There is a pebble in a turning mill,
Who'd have thought,
A pebble in a mill,
But the mill turns still
The pebble gets caught with a noise so shrill,
For a moment it stops,
The pebble in the mill,
But the mill turns still
The pebble has a purpose to fulfill,
It is nearly released
But remains in the mill,
But the mill turns still
The pebble is stuck,
Caught in the side
Stopped is the mill,
But the pebble is still.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
“Pain cannot be felt,
Nor songs sung,
Nor eyes opened,
Till the tempest settles,
And the wren is at rest.”
A scream first, then a laugh, then the plodding of feet along a cold dark floor. She rehearsed in her head over and over again. The scream came first, then the laugh and then the footsteps. She was hiding in her parents walk in closet, in the far back corner being as silent as she could possibly ever be. She tried to distract herself from the fact that there was quite clearly someone in her house. She tried to take in every element of the dark walk in. she began to count every single thing hanging in the closet. 66 individual shoes, 33 pairs, 12 pairs were high heels, the rest were flats, 13 coats, 7 dresses, 3 skirts. She began to feel the objects closest to her. She couldn’t see their color due to the darkness, but she could feel their texture. One was a soft, silky dress that ran all the way to the ground, another was velvet and one was plain cotton.
An ominous thought, almost unnoticed slipped into her mind. She was doing a good job distracting herself…from the person in her house. She instantly remembered why she was constantly counting coats and shoes and dresses and things of the like. There was someone in her house, a person with bad intentions, most probably trying to cover up whatever crime they had committed. Her mind was once again racing, imagining all the things that may have just happened. It was as if her mind was fighting itself. It could’ve just been a break in, she thought. But then what about the scream? Who screams when they break into a house? This internal discourse continued until she concluded it could not be a break in. Well maybe mom cut her hand on some glass and then laughed at herself foolishly and went to get a bandaid. Yes, that must be it! She concluded that of course that was what had happened, and then decided to leave the closet.
Still a bit shaken up, and with a bleak countenance, it took her a minute to be able to get up and reach to open the door. She reached and felt the cold brass doorknob send a chill throughout her body. Again, a small barely noticeable thought slipped into her head. Don’t open that door! At first she just thought she was thinking it, but soon questioned why the thought did not sound like herself in her head, but rather, the voice of a happy young mother simply telling her daughter not to open the door to the hot, dangerous oven. She convinced herself that spending time in a dark closet had made her crazy and that she was just imagining things, she again reached for the door, grabbed the knob and felt a chill. She concluded to never mind the chill and turn the knob anyway. She turned the knob and heard a click, but the door did not open. She turned it again, CLICK! And it didn’t open. CLICK CLICK CLICK! The door would not open. She panicked and started banging on the door. Still convinced that her mom had simply cut herself on some glass, she screamed, “MOM! THE DOOR WON’T OPEN!” To her bewilderment, she heard a reply in the voice of the happy young mother she had heard in her head, except even more incredulously, it was out loud. “Good job! You’re right! It won’t!” She was astonished. She did not comprehend what was happening or who was outside the door or why she couldn’t get out of the closet or why she’d heard a scream. What is going on?! She thought. And again, she heard the voice of the mother, but this time it was in her head again. Well, you’re stuck in a closet you foolish, impotent child! This time the voice still sounded happy but had a creepy, cold chill to it. She was confused and a feeling of impending doom pervaded every thought she thought and every feeling she felt. This time she absolutely lost it and began screaming. She began to scream, but was astonished when nothing came out. She tried again, desperately trying to get her voice to make a noise, any noise. But nothing came out. Not even a tiny little whisper of air. Nothing.
Her heart raced as she thought about her situation. Frightened, she realized, she was a murderers dream. She had absolutely no way to defend herself. She couldn't scream or escape. It was at this point that she gave up completely. She succumbed to the disparaging thoughts and feelings, and sat down, preparing herself for her inevitable death. Little did she know, she was not going to die. She was actually in the process of getting out of the closet.
She sat in the closet, terrified and crying, although completely silent. She eventually must have fallen asleep, because she remembered waking up. When she arose, she was laying in her bed, with her mom standing over her. Her body became immediately stiff as she realized that this was the exact scene from earlier in the day. She was no longer in the closet, but reliving her day. She was almost more terrified than before. She thought at this point that nothing could get worse. She didn't even know what to do with herself. “Mom, could you leave for a second?” she asked her mother, trying to sound sane. “Sure...” she replied, cautiously.
