Writing To Everywhere (PG-L)

[sahkiryce]

[FONT=Arial Narrow][I][COLOR=DarkRed][B]Updates 03/16[/B]: Finally added chapter 11. Remember you can access it in the links. This is probably my longest, most boring chapter....unfortunately.
[B]Updates 03/15[/B]: Hah, well if anyone is reading this sorry crap, thanks a bunches. Anyway...as the last chapter stated, I had writer's block. I am finishing a new chapter right now, I'll post it up shortly.
[B]Updates 03/13[/B]: I don't even know why I'm posting anymore. But yeah, I've added another chapter.
[B]Updates 03/12[/B]: You no longer have to scroll all the way down to the next chapter. I put up some links to the specific chapters now.
[B]Updates 03/12[/B]: I added another chapter. Fixed the intro. And I'm thinking of naming this whole thing "Book of Revelations." But I'm not sure yet. Gonna have to wait 'til all of it is finished.


[B][U]Introductions[/U][/B]
I've been writing these chapters, and have been contemplating whether or not I should put it up here and ask for feedback. But obviously now, I've decided to post it up. Please, I'd like some feedback....even if they are constructive comments about how it sucks haha well I really don't know what I'm writing anyway heh.

I can't even think of a proper title. This'll do for now. Oh yes, I wasn't sure of the ratings, I will gladly modify it if necessary.

To set you in the mood, I'm just gonna say this: I believe that life is dialogue....not a bunch of flowery descriptive words.

Bar
The Guilt
Anomaly
Genesis 18:16 to 19:29
The Short Memory
Earnest Contemplations
Sulking Cry Baby
The Monster's Name Was Jez Andra Belle
Perpetuating Night
Jake and the Obstacle
Jake Encounters Damion


[/COLOR][/I]

[B][U]Bar[/U] [/B]

"I want you to be honest with me baby," he muttered.

"Hm? What do you mean?"

"Don't give me any of your pity. You know I hate that."

Pursing her lips, she replied, "No I never knew that. Honestly"

"I've got no thoughts right now. You got no obligation to make everything better. So don't, okay?"

".......okay."

"Please......don't."

She looked at him....sensing how serious he was...he was serious. She sighed and replied, "I understand."

"When the blankness comes, you don't needa do anything. I'm gonna be out there, taking care of everything. It's gonna be a lil' rough, but all I need you to do is stay here. And when I come back, nothing happened. Please.....I like it better that way.......you love me right?"

"Yes. Of course! Don't you dare ask me that again. I love you."

"Will you do this for me?"

"As long as you promise to me that you'll be alright."

"I promise."

"Then okay."

There was a silence...he kissed her...and off he went.



[B][U]The Guilt[/U] [/B]

For a brief moment, he had experienced a burst of elation......but that was all over now.....and everything had gone back to the way things were.

Nothing.

He wandered the streets and whispered, "What the hell am I doing?"

"What the hell am I doing."

Nothing.

He replayed their conversation in his head, a conversation they had in the same place the other night.

"Do you like nice guys?" he asked her.

And she nodded and smiled answering, "Yeah."

"Why?"

"They have the best smiles, they have a true heart. When they compliment you, it's a compliment you can trust...unlike that of a sleazy 'mean' guy. I don't like them. I like nice guys better."

"Am I a nice guy?"

She laughed and answered, "Yeah I think so...I like you."

"But you know that saying...nice guys always finish last."

"But then there's also, you save the best for last, or you'll always have the last laugh," she shrugged, placing her chin on her hands saying, "I dunno, it goes something like that."

"You know that I think you're the greatest right?"

For a moment, she couldn't say another word...she sat there gathering her thoughts, but nothing materialized...just nothing. Quietly, she asked, "Why are you leaving?"

"I don't know...I don't know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be a mean guy...that's not you. You don't need to be mean, just be aggressive."

"I need to go."

"Alright. Fine."

He laughed to himself, as he strolled, wondering why he was about to think what he was about to think.

[I]She's frikkin ridiculous.[/I]



[U][B]Anomaly [/B] [/U]

That sensation....that sensation wasn't leaving at all. You know, the sensation you get when two eyes are diligently watching you, while you walk, while you eat, while you talk, while you breathe, while you piss....while you look over your shoulder to see if anyone is following you.

