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New Icons and an Updated Story. Enjoy.
Firstly, note my new icons! Well, 2/3 of them are new (that'd be...2. bwah!) One of them is used in this post! The other one is my default icon - she's Arumi from Magical Shopping Arcade Abenobashi. GOOD STUFF. And so is Azumanga Daioh, if you like your anime in forms of pure crack. So, I will no longer have to feel out of place when commenting on other people's journals, or writing happy posts. Because now I have happy icons. Go me.
Anyway. You may or may not remember the story I wrote last summer called "the devil made me do it." I revisited its plot in November, trying to lengthen it. But now, I've rewritten the entire short story. There are a lot of writing contests going on at the UW campus right now, and one of them is for "proving that Madison has a subculture" or something. I don't know. But I was told to "write my guts out," and I guess I tried. Here is the original.
Here is the renamed, rewritten version:
Discoloration
She closed the refrigerator door, dispelling the light in the kitchen. Her bare feet were cold from the tile, and she stood still for a moment, sipping her can of soda. She really didn’t want to sit down at her computer again. Jimmy was so…gloomy tonight. She was sick of talking to him when he got like this. He’d be talking to her normally, and every once in a while, all of a sudden, he would become disillusioned with every facet of his life. It was like an invisible hand would reach out and cut him down, bleeding his optimism out of him. But Jimmy didn’t really have anyone else to talk to. She was his friend. This was her job. He’d be over it tomorrow anyway, and then they could do something fun. She tread softly back to her bedroom, careful not to wake up her father, who was dozing in the armchair with the television on. She sat down in the chair, pulling her blanket around her shoulders. The air conditioning was always too cold at night, even on the hottest days. She was happy to note that Jimmy was still online. Sometimes he signed off if she said she had to leave to get something.
“Hi again,” he sent, after she told him she was back. “I think I’m going to go now, Lanie. Sorry for being such a bother, I know you get sick of talking to me like this. Goodbye, Lanie.” Lanie typed wait, but before she could send it, Jimmy had signed off. She stopped sipping her can of soda mid-swig. The carbonated liquid swam between her mouth and the can while the cold metal pushed her lips in an unnatural shape. The entire conversation was draining, but the seemingly normal last sentence in had Lanie scared. Jimmy always ended their conversations by saying, “Good night, Lanie.” It would probably seem trivial to anyone else, but Lanie and Jimmy had been talking online for years and parts of their conversations were ritual. They had even had a conversation about saying good night instead of goodbye. It wasn’t as final, and it made the receiver feel like the conversation would continue the next day.
She set the can on the desk and rested her head on her hands, staring at the monitor. Usually, she could cheer Jimmy up when he got hopeless. Even stupid jokes could bring him back, and even though they were talking through computers, she knew when she was smiling. They’d known each other since first grade, and knew everything there was to know about each other.
The computer emitted an eerie blue light into the darkness of her bedroom, bathing her face. Heart slipping, she realized that there was nothing she could do. It was after 1:00 in the morning, and waking his parents up would cause a lot of unnecessary problems. What if tonight’s the night? What if tonight’s the night he can’t take it any more, and you’re the only one who knows? She winced, feeling her eyes get hard. He’s not going to do that. Jimmy wouldn’t do that…he promised me he wouldn’t.
She shut the computer down, turned off the light, and buried herself under the blankets on her bed. Her eyes opened, staring blankly in the darkness. There were no colors in the dark. She closed her eyes. Exhausted, she drifted into dreams of her best friend - laughing, joking, teasing. Hunched over his computer, typing dismal messages to her in the dark, tears rolling down his face.
Lanie woke up feeling awful, but she couldn't remember why. She recognized fear, and then remembered her conversation with Jimmy. Her clock told her it was 9:04 am. Jimmy's parents were at work. Lanie picked up the phone and dialed his number.
Ring. She pawed at the sleep in her eyes with the heel of her palm.
Ring. well it is only 9:00, maybe he's not even awake yet....
Ring. ...okay, he must have heard that one...
Ring. ...come on, Jimmy...
Ring. ...Jesus, pick up the damn phone...
“Hello!” Jimmy’s cheerful voice greeted her. “We're not able to come to the phone right now, so please leave your name and a message and we'll call you back. Have a nice day!” Lanie set the phone down. A sick feeling was starting to rise up in her throat. God, he probably just didn't hear the phone. Relax. She dressed, pulled her bike out of the garage, and made her way to Jimmy's house.
