In the style of Chuck Palahniuk.

Consistently writing in a notebook will often make the people around you nervous. I’m always writing in class and in my cubicle at the telemarketing job I have…or rather, it has me. I’m usually writing stories, writing love letters, basically, writing bullshit. After a while though, inevitably, somebody will ask, “What are you writing?” What they are really asking is, “Are you writing something about me?”

Krissy sits next to me in English 101. She’s this Christian goody-goody and every time I see her I’m astounded at the variety of Jesus-themed shirts that are manufactured and sold in the United States. It seems she has a different one for every day of the school year.

I could be writing about her, but I’m not. I’m trying to figure something else out because it seems like I always have something that needs figuring out, some code to decipher, a feeling to pinpoint. The trouble with me is that I never come to any concrete conclusions. I analyze, dissect, and pick apart every word spoken, every gesture given, every hug that lasts just a little too long until I’m left with a big, inky, black question mark. If I could see it, it would look like a slippery wet snake, its pink forked tongue exposed to form the dot at the bottom.

Andy sits behind me in Calculus 280. He appeared to me as a walk in unchartered territory, a quick jaunt around the wild side, really. And I have to admit...the offer is tempting...

Okay, yes. I do some writing about him, so sue me. It’s unavoidable, an offer too good not to abuse. The thing is he tells me I’m different and like the idiot love-struck girl I try so hard not to be, I'm falling for him. I will jump for him through flaming hoops suspended fifty feet in the air and, yes, I will get burned, burned bad.

My heart hurts. My brain hurts. Damn, even my legs hurt. I really should know better.

Stupid.

Stupid.

Stupid.

When it comes to LOVE, in my experience, this is the natural progression of things:

“I love you.”

(Followed by.)

“I liked you.”

(Not to be confused with.)

“I now hate you.”

(And the occasional.)

“I miss you.”

MISSING seems to be the only thing I can fully commit to these days. It fills every vein in my blood-filled being. And every cell, atom, and neutron that makes me who I am drowns in it.

“I want you back.” (See: MISSING)

“My life is SHIT without you.” (See: LOVE)

Ethan’s this boy I dated from work and I use the term “boy” loosely to describe him. He is 28 and with him I see companionship. I see stability. I see the trail of brightly coloured tattoos running from his chin to each of his knuckles that I know will drive my parents crazy at Christmas dinner.

In short, he’ll end up being just another excuse to eventually buckle down with my notebook and write about another hundred pages during Chemistry 94. It will inevitably coax someone into asking me what I’m writing. And I will have no more patience this time. I’ll put down my pen, look them in their dumb little eyes and say:

“You, you narcissist. I am writing about you. Now...can we drop it?”

"Everything smells so delicious," Mindy said as she helped her mother get their table ready for supper. "Tell me again what was the world like when you were my age?"

Mindy's mother gave a small laugh, setting a rather large roast on the dinner table.

"It was a much, much different time, Min," she said. "Back then, people were dying of all kinds of disease and there were wars and pollution and racism and sexism." Mindy cringed at the thought.

“And people killed animals for meat??” she asked incredulously.

"Yes, can you believe it? Things looked extremely dire back then. Most everyone I knew had given up hope."

“But then came Darius!” exclaimed Ash, Mindy’s younger brother.

“Yes, that’s right,” replied their mother. “Darius M. He was the scientist who came up with the exact formula that would set not just our country, but the whole world on a new, better track.”

“And tomorrow is the 100th anniversary of his discovery?” said Mindy as they all sat down to eat.

Mindy’s mom nodded, reaching forward to slice the roast with a knife. “Yes it is. We are now able to use the sun to power everything that used to run on gas and coal and electricity. Take this knife for instance. We use lasers for common everyday tasks now to precisely cut meat and bread and cheese and you never run the risk of slicing your finger or anything. When I was a child people were constantly running to hospitals to get stitches from all sorts of inflicted injuries.”

“What’s a ‘hospital?’” Ash asked with a mouth full of food.

Mindy laughed and said, “Haven’t you learned about hospitals in school yet, Ash?” He shook his head while continuing to chew.

“Hospitals are where people would go if they were sick or hurt,” explained their mother.

“I know it is hard to imagine, but there was a time when the earth was not safe and human life was fragile. A child your age could become deathly ill or die in a car accident or starve from not having access to any food. We are so lucky that none of these things happen anymore. And we have Darius M. mostly to thank for that.”

“It’s sad to think he will be gone in fifty years,” said Mindy after a bit of silence.

“Where will he go?” asked Ash.

Mindy’s mother tried her best to explain this as gently as she could to a seven-year-old. “Do you remember when Grandma turned 150?” He nodded. “And we had that party for her and she danced with you and then you saw her get that injection that made her go to sleep?” He nodded some more. “Since the amazing advancements in medicine and technology were making it so that people lived longer and longer, the world was becoming too crowded.”

“So, a world vote was taken,” Mindy took over explaining, “and people decided that at the age of 150 every man and woman of that age would be laid to rest with a humane injection that would put them to sleep peacefully and with dignity.”

“So, Darius will be dead in fifty years?” Ash asked looking a bit worried.

“Yes, but that isn’t anything you have to worry about for a very, very long time,” said their mother. “Although it is still possible for people to die before that age, it is very, very rare, Ash. So, you and your sister don’t have anything to worry about. There is a peace that comes with knowing exactly when your time here on earth will be up...and a lot of wonderful things can happen in 150 years.”

#scifi #sciencefiction #future #futuristic #family