It wasn't leaving, and it bothered like crazy. Scratched like crazy, and gnawed...like crazy.

He spun around, [I]who's out there?[/I]

"Just me."

"Geez!" he nearly jumped out of his clothing, startled by the sudden voice, "You fu--"

"Don't you know it's not nice to swear?"

Who was this? Who was she to correct his language? She had no right to--

"Stop talking to yourself," the girl said, circling him, skipping as if there was a game of hopscotch etched around his feet, "I could hear you talking to yourself."

"I'm not talking to myself."

"Yes you are."

"Who are you? Never mind, leave me alone, I'm going somewhere."

"No you're not..."

Damn was she irritating, but she was a kid, and he had to control his temper, especially since she was a little girl, so he said, "I am. So...yeah good-bye."

"You're not going anywhere."

"And why? Why would you think that, you don't know me."

"You're not going anywhere, because you don't even know what your name is."

"My...name?" [I]hell, she was right...what IS my name?[/I]

The girl laughed and skipped a little ahead of him, and surprisingly, he followed. "Wait," he said, "Who the he--ck are you?"

"My name is Janine. Kind of old-sounding for a little girl huh? But I'm Janine, what's your name?"

He shrugged saying, "I don't know."

"I'm gonna call you...Jake."

"Naw, I hate that name."

"Then Jake it is!" she laughed again and she started running away, giggling, giggling lightly...that kind of laughter annoyed him.

"Hey! Wait!" running after her, he began yelling, and moving forward, trying to catch up to her, "Why Jake?"

She had stopped, and he nearly lost his balance halting himself so that he wouldn't run into her, and he heard Janine answer, "Because the author didn't give you a name."

"What? Author?"

"Yeah, author. She didn't give you place either, or a plot. You're like a blank canvas with a...a personality. And I think you're a Jake."

This was getting too weird, and so-called "Jake" hated the unknown and the weird, and he pointed at her quite angrily, saying, "What the hell are you talking about? This IS the place! And what [I]author[/I] for cryin' outloud??"

"The author see?" Janine pointed upwards, but there was nothing to see out there but blackness, "Jake, you're the protagonist. I think she didn't give you a plot because she wanted [I]you[/I] to go make one."

"What kind of author makes his or her characters make the plot? I can't possibly be making this as I go...she's probably writing or typing my words right now, typing it up so others can read my #*$%ing words, is that it? Where's the #&*$ing privacy in [I]that[/I]?"

"She just bleeped you out just now, she hates it when you curse," Janine giggled.

As frustrated as he was, he felt a bit afraid as well.

"But it's weird huh? Having others read what you're doing....like eyes watching you all the time," Janine said with a grin, "Well I'm off. You're new around here and I noticed that you were having a little trouble. It was nice meeting you Jake."

She started to skip away again, and he went after her saying, "Wait, okay, then what's my girlfriend's name? Why was I at a bar to begin with?"

"See? You're getting the hang of it, she's your girlfriend now."

"What's her name??"

"Whatever you want," Janine smiled...

And she disappeared....then standing there, he started thinking to himself, wondering which way to go, nothing but tall street lamps to light the roads, no names, no where....nothing.



[B][U]Genesis 18:16 to 19:29 [/U] [/B]

Okay author....let's switch this to first person. Did you do it? Am I the one that is speaking now? Good.

[I]Do not use profanity...I will blot it out.[/I]

Yeah yeah....so....here's my story. I was put smack dab in the middle of a town, with no names, no places, and get this, I'm supposed to make up every single thing that goes on in here. I don't like to control things ya know? I just want them to fall into place.

Well for some reason, I feel like I came from a particular town....I don't think it's there anymore.

[I]What happened to the town?[/I]

I think....I think someone torched it.

[I]Why did they do that?[/I]

I--I don't know. Let me relive the moment please....

..............thanks.

This is it, this town right here...damn....I hate this town.

"Hey there Jake, how's it goin'? Feelin' lonely? Haven't seen ya in a while?" the fool winked and grinned.

Disgusting. I can't stand this place, and the people in it, "Leave me alone...I've got to find Irene."

"Who's that Jake?"

"My girlfriend. I left her somewhere....why don't you go find a girlfriend too ya freak."

