Monster? What is it?

            There is something in my room. It moves when I leave my room. Unfortunately, no clues were found what it was. The door slowly opened then closed, no wind. There was a hole on the wall, see through next room. My eye look in it, dark, cold, and nothing. Story long time ago, woman died in that room, white blonde hair, dead with bloody red evil eyes were blowed out. Next day, I looked into the hole, warm, red, and nothing. We should think about it. Cold, dark, those had been the night before; warm, red, those were the night after. “It was not bad. “You like it, don’t you?”. The voice is asking you, reader. You heard it, didn’t you, reader? Do you wonder who is talking to you, reader? I don’t know too.”. We continuous what was happened after it. The electrical circuit wire was weak, flickering… flickering… flickering… nothing happened. I slept on my bed, weakly, tired head. Someone was standing next to me. I saw him, blurred picture. He was tall but really blurry. He moved, someone else was there, thought so. The hole, yes, the hole. It was cold and dark like the night before. Picking up my loosely mind, I fell down the floor uncontrollably, consciousness, a lot of eyes, many eyes on pictures looked at me. I did not care, those were pictures on the wall. I was not scared, slept back. Morning came up to my room, sunshine to every inches of my room, through window. I woke up, those were window on the wall. Where were the pictures? “Don’t you see it again? It is cool right? Eyes, I was there too”. Step by step, I figured why, there was a mirror turn forward to the hole from the other room. It reflected what I had looked, my eyes. My dog jumped on my bed, he laid down lightly. After a minute, I saw him scratched the draft like he was scared of something under bed, he barked. Barking as loud as he could, I bounded down under my bed, nothing, dark. I kicked him out, he was barking and scratching my door and ran away. I looked under my bed one more time, my dog was sneaking out scary. What was kicked out? I was wondering. “Not too bad?”. I went to hospital after, I got sick at those things in my room. Walking on the hospital hallway, no one was there, only myself. My feet did not touch the ground, just the toes. Without helping from relatives or family, I walked slowly...slowly...slow...sl...s… I fell down on the floor. Consciousness! One more time! But, who was walking on my shoes. It kept walking on those shoes but not touched the floor. “I told you! See me there! Ha Ha”. I woke up on a bed, hospital bed, the weirdest thing was my shoes. It was dark but then It was bright, so bright. Knock… knock… knock… knock knock knock… “Who was that?” White blurred shirt was walking in to my room, I was dumb at that moment. Red liquid leaked from its pant. Leaking more and more, red bloody tremouse circle on the floor. On its hand, hairy hand, a syringe was moving to my arm. I could not do anything, all my body part was frozen, frozen as ice stone with blood. I passed out for a day after those happened. Home! “I went home after that”. My room, cold, really cold, was such a cold room. Where was a hole? I tried to find it. “Did you see it, did you see my hole?” I heard a sound was out at living room. Father Daniel, he came to help me, my life had a Savior. “Alright he was a savior”. He read bible and pointed to my head. He shouted to extract something in my body. It was in my room not in my body. Why? I was fine, I did not care, passed out energy. Next morning, everything was better than night before. I washed my face, warm water on my face. I got breakfast, and listened to story from yesterday. The devil was in body, extracted by God, Father Daniel helped me. I had to thanks him. News were on television, an accident this morning, victim had been burned in his car, could not identify. “Father Daniel?” Who was that? It was just a new randomly. Time up! I looked at my watch, time to go to bookstore. My room door was closed, nothing. I walked down the street, I heard a sound, was rolling very fast. “It was fast”. I walked faster, tried to walk faster. I saw a car behind, nothing to stop it. It stopped, on me. “At me”. I heard a sound, two sounds, and many sounds. Everything was darker and darker and dark away. “I walked home, I had my book, passed by a car this morning, a body under it, I thought a car owner fix something under it. I went to my room, looked down on my book, It’s time, book’s name. I saw a hole. I looked in it, warm and red, I felt comfortable. My skin was white, and my hair was white and blonde.”...

Last Call For Death

        Four guys, in the room, 4 cut fingers have been through on the old oak table, warm blood. Recently, three of their faces turned grey, phone was ringing, no one picked it up. They looked at each other, determine how to explain this situation. Bloody fingers were on their table, where they had recently smoked cannabis with some smooth cracks on the side, they were mixed blood and cracks with some cannabis. 4 four guys, they looked same as one, no doubt on it, they looked the same, quadruplets. One asked, “I found these fingers in restroom, say, whose are these?”.

