Christmas Vacation

It's almost here. You can almost hear it. See it. Taste it. Feel it. Live it. That's right.

Christmas is nine days away.

And with that comes a beautiful, extraordinary thing described often as, "Christmas Break." For some unlucky few, none will ever experience such a paradise. For others, this small relief lasts only a day or week. But for most, and for me, Christmas Break is a glimpse of what heaven on Earth would be like, lasting an entire 14 days.

So what will you do?

Vacation in the Bahamas? Climb Mt. Everest? Meander through the streets of Italy?

Or stay home, watch T.V. all day, lie on your couch, think about what other people are doing, eat ice cream, order pizza, wear the same clothes for the next two weeks, try to hang out with your friends only to find out that you can't because most of them are in France eating crepes in the Eiffel Tower or are eating dumplings as they breeze along the Great Wall of China?

Do something special. Don't just do the plain old boring things that you've done every single Christmas.

If you've already visited France, go tour England! If you've already blazed through the wild Amazon, relax in Hawaii! And if you've already louched around at home for the several past Christmas', go adventuring someplace else!

It can be several blocks down your street, 30 minutes bus drive away, or 3,000 miles distant from your home place; it doesn't matter, just go, have fun, and do something special.

Now some people may laugh,"Haha. That's funny. I wish I could do that except I don't have the time/money/guts/money/experience/money/money/money. I would do that every day if only I had the time/money/guts/money/experience/money/money/money."

To these people, I must reply,"You don't need any of that to vacation outside your comfort zone, certainly not money! If out of time, then I'm sorry that you can't do the things you love. But no one needs money to have an adventure. Just do it!"

Christmas is still nine days away. That's plenty of time to plan out your next escapade. Go hear it. See it. Taste it. Feel it. Live it. That's right.

Go have some fun!

T_L

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The Art of Fangirling

THE ART OF FANGIRLING

For the 64-ish million people using Tumblr, we know what fandoms are. Simply put, they’re cult-like obsessions that wreck your life with all of the deliciously handsome men and badass girls that you could go gay for. Heck they could all of your feels with one wink or sultry slip of the tongue. There are fanfictions, fanwars, and fanart. And they all consume your life until the only thing you’re left with is a tissue box and your own sobbing self. In the fangirl/fanboy world, there isn’t even such a word as sleep (although there is plenty of food). For many of us, our esoteric behavior puzzles our friends and family. This is the article to refer to when your only emotion is ASDFGHJKL and your parents demand to know why you’re acting like you’re on drugs.

First off, one must understand a fangirl. For the most part, fangirls are creatures of the dark who feed off of fanart and fanfics (with the occasional supplement of some crappy junk food), who seem to be into self-inflicted pain. After all, most Tumblring and “asdfghjkl-ing” seems to be done in the wee hours of the morning, when everything is as black as the bottom of porta-potties. Our lives are, sadly, diminished enough to be centered around posts about our fandoms. And then we always watch movies and T.V.’s with our favorite celebs. Funnily, the same celebs seem to have a penchant for playing angsty/depressed/misunderstood/villainous/creepy/heartbroken characters that make us squee, scream, and sob at the same time. It’s an emotional, roller-coaster mess that requires copious amounts of tissues. Fangirls have been known to become mentally unstable and run around the house in a fit during these T.V. shows/movies as well, when it all becomes too much. We love to watch our favorites act, but the movies just slay us. We physically cannot go on because of the feels. It’s a vicious circle. And then we obsess over their laugh, smile, even fingernails…but we really know, inside, that our chances of meeting them, much less dating them, are as likely as pigeons deciding to poop on something besides humans. My theory is that since most fangirls are single, godforsaken people forced to live on Oreos and cat food, they project their romantic fantasies into their fandoms. All the things fangirls like about a fandom, all the fanfiction and fanart they read are the manifestations of their loneliness- what happens in these books and tv shows and movies are what these fangirls dream of. The only problem with my theory is that I can’t figure out if being in a fandom makes a person lonely or a person is in a fandom because they’re lonely.

                Furthermore, a person could easily get lost in a fangirl discussion if they didn’t know the lingo. Here are some must know words:

-SHIP: verb. To desperately, obsessively, and unhealthily believe and endorse a romantic pairing. The word ship comes from the word relationship. Variations include shipping (v.) and shipper (n. a person who ships) EX: I ship Johnlock; Sherlock and John should obviously get married and have beautiful babies together!

-asdfghjkl:  interjection. An indescribable emotion of any kind. EX: OH MY CRUMPETS I JUST MET JAMES MCAVOY ASDFGHJL WHAT IS AIR I CANT EVEN WHAT IS ENGRISH AAAAAAAAA DEAD DEAD DEAD DYING HELP

-OTP: noun. An acronym for “One True Pairing”. This would be your favorite people together in a romantic relationship. EX: “STARK SPANGLED BANNER IS MY OTP!” yelled the rabid fangirl, foaming at the mouth. She had not slept in three days and had obsessively reblogged everything Tony/Steve related from Tumblr.

-fanfiction/fanfic: noun. A story written by fans, using characters from their fandoms. Usually written in third person. May include genres such as smut and fluff. More likely than not to be slash.  EX: I read the most heartbreaking, horrible, spirit-crushing fanfiction a year ago! YES IT WAS A YEAR AGO TO THE DATE EXACTLY OF COURSE I STILL REMEMBER IT IT WAS THE MOST TRAUMATIZING THING TO HAPPEN TO ME IN MY LIFE OH MY GOD ALL THE DEAN/CAS FEELS
note: can be abbreviated to fanfic of simply fic

-slash: noun. Can be used in place of yaoi or yuri. Abbreviated with, yes, a “/ “ A type of fanfiction or word used to denote something of a homosexual sort. EX: I mean seriously slash is more common than straight stuff I MEAN LOOK AT TUMBLR

-fanart: noun. Any form of art that uses characters from a fandom, drawn by fans. EX: Oh god most fanart I see is SO SMUTTY nothtatI’mcomplaining. Oh wait, look! This Merthur fanart! THE FLUFF.  I CAN’T

-fandom: noun. A group of people with an “unhealthy” obsession for certain T.V. shows, books, movies, etc who may or may not be emotionally compromised and in need of immediate psychiatric help. EX: OMG GUYS I JUST WATCHED BATMAN IS IT TOO LATE TO JOIN THE FANDOM ASDFGHJKL

-canon: adj. Another word for official; mostly used in fanfictions to distinguish made up fan writing from actual story lines. EX: This Avengers fanfic is horrible; the twat that wrote this can’t even distinguish her own trash from the canon storyline. Loki is definitely not married to a person named Lola! OR: OMG OMG OMG MY OTP JUST WENT CANON THERE IS A GOD

-feels: noun. Emotions on steroids. They make you feel like vomiting and hugging and eating and hysterically crying and screaming and jumping for joy all at once. Not necessarily in that order. EX: OH MY GOD OH MY GOD ALL THE FEELS I CAN’T WATCH ATONEMENT THIS IS TOO MUCH BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH AND JAMES MCAVOY AND SO SAD NO

There are many more words in the vocabulary of the average fangirl, but of course there’s just too many.  I’m terribly sorry. But anyway, now that you know a bit of the vast lexicon of words fangirls use, it’s time to move on to some deeper stuff.

Fangirlism is considered by many to be a disease. These people go on Tumblr anywhere from three to 24 hours a day, depending on how obsessed they are. They may not sleep at all in general. How to detect a fangirl: a pale pallor from lack of sun; unhealthy aura about them from too much junk food; inability to talk properly or articulate anything’ social distress; drool stains on shirt from overexposure to certain celebrities; blinks a lot in bright sun or sun at all for that matter. Is there any cure for this? No. HAHAAAAA. Is there any way to prevent this? Sure, become a monk.

                 Now, how do you fangirl? Good question. Each of us has our own special way. It can be shown through appreciative fanart, fanfiction, gif sets, you name it. For the most part, however, fangirling is a cocktail of masochism, sadism, mind in the gutter thinking, and eccentricities. Whenever you conduct an in depth analysis of something in the fandom, be sure to make it horribly gut-wrenching and emotional.  And use Comic-Sans. For everything. Use it to spread your bread and butter. Use it as a soothing herbal remedy. Use it as a laxative. But be sure, of course, to use it.

Need some jump start tips to get you started in a fandom? No problem! I’ve got ALL (most) of them listed right here for you!

MERLIN FANDOM: Currently, now is a very bad time to join. All is chaos and everything hurts. It’s something like an exploding mess of baby hippos and nothing to feed them with except tuna fish sandwiches. The last series, series 5, is ending. On Christmas. Yes we don’t want Christmas time to come this year either, we’re perfectly happy with the cold weather and no holiday to enjoy it with. IT’LL BE LIKE NARNIA. Biggest OTP’S? Merthur/Brolin of course! Can’t you just taste the homoerotic tension?? There’s also Mergana, Arwen (no not the elf in LOTR-oh god I’m such a nerd Chuck help me), and Gwaine/Percy.  Although this fandom isn’t as big as the others, you’ll find it on must (fangirl-oriented) tumblr blogs. Also, lots of very steamy fanfiction including “Arthur discovering the magic”. Big, feels killing fanfic? “ Looking at You looking at Me” http://munchinglunch.livejournal.com/25822.html

KPOP FANDOM: possibly the craziest and most obsessed. Obsessed with all things Korean, ever. Has really awesome chibi fanart. Probably also has the most straight ships. Except when it comes to EXO.  Some fans may tend to get very intrusive and are generally considered to be the most stalkerish. (Hahaha, sending menstrual blood to celebrities? OH WAIT YOU’RE SERIOUS OKAY) Guys tend to be very effeminate looking and often wear impossibly skinny clothing, because they’re about the size of sticks. Very, very skinny. There’s also a major use of guyliner. Strange, claustrophobic MV’s filmed in small green screened rooms may scare off potential fans. These MV’s can vary from black and shiny and emo to bright and really weird and neon-y. Fangirls often tend to speak in Korglish. (Ahnyong! Saranghae! Nomu kwiyeowo! Oppa! Unni! Dongsaeng! Hajima! Kajima! Are some commonly used words.) The spirit animal of this fandom could be either a fuzzy panda or a hyperactive chirpy bird. Famous fanfics? Uh…I only know “Absolute Chanyeol”. YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN DUDESSS!

