I'm writing a book

[Repugnant Abomination]

Ok, so, I'm working on this story and I thought it'd be cool to post updates on nubblies to get some feedback. Please keep in mind this is a 1st draft and it's still very rough. Mainly what I hope to get back from this is what people liked, what they didn't like, what they thought worked and what didn't. I'm painfuly aware of the many glaring flaws, as well as certain weak aspects of the writing itself...But I'm just trying to get through it without doing a whole bunch of re-writing yet. I'll post updates to the story regularly as I'm working on this nearly everyday. Anyway, enjoy.

(1st draft)
Deprivation
I lay in my bed staring at the ceiling. I do that a lot lately. I’ve memorized every bump and curve, every piss yellow stain and every warped bubble caused by water damage. My little studio apartment isn’t just low income, it’s a bona fide shit hole.
My name is Tom Johnson I tell myself. I’m a 24 year old rock quarry worker and I’m sick of it. Not necessarily the job. The jobs alright I guess. It’s a job. What I’m sick of is my life. I remember growing up I had big plans. My High school councilor helped me discover my passion for helping people, and I decided I was going to be a fireman or a doctor. I never had the best grades and I wasn’t the smartest kid in my class, but I worked hard and had decent grades to show for it. The summer after graduation I moved to Los Angeles to pursue a career in medicine, but not before I took a year off. A year turned into 6 and my parents no longer offered to help pay for school. “You’re a man now Thomas. You need to work hard for anything worthwhile in this world” My dad use to say to me. He still does.
Bored of staring at the ceiling I roll out of bed naked and slip on some ratty pajama bottoms. Flopping down onto the shit colored brown couch I hate so much I pick up the remote control and turn the television on. Great, Another VH1 special on the fabulous lives of celebrities. Fame and fortune never looked so good. I spend the next hour enviously watching men better looking than me wearing suits I could never afford walking down a red carpet that will never want me signing autographs and posing for fans I’ll never have. I watch the behind the scenes VH1 exclusive where they ride along with the latest Hollywood heartthrob Donny Dalinger in his Ferrari. He spends most of the interview talking about his new car and the 50,000$ pool he just installed in his mansion in Florida. I wonder if Donny Dalinger worked hard.
I hear the dripping of the faucet as I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. My palms pressed against the counter top and I’m hunched over it. My reflection tells me I’m average, and I hate him for it. I’m a 5’10 brown-eyed brown haired pasty white ball of averageness. I give my reflection one last rueful gaze and head to bed. That night I dreamt that I was Donny Dalinger.
Sometimes I wonder what it must feel like to be an overnight success, to no longer have to work or worry about bills, to be able to buy anything. Shouldn’t life be easy? Why can’t I have everything I want? Why do I have to work for everything? I call it the impossible dream, but it’s not impossible. I know there are people out there who are living the dream. Born with a silver spoon in their expectant mouth. Well fuck them and fuck their spoon. Life isn’t fair, but why is it never fair in my favor?
I wake up to the sound of a high pitched buzzing and nearly throw the alarm clock against the wall until I remind myself that I can’t afford to buy a new one. Instead I shut it off and rub my eyes. They burn, and the way my body feels I know I couldn’t have slept more then four hours. It’s 6 a.m. and I have a fun filled day of shoveling gravel at the quarry to look forward to. My breakfast this morning consists of milk and wheaties, the breakfast of champions. After I complete the three S’s (shit, shower, shave) I throw on my windbreaker and step outside into the brisk morning air. Los Angeles gets a bad reputation sometimes, but I wouldn’t live anywhere else. The sun is high in the sky already and casting its warmth down on me and I think maybe today isn’t going to be so bad. The sun always puts me in a good mood. Waiting for me by the curb is my truck. She’s a beater but full of character. A bright red 89 Chevy that’s never let me down yet. “Alright red, just you and me. Another day at the yard.” I slide into the drivers seat and grip the black wheel with my callused hands. After a few whines of protest she fires up to life and we’re off.
By the end of the day I am sweaty and covered in dirt. My body aches and my ears are numb from a day of listening to the dull drumming of heavy machinery. Red is also dirty and I remind myself to give her a wash later. All I want to do is go home, take a shower and sleep. On the ride home I find myself nearly dozing off several times. I turn the AC on and blow it in my face to keep myself awake. Dusk fades gracefully into night and tiny speckles of artificial light begin to pop up all over the city. Not wanting to be left out I turn my headlights on for the remainder of the ride home and then pop in some System of a Down into the CD player to keep me and red company.
