Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Short Stories

Story from the Nursing Home - Locked In Tight

Originally this was a pscychology project assignment, and it seemed fair for people to read and give a review, so here is something entirely new from my mind...enjoy!
(Note: This is entirely fictional and is not to be taken as real…thank you…)


(This is a transcribed version of a voice conversation between a young man and an older woman, on her feelings of being “tossed” into a nursing home. The names of these people have been withheld and switched.)


Hayden: So what were your initial feelings of being put in here? Did you feel any feelings of disownment from you own children or something greater?

Ruth: Well, I felt a little like my own children, my own flesh and blood so to speak, did disown me. It didn’t seem understandable why they “tossed” me in here. Outside of here I lived very peacefully and I took care of myself with some help from my personal assistant. All I know is that one day they came to my house and started packing my things in boxes and took me here! I was perplexed at the reason, which they still didn’t tell me.

Hayden: So you mean to tell me that your kids took you there and left you? Have they ever stopped to say hi or visit? Do they keep any contact or do they distance themselves from you entirely, like you don’t even exist anymore?

Ruth: Well, they call, but only once every month. They never stop to say hi or come to visit. I haven’t even seen my own grandchildren in so long! My feelings change from time to time. The only thing that I have to realize that I’m cared for is my friends who stop by, but that only fills part of the void of what my children have created.

Hayden: Wow, this is pretty intense and is very deeply rooted as I can tell. Have you tried to call them in any way? Have you requested to them that you would like to see your own grandchildren?

Ruth: I have indeed multiple times contacted them, but I always get their answering machine. They have sent me pictures of them, but they still never stop in.

Hayden: That’s sad, and makes me angered at the moment. If I get to your current age, please to no offense…(Ruth says something in the background…) I would be mad at my own children also! So the only company you ever have is the friends in your apartment complex?

Ruth: Yes, they are the only people who talk to me, stop by or even bring me gifts from time to time.

Hayden: So what are your overall feelings of being placed there and being “locked” in so to speak? Do you feel like your life has just been thrown away or that the only family you have any more is your friends?

Ruth: My overall feelings would be that yes, I do feel “locked” in and that these people are my only friends, but at the same time I do feel a bit of sympathy for my children also.

Hayden: Why is that?

Ruth: Because they just may not have the time or other unpredictable situations seem to creep in and destroy their plans. But it would make my entire life complete if they did come to see…(the doorbell can be heard in the background)…could you please hold for a second Hayden…(Hayden mutters something inaudible into the phone)…

(A commotion of sound can be heard in the background on the phone. Suddenly the soft voice of Ruth picks up.)

Ruth: Speak of the devil; my wishes seem to have come true…

Hayden: Is that so? I hope you like your gift Ruth

(Ruth suddenly tries to speak into the phone, but she can only hear the soft beeping of the other end.)

Dodging Bullets In The Night

(Attention: The style of writing (which has been adopted as the Tarantino **** is the style of writing in this story!)