	None answered, no sound, quiet till death, cold mood overwhelmed a room. One was a photographer, professional video maker, deal with drugs, lsd, talented cracks cooking. Second one was a blogger, great blogger on trending world, who had been dealing with marijuana, hookah maker. Third one was a chef in Waffle House, fantastic chef, using crystal meth as an art in cooking. Four one, last one, housekeeper, lazy, talented in artistic vaping and cannabis. All four, seems as four horseman, amazing humorous people, dealing with drug easily, passionately practiced in creating new drugs, were sitting in isolated room with all clean mirrors surrounding them. Some cannabis were growing greatly, green around the corner of the room, they treated them as their family members. And back to the main problems, who cut the fingers and hide it in bathroom.

	“I found the camera in my bag”, one said, “and there was a girl which lost her fingers on his left hands”. Stop for a while, he said, “Chef, cook me four eggs. Photographer, take me four pictures. Blogger, writes down four words. Now”. After a while, he felt hurt in his head, holding his beer shakedly, forgot what to say, dizzy was coming with drugs. So hurt! “Hurry!”, he said. Chef returned with his boiled eggs, and a bloody knife on a dish. Photographer sat down with his four pictures had one of them cut the girl’s fingers. Blogger left his four words on the table. Housekeeper, who decided, “Chef had cut her fingers, these pictures are proofing you. I do not need to investigate, clear as sun bright”. He pull out his revolt .45 on the table, time to finish boy. 

	Chef, looked at them, smile, deeply breath for his last time, mirror reflected his face as devil smile. Photographer looked at them, his face turned grey, deeply pale, but his face smiled up by the time, a mirror was reflecting his face, Satan’s smile. Blogger did not look at him, he knew it, but something was peeking at him at the back, through the door, a little sound but not distract him so far. A little sound, crying, tearing behind him, saw them through the door split. Housekeeper said, “Rule is a rule, my friend. Then betrayer will also be killed”. Blogger, started to cry, he knew execution would be his betrayal to himself. Photographer knew peeking and stalking had have to pay, by his death, those pictures. Those faces were turning darken every second, moody as darkness of guilty. Pick up a gun! Chef looked at it, like look at his friends for last time. Slowly pulled it into his mouth, he sniffed his last bullet like sniffing marijuana. He pulled his zippo to heat up a trigger, punished his dirty fingers, which cut those fingers. “Bang…”. Done. Everything fell down, the hookah with those cracks fell, broke down, fragile like a little glassy rose. 

The door opened quietly, she saw it. She was watching everything. Her boyfriend, depressed guy by the works, his passion had been destroyed, cooking, photography, and blogging, everything of his life. He cut her fingers in his cracked dreaming, she hurt, but could not do anything. He was depressed, suiciding was his choice. Everything has done, his body is on the warm bleeding blood, poorly.	

Nothing But Return to Nothing

“Tick tock… tick tock… tick tock…the clock...hmmm…what’s now?” “I’m in Paris.” “It is a sunrise in the Vatican.” “Hmm, I was wrong. I’m at the Berlin wall.” “Are you following me?”“Where am I? Hmm, Oh it is London.” “Oh excuse me!” (English accent). “Enough! Go home.”.“Do you know where we were?, we are?, reader?”. “Let me tell you a story, reader.”. “Do you like to read my conversation or something else?”. “Ok, reader”. “Let’s start”.

	I was writing in a room: I did not know the people who surrounded me. There was a guy sitting alone with his computer, but he could not sit quietly; he was annoying. There was a group of people; who were they, I wondered. A girl in that group was looking at me with  weirdly acumen eyes; I thought she was an idiot. I did not care about her, so I began looking out of the window. I held my hands tightly, bellicose to fight, against the weird staring of the girl. I hated those churlish eyes. A desire to travel was calling me to look out the window one more time. I stood up, walked up to the window, touched the glass; I was somewhere else. 

        My mind, which was an amazing organic living thing, directed my soul to every place I had thought about, fascinating flowing thoughts in my veins and nerves. Every single cell created my body, which I could use to paint my life picture in this bloody depressed world. I was in middle of New York, in Times Square. It was insanely crowded with walking mortals of different races, different ethnicities, and different faces. One person  carried his umbrella, a black umbrella. Then the others brought up their umbrellas: two, three, four, and so on. It was all black, a black umbrella street, then a black umbrella city. I huddled under them, saw rain rolling on those umbrellas, dropping down in the frigid concrete surface. One by one, hopelessness  flickering as a little light through them. What was happening? I felt as I was trapped in a pit of my own despair as my eyes turbulently darted around watching the rain. I closed my eyes, and my nose deeply inhaled a chilled air of rain. 

