That night, the boy dreamed of Anthony Maxwell. His face was floating in the hole, and calling out to him. The boy could hear Anthony calling out to him, asking where his parents were. He tried to run, but was pulled over by a cop and given a two hundred dollar ticket because he was apparently running in the "WALK-ONLY" section of the forest. The boy began to cry and turned away from the cop, only to find himself staring back into the eyes of Anthony in the hole. Instead of asking for his parents, Anthony was now asking for the boy's stress, for the traffic ticket, for overdue homework. When the boy threw the ticket into the hole, Anthony caught it in his mouth and vanished, but his voice could still be heard, screaming out for his parents.
He woke in a cold sweat, crying out into the semi-darkness of his room. It was early, much earlier than he ever woke up on a Saturday, but he couldn't force himself to go back to sleep. He was afraid to see all of that again. So he just lay in his bed, his mind wandering between thoughts of holes, tickets, and parents. The boy didn't understand how something so pointless and disconnected from him could torment him so much. Anthony Maxwell wasn't even his friend, he was the school psychopath. It was just a confusing connection.
Even more confusing, if not stupid, was that letter from yesterday. Why would Anthony leave a letter like that? Or was it even Anthony? Maybe it was some disrespectful kid just trying to freak other people out by posing as a dead kid. The boy corrected himself, Anthony wasn't dead, he was MISSING. Though everyone assumed something had happened. Even as he thought that, the boy heard his mother's voice prancing across his head. "You know what they say. When you assume things, it makes an A-S-S out of U and M-E. A-S-S-U-M-E-." His mother still treated him like a five year old.
He was wandering again. He turned his attention back to the letter. The boy also realized that even though he considered the letter stupid, he wasn't exactly practicing good logic skills. What was stopping him from reading the back of that sheet? Absolutely nothing but a threat that had no way of being acted upon. It was pointless to not read the rest of the letter while he could. Knowing his luck, when he went back, the letter would have been blown out of it's hiding place is would be sitting at the bottom of that deep hole. For all he knew, everything that had happened the day before was imagined. The boy did have a very overactive imagination for an eighteen year old.
However, he decided that he wasn't going to let something as pointless as that letter ruin his Saturday. School had only been back in session for a week and he was already exhausted. He didn't want to spend his first day off fretting over that.
And that's exactly what he did. He tried to live his Saturday like a normal teenager, but couldn't help thinking of the hole, and the letter, and Anthony Maxwell. Every place he went, he somehow ended up drifting back. Oh look, a pet store. It probably has rabbits inside of it. Or maybe it went something like Oh look, a mom and dad with their new baby! Anthony never had that... It was terrible.
But then the boy remembered. The traffic ticket. If he went and paid the traffic ticket and disproved whatever the letter was talking about, then he could move on and forget all about it. He decided that he would go and pull the two hundred dollars out of his bank account (he had just gotten paid at his usual job and could easily cover up the loss), then go downtown and pay the ticket at the courthouse. It would be cut and dry, nothing too difficult. He could pass it off without telling his parents, even though it would show up on his driving record. The boy wasn't too worried about it. Other than the fact that it was still a two hundred dollar speeding ticket.
***********
The boy had always been intimidated by the courthouse. It was a huge building, but unlike most courthouses, looked like a prison. It was solid gray, with the only windows shining into the lobby. He remembered taking a field trip here once in fifth grade, and could remember feeling uncomfortable under the harsh fluorescent lights. Too cold and unfeeling for his taste. Yet here he was again, walking through the tall wooden doors and heading to the reception desk, with his wallet in hand. The woman working there had hair that matched the outside of the courthouse and was hunched over an ancient computer, squinting through her narrow glasses. He could barely make out her shoulders under an ugly green shawl that was draped across what looked like her entire body. The more she hunched over the keyboard, the more the boy thought she looked like a turtle, not a human. Judging by the speed at which she was typing, it was very possible the woman was in fact exactly what he was imagining her to be. He found himself laughing as he approached the desk and tapped the bell lightly.
The woman spun her head towards him and scowled. "Give me your name, address, and reason for an appointment" she almost growled out as she shot him a glance that screamed "I don't want to be here, get away from my desk." Oh she's a turtle all right. A snapping turtle.
The boy said his name and address, along with explaining his ticket. Halfway through his story, the woman held up a wrinkled finger to silence him. "Sir, you have no record of getting a ticket. Now, if you'll excuse me..."
The boy stopped her, explaining that he had been pulled over for going sixty miles per hour in a forty. He had gotten a ticket for two hundred dollars and was coming to pay it.
"Young man, there is nothing under your name or address pertaining to a recent unpaid traffic ticket. Unless you have a receipt, then get away from my desk."
