Not exactly an update, but all my scene assignments are being polished today. I'm not putting them here because this is for my unfinished or revised work, but I figured it'd be nice to have some sort of record that I am improving on unfinished pieces.

Scene 4

My latest scene assignment. Haven't been writing much for fun lately. So busy. Here was the prompt:

Write about a person who was in a plane crash exactly one year ago.
There are only a few survivors, and he/she is one of them. Explain what
this person does, thinks, and says on the one year anniversary of the
crash. Include some dialogue, but no more than five lines.

August. The Twenty second. Two-thousand and eight. I wake up, roll over and glance at the alarm clock. It started ringing right on time. Like usual. Pull back the sheets. Stand up. Glance behind me. My wife is still sleeping soundly, she learned more than awhile ago to sleep through the sound of my alarm. I walk to the closet. Blue shirt, socks, shoes, and black pants. Put them on one leg at a time like every morning. Adjust my tie. I run my hand over my face. Should shave today. Not going to. I brush my teeth twice instead, watching my mix of water, saliva and colored fluoride circle the drain and disappear. Wallet, cellphone, and keys are all in my pocket. I'm ready. One step at a time.

I open the door and lock it behind me. No time for breakfast. Never any time for breakfast. I let the car idle for a few moments. I reach for the air conditioner. The earlier you turn it on the better it runs. At least I always felt so. I look out the window towards the sky. Mistake. Hundreds of miles above, a life time away, I can see a plane flying by. I try not to let the memories in, but they flood me. My hand starts to shake intensely and the heat is accidentally flipped on. Fire. Blood. Screams. I close my eyes and press my hands against my ears. In a brief second everything comes back.

My head hurt so bad. My ears were ringing. The ground below me felt stiffer than I had ever imagined. I couldn't seem to move except for my left arm. I moved it to feel my head and felt blood. The last thing I remembered was a fasten seatbelt sign lighting up in the cabin. Screams. I could remember them too. Or maybe they were happening then. People wanted help, people were dying. Then everything went black.

Then came the people who wanted to know. I was interviewed. Questioned. Put on TV. But I had nothing to say. Therapy, pills, people who wanted to help, all of them came to me. Eventually, long after the dust had settled, people began to forget and I felt I could too. As people stopped coming to talk to me, I finally was alone.

The heat is starting to get to me. My eyes flash towards the clock. “Shit. Late.” I turn the air to full blast and switch the car into reverse. As I get near the highway it looks like there's a traffic jam. I turn on the radio and a song from when I was a teenager pops on. I bob my head slowly along with the chorus and wait for the traffic to let up.

Scene 3

I very, very quickly gave up Nanowrimo, so here is my third scene assignment for writing class. The prompt was write about a guy trying to convince a girl to have sex with him.

His hands lurched across her face. The attempt at giving her a gentle stroke across the cheek was thwarted by the alcohol pumping through his system. Leaning closer towards her ear was difficult but he managed to do so only slightly bumping into her. “Wanna go back to my place?” he whispered. The loud music and voices in the room made it difficult for her to hear him.

“Why?” she asked and then giggled.

“You know why.” He said giving her the closest imitation of a coy look he could manage. She let out a small hum and leaned in towards him. They resumed kissing with the kind of abandon you only have when you're young and intoxicated. Her eyes were tightly shut as their lips fumbled against the others. If anyone was watching closely they would have noticed his eyes flicker open and then shut again in a prolonged blinks. No one did of course, they were all entwined in their own parodies of a romantic encounter. His hands pulled her closer lustfully, the stirrings of ethanol had awoken primal urges that threatened to overtake him. After a few moments of careless thought he broke the touching lips and returned to her side. “Comon” he urged.

Her response was another giggle and more kissing. He was torn. He knew what he desired, both his mind and body knew it, but he lacked the inspiration to make it a reality. Within his haze he decided the only way to discover the path to his dreams was to take a blind first step. Slowly his hand crept up her exposed leg and under her skirt she had worn for the occasion. He grasped at forbidden flesh. She pressed against him harder in response. His head went wild with possibilities.

