Monday, April 13, 2015

Writing Stories

"You are completely useless, stay here so as to not get yourself hurt." I wanted to be angry being told not to move from the dirty sewer pipe with my busted up hip, but she was completely correct I was hurt and shouldn't move. I did feel stupid though, injured, incapable of contributing and my magic was a liability in tight spaces. It was almost like being a normal person and I hate feeling normal. I also hate being in pain and down in the damn sewer without anyway of knowing how to get out of where I was. So it was a lot of hates I hate burning inside me as I watched Xanthi walk off to deal with the shifters.  She had a variety of weapons with her, most of them stabbing but I did see a make shift rifle on her back, so she had gone partially modern. I remember thinking back that the story she could tell would be a lot more interesting than mine as I stumbled blindly in the muck my hip giving me more shit with each step.

I tend to think that a lot, I look at people walking around and I wonder what their story is, who they are? What do they do? What are their dreams? I guess its a side effect of writing my own tale for all these years I wonder what other peoples story would be like if they took the time, or had the time, to tell theirs. I've asked people over the years to give me their stories, but I don't think they understand my desire for their experiences. I feel no one is really recording our history, I felt this even more as I was hobbling my way through shit, it was all I had to focus on to keep myself from being in the situation I was actually in (I do this a lot during horrible things, try and focus on something else, anything else most of the time it doesn't work). I could hear noises down further in, screams, howls, hisses, I could assume Xanthi was probably winning, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't preparing to cook those lizard bastards even if it meant killing myself (would have been a merciful death with how badly my hip hurt).

Eventually I found my way out of the sewer, and through a great exertion of effort managed to drag myself out of the sewer. Flagging down a police officer I found myself explaining to Chandler about the shifters and that Xanthi had probably slaughtered them all (she had mostly, a couple got away, but you know like before that will never catch up to me...) All in all this whole thing felt like a nice welcome back and I didn't even get arrested once! Of course it did mean I wound up in bed for two freaking months while I recovered, some of the craziest out of my mind months I've ever had and I've been completely insane a couple times!

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