        When I opened my eyes again, wonderfulness was happening. Paris. I was under the Eiffel Tower. I looked up above my head carefully and saw all the black birds on the tower were whispering, ravens whispering quietly. One of them flew down under my feet; its eyes were so beautiful, black as an onyx, darkness I could see in them. Its eyes were jet-black, dingily looking at me. Poorly,  gloomy as “Sunday Gloomy” by Billie Holiday, hiding weakness in those eyes, reflecting me, in them. Slowly, smoothly it began sobbing, pouring out those tears of hopelessness in its soul. The theme of the park was fulvous and orange as the sunset was drowning in the city . Paris was in red of poppy flower. Those people, I could not see their faces, walked slowly like floating on the ground.  Their feet, I did not know they had put shoes on or not yet. Their black coats were dark and gloomy. One man in black, so dark, tempted me with his gold raven skull walking stick. It was shiny as a tiny sunset, hot, powerful and attractive. Step by step, he walked by me, stood next to me, and touched me carefully, lightly on my shoulder. I could not breathe; the raven skull absorbed all my vigor; it was deadly and savage and brutal. My skin was pale with skinny veins, wizen like an old man dying. I heard my bones cracking, fragile, damaged, broken. Bloody  rifts were split one by one from my eyes to my toes. My blood was frozen  like an ice-cream with red syrup on it. The man’s eyes were doomed and tyrannically looking at me by a truculent way. My soul had been kicked out; I fell down. 

         When I closed my eyes, the sanguinary scene was gone; I opened my eyes to Vatican City. Vatican City was on fire, red like the sun, and dark of evil. I  tried to run; I got my feet up , but I could not. I was chained, so depressed, sorrowfully knocked down in hopelessness. I had closed my eyes one more time.

         This time, I touched something cold, chilly and scratchy. I opened my eyes to light but not sunshine.  It was the Berlin Wall; I was in Germany somehow. My hand held a beer, and red blood bled into it, turning the yellow to red. Fortunately, I had escaped the man, back in Paris. I walked on the  foggy, cold street. I could not see more than two feet ahead when I stepped on something soft and stinky. 

         I awoke to a siren, ambulance, and firefighters.  I saw that the fog was gone and in front of me was a street on fire with bodies laid everywhere, bleeding and dying. What was it? What  happened here? Everyone had been killed, directly into the head, a bloody massacre. I ran away, as fast as possible. A helicopter flew around; who were they chasing? I jumped up to a hill close by and found a miracle box, flickering weakly in the darkness up the hill. The box was black and deadly to look at, absorbing my energy. Unknown people were hunting me every single time I closed my eyes. Those people, they chased me every second. I would have liked to have a nice time without dreaming but they would not let me have it. Who were  they? Stress and depression overwhelmed me; I could feel an invisible power holding me back. I needed to jump. Down the hill, I saw my arms were bleeding, my legs broken. I saw Berlin at my back;  I had turned away from war, escaped them, and closed my eyes. 

My eyes opened and I was in my classroom.  I tried to find a sarcastic smile from the girl, but there was nothing, none. Where was the boy going now? The classroom was the same as before but no one was there . The window was broken, a hole was in it, and some blood was stuck on a side of the glass. I tried to stand up but everything was fragile and my legs hurt. I crawled to the window, got up and looked down. I had escaped magically out of my dream, and there was a guy who had fallen down on the ground, surrounded by blood. It was me on the ground.

The news read: “There was a guy who had jumped out of his classroom down to the ground. He died shortly after. They found a project with  his last words, all about a dream and depression. They found in his computer a diary of his life. The last words he had written down were, “ Thank you people who made me depressed, I love it so much. Grace!”. His teacher was trying to hold him back and his friends had tried to barricade  the window. Teacher got fired, students were shocked after seeing his bleeding, cracked body on the ground with his eyes open. Everyone was scared and investigating who had mentally abused him. Another girl who died by hanging on a tree close to the school was also found. Under her body, she wrote: “I am!”.” 

Her

        She is a girl, a normal girl, I can tell. She has an oval face, a bit mature than her age. Her eyes are black like onyx, merged with dark mysterious blue of the stormy sky. Her eyes look at you acumen, into your soul, can’t hide anything from her; deeply straight to your soul through a glassy fragile light. She loves everyone with all her life, she is always a nice girl, none arrogance, none sassy as any good looking teenagers; but she is competitive, passion of life.  She has a feeling for an arrogant guy, who changes his life totally.

	She lived in urban city, large, crowded, and no love. Her parents, who did not teach her how to love, except love herself, they destroyed her life. Her school, bad, crazy, hater, all of them kills her soul. She lived in dark with these days, no light of love. Everything was busy, cold, and becomes dark. Her routine was as a prisoner in this closed world, no romantic roses in her barely fool life, not even one. The world swallowed her in its black hole, no exit, just dark of life. 