Money is just like beautiful women. The more you have the more you want.
I pull up to the curb and jump out. On my way to my apartment I check the mail. Bills. Once I get inside I shut and lock the door behind me. I might not have noticed the envelope on the floor except that I stepped on it and nearly slipped. Did I drop a bill? Bending down I pick it up and frown. This envelope is not marked, all it says is “Important” on the front. I finger the envelope thoughtfully as I walk over to the phone and press the message button. “Hi darling, this is your mother. Why don’t you ever pick up? Are you depressed? You remember Deloris? Well she was depressed and the doctor prescribed her some anti-depressants. I don’t think she needed them though, all she needed was to take a good shit. That woman is constipated. Do you have a girlfriend yet? Honestly Thomas. Well I should go, there’s a made for TV movie on lifetime tonight I want to watch. Call me back. I love you.” My mom cracks me up, although I wish she would stop pestering me about getting a girlfriend. It’s not like I can go out to the garden and pluck one off a tree. I’ll call her back later. Right now I’m grabbing a beer from the kitchen and sitting my ass down. The beer of the night is rolling rock and I take a long swig of it as I collapse down onto my couch, the ugliest damn couch I’ve ever seen. I decide to stay away from the TV tonight, it will just put me in a bad mood. Instead I open my mail, saving the most intriguing piece for last.
Is this a joke? This has to be a joke. Inside the envelope labeled “Important” is a letter. I read it to myself again, this time out loud, not believing my own voice.
“Dear Mr. Johnson, you have been chosen by Mr. Vosh to attend a meeting at his mansion on the outskirts of LA, address 2342 Mideana Dr. Enclosed in the envelope is a password you will use to get through the front gate and a detailed map of the route to take. Your presence will be expected at 9 a.m. sharp on Saturday the 24th. Do not miss this opportunity of a lifetime. Tell no one.” I stared at the letter in my hand suspiciously, my eyes roaming over the typed letters, soaking up the black ink like I needed it to survive.
In the late 1970’s a billionaire by the name of Alfred Vosh made his mark on LA by building a Victorian style mansion just outside the city, the most extravagant and expensive home built on the west coast in American history. The mansion, or castle, as it was jealousy referred to later, sat in the middle of 100 acres of sprawling land, The perimeter protected by a 10 foot high gothic style fence. Few have ever even been inside the gates let alone the house. It was and still is nearly as mysterious as Mr. Vosh himself. Nobody knows where he got his money from or where he came from. He rarely makes public appearances and when he does he never answers questions. To call him a eccentric would only be hitting the tip of the iceberg. Today he is a huge celebrity in LA. Tourists and locals alike drive by his property, their prying eyes hoping to catch a glimpse of anything that might solve the mystery. The city can’t go a day without some outrageous rumor about him. The most recent one is that he secretly bought the Lakers and has threatened to steal the players souls if they don’t win a championship within the next two years. I learned all of this from watching late night TV shows about the man, but living in LA you hear things almost everyday. Nobody really knows what to believe at this point.
This has to be a joke.
The letter rested atop the coffee table as I paced back and forth. I felt a mixture of excitement and annoyance inside. If this is real then what could Mr.Vosh want? Chances are it’s just a prank, but by who? None of the guys at work would do this, and most of my friends have moved away. The envelope didn’t have a post mark so I couldn’t trace it. Somebody had just slipped it under my door. Why all the secrecy? Why can’t I tell anyone? Thinking about it though I realized there was nobody I could really tell anyway. It’s Thursday the 22nd right now and the letter said to be there on the 24th. Not much time. I walked into the kitchen and looked into my empty fridge bleakly. There are a few tortillas left, as well as some beans and cheese so I made two bean burritos and sat down at the kitchen table. I love Mexican food, and the taste of refried beans and melted cheese momentarily took my mind off the letter. Glancing at the clock I see it’s almost 8:30 p.m. Up I get and set the now empty plate on top of the pile of unwashed dishes. I crack open another rolling rock and walk back into the living room. The letter is their staring at me from the table and as I walk forward I rest a hand on the back of the couch. This goddamn couch that I hate so much. It’s right then that I decide to go on Saturday. Maybe Mr. Vosh wants to buy me a new one.

