#ill share a link to it in the comments. i saw it in the basement of a bookstore in harrisburg pa and it changed my life. my breath stopped

[suntails]

spící dítě

[songsoomin]

No More Dreams (A)

Word count: 3.5K

This is the story I wrote for the Ateez writing competition and I based some aspects on what I have seen in dramas/films and documentaries but this is just a fiction; I’m not trying to create a stereotype of what all people who are struggling financially go through - this is just what my character’s life is like.

If you are kind enough - or think this is good enough - to like and comment on for the competition I would be so grateful. The link is below and I used Veilduck VPN to get on the website.

Posted: 9th July 2020

http://ateez.kqent.com/bbs/board.php?bo_table=gevent&wr_id=3280

The familiar pain stabbed at Mingi's stomach again as he groaned and rolled over, trying to get some sleep. Hunger was something he was very used to by now but that didn't mean it got any easier with time. It still hurt just as much.

To say that Mingi was poor was an understatement, rather he survived each day not knowing if he would be as lucky the next. Today he'd had some cup noodles from a convenience store but that was it; he was out of money until he could get paid again but at least he had a roof over his head...for now.

Mingi's family had always been poor but it hadn't always been like this. He'd never known his father; all his mother ever said about him was that he ran off whilst she was pregnant so he grew up with just his mother. He still lived in the same semi-basement they always had done; really just a room with a partly enclosed toilet and shower room and a sort of kitchen set up - a sink and tiny fridge with a gas stove burner. The fridge was never really used as Mingi didn't have the luxury to buy fresh food to store; he just bought what he could afford each day so he didn't even keep it plugged in, not wanting to waste the electricity.

His mum got them by doing part-time work day to day; folding pizza boxes, handing out leaflets on the street, that type of thing and, although it didn't pay well they were okay. They couldn't afford lavish food and mostly survived on basic things but they were fed. Mingi went to school and worked as hard as he could hoping to make a better life for them both. He had dreams, he loved aeroplanes and imagined himself working in that field and one day buying a big house for his mum but those dreams ended when she died.

It hadn't escaped Mingi's knowledge that she struggled and that it took it's toll on her mentally and physically. He could see she wasn't well but never imagined the secret she was keeping from him. Cancer. She had found out about it but couldn't afford the treatment she needed. She kept it from him as long as possible so as not to cause him any pain. There was nothing that could be done so she struggled on - no need to burden him with the knowledge. Mingi never knew if this was the right decision or not; he couldn't blame his mum for wanting to spare him the pain that knowledge would bring but the shock of such a sudden decline was no easier in his mind.

His mum had worked herself to the bone to make as much money as possible for him but the cancer was progressing each day and once it spread to her liver she declined rapidly. Mingi would never forget the day he came home to find her obviously in pain and barely able to move. When you see someone everyday it it's easy to miss gradual changes but now he really looked at her he could see what she had become. She was thin and frail and no longer looked like the mother he knew.

"Mum, please let me take you to the hospital!"

"Mingi," his mother rasped out, "nothing can be done now...it's gone too far."

"Why didn't you tell me? We could've done something."

"The treatment is too expensive, Mingi." she reached her frail hand up to cup his face, "Even if we gave up everything, the money we'd save still wouldn't have been enough."

Mingi's mother stopped to catch her breath and he could see what a struggle it was for her.

"I had to try to make sure you'd be okay, I haven't got much money but you'll be fine for a little while."

Over the next few days Mingi watched as his mum faded away while he gave her water and tried to get her to eat. The last thing she had said to him was how proud she was of him and how much she loved him. As she slipped into unconsciousness he whispered,

"Mum, I love you. Please don't leave me."

but he knew this was the last moment they would share together.

He sat on the floor, next to her on their old couch, holding her hand until he fell asleep. When he woke the next morning, she was gone.

He didn't know what to do, who to call. They had no family except each other. He sat in their semi-basement next to her body for a couple of days just frozen with grief and shock until a teacher came by to see why he hadn't been to school. The door was unlocked so she carefully entered to find Mingi sitting against the wall next to the couch, legs bent and arms wrapped around his knees. His mother's lifeless body covered by a blanket. I t was clear hadn't eaten in days so Miss Kim went out to buy him some food while they waited for the police and ambulance to arrive.

They couldn't afford a funeral so his mother's body was taken and dealt with in whatever way they did when someone without money died. Mingi didn't ask what they'd do. Child services came round but he refused to go and, as he was 16, they didn't try to force him. The officer just left her card hoping he would go to them when he ran out of money and promising to check in every now and then. That was the last he saw of them, though.

Mingi realised then that no one really cares about the poor - they can't give them anything in return. He stopped going to school but his teachers never came looking for him, most likely courting the rich parents who could give the school money in return for good grades for their children. He had seen enough of those type of kids at school, never doing any work but passing alltheir classes, nonetheless. Everyone knew it was their parents bribing the school with expensive new books and equipment. Then once they graduate they'd get given a cushy job in their parents' company or with someone their parents know. They would never know what it was like to have a dream and have to work for it.

As far as social services went, Mingi didn't know if they didn't care or if they forgot about him. Maybe there were just too many other children in need. He was fine with that, though; the last thing he wanted was to be placed with some strangers or in an orphanage. He'd rather just be left alone.

Over the next couple of years Mingi barely survived. He picked up some of the jobs his mum had been doing but during the time she had been ill they had found other people to do it and now weren't convinced enough to give work to a teenager on his own. A few had taken pity on him and still sent work but it was sporadic. After he managed to pay the rent and bills he wasn't always left with enough for food. There was certainly no money left to follow his dreams and improve his life. Dreams were too lavish for someone as poor as he was.