        School became harder when her enemy and also her first love had appeared into this world, she was dying for him. Those days, were not shining lights on her ways, but it was a tiny light of hope in her soul. She was in love with his loveless, merciless, apathetic and competitive personality. She was being dying by hiding her secret from her parents, hiding her little love from him; unfortunately, she had failed it from that first day she met him, she was shy.

        Her friends were bad, worse and the worst friends, no one, none of them she could believe, but she had to be friend with those evil people. They were loquacious people, they knew her secret, they whispered it to everyone in school quietly destroyed her life. Domination was a first goal in reality, in this city, dominate everyone to become a first person, was a job of everyone in this world. She decided to make something different, became a President of Honor Society. She made it as her dream, big dream to get rid of this dull gloomy world. 

       She started studying inculately, day and night, everyday, twelve hours a day, seven days a week. Her hard work  made everything from impossible to possible. All classes were honor or even AP courses, dropped all electives classes, stressful came to here. Her dream haunted her every night, it became nightmare, barely killed her.  Her breakfast was math, numbers, statistics,etc. Lunch was most every AP course, dinner was time for tests and quizzes.

       And the day she got paid came, election for President of Honor Society, her opposite candidate was him, arrogance, jejune guy. But he was rich enough to do everything to do it. Everyday, she was practicing for public speaking, digged deeply with her confident, passion of learning, leadership and voluntary. Fixing her speech again and again thousand times, practiced on it with all her energy. All was perfect enough to get that position like a piece of cake. 

       It was a time, she stood off, on the stage, after his speech. Everyone was disrespectfully talked, and shouted, uncontrolled crowds. Everything needed was patience and confident to face them. First word came out, everyone talked louder. Second word spoke out, the crowd start to curse. Later on, insulting and cursing were everywhere in the hall. They insulted her as a bitch or really worse curses. None respectful in there, he stood there looked as her, he knew what he had done. It was a result of his work, bribery. The crowd stole her stage, kicked her out, shouted at her, screwed her up. Crying, shouting, hating were from every corner. She left in crying, soul dying.

      She thought, she had to do something. It was revenge…  

Hope

    Time to smoke some pot, she pulled out a hookah and a pipe, followed them were some cracks and marijuana, she felt terrible after the worst day. That year, she was 22, had no job, even school, her name is Clarissa.         
    
    Getting into pot and crack, some heroin, or LSD, all were amazing for a girl like her, she addicted to them after using a while. She was thinking about herself, a great student, everybody loved her, but childish was an evil which had taken her beautiful life. Graduation day still haunted her everyday, party with friends and stuff were going on. She got into drugs in that destiny day of her life. Trying a new thing at a party with chilled friends were great ideas, exhaled cool smoke around, everybody was chilling on the couch and her. Unfortunately, some cracks knocked her down smoothly like a piece of cake, she cried out to have some more, poor girl, out of control and passed out like a little bitch. The wild party came up, surround her all the guys attacked her, they want to have her, pretty poor girl, stupid as down syndrome; her night went wrong, lost everything, darkness surrounded her, covered her naked shoulder, it held her weak body, she did not know a thing. Woke up in naked, she looked up, everyone had gone, left that lamented body, looseness. Picked up a cigar, lighted it up, she inhaled a long, furious, and destitute smoke, down to her throat. She started crying, a little by little, and screamed out with all her energy came out from her throat, hardly, a bitterness of cigar. Tears were rolling down like a drop of rain, mumbling to herself, lonely overwhelmed her life. No more feeling, no emotion, nothing in her mind, she picked up another pot, lighted up and passed out with it again.Her routine these chaffy days, unfortunately, was being changed, illegally hit up those crape from morning until night. Passing out was a daily routine she had had to do these days. Indignantly, she robbed some stuff from her family and sold them for money, cracks. Unfortunately, personal money was gone so easy and quick, mom’s money then dads were gone on the road too. Then robbing seven-eleven stores were a daily thing she did. And one day, she met her boyfriend, hit him really hurt into his chest on the way she was running away from the rob. They did not know each other, she saw his face and then fell down because the drug was over. He brought her home, laid her down, took care of her carefully, every single thing. Next day, everything was changed, her life had been rescued, he was a doctor, and he knew she needed drugs to keep her hype, satisfied herself as well. Everything he remained in control.She woke up in the stranger’s house, not afraid or frightened, she got used to it. But instead, his apartment was entirely different from all the one she had been before, it was clean as thoroughly, professionally organized by some magical genius. On the table, a note was left for her, “check-in fridge for food, and coffee is ready if you want,” he went. She put the blanket out, in a fine, cleaned cloth, her clothes had been a field on the bench next to her. A smell from coffee overwhelmed the room, she smelt it, sniffed it. But, caffeine made her want to get high, shaking little by little, she mourned to get help. He was not there, no one, craziness was catching her, eating her like a beast, swallowed her with its enormous mouth, she kept it for herself. She got a seizure, it was preventing her from scrolling to the door, she needed help. One more time, she was black-out in consciousness. 	
    He got home, like a typical day, he knew that she would be out from drug again. He took care of her after work, silently, she got used to him, a little talk every day. Two months later, she got off the drug, nothing held her back from him, but a little love had been grown by the time. She left him in happiness and pride. They knew each other a little by the time, she got to know him so well, a doctor, with a passion for curing poor people and drugs users. He knew her, a simple girl, innocent, lived with her family, poorly made decision, and became a drug user. The day she left him, in her pocket he had left for her a little card with some money to get home. She went out in sadness, mournfully, she cried on the taxi. She got back, cried like a baby, tears dropped as summer rain. 	

