sticxstat
Thinking Up Better Lives
- 5
- Posts
- 20
- Years
- Seen Apr 28, 2007
The New Dawn
Before you read: take note of /. Because I don't have use of the *one* key on my keyboard, / means exclaimation point.
?Julian, get down here/?
Julian groaned as he was awoken from his peaceful slumber. Yawning, he glanced at the clock. 9:00PM. ?Now what,? he thought aloud as he rose to his feet. ?The sun isn't even out.?
?Julian/?
?I?m coming/? Half-asleep, Julian stumbled down the stairs, wary of the dog asleep on the top step. ?Lucky dog,? he thought as he climbed over it. Stepping into the brightness of the kitchen, he realized with a start why he was awoken.
?Julian,? his mother said, ?this is Mr. Mova.?
Mr. Mova was a middle-aged man that on a normal day would greet Julian on his way to school. He always had a smile on his face, and knew that courtesy reaped many rewards. Julian didn?t know where Mr. Mova worked, as their relationship was based wholly on morning greetings, but he assumed that it was a big business building since Mr. Mova was always dressed sharply in a suit. He did, however, know he had a daughter. Mr. Mova didn?t talk about her much, and she always kept to herself.
?Good morning.? Julian tried to loosen up the concerned look on Mr. Mova?s face with a joke.
?Julian, I think you know why I am here.? Mr. Mova was set on making his point made, and jokes were not welcome.
?No, I?m afraid not.?
?My daughter?s ring was stolen, and I think you stole it.?
?What/ Look, I?m sorry that your daughter?s ring was stolen, but I didn?t steal it.? Julian could feel he was tensing up.
?Julian, I am in no mood for excuses. I want to know the truth.?
?I?m telling the truth/. I didn?t do it/?
?Then who did.?
Mr. Mova was a reasonable man, and Julian knew that. Mr. Mova?s coolness about the situation reflected his personality, but it was only a matter of time before he cracked. ?I don?t know.?
?You don?t know...?
?I said I don?t know/? Julian could feel sweat. Mr. Mova opened his mouth to speak, then shut it, waiting for an explanation. The humming of the dishwasher was all that could be heard until Julian?s mother broke the silence. ?Why do you think Julian stole it??
?My daughter likes her privacy. I respect that. She doesn?t talk much, to anyone. Not even me. The ring was her mother?s. Her mother is no longer with us, she left us two years ago. She cherishes that ring more than any of her possessions.? Julian knew that to be true. She always talked about her mother. ?Around a month ago, she spoke of you, Julian. You were the first friend she has made since her mother?s departure.? Julian knew that was true as well. He wondered where Mr. Mova was going with this. ?My daughter came home today, crying. She said her ring had been stolen. She was devastated. But you know what shocked me, Julian? She said you stole it.? The truth ended.
?What/ How could she say that?/?
?Now why would she think that?? Julian could tell this conversation was closing in on him, and all he could do was watch.
?Why would I want her ring??
?I don?t want to know your reasons, I just want to know the truth. Now, I am going to give you one chance to get out of this mess. Hand the ring over to me. If you don?t, then I?m afraid I will have to call the police.?
?What/ I didn?t steal the ring/?
?Julian, this is your last chance.?
Julian couldn?t believe what he was hearing/ His closest friend was accusing him of stealing her prized possession/ ?Like I said before, I?m sorry that your daughter lost her ring, but I didn?t steal it.? Tears were welling in his eyes. 'Friendship,' he thought. ?Is it too much to ask??
?I?m sorry to hear that, Julian.?
Julian couldn?t handle anymore. As calmly as he could, he apologized for the loss, stood up and went back upstairs, leaving the calamity that was to be held if he stayed. ?Funny that stairs would be my only true friend.? Even this proved false as he tripped over the sleeping dog.
Julian could hear mumbling downstairs, but he didn?t care. He looked out the window, as a tear rolled down his cheek. He pondered upon his friendship with her, and then questioned if it truly existed. Reality had slapped him hard in the face, disillusioning him from what he once thought true.