As things in the house got worn or broken, he couldn't afford to replace them so he lived with what he had. His thin matress on the floor was old and uncomfortable now and the blankets had holes in them but he did the best he could, layering them in the winter when it was cold and he couldn't afford heating. It was hard to control the damp in the winter, as well. Without heating to dry out the walls, it kept spreading and opening the tiny window to air it out just made it colder so he tried his best to clean the black mould off the walls before it inevitably returned.

Of course, there were always ways to get money but Mingi couldn't bring himself to do them. He had too much pride to beg and too many morals to steal. That didn't stop the gangs from targeting him, though. He lived in a rather shady part of town and the gangs preyed on people in desperate situations so they kept trying to convince him to work for them - running drugs, that kind of thing - but Mingi wasn't a criminal. He wasn't like them and they got angry when he continually refused and often tried a more 'physical' way of convincing him. It was after one of their beatings, as he stumbled back towards his home, that he felt a hand reach out to him,

"Are you okay?" The voice sounded familiar but he couldn't place it.

"I'm fine." Mingi choked out, trying to pull away from the strangers hand that was holding his arm.

"You don't look fine, you look - Mingi? Is that you?"

Mingi looked to the good samaritan and was surprised to see his childhood best friend staring back at him with an equal measure of shock.

"Mingi! What happened? You disappeared and I never saw you again."

"Jongho?"

"Let me get you home, Min; you're a mess. Where do you live?"

Mingi directed Jongho to his semi-basement and let him help him in and down onto his couch. As Jongho looked around, Mingi couldn't help but feel embarrassed. This was exactly why he had never invited his friend back when they were at school together. He was always so grateful to his mum for how hard she worked to keep them fed and housed but he was still a teenager and didn't want Jongho to see all the pizza boxes and flyers that were a permanent fixture in their home.

"I tried to find you but I never knew where you lived. I wanted to reach out when I heard about your mum but I was too young, I didn't know how to find you." Jongho said with sympathy in his brown eyes.

"I'm sorry." Mingi said in his quiet, deep voice. "Things just...got bad, I guess."

With nothing in Mingi's home to treat his cuts, Jongho told him to wait while he ran to the store for supplies. He came back with food, as well. He didn't want Mingi to feel like he was pitying him but he couldn't ignore how thin he was and how there seemed to be no food in the house.

He put some ramen on and set about tending to his friend's wounds.

"I don't mean to interfere but you don't look like you've been eating well."

"It's fine." Mingi sighed; there was no point being prideful in front of Jongho when he could clearly see he was starving. "You look great, though."

Jongho laughed, "Well, you used to be my bodyguard, remember? You always protected me from the bullies. When you stopped coming to school I had to start defending myself so I began working out. After a while they stopped messing with me."

Jongho made sure Mingi ate and promised to come back again tomorrow. He'd found his lost friend now and he'd missed him so much there was no way he was letting him go again.

The next day Jongho returned as promised. It had been so long since Mingi had had someone to talk to like this, he was quite awkward but Jongho kept the conversation flowing.

"I told my mum I found you."

"I remember your mum, she was always nice." Mingi replied, remembering the times he spent at Jongho's after school.

"She wants you to come over for dinner - says she missed your smile."

"I don't think she'll be seeing much of that." Mingi mumbled, more to himself.

"You'll come, though, right?"

He couldn't refuse Jongho when he looked so hopeful; just as he remembered him.

"Yeah, I'll come."

"Great. Let's go!"

Jongho's family weren't well off but, to Mingi, their house was amazing. Bright and spacious, and so many rooms. It was familiar to him but he'd forgotten quite how nice it was over the years.

"Mingi, sweetheart!" Jongho's mum was such a warm person, enveloping him in a hug as soon as he was in the door. "I've missed you."

Mingi flushed with embarrassment, aware of his disheveled appearance, worn clothes, the bruises on his face and cut on his lip from yesterday's run in.

"It's nice to see you again, Mrs Choi." Mingi said , bowing politely.

"Come and sit down, dear. Tell me how you are."

Mingi sat on the couch chatting with Jongho and his mum but he was sketchy with the details of his life - he really didn't want to be pitied.

What he didn't know was that Mrs Choi could see it all anyway; his emaciated appearance, the way his eyes looked in awe at all the food - even though it was just a modest meal. His clothes were worn and tatty, and his hair looked like he'd been cutting it himself. Mostly she could see he just wasn't the Mingi she remembered Jongho bringing home after school. This Mingi was worn down and defeated. His big, bright smile was gone and it pained her to see him like that.

"Jongho...you didn't tell me it was this bad!" Mrs Choi loudly whispered to her son in the kitchen.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on, Jongho...look at him. How long has it been since he ate any real food? He's clearly malnourished. He's even been assaulted - what has happened to him?"

Jongho leaned round the doorframe to take a closer look at Mingi; he had obviously noticed he was thin and can't have been eating much but he hadn't really taken in just how bad Mingi looked.

"What do we do?" He asked his mother who had tears in her eyes at seeing the once happy boy in this desperate state.

"I don't know...but I can't watch him suffer like this." Mrs Choi was interupted in her musings by the boy in question.

"Mrs Choi?" Mingi said quietly entering the kitchen.

"Yes, dear?"

"Thank you very much for dinner but I should be going now."

"Oh, you don't have to leave so soon, Mingi."

"It's fine; I don't want to impose any longer. Bye Jongho." Mingi bowed and made his way out of the Choi house.

