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Leithreas

Writer's comentary: This is a non-fictional prose narrarated by me, Leithreas. All of the sentences in this story are true and exaggeration plays no roll at all. Prepare yourself for a read. The 9 page account of my life's day is in chronological order and I plan on continuing this story whenever I have the time. What you are about to read is only the first chapter. It was an extremely boring day, much like the rest of my life. I hope I put it in a context which is enjoyable to read and I hope you appreciate the events that happen in my life. (The story starts on the next post...)

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"I am the Alpha and the Omega," says the Lord God, "who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty." --Revelation 1:8

Have a nice day!

 

Leithreas

Bounded to the pew of a monolithic hall, solitarily sitting on the outskirts of a forced congregation, my eyes and thoughts were blinded by the bleakly decorated leather mask that was placed promptly over my head and chest. The calm voice of a woman chanted her prologue in what was to become the realization of my demise. Suddenly, the mask was removed and my thoughts began to race. How was I going to escape this unwanted sacrifice? Finally, my eyes were allowed to see and a white flash took over the dark cell in which I was consumed. As the dilation of my eyes faded, the massive hall came into focus and I carefully examined my surroundings.

Hundreds of my peers sat around me, gnawing cautiously on their single slice of American cheese. Curiously, I looked down and noticed that I was absent of a piece for myself. Unconscionably, I made my way to who seemed to be the mastermind behind this event; a young girl clad in a pure white gown sheathed with a gray cloak, standing calmly towards the crimson stained glass window stretching taller than the building itself. As she turned around to greet me, her gentle, serene face brought a sense of security to my heart, her true intentions camouflaged behind her penetrating blue eyes. She immediately knew why my presence was before her. The mistress chanted a single verse into my ear and soon after I found myself involuntarily walking towards the eastern doorway.

Amazingly, I was outside. The fresh air circulated through my bloodstream and brought only one message to my mind. I must save the others. I sprinted to the nearest building and demanded directions to the nearest law enforcement; however, no one cared to acknowledge the scared, dismal tone of my voice. I was forced to find the help myself. I began dashing down stairwells and leaping over the water-stained walls that made the maze of my location. With no luck, my hope waned and I let out a fierce scream that echoed throughout the corridors. My eyes were blurred from the tears they were left drowning in. As I turned around, I caught a glimpse of two blue figures jetting towards me. Wiping the tears from their sockets, my eyes opened widely, my heart started pounding, and a sense of euphoria overcame my depression. The figures that I was struggling to find ironically found me. I quickly described the current ordeal and we all raced back to the church from which I originated.

As we approached the sole window looking in to the congregation, a slight hum of enthusiastic singing filled our ears. How could this be? The once dim and desolate environment was now overfilled with joy. The kids quiet from the fear of their destruction now had their heads pointed to the sky, smiling with rejoice. Did they know what was to become of them in the near future? Had this mistress purposely let me leave knowing I would return at this moment? Had she actually devised all of the events that happened herself, in hopes of distorting my view on reality? The phone rang…

My eyes opened as I gazed onto the digitalized scarlet numbers of my bedside clock. The time was 10:28, Sunday morning. The thought of going to church with my mother seared my mind as I realized I had slept in. The phone rang again. I leapt out of bed and jumped towards my desk to answer it. The trite tone of ‘hello’ barely escaped my mouth. I waited for a response and two sentences ran through the wire. “Hey man, I have some money. Let’s hang out.” I accepted the invitation and prepared myself for the day. My mother was gone. Disappointed with my decision, she obviously had left to go to the service without me. Both of our departures would save me from the verbal abuse I’m forced to endure day after day.

When I arrived to Medric’s house we had to wait as our other friend, Jake, awoke from his five hour slumber. Aggravated at the intrusion, he sedated the time it took him to get ready. After nearly an hour we left the abode. It was Medric’s idea to go to The Mirage and play a few games of billiards, but Jake and I weren’t really up to the idea. Regardless, we took advantage of the gesture and advanced to the sports bar. The miniscule parking lot was overcrowded with monstrous Ford vehicles, as we struggled to find a spot to park our diminutive Volkswagen Jetta. Wedged in between two F150’s, we approached the doors with a current recognition of the Sunday football game in the midst of its commencement. Luckily, we found a table, but at that time our mood towards the game was not in its ebullience. We had planned to use the pool hall for at least an hour, but the noisy, baked room of cigarette smoke had diminished the little pleasure we had left.