                SHERLOCK FANDOM: Now is a bad time to join this fandom also. Series three might start filming in August of next year, and may be released in January of 2014. QUOI?! Indeed. Also, Sherlock jumped off a building, John is in therapy (because he thinks Sherlock is dead) and our homicide-investigating couple is on hiatus. There’s a lot of fanfic too (seeing as they have all this time), and for every episode there is, there’s 4,000 fanfics. Kinda crazy. You should see what they do with their gifs. Biggest OTP’s? JOHNLOCK ALL THE WAY! And of course Sheriarty, Mormor, and John/Moriarty. (And even if you aren’t a fan of bad guys, you will be when you watch Sherlock. That accent, that voice- yum. Basically yum. ) It’s easy to spot people in this fandom- just find the girl staring at building ledges and high skyscrapers. They’re probably also hysterical and wearing a black trench coat with a blue scarf. Maybe a jumper. Fanfic that will require a trip to Costco for some tissues? Alone on the Water http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6914974/1/Alone_On_the_Water

SUPERNATURAL FANDOM: The most masochistic. Loves to cry. All the time. Intentionally goes out of its way to hurt other people part of the fandom. If an episode of SPN isn’t sad, then it’s on crack. Is always making head canons about horrible, horrible, sad things. Plenty of gay fanart. May carry around packets of salt and eat copious amounts of pie. And coo over mooses. (What’s the plural of moose anyway? Meese? Like, goose to geese? I dunno) From the outside, the Supernatural fandom may look like a bunch of devil worshippers. And they have no good explanation for that. Biggest OTP’s? DESTIEL AND WINCEST! Oops and Mishalecki. Can’t forget that. To find Hunters at a place near you, simply scream, “SAM! SAMMY!” in a deep, gruff, growly voice. Guaranteed success. Terrifically awful life ruining fic? Twist and Shout. http://archiveofourown.org/works/537876/chapters/955176
note: Although I am trying to find time to read these other famous fanfics, this is the only one I’ve gotten to so far. GOD IT’S HORRIBLE I CRY EVERY TIME BE SURE TO HAVE A PILLOW TO MUFFLE YOUR CHOKED SOBS

DOCTOR WHO FANDOM: They hate Steven Moffat. And people jumping off of buildings (but the same can be said for the Sherlock fandom). May write in Circular Gallifreyan and scream, “EXTERMINATE!” at people they hate. Is deathly scared of statues, especially angel statues. Cannot watch “Doomsday” or “Journey’s End” or “The Angels Take Manhattan”. If hungry, feed them fish fingers and custard. Or a banana. But definitely not a pear. Has some seriously awesome Tenth cosplays and is often in tears because of reasons or laughing hysterically at the doctor’s antics. May treat blue boxes like people.  Is quite a cute and devoted, tight-knit fandom…MADE OF WARRIORS! OTP’s?  TenthxRose, AmyxRory, EleventhxAmy, EleventhxRory, and Captain Jack HarknessxEverything. Famous fanfics? Well…none that I can think of. (I may be mistaken)

TEEN WOLF FANDOM: …I’m so sorry. Sterek?? That’s the extent of my knowledge L GOOD LUCK! Oh WAIT. "Slipping Away"? http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8447714/1/Slipping-Away
Of course, there are many more fandoms. Of which I am much too exhausted to research. Perhaps I'll add them if you'd like??

 Any questions? Message me! And good luck with your fangirling quest! May horrible feels plague you the rest of your life J

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CLICK (A Drama) CHAPTER EIGHT

I didn’t even care. Should that worry me? I wasn’t- I don’t even- I dunno. I was a killer and that didn’t bother me at all. I bet that guy was some sick pervert who did all sorts of sick, deranged stuff to girls. He had it coming. Why do people think they can do that? Get away with stuff?

Although, admittedly, I wasn’t one to talk either. Chrissake, I had killed someone. I probably wasn’t going to get away with that. But in my own messed up way, I had created some sort of justice. It felt right to me.

But I couldn’t just play God like that! God, geez, what was wrong with me?!

But oh yes, yes, it felt good. I realized, no, this wasn’t justice, this was revenge. I was subjugated by my own emotions to these criminals’ own level- And I reveled in it.

“OHHH JEFFY BOY!” JESUS CHRIST WHAT WAS THAT. Some screechy girlified voice snapped me out of my thinking.

Was that...Kent? How did he know I was here? I looked around my surroundings. Well, I was back in front the of the dorm complex. Oh. And I was bloody. This was going to be fun to explain...

“Kent?”
“THE ONE AND ONLLLYYY! Need a ride huggy muffles?” he asked, poking his head out the window.“Yeah, that’d be n-is that Wendy in the car with you?!”

“Yeah. Problem?” “You can talk to me like I’m here Geoffrey,” Wendy said mildly.

“I thought we made a pact to never bring girls home in the car!”

“Yeah, but Kat needed a girl buddy with her! We couldn’t just drive her home with just us guys, she might think we’re crazy kidnappers!”

I sighed. “And why exactly is Kat in our car?”

“My car. And because we’re going to go to the park!”

“The heck Kent? It’s like, three in the morning.”
“Geoffrey, we’re young, the night is beautiful, why not?”
Shrug. Couldn’t argue with him there. I hopped into the car.
Wendy already occupied the shotgun, and unfortunately for all of us in the car, Kent was driving, so I sat in the back next to a sleeping Kat.
“Jeffy boy, why are you so bloody?” Wendy asked, nonchalantly.I froze, nervous, puke-inducing anxiety and fear trickling down my spine. I was hoping it was too dark too notice...oh no. Great. Ohhhh, god. GOD. No no no no no... “It’s tomato juice,” I lied, smoothing over the small quivers in my voice. Thank god no one could see my twitching hands. I really felt like I was about to hurl. Despite my best efforts, sweat started trickling down my face. I curled in, pressing my knees against my chest so hard that I could barely manage a breath and I felt horribly miserably but I couldn’t stop I couldn’t loosen up I was crammed into this position like my life depended on it I- “Since when have you been drinking tomato juice??” Kent questioned incredulously, voice a whole pitch higher. “Ouch, bro, who doesn’t? I’m trying to be healthy!” I said. Was I speaking too quickly? Did I sound too fake? Was this even believable?! Bloody did anyone notice my voice CRACKING?