Jongho and his mum looked helplessly after him,

"I think he may have heard us." Jongho said, sighing.

Mrs Choi didn't sleep well that night; thinking only about how she could help Mingi. She hoped she hadn't hurt his pride with her conversation with Jongho in the kitchen but she had been so shocked at the change in him and had to do something.

Mingi also hadn't slept well - not because of hunger this time, he had eaten more at the Choi household than he would normally get to eat in a week - but because he felt bad for making Mrs Choi worry about him. He had heard her conversation with Jongho and didn't want to have caused her upset; she was too kind a person.

Mingi was folding the pizza boxes when he heard the knock at the door next morning. He wasn't expecting anyone except the pizza company but they weren't collecting until later. He didn't expect the person who was on the other side when he opened the door.

"Mrs Choi? What are you doing here?"

"I hope you don't mind, dear...Jongho told me where you lived. May I come in?"

"Oh...yeah, of course."

As he led Jongho's mother through his tiny basement flat he felt embarrassed for her to see it; pizza boxes, flyers, black mould and the glaring sparseness of it all, devoid of any kind of homeliness. He could see Mrs Choi trying to discreetly look around but she didn't look judgemental, she looked...sad.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Choi, I only have water to offer you."

"That's okay, Mingi, dear. Water will be fine, thank you."

As Mingi filled a mug with water, Mrs Choi began talking,

"Mingi, I have wrestled all night with how to approach this without offending you or making you feel bad but I don't think there is a way so I'm just going to say it."

He set the mug down on the small table and sat on the floor, wondering what the lady had to say.

"When Jongho came home and told me he'd found you he was so excited but he also told me what had happened when he found you and how you were living." Mrs Choi, paused for a moment before continuing while Mingi sat silently listening.

"Despite what he told me I was very shocked when I saw you myself; I won't pretend to understand how hard it has been but it's clear you've been struggling significantly since your mother passed away and it pains me to think you've suffered all alone."

Mingi watched as Mrs Choi wiped a tear from her cheek, clearly very upset by his situation. Mingi had been used to it for so long now but he couldn't deny it  must be shocking to other people.

"I remember when you used to come home with Jongho after school and you boys would spend hours in his room playing games before joining us for dinner. I was always so fond of you and you were so important to Jongho. When I heard about your mother I wanted to check on you but Jongho said he'd never been to your house and the school wouldn't give me your details. When Jongho said you were no longer coming to school I hoped it meant you'd gone to live with relatives - I never could have imagined you were here all alone, struggling to even eat." Another tear escaped her and she fished a tissue out of her bag.

"Mrs Choi, I appreciate your concern but -"

"Please, let me finish, dear." She cut Mingi off gently. "I can't continue knowing you are living like this. I don't mean that to cause offence and I'm sure your mother would be very proud of how strong you've been but, as a mother myself, I know it would cause her great pain to see you this way."

It was Mingi's turn to cry now that he was reminded of his mother; he would never want her to be hurting over him.

"I thought to help you financially but I just don't feel it's enough. I want you to come home with me - I can't bear to leave you here."

Mingi was stunned. Did he hear her right? She had always been a very kind and caring person but was she really offering him a home?

"Mrs Choi...it's very kind of you but it's too much. I can't impose on your family like that."

"Mingi, do you think anyone of us could sleep at night or enjoy a meal knowing what Jongho's best friend is going through?"

"I've hardly been a good best friend to him; I disappeared without a word." Mingi said ashamed.

"Sweetheart, you went through a situation no young child should have to experience. Jongho understands that - we all do. You didn't see how upset Jongho was to have lost you...he didn't know what to do with himself. When he came home to tell me he found you again, he was just so delighted. He more than anyone wants you to come home; he's missed you so much."

"I really do appreciate it but I wouldn't feel right living off someone else's kindness and I can hardly offer you much in return."

"You can contribute what you can if you want but this isn't a conditional offer, we don't want anything more from you but to be a part of our family. Please, let us help you."

Mingi didn't know what to do. Was there any point letting his pride get in the way of the chance to have a family again? Of being warm and fed.

"Okay, I'll come with you...if you're really sure." He said feeling quite awkward.

"Oh, Mingi, darling, you've made me very happy and Jongho will be delighted."

"I'll work hard to contribute, though, I won't let you do this for nothing."

"Mingi, I used to think of you as another son, just having you around again is more than enough but I understand. Your mother would be so proud of you." She said hugging him tight.

As Mingi settled in to his new room later that night, laying on his soft, cosy bed he thought for the first time in years of what his future might hold instead of whether he would even have one. Maybe it was possible for him to dream again one day.

[p-artsypants]

320 State Street- (8) July 16, 2016

A03 | FF.Net

Previous

—

The drinking song in the last chapter is a slightly re-written translation of ‘Fela Igjen’, by Alexander Rybak. I don’t know why I forgot to put that in the author’s notes on the last chapter…(maybe because I wrote the chapter at 2am in the middle of a party…)

—

“So this lady comes up to the counter and starts putting her stuff up. It was like, spray paint and caulk and sandpaper…stuff like that.” Astrid sat at a table in Hiccup’s basement. Heather, Fishlegs, and Eret listened and waited for Hiccup. “I was halfway through typing in her items when I noticed the guy before me had left his coffee on the counter.”

“People are lazy.” Fishleg’s shrugged.

“Ah, but that’s not worst part! The woman saw where I was looking, reached over, grabbed the coffee and finished it off.”

“She didn’t!” Heather objected.

“I swear to god, she did!”

“That’s the nastiest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“Alright guys,” Hiccup stated, coming into the room. He balanced a laptop in one hand and had a broad selection of snacks in the other. “My mom has two hours free and she’s going to join us.”

