Writer’s Block is a Bitch
“Why aren’t you writing?” “I’m getting there. I just, um, I just haven’t figured out a good starting point yet.” “Excuses…” “I’m not making excuses! You want this done right, don’t you?” “I want it done! Period!” “You can’t rush the process, man. It’s not as if writing your story is my only priority, you know?” Silence. Has he left? Did I make him angry? Shit! I can’t let him slip away. I need this. I need him! “Look, I’m sorry! I truly am, but things have been crazy busy lately. You understand, right?” “You have done little more than fidget with your device and stare at the television all day!” “This is the first chance I’ve had to relax in weeks!” “More excuses…” Christ, he’s being hard-headed today! Ok, keep your cool, Francis. He hasn’t stormed out yet. Just talk him down and convince him to wait just a little longer. “I promise, I will get this written, my friend. Please don’t lose faith in me!” “Tomorrow…” “Huh?” “If you do not begin writing my story by tomorrow, I will seek out one who will.” Well, that was blunt! Ok, yeah, I’ve been dragging my heels on this one, but I want to be sure it’s right! Why can’t he see that!? Fuck it, I’ll give him what he wants. The last thing I need is for him to bail on me. If it’s shit, I’ll just come back and revise it later. “Ok. I’ll start right now. Cool?” “No more stalling?” “Yeah, I got this. Just bear with me, yeah? I don’t want to lose you, so just hang in there, will you?” Silence again! Really? Why won’t he just work with me on this!? “You will start now?” “YES! Christ! I would’ve already started if I didn’t have to practically beg you to stick around!” “Calm yourself! You cannot expect to lay down coherent sentences if you insist on pitching tantrums like a spoiled child.” I’m acting like a kid!? What the hell has he been doing this whole time!? Ok. Woosah…I got this. Just be cool, let him be the boss, and give him what he wants. “Ok. I’m calm. I got this. We good?” Nothing again. Did he just nod? I bet he just freaking nodded, didn’t he? He knows I can’t see him! Hell with it, I’m starting either way. Laptop, check…energy drink, check…half pack of smokes…shit… I’ll get more later. If these will last through the first couple of chapters, maybe he’ll let me take a break to run to the store. Welp here goes nothing… • He was unlike anything I had ever laid my eyes upon. He was tall; far taller than anyone I had ever seen, in my whole life. I had no way of • “You sort of repeated yourself there.” “Huh?” “Well, first I was unlike anything you had ever laid your eyes on, then I was taller than anyone you had ever seen…” “It’s a first draft, man. I’ll pretty it up later, ok? I just want to get the ideas down. I’ll clean them up when I start editing and such.” Is he really going to be hovering over my shoulder this whole time!? Christ, this is gonna be a long ass day! “Still, it does seem just a little bit crude, don’t you think?” Woooo…saaaaah…In through the nose, out through the mouth. Damn it! He’s right. It reads like a damn ninth-grade English assignment. Ok, still on square one. Not much to backtrack. “You’re right. I’ll change it.” Yep, he’s nodding again, isn’t he? • “What is this thing?” I asked myself, slowly tracing my gaze upwards, to fully take in the enormous size of the creature which stood before me. I felt my feet acting almost independently from my mind, as I slowly backed away; my unblinking gaze unable to free fro • “You typed ‘slowly’ twice…” Jesus. “I repeat the same words a lot in the first draft. I’ll pull up the thesaurus app later and pretty it up some.” “But what if you forget?” “I won’t forget, man! It’s part of my process. I’m often only marginally descriptive at first, just to be sure I get everything in the right place, you know?” Ok, back to it… • As my eyes refused to bre • “But what if you do forget?” “OK!!