He's There

[mungojerrie]

this is a dream i had a few years ago. it was the most amazing dream i ever had. i knew i had to write it down, but i'm not a writer, so it took me a long time. i know it is probably not up to par with most of the other posts, but i just had to share it. i hope the feelings i felt come through. anyway here it is.

slowly you open your eyes and realize you are really here. on this god forsaken ship with these god forsaken people. the person next to you coughs in your face so you turn away as far as the chains and shackles will allow. although there have been several drops over the last few days, the deck is still lined with people who are either sick or in various stages of shock.

you very well may be in shock as well, but if so it has clarified things for you. you are able to look around with a sense of detachment at this hell you have ended up in.the ship is huge and old. the wood at your side smells of salt and the floor is covered in a film of blood, sweat, urine, and god knows what else. you can hear the cries of seagulls overhead, waiting for their next meal. they shouldn't have to wait long.

underneath the sound of the gulls is a low moaning. if you listen closely you realize it is actually a collective moan of the poor souls that surround you. their lack of hope is evident in their volume. screaming is useless.they are going to die and they know it. you are one of them.

as the ship gently rocks you see them coming. the monsters. these are the ones who will put an end to all of this. they are not human, so to you they are just monsters. they do their job well, but they do it slowly, as if they know that speed would be a blessing. they will take you just as slowly if you thrash and scream. the only thing left to pray for is to be chosen for the next drop. and, please god if you still exist, let you be on the bottom row. let the hateful gulls peck on someone else's eyes.

you begin the mantra, please take me, please take me, please...

and then you look across from you and see a boy. a ragged, dirty little boy of about five. he's not the only child on the ship, nor is he the youngest, but for some reason he stands out to you. then it dawns on you, he's not crieing. he's just standing there in the midst of all the horror and fear with his eyes wide open. but he's not there, not really. this childs' mind is gone. he is nothing more than a shell waiting to die. his soul is already gone or dead. your mouth runs dry and your heart aches at the sight of his vacant eyes. so you begin with the prayer, but for him. please, oh please, let it be over for him. i can wait, if i must.

as the monster come towards you they begin taking people, and at least they reach the boy. there really must be a god up there somewhere because they do take the boy. of course they pass you by but it's ok. at least the boy, the empty little boy, can be free of all of this. his hollow brain will allow him to feel no pain and his soul can finally be free of its shell. this gives you a small piece of comfort. and in this level of hell you take what you can get.

you watch as they unchain his hands and feet to take him away to the traps. these traps are large sections of chainlink fence with more shackles and chains. people are chained to the fence by laying down. there are four rows of people, one row over the other. once everyone is secured a large crane lift the trap and hangs it over the side of the ship. now the chained people are upright and hanging from their wrists.

the boy is put on the top row. that's okay, he doesn't know what is going on. he will not suffer. the others on the trap cry and beg, scream and sob. everyone dies in their own way.the boy is still silent.

the trap is moved out over the water and slowly begins to lower. nearly all of the monsters have gathered to watch.

you never take your eyes off of the boy, wanting to bear witness. it seems horribly wrong for him to die without anyone to grieve for him. the first row of people is now under water, shouldn't be much longer before the boy is gone. and then he looks at you. his eyes stare into yours and you see that he's there. he's there and he will feel this death. he's there and he knows what is happening. he's there and there's nothing you can do.

you begin to shake as you see that the water is nearly at the boys feet. his eyes never leave yours, as though he knows how you prayed for him. through your tears you watch as the water rises, now at his dirty and scabbed knees. his eyes hold you and you know that you have to watch. your heart wants to turn away, but your soul knows better. his eyes are killing you with their awareness, but you couldn't look away if you tried.

he still doesnt' cry, or scream, or even seem to be afraid. the water reaches his chest and now you have to fight to breath through the sobs that wrack your body.

even as you scream at the unfairness and cruelty of a god who would allow him to wake up at this moment of all moments his eyes never leave yours. as the water laps at his chin, a single tear falls from his eye and his beautiful face breaks your heart as he smiles at you. he's there and you have to see. you have to see that in this boy, this child, is hope.

[Dave!]

