No Way Out

[brandoprojectm]

I'm now trying my luck at a mystery horror, just to see how I do. Here's a short preview.

I stared at the photo for the tenth time. Or something like that. I had lost count.

If things had gone differently, maybe I could have lived just like many other normal people. Settled down. Established a family. Of course, that was no longer possible. She was gone forever.

Nobody told me that she was dead. I saw her face in the obituary one Friday morning, but I just wouldn't believe it. I called her family members desperately, every single one of them, but none answered. How could they answer? If it was true, which was still hard for me to accept, they would be too busy lamenting her death.

Her death.

It proved true.

It must have been the darkest day I experienced in my entire life. My head was too confused to process the billions of thoughts that were going through my mind at that moment.

"Her funeral is tomorrow."

One of her family members had finally contacted me. The feeling I had been evading for so long now pounded itself into my head immediately.

Even seeing her cold, lifeless body, I wasn't completely convinced. I just couldn't accept it. Maybe it was all a bad dream. It would all go away soon.

Even her mom noticed that I was thinking this. She came up to me, with tears rolling slowly down her face to join the others that had come before, and gave me a sheet of paper. "I-I know. It...it's true..." Then she ran off.

The sheet of paper read:

Linda Diaz
11:35 AM, 12/11/09
Cause of Death: Unclear, Multiple Cut Wounds by Unknown Instrument

I didn't even bother to read the rest of the document. The tears in my eyed would've rendered it unreadable anyway.

And now, here I am, sitting in my apartment, on a bed way too big for just one person. I put down the photo gently on the cabinet, and picked up the piece of paper next to it. The prototype for the invitations to our wedding.

At the foot of the page, a note written Linda's gentle and charming handwriting.

"12/11/09: The Big Day!"

[MICrophone]

Whoa, nice! This could be good…you can write a serious story, huh? Neat! (As opposed to Runouw's Forum, which is more of a goofy action story.)

[Blablob]

It's pretty good. I wouldn't call it a step-up from your other story, but it's still very well done. Keep it up

[Suyo]

Excellent writing, but currently it feels more like a drama than a mystery horror.

[Ridder]

Now since I'm completely retarded, I decided to use up my defibrillators to bring this back to deth.

I'm now trying my luck at a mystery horror, just to see how I do.Here's a preview just to see how much pain and suffering it will cause you.

I stared at the photo for the tenth time. Or something like that. I was never good at counting, hell, I never passed the 3rd grade because I couldn't tell what came after 99.

If things had gone differently, maybe I could have lived just like many other normal people. Settled down. Established a family. Of course, that was no longer possible. I was 49 years old and I still couldn't tell what came after 99.

Nobody told me that this number was important. I saw my life fail because I was so retarded, but I just wouldn't believe it. I called every physician, every therapist, every single one of them, but none had the answer. How could they answer? If it was true, which was still hard for me to accept, I was a mentally retarded.

My lack of intelligence.

It proved true.

It must have been the darkest day I experienced in my entire life. My head was too confused to process the billions of thoughts that were going through my mind at that moment.

"You're brain has several tumors in it."

One of my family members had finally contacted me. The feeling I had been evading for so long now pounded itself into my head immediately.

Even seeing everyone graduate elementary school but me, I wasn't completely convinced. I just couldn't accept it. Maybe it was all a bad dream. It would all go away soon.

Even my mom noticed that I was thinking this. She came up to me, with tears rolling slowly down her face to join the others that had come before, and gave me a sheet of paper. "I-I know. It...it's true..." Then she ran off.

The sheet of paper read:

John Meyer
Status: Mentally Retarded
Cause of Retardedness: Brain Tumors
Recommendation: A janitorial job in the army.

I didn't even bother to read the rest of the document. The tears in my eyed would've rendered it unreadable anyway.

And now, here I am, sitting in my apartment, on a bed way too big for just one person. I put down the photo gently on the cabinet, and picked up the bag sitting next to it. Inside which was a regular sausage on italian bread with relish and ketchup.

On the front of the bag was my buddy Frank's greased up and blocky handwriting.

"12/11/09: You're our 100th customer!"

[brandoprojectm]

Meowr. Hiss. Purr.

[Ridder]

WUT?

[TheMMMification]

Riddah, you make me laugh. You should keep doing this.