“Join us? But she’s in…” Astrid sentence got cut short as Hiccup placed the laptop on the table.

Valka Haddock, a beautiful and wise mother showed on the screen. She smiled. “So you’re Astrid? Hiccup’s told me a lot about you!”

Said boy in reply blushed. “Soooo does everyone have their character sheets?”

Everyone nodded, except Astrid.

Fishlegs organized his notes then held a blank sheet of paper out to Astrid. “So, since you’ve never played before, you’ll need to make your character.”

“Okay.”

“What do you want to be? Human? Elf? Gnome?” Hiccup looked pointedly at Heather.

“Well…what do we have?”

Hiccup spoke in a deep Scottish voice, one which Astrid recognized as the voice he used to imitate his dad. “I am Sho’gath the mighty, son of Ogro’Sherk, and wielder of axes.” Then he used his regular voice. “I’m a true neutral Orc.”

“Okay, what does ‘true neutral’ mean?”

“It’s an alignment. Lawful Good all the way down to Chaotic Evil. It just determines what kind of decisions you’re going to make. Are you always going to do the right thing and follow the rules, or are you going to mess everything up?”

“Oh, I get it.” She nodded.

“I’m a beautiful elven ranger. And I’m Neutral good.” Eret explained, holding up a scribble of a blonde woman.

Valka spoke from the computer, “I’m Magro Thiadim, a gentle giant.”

“I’m a dashing rogue named Cazriel, and I have an monkey companion named Steve the Well Trained.” Fishlegs frowned right after, "but since I'm leading the campaign, you won't get to see me in action."

Then Heather finished, “I’m a 200 year old mage that looks like a 15 year old boy, and I’m mute, illiterate, and eat rocks.”

“You must be fun to play with.” Astrid laughed.

“She’s not.” Everyone else responded.

“Well, now I have a lot of options. Can I be anything?”

“Basically.”

“I want to be an Angel.”

Fishlegs and Hiccup looked at each other, seemingly having a unspoken conversation. “Well, you could…but it’s really hard to play as one.” Fishlegs finally admitted. “Might I suggest a paladin?”

“Depends, what’s a paladin?”  

“Do you know anything about Dungeons and Dragons?!” He asked snippily.

She replied, just as snippily. “I know only nerds play it.”

“Guess you’re a nerd now,” Hiccup shrugged.  

“You’re damn straight.”

“Darn. Darn straight.” He corrected.

“Okay, well a Paladin is a holy knight. They get a animal to mount that they share an empathic link with. But they can only be Lawful Good. So they always have to do the right thing.”

Astrid shrugged. “Doesn’t sound too far from real life. I’ll do it.” Then she snapped her fingers. “My mount can be a giant bird! It’ll grasp onto my shoulders and carry me.”

“What kind of bird?” Asked Hiccup. “Are you just going to make it Stormfly?”

“No, I can be a little creative.” She laughed. “I’ll make it a potoo.”

The table went quiet. “What’s a potoo?”

She pulled out her phone and went to Google. “It’s this bird that’s really derpy, it looks like a living muppet.”

She found a picture and held it up. Sure enough, the bird did look like a living muppet. It had big yellow eyes that bugged out on either sides of it’s head.

“That’s terrifying.” Hiccup cringed.

“His name is Gary.”

“Your character?”

“No, my bird.” She stated it like it was obvious. “I still have to think of a name for my character.”

“Well,” Fishlegs began, looking at his notes. “How about Hiccup helps her set up her character while I set the scene.”

“Okay.”

He cleared his throat and spoke to the rest of the group. “You arrive at the Western dock of the town of Kolasiet. One ship leaves every third morning and returns every third night. To the South, there is a huge hill. In front of you, there are houses, a tavern, a trader who does business inside the tavern, a blacksmith, a church, a jail, and an elder who acts as a healer and a seer.

“To the North, there is an ornate, beautiful manor on the hill. It’s large and spectacular, but not as grand as the castle.

“To the East, there is a large castle up on the mountain. It is covered with ivy and there are lights in the windows. The castle is in ill repair, but looks habited. There’s a huge rose maze around the outside and heavy iron gates at the base of the hill.”

“Good start.” Eret commented. “I’ll go into town.”

Valka and Heather followed.

“People you talk to are pretty down trodden and poor, tell you to go to the Tavern.”

“To the Tavern then!”

“Okay,” announced Astrid. “I have my character. Now how do I play the game?”

Fishlegs groaned.

Hiccup explained, “it’s a roleplaying game. The DM, Fishlegs, will tell the story and you move your character within the story to finish it.”

“Okay…” she followed so far.

“As an example,” Fishlegs stated, “say you’re in the woods and there are trees all around you, except for a cave. Where do you want to go?”

“Well, to the cave. Seeing as it’s basically the only place to go.”

“Alright, inside the cave is a pile of bones.”

“Lovely.”

“On top of the bones, theres a dead carcass of a mystical being called a beholder. You see something sparkling in it’s eye.”

“I want to look at the sparkling thing.”

Fishlegs smiled. “You have found beauty in the eye of the beholder.”

Astrid scrunched up her nose. “Well, it’s been fun, but I’m leaving.”

“No! Wait! Don’t leave! It was a joke!!!” He begged.

