The Antidote to the Intoxicating Poison

The Antidote to the Intoxicating Poison

“Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!” A rowdy group of rebellious teenagers chant to the influenced teenage boy with a bottle of vodka. He looks from side to side, confused and afraid. They continue chanting and the pressure on his shoulders becomes to heavy for him to bear. The clear, water-like, alcohol pours down his throat like the tears that simultaneously run down his face. The liquid is disgusting and tastes like slow-acting poison.

He reaches the halfway point and feels both sick and some what victorious. The crowd begins to cheer, encouraging him to go on. He does, beginning to believe that maybe what he is doing isn't so bad. His stomach expands with the entrance of the unfamiliar liquid and rejects it, but finds itself powerless to fight against it. Only a quarter of the bottle remains and the boy begins to feel slightly dizzy. The voices around him begin to be filled with awe, but there's a hint of fear coming from a girl at the back of the crowd.

Her name is Hailey Duff. That boy chugging his life away is her best friend. She knows that this is going to end badly but, like his stomach, is powerless to fight the poison that he is ingesting.

“Jake!” She calls out to him, pushing her way through the crowd only to find him finishing the bottle. He pulls it from his lips and burps loudly, causing the crowd to roar in celebration and praise. He looks down and his eyes meet hers for a moment, but their connection is cut off by the engulfing mass of teenagers around him.

She takes a step back, knowing that she'll never get through the crowd. Inside of the chaotic crowd, the increasingly dizzy Jake tries to find his way to Hailey, but is trapped deep inside of it. Everyone congratulates him, and makes him feel lost and confused instead of happy and victorious. His vision begins to blur. The hundred faces around him become unrecognizable and he manages to begin to pass through the thick swarm as the excitement around him dies down.

“Jake! Are you okay?” Hailey asks, sounding terrified as she hugs him tightly. She can smell the vodka off of his body, not just his breath and that worries her further.

After recovering from Hailey's sudden attack, Jake pulls away and looks at her incredibly clear face. “Hailey...” He says in a drunken, yet somber, tone. He runs his hand through her brown-blonde hair, staring deep into her green eyes. “You know, you're the only girl I know with green eyes!”

Hailey gives him a weird look, then realizes that the vodka is already beginning to infect him with the poison of alcoholic behaviour. “Come on, Jake. We're leaving. I have to keep you away from those boys; they're just going to kill you with all of this drinking.” She stops to think. “Shit. They took my keys. Let's go find an empty room instead.”

The drunken Jake shakes his head in response. “No... I wanna enjoy my first party...” The smell of alcohol chokes Hailey and Jake slips into the crowd, taking another guy's beer as he disappears from her sight.

“Jake? Jake!” The worried friend calls out to him in a panic, but she's ignored by the thoughtless boy. The thought of losing him enters her mind as tears form in her eyes. A boy who is strangely uncaring, yet very good at pretending that he does care, sees this from across the room and decides to make his move.

“Hey, what's wrong?” He asks, thinking that the way into a girl's pants is through her pain that is caused by another guy. He fakes compassion well, as she believes that he does.

“I'm just worried about Jake and he won't listen to me.” She tells him, looking deep into the crowd, searching for her wayward friend. The guy puts his hand on her shoulder to give the impression that he actually cares.

“A girl as pretty as you shouldn't be worrying about some guy who doesn't even care.” He says, revealing more about his own character than he initially intended. “Here, drink this. It'll calm you down.” He offers her his drink, knowing that alcohol will damage her ability to make proper decisions.

She pushes the bottle away. “I don't drink.” She tells the foiled and self-proclaimed 'player'. She looks at him and pushes his hand off of her shoulder. “I have to go.” She says and then disappears into the crowd in order to find Jake, leaving the 'player' with a game over.

Jake, at this point, is beginning to feel sick and puts down the beer, only to knock it over with his next drunken step, spilling the beer all over the floor. He feels vomit coming up his throat and rushes to the bathroom, bumping into Hailey along the way. They say nothing, but she understands what is going on and swiftly leads him to the bathroom. For a moment, it seems as if he's not going to make it to the bathroom but, thanks to Hailey, he makes it.

