General Art Mamono101's Short Story Thread

[Mamono101]

Hey guys, for my writing course I had to do this exercise in which you select a famous historical event and then write about it from the point of view of a character that has hardly ever been heard from before and I wanted to share mine, so here it is:

Spoiler

Pleasant. That was the only word I can use to describe my life. From the day I was conceived, the people at the factory thought I was nothing short of a miracle so I never wanted for attention after my birth. I had no complaints about my existence apart from the barrage of scientists who performed those tests on me to make sure I worked properly which was a daily occurrence in my life. Existence was simpler back then.

Then one day they said that I was ready to be used but for what purpose I had been made, I did not know. Had that knowledge been made privy to me, I may have put up more of a fight but as I had never left my home before, I felt it would be a unique opportunity for me to see the world. Little did I know that the journey would culminate in my death.

Then the next thing I knew, I was on a plane. What I didn’t know was why they decided to have me spirited away. The cold blackness of my surroundings did nothing to improve my mood as I waited in the foreboding darkness of my compartment. Time became irrelevant, as the length of the flight had distorted my sense of reality. I didn’t know how long I had been flying but the plane eventually began to slow down.

I felt the excitement of possibility building up as I would finally be able to gaze upon the outside world after knowing nothing but the factory walls my whole life. As the plane slowed to a near stop, a hatch below me suddenly opened and I felt myself plummeting towards the Earth. I could do nothing to stop myself from falling as gravity pulled me down. Faster and faster I went until my head thudded on the ground as I landed in the middle of a busy Japanese town. There was nothing I could have done.

When my head collided with the ground the nuclear warhead inside me exploded and the city became enveloped in great black mushroom cloud. The people near the blast radius died instantaneously. They were the lucky ones. People further away from the explosion had very little time to register what had happened and as word spread of the disaster, the panic on the streets was nothing short of chaotic.

Then the rain started. It was black, viscous, acidic rain which caused flesh to sizzle and melt upon impact causing the air to become thick with the scent of roast pork mingled with the smell of smoke from the pendulous mushroom cloud still lurking in the sky. Why had they created me only to kill me merely minutes after I had experienced the promise of freedom, I’ll never know. For not only my life, but the lives of thousands of Japanese people were ended that day – and it would forever be my fault.

Let me know what you think!

 

[Guest_1]

As a general rule, I try to avoid first person. In the past when I have written things, I have ran into tense issues. While I didn't see any reading this, it's always a good idea to read through it and check for errors anyway. With that said, I like your detail, but I think this could have been a bit longer. Did the assignment this was a part of have a word count limit, or was this just a personal choice?

 

[Mamono101]

As a general rule, I try to avoid first person. In the past when I have written things, I have ran into tense issues. While I didn't see any reading this, it's always a good idea to read through it and check for errors anyway. With that said, I like your detail, but I think this could have been a bit longer. Did the assignment this was a part of have a word count limit, or was this just a personal choice?

Sorry for such a delayed response...I don't write as frequently as I would like to so I never checked back for any comments... I used to avoid first person but I've been experimenting with it this year for my writing course and it's gone rather well I think. As for your previous question, the homework pieces were not meant to be longer than 500 words if we could help it as it was a course with 300 participating students!

---

I have decided to participate in ZD's Writing Competitions so I will have some short stories to add to this thread more frequently (once the previous competition has closed of course). Round 13 closed yesterday so I am assuming it is OK to post my previous entry up here now so here it is...

The Theme: ANGER


Contains Adult Themes so consider yourself warned...

Spoiler

It's there, deep within my very core, and this makes me recoil with fear. I know not why it is there nor from whence it came. In my vast collection of memories, I recall that we have never been apart. Most of the time, I am able to keep it caged. Locked away, it sneers at me as I struggle to keep it subdued. I remind myself that I am in control. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I pretend that I am in control. The calm façade I project does not reflect my inner turmoil but as long as the beast lies dormant, I too can achieve tranquillity.

