Wednesday, April 18, 2012

A Monologue: Hannibal King

The following is a monologue I wrote illustrating my thoughts on why Hannibal King became the man he was when he met Danica. It's in parts because it was easier to post to twitter that way.


[He looked up at the clouds. After a moment, he rubbed his eyes and squinted back up at the sky. The clouds had played a trick on him. The way they were formed made him think he’d seen her face again.] Anna… [It had been a long time since the last time he’d thought about her. He was seventeen when they met. She was fourteen. Hannibal was staggering home with a broken nose, black eye, and split lip when she spotted him. “What happened?!” she asked with concern. Hannibal waved her away saying, “It’s nothing. I’m used to it.” “You shouldn’t have to be used to something like this. Come with me.” Before he could protest, the girl had grabbed his hand and was dragging him to her home.  Inside, she sat him down on the toilet seat and brought out a large first aide kit to dress his wounds. She was very gentle about it, taking care to cause him as little pain as possible. Hannibal was grateful, but he wanted to leave as quickly as possible. Nothing good ever came from him befriending a girl. Take earlier that day for example. In his English class he had made friends with the girl who sat behind him. He thought they were just friends and that she didn’t like him any other way, but such was never his luck. She ended up breaking up with her boyfriend because she claimed she had fallen in love with Hannibal. Well, her (ex-)boyfriend was none too happy about that and gathered his buddies to go look for Hannibal. It was five against one, but Hannibal managed to beat them all in the end. Hannibal never meant to cause couples to break up, but it always happened anyway. Even when he desperately ignored some girls, it still happened. That’s why, when Anna finished cleaning him up, he ran out of the house as fast as he possibly could.]

[Days passed before he saw her again. Hannibal was out looking for a job when he bumped into her outside an ice cream shop. “It’s you!” she exclaimed with a smile. Tired of walking around, Hannibal sat on the curb beside her and thanked her properly for her help. Anna inspected his wounds and said she was happy to see they’d been healing well. They ended up talking for hours before Hannibal realized he had to be heading home. He walked Anna back to her house and said goodnight before quickly leaving.] If I’d known then… I never would have left her side. [The next day, Hannibal returned to the same ice cream shop and got a job there. A week later, Anna came by. She was delighted to see him there and stayed until his shift was over, talking to him the entire time. They talked about everything and even though they didn’t agree on everything, they had more in common with each other than they’d ever had in common with anyone before. Soon, Hannibal found out that Anna came by every day just in case he was scheduled to work that day. Not wanting to embarrass her, he found a way to tell her his schedule without letting her know he’d found out. They quickly grew close. Anna started to bring in her homework and Hannibal became her exclusive tutor. Hannibal had never been happier. It didn’t matter that he would still get caught up in fights because he knew Anna’d be there to clean him up.]

[A year later, Hannibal went to a college nearby so he could continue to work at the ice cream shop and spend time with Anna. One day, after Hannibal had gotten an A+ on his term paper, he went to work excitedly, eager to tell Anna and get her praise. He watched the clock as minutes ticked by. An hour passed, but his smile was still there. Two hours passed and it began to fade. Three hours passed and he was frowning. By the end of his shift his expression was a mixture of a scowl and worry. Why hadn’t Anna come? Anna always came. Ever since he’d started working there, she had never missed a day. What happened? Why wasn’t she there? Anna didn’t come until three days later. When Hannibal asked her why, she said she’d gone on a spontaneous trip with her mom and didn’t have the time to tell him. Not entirely convinced, but not wishing to push her if there was something she didn’t want to talk about, Hannibal accepted this explanation and moved on. A few days passed and Hannibal began to notice that Anna’s complexion was getting steadily paler. He told her to go home if she wasn’t feeling well and she shouted, “I’m staying right here!” before covering her mouth and apologizing. Hannibal watched her with concern. The next day, Anna’s mother stopped by. She asked Hannibal to stop being so inconsiderate. When he said he had no idea what she was talking about, she apologized and told him that Anna had cancer. She explained that Anna had always been a weak child and that a few months ago the doctors diagnosed her. They said she had less than a year left.]

