ZeroMerc

Truly I am not sure where this came from but I wanted to put it up for review. This is the very beginning of an idea that found its way into my head please read and review.

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As I enter the room my heart begins to pound on its own. There is something wrong, terribly, terribly wrong. As I round the corner I see my wife lying in a pool of her own blood. The living area where she lay is in chaos and disarray. Beside her body lay a weapon. I know immediately what I must do. I slowly bend down and reach for the weapon and point it at the only living thing in the room. ME. I know what must be done but I cannot bring myself to do it. It turns out after all these years of pseudo peace being peddled by the government it seems my grandfather was right. There would come a point when we must defend ourselves or lay prey to those that hate us simply for living life contrary.

With the weapon still leveled on the only person with in proximity to blame I cry out, “LORD WHY? Why would you do this to me? Have I not been faithful? Have I not done what is right in your eyes? I am a peaceful man! WHAT have I done to deserve this???”

After only a few seconds of time and what seemed like eons in my heart had passed I slowly raise the weapon. It was the only thing that made sense in my now chaotic and trivial life. How could I go on? How could I exist? As the cold weapon comes in contact with my head I feel a hand rest upon my shoulder. Lowering the weapon I begin to sob. I am so conflicted; so confused. Resigning to the fact that there was no other option I raise the weapon back to my head when he speaks…

“Matthew, what are you doing?”

Not even thinking my words begin to spill into the room at a rate I hoped would fill the void. “I am going with her. She was my world. I don’t want to be here. I don’t need any other reason. My life has one purpose and that is to be with her. I cannot imagine…”

“Matthew, you have other reasons to live. Think of everything you can accomplish.”

“I have nothing I want to accomplish. My life is meaningless without her. I just can’t…”

“Matthew please”

Spinning around to face the voice that was keeping me from my future if only by mere words… I see nothing in the room. Am I doing this to myself? What must I do that is so important? Why can I not end it? What is wrong with me?

I begin a frantic search from one room to the next. The kitchen, the dining room, the bedrooms up stairs; I can find nothing. What is the source of this voice? My body begins to shake as the world goes numb. Collapsing to the floor next to my wife the sobs begin anew. I am lost in a tidal wave of grief. As the world closes in around me I know that when I awake it will be a new dawn. A chance to find my new place in this cruel world that was brought to me. I am not sure why but as I spiral into uncontrollable oblivion I know I must live for my heart. My Melissa, even though she cannot be with me on this journey, is why I must continue…

marius

Gee whiz ZeroMerc, not sure what you mean by review? I have no clue how to review the writing of others but here's my best effort. It's a sad story. But, the idea of living because of your heart, because OTHERS need you to live, is pretty powerful, and appealing.

Curious that your story seems to parallel a conversation I had with my brother yesterday. He suffers from schizophrenia and was saying he isn't seeing much reason to live, isn't feeling much joy. So I listened, then shared some ideas I got from the author, Thich Nhat Hanh, a Buddhist monk. There is one story NH tells about a little boy with a beautiful smile. NH tells the boy what a beautiful smile he has and what a gift that smile is to anyone who sees it. The boy says "Thank you" and NH tells the boy, "You should say 'you're welcome,' because when you smile like that at people, you've given a gift!"

What does this have to do with YOUR story? Gee, I don't know. But, if your story is going to continue, maybe Matthew will find out he initially chose to live for his heart, for his Melissa, but that as he keeps choosing ... he will choose to live because he has found as many reasons to live as there are stars in the heavens.

This is what I pray for my brother who gets kind of depressed now and then ... and guess what? His name is Matthew! Anyway, I like how the Matthew in your story is true to his grief, and also true to his heart that wants to keep on loving. That seems particularly beautiful.

Doug

Great story, but as far as a review, I wonder where it came from. Does come from inside of you or is it just a fictional writing that just needed to come out. We have an outlet here for writing called ThinkWrite. I hope you join in and share your ideas with us through the thinkwrite thread. If you become the torchbearer you can extend the word count and may see more stories just like your own. I too have a very dark side. It shows in my pictures and in my writing too. Being Bi-Polar and a number of other psychobabble diagnoses I switch from funny to dark or whatever floats in my cranium.

To get back to your story I find it disturbing, which is ok by me, but I think there is more going on here than you portend or understand yourself. Am I close on this one???

Don't know how far this thread will go, but I get on almost every day. I'll check back on ya'.

ZeroMerc

truly i am not sure what spawned the story. I was reading info about an online game that I play when it came to me.

the word review should have said discuss. sorry about that.

My problem is that I can paint a scene well and come up with an idea but finishing it has always been a struggle for me. I will see what I can do to put more to this.