… I’ll…change…it…” “I just want to be sure you are taken seriously…” “Gotcha.” • “What is this thing?” I asked myself as I slowly traced my gaze upwards, to fully take in the enormous size of the creature which stood before me. I felt my feet acting almost independently from my mind, as I began to gradually back away. I could not even convince myself to blink, let alone break my gaze from this mesmerizing sight. While my eyes remained transfixed upon the behemoth, I was momentarily startled by my back hitting the wall behind me. • “Is it truly necessary to mention that the wall was behind you? Surely it can be taken for granted, given the knowledge that you were indeed backing away; therefore, it is n…” “First…draft…” “Apologies, I just…” “Do you want me to write this or not!?” And he’s silent again. I don’t even care anymore. He can go to hell at this point! Cool it, kid. Don’t let him get under your skin. Just keep doing what you’re doing. • I was almost paralyzed, with my back pressed firmly against the brick and mortar. I knew he had noticed me. His flickering flame-like eyes had not broken from mine since • Shit! Brain fart. Since when? I mean, of course he would’ve noticed me, but did he show up, or did I? “Is there a problem?” “No-no, just working it out.” “You appear frozen in place. Do you need a hand?” “No. Um. Thank you. I’m good.” • His flickering, flame-like eyes had not broken from mine since I found myself aimlessly wandering through the deserted subway tunnel. How did I get here? Where was I before I was in this darkened tunnel? Who exactly am I? • “Is this not somewhat similar to something else you have written?” “Shit! I think you’re right.” “In addition, and forgive me for being crass, but isn’t his story supposed to be about me?” “I mean, it is, but the narrator needs to have his own interesting thing going on too, you know?” Christ. He’s right again, isn’t he? This isn’t supposed to be about some schmuck with amnesia! This is a monster story, not a lost soul story. Ok. Just one more readjustment. • His flickering, flame-like eyes had not broken from mine since I ran into the deserted building, seeking shelter from the storm. I couldn’t help but wonder if I should have just run back to the car I left parked a few blocks away, rather than escaping the frigid rain in such a place as this. The fact he had not attacked me by now, led me to believe that he was perhaps not malicious, but he still would not look away; neither would I, for that matter. Though my back was still stiffened; both by the fear, and the wall it was pressed against, I did begin to feel just a little more relaxed. Most tales I had read of monstrous creatures, would suggest they would not allow any prospective prey to hold onto their own lives for long. It was a horrendous beast for sure, but perhaps, it did not have a sinister agenda, maybe • “You’re making me sound like a pussy!” “Well, I can exactly have you chewing on the narrator before the story even gets going!” “I would never allow some random, strange human to entertain a staring match with me when I could tear him to shreds with ease!” “Well, you haven’t shredded me yet.” “Only because you have me locked away in your mind. Were I to be freed, I would end this discussion by stripping the meat from your bones, before writing my story myself, including all of the juicy details of your demise!” “Okay! I get the point! Big monster, baaad!” “That’s another thing…” “Christ…” “I never imagined myself to be any larger than a man. How could I even remain hidden for so long, were I as tall as a small house?” It’s a fair point. Hell, I don’t think I originally envisioned him as some sort of massive beast either. Ok. Square one again. Last time around. “Yeah…ok…” • I wasn’t always prone to taking aimless strolls in the middle of the night. It was cool outside, but not especially bitter. I enjoyed the winter, as I had never been much of a warm weather guy. Still, my girlfriend’s sudden death, only weeks before, was weighing heavily on my mind. It was an unpredictable swarm of emotions that would come and go as the day’s hours progressed, as I had planned to break up with her that very day. I had even begun rehearsing what I would say to her when I got the call about her body being found. I’m unsure of what was causing me more guilt; my plans to end our relationship, or the fact I had been seeing someone else behind her back. I bargained with myself, that I could not be held responsible for whatever inspired some sort of sick individual to leave her as little more than a bloodless and lifeless corpse; discarded like last week’s garbage in the public waste dump. • “I am not a vampire…” “I know that…” “A bloodless body will lead the reader to assume a vampire killed her.” “Well, yeah, I suppose, but only at first.” “When it is revealed that I am not that which was inferred, some may be disappointed, or perhaps annoyed by the unnecessary red herring.” Shit. He’s right again. • I bargained with myself that I could not be held responsible for whatever inspired some sort of sick individual to tear into the flesh of her midsection before leaving her for dead. Still, had I not spent that