I called in sick to work today, and for once it’s actually because I’m feeling sick. My stomach is in knots and the anticipation of tomorrow is making me feel anxious. I decide to spend the day all to myself and all for myself. Red takes me downtown and in return I pay 3.75$ to have her washed. I do it myself, tirelessly rinsing and scrubbing. No blemish escapes my wrath, not when it comes to Red. Next we travel up to the West Hollywood area. I park Red and walk around for a bit, not window-shopping but girl shopping. Seeing all the beautiful women strutting around in their provocative outfits with their haughty little attitudes reminds me that I’ve been out of the game for to long. All the eye candy makes me hungry, but I settle for food for now. The trendy Giovanni restaurant appeals to me as I love Italian food, and though I can’t really afford to splurge on it I do anyway. I’m sat down at a corner table and handed a menu. I already know what I want so I spend some time just admiring the highly stylized décor of the interior of the restaurant. It’s color theme is lots of dark reds, maroon I would say, with 19th century avant-garde art lining the walls. The lighting scheme is indirect creating a nightclubesque feel to it. The waitresses of course are ridiculously attractive, a common theme throughout most high-end restaurants, but it is not a waitress who catches my eye, but an exotic looking girl sitting across the room from me. She’s alone from what I can tell, though I’m skeptical. The indirect lighting made it difficult but from what I could tell this woman is beautiful. She had raven black hair down past her tanned shoulders and piercing blue eyes that I could see even from this distance. She had that elegant, swan like neck that I always found myself so attracted to, and the black dress which hugged every sensual curve of her body only added to the breathtaking sight. But she looked sad. Her eyes were downcast and her shoulders slumped forward…”Can I start you off with anything to drink?” I snap out of my daze to see a waitress looking down at me and I tell her I’ll have a cherry coke and the chicken-parmesan. I say please, not because my mom taught me to, though she did, but because people in the service industry have it hard. It’s such a thankless job, which is why I got out of it four years ago. I now find my eyes wandering back to the dark haired beauty across the way. A man who looks like a manager is standing above her and shaking his head. She looks upset. They shake hands and he disappears back into the kitchen leaving her alone to pick at her food. Without really knowing what I’m doing I stand up and walk over to her. My brain is screaming at me to stop but my legs keep going until I’m standing in front of her. She looks up, I look down, and that’s all that happens until she says “yes?” I give her the best smile I can muster and say: “Hi there, I noticed you were sitting here all alone. I’m here alone too and I thought maybe you would like to join me?” It’s amazing how such a small thing like inviting a girl to eat with you can make you feel so insecure. I prayed she couldn’t see my legs shaking and didn’t notice the beads of sweat beginning to form on my forehead, but apparently she did because she shook her head and said in a soft voice “No, thank you, but I’m too upset to dine with anyone right now.” Personally I prefer it when a girl is a bitch about shooting you down, at least then you can hate her, but this, this only made it worse. It told me she is worth it, and now I wanted to know what was wrong, maybe I could help? I put on my understanding face and nod “Alright, well if you change your mind I’m right over there.” I point to my table and then make the long walk of shame back to it. It feels as though every eye in the building is on me, silently laughing at my failure. It’s not so much that I want to hang myself, just that I would prefer to be dead right about now. Was it my breath? Is my hair sticking up in the back? I obsessed over my failure, each agonizing detail replaying over in my mind, searching critically for any possible mistake I had made. I find myself nervously combing a hand over my hair, my right leg bouncing up and down under the table nonstop. I’m such a jerk. Who am I to just go over there and ask to have lunch with her? I’m nobody, that’s who. Beautiful woman, nobody, nobody, beautiful woman. She’s probably over there right now feeling awkward and wanting to leave. Way to go Tom, way to ruin her meal. It was just then as I held the butter knife to my wrist that I felt someone standing over me, but it wasn’t my waitress, it was beautiful woman. Her bright red lips parted to show off glistening white teeth and her nose scrunched up as she said: “I’ve changed my mind. I would love to join you for lunch.”
It’s not about what you need it’s about what you want.
My chicken-parmesan tasted almost as good as she looked and our time together was nothing short of spectacular. I learned that her name is Nicole Sanco, she’s Hispanic and has lived in LA all her life. She attends a community college and works downtown at a bookshop. She’s 22 years old and lives with her grandmother, or “nana”, as she calls her. I didn’t want to ask why she seemed to upset earlier, mainly because the conversation was so fun and positive, but still I wondered. Beginning to feel more comfortable I lean back in my chair.
“So” I say, “I’m having a really great time Nicole. Do you think I could get your number? I’d like to call you sometime.”
“I’m having a nice time too. You’re so easy to talk to. Of course you can have my number. It’s 323-787-0923.” She said this as she reached out and touched my arm.
Electric.
“I’ve gotta tell you, I was so nervous when I asked you to join me…” She laughed. I swooned. “But I’m glad I did now.”
She replied in her smooth as silk voice “You’re so cute. What do you say we get out of here and walk some of this food off?” Today must have been my lucky day.
The rest of our time together was a blur. It was like life had said, alright Tom, you’ve had enough bad, now here is some good to carry you. We spent the day together walking in the park, eating ice cream and talking about life. I was amazed at how intelligent she was: at one point she tried to explain calculus to me and I all I could do was shake my head and smile. She would smile too, often, but beneath the surface I could see it, just a tiny little thing, but it was there. Sadness. I would save my questions for another day, things were just going to well.
As I arrived back at my house that night, alone, I was filled with jubilation. I know we just met, but it really did feel special. We connected, and I can’t wait to see her again. I sashayed my way to the kitchen and gave a spin on the balls of my feet for good measure as I opened up the fridge door and pulled out a beer, a rolling rock of course, and took a long swig. “Aaaaaaah!” nothing had ever tasted so good. I headed to my “living room” and sat down when I noticed the letter on the coffee table. I had completely forgot! Tomorrow at 9a.m. I’m suppose to be at Mr. Vosh’s. I checked the wall clock, it’s 10:15p.m. Had I really spend that long with Nicole? Wow. I didn’t want to go into whatever it was I was going into tomorrow tired so I finished my beer and went straight to bed.