    He was still working, but he felt something wrong in his routine. He woke up, without her, he was a lazy bump, no coffee. Got to work with an empty stomach, his mind was a vacancy as well. He knew he was dying for her, he was in love. However, he knew nothing about her home, his shy remained him to ask her. His life, he understood it would never be the same again.  He left for her, a single piece with some simple words of address and his phone number just in case. 	

    A few months later, he picked up a phone, on the other wire, a weak sound echoed in his phone, "Can you pick me up," a familiar voice he had heard before. As quick as possible, he jumped right into his car, raced to her place. She changed entirely different girl he had ever known. A pretty face within makeup and in fitted casual clothes. 	She got back to him after her home was broken down in a fire. She was abandoned from her family, no love and nothing. Nowhere she could go, just a little card with his number. He was only her hope.

Tragedy

Stage 1:

I took my little stick.

Hung out something in the darkness.

I could not saw her, I wandered in darkness.

I heard it, her voice, so cold as a glacier.

I could feel the breeze from my behind, freeze me like ice.

Ahead was a little light, I stepped up, try to reach to it, so delicate, such a little hope.

My feet stepped on muggy, smooshy thing, I did not know what it was.

Darkness overwhelmed the feeling like a lion tries to devour its target, quickly stamped my fear with its sharp teeth.

It hardly accepted for my destiny, I have to reach the light, only hope to get out this dark world.

I heard her voice somewhere, it blew my mind with all the template words. 

She wanted to kill me, why?

I knew something she wanted, didn't I?

Stage 2:

"You shall not live, you not shall escape to the light, turn back to the mist and find your fate."

"The fire is on your heard, cold it down or it would burn yourself."

"You not shall want your life to be eaten by a lion on the wild field."

"You not shall keep your mind with these mindsets, your life not ending but you end it."

"You not shall touch the flame on the torch, or it would burn you like a lump of coal."

I heard word by word, kept walking in this black.

I was angry this with these moments, I wanted to finish it.

I could feel it so hard, a critical challenge for myself to achieve.

Time to not giving up, that's the only hope.

I could not fail this one, the light, I could not give it away for nothing.

Stage 3:

"Wait, don't go!"

"Please, turn to the night, daylight would trick you to death."

"Hold on! We love you, please don't leave us."

"Don't let your head lead you toward death."

"Everything is shining under the sun, even death."

"You know your only life is only hurt you with the stubborn."

"You shall not do it, or death devours your life instantaneously."

Those voices were so familiar, young and old. 

Black and white, I could hear them audibly.

I saw a torch ahead, but I could smell something else too.

Not shall I walk toward to that.

I touched the heat, I warmed my feeling.

I should think ahead with this torch. 

I had it in my hand, so far, I could see something in five feet around.

And I headed to the light.

Stage 4:

"Do you smell the death?"

"Do you hear the voice of pain?"

"Do you feel the oil of death?"

I stepped on the water, not quite it.

Smell really high concentration.

It stunted my nose at first.

Then I realized one thing.

Turned to darkness may a good way.

But the light was close enough.

No more decide, I stepped forward.

To the light, water changed, sticky, harder to move.

In a second, I smelt of gas on the surface.

Then a moment, I knew that I had no more choices.

I started to run.

My torch burned faster and flare.

Stage 5:

"You shall not live, you not shall escape to the light, turn back to the mist and find your fate."

"The fire is on your heard, cold it down or it would burn yourself."

"You not shall want your life to be eaten by a lion on the wild field."

