Deserted: Service Announcement

To all readers of Deserted I'm sorry to inform you that I won't be publishing new parts of the story for the next three months at the least. I'm going to revise it heavily during summer and hopefully I reconnect with the story so that I can finish it off.

If you have any suggestions for what could be improved in the Deserted, please let me know. I'll take your comments in consideration during my revision work.

Those faithful days filled with fantasy are just the beginning of the end.

I knew that falling in love wasn’t going to bring me success. All love could do is hold me back. That’s what my father always told me after a fight with his wife who also seemed to be my mother. Yes, I knew that love was like a shackle to hold us guys back and force us to accept children who aren’t yours. Another thing my father claimed, this time when he was drunk, that I, his only son, was an accident delivered by the postman. And since that was his believe, he refuted strongly against my job at the post office. He considered it to be an evil irony by god, may he rest in peace, that his son should embrace his ancestry by working for the marriage spoilers. My father, not long after my first day at the post office, drank too much and succeeded in driving off a bridge. The funeral was a pool of tears and gossip. I heard Uncle Joe, he was my father’s brother, say that that darned postman who had impregnated my mother had had the courage to show his, and I quote, ugly butt-face at this stinking parade of black. I, of course, wanted to meet the, and I re-quote, ugly butt-faced man who supposedly was my father. My mother hadn’t taken he time of from her busy schedule of watching the home shopping network to come down and pay her last respects to her husband which she despised deeply since he had started spreading the rumour about her unfaithfulness. Life can be a true tragedy in the movies, but in real life all goes as smooth as the moon’s surface.

But back to the love story before I uncover all the family’s secrets. I knew that falling in love wasn’t the best thing to do to give my career at the post office a kick-start, certainly not when the person I fell in love with was the beautiful daughter of the manager of the post office. I know it sounds awfully familiar, but my life wasn’t creative enough to come up with something more exciting. The gorgeous daughter visited her father every Wednesday at the office. She always were Italian stilettos and tight-fitting dresses which followed her curves almost as close as my tongue soon would be. I was already fantasizing about our first night together. Together in some cheap motel because she was too afraid to take me home to her father’s place and because I was afraid to bring her too my humble abouts. The x-rated movie played nicely in the movie theatre above my eyes. Every Wednesday she came to the office to ask daddy, as she would publicly humiliated him, for a little extra pocket money so that she and the girls could go shopping in the local expensive malls. She always needed a new pair of shoes, and a pair of pants would always have to be paired with the newly bought shoes, not to forget about a cute little top and just a dress for when it was above 70°F. Of course, it was always above 70 in this town.

One Wednesday, she came to the office, for the first time ever not wearing a dress, but a grey mantle suit, to ask daddy for just a little something something. Her father didn’t have any money on him, also a first, and sent her towards me, since I was working at the register and was responsible for the money. She came galloping towards my working space and flipped her hair provocatively. My mouth fell open for just a few mini-seconds, or so it seemed. She stood in front of me and said: “My daddy said you could give me like, I don’t know, 800 dollars, or something.” I, without thinking, smiled and started my dumbest conversation ever. “Do you want a receipt with that?” She chuckled. I made her laugh. “No stupid, I do not need a receipt, I just want the fucking money, you twat.” I had fallen. I had fallen deep. I quickly took the money out of the cash machine and gave it her. “Thank you” she said with this nice obnoxious tone to it. Oh she was perfect, I thought. I just knew we had a connection and someday, sooner rather than later, we’d form a thing.

The Wednesday before now, she returned wearing a red dress coming up to her hips. I knew I had to take my chance so I had stood up early to take a bath. I had washed my hair with a good smelling shampoo. I had brushed my teeth, I even had them bleached on Tuesday. I had token the liberty to buy a new Armani suit. It was my first Armani and it felt a bit weird wearing it, but at least I would score tonight. She asked daddy for money, but again, he had forgotten it was Wednesday. He had decided to lengthen his weekends with an extra Monday and Friday to increase productivity during the working week. Since he was just in the transition phase he always forgot that his Tuesday was actually our Wednesday. He had forgotten his money and consequently he sent his daughter towards me. I was sitting ready. 800 dollars right next to me to provide fast delivery, which was our motto anyhow. She looked at her father and rolled her eyes. He then pushed her in my direction and I took that as a token of his approval of us dating. She came over and said: “Give me 800 dollars, you retard.” I took the money which laid next to me and handed her. “Would you like to go out with me tonight?” I said while holding onto the money. “Let go of the MONEY!” she screamed. “Is that a yes?” She ran away and I honestly was in the believe that she was going home to freshen up for our big date tonight.