Time stops for no one.
I reach out a trembling hand and punch in the numbers: 345204. The gate opens and I’m staring down the private driveway of Mr.Vosh. I can’t believe this is happening. Me and Red drive cautiously down the stretch of black road and I take in the exquisite sights; I don’t even think about Nicole. Lining the drive is flawless white porcelain walkways, and on both sides of me is lush grass and trees as far as I can see. As I pull up to “the castle” I am blown away by the sight of towering marble pillars and 20 foot stone guardians staring down at me. The clearest water I’ve ever seen spills out continuously over the top of the mansion creating a waterfall that cascades down over the front doors, a golden leaf suspended in midair hangs over the center of the walkway protecting guests from getting wet. As I park Red and step out I hear classical music playing all around me, a surround sound outdoor audio setup encircling the entire property I realize. I walk through the waterfall and knock on the oak double doors and almost instantly it opens and I find myself staring at a kind looking middle-aged man. He’s dressed casually, but the clothes look very expensive. He’s about my height but that is where the similarities end. He is plump, his round face having a reddish hue to it and a big smile that seemed stuck there. Short blond hair fell lightly forward above his light blue eyes. I immediately liked him.
“Hello, my name is Tom Johnson and I –“ I’m cut off by a far deeper voice then I’m expecting.
“Mr. Johnson, please come in.” He checked his watch and smiled. “9 a.m. sharp. Well done.” He took me by the arm and led me down the most beautiful hallway I have ever seen. I try to concentrate on what he’s saying, but the inside of this place is staggering. Polished oak floors, hand carved Italian doors, sparkling chandeliers, and priceless paintings were a few things that caught my eye. We passed countless closed doors as we walked, behind each one a mystery. Finally we walked through a huge arched opening and into a dining room. In the middle there was a 20 foot long crystal dining table with 3 chairs on each side directly across from each other in the middle. At the head of the table was a single chair, more of a throne really. 5 of the 6 seats at the middle of the table were already filled. Apparently I was the last arrival. I was escorted to the final seat and realized I didn’t even know the name of the man who brought me here. Just as I was about to ask I felt my heart nearly skip a beat. Sitting across from me were 2 faces I’d never seen before, but 1 I had: Nicole’s.

[vaga1220 *]

Your post is as long as a book.

[vaga1220 *]

oh it's part of your book. My bad.

[vaga1220 *]

Look I'm really drunk see and I'm not vary smart any way.

[Mars Man]

I don't like the lack of paragraphs :P

[Deadly Crescent Kick]

looks a lot like chee's books.

i didn't read that huge post, i mean the shape of it.

[Orgazmo]

I read the whole god damned thing...which is really quite impressive if you know how much I hate reading.

I can honestly say that I like it...and I'm looking forward to the next entry quite a bit.

[Ironic Mustache]

I for one am riveted. Your writing style is similar to Catcher in the Rye. Make sure you're being careful to keep this original, it keeps feeling like other stories.

[SittinOnDubsWGW]

I have enjoyed it so far, well done. As stated above, keep it original, I too got a couple of feelings like "i've read something similar before," but overall I like it a lot, and look forward to the following posts.

[vaga1220 *]

323-787-0923 who's number is that? I just try to call it but it was busy.