While pedaling, she tried to rationalize. He’s probably playing video games in the basement. He usually does that in the morning before he takes a shower. …But why wouldn’t he have answered the phone? The wind was relatively strong that morning. It was making water fall from her eyes. Finally, she reached his house. She ran to the door and pounded on it, trying to catch her breath. She listened, but could hear no one approaching the door. She pounded again, shouting, “Jimmy! Come on, open the door!” There was no answer. Lanie opened the screen door and knocked on the wooden door. Again, no answer. Without hesitation, she opened the door and walked in the house.
“Jimmy?” She walked slowly, not bothering to remove her sandals. All of the curtains and blinds were closed, so despite the bright sun outside, it was dark and gloomy in the house. Lanie found Jimmy's closed bedroom door and knocked once again. That lazy jerk…he’s probably still sleeping and was just too tired to answer the phone. But he couldn’t have slept through the doorbell!
“Jimmy, I know you have to be awake in there! Now come on and let me in!” There was no answer, so Lanie turned the knob and swung the door open.
“Alright, I’m coming in, Jimmy, and you’d better not be doing anything…weird….” She peered inside and heard her breath escape her mouth in a way that sounded like relief - there was Jimmy, curled up under the covers of his bed - the sheets slowly rising and falling with his breath. See? she told herself, he's fine, you made a big deal out of nothing and now everything's fine. She padded over to the side of his bed, ready to swat him over the head and wake him up so they could go play video games together. But then, she noticed a slight discoloration on part of the sheets. Spots of red, blemishing the pure white.
“Jimmy…” she breathed, and slowly peeled the sheet back to reveal a bloody mess that covered his clothes and the bedding, but mostly his arms. Someone had reached inside her and grabbed hold of her stomach, squeezing suddenly. And then punched her lungs, making her incapable of breathing. Her mind was screaming. She took a step back from the bed, trying to think, to figure out what she was supposed to do. Jimmy? This isn’t Jimmy… this isn't real, this is a dream, Jimmy's fine, this is a dream, this is a dream, it's a lie, this isn't my life! “Jimmy? Are you…awake?” Her tears were making her voice shake. A raspy breath escaped Jimmy’s mouth, and Lanie leaned closer. "Jimmy?”
“Lanie...” He held up his arms, showing her the deep lacerations in his skin. “...the devil made me do it.”
Anyway. You may or may not remember the story I wrote last summer called "the devil made me do it." I revisited its plot in November, trying to lengthen it. But now, I've rewritten the entire short story. There are a lot of writing contests going on at the UW campus right now, and one of them is for "proving that Madison has a subculture" or something. I don't know. But I was told to "write my guts out," and I guess I tried. Here is the original.
Here is the renamed, rewritten version:
Discoloration
She closed the refrigerator door, dispelling the light in the kitchen. Her bare feet were cold from the tile, and she stood still for a moment, sipping her can of soda. She really didn’t want to sit down at her computer again. Jimmy was so…gloomy tonight. She was sick of talking to him when he got like this. He’d be talking to her normally, and every once in a while, all of a sudden, he would become disillusioned with every facet of his life. It was like an invisible hand would reach out and cut him down, bleeding his optimism out of him. But Jimmy didn’t really have anyone else to talk to. She was his friend. This was her job. He’d be over it tomorrow anyway, and then they could do something fun. She tread softly back to her bedroom, careful not to wake up her father, who was dozing in the armchair with the television on. She sat down in the chair, pulling her blanket around her shoulders. The air conditioning was always too cold at night, even on the hottest days. She was happy to note that Jimmy was still online. Sometimes he signed off if she said she had to leave to get something.
“Hi again,” he sent, after she told him she was back. “I think I’m going to go now, Lanie. Sorry for being such a bother, I know you get sick of talking to me like this. Goodbye, Lanie.” Lanie typed wait, but before she could send it, Jimmy had signed off. She stopped sipping her can of soda mid-swig. The carbonated liquid swam between her mouth and the can while the cold metal pushed her lips in an unnatural shape. The entire conversation was draining, but the seemingly normal last sentence in had Lanie scared. Jimmy always ended their conversations by saying, “Good night, Lanie.” It would probably seem trivial to anyone else, but Lanie and Jimmy had been talking online for years and parts of their conversations were ritual. They had even had a conversation about saying good night instead of goodbye. It wasn’t as final, and it made the receiver feel like the conversation would continue the next day.
