I've widened this topic a little bit so I'm not the only one making a fool of himself. Post your old, and preferably terrible, teenage writing here. Don't go crazy on the word count though and don't get upset if people mock the hell out of you
Inspired by the recent topic on Mary-Sue characters I went digging through my girlfriend's old zip files and found a folder containing all the writing and stories I sent to her via MSN. There's some truly bad shit in here. The kind of stuff that makes 'it was a dark and stormy night' sounds like Shakespeare. Anyway, as I've seen a few topics on short stories and creative writing popping up I thought I'd post one of the less shitty stories for you all to laugh at. Oh I've also found 12,000 words of my first ever aborted attempt at a manuscript for a novel. It's totally epic in a teenage kind of way.
Anyway. Short story (I warn you this is a bit raunchy. I was a bit of a typical teen)
Glitter
By Grey Carter
I rolled out of bed, staggered backwards and let the world swing back into position. The window behind me was fake. The light it gave off had been filtered through water to give it a slowness that the clinically cleaned air of the complex usually wouldn?t allow but it was still artificial, fake. We probably couldn?t see sunlight even on the surface never mind down here twelve miles below the earth?s crust. The light was cold and provided no relief for my stuffy hung over head but it did chase away the shadows that lay across the back and buttocks of Black. It wasn?t a bad sight and it brought a wry smile my face. Time?s inevitable passing had stripped away all pretences and while other men like Pange, Jackson and Preston felt the need to lie to themselves to the very end, to continue the mad charade that their intellect somehow overruled their instincts I accepted my bestiality for one glorious evening and I?m perfectly willing to admit that I was smugly satisfied with spending my last night alive between the taut legs of Madeline Black.
I stared at her back for a moment, her skin as cold as the light that illuminated it, and allowed myself a brief fantasy. That I?d fucked her into exhaustion. That the hours I had spent sucking, licking and thrusting had left her exhausted and drained and that given time she?d wake refreshed and reborn.
?Black??
Hah. Fantasy. A wonderful thing. Keep telling yourself something and you?ll believe it. I could tell from her stillness that she was dead.
I honestly thought Black would see it out to the end but the empty pill popper and half drained glass of wine on the dresser told me it?d have been a bum bet. There was a letter folded neatly next to her last drink. It was addressed to me but I didn?t bother to open it. It wasn?t really meant for me. None of it had been. Even last night when she became that wild eye naked beast. The dick she rode, the cum she swallowed, the lips she kissed, none of them were mine. She wasn?t making love to me, she was making love to every man she?d never have the chance to. She was making love to her husband who probably lay burnt somewhere in the ruins of LA. When she told me she loved me, right before her second orgasm, that wasn?t an admission to me because to her I wasn?t Jake Hope, I was a record, a testament to her femininity. I had no right to read her letter. In a way I was part of her letter.
I dressed in silence and left her on the bed. An age ago I might have thought it a shameful resting place, naked on a stranger?s bed your sweat still warm on his sheets but there was no one left to care.
I met Jessica Hopson in the hallway. She was leaning against a bulkhead, her slacks loose and a cup of coffee in a thin plastic cup held between her hands. We?d disabled the central heating systems to lower our heat profile on E.T?s sensors so the air was chilled, I could see Hopson?s breath turning to steam.
?Madeline?? She asked, her voice small against the earth.
?Dead.? I responded ?Tower??
Her face said it all.
I wasn?t particularly upset, there was no point in it now but there was a certain finality to Hugh Tower?s suicide. Madeline Black, Thomas Preston, Yusef Green, they were all long term 21?ers. I?d met them on the 21, lived with them on the 21 and watched the world fall apart with them but they weren?t really important. Hugh on the other hand, Hugh was from the real world. When I saw Hugh?s face I saw him guzzling a Budweiser in one of our usual Chicago haunts, or looking stupid in a suit at my son?s christening. Hugh hadn?t always lived between rock and steel and neither had I. It was important to remember that. Even now.
A shot rang out but we?d heard so many in the past 24 hours we didn?t give it anything more than a cursory glance.
?What time is it??
?1pm? Hopson replied ?almost time?
I hadn?t realized I?d slept so late; I should probably have done something deep and meaningful this morning. Prayed or tried desperately to send a communication to my wife even though I knew she was long dead. Something nice and romantic like that, preferably in slow motion with a soundtrack by Enya. But fuck that. I spent the night with Madeline Black. She gives the best blowjob for 60 billion miles, I guarantee it. Rest in peace Madeline.
We got the control centre just a little late and found out of the twenty who had decided to make this stand only six of us had turned up. Me and Hopson from tech, Hackburn from security, Stacey, Tracey and Casey from finance. A failed lab technician, the lab prude, the bumbling security guards and three dumb blondes were going to be humanity?s last defiance. Inspiring.
