I've been sick as of late. I'm not sure what it is, but I know it's been affecting my stomach, my head, and the right side of my ribs. I would love to say it is purely a sickness, but I'm beginning to think it has more to do with my mental state right now. No, no, I'm not going insane or nothing. Instead, I've got a lot of stress I have to deal with, all of which is of my own doing, and sleep is a rare commodity.
Well, anyhow, I finally got my to ability write back once more yesterday. I think I spent about seven hours doodling stories that will never see the light of day. One of the stories I churned out is obviously incomplete, which is why I'm posting it. Honestly, I don't know what's going on or who these people are. I was just writing. So enjoy my lunacy:
Poor Gabriel was always an odd boy. Rarely was it that he paid enough attention to even know what you looked like, yet he always found a way to remember your name and figure out how to torment you in some fashion. As a young child he was beloved for his trickery; his ability to fool others came as a game and not necessarily as a personal flaw. As he grew, however, his inability to keep his focus and his adoration of cruelty towards others became not a parlor trick to be shown to your neighbor, but rather something to be hidden away and forgotten.
Each and every life was important, no matter how much they contributed. For poor Gabriel, it was his ticket to forever be what he had become. And yet, as he charged up the last few flights of stairs, he knew his actions that day might just make him a pariah. Still, that urge in the back of his head, the little voice seemingly never silenced until its thirst was quenched, kept taking him further up the tenement project.
At each pass Gabriel used the red object he carried to smash the window on his left, if they weren't already shattered that is. Behind the sound soon came a booming, echoing laugh which shook Jude. Unlike the young trickster, Jude had kept his protective clothing on. There was no worse death than a frozen one and that particular April morning was begging for another victim.
Before he could reach Gabriel, Jude heard the rooftop access door slam. The sound of his shouting voice and his scampering feet all but disappeared and silence befell the stairwell.
The frozen winds begged for a sacrifice. Ice had formed and only barely was the door even able to be opened, though it showed signs of recent use. It was beyond Gabriel's comprehension, but as soon as Jude found the indentions of boots against the blue paint he knew who had been there. Blocking it out of his mind, he ripped the door open and rushed out, nearly slipping as he came upon the scene.
"Jude!" the poor boy cried out. It was a terrible sight. He was stripped of almost all of his clothing, the only exceptions were his boots, pants, and a thin white shirt that was barely visible - his skin had the same pallid color. "It's a beautiful summer day, Jude."
What was to be said at such a moment? There was no response and he knew there were no magical words which would have convinced him to stop doing what he was doing and come back to the city.
"Why are you doing this to us?"
It was a ridiculous question, he thought. There was no sanity in the boys head and, even if there was a motive, he was too absent minded to remember it. In truth, it was all emotion.
Gabriel, as he thought about the question, lifted the red object, the gun, into the air and let out a cackling half-laugh, one covered partly by the wind. "Jude," he began again, "have you ever seen the sun?"
He let out a gasping laugh. "No, Gabriel, I haven't. Have you?"
For a moment, a single second, there was no sound. Even the wind seemed to become shockingly silent and the snow halted for a brief time. They were watching from high above, probably placing bets and laughing at what was to happen next.
Gabriel, whose head fell down and shook slightly, asked as boyishly as he could, "Why am I here?"
"You're about to kill us, Gabriel."
And then it came. It was a wicked look, a sinister little laugh with no volume, just a staring glare that came up from the shadows of Gabriel's face. "Who are you?" Before Jude could answer, Gabriel continued on: "You're no better than all of them. You want to control me. You want me to do only what you do and if I argue then you yell at me!"
"You're insane, man. No one argues with you, no one even looks at you wrongly..." he suddenly found himself quieted as Gabriel's arm relaxed and fell back to his side. "Come on, you know what happens if you shoot that thing off."
Something told him that Gabriel wasn't listening. He was off and in his own little land, Jude was simply another person he could torment. And, as he tried his hardest to figure out a way to stop him, Gabriel lifted his arm once more. There was no laugh or smile or realization of what would come. Instead, he pulled the trigger and the flare dislodged itself. Yet, instead of shooting off into the sky and bursting, it stayed connected to the end of the pistol.
There was no sound, much like before. Rather, a thud came and knocked Jude back. From his position, as he laid there and listened to the ringing in his ear, he watched as the snow peacefully drifted down. Soon, however, sound came back and with it the screams of Gabriel.
Jude slowly took to his feet and watched as the young man staggered back and forth, his right arm flailing about. There was little left of his hand and most of his forearm had been chewed apart. Still, the flare had gone off, nearly blinding both men. Infuriated, Jude charged forward and grabbed Gabriel by his shirt. The disoriented man failed to react, for obvious reasons.
"Do you realize the hell you just put upon us?"
Gabriel looked up to the speaker, unaware of anything that was happening. He had stopped screaming even before Jude grabbed him. The loss of blood was beginning to set in as his body began to grow limp and his vision became fuzzy. Jude's shaking only seemed to further the blood loss, quickly putting his conscious into a blur, forcing a laugh out of him. He could still see his mouth moving, though. The wind, the sound of Jude's shouting, and everything else slowly fell into the distance again. His feet gave into the effort of Jude and slowly he walked backwards.
"Have you nothing in your head except malice?!"
And with it, as Jude let go, Gabriel felt the wind slowly covering him. In its embrace he smiled a final smirk and watched as he fell back and the world turned white. Before Jude could even react, he saw poor Gabriel fall.
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