[Weeks later, Anna was sent to the hospital again. This time, her mother called Hannibal right away just as he’d asked her to. He ran out of the middle of his macroeconomics class and all the way to the hospital. Chest burning, sweat plastering his hair to his head and his shirt to his torso, he reached her room. Anna was in an induced sleep when he got there. He collapsed to his knees at her bedside, grabbed her hand in both of his and prayed. Never had he prayed before, but he prayed then. He prayed then and he prayed for her. He prayed for her and he prayed hard. Although it was against hospital rules, a little flirting got him the privilege to stay by her throughout the night. Hannibal refused all the food and drink the offered him. All he could do was keep his eyes on Anna, waiting for her to wake up. Anna’s mother watched him, feeling terrible about how she had treated him before. Two days passed before Anna woke up. Hannibal leapt to his feet and quickly asked her if she was hurting anywhere, if she needed anything, if she was thirsty. She began to cry. Hannibal asked her again if she was hurting and she shook her head. She hadn’t wanted him to see her like that. The pained look on his face hurt her more than any treatment she’d gotten. Hannibal held her close and spoke softly to her until she stopped crying and fell asleep again.]

[A month passed and Anna still wasn’t healthy enough to be discharged, although they did allow Hannibal to take her outside in a wheelchair from time to time so she could enjoy some fresh air. Hannibal started to skip more and more of his classes in order to spend time with her. His teachers warned him that he wouldn’t have enough credits to move on to the next year but he ignored them. Nothing was more important than Anna. They would sit under an old oak tree and stare up at the clouds. Anna would point out ones with funny shapes and smile. Hannibal’s heart beat more painfully each time he saw her smile because each time he would think, “Is this the last?” Before they knew it, a year had passed since Anna had been diagnosed. Hannibal tried to not get his hopes up, but it happened anyway. After a while, the color began to return to her cheeks and he grew more and more hopeful. After her sixteenth birthday, Anna was allowed to go home. Hannibal made a huge celebration out of it. He decorated her entire house, with her mother’s help of course. It was a splendid night. Anna took Hannibal out to the backyard to look at the stars. “Hannibal, why does everyone else call you by your last name?” He looked at her and shrugged. “I guess they don’t like my first name.” “Well I like it.” She smiled. “Let me be the only one then. Until you find love, let it only ever be me who called you Hannibal.” Hannibal missed the significance of her verb tense and nodded while smiling back at her. That night, he said goodnight to her and left the house thinking about how he would ask her to be his girlfriend. He never would have guessed, feeling so high above the clouds on happiness, how terrible the crash back to earth would be. It crushed him. It absolutely crushed him the next morning when Anna’s mother called, her voice watery from the tears that streamed down her cheeks, and told him that Anna had passed away in the night.]

[After that, Hannibal stopped going to classes altogether. He couldn’t see the point. No matter what he did, he couldn’t help Anna. After all the times she’d helped him, he couldn’t save her. He quickly became a heavy drinker. He went to parties every night. He flirted with the worst women. He was punishing himself. He’d failed Anna and he didn’t deserve happiness. Years passed and his life was as empty as ever. On Anna’s birthday he couldn’t stand the memories and went drinking at a club nearby. That’s where he met Danica.] And I thought my life was fucked up before I met her. [He looked at his hands and thought about the blood that still stained them.] If you knew what I’ve done, even someone like you, Anna, would hate me. [He hung his head and let the tears fall.]

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

A Change of Pace

That last post was extremely negative so allow me to make up for it by posting some funny pictures I've collected over the years!
How was that? Did you giggle? You better have giggled. Don't make me fight you.

Monday, April 9, 2012

What I Fucking Hate

Know what I fucking hate?

People who surround themselves with drama and relish in it while feigning distress.

PISSES ME THE FUCK OFF!

Bitches who cry when someone gives them a taste of their own medicine. Whores who sob when called on their skank shit. You know what you can do? GET OVER YOUR FUCKING SELVES! Those of us who are immune to your unassuming guise and see you for the self-important twat you really are should be rewarded Nobel Peace Prizes for not eliminating you the second we spot your "poor me" fuckery. And then while we force ourselves, with admirable willpower, to keep from biting through your jugular and watching happily as the blood drains from your body, the rage within us builds and builds and can sometimes get taken out on an innocent bystander. And why does it have to happen that way? Because sometimes you ho skanks are friends with people we like, so to keep the people we like happy we have to withstand your crap. And then a few things happen as a result.

1) We might bottle it up and then it eventually explodes at bad times.

2) We might forget to keep our traps shut and speak the truth, causing shit to go down.

3) We write posts like this, hoping that the fuckers we have in mind somehow manage to come across it through a series of events and see the error of their ways and reform themselves before we lash out at them.

4) We somehow allow it to cause us to implode and end up unhappy and without any form of release of aggression which will ultimately lead to a downward spiral.

There. Now that that's been covered, if you happen to be the type of person I've been describing, please do us all a fucking favor and quit your shit. I don't like hating people, but you're making it real hard for me to stay that way.