I was sitting in the local restaurant awaiting her arrival. I sat there from 7 pm until 3 am. The restaurant had had around the 300 costumers, almost all couple. I was sitting at the window looking at the parking lot waiting until her little red Hummer would pull up. I waited and waited. I thought she must have fallen out of gas since those Hummer are thirsty little things. I decided to call her father at 3 am to ask whether or not his daughter had already left to meet me at the restaurant. He picked up and declared me crazy and that I should never call him or his daughter ever again. And he added that I was fired too. I knew falling in love with the daughter of my conservative boss wasn’t the best idea, but this reaction was a little beyond my expectation. After closing hour in the restaurant I headed over towards the casa of the beauty. I didn’t see her little red car anywhere so she must have forgotten our date. I arrived at their beautiful gated community and checked in at the entrance. Apparently they didn’t know me and they didn’t wanted to wake up the parents of my love. I accepted the decision and parked somewhere along the wall. I climber across the wall and walked towards the house. I used Google Earth on my Iphone to find out exactly where it was. I soon found it and threw rocks at the bedroom window of my darling. I knew she was home because she briefly opened the curtain.

A few minutes later, I hurt police cars in the distance. I had no idea what was going on, but I hoped it wasn’t some sort of freak stalking an innocent young lady. I was standing in the middle of the road waiting until my darling would open the door and let me in. The cop cars came closer and then pulled into the street where I was standing. I waved at them and before I knew it, they pushed me brutally onto the ground and kicked me in my ribs.

I have no idea what I did, but I’ll tell you one thing. All love can do is hold you behind bars.

This is my entrance for Writer's Island prompt Fantasy.

Wonderfully Ferocious

Last night was so wonderful. I never expected it to be so wonderful. I never ever even wished for it to be so wonderful. But, for some reason I’m not too sure about, my life made a one-eighty last night and it feels so amazingly beautiful. Last night, I had a date with my special someone. My special someone wasn’t special before last night, but now, I’ll tell you, he is. I met him through the internet. Isn’t that the most romantic story? I was afraid to meet him for long. I thought he might be one of those pervs, you know. Those guys who chat up innocent girls and then ask them to meet them and then make them drunk and rape them, those types you hear about all the time on the TV. I postponed all the time, but for some reason I always kept talking to him on MSN. It went so smoothly, so easy. I wasn’t afraid after the first three short conversations to honestly state the state of my union with my parents, with my friends and with my emotions. He seemed so understanding, so forgiving. He told me the words I wanted to hear. He made me blush. He made me think about my life in new unexpected ways. He became my soul mate and I didn’t want to loose that. I felt so afraid to loose another important person in my life. He kept asking to meet me and I kept finding new excuses. Yet, he still kept on talking with me. He was so nice, so considerate. I finally decided to give in because I started to fear he might be loosing interest. That he might stop communicating with me. I didn’t want that. I didn’t. I needed this lovely stranger.

