Last night’s story from Twitter

Please read and drop me feedback folks.

Sometimes people make wishes on a whim, foolish ones that we’d never intend to come to pass. In fact, all of us have made some silly wishes that we would really not want granted. It’s not because we’re foolish, or because we’re overly optimistic. We make these wishes due to our lack of foresight. The way of the world is really cruel and harsh, but despite this most of the time things work out for the greater good.


Evil is hidden away among things that we don’t understand. Those who wish to wipe out evil are dreamers. They don’t understand the true nature of such forces. As long as there is good on this earth, evil will be around to oppose it. Anger is often considered to be an evil force. However, sometimes anger drives people to do what needs to be done. It’s all a matter of perspective. A killer walks into a man’s home and threatens his family. As a force in itself, anger would drive this man to protect those he loved from harm. Human nature doesn’t consider the act of killing a threat to our lives in such a way as evil. However, our philosophy towards evil tells us that in fact, it is simply choosing the lesser evil.

If the bombing of Pearl Harbor did not anger America, what then could have been the outcome of the Second Great War? Germany would have probably fallen in the end eventually. The Russian front had done quite a number on them and was one of many other factors in their downfall. Perhaps the greatest being the American’s entrance into the war in Europe. I could cite many examples, but we have yet to see true evil….


A young man named Carrot strolled down the street in the middle of New York City. He’d come there for little more than to visit an old friend. The meeting was over, and it was time to return home. Carrot was just an average man, he stood at a height of five foot eleven inches. His hair was a messy brown mop that covered his face in a manner that allowed bangs to shade his eyes. A cigarette parted his lips and his face bore a scowl that seemed to be etched into his face permanently. He wore a trenchcoat, a black t-shirt and a pair of black jeans to complete his simple ensemble. He took a drag off of his cigarette and flicked it into the puddle at his feet as he crossed the street in the night. It was around ten, and he was in a quiet area of the city. Apartments loomed over his head, and there was little activity with the exception of a cat sorting through someone’s garbage or various bits of debris being blown into the air due to the steam rising out of manhole covers.

His walk was purposeful, heading back to a street where he could catch a cab back to his hotel. The restaurant he’d met his old friend at was just a few blocks from one of the more busy streets in New York. It wasn’t that far, and despite the myths, the streets weren’t as dangerous as movies and television portrayed them as.

Something caught his eye and he turned to see a man standing in the middle of the road in confusion. He glanced around for a moment and scowled as he saw little that interested him. Carrot ignored him, instead moving towards his destination with a calm indifference.

The man spoke to him, there was an accent to his voice maybe it was Japanese. “Where am I?”

“Eh?” replied Carrot as he turned to face the man.

The man was young, appearing to be in his twenties, with short cut sandy blonde hair. He was adorned in a black uniform that some military general might wear. His face was a hard scowl as he glared back at the only other person in the street.

“You speak English?” asked Carrot as he nodded at him acknowledging the man.

“What?” asked the man in Japanese.

Carrot sighed and switched languages. “I not speaking Japanese well,” he replied.

“You seem to know enough,” said the man as he frowned at him. “Where am I human?”

“New York,” replied Carrot with a small shrug of his shoulders.

“Damn,” snorted the man in reply. “That witch, she missed.”

“Missed?” asked Carrot in confusion.

“How far am I from Tokyo?” asked the man as he frowned at him.

Carrot shifted his stance. He turned to face the man and frowned. “You is kidding?”

“No. Tell me or I’ll destroy you!” The man said this with an anger creeping into his voice.

“Be calm!” Carrot replied as he backed away with his hands in front of him. “You’re on the other side of the world.”

“Stupid…” grumbled the man as he turned away from Carrot and snorted. “How can she be that bad?”

“I heard that,” said a distinctly feminine voice from all around them.

“Jeezus!” muttered Carrot in English as he whirled around, his trenchcoat whipping through the air as he looked around for the source of the voice.

“I’m correcting it now. Be wary Jadeite, I am watching you,” said the voice.

“Jadeite? What is this? Some kind of joke?” muttered Carrot irritably. “What the hell is going on here?”

The strange man smirked at Carrot for a moment. “Goodbye foolish human.”

Carrot covered his face as a light formed around him, blinding him completely. Then, the world went dark.


Waking up in the street is, and always shall be, a real bitch. He pushed himself up with his arms and coughed as he staggered to his feet. A strange pain in his side alerted him immediately as he felt something impact his side. Someone was speaking to him in Japanese and he staggered to his feet, disoriented by the strike and the voice.