Worried for his well being, Hailey makes a decision. “I'm calling your parents.” She tells him as he throws up his stomach contents. He shakes his head in protest, but the vomit silences him. Hailey pulls out her cell phone and dials his home phone number. It rings but no one pick it up. Understanding the danger that her best friend is in, she makes an even larger and quicker decision, valuing the life of Jake above anything else.

The phone begins to ring and someone picks up. “911, what is your emergency?” Hailey hesitates for a moment to reply to the operator, knowing that she's about to kill the party.

“I'm at a party on Dilitrio Road. My friend drank way too much and I'm seriously worried that he won't even survive the night.” She tells the operator in a fit of panic, no longer caring about the party in the slightest.

“We'll send every available person there. They should be there within ten minutes. Stay with him until then.” The operator tells Hailey, who is suddenly overwhelmed with the thought that Jake might not have ten minutes.

“Please hurry.” Hailey tells her and then hangs up her phone, looking over at the vomiting boy. She begins to think about all of the time that they've shared together; they've been best friends since they were four. She's always had him and was always honest with him. There's only one thing she has ever kept hidden from him, and it is starting to eat at her heart. She's starting to believe that this might be the end for them.

Jake suddenly collapses on the floor, unconscious. Hailey rushes to him and begins to cradle his limp body, tears running down her face. She holds his head to her heart so that maybe it could tell him how she feels. The world slows down and becomes dreadfully silent except for the heartbreaking sob of Hailey's.

The silence is interrupted by a sudden yelling. “Cops! Out the back door!” Hailey prays that it is not too late. She hears the front door slam open and boot rush across the floor, searching the house desperately.

“I found them!” An officer yells back to the others as he stands in the doorway with a bright light behind him. He looks down at Hailey. “We'll take it from here.”

Paramedics in white uniforms rush into the bathroom, carrying a stretcher. They take Jake out of Hailey's arms and put him onto the stretcher, and then proceed to check for a pulse. “He's alive.” One of them says before they wheel him away from her. The officer comes over and kneels beside her.

“What happened?” He questions her, both doing his job and showing a legitimate care for her and Jake. She looks up at him and takes a deep breath, still afraid to death for Jake's life.

“He was surrounded by a large group who were telling him to chug a full bottle of vodka. Eventually, he gave in... It happened less than an hour ago...” She tells him between sobs. “Is he going to be okay?”

“He should be fine, thanks to you.” He assures her, and then continues on with his duties. “What's his name and what's your name?” He asks her, ready to write it down so that the parents can be notified that their children are alright.

“His name's Jake Pollitt, and I'm Hailey Duff. Can I go with him?” She asks, wiping tears from her eyes. The police officer wishes he could say yes, but knows that he has no say in the matter.

“I wish you could, but the paramedics will only allow family to accompany him. Sorry.” He apologizes to her after explaining his own powerlessness to help her. She nods at him to show that she understands, and he figures out a way that he might actually be able to help her a little. “Give me your number. I'll drive you home and then go check on him. When he's feeling well enough, I'll have him call you. Okay?”

The care that the officer showed makes Hailey smile a little. “Sounds good... Thanks...” She says rather quietly, yet in an excited tone. The officer smiles back and driver her home. He promises again to get Jake to call her as soon as possible and then leaves for the hospital.

Hailey runs upstairs to her room and lies on her bed, waiting for the phone to ring. An hour goes by and it doesn't ring, making Hailey worry even more, but sleep overpowers her and she falls asleep.

She is woken up nine hours later by her cell phone's ring tone. At first she goes to ignore the call, being as tired as she was, but then remembers the night before and rushes to answer the phone.

“Hello?” She says into the receiver excitedly, praying that Jake is on the other line.

“Hailey! They told me all about how you took care of me and how you saved my life!” Jake's lively voice explodes across the line, making Hailey jump for joy in her bedroom.

“I wasn't going to lose you like that.” She tells him, being as honest as she can be with him. “It was nothing! Really!” Deep down inside, she feels as if it was her duty to save him.

“Well it really means a lot. Thanks. You're the best.” He tells her sincerely, being as honest as can be. “Shall we celebrate?” He says with a chuckle.

“I thought you would have learned your lesson.” Hailey says with a moan, thinking that he intends on drinking again.

“I meant a movie.” He replies, correcting her. A thought enters her mind, but she pushes it away.

