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Parry (work in progress)
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Parry (work in progress) |
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patchoulipumpkin Member
since 2000-01-01
Posts 196Bermuda |
Hi there, this is something i'm working on, thought i would share it to maybe get some feedback, to see if its interesting. cheers Drip, drip, drip. The tap kept dropping small blots of water into the bathtub. Drip, drip. The sound slowed down from the earlier drips which took over the noise level of the whole bathroom, and were now behind the outside noise. Parry could now hear the echo that the drips made on the water, and watched the otherwise still bathwater, getting pushed back by each drop. He imagined them as small bombs dropping from a great height, and exagerrated, when the wave of the drop pushed up under his chin, that he was under attack. Boom he said in his head as the drops fell, Boom. Parry submerged his ears under the water so that he could hear the hum in his ears, but kept his eyes at water level so he could still see the drops coming. Sploosh, sploosh, he repeated the exercise, this time, being more interested in the squishy noise the water made when he was listening to it under the water. Then he thought of drowning and what it must feel like, making so much noise that could not come close to truly expressing the fear of struggling for one's life. It would seem like a vacuum, just slowly being swallowed up by nothing, until, you dropped from behind your eyes, and disappeared. And all of your struggling, and all of your effort exerted against it, couldn’t be heard, except by you. Ahhh. Suddenly, without warning, a wave of panic passed through Parry’s body like an electric current, that started in his chest, and exited through his ears. I’m going to die, I am dying, help I’m having a heart attack, I’m going crazy, oh my god, I’m crazy. All of these thoughts passed through him, before he finally pushed himself up from the tub, and calmed himself down. “its only a panic attack”, he said to himself out loud, “its only a panic attack”. Then, just as soon as he had come to realize he was having a panic attack, he jumped out of his skin, because the volume of his voice created a deep echo in the bathroom that redirected back into himself, so that he felt like he was entirely alone, and stuck inside a loop of his consciousness. He let out a small scream, “aaaah christ”. Then a voice came from outside the bathroom door, “parry are you alright?”. Thank god, he thought to himself. “yeh I’m fine Mum, sorry, just freaked myself out”, he replied. “I told you to be careful with your candlelit baths, you always end up getting scared”, the voice came back. “I know, I think that’s why I do it”, parry offered a suggestion. “Well, if you need anything I’m right down the hall”. “Okay”. Now that he had heard a voice from outside the territory he had created for himself with mood lighting from candles, light drum and bass, and some burning incense, he returned himself back into his body to relax. “Jesus christ, I’m an idiot”, he muttered under his breath, this time aware of the loud echo, and thought it best to use his voice at a lower level so as not to scare himself again. For as long as he could remember Parry was a scared and phobic guy. He would just get really frightened by things, that didn’t seem to fit into his view of the world. For example, when he was about 10, he was at a local football game, and was walking by the sidelines when he saw somebody pull out a big bag of drugs, who then asked another person if they wanted any angel dust. It was just the whole scenario of the event which scared him, probably because he had been shovelled so much anti-drug propaganda that the sight of drugs equated to evil, and the words angel dust, contradicted their intended joy. After seeing this he fled, almost running, and told his friends about it, who only said, “oh yeh, that’s karl, he’s just a drug dealer”. It would almost seem that from this moment on, Parry would be continually fighting against the idea that he was crazy, in that the majority of the world that he came across, were not phased by the things that he would turn to stone over. Some examples were: when Parry first heard about earwigs, and how someone said that they crawl into your ear, and chew through your brain, Parry’s imagination got the best of him, and he slept with cotton balls in his ears for half of Grade 4, terrified that an earwig might actually try it. Or the time when he was in church and was convinced that someone in the back row had a gun, and was going to kill him. He had seen an episode of some 80’s soap where these gunmen barged into a wedding and killed everybody in it, and the idea that this could happen entirely freaked him out, and only perpetuated his notion that there was no sanctity in the world. So he would be turning around after every hymn, to look at this guy, who smiled back at him, in a kind way, but Parry thought it was