Once she was alone, she spoke to herself, just saying simple things, to make sure that she could speak. Then she decided she must have just been dreaming, and tried to ignore the fact that the day was proceeding exactly the same as before. She walked out of the room, and proceeded to the closet. She was careful to leave the door open. She inspected it, counting all the things in it, to see if it all matched up. It did. She turned around to leave, and the door was closed. NO. NOOOOOO. She thought. THIS IS NOT HAPPENING RIGHT NOW. She panicked once again and immediately became so overwhelmed with stress, that she passed out on the floor of the closet.
Whilst in her passed out delirium, she heard the voice of the mother. See? I saved you! That man would've come into the closet and killed you if I hadn't locked you in there! She was utterly confused. She did not know what was going on. All of the sudden, the woman appeared in front of her. She smiled and said, “I'll help you sweetie.” and then the woman, so innocent looking and slightly creepy, clubbed her in the head with a bat, and she fell unconscious even in her already unconscious state.
It was at this point that she awoke again. And she was just laying there on her bed. Until something started shaking her. And she heard a voice. “Nadia. Nadia...we are leaving in 20 minutes! Get up!” She awoke, and stared at her mother who was just leaving her room as she saw her. It hit her all at once. It was all just a dream. The whole thing. She didn't know how to feel. She was relieved that none of her worries were real, and incredibly filled with joy, knowing that none of it ever happened. It was just a figment of her imagination. And then she remembered. I wasn't completely a figment of her imagination, it was real. Sort of. She'd had the same dream every night for 16 years, and every night gone through the same horrifying experiences. And every morning woken up with the same feeling. This is why she had a sign above her bed that read, “None of it is real. That was all a dream and you are awake now. This is real.” She read this, and got out of her bed, and went about her day as normal.
Monday, September 10, 2012
I found this online, I didn't particularly care for the poem, but see if you notice anything interesting about the layout...It took me a while but once I got it it was funny! I wonder what "Shim" didn't want to be writing!
I once had a dream
a dream I lived by
my dream was sure
sure like the sky
reluctant yet proud
resilient and strong
yes to my dream, I had vowed
I held on to my dream
committed for sure
no action impure
telling a story
reliving the past
Im an unstoppable force
the past is gone
time goes on
It's something that
simply cant go back
and never regresses
no never repeats
yet it goes on and on
rather always safeguarding
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
You're walking out on to a beach. You can smell the salty scent of ocean water wafting throughout the air. You feel the sand in between your toes, filling every gap there was between them. You keep walking and with every step, the sand feels warmer and warmer. But it never feels too hot. You walk until the warm water just barely brushes your feet. The water is the perfect temperature. It's so perfectly lukewarm, that you wouldn't even know it was touching you unless you could see it. A warm summer breeze blows. The exhilarating feeling of summer wind in your hair makes you feel invincible. You are invincible.
Nothing can hurt you. Nothing can make you sad, or angry or upset. In fact, you completely forget what those feelings feel like. You can no longer remember anything that had any of those feelings associated with it. The only thing you can feel is pure happiness. You don't know why, but you are elated. It seems, as if nothing bad will ever happen. You now live here, on this perfect beach.
You lay with just your legs in the water and feel the waves gently lapping up against your perfect skin. Usually, you would put on sunscreen because of your Irish complexion and very pale skin, but the sun has no effect on you, so there is no need. You feel the warm welcoming sand envelope your body. Usually you would be bothered by the sand in your hair and every other crevice in your body, but no one else is here to see it, and there is no mess that you are going to make by being this way, so you don't care. You lay with the waves welcoming your body, more and more, into the landscape with each crash.
You stay there for as long as you like. There is no time. No deadline. No numbers. There is no where you need to be; nothing you need to do. You can do whatever you want. Whenever you want. It doesn't matter what you do. The only thing that matters is that you stay happy. Nature is there to serve you.
