-
The Happening I Happened Upon
-
“The Happening in Which I Happened Upon”
So, one night, slumber had failed me. Hence, I decided to take a stroll around the bends of my neighborhood for awhile. ‘Twas dark outside; everything looked sort of… black and white. The rain had dropped from the heavens, suddenly. Sorrowfully, I had not an umbrella; so, I walked whilst my outfit became quite sodden. I had walked out a ways; eventually, I happened upon a country road. The roads were quite muddy and icky, I must say myself. So sticky, was the road, that I–to my dismay– lost my shoe to the muck. Luckily, I happened upon a quaint-looking shack.
‘Twas rather small, but it was raining; I cared not. I inelegantly stumbled (with one shoe on) up the steps, onto the porch. I proceeded to the door. My hand, slowly, ever so slowly, reached the knob. Twist. Squeak. Creaky squeaky. Open. Perhaps the owner of this quaint building should consider fixing that.
By then, I had entered the house – more like… infiltrated. “Hello there,” I cried out to the heavens, in hopes for a response; secretly, I longed for some sort of company. You see, I had been through a nasty break-up the week before.
Anyway, I heard a reply, “Hello? Could it be? Meryl? Back from the war?”
“Well,” I started, “I… um, my name’s not Meryl; it’s–“
“Why don’t you have a cup of tea with me? My– it’s been lonely here since the Great War; tell me, what’s it like in those murky trenches, Algernon?” He proceeded to pour a spot of ruby tea– no, wait, it was an Arnold Palmer.
Anyways, I felt rather… slumberous. I remember dozing off, somewhere. Hours passed; I remember waking in a corner of some sort with this… person.
“Do you like this little cubby?” asked the person-like creature.
“Why, it’s rather… snug; I feel quite ensconced.” Said I, “Well, I best be going now,” quoth I, “I shall take my leave ever so soon.”
“Back to the battle ground, I see,” quoth the person.
“Indeed,” said I, “Perhaps we’ll meet once more, someday.” After that awkward moment, I ran away, never to return there again. The next thing I remember, I woke up in a sanitarium.
“We meet again, Meryl St. Algernon?” quoth he.
“I’m afraid so,” acknowledged I. I’m not quite sure how I ended up here; however, I could not avoid this maxim: I’m royally screwed. So, I decided to make some small talk with this chap. “So,” I started, “What is your name? I believe I forgot.”
“Kieran is what is what my fellow congregates call me.”
“Um, congregate is a verb, you know.”
THUD
Before I knew it, I was demitted to the floor. “I SHALL NOT BE QUESTIONED, ALGERNONIUS!!!”
“Uhmm, sorry, Kieran,” resolved I with great penitence and greater bewilderment. “So, err, how did we end up here, anyways?” Inquired I; I was quite curious.
“Well,” began Kieran, “this is how it all began…
“It all started in 1914 when great forces banded together against each other; the object: attrition. My, my, Meryl, you should know the atrocities of war more than I would ever; you have battled forcefully in the harrowing, perilous trenches.”
“Why, doubtlessly, I remember the heinous battles of hell. They haunt me in my sleep; why, the night I paid you a visit, I had such nightmares.” Honestly, I was making this all up to please this slightly off-balanced fellow. I can be quite artful with my words every once in awhile (when I’m not derping out). Anyway, “Now, let’s get to the part in which I had to take my leave of you.”
“In a desperate attempt to keep you in my company (for misery loves company), I had chased you down with a tranquilizer. Then, somehow, these doctors had taken us away,” stated the out-of-whack Kieran. “They’ve been hiding behind the bushes for quite some time. You see, they’ve been out to get me for quite some time; my controversial view on Wumbology has been seen as a threat to society. After the heinous effects of the Great War, I wished to change the world for the better; most dismissed me as insane.
“As if no one understood me or something, I’ve been under a close eye for quite some time. They’ve been waiting for me to slip up. Now, we’re here.”
“But, why am I here too?” I asked.
“Misery loves company,” Kieran said with an evil smile.
The sterile white walls were killing me. This place legit needed some color. “Well, wanna play some cards?”
“Oh dear,” Kieran started, “we’re not allowed to have sharp objects.”
“Cards; how are those sharp?”
“We could paper cut ourselves,” sneered Kieran.
“Nevertheless, we could… sit here.” So, we sat there, for a dismally long time. Boredom consumed me like an obese child eating chocolate. In the faint distance, I could hear a charming tune on the piano, as well as some sort of wailing. I concur that it was “Gloomy Sunday.” It seemed fitting; this place was rather despondent.
“You know what,” said I, “we need to have some sort of jolly get-together.”
“Indeed we do. Except we’re not allowed to do so,” Kieran said in disappointment. In the background, I hear some screaming; it was from the same guy that played the piano. He was dragged away to the lobotomy room.
“We need to escape. NOW,” said I.
-
Title:
The Happening I Happened Upon
-
Artist:
hypochondriac attack
-
Description:
It's a story I wrote out of boredom. It's not yet finished.
-
Date:
11/21/2010
-
Tags:
happening
happened
upon
-
Report Post
I got bored and started wri...
it was a long time ago, som...
HORROR: A serial killer sta...
story about a man and his d...
What better way to spend Ha...