—

The group had entered the tavern, where they met up with a paladin with a bird mount. Everyone else in the tavern was just as sad and pathetic as the people outside. Maybe even more so, since they were drunk of their asses. Only the trader, Joe, was in a cheerful mood. No doubt hopeful that he’d get some actual business. Joe admitted that he’d been in the town three days, and couldn’t wait to get out. Whatever was effecting these people was very serious and if the group of rag-tag fighter’s knew better, they’d leave soon too. They bought several drinks and items and talked to the bartender. A goat looking man with a mustache down hanging down to his nipples.

—

“Gobber?”

“Gobber.”

—

“Several months ago, we were prosperous. The castle was inhabited by a beautiful and kind fairy. She had magnificence gossamer wings and hair that shone in the sun like gold. Daily, she’d come into our town and grace us with her humble presence. She was also very wealthy, more wealthy then even the mayor, but she was generous and gave gold to whoever needed it, but always with the warning, ‘do not take what is not given to you’. But then…one day, the sky turned gray and all the gold that was given to us from the fairy, turned to coal. Great for heating our homes, mind you, but we were left nearly desolate. The mayor spread what wealth he could, but he was also depleted of his riches.  An unknown disease spread over the people and took lives. Where once riches flowed, now only sadness like a sprinkler of agony. I’m sure if our gold was restored to us, there would be a handsome reward to those responsible.”

At the word ‘reward’ the group prepared to do what it took to restore the town to it’s glory.

And so the group explored the town, talking to various people, including the mayor, elder, healer, and some guards.

Finally, they snuck up to the castle gate.

Two gargoyles sat on the top of the gate, watching them as they approached.

“Halt! Who goes there?” One asked.

The massive orc, with the same amount to tact as brains, spoke, “I am Sho’gath the Mighty and you will let me in this gate!”

“We do not let outsiders in, you do not have the key.”

—

Astrid snarled. “Well, then what are we supposed to do? Everyone we talked to made it seem like the Castle was the place to go!” She crossed her arms. “This game is dumb.”

Hiccup chuckled. “It’s supposed to be a challenge. Or else we’d finish it in an hour.”

Astrid checked the time on her phone. An hour and a half had passed, and they were no where near done. “How long is it supposed to take?”

“Two to three weeks, depending.” Fishlegs shrugged.

“You do realize I have a life and a job, right?”

“Relax”, charmed Heather. “We play three to four hours at a time.”

Astrid rubbed her temples. “I’ve played monopoly games shorter than this.”

—

A Paladin, Orc, Mage, Giant, and an Elf sneak into a jail.

Sounds like a joke right?

The guards proved to be a challenge, but the Orc did most of the work. Each one of the prisoners were interviewed, some being more impactful then the rest. The gentle giant, Magro Thiadim, was fiercely disturbed by what a shady man had to say to him. And so he left the town, and wandered onto the beach.

—

It was then that the game reached it’s second hour, and Valka had to leave.

The rest of the team had no plans for the rest of the day. Astrid was now invested.

—

The last prisoner they interviewed was a young woman. She had black hair, yellow eyes and a sickly complexion.  She explained that she was once the fairy in the castle, but she was ambushed one day and her wings were ripped off. Now the castle belonged to the evil that stole her wings and if the town was to go back to normal, they had to get her wings back.

The fairy gave the group a vile of her blood as the key to get in the gate.

—

“Okay, before we storm the castle, does anyone need to take a break?”

“Yes!”

Hiccup stood, picking up his glass. “Can I get anyone something to drink?”

“I’m going to need a hard drink to get through the rest of this.” Laughed Eret.

“Me too!” Joined Heather.

Astrid stood as well, “I’ll come with you Hiccup. I’m getting a leg cramp.”

The rest of the group started chatting about some TV show Astrid hadn’t had the time to see yet as she followed him upstairs.

“So…you like this kind of stuff?”

“What?”

“The…lord of the rings, fantasy stuff.”

“Yeah, it’s okay. I really really like dragons though.”

“Dragons, huh?”

“Yeah, if I could. I’d have a pet dragon. I’d have twenty.”

She laughed. “You couldn’t live here in a wooden house then.”

He chuckled along with her. “No, I guess I couldn’t.”

“But an Orc though? I would never have expected Sho’gath to be your character.”

Hiccup snorted. “He’s a joke character, don’t read too far into it. I made myself true neutral so I could do whatever I wanted. We’re fighting an army of zombies to save an orphanage? If there’s a reward involved, I’ll do it. But if there’s a bank next door, you better believe I’m robbing it.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Exactly. I’d never do that in real life, it’s just fun to pretend.”

Toothless lazily basked in the sun on his back. Stormfly burrowed into his tummy fur. The duo walked past and gave their respected pets pats and scratches, then headed to the kitchen.

“Are you having a fun time?”

“Hm?”

“You seemed kind of annoyed when we started…if you aren’t having fun then—“

She slammed her hand down on the table. “I’m having a great time!”

He jumped.

“Look, it wasn’t really my cup of tea at first, but I’m really enjoying myself now. Honestly.” She made her way over to the fridge and pulled out two beers. “But to be frank…look, I don’t want to dump my burdens on you…”

He leaned against the counter. “I’m always happy to be an ear for you. You…don’t have it easy. I can’t imagine being on my own without the help of at least one parent. And taking care of one, no less.”

“I’ve gotten used to it.” She smirked. “Anyway…I don’t have a lot of friends. I didn’t really keep in contact with the ones from High School and I didn’t make a lot of friends at Yale…So, I really appreciate you inviting me to these things. It’s nice to kick back with friends, you know?”

“Actually,” he smiled. “Fishlegs was the one who extended the invitation to you. He thought you might like the story he was planning.”

“Huh. Well, that son of a gun.”

“But, you’re always welcome to come over, whenever you want. I like you, Astrid.”