Eventually, you stand up and begin to walk. With your messy, sand covered body, you begin to walk down the beach. Step, step, step, step...for as long as you like. You begin to notice that you are a little hungry. You think to yourself how much you want a mango. Instantly, a mango appears to the side of your feet. You pick it up and take a bite of the fleshy fruit without bothering to peel it. You devour the mango almost instantaneously.
With your stomach satisfied, you run toward the water. You run into it and begin swimming around in a small tide pool. You open your eyes under the salty water. It doesn't hurt, because pain doesn't exist. You look at a variety of beautifully colored fish. Some stripped, some with spots, some purple, some yellow, all sorts of fish. Any kind you can think of. Eventually, you get out and and begin to walk again.
For a moment, something slips into your head about someone, somewhere, who doesn't like you or is upset with you for some reason. Before you can let the thought progress any further, a beautiful rose petal falls from a cloudless sky. You pick it up and smell it. It is the most pleasant scent you have ever smelled, and you immediately forget your worries. Suddenly you hear a voice.
“IS YOUR HOMEWORK DONE YET?! WE HAVE TO LEAVE IN THREE MINUTES!”
You snap back to reality. You are back in your real life. The place riddled with worries, deadlines, expectations and people who want things from you. This is the place where nothing works right and nothing goes your way. You look at the ornate grandfather clock across from you. A mere minute and a half had passed. You get up and walk into the kitchen to get ready to leave. It is loud and chaotic with your little siblings turning your house into shear pandemonium. All you want to do is go back to that blissful minute and a half. You walk out the door, and trip on the way out. You fall flat on your face. In getting back up, you think to yourself that nothing will ever work and nothing will ever make you happy. But somewhere deep inside of you, that minute and a half left you with a feeling that maybe, just maybe, you can do it.
This story won 2nd place at the Burnt Hills Adirondack Womens Society Writing Contest.
Most people think of a vacation with their family as a good thing. Usually, it is something people look forward to. You talk about the amazing vacation you had and all the fun things you did with your friends, and usually, they are all jealous. That was my belief when this whole ordeal started. I was going on vacation! Great! This was going to be a great escape from the mountains of work I had at home! I wish I could say that this was how I would remember this “vacation” forever, unfortunately, this is not so.
Our plan was simple: my parents and I would drive from our home in Cupertino, California to the airport in Oakland. From there, we were headed to Orlando to catch a cruise to Cozumel, Mexico. Our family usually didn't take big trips like this, so I was getting pretty excited. The short ride to the airport seemed to take hours upon hours. It literally seemed to be endless. After the eternal car ride, we arrived at the airport. It felt like somehow, someone had slowed time down and everything was taking longer than normal. We were sitting at our terminal waiting for our plane to arrive and I was getting anxious, so I decided I was going to start trying to figure out where random people in the airport were headed.
I was an ordinary 16 year old girl. At least that is what I thought at the time. I had been raised to be very attentive to details. For instance, most people in an airport would just walk right by the guy dressed in a business suit and pay no attention to him. But my parents made sure at a very young age that I knew when things were off. Said business man was wearing a black suit, with a white shirt and black Nike's. Yes, the business man was wearing athletic shoes with his very professional business suit. Like I said, most people would notice, but I did. However, nothing else really seemed off about him, so I ignored him as soon as he went to his gate, which was probably about a mile worth of airport hallways away. I leaned over to my parents,
“Hey did you see that guy wearing Nike's with his business suit?! Weirdo...”
“Of course we saw him! It's ridiculous what some people think they can get away with these days!” So I went about figuring out where I thought people were going and what they were up to. A few people were going to beaches, and a few were on business trips. There were also a few who had clearly pretended to go on a business trip, and then lied to their husband or wife and met up with some “significant other”.
Eventually, our plane arrived and we boarded. Another thing I picked up from my parents, was planning ahead. When you are in a new place, you always make sure you know the quickest escape route. So as soon as I got on the plane, I made sure I knew exactly where the exits were. I took a quick look around to see who I'd be sharing the plane with for the next several hours. For the most part, everyone appeared to be somewhat normal. There were just a few odd balls here and there. The elderly man with purple hair was the most troubling. As we flew, I began making up a story in my head as to why this mans hair was purple. While doing this, I drifted off to sleep and didn't wake up until we were landing.
