Found Stuff

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It was raining when Chance reached the edge of town.  His shoes squelched a little as they sank into the mud.  Through his rain-splattered glasses, he couldn't really make out the name of the place he ended up.  It didn't matter, really, he just needed to get into town, get something to eat, and dry off.

"What are you running from?"

Chance turned to see a man standing under an umbrella a few feet away.  "Excuse me?"

"What are you running from?" He smiled to the boy.

"I'm not running from anything, Sir."

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"Out all by yourself?"

"I just live right in town," he lied with a smile.

"What is the name of this town?"

CHance silently cursed himself and smiled.  "Sir, the sign is right behind me."

"You don't know, do you?"

The man took a step closer and Chance didn't waste another second.  HIs feet made a sucking sound as they yanked themselves out of the mud and he sprinted down the street towards the distant lights of town.

He took a misstep outside of a diner and fell, skidding several feet and giving a hiss of pain.

"Steve!  Some kid just twisted his ankle out front.

Light spilled out the door and a large man thudded down the steps and into the rain.

Chance stared up at the man as he was offered a hand, then reached up and allowed the man to help him up and inside.

"Christ, you look like a wet rat, kid."  A woman brought him a towel as he slid into a booth.

"Thank you."  

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"How the Hell can you be dying?"

"Well, you see, there's this thing about those of us who live life on this mortal coil where, you know, we die."

"Why are you so calm?  You act like it's no big deal."

"It's not.  We all die.  This is just a little sooner than I anticipated.  Besides, what was it that Peter Pan used to say?  'Death sounds like an amazing adventure.'"

"You're sick, you know that?  What about your mom or Raven or Nana?"

"...They'll be okay.  Now I'll be able to watch out for them like I should have."

"What about me?"

"Do you remember when we first met?  You told me that I made a terrible brooding artist because I always had that stupid smile on my face..."

"...You still have that stupid smile on your face."

"I do.  And you still have that know-it-all smirk.  And I'm positive that it'll still be plastered on your face long after I'm gone."

"Since when have you been the down-to-earth one?"

"Since you became the worry-wart."

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"You know how sand in an hourglass seems to flow faster as the amount in the top decreases?  That's what my life feels like."

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"If I could go back in time and change one event, I wouldn't kill Hitler or meet Jesus.... I'd ask you to go to the movies."

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((Bwhaha.  This reminds me of Sam.)

It was scruffy and grayish, though had once been blue.  The faux fur was matted in places, and other places scorched through with nearly perfectly round cigarette holes.  Laughable though it seemed, not one shallow faced boy let out even the smallest snicker as the man trudged by, just short of dragging his left leg behind him.

The rack of dripping glasses in his arms leaving dripping lines down the front of the costume as he gimped by, nearly growling at a pale-looking boy who stared too long.  The scowling, scruffy face was half-hidden in shadow by the drooping ear.

"Why is that man dressed as a bunny?"

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"Professor!  Professor!"

The robust man squeezed his way between two yelling men and wiped his brow as he made his way towards the eager-looking student not too far away.

The boy was standing, waiting, and kept looking towards the source of all the yelling.

"Robert, my boy!  You made it!"  The overweight man mopped his brow with the handkerchief again and shook the boy's hand.  "Let's find some seats where we can see!" he said, raising his voice to be heard over the rabid cheers.

"Where exactly are we?" Rob yelled back.

Professor Greenly led Rob onto a set of risers before directing the student's attention to the cage in the middle of the room.  "At the cock fights!"

Robert paled as he turned his eyes to the cage.  Feathers were flying left and right, beaks and clawed feet drawing blood from both birds as they flew at each other angrily.

"Oh my god," the boy said, more to himself than to his mentor.

The older man had withdrawn a flask from inside his jacket and took a swig of it before offering it to the other, clapping him hard on the back.  "Here.  It's only apple juice, but it's much too hot in here... don't want to get dehydrated."

The smaller rooster made a wild dive at the larger, and though it made a valiant effort, the bigger bird was too fast and delivered a crippling blow to its side.

Rob's cheeks lost even more color as he watched the loser feebly lifting its bleeding head off the ground.  

The owners of both birds stepped into the cage.  The winning bird was held high to the raucous cheers of the onlookers before he was carried out of the cage.  

The owner of the loser lifted a baseball bat, and brought it down in three fast swings with three sickening "CRACKS".