“With who?” She asks, desperately praying for a very particular answer.

“Just the two of us.” He tells her, hinting at something.

“Like a date?” Hailey asks, incredibly excited. Perhaps something good came out of that party after all.

“No. A date.”

-Zero

---------------------------------

Quick note: I had the strangest inspiration for this story. It just came to me as if I had to write it. The Greeks believed that some writing was divinely inspired and after this, I wouldn't blame them.

Never Lost is this Forgotten Thought (Poem)

Never lost is this forgotten thought,

Living as someone who would never be caught,

She with eyes as dark as night,

Being chased by a man of light.

He, with a life without love,

Spending his time writing of

Dark ideas that twist his dreams,

And drive him towards his queen.

The truth of it all is insanity,

But truly can it be,

This driven love from one to the other,

Which is separating them altogether.

He chases her like she is game,

But she is not his source of fame,

He is the source of her passion,

Both are surviving with compassion.

But no amount of passion could save

The impending doom that God gave,

It is the end of the two lovers,

Her beauty dimming like the ending summer.

-Zero

Truth Hurts (original song)

I think about all of the things that you did,

I think about all of the things that you said,

And I realized,

Yeah, I realized,

That none of it meant a thing.

I've taken this fall too many times,

I can' remember when I lost my mind,

But I can't wait to see your smile again.

I love you,

And I know it's true,

But your smile gives me the blues.

It's a nightmare,

And I can't wake up.

I've fallen in this hole,

And I can't get up.

Something tells me to forget you,

But my heart tells me that it's true.

I've taken this fall too many times,

I can' remember when I lost my mind,

But I can't wait to see your smile again.

I love you,

And I know it's true,

But your smile gives me the blues.

I think about all of the things that you did,

I think about all of the things that you said,

And I realized,

Yeah, I realized,

That none of it meant a thing.

I've taken this fall too many times,

I can' remember when I lost my mind,

But I can't wait to see your smile again.

I love you,

And I know it's true,

But your smile gives me the blues.

I've taken this fall too many times,

I can' remember when I lost my mind,

But I can't wait to see your smile again.

I love you,

And I know it's true,

But your smile gives me the blues.

I love you,

And I know that it's true.

Soon, though, you'll be mine,

And I'll regain my mind.

----------------------------------------------------

This was actually written a month or so back, and I just remembered about it. I actually spent a good while looking for it before realizing that it was right in front of me all along. 

I'm still figuring out that dream of mine. So far it looks like the death of an old aspect of my life, which I think is the obsession that I once had. It would make sense because it was her, the night-eyed girl, who I was hopelessly protecting. Now I believe that I cannot help her much more; her path is entirely her own.

-Zero

Justice and Forgiveness (Non-Fiction)

