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Grantonio
Grant Walker
United States, WA, Seattle

Words: 612
Access: Public
Comments: 1

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a memory

A memory (I started over a couple times)


I see inside of my self, not at just one time, but multiple times, over and over again it seems. I think this is a good situation, but do I really know? Is my undeveloped brain capable of knowing? At the time, my thoughts said 'yes'¯ to these types of questions

I wake up that morning of the day that I did not want to come. It came so suddenly it seemed. I reluctantly prayed the night before, trying everything I can do to better my chances. I dreamed that night of numbers, figures, dimensions, failure, success, it almost seemed I was dreaming in slow motion not wanting the morning to come. I awaken in a slow slumber, I stumble down stairs and begin to fuel my internal machine.

I lay there somewhat awake, in a slow dreamy state. Nothing seems real right now, but surreal almost. I lay there close to most of my family, I should be comfortable right now, but things don't seem right'¦these are hard times. Its dark right now, not even half way through the dreary night. Darkness seems to always be here when times are worse, usually the moon lighting a dim path towards a goal, or your next step; now symbolizes a type of fear rising with in me. The phone won't stop ringing, its annoying clang crashing into my ears over and over again. My mom yanks out the phone cord, I notice its dangling jack fly across the room. I gaze at the ceiling, not knowing what to think. Glancing over at my also gazing brother, I see he also awake'¦like we're waiting for something to start, to finish, to be done with finally'¦I'm tired of this. My eyes begin to slowly droop over my pupils as a sudden shrieking of metal against metal rattles my mind. Adrenaline diffuses throughout my body, my droopy eyes awake and alert ready to face the darkness, the fear. My mom is frantically trying to put the phone jack back together, my brother standing up in a gaze ' both of us watching my mom. We hear footsteps, coming closer? Its hard to tell. I feel the ethanol reach my nostrils and trigger my senses. He's here, I remember thinking. The man I only needed three letters to show my love for him.

My last image of him, days before, suddenly flashes across the lobes of my brain: hollow Budweiser cans, 30 or so, on the table in front of him, he didn't even recognize me ' I got my golf clubs and left.

'Its ok,'¯ says my mom. Pounding on the door occurs, I jump out of the bed and stand behind my brother. I'm horrified of the dark right now, day light wouldn't allow for this to happen. Mom points us towards the blackness of the night, we jump. She jumps last and falls on her side, hard. We stumble our way to neighbors, 'He's out of control,'¯ my mom explains to the neighbors. Elderly fingers lead me to the couch, I lay down in a all too familiar daze. I see a phone cord stretched out, moving with out order around the corner of the kitchen, I'm curled up on the couch, waiting for the red and blue lights to show their face, I'm so scared right now. I look up again, trying to be a good son, trying not to be scared, trying to realize what is happening ' I'm overwhelmed. Sleeplessness and the adrenaline release me to my dreams ' I dream of daylight.

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Comments  
Ninja171 Comment by: Ninja171 - 2007-04-30 16:32
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Aww what a sad story.. Make and ending though! lol
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