just walked to his room. Jennifer followed him. She opened Eric's door to see him staring out the window into the night sky. She kneeled beside his chair and sighed. "Eric, are you okay honey?" "Yeah mom, just staring at the sky is all, watching the clouds and buildings." "Look, Eric, I know you can't take your father's abuse, and I wish I could stop it, but I can't." "Mother, I know. It's okay." "No it isn't Eric, dammit!" Eric jerked his head back, surprised by his mother's sudden change in tone. She began tearing up and took a deep breath. "Look, your father loves you a lot, but he's just not happy with his current situation." "Mom, it's okay. I can take it." "Eric, I love you. You know you're my baby, right?" Jennifer hugged her son, and held him tight. Eric gripped his mother closely; he rarely got moments like this. "I love you too mom." She let go and smiled, leaving him alone. Eric continued looking out the window into the empty sky. The streetlights kept the stars from being shown, but Eric knew they were there. The pit of his stomach grew restless, but it wasn't from hunger. He decided to go to bed early, maybe the sleep would settle his nerves. ** The far east side of New York is infamous for its docks, and the docks are infamous for their empty warehouses. Thankfully for Andrew Lyson, it wasn't hard to identify the numbers of the buildings. He found warehouse 8A and opened the unlocked door, stepping in. "Hello?" His voice echoed through the building, the random items cluttering the floor. He examined the surroundings nervously. Lyson was always afraid of his monthly meetings; the chills ran down his spine and made him shiver. "Back here, leech." The voice caused Lyson to jump. He knew the voice, and it was the one he didn't want to hear. He assumed the other wasn't far away, but he made his trek over. A top a platform was a table, half shrouded in darkness, with a seat on the lit side. "Please, Mr. Lyson, sit. I'd like to hear about the happenings." Lyson sat down, stumbling over his words. "Well, I have some news to give you." He tried to mutter a smile, but was too nervous. "Yes Lyson, that's why you're here." "Well, three of our boys were arrested last week, and bail for all three was put at 200 grand." There was a sigh from the shadows, cloth could be heard moving. "Salvador and his boys, no?" That was the second voice, heavily accented. "Y-Yes, they were caught robbing a bank and murdering a security guard." After a sigh, Lyson could hear the second voice say something in Italian, obviously frustrated. From past experiences, he didn't like the sound of the man's voice. "200k each?" "Yes, the judge made it clear that it had to be 200,000 dollars, American, for each bail." "$600,000 eh? Well, how much are those three worth alive, or dead?" "If we don't get them out, they'll just cost tax payer dollars." Lyson said. "I don't pay taxes, so it's not my concern." "But they could also talk." That created a silence from within the darkness. Lyson sat quietly and looked around. He hated being at the docks, especially at night. Shadows played tricks on the mind. He looked straight forward, waiting for an answer. "Well, they could redeem themselves, but I am amused how bail is put up when they murdered a guard. Some laws they got here." "The point of focus is that they could talk, which is what I want to eliminate. And I don't tolerate failure that large." "We do have five inside guys as guards in the prison they will attend, and several prisoners. All I need to do is give the word, and we can have all three out." There was silence again, but not as long as the prior silence. "That works, do it. It's easier to recruit better talent than pay for worse talent." "THAT then.? "What else is on the agenda Mr. Lyson?" Lyson froze for a second, gathering himself. He pulled up his brief case, pulling out some memos and sliding them across the table. "This is what the New York State government had been compiling data for. A lot has come from the 'Armageddon Passed' site." "Catalyst." "E-Excuse me?" Lyson sounded confused. He shook his head and looked towards the darkness curiously. "I prefer not to call it that wretched name. I prefer you call it the 'Catalyst', since that is what it is. You know what a catalyst is, don't you Mr. Lyson?" "Y-Yes, it's something that begets an event or chain of occurrences." "Very good Mr. Lyson. I'm glad you know. And tell me, Mr. Lyson, do you believe in God?" Andrew Lyson paused, holding his hands up confused. "I don't understand your question." "You should, it's pretty straight forwarded." "I guess I do..." Before he could finish, the click and the bang caused his eyes to flash open and shut. The light from the gun lit up the room, causing a temporary glow of his employers, and their images. The bullet whizzed past Lyson, nearly making him fall out of his chair. He looked up and tried to regain his focus. All he could hear was laughing, and the sound of the gun being put back. "Mr. Lyson, you have provided me with all I need. You can go." With a nod, Andrew Lyson grabbed his case and walked- swiftly- out of the warehouse. The slam of the door echoed throughout the warehouse. "Was that really wise, shooting at him for not properly answering a question?" The foreign voice asked, as the speaker walked away and sat in the opposing seat. The other man leaned forward and cracked his fingers. "Not being decisive could lead to death in this business. Lyson should be on the ball more. But, these plans are useful. Will keep me from having to do all the work myself." There was a slight chuckle. "And now what?" "Alea Iacta Est."