Rob nearly fell off the risers in his hurry, stumbling with a hand over his mouth into the night air before he doubled over and heaved into the grass.  His professor joined him a moment later.

When his stomach had no more to give, Rob angrily wiped his mouth and rounded on his teacher.  "What the Hell was that!?"

His mentor remained calm.  "That was a cock fight."

"What the Hell is wrong with you?  This is how you entertain yourself?  Pitting abused animals against each other?"  Rob looked ready to vomit again.

The professor took two steps forward and shoved the boy against the wall.  "You think that was bad?"  The man's voice was low, barely containing his fury.  "That?  Two animals that may very well have done the same thing to each other had they merely crossed paths on the street?  It's nothing."

"How can you possibly say that?" The boy's own anger and disgust resurfaced.  He gave the larger man a shove.  "What right--"

"Right?  You want to speak to me about the rights of animals that act on instinct?  Robert, you told me yesterday that you planned to enlist, is that correct?"

Rob blinked, halted by the sudden change of conversation.  "I... Yes.  I'm meeting with a recruiter tomorrow..." 

Greenly took a step back and looked over the boy.  They were the same height, the younger had little to no fat or muscle on him.  "Did you see what happened to that young rooster in there?"

"Of course."

"That's you."

"Excuse me?"

"Did I ever tell you that I was in the Marines?"

"I... no."

"I was a lot like you: small, not very built... naive."

"I'm not--"

"I'd never seen anything die before I joined.  Never been in a fight.  Death was a fairy tale to me.  Boot camp was Hell.  I learned quite a bit about rock-climbing, following directions... about killing.  I became close friends with a boy named George.  We were as close as brothers.  After graduation, a few of the officers took our class out drinking.  We ended up rowdy, loud, and in the middle of nowhere.  Next thing I know, George and I are facing off, wrestling.  George was bigger than me and got the upper hand.  He had me by the throat, cutting off my air.  I panicked, and the alcohol prevented me from realizing the the officers wouldn't have allowed him to really harm me.  Training kicked in.  It happened fast.  I killed him."

Rob stared in miserable awe at his teacher's shadowed face.

"We look after our own.  The officers swore every man there to secrecy; sliced deep into my arm," he rolled up his sleeve to show a deep scar on his forearm, "they told their superiors that George had drank too much and attacked me.  Said it was self-defense.  I never forgave myself--for killing him or for lying about his final moments..."

"Professor... I'm very sorry to hear that," Rob told him sincerely, "but why are you telling me this?"

"Robert... you are a kind soul--you're innocent in ways that you won't understand until you are as old as I am, possibly older.  But the military... it's not for people like you, or like I used to be.  It's for people like them," he motioned back towards the arena.  "People who derive pleasure from pain and death and violence.

"Ultimately, it is your decision, but I urge you to take into account what you saw here tonight and the way you truly feel inside.  What happens in those barracks and on those training fields is not noble, or glorious, or even human at times."

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(I think I found this on a profile somewhere, but I don't know where.  If you know who originally wrote it, let me know so I can credit them)

The thing about madness is not, as most people tend to think, that it is some type of slow and debilitating disease that creeps and seeps into your consciousness... cell by cell infecting your mind with illusions and delusions of reality.... It is not constant nor is it permanent... Madness is but a moment... an instant of total and unbearable clarity that explodes within you... Showing the secrets of the universe... in that one instant changing the way your eyes and your mind perceive things forever.... This moment is so mind-numbingly clear that it wipes away all memory of the way you saw things in the past... leaving this great empty space longing to be filled and your mind screams out for mercy... for just a moment of the blissful ignorance you had lived in once before... you find yourself pleading with the gods and crying to demons... offering your soul...your life... anything.... just to be for an instant the blind and carefree child you were before... because even though you cannot remember how it felt to be such a child, you do remember that it did not hold the agonies of this vision.

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(This won me grand prize for the Halloween writing contest.  Was published in the local paper)

Seek me out, 

This lost child of the night, 

Look for my eyes, 

Shining brilliant blue in the moonlight, 

Find the path,

Into my uncharted heart,

Watch my slow smile, 

Spread across my face as you dart.

Run for cover, 

Away from this troubled mind,

And try to escape, 

This spell that binds.

Poor little thing, 

So small and unsure, 

Where is that fluid:

The only cure?

That crimson mixture,

So sweet on the run,

Once flowing through your veins, 

And now over my tongue.