[Orgazmo]

About the feeling familiar: I had feelings of both Charlie and the Chocolate Factory & ...that one movie where the dude invites people to his house and then releases them into the woods while he hunts them. And that one book where the guy sets traps for people. And the movie mindhunters. Don't make it any of those.

[ninjaface]

I liked it.

[THEINCREDIBLEdork]

Not bad, sentences flow well, you sound like a writer. Good job at setting a tone of "Deprivation" i guess, if thats what youre going for. But thats where the complements end.

Where the fuck is this going? A murder mystery? love story? A game of clue, where the scary/oddball/dying millionaire pits people against eachother to win money or carry on his business? Right now it sounds like a million other stories.

Without really knowing what I’m doing I stand up and walk over to her. My brain is screaming at me to stop but my legs keep going until I’m standing in front of her.

This seems totally out of character. Feels like something you tacked on and a desperate ploy to keep the plot moving. They need to meet under different circumstances.

I reach out a trembling hand and punch in the numbers: 345204.

Is this guy a huge faggot or what?

Keep at it, but don't quit your dayjob until I give you the thumbs-up.

[Carnivorous Flavor]

im surprised at your creativity.....the story jumps around a bit...but is still readable. did you create a full outline, clearly describing th e key points you need to get across? some details seem overly described while others seem weak.....

what happens next?(the best thing a writer can hear BTW...)

To me, this reads more like a short film than a novel.

[jbonham]

Sentence structure is a little lacking. Of course, you don't want to over do it, but occassionaly it felt as though i was reading something on the fourth grade level. Becareful using verbs repeatedly that are close together. I noticed "pop" back to back in two sentences and something else. Working on this now, will develop your vocabulary and make writing as an illustration easier. i don't think anyone pops system of a down. it just sounds corny.

Overall, the story is intriguing. Yes it felt similar to other stories but had a different feel underneath. It just needs more development like carnivorous said. I think this story could be something, and despite the little I got I feel as though you could deliver much more.

[theMerciless1]

emo

[Deadly Crescent Kick]

Ooooooohhhh snap!!!

[Repugnant Abomination]

Nicole looked just as startled to see me as I her, her crystal blue eyes searching my face for answers to our silent questions. There was no time to talk though. I am between two people, an older looking man, probably in his late 40’s, and a bombshell of a woman who fit the Hollywood standard to a T. Across from us of course Nicole, and two other men to her left. Nobody spoke but you could practically hear the buzz of our collective thoughts in the air. Sets of greens, blues and brown eyes all sized each other up; I wondered if anyone knew why they were here.
The man who greeted me at the door now stood at the head of the table, he wet his thin lips with his tongue and said in his startling deep voice “We’re all here now so I guess we can begin.” I couldn’t help think that we weren’t all here though. Where is Mr. Vosh? I had seen his picture before on TV and this man is not him. My thoughts were broken as he continued “My name is Mr. Crane, but you may all call me Jesse.” He cleared his throat and went on “You were all contacted in secrecy and I’m sure there are many questions on your minds as to why you’re here. But first let me introduce everyone. When I say your name please stand up. In order of arrival: Hank Finken.” Hank stood up. He’s bigger then I am, about 6 feet I would say. He’s also black. He wore vintage jeans and a white button up shirt, the top few buttons strategically left undone to showoff a powerfully built chest. On top of his head is a black cowboy hat, the front tipped up as to not cover his face. He nodded in a friendly manner to everyone and sat back down. Next Mr. Crane announced “Jezel Badoire.” The woman beside me stood up in a way that suggested she was use to and expecting somebody to pick her up. She cocked a hip out to the side, nearly hitting me in the face with it, and rested a hand on it. She definitely had style, that red dress couldn’t have been cheap. As I gazed up at her I noted the strawberry blonde hair and her icy green eyes. She has the complexion of a porcelain doll, pale and flawless. She sat back down. Mr. Crane didn’t miss a beat. “Nicole Sanco.” Nicole stood and the contrast between her and Jezel was palpable. Nicole has an inner light and warmth that I didn’t see behind Jezel’s eyes. She sat back down quickly, but I could have sworn I saw her smile at me just before her bottom hit the seat. Mr. Crane, who I decided I would call Jesse from now on kept going “Harper Douglas.” The man on my other side stood up. He’s overweight, mostly in the stomach. His neon green shirt was offensive to the eyes but paired with his white jeans made the outfit ghastly. Signs of balding were beginning to show at the front of the hairline and his weathered face seemed to have a perpetual sneer on it. He sat back down. Jesse continued, saying “Ben Smith.” The man on Nicole’s other side stood up. Out of everyone there he was most like me I thought. He was short, 5’8 I would say, and he had a humble face. Dressed in very casual jeans and a t-shirt he smiled and sat back down. My turn…I stood as Jesse called my name, nodded quickly, and then sat down.