"Why are you being so hateful? That saddens me. Never mind Jake, I can find someone else who loves me."

That's what this town was for. Those people littered the streets, they had no shame. The men, the women, squirmed with each other almost like earthworms at any given day, and what the hell, to them, it didn't even matter who they squirmed with. What kind of town is this? I don't wanna walk into a room having to see that. I hate that. I really do. I've got to find Irene and disappear from this place....

But why did other people enjoy watching that sort of thing? Did they find it amusing? Sexy? I'm not a righteous person, but I sure as hell know what is right and what is wrong, and I'm not afraid to say it. Well maybe I am, because if I say it all outloud now, I'd probably get beaten to death by every man, every woman, and by every one of their allies. But, Irene...I'll ask this person.....

"Where's Irene?"

"Irene?" she said, "I don't know an Irene. If you find her let me know."

"Shut it! Wipe that #*@(%&# grin off yer face or I'll do it for ya!"

That's right, run away....giggle like the idiot you are. I hate this place.

"Hey you."

What? Who's talking to me now?? What the hell, it was her...Janine...but she wasn't a little girl.

"Janine?"

"Yeah how'd you know?" she asked.

"I met you....don't you remember?"

"No I don't, but anyway, I have no time for intros. I need some help. I'm getting rid of this place. I'm burning it."

"Wait...I need to find Irene."

"Irene? Oh that girl. She's safe, I helped her escape...she went east."

Irene...[I]my[/I] Irene. She was here.

"I'm burning this place. People here don't like admitting what's wrong anymore," Janine stated, shaking her head, "They'll keep doing it, people will keep watching, they'll make up stories, they'll modify characters of stories to their liking. Like, take your favorite book, with your favorite hero, and they'll skew the story so that the hero's world and actions mimics this town's world and actions. It ruins a good book, it ruins a good story, it ruins everyone's character."

"Yeah...I really hate that."

Janine laughed and said, "You said that already...like a million times. Come on, follow me."

"What do I help you with?"

"You need to escape, and disappear. That's all. I can handle this. So go."

"But hey--"

"GO DAMMIT!"

Janine shoved me away...and so I ran out. I ran out of there. I didn't say my good-byes...not even to my old friends because they've turned into one of them. I kept on running...I'm not one of them, and I never was. It's funny though, how those people have more allies than I do.

Behind me, I heard a loud roar of fire, and a bright light engulfed the whole land...



[B][U]The Short Memory[/U][/B]

The next room was completely empty, except for a stage in the middle of the room, and a piano that rested upon it, where a violin rested on its bench.

I remembered Irene.

[I]"You can't describe music. You can't really describe your experience with it....it's impossible."

"Sure it's possible," I said, "You just say, 'it made me feel good.' There...easy."

"No...no it's more than that Jake. Listen to them play, listen...you...you can't possibly feel what I'm feeling when I hear this piece. And...I can't explain it to you, you won't understand."

"Irene...what are you feeling?"

And she just quietly replied, "Peace."[/I]

If that's what music is like...then Irene...you are my music.

............I should have told her that.



[B][U]Earnest Contemplations[/U][/B]

There was this one conversation I had with her. Well....I'm having a hard time retelling it. Do something useful for a change Author and why don't you tell it? I'll just sit here for a while.......

[i]"I'm sorry Irene. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Don't say that again Jake. Please don't say that again."

"Sorry."

"I don't want to hear you talking like that. It scares me," she bit her lower lip, holding back the tears that were screaming to fall.

"I didn't mean it I promise," Jake was feeling guilty now, he didn't want to see her cry.

"Don't you believe that I care about you?" Irene muttered, looking away from him so that he wouldn't have to see her flooding eyes.

"Of course I do Irene. I do."

"But why can't I believe you?"

"Just believe me," .....there was a long silence, and once again, Jake murmured, "I'm sorry Irene."[/i]

Why did I say those things? Now I'm afraid I'll never see Irene again, I'll never see her......

I said to her that day, "I wonder what people will do if I die? I wonder how many of them will cry, I wonder how many will be there, I wonder if any of them will scream, or if any of them will feel guilty. I wish I could find out somehow."