"You not shall keep your mind with these mindsets, your life not ending but you end it."

"You not shall touch the flame on the torch, or it would burn you like a lump of coal."

Then I knew, I was going to die.

The flares touched the gas on a surface.

Bump! I was drowning in the fire, intensely. It hurt me so strenuously. 

It swallowed to black like a lion ate a deer.

"Wait, don't go!"

"Please, turn to the night, daylight would trick you to death."

"Hold on! We love you, please don't leave us."

"Don't let your head lead you toward death."

"Everything is shining under the sun, even death."

"You know your only life is only hurt you with the stubborn."

"You shall not do it, or death devours your life instantaneously."

"Haha, you're dead."

Nothing But Flashback to Life

One day in 2018, it was beautiful, white and before a day of darkness
came into my life. I’m from a far country, far far away from this
wonderful world. I was accepted into this highschool 
easily like eating a piece of cake. At that time, my brain was like
nothing to me, I lived like a idiot. But I loved football, and I 
wanted to be the best quarterback.

FADE IN:
EXT. FOOTBALL FIELD - AFTERNOON, SUNNY AND HOT.
I was working out with the football team. It was time to crush my
muscles and gore my teammates. Coach came to me, slowly and quietly.
COACH
Son! You will be quarterback for thisteam.
I saw you practice a few times, running.
Impressive.
I know you will be a great quarterback.

ME
It is such a great opportunity for me, Coach!

That was the first time I got a great opportunity for my future career. I became arrogant with a sarcastic personality. I pretended to be friendly outside, but inside myself, black and darkness were rising slowly but intensely.. I guffawed crazily in the middle of the field, and with the wind surrounding me, I felt as powerful as ever.

INT. MY ROOM - NIGHT, TIRED.
Lying down on my bed, I was thinking about my shining life. I fell into dreaming. 
	INTERCUT - INT. MY DREAM
ME:
(at the state champion game)
Hey!
Throw it to me. I’m open.
Come on! Throw it!
Dang it!
GIVE IT NOW!
(I caught a ball and started to run)
You can not stop me!
You are stupid guards 
How? Get me dummy.
Hey fat guy! Stop me if you can.

MICROPHONE:
(Out loud)
TOUCH DOWN!
6 points for 17! 
Beautiful touchdown, man.

ME
Easy, stupid!
I’m not dumb enough to not get that.

COACH
Come here, Son!
You need to move differently than that.


ME
NO Coach!
I’m good enough to play with those stupid people.
NO ONE CAN STOP ME ON THIS FIELD!
EXT. MY ROOM - MIDNIGHT
Coach was disappointed, but we won. I woke up in pride of being the champion last night. I saw my phone, someone’s text from a strange number. “Hey, how are you doing. How is your life’s dream?”

ME
(texting)
Who’s that?

STRANGER
(REPLYING)
It’s me.
I dropped my phone and went back to sleep. My brain worked again, but it moved me to someone’s house.

	INTERCUT - INT. MY DREAM - MY SOMEONE’S HOUSE
ME:
(THINKING, LOOKING AROUND)
HELLO?
Is anyone here?

ME:
(TALK TO MYSELF)
“DANG IT!
WHERE AM I RIGHT NOW?
WHO GOT ME HERE!”

STRANGER:
(LOW VOICE ECHOING IN THE HALL)
ME!
I know you so well, you arrogant youngblood.
You took my spot.
YOU DESTROYED MY CAREER.
YOU GOT MY SPOT!
You think you’re good?
Coach just uses you as his weapon for football. 
You, youngblood, dumb.

ME:
How did you get me here?
What spot are you talking about?
I’m not a youngblood!
You are dumb!
Who are YOU?

I got angry at this girl’s voice. What spot did I steal from her? I wondered. I got no answer.
CHANGING - EXT. NEW YORK - TIME SQUARE. NIGHT
ME:
HEY!
This is New York city.
What a dream!
It is playing me.
I  deserved this.
(LOOKING AROUND)
Is it me?
Is it the Champion cup? In New York?
Yea, right! I’m the best quarterback.

COACH:
Great job, Son!

Turning back, I saw him fading away from me, broken to pieces. What does that mean?

EXT. MY ROOM - MORNING - 7am
Wakingup after those dreams, I was sweating. I looked around; it was 7am, time for school, but I saw no alarm. What was wrong? Hmm… 
ME:
(SEE A POPPY FLOWER NEXT TO MY PHONE)
MOM!
Did you leave your poppy this morning?
I saw it next to my phone.
MOM!