Bloody bugger. This was how it was going to go down wasn’t it. I was going to get found out, reported, and trucked off to jail. Was it that bad? Maybe jail was okay. Just another housing facilitiy, right? Didn’t I always complain life now was too boring and I needed a change? Yeah. Still couldn’t calm down though.

“BUT JAIL DEPRIVES YOU OF YOUR FREEDOM STUPID! “ some part of me mentally screamed. Oh god. yeah. That was right. I had hit freaking rock bottom.
“So what, are you one of those elitist douchesnozzles who pop their collars and brag about their gym memberships and girly mineral water now? Organic health fanatics,” snorted Kent.

Wendy clucked her tongue. “Look who’s talking gay boy! You eat fat free Greek yogurt because you complain you have a droopy butt!”

“Yeah, but it works, doesn’t it? You love my butt!”
“Not as much as I love food. Sorry Kent, you’re replaceable.”

“WHAT?! I bet food doesn’t tell you that you look beautiful!”

“Kent...you don’t either.”

My numbed fear slowly died down. My heart rate started to return to normal. Thank god for couple fights. I calmed down while Kent squawked about his undying adoration for Wendy.

After they had quieted down, I added, “Your butt is still droopy though. Luckily for me tomato juice prevents that.”

Wendy appreciated the joke, because she started laughing. Kent, on the other hand, cleared his throat loudly and stopped the car, got out, and slammed the door shut.

“I think you hurt Kent’s feelings,” Wendy whispered, still laughing,

“ I HEARD THAT WENDY BUT NO, I’M NOT HURT. WE’RE AT THE PARK LOSERS SO GET OUT OF THE CAR!” he yelled from outside.
“DID YOU JUST CALL ME A LOSER? HARK WHO’S TALKING, MR. I HAVE A DROOPY TUSHY!”
“YOU WILL NEVER LET THAT GO, WILL YOU? AND WHO THE HECK SAYS ‘TUSHY’ ANYMORE?? ARE YOU 80?! BECAUSE THAT HAIR STYLE SURE IS!”
“YOU STAY RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE, KENT, RIGHT THERE, BECAUSE I’M GOING TO BEAT THE SNOT OUT OF YOU!”

I watched as Wendy shoved open the door, spring-boarded off the seat, and launched herself at Kent, slamming the door shut behind her.

“GET A GIRLFRIEND THEY SAID! IT’LL BE FUN THEY SAID! SHE WON’T BE VIOLENT THEY SAID!” I heard Kent scream, punctured by a bunch of “OW”s and “MOTHER OF GOD”s.

Kat stirred behind me.

“Wuzzgoingyon?”

“We’re at the park. Kent did tell you he was taking you to a park, right?”

“Mmmm, yeah yeah. Sure. I really don’t know. I just uh, need some fresh air.”

I nodded and got out of the car; Kat followed suit.

The park was pretty dark. After all, it was something like 1 in the morning. Pretty quiet too. It was in a wierd place-there weren’t any homes or neighboorhoods near by. Anywhere within a two mile radiues of the place was pretty empty. Nothing but broken beer bottles, dead grass, and chain link fences. The park itself wasn’t much. A scratched up plastic slide that probably smelled like vomit, a creaky swing set rusted over, some monkey bars...it was mostly grass. A bit dead, you know, from over watering, but still...grass.

We weren’t far away enough not to get a whiff of the street vendors. They were still out, doing whatever it was that they did. Deep fried food, coconut, garlic, something spicy, and uhm...cotton candy? And that scent fresh air always smells like, but you can’t quite place.

Kent already had a boombox set up.

“Kent, you still have a boombox? Who even still owns a boombox??” Kat said. She scrunched her nose in dislike. “So bulky.”

Kent shushed her. “Boomboxes are an aquired taste for the sophisticated, my dear,” he said airily, dismissing her comment with a wave of his hand.

“Why did you bring a boombox man? Aren’t you gonna, y’know, play on the swing set or something? Like the little girl you are?” I smirked.

“Of course, Jeffy boy. I will. Eventually. But it’s a nice August night, we’ve got nothing to worry about, and I want to relax with some music. Now shut up and listen to some!” He flipped the boom box on, tuning it to a radio station.

The boombox crackled to life. Some song with a weird, heavy drum beat and a voice akin to a goat yodel rang out of the speakers.

“Ooh, Rihanna!” Kat squealed, starting to sing along and sway to the beat.

Kent had his hands clamped over his ears. “Is that what they call crap now day? Kids !”

“Oh god THAT IS HIDEOUS someone shut it OFF!” Wendy moaned, gagging. She made a move to turn off the radio. “You still have that mixed tape in there, right??” she asked Kent. She gesticulated at the boombox.

“Of course I do!” he said.

“You guys have a tape? Your boombox plays stapes??” I asked, incredulous.

“ALL GOOD BOOMBOXES PLAY TAPES, YOU UNCULTURED SWINE!” Kent screamed, pulling on his hair and jumping up and down. He was absolutely ridiculous. “THE REAL QUESTION HERE IS WHY DON’T YOU  HAVE A TAPE AND A BOOMBOX THAT PLAYS THEM! STOP QUESTIONING MY LIFESTYLE GUYS!”

I raised my eyebrows, but backed down all the same.

Wendy started playing the tape as Kat’s singing died down (“Shine like a diamond, shine like a …” died away into the night. Not that it was bad singing anyway-it just wasn’t great.) A motown-y, guitar melody started flowing into the air.

Kat made a noise of distaste. “Kent, what is this??”

Kent rolled his eyes. “JUST LISTEN, WILL YOU ALL??”

“People say I’m the life of the party because I tell a joke or two...”

