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Mara

The Prose Thread

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Mara

Like the poetry thread, but for prose. You know, short stories and such.

Please keep them (relatively) short... Realize that this is still only a message board.

However, I do feel message board formats are great for story feedback because different people can expound on each other, rather than getting one person's opinion at a time. This way you can get an idea how different people react to your story.

[if you have something longer than a short story (say over 30-40 pages in Word) maybe you could post a link to it hosted somewhere.. or e-mail copies to people. You can still post in this thread to get comments though, if you'd like them].

So if you have a short story that you want to share, or get comments/opinions/critiques on, go ahead and post 'em here!

If you're commenting, please refer to the story you're commenting on, in case there are some posted in a row.

(Of course, all fanfic stories still go in the appropriate forum).

Any other questions, feel free to contact me.

Edited by Mara

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GI_Admiral

I'll start:

Shouldnt this be under the poetry thread? I would believe that prose is defined to be a type of poetry that lacks a usual verse, and does not require rhyme, nor that alliteration right there. Hence, I would believe that this COULD go into the poetry thread, yet it is by itself. Would this be because prose is significantly more popular, or unpopular than poetry itself. I will tell you one thing, it is much easier to right, though it usually is harder.

R/R?

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Tsl

Prose is typically considered to be non-poetic writing.

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GI_Admiral

Basically lol

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Mara

Didn't you just contradict yourself? :p

Definition of prose: 1 a : the ordinary language people use in speaking or writing b : a literary medium distinguished from poetry especially by its greater irregularity and variety of rhythm and its closer correspondence to the patterns of everyday speech

But anyway.. I shall go ahead and post one of my stories... :p

Okay, I wrote this based on an RP I'm involved in at another board... and it's already been gone over for my fiction class, I know about the flaws... but I'd like some more input.... as much as I can get... It helps to know if some problems are isolated opinions or general opinion by all.

..........................

Delia?s Choice

?So daughter, what did you think of Sir Frederick?? asked the king.

?Father, you know how I feel? It?s too soon. My Robert has only just passed away.? The voice was a young woman?s, the princess.

The king sighed, shaking his head. ?Delia, almost a year has passed. You have done more than your share of mourning. It is time to move on. You?re seventeen now. That?s years past the marrying age.?

Delia remained silent awhile, contemplating. She knew that her beloved Robert had been gone already a year next month. She also knew that it wasn?t possible for her to love anyone else as much as she had loved her knight. Delia missed him dearly. Unconsciously she sighed and her father?s voice brought her back to the present.

?Delia??

?Oh! Oh, yes, Father. I?ll consider all the suitors. Can you only let me have a little more time??

The king appeared to consider this proposition. He nodded. ?That is fine my dear. I don?t want you rushing into anything. I do want to hold the wedding ceremony on the closing day of our Festival next month, don?t forget. Please decide before that begins, will you my dear??

Delia smiled back as sincerely as she could manage. ?Yes, Father.?

?Good.? He came forward and brought her forehead close for him to kiss. ?Now I must be off to see about some business.? Smiling one more time, he left the room.

Delia sighed inwardly. How was she ever going to pick someone to marry in the next two weeks? Finally alone, she also left the room and headed out into the hall, walking among all the lavish rugs, paintings and statuettes that she never noticed because she grew up with them. Ornate candleholders lined the gray stone walls.

On her way up a spiraling staircase, she brushed back a stray dark hair and tucked it back under her small silver tiara, designating her as the princess of the Cloud Kingdom. She almost had forgotten it was there. The stupid little thing almost made her laugh. Naming their kingdom after the light and fluffy white puffs that floated through the blue sky merely because their castle sat upon a largish hill overlooking a large field and valley and the river towards the east. As if we were like angels she thought. Far from it. She snorted quietly. Even though at the current moment they were living through a very brittle truce with the Crylians that lived down river, at any moment they could expect an attack. And the worst part about it was they never had any reason. They never did. She didn?t think they even remembered why they were fighting her family in the first place. The feuding had gone on for generations. Eventually her thoughts turned again to Robert. Sadly he had died in battle against her kingdom?s rivals, the Crylians. Such a brave knight he was, she thought. She grieved him everyday. Though she no longer wore the proper mourning clothes, she still wore the emotions inside of her.

