Thomas's Journal/Events

good story waffle, I should start typing the one I have this week...................

After “opening Pandora’s box”, his mind was in a whirl wind. His thoughts were just as jumbled if not more than before.
“Come on, kid!” Mark shouted towards him playfully “Help us flip this van!”
Thomas shot up and walked over to the few. Although still confused as to why he hasn’t tried eating the few friends he has left, he shoved it off to the side as he prepared to help lift the van back over to its normal stance.
“One!” Jill began to count as Steve, Mark, and Thomas lined up against the slightly raised side of the truck. “Two!” Like clockwork, they set themselves up in a healthy position to lift the van. “Three!” The guys heaved as Jill looked down at her stomach. She wondered, if the baby was even going to make it what with the virus and the extraneous stunts she’d put herself though. She then took a glance at Mark and cried a little. She knew here was neither the place nor the time to start a eulogy for everyone’s losses right now, but she felt terrible. She loved Mark, but she feels too much betrayal lying on her shoulders. Mark had something Dave, her husband, never showed. There was vibe of just sheer joy and relief, even as a thought, Jill’s eyes twinkled and her spirit flew. She felt free and alive.
A massive crash and a few gasps broke Jill trance. Her eyes became fixated on the van. She stopped just before to see Thomas. Her mouth dropped, and her eyes were slightly bulged. She blinked twice to make sure she was seeing this right.
Thomas stood there lifting the van by himself, hands over head. Thomas seemed calm and happy. He didn’t even notice the liter of blood tripping out from under his white t-shirt.
Thomas’s face changed. He noticed the blood that dripped from his shirt. He felt like he was going to be sick. He hates blood. He has learned to stand the sight of it, but to have in coming out of him set him over the edge. He threw up and ripped off his shirt.
The others gathered around him quickly. Each of them thought the exact same thing. “What the fuck?!”
Thomas finally calmed down and was stitched up with some fishing line. The others were confused and bewildered. They just witnessed a 15 year old boy, who looked like he struggled just to carry his own weight, lift up a car but, tore a massive part in his skin. It was like he was growing rapidly on the inside.
Unlike the other, Thomas just sat against the car tire on the van. He looked vacant and distant. His body felt like it was on fire. Energy was practically pouring out of him through his skin.
“Come on, kid. Let’s get out of here.” Mark led Thomas to the back door of the van. “Start it up Jill!” He yelled over to her just as him and Thomas made in.
The engine began to wind trying to start itself. “Come on, come on” Jill began chanting to herself slightly believing egging on an engine works.
A loud “vroom” pushed through out from under the hood as followed by the sound of pistons slightly squeaking. Jill tapped the gas pedal and the van made its way onto the shoulder of the park way. The sun was slowly lowering, giving off a glow of gold that masked everything like a sheet. The red and yellow autumn leaves laid in dark silhouettes that covered the trees and streets. The sky glowed with a orange sherbet that dissipated into the deep blue sea above. The sun sat burnt in the center of this beauty. The golden coin sat low in the sky giving its “last hurrah!” The scene was a beautiful and surreal.
Unfortunately for Thomas, the scene in the back was a different story. Steve and Debby haven’t let go of each other’s mouths since they got back into the van. They groped each other with lust. They looked like they were made for just each other. Thomas looked in disgust, betrayal, and hatred, but began to feel different as he thought about it. He looked at the couple wondering how happy Debby must be now that she is with a guy like Steve. Dating a football player of his stature is one step lower than finding a brick of gold. He began to choke a little when he came to the conclusion that he was be content with just seeing Debby happy, then caring about his own needs and wants. He just wished she knew he cared.
“What is this? A porn-o?” Mark shouted causing an eruption of laughter and embarrassment.
After silence filled the van once more, Jill had come to a fork in the road. “Hey Mark? Where exactly are we going?”
“Uh… we should go…” he looked down at the side of his pocket “to a town called Manasquan. It is just right off this exist. There should be help or boats there.” Thomas might have seen something he shouldn’t have. He subsided himself into his thoughts in a coma like trance.
“That phone… it couldn’t be… it must have been Gary’s… But why…”
“What the..! Brace your selves!” Jill screamed interrupting the silence. The van was headed towards a dead end parking lot at an alarming speed. Jill spun the wheel hard. She screamed as her view showed them heading towards the concrete base of a building. The van stopped just a few inches away from the wall the momentum, however, didn’t. The van was on two wheels now, teetering on the edge of flipping. Mark quickly got up and rammed the corresponding wall of the van. The energy pushed the van back over.
“What the hell was that Jill?!” She didn’t move. “Jill! You alright?!” Mark went from livid to concern in a blink of an eye. He pushed up to the front the van to assess the situation. Jill’s neck was slit open, he stomach sliced out on to the car mats, her chest bitten and mangled. Tears flooded Mark’s eyes faster than the blood flowing out of Jill. Mark was consumed with grief. He buried his face on her shoulder giving her a hug and 3 little words she deserved to hear.
“I love you.” He whispered and backed up to give her a kiss and shut her eyes. Mark turned to face the two standing with dumbfound. The fact that a person’s well being could change so quickly had completely warped and passed their mind. They couldn’t comprehend but, just went with the flow to help try and understand. Mark went back to Jill hugging her once more whispering good bye.
“I think we are missing someone…” Mark was trying to get a hold of him but, broke down once more as he peered his head through the window. He spotted Thomas sitting up covered in a bloody goop that trailed back through the van window right onto Jill’s seat.
Mark already broke open the back doors and ran towards Thomas. He was concerned about his safety. As much as it ravaged and chilled the very soul of him, he acted as if Thomas didn’t kill Jill.