“I like you too, Hiccup.”

—

After a maze of living shrubs filled with man eating flowers and sentient statues, the orc, paladin, elf, and mage finally arrived at the castle door. With the fairy’s blood, the door opened to them easily.

Though evil lurked in the walls, the group spread out and searched the castle. Some found weapons, others, spells. But the paladin was the one who found the first journal entry.

“I arrived in the town of Kolasiet. It’s quiet, but teeming with life and untapped wealth. Everything seems so bountiful, great food, happy people. It’s almost amazing that there are not more people here. I ventured up to the castle, where lush Roses grew around the entrance. Though, as I approached them, the roses came to life and barred my entry. I sat on the bridge and waited for someone to come by, and sure enough, a beautiful fairy with red, silken wings fluttered toward me. I had never seen a fairy before, but she was awfully nice. She has invited me to stay in the castle with her, seeing my interest in the architecture. I believe I will enjoy my stay.”

—

“So, who wrote the journal?”

“That’s part of the puzzle!” Explained Fishlegs. “You have to figure out who wrote it and why.”

She sighed. “Is this part of the main quest? Or is this a side thing that we get to do?”

“Well…it’s kind of crucial to know what happened, but you don’t need it to beat the dungeon.”

She looked at her phone. They had been playing for four hours now. “How many floors do we have left?”

“Besides this one, two.”

Her head connected with the table.

—

In the study, the elf found the next journal entry.

“Nearly as soon as I got inside, I started sketching what I could. My hands have never worked that fast. I’m sure the Fairy had never see someone so frantic. She loaned me her study, with the promise that I would make better use of it than her. The Library is one room over and has more books then I had ever seen in my life. I could travel until the day I die, and still not learn as much as I would from those books. The Fairy, Aster, she calls herself, seems to enjoy my company. I presented my inventions and their functions and she was delighted, though I believe she didn’t care for the flying machines, since she has such magnificent wings. I might just stay here instead of returning home to Lunesti. I’m sure father would love that. Four years is a long time to be away. I often wonder if they get my letters, they never write me back. I digress. I’m in an enchanted castle!”

—

“Aster?” Astrid deadpanned. “Really?”

“It means ‘star,’ for your information!” Fishlegs defended. “Besides, I starting writing this before I knew you. So it’s not intentional.”

“Fair enough.”

Another hour passed and Astrid’s phone died.

—

On the stairs to the third floor, it was the mage this time that found a piece of paper.

—

Fishlegs passed the notecard to Heather, who in turn gave it to Astrid.

“Wait, why do I get it?”

“Because I can’t read!” Heather stated. “Remember?”

Astrid scoffed and read out loud.  

“My dearest Aster,

It is with a heavy heart that I tell you I have to leave. I have gotten word that my hometown has been destroyed. I must go and find out for myself. I wanted to tell you in person, but I am a coward. Leaving here is hard enough. I have a strange regard to you, which there is a chain connected to both of our ribs, and with distance the chain will pull and I would take to bleeding inwardly. I will take nothing with me but the key you lent me, with the promise to bring it back soon. Hopefully, I can sustain these wounds long enough to pay my respects. You have often said you do not receive gifts from others, so I leave you with my greatest possession: My heart. Nowhere will feel like home without you. I love you, Aster, most earnestly.

Your faithful friend,

Henry.”

Everyone paused to look at Fishlegs.

“What? Henry is a good name!”

Astrid looked smugly over to Hiccup and sang, “Someone’s in love with a fairy!”

“You had to use my name, Fish?”

“For the sake of the integrity of the game, yes, I did.”

Hiccup chuckled awkwardly, and looked at his phone. “Well, it’s 9 o’clock and there’s one more floor left. Are we pulling an all nighter?”

Something clicked in the back of Astrid’s mind. “Wait…I think I was supposed to do something ate 8…”

“Was it feed Stormfly? Because you already did…”

“No, it wasn’t that.” She furrowed her brow in thought. “Oh god, what was it?”

Suddenly, she stood, knocking the chair away from her with a clatter. “I was supposed to meet Scott!!”

Henry gasped too as he stood. “We’ll finish this up next week! You get going!”

“Thanks for understanding! See you guys later!” She nearly ran to the door. “Oh, and Fishlegs. Thanks for letting me join! I had too much fun!”

—

Astrid sped home. Traffic laws be damned, she lived twenty-five minutes away from Hiccup. But she made it in fifteen. She’d never be this lucky again.

She hopped out of her jeep and hurried to the door. “I’m home!” She called to her roommate. “But just for a second, then I’m leaving again!”

She burst into her room and turned on the light, then jumped a mile high.

Scott was sitting on her bed, glowering with a white hot rage.

“What-how—I thought—!” She stammered. She had practiced what she was going to say to him, but they all flew out her ears at the sight of him.

“You didn’t answer my texts or my calls.” He stated.

“My phone died.” She fished it out of her pocket and held it out to him as proof. “I swear to God that I didn’t mean to ditch you. I was at a friend’s house and we were playing Dungeons and Dragons and—“

He laughed. That was a good sign, right? “You were playing what?”

“Dungeons and Dragons…” She repeated, quietly.

The anger was still there, but he looked embarrass as he stood. “You’re telling me…that you left me alone in that restaurant, by myself, because you were playing that…that stupid, weird game? Are you serious?!”

“Scott, I swear I didn’t mean to do that to you!”

“I can’t believe you!” He shouted, startling her. “Do you know how humiliating that was? I waited there for an hour, and you never showed! People kept looking over at me an whispering. It was horrible, Astrid!”

