Ryan Chani

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Filtering by Tag: Free Write

Short Stories to Get the Mind Going #7 - "Head Voice"

Well well well, here we are again, starting a post off with me saying I should have done this earlier, but my schedule has prevented me.  I'm sick of this song and dance... let's just not set expectations here, agree?  I'll put my stuff out when I do and you come enjoy it when you can. 

ok, happy we got that outta the way.

now onto this story! 

This free write was an interesting one for me.  i really liked the concept as it was coming out of me during the session, then the end came and i thought it really came together nicely! 

The artist I reached out to collaborate with me is sensational, Mr. Joe Karg, out of Atlanta caught my eye due to his stellar work on comedy posters.  After we connected on Twitter i was able to see more of his work and was completely blown away by the talent he has.  Please take the time to check out his Website and lose yourself in the world he creates every time he puts pen to paper.  You can also check out Joe on his Instagram

Head Voice

The phone wouldn't stop ringing.  

At this time of night i bet it’s someone just trying to sell me something or get my opinion on some hard hitting topics, like if taxis were sports cars, would i be more likely to use them over Uber?  I’ll let it go to voicemail.  

-5 minutes later-

i cant believe it’s still ringing… whats up with my voicemail!?!  “FINE! HELLO!!”  I screamed into the receiver as I put it to my ear.  “Hey…”  says a stranger.  

“Hello?”  their tone is very off putting for these types of calls.  “Hey…”  they say again, “wake up…”

within an instant i was brought back to reality,  sitting up in my bed.  wait… i start to feel around… ya, my bed.  i let out a sigh as i realize its only 4:30am, “that was a weird dream…”

“You can say that again” came the same voice that was my REM wake up call.  startled, i look around to find who’s intruding in my room.  no one…

“Who’s…” i say with a little crack in my voice, showing my nervousness.  clearing my throat, “Who’s there?”  that came out deeper then i anticipated, but i think it was effective.

“No one” came the voice again.

“What? Where are you!?!” still scanning the room for any shapes that could be the source of the voice.  I flip on my nightstand lamp… still nothing.

“I’m right here” the voice says smugly

“THIS ISN’T FUNNY!  SHOW YOURSELF!”

“OK… look in the mirror.”  

“I don’t have time for games!  I'm getting my gun if you don't come out!”

“No need to do that.  Just do what I'm saying.  look in the mirror.”  

I turn to the mirror which takes up a majority of the wall next to my bed. looking in the mirror I only see a dumbfounded yours truly…  No sign of anyone else.

“Look real hard” the voice continues.  “Look yourself in the eyes.  Don't blink.  Don’t lose sight of your retinas.  Concentrate on the darkest part of your cornea.”

Staring, for what felt like hours, i finally say, “i don't see anything.  just me.”

“Exactly! That’s all i really am.”

“OK!  FUCK YOU!  COME ON OUT DAMN IT!”  i had enough.  so happy my voice didn't crack for that…

“I know this is a hard thing for you to understand.  Because i am you.  I’m all your real thoughts and feelings.  The parts of you that you repress so you can float through your daily life with a smile on your face.  Figured its about time we met.”

“…this…wha…this is a little much… what…”  i thought hard to try to formulate the right words.

“you don't need to find the right words to say.  (crunch… crunch) i already know what you’re feeling about the situation.  (crunch) save your breath.”  says the voice.

“Are you eating?  Better yet… how are you eating?”  each crunch echoes louder in my head.  

“Just (crunch) found (crunch) some stuff (crunch)…”

“PLEASE STOP!”

“…laying around…(crunch)”  the voice continued.  

my jaw hurts…

“you going to eat that? (crunch)”  said the voice.  a little softer this time.  the crunching seems to be affecting my ability to hear.

“i dont know what you’re asking about… are you pointing at something?  i cant see you”  my vision begins to blur.

“that, right over… ahhh screw it.  if you don't know what i’m talking about, then you wont miss it.”  (Crunch!)

“AHHHH!  what was that!?!”  the pain came with a quick stab, then faded to a dull throb.  

“Oh nothing” (Crunch!)

“AHHHHH!  Stop!”  that time was sharper.  bringing the feeling to a peak of almost unbearable proportions.  

“See (crunch) the reason I'm finally able to communicate with you (crunch) is the fact you have been pushing so much of your actual feelings down (crunch) that i’ve grown.”

the pain has almost paralyzed me.  i lay in the fetal position on my bed squeezing my temples as if I'm trying to pop the top of my head like a pimple.  hoping to spew the agony puss out.  