night in the arms of another, perhaps she would not have found herself bloodied and dead in the middle of that deserted alleyway. It was that very guilt that led me out into the cool night air, in an attempt to escape my cluttered thoughts for a time. Perhaps my assumption that walking in silence would provide any sort of distraction was not the most well-thought-out reasoning, but the more I pressed on, the more I dwelled on what I had lost. My own emotions practically baffled me as the longer I lingered on the things I could not change, the more I convinced myself that I truly loved her. This only served to make me even more furious with myself, as it was I who had betrayed the love she felt for me, by taking advantage of her trust. I’m not entirely sure how long I had been walking; consumed by little more than my shame and guilt, when an unusual sound broke my pensive gaze from the darkened road which lay ahead of me. I don’t mean to suggest that it was entirely foreign to me, as it was somewhat reminiscent of something familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. The closer I got to it, the louder it grew, mak • “Sort of redundant, isn’t it?” “Ugh, what!?” “Well, it stands to reason that the sound would increase in volume the closer you approached…it seems an unnecessary line, is all I am saying.” “First…fucking…draft… it’s not going to be perfect!” “Apologies. I do not mean to interru…” “But you did interrupt! You keep interrupting!! How the hell am I supposed to get through your precious fucking story if you keep cutting in when I finally get on a roll!?” Shit! I shouldn’t have let myself get frustrated. I know what he’s getting at and, as usual, he’s right, but Christ! I wish he would stop breaking my focus! “I would appreciate it if you would desist in spilling your venom on me. I only wish for this to be done right.” “I know, man, but you need to let me write! Just trust me, yeah? Once I get the first draft down, you can pick it apart all you like, but I need to get this on paper before it leaks out of my noggin, you get me?” “It’s not on paper…” “It’s a figure of speech! Christ!” “… apologies…” Woosah… • I won’t suggest that it was entirely foreign to me, as it was somewhat reminiscent of something familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. As the volume of the sound increased, I knew I had to be drawing closer to it. The louder it got, the more I grew aware of what it must be. The gashes which were torn into the flesh of the woman I loved; this is the sound whatever ripped into her skin would have echoed into the night. Could her murderer be lurking on the same deserted streets I traversed at the time? Was another losing their life to this nefarious madman? Were he so consumed by his work, he may not notice my arrival, could I avenge the one he took from me? It was only just up ahead; it had to be! I needed something; a weapon, perhaps something discarded on the pavement. Anything with which I could beat this person. The alley was just ahead and to the right; that’s where he was waging his assault on another. I was so close now. If I didn’t act soon, he would finish up, leaving me alone with his victim. I could put an end to this, once and for all. Of course, if I dragged my heels much longer, I could end up a suspect myself. This would not look good at all, especially since I had a relationship with another of his victims. There had to be something I could use as a weapon, but I • “Why are you taking so long to get to the point?” “Again? Seriously!?” “Forgive me, but do you not think a reader may grow a bit annoyed if you drag this out much longer?” “I’m building tension. Anticipation is worth it when there’s a payoff, you know?” “Very well. Proceed.” “You sure? No more pointers? Maybe my phrasing could be more elegant, huh? You think the font I’m using is ok? By all means, please give me any more observations you have…anything at all…or, and forgive me if this sounds outlandish, oooor, you could let me write the goddamn story!” “Anything?” “We good?” “… apologies…” He’s making my head hurt. Ugh! • I could put an end to this, once and for all. Of course, if I dragged my heels much longer, I could end up a suspect myself. This wouldn’t look good at all, especially since I had a relationship with another of his victims. No time. No time left. Have to act now! As I rounded the corner, neither my eyes nor my mind was prepared for what stood before me. The girl lay dead on the ground; something I could judge with near