Friday, November 25, 2011

Chapter 2: Section 2

      Jordan walked for hours. He walked away from the crash, away from Cynthia. He meant to get as far away as he possibly could. Jordan found himself at his own doorstep. His feet apparently knew the way home without the help of his mind. He pulled out his keys and unlocked the front door, sighing. After closing the door behind him, he turned to the wall on his right and pressed a button, shaking his house with the power of his music turning on. He sighed again and plopped down on a couch. He should have known, Cynthia was the first person at the site, and would obviously feel the pressure to resolve it all. She would feel like she could have been there to stop it, and so feel the obligation to right the damage by resolving the mystery of the bomber.
      So that was it. He could no longer let himself see Cynthia. As sad as the prospect was, it was the only safe option. But why was it sad? He had only known her for the past 15 hours, if that. He picked up a remote and paused the music. He stood and walked to his computer. He searched her name, wondering if he could find her online. Alas, no. Disappointment. But why? He had no interest in her. At least that's what he was trying to convince himself. He opened his mind. She was beautiful, and seemed to like him. That was a rarity among people.
Defense one: If he can manage to gain her trust by the time she finds out who he is, she'll refuse to accept it.
Defense two: Jordan trained himself in treachery and deceit since he was 12, and could very likely avoid recognition as a killer.
      Guilt.
      Guilt plagued him again. A killer. A cold-hearted killer, that's who he was. But then again, he'd known that since he was 12, and didn't do anything to stop his upcoming destruction.
      His vision refocused on the screen in front of him. Cynthia.
      Jordan jumped from his chair and ran out of the room. He grabbed his never-used keys off of the bookshelf and ran out the door. He opened his garage door to his shining black 2010 camaro. He climbed into the car, put his keys in the ignition, and pulled out of his garage. after making sure the garage door was shut behind him, he sped off to the crash-site. He stopped abruptly next to a large beam sticking out of the ground and jumped out of the car. Cynthia was gone.
What could he have expected? That she stay there, looking at a crashed train all day? No.
"Idiot!" he muttered to himself angrily. He fell back into the car and leaned back into the seat. He sighed again. He let out a long breath and started his car again. He pulled around and headed back home. What would he have even said, anyways? "Hi! I think I might love you" ? No. No guy can say that easily. Especially not if he knows inside that the girl may then end up falling for a man who believes himself to be a beast of nature. He shook his head sadly and started driving home. He flinched in finding Cynthia walking alone on the side of the road. He pulled over next to her and honked. It was her turn to flinch. She looked around, looking to see if the honk was meant for another. Jordan leaned across the car and opened the door. She walked slowly to the car and peeked in.
      "Need a ride?" He said.
      "Oh!" she exclaimed. "I'm really close to home, actually."
      "You sure?" he asked, "I certainly don't mind taking you home, if needed."
      "I'm pretty sure. Thanks though!"
      "Alright... Well, I'll see you later then!"
      "Absolutely!" she replied. She closed the passenger door for him, and walked on in the other direction.
      Jordan swallowed down a knot in his throat and pulled back onto the road, returning home. Jordan felt like a part of his heart just died.
      Jordan parked his car in his garage and walked to his front door.
      Disappointment became despair. His house was a mess. It didn't look anything like how he'd left it. One thought rose to his mind.
      He forgot to lock the door to his cellar.


Sorry, it's a little short. But that's okay. Vote on the poll! Comment! And if you haven't already (and if you feel so inclined), Follow!

