Lexie Grenville
Not a writer but would love to be :)
Lexie Grenville
Not a writer but would love to be :)
Maria
Maria’s death was her own choice.
There was nothing I could do- it all happened too quickly, and my body took over. Eight days ago when I walked into our bedroom, I found the neighbor, Tony, thrusting under the sheets. I rushed over to the bedside and gripped his shoulders, ripping him off the top of my wife.
Tony’s eyes locked with mine, beads of sweat rolling down his fat body. He tried to explain his actions, but I understood enough. I drew my elbow back, and bury my clenched fist into Tony’s face.
“NO!” Maria shouted. I took a step back from the bed. I loved her so much… I pulled my 45, and planted a hole square into Tony’s forehead. Maria’s earsplitting screams pierced my soul, but the relief I felt was greater than the guilt I felt from taking another mans life.
Blood covered the headboard, and Tony’s limp carcass lay next to Maria’s naked body. Maria kept screaming, but what was left of my guilt turned into rage. How could she? We had been together for 32 years…
She didn’t need to die like this.
Reflection
It wasn’t a stare-down… more of a moment of general curiosity. A burning passion to know more. As Tom gazed into the coyote’s eyes, he couldn’t help but see a fragment of himself. He shifted his hiking pack to his left shoulder. Not once did their gaze break… a connection of souls. A feeling of nostalgia rushed over Tom. He knew this animal. He knew it. He could feel it.
Tom set his pack down and approached the mirror. The coyote did nothing but blink. Why wasn’t it moving, thought Tom. No one has ever stayed with him longer than to their own benefit. This felt different. This was change. He held out a hand, maneuvering it into the coyote’s reach. In his palm laid a half-eaten granola bar. “Please… take it…” Tom said. The coyote did nothing but blink. “Please…” Tom repeated. The coyote snatched the bar from his hand and scampered into the darkened shrubbery.
All that remained of the encounter was a single scratch on the back of his hand, left from the shattered mirror’s teeth.
Just like all the others.
Trail Down South
A cold winters breeze sent a vibrating chill down Maria’s back. What was planned to be a quick summers walk had turned into a dangerous hike through the alpine mountain range. A series of heavy winds and bands of thick snowfall had disoriented her, pushing her down the South trail. Missing a sign pointing to the final turn towards her rental cabin, Maria was heading to her death.
She let out a moan of pain, crumbling into a ball to conserve body heat. On a final crawl to safety, an inviting, yellow light tempted her though spruce branches. She crawled closer and closer to the light, veering off of the trail. Ducking under low-lying limbs, She met up with the path once again, leading to a small cabin nestled between two sheer cliffs. It dawned two small floors and a cozy front doorway, begging Maria to enter. She crawled to the engraved wood paneling bordering the door, pulled herself up, and twisted the doorknob.
A flood of warmth poured over her, reawakening her numbed fingers. Removing her shoes, she brushed her toes across the soft brown carpet, situating them atop the metal vent emitting heated air.
“Hello? What- who are you? What are you doing in my house?” Bellowed a deep voice, coming from behind. Maria snapped her neck around to face the voice, revealing a large old man with a long white beard, red coat and pants, and a black belt with a silver buckle.
Coming Out
“So… thank you for joining me here at the… the dining room table…”
“Uhm… your welcome? What did you want to talk about honey?”
I’ve known this moment has been coming for a long time now. Cynthia, my daughter, is sitting across from me, and my husband Robert is next to me. We’ve been called by Cynthia for some… “big, unexpected news.” Behold to her expectations, I know the exact words about to rush out of her mouth.
“So mom… remember that time you were asking about my boyfriend… and I told you I didn’t have one, but I was in a relationship…”
“Yes, what about it honey?” I questioned.
“And you remember that time you came into my room… and my friend Emily was there…”
“Yes! Emily. I remember her. Such a sweet girl, I hope she finds the right person for her.” I said. With Cynthia, conversations are like a game of chess. You must stay ahead. Know what moves your opponent will fall for before they even know they are in danger.
‘Yes… about that…” She added, eyes drifting to the left. Checkmate.
“About what?” I questioned. I need to push her over the edge.
“Emily. She… actually has found… the right person,” Cynthia mumbled… her voice began to shake. We’re almost there… just a little more. “Who is it sweetie?”
Silence. My job is over.
“It’s… me. It’s me. I’m Emily’s girlfriend. Mom… I’m gay.”
A long pause followed this. I’ve always thought about this moment but never actually known what I was going to say.
“Oh sweetie… We know.”
The Playground
The morning dew on the fresh cut grass expelled a smell so vivid, it seems almost impossible to forget that day. Dark grey clouds loomed overhead, and a thick fog flooded my lungs with humidity. I sat on one side of the seesaw, alone at the playground. Always alone. Up and Down, Up and down. Each repetition caused the rusty joint to squeak.
As I bounced up and down on the seesaw, the dreary green chain linked fence which surround the playground rattled. I swing my head towards it and a light whisper caught my ear. “Hello there!” Said a soft, soothing voice. I looked around, making out a tall figure across the fence, imperceptible though the fog. “Can you please help me find my dog?” I thought the voice was a boy.