We arrived to a hot, humid August day in Florida. We made it to our port and after waiting for what seemed to be forever, we made it on to our boat. I was feeling pretty happy! So far, this vacation was everything I could've hoped for! We meandered around the boat as we sailed off to our Mexican paradise. There were a lot of things to see and do on the boat. Food of all sorts, and so many activities, I wouldn't have enough time to do them all before our time on the cruise was done! I decided I wanted to explore our deck. Since we were on vacation, I figured my parents would give me a little leisure in what I wanted to do.
“Hey Mom? Can I go look around the deck?”
“Sure! Be back soon! And no talking to strangers! Even the cute boys!”
“Okay mom. Whatever...” I left and began to venture around the deck. There were a few cute boys but there was one man that really caught my eye. His hair was slightly grey and he was very built. He wore a Hawaiian t-shirt and Bermuda shorts. He had a big hat on and stood looking out over the ocean intensely. I took note of his running shoes and went on my way, exploring the rest of the deck. But for the rest of the day, I couldn't get Bermuda shorts man out of my head.
The next day, I woke up before either of my parents, who slept like rocks, even on the moving ship. I decided to try to be the good little daughter they had always wanted (although for the most part, I was a good kid). I left the room and went and got us all doughnuts to eat for breakfast. As I was rounding the corner to enter the room, I heard Bermuda shorts man. He seemed to be talking on the phone. He was definitely speaking another language, maybe Russian or Czech. I hid behind the corner instead of turning and walking into my room. I found it entertaining to know things about people that they didn't know I knew. It was often useful too. So, as I silently stood just around the corner, listening to this older man speak fast Russian (or something of the sort) I considered why he was talking in such a hushed voice. My first thought was, “Maybe he's going to propose to his girlfriend and wanted to arrange something with someone so he could pop the question at the perfect time!” Then I realized that I think about marriage way too much, and the odds of this somewhat elderly gentleman getting engaged at his age were very low. It was also then that I realized he sounded angry. He hung up, but then started a new conversation in English, although it was spoken with a thick accent. It was hard to tell what he was saying, but I heard the important parts.
“...I'm here right now...yes, it'll be done by tomorrow...I have everything under control...They wont even know what hit them and no one will know...good day.” What I was hearing was a little bit unsettling. I didn't really want to jump to conclusions but it sorta sounded like this man was going to kill someone! I decided now would be a good time to pretend I was just coming around the corner.
When I rounded the corner, I was startled to see that Bermuda shorts man was staring me directly in the face. “I knew you were there the whole time you know. I don't take kindly to eavesdroppers. In my opinion, they're quite rude. I thought your parents would've raised you better. Seeing as they tend to be manner freaks.” I started to panic, realizing that this man apparently knew my parents, and seemed to not be a great person in general. “You see, I might as well just kill you now, since I was going to do it anyways. I mean really, whats a few hours difference?!” I freaked out. I had no idea what to do. I had thought of some of the things I had learned from my dad, who had taught me self defense from a young age. I decided I should do something rather than let him keep talking. I casually dropped the doughnuts. This man appeared to be an assassin because whoever he was, he intended to kill me, and apparently my parents too. I knew that if he was indeed an assassin, he was sure to be armed with something, whether it be a gun or a knife. I came up with a plan.
I was going to kick out both of his kneecaps, and break both of his wrists, therefore rendering him helpless. This way he couldn't walk, and he certainly couldn't try to pull a gun or knife. “You should really be more considerate of others when-” I cut him off mid sentence by absolutely crushing his kneecaps. Screaming in pain, I then destroyed his wrists. At that points, I decided I should shut him up, so as to avoid making a big scene. So I crushed his windpipe with my heel. He was immediately silenced, and shortly thereafter very dead.
I quickly, and quietly dragged him back to my room.
“MOM!” I said in a hushed whisper, “This guy was going to kill us!”
“What did you do to him? Who is he? How do you know that?!”
“Well, I'm pretty sure he's an assassin, and he was definitely going to kill us. I bet you twenty bucks he has a weapon. Oh and as for what I did to him...I'm pretty sure he's dead.” My Mom gave me an unsure look, as if to say, “I'm not sure you should have killed this guy.” She began going through his things. The first thing she found was a very nice gun with a silencer, loaded, safety off. The next thing we found was a seven inch knife. This meant I was right not once, but twice! He had a gun AND a knife! After that, we found a cell phone, and a business card that had a name on it. Alexander Korsakovich.
