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New Beginnings
Topic Started: Dec 30 2007, 12:19 PM (89 Views)
DNEastwood
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Pidgey
Harsh, ragged breaths echoed throughout the corridor as I clutched at my wounded shoulder, using my good arm to pull myself forward as quickly as possible. A flash of a torch hit the end of the corridor just beyond me, and I risked a glance behind me. Several shadowed figures soldiered along behind me, and while their lumbering figures were hardly graceful, they were slowly making ground up on me. A glint of metal caught my eye as the closest of the forms raised a thickset arm, and just as burst through a door to my left, the ring of a gunshot and a richochet sent the adrenaline flowing through my body.

The crisp, cold air felt like a stinging palm to the side of my face as the I flew outdoors, gripping the rail of the fire escape. Hearing the thunderous footsteps growing ever nearer behind me, I practically hurled myself down the flight of stairs before me, ignoring the numbing pain in my left shoulder. The clatter of my boots against the metal staircase echoed throughout the cramped alleyway. Letting my vision wander upward, I saw the dark figures fly through the door I had passed through only moments ago, literally taking it cleanly off its hinges. For the first time, the appreciation that my life truly was at stake hit me, and that little distraction was all my body needed to give up on itself for one, split second. My feet attempted to regain my footing, but it was to no avail as I crashed down the last couple of stairs, catching the barrier full on in my midriff and sending my injured form tumbling over toward the concrete below.

My already injured arm screamed in protest as it made impact with the solid ground, a howling scream escaping my lips as I felt the bone splinter under my body weight, quickly cut off as my skull bounced sickeningly off the ground, stunning me as the fall took all of the air from my lungs. As I fought for breath, I ran my fingers through the hair on the back of my head, feeling the terrifying warmth of blood against my fingers. Struggling, I forced myself backward, leaning against the wall, thoughts running through my head at a mile a minute. Through blurred vision, I made out the massive forms of my followers stepping down the fire escape. I don't know exactly what I was thinking. In vain, I tried to make myself as small as possible, some mad part of my brain hoping that they might not see me, might pass right by me. Unfortunately, it was not to be.

I gazed upward as at least three of them surrounded me. Feeling the slow pulse of blood from the back of my head, my eyes slid in and out of focus, too frequently for me to be able to make out the faces of my attackers. A sense of impending doom numbed my senses. I was aware of my limp, useless arm, but the horrific pain slowly faded. I was aware only of the blurred arm of one of the shadowed figures before me raising. I could make out one thing through my vision, impaired as it was. That terrible glint that I had seen in the hallway that had sent such a chill throughout my body, but now I stared straight down what I knew to be the barrel of a gun with a kind of numbness. Whether it was the loss of blood, or pure fear, I doubted if had I been completely unharmed and in the same position that I would have done anything differently. As it was, I did not make any attempt to move.

The awful roar of a gun, coupled with the flash from the muzzle of the weapon before me, signalled the end. My death.

---

"Daniel! Dinner!"

Glaring at the keyboard before me, I clenched my fists in annoyance. While it may well just be an internet roleplaying site, I considered it something a little more than that. I'm an aspiring writer, and roleplaying was one of the few hobbies that wasn't forced upon me by my peers or family. It was one of the few things in this world that could actually allow me to use my own imagination, to create a world of fantasy and incredible creatures, or of darkness, violence and corruption. A writer needs inspiration, imagination, and with roleplaying, I had no limitations.

So while my mother, God bless her soul, had spent time and effort on making my dinner, it couldn't have come at a worse time. With those two words, she had taken an artist's masterpiece at work in my mind and covered it in whitewash. A sigh escaped my lips. Ah well, I had plently of time to pick up where I left off. Quickly saving the document on my computer screen (the amount of times power failure or simple carelessness had cost me hours of hard work never ceased to amaze me), I stood up, stretching my underused legs, and made my way downstairs.

I'll take a few seconds to properly introduce myself to you. My name's Dan Reynoulds. Daniel, I suppose, but I prefer Dan. (My mother, of course, insists on calling me Daniel, because as she says, if she wanted to call me Dan she would have put it on my birth certificate.) I'm seventeen years old, and as I already said, I'm an aspiring writer. I have other interests, one of the others being pokémon, primarily. I'm actually going to the Pokémon Lab nearby this evening to see if the professor that will give me my own pokémon. It's why I'm eating so early today (it's only around 4:30pm).

Some people reckon I left it too late in life to start a journey with pokémon, but I beg to differ. I've read autobiographies of successful pokémon trainers, and the emotional bonds they form with their pokémon is truly inspiring, really triggers the imagination. Starting to see the links I'm making here? While I know they're more than tools, I can see the journey I'm preparing to make and the pokémon I'll travel with acting as the groundwork for at least one of the books I intend to get published slightly later in life. That's my reasoning behind it, anyway.

So as I devoured the meal before me, you can understand a growing sense of excitement within me. Polishing off the last scraps of food on my plate, I stood up, eyeing my bag on the chair next to the kitchen door. I glanced at my mother, a sense of awkwardness filling my stomach. I hated intimacy with other people, it made me incredibly uncomfortable, but when you're leaving for an indefinite period of time, what else are you supposed to do. But as I opened my mouth to speak, she surprised me. Standing up, she walked over to me, kissed me on the cheek, and said "Have fun, sweetheart."

Then she walked out, and I heard her footsteps leading upstairs.

Blinking twice, I shrugged, slung my bag over my shoulders, and headed for the door. Don't get me wrong, I love my mother. But what she just did was a sign of how much she loved and understood me, so I didn't want to make it any harder than it needed to be for either of us.

I turned, glancing back at the home I grew up in. It might be a while before I saw it again. Then again, who says change is bad? Smiling, I stepped outside, closing the door behind me.
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Alexandra
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0.3 :gexp. Very nice House post. :D I enjoyed reading it.

You would later find that in your bag was a wallet holding 4,900 zenni and an Escape Rope with three charges on it. Looks like you're clear for the Pokémon Lab now.
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