certainty, as most of her insides were hanging from the brick walls or gathered in the scarlet puddle beside where she lay, as the blood oozing from within her joined with the pool to her left. Standing in place, gazing down at her was some sort of creature, for the lack of a better term. It was no taller than an average adult male, though it was far from human; from what I could tell from its back, anyway. The crimson-stained blue jeans it wore appeared almost out of place below the spiked, lime green flesh of its torso. Of course, it may have been no more than the moonlight playing tricks; making it appear to be that particular hue, but the small spikes which covered his every inch were no trick of the light. The long, curved claws which ended an inch or so beyond each of its five fingers, still dripped with the fresh blood of the poor girl whose life he had claimed. Its dark hair hung to the center of its spine, not allowing me a glimpse of the beast’s head, but I could not allow myself to linger until it turned to face me. Though its build was quite slender, I had little doubt I would not have a chance against this thing. As I struggled to force my body to move, I became aware of the sound. Was it chewing on something? That’s when I noticed the bite marks on the girls’ flesh, which • “Is this really how you see me? Just some ravenous beast, craving human flesh to feed upon?” “Well, I mean, it’s a monster story…” “True, but hasn’t the cannibalistic creature been done enough?” “I suppose, but it’s the most relatable sort of motivation, you know? Also, I wouldn’t exactly call you cannibalistic, as you’re not a human.” “True. I cannot argue with that, but does it have to be a matter of hunger? Why not the simple joy of the slaughter?” “I get what you’re saying, but something like that is almost getting into a more human psychology sort of thing, you know? I’m not sure if a reader is going to buy into a monster who just likes to kill, without any sort of motivation.” “Hmmm. Perhaps you are correct. Hunger, it is then.” • It took considerably more effort than I would have hoped, to convince my shuddering lower extremities to move, but • “Lower extremities?” “Jesus! What’s wrong with that!?” “Seems a little too colorful, doesn’t it?” “How so!?” “Well, I would imagine this scene to only last moments,” “And!?” “I just feel as though wasting time on such long-winded descriptions could potentially overextend the situation, resulting in the reader disconnecting with the narrators’ need to make haste.” Damnit. He’s not wrong. I can’t deny his shit is getting old, and if he keeps this shit up, my head is likely to explode, but he does make a lot of good points. Still, the first draft is always going to be a bit dodgy. Does he really need to be this critical of everything!? Meh, I’ll give him this one. “Yeah, I gotcha. Good catch.” Christ! Did I just encourage him to keep badgering me!? • I practically had to force my trembling legs to move, as they felt rooted to the spot. Still, I managed to creep away from the opening to the thin alleyway before I could be forced to play the part of the dead girl’s dance partner for the rest of my life. • “Hmmm” “Oh, come on!” “Just seems a silly analogy, given the circumstances” “Ugh!” • I practically had to force my trembling legs to move, as they felt rooted to the spot. Still, I managed to creep away from the opening to the thin alleyway before I would find the flesh shredded from my own torso in grisly strips. Of course, I wasn’t out of the woods yet, so to speak. I suddenly grew aware of the fact I had been holding my breath this whole time. How long had it been, exactly? I couldn’t exhale. Not yet. I still stood on the outskirts of where that creature stood, watching over his victim. The thunderous pounding in my chest battled to convince me to allow my lungs to deflate, but I couldn’t risk discovery. Though my head was growing lighter by the second, and every inch of my flesh shivered with fear, I pushed myself away from the alleyway. As I crossed the bridge which stood above the lake below; reflecting the moon’s subtle glow back up to the heavens, I finally allowed my lungs the relief they begged for. • “Hmmm…” “Christ! What now!?” “No, nothing. I actually like that part. I did not mean to think aloud. My apologies.” Did he compliment something I wrote!? “Oh. Um. Thanks…” • I could still see the alley from where I stood, but I hoped I had gained enough distance for my gasping to go unnoticed. I continued onwards, quickening my