10-23-2013, 02:49 PM
Preface
I wish I could say that this is a story that ends well, but I can't say that with honesty, and I refuse to lie. Lying, in a sense, is what one could assume got me into this situation in the first place. However, I will say that this story is one of enlightenment, and one I believe all of you need to hear. So, gather 'round, profligates. It's now up to me to bring you the word of God, written in the scrolls that men have killed, maimed, brutalized others for. The search for answers is over, for now, at long last, we've found them.
Bright eyed souls and weary spirits, please give me your attention, and you will meet the Lord.
Chapter One
Journal Entry One, Date: October 31, ----
Halloween. Am I supposed to be impressed or something? We, as in myself, and two of my idiot friends are going on a trip to this town. Now, I don't know too much about it, but Anthony, the king of the idiots, says that it's supposedly haunted by the wandering spirits of the old outlaws who were put down in the graveyard nearby. Now, this is all a bunch of bullshit, but I figured, fuck it, why not? It'll be great to see the look on their faces when they realizes that all the rumors they heard were just that. Rumors. A bunch of stupid bullshit created on the internet by an equally as pathetic group of basement dwellers who either have too much creativity or not enough talent to be published authors.
Wait, Twilight got published. Definitely too much creativity.
Anyway, better keep this entry short. Better than having Ivan and Anthony ask me every five seconds "What are you writing, bro?" in their grunting tones.
Why am I even friends with them?
Signed, Mani Devan
"Wow Anthony, way to go," Mani began, laughing heartily at the predicament that the driver had managed to get them in. That being, carelessly driving over a pothole leading them to be stuck on the side of the road, the car unable to move any further, almost as if by some strange coincidence.
"Shut the fuck up," Anthony shot back, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, and pulling his cell phone out of his back pocket with the other. With an exasperated sigh, he looks down at the device, punching in the 10 digit combination that he dreaded. His father. The phone rings once, before going right to the machine.
"Oh right," he continues, sliding the phone back where it came from and leaning forward, pressing both palms against the hood of the car. He clenches his eyes shut before screaming out in rage and slamming both fists on the hood, denting it inward, forcing a second rage fueled outburst.
"Hey! Calm the fuck down! It's bad enough you wrecked my fuckin' car, now you're just beating the shit out of it?" Ivan's voice wavers, assertive in tone, but not so much so as to sound defiant to the will of his aggressive older brother. Swinging around, hands still balled into fists, Anthony storms over to his brother, cocking his fist back all the while.
"You got somethin' to say?"
"Both of you, cut that shit out," Mani's calm, albeit sarcastic voice cuts through their adrenaline fueled outbursts. Simultaneously taking deep breaths, they turn to their friend, who was beginning to take things out of the trunk while they bickered.
"What're you doing?" The brothers turn to look at each other, bewildered at the unison of their questions.
"We're walking."
"Not a chance," Ivan protested.
"That wasn't a question. We're walking."
"Fuck that!"
"Look; I didn't even want to go on this trip. Just be glad I'm not say we should just call a cab and get the fuck home."
"Ugh."
Ivan, face red in annoyance, marked with a look of defeat, walks over to the trunk and begins to help his friend in the mindnumbing task of moving suitcases. Looking into the pit of assorted knickknacks and items of "importance," he spots his own case; a brown leather travelling case with his initials, I.S, marked on the side in black Sharpie marker. A smile creeping across his face, he pulls it out of the trunk, and sets it on the ground beside him.
"So uh, what're we gonna do about the car?" Ivan's voice trembled, asking the question to whomever would answer.
"I don't know, ask the genius who crashed it," Mani snarled, looking back at the two before turning back to the trunk, pulling out the last of the carrying cases.
"Hey, man. Fuck. You. Okay?" Anthony storms over to the trunk, grabbing Mani by the front of his shirt before pulling him in closer. His hand once more balls into a fist and he cocks it back before throwing a punch that connects with the bigger man's stomach. Mani doubles over and drops to his knees, before hitting the ground with his two open palms and hopping back up with an intense roar.
"This stupid fighting ain't getting us nowhere!" Now, Ivan was the voice of reason. The voice of reason who just used a double negative, but still the rational one none the less. Nodding in reluctant agreement, Anthony releases his grip on Mani's shirt, before Mani turns around and gives the man a punch of his own.
"Oh, come on man," Anthony started, clutching his own stomach.
"Payback, bitch!"
Grabbing the suitcase nearest him, Mani tosses it to the man on his knees. Reaching back over, he grabs his own and picks it up, slinging the strap around his shoulder.
"Seriously though; what about the car?" Ivan repeats this question with a newfound sense of confidence.
"Who cares? It can't drive. No one will take it, man," Mani assures his worried friend before slamming the trunk shut.
"Let's head out. We don't want to get caught on the side of the road at night now, do we?" Mani laughs, looking up to the darkening sky while the brothers scramble to get their cases in a comfortable walking position. Lord knows how long they'd be out there...