In the distance, I can hear a voice. "...but their kind ruins the very fabric of morality within our society," the voice says and I can feel the monster stir.
"Don't get me wrong," continues the voice in a matter-of-fact tone, "I don't care what they do in the privacy of their own homes, but I don't need my child seeing them kissing in public."

The beasts eyes have opened for it has been woken from its restless slumber. It's been days since I last fed it. It yearns for sustenance and begins to stalk its prey as another voice begins to 'moralise', "And now, they want marriage as well? Don't they know that marriage is a sacred union between a man and a woman?" With every word, the muscles in my stomach and my arms begin to tense. The voices become louder and as I move closer to the source, I see them. Two men. Average in every conceivable way. They are sitting on an unvarnished park bench.

As I silently approach them from behind, the beast lets off a low warning growl and I say, "You're wrong, gentlemen." They turn with a start and look at me, eyes wide at my brazenness. The beast's growls increase in frequency as I continue, "Does it not make sense that two people, who are in love with each other, should have the option to show their love to the world, if they so desire?"

They look at me with glazed eyes, "That kind of love is unnatural. Just the thought of two men together makes me want to gag."

As the beast bares its fangs, I begin to smile, "There is nothing unnatural about love. It's people like you that cause other people nothing but misery. Your bigotry is what 'ruins the very fabric of morality within our society' as you so delicately put it earlier."

My heart begins to pound as the beast pounces, "It is you and your kind who are unwelcome here. It is the general public who do not need their children being exposed to your narrow-minded intolerance of something you don't want to understand. Just because their love is not what you consider to be normal does not give you the right to deny its validity. As long as both parties are of age and harming no one, who are you to judge someone based solely upon their sexual orientation?"

I am out of breath, panting from the exertion. The men take this opportunity to respond, "They brought it upon themselves when they chose to be gay."

The beast heads straight for the throat as I curl my hand into a fist and connect it with the back of his head. He falls to the floor. As I leap over the bench to straddle him, the beast begins to rip at his flesh as I tenderise it repeatedly with my fists. Each time I make a connection, his blood anoints my hands and as it begins to congeal the beast and I revel in our gratification of power. The man struggles but ultimately, he submits. His body goes limp though my fists keep moving. He is the drum-kit I was denied as a child and, in my mind, I savagely beat him to the rhythm of Lady Gaga's Born This Way, to make up for lost practice time.

Suddenly, the beast calms and I stop. I do not know why. No longer do I feel the need to strike out. I look for the other man, but he has fled. The beast howls with satisfaction as its lust, for now, has been satiated.

(Thanks to ALIT for pointing out a minor grammatical error! EDIT 28/11: If anyone sees another "it's" that should be "its" please let me know. That is what I get for writing a story between the hours of 12 and 2 am...)

 

[Mamono101]

OK, once again, here is my last entry from the Writing Competition. The theme: FLIGHT


Once again I caution that this story contains mature content

Spoiler

SECRETS ONLY NOBODY KNOWS​

The moon seemed to effervesce as its full illumination pierced the darkness, casting asymmetrical shadows over everything it touched. As the stars began to shimmer, a hostile wind began to blow across the rooftop causing Alastair Jones to shiver as he stood there, gazing at the 15 story apartment block on the other side of the road.

There was nothing to be seen apart from an endless array of transparent glass windows. A faint glimmer of light could be seen around the edge of each window but between the light and the window was a curtained barrier which the light was not able to overcome. It was almost as if each glimmer of light was trapped inside trying desperately to shine through the cracks, but as the night wore on, each light failed in its endeavour for freedom and was subsequently extinguished as a reward despite all its efforts to be seen.

As the last light lost its struggle, he could feel his inner light beginning to evanesce. No matter how hard he tried, no matter who it was he spoke to, the curtain over his emotions would never allow his light to shine through. Every little crack had been boarded up. Nobody would ever be able to know the real him.

How can people say that they understand my true feelings when even I myself am unsure of how I feel? Nobody can know...

