Yea.. I got scared. Enjoy this fiction scene I wrote.

It’s sunset in Brooklyn, New York. MIGUEL is smoking a 5 inch joint in the backyard of his apartment. The backyard is mostly cement with cracks on the wall where his apartment is, cracks on the ground and a little garden that has 6 foot trees covered in soil and cat feces. The area where MIGUEL is sitting is covered in corona glass bottles along with a cooler filled with alcoholic drinks next to him. There are lights, cheap Christmas lights, hanging from a fence that surrounds the little garden. As he smokes, he has headphones plugged into his phone with the song Billie Jean being played. MIGUEL is on a chair that allows him to lay down. His best friend JESUS storms in through the door outside which is unlocked. 

JESUS storms into the backyard where MIGUEL is singing and dancing all while laying down in his chair with a joint in his hand.

JESUS: I CALLED YOU 13 FUCKING TIMES!

MIGUEL has his eyes closed, singing along to Put in your head on my shoulder that is playing through his headphones. He is waving his hands side to side.

MIGUEL: Put your head on my shoulder. Hold me in your arms, baby.

JESUS yanks the headphones out of MIGUEL’S ears. Miguel jumps, opens his eyes and notices JESUS.

MIGUEL: WHAT THE FU… JESUS BRO!!! Bro, I fucking love you bro.

MIGUEL stands up to hug JESUS but JESUS denies him and pushes him hard enough to the ground.

MIGUEL: Fuck. I ain’t know it’s one of these parties.

MIGUEL continues to dance while on the floor.

JESUS: I called you 13 times.

MIGUEL: Did you?

MIGUEL checks his phone.

MIGUEL:  Dam. I thought that was part of the song.

JESUS: Do you have any idea what today is?

MIGUEL: No. Enlighten me.

JESUS: Today was the day our lives could’ve changed. But no, you fucked that. 

MIGUEL: I’m going to be honest with you, I have no clue what you are talking about and your vibe is really killing me. 

JESUS: Look at you. You don’t even care. 

MIGUEL: What should I even care about again?

JESUS: THE MILLER CUNNINGHAM DEAL!!!

MIGUEL looks confused.

MIGUEL: What the fuck is that?

JESUS: We had The Friday in our hands. The meeting was today and you didn’t show up.

MIGUEL: What the fuck does that got to do with me?

JESUS: YOU HAVE THE FUCKING DOCUMENTS! YOU HAVE THE ONLY SCRIPT! WE WOULD’VE HAD MORE BUT YOUR PARANOID ASS FUCKED THAT!

MIGUEL: That was today? Oh well. We’ll just do that Texas thing the studio was talking about.

MIGUEL picks up the headphones and puts them back in his ears. He continues to smoke his joint. JESUS sees this and smacks the joint out of his hand, reaches into MIGUEL’S pocket, grabs his phone and throws it into the wall to the left of him. MIGUEL looks in the center after this unfolds. MIGUEL then proceeds to look at JESUS.

MIGUEL: If The bros paid ryan about 25 mil for that lantern movie, then our studio can sure as hell give me 300 bucks for a NEW FUCKING PHONE!

JESUS shakes his head.

JESUS: Look at you. Look at where you are. You think the studio gives a fuck for you. They see you and they pity you. The only reason why you’re still a thing is because I vouched for you.

MIGUEL: Vouched for me?

JESUS: Yea.

MIGUEL: Vouched these nuts in your fucking face.

JESUS: See. Look at yourself. Do you think anyone takes you seriously?

MIGUEL: Hell fucking yea.

JESUS: NO ONE TAKES YOU SERIOUSLY! When everyone sees you it’s like they’re looking at a homeless man who stumbled across our set. When they see you, do you honestly believe they want to look at you? They look at you as a reminder. 

MIGUEL smirks.

MIGUEL: Oh yea? And what’s that?

JESUS: To remind themselves what a lost and forgotten man looks like.

Miguel stands up and grabs a beer from the cooler beside him.