Astrid reddened slightly, hating the feeling of being in the wrong. But she was also a fighter, and in this situation, it wasn’t really a good trait to have. Her nose flared. “Now you know how I feel.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

She raised her head defiantly to meet his eyes. “You heard me. You’ve done this kind of shit to me before. But there are times I’ve waited more than an hour for you to show up.”

He ground his teeth. “Me not showing up is different, Astrid!”

“And how is that?”

“I’m very busy! I don’t have a lot of time to spare for you! Sometimes, things happen, and I hate having my time wasted!”

She poked his chest, “And you think I enjoy sitting around waiting for you?!” Her hands clenched into a fist as her anger mounted. Honestly, this argument was a long time coming. “You are the most conceited, oblivious, self-centered—“

His fist connecting with her face hurt more then she could fathom. Sure, he was strong. But never before had he hit her. Violence was something she sensed in him, but she never imagined he’d resort to it.

“You don’t get to speak to me like that, Astrid!” He shouted, his voice hurting her throbbing head.

She in turn clenched her fist and wound up, preparing to fight back.

But she didn’t.

Scott wasn’t the type to just take a punch. They’d volley back and forth until someone was unconscious. It had to end with her, so she took a deep breath and let her anger go.

And it was hard.

“You hit me.” She stated, plainly.

“You deserved it!” He shot back. “I will not stand here and have you yell and berate me with this is your goddamn fault.”

Again, she kept her anger at bay. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’m sorry I was late.” It felt like poison in her mouth as she spoke.

Hearing her apology, Scott’s rage began to subside. Without her fight, he had nothing to feed on and began to cool down. “I…” He looked away from her, “I’m sorry I hit you. You…didn’t deserve it.” It sounded like he didn’t entirely believe it. But she’d accept it.

“It won’t happen again,” she offered a smile.

“It won’t happen again,” he agreed. He swallowed thickly and shook his head. “Uh…I should probably go before…well, I’m still kind of hurt…”

“Okay. Maybe it’s for the best.” She sighed a shaky breath. “Drive safe.”

“Yeah…put some ice on that.” He shouldered past her and went to the door. “I’ll see you later.”

“Later,” she assured, half-heartedly.

Maybe when later came, he’d realize how stupid and awful he was and really apologize.

It would be nice, but it wasn’t realistic.

—

The paladin ascended to the top floor alone. Waiting in the audience chamber, was a werewolf, huge and black.

The knight raised her sword to defend herself, while the beast roared in anguish.

She ran full force, blade at the ready, and delivered a blow to the heart.

What the paladin didn’t know, was that the werewolf was an enemy she was never supposed to fight alone. It grabbed her by the legs in one hand, and her arms in the other.

With little effort, she was ripped in half.

[ecotone99]

Calico [RF]

Calico

When I was a child, a very small child, there was a girl who lived in the neighborhood, just one house over from mine. My parents never talked to hers, and she never came over. I never saw the inside of her house either, but secretly, we climbed the magnolia tree in the cul-de-sac in the summer time and stood at the chain link fence where our back yards wrapped around the small property between our houses. We talked at night. Our fingers touched.

It could be heard from where we hid when we met in the darkness that her father broke things inside of the house, and her mother wept loudly and begged for peace. So, at four years old, I did what I could to make her feel better. I showed her my cat, a big calico with one eye.

The animal was so big I could barely carry it to chain link fence for her. The girl told me it made her happier than she’d ever been and that she’d considered me a brother, even if I was younger than she was.

There wasn’t much for us to talk about after that, and one day the girl told me she had to go, that she was leaving forever with her family. It wasn’t something I understood. She cried. And when I asked her why she was crying, she told me,

“I cry for the cruelty of my own thoughts, the cruelty!”

That made no sense and seemed words far beyond her years, besides, so I had her wait and went and found the cat and brought it back to the fence, leaned over and breathing hard with my arms all wrapped around the fur. I told her to take the cat, that I wanted her to be happy, and the little girl did.

I never saw the girl, again, though I could be heard muttering terrible things about her under my breath on the anniversary of that terrible night, her departure from my life and the carrying away of my own kitty. There was only one other girl in my life since. We dated, or we shared a Safeway rewards card, even if she didn’t actually know about how I used her phone number for great discounts in the checkout aisle or me for that matter. Dating was just what I called it.

Almost twenty later, I was, once again, living in that house. My room was up where my parents used to sleep. They were both so ill and sick from their advanced ages, daily Spam consumption and cigarette smoking that they had hospital beds and beeping machines in the living room. It wasn’t that I wanted to live there. But I was having a mental breakdown of sorts and had just gotten out of jail for attacking an employee at the local deli.

I waited patiently in line. When I got to the glass encasement, I peaked through the greasy glass and picked out several crispy chicken thighs, but when the lady grabbed the first one with her tongs, she shook it and shook it rather violently. It was confusing and hurtful, and then I sort of blacked out.

According to the police report, I’d made at least three screaming accusations about her,

“Smelling like a diabetic,” before jumping over the counter. And I’m not sure what I meant by that or what exactly it is a diabetic smells like, but I don’t doubt for a second that those were, in fact, my words, even if I can’t remember saying them. Incidentally, the police also pulverized several of the bones in my hand and wrist during the arrest.

So, upstairs, my room had begun to stink of the Band-Aids swelling and slowly sloughing from my skin, obsolete brands of spray-on adhesives which I used to keep myself from falling apart (And by “myself,” I am, of course, referring to the crumbling plaster statue made out of paper and paste, which I kept tucked away in the rafters above my head, the one with the word “myself,” written on the placard attached to it.) along with a certain pungent musk emanating from somewhere. Everyone asked me what it was, but I always shrugged.