Cooper, who?d suggested the idea, was swinging from one of the support beams. He?d hung himself with his belt.
?Morning Cooper? I muttered as I entered the door. Since the world went morbid my morbid humor went wild. What can you do?
?Are we ready?? Hopson asked.
?Yeah.? Hackburn said ?E.T?s scanner is somewhere above Africa right now. We can load and release before they hit us with the screamer. I reckon we might be able to realise tunnel flares and distract the screamer as well. We might just live through this?
Bullshit of course, the second we poked our heads above the burnt crust of our planet we?d have them blown off but the three blondes seemed to buy it.
I was vaguely amused by Hackburn?s use of E.T, he?d been one of the cynics. The one who?d called the television broadcasts ?a fuckin? hoax? and then when the broadcasts had stopped completely he?d insisted the whole situation was some kind of government training exercise for us underground nuke herders. He?d laughed at the panic, told us we were all fools for believing we were being invaded by ?the Martians? and ?E.T?. It took the private movie of a screamer plowing into London to convince him, the sea?s boiling, the earth burning then just static as the broadcast source was burnt to ashes. We went from a community of 300 to 65 within three weeks, mass suicide, murder, rape, all of it. By the end of it E.T had stuck, without the ironic twist. It was the end, it was no joke.
So here we were, the last six humans on the planet by any intelligent estimation. There?d be other station sure, but they?d be making the same choices we had to make. Stand now or burrow and live for maybe six or seven months before the food was used up then starve. So we made a choice.
Hopson entered the coordinates into the master computer, Commander Farrow had given us access last night just before he downed his whisky and coke then shot himself in the head with his service nine. We chose the nearest Screamer base, there was at least five of the things but if we could destroy one then? then what? Then nothing. We?d have destroyed one screamer. It wouldn?t do much but it would look damn cool.
We were buried, deep within a burnt husk of a world. A centre of light in a scorched monument to our own helplessness. We were the bird, flying through the lit room for a brief second, followed by endless darkness. That was humanity and that was us on the 21, we were the light, as brief as it was.
?Confirming Nuclear Launch in T minus five seconds? Hopson said, the fear left a distant ring in her voice ?Anyone have any last words??
?Yeah? I said silencing Casey who would probably have said something gay. ?I fucked Madeline Black last night. She was great?
There was only darkness from then on. But for a moment, an all important moment?
We glittered.
Inspired by the recent topic on Mary-Sue characters I went digging through my girlfriend's old zip files and found a folder containing all the writing and stories I sent to her via MSN. There's some truly bad shit in here. The kind of stuff that makes 'it was a dark and stormy night' sounds like Shakespeare. Anyway, as I've seen a few topics on short stories and creative writing popping up I thought I'd post one of the less shitty stories for you all to laugh at. Oh I've also found 12,000 words of my first ever aborted attempt at a manuscript for a novel. It's totally epic in a teenage kind of way.
Anyway. Short story (I warn you this is a bit raunchy. I was a bit of a typical teen)
Glitter
By Grey Carter
I rolled out of bed, staggered backwards and let the world swing back into position. The window behind me was fake. The light it gave off had been filtered through water to give it a slowness that the clinically cleaned air of the complex usually wouldn?t allow but it was still artificial, fake. We probably couldn?t see sunlight even on the surface never mind down here twelve miles below the earth?s crust. The light was cold and provided no relief for my stuffy hung over head but it did chase away the shadows that lay across the back and buttocks of Black. It wasn?t a bad sight and it brought a wry smile my face. Time?s inevitable passing had stripped away all pretences and while other men like Pange, Jackson and Preston felt the need to lie to themselves to the very end, to continue the mad charade that their intellect somehow overruled their instincts I accepted my bestiality for one glorious evening and I?m perfectly willing to admit that I was smugly satisfied with spending my last night alive between the taut legs of Madeline Black.
I stared at her back for a moment, her skin as cold as the light that illuminated it, and allowed myself a brief fantasy. That I?d fucked her into exhaustion. That the hours I had spent sucking, licking and thrusting had left her exhausted and drained and that given time she?d wake refreshed and reborn.
?Black??
Hah. Fantasy. A wonderful thing. Keep telling yourself something and you?ll believe it. I could tell from her stillness that she was dead.
I honestly thought Black would see it out to the end but the empty pill popper and half drained glass of wine on the dresser told me it?d have been a bum bet. There was a letter folded neatly next to her last drink. It was addressed to me but I didn?t bother to open it. It wasn?t really meant for me. None of it had been. Even last night when she became that wild eye naked beast. The dick she rode, the cum she swallowed, the lips she kissed, none of them were mine. She wasn?t making love to me, she was making love to every man she?d never have the chance to. She was making love to her husband who probably lay burnt somewhere in the ruins of LA. When she told me she loved me, right before her second orgasm, that wasn?t an admission to me because to her I wasn?t Jake Hope, I was a record, a testament to her femininity. I had no right to read her letter. In a way I was part of her letter.