“My gosh. This is the Slovakian assassin that tried to kill Lawrence.” said my Dad, astonished.
“Who is he? Who is Lawrence? Would you guys mind to fill me in on whats going on?” My parents promised to tell me everything on the way home. They managed to call a helicopter to the boat to pick us up. How they did that, I have no idea. As soon as they could, they dragged Korsakovich's body to the edge of the boat, and threw him over. We got on the helicopter later that night.
On the helicopter, we talked for multiple hours about everything that had just happened and why. As it turns out, my parents had been spies in Bosnia for years before I was born. They made a few good enemies there, and apparently, obtained some information that someone really didn't want them to have. And that is why this certain someone sent a Slovakian assassin to kill my family and I. They had been retired several years, and I suppose whoever wanted them dead, figured that, “Revenge is a dish best served cold.” It was an eventful family vacation, and I wasn't really sure what was going to happen when I got back home. There was one thing that was for certain though. Whoever wanted us dead, still wanted us dead, and I doubt the loss of one assassin was going to stop this person from getting us the way he wanted us: cold and dead with our lips sealed for eternity.
“Should I wear it up or down?” I inquired of my stunningly beautiful sister whose appearance suggested experience in this area.
“Well, it is a first date so...down. Wait. It depends. What are you doing?”
“He said it's a surprise. And I happen to love surprises! But he did say to wear a nice dress.”
“It's hardly even a first date! You've known him for how long now?”
“Five years...three months...twenty seven days...” I said, sad that I actually knew the numbers.
“Well, someone's got it down to a science! Wear it down, and bring a hair tie! A boyscout is always prepared!” She said, reciting the familiar phrase we had heard our father and brothers say many times. I looked around to find the perfect hair tie to match my flowing yellow dress. Just as I heard a knock on the door, I found it hidden in between a few books I had been reading and slipped it on my wrist. I rushed down the stairs, nearly tripping in my four inch heels. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I looked at the guy who was at my door. He was not what I expected him to be. Although I had seen him in a suit before, tonight he looked different. His suit, jet black with a fluorescent green tie made anyones heart pound that looked at it. It made him seem sharp. He seemed to be at that time a man, rather than the boy I knew him as.
“Hey Marc.” I nearly whispered.
“Hey!” His eyes caught mine, and I couldn't breath. It seemed to me as if I might actually pass out. But before I could, I was taken out of the trance by my fathers warm voice.
“Alright now, you two don't have any fun! And for Pete's sake don't do anything dumb!”
“Yes Dad.” I muttered back. We were about to walk out the door, and just before it closed, I heard my sister say,
“Put your hair tie in your purse!!!” in an annoyed tone. I slipped the hair tie off of my wrist and put it in my purse, realizing that it probably did look childish to wear it on my wrist. We walked out the door smiling like the sun on a warm summer day. As got in the car, I casually asked what we were doing.
“It's a surprise!” he exclaimed.
“What time is it?” I inquired, knowing that he wouldn't be bothered by the strange and random question. I was obsessed with time and it bothered me when I didn't know what time it was, and he knew it. He looked at his watch.
“Huh. My watch is broken!” he looked at the clock in the dashboard. “Um...this one is broken too. So I have no idea what time it is.” he said frustrated.
“It's okay! I have my phone!” I checked my phone. Dead. Neither of us had any way to tell what time it was. Finding this peculiar, and knowing that I didn't like not knowing the time, he tried to ease my mind.
“It's okay, we'll make it into a game!”
“And how is not knowing the time going to be a game?”
“I haven't a clue in the slightest. Just go with it.”
“Okay...sure.” I replied to get him to think I was okay with this, and part of me was, but somewhere deep inside of me, I felt uneasy. I felt as if I had been stripped of one of my senses. Something inside of me felt off. And I knew it. And I could tell he knew it. A cool mist hugged us and a crescent moon dotted our car through the trees as we drove off into the darkness. Little did either of us know that this was only beginning of the peculiar events to come.