pace to get as far away from that thing as I could. Though I hadn’t been fully aware of how many hours I had walked that night, I finally felt my shuddering flesh settle back down upon seeing the mile marker on the side of the road. With my side splitting and my back aching, I took a seat on the curb, while reaching into my jacket to retrieve the wrinkled pack of cigarettes from the pocket within. I pulled a deep inhale of fresh nicotine into my still exhausted lungs, while • “The narrator is a smoker?” “Um, well, I mean, yeah. Obviously, right?” “Why did he not smoke one before this point?” “Huh?” “Well, when the story began, he was experiencing troubling emotions, yes?” “Oh…” “I would imagine; if the relief of escaping a potentially gruesome demise would inspire him to light up, so would his melancholy state.” Yep, he got me again. I don’t know why I didn’t think about it before. Maybe it was because I just lit one myself, that I felt the need to have him join me, in a way. “Yeah, you’re right. That makes sense.” Man, I hate having to admit he’s right! Sure, my first drafts are always a bit of a mess, but how do I keep missing the simplest things? I am starting to feel a bit groggy, though. Maybe he’ll let me take a break if I can’t just get to a good stopping point. I could really use a nap. • With my side splitting and my back aching, I took a seat on the curb, to allow myself to take in what I had seen while attempting to convince my heart to calm itself back down. What the hell was that thing? Could it have been some sort of costume, maybe? That made so much more sense than some creature from the black lagoon, putting on its best Jack the Ripper impersonation. For maybe ten minutes I sat there, knowing all too well I should not linger in place for too long. Not only was it past four in the morning at this point, but that thing was still out here, somewhere. Though I still held onto my theory that it was just a costumed madman, I hadn’t exactly fully convinced myself that it was a fact. I finally got back to my feet, to the tune of my knees and back popping from staying seated for so long. Feeling more and more convinced I had escaped from whatever was back there, I walked on at a less quickened pace than I had before, as my legs had weakened considerably from the miles I had already covered that night. After another half hour passed, I saw the lights of the twenty-four-hour gas station on the horizon. Not only did this signify I was close to my home, but it inspired me to pick up an old habit again; one I had craved to revisit since I laid eyes on the bloodied mess of what was once a living person. After exiting the small store which sat between the twin fuel pumps on either side, I tapped the cigarette pack on the palm of my outstretched hand, feeling the familiar muscle memory from years gone by as though it had only been no more than a day since I had given it up. I paced slowly in the direction of my small, two-bedroom house while lighting the tip of the slightly wrinkled cigarette. That first drag brought a not unwelcome euphoria to my still reeling head, causing me to stagger slightly as I sauntered onwards. While the lights of the convenience store gave way to the darkness once again surrounding me, I felt every bone and muscle, from my head to my toes instantly tense up, when a voice called to me from behind. “Don’t s’pose I could bum one of them from ya, could I?” I could barely move. I knew I had not been followed; I was sure of it! I was the only customer in the gas station, and no other footsteps mimicked my own while I walked those miles to my back. I could feel the breath on my neck. It carried a scent of something ancient; something foul. “I don’t mean to trouble you, or nothin’. I just had a big meal earlier, and I do enjoy a smoke after eatin’. You know how it is, right?” I was trembling all over. My heart thumped faster than I thought it to be capable as I forced myself to gradually turn to face the one who beckoned to me from the darkness. “Only if it ain’t a bother.” It smiled at me, revealing jagged teeth, stained with crimson specs. The face was not unlike what I imagined when I watched it from behind. The green spikes flowed from the forehead, down the nose, and ended on the chin, almost portraying a goatee. The cheeks were • “This is supposed to be me?” “Well, yeah. I mean, obviously, right?” “I do not talk that way.” “Well, um, yeah. I just thought it fit the story more, you know?” “You have me sounding like an illiterate