Two games and ten minutes later, we had all come to the unanimous conclusion that playing pool was not the best action to partake in at this time. At that moment, or maybe before, Medric’s bipolar had set in and his mood drastically changed. Jake was obliged to pay for the meaningless event, an event that brought nothing but a waste of money and a cloud of negative energy to surround us. Medric had previously asked me to take him to the near-by Krispy Kreme in hopes of retrieving the counter girl’s phone number. His lavish pursuit for a woman’s touch was present in every word he spoke. Leaving the donut shop in vain, we entered the land of Nod, quietly degrading ourselves to the nothingness that engulfed our emotions. Medric broke the silence with a question in which both Jake and I looked at him with disbelief. He, with his shy composure, wanted to go to the mall to pick up some “hot chicks” in hopes of getting some play.

I laughed softly and granted his wish as Jake gave a muffled groan of discontent. We arrived at Southwest Plaza, uneager to trek through the endless amount of stores. As we walked through the food court, my eyes began wandering aimlessly. I began thinking about how all of the people in my vision had come to the exact same place for completely different reasons. I wondered where they came from and what they were doing in their life that required them to be present at the mall. The observations of their interactions had brought a subtle smile to my face, slightly increasing my mood to a content that was all too apathetic. The euphoric trance I had put myself into was quickly begotten as Jake pointed out an elder we were both common with. The owner of our occupations, along with his wife, and their two year old son, the tiny tike that does nothing but follow us around and offer his useless help as we work prudently into the night. After a pathetic attempt at small talk, we separated our ways.

We made it to the first isle and pondered a question we used all too often. What now? We entered the store next to us, Spencer’s. A dimly lit store full of crazed sex toys and a variety of trippy products designed for their drug-induced customers. As we made our way through the store, we encountered a seven year old curiously looking at a “waterproof massager,” not knowing what the true intentions for it actually were. Medric made a comment to him that he was too young to be in this store and should leave. He was right. A seven year old should not be exposing himself to manners such as “waterproof massagers.” His mother, an obese blond-haired lady, overheard the comment and shot Medric a glare full of demonic intentions. Distancing ourselves from the brief skirmish, we approached the posters. The same images we looked at every time we came to this place somehow continue to bring a sense of delight. Through with the tiresome act of looking, we left the shop and loitered in the miniature foyer.

I stared out into the open, continually watching other people as Jake and Medric dissolved into their own actions. The climate I had created for myself was at last established when Medric and Jake returned from their venture. Rhapsodic about finding a woman he could caress, Medric kept verbalizing his thoughts into a mindset no one wanted to hear. Jake challenged the annoying speech and pointed out a girl. She was around nineteen years of age and was wearing a revealing, black, sleeveless t-shirt along with an extremely short, pink miniskirt. She was defiantly attractive. Both he and I tried to persuade Medric into talking to her. He, however, was too timid to put his words into actions. Embarrassed by the situation, he disappeared as soon as we turned our heads from him.

Shortly after, Jake made a departure from the balcony we were standing on. He made his way back to the food court and into the Cinnabon shop as I distantly pursued. With his box of cinnamon rolls clutched tightly in his hand, he made his way towards the Cozzoli’s and reluctantly I followed. He bought himself two slices of pepperoni pizza and we sat at a table far away from the human contact. Medric made his reappearance and joined us at the table, his lavished pursuit concealed within his mind. We were all listening to the silence of the blatant crowd of the food court when a young boy, about nine years old, approached us. He asked if we would like to hear a song, and placidly we agreed.

He started by dancing ecstatically and sang only three lines of verse. “From the window…to the kitchen! Put some hot sauce on my chicken! Ooh babe…your breath is kickin!” He then bolted off behind me with a single bounce. That song, along with his enthusiastic tone of finally being able to sing it to someone, left us in a satisfying mood we were all happy to enjoy. With our uplifted spirits we left the mall with a disturbed feeling of nothing to do.

As we advanced to my car I received a phone call from a girl’s voice I could not direct a face to. She presented her name as Mandy, and all of a sudden a rush of horrid memories filled my mind. Mandy; the girl that once told me she would lay every boy in the school except for me; the girl that Jake once dated out of pity; the girl that finally left our lives for Indiana to get impregnated at the tender age of eighteen was back in town for vacation. Jake, still having pity for the not so good looking girl, asked for the phone. He graciously accepted the invitation to her house for a social visit. An action I wasn’t too happy about while Medric’s thoughts dwelled in the act of sexual intercourse with Mandy, a girl he’s never seen.