Well...don't let that happen to me yet Author. Not now. Not yet. I still have things to do. I'm gonna keep going and I'm gonna find her somewhere, but keep me alive. Sorry.

Why the hell did I say those things?

I'm no good. Why me? Why now?

Author at least do something for me...watch over me in this nightmare, also give me a sane mind if you can, and make sure that I'm the kind of character that just keeps going on. I'm supposed to make up the story right? Well, I'm the protagonist, I'm looking for Irene...give me some sort of strength at least, make me a [frikkin] hero....

Please.

Okay............just go to sleep now.



[U][B]Sulking Cry Baby[/B][/U]


If you sit there, Jake, contemplating on every portion of your life....its past, its present, its future....if you just sit there...nothing's gonna happen. You'll be sitting there, nothing taking any shape or form.

I know, I know....but I can't right now...I'll get up...I'll get up later. I need to...I want to lie down.

Tiny, small little things......compress you? Into something, tiny and small as well? Why?

It compresses me, smashes me.....like when you take playdough, shape it into a ball, then slowly press onto it, and it becomes flat, the sides expand...and it becomes nothing but a flaccid piece of playdough. I'm a flaccid piece of playdough right now. I'm just gonna dry up.

Jake, those are little things, don't take them seriously...get up...do [I]something[/I].

Hell...I can't.....man. This ceiling....looks nice. It looks almost like the sky.

This is going no where.

I know this guy, his name was Erik Satie. She said he composed this. She said his name was Erik Satie. Do me a favor....thank Erik Satie for making this song. I feel calm when I listen to it. I'm gonna stay here for a while...lying here like a piece of unfolded origami....like idle origami.



[B][U]The Monster's Name Was Jez Andra Belle[/U] [/B]

[I]Part I[/I]

Hey....I thought I told you already. I don't wanna talk for myself no more, at least not right now.....I'm done for now. I'm tired. Real tired.

[I]Okay[/I]

The road was called "No Where in Particular," and he travelled down this road, by himself, wondering if it would take him somewhere, despite of its name. This couldn't be a life of his, it wasn't real, somewhere along the way, a huge hand will come out of the dust and slap him hard enough for him to wake up from this nightmare. Maybe the tremors from where the hand would emerge out of the dirt will be enough to wake him up.

His feet continued to take him along the road, until he saw a building off at the side.

[B][FONT=Arial]THE SHRINK'S OFFICE[/FONT][/B], it said in bright bold letters....a small building, with an oversized sign, and Jake seemed a bit creeped out by its appearance. A shrink's office huh? Why give it that name? It was obvious that it was Jake's purpose to make a visit, because it stood out and demanded his attention, so with one wipe of the nose, he pulled himself toward the building.

He opened the door, bells ringing, and stepped inside, and as soon as he came in, the secretary at the desk asked, "Are you Jake?"

He answered in question, "Yeah?"

"She'll see you now."

"Huh?"

"Through that door please," and the secretary pointed him to a door next to the frontdesk.

There was enough room for puzzlement....and plenty of time to waste time at the office, so he shrugged and proceeded onward. He entered the office....

"Hello Jake."

A wave of shock overtook him and he exclaimed, "What the hell! It's you! You're a shrink too??"

"I've always been a 'shrink' as you say....anyway I like the term psychologist better. But just call me by my name. I'm more of your friend now, than any of those terms," she smiled.

"Janine, it's me....Jake. Don't you remember me?"

She tapped the tip of her pencil against her chin and looked off to the right side murmuring, "I don't recall ever meeting you."

"Oh come on, in the city? You torched it, and um, when I was walking down the street you were a little girl...or, I met a little girl named Janine, I swear it was you."

"Well we don't have enough time Jake, I wanna talk to you about the source of your problems," she said, looking straight at him.

"Hm? Problems? Oh you mean other than me being stuck in this real life Dali painting?"

"Hmm...right," she stood out of her seat and suddenly took him by the shoulders saying, "Actually, I want to warn you Jake, it's very important."

"What?"

"Your mother, she's in danger, you have to save her. In minutes, someone is going to kill her and take over her life....she's a type of spirit, a monster that lives in other peoples' bodies, and feeds on their minds until she has complete control...you have to save your mother!" Janine exclaimed with a bit of hysteria.