“Last, but most definitely not least, your host: Mr. Vosh.” I canted my head eagerly to the chair at the head of the table, perhaps expecting him to suddenly appear in a puff of smoke. Instead the double doors behind the head of the table opened, splitting the religious scene painted on them in half. Only once the door closed again did the scene become whole again. The figure that emerged from the doors was not what I had expected, but then nothing would have met my expectations. Despite seeing him countless times on television I still pictured a God of a man to appear before me. He’d stand over 8 feet tall and have his own theme music playing whenever he walked. Eyes of silver and hair of gold would assault my eyes, and I’d have to turn away in fear of his brightness blinding me. A modest looking man now stood in the place of my vivid imagination. What is most alarming to me is the absolute normality of this man, his plainness, his dull, worn around the edges demeanor. Did he not bask in his own glory? Can’t he purchase more light to fill his eyes with? I tried to pay attention, the breath still knocked out of my underwhelmed body. He moved like a serpent, that is, he had a slithering agility about him, as if he moved forward by going side to side. His attire, casual yet business like hung loosely off his frame suggesting he’s a light eater. Brown squinting eyes studied us, like potential employee’s I hoped, for a time, until that time ended along with the silence. “Can anyone tell me why I’m better then all of you?” Vosh said while lowering into his psuedo throne. What a question! My initial offense at the audacity of such a statement rendered my tongue useless. I suspected the same could be said for some of the others too. Not Ben though, Ben was quick to answer “Your cash, sir. Money. Wealth.” “Very good Mr. Smith. That is correct. Throw your philosophies and ethics of self worth and equality out the window right now. As far as the world out there is concerned I have it all. You want what I have, don’t you? Anything you have that I want I can get, can you say the same? Why not? Money. Boil all of life’s problems down to a single ingredient and that’s what you’ll find.” He leaned back in his chair and I could taste his arrogance lingering in the air, assaulting my sense of smell. I hated him for it, and I hated myself even more for thinking he is right. “You all come from different backgrounds. Jezel here joins us from the upper class, at least that’s what she’d like to think. One could easily be deceived by her expensive perfume, yet Jezel knows better. She knows she’s clinging to the hem of the rich, desperately trying to hold on and climb up before she is shaken off and made to do without luxury. Isn’t that right Jezel?” She must have been doing her best Medusa impersonation for I swear she’s trying to turn him to stone with that cold glare. With a flip of her delicate wrist she whipped strawberry curls behind her shoulder and raised her nose to the air “Think what you want.” “I already do” Vosh replied with a knowing smile, continuing. “Harper on the other hand, well you’re lowering then Jezel can even imagine herself falling, aren’t you? For men like you a gourmet meal is mixing in a few chopped mushrooms into your bowl of ramen.” Harper shifted on his seat, much to the displeasure of his chair “That’s right, yeah, I eat like shit because I get paid shit and you know what? Shit is gonna taste like shit no matter how often you eat it, repetition only makes it worse. What’s your fucking point?” Vosh looked to his servant, Jesse, and nodded his head. Comprehension took place because Jesse turned and left. Vosh stood up and paced in front of us now, his sweeping gestures and bold proclamations putting us all under his spell. “My point is this: Everyone wants what I have. You six are a privileged few who will have the opportunity to get it.” Everyone exchanged confused but eager glances and then looked back to Vosh, who had our attention on a whole new level now. “I’m offering you the chance to rise up above your fellow man. To achieve wealth that the combined life earnings of all of you put together will never get close to reaching. You’ll feast with the Gods! The stars will be your footstool, the universe your dining table. Why do I use the universe as an analogy? Because your possibilities will be endless. Power, prestige, influence and wealth will no longer be mere words, they will be reality. Look around you! Look where you all are and then think where you have come from this morning. I can promise you this much: If you were to go back home right now it would be much smaller then you remember, much dirtier. And so, this, is my offer, to you. I’ll wipe the hardship from your face. I and I alone will take care of you, like a father would his son. Ask and you’ll receive.”

