Writing Static Apostacy

[Justin]

I took care to put the ticket away. I didn't want Ma' to know where I was headed. She'd already seen Pop go that way--Will, and Tim too. I knew it'd break her heart to see another son leave.

[i]But you have to run, you have to flee.
You have to leave across the sea[/i]

I couldn't shake it. I first heard it when Debbie left, came back, left, and came back again. Only God knows where she is or what she was doing now. But that voice stuck with me still. I'd tried time and time again...tried to forget it. Tried planting my own businesses, tried working with Ma', tried to be productive--tried real hard, honest. But it kept pestering me, beckoning me, pulling me...

[i]Come to me, live, be free.
You have to leave across the sea.[/i]

It drove me stark, raving insane. I thought of Jenny, the times we'd shared. Her brown eyes, olive skin, and chocolate hair. I thought again of Debbie...oh, how I longed to see her. She burned, her soul just burned. Her moments of joy and those when she deperately begged of us to stop her from doing that which was inevitable.

I often wondered why(on those lonely, lonely nights), why had Sarah stayed so long? She seemed above us all--too smart--too pretty and too smart for us, but she stayed when all of the rest of us started to leave.

(As you must be able to tell by now, the stuff has really racked my wrecked mind. Perhaps it's well that I am "doing the deed," after all, as they say.)

Mother(as she now was to be called) had gotten over her sorrow at her lost children. It happened--life happened. That was that to her now.

"Don't do it again, I'm not helping you out."

Just die. You're old, you're time is out, just give up already. I hate you, I hate everything you've become...why don't you just make everything good again, Mom?

[i]Come here, you'll see.
You have to leave across the sea.[/i]

Why won't you just wait a minute? Who are you that you have the right to invade me like this? Can't you see, can't you see I've got no time for it? There's Jenny, Debbie, Jimmy, and Toni. I still have to feed Chris and look after Drake. Sarah is sick, and I'm already too late.

[i]Your time here is done, just wait and you'll see.
Or you can leave across the sea.[/i]

The sea. The sea! Always the sea! Can't you see that you're torturing me? Butchering me, driving me mad! There's still time, still time to talk to Debbie...if she ever comes back. But what about Sarah? She's sick isn't she? I can still speak to her, maybe she'll come with me.

[i]You have to run, you have to flee.
You have to leave across the sea.[/i]

What about Michal? He's so smart--so pretty and so smart. Can't I try to bring him with me? And Mom, why do I have to leave Mom?

[i]Look, see.
They're not Will, Tim, Dan, or Matt. You need to be free.
It's time to leave across the sea.[/i]

That was the last I'd heard of him. My mind--I think I wrecked it. Wrecked like I wrecked my first car. Or was that a dream? I can't remember. Anyway...I'm really glad I had this opportunity. One where I could be frank.Tell all you cats to just leave me alone. I don't hate anyone, but I guess my life here is done. Here's my ticket on Liner 351. Time to go. I have to run, I have to live and be free. Now I'm leaving across the sea.

-Justin

[Lady Asphyxia]

[font=Verdana][size=1]Oh, lovely piece of writing. The interjections in italics -- inner monologue? -- first seemed to be a song to me, which was cool. It was even cooler when I realised that it wasn't a song, that the main character was just replying to himself. [/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=1]I thought the last paragraph was exceptionally good; [font=Tahoma][size=2][font=Verdana][size=1][i]My mind--I think I wrecked it. Wrecked like I wrecked my first[/i] [i]car. Or was that a dream? I can't remember.[/i] I really liked that bit. It was very honest, with the slightly confused monologue of someone who isn't quite sure[/size][/font] [font=Verdana][size=1]of their sanity and the reliability of their thoughts.[/size][/font][/size][/font][/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=1]This piece has a very furtive sort of feel to it. Like the idea of someone not being sure of their footing, so they put their foot down and lean on it, then decide against treading there and take their weight off it...it has an indecisiveness and a [i]should I, should I not?[/i] sort of feel, which is very real. Most people suffer from indecisiveness at some point of their lives.[/size][/font]

[font=Verdana][size=1]Anyway, the piece is very good, really. My only complain would be that I don't really know who the characters he's talking about are. To fix that, you'd probably have to interrupt his monologue or something, which isn't a good idea, heh, seeing as that's rather beautifully done. [/size][/font]