"My mom, why would someone kill my mom?" Jake felt confused.

"There's no time, go find her, the one who is going to kill your mother. Her name is Jez Andra Belle."

"Alright."

And Jake immediately left, exiting the office, suddenly finding himself in familiarity...his hometown. And a single image flashed in his mind....his mother crumbled into a pile of ashes and disappeared forever.

Hurrying, Jake sprinted home.


[U]Part II[/U]

"Mom?" this was my home, "Is everything alright?" she didn't look like she was in any trouble. She looked perfectly fine, so what could Janine be talking about?

She smiled at me, greeted me, hugged me, just like the mom I knew, and yeah, what's so wrong about loving your mother? That it'll make you look like a...a sissy? I could use another word, but I have a feeling that someone would blot it out anyway, so why bother? I didn't see a monster, there was no Jez Andra Belle. Just my mother, just my mom.

Just as she had been for the last....

"Fifteen years, sixteen years maybe? Actually make that twenty years minus five to six years. Jez Andra Belle feasted on your mother's mind for almost five years."

That was Janine's voice, but I didn't see her around, she was no where to be seen. Dammit....I'm definitely losing it. I don't see anything wrong with her, so why should I do anything?

"Jake don't you have somewhere to go? Don't you have to go to school?" my mother asked me, looking at me....but, her eyes weren't looking, they were staring at something else. It was strange, because she was standing there obviously not really paying attention to me, as if her eyes revealed that her mind was somewhere else other than here. She forgot to lock those windows, I guess, because I could see right through them.

"No Mom. Not right now. Actually, I'm kinda hungry..."

"I'll cook you something right now," she smiled...but I could have given that same smile on any given day....I never really smile, and I only smile when I'm faking it, when I feel that I have to smile just to be polite, just to satisfy social expectations. My mom smiled that way.

"No I'll do it."

Her phone rang, and she immediately looked at it, checking to see who had called, and with a quiet tone, she said, "Hm. That's weird, who's this?"

Wow......amazing....what an act. And still it wasn't enough to win the academy award for the worse leading actress.

She gave me that smile again and said, "So you're gonna cook?"

"Yeah Mom. I'll make some eggs or something."

"You know I wonder when your dad's gonna come home. He said he'd come home early today," she started walking away, "I think I'll call him, because we're supposed to go pick up the curtains today."

Mom...never called Dad. I wonder...if all of those times she called Someone Else, she knew that I was standing at the otherside of the closed door, whether it was a bathroom door, or a closet door. Jez Andra Belle.....get out of my mom's head. Get out now.

No...I won't believe it. She would never let someone like that get in her head. It must have been the other person that put her in there while she was sleeping.

She came home one day, and I noticed something strange on her, "Mom what's that? Is that a rash? Lemme see."

"Uh yeah, it's a rash, don't worry about it," she said, repeatedly rubbing at the red-purplish spot on her neck just to conceal it from view, "I'll put some ointment on it, it'll be all better."

"What kind of rash is it?"

"A rash."

And she hid herself inside of her own room...again. She's still the same person...and don't tell me otherwise!

[I]So you're going to let Jez live inside of her mind, is that it?[/I]

There is no Jez A. Belle. There's only the other person. The person on the otherside of that phone, that phone that's become a part of my mom's frikkin' hand and ear. If there IS a Jez......she was placed inside of my mom's head. HE did it. I'll find him, I'll kill him, I'll strangle him, I'll plant his skull into the asphalt....then Jez'll die, then he'll die, and my mom could be herself again.

Don't worry Mom I'll save you....Irene can wait.



Perpetuating Night

There is no Part III is there? It's a locked door isn't it? Is this the only plot I can't advance? Can't I make it up?

Leave it alone. You can't go in there. It hasn't happened yet.

It will....all I need to do is make it happen. I can't let her get consumed by that thing.

You're tired. I can see it. You need to sleep now. Wake up later.

I can't sleep. Not now. Why should I sleep? What am I gonna wake up to? I won't wake up home, but I'm gonna wake up in this nightmare which I can't seem to escape. It's everywhere it's all around me. I'm making this story up and I say I'm going through that door.

Jake...go to sleep.