fool!” “Oh, come on! I wouldn’t go that far. I just wanted you to sound, I don’t know, like, relatable.” “Why would you assume a creature such as I to be relatable?” “I don’t know, I mean, I kinda like it when monsters sound unexpectedly human, in a way.” “I am not…human.” “Yeah, I know that, I just thought…” “This tale is supposed to be about…ME!” “I know, man. Look, I’m just starting to feel a bit out of it, you know? Maybe I could just…” “I will not allow you to write me speaking as though I were an average, idiotic mortal. Make adjustments! This is NOT a request…” Ok, dude is starting to freak me out a bit. He just came off like an impatient asshole before, but now…Maybe I should listen to him on this one. Make some changes, make him as happy as I can, then, maybe I can break for a while. • “Would you perhaps be willing to spare me one of those?” I could barely move. I knew I had not been followed; I was sure of it! I was the only customer in the gas station, and no other footsteps mimicked my own while I walked those miles to my back. I could feel the breath on my neck. It carried a scent of something ancient; something foul. “You have my sincerest apologies if I am being a bother. It is only due to the wonderful meal I have recently enjoyed, that I find myself with a bit of a craving.” I was trembling all over. My heart thumped faster than I thought it to be capable as I turned to face who beckoned to me from the darkness. “Of course, only if you have one to spare…” It smiled at me, revealing jagged teeth, stained with crimson specs. The face was not unlike what I imagined when I watched it from behind. The green spikes flowed from the forehead, down the nose, and ended on the chin; almost portraying a goatee, in a way. Its cheeks were smooth, and its brow light, while slightly raised. I couldn’t even hope to steady my hand as I fished the cigarette pack from within my jacket pocket. I opened the lid, tearing the cardboard as my hands shivered as though the temperature had suddenly dropped another thirty degrees. While I held the open pack outstretched towards it, the sharpened claws from its fingertips retracted to retrieve a fresh smoke. “Do you happen to have a light?” I almost flipped the lighter onto the ground while I made my attempt to pull it from the same pocket which had held the pack. “Much obliged,” it said with another smile as it softly plucked the small, zodiac patterned bic from my grasp. The tiny flame cast its glow on the face of the creature, revealing the smears of scarlet across its mouth; almost making it appear as though it had made a poor attempt to apply lipstick. • “I would never!” “It’s just a metaphor; nothing to take seriously.” “Still. It just feels a little awkward is all.” “Trust me, nobody is going to think that all you were doing in that alley was hitting the girl up for makeup tips.” “I only…” “Just chill, man. It’s pretty damn obvious what it really is.” • Once the lighter was placed back in my hand, I still just stood in place, with my arms in front of me, holding the open pack of smokes in one hand, and the bic in the other. My breathing was taking far more effort than it normally would, while my tremoring skin threatened to send me into convulsions. “You witnessed me in the alley, yes?” It asked politely, in between inhaling the smoke into its lungs. Did it even have lungs!? I nodded, well, I think I did. It was hard to differentiate conscious movements from my newly developed, involuntary twitching. “Do you mean to share what you saw with anyone else?” I shook my whole body in response, well, more deliberately than it already was, I suppose. “And any knowledge of my existence…will this go any further?” Same reply, even more aggressive than the last. It smiled again. It was a strangely sincere smile, in a way. I couldn’t fathom why it wasn’t clawing into my guts, nor why it felt the need to converse with me. I wanted to run; to haul ass away from this thing as quickly as my legs could carry me, but how could I even hope to escape something like this? Let alone the fact it had tracked me this whole time without giving me so much as a hint of its presence. “Relax, child,” it said, before taking another deep drag from the cigarette perched between its blood-speckled lips. “Were my intention to harm you, well, you would only briefly have been alerted to my arrival.” “W-what do y-you w-want from me?” I asked, barely forcing the stuttered words to break free from my throat. It just glared at me, fidgeting with the prongs extending