Moderndayscribing - Scribing Away Little Chips In The Wall

I didn’t plan on being a wanted fugitive.

Of course not. That’s not a thing you ever plan on doing. You don’t wake up on a fine Sunday morning, look up at your ceiling and say to yourself; ‘Today, I’m going to become a criminal.”

You don’t. You don’t do that. Please, don’t do that.

For the Official Record in case anyone is taking notes, I was not the mastermind behind the whole operation. I wasn’t the main character - I still am not, actually. I’m not even the love interest.

I’m just the guy who ended up being very, very unlucky. Enough to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

For me, that was eleven a.m. in the playground next to my apartment.

Oh, who was I kidding? I was practically inviting trouble on my doorstep, what with being up at such a godforsaken hour as that.

The morning air was crisp and cold against my skin. My dull grey and ratty jacket was like a teaspoon of sugar against a tablespoon of coffee - not enough to ward off the bitterness.

Goodness, I could so go for a coffee right about now. Not even with any cream or sugar - just the pure black bitterness to maybe send me back a day before this all even happened. Wouldn’t that be grand - I wonder if it were possible.

You might be wondering about now; “Hey, what’re you doing standing in the playground near your apartment at eleven a.m in the morning if you don’t like being awake that early? You don’t even have proper attire against the chill.”

Now that is an excellent question. I had no little kid to watch over - I didn’t have a partner, and I didn’t really plan on having for the next few years or so. I didn’t even have like, a pet or something that I had to take out for a walk. I lived alone.

Oh no, I wasn’t standing there because I had to watch over someone. I was standing there because I was looking for someone. Or rather, something.

I was looking for the magical arrowhead that I’d been forced to buy on the internet that morning.

I didn’t even know what an arrowhead was before that morning.

aggressive appreciation sounds

Not to be cringe but *enjoys my interests in a fun, harmless little way that makes me happy*

CAT DAD CAT DAD CAT DAD CAT DAD

This is so wholesome

I take in a deep intake of breath, pressing my palms flat against each other. “Okay,” I say. Point towards a youthful face that stared back at me with wide eyes. “You’re me.” My finger flicks toward the other face that stared at me. “And you’re me, too.” My fingers interlock with one another, press firmly against my forehead. “And you’re all here, in my room...why?” Future-Me and Younger-Me exchange a quick glance. Or rather, Future-Me glances towards Younger-Me, as Younger-Me is having way too much fun with my phone. “Universe likes to mess around,” Future-Me finally manages to say. I groan and lean against the headboard of my bed. “Right,” I mumble. Rub my eyes. “That makes sense.” My gaze gets drawn back towards Younger-Me. That childlike innocence. That optimistic hope. They had the whole world wrapped around their little finger - and they had no idea. No idea. Clueless, to what was coming. My eyebrows furrow. I lean forward, my mouth open and- Future-Me stops me by holding a palm out to my face. They meet my gaze, shaking their head. “Don’t,” they say. “You can’t do it.” I straighten to give Future-Me an incredulous look. “They don’t know what’s going to happen,” I say. “Neither did you,” Future-Me reminds. “That’s why they happened.” “I can stop it.” My fingers clench. “I can warn them-” “In the unlikely event that they even understand you,” Future-Me interrupts. “Changing the future can be devastating.” My teeth ground against each other and I glance away. Future-Me was right, and I knew it. As much as I hated knowing, as much as every fibre of my being wants to shake Younger-Me and tell them all the signs to look out for- I can’t. A hand rests on my shoulder. I glance back up, meeting Future-Me’s sympathetic gaze. “You’re angry,” they say. “Wound’s still fresh, huh?” I wince, then sigh. “Somewhat,” I mutter. The hand on my shoulder tightens slightly. “They have to go through what we went through,” they remind me. “They have to learn what we learnt - which means that they will have to meet Her.” Another hand rests on my other shoulder. Turns me around so I fully face my ten-years-in-the-future self.  “They’ll get hurt,” Future-Me murmurs. Gives Younger-Me a sorrowful glance. They sigh, then glance back up at me with a hopeful smile. “But they’ll survive. Just like we did.” I stare into my own eyes for a while, then sigh and nod acceptance. “I know,” I murmur. Give Younger-Me my own glance. “I just can’t- can’t help but worry.” Future-Me chuckles. “Oh yeah, you never really stop.” “Is that a general thing or are you being specific to me?” “I can’t tell you,” Future-Me wags a finger, “just like you can’t tell Younger-Us.” I huff, annoyed. Then sit still, my eyes widening. A hopeful glance back towards Future-Me.  “Does this mean the future’s good enough not to risk?” I ask. Future-Me meets my gaze and smiles; amused. “Maybe.” A lonesome chuckle spills past me. “That’s probably the best thing I’m getting,” I mutter. Future-Me wraps an arm around my shoulder and draws me into a half-hug. “I knew you’d come around,” they tease softly. Our attentions are both drawn back as Younger-Me releases a short giggle of laughter. The smiles on all our faces mirror one another. “What’re you doing?” “Playing!” “Are ya winning?” “Yeah!”

prompt 1394

Write a story that has three characters: yourself ten years ago, yourself now, and yourself ten years from now.

In case you writers ever wondered. Made by Carrie Patrick on Facebook.

tw; r*pe people watch/read graphic stuff with like, aliens in them or sumn and when the alien starts to lay eggs in the person we all go “EW GROSS WHAT NO DISGUSTING” and try to get the alien eggs out as soon as possible but when rapists impregnate someone it’s like “well maybe you were asking for it and no you have to carry the baby” like would you say “maybe you were just flashing that alien with your skinsuit” like?? dumb bitch-

I just don't think babies should occur unless the person undergoing pregnancy is okay with their body being used to produce another human being? I think that is a fairly basic standard of consent