Party Vibe

I’m Sorry, it has violence in it and I don’t know how much of that you will tolerate. Also there is a good amount (or as some might say, too much) of cussing in this story. Another sorry for it being 12 pages long. 🙂 Please tell me what you think though. Here is an excerpt from the very beginning and a link beneath it to where a pdf is.

I’m Leaving To Mars

July 18, 2014-Michael


[Alarm clock sounds] “Oh shut up alread… Wait, what is this? ‘Dear Michael, I’m sorry to say this but…’”




Dear Michael,
I’m sorry to say this but I’m leaving. I can’t take it anymore. You don’t treat me right and I feel like I am just an object to you. You don’t act like you truly love me and haven‘t in a good while. I feel like a maid. And we don’t have the fun and wonderful times like we used to. Over the last few months I’ve felt like the person I met and loved so much faded away. The person I used to wake up next to in the morning, the guy who I blew a kiss to on the way out the door to work isn’t there. Now you just get up out of bed, take your shower and leave, no “good morning” or “goodbye.” You’re so distant and out of it every day. I was here for anything you ever might have needed me for but I can’t be anymore. I can’t be there pretending I am happy with the way things were going. So I have to go.


Please don’t look for me. You won’t find me, I’m leaving to Mars.


-Sara


Present Day-October 25, 2014-Michael


[Alarm clock sounds] Michael has been lying in bed for the last hour continuously hitting the snooze button on the top of his alarm. He has his alarm set for 6:25am and he is supposed to be to work by 7:30, but by now he has hit the snooze button several times and is running late.


“Shut up already you fucking piece of shit, don’t you see I am awake already and don’t want to get up. Of course not, you’re just a piece of plastic. OH AND ITS SEVEN FIFTEEN, GREAT…”
Now turning it off completely Michael gets up in his groggy and sleepy state to call into work sick; his boss, Frank, picks up. “Yeah, um, I’m not going to be able to come in today. I’m not feeling well.”
“Alright Michael but just know that you don’t have to call in sick, you can say what is really going on if it will help. I’m here to help whenever you or anyone else here needs it.”
“Okay, Thanks.” Michael, hanging up the phone, walks to the island in the middle of the kitchen to start making his coffee. He puts the ground up coffee into the coffee maker and sets it for 3 minutes and opens up the refrigerator behind him to find something to eat. He settles on the first thing he sees, a microwavable Jimmy Dean breakfast sandwich. He grabs a plate from the cabinet and unwraps the sandwich, then sets it inside the microwave and sets it to cook for a minute fifty seconds.
“Beep…Beep…Beep…” His sandwich is ready and as is his coffee, so he walks back to the microwave to get his food and takes a mug with him to pour his coffee into. When he sits back down at the island he turns on the little wall mounted TV and flips through channel after channel until he finds the morning news. Taking brief glances at the TV while he eats his sandwich, he realizes what’s on the news, another big city crime, or so he thinks. Not thinking about it, Michael takes a sip of his burning hot coffee, “AH SHIT THAT WAS FUCKING HOT!” scorching the inside of his throat. Then he hears the fateful words on the news cast, “Sara Laney was found this morning…”

link to pdf