“Oh Jesus Fucking Christ!” It’s the only thing I could speak at that exact moment in time. The bullet cackled through the crisp midnight air and pierced my femur. Pain surged from the now fully exposed and bleeding flesh wound. Blood was running, red like the burning sands on the Red Sea’s coasts. There was no Moses to part the sea at the time of my faux pas, no spreading of the seas to protect me from my silhouetted assailant. I had to shamble my way to the large Titan steel doors. My laughter echoed off the walls back to my still ringing ears. That M7 grenade that they tossed at me 20 minutes ago damaged my ears so bad; I think they may even be bleeding. As I heard my laughter, I also heard the footsteps of my assailant inch closer. The wrought iron doors in the other room creaked ominously open. I was only 8 ft. from the doors. It hadn’t dawned on me yet. Damn! It skipped across my mind that they needed the security code to unlock the set of 5 steel bolts. My mind was racing on for what felt like forever, it was interrupted by the rattling of empty bullets hitting the ground. “Any last words Mr. Masanobu?” I turned to see my assailant, hoping to get a final look before my final passing hour of life ceases to exist.
Let’s take back time that has been lost. My name is Akita Masanobu, my life and profession is in the career of something that is not the most proper job. Assassinations, it’s run in my family for decades. We are part of the Genyƍsha, an ultranationalist group, but years into being formed it became corrupted with evil and vile men. They wanted more power than what was laid before them; greed strikes the hearts of vile men. Soon after many years of trying to reverse these twisted “side effects”, my father and the rest of my family was slain. The committee saw us as vile oppressors of their new direction. I survived the massacre, and since that day I have sworn vengeance upon my family. Each day and every breathing second I take, I get closer to the truth and ten steps closer to my enemies.
My life is in shrouds of mystery and tales of old in the eyes of my friends, no one expects this to be my job. The only people who know I’m coming are those who deserve it, and as far as I can tell, fear should be creeping up their spines. I sat down in the slightly crowded diner and waited for the server. I watched as a tall slender girl of almost 25 years of age, walk towards me. “What can I get for you babe?” She spoke in a courteous voice, while stretching her arm with a menu in hands towards me. “Um, can I just get a coffee for now?” I said as I turned my face slightly to meet her gaze. “Do you want it black or decaf?” She asked beaming at me. “I’ll take it black.” She noted the creamers & sugars on the table before she turned on her heels and spun towards the counter. She came back almost instantaneously with my heated beverage. I looked up and down the menu and set it down. She left to tend to another table, which each time she walked she spun on her heels. I pulled my bag closer and opened it up. There was the large manila envelope staring back at me. At that moment I was praying to whatever God may be up right now to thank Saitou for this spectacular information. My mission and targets.
The vile oppressors who have started this righteous act of nemesis.
Boss Matsiki
Age: 48
Sex: Male
Bio: Previously former administrator to Shinsu Masanobu, he was the one who led the small party of mauraders on Akita’s family.
Under boss Sanbou
Age: 33
Sex: Female
Bio: Sanbou was originally the secretary for the Ultranationalist group, until the massacre occurred; she and Boss Matsiki have a ‘close’ relationship. (Possibly the way she got to this position in such little time.)
Administrator Takahashi
Age: 37
Sex: Male
Bio: Takahashi was (before the massacre) 3rd in command officer. Obviously Matsiki has given him more power than before.
2nd in Command Officer Nabuhashi
Age: 28
Sex: Male
Bio: (Nothing is currently known about Nabuhashi, for it seems that Matsiki has had him ‘specially’ trained.)
3rd In Command Officer Bakinshu
Age: 63
Sex: Male
Bio: Originally from the Pearl Harbor incident, he has much knowledge of history and supposedly gives Matsiki insight on information on related subjects.

This mission seemed like suicide to some, but to me, it was a revolt against the tyranny of evil men. I sat at the little diner for a while more, got up paid my bill and left. Driving around is hard, due to the massive amounts of traffic, so walking is your best bet. I need to overview the rest of these files and find their locations and begin this ‘hunt’. After 20 minutes of walking I’m in the local park, quiet, peaceful. I open the folder and review the information again. I pull out my pad and jot down notes about the places they would be and the times they do them.
Saitou said on a note in the envelope:
Destroy this evidence after you get it. After the assignment is done, destroy all evidence. Good luck and God speed Akita.
Saitou was like a sister to me, she has taken care of me ever since that day. Each year on Feb. the 14th, the day in my life that will never be shaken. Known around now as The Bloody Valentine Massacre, everybody thought it was a “suicide party”. No one knew the actual truth other than me, and no one believed me, except for Saitou. Saitou is a 27 yr. old with a life, unlike me, she has two kids and a boyfriend. She feeds me information on the committee, and she tends to me as well as her family. It seems stressful for me to think of her doing all this, but she says it is what she must do.
In return for her doing that she told me to take my revenge, but it wouldn’t give me the possible outcome I wanted. She knew well, “revenge is a dish best served cold”. Revenge was a cruel thing, but hate and murder would never bring them back. The satisfaction of having it would only fulfill the void that has taken it’s place in my body, mind, and soul.


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