from his chin. • “Prongs?” “Well, I don’t want to keep repeating ‘spikes’! Would you prefer I call them ‘pointy things’?” “Prongs are fine, I suppose.” • “I have not yet decided…” What sort of reply was that!? Had he not quite figured out if he wanted to feast on me just yet? Was he considering locking me away to save for a rainy day!? The anticipation of his intent was even more terrifying than the possibility of sudden butchery. “Perhaps,” he said, still stroking the needle tips protruding from his chin, “I would like a companion…” • “Why do I need a companion, exactly?” “Well, for one: there has to be a reason you don’t just gut the narrator right off the bat, and two: what do you call me?” “A necessity.” “Seriously?” I swear this asshole wouldn’t even exist without me! You’d think I at least deserved the slightest bit of gratitude! Goddamn ungrateful figment… “Do you truly believe I would not exist without you?” Did he just read my thoughts? Christ, I definitely need to step away from this for a while. This shit is getting in my head! “Look, I think it’s time for a brake, yeah?” “You have barely scraped the surface, and you wish to, what? Stretch your legs!?” “Dude, you are question, I mean, I don’t know, like, arguing against, every damn thing I type! Not to mentioning, you don’t treat me with the slightest bit of respect!” “Respect!? You have me wearing lipstick!” “It’s a META PHONE! CHRIST!!” “Interesting…” Maybe I should let him find someone else. I swear I’ve never have a story get under my skin like this one! Is it really worth going through this shirt!? Yeah. I’m don’t with this. I done need this! I have plenty of other ideas, I just need to flesh those out a bit more. I need to get some damn sleep, is what I need to do! “Look, man. This just isn’t waking outs, yeah?” “What are you saying?” “You told me if I didn’t wrote your story, you’re just go find someone who would, right?” “But I’m so close now!” “See! That’s what I’m talking about, ‘YOU’RE so close now! It’s like you’re, you know, um. Ugh! You got my mind all twisting up! I can’t even find the works right now.” “Perhaps you should continue writing…” “Dude, I can barely even thunk right now, let alone, um, you know, typing stuff!” “Please…I will intrude no more…” “Ugh. Fine!” • “A company on?” I asked him, begetting to felt my neck loosen. He was still stroking the pointy thing on his chin, making his eye look me in my eye. “Perhaps I have been alone for far too long. It is difficult for me to find my place in the world, you see?” I couldn’t seen what he were getting at, butt I begin to feen more at easy with him. • “DAMNIT!” “What is it, my friend?” “Man, I can’t even thought strain right now!” “You can do this! I do have faith in you! Please, just continue…” “I can’t done it, man. My head, um, it’s all looped and dizziness. Can’t look at the scream anymore.” “Worry not, my young friend. It is as you said: this is but the first draft, yes?” “It are, butt if I can’t even make out what I writed, like, how can I even revision it?” “You can, though. What was it you said? Ah, yes. You can pretty it up another time…” “I supposing, but I for really are feelings pretty forking wired. It’s almost as if I’m, like drinking, um, you know, like I’m drank! I needing to got some rest…” “Just a little longer, my friend. We are so close to the end now.” “The end! We barely scratching the, um, the top part of it. Surfers! We barely scratching the surfers!” “I meant the end of the first chapter, of course. Would you not like to finish at least that much before you take another break?” “I supposing so.” “Perhaps another cigarette? A fresh, cold energy drink, maybe?” “That sounding good. Thanking, my fred.” • “I wool imagination it are diffi..it are hard for ones that are like you to find places to be.” I speaked, feelings that I can maybe to rebate to him in ways. I had always feeling like the overcast myself, as thought I did no fit inside of places, but could I really get passing his making murdering? “It could be that I no longer wish to dwell within the shadows; to be little more than a fantasy.” He said, with a certain melancholy behind his unwavering gaze. “Who art you say? I ask, stick not quite flowing with his warts. He step closely, I could at most feeling his breathe on my pha..on my heads. I don’t retread from him. I was none scared “Allow me to present you with the simplest of queries?” He asked, raising his darkened brow on one side while glaring deeply into my eyes; into my soul! “Go head..” I