     Truly the theory involving my writing during school has been proven wrong so far. I just can't seem to create anything remotely close to a plot right now. Perhaps it is not the plot that is the problem, but rather the inspiration for me to write. I haven't sat at my desk in a week, I believe. It's a guilty feeling that I feel inside of me in response to that. As a writer, I should devote myself further than this, but clearly I am not.
     Right now I have been focused on questions of faith, which may manifest themselves into some strange sort of story, but seem to restrain me for the meantime. Thoughts about Socrates and his dialogues about justice are intriguing right now. They're something that correspond with the thoughts that I had before I began Plato's Republic. You can see this in "Justice" which is one of my earlier stories. I believe it is actually the first post on the blog.
     I have always wondered constantly about moral issues, such as the varying definitions of justice. I was never taught the concept of revenge as a positive, but neither did I attend church to be taught to forgive. But I dare say that beliefs have found their way into my mind. I have been told before that I need to forgive others, but mostly forgive myself. There are burdens that I carry upon my shoulders, things that I dare not mention. The more that I allow these burdens to weigh me down, the more that I will slow in my pace. My goal is getting closer, but slower and slower everyday. Despite my burden, I have found faith.
     I do not believe in a literal god, but I am not an Atheist. Through the darkness of the world, I do see a light. Perhaps it is just a candle in the storm, but it is still a light. I do not believe that my path is the only path to take, but rather that everyone has their own paths. This path is right for me, but it may not be right for you. We live our lives, shifting in and out of reality, some more than others. Reality has become less defined as time passes and as we learn the truth of it. What we see, what we hear, what we smell and what we feel are not necessarily real. Everyone experiences everything differently; therefore, reality is truly subjective. My reality is this faith of mine. God is not a real figure, but a figurative concept.
     What brought us to this world? Was it all just an accident? Do we even have a purpose? Perhaps science can make it seem very depressing, but I know that even if we are an accident, even if we don't have a purpose set in stone for us, we can affect the world around us. Consider Plato, Socrates, and Aristotle for a moment. Three seemingly ordinary men with lives that have both struggle and pleasure is what they are. It is through the exploration of themselves and others that they carved their names into history, despite the fact that they are 'ordinary men'.
     People have choice in their lives, and even if they cannot choose everything, they still have power. We have free will, just like Adam and Eve, referring back to the concept of God. To take such a story literal might be a little confusing if you consider that God is all-powerful, yet he chose to make creatures in his image that he could not control. The snake that tempts them is let into the garden by God, merely to allow them to choose. They chose their lives and how they would live it, so why can't we? They are not quite different from us. We both face temptation, evil, and the endless darkness, but there is still good left to hold on to. From this, I have found that the darkness will dominate the majority of the world, but both light and life can survive through it.
     Though sometimes I feel as if I'm more afraid of the light then I am of the dark. Too long have I tried to keep myself in line, only to find myself looking down and noticing that the line was lost long ago. Everything that I believed to be justified constantly found itself to be self-righteous, which brings me back to the idea of justice. To be self-righteous is to justify doing injustice to another, just as murdering a murderer is still murder. This brings me to think about a dream that I had the other night.
      The dream started off pleasant, but that didn't last long. I was with three other people. One of them was an older man than I, probably in his thirties. Two girls accompanied us, one of them being a small girl and the other was a beautiful girl my age. It was Italy, I believe. Stone roads, arches, and stone buildings occupied the area, which bordered on the coastline. It was a beautiful scene, but the madness would not stay hidden. A furious balding man was bounding around, threatening people with a loaded gun. We quickly found ourselves running away, hiding behind a building that had a nice view of the sea. I climbed down the small stone wall on to the sand just to make sure that I could. By the time I climbed back up, he was holding the girls at gun-point. I immediately knew that I had to do something, as if I was being forced to. The older girl pushes away the gun with her hand and the man gets even more angry, yelling that he would kill her faster now. This is the point that I struck his hands, attempting to get him to drop the gun.
     He doesn't drop the gun, and I back off, confused. He says that he's going to kill me instead now and I begin quickly swaying from side to side in a bad attempt to dodge the bullets that might come my way. He takes a shot and my brain tells me that my heart was pierced. I could feel the warmth of my blood spread throughout my chest, signalling my end. I began making my way toward him, unsure of what else I could do, but trying anyways. Another shot entered my side, and one more made it all go black.
     I woke up in a frenzy, feeling the warmth in my chest still. It has been a couple days, so I have given thought to what I might have done. Even if I had a gun or a knife, I don't think I could have been able to kill him in order to save another. I can't kill. I can come close, but I can't kill. Killing, as I've been told, is something that perhaps only someone without any beliefs at all might be able to do. The ten commandments say not to kill, but is it mentioned what would happen if someone breaks one of the commandments? Should death be a rightful punishment for someone, or should they forgive themselves for it? "Salvation is freely mine, and forgiveness is my own," as put by the poet who is shown in the video linked below. This quote is especially strong to me, as I feel the need to be forgiven and saved. Perhaps I shall forgive myself soon, but first I should probably learn from my mistakes. I shall leave you with this to think about for yourself. Farewell, till next time.

-Zero

Video Link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1IAhDGYlpqY

Into The Storm

Into The Storm

It was a dark and stormy night. No, not really, I’m just kidding around. It was actually mid-day, but you would think it was midnight. That’s just about how dark the clouds are; how deceitful they are. I pray to God for a second chance.

            This storm is strange and it’s not because of the seemingly endless rain and black clouds. It’s because of this strange gut feeling I have. Where is Noah when we need him? The rain pours down on the world like unrelenting gunfire and I think God might be the one shooting at us. But he would never do that, right?