I know this story has turned into the epitome of grunge, but I need to finish this for my own personal reasons. I will do my best to fix this up. EnjoY!

Part 3

Off the cool water, the cold air wisped into night sky with a slight stream of whispers that crawled through the abandon streets of once a bustling beach town. The sand dunes let the tan powder fly and fall to the raw concrete boardwalk.
The sun, pushing out its last bits of life, gave the sky a beautiful orange sherbet look with long streaks of white clouds beaming across. The sun was half engulfed by the horizon giving the white water a golden glow as it softly crept up on top of the barnacle covered “T” shaped rocks.
The magnificence was the last thing on Thomas’s mind. The others went out to pickup food and ammo, while Thomas waited inside of a cold damp bathroom. The wall breathed of graffiti and urine. The glass above the sink was in a spider web pattern, showing signs of a fight before the enviable began. Blood had trickled down like an awkward stream down into the sink. Each crack poked out as the blood hardened on the once soft cracks of the pottery woven sink. Half of it lay harshly next to a battered and bloody body. The man wore an office suite in a relaxed Faison. His eyes lids sagged down to the bulging point in the nose. The scars were masked behind layers of blood and bandages. Everything about this man looked almost un-real. It looked like he had gotten jumped but, the smile on his face brightened through like a baby’s laugh on an awkward elevator.
Thomas’s eyes diverted back to the walls. The man’s brains were painted upon the grey concrete. What began to make even less sense was the chemical burn mark on his hand. Thomas was no dermatologist but, the wound looked fresh. The skin may have healed but, it was still red. The other injuries threw him off completely and decided to just give up.
The man laid lonely in the far corner where Thomas just stared at him. “What made the bastard smile?” He recited this in his head. He noticed the bruises on his hands. “What was he doing before this?” Thomas’s heart raced. Each new observation brought him... closer to what the purpose of life was. Each new detail told a story that put him closer into a trance. He was feeling tense. Eyes wide open with intensity, he glared down the body. His eyes nearly budging out of his head. The tension was becoming too great. Then, the busied mind stopped.
A white cloud fogged his head. Then it faded to a black backdrop. Thomas had his eyes completely engrossed on the man standing up in front of him. In his mind, the man was alive. He stood in front of him in his white under shirt. The eye perimeters were red, the lids were baggy, and the nose seemed to bring it all together into one big compost pile. This topic will probably be locked for me spamming filth to an audience of one.
“You are not a delicate snowflake.” The voice compelled each syllable like a nail deeper into Thomas’s cerebral cortex. The voice began to intensify. “There is no heaven or hell. Death is a mind set. People die every day but, you shrug it off believing that it could never happen to you.” Each letter was like a knee to the gut and punch to the face… and it never felt so good to him. “You are a pathetic and worthless slob.” Thomas could feel the warm blood chill on his tongue when he opened his mouth. “Your death will be because of others. You are just one piece in the puzzle of life. We will build off of your dead corpse.” The sentences reverberated into Thomas’s ears and blew his ear drums out. Each pause let the words vibrate his mind harder. He felt so miserable because he knew he would have to wake up soon. “YOU ARE THE ALL SINGING, ALL DANCING CRAP OF THE WORLD! YOU WILL BE BURIED IN THE SAME COMPOSTE HEEP AS EVERONE ELSE! YOU’RE THE KEY TO THEIR SURVIVAL!” The wave blew him backwards into his own body.
Thomas awoke baffled but enlightened. Proverbs, theories, quotes scanned the room. His mind felt like a washing machine on full blast suddenly stopping. The words were mostly Latin or some other dead language. He thought it was graffiti he missed. He then observed the material used to write it. It was still wet and was the same color of the blood on his hands and out of the corners of his eyes.
It didn’t bother him. When you know the truth, what else can hurt you? He knew they were deciding on whose job it would be to kill him. It didn’t matter.
He began to read the text on the wall but, he knew none of it. It seemed like gibberish but, then something caught his eye. He looked back at the man lying on the ground. His once big grin sat flat on his face. The man had no grin and no wounds. The scars seemed to be healed and no open wound exposed through the translucent white dress shirt. Thomas began to twitch. His lungs became completely full after taking a massive gasp. Thomas’s heart was pulverized against his hard rib cage. It became harder to focus as the once completely lifeless man rose to his feet.

*Edit* I think I want to change somethings so I will just snag this.

Well, took forever to read, but was it worth it? YES. Keep the chapters coming. Get it long enough and you can publish it into a book

* Revising story*