If I sleep, will I wake up home? Or will I still be here in this same place? I'm stuck here ya know. If I sleep, then make me sleep forever so I wouldn't have to wake up here again. What scares me is if I have to wake up in this place, having to go on and make up everything. And having to know that I'll be doing this for the rest of my life? Hell, I don't even know if the memories I'm having are real.

I have no companions now....no Irene. She's lost, and I can't find her. I can't find Irene. It seems like I'll never find Irene.

You will.

Please don't make me sleep.

What's the point? You're still going to be here. Endure it.

You don't understand.....it's the waking up part that I hate. It's waking up, realizing that you're still here. That I'm still here. You understand now? It's the waking up that I hate. I hate this....where the hell am I? Can't I go home now? Can't I go home?

"Jake. Don't cry. I'll help you."

"Janine? You again."

"Even in this place, you still need rest."

"It's like night isn't it? Even though it's day. It feels like nighttime. The darkest of nights."

"Figuratively or literally?"

"I don't know...maybe both?"

"Jake. You're being cared for. You don't see it, but you are, and you need your rest. Don't be afraid to wake up. Okay?"

.........okay....if you say so.




Jake and the Obstacle

Hours and hours pass as he rested where he was, sound asleep, and unmoving, easily mistaken for an old gray corpse abandoned on the street. Luckily for Jake, no cars passed through here, no vehicles of any sort. It was just him and the asphalt, slumbering together....possibly at night. And Jake finally awakens.

"Only because you were talking too loud. I'm still here aren't I?"

Yes you are.

"Where IS 'Here' anyway? I'll bluntly say it. This is so weird."

Janine suddenly said, "You like to repeat things don't you? If you haven't realized that things have been weird for the past few chapters, then you must be pretty stupid."

It was her as I had met her the first time, and for some reason, she seemed to recognize who I was. To tell you the truth, I felt extreme relief. A whole $(*%load of relief....and you'll never seem to agree to type out my actual words instead of replacing them with a string of symbols and characters huh?

"And you like thinking to yourself too," she uttered.

"You seem to be the only thing I can't control. Actually, I don't think I've ever controlled anything up to this point," I was getting frustrated. I could give you a long drawn out explanation on the physiology of being frustrated, the characteristics of being frustrated, but I'm sure you have been frustrated before...do I really need to explain it to you?

"Alright, alright. I guess things haven't really been fair. You can't control me, I'm sort of like, the author's 'espionage'....keeping things in check, helping you move along," she flashed me her largest grin and played imaginary hopscoth again.

"So, in the previous chapters...were you only pretending to forget that we ever met?"

Giggling, Janine answered, "Maybe, maybe not."

"#(@*."

"What?"

"Never mind," I'm annoyed with you right now. No no, never mind I take that back.

"Yes because she could erase you, and wipe you off the face of the earth if you make her really mad."

Mindreader.

"Yeah I'm afraid so," Janine laughed again.

"Yeah," I'm getting out of here, "well...I'm going to leave now. I'll see you in the next chapter."

"Wow, what's that?"

I don't know. There was this huge boulder blocking my path, and suddenly, I was stuck in this ravine, with this boulder sitting in front of me. What now? What's going on? How was I supposed to move forward with this in my way?

"Author! Hey author!" I shouted to the heavens as loud as I could, hearing my echoes skip from wall to wall, "GET THIS BOULDER OUTTA MY WAY!"

There was no answer. Only silence replied.

"Uh oh, this isn't good," Janine said, scratching her head, "You can't move forward right now. You might have to wait here for a while."

"Why? What's going on?"

"It's obvious Jake. This is symbolism screaming out at you. You're going down a path, now you're stuck in a ravine, and you can't move forward because this boulder is blocking your way. Literally, this is the writer's block."

"Damn writer's block. That probably means she's giving up on me."

"I wouldn't blame her....you're sitting here, lying here, lying or sitting anywhere always complaining and reminiscing about Irene and life," Janine started to taunt me, and her stinging criticism hurt like salt on a paper cut...however the hell that was supposed to feel like, "Maybe I should narrate. 'Jake sits on a cold cold stone, and thinks about nothing. Jake mopes around all day. Jake sits on his chair, doing nothing....again.' Geez Jake, I don't know how someone advances a plot by just sitting there."

As much as I hate to admit...Janine was [frikkin] right....DAMMIT.