On table, a note, “YES, I was here”. My arm was shaking when I held the note. 
FLASHBACK. MY DREAM. NEW YORK. 
STRANGER:
(ECHO VOICE, REPEATED)
YOU TOOK MY SPOTTTT!!!
YOU ARE A SINNER!!!
 
END FLASHBACK. MY ROOM. READY FOR SCHOOL.
Who can help me, I wondered. I took my bag to school. Like everyday, nothing much, homework and practice were all the same.
EXT. OUTSIDE FOOTBALL FIELD - AFTERNOON.
I returned to my practice. I asked the coach about the champion game.

ME:
When is the next game, coach?
Do we need to prepare for it?

COACH:
Championship game.
We do have to prepare. 
Especially  you. 
Stop thinking everyone is worse than you.

ME:
I don’t care.
I’m good enough to beat all of them.
I don’t need to do any practice.
I’m fine.

I dropped all my equipment then walked away. He thought about who i was. Being the Champion was easy like a piece of cake. I walked home in a bad mood. 
INT. HOME - AFTERNOON.
I saw a note on the wall, with a poppy under it again. That time, the poppy was dying, sere, and droopy on the floor. 

NOTE:
“You have to trade it for your championship.
This red poppy is for your life.”

ME:
(WONDERING)
Hmm…
Who was here in my house?
Why?
The stranger?
What does she look like?
The voice was a girl’s voice.

INT. MY ROOM - NIGHT
I picked up my phone and texted my girlfriend. 
“Hey bae, call me! I got something that was weird. It is haunting me.”
I laid down on the couch, looked out the window, and darkness was outside, far far away. I heard in the air the championship game sounds, cheering, touchdown! My phone rang, it said “Bae”.

ME:
Hey!

MY GIRLFRIEND:
Hey!
What’s wrong?
What is haunting you?
Are you ok?

ME:
I don’t know.
There was a girl.
She is in my mind  I don’t know.
She told me something weird.
She said I stole something from her.
It scares me. 
I saw my career but…
BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

She hung up the phone. Everytime, every single time, I called her, she hung up when I started being weird. Nevermind, I went to sleep, then I would have meeting tomorrow because I was president of national honor society… 
My favorite song played on the radio, “Crazy”.
“I remember when, I remember when,
I remember when I lost my mind
There was something so pleasant about that place
Even your emotions have an echo in so much space
And when you’re out there, without care
Yeah I was out of touch
But it wasn’t because I did not know enough
I just knew too much

Does that make me crazy?
Does that make me crazy?
Does that make me crazy?
Possibly…”

	INTERCUT. INT - HONOR SOCIETY MEETING, CROWDED.
ME(clone in dream):
Hey!
Pay attention!
We have to set up the tutoring schedule.
Any ideas?

ME:
Hey!
What are you doing here?
How did  you get my position?
You are not me.
Get out!

STRANGER:
SHUT UP!
You do not deserve that position.
…
Everything turned dark. I felt I was feeling. Last thing I remembered, all the faces were my girlfriend’s… 
INT. RETURN FROM DREAM - midnight.
“On a dark desert highway
Cool wind in my hair
Warm smell of colitas
Rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance
I saw a shimmering light
My head grew heavy, and my sight grew dim
I had to stop for the night…”
“Hotel california”was singing from my radio, like an old cassette. I woke up in the middle, that song giving me some hope for only a moment. I had to stop for the night. My phone rang. It was her phone number, the stranger.
	IN-MESSAGE.
STRANGER:
Don’t you like it? 
You think you are the best. 
You just killed someone’s hope, idiot.
I’m destroying your dream as what you’ve done.

ME:
Who are you talking about?
The Honor Society is my dream.
I got in it by vote.
What do you have to do it?

STRANGER:
21-21
But 1 vote was blank.
You stole it.
You made it. 
I knew it.
 
ME:
I did not know that.
Hey!
Hold on!
I didn’t do it.

(I texted my girlfriend right after its message)
ME:
Bae!
We need to talk.
Who did you vote for for Honor Society President?
Me or someone else?

GIRLFRIEND:
(B’s mom texts back)
Hey. this is B’s mom.
I’m so sorry to tell you,
she died this morning. 
On her bed was a letter for you.
I’m so sorry son.

ME:
NO!
COULD NOT BE THAT!
SHE TEXTED ME LAST NIGHT.

My eyes dripped tears as a stormy rain, darkness came to me so far. 

INT. MY GIRLFRIEND’S HOUSE.
Her letter wrote:
“Dear my love,
I did not want to leave you in this gloomy life. You called me about the stranger, I knew that girl was coming to you. Wantingto get rid of it is giving up your life. Killing someone’s dream is killing your dream. I did give her my vote but it was blank. She haunted me every night. I’m sorry. I love you! B as your bae”

Her radio sang her favorite song,”Take on me”.
“Talking away
I don’t know what I’m to say
I’ll say it anyway
Today is another day to find you
Shying away
I’ll be coming for your love,
Okay? And. 
Take on me.
Take on me.
I’ll be gone
In a day or two.”