The staircase ended and she walked down a similar corridor as below, but filled with portraits of her ancestors, the past kings and queens. People she had never known. At the far end she reached a large wooden door, opened it and shut it behind her. Finding her small portrait of Robert, she ran a figure over it before readying for bed.

The next morning after breakfast, Delia headed straight for her favorite spot in the garden. She pondered all the recent events. The upcoming Festival, her marriage. Delia didn?t know if she could get everything to work out in her favor in time for her scheduled wedding. She had considered packing up and running away to the forest where she wouldn?t have to deal with her father?s politics any longer. Picking up a yellow rose, she began to idly peal off the petals, but then she stopped, hearing something like clanging metal. She walked to the edge of the garden and peered out over the clearing in front of the knights? barracks. Delia turned back; it was only the knights of Cloud practicing to defend their home honor at the coming Festival. They had been joined by a few of the new arrivals from the surrounding kingdoms, including the Crylians. The image still made her queasy. One of the new knights had caught her eye. She hadn?t seen him before at previous Festivals.

Over in the practice field, he parried easily against another visiting knight. The tall young man had blonde hair, and his armor reflected the sun as he moved around, deflecting blows from his opponent. Then without realizing it, Delia had moved out of her protective garden, and applauded as he deftly unarmed his opponent. He turned, his hair blowing in the breeze.

?Good job, Sir Knight.?

He bowed deeply. ?Thank you, m?lady.? He held out his hand. ?Jotham. I hope you?re one of the lovely maidens here to help out us knights.? He said with a grin.

Delia smiled. ?I am sorry, but I am not.? She shook his hand. ?I am merely Princess Delia.?

The young knight fell to his knees and averted his eyes. ?I am sorry, your highness??

?Please, get up. I hate being treated like royalty. I am human, as you are.?

Jotham jumped to his feet, once again grinning. ?Well, then, Princess, what brings you out here? Admiring the fighting??

?No. I was only thinking in my garden.? They had been walking along the side of the field while they conversed.

?Would it be too bold of me to ask you for the ball later this week??

Delia stopped walking. ?Yes, it would. But not because of you, I find your company quite charming.? She hurriedly added. ?I have certain appearances to make. Duties, you know.?

He appeared sad. ?Surely you can spare one dance for me??

?I think I can do that.? Delia smiled once again.

The knight bowed to her dramatically. ?See you then, m?lady.? And with that, he was off to train with the knights on the practice field.

On the whole way to her room to ready for the ball for the starting of the Festival, Delia was smiling and humming to herself. She was beginning to think that everything of the past weeks would all be resolved happily during the festivities. If only she could get to know this knight a bit better. For Delia, things were beginning to look up.

However the next day, in the evening, she was called in to see her father and the cards completely changed against her. Delia felt it was quite odd, going into his presence, so late in the day. What can this be about? She wondered. I hope he hasn?t changed his mind about my wedding already. Going into his throne room, she was surprised to see her mother, the queen also seated there along with three strangers. They were an older couple joined by a younger man. Not another suitor?

Walking to the middle of the room, stopping in front of her father and mother, she stooped, curtsying. Delia stood still waiting to be addressed as tradition held.

?Thank you for coming on such short notice, dear. I?d like to introduce you to my guests.? Started the king, gesturing to the three. ?I present King George of Crylia, along with his queen and his son, the Prince Phillip.?

Delia gasped. How could this be? Their enemies, here in their very own castle? She was dumbfounded and couldn?t speak.

The king moved on. ?Since the Festival draws near, and you have yet to choose a suitor, you will be wed to Prince Phillip on the last day, concluding the festivities. We hope that this union will finally bring peace to our lands.?

?Don?t worry, Delia,? spoke up her mother. ?Arranged marriages go on all the time. You had just been spoiled, falling in love with your betrothed. Your father and I are very happy.? Delia felt sick to her stomach. She didn?t believe this was happening. Her feet started backwards, her body leading her away from the emotional trauma.

?Uh, excuse me...? Delia turned and fled from the throne room to her room slamming the large door behind her. Sobbing, she buried her face into her pillows. It felt as if her life was ending. She didn?t want to marry that horrid Prince Phillip. She just couldn?t. How ever was Jotham going to fit into everything? There was no way she could convince her father now, especially since he had it all settled already. Eventually she cried herself to sleep.