She set the can on the desk and rested her head on her hands, staring at the monitor. Usually, she could cheer Jimmy up when he got hopeless. Even stupid jokes could bring him back, and even though they were talking through computers, she knew when she was smiling. They’d known each other since first grade, and knew everything there was to know about each other.
The computer emitted an eerie blue light into the darkness of her bedroom, bathing her face. Heart slipping, she realized that there was nothing she could do. It was after 1:00 in the morning, and waking his parents up would cause a lot of unnecessary problems. What if tonight’s the night? What if tonight’s the night he can’t take it any more, and you’re the only one who knows? She winced, feeling her eyes get hard. He’s not going to do that. Jimmy wouldn’t do that…he promised me he wouldn’t.
She shut the computer down, turned off the light, and buried herself under the blankets on her bed. Her eyes opened, staring blankly in the darkness. There were no colors in the dark. She closed her eyes. Exhausted, she drifted into dreams of her best friend - laughing, joking, teasing. Hunched over his computer, typing dismal messages to her in the dark, tears rolling down his face.
Lanie woke up feeling awful, but she couldn't remember why. She recognized fear, and then remembered her conversation with Jimmy. Her clock told her it was 9:04 am. Jimmy's parents were at work. Lanie picked up the phone and dialed his number.
Ring. She pawed at the sleep in her eyes with the heel of her palm.
Ring. well it is only 9:00, maybe he's not even awake yet....
Ring. ...okay, he must have heard that one...
Ring. ...come on, Jimmy...
Ring. ...Jesus, pick up the damn phone...
“Hello!” Jimmy’s cheerful voice greeted her. “We're not able to come to the phone right now, so please leave your name and a message and we'll call you back. Have a nice day!” Lanie set the phone down. A sick feeling was starting to rise up in her throat. God, he probably just didn't hear the phone. Relax. She dressed, pulled her bike out of the garage, and made her way to Jimmy's house.
While pedaling, she tried to rationalize. He’s probably playing video games in the basement. He usually does that in the morning before he takes a shower. …But why wouldn’t he have answered the phone? The wind was relatively strong that morning. It was making water fall from her eyes. Finally, she reached his house. She ran to the door and pounded on it, trying to catch her breath. She listened, but could hear no one approaching the door. She pounded again, shouting, “Jimmy! Come on, open the door!” There was no answer. Lanie opened the screen door and knocked on the wooden door. Again, no answer. Without hesitation, she opened the door and walked in the house.
“Jimmy?” She walked slowly, not bothering to remove her sandals. All of the curtains and blinds were closed, so despite the bright sun outside, it was dark and gloomy in the house. Lanie found Jimmy's closed bedroom door and knocked once again. That lazy jerk…he’s probably still sleeping and was just too tired to answer the phone. But he couldn’t have slept through the doorbell!
“Jimmy, I know you have to be awake in there! Now come on and let me in!” There was no answer, so Lanie turned the knob and swung the door open.
“Alright, I’m coming in, Jimmy, and you’d better not be doing anything…weird….” She peered inside and heard her breath escape her mouth in a way that sounded like relief - there was Jimmy, curled up under the covers of his bed - the sheets slowly rising and falling with his breath. See? she told herself, he's fine, you made a big deal out of nothing and now everything's fine. She padded over to the side of his bed, ready to swat him over the head and wake him up so they could go play video games together. But then, she noticed a slight discoloration on part of the sheets. Spots of red, blemishing the pure white.
“Jimmy…” she breathed, and slowly peeled the sheet back to reveal a bloody mess that covered his clothes and the bedding, but mostly his arms. Someone had reached inside her and grabbed hold of her stomach, squeezing suddenly. And then punched her lungs, making her incapable of breathing. Her mind was screaming. She took a step back from the bed, trying to think, to figure out what she was supposed to do. Jimmy? This isn’t Jimmy… this isn't real, this is a dream, Jimmy's fine, this is a dream, this is a dream, it's a lie, this isn't my life! “Jimmy? Are you…awake?” Her tears were making her voice shake. A raspy breath escaped Jimmy’s mouth, and Lanie leaned closer. "Jimmy?”
“Lanie...” He held up his arms, showing her the deep lacerations in his skin. “...the devil made me do it.”