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Thread: Encyclopedia Suicide and the Mystery of True Love

  1. #1
    Lord of Death jubeh's Avatar
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    Dec 2010

    Encyclopedia Suicide and the Mystery of True Love

    I wrote the first 3 pieces ages ago but I'm finally getting around to writing this again.

    Massive_Damage_Rodriguez: I need to know right now
    Massive_Damage_Rodriguez: that this is real
    Massive_Damage_Rodriguez: like 100%
    Destiny.Destroy: yes
    Massive_Damage_Rodriguez: It doesn’t seem real
    Destiny.Destroy: it is
    Massive_Damage_Rodriguez: Okay are there like a hotel around where you live
    Destiny.Destroy: you can just stay at my place
    Destiny.Destroy: my parents will be out of town and my brother wont care
    Massive_Damage_Rodriguez: Man are you sure
    Destiny.Destroy: just chill out
    Destiny.Destroy: its a big deal to me too but you dont see me freaking out
    Massive_Damage_Rodriguez: I’m not freaking out
    Massive_Damage_Rodriguez: I’m freaking out a little bit
    Massive_Damage_Rodriguez: FUCK IM FREAKING OUT MAN
    Destiny.Destroy: lol
    Massive_Damage_Rodriguez: Should we talk about
    Massive_Damage_Rodriguez: like
    Massive_Damage_Rodriguez: you know
    Destiny.Destroy: what?
    Massive_Damage_Rodriguez: like
    Massive_Damage_Rodriguez: intentions?
    Destiny.Destroy: no
    Massive_Damage_Rodriguez: Uh okay.

    If you gave me two hours I could think of a hundred ways to kill myself. Anyone could think of the obvious things: wrist cutting, head shooting, traffic hurling. But how about tipping a vending machine over on yourself so people think you died trying to get snacks. You could just eat a shitload of raw chicken, or even fried chicken if you were patient. You could go to the gym and use the bench press to kill yourself. Just put on more weight than you can lift and let the bar drop on your neck. If you wanted to remove your head entirely, you could get some steel rope. Tie one end to a fence and the other around your neck. Then you could get into your car and speed off.

    If you gave me two hours and a plane ride to a place I’ve never been before, I could smile politely and pretend to listen to the lady next to me. I could tell you about this girl I like — the reason I’m still alive. I could tell you about how nervous it is flying to the house of somebody whom you’ve never met in person, and maybe they’re a serial killer. Maybe you want them to be a serial killer because you want to be serial killed. But probably you’re just an idiot in love.

    Love, at least to me, was much different than it how I thought it would be based on movies and songs. Love songs leave out the arguments, and the intense awkwardness of not knowing what you can get away with saying. They don’t really mention the period after an argument when you don’t know if you’re even in a relationship anymore, or the parts where you simply avoid your partner just because you feel like it. If you gave me two hours I could write a song about all this shit.

    Most importantly, though, with two hours you could fly from the bottom half of the country to the top half.

    Before the taxi could even make it to Camille’s house, we had to stop.

    “Road obstruction,” said the driver. “Can’t go any farther.”

    The road was blocked by cop cars and people surrounding what looked like a crime scene. I stepped out of the taxi towards the murmuring crowd to see people with their hands covering their mouths, mothers covering the eyes of their children, and teenagers laughing like fucking idiots. I figured it must be a good one.

    In order to satisfy my morbid curiosity, I pushed my way through the crowd and craned my neck towards a concentration of police officers. It took me to a while to find what I was looking for. I only needed to look up. Dangling from the tree in front of a nice little house I could see a man with a rope around his neck. He swayed calmly back and forth, before a firemen managed to get him down.

    “Why would he do such a thing?” asked somebody in the crowd.

    “How could nobody notice?” asked another.