The next few days, Delia moved through her daily routine as if numb. She didn?t speak and her maids had to help her get ready every morning. They even had to pry her out of her bed because she wouldn?t get out; she didn?t want to face a new day because it meant the dreadful day was getting closer.

The day of the grand ball and the opening celebration for the Festival while Delia was sitting as usual in her garden, alone with her thoughts, the knight Jotham stopped to see her. Surprised to see him there in her private abode, she quickly wiped a tear from her cheek and moved over on the bench so he could sit.

?M?lady Delia? What is wrong??

She swallowed. ?I don?t think I can dance with you tonight.?

Jotham stayed quiet, figuring she would explain.

?Father?s making me marry Prince Phillip of Crylia. Of our enemies! It?s so horrible. They want this marriage to unite our two families and end the feud forever. But at what price? Me?? Delia shook her head, she couldn?t go on, her emotions were getting the most of her.

?That?s wrong? He cannot do that, can he??

She nodded. ?Yes, he can. Arranged marriages happen all the time.?

?Then what is the problem??

Delia burst into a rapid story about her Robert and their betrothal, how he died and how her father wanted her married off and originally was letting her choose whom to marry. Eventually she added with the most recent event of him changing his mind because she hadn?t found anyone yet and putting Phillip into the picture.

?I see? I would hate it if my parents had done the same.?

Delia sighed and leaned against him. ?I don?t know what to do any more. I had thought about running away.?

Jotham stroked her hair, trying to soothe her. ?That wouldn?t solve anything, Delia.?

?I know, but it seemed a good idea at the time.? She glanced up at him. ?What would you do??

He paused, as they looked into each others? eyes for a few moments. ?I ? I would...? he stopped mid sentence, leaning forward and kissing her. Either because of her own feelings or because of the surprise, she kissed him back. After they pulled away from the embrace, Jotham moved back, unsure of what had just happened. He wanted to run away but realized his legs were frozen.

?I am sorry, M?lady, er, Delia? ?

?No. It was nice.? She smiled politely. ?It has been a year since I have felt like this.?

It was Jotham?s turn to be nervous. ?What are you saying??

Delia went on to explain what she had been thinking earlier, about how futile it would be to convince her father to change her mind about marrying Prince Phillip. But she wanted to marry for love, not politics, no matter how important to her family it would be. She added how she had just thought about going ahead and bringing the subject up to her father that night at the ball.

?I don?t think that would be a wise idea.?

?You do have feelings for me? I know how I feel and this is what I want.?

?I want nothing else than to be able to get to know you more, but I also do not want to be a cause of this war.? He sighed resignedly. ?However, if this is so important to you, I will back you up.?

Having said that, they parted ways; Delia off to her room to ready for the ball and Jotham to the knights? barracks to also prepare since all the knights were also invited to the ball.

That night, the grand ball started up with much feasting and fanfare. The king announced Delia?s marriage to Prince Phillip. The crowd cheered. They knew what it would mean to end all the fighting. Afterwards, Phillip and Delia left for the dance floor for the opening dance. All the while, Jotham looked on from the edges of the room and watched the encounter. He could definitely tell that Delia was uncomfortable with the prince. Right then and there he decided that they needed to get out there. Her father would never consent; he saw how happy he and the others were about the prospect of peace. He needed to risk the peace of the rivaling castles over the risk of Delia?s happiness. Quietly, he cut in to their dance and slowly moved Delia towards the side of the ballroom. He explained quickly to her about his decision. He could tell she was happy.

They waited for a moment when the king was busy talking to the Crylians before they made their move stealthily out of the room, out of the castle and into the stables. He lifted Delia up on his horse, mounted up beside her and kicked his mount into a hard gallop. They made it easily past the guards, as there were limited numbers because most of them were guarding the ballroom. Riding freely out in the open, past the castle walls, the couple looked at each other and smiled. They were finally free.

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GI_Admiral

Pffft, fine short story thread :p

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Mara

:lol:

Delia Smith. :rofl:

Please don't post unless you have something constructive to say.

