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Old 02-01-2018, 02:59 AM   #1
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Default Heart Defect Vs. Pilgrim Knoughts.

Format: Short story.

Length: 1,500 words maximum.

Idea: A call for help.

Due: February 12th.
@heart defect Vs. @Pilgrim Knoughts.
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"Psychological inbreeding -- groups of people who conspire to believe in the same myths. They spew superstitions and conspiracy theories at each other until it all coagulates into a set of specific brand-name bullshit. Big Foot, orbs, the Illuminati, and the grey are examples of this."
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Old 02-01-2018, 10:16 AM   #2
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Checking in, so you know I didn't see this. Let's have some fun with this.
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Old 02-02-2018, 05:33 PM   #3
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sounds good brother man
good luck pill
respect
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Old 02-12-2018, 01:24 PM   #4
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I'll have to post using my phone, so it'll be up in a few hours. Sorry.
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Old 02-12-2018, 01:44 PM   #5
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I'll hate to freepost, but the dude that you're battling hasn't been on since he posted the message
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Old 02-12-2018, 03:31 PM   #6
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I( noticed that, too. but, i'm still giving my story to Disputer via PM. you know, just in case.
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Old 02-12-2018, 04:15 PM   #7
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Not a problem, hopefully he's already given his to Disputer, hate seeing people waste time
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Old 02-13-2018, 02:09 AM   #8
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Abigail was a 22 year old junior in college. She loved three things: family, volleyball, and her boyfriend Nicholas. A budding but naive woman on the brink of finding who she is on the journey to what she'll become. Family was everything to Abigail, they were her rock. When she was down, family was there. When she needed a helping hand, family was there. When she made a mistake, family was there. It had been her rock time and time again. But she was concealing a secret that she couldn't let them know, wouldn't let them know. perhaps it was fear, perhaps it was shame, maybe a mixture of both. Where family couldn't help, she would turn to volleyball. Smashing the ball over the net, watching it sail in the air. That was her escape. When things didn't go her way, volleyball provided a means of satisfying what nothing else could. It's like having a sweet tooth, asking your mom to get you your favorite candy bar, and she comes back with a fourth or fifth option. Sure it tastes good but it's not really the same. For Abigail volleyball was crucial in hr life. When she was 12 she had a horrific knee injury. All those months laying in bed, watching her friends play while she was stuck inside manifested itself. She took the time to appreciate the finer things in life that most people take for granted.

And then there was Nicholas. She had met him at a college party and completely swept her off her feet. Charming, tall, dark, handsome, brooding eyes that pierced her soul. She knew the moment she laid eyes on him that she wanted to get to know him a little bit better, not to just hook up for a one time fuck. It's puppy love. So cute and adorable, you can't turn away even if you known the responsibilities that lie ahead. Nicholas was her cryptonite at this point in her life. They'd spend hours together. Be it at the library, the park, dates. They were inseparable. Nicholas just hit the spot for Abigail and she was happy. But this puppy love seemed to be affecting Abigail's grades. One day after class her teacher told her wait so she could talk to her. Abigail knew what was coming. How could she be so irresponsible?

"Abby, your grades are not passing yet." Her teacher spoke softly hoping to calm her nerves and provide some hope.

"I know, Ms. Pendragon. I will get it turned around." Abigail stated emphatically.

And from that day forward, Abigail buckled down. She cut off her family. She took a break from volleyball. And she even put Nichols to the side. Abigail wasn't juggling her school and social life all that well so she decided it had to be all or nothing. Some people are just like that. Abigail was that person. Abigail laid her path to success, all she had to do was follow it. But it wasn't going to come without a price. Family feels pushed away. Volleyball team mates feel her heart isn't in it anymore. And Nicholas was left trying to understand what was wrong. Nicholas had a hard time believing Abigail just wanted to study and he let his obsession consume him.

Knock, knock, knock.

Abigail was startled as she was reading her book and taking notes. She slid the glasses off her face and into the book below, propping up out of her seat and approaching the door.

"Hello?" Abigail roared.

No answer.

Abigail stopped thinking maybe someone had the wrong place.

Knock, knock, knock.

Abigail this time went to the door and looked through the peep hole. A smile overcame her face as it was Nicholas. Abigail unlocks the door and before she can touch the knob, Nicholas bursts through with all his might and fury. Abigail falls to the ground as Nicholas slams the door shut and locks it. Dazed, confused, and panicked Abigail begins crawling away knowing something bad was about to happen. But she could barely move as Nicholas jumped on top of her and put his hand over her mouth and the other hand over her throat. He tightened his grip over her throat and her eyes began to budge.

