Showing These B*****s How its Done

not done

 

act ONE

“A memory is what is left when something happens and does not completely happen”

 

           

 

 

 

 

 

proLOGUE

 

 

               My name is unimportant.

           Yours is too. You just have it to seperate yourself from all of the other creatures crawling about this earth.

          Some people call me John. Some people call me the P.I. Others call me a nihilist. I call me honest. My car is driving through countless puddles and cardboard boxes. The earth has gone colder over the years. High rise buildings, giants, peer down on us mortals. Flesh can rot, but stone can not. The traffic light changes and the cars fly by.

                     Her name was Patricia Lovejoy; 24; blondehair, blue eyes. She weighted a hundred and forty pounds, but looked like she only weighed one hundred. Gazing out of the windshild, I can see all of the other people. Old. Young. Homeless. Wealthy. All the same.

                    Her name was Melody Keen; 24; blondehair, blue eyes. Looked about a hundred pounds. She always told me that this world was just her playground, and that she was ready to take her place in heaven. I don't believe in heaven and I know this is hell.

                        So where did Tracy Hearting, age twenty four go? She said she had her place in heaven. Not happening. Not hell or anywhere. Where did she go? Where do we go when we die? Do we go into nowhere? Darkness?

                     Darkness. Even with out death, man would still be a creature who fears the dark. The unknown. He cannot face this fear. He averts his eyes from it and erases his memory of the blackness. Erasing your memory erases a part of yourself. The part that desires to know. When one is in total darkness for awhile, one goes insane. We are in darkness, not knowing, but to those who do know. This darkness. This not knowing of what is really there drives them insane. To those who know we dont know, this is hell.

               I think she knew, Melody that is, i think she knew that we dont know everything. Thats why Tracy wanted to achieve the knowledge. But this got her killed. And above Patricia's body, in her blood:

  BY THE POWER OF GOD

                     I don't know what exactly is going on still, but I will find out.

 chapter ONE

 

3 WEEKS EARLIER:

When do human beings die?

          I mean when do we really cease to exist? Is it when that blade makes contact with our necks? Or, is it when all our organs just shut down or decay? Or, could it be when the brain is deprived of blood because it is all spewing from a gaping hole in our necks? I can only just guess – I mean – I am not a doctor or anything. Just curious.

Curiousity killed that cat.

          Even so, if there is one think I really can be sure of, it’s the fewer questions you ask, the happier you will be in this world. When you wake up in the morning, don’t question why the sun rises every morning. When you are making your coffee in your black fuzzy slippers, don’t ask what makes the coffee hot. When you slip and fall, don’t question what pulls you to the ground. We can’t question it because it is. IS. When one understands the issness of everything, one realizes that everything IS and there does not necessarily have to be a WHO or a WHAT or a reason behind anything. Understanding that makes me a lot happier.

          In this world, I am a lot happier because of it.

          The clock that is mounted on the wall opposite of my bed spun to read six thirty. I sat up in bed. I outstretched my arms, almost trying to touch the ceiling. I got out of bed and stared out the window. I was lucky, my room was high above the other buildings, giving me a clear view of the rainy city. There was no sign of the risen sun, hidden behind a curtain of clouds. I looked out the window for a little bit. Half naked. Not questioning why it was raining. Happy.

          Telling things as they are is always the best way to tell a story, but in this case there needs to be a certain level of understanding that you must have. An understanding of the world. But that is what I plan for you to understand.

          I am gazing out of the window, I see giant stone towers, stretching out into a curtain of clouds. Rain soaked streets intersect one another and the people all run around. Unquestioningly. The towers are huge, they stare over the people like ancient stone giants. I was once told by an old man that there was a time where these giants did not exist and it was all just earth. He said that these monstrous buildings, carved with geometric shapes and engravings of ancient faces, did not always gaze upon us humans. I told him he was senile.

          Things were not was or havebeen or isgoingtobe, they are only is. Once you understand that you will be a lot happier.

          I wrapped my body in a black bathrobe and slipped my feet into my fuzzy black slippers. I turned the television on and began to brew coffee. The hot water runs through the crushed coffee beans. I turned to the black and while images one the screen.

“Do you have faith in God!?”

“Yes sir!”

“Then I suggest you come down here to All Holy’s Church! To achieve salvation one much fear God and his might. We must repent for the end is upon us. In these times we must be vigilant. We must be willing to sacrifice for God’s plan; for the kingdom of God. If you fear God and wish to take part in his plan, please, come down to All Holy’s church! ‘It’s good to find your grace in God, the heavenly rock where rests our every hope.’ Please, come; join us.”

            I turn my attention away from the television and focus on my coffee. My fuel. It has gotten to the point where my body needs this brown substance to survive. I can’t go on with my day without it.

 

 

blah ill finish it later

 

Author's Note

not done