MIGUEL: Lost? Forgotten? If I’m lost, then guide me.

JESUS: Are you kidding me?

MIGUEL: I wanna laugh but you killed the joy to laugh at this point so no, I’m not joking. Guide me. You say I’m lost and it seems you got the map to everything, so show me where to go. Point to it. 

JESUS: I’ve tried helping you. I did everything possible.

MIGUEL: Helping me? You tried helping me?

JESUS: YES! Who do you think paid for all your rehabs? Who vouched for you everytime you came to the studio drunk or high? Who do you think told your mom not to worry every time you went on social media and threaten suicide? ME!! IT WAS ALL ME!! 

JESUS begins to cry.

MIGUEL: You want a beer? Looks like you need it.

JESUS trips to wipe the tears off his face.

JESUS: Fuck you. I’m done with you. 

MIGUEL: You were done with me 10 years ago.

JESUS: You’re still going. Look me in the eye and tell me that?

MIGUEL walks towards JESUS with his drink in his hand. MIGUEL is now face to face with JESUS. MIGUEL looks at him for 10 seconds and takes a sip of his beer. 

MIGUEL: You were done with me 10 years ago.

JESUS looks at MIGUEL for 10 seconds. JESUS then looks at the bottom left of the floor and begins shaking his head.

JESUS: Okay.

JESUS pushes MIGUEL and proceeds to punch MIGUEL knocking him down to the floor. JESUS begins walking away towards the door outside. MIGUEL is on the floor and repositions himself to face JESUS who is walking away. MIGUEL is now positioned where he can see JESUS leaving. MIGUEL is crying. 

MIGUEL: WALK AWAY!!! YOU ALWAYS WALK AWAY!!!

JESUS stops. He is standing outside the gate with his back turned away from MIGUEL. Miguel is still crying.

MIGUEL: FUCK!!! Jesus please come back. I can fucking see you. Come back please. I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I’ll go to rehab. I’ll do anything, just please come back. 

JESUS is standing there still with back turned from MIGUEL. JESUS begins to cry. JESUS closes his eyes. He opens his eyes.  He begins walking away. JESUS walks towards the car he drove there with and gets in. MIGUEL stands up once he hears the car turn on and tries to follow JESUS but it’s too late. He drives off. 

MIGUEL: FUCK!!!

MIGUEL continues to cry. MIGUEL put his shirt over his face to wipe off the blood and tears off his face. He screams as loud as he can. He stands there looking in the center with tear drops coming down his face. He goes back to the backyard. He walks over to his cooler and picks up a new beer. He walks around the yard. 

MIGUEL: I’m lost. No one will care. No one will remember. 

MIGUEL takes a sip of his beer, throws it across the backyard and walks towards the garden. He hops over the fence. He is now in the garden. He uses a shovel that was already there and begins shoveling the dirt out of the ground.

MIGUEL: You’re doing the right thing for everyone. It’s okay. Don’t cry.

MIGUEL stops shoveling as the shovel bangs onto something. MIGUEL throws the shovel away. Miguel drops to his knees and begins to put his hand into the spot where he shoveled. He then picks up a beretta that was in the spot where he had shoveled. He then gets up from his knees and hops over the fence. He walks and stumbles to his chair. He picks up a new beer with one hand while the beretta is on the other one. He opens the beer and decides not to take a sip. He lays there with the beretta in his hand. He looks down at the beretta. He puts his shirt over his face to wipe the tears and blood off his face. He looks down at the beretta. 

MIGUEL: Guide me.

Lights go out. End of scene.

I can see you at the end of the screen. You’re reading this. Why? It’s close to Halloween. Watch Something. Watch Halloween Kills. That movie in my eyes…BANGER. You know what I’ve come to realize. Steve from Blues Clues came back. Why? Is he in debt? You’re reading this and you’re probably wondering, How the fuck is this a flash fiction story. I’m going to be honest with you…It’s currently 12:39 am and all those words that you just read are my thoughts at this time of the hour. Yea.. I fucked up bad. To anyone currently reading…I’m going to be honest, I’m currently writing this on the top of my brain while taking a shit. I missed two classes. That is not good. Not at all. I’ve read you’re story. It was really good. The attention to imagery is just amazing. You my friend, You are going places for sure. I should probably start actually writing now. Well, here is a preview to a piece of dialogue I did for a project that will never see the light of day. Enjoy.

