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Random snippets of TMITYCH
Random snippets labeled by book, chapter and whatever else I feel like.
The Down Days of March
Why her? The question ran through my mind the past couple of weeks like a broken record with no one to readjust the needle running through the same groove of the piece of vinyl. I lay on her bed, just staring at the white ceiling. I started to feel the life exit my body again. Is this how Ray feels everyday? I asked on occasion.

The last few weeks felt like a blur. I barely remember anything from school, I don’t remember eating, and I keep having nightmares of my life without Rachel . . . which I’m already living. I kept dreaming about that same moment when the strange light picked her up along with her paranoid brother and the delectable treat. Just last night, I even started dreaming about the mysterious caller before the event happened. It felt like I knew him…or her. I’m not sure yet.

Why her? Gah! I need a new question to repeat. Before I could, my stomach rumbled. Was it really that long ago since I last ate? I pulled myself up into an Indian style sitting position, unfurled my legs and tossed them over the side so I could stand up. The floor beneath my feet had grown colder since I first lay on her bet today. Which reminds me, it’s my birthday today.

Yes, the Ides of March. Historically, the day the Romans killed Caesar for being a bad leader. He had it coming, though. He deliberately ignored his fortune teller’s prediction and added no protection so…yeah.

I reached the downstairs area only to find Ieda and Emiloy huddled around a laptop. How long can they search? I asked myself.

“At it again?” I asked.

“Yes, and to no avail. I’m getting more worried every time we try. It’s been two weeks since a signal beeped on the radar.” Emiloy repeated for the eighth time this weekend. I already knew what was coming, so I headed into the kitchen to fix a sandwich and some milk. Maybe some salty chips or a salad would go with that . . . eh, I’ll just have a Twinkie. I heard Ieda start to raise her voice with the impending argument.

“Well, just be glad you planted a GPS chip in that plate because ‘it’s your favorite and you couldn’t bare to loose it’!”

“Well, who said I even wanted to use my most favorite plate? Honestly, how did you even convince me?” I mouthed Ieda’s words just to prove to myself that I knew the dialogue by heart, “Because I convinced you that it was for a special cause! You’re kids don’t turn seventeen everyday, you know.” I messed up in the middle; I started to say good instead of special. For the most part, though, I got it all down. I ignored the rest and started to unwrap the Twinkie.

A few minutes later and I headed back to where they were sitting. Halfway into the drama, I decided to try my plea again.

“Try zooming out.” They ignored me. I then took matters into my own hands. I sat on the couch (they were standing now, a new thing they started on time six) and clicked the zoom out button repeatedly.

“Hey! I got something!” The two turned towards me with faces of shock. Quickly getting comfortable, they sat down and stared at the screen.

“But that’s impossible! Why would they be in Et?” Ieda questioned. The blip lay on the door of Et. Agreeing with her, I sighed. Shortly after, I had and idea to turn the view from a two dimensional point of view to a wider three dimensional one. When I finished my technical adjustments, Emiloy began to sweat. The scale at the bottom of the screen said that every one inch resembled ten light years from this zoomed out view. The blip had to be at least ten inches from the back of the castle to where it lay in space.

“My babies are one thousand miles from there?!” Emiloy screamed. Her hands flew in front of her mouth while she took a gasp. I corrected a thousand light years. She thought that was better. Did I dare tell her that it was far worse? Would you? …wait, who is you? Anyway, I said nothing about how more serious light years were.

To make things ironic, my cell phone rang with the song “A Thousand Miles” playing as the ring tone. I wanted to listen to the song more than figure out the restricted caller’s identity. As it finished, I quickly opened it; the missed call message popped up. Ieda suggested that I wait for voice mail. All fell silent. I slunk back upstairs, leaving the two to wonder out loud what was up.

I plopped back on her bed, stirring up her smell and circulating the accumulating dust. I waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, the phone vibrated, signaling me that it was time to listen to the voice mail. I flipped it open and pressed the ok key.

“Please enter your password.” The prompter said. I typed in the four digit number and placed the phone back to my ear.

“You have one unheard message. First unheard message: ‘Save this message. Then listen to it again.’ End of message. To reply to it, press eight. To delete this messa—” I wasted no time in pressing the nine button. With a voice as mysterious as that, who could refuse to obey? Though I found it hard to believe that I would need a short message like that. Curiosity got the better of me in this case.

I pressed the button that let me listen to the messages again. “You have no new messages. First skipped message: ‘Hello, Phred. Yes, I do know who you are and no, I am not stalking you,’” Good. “‘Rachel and Ray were abducted by aliens a few weeks ago,’” Great, someone who points out the obvious, “‘And rest assured, they are all right! No need to worry anymore for her. Both are in good hands . . . at the moment, however,’” And you expect me to rest assured with a comment like that? “‘You must get to Et as fast as you can. When you do, I’ll tell you what to do. Don’t worry, I’ll know when you get there. Good luck.’ End of message. To rep—” Again, I wasted no time in pressing the save key.

I recollected my shattered life out from the corner of the room and sprinted downstairs. The two were quite surprised to see me with that much life. The down days of March were over, I declared in my mind. Panting, I asked Emiloy, “What’s the fastest way to Et?”

Oooo! So exciting. Where are they? Even I don't know . . . but I miss them.
heart Author XIV





 
 
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