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Showing content with the highest reputation on 01/07/16 in all areas

  1. 1 point
    These were the days when the Vietnam War and the Draft weighed heavily on this run-of-the-mill college student. The dream began with waking up for morning classes and passing through an area under construction. Then there's the sound of snapping cables, shouts of "look out!" a sudden pain in the head, then darkness. I awake, shivering on a metal table, covered by a sheet. Still feeling a little woozy, I get up halfway and see someone in a white uniform. He's got the strangest look of horror on his face, as he sputters something, then runs out of the room. I look around and see some containers with bloody matter, bits of bone, hair, and a brain. What a headache, I think to myself, and reach for the top of my head. WHAT IS THIS? Instead of flesh and hair, I feel something metallic. Frantically, I look around the room for a mirror. Who is that wearing a metal hat? I wonder. I blink, and it blinks. I move my hand and it does too. I can dimly make out some blinking lights on "my hat." There's a tag on my toe...with My Name On It! Taking another look at the containers, I see my name and a case number on a label. So that's why that guy in white ran out of the room, he's surprised that I'm...Alive? Still a little foggy, I search the room for clothes or something to wear and Get Outta There! In the distance, I can hear a commotion, so I take what's available and exit the room. Still not myself, I find a room to rest in before figuring out my next move. I hear the voices of people in the room I just left. "Where is the subject?" "He was supposed to be dead, that's why I skedaddled." "The government is gonna skeedaddle you into jail if we don't find that experimental subject right now!" "Can you track it with the control box?" "Only at close range, I wasn't counting on that dead student coming back to life." I'm that "dead student"? Panic sets in, but I wait until the group moves to another room before making a break for the street. Hey, where am I? This doesn't look anything like Hawaii, more like a mainland small town. Then it hits me, this is a military base! I should have figured that out from the military uniform and cap I scrounged on my way out. I try to remember what I was taught in high school junior ROTC, saluting officers and trying to look like I fit in. Now what? I had made it out of the base, to a town just outside the gates. Then I woke up, as ordinary as any other college student. Hey, it's time for morning classes, so I gotta hurry...
  2. 1 point
    DeezyType

    Fear of Commitment

    Sky high, balcony, sun in my eyes, the phone, it rings Dare I answer, I know who sings "Please come hold me" I just want to be free The look in your eyes, sickening; deafening Have I gone wrong to trust this person Heart in her hands, barely beating Back and forth, I am pacing Can you tell me, have I gone crazy? Cross the boundary, borderline mockery There is no business for this thinking Must she know? Keep it a secret I'm thinking of you, its the season Something inside of my head I think of leaving but hold you instead Only choking, barely breathing Can you tell me, what is wrong with me? She rests her pretty little head on my my shoulder (Little does she know I'm thinking of someone) She sings me songs I wrote her (Someone else, it's not just you, dear) How do I know, if you're the one? (Is this love eternal, or have I gone mad?) Dedicated; complicated Fear of commitment; so demented! Am I wrong to feel this way? Dreaming of her, yet thinking of others everyday Am I consumed? My own twisted mentality Selfish actions provoked by false reality The time of now, so irrelevant, Stuck in this vortex, optical illusions, I'm in debt I owe my love, but to whom is unknown Is she the one? How will I know? Sky high, balcony, sun in my eyes, the phone, it rings Dare I answer, I know who sings "Please come hold me" I just want to be free She rests her pretty little head on my my shoulder (Little does she know I'm thinking of someone) She sings me songs I wrote her (Someone else, it's not just you, dear) How do I know, if you're the one? (Is this love eternal, or have I gone mad?) Dedicated; complicated Fear of commitment; so demented! Copr. Mason DuPont
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