So, last night, we finally met. We finally met. You should have felt my heart beat. It felt as an angry young man protesting in the 60s. We had decided to meet in a public place. It was in a train station. He had to come from far, so that was the logical decision. He would send me a text once he got off from the train. I stood there waiting in front of the building. It was raining, but I didn’t mind. For some reason, I saw sunshine everywhere I looked. You know people don’t always see the things around them, they adjust their vision to their emotion. I adjusted mine that day. I only saw the beautiful young people holding hands. I only saw the old people kissing on the bench so tenderly. I only saw that awkward little kid following his best friend’s sister with that look in his eyes as if she was that forbidden fruit that would taste so sweet. Even in the rain, I saw all that. It’s all I wanted to see. But, the clock kept on ticking. My blood pressure raised to unexpected heights. I waited and waited and waited and waited and waited and when I looked at my watch just about five seconds had passed and than I waited some more and some more and some more and some more and I checked the big clock hanging in the middle of the grand terminal and noticed that now ten seconds had passed. Every time the pointer moved, I grew more inpatient. I had postponed this meeting too long. I couldn’t bear not knowing his smell any longer. I felt as if I had postponed life for too damn long. Too damn long I had been afraid. Irrational fear is the worst kind of fear, you know. It hurts you. It does. So, I kept on waiting. I finally heard through the loudspeakers that the train on which my special someone was hiding would shortly arrive. I wanted to jump up and down, but didn’t, but now I regret it, because you know, it’s cool to show emotions in public, we shouldn’t keep our upper lip stiff all the time.

I received a text. It was so sweet. I’ll quote it. The train to your heart has arrived. Soon I will rolling into your life and hopefully you’ll never let me board another train. Isn’t that just the sweetest thing you’ve ever read on a cell phone? Oh, I’m so in love, I think. This feeling I could cherish for ever. It just asks to be written down for eternity. I ran towards the platform. I don’t know why because that wasn’t our agreement, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed this person so bad. I waited at the beginning. I didn’t see him. I didn’t. I didn’t. Where was he? You know. It was terrible. Terrible. I was waiting and no one looking like the guy from the internet profile picture appeared. I could hear my heart shatter. I sank. Literally. I crashed my arse on the floor. Tears started rolling down my cheeks. A new text message. No longer sweet. It was rather bitter. Really bitter actually. Hey babe, remember me, yea, the guy you dumped back in high school. I fucking hate you. Hope you’re having fun, crying at the train station. Hope your heart is broken. Really shattered. Like you shattered mine. I fucking hate your ass, Richard Rushkin. A bit of a long text message, don’t you think. When I received it and read it, I became so angry. This Richard fellow, I don’t even remember him from high school, had put all this effort into hurting me. I wanted to smack him, kick him, kill him. I did. I’m sorry to say this now, but I really did. How could he make me feel this good and then kill the sentiment so brutally?

I sat at that platform for about an hour. My tears had dried and people had passed and looked at me as if I were a junkie which I wasn’t. Sure, drugs, I tried them. It was fun, I must admit, but I’m not a junkie so get those eyes of me. Well, eventually someone approached me, a station clerk. He had to come near me from his boss, our matchmaker. He had to come ask me whether or not I was okay and if so, if I could leave the train station and stop scaring the retired passengers. He looked so cute trying to ask that all in a polite manner. He had this dimples in his cheek. He laughed awkwardly when he approached me .He started talking with the softest voice I had ever heard. I smiled when I saw him. I didn’t know why. I was just brutally slaughtered and now I was smiling. My desire to be with my so-called soul mate had vaporised into cool air just an hour earlier and now desireless I started smiling at my new buddy, mon amour, like the French say. I looked in his eyes when he kneeled next to me and I could see little sailboats adrift in that vast blueness of his irises. He looked bedazzled by my smile now. He feared I was going to attack him with a needle like they thought him during his course to become a station clerk. I didn’t attack him, but I did ask when he got off from work. He was stupefied. He said he could leave whenever he wanted if only I would leave the station. So I blackmailed him into taking me to a local bar. I told him my story. He felt sorry for me. He understood why I had crashed at the platform. He understood me. And now, I feel wonderful, because, well basically, afterwards we went back to my place. And we talked. And drank a little too much. And then we said stupid things like I love you. And we ended up in bed. And a little bit on the kitchen table. And maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, but we kinda did it also a little bit on my desk. And in the bathroom. Under the shower. I always wanted to do that once. He was so ferocious. So wonderfully ferocious.

This is my entry for Writer's Island's prompt of the week Ferocious. To everyone who is following Deserted, I'm sorry I haven't updated it recently. I'll try and update this week, but I'm not promising much since I have a lot of work to do, but maybe with a little inspiration you'll see Matthew's Parision adventures soon.