Pffft, fine short story thread :p

It can be any prose, but I figured people wouldn't be posting anything longer than shory stories.... or anything nonfiction.. :p

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Princess

:lol:

Delia Smith. :rofl:

Please don't post unless you have something constructive to say.

Be nice to the new member please

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GI_Admiral

:lol:

Delia Smith. :rofl:

Please don't post unless you have something constructive to say.

Be nice to the new member please

:rofl: I just won't go there

Actually...

I lied :p

Insider comes on makes fun of something "ban for being a douchebag" Neil comes on, laughs at maras post for no appraent reason, mara says be nice "Be nice to him, he's a new member....lets love him..." :p

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Radioactive Isotope

at least Mara said please. that usually doesn't happen around here. :p

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Princess

Actually GI, I believe that there is a difference. But this isn't the place to discuss it

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GI_Admiral

Of course it is Prin! It's prose! As long as you aren't rhyming, this is the place for you!

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Neil1

:lol:

Delia Smith. :rofl:

Please don't post unless you have something constructive to say.

Delia Smith is an old lady who does cooking shows. The name reminds me of Old soup... and stuff!

Insider comes on makes fun of something "ban for being a douchebag" Neil comes on, laughs at maras post for no appraent reason, mara says be nice "Be nice to him, he's a new member....lets love him..."

pls be nice to me :(

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Mara

I was merely pointing out the purpose of this thread (of which, I asked beeurd if I could start).

..........

Still looking for more opinions, improvments.. for my previous story.

Meanwhile, here's another one:

...........................

This one's a bit better but still has a couple flaws.. I'm wondering what you think of it... and how I can improve it... It's a bit longer...

Shattered

What is that annoying sound over there? He focused on the dripping sound, turning his head as far to the left as he could. Grimacing, he shifted a bit in the bed. Elliot hated having his mobility taken away. Moving was his life. He depended on his body for everything. Suddenly, the nose came into focus. He sighed. My IV bag must be empty?

He stared back up at the ceiling, to count the tiles, once again. One, two, three, four, five, ? A loud noise distracted him. Damn it? He groaned and rolled his eyes to the left. It was only the nurse, come to change his IV. Ha? I knew it was getting empty. He smirked to himself, then stopped. Moving his face still hurt.

The nurse hummed to herself an old jazz song while hooking up a new bag of fluid to Elliot?s IV. Without giving a second glance, she left the room again.

He turned back to the ceiling tiles, but he couldn?t concentrate on counting them. The off white foam with black splotches blurred in his eyes and all he could see was gray asphalt. Asphalt and concrete. The place he would most rather be; the place that had put him in his current residence.

He remembered the accident vividly. He wanted to smack himself for his stupidity. Why had he listened to his manager, Kevin? Charity, it was for the kids, he had said. The asphalt ceiling tiles transformed into his spacious living room. He had the weekend off and was sitting watching something on his 72? plasma television. The phone had rung then.

?Hello?? He answered in his clean, New England voice. ?Oh, hey, Kev. Well?? Elliot glanced around. ?Yeah, sure, come on over.? He paused, listening to his friend. ?What?s up? Just tell me, man. Did we lose a sponsor? Okay. Fine. It can wait. I?ll be here. See you in a few, Kevin.? Elliot hung up the phone. He was glad that his friend Kevin had agreed to be his manager once his career had caught on. Kevin was someone he could always trust.

Half an hour later, Elliot was sitting with Kevin. They both had a beer in their hands, discussing Kevin?s latest PR idea.

?I told you, Kev. I don?t do that any more. I?m strictly stock car. High class.?

?But this would be for charity, man.? Kevin?s thick North Carolina accent came through with a little persuasion attached to it. ?All the proceeds go to the local children?s hospital.?

?I?m not as young as I used to be. I?m not reckless enough for midgets. Those things are dangerous. I don?t know how I ever survived.? Elliot took a sip from his beer.

Kevin finished his. ?Will you think about it? It?s this weekend. You?re off, you have nothing better to do. I know how bored you get.? He stood and added, ?Rick is doing it.?

