Story between two characters.

So I wrote this one sided story about two characters- Evan and Jill and their relationship. It's a terrible thing, as Margaret Cho once said, when the relationship is over but only you know it. 

A Most Fortuitous Coma

             It seemed serendipitous that Jill was knocked unconscious by a foul ball right before Evan planned to break up with her. It was Evan’s birthday and Jill had gotten field seats along the third baseline for the Nationals vs. Red Sox baseball game. Over the past few months, Evan came to realize that there were too many good excuses to stay with Jill for the wrong reasons. His friends and family constantly remarked how Evan had lucked out. She was six years younger, kind and beautiful. Evan felt lucky for a while.

Unfortunately, Jill had very little in common with him. To his horror, Evan became bored. After 12 months of drifting off during conversations about reality TV, Evan didn’t give a shit about how hot and nice his girlfriend was; he wanted out. Then she had the luck to sit right where Shae Victorino’s foul ball had semi-fatal impact before he could set himself free. Their fights had gotten ugly lately. He wanted her home. She partied more than he liked. He hated the clubs she loved. She wanted to get her kicks while she was still young enough to get them. Jill had extended the baseball tickets as a peace offering.

            Evan sat in the sun dappled Intensive Care Unit, room 11 on the 7^th floor of Scarborough Regional Hospital drinking a latte from the cafeteria and engrossed in his graphic novel. He agreed to come in early on the weekends so Jill’s family wouldn’t think he was a heartless prick and he could be alone. Yesterday had been rough for Jill’s parents. They had gotten news that the bleeding hadn’t stopped in her brain and that Jill’s condition wasn’t improving. She had been unconscious for a week. Evan was here for her parents more than Jill herself. With each passing day, he felt more and more trapped by his sense of duty to uphold this charade for them. The guilt sat on him like a fat panda.

To make matters worse, the cute night nurse was finishing up her shift and came in to give his comatose (almost ex) girlfriend her sedatives.

            “So how have you been today?” The nurse, Agnes, smiled as she unwrapped the syringe as easily as one would click a pen. Her dark brown hair was twisted in an unruly nest on the back of her head and the neat blue scrubs seemed tailored for her curves.

            Evan looked up from his graphic novel and smiled. “Oh the usual. Mountain climbing in the Alps, yodeling lessons. How are you?”

            “Oh, you know, the usual,” Agnes laughed, “I’ve been exposed to just about every body fluid there is in the past 10 hours. You’re here early on a Saturday.”

            “Oh, I took the early shift so her mom can sleep in.” Evan shrugged.

            “That’s mighty nice of you.” Agnes cocked her head thoughtfully.

            “Thanks.” Evan felt slightly guilty for flirting, but then again, he wasn’t the one in a coma.

            Agnes finished giving the medications and walked out.

            Evan returned to his reading and sighed. He wasn’t in dating limbo. He was in dating purgatory.

            Jill’s monitor beeped. Evan looked up and saw some red exclamation points flashing on the monitor. A troop of white-coated people in scrubs dashed in dragging a cart. Jill’s heart had stopped. They were going to try and resuscitate her.

            Evan felt numb from the waist down in horror as they tried to save his vegetative (almost ex) girlfriend. On one hand, it would be awesome if she passed away right now. No muss. No fuss. On the other hand, if she lived, he would feel pressure not to break up with someone facing considerable rehab and physical/mental hurdles. Evan was amazed at the degree to which he could disgust himself with his own thoughts.

            “Clear! We’re all clear?” Dr. Rosenbaum put the paddles on Jill’s chest and the shock produced a small quiver. The line on the monitor remained flat. Evan let out an inaudible sigh of relief.

            “One unit of epi!” A nurse plunged the stimulant through the IV. The monitor blipped. Then nothing.

            Evan was gripping his graphic novel into a tight tube.

            Thirty minutes later, the beleaguered medical team admitted defeat, dispersed and a sheet was pulled over Jill’s head. Evan had surprised himself with genuine tears. He waited for everyone to leave and sat quietly by Jill’s side. (Almost ex) Girlfriend or not, Evan would miss her.

            Jill’s phone rang. “Brian from Halo” appeared to be the caller. She had gone to Halo to celebrate her friend’s 28^th birthday 2 weeks ago.

            Evan answered without speaking.

            “Hey, Jill. It’s Brian. Did you forget about our date?”

            “No,” Evan’s heart pounded. “This is her ex-boyfriend.”

Five More Years

This was an exercise in characterization. I underlined the dialogue that was given to us and we had to build a story and characters around the dialogue. 

Five More Years

            Bernard Rice should have become a doctor. Or a lawyer like his parents advised him. But no, Mr. Idealist had to challenge himself as the vice principal of a large inner city high school. I’m going to make a REAL difference for kids!

