This group is for writers and readers. If you are writing or have written stories you want to share with the VicsLab.com community, you can add your stories to this group. Or if you want to read a story and give feedback, you can join the conversation. Members also can create and comment via forum topics to discuss certain aspects of the stories, such as characters, plot, theme, style, and setting.

If you already have a story on your profile page under your “Stories” tab, you can add that story to the group by selecting the document and then selecting “associated groups.” There you can select this group so it can be seen here. Please select “logged-in users” for your story’s privacy settings if you don’t want non-members to view it. Also, please select “Doc author only” under editing privileges if you don’t want others to edit your work (i.e., make changes to your story).

E.O.T.M 1.0, ‘Prologue’

Fire … Flame ... Destruction.

From what I read as a child, our world was born from this. Fire in the cosmos, destruction on a universal scale, and out of that came Earth. If that was truly the case, wouldn’t it be a fitting end as well …?

Not that it matters I guess.

In this world, trying to contemplate and figure out the reasoning behind what happened, what brought us to this brink of destruction, is useless at best. There’s nothing to learn there, it’s not like it’ll do anything. Thoughts and wishes won’t bring back the dead and you can’t feed yourself off the ‘why’ of things.

In the end, I guess this why no one complains. At a point in time, I heard that the sky used to blue and that the sun used to peek out over the cover of clouds, breathing life into the world and vegetation. This wasn’t what we grew up with.

There was never any point in saying that the world is shitty now, or that life is hard. That’s a redundant statement. It’s not anything to contemplate, it just is what it is. Bitching and moaning about it is such a waste of time, you might as well complain about the fact that we need to breathe, or eat ... and praying for anything other than what we are given is just as pointless.

There is no God on this planet, or any deviation of said entity. If there was a heaven or hell, it was atomized along with everything else, sealing off the door to any salvation that awaited us. A person is always better off thinking that when they die there is nothing after. After all, it’s a scary thought, to think that your soul rots alongside your corpse, staring out into whatever horror it is that ended your life.

I don’t know. You can call me bleak, a downer, or whatever else you’d like. This is just the reality of things.

In order to move forward in life, you have to be willing to take in the blatant statements that life hands you. If you don’t like it, you’re given one of three options: Die in some hole and let the rest of us move forward, accept it for what it is and move forward despite the circumstance, or muscle up the courage and balls to change whatever it is that you don’t like your fucking self.

Acknowledge everything handed to you. Now throw it all away.

In this world, it doesn’t matter what rests on the other side of the door. You have to shoulder your gun and go in anyway. If there’s something inside that wants to kill you, congratulations, that’s normal. If you cling to every single fault of everything, you’ll never have the courage to take a step forward and try your best. You won’t be able to survive. You need to accept it all and ignore it… or the hesitation will get you killed along with everyone around you.

***

“Eeehh.”

Taking the piece of paper in my lap, I crumpled it up, rolled down the window of the truck and threw it out into the barren wasteland.

“Fucking pointless ..”

Immediately rolling back up the window, I shoved my pen back into my shoulder bag and let my head fall against the back of my seat. As the silhouette of the weather station began to appear in the distance, I flicked down my visor and took a look at my face in the mirror.

Dark heavy bags hung below my eyes, and my normally short, neat, black hair was nothing but a sweaty matted mess. Despite everything I wrote, trying to make myself more awake, it still didn’t stop the fact that I felt uncomfortable. It didn’t make anything better.

I guess, even though I had come terms with most things, I wasn’t any less tired, and the world wasn’t any less shitty. My past still haunted me, and there were still mouths to feed.

Discussion (1)

  1. Justice

    I like it. A good setup for the first chapter that fills in what is going on. You totally dodged making up a fake history of why the world was in this state which works when coming from a character’s prospective. If it doesn’t matter to his situation then why bring it up? It is what it is. Empathized a good deal from his acceptance of something he can’t change. Very clever. I’ll have to remember that one for my own writings.

Comments are closed.