Wendy brightened up. “Tracks of my Tears!”

Kat looked at Wendy, concerned. “Need a tissue?”

I stuck out my tongue. “No, that’s the name of the song, genius,”

“How am I s’posed to know that? Geez, you guys are tough! Not everyone listens to these crumbly old hippy songs!”

“THEY. ARE NOT. CRUMBLY !!”  Ah, yes. If the blaring music didn’t wake up everyone within a ten mile radius, then the agonized shrieks of Kent’s pain would.

Eventually, the ringing in my ears stopped. Wendy was placidly picking at flowers in the ground, weaving them into a necklace. Kat was brooding on the swings. Kent...Kent was dancing with himself.

The voices of The Miracles died away, and were replaced a drum roll. An offbeat guitar strummed out a few notes, before “Something in the way she moves...”  sank into the dark. A shriek reverberated through the air. Our heads all swiveled towards the source in alarm: Kent. “WHAT?” he squawked, cheeks flushed. He was obviously happy. “This is my favorite song!” He closed his eyes, turned his face toward the sky, and hummed along. “C’mere Wendy, we’re dancing!” Kat looked bemused. “Uh, isn’t this song in The Perks of Being a Wallflower?” “I LIKED THIS SONG WAY BEFORE CHARLIE, HONEY. WAAAAAAY BEFORREEEE!” Kat shrugged her shoulders. “Whatever,” I heard her mutter. “Let’s dance too, Geoffrey,” I licked my lips. “I don’t dance.” “Sure you don’t!” she said, and grabbed my hand. I inwardly groaned. I really didn’t know how to dance. I never learned! My pride was going to suffer a serious blow. “No, Kat, really-” “Stop protesting! You’re doing fine!” I made a sour face. “I stepped on your foot.” “I’ve had worse.” “Oh, reaaaally?” I said, more of a sarcastic uh-huh, sure you did then a question. “Yeah. Denny-that’s what I used to call Aiden- accidently dropped a knife on my foot. He apologized of course, though,” she laughed it off. The beat was very slow. We were slow dancing. “He really apologized a lot. Profusely! I guess he was traumatized to have hurt me or something.” she smiled. Her breath hitched.


That’s what triggered the flashback.  
He was traumatized to have hurt me Suddenly, I wasn’t in Kat’s arms, in the warm, dark park, listening to The Beatles.
Breathe. Breathe man.  She’s probably okay.  She must be okay. A  scream. It cleaved the air.   It came from the little tiny hut. The tiny little hut where I knew, for a fact, Daphne was in. “DAPHNE!  DAPHNE! HOLD ON I’M COMING-” was all I remembered screaming, over and over.  I wacked the foliage out of my path. It was so hot. The foliage wacked back. Please, please, let her be okay, let her be okay... I kicked down the door. Didn’t need much help falling over anyway.   I didn’t see Daphne. Maybe she’s not here. Maybe that wasn’t her screaming. Relief.  I was so worried-   Then I saw her head. Lolling.  Pale face in gross contrast with the glistening, claret red blood rolling down her face, like tears. Numb.  Couldn’t move.  What- What was - NO It seemed like  I could’ve lived a dozen horribly long, drawn out lives , but that wouldn’t even begin to compare with the time that passed, like  thick sticky syrup,  from when I started to move a little. Just a slight movement of my head. I saw Anjali holding her. A  feral beast. That was the thing  clawing me inside out.  A blind rage.   “NO!”  I screamed, taking out a gun, pulling the trigger, watching Anjali futilely try to shield  herself-

I gasped, my mind already so much clearer. I remembered now. Some of it anyway. I pushed Kat away. “Hey!-” “I’ve got to go.” I was a murderer. What was I doing, listening to The Beatles, dancing with a girl? Oh, it made so much sense. Why I didn’t like Anjali. Bloody, foul, disgusting- Daphne...I still didn’t know who Daphne was. But from what I just remembered... there wasn’t much left to imagine. Had I been dating her? I was guessing so. I remember loving her. So much. Anjali took that away. So I took her away too. Took her life away. I couldn’t quite remember the details. God, it was so frustrating. Jesus freaking christ.

But more importantly...

How did she come back?

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Christmas

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, the most wonderful time of the year.

It doesn't matter that we just had Thanksgiving, Black Friday and now Cyber Monday.
In fact, some people are doing a Giving Tuesday tomorrow, which doesn't make sense since we just had a Thanksgiving.

But it also doesn't make sense that people are already hanging their incredible, bright Christmas lights before December has even come! Intricate and complex lights swirl and decorate each and every imaginable item that sits on my neighbor's front lawn. Even that huge rock was adorned with some pink fuzzy lights to complement its gray exterior. And even worse, their seems to be some sort of "Christmas" light competition going on my street, wherein every house must strive to outdo the others in their attempts at an unnatural decorative light hanging. What happened to the time when it was acceptable to merely put up some nice, warm lights around the house?


T_L

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Comic for November 4th, 2012

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CLICK (A Drama) CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FOUR

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Geoffrey POV

“You’re sleeping in your cereal bowl agaaaaiin” sang Kent. He really did sing when he said that. He sounded like a bird. A bird getting tarred, that is.

For someone so smart like Kent, he could be really oblivious at times. He did find me sleeping out on the street, slumped against a mailbox. (He took pictures and posted them on Facebook. Idiot) Of course I was going to fall asleep at this ungodly hour! It was only 11:45 in the morning!

I looked blearily at Kent. “It tastes better this way,” and I dunked my face back into my Cheerios. Kent sighed and said, “You have a party to go to, you know. You were mumbling about it to me on the walk home from the mailbox. Maybe you should start getting ready?”

