BatCountry
02-03-2009, 07:28 PM
Ok, so here is a story I started writing
This is a rough draft, and I by no means claim to be a professional, or even decent writer
If I get some decent replies, or people wanting to read more, I will post more as I work on it.
I love constructive critism, but if you're just going to troll, don't bother posting...
Enjoy. :D
I awoke to the beeping of my small once white clock radio. 7:00AM was far to early to be getting up after a long night of binge drinking. Memories of the day before sporadically darted around in my head. I had lost my job at the bakery , after calling my boss "The most ignorant; cockroach looking man I had ever met", when he told me I had to stop eating all of the sweets I had been baking. After that I went to a local bar around midday, and ordered 4 shots of whiskey. The Bartender, who I lovingly referred to as "Barney" (Although that was not his real name) listened to me mumble, and rant about the inefficiency of the human nation for the next few hours. Anything that happened after that was like a hazy recollection of a dream, and it would take all day of deciphering for me to make any sense of how I made it to my bed.
The alarm on my radio gradually got louder, and louder until it was in its final phase which was more like a robot virgin being raped, then a alarm clock.
"GOD DAMNIT, I'm trying to think man!" I proclaimed and took a swing at my clock. It came unplugged and flew across the room, slamming into my lamp which fell to the floor and smashed. "Well that's that" I thought. My mind didn't quite comprehend what had happened because of the pounding headache, which could be symptoms of a few things, such a withdrawal, a hangover, or perhaps a fight from the night before still locked within' my memory. I slothed myself though the door way of my bedroom, into my hallway, not noticing the small thin glass fragments of light bulb crunching on the bottom of my bear feet.
"For the love of god what sort of things was I into" I thought as I examined my clothing which was covered by a crude mixture of puke, and blood. "What sort of mother fucker would get off slicing my feet up like this" I examined the small slits on the bottom of my feet. I could tell this day was going to be much like those intolerable high school after-party hangovers. I was going to need to break into the last of my drug stash. "But what then?" A nervous chill crept up my spine, as the warm water from. the shower washed over my body
This is a rough draft, and I by no means claim to be a professional, or even decent writer
If I get some decent replies, or people wanting to read more, I will post more as I work on it.
I love constructive critism, but if you're just going to troll, don't bother posting...
Enjoy. :D
I awoke to the beeping of my small once white clock radio. 7:00AM was far to early to be getting up after a long night of binge drinking. Memories of the day before sporadically darted around in my head. I had lost my job at the bakery , after calling my boss "The most ignorant; cockroach looking man I had ever met", when he told me I had to stop eating all of the sweets I had been baking. After that I went to a local bar around midday, and ordered 4 shots of whiskey. The Bartender, who I lovingly referred to as "Barney" (Although that was not his real name) listened to me mumble, and rant about the inefficiency of the human nation for the next few hours. Anything that happened after that was like a hazy recollection of a dream, and it would take all day of deciphering for me to make any sense of how I made it to my bed.
The alarm on my radio gradually got louder, and louder until it was in its final phase which was more like a robot virgin being raped, then a alarm clock.
"GOD DAMNIT, I'm trying to think man!" I proclaimed and took a swing at my clock. It came unplugged and flew across the room, slamming into my lamp which fell to the floor and smashed. "Well that's that" I thought. My mind didn't quite comprehend what had happened because of the pounding headache, which could be symptoms of a few things, such a withdrawal, a hangover, or perhaps a fight from the night before still locked within' my memory. I slothed myself though the door way of my bedroom, into my hallway, not noticing the small thin glass fragments of light bulb crunching on the bottom of my bear feet.
"For the love of god what sort of things was I into" I thought as I examined my clothing which was covered by a crude mixture of puke, and blood. "What sort of mother fucker would get off slicing my feet up like this" I examined the small slits on the bottom of my feet. I could tell this day was going to be much like those intolerable high school after-party hangovers. I was going to need to break into the last of my drug stash. "But what then?" A nervous chill crept up my spine, as the warm water from. the shower washed over my body