Journals1
Newest
Short Story #1
4 min read
The first conscious decision by an impartial person happened today. The fatal act summoned a vortex from the still afternoon sky, and the pull of four winds yanked the individual off of this mortal coil, leaving nothing but a pair of lonely shoes. The body, now nothing more than a meat filled skin sack, shot straight up through the center of the vortex, and out the other side like a bullet fired from a gun, or a spitball from a straw. The force tears the clothes off of the body and melts the skin.
Down below, witness to the event Nathaniel West stares frozen as the vortex dissipates. He sees the pair of shoes still lying on the ground and realizes that his friend is no longer with him. He looks up just in time to see the oncoming barrage of organs tumbling toward him like fruit spilled from a distant bowl. Unconsciously, he dives to the ground covering his head, an instinct passed down from a time when this sort of thing occurred more often. Kidneys, lungs, the heart and liver, and practically everything else explode upon impact with the ground, but his friend's brain falls perfectly into his unwitting outstretched hands, just like that time in little league. Nathaniel drops it immediately, just like that time in little league. He hears his father's dejected cries and flagrant insults and immediately jumps to his feet, picks up the brain, and looks around for the other players.
That's when he remembers the vortex, and searches the sky, a wave of expectation passing over him. To him, there was no rhyme or reason for his friends untimely demise, and it could happen again at any moment. To him. If there were any place it could happen again, why not right there? And if there were anything personal about it, then the odds were even greater he would be the next. Still holding the brain, he darts over the field, running at full speed toward the old, abandoned middle school. A sudden downpour of rain falls upon him, and the running Nathaniel looks again toward the sky to find it is still perfectly clear. "Space rain." he whispers.
He reaches the door and pulls on the handle. It's locked. The door into a long abandoned school is locked. He tucks his friends brain beneath his shirt, and pulls on the door handle with both hands. No change. He feels his skin starting to itch and burn., despite the cold rain splashing against it. He turns away from the door and searches for something to hide underneath., finding nothing but an empty field. Just like on his first day of middle school, he curses the lack of jungle gyms, slides, and playsets forcing him to play team sports that required interaction with the other students. The kids who liked to pull down his pants and point out the streaks in his underwear. His teachers would call his father and discuss the importance of good hygiene, and his father would afterwards beat him. Coincidentally, it was his father's violent temper that kept him at home, unemployed, and unable to afford clean underwear for his son.
As his flesh begins to melt away, Nathaniel falls to his knees and raises his shaking hand to the heavens. "Why?" he screams. The rains immediately subside, and Nathaniel surrenders himself to the mud. For a moment he believes he can hear music, and a rising sensation in his pants. With the little strength he has left, he reaches in and pulls out his cellphone.
"Hel…hello?" he speaks into it.
"THIS IS GOD, NATHANIEL."
"How did you get this number?"
Awkward silence, and then,
"I CAN'T LEAVE ANY WITNESSES, NATHANIEL".
The voice through the receiver sounds so much like his father's.
"EVERYONE HAS TO GET THERE ON THEIR OWN. NO-ONE CAN KNOW ABOUT THIS."
"But I didn't even want to be here today. This is…"
"YOU'RE RESPONSIBLE FOR ALL OF THIS."
"Responsible? How am I responsible?"
"YOU WERE THE ONE GOING ON AND ON ABOUT HOW UNFAIR LIFE WAS FOR YOU IN MIDDLE SCHOOL. YOU PROVIDED YOUR FRIEND WITH THE LAST PIECE OF THE PUZZLE HE NEEDED."
"For what?"
"ENLIGHTENMENT."
"But that's a good thing, right? And so I have to die? What about my chance at enlightenment?"
A moment of silence, then the words that absolve him of all arguments.
"YOU'RE TALKING TO ME, NATHANIEL. HOW MUCH MORE DO YOU NEED?"
The vortex surrounds him, and as it begins to pull him upward, he hears the voice say "PLEASE KICK OFF YOUR SHOES BEFORE YOU GO."
Down below, witness to the event Nathaniel West stares frozen as the vortex dissipates. He sees the pair of shoes still lying on the ground and realizes that his friend is no longer with him. He looks up just in time to see the oncoming barrage of organs tumbling toward him like fruit spilled from a distant bowl. Unconsciously, he dives to the ground covering his head, an instinct passed down from a time when this sort of thing occurred more often. Kidneys, lungs, the heart and liver, and practically everything else explode upon impact with the ground, but his friend's brain falls perfectly into his unwitting outstretched hands, just like that time in little league. Nathaniel drops it immediately, just like that time in little league. He hears his father's dejected cries and flagrant insults and immediately jumps to his feet, picks up the brain, and looks around for the other players.
That's when he remembers the vortex, and searches the sky, a wave of expectation passing over him. To him, there was no rhyme or reason for his friends untimely demise, and it could happen again at any moment. To him. If there were any place it could happen again, why not right there? And if there were anything personal about it, then the odds were even greater he would be the next. Still holding the brain, he darts over the field, running at full speed toward the old, abandoned middle school. A sudden downpour of rain falls upon him, and the running Nathaniel looks again toward the sky to find it is still perfectly clear. "Space rain." he whispers.
He reaches the door and pulls on the handle. It's locked. The door into a long abandoned school is locked. He tucks his friends brain beneath his shirt, and pulls on the door handle with both hands. No change. He feels his skin starting to itch and burn., despite the cold rain splashing against it. He turns away from the door and searches for something to hide underneath., finding nothing but an empty field. Just like on his first day of middle school, he curses the lack of jungle gyms, slides, and playsets forcing him to play team sports that required interaction with the other students. The kids who liked to pull down his pants and point out the streaks in his underwear. His teachers would call his father and discuss the importance of good hygiene, and his father would afterwards beat him. Coincidentally, it was his father's violent temper that kept him at home, unemployed, and unable to afford clean underwear for his son.
As his flesh begins to melt away, Nathaniel falls to his knees and raises his shaking hand to the heavens. "Why?" he screams. The rains immediately subside, and Nathaniel surrenders himself to the mud. For a moment he believes he can hear music, and a rising sensation in his pants. With the little strength he has left, he reaches in and pulls out his cellphone.
"Hel…hello?" he speaks into it.
"THIS IS GOD, NATHANIEL."
"How did you get this number?"
Awkward silence, and then,
"I CAN'T LEAVE ANY WITNESSES, NATHANIEL".
The voice through the receiver sounds so much like his father's.
"EVERYONE HAS TO GET THERE ON THEIR OWN. NO-ONE CAN KNOW ABOUT THIS."
"But I didn't even want to be here today. This is…"
"YOU'RE RESPONSIBLE FOR ALL OF THIS."
"Responsible? How am I responsible?"
"YOU WERE THE ONE GOING ON AND ON ABOUT HOW UNFAIR LIFE WAS FOR YOU IN MIDDLE SCHOOL. YOU PROVIDED YOUR FRIEND WITH THE LAST PIECE OF THE PUZZLE HE NEEDED."
"For what?"
"ENLIGHTENMENT."
"But that's a good thing, right? And so I have to die? What about my chance at enlightenment?"
A moment of silence, then the words that absolve him of all arguments.
"YOU'RE TALKING TO ME, NATHANIEL. HOW MUCH MORE DO YOU NEED?"
The vortex surrounds him, and as it begins to pull him upward, he hears the voice say "PLEASE KICK OFF YOUR SHOES BEFORE YOU GO."
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