Elliot turned up his lip in disgust. Rick Fields was his enemy on the track. He and Rick were always getting into fights, so much so that the fans expected it. They almost looked forward to when one of the two of them would go too far during a race. Elliot hated it; he wished the idiot would just crash or quit. The guy was a terror. He considered Kevin?s request one more time. It is only a few laps. Dirt track. And at least I?ve done that before. Rick?s never raced midgets. Okay, sure. I?ll raise some money for the kids.

?Sure, Kev. I?ll do it.?

?Great! That?s great, man.? Kevin smiled broadly. ?I?ll go let the team know. ?This?ll do wonders for your reputation.? He pointed at Elliot and winked, then let himself out.

Back in his hospital room, Elliot sighed. He couldn?t believe he added to such a thing. [What was I thinking? Maybe I wanted to get back to my roots. Or something. The reason didn?t matter to him any more. All that mattered was that he was now lying on his back in a sterile hospital room in Charlotte, his plastered right leg anchored to the ceiling in a sling, a brace around his broken neck. He moved his hand, trying to itch under the cast. Bruises colored the rest of his visible skin.

?Why didn?t I listen to Shelley?? He said aloud. ?She told me not to do it? I persuaded myself that the RP would do me good.? Elliot remembered the scene well. It was clear as a bell in his mind. She had gotten home from shopping and he had run out to meet her Lexus SUV in the long driveway to tell her the news.

?Hey, hon! How was shopping with the girls??

?Good.? They kissed lightly. Then Shelley pulled her bags out of the back of the vehicle. ?I got a surprise for you.? She grinned.

?I can?t wait to see it? And guess what? I have a surprise for you too!?

She was skeptical and cocked an eyebrow. ?I told you, no more dogs. Three is plenty for us.?

?No, no, not another dog. Kevin was telling me about this charity race this weekend. He thinks it?ll be good for my image and all that.?

Shelley waited silently for Elliot to finish.

?I thought about it and agreed. All I have to do is a few laps around this local dirt track, raise some spirits, sign some autographs. You know.?

?This isn?t that midget race Joy told me about that Rick Fields is entering, is it??

?Well?? Elliot looked down, avoiding his wife?s eyes

.

?Elliot!? Shelley?s demeanor had flipped a 180. ?You can?t do it. Call Kevin right now and quit.?

?Shell? You know those things are safer now. With all the technological advances. They?re almost as safe as the stock cars are. Really.?

?No, Elliot. Please. I don?t want you to.? She was clearly fighting against tears; she was biting her lip and her face was all scrunched up. ?Remember a few years back, in ?99??

Elliot let out an exasperated sigh. ?Everything turned out okay then. Ribs heal. And you weren?t even dating me then,? he added accusingly.

?What does that have to do with anything?? Shelley?s voice came surprisingly loud.

He cleared his throat. ?Okay, listen. It?s only a couple laps. Like, slow celebrity laps. For the fans. All the money from the tickets goes to the children?s hospital. That?s all. You won?t deny the children, will you??

?Don?t patronize me, Elliot Stevens.? Shelley headed to the house. She sighed resignedly. ?All right, if it?s only a few slow laps. Go ahead.?

?Great, hon. I promise you, everything will be okay. You can trust me. I?m Trick Stevens, I always have a trick up my sleeve.? He winked at her, holding open the door. Shelley couldn?t help but smile.

Elliot remembered the scene with regret. She was right? all along, she was right? I?ll have to make it up to her. Once I?m out of this damn hospital, we?ll go on vacation. Hawaii or Cuba or somewhere. I can?t race this season any more anyway. Yeah, that?s what I?ll do? take Shelley on an amazing vacation. It?ll be a second honeymoon?

Thick, drawling accents yelling something incoherent broke into his thoughts. He recognized one of them. It was Kevin. He was trying to persuade the nurse to let them in. She must have because the trio of men entered the room just then and crowded around Elliot?s bed.

?Man, I?m so sorry?? started Kevin.

?Kev, don?t worry about it. These things happen.? Elliot tried to brush the whole situation off.

Kevin changed the subject. He knew Elliot didn?t want to dwell on it any more than he did. ?Has Shelley been here yet??

Elliot shook his head. ?No.? He grinned wryly. ?Helicopters can fly faster than cars can drive.?

The group of guys laughed awkwardly at Elliot?s attempt to lighten the situation. One of them cleared his throat. It was Billy.