Everyday after school, Alastair would go searching for his true light. In front of the bathroom mirror, he would strip. From the medicine cabinet, he would fetch the one thing that never lied nor judged him - his razor blade. He would cut himself in the hope that his light would finally have a way through his inner barrier but not once was he able find it. No matter how often he cut, nothing ever changed and he remained just as invisible as he ever was at school.

I have always known that I'll never be loved because of who I love... these feelings will never change...can never change...

People at school always seemed to be happy. ‘Happy’ appeared to be normal. ‘Happy’ was everything he wasn't. But if being ‘happy’ was really as wonderful as everyone made it look, why does happiness make people cry? Alastair always wondered how people could be so happy that they hurt on the inside. He used to conclude that whether or not it hurt to be happy, the pain of happiness was probably better than the pain that came with being sad.

It hurts so much, always being sad on the inside...

His pain would soon be over. In just a few short minutes, he would fly over the edge of the building in an effort to free himself from not only his suffering but the ennui that was life. With his back towards the now light-less apartment building across the road, Alastair ran to the opposite end. Just before he reached the edge of the building, he bent his knees, spread his arms and jumped.

I always denied the person I am on the inside. I just wanted to fall in love. That's just another impossibility. All because they say I'm not normal...

As the cold winter wind whistled past his face, time seemed to distort and he could feel his stomach churn as terror began to set in. This flight was one way only and there were no flight attendants to offer him peanuts and a refreshing drink. The in-flight movie was not that great either. He could see himself playing with Nobody as a child. Nobody had been his only friend and as he grew up, he knew that Nobody would always be his friend. Nobody always wanted to play with him. Nobody loved him. Nobody had gone with him to prom. Nobody cared that he had run away from home in order to take this once in a lifetime flight. He was even positive that Nobody would shed tears for him at his funeral.

He felt the familiar sensation of tears trying to escape as the in-flight movie reached it's climax. He had swan-dove over the edge of a building and the movie faded to black.

His flight had finally come to an end. He hit the pavement head first, snapping his neck in the process, although death had not yet come. His skull had caved in and blood was gushing past his face. He could feel his life's energy fading as he began to feel dizzy and light headed from blood-loss. He began to cry. However these tears were not tears of sadness. For the first time in his life, Alastair was happy. Happy that he no longer needed to endure the overwhelming feelings that came with being alive.

As he slipped into unconsciousness, a smile crossed his lips for his light had finally been freed from its cage.

No matter how much I loved him, no matter how much I pined for him, I knew he would never be able to reciprocate my feelings. The sad thing is, only Nobody knows how I truly feel...

As usual, let me know what you guys think (If anyone out there is even reading these that is...)

 

[Mamono101]

This is my entry, once again, from the previous community writing competition. Slightly edited to fix a prepositional error that I noted post-submission.

The theme was Mystery/Horror. I went down the horror route and caution that there is mature content in this story:

Spoiler

The Tunnel of Love​

Jessie recalled the first time he had laid his eyes upon Siobhan's exquisitely petite physique. Her wavy, blonde hair with bangs to match, perfectly framed her delicate, porcelain face on which not a trace of makeup could be found. She was the paradigm of natural beauty that society should aspire to be.

She had wormed her way into his head and no matter what he did to try and distract himself, his urges began to grow. For months he had followed her around, taking care to stay out of sight. Not once did she deviate from her routine, except for on this particular Thursday evening. After Siobhan had finished with her weekly girls' night out, instead of calling her usual taxi service, Siobhan decided that she would take a night time stroll, giving Jessie the perfect opportunity to make her his.

It wasn't long before Jessie found himself following Siobhan into a park, which seemed devoid of any man-made light. As she slowly ambled towards a tunnel on the other side of the park, Jessie quickened his gait, catching up to her as she reached the entrance. Without any provocation, Jessie pushed Siobhan as hard as he could into the wall.

As her skull made contact with the cement wall, a dull thud reverberated through the tunnel. Her vision blurred and she was hit with a wave of nausea. Clutching her hand to her head, which now had a large gash from which blood was seeping, she screamed.