He would take her by the hand and stand up with her. The talking around them would stop and people would watch as he slowly lead her out the door. Their hands would not leave each others bodies for the rest of the night. The rest of the night would be a blur of passion and romance and entangled bodies. His body relished the thought. This plans were about to become action when they were interrupted.

“Hey! We're leaving!” Said the girls friend slapping her slightly on the stomach.

“Okay” she replied and stood up without him. Her friends exited the room and she stumbled after them. When she was in the door frame she turned around and gave him one last look of passion and spoke. “What's your name?”

Nanowrimo Day 1

I began Nanowrimo yesterday. As opposed to updating it to their site I will be posting my updates here.

Note: Although most to all of the stories I post on this site are unedited crap, this one is particularly so because of the constraints of Nanowrimo.

He didn't particularly know what he was doing. Sitting alone in his room. The lights were as dim as he could make them. He tossed the pill bottle back and forth between his two hands, staring at them as they swished back and forth in the air. The rattle of them inside reminded him of a baby's toy. He opened up the bottle and gazed inside for a moment before continuing his strange ritual. After a few minutes more of this he said “Fuck it.” and threw the bottle off to a dark corner of his room. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and watched as its glow brought to life all the remainders of his room he couldn't make out before. He flipped through the speed dial stopping on Vince. It rang until the answering machine picked up. He quickly hung up and dialed it once again. On the final ring a voice echoed across the line.

“Hey man, what's up?”

“Not much, how about you?” He could hear the cries from the TV over the phone but asked anyways.

“Just gaming it up.”

“Cool, cool. I was wondering if you wanted to go to the park and blaze?”

“Have I ever said no to that?”

“Not that I've heard.”

“When?”

“Right now?”

“Well shit, let me finish this up and I'll be there. Where do you want to meet?”

“Your place, I'll be there in about ten minutes.”

“Okay man, see you soon.”

“Bye”

He flipped his phone back closed again and sighed. He pulled on a sweat shirt quickly. It was black and dirty, but it was perfect for this kind of operation. Grabbing a bag quickly he exited out of his room. All the lights were out as everyone else in the house had gone to sleep. He had to be quiet. Not that it mattered if he got caught. What would anyone say to him. He was an adult, going out at night. They couldn't stop him. None the less he was quiet. He liked to think it was out of kindness to those sleeping in the house, but it was really just the primal fear from his childhood of being caught doing something he'd get in trouble for.

He tiptoed his way to the door and inched it open. Sliding out quickly he closed the door and checked to make sure it was locked. Proud of himself he strolled over to his car where a cat was waiting next to it.

“Hi Buzz” he said

“Meow” buzz responded. He reached down and gave the cat a good rub down. It's orange fur almost seemed to glow in the dim light from the street lamps. He shooed it away with his hand and got into the car. He was always afraid that one night he'd hit a cat. He couldn't bare to think of Buzz getting run over by some reckless driver like himself. He turned on the ignition and all of a sudden music blared from the speakers at an ungodly level. He was torn between putting his hands over his ears and shutting it down quickly. He ended up doing neither and instead shut it down after a few moments. He shook his head.

“Shitty night.”

He flipped on the lights and backed up to pull out into the main road. No cars were out at this time, and to him, that made it the best time to drive. It was only a few blocks to Vince's house, so it took it slow, but still managed to get there very early. It didn't matter know, he knew Vince would still just be sitting inside playing video games. He didn't bother to knock on the door as he came in and entered Vince's room. He knew everyone else would be asleep at this time, and they had a weird thing about never locking their doors. Vince was sitting inches away from the screen and mashing away wildly at the controller.

“Hey John” Vince said, breaking his trance

“Yo.”

John was always envious of the way Vince seemed to be able to move his hands at lightning speed and still have a total idea of what he was doing. John just didn't have the mental speed for that.

“Wanna play a round?” Vince offered

“Sure.” John sat down on the chair next to him, joining his gently glowing den of game graphics. After a few moments the game was over. Vince won like usual. “I need to practice more.” John offered.

“You always say that.” Vince said with a smirk. “So you wanna...” Vince held his index finger and thumb up to his mouth and inhaled while squinting his eyes.