            For 20 years, he corralled students with waning enthusiasm in the Halifax County school system. The administration was numb to innovation and the kids didn’t care to look up from their texting. Bernard had long given up on saving the future of America and focused on saving for retirement in New Zealand. If it was good enough for hobbits, by golly, it was going to be good enough for Bernard Rice.

            Five more years, he silently prayed. I just need make it through five more years.

And now, he had to discipline the infamous Miss Sheila Hetzel. After a rough week with budget cuts and firings, this was positively the icing on the proverbial shit-cake. He sighed, popped a Tums into his mouth and went to retrieve her.

            Bernard Rice didn’t say a word to Sheila as he walked her through the empty halls towards his office. Silence produced a desired effect, he knew. Sheila, for a moment anyway, was docile. He opened the door for her as the bell for third period began to ring.

            “Sit down, please.”

            Sheila sat and looked straight at him, but she didn’t speak.

            “Would you like the chance to tell your side of the story?”

            “You won’t believe it. Why bother.”

            “Miss Hetzel, you’re repeating Science 9 for the second time. Do you remember why you failed in the first place?”

            “No, I’m guess I’m too stupid to remember.”

            “Don’t be wise. You’re in very hot water my friend. Cheating on an exam is grounds for suspension.”

            “Suspend me.”
            “Strangely, you seem to want that.”

            “There’s no way I’m ever going to pass as long as that- dishrag is the teacher.”

            “I think a call to your father is in order.”
            “Great. You can’t touch me, so call him. He’ll take care of it. Guaranteed.”

            Bernard hated that Sheila was right. Mr. Hetzel happened to be the CEO of Centuar Labs and made more money in a week than Bernard could stuff into his mattress. After all, he had spawned the clever little shit sitting in front of Bernard.  Mr. Hetzel was the type of guy who took “care of things.” Bernard was the type of guy who had done the actual “caring.”

            Mr. Hetzel had gotten Sheila to repeat Science 9 after Mr. Seward failed her, despite the fact that Sheila had spray-painted his car in protest. She probably had another college aged boyfriend on spring break. Despite his weary exhaustion at Sheila’s antics, Bernard felt it was a shame that a ballsy firecracker like Sheila was probably going to drown herself in years of afternoon chardonnay like so many “Halifax County wives”.

            In trying times such as these, Bernard pictured scenes from “Lord of the Rings” as his therapist had instructed him: his “safe place”. He wished his mission in life was as simple as getting a ring to fucking Mordor.

            “Mr. Rice?” Sheila squawked Bernie out of his reverie. “So can I go now?”

            Bernard rubbed his eyes. “You want to know something? You’re a smart girl, Sheila. What do you want to do with yourself?”
            “Oh, should I ‘make something of myself?’ Are you a Hallmark card?”

            “I’m just curious. Cheating in class you’ve already failed is a waste of your time. What do you want to do with your life?”
            “Nothing.” Sheila folded her arms.

            “You don’t have to come here. You can get your GED. Get a job. Get out there in the real world. Do something.”

            “That sounds like a stupid idea.” She sunk lower into her chest.

            “I think it’s stupid to cheat on an exam and get suspended for a class you’ve already failed.”

            “Maybe I’m just stupid.”

Bernard took a breath. “Sheila, your dad may take care of everything now. Your boyfriend might take care of things later. But one day you’re going to realize you haven’t done anything with your life. Or you can decide what you want to do NOW and then go do it. I’ll give you some time to think about it while you’re suspended.”

            Sheila rolled her eyes and walked out in a huff.

            Gandalf didn’t have to put up with Frodo’s eye rolling. Bernard sighed.

Personification of Curiosity

CURIOSITY

Curiosity was born asking questions. How do bees make honey? Why is the sky blue? Does a dog have an allowance? Where did plaid come from? Do Chinese people go out for Jewish food on Chinese New Years? Are people different colors because of what they eat? “You never know unless you ask,” was her motto.

In science class, she discovered what onionskin looks like under the microscope. She also found out what happens when you put a Mentos candy in a bottle of Diet Coke.  Through trial and error, she found out that soy sauce doesn’t taste good in spaghetti sauce, but bacon in anything makes it more delicious.

She snooped into her sister Prudence’s diary, who presented herself as a saint, but had the soul of a sinner. She broke into her brother Inquisitive’s bedroom and found out what was on those blank VCR tapes. Treasures were always to be found in the back corner of closets. She was chastised for being nosy, but sometimes she could justify invading people’s privacy- like the time she broke into her roommate’s bedroom, found the roommate passed out and called 911.

Alcohol was Curiosity’s vice and it made her even more uninhibited. She drunkenly hooked up with Ignorance because he was a brooding loner and she liked feeling a little dangerous. They had a brief tumultuous relationship that ended when she hacked his email and discovered Ignorance was having an affair with Politeness.

Curiosity got into trouble and sometimes found answers that she didn’t like, but she never regretted trying to find out. Contrary to popular belief, Curiosity never killed a cat. However, she did booby trap the scratch post with a piece of tuna as bait just to see what the cats would do.