    An unidentified man had apparently hung himself in front of his house without anyone being there to see or stop him. He looked like a typical salary man in slacks and a button-up, but where his tie should be was a vicious rope burn. There was a minivan in the drive way, and a satellite dish on the roof. I ran scenarios through my head so that I could decide why he had killed himself. His wife could have cheated on him, but that’s way too obvious. Maybe he was having an affair, and ended up being blackmailed over it.

    After the initial gasps and screams, the police came by to urge everyone to leave and I took the opportunity, maybe inappropriately, to ask him where I could find Camille’s address.

    He gave me a look like I was crazy and said, “Kid, it’s right in front of you.”

  2. #2
    Lord of Death jubeh's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2010
    Excuse the silly format idk why I write it like this


    I wondered if I could ever love again without feeling terrified of the consequences. The irony wasn't lost on me, and I even laughed at first. I was broken by a girl, and another dragged me out of the rubble just to break me again. My issue, aside from the crippling pain in my heart, was why? Why would somebody pretend to be somebody else for so long and to what gain?

    Camille said I could stay at her place but that obviously wasn't going to happen so I found the cheapest motel in the area that had wi-fi. I looked at our conversation logs for a hint or clue. If I could find the tiniest slip up maybe I could -- well I really didn't know what I was trying to do, but I had to find some way to make myself feel less violated.

    It was painful to go through but I found that she was incredibly consistent. I looked through the pictures and tried to convince myself she was a dude and this was just an incredibly elaborate prank, but her features were too feminine and I decided that I was trying to avoid the real truth. It was scary to think about but if Camille didn't exist -- at least as I knew her -- she could have been anybody.

    She could have been a perverted Catholic priest, or a lonely twilight fan. I thought of all the secrets I had shared and the pictures I had sent and I threw up in my mouth a bit. I was sick to my stomach and I had a long day so I must have nodded off at some point.

    I woke up to the sound of steel clashing and men screaming.

    "We are under attack Prince Rodrick! We are doomed!" screamed a small man sitting next to me in the wagon.

    "I've told you a thousand times," I said. "My name is Rodrigu-"

    Before I could finish I heard one of the wheels of the wagon break, and I fell backwards as the contraption turned over. Around me the caravan guards shed their packs and drew their swords in my defense.

    I rose to my feet, and drew my trusted servant weapon. It hissed as it left its scabbard causing the less experienced guards to cringe. I slapped an arrow out of the air with it and screamed. "You would harm your prince? Feel the sting of Ira!"

    The bandits ignored the threat and rushed forward all at once. This should have been a simple, two hour trip to the capital. If you gave me two hours I could take a decent nap, or I could tell you a hundred ways to kill a man with a longsword. You could stab with the blade horizontally and slip right through the chest cavity. Stabbing a throat is harder as the hit point is smaller but its much more fun to do. You could actually swing the sword, sure, but thats incredibly personal and not something I do to people I don't know. You have to be really close. If you gave me two minutes I could kill a small army of ill-armored bandits without getting cut a single time. But maybe I like to get cut, so I played around a bit.

    As I tore through the bandits their hatred flowed out of their corpses and into the flask at my side. My sword screamed in fury, and what few scoundrels were left fled in terror.

    "Man, they fucked up my car," I said as I examined the broken down wagon. "I guess we walk?"

    The small man from before hopped out of the wagon looking terrified. "Prince Rodrick, they took the royal documents?"

    "Bokya, what in the world are you talking about?"

    Bokya hopped up and down, furiously. "You were instructed to deliver those documents to the capital! That was the entire reason we set out on this trip!"

    "Why don't I remember any of this?" I asked.

    "I suppose royal privelage allows a few forgotten errands here and there," said a voice. I felt one of the caravan guards slip a knife into my back. "A real shame the same couldn't be said of the common folk." The stab felt good in a weird way but passing out never does.