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Chapter 2: Section 1

      Jordan Williams awoke. He looked to his left and saw his dark coat and hoodie draped over a chair. Of course, his name wasn't really Jordan Williams. Who would be stupid enough to give their name to a stranger?
His real name was Andrew Lox. A name he hadn't responded to in many many years. Of late, he went by the name Jordan Williams. So it might as well be that his name really was Jordan Williams. But at least his fingerprints left on the bomb would doubtfully ever be found, and if they were, the prints would give the wrong name.
      Jordan looked around the room he was in, as he did almost every morning. The room was larger than you would expect from the outside of the house, it consisted of a queen-size bed, a 50 inch, flat-screen TV, and speakers all around the room that were undoubtedly made to deafen people. There were two books in the room. Both contained information on bombs and mines. Jordan sat up onto the side of his bed. He rubbed his eyes. He turned to his headboard and grabbed a remote. He pressed the play button, and loud sounds of dubstep suddenly filled the room.  Jordan had nothing on his schedule for the day, so he considered plopping back down onto his bed and drifting back off to sleep. He tilted his head and looked at his clock. 10:48am.
      He had already slept in for hours upon hours. He slipped out of his bed, walked out of his room, setting the sound system to a setting of running throughout the entire house. He took a long shower, then changed into black jeans and black t-shirt. He made himself chocolate milk. Not even a train-bomber can resist the powers of chocolate milk. After finishing his drink, he pulled on shoes, grabbed his keys, and left the house.
      He walked. He didn't often use his car. The cost of gas cut deep on his work-wage, not to mention walking is safer. So He walked with no direction. He rarely had any direction when he walked. He passed street upon street until he came to McLoughlin Boulevard. No matter where he walked, he always seemed to end up there. He headed to the direction of the Gladstone/Oregon city bridge. He decided to visit the 'crash-site' again. He was there when the train blew. He watched his masterpiece of art unfold in person rather than see the aftermath of the event on the news.
      He stayed with the burning wreckage for about ten minutes. Cynthia was the first to arrive at the scene, but she didn't notice him. After he heard the wail of sirens, he quickly made his leave of the mess. He was walking for the rest of the day. He walked all the way to Sellwood and back to the wreckage, and back, and made his way back again, but was interrupted midway by seeing a car refuse to start at a near empty parking lot. He continued walking, not caring, until he saw the driver exit the car. He at first didn't recognize her, and so continued walking, but out of the corner of his eye, he recognized her as the woman at the crash-site. He walked to her, fixed her car, introduced himself with a false name, and left.
      Jordan found himself back in front of the wreckage once again. And lo and behold, Cynthia sat on a curb merely a block away. He walked up to her, and made his introduction. He smiled within himself, feeling that sense of anonymity. That feeling that nobody would ever know who he was or that he blew the train.
      "Hey!" he said. Cynthia had a puzzled look for a few seconds, then her face brightened.
      "Oh hi!" she said. "At first I didn't realize who you were!" She laughed. Jordan smiled. Not because of what she said, but because of her laugh. She had no idea who he was, otherwise she would never laugh in his presence.
      "It's not the first time somebody didn't recognize me," he said, "although last time I didn't have this." he motioned to his massive scar on his face.
      "I can't imagine how painful it must have been to get something like that."
      "It wasn't too comfortable." Uncomfortable was definitely the word. Jordan got the scar on his face from an explosion of a bomb he himself created and detonated, and Jordan was getting uncomfortable on the subject of the scar. Cynthia sighed.
      "Well, I won't ask you to relive something like that. So, no worries," said Cynthia. Jordan smiled, once again feeling invulnerability. "So! What brings you here?" she asked. Jordan thought furiously.
      "Uuhh... I saw on the news something about a train crashing here, and I wanted to see it in person."
      "Ah. I see. Forensic scientists actually discovered remains of a bomb!" Jordan pulled a look of surprise.
      "Really?? Wow.... that's.... wasn't mentioned on the news..."
      "I can think why," Cynthia said. I don't think they would want everybody knowing about a bomber lumbering around Oregon."
      "I suppose that makes sense, otherwise everyone would be in a panic," Jordan said.
      "Yeah... I've been trying to find out more about the crash, but I haven't heard anything! It's a little frustrating," said Cynthia, clearly upset. Jordan was taken aback, and clearly felt a need to withdraw. He pulled out a pocketwatch and checked the time for no reason.
      "Yes, I can see how that would be frustrating, especially if you live around here and feel connected to the crash in some way."
      "Yeah..." sighed Cynthia.
      "Well, I gotta go! Good luck on finding out more about the crash!" Jordan said his words sincerely, but meant them in a demeaning manner. He prided himself in trickery.
      Cynthia had a small look of disappointment on her face as she replied, "Goodbye!"
      Jordan had a small look of worry on his face as he turned from Cynthia, intending to never see her again.



So ends part 1 of Chapter 2! Comments are always welcome, and votes on the story poll are always appreciated. Take your vote, and tune in next week for section 2!

Friday, November 11, 2011

Back to the good ol' times?

Has it been too long since my last random ramblings took place without a story attached? I thinks 'Yes'. I would talk to you about my everyday life, but that would get really boring. So scratch that idea.
While I think of something to talk about, enjoy this picture of a legless llama:


Did you enjoy it? You'd better have, cause if not:

If you don't know what that picture above is, it's probably for the better, but if you really need to know: asdf.
It's been a really long time since I did a post that was just me having a fun time writing, as opposed to a 30 day challenge, or a Lively Tuesday, or a story post, or promoting something (about promoting, check out these blogs to the right-->)

Yeah, I just promoted again, oh well.

I can't remember the last time I posted music on this blog, so I'll do that. 3 songs for you.

The first is Drifting by Andy McKee. I'm pretty sure I posted this song on my blog a long time ago, but it's an incredibly awesome song, so you should listen to it again.

He has a really weird guitar...

This next song is by Red. I've heard this song in the car on the way to school 3 times this year, I think. I am slowly but surely growing more fond of Red, strangely enough.