Scared that someone would come running to investigate the noise, Jessie, using all his strength, lifted Siobhan up off the floor and threw her right back onto it. As her head made contact with the ground, Siobhan's vision went black. The force from the impact caused her head to jerk and her neck had snapped with a sound that had reminded Jessie of those cartoons in which a character accidentally steps on a twig when they're trying to be silent.

Looking down either end of the tunnel and, satisfied no one had heard anything, he focused his attention back onto his prize of the evening.

At last, she was his—and he could do with her as he pleased! As he slowly sunk his teeth into the cold, pale flesh of his victim's leg, he savoured its unique, rich flavour. Jessie's lips curved upwards into an almost sinister smile as the tepid, viscous, congealing blood, oozed down his throat leaving that metallic after taste he was so familiar with.

It wasn't until he began to satiate his craving for human flesh that he realised each person whose flesh he consumed differed ever so slightly in taste from each other. Factors such as age, place of birth and gender were what determined someone's distinctive flavour.

As Jessie lifted the victim's shirt revealing the pale, forbidden flesh that lay underneath, he directed his nose towards her stomach and inhaled. She smelled faintly of an apple-scented bodywash and despite the rigor mortis, which was rapidly setting in, Jessie stuck out his tongue and placed it on her body, just above her navel. He could feel the rush of excitement as his tongue glided across her rough-textured skin, gently massaging it in small circles.

The sampling of the outer layers of her skin was nothing more than his amuse-bouche. When his tongue reached the centre of her chest, he shivered with delight, for buried deep within was a delicacy that had been keeping her alive, until he had decided to intervene.

From the pocket of his dark blue, acid washed jeans, Jessie pulled out the Stanley knife he had brought with him in anticipation of this precise moment. Clicking the blade out of its casing, he forcefully inserted it into Siobhan's stomach in a quick stabbing motion. Once the blade had penetrated the outer layer of her skin, using a back and forth sawing motion, he worked his way from left to right, until the gash he was creating made her stomach resemble a giant pita pocket.

Rolling up the sleeve of his right arm, he inserted it into the newly crafted opening, until only his right shoulder could be seen. The wet warmth he experienced, as he allowed his hand to explore, was unlike anything he could have ever imagined. The closest he could come to understanding this sensation was thinking back to his childhood and the many hot, summer days he spent using a Slip 'N Slide. Yes...the frictionless surface of the Slip 'N Slide against bare skin was not unlike the inside of Siobhan's stomach.

As he sent his other arm in to join the festivities, he hummed tunelessly, pleased at how his night was turning out. Once both hands were parallel to one another, he pushed against the roof of the stomach with as much force as he could muster, slowly forcing the flesh covering Siobhan's innards to separate from her body, revealing the cavernous delights that lay beneath.

One by one he removed the ribs covering her heart, which made a satisfying snapping noise as they were dislodged from the breastbone. Picking up the Stanley knife, he disconnected the heart from the surrounding tissue and carefully pulled it out from its cavity.

As he held the hard, muscular heart in the palm of his hand, he could feel his adrenaline surging throughout his body. Raising the heart towards his face, he cleaned the excess blood with his tongue, running it along every square centimetre it had to offer. Opening his mouth, he placed one of the ventricles that he had detached into it, and sucked up the remaining liquid like a straw.

When he was satisfied that no more pleasure could be gained from the outside, he began to devour the heart. Ripping out chunks of the organ with his bare teeth, he was surprised to find that it was as chewy as an overcooked scallop. Almost as if he was on auto-pilot, he continued to rip, chew and swallow until the heart existed no longer.

As the world came back into focus, he could hear a woman's voice coming from the other end of the tunnel. As he approached the source of the voice, he saw a woman talking on her mobile. She had wavy, blonde hair with bangs to match, which perfectly framed her delicate, porcelain face on which not a trace of makeup could be found. She was the paradigm of natural beauty that society should aspire to be.

Keeping to the shadows and without a second glance at Siobhan, Jessie began to follow her...

 

[Mamono101]

I'm a bit late with adding this competition entry into this thread but better late than never, right?