"W-why?" Was Abigail could muster under the intense pressure. The more she struggled, the harder he gripped. She began fading in and out of consciousness. That feeling of helplessness. True helplessness when your body literally can't move, your mind can't process the on going scene, your motor functions are completely disabled. This was Abigail. Helpless Abigail struggling to stay awake, struggling to keep her life.

And just like that, in an instance, everything faded to black.

Hours pass.

And more hours pass.

Abigail finally awakes to the sound of a buzzing alarm. Sprawled out on the floor, her clothes torn and tattered. From then on her life would be changed. Her thoughts, her insecurities, her fears. Nothing would ever be the same and for a period o time, nothing would even matter. She was a victim. And the realization of what had happened struck her as she crawled to the phone by the lamp. Sobbing uncontrollably, processing what had happened, but unable to fully digest what had been taken from her. She did all she could to stop herself from crying as she punched in 9-1-1 on the phone, desperate for anyone to hear her, to connect to her. To help her.

Abigail was a 22 year old junior in college. She loved three things: family, volleyball, and her boyfriend Nicholas. A budding but naive woman on the brink of finding who she is on the journey to what she'll become.
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Old 02-13-2018, 09:18 AM   #9
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Pilgrim Knoughts
"The Affirmation"


"9-1-1, what is your emergency?"

"M-m-my son, Clay has a gun to his head and he's- No!"

"Ma'am, Ma'am?"

: phone picks up:

" Ma'am?"

" This is her husband, Jack. My wife’s a nurse, but we need help and fast”

“Okay, Jack. What is your locations?”

“On corner of Pine and Holiday Street.”

“The Holiday Apartments?”

“Yes! Apartment 212, hurry!”

I remember that call, in fact my family will always remember. Because that was

the night I nearly died. Young, depressed and on drugs- a petty thug by my uncles

description. After numerous surgeries I was taken to a mental health facility. A few years

later I was “Re-introduced” to society. I had to live without a door and anything I could

use to hurt myself. What really hurt were the looks I got.

Which is how I inadvertently ended up meeting my girlfriend. But, even that didn’t last, when

she was killed in a car crash. What really had me crash and burn was the death of mother.

I ended up in a jail cell for four days, after destroying half the apartment in a fit of rage,

fueled by grief.

It was those days in Jail that really put things in perspective. My uncle, ironically,

was the intake officer. I did my “time” so to speak, but on my fourth day I ended up in

the infirmary after sampling my cellmate’s hooch. I was still green in the gills when I was

released, so I crashed at an old friend’s crib. His sister doted on me and helped me get

better. I went back to my parent’s place and started reconciling with my dad, sister and

brother. It was that night I had my first experience with the supernatural. We were

watching “The Exorcist” and the room literally became a meat locker. But, it was the

dissonant voice from the answering machine that caused everything to power down. The

next day, at our whit’s end, we made our first trip to church.

We listened to the sermon and left. Grabbing lunch, we then went to the park near

the apartments and walked until sundown. Paranoia and its side effects, became a part of

our daily routines. I had to occupy my mind and my time, so I enrolled in night school

and applied for jobs. The hard part was explaining my scars. Emotions always battling in

my body. Memories and wounds were reopened. I was a basket case according to

Grandma, but Grandpa understood me. What got me through the hard times was a

recording of that 911 call my mom and dad had. I don’t know why or how they came to

have it, but they did.

Four years later, during my first year of college, I was sitting in my intro to psych

class. As I listened to the teacher I recognized the timbre and resonance to her voice. In

that moment I recognized who she was. I think I had let out a little noise or maybe it was

me passing out when I stood to leave. But, when I came too, she was right there and as I

heard a voice say, “He’s okay.” I saw her eyes fill with tears as she said, “I know.”
.....
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"cant tell your top from the bottom like a capital I" -- Invader 5.

"Psychological inbreeding -- groups of people who conspire to believe in the same myths. They spew superstitions and conspiracy theories at each other until it all coagulates into a set of specific brand-name bullshit. Big Foot, orbs, the Illuminati, and the grey are examples of this."
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Old 02-14-2018, 11:13 PM   #10
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This is good to go now.
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"cant tell your top from the bottom like a capital I" -- Invader 5.

"Psychological inbreeding -- groups of people who conspire to believe in the same myths. They spew superstitions and conspiracy theories at each other until it all coagulates into a set of specific brand-name bullshit. Big Foot, orbs, the Illuminati, and the grey are examples of this."
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