Happy birthday. You're sixteen, or so I'm told.
Keep on keepin' on or something.
I really need to eat something...
12-22-2005, 10:35 PM
YOU BETTER EAT SOMETHING.
And you did this last year.
'Cept....I wasn't banned back then.
YOU'RE 35 MINUTES LATE.
12-22-2005, 10:41 PM
I HAVE FOR YOU A GAY-ASS STORY I'VE STARTED WRITING.
DON'T LAUGH IT'S ALL I'VE GOT TO GIVE YOU VIA INTERNET.
When she finally woke up the dust around her had already settled. She glanced at her wrist to check the time. There was no watch, only a large mark that looked like she had been cut during the fall. She looked upwards. A small pinhole of light that looked more like a single star than the sinkhole that she thought that she had fallen through was all that could be seen above her. It was a vast, empty void of black, with exception of the pinhole of light from where she had fallen from. “No one could have survived a fall like that,” she thought to herself.
With very little struggle she stood up and looked around her for a way out of this place. There was an arch way to her right with a light of fire glowing from inside it. It was the only way out that she could see. She walked over to it and went inside. It was a small room with reddish walls. A small fire was burning and there was a table and a small chair. Besides those few artifacts, the room was empty.
She stood in the light of the fire and tried to think about what to do next. A light, brighter than that of the fire, caught her attention. It was coming from a slight crack in the wall. As she walked over to the light she noticed that it was more than a deep crack in the wall, it was a door that opened up to a window. As she drew back the door the bright light of the sun flooded into the room. The glass that separated her from the other side was thick and it almost magnified the image. Below the room, outside was a small village filled with small houses and shops with thatched roofs and she could see people going to and fro amongst the buildings. She looked for a latch to open the window, but it was as though the window was always there.
She stood, in wonder, looking at the small village until she saw her own reflection in the mirror. Three dark, black marks streaked across her face. The clothes she was wearing when she had fallen, jeans and a sweatshirt were replaced with light brown robes. Across her wrists where her watch had been was another streak of black. She looked back in the thick glass of the window and noticed dark circles around her eyes. Her glasses were not on, but she could see fine. Then she noticed her eyes were nothing more than a glossy black. There were no whites of her eyes, just black. The light from the outside glinted off them and reflected off of the window.
She began to panic. She was lost in a strange place. Her personal belongings were stolen. She was kidnapped. Panicked, she ran out into the area where she had fallen into and began to scream for help. She screamed and screamed until her voice could no longer scream. She laid down on the floor and cried for a long time. The pinhole of light above her, where she had fallen from, was still there.
She noticed when she woke up, that the firelight that had penetrated the archway was no longer there. In fact, there was no archway to be seen. The room she was in had grown brighter from before. The walls had begun to glow a very dim red. She looked around the room again, looking for any change in the structure of the wall. Where the archway used to be was now nothing more than smooth wall. The wall had no distinguishing features so she could hardly tell if that was even the same spot where the archway appeared.
Hours passed and she grew worried. Her voice was still silent from the screaming she had done. The floor, she noticed, was in the design of a spiral starting from the center of the room. Out of sheer boredom she followed the path to the center, and back out to the perimeter. The more she moved around the more she felt as though things were different in the pit. Things felt slowed down. She couldn’t tell if it was boredom, though, for she had no watch to tell time with.
After walking from the center of the room to the perimeter, following the spiral pattern, she sat down in the center of the pattern. “Bright and early for their daily races…going nowhere…going nowhere…” she mouthed the words to the song as she sat alone. Eventually she fell asleep again.
The gentle whir of a motor woke her up. The ground around her was lifting up, above her. The spiral pattern formed a pathway to the top. Quickly she got up and ran to the edge of the room. She watched as the floor dropped down and eventually stopped. Once again she followed the spiral into the center. Where she had been sleeping a mere five minutes ago was a hole. A spiral stair case lead downwards into the curiously familiar glow of fire.
The tile that had made up the floor of the pit she had been in gave way to a wrought iron set of stairs. The stairs continued down for quite a while, surrounded by large rough stones. The only light that there was to go by was a scattered few lit torches. After what seemed like an hour of descending the stairs the stones in the wall came to an abrupt stop.
All around were bookcases, rows and rows of them. The staircase continued, downwards, for another one-hundred, dizzying feet. Once she had reached the bottom, she stood on the solid ground and looked upwards at the tops of the bookcases. Thirty-feet up, she thought, they must be thirty-feet high. She followed a corridor of books for what seemed like a mile. The corridor had stopped and around her were the beginnings of several other corridors. At the top of each one a small plaque that read: Mythology. Below the plaque was a mask with horns, each one was identical. She walked over to one of the masks to get a closer look. The mask began to talk, and as it did layers of dust fell from its smooth, dark skin. “Can I be of assistance to you?”
“What—who are you?” she asked. All fifteen of them said, simultaneously, “We are what keep order. We are what they look for when they are searching. We are what you need. You are searching. Your destiny awaits you in these many books.” Slowly she backed away from the masks. “Perhaps,” said the first mask she spoke to, “we can help you? Is there something you are specifically looking for?” “Well, maybe, who runs this place? Am I being held prisoner? What is this place? Where am I?” There was panic starting to show in her voice.
“Don’t panic,” said one of the masks behind her.
“Yes, he will be right down,” said one off to the side of her.
“You are safe,” said another of the masks.
“For now,” another finished.
12-22-2005, 10:54 PM
Happy Birthday, even though it isn't your birthday in my time zone.
12-22-2005, 11:45 PM
HAPPY B-DAY. SLEEP DEPRIVED POSTING IS LIEK DRUNK POSTING.
AM I RITE?
12-24-2005, 07:35 PM
Happy belated birthday again!
iodine, I dont even know what you're saying anymore!
corn gets a thread and I don't pff
go pick the pubic hairs out of your teeth.
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