“That's what I'm here for isn't it.” John said patting his bag. They both sat up and John fiddled with the zipper on his bag while Vince looked for a sweat shirt. “Aren't you going to put on pants?” John asked after seeing Vince had shorts on.

Vince looked down at his lack of covering on his lower legs and quickly said “No” while laughing. John laughed back as they walked out the door. It wasn't that cold out, but enough that the sweatshirts kept them comfortable. It was only a few blocks more to the park, it was almost a triangle between it, Vince's and John's. They strolled there leisurely. They did this many times a month, sometimes many times a week, and occasionally, when the mood was right, many times a day. There was a picnic table off to the corner. It wasn't particularly well hidden, but they had been there enough times to know that cops didn't come around this late at night, and if anything, they were prepared to run.

“I rolled some jays earlier” John offered.

“Nice.” Vince replied with a hint of excitement in his voice. “Got a lighter?”

“Oh shit!”

“Nah, it's cool man. I remembered one.” Vince preceded to take it out and play with it while John fished in his bag for the two joints. He pulled them out and gave one to Vince. He felt it slightly.

“Nice packing man” Vince said “Even if the end is a little fucked up.”

“Yeah, I know, but give me a break. I'm not trying to be perfect here.” Vince held a lighter up to his and breathed deep. It caught and caused him to cough slightly.

“What a bitch!” John commented.

“Fuck you!” Vince managed to squeeze out in between coughs. He handed John the lighter. He lit his making sure not to inhale too hard and show up his friend.

“See” John said after exhaling his small amount of smoke. “You are a bitch.”

They sat around and talked for awhile. Not about anything in particular. As the papers in their hands grew smaller, their conversation turned less comprehensible.

“Dude,” Said Vince “What would you do if the cops showed up right now?”

“Run like fuck.” John answered quickly.

“I think we could talk our way out of it.”

“How the fuck could we do that?”

“Dude, did you bring any more weed?”

“No.”

“Well then we got nothing on us! What are they gonna do!”

“Good point man” John stepped out his joint. “Let's head back though.”

“I'm down.” Vince started to walk in front of him. John lazily threw his bag across his shoulder.

“Hey man, how long have we been friends now?”

“Like ten years?”

“Shit it's been a long time.”

“Yeah it has man.”

“Good times though.”

“Yeah.”

John reached into his pack and felt around inside of it. He felt something cool touch his hand.

“What are you doing back there?” Vince asked. He turned around to look and saw nothing but a shadowy figure shove a blade into his chest. He fell down to his knees, he tried to yell something but his vision went dark to fast. John kicked him and saw he didn't move. He slowly rolled him over and pulled the knife out of his torso. Without bothering to clean it off, he flipped it back into its handle and slid it into his bag. He turned towards his house and walked home.

Letter

My second assignment for Creative Fiction Writing. I was to create a letter that to someone that would describe the person writing it in as much detail as possible.

Hi mom!

I was so excited to get your letter, that I decided to write this one back right away, but as soon as I started I realized I didn't know what to talk about. It's a few days later now, and I still don't know what to talk about, but I'm going to write it anyways.

Everything has been going great here. Me and Kathy went to the beach the other day, and it was beautiful. We camped there for the night, and in the morning I went out looking for sand dollars, but I couldn't find any! You need to let me in on your secrets. We ended up getting caught in a bad rainstorm coming back. I was scared to drive my car during it, I need to get it looked at once I have the money. Normally it wouldn't have been so bad but Kathy fell asleep so it was just me. I didn't even have music to keep me company since I didn't want to wake her up. She didn't even know there was a storm.

Oh yeah, I got my hair cut! I know you always said I looked good with longer hair, but I felt it was time for a change. I might let it grow out again depending on how much I like this look. I think I might dye it too, the dirty blonde look hasn't worked for me since I was twelve. What color do you think I should go? Kathy says I'd look good with anything that wasn't too crazy, but I think she's just being nice. Her sorority is having a dance in a week or so and she's making me go as her date. I know I kind of have to, but it's one of those fancy type dances where you actually have to be close to your partner and I haven't even tried one of those since getting this tall. Speaking of which, how tall is dad? I was just wondering if I was bigger than him yet.