I ran outside of the house andcried like a child, I lost my life, my lover. I killed someone’s dream by stealing it. 

FLASHBACK - HONOR SOCIETY - SPEECH DEBATING.
I’d met every goal to get that position, even bribing voters. 
ME:
Who do you think deserves this President position?
Who would serve you as a servant of God?
I know your heart as you’ve known yourself.
I’m going to serve in this position with all my abilities.
You know who I’m working for, Dr.Hannibal.
You’ve known him as a dictator, but 
He teaches me more than you guys have known.
Like Dr. Hannibal says, “Nothing made me happen. I happened”
I believe it is enough for my speech,
You know who I am and you vote for who you’ve known.

THE OTHER GIRL:
(SAME VOICE IN MY DREAM)
I just want to say…

BOOO… BOOO… BOOO… 

PARTICIPANTS:
We don’t want you, Girl.
We know he will do better than you.

PARTICIPANT 1:
YOU SHOULD SIT AND SHUT YOUR MOUTH UP!

PARTICIPANT 2:
I don’t believe in GIRL to lead this society.
HORRIBLE WOMEN!
PARTICIPANT 3:
Remember what happened to Clarice
“But the face on the pillow, rosy in the firelight, is certainly that of Clarice Starling, and she sleeps deeply, sweetly, in the silence of the lambs.”

I was silent but “Silence can mock”. I stepped back and silently whispered,“I have no plans to call on you, Clarice, the world being more interesting with you in it.”.
I was crunching her hopeless in greed of my power… 

BACK TO PRESENT. NO ONE HOME - AFTERNOON, CHAMPION GAME.
ME:
I have got to go,
It is time for the game.
It is easy. 
I have enough to be the champion of the night.
Mom!
I’m going to the game.
I left home and headed straight to the game.


EXT. FOOTBALL FIELD - NIGHT, CROWDED.
I had already taken their balls to a touchdown.
With a few seconds left, a ball flew in the air, no one stopped me, I was free, I could catch it, 1 more touchdown. “BUP…” “RUN…” “RUNNNNNNNN…”. I watched as a guy  caught my ball and ran an interception. 

ME:
NOOOO!
NOOOO!
I was shut down. TIME’S UP.
COACH:
(Cooly tells me)
Nothing made you happen. And you were happened also.
You don’t have to go to practice, nomore and nevermore.

ME:
Please coach!
Give me one more chance.
Please!
Don’t leave me.

COACH:
“God's creatures who cried themselves to sleep stirred to cry again”

I was depressed about this. “Over this odd world, this half the world that's dark now, I have to hunt a thing that lives on tears.”

INT. HOME - MIDNIGHT.
I got the stranger’s message, “not finished yet”
	IN-MESSAGE
ME:
You showed me, I would win the game
But why?
I lost because it was my fault.
But why?

STRANGER:
Arrogance.

ME:
I was not.
A mail from school popped up, “Honor Society Principal”, 
“Dear President,
We apologize to say that we are impeaching you for cheating by bribery in the election. You have two choices: have a trial in front of the academic judiciary or resign before 7am tomorrow at the Honor Society Hall.
Sincerely,
Honor Society Principal.”
I answered his mail: “Resign.”

INT. HONOR SOCIETY HALL - 7AM.
I stood up in front of everyone at school.

ME:
I’m President of the Honor Society,
I’m resigning my seat without trial. 
I have to say that I am impeached because I violated  election policy with bribery.
I’m faithful for your forgiving by resigning.
My seat will move to the Vice-president.
My apology is to everybody.

There was a girl who stood up and said.

THE GIRL:
What do you think when your dream is broken now?

ME:
I’m sorry.
I would like not to answer your… question.

I walked out of the hall and back to my classroom.

INT. CLASSROOM - MORNING.
I sat in class, closed my mind, feeling depressed. I saw everyone in class. My girlfriend’s letter ran over and over, “…Wanting to get rid of it is giving up your life. Killing someone’s dream is killing your dream… Killing someone’s dream is killing your dream… killing your dream…”. 
ME:
I think it’s time to pay… 
~~~
“Talking away
I don’t know what I’m to say
I’ll say it anyway
Today is another day to find you
Shying away
I’ll be coming for your love,
Okay? And. 
Take on me.
Take on me.
I’ll be gone
In a day or two.”
- END -