With his speech ending Vosh retook his seat and let all that he had said register with us. It was like a dream come true. Beside me Jezel was crying. To my front Hank, eyes as wide as the oceans imaging the possibilities. It was the same all around. The same, except for with Nicole. She had the same troubled look on her face that she did when I first saw her. Her teeth had seized her bottom lip and were chewing on it gently; God I wanted to hold her. “What’s the catch?” Did I just say that? I did. Voshes gaze slowly found me, I felt pierced by it, and now that he had stabbed me he would drain me of my essence. Lowering my gaze to the table I squirmed in my seat uncomfortably. Having achieved his desired effect Vosh said “The catch is only one of you will get what I am willing to give. One. I will take from the rest of you the most valuable thing you have. Your life.” It was right then that Nicole shot up out of her seat, boldly pointing a finger at Vosh and saying with conviction “Nothing is worth risking my life for, and quite frankly I don’t appreciate you building yourself up at our expense. You can have all your money, but you would do well to remember that you can’t take it to your grave with you. Now if you’ll excuse me…” She turned to leave; the first girl in a long time I had strong feelings for, stood up to a man I have idolized, and rightly said to him what nobody else in the room had the courage to say. She would not go unanswered. “Nothing but another life, dear sweet Nicole. How is your Nana feeling these days? From what I hear stomach cancer is one of the most painful ordeals a person can go through, but she seems to be putting up a pretty good fight. Tough ol’girl that she is, but make no mistake, she will succumb to it in the end. If only you had the money to help her fight it, but those darn MD’s are just so expensive these days.” He put a hand to his cheek and shook his head with mock sympathy. I forced myself to stay seated, though all I wanted to do was go and comfort her. How could Vosh say those things to her? Nicole’s back was to the whole group, but by the movement of her arms and shoulders I could tell she was wiping away tears before she turned around to face us. With great reluctance she walked to her chair and sat back down. “That’s a good girl.”

Jesse emerged through the hallway carrying a black briefcase. He set it down on the table in front of us and opened it. From within he pulled out 6 documents and passed them around to each of us. Vosh explained “These documents are binding, by law. Once you sign them there is no going back. But only a fool would sign his life away without knowing what he’s getting himself into, I will save you from that foolishness. It’s a contest, and the rules are simple. Whichever one of you can stay awake the longest without any sleep will be rewarded 50 million dollars. That’s right, 50 million, and all you have to do is not go to sleep. You may use whatever natural methods at your disposal to stay awake, be it exercise or running your head under cold water. What you may not do is use any kind of drug to aid you. This includes but is not limited to caffeine, nicotine, herbal supplements, or any kind of energy drink. You’ll be outfitted with heart monitors which will also serve as a location device so we’ll know where you are at all times. This contest area is restricted to my property, inside and out. Now this is the most important part so listen closely. If you fall asleep, you lose, not only the game, but your life. How is not for you to know. There are 6 of you right now, so if you all agree you’ll be up against 5 other people. 5 people stand between you and obscene wealth. The money will not be taxed. When you’re as powerful as me you find that there those of us above the law.” Vosh stood up then and motioned to the door “You’ll have 10 minutes to talk amongst yourself and make a decision. If you want to take a shot at greatness then sign, if you want to go back to your minimum wage jobs and fast food you know where the door is.” And apparently so did Vosh because he then exited the room, Jesse behind him.
Everyone was quiet. I stared down at the document in front of me trying to comprehend the weight of this decision. All I’ve ever wanted is what this man is offering to me and if I don’t sign will I live to regret it the rest of my life? Of course if I do sign the rest of my life might not be very long. Is that such a bad thing? Am I happy? Have I done anything worthwhile with my life? Will I ever? “Tom?” This is a once in a life time chance. I can beat these people, I want it more then them. “Tom!” I looked up from the legal papers to see Nicole reaching over the table and grabbing my hand. Everyone else was up out of their seats, some pacing, some arguing; the background noise became reduced to a dull humming in the background as Nicole captured me in her eyes. “Tom this is madness. It has to be some sort of scam and even if its not it isn’t worth it” she squeezed my hand “You should leave, go…” “Go back to what!?” I interrupted “You don’t know me Nicole, not that well anyway. I don’t have anything to go back to. This is like a dream come true, this chance. How can I go on with the rest of my life knowing I had an opportunity like this?” Now her other hand came over to sandwich mine between hers “Opportunity? Don’t let yourself give in to this temptation.” I could feel myself beginning to get angry. Pulling my hand away I stood up and put my hands on my hips “What’s all this talk about me? What about you?” The entire room seemed to grow louder as heated debate escalated between everybody. “Tom, I need this money for a good reason. My Nana is going to die, but I might be able to save her with this money.” I started pacing. “Well how wonderfully cliché!” Her eyebrows creased inwards as she said: “Why are you getting so upset?” I let out a lengthy sigh and sat back down. I wanted her to take my hand back into her own again, but she didn’t. “I’m sorry Nicole, I didn’t mean to sound like a jerk, it’s just, it’s 50 million dollars, you know? This is, it’s unbelievable. Think about it: 50. Million. Dollars. That’s a legacy. That’s setting up your bloodline for good. If I lose nobody would miss me. My parents would be sad but lately it feels like they don’t even care about me. Sometimes I wonder if I even care about me…” Jesse walked back into the room and in his booming voice announced that we have 1 minute left. Everyone got quiet then and retook their sets. It was time to make a decision.