“Get the hell up punk!” snapped a voice.

“Who the hell?” he muttered.

“Americans, drunk in the street, huh kid?” snorted the police officer that looked at him with a scowl on his face. He was an Asian man, and was still using his native language.

“Come on kid. You’re coming with me,” said the man as he grabbed Carrot’s arm roughly and jerked him towards him.

“What? Where am I? Who are you?” asked Carrot as he continued to shield his face from the sunlight of early morning. “What’s going on here?”

“Stupid tourists. Think you can get drunk in the streets here?” snapped the man angrily.

“I’m not drunk,” muttered Carrot as he staggered for a moment under the man’s glare. “I think I just passed out.”

The man twisted his arm roughly, forcing him to the ground. “Is that so kid? You calling me a liar?”

“Could you speak English? I don’t speak your language very well,” said Carrot as he found himself shoved against a wall.

“You understand well enough it seems,” replied the man sharply as he hooked one of the handcuffs onto his wrist.

Carrot blinked in alarm. “I’m being arrested?” he thought as he felt his arm being twisted harder. “Wait! I…”

“You can talk about it at the station!” snarled the officer. He gasped as the boy in his grip twisted suddenly, pushing off of his knee with the back of his foot.

“No! I…” muttered Carrot as he escaped the man’s grip and backed away.

The officer narrowed his eyes at the boy. “You’ll regret that.”

Then Carrot did the only thing he could, he ran. The officer gave chase, moving through the alleyways and passages with ease as he chased Carrot down. Garbage cans were thrown into the officer’s path as Carrot desperately tried to find some bearing on where he was. He dove through the cracks in fences and walls as he tried to escape desperately through the dirty back alleys. The officer was just behind him though, vaulting over the walls easily as he ran after him. Finally, Carrot saw his opportunity, a particularly tall chain link fence. He dove between the opening, shoving the chain up a little to accommodate him and rolled across the dirty wet ground before jumping to his feet again. He rushed around a corner and into an open door, closing it behind him; he simply sat in the darkness and waited, gasping for breath. The officer made it to the fence and cursed as he looked down at the opening, it was too small for him to fit through, and he’d have to climb over the top of the ten-foot tall fence.


It was two hours before he dared to emerge. Pushing the door open he walked out into the street and shielded his eyes from the sun once again.

“Where am I?” he muttered as he looked around in confusion.

It was completely ambiguous. There was nothing more than a pile of trash bags and brick walls. A common alleyway, if a bit smaller than those he was familiar with. It seemed to be almost unnaturally narrow. He looked down at himself for a moment and frowned. His coat tails were dragging behind him, and he found himself staggering. Running the way he had shouldn’t have been as difficult as it had been. The pants seemed a little too long, a few inches longer. The waist now hung from his hips like he didn’t have on a belt.

“What is this?” he mumbled as he fell to his knees in a nearby puddle. The water was dirty, but it reflected back well enough. “Oh…oh no. This has got to be some kind of weird dream…” he muttered as he put his hands to his face and gasped. Looking back at him, was his own face, but it appeared to be about thirteen years old.

“Oh. Man…” he said in confusion. “Where the hell am I?”

He shook his head, trying to clear the false image away, but it remained in the puddle. The stubble that had once been on his face was long gone.

“No way!”

He stood up, staggering once again as his head swam with emotion and pain. Finally getting the nerve to move around after a moment, he started walking towards the sounds of people, and cars. Finally, he emerged and squinted as the morning sun shone in his face. He pulled a pair of sunglasses from his pocket and put them onto his face before looking around at the thousands of Asian people wandering the street in front of him.

All the signs were in Japanese, and he frowned deeply. “I’m in Little Tokyo?” He wandered out into the crowd and glanced around. It was too much, there was no way. Television screens showed a Japanese newscast, everything was in the language. The children, the people, everything. He wasn’t in America anymore. Clutching his arms he simply continued to walk, not sure of where he was going. “This has to be a dream!” he muttered to himself as the events of the night before played through his head again. “It can’t be real.” Finally, he found a quiet corner next to the stairs of an apartment building and huddled down to simply sit in silence and watch the world pass by around him. “Oh god…”


    • Lynci
    • September 16th, 2012

    Oooooh, interesting. I would like more. I really like the lead in.


  1. Awesome write WiL 🙂


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Life Is MESC


The life of a middle school language arts teacher. Not to be taken to seriously. Kapeesh?




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