(Crunch) “Once i was big enough to communicate.  i realized that if i held off, then you would continue your repression (crunch) causing me to grow even more (crunch).  My hopes were to eventually take over your consciousness then i could repress you and begin my life.”

The crunching pain is increasing.  every one fills my head.  i begin to try and think of a way out of this. if the voice is actually a part of me then… (crunch!)

the thought was gone… i see white… then the room begins to appear slowly… i see my hand thats now pulled away from my face… its red…

“i don’t believe you…”  i feel the vibrations in my mouth as the words come out, but i don't know if i actually got the right phrases off my tongue.  

“No use in trying to think now (crunch) its too late.  Where was i? (crunch) oh yes! after i started to devise the plan to take over.  I figured out that all your memories are just these little chips (crunch) waiting for you to store them somewhere.  If the chip is a good chip, you place it in your mental “bag” thats kept in your memory pantry for later use (crunch)  However, if the chip was bad, you threw it into your mental “trash bin”.  This should be taken out at least once every few years.  If not, then you could attract rats (crunch)”

my left eye is useless now… my ears are ringings like a fire alarm was tripped…

“i’m that rat… i’ve eaten all your trash thoughts.  (crunch) now I'm looking for the good chips.”

are my legs there?  i cant feel them…  id take my hands off my head to try and touch them, but my arms aren't reacting the way i want them too.

“the unfortunate part is i wont be able to take over your body once this is done.  i’ve grown too hungry to care about differentiating what parts of your brain i should eat (crunch) i figure id go down with the ship. like the noble captain i would of been.”

it doesn't even feel like I'm breathing anymore…  

“i’ve been trapped in your head for most of your life now.  stuck there watching you second guess every decision, question every detail.  it’s an incarceration i was never going to get out of.   i guess we can look at this as my last meal.”

CRUNCH…

Illustrations done by:   Joe Karg

Illustrations done by:  Joe Karg

-END-

Short Stories to Get the Mind Going #4 - "The Price You Pay for Shoes"

Another month, another free written story for your entertainment. 

This tale was the first completed when I started this project.  I wrote that first line, having no plan to take it in the direction it ended up going.  But when that final line came out, it was clear, this is how the story was supposed to go. 

The illustrations were done by Comedian/Artist/All around great man, Etrane Martinez.  His art captures this kind of child's view that was exactly what this story asked for in my opinion.  Check out his whimsical perspective on Instagram Art, Instagram Personal, and Twitter,

Let's kick 2017 off right!  Hope you enjoy!

The Price You Pay for Shoes

the grass feels good.

as I lay here my eyes flutter.  the sun is a harsh beast.  makes me appreciate the acorn that dropped here hundreds of years ago.  this tree is a life saver.  

well… wish it really was…  

Laying there, looking up, the pain of my loss still fresh.  this was my first day out wearing shoes I never should of had.  Air Jordan 11 Blackout.  worth around $5,500… a piece. they were a “thank you” gift for all the support I've given to my wife while she worked her ass off to make partner at her firm.  

see, I used to be a shoe designer, with my concentration being sneakers.  My designs were sought out by all the brands, for years, the biggest being Nike.  but I hadn't come up with a new idea for quite some time.  my wife, Becky, got notice she was going to be looked at for a high profile case. that’s when my passions were put on the back burner.  

we have 2 kids.  a son and daughter, 7 and 4 respectively. in my eyes they are the meaning of life.  they are also autistic.  requiring attention around the clock.  queue back burner.

that’s in the past.  no regrets.  well besides making the call to say screw it and wear my new kicks out.  that and the short cut down the path through the park I told Becky and the kids never to use.  

I didn't hear them coming.  assuming there were more then one, just to make myself feel better.  they came behind me and bang.  one smack over the back of the head and I lay there under my new timber friend.  the hit was good, didn't completely go out though.  I felt them flip me over, quickly discussing how they couldn't believe I had the Jordans.  

they fumbled around for awhile trying to pull them off.  struggling with something not expected.  the strongest double knot they would ever encounter.  something any parent of a mentally handicapped child is familiar with.  

since it was the middle of the day they really didn't have time to battle these laces.  the pain was sharp.  then black…

$11,000 gone, however the feet that stayed inside them… priceless.  Now I lay here, bleeding out. under a tree that has seen more time pass in the world then I could ever imagine.  maybe it will get the chance to see my kids grow up…

-END-

Short Stories to Get the Mind Going #3 - "Female Shadow"

Merry Christmas (and happy Holidays to anyone that got offended by that) what better way to celebrate then by releasing another short story!

