Wishing I could Just Fade Out Of Existence
Read The Rules First.
Your Word Prompt is: Alone
******Fiction Written by Robert T Gasperson © 8/27/2007******
Jon lay in his bed wishing he could just fade out of existence. He had spent so much of his life trying to make people happy. It was like he was living for others. He was not living for himself. Now it all caught up with him. He just didn’t know how to handle it.
Time after time he would go out of his way to help someone, just to realize they were out to take advantage of him. All they wanted was his time and effort and sometimes his things. He watched people take things from him piece by piece. His thought was that they would need it more than he would. They would also take his time. He would constantly let others talk him into doing things that he really didn’t have the time or the knowledge to do correctly. Then he would get yelled at by whoever oversaw that project and he would feel like a complete failure because of it.
Jon was not a confrontational guy. This really was not a good thing. Because of this, he would more often than not, allow people to just walk all over him. He didn’t like this fact about himself, but it was the way he was built. Changing it would be extremely difficult. He didn’t really know if he wanted to change. He liked doing things for others. He like the gratitude people showed when he did something they did not really expect anyone else to do. He wanted to be the one people looked to for things. He didn’t really care that he was not going to get paid all that much more for anything he did. He did care that people appreciated him; most of the time they didn’t. He would not say much about the point. He was brought up to not expect anything from anyone. Sometime it just gets to him when he doesn’t get anything in return for his efforts. A thank you is all he really wanted.
Jon wondered what it would be like if he could go back and do it all over again. What would he be like if he only did things that would bring him some kind of personal gain? He would definitely be in a better position. He would be able to afford his rent and car payment. He would probably be living in a bigger place. He might even have a girlfriend, maybe several girlfriends. Jon had seen people like that; People who didn’t take the time to help anyone else out. They were usually lonely people surrounded by many people. He didn’t want to be like that either.
Jon was a follower. He was someone who would have to spend the rest of his life watching other move up the ladder of success because he was not willing to take charge and lead. He was going to have to watch life pass him by. That is why he was laying there, by himself, not willing to move, not willing to go outside, dot willing to live.
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August 28th, 2007 at 4:40 am
I figured I’d show some support by writing with you…I’m terrible at reviewing things, else I’d be productive on that front too. For some reason I find it terribly amusing that both of our interpretations of “alone” involved a person being alone with their thoughts in bed…despite the fact that held off on reading yours until I was finished writing.
Best of luck and I’ll try to pitch in on all of your other prompts.
Alone
Word Count: 338
Night after night it was the same thing. Laying unaccompanied in an otherwise empty bed, surrounded by pillows and covered in almost too many blankets to count. The only lights came from the orange numbers on the face of her digital clock, a few continuously blinking lights on the electronic gadgets surrounding her computer, and the first rays of the sunrise peaking around the thick black curtains across the window. It wasn’t much. It was why she didn’t like trying to fall asleep, preferring instead to work herself into a crippling exhaustion and sprawling out wherever chance might find her.
No, sleep had not claimed her. Sleep had not bothered to cast its tendrils into her mind a single time during the four-and-three-quarter hours she lay there in an attempt to gain back some of her sanity and health. Same as it had been the night before, and the night before that, and, in fact, each night since Makaha left for the mainland. Her friend’s presence was such a comfort, even if he was just sitting around looking at magazines while she sat at her computer in an attempt to get her latest project done. Even if they were just sitting there ignoring each other’s presence, there was something supremely comforting about the other simply being there.
Her short violet hair was splayed wildly around her head in a small, tangled halo in a sharp contrast to her paper white skin. The small veins, barely visible beneath the surface of her translucent flesh, pulsed weakly with her heartbeat as her dark eyes stared unblinkingly at the ceiling above her. Six days. Six more days of no sleep, of silence, of solitude before Makaha returned. She had six more days of this and she couldn’t even close her eyes.
‘Feh. Sleep is for the weak.’ Even her mental tone sounded bitter. With a sigh she rolled out of bed. Enough was enough. Why should she waste her precious time attempting to sleep when she knew it wouldn’t come anyways?
August 29th, 2007 at 1:45 am
Thank you so much for your post. You are actually the first one to contribute. I appreciate it. I agree, it is interesting the similarities in our work.
I have dropped the ball when it comes to doing the word prompt for the past month; Probably because no one has seemed all that interested in it. You have refreshed my interest in it. I will try to post more on a regular basis.
Thanks again.