During the car ride, we talked about our days and what we did but an eerie feeling was still present in our conversation, though neither of us addressed it. After a twenty minute drive, we arrived at a popular theater in the next town over. He finally spilled the beans.
“Tonight, we will be treated to see a Broadway performance of The Lion King!”
“Awesome! Thats the best surprise ever!” I lied. The best surprise ever would be a pony. And second to that, would be a genie in a bottle, but this was still pretty good. Being the gentleman he was, he escorted me into the theater and into our seats. The lights dimmed, and the curtain came up revealing a cast so extravagantly dressed it assured an entertaining performance. Throughout the entire performance, our hands played a game of chicken. Turns out, we were both chicken. The entire night. But I put the blame on him because that is definitely the guys job.
When the show was over, we got back in the car and started driving. I had thought he was taking me home, until I noticed him taking wrong turn, after wrong turn, after wrong turn. I eventually spoke up.
“Uh where are we going?”
“It's a surprise!” He replied cheerily. One big surprise is enough for one night. I just want to go to bed. Take me home!!!
“Two big surprises in one night?! Could this day get any better?!” I said with fake enthusiasm. This day would be better if he would take me home already! I thought silently. I got frustrated easily at late hours, so I decided to keep up the charade. We drove for a short time before arriving at our new destination. I got out of the car and realized that we were at a park by the theater. We walked over to a small pond outlined by a bench and a few pine trees. We walked along the edge of the pond talking about the usual stuff. Although I was participating in a riveting conversation about different types of fish, my mind wondered and I ended up not really knowing what we were talking about and just thinking about my family.
As we walked hand in hand (He finally manned up!) next to the pond, he stopped at a small rocky beach.
“Let's see who can skip stones the farthest!” he said. Although at first I had felt very tired, I was feeling less so now and was up to a little competition.
“Sure! But only if you don't mind losing!” I joked.
“Ladies first!” I scouted the beach for the perfect rock to skip. My eye caught it and I bent down and picked it up, along with a few others that looked like they had come from the same rock due to their similar size, shape and color. I tossed the stone with the precision only someone well versed in the ways of skipping stones could. The stone skipped once...twice...three times...four times...splat.
“FOUR!” I shouted, “Beat that!”
“Oh I will, you'll see!” He threw his stone and it skipped only twice. We continued to play. I threw, he threw, and we were really enjoying ourselves. Until his third stone.
He threw the third stone. Skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...crash. The stone skipped three times out, and then, incredulously, three times back and landed on the beach. We stood, and stared at the stone.
“What?” was all he said.
“Did that jus-”
“Yeah. It just skipped backwards.” he said with awe. He picked up the stone and threw it as hard as he could. Skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...crash. He threw with all his might, but the third stone kept coming back.
“Let me try. Maybe it's just you.” I said trying not to sound mean about it. I threw the rock as hard as I could. Skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...crash. Four times out, four times back. This time I was going to do something different.
“I'm going to try to catch it this time!” I said, determined to get a different outcome. He stood closer to me. I reached into my purse and pulled out the bright yellow hair tie. I pulled my hair up into a tight bun. Serious hair for serious business.
As I pulled my hair up however, I was unaware that in doing so, I had pulled a hair out of my head. Half of it landed on my shoulder, the other half landed on his shoulder which was right next to me. Neither of us noticed. I threw the stone. Skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...thud. The stone landed squarely in my palm. Before I could think anything of the strange phenomenon, everything turned white. I felt like I was spinning and no matter how hard I tried to see something other than white, I failed. Eternity seemed to go by. But then, as if someone had flipped a switch, I saw something I had never seen before. I saw people screaming and running everywhere in what looked like it used to be a city. Utter pandemonium. I looked for the source of their horror, only to find it. I didn't have to look far because it was right in front of me. A giant cruise ship stared me straight in the face. It was moving slowly in my direction, down what appeared to be a tiny canal. I wondered how the boat was still moving in such a small space. I turned to my right remembering Marc. He stared at me, as baffled as I was. Where were we, and how did we get here?
“Holy crap. Holy crap. Holy crap. It's coming right at us. Holy cra-”
“SHUT UP! Let's just take a second and figure out whats going on!” I tried to rationalize with what was happening. It was impossible. “What do we know? We know there is a giant frigging boat that is about to pulverize our bodies like ants. We know this is bad.” that was all I knew for sure. I didn't even have a guess at the rest of what could be happening.