  3. #3
    One Thousand Member AlmanacnamedTime's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2011
    The ocean
    Hey this is interesting. You should keep writing so I can be entertained.
    Quote Originally Posted by Mr_Liebe View Post
    I pegged you as a sadist, nyuck nyuck.
    My Story Thread

    If you took the time to read this, you can just call me Al, or Stan.

  4. #4
    Lord of Death jubeh's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2010
    I should really relearn punctuation and grammar.


    The next morning was pretty odd since there was somebody sleeping in my bed. I had dozed off at my computer, but I was sure the doors were locked. I quietly stuck my hand in my bag and tried to feel around for something I could use to defend myself, but the best I could find was a mechanical pencil.

    She woke up as I was digging through my shit and looked at me. I instinctively raised my pencil up to defend myself against her deadly gaze. She laughed.

    "What are you doing?"

    After an incredibly long and awkward silence I responded. "W-what are you doing?"

    "Wow," she said.

    Before you ask -- no, it wasn't Camille. I didn't recognize the mysterious woman at all but the way she looked at me made me feel like she had known me forever. Her face was really round and she had hair that went just a little past her ears. She climbed out of the bed completely naked. I attempted to cover my face, but ended up stabbing myself in the forehead with the pencil. I let out a not-so-manly shriek and she broke into wild laughter.

    "I didn't realize the little prince was so shy!"

    I rubbed my forehead to check for blood. "Put on some clothes, man!" I shuffled to the opposite side of the bed to create some distance. "Tell me what's going on here. Who are you?"

    I was surprised by her genuine look of confusion and pain. I instinctively raised my hands up as if I were trying to console her, but quickly sprung back into a defensive posture. Soon her sad face turned to one of anger.

    "You asshole!" she screamed.

    I stood there awkwardly as she got dressed, and when she was finished I uncovered my face to see her glaring at me. It was then I noticed how cat-like her eyes were, and slowly I started to notice features in her face that seemed off. I don't exactly know why but I felt compelled to play along in whatever was going on. I put on my best "oh-that's-who-you-are" face and said, "Listen! I'm really sorry. My memory has been shit lately."

    I could see in her face that she believed me to some extent. She still looked hurt so I asked her to sit on the bed and I sat next to her casually as if we were lifelong friends.

    "Sometimes its really hard to tell when you're joking, you know?"

    I nodded.

    "I really want to make this work, but sometimes you scare me. I know you're just kidding around, but," she gazed at me sweetly and I understood that I knew this woman somehow. "It hurts sometimes." As I looked deep in to her eyes I could see something dancing within them. I saw us, and somebody else. My body was covered in scars, and we were all laughing and having a good time. The images flashed so quickly and so painfully I recoiled, and fell off the bed.

    Before I could compose myself she let out the angriest growl I'd ever heard and stomped out of the motel room. "Don't even bother coming over to Camille's later. We're done."I begged her to wait but she slammed the door, and by the time I opened it she was long gone. As I shut the door I noticed blood dripping from my long sleeve on to my hand. I pulled up my sleeve to see that my arm was covered in scars. I could tell that it was going to be a long day.

  5. #5
    Moderator Psy's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2010
    I call it many names. The two that seem to be most accurate tho are "Hell" and "Work".
    Second piece third paragraph first sentence is throwing me off.
    "Love, at least to me, was much different than it how I thought it would be based on movies and songs." its the "it" before How thats messing with me. nothing big just . . . it bugged me . . .
    Not done reading but I like it so far.

  6. #6
    Lord of Death jubeh's Avatar
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    Dec 2010
    Thanks for finding the mistake. This is completely unedited so it will have tons of mistakes and will probably look nothing like this if I ever finish it.

  7. #7
    One Thousand Member jaidurn's Avatar
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    Nov 2010
    hey james are you ever gonna work on this again? i really was enjoying it.
    Quote Originally Posted by Conversation

  8. #8
    Lord of Death jubeh's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2010
    Um things are going pretty well for me right now but as soon as something bad happens I'll pick it up again


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