This isnt poetry but i would like suggestions please.

[psychotic pretender]

i have never written a short story before but i tried my hand at it the other day and well i think it sucks

not the story but the way its written i could use some help please, anyone

i know that their are some spelling and grammatical errors but other than that what can i do?

The panic button

There was a fire in the building and I had to get out. Had to. I’m only 38 I cant die, I’m only 38 I cant die; this thought kept on beating its rhythm into my skull like a drummer on acid. I would like to say that I was methodically running over my list of options while calmly assessing my situation, but my mother raised no liars. I was panicking. The flames were licking up the walls and chewing at the carpets, smoke was rolling through the rooms like clouds before a storm hits. People were huddled on the floor crying, screaming and praying. And here I was running in circles thinking that I have to get out cause I cant die this young. Moron.
That’s all I remember until I came to in the hospital. My girlfriend slumped in the chair beside the bed with one of those trashy novels that she loves to read laying in her lap. I tried to speak to get her attention. I really tried, but there was this funny tickle in my throat. After, to my great shame, another short panic, I realize that my throat must be raw from the smoke inhalation. Probably been swabbed with some kind of anesthetic too. Great. So next I try to reach out and touch her knee. Once again I panic, I cant move my arm!! Its almost as if it wasn’t there. Oh, God. What’s wrong with me? Then I catch myself, what if I was burned badly? They would have had to give me something to keep me from moving, right? Ok, deep breaths. I will just lay here until someone notices that my eyes are open.
Two hours later I realized that the funny thing about hospitals is that you get bored easy and fall asleep quickly. Apparently I past out and missed my nurse on her rounds and my girlfriend waking up. Cause when looked around the room was empty except for the book, the chair, the clock, the machines and me. Yippy. Now what? What if I pass out again before I can get some one to see me blinking and rolling my eyes? I tried, unsuccessfully, to move my arm again. shouldn’t I be able to move limbs by now? What did they dose me with anyways?
Panic set in again. What if I cant move my limbs because their not there? So the next few seconds are futily spent trying to move my head. Great. No movement there either. Am I paralyzed? Paralysis would explain all the missing motor functions. So, here I am again panicking. I have to get a grip! Ok, now I need to run a systems check. Start at the top and work my way down. I know there’s no head movement but I can blink my eyes. No response from the arms but what about the feet? Um no, nothing. Great so all I can do is blink and listen to the clock ticking. Hey! My ears maybe I can hear something out in the hall if I quit concentrating on moving and focus on listening.
Hhmmm, muted voices. I don’t recognize them as anyone I know. One is definitely male and the other female. Maybe it’s the doc and the nurse? Laughter? God I hope they aren’t talking about me. Oh, they are moving down the hall. Guess they weren’t here for me. Nothing else made a sound outside the door for about ten minutes. Then I hear two voices and a hand unmistakably turning a handle. Yes! Someone is coming in here and I’m awake. No one enters. What are they doing???? Oh, they are talking, male and a female voice, my girlfriend!! What are they whispering about?
Something, something, something, brain trauma. Something, no response to stimulus. Completely catatonic?! Not me. Nope cant be talking about me cause I can move my eyes and look around and I can hear everything they are saying. Cant be me. Something, something, will he ever snap out of it? What was that? A no? not possible. Good here they come. I can prove this isn’t me they are talking about.


“As you can see Miss Wilson, your boyfriends eyes are open and moving. However whether he actually can see us is unknown. Watch as I shine this light into his eyes. Normal behavior is to avert the eyes or blink.” The doctor wiggles his light and nothing happens. “Do you see? No response just like his legs and arms, watch.” The doc pulls a pin out of his coat and pokes a finger, nothing moves. He then walks to the foot of the bed and pokes a toe, nothing. “ As I said, no response. His toe and finger both should have jerked away in reflex but nothing happened. I’m sorry, but we are going to have to pull him off life support and see if he can breathe on his own. His will states that he never wanted to be kept on artificial respiration. We kept him in stasis only to examine the extent of his wounds.”
“ But what happened to him to put him in this, this… the head wound, I know but..... how could such a small….oh god……”,she breaks up and sobs. “ Ok, if this is what he wanted… ok just do it and get it over with.” she glances at the bed, “I’m sorry and I, I love you,” she brushes a kiss on his forehead. “Alright doc, you can do your thing as soon as the priest gives him his last rites.”

What in the hell!! I’m not in a coma! I’m not ! I don’t care what his little tests say!! Honey please don’t let them pull me of the machines, please! Oh come on, the priest?! Your going to give me my last rites? NO!! I, I……………………

A priest steps up to the gravesite, his black robes fluttering in the slight breeze. He gives the usual lines that are required at every catholic funeral then gives a little smile at the girlfriend as she stands and gets ready to deliver her personal speech that she has prepared. To help them remember the good about the man in the coffin.


“We are here today to celebrate our friend passing on to a better place. A place where he can no longer feel pain or hunger. A place where peace reins supreme. And peace is the one thing he deserves. You see, he use to tell me that every time he got worried, there was a little panic button that got pushed inside his brain and…

[heinzs]

I think it's a good start, I like the style. Give it another once over and tighten it up a bit here and there. Perhaps add to the end, since it's a different viewpoint.

[psychotic pretender]

thanks heinz

i been trying to figure out what to do with it but this is my first attempt at a short story and im kinda at a loss

poetry is easy for me but making people speak isnt

im guess im gonna sit and tinker with it some more....ill repost it if i can ever make it do anything

[MJPease]

Hello psychotic pretender, From my own experience this is about as real as this subject gets. I'm curious as to where it is derived? I agree that it needs some tightening up but all in all it scares the living shit out of me. Like a Steven King type of thing but for me it's a possible reality. I've personally experienced the light in the eye thing. Hearing voices in a room with out being able to respond. For me the young woman in the chair was a a close family friend. A young resident MD who was hell bent on keeping me alive. When I opened my eyes she was slouched in a chair next to my bed looking half dead herself. Take Care and keep up the good work

[psychotic pretender]

hey mjpease

it came from a night mare i had one night

and i couldnt shake it the next morning so i did my best to write it down

still trying to work the kinks out, but i am glad you enjoyed it

like i said i will repost it when im done tinkering with it

thanks again, im glad you enjoyed