"Sugar" (w/ NSFW image) (1833 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: Fiction
Rating: 1.54 on 31 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by kaos-king (antius777) (View user info) at 2007-02-18 22:32:35 EST
Kristin stood by the patio window and watched the rain come pouring down outside, doing her best to forget the mayhem that was building a few feet behind her. Phil had his crew of friends over again and they were taking the concept of alcohol abuse to a new level. HALO 2 was on four player and cheap beer cans littered whatever space wasn't occupied by a lounging body in the small apartment living room. The sounds of popping aluminum, digital gunfire and intoxicated insults almost couldn't reach her in the kitchen.
Almost.
"Hey, babe," said Phil coming up behind her, "can you make a quick run for us?"
One hand found the curve of her ass while the other dangled a limp, folded bill in front of her. Without a word she took it from his hand and twisted out of his grasp. Too drunk to perceive her coldness, or perhaps too drunk to care, he stumbled back into the living room calling back "Natty Ice!" to her. Kristin slipped on her sandals, grabbed her umbrella and left through the patio door.
The convenient store was just at the end of the block and Kristin tried to take her time getting there. If anything, it would give the idiots a little more time without their precious beer. Most of all, it gave her some escape. She thought four months ago that moving out of her mom's and into the apartment with Phil would be wonderful. Sure, they had only been dating for a few months prior that, but he seemed liked a really good guy. He wasn't controlling, he never hit her and he had called her beautiful.
And Phil wasn't a bad guy, thought Kristen. He was just... immature. He would rather spend time getting drunk and playing video games than do anything with her. She wouldn't have minded at all if it had been once and while, but it was every single night. Hell, he saw those guys all day at the machine shop.
Phil had been living on his own for about a year already. He made enough at the shop, all his buddies did. Kristin barely made enough to pay her share working the few hours they gave her at the florists. Things were getting bad, getting to the point that she would move out if she could, but she had no where to go. What, back to her mom? Another raging alcoholic with a string of men who had taken to eying her a little too closely in the last number of years. Nope.
The glass door to the store dinged open and Kristen turned to fold up her umbrella while shaking off all the residual water. She ran a hand through her damp pale blond hair and let it fall back behind her tank top. Rubbing her wet sandaled feet on the front carpet, she fastened the umbrella up then headed in.
There weren't many people in the store; two kids perusing the candy aisle, a woman at the lunch meat counter and a very tall man glancing through a newspaper. She did a double take on the tall man. He was of African decent, very dark skinned, in what looked to be an expensive tan suit coat and slacks. Delicate rectangular glasses were perched on the end of his hooked nose and he peered at her intently as she passed by.
Embarrassed that she had been starring, she looked away. He was obviously lost; he appeared to have some wealth and people of his standing didn't usually end up in this part of town. At least not to be gawked at by skinny white girls. Kristen shuffled up to the main counter, relieved to see a familiar face.
"Hey, Marcus."
"Evening, Kris. Lemme guess, Phil and the boys are thirsty again?"
Kristen grimaced and produced the bill. "Natty Ice," she said.
Marcus's eyes quickly went to his co-worker fully engaged with the older woman and her chipped ham, then nodded. Kristen was only twenty, but all the workers at the local store knew she was getting the beer for Phil. The day that she didn't show up for his booze, they might actually worry. Marcus bagged up the case of Natural Ice in plastic then rang her out.
She was strolling back out and about to say her goodbyes when Kristen realized the tall black man was standing right in front of her, his newspaper discarded. She fumbled with the beer and her umbrella for a second, then was almost paralyzed with the fear that he was the police. A hundred thoughts ran through her head about the kind of trouble she could be in for buying beer underage as he began to open his mouth. But then he simply said one word, one word that shook her even more than if he had said "You're under arrest."
He looked right at her and said, "Sugar."
Kristen stood absolutely still, her brain shutting down. Somewhere in the distance, she heard Marcus say something. Sugar. There was a commotion and Kristen was vaguely aware that the man was gone and Marcus was beside her. She knew she was still in the store, clutching both the beer and her umbrella, but she couldn't bring herself to move, to really comprehend the thing that she had just heard. Sugar.