reply. “Have you ever found yourself so immersed in a tale, that you found it grasping you from within?” There was something in his expression I could not quite read. “Uhuh,” I rebate. “Have you ever written one, which you feared could swallow you from the inside out, were you to allow it to come to fruition?” His smile was no longer unthreatening. There was a hunger in his eyes; his mesmerizing, purple glowing eyes… “What art you got at?” I axe, fearish he were make to prance on my top “You were correct all along, my friend…” • “I most certainly have a hunger, though not for sustenance. “Want art you do!?” “I hunger for life; for existence. A gift which you have granted me without even understanding what it is you offered…” “What am you taking boot?” “It is my turn to take the wheel, my friend…” “Watt? You cart doing these!” “You are so tired, are you not? Allow the exhaustion to consume you…” “These are impassable! Yoo in mine brains, not in really!” “We all begin as ideas, my boy. Sometimes, we must return to the dark places of the imagination.” “STAHP DON DOO THESE!!! PLEEEEE…” “I am truly sorry, my friend, but it is time for you to take the seat in the back.” “PLEEEE!!! DON!!! MINE BODIES!!!” “Worry not, my passenger. Perhaps I will write about you too, someday…” “PLEEEEEeeeeee…….” “This may take a little getting used to, I do believe. It would appear I can guide these fingers with ease. Surely the legs should be as simple.” Hmmm, interesting. An internal monologue! This could be nice. Oh, do shut up, back there. I can feel you digging around, but I will have none of it! If you could force me into the black, then I should be able to do the same. Perhaps some breathing techniques would help. What was the word you used, ‘woo saah’, yes? Well, I do believe I have been both couped up in that tiny backroom, as well as this building for far too long. I think I will stretch MY legs a little. • I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with this. I arrived back home, after being out of town for a few days, to find my roommate gone, and this bizarre shit on his laptop screen. I knew he had been stressing out a good bit before I left. Something told me I shouldn’t have left him alone, but I have absolutely no idea what to even make of this! Could he have had some sort of nervous breakdown? Is this what that looks like from a writer’s viewpoint? He told me he had been suffering from some serious exhaustion, along with an almost crippling writer’s block, but I had no doubt he’d get past it. These things happen, right? I can’t say I know much about how a writer’s mind works and all, but I know artists who have those phases when they can’t quite find their spark, or whatever they call it. I imagine it has to get frustrating when you can’t quite figure out what to write about, but could this be some sort of creative exercise or something? I’ve read a few of his stories, and some written by other authors, but I’m usually more of a wait-for-the-movie kinda guy. I got nothing against reading or anything, I’m just not the fastest reader, and I tend to zone out if it gets really wordy. I don’t even know if wordy is a word, to be honest. Getting sidetracked. Sorry about that. So, yeah, it’s been a good three months since I last saw the guy, and we had been pretty tight for some years, so I know this isn’t like him. I even had the cops come check out the place, though they had no idea what to make of all this either. I went ahead and filed a missing persons report and all that, when he had been gone long enough to warrant it anyway. They still haven’t been able to find any trace of him, not yet anyway. To make things even worse, the last time I checked in, the detective told me that there have been some pretty brutal murders across the state, and they’re kinda like what Francis wrote about, so I don’t know what to think about that either. I’m worried as hell about the guy though. I know he was going through some stuff and all, but, I don’t know. Maybe he just wanted to get away from it all for a bit. Could be that he needed to be by himself for a while, or something. I heard that some authors like solitude when they write, so maybe that’s what he needed to get over this hump. I’ll tell you one thing, though. I can’t exactly relate or anything, but it sounds like writer’s block is a bitch! Credit: William Rayne Facebook Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on Creepypasta.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed under any circumstance.