Frustrating. I looked up through the slit where the ravine walls met in the sky and shouted, "I MIGHT AS WELL STOP CURSING...SHE HATES IT WHEN I CURSE!"

Janine gave out a ring of her famous giggles once again and said, "See? Isn't that what I told you from the very beginning?"

For a while, having this version of Janine with me provided some comic relief, and just relief in general...but when the rainclouds suddenly rolled in, she disappeared...as if the raindrops melted her figure away. I'm here, alone again, with this boulder blocking my path. Amazing...how things just vanish faster than a blink of an eye....faster than the persistence of my own thoughts.

It feels heavy down here, with the rainclouds bawling on me, with this thing in front of me. I don't feel like moving onward.

Hey, you wouldn't believe this...but I want to hear her voice again. Not Janine's, not Irene's...but the author's.



[B][U]Jake Encounters Damion[/U][/B]

I'm starting to suspect that every character here mirrors some sort of identity...one component of the "authorial" identity. It makes me wonder who I am, what my role is. Am I her main identity?

Reminds me of this one movie I watched...where the guy battles all of his identities until the prostitute is left...but then the evil boy at the end takes over. Whoops....ruined the ending. Maybe you know what movie I'm talking about, maybe not.


I walked into a teahouse...and people were there...amazing...souls in sight...it was almost comforting. But everything seemed so black and white, as if I was staring into a black and white picture.

Where am I, by the way? This looks almost like an old-fashioned Japanese teahouse. It wasn't complete though. Some things were missing.

Damion sits at a table next to where I was standing...and I sit with him. Why?

"Hey," I whispered to him, "I feel like I know you."

"Do you? Do I know you?"

"I know that your name is Damion...at least you seem like a Damion."

"Am I alive? Or am I a character that's alive because of the author's inspiration? Am I driving this story or is the author doing it?"

"Certainly, the author perpetuates your existence...you are nothing but lines on paper, or pixels on a computer screen whether in the form of letters compiled into words then meaningful sentences, or lines joined in a sketch of your person...that's my theory."

Is that what I am? I'm not a living creature...crap.

"I am very much alive," I had to persuade him, "describe me and materialize me."

"If I do, the way this reader sees you will not be the same as the one who originally described you."

Here...I sit...Damion making me believe that I'm some sort of robot in the form of lines and....and pixels. I can't have it. I won't have it.

"I am alive. Tangibly, maybe not, but I am very much alive. I assume that the reader now has an image of me whoever Jake is, in their minds," this was amusing, "you can say that we've succeeded in intruding their minds."

Damion ordered a tea, a green tea, and he sat back in his seat, and crossed one leg over the other...like someone dignified and of higher class. Maybe Damion's role in this whole plot is being a #*$&ing prick.

"Interesting," he uttered, "others in this sad sad story simply give up and deny their existence...or they don't acknowledge that they do exist. Except you."

"How about you?"

"I'm guilty of denying," he looked downward, "for years I've denied...and allowed myself to be beaten by her cruel renditions of me. According to this footnote, however," he pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to me, "I understood what I really am."

In her handwriting it said:

Damion, in truth, is a
representative of a segment
of my past. His circumstances
and situation and personality,
obviously meshed up into one
entity. Part of me is in
him, his experiences are not
directly experienced by me...
in some ways. He also
represents some of my oldest
desires.

"I see," I folded up the piece of paper and returned it to him.

"I'm not too far from what others indulge themselves in, others in this particular community, that is."

"Where are we anyway?" I need to leave, to tell you the truth, I was creeped out.

"Yes...last time we had left you, a large boulder was obstructing your path. I've been sent here to help you get passed it."

"Hey," none of this is making any sense, and none of the sentences were connecting, "What do you mean? When you said 'I am not too far from what others indulge themselves in'?"

"Take a look at me Jake. Tell the readers who I am."

"Okay?" well...Damion...was a man. A young man, slender build...wait, wait,"I can't. I'm staring at you...I feel awkward making up a detailed explanation of you."

"Alright then. I'll forget the tea and help you with your boulder now."

"Okay."

And so we left...I left the teahouse with Damion. We left the town named Emina.

Janine whisepered to me, to you, "Spell it backwards."[/FONT]