?So, uh? Elliot what happened??

Elliot didn?t speak for a long time. What did happen? Then it all came back to him. The charity race. He had driven around the track a couple times slowly, waving to the crowd. He had been about to climb out and go sign autographs for his fans. Then Rick Fields had sauntered up to him.

?Howdy, Trick. Nice ride ya got there.?

Elliot stifled a glare and a sneer and merely stated, ?Yup. The company supplied it for me. Sponsor helped.? Elliot pointed to the distinctive blue and red paint scheme.

?I see that.? He paused a moment. ?Say, what would you say to a little competition? All friendly like. For the fans, of course.? He added.

?No thanks, Rick. I have places to be.? Elliot made to move past the other race star, but Rick grabbed a hold of his arm.

?Hey, these guys paid to see something spectacular. And what would be more spectacular than Rick Fields and Elliot ?Trick? Stevens in a midget race together??

?Rick, they already have you. Isn?t that enough?? Elliot was getting annoyed; he yanked his arm out of Rick?s grasp. ?I have to go.? The other man stood in his way.

?It?s not my decision, Trick. Your PR guy already set you up for it.?

?What?! What the hell are you talking about? Kevin said it was only a few solo laps. I never agreed to a race. Shelley would kill me??

He shrugged. ?Sorry.? His voice hardened. ?Get into your midget. Let?s race.? With that, Rick headed off to his own orange colored midget, snapped on his helmet and strapped in. Elliot shrugged and went back to his. I?ll just hang back, let him win? that way everyone?s happy? Yeah?

And Elliot did just that. Once the race got underway, he let the other local drivers provide most of the entertainment and hung back in eighth place, enjoying being back in control and remembering his past. Rick was up ahead, challenging for the lead. Elliot just shook his head and followed around the track far a couple more laps.

Then he realized that there were fewer cars ahead of him than there were a minutes before. I must have passed them. Why didn?t I notice? What?s going on here? Look, there?s Rick up ahead. Am I in second now? He swallowed. He knew he was falling into the typical Rick trap: He liked to lure drivers into a duel at breakneck speed down the speedway. Elliot knew that this small dirt track wouldn?t be any different. And I feel right into it. I?m an idiot? I?m a fricking idiot. All this time, his vehicle had been getting closer and closer to Rick?s orange one. Rick must be slowing, letting me catch up. Elliot let off the gas a little so he could figure out what to do.

But at that moment Elliot?s competitive drive kicked in. He couldn?t let Rick beat him. He couldn?t. Soon, it completely took over his mind and Elliot could no longer control it. He began pure adrenaline. He caught up to Rick and raced him side-by-side for a couple laps. Elliot could see Rick begin to get nervous; the other man was getting jerky in his hand movements, his head was moving all over the place. Elliot sneered and pumped the gas, pulling out ahead of Rick. Then it happened. Rick pulled his ride hard to the right, jamming into Elliot?s midget. The little lightweight car spun into the air, almost in slow motion, before finally crashing into the outside guard rail with a ?snap!? It bounced a few more times and then landed on its roof. Bits of plastic and metal had bent in multiple ways, obstructing the driver, encasing him in a live coffin.

Elliot couldn?t move. Everything on his body hurt; each little movement sent spasms of sharp pain through his body. Actually, just his upper body. He realized he couldn?t feel his legs. Ah, hell ? Smart enough to realize he was in danger, he laid still, waiting for the emergency personnel.

?Elliot! Elliot!? Someone was shaking him. He tried to reach for the hand, but then awoke from his reverie. The hospital came back to him.

?Oh, thank God, Trick! We thought you?d died or something?? relayed Billy.

Elliot rolled his eyes. He was glad he could at least do that. ?No, I?m fine??

?He wouldn?t have died. He?s perfectly stable now.? It was a new voice. He recognized the doctor. He flipped open a board and made some notations. ?Are you ready for the news, Mr. Stevens?? The doctor looked down kindly at Elliot through his glasses.

?Yeah. Sure, doc. Lay it on me. Can I drive again??

He took off his glasses and sat down next to the bed. ?No, I?m afraid that?s not possible. Your right femur has completely shattered. And right now, there is some fluid putting pressure on your spinal column. We?ll need to operate as soon as possible.?