Outrageous

Hello, M’am. We’ve got your son in custody. He was creating havoc in the local mall. – Are you sure you have the right number, officer. Our little boy wouldn’t ever do such a thing. I’ve raised him right. – I’m sorry to inform you, M’am, but your son has got some bad friends. The fellows he was hanging out with today have been arrested several times for public drunkenness and other small misdemeanors. – Public drunkenness? No. No. No. – Is your son often angry, M’am? – Not really. – That’s odd. Normally they show this kind of behaviour out of rage.

Let’s do something outrageous! Simon yelled brutally in the ear of Tom. Out-Rage-Ous! He slowly yell-spelled it. Tom jumped back and smacked Simon hard on the shoulder. Quit yelling in my ear, you jerk. He put his finger in his left ear, the one in which Simon yelled, and he screwdrove it partially in. Orange slime clung to his finger when he got it out. Gross! Simon screamed when seeing Tom’s ear wax. Tom started walking away from Simon, but Simon followed him. Where you going, Tom? - Away from you! - Com’on, what did I do? -You yelled in my ear. And now it’s still buzzing. - Sissy! Tom pushed Simon onto the street. A car honked. Hey, no fair. - Shut up! - I’m going home if you keep acting like this. - Would you be that nice. Tom replied with bitter sarcasm. Of course not, silly. Tom sprinted away, but Simon being the more athletic one of the two friends soon caught up. Aint it funny. - What aint funny? - You did always make me laugh, Tom. - Really? I thought I was just the guy you ignored in the school corridors. - So that’s what’s bothering you. - No it isn’t. - It is, I can tell. - You can look into my brain? - Asshole. – Jerk - Com’on man. You’re a freshie. I can’t be seen hanging out with a freshie. - So what, I’m just a weekend toy now? - If you want to call it that, sure, why not?” Tom punched Simon again. Ah, you’re lighting up. Tom didn’t reply. Let’s go to the park. Simon suggested.

So now what? – Trust me, it’s going to get outrageous here soon. – What you mean? – Just wait a few seconds, aight? A few buddies of mine are coming here soon. – Oh, I see. Do you want me to leave? – Nah, stay Tom. I want them to meet you. Since you’re cool and all. –Am I now? – Yea, you’re my ‘weekend toy’, remember? Tom laughed. Another inside joke between the two buddies, one of the many. Yea, look Tom. Those are my friends. Tom looked in the direction Simon indicated. Four guys wearing hoodies came nearer. They carried two bottles in a brown paper bag. Yea, they got some liquid. – Liquid? – Yea, you’ll like. Tom had doubts whether or not he was going to like, but he wanted to stay friends with Simon. They had been buds for years. Simon lived just next doors. Their friendship was so convenient. They just differed three years. Wassup? Aight, Tom, these are Nick, Thomas, Lewie and Carl. – Heya. Tom said feeling a bit awkward. He’s a freshie, Simon. – Yea, but he’s cool, Carl. – You sure? – No biggie, Carl, he can handle a bit of liquid. – Let’s find out. – It’s going to get outrageous. The friends of Simon started singing OUT-RAGE-OUS in a special tune. Tom never had heard it. Apparently it was a group thing. Simon joined them the second time round.

My head’s spinning.- After just three sips. Lucky bastard Simon’s friends laughed. Yea, Tom, we have to drink almost this entire bottle before we get to that stage. You know how expensive these things are, dude? Tom nodded no to Carl’s question. Enough to steal them, that’s how much. Lewie yelled. Everyone started laughing, except for Tom. He didn’t think it was right to steal. Just keep on drinking, Tom. said Simon. Coz otherwise you’ll miss OUT-RAGE-OUS.

Betcha Tom here doesn’t dare to pee from the bridge! Carl said daringly to Simon. He does, don’t you Tom? – I guess I could. – Do it then, Tom. –Yea! Do it. Everyone started whispering
Do it. Tom high on liquid and having to go urgently to the bathroom stepped towards the railing and opened his fly. Soon the gates of hell were opened. OUT-RAGE-OUS!