“Your dog?” I said curiously. “Where did he go?”
‘I’m not sure… can you come help me look?” The mysterious man replied.
“Ok…” I said, walking towards him. As I approached the fence, the less I could see of him. He was dressed in all black, and a low rim hat covered most of his face.
“Come closer… let me tell you how to find him!” He yelled, a tone of excitement present in his voice. I lean my head against against the fence, when the man reached his hand through the holes and grasped my hair. He pulled back on it with immense force, and a sharp pain ran through my scalp. I braced my hands on the fence to push away but he grabbed my wrist using his other hand. Warm, sticky blood began to run down my right arm.
I was lost. I had no idea what to do, so I screamed. I screamed until my voice was scratchy and dry. Until I couldn’t anymore.
“GET OFF,” boomed a voice from behind. My neighbor Mr. Hickley had stepped out on his front porch and spotted what was happening. He ran as fast as he could and helped dislodge the mans gripping hands from my arms. The mysterious man ran away into the fog.
“Are you ok? how did this- who was he?” Mr. Hickley frantically asked. He glanced down at the river of blood coming from my forearm. “Let’s get you home and cleaned up… then we will call the police.” He said.
Two Of A Kind
“What the hell.” Said shame 1. “Pride, this is all your fault. You said that she liked Thomas back. Now were stuck here in this stupid little room with Anguish. She’s going to flood it with her god damn tears.” “HE DOES LIKE HIM.” Yelled Pride 2, reaching his neck over the cubicle wall.
Another day in the office means another day navigating Thomas’s feelings. As humanity developed, five functions evolved: Metabolism, Subconsciousness, Senses, Cognation, and finally, emotions. Each new human receives the same functions, but different operators within them. Thomas was a special case; he had a double set of emotion operators.
“I HATE- I HATE YOU!” Screamed Anguish 1 between sobs. The Angushes had positioned themselves between the toilet and sink in the bathroom, having turned the sink on to drown the sound of her dripping tears out.
“KNOCK KNOCK!” Yelled both Glees on the bathroom door, perfectly in sync. “Are you o—“ “Are you ok in there?” Said Glee 2. “NO!”
The Glees sent a fusillade of knocks on the bathroom door. “Let us in!” They stated over and over and over and over, voices merging with the argument between the Shames and Prides.
I genuinely can not take this anymore. All I do all day is stare at this stupid computer screen all day. I do the most work in this entire building, but still I’m forced to stare at the Glee’s cubicle, selectively located right in front of a bright, hot pink wall. The garish color is starting to burn a hole in my eyes. Too much is happening right now. I can’t focus- none the less react to what is happening. I’m frozen. Solid.
“HE DID LIKE US BACK. HES LYING.” “OPEN THE DOOR ANGUISHS” Pink. “HE OBVIOUSLY DOESN’T. HE REJECTED US.” “PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE!” Pink. “I DON’T KNOW HOW OR WHY I JUST KNOW, OK?” “PLEASE ANGUISHS, WE JUST WANT TO HELP.” Pink.
“SHUT UP!” I roared. I can see the steam leaving my ears. “SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP. ALL YOU DO IS SIT HERE ALL DAY AND DO NOTHING. YOU ALWAYS LEAVE ALL THE WORK TO ME AND IM DONE, I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE. I QUIT.” I grab my twin by the wrist, and pull him out the front door with me.
“Hey fury!” Said Dopey, whom I was passing in the neuron hallway. “I was just on my way to the Amygdala to give the Glees some more assignments… I heard about what happened. I thought Thomas could use it. “It doesn’t even matter, Dopey. They never do them anyway,” I say, twin still in hand. “Oh…” Dopey says quietly as I stomp down the hallway.
“Can we please go back…” says Fury 2. “No. Why would you want to? Why are we always so out of sync…” I just miss my friends. They need all the help they can get right now. I’m going back,” retorts Fury 2. I watch as he jogs the short stretch to Dopey, walking with him and entering the Amygdala through the door to the Annex.
He’s right… isn’t he…
It’s been 4 days since the rejection… things are starting to look up. All of us operators have sat down and had a discussion about responsibilities and boundaries in the meeting room. We’ve decided we’re all going to balance responsibilities a little better. A few days ago, the optics rolled in a box T.V., showing us that Thomas was being put in therapy… I suppose were all making progress working through our emotions.
Drift Away
Knowing in your heart and soul, A feeling that is true and old. Drift further and further and further away, Our bond won’t last another day.
Friendship, one not made to last, We must move on, make it the past. We tried and tried and tried to stay But distance only continued to prey.
Best friends at one moment, The next, our link potent. “Can we at least please please try to stay in touch.” “I think I would like that very very much.”
Blink, Breathe.
One. Blink.
“Hello?”
Two. Breathe.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
One. Blink.
“What… where… where am I?” I said, a slight choke could be heard in my voice. Where was I? Everything was black. There was nothing. Nothing but pain.