"Kristen? Kristen! Are you all right? What did that fucking creep say to you? Do you want me to call the police or get Phil down here because..."
"No..." said Kristen, shaking herself back to normal. "No, I'm fine. He just startled me."
Marcus looked at her, eyebrow raised. "Are you sure? I'll have Matt watch the place if you want me to walk you back up the street."
"Nonono... I'll be fine. That was just, just weird. Thanks Marcus."
With that, Kristen was out the door with her umbrella up before Marcus could protest anymore. A few feet away from the store, she looked around anxiously for the man, but saw nothing. There was no one about, just a few cars the next street over.
She started back in a daze, her mind trying to correlate what had just happened. Sugar. It wasn't the word in itself, it was the way he had said it. He had CALLED her "Sugar." And no one had done that in almost five years. Back then, there had been one person who called her that, named her that in secret, a secret she had never told anyone.
A secret she had never told anyone and that Rebecca had taken to her grave.
All Kristen could conceive was that she had heard wrong. That, or that the man was foreign, and had said some word in another language that sounded remarkably the same. There could be no other answer. How else would a middle aged black man know a key clue to the most intimate secret she had ever kept?
By the time the patio door came back into view, she sighed. Kristen almost had to laugh at the thought at being thrilled to return to a world of boys, beer and booms. She shook out the umbrella, folded it up and was sliding the door open when one of Phil's friends went flying through the kitchen and landed face first into the kitchen table, shattering it.
Kristen screamed and turned to run, smacking face first into a gigantic man with long blond hair. Receding in terror, the man reached out to Kristen and gripped her shoulders tightly. He examined her for a moment, then said, "You must go inside."
He tilted his head, and almost as an afterthought, added "Please?"
Trembling, Kristen stepped into her apartment to see a petite redheaded woman standing over the limp form of Phil's friend Jay passed out among the remains of the kitchen table.
"I believe that was an over-reaction," mumbled the woman to herself as the huge blond man led Kristen into the living room.
The room was in shambles and an enraged looking arabic man had Phil pinned by the throat with one hand up against the wall in the air. Kristen sobbed and the Arabian glanced over. With a scowl he dropped Phil in a heap. Phil's other two friends were curled up in the far corner, frightened beyond belief. A young man with a thick black goatee lounged on the couch and smoked a cheroot cigar.
"See, my friend! I told you our Jamil would find her," the man on the couch said between puffs in a deep Spanish accent.
The Arabian stormed up to Kristen, his face a mask of anger. He leaned in so close she could hear his teeth grinding. As if struggling to contain himself he whispered, "Are you her?"
"Who?" Kristen managed to squeak out.
The Arab's eye's blazed with a white light and for a moment his face took a tranquil look. In that moment he uttered one word;
"Sugar."
Tears erupted down Kristen's face. "How do you know that name?" she sobbed.
"Enough!" came a voice from behind them.
They all turned to see the tall man from the store walk into the living room with the most beautiful woman Kristen had ever laid eyes on. The woman gracefully floated over to the arabic man and whispered in his ear, his trembling rage seeming to evaporate. The tall man surveyed the room, shaking his head, distinctly muttering something in a language other than English.
"Now my brother, don't look at me!" exclaimed the man on the couch.
"Forgive me, child," said the tall man coming forward, "we are still so awkward at these things. All of this was to have progressed differently."
"Who... who are you?" whispered Kristen as she swayed on her feet.
"Bram, Garteze... Help the young one to sit."
"No, no... just tell me who the fuck you people are and why..."
"We are the High Seiraphim, the Unwritten Kings and Queens of the Divine," stated the tall man. "You may call me 'Jamil.' This is Bram and Garteze. Khonshu, Natalia and in the other room, Dawn."
"Wait... what?"
"We are what you would call, Ultra-Archangels. Beyond such petty concepts as 'good' and 'evil,' we strive to keep balance in..."
Kristen started to fall over.
"Oh my. Someone please..."
The giant, Bram, used his powerful arms to catch the girl as she fainted. Carefully lowering her to the floor, Natalia came over and ran a finger delicately across Kristen's cheekbone. Within moments, the twenty-year old was coming to.
"Wha, what happened?"
"Greetings. I think you call it passing out," said Jamil.
Natalia and Bram helped Kristen back to her feet. "Okay... let's say for a second I believe you freaks really are, eh... yeah. Anyhow, what the hell do you want with me?"
"Us? Nothing at all, my dear. We merely are the active arm of a greater force. No, you are sought after by The Pre-Eminence."
Kristen stared at Jamil.
"Yes, well then... follow me please."
Walking out of the living room with the "Ultra-Archangels," Kristen heard a little gulp and looked down to see Phil curled up in the fetal position, his eyes held on her. A weak "Babe?" came from his direction, and she just shook her head, leaving him in the wreckage with his friends. They past the redheaded Dawn who had dragged Jay out from the table and had administered a few kind words towards his health. However, when he saw Khonshu coming, he ran screaming out the door. Dawn shrugged and joined the rest of them as they proceeded out onto the patio.
Cramped together under the small patio's overhang, Jamil stepped out into the rain. Each droplet stopped and spilt off a half inch away from his exterior, like there was an invisible shield surrounding him. Kristen's eyes went wide, but went even wider when Jamil opened his outreached hand to produce a floating image.
"Everything must be kept in balance, everything with an equal and defined opposition. This has been the Truth since long before your lower deities came to rest here and built this reality. Aspects of this Truth exist in everything, everywhere, everywhen, all at once. It is Eternity, the Sea of Quidditty, Numena, the Meta-Cosim. It is the Equation that equals Infinity and occasionally it chooses to be something... simpler."
"Stop," said Kristen, closing her eyes. "This is... it hurts..."
"I know, and I'm sorry," said Jamil sadly before he continued. "When the Algorithm of Truth chooses to shed its Alpha and Omega, it often takes place in the Proto-Divine, allowing itself a period of self-actualization. This last time it did not. It chose to break itself down to most base of constructs in the Doctrine."
"Please... I can't..." whispered Kristen.
Jamil ignored her. "Hence, the foundation of infinity came to this young reality and was birthed into matter, formed with a soul and lived as an flesh organism. And during that most briefest of periods, it came to have one thing it held dear in its human life; you."
Kristen fell to her knees weeping, trying to keep the voice of Jamil out, the voice that was now being telepathically as well as vocally communicated to her.
"You grew up together as children, right next door to each other. You shared the pains of youth and adolescence. Her parents absent and yours abusive. Eventually, you found yourselves more than best friends, you found something you thought forbidden. A love that you held deep within you but couldn't speak, one that she openly ached for. In your fear and doubt, you cast her aside and then shortly thereafter she was lost to you forever; dead in a car wreck."
"Yes..." sobbed Kristen.
"And in those secret times, you called her 'Sweetness' and she called you..."
"Sugar."
The voice came softly from out in the rain, almost from the rain itself. The word was warm and it weaved its way over to Kristen, holding her there on the wet patio. It wrapped its syllables and vowels around her like arms and comforted her, hugging onto her. Kristen let out a heaving sob of regret and longing. No one have had ever made her feel the way Rebecca had. The last five years had been spent looking for her replacement and trying to deny her sorrow.
And now to know this...
"Sugar," the voice came again.
Kristen's head came up off her chin, the rain spilling down her pale blond hair. In the darkness before her, she watched as the drops slowed and steadied, building into form. She watched the water grow full and take shape, take color. She felt the presence of those behind her take to their knees before that which was coming.
She watched as the rain poured Rebecca back to life.
Her oldest and dearest friend, the first person she had kissed and made love to, the person she had rejected and thought lost forever, the only individual she had ever truly loved... Rebecca walked through the rain naked towards her, not as a teenager, but appearing as she would had the car accident never happened. Her curves now full, her black hair long and thick, her eyes a more brilliant blue. Her "Sweetness."
All Kristen could do was stare at Rebecca and cry.
The naked young woman sat without shame in the soaking grass beside Kristen and took her hands.
"Hi," she said with a small smile.
"I'm so sorry!" Kristen said over and over again.
"It's okay, I understand now," Rebecca replied looking over at Jamil and winking. "Trust me."
"I missed you," said Kristen.
"I missed you, too. That's why I'm here."
"You've come back then? You... you're gonna stay?" asked Kristen.
Rebecca smiled sadly. "I can't Sugar, no."
"No! I can't loose you again... not like this!"
"You don't have to. Come with me," said Rebecca.
Kristen gasped. "With you! Where?"
Rebecca leaned in and kissed Kristen lightly on the lips then whispered, "Everywhere."
User Reviews
Submitted by sideshow (user info) at 2007-03-06 15:20:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Fucking amazing piece of writing. Incredible.
Submitted by Bob_Dole (user info) at 2007-02-19 20:14:48 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
It's gonna take me a minute to adsorb all that... I'll let the +2 stand in place of review and praise.
Submitted by Ballare (user info) at 2007-02-19 16:19:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
"They past the redheaded Dawn who had dragged Jay out from the table and had administered a few kind words towards his health."
PasSED. PasSED.
Submitted by coley (user info) at 2007-02-19 14:11:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Thanks for visiting some of my stuff. :)
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-19 14:11:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Snare (user info) at 2007-02-19 01:54:05 (#)
Ranking: 2
Now that's the kind of thing that uberites should be pushing up most heated.
instead of GHEY MENS lists....
That is, if they really want this site to regain past glories..
--
Agreed.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2007-02-19 13:34:46 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
The great thing about this post is that it makes the same amount of sense whether you read it top to bottom, or bottom to top. Try it, you'll see what I mean.
Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2007-02-19 12:51:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Comment
Submitted by rob_berg (user info) at 2007-02-19 12:44:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
"But for her to basically tell me that I'm a "Failure" at what I do is not only insulting but, as far as I'm concerned, ultimately invalid."
---
Dude - you are showing your hand.
I think yer great - and I rather enjoy this 'Lisa' moniker as well. Certainly the two of you trading barbs back and forth is a guilty pleasure for more than a few of us voyeuristic assholes following along your little e-soap opera you have going on over here...
But let just chuck out a little desktop psychology - If her opinion is 'invalid' then there is no way it can be insulting.
Think about it.
No no... not 'it'... what I just said.
perv.
Submitted by I_love_Kracka (user info) at 2007-02-19 10:53:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2007-02-19 07:48:38 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2007-02-19 06:58:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by ICO (user info) at 2007-02-19 05:12:31 (#)
Ranking: 0
That last comment from you seethes with arrogance, KK. Worth reading, perhaps, but nothing more. Writing is subjective, so saying you write good because a couple of people in the bizz seem to like your work is awful.
--------------------------------------------------
Arrogance? Perhaps. But I'm not going to sit here and let some miserable internet creature drag me down with her. I'm proud of my body of work and so are other people, not just close friends and family. LIsa doesn't care for my style, doesn't like the genre I write in - fine. But for her to basically tell me that I'm a "Failure" at what I do is not only insulting but, as far as I'm concerned, ultimately invalid.
Submitted by ICO (user info) at 2007-02-19 05:12:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
That last comment from you seethes with arrogance, KK. Worth reading, perhaps, but nothing more. Writing is subjective, so saying you write good because a couple of people in the bizz seem to like your work is awful.
Submitted by rorrim (user info) at 2007-02-19 04:58:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
a comment
Submitted by Lisa (user info) at 2007-02-19 04:25:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
"This has never been about me, you stupid bitch. It's always been about you, about how miserable you are."
It's really just about your writing, and how I don't like it. It's not a complicated psychological issue.
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2007-02-19 03:57:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
You know Lisa,
I could give you a list of names, of PROFESSIONAL authors I'm in contact with who have applauded my work, given me both recommendations to other sites to work for and linked me up with bigger & better organizations, but...
It doesn't really matter.
Like you said; this is Ubersite. And just as there are a group of people that find my work somehow appealing, there are a number of individuals who somehow find your existence to be less than a stain on humanity. Really, it all comes down to this - what exactly are YOU doing with your life, Lisa? You come here and display yourself as a bitter, vapid cunt who hates everything... but why? I'm deleriously happy with where I'm at right now. Can you say the same? Can you say you're doing what you love and you're going to get paid for it, that what you created is about to reach a larger audience and you'll be able to say you contributed in some small way?
This has never been about me, you stupid bitch. It's always been about you, about how miserable you are.
The few people on Uber that give me +2's give them to me for what I DO. For what I can create.
You simply gather your +2's because of what you look like & how loud you can screech. Congratulations...
Submitted by Lisa (user info) at 2007-02-19 03:07:48 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Your "work" is so full of cliches, awkward phrasing, and glaring spelling errors that I have to concentrate on getting all the way through it without punching the monitor. Normally I have to stop somewhere in the middle.
The fact that you have a group of followers who praise you every time you write a shitty story baffles me sometimes, but then I remember that this is Ubersite, a haven for other lonely psychos who get off on torture and anything remotely related to naked women.
I honestly feel bad for you if this is what you think you're best at. Maybe you should stick to drawing.
Submitted by Zebra (user info) at 2007-02-19 02:49:47 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by Phallic_Cymbals (user info) at 2007-02-19 02:21:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by Snare (user info) at 2007-02-19 01:54:05 (#)
Ranking: 2
Now that's the kind of thing that uberites should be pushing up most heated.
instead of GHEY MENS lists....
That is, if they really want this site to regain past glories..
_____
Hahaha Uber was never good. When was uber fucking good? During Degreeless or Spiral or IHAKF?
Submitted by Snare (user info) at 2007-02-19 01:54:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Now that's the kind of thing that uberites should be pushing up most heated.
instead of GHEY MENS lists....
That is, if they really want this site to regain past glories..
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2007-02-19 01:42:16 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
It's actually a story that came to me based off of the NSFW picture at the end. It deals with a lot of different topics, some I've been writing about frequently more recently while others are ideas that I find myself drawn back to all the time. I almost thought about NOT posting the picture with it, but in the end, I went with it. 1) because I thought a handful of more people might read my work with the NSFW bit tacked on, and 2) the picture really was the inspirational jumping off point for the tale itself.
The story really wrote itself and I had a number of issues with it when I was finished. Did I draw out the middle part too long? Did I realistically capture the essence of the relationship between the protagonist and the others around her? Did I hammer home the point of the title and how it tied in to the narrative too awkwardly? So much was contained in such a small, ultimately insignificant little tale...
Submitted by rob_berg (user info) at 2007-02-19 01:34:27 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Much better use of wordswordswordswordswords.
me likey.
Them boobs are perfect, fish.
Submitted by Falafel (user info) at 2007-02-19 00:22:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by eric_the_bread (user info) at 2007-02-19 00:10:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
lungfish, no they're not.
Submitted by Antioxident (user info) at 2007-02-18 23:58:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Is that image even legal?
Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2007-02-18 23:53:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2007-02-18 23:14:48 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2007-02-18 20:29:02 (#)
Ranking: 2
I'll pay you $5 AMERICAN to write my ubertine for me.
Submitted by pannerplant (user info) at 2007-02-18 23:06:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
How could they play halo 2 if they were living in the 19th century???
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2007-02-18 23:02:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I <3 lesbians
Submitted by locksly (user info) at 2007-02-18 22:53:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm starting to tear up a bit
Submitted by lungfish (user info) at 2007-02-18 22:53:38 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Her boobs are almost too big.
Submitted by Director (user info) at 2007-02-18 22:38:00 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Auto wet breasts +2