Hmm. A dream? Very vivid account of it. In the dream are you the one referred to as "you" in the story? (I'm sure that a hundred dream analysts and interpreters would love to examine this one).
I knoiw nothing about your age or writing history at all, but you must be a fan of good writing and fiction, as you are a memeber here. I can say it is a good start. Maybe you can take the dream and build on either a precursor to what happens here, or what comes after.
The really cool thing is that you can go either way. What you have could make an interesting beginning, with some descriptive flashbacks or history as to how all the people got on the ship to begin with. Or it could make a cliffhanger ending. If you go onward and do some installments on this, you will see weaknesses in it the further you go. I feel that way about mine. I am bad about the fingers flying across the keys and making all types of typos. And I saw many refinements in what I SHOULD have typed.
I say go with it. Let it flow out and onto the keyboard. But think about your direction. Where do you want to expand and grow the story line? How in depth are the characters going to be? Who is going to be a protagonist? And personally I think it would bode well to make the "you" in the story a character, instead of a personalized individual. Might make it a lot easier for you to expand, and keep the reader wanting more. Or maybe you could actually keep it the way it is. I haven't read a story yet where it puts the reader in the shoes of one of the individuals in the book. Might be interesting. I'm working on a first person story now, and can tell you that it is harder than just naming a character and going with an third person point of view.
So to sum it up, here is a good cornerstone of something that could prove very captivating. Go with it and try it. Ya got nothing to lose, and it may prove to be, if nothing else, a good outlet for some creative juices.
(keep in mind this is all coming from a non-expert in the field)

[mungojerrie]

wow, i'm a little shocked at what you had to say. the most i expected was something like "not sure what you were trying at here, but whatever". thank you very much, i can't tell you what it means to me. and yes, it really was a dream. and my description pales in camparison to what was in my head. i just don't have the skill or vocabulary. and yes, i am the "you". i tried many times to write it through different points of view and this was the only one that wanted to talk. this was a very personal and private thing for me and i struggled with it for a long time. so thank you again, no matter how critical others may be of it after this, i can take it in stride. i know i'm an amatuer of the lowest order, so let the insults or praise fall where they may.

[Dave!]

Well, hey, I certainly want to read more. So if you feel like, or can, build on it then I'll check it out. Sometimes the slightest inspiration can be the spark of a great story. A dream was what started Diablo for me. I dreamt of the church scene and built from there. As far as the skill, a lot of people would say it is something you are born with or not. Some say it is a learned and constantly refined art form. I tend to believe that it lies somewhere between the two. Yes, a little rough around the edges, but usually the first drafts are. God knows mine is. From what you have, and the descriptive nature of how it reads I would say that you have the ability to write much more, and refine your talent and verbage as you go.
As far as the term "amateur of the lowest order" goes, well, I fall into the same category. Most of us on here that write, as I think only a select few, if maybe only one, is a published author. (I don't know if Blake is on here or not, but he is great. If there are more published people, I am sorry. He's the only one I knew of) So if that is one of the things that seem intimidating, then I feel like you should dismiss it. The good thing about this forum is that you are free to put whatever you want on here, even if you think it is sub-par, worthy of wrapping fish in, or whatever. It is, to a certain extent, anonymous. You never know, if you decided to start on a story line, it may grow to several hundred pages before you sit back and think "wow! Where did this come from!?" So, whichever way you go, rest assured that I feel that you would be short-changing the possibilities of what you might be capable of if you stop writing altogether.
This does not read like "The brown cow jumped over the fence. And he was happy. There was grass, and he ate it a lot. The end." It has potential, in my opinion. I'm sure that confidence and bravado were not in abundance with any author or storyteller during their first attempts. I was apprehensive the entire time I wrote the first story, Evolution. I wrote, read it, and thought at times that it was good. Most of the time I thought it would never be good enough, or ever be completed. But be what it may, it is done, and I am sure that it will undergo at least one more complete re-write before it is ever good enough to publish. So to get off of my soapbox now, I once again say go for it, if that is what your heart tells you. Criticism and praise come with it. Don't be too shy to at least try.

[Jean]

mungojerrie: before I add your entry to the Index, maybe you would like to give your story a name?

[mungojerrie]

how about...hope? or the ship? oh, i don't know. He's There. that'll do.
can you tell i've never done this before?