“Do I look like a girl? Who gets ready at 12:00 to go to a party like nine hours before?!” “Me. That’s why I’m so good looking and you’re not, my little cabbage!” Kent was squealing. I swear, he really was a girl. He even gave me a back hug before hopping away.

Alas, my peace and quiet was short lived, because Kent came back into the kitchen holding up two pairs of jeans.
“Jeffy jeff! Which pair of jeanie-jeans?! The slim fit black ones would look really good on your figure, but super tight blue skinny jeans are so cute right now! And they pretty much go with anything, so no worries about matching there. But if you do chose the black ones, make sure to wear it with a black v-neck or something, girls LOVE it. But I can also really picture you with a trenchcoat with the blue jeans, I’m not sure-”

I cut him off right there. No need to let him get into his inner diva zone. God forbid that. I put my cereal bowl in the sink and grabbed the black jeans and made a beeline for the bedroom.

...But of course Kent followed me in and flopped on the bed. “We’re gonna have to do something about your hair, and maybe even some waxing! And then we could go shopping and get some lunch together, and-” 

“OKAY KENT THAT’S FINE,” I yelled at him. Didn’t want the poor guy to have a spazz attack-he gets uh, excited easily.I pulled on a shirt after getting on the jeans. I didn’t brush my hair, which upset Kent. But at least I brushed my teeth. 

We hopped into Kent’s car-I owned only a bike- but he let me drive. Actually, I made him let me. The guy really could not drive for his life. Last time he drove, I think he managed to drive through one of our neighbour’s house...and land on the roof. Don’t ask me how, I haven’t quite figured it out myself. Idiot. TOTALLY helpless.

Suddenly, Kent squished his face against the car window slammed his palms onto the pane and screamed, “GEOOOOFFREEEYYY! BLOW OUT SALE! OH MY GOD WE JUST-WE HAVE TO, OKAY?!”

“No. Oh my god, no.”
“Oh, you are so unfun. Fine. Drive me over to Wendy’s, will you?”
“Excuse me? WHO IS WENDY?"

Kent looked at me, annoyed. “She’s my girlfriend, stupid!”
“YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND SINCE WHEN-”
“Since the last couple of mo~oooonths....” he sighed.

I rolled my eyes, but I drove him over anyway. Poor Wendy.

After I dropped Kent off, I looked for something to do. I still had about 5 hours to kill, and that was after eating some lunch. The library, I guess?... There was a really big one near where I was. Kent said it was “awesome”. Apparently the library attracts some “really cute squirrels”. Whatever.

After the encounter with Anjali this morning, I really felt like I knew her. If I were in a movie, I probably would know her. She would probably be my long lost fiance or something and then we both got amnesia and we had some “~thwarted love~” and blah blah blah. But I mean, this wasn’t a movie. This was real life. But what if?...Weird. Well, libraries were for research, right? It wouldn’t hurt just to humor the thought.

...Aaaaand, as soon as I got there, I felt like an idiot. What was a silly idea like mine doing in such a serious, somber place? The library was absolutelyly massive. It wasn’t all new and shiny and sparkly. Haha, nooo. It was gloomy. It was stuffy. It was dark. And I loved it. It had this grandiose feeling and it was so...old fashioned. Sure, you could almost smell the denture cream and prunes, but I don’t think anyone had died there. Yet.

I walked up to the front desk. Alas, there was no stern, butthurt old woman. But there was a highly obnoxious looking teenager. She had stringy light brown hair and rectangular, bright red glasses. Which didn’t necessarily make her obnoxious seeming. But the loud laughing and texting sure did.

“Hi...could you tell me if you keep records of the paper here?”

Surprisingly, she was nice. “Hm? Oh yeah, we do! How far back are you looking for though? We only have back up to the last ten years, the rest got eaten by moths or something. Sorry!”  

I shrugged. Ten years, yeah I could start there. “May I have a look at them please?”

“Mhm, no prob! Follow me,” she said, flouncing away.

The girl led me to a thick door behind the front desk, into a hallway (which, unlike the rest of the library, was white with some faint tinges of blue green from the lights. It almost had a ..detached, clinical feel to it) and stopped in front of a door on the left.She swung inside and a moment later reappeared with about three boxes of (presumably) newspapers.

“Oh geez, you’re gonna fall over let me help you with that,” I said, stooping down to pick up the boxes.

“Nah, it’s fine I got thi-NOPE NOPE NOPE MAN GOING DOWN MAN GOING DOWNNNNNNN!” and she toppled over. Sigh. There were a lot of newspapers to put back in order...I picked some up and shuffled them back in order, placing them back in the boxes.

“Geez, I’m so clumsy, I’m sorry. Like I trip a lot and stuff it’s sooo embarrassing. Aaaah!” she cringed, laughing.

I wasn’t really listening. “Right,”

It took awhile, but finally, all the papers were stuffed back into storage. The girl brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“So uhm...thanks for helping me-?”

“Oh. It’s Geoffrey.”

“Well, thanks Geoffrey! It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Jessica. Any chance I could maybe see you again?”

I blinked and stared. After clearing my throat I said, “I-I don’t think that’s legal.” And I rushed off, leaving her with the boxes. Maybe not the smoothest parting, but I was not expecting that. I felt a bit bad. Poor kid.