This final song is 'Choir of Failure' by a group I just found out about last week, 'Fades Away'. It's a Christian metal group. If you're not fond of metal music, or hard rock, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't listen to this next song, but I tried to find one of the ones in which they're not screaming (or as a friend put it, yelling). I would totally recommend taking a peek at it. This group is really talented, and way under-rated.


And that's it for the music in this post. Now for some promoting for my own works!

Have you read the 'blog story' I've been posting almost weekly? If you haven't, you have a chance to catch up! The whole first chapter can be found in one place; just check out the invisible page titled 'untitled blog-book' and it's all right there! I would really appreciate it if you could also vote on the poll after you've done so. It's nice to have more feedback on what the readers want to happen next.

Another thing you can find on this blog is a link to my Facebook page for my music: 'Dash For Existence'. It'd be super-cool of you and really inspiring to me if you could take a minute, travel to that page, and hit 'like'. I know there's no music to listen to, but there are plenty of lyrics to look at, and I'm trying to find a way to get some music recorded for you!

Now, I don't have very many words to say for veteran's day, but I saw this picture posted by a friend on Facebook, and I thought I would share that with you all rather than giving a speech that'll just end up being really stupid, so here's a picture:


There's my veteran's day recognition for the day, sorry if it seems a little small.

A friend from school just started a blog, and I feel like I should help him out with getting it more popular, so even though this is promoting again, his blog is right HERE.

This weekend is going to be incredibly fun. I'm going to meet this person for the first time ever. It should be fun. Another good friend will be becoming a new person this weekend, for those who know what that means. I don't think I'm allowed to name names, but yeah, it's gonna be exciting.
And then, tomorrow night, I'm going to a concert here. That should be really cool too.

And now I have work that needs to be done, so I'll end my post here with an adieu.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Chapter 1: Section 4

      Cynthia looked at her clock: 6:04pm. It was time to return home. In fact, she should have left over an hour ago. She wasn't sure why she had left until then. She grabbed her purse, exited the building, and climbed into her car. The sky was covered in cloud. It was that time of year where children pretend they could breathe fire. Cynthia wrapped her scarf more snugly around her neck. She turned the keys. Her car sputtered. She tried again, her car started for a few seconds, then died.
"Damn it!" she muttered. She took the keys out, and leaned back in her chair. She tried again, but with no luck. She took the keys out of the ignition and climbed out of her car. She slammed the car door and leaned against her car. She wrapped her scarf tighter and tried to think of what she could possibly do. A mysterious figure walked by. Only a man could hold that figure. He was tall, wearing a black coat with a raised collar, and his head was covered by a black hoodie. He stood at about 6 ft, and seemed entirely distant from the present.
Or, at least, that's what Cynthia thought. Just as the figure was about to pass out of sight at the other side of the building, the man stopped. He turned to her, and walked her way. As he walked, he lifted up his hood to show a man that could be mistaken for a villain in any movie. He was, in her eyes, the most handsome man she'd ever seen. He had fair skin and jet-black hair that stuck up perfectly. He bore a scar, the most disturbing scar she'd ever seen: a long streak from his right ear across his cheek. She didn't want to think about what brought him that scar. But she didn't have time to think, even if she had wanted to.
"Excuse me, I saw your car wasn't starting," he began, "do you need some help?"
"Uhm.... I don't know what's wrong with the car," Cynthia replied, unsure of how he was going to 'help'.
He pulled open the hood, took a quick look inside, reached inside, and pulled something. Cynthia rushed forward.
"What did you just do?"
"Part of your engine was out of place," He replied simply.
"Doesn't the engine get to insane heats though?" She asked, grabbing his wrist and taking a look at his hand.
"Your car didn't start, remember?"
"Right..." Cynthia said. She dropped his hand, suddenly embarrassed.
"Well, my name's Jordan Williams," he said, extending the hand she had just dropped.
"Cynthia Bernard," she replied, taking it.
"I need to vamoose," he stated, "I hope that helped your car." He turned from her, lifted his hood once again, and walked away.
      Cynthia closed the hood, climbed into the car, and turned the keys. The car roared to life. Cynthia marveled at God's providence, pulled her seat-belt on, and drove off back to her home. Her car's clock read 6:24pm. She arrived at the wreck 6 minutes later. It still wasn't fully cleaned up. She hadn't expected it to be.
As she pulled around the corner and drove up the hill, 5 familiar faces, along with two new ones, walked down the hill. Steve was easily discernible; he was throwing up his arms in the air and laughing. The rest of the bunch laughed with him. The tall one named Garrison pointed her out to them. They all jogged to her car.
"Hey look! A familiar face!"  said Simon in a really high pitched voice, as he laughed.
"I dunno..." said Hunter, and he proceeded to speak to the younger of the two unfamiliar faces. "Do you remember her, Maximus?"
"Uuhh... no..?"
"What have you been sniffin'!?" blurted out Simon jokingly.
"Dude: Simon; Maximus and Layne weren't there," said Steve.
"Right!" said Simon.
"Hunter, don't you remember her?!"
"Guys, it was a failed joke, come on..."
"Uuuhh....." Cynthia was as confused as ever.
"Sorry," said Garrison. "This is Layne," he pointed to the older of the two, "and Maximus," he pointed to the youngest.
"I'm sooorry!" said Hunter in an accent.
"Let me tell you a stooory!" said Simon, laughing.
The whole clan of 7 all burst into laughter.
Cynthia remained confused.
"Should we clue her in?" asked Hunter.
The other 6 took a look at her.
"Nah!" said Layne, also laughing.
"But she looks so confused!" said Garrison.
"Exactly!" said Maximus.
"You are the worst kind of person," said Garrison.
Maximus laughed.
"Cruel, cruel person..." said Obadiah, shaking his head.
"Well!" said Steve, "Cynthia, right? We're going over to the Dairy Queen, would you like to come?"
"No, sorry. I wish I could, sounds like fun, but I'm afraid I need to get home."
"Okay, college homework?" Steve asked.
"No, I came out of college last year," Cynthia said.
Cynthia all of a sudden wondered why she had to get home. She didn't live with anybody, she had no after-work activities, she didn't have a boyfriend, and above all, going to the Dairy Queen with most lively group of people she'd come across in over a year sounded like a lot of fun.
"Just tired then?" asked Garrison.
"Actually... no..." Cynthia said. "I'm actually completely free tonight! Maybe I'll come after all, if that's okay with you guys."
"Fine with me!" said Simon.
"I'm cool with it!" said Hunter.
"Sure!" said Obadiah.
The rest of the boys agreed with a look or a shrug.
"See you there then!"
She changed course over to the Dairy Queen. She arrived there in about a minute, bought herself a smoothie, and waited for the 7 for about 3 minutes. They piled through the doors and scrambled up to the counter. After a few minutes, they were all sitting in the corner of the restaurant, making jokes. Cynthia laughed among them, told jokes with them, and realized she was comfortable with these people. She felt at home for the first time in years. Cynthia lost track of the time, and when she finally bothered to check her clock, she found the time to be 9:48pm. She jumped to her feet.
"I've gotta go; I don't make it a habit to stay out late." Cynthia said. " I hope I see you all again!"
She was overwhelmed to hear a goodbye from each and every one of them.
      Cynthia climbed into her car outside, leaned back in her chair, and felt that intense sense of happiness. A feeling she hadn't felt for years.