Again, the boy prevented her from shooing him off. He told her that the receipt was in his wallet, and was met by an outstretched hand. He opened his wallet and unzipped the pocket where he kept receipts and the like.
The ticket wasn't there.
MAJOR THANKS TO AARON KOEHNE FOR HELPING ME BREAK MY BLOCK. I DEDICATE THIS STORY TO YOU!
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
The Boy and The Rabbit Hole, Chapter One
There once was a boy who lived on the fringe of some major city, in a comfortable house, with regular parents and a normal sibling. He had an average social life and a perfectly fine number of friends. He was, in all sense of the word, simple in almost everything he did. ALMOST everything.
He excelled in a few places. He was the brightest in his school. He was overly involved in his church and held a major national position in the Boy Scouts of America. To add on to that, he was a senior in high school, and beginning to face the biggest decision of his life: college. It was a avenue that would not be open to him without many hours of work, simply because his family was relying on him to get a NUMBER of scholarships to afford college.
Needless to say, he was under a lot of pressure.
However, one day, while walking though a small forest near his house, the boy stumbled across something he had never seen before. It was a hole, hidden between the roots of a crooked tree. The hole wasn't small by any means; he could easily fit himself inside the opening. He figured it was some kind of animal, like a badger or family of rabbits. Whatever it was, it was deep. The sun was almost directly overhead, shining straight into the hole, and he couldn't see the bottom. The boy reached his hand as far in as his arm would allow, to see if the tunnel turned or got narrow, but it just seemed to go on forever. Already getting bored, he retracted his arm, but not before brushing up on what felt like a sheet of paper stuffed in the roots at the opening. The boy grabbed the corner and dislodged it, discovering a small envelope with the words To Whom it May Concern scrawled in sloppy handwriting on the front. By the look of the envelope, it had been there for quite some time. No doubt the person it was meant for never found it in the roots. Becoming intrigued, he opened it.
Inside he found two sheets of paper folded neatly, a small slip of paper, and a pen. The boy pulled the sheets apart to see both sides of each sheet covered in the same sloppy writing envelope from the envelope. He began to turn back to the front, then changed his mind. Wanting to see who wrote it, the boy flipped to the back of the second page and his eyes jumped to the bottom.
Be cautious,
Anthony Maxwell
The boy gasped and dropped the page in shock, not even noticing that the dropped page was falling deeper and deeper into the hole, until it was completely out of sight.
Anthony Maxwell was a former student at the school that the boy attended. However, Anthony had something wrong with him. He was an orphan, but always rambled about his parents, saying they were just going to come back. His grades were horrendous, always had been, and he seemed none too interested in improving them. Honestly, he seemed to have no interest in improving ANYTHING in the world, and claimed he wouldn't until his parents came back.
Then he just vanished one day. No one knew where he went. The search began, but was declared cold a year later when no headway was made. Soon everyone, including the boy, forgot about him. It was a terrible story.
But this letter could help! It might have been the one clue that they needed to find him! The boy looked down at the first sheet and eagerly began reading.
To Whom it May Concern,
It is doubtful you know who I am, but my name is Anthony Maxwell. If you have found this, then I have no doubts you have found the Rabbit Hole as well. This isn't any normal hole. I don't totally understand it, but this is the extent of my knowledge.
I'm sure you have sources of stress in your life. Everyone does. I'm also sure that you've tried to rid yourself of that stress in a number of ways. No doubt most of them have failed.
The Rabbit Hole offers a foolproof way to escape specific sources of stress. Allow me to explain, because I'm sure you're skeptical. Take a slip of paper (I have included one and a pen in the envelope) and write a minor source of stress in your life (ex. "overdue homework"). Drop the slip into the Hole. Only ONE slip. Then go home and sleep through the night. Tomorrow, go and talk to your teacher about the overdue homework and try and explain yourself. If something seems off, then flip this page over. Until then, DO NOT KEEP READING.
The boy scoffed. This was rubbish, obviously some stupid ruse to learn people's problems. Still, he was interested in disproving the letter, so he grabbed the pen and wrote "traffic tickets" on it with the pen (he had just gotten a two hundred dollar ticket the past week and neglected to inform anyone of it yet. His copy of it was still sitting in his wallet, in a zipped up pocket with other recent receipts). He dropped the slip into the opening and watched it flutter away. He was laughing, thinking just how stupid he was to try this. The boy slid the letter back into the envelope and stuffed it back in the roots. When nothing happened the next day, he wanted to come back and laugh at the stupidity of Anthony Maxwell. He stood and turned, leaving the hole behind him, and returned to his simple life, with Anthony on his mind, wondering what exactly had happened to him.