Evil was surrounding him, and he now knew it. The newspaper knew it, the television knew it, the school teachers knew it, and now it was his turn. His only ties to good were stolen like the ring. ?This world is evil,? he thought aloud. ?Where is the good in it...?
His attention turned towards the computer monitor. The speakers made a sound, alerting him he had an e-mail. He glanced at the clock. Eleven. ?Who sent me an e-mail this late?? He logged on, only to find an e-mail from Opinion Resource Center. ?Great...? he mumbled to himself. He had signed up with Opinion Resource Center months ago, and he was regretting it. ORC claimed that participants could win a prize just for voicing their opinions in e-mails sent to them periodically. It sounded good, but that was months ago. Now, it was just a nuisance. Still, in hopes of winning a prize, he read.
Before you read: take note of /. Because I don't have use of the *one* key on my keyboard, / means exclaimation point.
Chapter One
?Julian, get down here/?
Julian groaned as he was awoken from his peaceful slumber. Yawning, he glanced at the clock. 9:00PM. ?Now what,? he thought aloud as he rose to his feet. ?The sun isn't even out.?
?Julian/?
?I?m coming/? Half-asleep, Julian stumbled down the stairs, wary of the dog asleep on the top step. ?Lucky dog,? he thought as he climbed over it. Stepping into the brightness of the kitchen, he realized with a start why he was awoken.
?Julian,? his mother said, ?this is Mr. Mova.?
Mr. Mova was a middle-aged man that on a normal day would greet Julian on his way to school. He always had a smile on his face, and knew that courtesy reaped many rewards. Julian didn?t know where Mr. Mova worked, as their relationship was based wholly on morning greetings, but he assumed that it was a big business building since Mr. Mova was always dressed sharply in a suit. He did, however, know he had a daughter. Mr. Mova didn?t talk about her much, and she always kept to herself.
?Good morning.? Julian tried to loosen up the concerned look on Mr. Mova?s face with a joke.
?Julian, I think you know why I am here.? Mr. Mova was set on making his point made, and jokes were not welcome.
?No, I?m afraid not.?
?My daughter?s ring was stolen, and I think you stole it.?
?What/ Look, I?m sorry that your daughter?s ring was stolen, but I didn?t steal it.? Julian could feel he was tensing up.
?Julian, I am in no mood for excuses. I want to know the truth.?
?I?m telling the truth/. I didn?t do it/?
?Then who did.?
Mr. Mova was a reasonable man, and Julian knew that. Mr. Mova?s coolness about the situation reflected his personality, but it was only a matter of time before he cracked. ?I don?t know.?
?You don?t know...?
?I said I don?t know/? Julian could feel sweat. Mr. Mova opened his mouth to speak, then shut it, waiting for an explanation. The humming of the dishwasher was all that could be heard until Julian?s mother broke the silence. ?Why do you think Julian stole it??
?My daughter likes her privacy. I respect that. She doesn?t talk much, to anyone. Not even me. The ring was her mother?s. Her mother is no longer with us, she left us two years ago. She cherishes that ring more than any of her possessions.? Julian knew that to be true. She always talked about her mother. ?Around a month ago, she spoke of you, Julian. You were the first friend she has made since her mother?s departure.? Julian knew that was true as well. He wondered where Mr. Mova was going with this. ?My daughter came home today, crying. She said her ring had been stolen. She was devastated. But you know what shocked me, Julian? She said you stole it.? The truth ended.
?What/ How could she say that?/?
?Now why would she think that?? Julian could tell this conversation was closing in on him, and all he could do was watch.
?Why would I want her ring??
?I don?t want to know your reasons, I just want to know the truth. Now, I am going to give you one chance to get out of this mess. Hand the ring over to me. If you don?t, then I?m afraid I will have to call the police.?
?What/ I didn?t steal the ring/?