I was doing the thinkwrite stuff for a bit. I need to get back into it. I keep saying that and then find other reasons not to. Its almost like I am afriad to do well. ~shrugs~ oh well, its life

ZeroMerc

~Page 2~

Awaking the next day on my sofa the events from last night seemed a blur. I only knew three things for certain. One, today was Saturday which means I had no work. Two, my life starting today would be drastically different from before. Three, I had become overnight a very very dangerous man for I no longer feared death; with nothing to live for death was the least of my concerns.

“Matthew! Are you awake?”

Impossible; while the details from last night were still not entirely clear one thing was for certain. Melissa was gone; ripped violently from my life by an unknown source; she could not be in the kitchen right now. Afraid to move or speak I just sat there frozen in the last moment I could recall her with me. The room blurred and those precious moments came back to me.

I had been called away on a last minute business trip. I was going to be there for a week plus maybe a few more days. Since it was so sudden I told my boss she was coming with me for the weekend but would have to return home due to work on Monday. My boss was not pleased but really wanted me out there so she relented. It was on the southern west coast so it was warm a beautiful. We had spent all day Saturday on the beach and had spent Sunday morning with a do not disturb sign on the hotel door trying to drink in every last moment before she had to return to the mundane droll of life. The week had gone by uneventfully and I had been able to get my work done ahead of time. I was getting to leave the very next Saturday instead of Tuesday as previously planned. I had called her Friday night and shared the good news over the phone with her. She was excited but exhausted at work. She had been working at getting her third restaurant open all week and it had been hard not having anybody else around to help at home. Even though I had known it was not my fault I apologized. She said thank you and she was very excited for me to get home so things could be more normal.

That was the last time I had spoken with her. I had a brought a small bag of seashells with me from the beach; the kind with little swirls that were her favorite. Only to come home to have my heart and my purpose in life ripped away.

Forcing my eyes open I turn to the last spot I had seen her laying prone on the floor. She was gone! All signs from the previous night had been erased. How could this be happening? Franticly I begin a search; surely she must be here. As I continue to search I notice that everything is where is should be and yet nothing seems to be in quite the right. The two Santa figurines that she lets me leave up are on the wrong shelf. My TV is now fully centered in the wall between the kitchen and the entry way where it had always been closer to the kitchen before.

“Matthew”

The voice is coming to me again. This time it’s not as much of a comfort as before; there is more urgency.
“You need to get out when you can. You are correct. Nothing is quite right but you will fight yourself on every decision you make until you get out of here. I haven’t much time for they are coming but trust your heart and your memories on this one no matter how absurd they seem based on what you can see”

I turn to face the voice again only to find an empty room. I whisper as I am afraid to hear my own voice. “Who are you?”

“Later, for now I must go. Just remember get out as soon as you can and find your favorite childhood hiding place. Go there and all will become clear.”

“I don’t have time for games”

“Neither do I. They come. Remember Matthew”

As I turn back to face the kitchen I see a woman emerging from within on a cloud of pleasant scents of a dinner near completion.

Doug

Hmmmmm... This is starting to sound a lot like "free writing" to me. A lot of freestyle rambling with grammatical and spelling errors. The story is ok, but if I must be honest, are you inebriated when you write this stuff? Don't mean to be a critic, but you started this thread and I'm just trying to figure it out and what you want....

ZeroMerc

I am not drinking. I actually dont and have never drank well... anything.

I was under the impression that this was a site to share our creativity. Through the ThinkWrite posts I had started to see this take on a writing approach. Pictures are a wonderful outlet for myself however I am not much of a artist. My pictures really are for me.

Writing on the other hand is an area I feel that I excel in. I was looking for what people thought of the story over all and some possible directions it could go. For while I feel I am a decent writer I have completion issues.

Meh, its okay if this is not the place. This is not the first time I have made a mistake and I am sure it will not be the last. Just let the thread die since I cannot edit it away. I wont post here any more.

Doug

No keep writing if thats what makes you feel good. I don't remember anyone posting any "rules" to any thread or this site for that matter. Heck one minute nudes are taboo, then they resurface. I kinda like the story. I was commenting on the writing itself hoping it would be helpful in narrowing your focus. Sorry if I didn't help. If there is a specific need you have let me know.

Doug

And the drinking part is from someone who knows personally. Drank myself silly for most of my life, a highly functioning acoholic, they call it and have been sober for one year on Sept 11th. Just picked a day and stopped. With the amount I consumed daily everybody thought I'd be in the hospital. Not a sympton of Dt's etc. Now I could tell you some stories or write some too. Keep writing!!!