            It’s not like we’re God’s forsaken children, not all of us at least; I’d say we’re Satan’s favorite children. I look at the world around me and see hate, ignorance and greed. Men rape, steal and murder everyday; they embrace sin. Selfishness and greed are the only ‘values’ that still exist; the lessons our savior tried to teach us are forgotten. But I haven’t forgotten.

            “Laura, dear, is something the matter?” My dear friend Anne asks me. I look at her and wonder if her famous ancestor had a world like this, but I don’t think Nazi Germany was this bad. I think this is as bad as it gets.

“The clouds… there’s something wrong.” I try to tell her, but my message is drowned by the hard heavy rain. I look back at the endless dark sprawled out in front of us. Something is wrong, but what is it?

            “Huh, well they’ll be off soon honey. They’re gonna cry themselves dry soon enough.” Cry themselves dry like everyone who cared about the world did. I hope she’s right, but know she isn’t. There’s no lightning in this storm, just endless rolling thunder. Am I really the only one who sees this? No one pays much attention to it; nobody seems to feel it. Has God forsaken them?

            I sigh. “”I’m going for a walk.” I get up and grab my coat. Anne grabs my arm and shakes her head.

            “You will do no such thing! It’s insanity out there!” She doesn’t understand the pull I’m feeling; I have to go. I shake my arm free and walk towards the door. The storm rages on.

            “I’ll call you later. Bye Anne.” I say, emotionless as I walk out the door. I won’t be calling her later, I’ll be busy. The rain drops strike me like a thousand lightning bolts as I walk to the woods I used to call home. It’s amazing I can even see where I’m going in this storm. It’s amazing I’m not lost, like everyone else.

            The woods are dark, but still have leaves of grass green shining in no light. I used to perform rituals here, before I found the lord. There’s a flash of white light, followed by a flash of crimson red. I close my eyes in shock and panic, knowing that when I open my eyes both dreams and nightmares will be standing in front of me.

            I open my eyes and surely enough, a creature of some sort is battling an angel. The creature has red skin, like dried blood and red eyes, red like fresh blood. It has large claws and demonic horns; I don’t want to see its teeth. The angel of course has white wings on its back and is a man with white battle armor. They’re locked in combat.

            I start cheering for the angel; no creation of Satan could ever defeat a creation of God. Yet they seem evenly matched, as if the battle would go on forever if I let it. I have to tip the balance if the angel is going to win!

            I pick up a stick on the ground and just stand there, doing nothing. What can I do? What if the demon turns and attacks me instead? I don’t want to die. I have two kids at home; they need me. I can’t sacrifice myself here just for some angel. Besides I’m sure he’ll be fine without me.

I throw the stick back to the ground with a thump. “I’m sorry, I won’t help you.” I begin to walk away, never looking back. You think God will be angry for this? I didn’t do anything so I think I should be fine.

            I cross over a stream that I don’t remember being there. Am I going the right way? I’ve got to be, the stream was probably made by all of the rain. Nothing looks familiar, am I lost? There’s no way I am, I went back the same way that I came in from.

            “You shouldn’t have left home.” A dark voice says, coming from everywhere at once.

            “Who are you?” I yell into the endless darkness. “Hello?”

            There’s no response, no sign of anyone. The smell of burning sulfur poisons my lungs and my eyes spot fire up ahead. “Hello? Is anybody there?” I yell out to nobody.

            “Come closer Laura.” He knows my name! How does he know my name?

            “How do you know who I am?” I yell back at him, wherever he is. I start to run towards the fire, which must be him. You know something’s wrong when it actually is.

“I have been watching you for quite a while. I applaud you for your good behavior.” Good behavior? Is he talking about how I don’t rape, steal or murder?

            I get to the fire. There’s nobody here. I hear a demon cry out in defeat in the distance, I guess the angel won. I knew he would prevail. “No you didn’t. You didn’t believe he would for a second.” The fire tells me, the voice emerging from it. “You left him there to die.”

            “Who are you?” He was right; I did leave him there to die. The flame flickers wildly, slowly taking a shape. It almost looks like a regular man, but has small demon horns and a demonic tail to match. He doesn’t need to say anything, I already know.

            “I’m your new landlord.” Before I can ask him what he means the ground shakes beneath me. There’s a flash of red. No, not another one! He’s going to kill me! God save me!