MAJOR THANKS TO AARON KOEHNE FOR HELPING ME BREAK MY BLOCK. I DEDICATE THIS STORY TO YOU!
He excelled in a few places. He was the brightest in his school. He was overly involved in his church and held a major national position in the Boy Scouts of America. To add on to that, he was a senior in high school, and beginning to face the biggest decision of his life: college. It was a avenue that would not be open to him without many hours of work, simply because his family was relying on him to get a NUMBER of scholarships to afford college.
Needless to say, he was under a lot of pressure.
However, one day, while walking though a small forest near his house, the boy stumbled across something he had never seen before. It was a hole, hidden between the roots of a crooked tree. The hole wasn't small by any means; he could easily fit himself inside the opening. He figured it was some kind of animal, like a badger or family of rabbits. Whatever it was, it was deep. The sun was almost directly overhead, shining straight into the hole, and he couldn't see the bottom. The boy reached his hand as far in as his arm would allow, to see if the tunnel turned or got narrow, but it just seemed to go on forever. Already getting bored, he retracted his arm, but not before brushing up on what felt like a sheet of paper stuffed in the roots at the opening. The boy grabbed the corner and dislodged it, discovering a small envelope with the words To Whom it May Concern scrawled in sloppy handwriting on the front. By the look of the envelope, it had been there for quite some time. No doubt the person it was meant for never found it in the roots. Becoming intrigued, he opened it.
Inside he found two sheets of paper folded neatly, a small slip of paper, and a pen. The boy pulled the sheets apart to see both sides of each sheet covered in the same sloppy writing envelope from the envelope. He began to turn back to the front, then changed his mind. Wanting to see who wrote it, the boy flipped to the back of the second page and his eyes jumped to the bottom.
Be cautious,
Anthony Maxwell
The boy gasped and dropped the page in shock, not even noticing that the dropped page was falling deeper and deeper into the hole, until it was completely out of sight.
Anthony Maxwell was a former student at the school that the boy attended. However, Anthony had something wrong with him. He was an orphan, but always rambled about his parents, saying they were just going to come back. His grades were horrendous, always had been, and he seemed none too interested in improving them. Honestly, he seemed to have no interest in improving ANYTHING in the world, and claimed he wouldn't until his parents came back.
Then he just vanished one day. No one knew where he went. The search began, but was declared cold a year later when no headway was made. Soon everyone, including the boy, forgot about him. It was a terrible story.
But this letter could help! It might have been the one clue that they needed to find him! The boy looked down at the first sheet and eagerly began reading.
To Whom it May Concern,
It is doubtful you know who I am, but my name is Anthony Maxwell. If you have found this, then I have no doubts you have found the Rabbit Hole as well. This isn't any normal hole. I don't totally understand it, but this is the extent of my knowledge.
I'm sure you have sources of stress in your life. Everyone does. I'm also sure that you've tried to rid yourself of that stress in a number of ways. No doubt most of them have failed.
The Rabbit Hole offers a foolproof way to escape specific sources of stress. Allow me to explain, because I'm sure you're skeptical. Take a slip of paper (I have included one and a pen in the envelope) and write a minor source of stress in your life (ex. "overdue homework"). Drop the slip into the Hole. Only ONE slip. Then go home and sleep through the night. Tomorrow, go and talk to your teacher about the overdue homework and try and explain yourself. If something seems off, then flip this page over. Until then, DO NOT KEEP READING.
The boy scoffed. This was rubbish, obviously some stupid ruse to learn people's problems. Still, he was interested in disproving the letter, so he grabbed the pen and wrote "traffic tickets" on it with the pen (he had just gotten a two hundred dollar ticket the past week and neglected to inform anyone of it yet. His copy of it was still sitting in his wallet, in a zipped up pocket with other recent receipts). He dropped the slip into the opening and watched it flutter away. He was laughing, thinking just how stupid he was to try this. The boy slid the letter back into the envelope and stuffed it back in the roots. When nothing happened the next day, he wanted to come back and laugh at the stupidity of Anthony Maxwell. He stood and turned, leaving the hole behind him, and returned to his simple life, with Anthony on his mind, wondering what exactly had happened to him.
MAJOR THANKS TO AARON KOEHNE FOR HELPING ME BREAK MY BLOCK. I DEDICATE THIS STORY TO YOU!
Starting a series!
I've decided that writing short poems and stories are starting to bore me slightly, and want to show that I am more versatile with my writing style, so I'm going to start a small series called "The Boy and The Rabbit Hole." I really hope that you enjoy it and would love to hear feedback from everyone as the story progresses. Thanks everyone! But a major thanks to Aaron Koehne for giving me the advice that broke my writer's block. This story is dedicated to you Aaron!
R. R. Barrett
R. R. Barrett
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