HUNTER: You’ve always been stubborn. You’re blinded by love and oblivious to the hate I have for the world you fixated in your head. This world isn’t sunshine and love. This world deteriorates in front of us but you choose to look the other way in hopes that the flames stop and beautiful flowers grow through the cracks. Just let me die in peace Sophia.

SOPHIA: When I first met you, people told me to keep walking and don’t look back. They told me you were a man who killed anyone who looked at you or your brothers wrong. That he didn’t love anyone and that if you were to look into your eyes, you would be staring into the devil’s eyes. When I looked at you that night, was I looking at the devil?

HUNTER: It’s something you shouldn’t be asking me. Everyone has their own perception of life. So, that night, October 30th, 1978, did you lock eyes with the devil?

That’s enough. Speaking of the devil, this is also a sneak peek of another project that I hope to finish writing and direct by the year 2050. Enjoy.

The scratching stops. MICHAELA hears the scratching stop and comes from underneath the blanket. To her sight, she is now at her elementary school. She is in the middle of her classroom. In the daylight, this classroom is filled with smiles and tunes of laughter coming from the children who come to learn. Now, the classroom is gray and muddy.

This isn’t good at all but it was fun. Feel free to butcher it in the comments and in my blackboard. I gotta go to bed. Remember this though…..

I’M BATMAN.

What

I don’t’ understand the need for a rule in poetry

I hate poetry

We have rules in poetry

I don’t understand poetry

Art is beautiful so let it be free

I love poetry

So many rules 

It lights up a fuel

I just went on rhymezone 

So I can find a word that rhymes with fuel

Did I Just Break a Rule?

I guess this isn’t creative 

I dislike poetry 

This is the stuff I may give 

I beg of you to give me a grade

I’ll find a way to be Persuasive

Looking at a rubric 

A bad grade will box me like a cube did

Music

Fabric

I will rhyme pubic with I need an acoustic to make music

So many rhymes

Not enough time

This thing of a poem is a crime

Sometimes

I wanna rhyme without a doc telling me to

This is my view 

Sorry to disappoint you

I’ll go over it at the review

So many rules

Is this a poem?

 I choose to be silent. As I type, the only noise I hear is the sound of me typing the following and the many words and thoughts my head produces. I can sit hear and type why I’m silent but it’s late and when it’s late I tend to go with what I really think. Throughout my life I have read many books but not one woke me up from my slumber but rather create it. I see the many hashtags. I feel the roar as it echos. But I choose to stay silent. The words you summon can be an enemy. Your words can leave an impact but at what cost is what I think sometimes. I choose to be silent. I would rather write and die with what I write. I chose to hide behind your shadow as the arrows come by. I am my own monster. I choose to be silent. I choose to follow you as I’m scared to walk a path that was paved for me. I choose to walk alone and talk to my shadow when the sky has plans for me. I choose to stay away from the media as my head takes everything depressing and flips it on to me so I can have a bad day. I choose to be silent. Through the eyes of other I choose to be ignorant. Through the eyes of other I choose to be selfish. Through the eyes of others I am the problem. Through the eyes of others I am a madman that wants to watch the world burn. I choose to be silent. The Thoughts I have is how I perceive reality and maybe I’m trying to save everyone from them. Maybe I’m scared of how reality perceives me. Maybe I’m scared of how god perceives me. If there is one. Now I’m scared how reality perceives me after that comment. This is why I chose to be silent. To some I think irrational but my mind… somehow my mind makes the most irrational things be rational. I choose to be silent. Does it make me a bad guy? I don’ t know. I choose to be silent.