School has been going well, I'm pretty sure I'm doing okay in all of my classes. Chemistry has me freaked out though, I've heard its really hard and even though it's only the second week I feel like I might be falling behind. Midterms are going to suck this term. I've been thinking of becoming a literature major though, what do you think? I mean, I like to read and everything, so it makes sense. Kathy declared as an art major last week, which I always knew she would. We went out to dinner to celebrate, it was fun.

I hope everything is going well back home. Tell sis I love her and ask dad if he knows about the plane ticket situation yet. I feel like we should be getting on that soon?

Sincerely,

Zack

Deathstick Pt. 2

A small second part of my story. It has been put on hold for the time being as I work on Nanowrimo

Matt was sitting outside on the balcony with Trevor splitting a joint and watching the others eyes roll back into their head.

There were several girls there I had never seen before, Rob had a way with women that none of us could live up to. Not that they wanted him, but more came to his call of free liquor than when the rest of us yelled it. Some other guys were there too, but none that I specifically knew. I had seen them before at other parties, part of Rob's lacrosse team I think. One stuck in my memory, that night, like every other night I had seen him, he was in an empty corner having a quiet heated argument with who I assume is his girlfriend. If they kept tradition by about two in the morning they would be making up in Rob's sisters bed. The biggest of his friends seemed to be the only ones confident enough to talk to some of the random girls there, the rest were sitting around a table playing some variation of poker involving shot glasses. One of them had an unlit cigar in his mouth and he looked like he wasn't enjoying it.

The person I was searching for finally caught my eye. Amy staring into her drink while on a couch next to one of the unknown pairs. I waved towards her and her eyes widened. She tripped while getting up, spilling her drink on the shoes of the oblivious girl next to her. I laughed a little bit too loud as she gave me a welcoming hug. “Glad you could make it!” She slowly articulated.

“Why wouldn't I?”

“Thought you might have better things to do.” She let go of her grip on my back and swallowed some more of the bright neon drink she had in her cup “You smell like smoke.”

“So I've been told tonight. Want to visit uncle Matt out there and see if him and Trevor are in a sharing mood?”

“I shouldn't.” There was a hopeful look in her eyes.

“And I shouldn't be here.” I grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards the glass door. She let loose weak and drawn out 'no's in between giggles. I slid the way outside open suddenly and both the guys outside jumped.

“Shit man! Knock first!” Matt said taking a quick puff. I snatched the inch of paper out of his hand as soon as he was done. “Ever heard of fucking asking?”

“Ever heard of being too fucked up to stop me?” Matt gave his permission with a wave of his hand and Trevor sunk farther into the lawn chair. I took a deep inhale and immediately exhaled a loud cough. Matt and Amy both howled at me.

“What a bitch!” said Matt, “Looks like you can handle those cancer sticks but can't handle a little of my miss Mary Jane!”

“Is the smell really that obvious?”

“Yes” Amy replied grabbing the joint out of my hands and giving it a quick deep puff. She attempted to blow smoke rings but ended up just looking like a fish. She passed it over to Trevor who groaned no and flicked his wrist. Matt stole it back from her and finished it up.

“So what brings you to our neck of the woods?” Matt stared at me with eyes like the devil's ass.

Deathstick Pt. 1

The beginning of a story I've been writing in between classes. First draft.

I lit a cigarette and almost immediately threw it out the car window. 'No smoking' I repeated to myself in thought. My habit of one cigarette a day had been getting to my friends and they insisted I stop for my own sake. I watched in the mirror as the lit stick hit the concrete and quickly disappeared from view. I don't even know why I bought packs anymore. Most of them disappeared before I even got half way through them. One thing they never tell you in anti-smoking ads, if you're going to smoke, go all the way to a full blown addict. When you only smoke occasionally non-smokers still hate you, and smokers don't consider you one of them.

Red and blue lights flashed in my rear view mirror. 'Shit. Littering.' I pulled over to the side of the road and the car continued by me faster than I expected. I felt sorry for whomever they were heading towards, they were going to have a much worse day than I was expecting.

