A Series of Short Stories
- Written by Agun.
Some stories are sorrowful, and some are joyful with picture perfect endings. Are those endings just a coincidence? The world isn’t that perfect, and that’s fine with me, but what about those darker feelings? I like to write in that depressing mood because I feel oddly truthful with myself when I do write with that state of mind.
c: Enjoy if you wish to read them! Have a non-depressing day!
Deception
“The future that is told to you by others is just a lie; The fake future was created to mask the cruel truth.â€
Those were the lasts words that I heard from my only friend, Red, as he lay in a hospital bed. The machines around him were blinking in numerous colors, and there were tubes coming out of his body in any place imaginable. His eyes were glazed over and had a dreamy look to them as if this wasn’t reality.
After that, Red’s heart stopped dead in its tracks. The heartbeat monitor’s jagged green line was now straight and a repulsive beeping noise pierced through my ears like a lance pierces through a shield. The sound of running footsteps could be heard outside of the room and shouts of panic started to spread through the doctors. The door flew open and light flooded the room. A wave of doctors came by and looked at the monitor, but it was too late to save him.
Red’s signature black tailed parka still hung on the brass hook on the wall. Sighing, I grabbed it by the hood and looked around at the doctors. They weren’t gods, I thought, they could only do so much. It’s pointless to revive someone who gave up in the battle for life. I walked past the doctors calmly and only one dared to take his eyes off Red to give me a short glance. I muttered a soft “goodbye†and left through the door.
Monochrome
The clouds that was once white as angels had turned black and hid the once blue sky. It was as if their once pure souls had been eaten by demons. If that were reality, then it would have been a mighty feast. The brick red buildings of the past are now sparkling white and now gray under the black sky. The paved roads are all the colors in between.
The sun has not risen to add a spark of color onto this colorless land. I am shivering under my sheets in the pitch-black rooms we live in. My quarters are oddly cold and I cannot help but try to convince myself that everything is all right. I lay back and try to relax myself to no avail. The sound of rain rings in my ears and it pounds on the windows as if it wanted to come in.
The flowers on the windowsill that were once bright red and orange have wilted and died. All magnificent and prideful color in their blood seemed to be drained out by some mysterious force. The soil is dry and rocky and I pour some water into the pot, but deep in my heart, it doesn’t matter because it’s already dead. I feel guilty for not taking care of it, but I slide that thought away from my mind.
The shining arc of a helicopter light can be seen on the roads. The sound of the blades cutting the air can be heard through the gray concrete walls. I cross my fingers and pray that I’m not the one being chased. I leap back into bed and reflect on my life. I’m a thief and I can’t erase the sins that have been bestowed on me.
“I can’t change the history but I can change the future, can’t I?†I ask myself.
I shake my head I can’t deceive myself. I’m such a fool. I can only see my world through one hue, that one cruel hue. My world is in monochrome.
Pride
The sterling silver buildings stand firmly on the concrete ground. Their light drowns out the stars that try to light up the dark, expansive sky above my head. The quiet rumbling of a train echoes through town. A flash of white catches my eye and I see what’s left of the train’s passing - smoke.
The tall highways that stand on concrete pillars that circle the buildings cast a soft blue light on the city. You can hear the sound of cars and their tires scratching against the paved road. The streetlights seem like lanterns when I am this far away. The occasional passerby walks on the sidewalk, but this expansive land is mainly empty at night.
I back inside my house where I walk into the one-roomed space. It’s dark and I stumble over my feet until I can flip a light switch. I walk up the stairs and jump out on slightly slanted roof. The shingles have been chilled in the night wind as if the whole world was a freezer. I lay on the roof and I listen. Barely any sound comes through the door. Barely any movement can be seen. Barely any feelings fly through hearts in this city that I live in.
I stare outside as the cool breeze dances around me. I pat my pocket for my protective charm, a gun. Where have all the true feelings of love and hatred gone?
“Perhaps they disappeared in night wind,†I mutter to myself as I shiver as the wind blows.
I just shrug and assume those feelings were just a price that we as a species paid for technology, but we still haven’t given up our pride.
~Agun, The Aspiring Writer.