Repose Memories (reposememories) wrote in repose, @ 2017-06-03 23:40:00 |
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Entry tags: | patrick gunster, ~plot: memories |
[memory]
What: Memory
Will characters be viewing the memory or experiencing it?: experiencing
Warning, this memory contains: weird
✡︎□︎◆︎ ■︎♏︎♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ●︎♏︎♋︎❒︎■︎ ♒︎□︎⬥︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♌︎♏︎ ♏︎❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎⬥︎♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎.
That's what he said right?
You remember playing in the backyard. The yard across from you had a new, impressive redwood fence around it that was taller than any tree planted in the backyard. You were old enough to answer the door when they came by to tell you that they were building it. Not that they were asking permission. You didn't mind. While they were building it, you got to see their backyard. Perfect lawn (not marred by tiny little vole trails), awesome trampoline (never had enough money for that) and toys that were always neatly stacked after they were done being played with (your house was a warzone). You imagined them like robots that were people until they powered off and were locked away in their holding cells.
But, you remember playing in the backyard after the fence was built. Your neighbor was your age and his parents never let him come over to play. He reminded you of a video game character. Striped shirt, red baseball cap, bad attitude. You were playing in the backyard when he was and you heard him say it:
"Their dad is never home but sometimes I feel like he's always there."
✡︎□︎◆︎ ■︎♏︎♏︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ❍︎♋︎&︎♏︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❍︎ ◆︎■︎♎︎♏︎❒︎⬧︎⧫︎♋︎■︎♎︎.
One time you were picking Patrick up from school and a little kid kept trying to push him over. This wasn't the average kind of bully that had a big square head and made fart noises with his mouth. This kid was small, he was smart, he would grow up to be a serial killer and a con man. You saw him for what he was and when he looked up to see you, he smiled like he knew everything. You didn't care about threatening a ten year old who was probably drowning puppies while his parents watched true crime tv. You told Patrick to get into the car, you got down to eye level with this kid and you said:
"Heya. So, I've got a question for you. Do you think even the worst person can change...? That everyone can be a good person, if they just try?" You laugh and it sounds awful like opening a door that's been locked tight. "All right. Well, here's a better question. Do you wanna have a bad time? Because if you take another step forward..."
👎︎□︎■︎🕯︎⧫︎ &︎■︎□︎⬥︎ ♓︎♐︎ ✋︎🕯︎❍︎ ♍︎□︎❍︎♓︎■︎🕯︎ ◆︎◻︎ □︎❒︎ ♎︎□︎⬥︎■︎
✌︎❍︎ ✋︎ ♒︎♋︎◻︎◻︎⍓︎ □︎❒︎ ♓︎■︎ ❍︎♓︎⬧︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎✍︎
You always heard the song coming from the shed. Tonight you felt it in your brain. It was a song you could feel, the guitar ripped at your flesh, the drums kicked your heart. It was your dad's favorite song and he'd been missing for weeks. You break into the shed, you find that glowing blue machine and you decide to try some science today. What happens next is a white flash followed by a dark room. You can hear the song playing, but it's distant and falling apart like ice breaking under teeth. There's a pinhole of light and it's only getting bigger.
And, there he is. Now just a melting white statue from a forgotten department store in a cheap black suit. He's as tall as you remember as a child and his smile isn't mean like yours can be.
He opens his mouth and you hear symbols but you know he's saying:
"ENTRY NUMBER TWENTY THREE: WHITE ALL AROUND IT FOLLOWED ME HERE. THE LIGHT KEEPS GROWING, BURNING MY SKIN. READINGS NEGATIVE. FOR MY NEXT TRICK-" The room is so bright now you need to close your eyes.
"Dad!" You try.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK?"
The light consumes you, steals him away. You land somewhere on the lawn and you know for a fact it's raining somewhere else.
☟︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ⬥︎♏︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎.