Static. Part two. (580 hits)
Category: Quotes & StoriesRating: 1.57 on 7 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Barnymeinhoff <barnymeinhoff.at.gmail.com> (View user info) at 2005-08-26 07:58:18 EDT
http://www.ubersite.com/m/73913
Part two, Raft Of The Madusa
The acrid smell of piss hit my nose, I opened my eyes and stared up at the green canopy of the trees above me.
Slowly the sounds of the river began to reach me and I remembered what had happened.
He had been there, The laughing sailor, the one from my dreams of the winter before.
I have never been so ill as I was that November. sweating, vomiting and waking nightmares so terrifying I thought I would die from fright.
For the two weeks I was ill I had the same re occurring dream, That I was on the Raft of the Madusa.
It had been my fathers favorite painting, In one of the many art books around the commune there was a large colour plate. At the age of six he had sat me down and explained the history of the painting to me. How the sailors had been cut adrift, the suicide and murder and finally the cannibalism. I cried all through the night and my mother did not speak to my father for three days. However, It wasn't until the winter of eighty four that I started to have the nightmares.
It would always be the same, First I would smell the salt in the air then feel the spray of the sea on my face, Slowly the sounds of screaming and the crashing waves would grow louder and then I would open my eyes and see the chaos that surrounded me on the raft. The living holding on for dear life surrounded by the dead, Those who were still strong enough desperately signalling to the horizon in the hope of salvation that would never come.
Then I would hear the laughter.
From dream to dream my perspective would change, sometimes I was in the water holding on to the edge of the raft, Other times I would be clinging on to a barrel trying to stand without stepping on the dead sailors who lay across the bed of the raft.
The laughing sailor was always in the same place, halfway up the mast with his legs hanging over the sail.
I seemed to be invisible to everyone on the raft except the laughing sailor. He would look straight at me grinning and giggling as he raised the remains of an arm to his face and bit into the raw flesh. Then as the blood ran from his lips he would survey the scene on the raft below him and smile.
I would usually wake at this point and almost every time, Just like today I would have wet myself.
I sat up with a start, and looked at the base of the tree, there was no one there. Of course there was no one there, I had imagined the whole thing. I turned to leave and found myself face to face with Ian Jenkins.
Ian was one of the town kids.
Ian was the worst of the town kids.
Ian was about fifteen. I had first met him when I started at the local primary school where he had made a point of spitting in my packed lunch, or shit hippy food as he had put it.
The other kids had loved that, They had howled and laughed as he stood over me until I had finished eating everything from my tin. One of the happiest days of my life had been when Ian Jenkins had moved up to bigger school and my daily lunch became relatively spit free.
Ian stood there before me, He didn't say anything but grinned as he pointed towards my crotch.
"Pissed yerself commie?"
I tried to push past him but he grabbed me and threw me to the ground.
"I asked you a fucking question!" he snarled. "What you doing out here anyway? Come looking for your dead friend?"
I could feel my face flushing red as I tried to get to my feet but he grabbed me again and shoved me back to the floor where I hit my elbow on a rock. Pain flared through my arm and my eyes welled with tears. I tried to crawl away back towards the river but he circled round and cut me off.
Just for a second something behind him caught my eye, a flash of white then it was gone.
I started to get to my feet and again he came towards me but this time I was ready and lunged forwards pushing him back. He teetered on the edge of the bank before falling into the river with a loud and satisfying splash.
I got to my feet and walked to the edge of the bank holding my elbow. Ian was thrashing about in the water shouting obcenities and threatening to kill me. My initial adrenalin rush had left me and I stood rooted to the ground in anticipation of the beating I was about to receive.
Ian stood up in the water which came level with his waist. He opened his mouth as if to say something and then stopped and looked down to his feet. He just had time to look up again before he was suddenly jerked off his feet and back into the water.
After a second he broke the surface again and started to scream.
Something was pulling him back through the water towards the base of the tree, all the while he screeched and spluttered. His eyes were as wide as diner plates and his face was deathly white as he slipped back under the water only to re surface behind the roots.
The grinning face of the sailor came up behind Ian, his arms sneaking round his chest in a deathly grip, His lips curled back in a smile before his face plunged towards Ians shoulder and he bit down.
If Ian was screaming before he was now squeeling and thrashing like a stuck pig as the sailors red and bloody face kept darting back for a new mouthfull. After about five minuets his struggle began to loose some of its urgency and by now there was nothing left to scream with, eventually he bled out and was still. Even so the sailor continued to eat and I continued to watch untill he released his grip and Ians body slipped below the waters dark surface.
He lowered his face into the water to rinse off some of the blood before turning to me and smiling.
"Its you and me against the world Andrew, Survival of the fittest."
"Who are you and how do you know my name?"
"You and me, were old shipmates Andrew but there's a lot of hungry men on this raft and we need to keep our strength up or they might eat us."
I didn't understand what the sailor was saying but I wasn't afraid, I should have been running and screaming home but I just stood there as he ducked out from under the tree and started to float towards the bank.
He told me his name was Charles and that he had been lost at sea but now he had found me we were going to be good friends, the more we spoke the safer I felt. Charles reached up from the water and I took his hand, As I helped him from the water I remember thinking how light he seemed.
Hand in hand we walked back towards the farm, hand in hand with my new best friend.
End of part two.
Raft_of_the_Medusa_-_Theodore_G (689 kB) [application/x-macbinary]
User Reviews
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2005-09-02 15:05:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
cool
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2005-08-26 14:35:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Excellent work
Submitted by stardamage (user info) at 2005-08-26 09:06:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
I THOUGHT that was the painting you were talking about!
This was pretty damn cool.
Submitted by ajanssen (user info) at 2005-08-26 08:59:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Much better than the other garbage you have been churning out.
Submitted by badassmofo (user info) at 2005-08-26 08:07:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Good story and improved spelling although 'dinner' is the meal you eat and 'diner' is the place you eat it.
Submitted by Average_Dan (user info) at 2005-08-26 08:02:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2005-08-26 08:01:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
nice attachment.