a bad-guy sneer which thus, made it all that more difficult to realize it wasn’t true. This kind of thing would plague him throughout his childhood. He would cross the street if he saw a parked car up ahead with someone in it, because he feared they would try to kidnap him. The same would go for a strange looking person that would be walking up the sidewalk. If they looked shady, Parry would just cross the street, and then cross back after they had passed. He was a complete paranoiac, and he always envisioned the worst case scenario. The more implausible, the more it made sense to him, because his imagination, ruled over his reason. Because of his preoccupation, with being preoccupied, Parry would often be in his own world half the time of his life. As he was towelling off from his bath, he thought about Gwen. A girl who he had spotted a month ago at school. To Parry she was beautiful, gorgeous, something that he got nervous over every time he saw her. Gwen had noticed him too, and the two of them had been on the phone for the month, and were now planning their first date. Tonight was the night for Parry, and he was already going through the whole evening. He would pick her up in his mum’s car, he would put in some ambiguous, non-partisan music, R.E.M, would do he thought, they would go the restaurant, have a nice dinner over some candles, and then catch a movie, a straightforward romantic comedy. He would take her home, and she would be enamored with him, touching his leg on the drive home, holding his hand as they walked to her front door, and then kissing him right on the……. "Parry", bang, bang, bang, bang. "Parry get out of the ****ing bathroom, I need to use it". Caught in his own mind, Parry quickly re-entered the world. “I’ll be out in a minute Christy, just relax”. Christy was Parry’s sister, who was fanatical about all things to do with her appearance. On the bathroom sink and table, there were enough hair care products to satisfy a whole troupe of models for a fashion show, not to mention enough chemicals to kill all animal life within 100yards. In the cabinet there were beauty instruments, scissor, eye lash pullers, that to Parry looked like highly crafted torture instruments for the enemy. “Hurry up, you’re not the only one who has a life you know”. “Really?”, “I didn’t know you had one” “Did it just come in the mail?”, Parry sneered at her. “Funny asshole, real funny, hurry up”. “okay okay, as long as you promise you won’t wear any hairspray tonight if you are smoking, you remember what happened last time Sinead”. Parry had labelled Christy, Sinead, after Sinead O'connor because she had teased her hair with so much hairspray, that when she went to light a cigarette it sent her hair up in flames, and she had to cut her all of her hair off. “**** you parry, MUM, parry’s masturbating in the bathroom”. “Hey, I like your hair, I think it looks fine, it will grow back any way don’t worry about it”. Finally dry, Parry shaved quickly, brushed his teeth, threw on some deodarant, and was ready for Gwen. As he passed Christy in the hallway he said, “Are you going to a skinhead rally tonight, or are you donating your services to the bowling alley as an extra pin”. “No I’m going to a movie”. “Which one”, Parry asked, making sure he wouldn’t be there too. Its an action flick, called Deepstar Doom. “Sounds cool, alrighty, I’m outta here, wish me luck” “Break a leg”, Christy said. “That’s if I’m going on stage Christy”, Parry replied. “Parry, you have never gotten off, you’re a baby”, she answered. “Whatever”, Parry mustered his defense, but knew she was right, he was a wimp when it came to the world, he could only act his way into, and out of situations and hadn’t developed a healthy identity for himself with which to exist from. He had to exist through images and ideas of characters that fit a situation, and would get the best response. “Break a leg”, parry heard from inside as he had just stepped out the door, and onto his stage for the evening quote: |
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Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296Purgatorial Incarceration |
A very interesting story here. I think that the formatting works well, (my normal pet peeve,) ad that thegeneral word usage and grammar is good. I think as a story it works well and is convincing. We can all freak ourselve out far more than others can. Paranioa can become very real... and I liked the "family" interaction at the end...wholly believeable! |
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Dusk Treader
Moderator
Senior Member
since 1999-06-18
Posts 1187St. Paul, MN |
Interesting tale you have here. I enjoyed the read and especially like the last few lines, reminds me of myself a few times in my life. I thought that some of the dialogue at the end was a little hard to read, but like Chris, I think it's definetly believeable. A writer's soul is on paper etched. In flames I shall not be consumed, but reborn. -- Abrahm Simons |
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