            The demon watches me, like he’s waiting for something before tearing me apart. There’s not going to be a hero. Then there’s a flash of white, the angel is back! He appears beside me. I turn to him and hug him. “Thank God you’re here! Save me from that beast!”

The angel pushes me to the side and steps away. “I’m sorry, I won’t help you.” He says to me, and then flies away. Satan starts laughing at me. Then the demon attacks.

            “You forgot the Golden Rule, human. I’ll see you later.” The flame vanishes but the laughter remains, echoing through the empty woods. The demon’s claws slice my chest, but all I can think about is how I forgot the most important rule.

            It carves a smile into me then, slices my neck in two.

            “Welcome to Hell, Laura. We’ve been waiting.” 

 -Zero

----------------------

This is actually a story I wrote last year for a competition, which I did not end up winning (there were quite a few silly mistakes that I made). Still, I'm surprised that I haven't posted it on here already. I figured that I ought to do that. Anyways, back to working on "The Beginning of The End!"
-Kuna Zero

Random Poem + Update

Untitled

Once again, I am alone.
Why was I a demon born?
Those who notice run in fear,
Leaving with me but a single tear.
Never again will I find real friends,
Too true, until I meet my end.

-Zero

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'll be totally honest with you here. This poem is yet another that I've written without really remembering it. I just found it in my notebook for such things, so I thought I'd share it with you because I haven't really been writing very much in all of my free time. I've actually been thinking about writing a script for a play, which is something I have not done before. I did it once for school, but that was a team project, so I do not count it entirely as my own. It did, however, turn out quite well. Anyways, I am going to start that and see if I get anywhere. Till next time,

-Kuna Zero

The Essence of Faith (Poem)

Little did I know,
The hidden truths were replaced not by lies,
But by the belief that the truths are not lies.

I wonder constantly what may come from this,
Questioning repeatedly the world around me,
But nothing has ever made more sense than this.

A mere suggestion from a friend can change it all,
Wash away doubt, and save you from the fall.
I see now how the truth works.
Without truth, we are blind,
But with faith, we can believe in each other.

If without truth we are blind, then love is the essence of faith.

-Zero

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'll be honest that this poem was not entirely my idea, in a sense. My former art professor, Stefan Fuchs, replied to my previous poem after I wrote "If without truth we are blind, then is love the essence of pretend?" He said "maybe love is the essence of faith." That's what sparked the inspiration of this poem. I respect him immensely, as he has been an inspiration to my own creative aspirations for the past few years. Ironically, he attended Bishop's University, which I intend on attending following my Liberal Arts program at Heritage College. Here's a link to his own blog, actually, so that you can learn more about him and see some of his own art work! http://srfuchs-art.com/ Enjoy! Till next time,
-Kuna Zero

The Essence of Pretend (Poem)

A torn man, I wander the night.

Thinking deeply, but feeling not.

I wonder if I should put up a fight,

Or let the harsh cold take over my heart.

I'm scared.

Too many times have I been hurt,

But without pain, I know no truth.

Fear controls me.

I hate myself for it,

Desperately grasping at what's no longer there.

I know no truth,

Or do I know it all?

My head hurts from the choices laid before me,

But without truth, I am blind, cannot see.

If one is blind without truth, then is love the essence of pretend?

-Zero

----------------------------------------------
 

Happy new years to all who may read this! I still have yet to figure out a new years resolution, and expect not to end up having one. With the coming of a new year, much has been set into motion. My mind has begun working again, pondering the infinite mysteries of my own life. Humans truly are complex and amazing creatures, but I'd be damned if I had to figure one out. Tonight, I clearly ponder the idea of love in my own life. Something strange happened by the end of this poem. A strange thought came across my mind, much like a random craving that a person might get for some god-forsaken meal. The thought, of course, was that of the blinding nature of love. If love blinds you, and if you're blind to the truth, then is love parallel to deceit. Is love even real, or just a fabrication of our own imaginations to allow ourselves a relief from the harsh reality of life? Perhaps I may think more upon this subject. It is a strange thing for me to begin thinking, considering my usual "pro-love" attitude. Who knows, this idea might just be my own way of dealing with the harsh reality of life! But it is much too late for me to continue writing right now, and I think I should head to bed. Till next time,

-Kuna Zero