We all signed.

Jesse put all the signed documents into a black folder and tucked it under his arm. “Well done. You’ve all been given the rules, you have free range over the entire property. There is nothing left to say other then: Good luck.” And then we were alone. I stood and walked around the table, offering my hand to Nicole “C’mon, let’s go exploring.” As she stood up Harper laughed, the kind of snorting, high pitched squeal of a laugh that even a pig would be ashamed of “You two do realize that only one of us can win. You’re competing against each-other!” He raised to his feet and made a sweeping gesture over the rest of us “If I have any advice to you it would be to go and get some sleep” he then, much to everyone’s astonishment, picked his nose and flicked a booger towards Ben “Hey Benny, catch!” Ben narrowly avoided the flying goober, stood up, and would have got into it with Harper if Hank had not stopped in between the two of them “Take it easy you two” Hank said, with authority. Ben pushed his hair back indignantly and sulked “Well then tell him not to call me Benny.” Harper smirked, pushed Hanks hand away and walked out of the room. I had thought Ben would be more offended by the booger flicking then the nickname.
I lead Nicole by the hand out the way we had come in. To my delight she didn’t pull away, instead she clutched me tightly and I couldn’t help but think maybe she needed me as badly as I needed her. “This place is so big, where do you think we should go first?” “Tom something Harper said is bothering me. He said we’re competing against each-other, and he’s right, we both can’t get out of this. One of us is going to die.” I knew she was right, but I shook my head and said softly “I’ll never be against you Nicole. When the time comes we’ll deal with it then, for now let’s enjoy the time we have.” It must have re-assured her because she smiled and said “let’s go outside while there’s still sun. I have a feeling our time here is going to be very dark.”

[SittinOnDubsWGW]

I still like the story so far, was kind of let down when the contest was "don't fall asleep or you die." Other than that, still pretty solid. I enjoy the writing style.

[THEINCREDIBLEdork]

lol, why do they have to die? the story would be much better if they started going crazy and shit from lack of sleep and somebody surprised you by killing someone

[Ironic Mustache]

It's a little too Charley and the Chocolate Factoryish for me right now... Like incredibledork said, you would do well to have sleep deprivation play some insanity role.

[Repugnant Abomination]

Ok, so the whole thing about staying awake or you die...

What I'm trying to get across is the mindset, which I believe a lot of people have these days, that yes, I (I being the reader) would seriously consider risking my life for _____ amount of money. The character of Vosh has a lot more at stake then just the 50 million dollar reward he's offering, but his motives are not yet known to the reader. Part of it is that in order for him to offer something so great the participants will have to offer something great too. If they weren't risking theif life then the story wouldn't be able to convey the sacrifice they're willing to make for money, which is kind of the heart of the story. It makes the stakes higher. I'm not quite sure yet if I'm going to try and keep this story as realistic as I am able to within the idea of the book, or if I'm going to lean more towards the absurdist kafkaesque style.

Keep the feedback coming though, this is good. Does the fact that they have to put their life on the lines really come off as out of place?

[Repugnant Abomination]

Originally Posted by Ironic Mustache

It's a little too Charley and the Chocolate Factoryish for me right now... Like incredibledork said, you would do well to have sleep deprivation play some insanity role.

I've never read or seen charley and the chocolate factory...

However, yes, I got the whole idea for the story from my research into sleep deprivation. That's the whole ideal. These characters are thrown into a incredible situation made even more intense by the fact that as the days pass by they begin to lose their sanity. Some of the things to look forward to will be: extreme sensitivity to light, mood swings, blury vision, paranoia, hallucinations, delusional, sickness, etc. Friendships will be tested, reality will be questioned and revelations will be revealed

[Ironic Mustache]

Hey, I don't have your phone number anymore. You should call me or PM it to me.