Post by Flexico on Oct 19, 2007 22:56:15 GMT -5
Across The Light Years ~~ part I
Chapter 2 ~ After High School
The old television set crackled and buzzed, slurring the voices of the characters on the screen.
"What did he just say?" I asked. When the TV refused to answer, I heaved the remote at it. The impact made the image quiver for a moment, become almost clear, then settle back down to the constant hum and flicker that seemed to permeate the entire house.
I heaved my sweatpant-laden legs from the arm of the couch, forcing my stocking feet to follow. With a grunt I shouldn't have for another fifty years, I pushed down on the sagging cushions and leaned forward, propelling myself to a halfway-decent standing posture. I held my head and stumbled slightly as I made headway for the kitchen.
There were no leftovers in the fridge, and I didn't feel like cooking anything. I groaned and slammed the fridge door. As soon as I turned around, however, I changed my mind, so I used my momentum to spin right back to the plain white door. Just as soon as I pulled it open, I grabbed a gallon of milk and let the door close slowly. The floor was sloped just right for that to work.
I chugged the milk straight from the jug for a few seconds, then slammed it down on the counter. As the liquid sloshed inside, I stared intently at the label.
"Why is life so boring?" I asked the milk jug. "Why this dreary, sagging apartment and not some tropical paradise? Why an overweight, lazy blob of a cat instead of a wild jaguar? Why am I just 'Amber, the geeky girl next door' instead of 'Amber Skullbasher, imperial warrior'? Huh?"
The milk jug had no immediate response. It probably wanted to think on that for a while.
After kindly returning the milk to its chilly home, I skipped into the bathroom as if I were in contented bliss, then drooped to 'disgrunteled zombie' the instant I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror. I leaned in close to the glass. Staring back at me from the inverted world were two big eyes, so deeply blue they looked purple, half-hidden under drooping, slightly grimy eyelids. Surrounding the eyes like a colony of ants around a dropped apple slice were an army of orange-ish freckles. Topping off the pinkish egg of a head was a frizzled mop of bright red-orange hair.
"Hello," I said to the ugly face. "WAZZZAAAAP??!?" I twisted my mouth and eyebrows around into about every possible hideous combination. After having my fill of that particular weirdness, I eyed the toilet for a few moments before deciding I didn't need to do my business right then.
I paced aimlessly through the crumbling apartment before finally plopping back down on the couch like so much bagged manure. The scratchy voices eminating from the flickering TV just went straight in one ear and out the other. Which ear was which I have no idea.
I decided to try to find a channel that was decently understandable. After flipping through endless snowy faces and garbled buzzing sounds, I discovered an actual image with discernible speech! It was the local news channel. The reports were the usual: Murder. Suicide. Rape. Some mutant monster escaped some laboratory and threatened the public. War in--
Wait, what?
I listened closely to the details about the so-called 'monster'. It had been just another tabloid article that no one with half a brain took seriously, talking about a genetic experiment that went terribly wrong. Later, however, the exact company the article mentioned sent out a public bullitan warning about an escaped and dangerous beast. The newspeople knew something was up, but told the public not to jump to any conclusions.
"Yeah, right," I said. "I bet there'll be two protest groups, one in favor of killing the creature, and one saying it has its right too. And then it will turn out to all be a hoax anyway."
Suddenly I froze as they called up the company's spokesperson to make a statement for the news. His name was Gerald Silver.
My father.
Chapter 2 ~ After High School
The old television set crackled and buzzed, slurring the voices of the characters on the screen.
"What did he just say?" I asked. When the TV refused to answer, I heaved the remote at it. The impact made the image quiver for a moment, become almost clear, then settle back down to the constant hum and flicker that seemed to permeate the entire house.
I heaved my sweatpant-laden legs from the arm of the couch, forcing my stocking feet to follow. With a grunt I shouldn't have for another fifty years, I pushed down on the sagging cushions and leaned forward, propelling myself to a halfway-decent standing posture. I held my head and stumbled slightly as I made headway for the kitchen.
There were no leftovers in the fridge, and I didn't feel like cooking anything. I groaned and slammed the fridge door. As soon as I turned around, however, I changed my mind, so I used my momentum to spin right back to the plain white door. Just as soon as I pulled it open, I grabbed a gallon of milk and let the door close slowly. The floor was sloped just right for that to work.
I chugged the milk straight from the jug for a few seconds, then slammed it down on the counter. As the liquid sloshed inside, I stared intently at the label.
"Why is life so boring?" I asked the milk jug. "Why this dreary, sagging apartment and not some tropical paradise? Why an overweight, lazy blob of a cat instead of a wild jaguar? Why am I just 'Amber, the geeky girl next door' instead of 'Amber Skullbasher, imperial warrior'? Huh?"
The milk jug had no immediate response. It probably wanted to think on that for a while.
After kindly returning the milk to its chilly home, I skipped into the bathroom as if I were in contented bliss, then drooped to 'disgrunteled zombie' the instant I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror. I leaned in close to the glass. Staring back at me from the inverted world were two big eyes, so deeply blue they looked purple, half-hidden under drooping, slightly grimy eyelids. Surrounding the eyes like a colony of ants around a dropped apple slice were an army of orange-ish freckles. Topping off the pinkish egg of a head was a frizzled mop of bright red-orange hair.
"Hello," I said to the ugly face. "WAZZZAAAAP??!?" I twisted my mouth and eyebrows around into about every possible hideous combination. After having my fill of that particular weirdness, I eyed the toilet for a few moments before deciding I didn't need to do my business right then.
I paced aimlessly through the crumbling apartment before finally plopping back down on the couch like so much bagged manure. The scratchy voices eminating from the flickering TV just went straight in one ear and out the other. Which ear was which I have no idea.
I decided to try to find a channel that was decently understandable. After flipping through endless snowy faces and garbled buzzing sounds, I discovered an actual image with discernible speech! It was the local news channel. The reports were the usual: Murder. Suicide. Rape. Some mutant monster escaped some laboratory and threatened the public. War in--
Wait, what?
I listened closely to the details about the so-called 'monster'. It had been just another tabloid article that no one with half a brain took seriously, talking about a genetic experiment that went terribly wrong. Later, however, the exact company the article mentioned sent out a public bullitan warning about an escaped and dangerous beast. The newspeople knew something was up, but told the public not to jump to any conclusions.
"Yeah, right," I said. "I bet there'll be two protest groups, one in favor of killing the creature, and one saying it has its right too. And then it will turn out to all be a hoax anyway."
Suddenly I froze as they called up the company's spokesperson to make a statement for the news. His name was Gerald Silver.
My father.