You’re running. Running down a dark hall. You’re not sure how long you’ve been running, but at least you’re not being chased, you’re chasing. The wind whistles through your hair and you take in a deep, exhilarating breath through your nose. You can smell the scent of blood and you grin as you let the breath out of your mouth in gasps of laughter. You’ve reached runner’s high and not even the biting of cold metal where the gun in the back of your waistband digs into your flesh can keep your from enjoying it. Your laughter echoes off the wall and yes, this is what it was like to be free! Back before the Corporation, before the men came and told you not to worry, you had a gift and the Corporation was going to hone it! Back in the forest, where you ran like a wild thing, wind whistling through your hair and the smell of blood in your nostrils and the laughter in your throat and best of all, no gun at your back.
The woman ahead stumbles and falls and you mourn the loss of your runner’s high as you lope the last few steps and stop still, drawing your gun. “So, we gonna do this the easy way or the hard way?” you ask her, panting a little.
"Get stuffed, mutt!" She tosses her head back and sends a glob of phlegm towards your shoe.
You glance down at the bloody spittle a foot away from your feet and give her a look. “Really? You’re gonna to spit at me? Because that’s going to get you mercy.” With a jerk of your finger, the gun goes off in your hand, sending a gleaming, nigh-on imperceptible to the eye bullet over the woman’s shoulder with a bang. She jumps and shrieks and begins to sob. A chunk of her hair is on the floor. “That was a warning shot. Tell me where they’re hiding it.”
She looks up at you, a stinking pile of skin and bones trailing a wounded arm, and she glares. “Never!” she screams, and attempts to scramble to her feet to run away again. A quick shot over her other shoulder puts an end to that notion and she slumps to the floor again, resentful.
"Quit it with the heroics already, will ya? No one’s here to witness this, who’re you puttin’ on a show for?" Your gaze is incredulous. This woman is a joke. A dangerous joke with a lot of information, but hey, so’s your boss. "Look, this ends one of two ways. You tell me what I want to know or not. From there it gets complicated. If you refuse to tell me what I want to know, well then it looks like you’ve got yourself a one-way ticket to hell. If you tell me, though, well, I might just be merciful. There’s a hospital just up the road and I could dump you out front or somethin’. For your arm.”
Now she’s the one who looks incredulous. “Wait, you’d help me?”
"Well I’m not a fucking monster, am I?” you ask, gesturing with your free arm.
"You tell me."
"No," you say, "how about you tell me. Where did they fucking hide it?!?"
She takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Knight’s Palace, New York. It’s this big old manor house in the woods.” She looks at you, pleading with her eyes. “Now will you let me go?”
"Knight’s Palace. Hold up, babe, I gotta check with my boss." Leaving your gun trained on the woman, you pull out your cell phone and awkwardly dial it with your left hand. "Hey," you say when Galloway picks up, "so you ever heard of Knight’s Palace, New York?"
"We’re not on a secure connectio—"
"Yeah, yeah, I know just look it up to see if it’s a real place." You hear the sounds of typing in the background.
"It’s a real place. We’ll send a task force out there to retrieve the, uh, item. Good work.”
"No prob, Bob."
"Galloway," he corrects, voice icy.
"Whatever. See you." You hang up without waiting for an answer. You’re going to catch it for that lack of respect later, but you tasted freedom again tonight and you really couldn’t care less about Galloway’s precious ‘feelings.’
You turn back to the woman. “Well, looks like Knight’s Palace is a real place.”
She sniffs and scoffs at you. “Of course it’s a real place. Now are you gonna help me or not?”
You make a big show of thinking about it. “Mmmm, not.”
Her eyes widen. “Wait, what? You said you’d help me if I gave you the infor—”
"I said I might help you,” you cut her off, “but your attitude frankly sucks. Maybe think about that in your next life?” And then you pull the trigger and the bullet hits her straight in the forehead. “Ugh, gross! You got specks of blood on my shoes!” You really should have moved back further before you made the shot. You grab the hem of her shirt, jerking her body so if flops away from you, and wipe the blood off your shoes. Then you pull the five bucks out of the wallet in her back pocket before turning around and walking back out of the tunnel without another glance.
I’m hungry, you think. You flip the safety on your gun and shove it into the back of your waistband before starting to run. Let’s see, the Corporation will find me in about half an hour if I’m fast, maybe I’ll run to the nearest BK’s and grab a burger. Nah, Wendy’s is closer. But that’s the whole fucking point of this charade: run as far as you can without angering the Corporation and then use the corpse money to get some food. You reach the mouth of the tunnel and turn your feet towards Burger King. You hope the money isn’t too bloody…
I need to lay off the colours
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you got designer shades just to hide your face and you wear them around like you’re cooler than me and you never say hey or remember my name and its probably cause you think you’re cooler than me
Suicides go up when a famous person dies after losing their battle with mental illness. If you’re thinking of suicide, call 800-283-8255. (x)
If you haven’t already heard, Robin Williams has been found dead, and the authorities suspect he took his own life. Proving yet again that depression is a silent menace. Especially so in people whose lives might seem charmed from the outside.
In honor of him, and the lifetime of joy his work provided to countless people, here is a list of resources for people who may be contemplating self-harm or suicide.
If this might be you, please, please, please don’t. If you need help, ask. If you don’t, pass this or a similar list of resources along. You never know who may see it that needs it.
My ask box is always open.Depression Hotline: 1-630-482-9696
Suicide Hotline: 1-800-784-8433
Trevor Project: 1-866-488-7386
Sexuality Support: 1-800-246-7743
Eating Disorders Hotline: 1-847-831-3438
Rape and Sexual Assault: 1-800-656-4673
Grief Support: 1-650-321-5272
Runaway: 1-800-843-5200, 1-800-843-5678, 1-800-621-4000
Exhale: After Abortion Hotline/Pro-Voice: 1-866-4394253
Child Abuse: 1-800-422-4453
And chat resources for those who don’t feel comfortable speaking on telephones:
http://www.crisischat.org/ http://www.thetrevorproject.org/ http://www.veteranscrisisline.net/ChatTermsOfService.aspx http://www.didihirsch.org/chat
Note to followers, friends, and myself.
Just never forget. People are out there to help you. As much as I want to be that person…I know I can’t always be there.
But there are plenty of resources there just for you.
your feet upon the ground | for days when it’s difficult to get out of bed, get dressed, take the next step and the next step and the next step; for walking, for moving forward, for keeping your head above water, for the next step. and the next step. and the next. [listen]01. carry on - fun. 02. i wanna get better - bleachers 03. under the tide - chvrches 04. waste - foster the people 05. be calm - fun. 06. all those friendly people - funeral suits 07. on top of the world - imagine dragons 08. better man - the j band 09. bulletproof - la roux 10. synthetica - metric 11. fantasy - ms mr 12. be okay - oh honey 13. this too shall pass - ok go 14. something good can work - two door cinema club 15. level up - vienna teng 16. run boy run - woodkid
"Comedy is acting out optimism."
- Robin Williams (July 21, 1951 - August 11, 2014)
RIP Robin Williams, thanks for the laughs and comfort when I really needed it. Your amazing legacy in film and comedy will live on forever as long as people can laugh. My heart, thoughts and prayers go out to the Williams family and anyone else who needs a little support.