Status: Hey, kid: keep that camera ready.
The Great Decay
She's A Real Mad Operator
Alex's POV
I got onto a bus to head uptown to my buddy's apartment. He is one of the friends that my parents hate because he's like me. I don't get anything from him but "useless dreams that are distracting me from my college career." So I said fuck 'em and I continue to continue photography. I like the bus. It welcomes all sorts o people in and nobody really cares who you are. I take the scenic route for inspiration.
The plan was that we would meet up at his house, grab some equipment, and head up to the coldly elegant parts of Minnesota, and other places, if we had time. The bus stopped at the station and I grabbed my things. Standing there was Richard, or Ricky. "Hey, man." A smile appeared on his face. "What's been up?"
"You know, the usual." i give him a smirk.
"Great. Your parents still hate me?"
"Oh, so much." We laughed and I gave him a quick hug.
"You ready to go?" he said, looking down at my bag.
"Yup." We walked to his car. It was freezing (as usual) out. I wrapped the scarf around my neck a few extra times. I got in the passenger seat and we set off. He took a few turns and found a parking spot near his apartment complex. We got out of the car and climbed up the steps. We walked down to number 201 and he pulled out his keys. Walking down the hallway was the girl from the beach. She turned to the two of us.
"Hey, Rick." she said, continuing to walk down the hall.
"H-h-hey," he said, shakily. Shakily is the best word I can think of for how he said it. It was something like the response to the ghost of your grandmother asking you whatever happened to that sweater she knitted you. She continued to walk and Rick hurried to open up the door. "Goddamnit, where did I put it?" he muttered. I was still looking down the hallway. "Alex. Alex."
"Yeah?" I said, sounding as though I was coming out of a haze.
"What was that?" he said, pointing down the hallway.
"I've seen her before."
"I wouldn't suggest seeing her again." His voice was quieter. "Wouldn't be safe for your health."
I cocked an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"Don't stare." He pulled me into the apartment. After closing the door behind him, he continued. "Let's just say she's a real mad operator, and I've been around and I've seen some crazy shit. Weird stuff you only see at underground types of places." He seemed on edge. As he walked to get this things in his room, I followed.
"What do you mean, 'she's a real mad operator?' Is she crazy or something?"
"Yes, and not just in the 'yo, man, that bitch is crazy' sense of the word. She is psychologically fucked in the head." He walked to his closet, grabbing important items. "This one guy I knew dated her for a bit. One time, he got in a fight with her, told her that it was too much to hope that she would at least try to get better. I haven't seen him this side of the US since." He puts all of this supplies into the bag and walks into the kitchen, grabbing a Diet Coke.
"Beware: she might be anywhere, and that's the scariest part."
I got onto a bus to head uptown to my buddy's apartment. He is one of the friends that my parents hate because he's like me. I don't get anything from him but "useless dreams that are distracting me from my college career." So I said fuck 'em and I continue to continue photography. I like the bus. It welcomes all sorts o people in and nobody really cares who you are. I take the scenic route for inspiration.
The plan was that we would meet up at his house, grab some equipment, and head up to the coldly elegant parts of Minnesota, and other places, if we had time. The bus stopped at the station and I grabbed my things. Standing there was Richard, or Ricky. "Hey, man." A smile appeared on his face. "What's been up?"
"You know, the usual." i give him a smirk.
"Great. Your parents still hate me?"
"Oh, so much." We laughed and I gave him a quick hug.
"You ready to go?" he said, looking down at my bag.
"Yup." We walked to his car. It was freezing (as usual) out. I wrapped the scarf around my neck a few extra times. I got in the passenger seat and we set off. He took a few turns and found a parking spot near his apartment complex. We got out of the car and climbed up the steps. We walked down to number 201 and he pulled out his keys. Walking down the hallway was the girl from the beach. She turned to the two of us.
"Hey, Rick." she said, continuing to walk down the hall.
"H-h-hey," he said, shakily. Shakily is the best word I can think of for how he said it. It was something like the response to the ghost of your grandmother asking you whatever happened to that sweater she knitted you. She continued to walk and Rick hurried to open up the door. "Goddamnit, where did I put it?" he muttered. I was still looking down the hallway. "Alex. Alex."
"Yeah?" I said, sounding as though I was coming out of a haze.
"What was that?" he said, pointing down the hallway.
"I've seen her before."
"I wouldn't suggest seeing her again." His voice was quieter. "Wouldn't be safe for your health."
I cocked an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"Don't stare." He pulled me into the apartment. After closing the door behind him, he continued. "Let's just say she's a real mad operator, and I've been around and I've seen some crazy shit. Weird stuff you only see at underground types of places." He seemed on edge. As he walked to get this things in his room, I followed.
"What do you mean, 'she's a real mad operator?' Is she crazy or something?"
"Yes, and not just in the 'yo, man, that bitch is crazy' sense of the word. She is psychologically fucked in the head." He walked to his closet, grabbing important items. "This one guy I knew dated her for a bit. One time, he got in a fight with her, told her that it was too much to hope that she would at least try to get better. I haven't seen him this side of the US since." He puts all of this supplies into the bag and walks into the kitchen, grabbing a Diet Coke.
"Beware: she might be anywhere, and that's the scariest part."
♠ ♠ ♠
By the way, this is all kind of chronologically screwy. Alex is pretty much in order, but Joan isn't because she can't think that way. Yeah. You like? Comment and tell me what I'm doing right/wrong.