“We know nothing. Oh wait. We know we are about to die. I guess I can go buy that Ferrari that I always wanted! Well actually, I might as well steal it!” All I could think is how funny it was that guys were the ones that were supposed to comfort the girl when something bad happened, and yet he was the one panicking like a baby and I was the one remaining rational. Or at least somewhat rational.
The immediate shock of the preposterous situation we were in wore off quickly. I began to realize the reality of the situation. I had no idea where I was, how I got here, what was happening, or how to get home. I too, began to panic a bit, but quickly shunned the feelings realizing that I would never get home if I kept panicking. I reached for my purse to get my phone, not remembering that it was dead. Suddenly I realized that I had left it on the ground back in the real world, wherever that was, and however I got here, it hadn't transported my purse too. I knew that how we had gotten here had something to do with the third stone.
We quietly wondered to ourselves what had happened on that boat. We saw the captain of the ship with a panicked look on his face and we could tell he was trying his hardest to get the boat to stop. “Even with her mighty engines in reverse, the ocean liner was pulled further and further into the canal.”
The thought came to me that maybe this was all just a dream and I had passed out on the date or something. But I decided not to bet my life on it. So we decided to run, literally for our lives.
As we were running, the thought came to me that maybe the rock had transported us into this unreal dimension. “Marc! The rock did this! It had to have been the rock! What else could have done this?! I mean, I really have no idea what did this, but the idea that the rock did it is better than nothing right?”
“Yeah. Sure. We'll go with that. So now what do we do? Keep running?”
“Well, if it did it once, shouldn't it do it again?”
“Yeah...so where are you going to skip it? There's no water here!”
“ARE YOU CRAZY?!?! THERE IS A BEHEMOTH OF A BOAT IN THE CANAL THAT IS CHARGING AT YOU LIKE AN ANGRY BULL AND YOU'RE JUST GOING TO WALK RIGHT UP TO IT?! DO YOU KNOW WHAT ANGRY BULLS DO TO PEOPLE?! THEY KILL THEM! THEY KILL THEM DEAD!”
“Fine. Whatever. I mean, we're going to die one way or another, we might as well be crushed by a giant boat.” We ran back to the canal as fast as we could. When we got to the edge, we realized we only had time to throw it once before we would be crushed by the boat. Every emotion in my body left. I knew what I needed to do and I had one shot to get it right. I no longer felt anxious, or stressed or worried. In fact, I felt almost calm. I realized that this would all be over quickly, whether for bad or for good.
So I threw the rock. Skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...thud. I caught it in my hand. Nothing. I waited, praying every second that something would happen, that everything would turn white and we would be back home again. But nothing happened.
“CRAP! What are we supposed to do now?!”
“You tell me! Girls are smarter than boys!” The boat inched closer and was a short five feet away from us. The noise of metal screeching and people screaming did not make for the best thinking environment doubled with the fact that I was almost certainly about to be crushed. I decided that the best course of action was to try to defy all odds and throw the stone again. But this time I decided to recreate as much as I could about our position when I threw the stone the first time.
“Get over here. Stand right where you were when I threw it before.” he came closer and although neither of us were aware, his shoelace fell on top of my heels when he moved. I took half a second and hoped with all of my heart that it would work this time.
I threw the stone. Skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...thud. I caught the stone with the most grace that I had ever caught anything with before in my life. For about 2 milliseconds I whispered to myself in an almost inaudible tone. “Please. Please. Just let this work.”
White. I was spinning again. And in the midst of the confusion and spinning, I thanked everything I could think of that it had worked.
This time, I came out of my stupor in yet another place that I not only didn't want to be, but had never been before. I was on the top of what appeared to be a skyscraper. It was pitch black and there was no light coming from anywhere except one light that appeared to come out of the roof of the building. This was not the “Top of The Rock” observation deck in New York City though. In fact it wasn't an observation deck at all. It was the top of what seemed like the worlds tallest building which had no railing or security measures at all. I took a deep breath. I vowed to myself that I would remain optimistic until we got out of this mess. I again looked to see if Marc was still there. He was. “Well. That was fun eh?”