With this particular competition, we had to pick three different elements from each set of pre-determined themes and incorporate them into the story that we chose to write.

They were:

1. Fantasy Style (Means you will have to write your story based in a fantasy world, either already existent, like Middle Earth, or create your own)
2. Real World (You have to base your story in our real world)
3. Dream World (As weird as it sounds, yeah, your story has to take place within a dream)

A. Swords and Magic (Your story has to feature swords and magic)
B. Pistols and Axes (Your story has to feature pistols and axes)
C. Lances and weapon of your choice (Your story has to feature lances and any weapons of your choice)

X. Knights and Dragons (Your story has to feature knights and dragons)
Y. Demons and Royalty (Your story has to feature demons, and royalty, such as a king, queen, etc.
Z. Student/Scholar and Peasants (Your story has to feature a student/Scholar and peasants)

I have bolded the choices that I made. I have also made a few minor corrections so that the story reads better. This story also contains violence, in particular a school shooting along with other adult themes. Consider yourself warned.

Spoiler

Seeing Red​

As the morning light slowly filtered into Marek's bedroom through the semi-closed blinds, he blinked profusely as its garishness accosted his eyes. He was in one of his moods again, and the last thing he wanted to do today was get out of bed. There was nothing in particular that he really wanted to do and he could do just as much nothing from his bed as he could out of it. Besides, going to school would only make him feel worse.

Marek had no idea where the notion that high school was supposed to be the golden years of your life came from, but he was willing to bet that whomever it was that started that rumour, was smoking something. It wasn't as if he hated his teachers or his classes. In fact, it was just the opposite. Knowledge was something that Marek loved to seek out and acquire. It was the other people that attended the school that he despised.

He didn't know what it was that caused others to single him out. He wasn't overweight, underweight, too tall or too small. Neither did he have any notable physical or mental disabilities. He wasn't gay, bi or trans. What he was, in his own humble opinion, was the epitome of normal. But, for whatever reason, there was just this general undercurrent within his student cohort that Marek was not someone worthy of your time unless you wanted to have a bit of "fun" with him. He was tired of being treated as if he was nothing more than a lowly peasant. The consolation prize was knowing that one day, each and every one of them would get theirs. And it would be all the better if he was the one to give it.

When Marek next opened his eyes, it was dark. Rolling out of bed and throwing on some clothes he had lying around, he decided he'd venture outside, where the night could best be appreciated.

The crisp, winter wind was cool against his face and if not for the traffic hurtling by, Marek might have been able to find some semblance of calm within it. Continuing onwards with his night-time stroll, he failed to notice a small group of his peers purposefully walking towards him. As he turned down a darkened side street, a flash of blonde hair with streaks of red was all he had time to register as they jumped him.

The pavement was particularly cold tonight as his face made contact with it. Not realising what was happening, Marek tried to get up, only to discover that something on his back was weighing him down. From the red streaked, blonde hair he knew that this could only be the work of Kayden.

No matter what he tried, Marek was stuck in this prone position. Without warning, there was a sudden pain in his side as Kayden's steel capped boot made contact with the side of his stomach, leaving him winded. Trying desperately to catch his breath, he was hit over and over until his body could no longer take it and he browned out to the sound of people with familiar sounding voices, having fun at his expense.

*[sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp]*[sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp]*[sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp]*[sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp][sp][/sp]*​

The school bell's shrill ringing roused him from his sleep. He opened his eyes to find his English teacher glaring at him from the front of the classroom. The rest of the class had already cleared out and he was the only one left. His teacher opened his mouth. It looked as if he was speaking but Marek could hear no sound. He felt disoriented. He didn't even remember walking himself to school this morning and yet, here he was.

His teacher's lips continued to move in what seemed to be a pantomime of castigation. Through the open door, he could see the throng of students going about their normal, daily routines, though not a single sound could be heard. His ears began to ring. Sweat streaming through his pores, he felt nauseated and enraged at their placidity.