Heedless towards my own thoughts, I granted Jake’s wish to have a say in the day’s events. I made my way towards her house. Before we got there, Jake commented on the way he smelled and asked for a shower. Curious about how he was acting for a girl I thought he didn’t like that much, I took him back to Medric’s. A total of seven minutes of waiting, followed by an eight minute drive, we arrived at Mandy’s. Uncomfortable with my thoughts and surroundings, I distanced myself from her as we entered the house.

The inside was barren of all objects but construction materials. The house was undergoing an extensive makeover from ground level to the roof. We headed for the basement as to not intrude on her parent’s activities. There was absolutely no enjoyment for me while I was there and luckily Medric asked to leave. The mindless tortures of hearing her talk nonstop for fifteen minutes drove me to a state of misery. I felt as if I needed to isolate myself from the world she lived in. I dropped Medric off at an old friend’s house and I returned Jake to Medric’s. With mixed thoughts processing through my brain, I returned home to watch the prerecorded Presidential Debate.

The choice of television as entertainment was not mine to make. My English teacher assigned the debate to a one page essay on who we thought “won” and why. It was a completely inane assignment as I am not even registered to vote. I began the ninety minute discussion with a complete lack of elation. With a pencil in my hand and a pad on my lap, I jotted notes effortlessly as the two candidates pronounced their positions. Two thirds of the way through, Jake called me asking for a ride to work. Thwarted by the fact he couldn’t find a ride like he said he could, his tone of voice was presented weakly. I paused the debate and delivered him to his job.

On the way back, I became flabbergasted by the beauty of the nature above me. I stopped across the street from my house to capture the magnificence on digital film. The soothing white puffs of water vapor perfectly accented by the sharp, golden rays of sunlight sat ideally in the midst of a massive tenebrous rain cloud on top of the mountain side. Like a natural picture framed in the sky, I took three shots in hopes of combining them all into a panoramic envision I could share with others.

I returned home to find out my dad had stopped the debate and put in a lame movie for him to watch. I told him how I was using the television for homework and the only response he could come up with was why Jake’s dad couldn’t take him to work. Apparently, he had forgotten about how Jake was banished from his house after the disappointing incident that occurred late May. He was now living with Medric, taken in by the love his parents had for their son’s best friend.

I attempted to return to the seclusion of my own room when my father had told me he would be finished shortly. Ignoring the abrupt comment, I accessed my computer to see how my pictures turned out. The stunning array of overlapping snapshots calmed my mind. I began placing them together to form a giant photograph of the aesthetic sky. Ten minutes later my father yelled for me, asking if I was still using the television. He neglected to tell me when he was actually done with it, so I put my project on hold and went to finish the debate.

I grabbed my notebook and looked at the notes I had written. The page was as good as blank. After sixty minutes of listening to the public figures drag on about what the other had or hadn’t done, my page consisted of only two lines. “Presidental Debate notes” along with “Kerry vs Bush.” It seemed like my notes were in no position to help me. With the remaining thirty minutes of the debate, I struggled to scribble three points that would support my conclusion. Once the debate was finished, I released the television back to my father. I returned to my room to write the essay but was distracted by the image on my monitor and the project I had initiated during my wait.

I put the essay aside after only one paragraph was inscribed. I convinced myself to finish it the next morning before class started. I worked on my photo and made sure the final production captured the beauty I saw precisely. My cell phone rang at 8:04, seconds after I had finished putting together the digitalized panoramic painting. The call was from Jake, asking for a ride home after being cut an hour early. I dawned on my shoes and went to pick him up. After taking him home, Medric asked me to buy him a pack of cigarettes. He hopped into the car and I drove to the nearest gas station. He handed his money to me with a loss of motivation. I filled my gas tank with a merely seven dollars and purchased the pack of special blends for my friend. Taking him back home, I wanted nothing else to do but lie on my bed and be absorbed into the pillows for a good nights rest. As soon as I got home, I went to my room and kicked off my shoes. I jumped back from my desk and leapt into bed. The delicate, fluffy pillows engulfed me

blizzah

hope its as good as lyteitup420's story

SmokerForPeace

I really like it so far. I think you turned an otherwise boring story into a good piece of work with your writing style. I'll be waiting for the next installment.

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Cosmic Charley how do you do?
Truckin' in style along the avenue
Dumdeedumdee doodley doo
Go on home, your mama's calling you

KmKToker420

I think it's pretty good. I'll keep reading it

__________________
"We The People Are United,
The ones you never look in the eye,
We The People, The Uninvited,
The ones that see right through your lies"-Kottonmouth Kings

 

Lyte it up 420

and only imagine if i wrote that good how much better my story would be...very good leithreas

(and thanks for saying commentary, i'll need that word later!)

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Every living creature on earth dies alone.