Not only did this seem like the popular thing to do, but I feel like I should be writing. Also, I'm avoiding an RP post. So here's my writing thread! = O
However, I'm somewhat sadistic, and feel that people should feel some pain and frustration. So you kiddies don't get a nice, easy to navigate table of contents from me. Also, and mostly, because I'm lazy.
So, without further introduction, here's my writing thread. Hope you enjoy it, and don't forget to wipe your feet at the door.
Room 67
I had just arrived in the city, after two weeks from hell.
It had started with the shooting. My sweetheart had just picked me up from the airport. We were on our way home, when the traffic light suddenly changed from green to red. The car in front of us skidded to a stop, and we were not nearly as fast. She crashed into the car's back end, although the collision happened at such a low speed that no damage, aside from a few scratches, had been caused. That fact did not clue in on the man whose car we had hit, however, and he stomped out of his car in a rage, walking towards our own with a belligerent attitude. He walked to her door, and ripped it open, and began to yell at her. Things escalated, and despite all my sweetheart said to mollify him, he was still furious. He pulled out a gun, and shot her. As she lay dying, the man seemed to finally understand the situation, and the gravity of the action which he just committed. His next target was himself. I sat there for what seemed like hours, just still, unable to act. An emergency worker eventually pulled me out of my stupor, where I was rushed to a hospital, released shortly after once they figured I was alright.
That sleepless night was the most lonely I had ever been in my life.
In the morning, I phoned my work, to tell them I could not come in for the rest of the week, due to what had happened. I had worked at a technology firm, whose founders could seem to do no wrong. I was a rising star in the company, and expected to reach an executive position within the next few years. However, that day, it seemed that if anything could go wrong for them, it did. Their stocks dropped like a clumsy mule on a trail in the Grand Canyon. It was unprecedented. They were forced to declare bankruptcy, and they did not even have enough money to give severance to any of their employees.
It was only eight o'clock, but I figured it was late enough. I rummaged through my liquor cabinet, and less than 20 minutes later, I was in a drunken stupor. Later I could figure out what to do, but at the moment I just needed a release.
The smell of charcoal and the sound of fire woke me up. My apartment was on fire! Forcing myself to think clearly, I gathered what I could, and fled the apartment complex.
In a nearby hotel, I got a room, where I dropped all my stuff and collapsed on the bed, utterly drained from all that had happened with the last twenty-hour hours.