Was he really so different from everyone else? Did they really deserve to be considered better than he?

Without waiting for his symptoms to subside, Marek stood up and made for the exit. To his surprise, his teacher did nothing but continue to silently move his lips. As he reached for the door frame in order to support himself, he discovered that his hand was not as empty as he'd thought. Within it lay a gun, safety off, cocked and ready to fire.

As his eyes scanned the student body, he caught sight of a blonde haired student with red streaks. It was Kayden. With a shaking hand, he raised the gun, took aim and fired three rounds in quick succession. The recoil of the gun interfered with his aim, causing the bullets to ricochet off the drinking fountain, hitting several other students instead. Chaos permeated the walls of the school as the students began running for cover, slipping in the warm, red blood that now flooded the hall.

As luck would have it, Kayden was heading in Marek's direction. With only seconds to react, Marek took a can of deodorant out of his bag and sprayed it in the general direction of Kayden's eyes, which did exactly what he hoped it would.

As Kayden dropped to the ground, the pain that was registering on his face made Marek grin. Taking Kayden by his hair, Marek dragged him through the halls until they ended up inside their manual arts classroom.

Closing and locking the door behind them, he noticed at the back of the classroom, embedded in one of the desks, was a wooden handled axe. Leaving Kayden writhing in pain, he dislodged the axe from the desk. Taking his new weapon back to his victim, Marek placed his foot on the centre of his tormentor's chest. Tears of pent up rage streaming from his eyes, Marek swung the axe as hard as he could into Kayden's shoulder. The axe was met with resistance as it hit Kayden's clavicle. Letting out a terrified shriek, Kayden began to struggle, desperate to get away.

Marek straddled Kayden's chest and locked his legs around his prey's back to ensure that no escape was possible. With careful precision, Marek slowly shook the axe free from Kayden's flesh, taking pleasure in every shriek he was able to elicit. As Kayden wriggled violently in an effort to shake him off, Marek turned the axe so that the blade was in his hands and using the handle, he struck Kayden's cheek with all his might. A loud crack could be heard as Kayden's jaw became dislocated. Tears, in amounts Marek had never even imagined were possible, were pouring from Kayden's eyes. It was almost pathetic to see him in this state. Before Marek was finished with Kayden, he would make sure that each tear that Kayden sheds, would be in homage to every victim that he had ever assaulted. The pain that he had caused was finally his to experience.

As Kayden howled in agony, Marek turned to face his victim's feet and with three rapid swings down his leg, severed the femoral artery.

As arterial blood spurted forth from the wound, anointing Marek's face, its warmth was somehow comforting and the unyielding screams were like a symphony that had been composed just for him. As he sat on Kayden's chest, he could feel Kayden's breathing becoming laboured until finally, he had breathed his last.

Satisfied that justice had at last been executed, he placed the barrel of his gun into his own mouth, and pulled the trigger.

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Marek awoke with a start. The shrill beeping from the heart monitor was the first thing that he noticed when he came to; followed very quickly by a sharp pain in his head, chest and stomach. The bright florescent lighting did nothing to improve his mood and only reminded him of the events of yesterday morning.

From the smell of disinfectant, Marek surmised that he was most likely in a hospital. He could overhear the nurses gossiping about how one of his attackers had called an ambulance and then left him for dead, for when EMTs had arrived on the scene, along with the police, they'd already fled.

Marek was a little surprised that one of them had cared enough to call for help though he was not surprised to discover that their concern did not extend itself to seeing whether or not he help actually ended up arriving. He was also slightly disheartened to discover that everything that had just happened, had only happened in his head.

Perhaps, if Marek could learn anything from this experience, it was that Kayden deserves to be put in his place. One of these days he'll be sorry and when that day arrives, Marek could only hope that he would be there to see it.

Finally, a big thank you to Locke for helping me with the BB code to format the paragraph breaks correctly—Couldn't have done it without you!

 

[Mamono101]

Here is my entry from the previous WCC (Congrats on winning LittleGumball!). I am horrified at all the spelling and grammatical errors that I never caught before submitting it. I have given it the once over to clean it up a bit more, though I'm sure there's some grammar fixes I've missed.