I checked my watch. Only half an hour had gone by. And I was still perplexed (and maybe frustrated) because I couldn't figure out how exactly I felt like I knew Anjali

Maybe I should ask a doctor to check out my head? Meh. Nah. Too expensive. 
Well, looks like I’ll be paying Anj a visit.
It wasn’t until I got back into the car that it occurred to me that I had no idea where she lived. And I already came off as a stalker, why keep the impression?
...But ooh, this was gonna be good. I could almost picture what her face would look like when I showed up unannounced. Come to think of it, I could probably find her address via the workplace. Yeah, the boss sent out a text message with everyone’s phone number, email, and address.
Everyone’s, that is, except Anjali’s. Figures. I sighed. I would just have to see her at the party. 
So I found myself in the park, feeding pidgeons. I bought some bread from the grocery store a block down from the library. It was on sale because it was stale. The city has such a nice park. They’re all old; the newest one was built at least twenty years ago. Some of them are cleaner than others. But I love them all the same. They all seem to have a background. Cryptic carvings on trees, old park benches, cracked sidewalks...I love it. And that’s how I spent the rest of the afternoon. Feeding pigeons. The sky wasn’t blue (it was more like a white gray) it was a bit damp (whatever) and the park was a bit more depressed looking than usual. All the same. All the same...

“GEOFFREY! KAT, KAT! LOOK WHO’S HERE!” 

The face of Callie Whitworth turned about three shades redder. 
“Um, I mean, hi! Come in! Do you want something to drink?”
“Uhmm...”
I glanced behind the door left ajar. The party wasn’t like one of those super loud ones in the movies, where everyone gets drunk or is getting laid in the weirdest, most uncomfortable spots. It was...an Asian party. And I wasn’t Asian...
I think I saw some people playing DDR. And then there was a clique of some really gossipy girls, and uhm...some really nerdy guys. They were all crowded around a computer playing Starcraft.
“Nice, uh, party,” I said lamely, gesticulating behind her. 
“Hm? Oh yeah, thanks! Hurry up, get in, you’re gonna get cold!”
“Right.” I stepped in. Anj popped up.
“Hey, Cal, there’s a bunch of guys on the phone insisting that you stole their boxers,” she commented, raising an eyebrow.
“WHAT?! That is just CREEPY! HOW?! That was sooo not me, it was all Francesca’s idea!” Cal whined, exasperated. She went off to answer the phone. Girls are so weird...
“Yeah, too many admirers Cal,” Anjali grinned. “Hey Geoffrey!”
Hm? “Oh. Hey Anj.” 
“How are you?”
I shrugged. “Tired.”
“Yeah? Maybe you should see a doctor.”
“Oh, sure, I guess.”
“Seriously! You look awful!”
Before I could say anything, some girl walked into the room. She had long hair, but it was pulled up in a braid (I think girls call it a fishtail- I see no resemblance whatsoever). She was obviously pretty. Long, skinny legs, big wide-set eyes... all that jazz and more. She looked at me scrutinizingly, but brushed it off in a smile. What was her name?..Oh yes. That was right. Kat, I presumed (I had heard about her from work-Cal was very loud).  
Not sure what to say, I looked at Anj for a few pointers, but she simply had her jaw squared and looked akin to a grumpy garden gnome. 
“Uhm, hullo!” I gulped.
She whipped around. 
“Can I help you?” I asked
“Oh...oh yeah! Have you seen someone named Aiden? Kinda looks like a neanderthal?”
Anj snorted. I laughed nervously.
“Wow. He your ex?”
“Oh he’s more than just an ex. He’s dead...AS SOON AS I FIND HIM!” Evidently, she had found him, because she ran off in the direction of a guy who was unsuccessfully hiding behind a potted plant half his size. Almost felt bad for him. 
“Wow. She’s, huh, feisty,” I said, half laughing.

Anjali huffed angrily.

I cleared my throat. “I’m sensing some bad blood between you two...” 
Anjali didn't have any time to answer this either, because Kat came huffing back. 
“Hey..guys...whew! Well that scared him away real good! Good thing I always keep a gun or two handy. Yep. That jerkwad was a lying, cheating, hor-” and then she burst into tears. I offered her a tissue (the box, conveniently, was placed right behind me on a little stand). Kat didn’t even want the tissue. She ended up shredding it to pieces and tossing it to the floor and sobbing even harder.
“I-I’m sorry,” she sniffed, trying to regain a bit of her composure. 
“No problem!” Anj chirped, who was definitely enjoying this. I looked at her. She gave a little shrug and a “I am so not passing up this opportunity” look. All the same, I felt sort of bad for Kat, so I awkwardly patted her back.
“There...there...”
Anj snorted derisively. Kat didn’t notice. 
“I just- I thought we were gonna have it all and- BUT WHATEVER I DON’T CARE ABOUT DIRTY PIGS LIKE HIM! I AM A STRONG, INDEPENDENT, BLACK WOMAN!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Anj silently mouthing “black woman?”, shaking her head. 
“Right!” I chirped as cheerfully as possible. What the heck was I supposed to say now?! 
“Awww, Kat, don’t cry! Me and Wendy’ll cheer you up!! Let’s go raid the kitchen because I smell some COOOKIIEESSS!” 
I stumbled back. Ah of course, the person who had perfected his skill for bad timing. What the heck, WHO INVITED KENT?!
“GOD KENT! I’M HAVING A HEART ATTACK SOME ANNOUNCEMENT BEFORE YOU POUNCE PLEASE!” 
By now Anjali was shaking, unsuccessfully trying to stifle her laughter. Buttwipe. 
“Sorry Geoff, thought you knew I was here,” without so much as glancing at me, he grabbed a wrecked Kat and his equally bizarre girlfriend, and sped off to the kitchen, calling back, “Toodles, Jeff Jeff!” Ugh. Was he even a man? I glanced at Anjali. She smiled. Huh. That smile- it seemed familiar. Like I had seen it, before, a lot. Everyday maybe. Which reminded me, I wanted to ask her something...
“Sorry. Er, Anj, not to be a prude, but you don’t remember me? At all?”
“Should I?” she looked at me quizzically.
I chuckled. “Really, though. Do you remember me?"

