30 Day Writing Challenge: Part Deux

I’m awake. I funneled the small child I’ve become responsible for to school. I drank coffee. Looked around on Reddit to avoid writing, but, alas, I’m here. I told myself I would do this. It’s day two. I can’t go soft now

It’s May the 4th back in The States. Maybe I can tie some Star Wars into this deal.

(If you wanna join along here’s the link: http://30daychallengearchive.tumblr.com/post/832610035/writing-prompt-30-day-challenge )

Here’s my day two writing prompt: Day 2 —Tell about a character who lost something important to him/her.

Photo on 5-5-17 at 11.56 AM

“And that will be one Variety 12 pack. Would you like anything else?” A voice buzzed through the neon glow of the menu sign at Taco Bell.

“What? Oh! No, man. I’m good.” Giggled the slouchy 20 year old. Marin was skinny, wore a Bob Marley shirt, and smelt strongly like the inside of every, “Nirvana” store. Marin was alone in the car. Marin was baked (Hence the 12 tacos). He was just on his way home from his drug dealer, George’s, house. Here’s the thing about George. He found a new hobby in adding LSD to his bags of weed without telling his clients. Ashton Kutcher wouldn’t approve of this type of, “Punk’d” but George found it hilarious. He liked to smoke with his clients before selling them this, “special” bag of green which he referred to as, “The Stanky Hyperdrive.” Which is both a terrible name and a bad idea to put anything starting with, “Stanky” into your body, but, hey, Marin was dumb and already high. At that point, Marin laughed at the name for about 5 minutes and bought it without hesitation.

Marin rolled into his driveway and glided into his house. With his box set of, “Star Wars” DVD’s strewn out, incense hot and smelling like every Indian restaurant burning away, his bowl packed with some, “Stanky Hyperdrive” he was about to learn how literal that name was and was about to find a whole new level of baked.

He inhaled deep as his nerves and anxiety melted away. Minutes felt like hours. The colors radiating off the TV fascinated him as they seemed to fly off the screen and engulf him. His living room faded away as if becoming a desolate cave. He felt cold as if he was in the cave on Hoth. Then he heard a growl. He couldn’t distinguish if it was a Wampa (Bigfoot looking monster from, “The Empire Strikes Back”) or his stomach. Either way he felt like his previous Taco Bell purchase was the answer. If it was his stomach, 12 tacos would cure it. If it was a Wampa, he could fasten the hard taco shells into a shiv and fight back. At least after that last, “hit” this all seemed perfectly logical.

He tried to hold his hands out like Luke Skywalker, and use the force to summon the Taco Bell over to him. The sad thing was, even if he could do that he couldn’t remember where he placed the food. Furthermore, also like Luke from Hoth he felt trapped. He closed his eyes and could feel himself hanging upside. He was in that very cave as Luke. He couldn’t move.  He heard the growl again, but his feet felt trapped and locked in. There was no escape.

He felt panic and extreme hunger as he couldn’t distinguish what the growl was. He felt the paranoia set in. Was it the munchies or a giant furry creature lurching from the depths of the cave? As hard as he tried he just couldn’t move. Finally, he looked up and saw it. It was his lightsaber! He reached and reached as his fingertips glossed over the hilt of his weapon, but he was unsuccessful. The growl grew louder and more dominate. He had to get away. He closed his eyes. He inhaled deep. The inhaled tasted very skunky as he exhaled smoke.

Then he felt like if he just focused he could get the lightsaber. He reached with all of his might, and watched as the lightsaber started shaking seemingly of its own accord. Then, as if by magic, the lightsaber launched and hovered into his hand. The growl bellowed as it was at it’s pinnacle of veracity. He didn’t hesitate as the lightsaber buzzed to life, he swung at whatever it was on his feet that was holding him down. He dropped to the ground with a loud, THUD!

He couldn’t move his feet but he was free!

He crawled away as he felt the hunger consume him. He needed his Taco Bell, but where was he?

All he knew was that he was becoming freezing. He needed that warmth. He crawled out of the cave until he saw a Tauntuan laying on it’s side. He was extremely hungry, but needed to warm up before the cold overtook his body. He made a decision then and there and he cut the Tauntuan’s stomach wide open. He was desperate to fight off the freezing conditions that had engulfed him seemingly from nowhere. He crawled deep inside the bowels of the creature as he felt the heat hug him. The heat seemed to not stop. It grew to burning temperatures as the light faded from his vision. He felt the heat and darkness consume him until there was nothing. Marin was dead.

After a week of Marin not answering his phone, his parents grew alarmed. They drove over to his house and banged on his door violently. No one answered. Finally, Marin’s father had enough and just kicked the door in. His parent surveyed the scene as his mother collapsed into her husband’s arms with tears cascading from her face. The picture of Marin’s death was as macabre as a Tim Burton wet dream.

It started with his foot laying close to the couch. Just his foot. Near proximity to it was a black plastic fork (A staple of every Taco Bell takeaway) dripping with blood. The blood made a trail all the way to the oven, where the rest of Marin resided. He was crammed in the oven completely charred black. What you could make of Marin’s face was staring through the window between the oven and the kitchen. You could see one dead eye staring through the window. And what was it staring at? Why the missing Taco Bell that had evaded him a week before.

Take this tale of Marin’s as a cautionary one. Never EVER lose your Taco Bell. Also, May The 4th be with you.

DISCLAIMER: This is hand’s down the stupidest thing I have ever wrote =p


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