Unfortunately, even though for once this story contains no objectionable content at all, some people may still take issue with the themes so I caution you to read at your own risk.

Spoiler

Daniel had never been happier than he was today—the sun was shining, the sky was just the right shade of blue, but most importantly, he was getting married. The entire hue of the world was tinted by the elation he felt. Never in his wildest dreams did he think that marriage was a milestone he would ever be able to achieve.

As he stood there at the altar, waiting for Jess, his partner to arrive, he began to recall that awful and clichéd first date he'd been taken on, which brought a smile to his face. Well, they had only been in high school after all.

The initial plan had been simple: Jess would arrive at his place and then, after creaking his way across the wooden tiles in kitchen to escape his family, Daniel would sneak into Jess' car and their picnic-in-the-woods date could begin.

About an hour later than their prearranged time, Jess showed up to whisk him away on a romantic adventure into the wilderness. As they parked at the entrance to the forest, pendulous clouds had gathered above and threatened rain at any moment. The forest itself was thick with deciduous trees which were populated with various forms of birdlife ranging from the brightly coloured galah to the less flamboyant magpie. As Daniel shut the car door, the startled birds took to the sky creating a strange two toned rainbow effect as they flew themselves to safety en masse.

Picnic basket in one hand and Daniel in the other, Jess took them deep into the forest. After what felt like hours, they finally arrived in a small, circular clearing. Laying down a blanket on which the two of them took a seat, Jess snuggled into the crook of Daniel's arm which began to absentmindedly stroke Jess' cheek.

"I'm… er… really glad you said yes," Jess began awkwardly, while unloading the contents of the picnic basket, "I was worried you weren't… you know."
Daniel smiled as he replied, "I didn't even know that you were! Ever since I first saw you I've—erm, never mind."
"Oh no you don't," Jess replied with a mock sternness, "Ever since you first saw me, you what?"
"I can't. It's too embarrassing."
"Go on, there's no one here but me!"
"OK, fine," Daniel said giving in, "Ever since I first saw you, I've had the biggest crush on you. There. Happy now that you forced that out of me?"
Jess's smile widened, "Yes," came the simple reply, followed by a burst of laughter.

Daniel leaned in and pecked Jess on the cheek. They both looked away trying their hardest not to make eye contact with one another. After the awkwardness of the moment had passed, Daniel took his right hand and reached into the picnic basket only to have it re-emerge almost instantaneously. At the same instance, a loud yelp escaped his lips. He'd sliced open the tip of his index finger and red droplets of blood began slowly winding their way down his finger, staining the blanket on which the two of them were sitting.
"Are you OK?" Jess asked, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left that in there." With his finger in his mouth in an attempt to stem the bleeding, all Daniel could do was grunt an acceptance in Jess' direction.

As if things weren't already bad enough, a flash of lightning illuminated the sky, followed immediately by thunder as the heavens opened up and doused them with rain, bringing their first date to a rather abrupt end.

Looking back on that first date, he was hit with a wave of nostalgia and his eyes brimmed with tears, for he finally realised why Jess had chosen this particular clearing in this particular forest. They had finally come full circle and were about to get married in the very place where their adventure began.

Just when Daniel thought he was going to go insane from all the waiting, the four piece quartet finally picked up their instruments and began playing Mendelssohn's Wedding March. Then, Jess entered the clearing. Nothing could have prepared Daniel for how handsome he looked in his white tuxedo.

The formality of the ceremony itself coupled with the, "Do you, Daniel Ford, take Jessie Lincoln Smith to be you lawfully wedded husband" part, was all that stood before him and wedded bliss. Especially now that a law legalising same sex marriage had finally been passed.

Snapping back to Earth, Daniel heard, "You may now kiss your partner." So, just as he had done all those years ago, Daniel leant in and pecked Jessie on the cheek before locking lips, bringing an end to the ceremony and marking the beginning of a new life he would spend together with the man he loved.