I dressed in silence and left her on the bed. An age ago I might have thought it a shameful resting place, naked on a stranger?s bed your sweat still warm on his sheets but there was no one left to care.
I met Jessica Hopson in the hallway. She was leaning against a bulkhead, her slacks loose and a cup of coffee in a thin plastic cup held between her hands. We?d disabled the central heating systems to lower our heat profile on E.T?s sensors so the air was chilled, I could see Hopson?s breath turning to steam.
?Madeline?? She asked, her voice small against the earth.
?Dead.? I responded ?Tower??
Her face said it all.
I wasn?t particularly upset, there was no point in it now but there was a certain finality to Hugh Tower?s suicide. Madeline Black, Thomas Preston, Yusef Green, they were all long term 21?ers. I?d met them on the 21, lived with them on the 21 and watched the world fall apart with them but they weren?t really important. Hugh on the other hand, Hugh was from the real world. When I saw Hugh?s face I saw him guzzling a Budweiser in one of our usual Chicago haunts, or looking stupid in a suit at my son?s christening. Hugh hadn?t always lived between rock and steel and neither had I. It was important to remember that. Even now.
A shot rang out but we?d heard so many in the past 24 hours we didn?t give it anything more than a cursory glance.
?What time is it??
?1pm? Hopson replied ?almost time?
I hadn?t realized I?d slept so late; I should probably have done something deep and meaningful this morning. Prayed or tried desperately to send a communication to my wife even though I knew she was long dead. Something nice and romantic like that, preferably in slow motion with a soundtrack by Enya. But fuck that. I spent the night with Madeline Black. She gives the best blowjob for 60 billion miles, I guarantee it. Rest in peace Madeline.
We got the control centre just a little late and found out of the twenty who had decided to make this stand only six of us had turned up. Me and Hopson from tech, Hackburn from security, Stacey, Tracey and Casey from finance. A failed lab technician, the lab prude, the bumbling security guards and three dumb blondes were going to be humanity?s last defiance. Inspiring.
Cooper, who?d suggested the idea, was swinging from one of the support beams. He?d hung himself with his belt.
?Morning Cooper? I muttered as I entered the door. Since the world went morbid my morbid humor went wild. What can you do?
?Are we ready?? Hopson asked.
?Yeah.? Hackburn said ?E.T?s scanner is somewhere above Africa right now. We can load and release before they hit us with the screamer. I reckon we might be able to realise tunnel flares and distract the screamer as well. We might just live through this?
Bullshit of course, the second we poked our heads above the burnt crust of our planet we?d have them blown off but the three blondes seemed to buy it.
I was vaguely amused by Hackburn?s use of E.T, he?d been one of the cynics. The one who?d called the television broadcasts ?a fuckin? hoax? and then when the broadcasts had stopped completely he?d insisted the whole situation was some kind of government training exercise for us underground nuke herders. He?d laughed at the panic, told us we were all fools for believing we were being invaded by ?the Martians? and ?E.T?. It took the private movie of a screamer plowing into London to convince him, the sea?s boiling, the earth burning then just static as the broadcast source was burnt to ashes. We went from a community of 300 to 65 within three weeks, mass suicide, murder, rape, all of it. By the end of it E.T had stuck, without the ironic twist. It was the end, it was no joke.
So here we were, the last six humans on the planet by any intelligent estimation. There?d be other station sure, but they?d be making the same choices we had to make. Stand now or burrow and live for maybe six or seven months before the food was used up then starve. So we made a choice.
Hopson entered the coordinates into the master computer, Commander Farrow had given us access last night just before he downed his whisky and coke then shot himself in the head with his service nine. We chose the nearest Screamer base, there was at least five of the things but if we could destroy one then? then what? Then nothing. We?d have destroyed one screamer. It wouldn?t do much but it would look damn cool.
We were buried, deep within a burnt husk of a world. A centre of light in a scorched monument to our own helplessness. We were the bird, flying through the lit room for a brief second, followed by endless darkness. That was humanity and that was us on the 21, we were the light, as brief as it was.
?Confirming Nuclear Launch in T minus five seconds? Hopson said, the fear left a distant ring in her voice ?Anyone have any last words??
?Yeah? I said silencing Casey who would probably have said something gay. ?I fucked Madeline Black last night. She was great?
There was only darkness from then on. But for a moment, an all important moment?
We glittered.
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