My eyes felt as if they were being ripped from my skull. I opened my mouth to call for help again but the only thing that came out was a scream. Tears caressed my cheeks, and sweat flowed down the back of my neck. My mouth tasted metallic and sticky, almost certainly blood… the only question was from where.
Two. Breathe.
I managed to open my eyes. I expected a piercing light to enter but the only thing visible was darkness. Who am I? Where did I come from? My eye began to settle, allowing a flood of thoughts to enter my mind. Why am I here? Why can’t I remember anything?
I felt around my surroundings… there felt to be a table with sharp tools, a counter with what I presume are latex gloves, and what seems to be a chair… though it has an odd shape and metal pieces connected to it. I wave my hands out in front of me as I walk around, feeling all the surfaces around me. Door. I checked the handle, but it’s locked. I make my way back to the counter and run my fingers across the cool surface until I slice my finger on what felt to be a scalpel. I jolt my hand back in pain and suck on my finger. Definitely blood.
One. Blink.
I continued to brush up against the side of the wall, looking for anything different. Something pokes my side as I’m walking along, and my fingers feel the familiar shape of a light switch. I excitedly flip it on and the fluorescent lighting shoots a bullet through my skull, almost a cruel joke from what i predicted earlier. Everything was spinning. Black and White flickers clouded my vision as I struggled to breathe through the damp, lingering air.
An indescribable smell hangs in the air… one I remember. Surgery. I remember. Surgery.
Two. Breathe.
Blood. Everything, everywhere. Blood. So much of it. I retched all over the white ceramic tile, shielding up what’s left of its glossy texture. What the blood didn’t cover my vomit did. The wallpaper was stained red and the sharp tools, which were operating equipment, were bathed in the sticky red substance. The chair I earlier felt earlier appears a dentist chair and is located in the center of the room. The chair is the most normal thing in the room, apart from the metal restraints that appear towards the bottom, middle, top and sides. It seems as if it was the only thing bothered to be cleaned.
One. Blink.
The locked door bursts open. “SHIT!” Panics a man dressed in white scrubs. Another man grabs one of the ominous sharp tools— a syringe— and stabs me in the side. I can feel the liquid injected into my body spreading, branching off through my veins like a cascade of agony. I flail my limbs in an attempt to stop the two men from grabbing me… but everything is fading…
Darkness.
“How was she thinking still?” Said a voice from somewhere in the room.
“We’ve already removed half of it. I don’t know what else we can do, sir.” I heard, still regaining consciousness.
“Take it all out. Move directly into phase 11. She isn’t progressing like I thought she would.”
“Yes sir, we will start right away.”
The door slams and I can hear footsteps move away from the door.
Where am I? Am I still in this hell-hole? I try moving, but I’m stuck. Trapped. My ankles, waist, neck, and wrist are held tightly to a chair. I try to scream but nothing comes out, just a dry rasp.
Two. Breathe.
Suddenly, I can hear a whirring noise from behind me. A saw. I sit helplessly as I feel the rotating metal enter slowly into My skull. An agonizing, tortuous pain fills my entire body. I pray for death, but for some reason, I know it won’t come.
Darkness.
“It’s done sir, we’ve fully removed it, as well as a prototype replacement. It should finally start functioning properly.”
“Perfect. Follow me to my office”
A creak of the door sounds and a train of footsteps carries away my last breath of hope.
One. Blink
Two. Breathe.
One. Blink.
The Only Option Left
A choice was to be made.
Enigma was desperate- it was the only option left. He had to tell her. Amanda had to know who he was and he knew it, for she was the only one who could save humanity.
In the face of Motaba, Enigma was rendered useless. Super Strength and the ability to fly can help save lives but not stop a global pandemic. He stood in the center of a road, scanning his desolate surroundings. A thick layer of sand coated the sidewalk and an ominous yellow tinge loomed in the air. Enigma could picture the past; people walking to work, or to have their morning coffee.
What once was a bustling city full of dreams and aspirations has become the soul of death and decay. Walking down the street, he glanced up at the bordering high-rises. Shattered windows provided the broken glass that was littered next to the skyscrapers. One broken window stood out— a bright red flag used to identify survivors hung out of it, flowing with the dusty breeze.
Enigma flew up to and in the window, finding himself in Amanda’s apartment.
“ENIGMA?” Amanda exclaimed from the corner she was hiding in.
“We all thought you were dead. That you would help us but you never came,” she followed with gritted teeth. Enigma let out an extended sigh. He understands her frustration, but knows she doesn’t know his full story.
“I’m so… so sorry,” he said quietly.
A moment of silence lingered. “I really do apologize, so much… but…” Enigma grabbed Amanda’s shoulders.
This was something he never thought he would have to do. After making himself a world legend, he thought he could remain a mystery from his best friend forever. Amanda gazed into his eyes. She had no idea that she was the only human left on earth with the knowledge to end Motaba.
“Enigma…” Amanda said, her eyes piercing. “Why are you here.” A long exhale followed from Enigma. He met his eyes with hers, reaching his hands up to the signature mask he wears on his face.
After one moment, he took it off.