?Julian, this is your last chance.?
Julian couldn?t believe what he was hearing/ His closest friend was accusing him of stealing her prized possession/ ?Like I said before, I?m sorry that your daughter lost her ring, but I didn?t steal it.? Tears were welling in his eyes. 'Friendship,' he thought. ?Is it too much to ask??
?I?m sorry to hear that, Julian.?
Julian couldn?t handle anymore. As calmly as he could, he apologized for the loss, stood up and went back upstairs, leaving the calamity that was to be held if he stayed. ?Funny that stairs would be my only true friend.? Even this proved false as he tripped over the sleeping dog.
~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~
Julian could hear mumbling downstairs, but he didn?t care. He looked out the window, as a tear rolled down his cheek. He pondered upon his friendship with her, and then questioned if it truly existed. Reality had slapped him hard in the face, disillusioning him from what he once thought true.
Evil was surrounding him, and he now knew it. The newspaper knew it, the television knew it, the school teachers knew it, and now it was his turn. His only ties to good were stolen like the ring. ?This world is evil,? he thought aloud. ?Where is the good in it...?
His attention turned towards the computer monitor. The speakers made a sound, alerting him he had an e-mail. He glanced at the clock. Eleven. ?Who sent me an e-mail this late?? He logged on, only to find an e-mail from Opinion Resource Center. ?Great...? he mumbled to himself. He had signed up with Opinion Resource Center months ago, and he was regretting it. ORC claimed that participants could win a prize just for voicing their opinions in e-mails sent to them periodically. It sounded good, but that was months ago. Now, it was just a nuisance. Still, in hopes of winning a prize, he read.
Dear Valued Subscriber,
Here at Opinion Resource Center, we are constantly improving what we do thanks to voices like you/ As a token of our thanks, we give prizes to those who help what needs help, who inspire what needs to be inspired, who change what needs to be changed. This month, we would like to know what you have to say about: society. Voice away, and remember: make it your own/
ORC always gave open topics like this, but Julian knew exactly what to put down this time.Here at Opinion Resource Center, we are constantly improving what we do thanks to voices like you/ As a token of our thanks, we give prizes to those who help what needs help, who inspire what needs to be inspired, who change what needs to be changed. This month, we would like to know what you have to say about: society. Voice away, and remember: make it your own/
Society. What is it? Is it our land, our neighborhood, our own home? Is it the people we know, the people we don?t know? Is it the world? Answer: all of the above. Society can not be determined by words, it is just there. But there is one thing that I?ve noticed: society is evil. In every way, in some way, society is evil. What act of kindness have you done today? How about your neighbor? Did you yell at someone? Did you wrongfully accuse someone? Did you make someone?s day miserable? Did you lose a
Julian had to stop and hold back the tears before he continued.friend? Like society, evil can not be described, it is just there. Now think about the good you did today. Did you help someone? Did you greet someone? Did you make someone feel good? The fact is, good is being outweighed by evil. You probably have at least double evil deeds than good deeds on your list of what you did today. One reason for this is friendship. I have learned today that friendship is what balances good and evil. Enemies create evil. If you are not a friend, than what are you? Look around the room. Look on a street. How many people that you see are your friends? Now how many people are those you don?t know. If you and someone you didn?t know were trying to catch a cab, would you help the other one out? No. Society doesn?t allow that. Then that person is your enemy. Enemies are evil. Let?s get down to the point: wouldn?t it be nice if that person you didn?t know wasn?t your enemy? Wouldn?t it be nice if friendships were not so easily broken by enemies? If friendships balance evil, then wouldn?t it be nice if society existed in a world where friendships were strong and true? It would be more than nice. It would be good.
Julian hit the SEND button without looking back on what he had wrote. He got undressed to get ready for bed when another message appeared. It was ORC. Julian thought it was strange to get a message so soon, so he read it.You?ve won a prize.
That?s all it said. And that?s the last thing he remembered.
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