And that is the end of Chapter 1! I hope you enjoyed it. There's a page being put up for this 'blog-book'.
For chapter 2, I'm going to be switching out of Cynthia's perspective into Jordan's. It should be fun. So vote vote vote on the poll, and let me know what you want to happen next, and I'll try to make it happen!

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Quick Note:

Okay, so this is going to be really short, but I just wanted to say a couple things.

First, I went over my blog and set it into a different kind of theme. I think it looks better, but I'm totally open to other opinions, if anyone has any!

Second, I'm really sorry I didn't post the next section last Wednesday or Thursday, that was simply human error and laziness, with a bit of procrastination mixed in. Totally my fault, but I'm gonna make sure to post the next part tomorrow after school. (We end the week tomorrow, so if it isn't up by the end of tomorrow, it'll be up on Friday, and if it isn't up on Friday, feel free to do something awful to me.)

Third, due to tomorrow being the last day of school for the week, I have lots of homework to do, so I'm gonna quit procrastinating and get some work done.

Look forward to seeing the next post pop up sometime tomorrow!

Monday, November 7, 2011

Bucket List?

I noticed that a lot of people are doing these so called "Bucket list" things (still don't know why the word 'bucket' is in there...) So I decided to try it out, overcoming my fear that only girls do it. And so here I present to you, my partial, unadulterated bucket list!

1: Own the guitar I've wanted for as long as I have (Epiphone Casino, cherry red :D)
2: Meet one of my favorite authors
3: Meet a member of one of my favorite bands
4: Become a famous musician
5: Finish and Publish one (or more) of my books
6: Co-author a book (or novel) with one or two other people
7: Record my songs, and publish them in complete albums
8: Hit at least 40 likes on my FB page: Dash For Existence
9: Put on a concert of my original music
10: Perform at the Piano Fort
11: Get a job that provides money
12: Successfully compose an album of soundtrack music
13: Succeed with my current group of 7 people (ssshh....)
14: Reach a higher number of followers on this blog

And, like porky pig says best, th-th-that's all, folks!