“Yes. Let's do it again. I think that was definitely something I would like to do again.” he said sarcastically.
“Okay so now we know how to get out of a situation, so how do we get home?”
“You tell me Einstein. Do I look like I have a clue? Also, did I mention I don't like heights?”
“Okay...” I breathed quietly to myself, ignoring his sarcasm. I surveyed our surroundings. I turned around and took in everything I saw, trying to determine where we were and if there was any immediate danger. I was almost finished completing my 360 degree sweep when of course, I saw the inevitable immediate danger. Marc's eyes saw them just as mine did.
There, standing in front of us were five men. Not only were there five men, but there were five men in black suits with assault riffles. I did the first and only thing that popped into my head.
“Hello.” I said trying to sound friendly.
“You know what we want. So how about you do everyone a favor and give it to us.” The man that spoke appeared to be their leader, standing in front of the rest of them and speaking with a thick Russian accent.
“Actually, I'm not really sure what it is you want...would you mind explaining?”
“Don't play dumb. Just give us the book and we will leave, and probably not kill you!” a few of the men laughed.
“Would you give us a second please?” I decided that I needed to consult with my apparent partner in crime before making an executive decision about whether or not to give them the book we didn't have. I pulled Marc close to me and turned around to make our conversation as inaudible as possible.
“What the heck?! I don't even have a book! Who are these people?! What are we supposed to do?!”
“I know exactly what to do. We kill them. How do we do that? With my mad skills,” he said with confidence, “Long story short, I may or may not have, but definitely did take a few pre-law enforcement classes over the summer. Also, everyone in my family is in the FBI...sorry if I forgot to mention that.” he spoke as if nothing bad was even happening. He then quickly and quietly pointed to a concealed hand gun and a can of pepper spray that was hidden under his sport coat. “Close your eyes and turn around.” he said to me.
I decided it would be best to follow his advice since he seemed to know his stuff in this area of business. I turned around, closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Within a few second I heard a hiss, followed by a few screams. Then I heard five perfectly spaced gun shots. Before I knew it, Marc was hugging me from behind, as if to shield me from what had just happened. In shock, and not believing what had just happened, I turned around, only to be reassured that yes, my date had just killed five people. On our first date. Trying to console myself, I concluded that this was all indeed just a dream and no one had actually just died.
I did a quick sweep of the area just to be sure that there was no one lurking in the shadows that was about to come out and kill us. However, to my surprise, there were no shadows for lurking. In fact, the entire roof of the building was perfectly flat with nothing on it, except the one light coming out of it. For the first time, I looked around off the edge of the building, only to discover, to my horror that there was nothing. Nothing. Anywhere. I looked as hard as I could and there was nothing. It was as if we were floating. I concluded that I needed some help looking because clearly I must just be a little bit tired from our evening of strange events.
“Hey Marc! Look out there,” I said, pointing off into the nothingness. “What do you see?” he turned in all directions, looking intently into the vast and endless space.
“Nothing. There is nothing there. How are we going to get home?!” he asked frustrated.
“I don't know.” A wave of despair swept over both of us. I began to cry harder than I ever remembered crying. It was probably in part due to lack of sleep, and who knew what time it was since both of our watches and phones were either broken or dead.
After probably an hour or an hour and a half (it was really anyones guess) of solid crying, we both fell asleep. We woke up, in what we would have called the morning, but no one really knew. It was still pitch black. We talked about our lives for a long time before finally getting enough courage to try the only thing we could think of . Having decided to try even though there was nothing to throw it into or on, we were going to throw the stone.
We arranged ourselves exactly as we had before. This time, he held my left hand. I looked him directly in the face and kissed him, figuring that at this point, nothing really mattered so who really cared? He stared at me, astonished that this was happening on our first date, but then again, this wasn't exactly an ordinary first date. I prepared myself, and took the deepest, longest, most fulfilling breath I had ever taken in my life. I threw the stone. Skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...skip...skip... It went of into the endless space, never getting smaller as things usually do when they move away from you. It skipped, and skipped, and never made any progress, but continued skipping, on and on forever.
We sat and watched the rock skip. Forever and always. Time didn't exist. Distance didn't exist, and every element of reality we ever knew, was gone. So there we sat, me, Marc and a skyscraper, forever.