Author Topic: Short story  (Read 716 times)

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Offline Txontaw

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Short story
« on: January 25, 2010, 01:47:05 am »
So, this is a project that I had to do for english. A short story mimicking the style of The House On Mango Street. I threw together this. It's not that good, especially if you don't know the context, but it is an Avatar fanfic nonetheless.

Me in the base.

They say I’m the first one. That I’m the first person born on another planet. And since day 1 it’s been nothing but cold grey metal. I’ve only seen the outside world several times. It looks fun, but it’s separated from me by a blanket of wire and poisonous air. They say the jungle is dangerous; that everything will try to kill you. But my teacher Nancy says otherwise. There are plenty of peaceful creatures. She says. You just have to find them. I’m surrounded by people unlike me. They are either super-smart and always busy, or they lounge around like lazy plants, smoking and telling jokes I don’t understand. My room is bare with nothing but a bed, and some leaves that the older people bring me from their trips. I also have a wing of a strange animal. It lights up at night, strangely. And it’s circle. Strange.

My friend, me.

They say that it’s growing with me. That when it’s ready I can use it. They also say that it’s me and them, combined. It’s fascinating, watching it float in its container. I sometimes watch it for hours, just to see it and giggle when it jerks. I don’t know when it will be ready, but everyone else seems to, and they seem to like not telling me. It’s very frustrating to try and figure out when I can use it. It just floats there, not knowing a thing but the blue liquid it’s in. I’m jealous of it. I wish I was floating in blue liquid, not worrying about anything other than what I’m in. It doesn’t have to avoid the strange men in the halls, it doesn’t have to go to bed on time and go to school in a class of 1. It’s my friend, and I wish it would go to school with me.

The jungle and me.

They say that today’s the big day. That I get to go explore the jungle. I’m excited, scared. There could be big things that eat me, or small things that bite me, or medium sized things that both. But I want to go. I’ve never seen the jungle much, and only the same patch outside the window. I want to find the circle-wing animal. I want to see what it really looks like. I’ve seen drawings of everything, but I want to really see them. My teacher says that tse’a means see, and so does kame, but differently. I want to both the animals of the jungle. On the way out, they put a helmet on me. It lets me breath outside, and not die. We got into the helicopter, and we took off. I was a bird flying over new territory. I had never flown before. My mother said that I have, I just wasn’t born yet. I wonder if my unborn self enjoyed it as much as I did then. We didn’t land though, and we only saw one animal. I was disappointed. I wanted to see the animals.

Me in the lab.

They say that I’m old enough to work in the lab. That I can now be like the grown ups. The older people treat me nicely, but kind of strange, like they need coffee badly. They send me to do small things, and the head lab lady Grace said that if I work diligently (whatever that means) than she’ll teach me to use a microscope. I’m also learning to type and input data into the computers. The computers are cool, with glowing screens and big buttons. Once I pressed one of the big buttons, and I got a time out. The buttons don’t get pressed anymore, by me. They keep me busy doing work for them. I hope they’ll teach me, because I want to wear one of the white coats. Grace says that when I use a microscope, I can wear a white coat too. I can’t wait to learn to use a microscope.

Me, dreaming.

They say that it’s ready. That I can use it now. I’m going to be able to use it, finally. No more watching it float in blue liquid. They guided me to a sleek grey container. I crawled in like a crab, and they closed it on me. It’s dark in there. Very dark. Then I blacked out, but only for a second. When I woke up, I was somewhere else. I sat up, and saw that there were people with helmets on. They asked me to wiggle my toes. “Good,” they said. Then they asked for me to touch my fingers together. “Good,” they said again. After a while of this, they let me stand up and walk around. It was fun to do that. Then they let me out of my gown, and let me dress in some clothes. It was then that I realized I was as tall as them. I’m not a little person anymore! I ran outside, and found lots of other people like me. They towered over the lab coats. The whole place seemed to be a flurry of activity. After a while of watching, one of them came over and took us to a big house, with beds in it. I fell asleep and woke up again, back in the container. I felt strange. Different, like I had been asleep for a thousand years.


They say that my mother wanted to call me Susan, after her mother. That it would keep up the tradition. But then my father intervened, and now I’m Primrose. I don’t really like it. It sounds old fashioned, like it’s from the 2000s. It doesn’t fit me. I don’t like old stuff. I like new stuff, especially the new stuff we get from the ships. They bring stuff that smells new, tastes new, feels new. New new new. Not old. Old doesn’t exist anymore, and that’s why it’s old. I don’t want to be old, I want to be new. Everything new is good. At least my name is new in this base. No one else has it, I think. I’m excellent at typing now, and so I decided to write a story. It was about the animals of the jungle. I still haven’t seen them. I want to see them badly. I showed the story to Nancy, she says “Keep working on it. It’s good.” But I haven’t been able to because I’m working most of the time in the lab now.

Not me, them.

They say it was because they were encroaching on us. That they deserved it. But I don’t think they did. They were nice people. The others don’t seem to think that they are people at all, but I do. I think that they are people just like you and me. And now they’re dead. They were killed by us, because they disliked what we were doing. And now they’re dead. They tried to get back at us for getting at them. And now they’re dead. They’re dead and it’s my fault. And now I won’t be able to see them again, maybe forever. They’re avoiding us now. Hating us.

Him and I.

They say his brother was killed back on Earth. That he only came here because he had to. He seems different to me. His name is Jake, his brother was Tom. They were twins. I avoid him. He seems different than everyone else here. He can’t move his legs. Not one bit. I work in the lab and I glance at him as he gazes at himself, but not. I hope he didn’t notice me. I go back to work, trying to ignore him. Then Grace comes out, and goes to yell at Parker for bringing Jake here, and not Tom. I guess they wanted Tom, not Jake. I pity him. He seems so alone. I pity me. I can’t help him.

I envy.

They say that they’re going because he was leaking info. That he’s the only reason they’re going. But how I envy him. I’ve only seen them once. But they are magnificent. Big hunks of rock, floating on nothing. I wish I could go, but they want minimum people involved. I stand in the field and watch them leave, wishing.

I watch the murder.

They say that it is so that we can continue to work. That it is necessary. But I think it’s his fault. He wants blood on his hands, he needs it. They came, and they attacked. They blew it up, and it tipped over. I watched the screens. I could almost feel the heartbeats of the fearful. I could almost hear the cries of the wounded, the dead. And I can’t do anything. I can only watch and stare and cry. Then they take them away. Traitors, they’re called. They don’t deserve it. I deserve it for not doing something.

I watch them leave.

They say that he fought them, and against all odds, won. That he changed from us to them. And it is true! He came back, flying on the biggest animal I’ve seen. He let it leave, and he and his brothers came and took us over. They cuffed everyone, and made them leave. Except us. We, who understood. Who knew. Who did not have blood on our hands. They let us stay and watch as they file along, away from this place. We watched them leave, never to return. What comes now? I don’t know. All I know is that now I am free.
"You're not in Kansas anymore. You're on Pandora, Ladies and Gentlemen." - Colonel Quaritch

Offline Technowraith

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Re: Short story
« Reply #1 on: January 25, 2010, 07:29:19 am »
That is actually pretty good, even though the context is foreign to me. It's still a nice story.
See that shadow? It's the last one you're gonna see.

Tsmukan fa kxetse anawm


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