?Are you saying I?m paralyzed, doc??

?No. I?m saying we?re going to try our best to make sure that doesn?t happen.?

Elliot was angry. ?They why can?t I drive again? My leg will heal??

?Yes, it will heal, but it will never have complete motor movement. You?ll probably need a cane. I?m sorry.? His friends and the doctor left then, to let Elliot take in the new information.

Elliot was stunned. He looked in horror at the doctor. I can?t race again? Then? then what will I do? I don?t know anything else. It?s my life! It?s all my fault? all my damn fault? His eyes darkened. No, it was Rick? ran me over? If it weren?t for Kevin, this would have never happened! As soon as I?m outta here, I?ll going to fire his ass. Satisfied with himself, he smiled for the first time that day.

Someone rapped lightly on the door. What now? Do I have cancer too?

?What?? he answered gruffly.

?Elliot, it?s me.? The soft voice of his beautiful wife settled around him. Oh no? what now? What do I say? She?s going to be so angry with me? She didn?t want me to do it? But she?ll know it wasn?t my fault. I?ll explain it to her? She?ll understand. She loves me? Then I?ll heal up and we?ll go on that nice vacation. I can sit on the beach with my fricking cane while she sunbathes.

?Elliot? Can I come in??

He snapped out of his thoughts. ?Oh, yeah, sure, hon. Come on in.?

Coming through the door, Shelley gasped, putting her hand to her mouth. ?Oh, my God, Elliot? Your leg??

He smiled bravely at her, as she came up alongside the bed. ?It?s not so bad. They got me so hopped up on morphine and stuff? I don?t feel a thing.?

?Oh, Elliot?? She sniffed.

?No, honey, Shell? don?t cry? it?s not so bad?. Really? The doctor said I?ll be fine. They just have to do a little surgery on my neck, then I?ll be okay. I?ll get to hobble around on a cane, but hey--? He stopped, she was crying. He reached out a hand towards her, but it hurt too much to move it more than a few inches. How long would it be before he?d be able to run his fingers through her soft blonde hair?

?Your neck? Are you??? She couldn?t finish and began sobbing again.

?No, no, of course not. It?s just something minor. Don?t worry??

?I? I can?t keep doing this any more, Elliot?.?

?Doing what? What do you mean??

She pointed to his leg, his neck, then looked into his eyes. ?Dealing with ? this, Elliot. You?re always so close to injury, even death. I don?t think I can take this pressure any longer.? Shelley wiped the tears from her eyes, sniffling.

?Hon, what are you saying??

Shelley stood and leaned over the bed. Moving a strand of dirty brown hair out of the way, she gently kissed his forehead. ?I? I have to go. I?m sorry,? she whispered. She took one last look and walked out of the room.

The door had barely closed when the surgical team wheeled in the gurney to bring Elliot up to the OR.

?Shelley! Shelley, come back! No! No, please come back!? Elliot screamed after her, becoming hysterical. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He saw her walking down the hall, as he wheeled down towards the elevator.

?Shelley!!? The scream was agonizing. The doctors gave him another shot of morphine while in the elevator, not realizing he was screaming for his wife and not the pain in his leg.

?SHELLEY!?

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Neil1

lol it cant be u who wrote that! its all in a different color :lol:

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Mara

I was merely making it easier to read and so it would stand out from my regular text.

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Chickenman

:lol:

Delia Smith. :rofl:

Please don't post unless you have something constructive to say.

Oh please. :roll: No one here posts anything constructive. Yourself included. Don't pick on the newbie for something you do all the time. That's called being a hypocrite, and it just makes you look stupid.

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Mara

Then what do you think the purpose of this thread is?

I genuinely thought that people, myself included, would be able to post some stories and etc. and get other members to give input on them.

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Chickenman

Hey, I'll probably drop some snippets of my writing in here too. But it's gonna get off topic, just like every other thread on GB. It's to be expected.

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GI_Admiral

lol chickens pissed :p

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Radioactive Isotope

geez Chicken, what's got your feathers ruffled?

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Chickenman

Everything.

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Radioactive Isotope

i know how that goes....

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GI_Admiral

Misery loves company?

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