So I've finally gotten around to updating this. I just finished it and it's rough, I know, but it's the best I could do. Jake cried until he couldn't cry anymore, then wiped his face and got up. Was it really worth crying over if he couldn't change anything? At least he had a purpose. He had a purpose and he would take as long as he wanted to fulfill that purpose. Now motivated, he walked around, trying to find a phone book he could look through without too many people seeing the pages turning. He searched, and searched, until he finally found one on the far side of town. It was inconspicuously placed, in a phone booth. He glanced at his surroundings, then moseyed into the booth. He was on the darker side of town, with less streetlights. If I remember correctly, Jake thought, someone was shot and killed near here recently.... He knew it was unreasonable, him already being dead and all, but he was afraid. This wasn't a safe neighborhood. What if something happens? What if someone else gets shot? What if, what if, what if.... Possibility after possibility ran through his head as he struggled to stay calm. Just breathe. Keep your head, he thought. In, out. Calm. Relax. Gradually, he calmed down. He stepped up to to phone booth, and began to look for her last name, Johanson, until he heard a creaking sound, and looked up. He saw a door slowly opening, and someone his age, no older than 17, creeping through the door. Jake listened closely, and heard screaming in the background, and things breaking. He watched the child, a girl from what he could see, slink down the driveway into a waiting car--which he had just noticed. The engine of the car revved before it began driving away. It brought the people in the place the girl had come out of to the door. A man and a woman filled the doorway. The man looked around and yelled "That bitch!!" He then drew a gun and fired. Jake saw the car swerve, then crash into a telephone pole. He watched, horrified, as the pole fell over onto the car, and saw the man and woman walk back into their house calmly, as if they had done no wrong. Jake had been calm, but now? No. This? This was some deep shit.
thanks!! Update time! And this one...I don't think the end (especially) is nearly as rough. Well...maybe just a lil. Indescribable things are hard to write about. anyhoot I tried. Hope you like it. Btw I just realized that Jake is scatterbrained. go figure. I should really map out my characters before I write about them but...Eh. that's no fun. He wasn't sure what to do. A pole had just fallen on them. A freaking POLE. What could he do to help? Lift the pole? It was, like, 70 awkward pounds of wood. He couldn't lift that unless he was Superman. And no matter how much he wished for that, he wasn't Superman, nor would he ever be. Lost in thoughts of Superman and poles, Jake barely noticed a figure climbing out of the drivers door--until he hit the horn. Accidentally or not, it caught his attention. He watched, concerned, as the figure climbed took off down the street. He knew he should've been thinking about how the man had left the girl sitting in the passengers seat, but the first thing he thought was 'Dayyyummm, He's bookin it!'. The figure, which he was assuming was male, ran on and on, until he turned a corner and couldn't be seen anymore. Jake gaze lingered at the spot where the figure had disappeared a moment longer, then went back to the car. Is the girl okay? Is she stuck? Does she need help? Worried and, once again, panicked, he ran--well, floated-ran--to the car. He didn't know what he could do, but he needed to see if there was something he could do. He reached the car and stretched out his arm to open the door, and happened to glance up; a pure stroke of luck, he looked up momentarily and saw something...floating. Floating upwards. It was like a mist, graceful and elegant. It was almost the color of the air surrounding it, just a tint lighter. Jake watched, mesmerized, as the mist drifted upward. It was beautiful. He had never seen anything that looked so pure, so wonderful. He couldn't take his eyes off of it as it rose slowly, until it went above the clouds and was out of sight. He wasn't sure how long he stood beside the wreck, looking at the last spot he had seen the mist at, but, finally, he came back to his senses and looked back at the car, then through the car door. The pole had fallen onto the middle of the car, crushing that and severely denting the roof on both sides. He saw the girl, but...her face was covered in lacerations. She was almost indistinguishable. Her arms and legs were covered in cuts and her seat was being stained by blood. The top of her head had been smashed by the car crushed car roof. He watched for the telltale rise and fall of her chest, to hear her breaths, for her eyes to flutter open, for her to moan, for her to give a sign of life. But they didn't. She didn't. She lay there silently, still. He was just looking at a shell, a body. He thought back to the mist, the beauty of it, its wonderful sight. He remembered when he had first seen it, a bit after the pole had fallen. After the car was crushed. About...just about the time that the girl died. The time when her soul would have been moving on. Her soul. According to books, souls are beautiful things. A most wonderful sight. He compared the mist to his preconceived notion of souls, then froze. He didn't breathe, moved nary a muscle, Souls were beautiful. Mostly indistinguishable. Indescribable, really. Exactly like the mist he had seen. He realized that it couldn't have just been random mist that he had seen. No, that beautiful, indescribable mist had to have been something else. Her soul.