I flipped on the stereo and a song from the last CD I popped in started up in the middle, past all my favorite parts. I pushed the skip button with all my might and listened to the brief whurr before the next started. It was a sad song so I hit the button a few more times until something happy came on. I pulled back on to the road, making sure to obey all the traffic laws I could. 'Fuck it' I thought, and pulled out and lit another cigarette, taking a deep drag on my first puff. I coughed a little, never been able to break that habit.

I watched the speedometer hit 70 and began to space out. The freeway was pretty clear, and that's when I like to drive the most. I get to watch green signs blur by and ignore what they say. I get to sing loudly and no one driving near me will laugh. I wish it was like that during daylight, instead I only get peace like that at night.

I slowly moved into the right lane, enjoying the slow drift of the car, and took my exit. A few turns later and I pulled into a cul de sac in suburbia. I finished the song that was playing before I got out and double checked to make sure the doors were locked. I pulled my cell out of my pocket and hit dial. Three rings later he picked up.

“Hey man! What's going on!?” He yelled into the phone. I could hear the loud yells in the background he was trying to overcome.

“I'm outside, should I just come in?”

“Nah man, here, I'll come and open it up.” I walked up to the door step and waited, tilting back and forth while looking at the ground. The door slammed open and out stumbled Rob.

“Hey man!” His face curdled “You smell like smoke.” he talked into my face.

“And you smell like a drunk”

“That's cause I am drunk! Come on in and join the party!” He tripped slightly as he reentered his house. I closed the door behind me and flipped the lock. I could hear the clinking of glasses from downstairs. I almost tripped as the thick carpet on the stairs caught my shoe. I reached the bottom and found the ground to be sticky, the party must have been going on longer than I thought. Rob bursted through a door and I could see people holding red plastic cups up to their faces. I strolled into the room and looked around to see who I knew. James was there, talking to some blonde girl I didn't recognize. His eyes already looked like he couldn't understand what he was saying, but from the rapid lip movements he was doing it wasn't stopping him.

Constant Strangers

This piece was written as an assignment for a creative writing class

Write about a person sitting on a bus. A man sits next to him or her and says, “I knew your sister. I never liked her though.”

“Oh” she said while stealing a quick glance at the stranger. She didn't recognize him and returned her gaze toward her turning thumbs on her Ipod wheel.

“Yeah,” he replied “She always seemed so stuck up. You seem different though.”

“Which sister are you talking about?”

“You have more than one? Katie.”

“Oh” She answered once more. The bus glided to a less than perfect stop, the jolt at the end caused the man to press against her slightly.

“Excuse me” he offered as she shrugged off the touch. A small smile came across his face. “She did talk about you a lot though, your sister I mean.”

“How did you know her?”

“We met at some parties a couple of times. She was pretty wild.” His smile widened as she recalled some of the stories her sister would tell her when she came back home from college for holiday. It was always after their parents went to sleep and usually in a dark room. “You must be a freshman then?”

“Sophmore actually.”

“Wow! A Soph already! I must be getting older than I thought.”

“Did you and Katie graduate together?”

“No” He paused for a second mulling over the words in his head. “Well, we were supposed to. I took what I like to call the slow track to graduation.” The bus screeched to a halt, sending the man almost on top of the girl. He slowly collected himself and sat back down with his thigh touching hers. “Bumpy ride.” The bus pulled away from the curb once more.

“So how did you know it was me?” The girl asked.

“What?”

“How did you know I was Katie's sister?”

“Oh,” he paused in slight shock “I saw a picture of you in her room once, and like I said, she always talked about you.”

“I thought you didn't like her, what were you doing in her room.”

“Who says you have to like someone to be in their room?” He failed to hide his erupting grin as the memory of that night flooded back to him. The girl flipped her hair and turned away towards the front of the bus.

“My stop is coming up.” was all she offered.

“Well hey, let me get your number and maybe we can hang out sometime. Maybe the next time Katie is in town we can all get together.”

“Okay” she gave in without bothering to resist. He finished pressing the buttons on his phone and clapped it shut causing a small burst above the noise of the bus pulling up to the curb. She stood up quickly and walked toward the front, a small bag swinging from her arm.

“Bye!” He called out after her. Her hand gave a small wave back as she walked down the steps and out the door.