Unconsciously, I found myself staring down at her, closer then I had been a minute ago.A tad too close. She looked up, probably thinking I was some creeper. Well, I am a creeper. So there. What was this anyway, a cheesy romance movie? Was there someone up in the clouds, playing puppeteer?

“Boop.”

Startled (I was spacing out), I looked down at Anjali. She had a finger poking me away.

“Ever heard of personal space?”

“Uhm...”

She laughed and I backed away.

“Oh well, you know, maybe you don’t. It was almost a year ago anyway, and you were really drunk. I just came back to tell you I have a kid and it’s yours.”

She waved her hand offhandedly, not missing a beat. “Oh well, it’s not the first time it happened. You all just blend together.”

Anj bit her lip, tapping her fingers. Her face grew darker, and she looked like she was debating whether to tell me something. All right, she definitely had some answers.

“Go on,” I encouraged her, trying my best to look as open and innocent as possible.

“Well...” she started, “don’t laugh. Promise not to laugh? Okay good. Um. Well I’ve been having these dreams. Well, they feel more like memories than dreams really, but that can’t be right, I mean this stuff doesn’t even happen in real life, I’ve got a hyperactive imagination anyway and I really maybe too much coffee I dunno but you were in uhm it and you er well you shot me you see maybe it’s all just crazy but if that’s the answer you were looking for-”

I froze. Shot her? Suddenly, I felt very aware of everything that was going on. Anjali was still talking away, the DDR game had some 8-bit 70’s music playing, there was the sound of people talking and glasses clinking and people yelling at the computer angry because of something Starcraft related and someone was having a fight and another person had knocked over a glass dish and it was so hot and yet so cold at the same time and the lights were so bright and-

I had to get out of there. Slowly, I turned away from Anjali and walked away. When I heard her trying to catch up to me, I broke into a jog, then a run. I was already out the door and three flights of stairs down from Cal’s dorm when she gave up chasing after me. Man, I was so gone. I exited via the side door and ran off into the muggy night. Forget the car. Geez, what idiot thought to put so many street lights out here? I mean, the whole place was orange from all of the streetlights! Ugh, no. There was a deserted little alley not too far from where I was. Well, now, wasn’t that just perfect. A dark little corner where I could be by myself and most probably get brutally murdered. All fine by me.

Actually, there wasn’t so much of a creepy psycho lurking on the side as there was a creepy couple making out. Like honestly, really going at it.

“There’s always tomorrow kids! And don’t forget to use protection!” I yelled, walking past them and moving further down the constricted path. They gave me a brief glare and walked off somewhere else. Now I was all alone...and I liked it. I could revel in the darkness. No one could see me, no one knew me, and I liked that too. Most of all, and most importantly, I couldn’t see anyone. I sniffled and wiped my nose, because even if it was hot and humid out here, I was still cold. My mind was still buzzing and numb. I stood there for a while, not thinking, not hearing, not listening. Just standing.

“Hullo,” a person to my left murmured. I hadn’t noticed him. Wow. He was pretty quiet. Was I supposed to be scared? Probably. Whatever.

“Hey.” I answered gruffly.

“What’s up.”

I looked at him. I couldn’t really see his face.

“Dunno.” Didn’t feel like answering him. He walked ahead two paces, so that his back was turned to me. He swiveled around.

He smiled in a sort of knowing manner, looking at his shoes. Then he looked back up at me.

“Should I, ah, put you out of your misery?”What? What was that supposed to-

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” I choked, too scared to scream. The guy-HE HAD A KNIFE! A FLIPPING KNIFE! God oh god oh god geez-

I was pinned to the wall in half a heartbeat, like a shot rabbit in its death throes. His hands gripped my hair and tilted my head back. The psychpath grinned insidiously, slowly cutting a thin line under my throat. I struggled to breathe, I was too scared too feel anything yet, I was going to get-

“Don’t worry, I won’t make this...too long,” he chuckled, pressing just the smallest fraction of an inch harder.

“Oh god,” I said, groaning, “God. What do you want? I don’t have any cash, any thing of any value-I don’t have anything! There’s no one you could get a ransom from-”

“Oh, stop complaining! I don’t want any money! I just wanna see you squeal!” he licked his teeth, pausing over each grime coated yellow nub. Oh, where was the justice in such a cruel world?

By now, I was cursing creatively in my head (couldn’t risk moving my throat and getting cut any deeper) and my heart palpitations were no more than fluttery beats inside my chest, even though I had enough adrenaline to keep me going for days (good use that went to though, I was too scared to do anything). The guy was twice my size too. Oh god. This was how I was going to die. I was going to die I was going to die I was going to die-

I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping it would be over quickly. But suddenly...something clicked in my brain. I kneed him and although he didn’t double over, he let go of his grip on my hair and neck, giving me enough time to punch his head and his stomach, which did (in fact) make him double over. I snapped into position behind him and grabbed his wrists, twisting them so he dropped the knife onto my shoe. I kicked it back up into my hands and shoved him to floor, placing a foot on his chest. Slowly, I leaned in and said, “Any last words?” and slit his throat before he could let out a sniveling mew.

It all had happened in a matter of seconds.

Justice had been served.

…I had killed a person.

Moreover, I had killed Anjali. Read chapter four here! -->

http://www.tellury.com/2012/10/anjali-pov-bam-i-yelped-as-i-felt.html

:) 

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