In truth, my pillow teemed with bacterial life which lived off of my cortisol rich perspiration. That was the smell. And when things were really bad, when I’d finish one of my bouts of throwing things at the wall, daydreaming about asbestos or mindless jabbering with my finger waving through the air, my pillow would squeal or whimper for me to come lie down and sweat, so it could eat. The thin fabric of the pillow case and corners had even begun to move like some sort of oversized leukocytic pseudopodium, and it would stroke my face and wipe my tears at night after my fits. Then, it would beg me for more sweat with its pathetic whining.

Meanwhile, the fat calico cat with one eye, and without the other, returned to the house almost two decades after she was taken from me. She crawled into the window and killed rats for us. She had kittens in the basement. The trio of kittens would meow for mother’s milk incessantly, but one day, after a week of their racket, they stopped meowing altogether. It was then that my old calico cat perched on the fence and sang up to me songs at night about her loss, the misfortunate and soggy circumstance which had turned her own babies into a ball of fuzzy mold and dead feline flesh. It was a freak occurrence.

Soon, the momma cat began to create intricate artifacts from the small, strange bones and leave them for me in the rain gutter outside of my window. And she wailed. She cried in the dark or whispered in the wind that epic tragedy from the fence. She sang songs of her loss and everything that I’m about to tell you, everything that I’m about to write. The old calico gave me the words.

But, now, I can’t remember.

Was it all a dream?

Or was it real life?

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[topicprinter]

I almost didn't make a post this year, mostly because Ive been to busy, and well, uninspired i guess. But i decided hey, i already did 4, why not keep it up. so, hopefully you guys enjoy, ill keep it short and sweet, you can ask any questions you like.quick back story, my wife and i bought a bagel/coffee shop in June of 2015. Its been quite the experience learning how to be a business owner. We were 22/28 respectively when we bought it. Here are links to my prior Reddit posts on the shop, if anyone wants to read them.2018 https://www.reddit.com/r/smallbusiness/comments/8ueecf/wow_its_already_year_of_owning_my_first_small/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x2017https://www.reddit.com/r/smallbusiness/comments/6inm0g/30_growth_our_2nd_year_in_the_books_of_owning_a/2016https://www.reddit.com/r/personalfinance/comments/43aeny/the_good_the_bad_the_bagel/​The 4th year of ownership has probably been the easiest, though that's relative! still a lot of challenges this year for sure. first, quickly the numbers. This year we saw 18% year over year growth, with an average daily sales of $1264 and a yearly gross of $450k. when we took over, the business had done $160k and $515/day over its previous year. This is all in 600sqft, ( 150 kitchen, 100 front house, 150 dining area, 200 basement). We have also developed quite the local base of customers. When we took ownership, less than 25% of our total sales were people who lived or worked in the area. Its now easily 60-70% of our base. It helps that are particular are is undergoing gentrification.we now have the best crew we have ever had! we have 3 full time employees, and 4 part time, tho when college starts in a few weeks that will drop by 1. We have several multi year employees now, and have created a reliable staff who loves their jobs. We now pay a base pay of $12-$16, plus tips run $4-7/hr. This has also helped us develop a stellar reputation for our AMAZING service. Our staff loves our customers, and vice versa. This helps, along with our constant striving for high quality food, us maintain an impeccable rating on social review platforms.Unemployment here in Reno has remained under 4% which has made hiring difficult and driven up wagesWe participated in a university marketing course this year, as sort of a class project, and this has helped us in a lot of ways. We are definitely doing more now to market ourselves better. The wife and I are still working quite a bit, but it has improved since the first years. We now work 38-48 hrs per week, with occasional 3 days weekends. This has been great for our health, as the first few years we often worked 60-80hrs with no days off for weeks on end.we managed to solve the huge problem of our AC issues before this summer started. Long story short, our unit was no designed to handle the amount of equipment, people and operations we have. Its was old and inefficient. Temps were regularly 80-85* in front and 82-92* in the kitchen, depending on how hot it was outside. it would cost $10k to put a new unit in (rooftop) and we weren't about to pay that. Our landlord is useless. So this year, we installed a 1600sqft Evap cooler in one of our kitchen windows ( humidity here is between 8-15% during the summer) and it has been a work horse! kitchen temps between 68-75*. we did have to buy a supplemental window AC unit for the front , but with a few well placed fans, the front has been between 72-77*. This has been a huge WIN for us, and saved us $300 a month on electric ( we had 3 portables last summer that ate so much power)We also performed a renovation on New years of our front of house. We polished our concrete floors ( they had this black glue on them from when they had lam. in the past), reorganized our layout to create better flow and more space, and installed digital menu boards. We also simplified our menu, removing some under performers and creating a few new options. We try to do this every so often, and now with digital menu boards we can. We even made our own artwork for it on Adobe illustrator. We also made a move to serve our food to-go. in such a small space (we have 12 total seats inside, then about 28 seats outside), it makes the most sense, especially since 70% of our orders were already to go anyway. People are welcome to stay and hang out, but this helps our efficiency (reduces steps and confusion in the kitchen), and encourages the movement of people.Looking back, we have come so far. We have created so much efficiency in our space compared to when we first took over. We operate like a well oiled machine, and our ticket times never get above 5-10* minutes. In fact, when its not crazy busy, most orders go out in under 4min. We have learned a lot, and have some new challenges this year, including the sale of the building we are in. Ive attached a few pics, if you have any questions i will do my best to answer.pics https://imgur.com/a/MWDYkk6