This piece came out of me and I was taken back by it.  Not sure how my mind went down this path during a free write, but I was pleasantly surprised with the outcome.  My plan was always to release it on Christmas.  The Holiday of Holidays! 

The art that was done for this story, I really couldn't of asked for a better visual aid.  Once this project was put into action the artist that created this masterpiece came to mind instantly.  For this story in particular.  The artist I speak of is local comedian/artist Lisa Lang.  You can catch her comedy all around Boston and you can see her art through multiple medias such as Facebook, Twitter and Instagram

Again, please disregard any writing errors due to this being a free write to get the gears turning. Open your hearts/minds to the concept and ENJOY!

Female Shadow

Her eyes were like looking in a blue sea without a bottom.

No matter how long I kept eye contact, I’d never find their true depth.  I blink first, every time…

“you make me blush” I say to her as I break our gaze and look at the ground.  I cant even look at her feet sometimes.  “how’d I get so lucky…” quickly glancing back up, then down.  “I know you hate when I talk like that, but I will never understand the answer.”

“do you need anything?” I continue while starting to get up, stopping in that awkward squat position.  “oh, never mind you’re all set.”  sitting back down. “sorry…  just want everything to be perfect. hahaha…  even after all these years I still ask when it’s clear you’re fine.”  looking away again. “I’m sorry.”  

there’s a chill coming from the window cill.  the hairs on my arm stand straight up.  she doesn’t flinch.  “you must be cold.  let me get your sweater.”  hurrying over to the coat rack, I fumble with soft fabric while tugging it off the plush hanger I placed it on earlier.  

as I put the cashmere on her body, my fingers caress her shoulders.  the breathe leaves me.  the feeling I get when my skin makes contact with her body is something only a poet would understand.  she stays still.

I inhale.  Close my eyes.  I can feel the scent of her being rushing down my esophagus, filling up my lungs.  Exhale.  she stays still.

“please forgive me for lingering.  It’s just…” a soft breeze fills the room again.  “looks like the weather might be turning for the worse.”  i say, changing the subject.  she stays still.

“The funniest thing happened the other day.  I don't think I told you”  my hands slide off her shoulders and move seamlessly into flamboyant hand jesters, indicating an inthralling story.  “I was walking down the street, in a hurry, attempting to catch the bus.  When all of a sudden I hear a beggar say “excuse me, mister, excuse me” a beggar!  talking to me!”  my eyes are wide as I tell this story, pacing the room, hands keeping the beat so my words can follow.  “well, I’ll be, I thought to my self.  this beggar must see a weakness in me that would trigger her to think I would actually take time out of my day to give her my attention.  This intrigued me, so I obliged.  “yes, ma’am” I responded to her” even remembering this moment tenses me up, my right hard balled as tight as possible, nails digging into the skin of my palm.  she stays still.  

“The beggar then responded, “would you happen to have some change for a poor old woman, just trying to make enough to feed herself to last the night?” as she was saying this she started to stretch her hands out, palms up, while making eye contact and coming closer with subtle shuffles.  I couldn't believe it, she just wanted ME to hand her MY earnings.  for what reason?  due to her poor decisions I should make some of my own and just hand out my money?”  she stays still.

“Kenneth!”  is heard from the hallway.  

“excuse me just one second my dear.”  I walk to the door, crack it open.  “Yes MOTHER!?!” she stays still.

“It’s time for dinner honey!  I made your favorite!  Liver and onions baby!  come on down before the Liver starts to coagulate!”  my mother yells from the kitchen.  she stays still.

“Just a minute mother!  I don't mind if the blood starts to turn!  as a matter of fact, I prefer it!”  Kenneth shuts the door, turns to his companion.  “I’m sorry for the interruption.  my mother may lack etiquette, but please understand her intentions were well.  Now where was I?  oh the peasant… you know what?  this isn't proper conversation before we dine.”  Kenneth takes a seat back on his bed.  She stays still.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK “Kenneth, you should come down now please.  we are waiting for you to start honey.”  She stays still.

“JUST A MINUTE MOTHER!  you can start without me.”  She stays still.

“What are you doing in there Kenneth?”  his mother says while turning the knob.  She stays still.

Kenneth jumps to get across the room before his mother can enter, but is tripped up due to how tightly he had crossed his legs while sitting.  The door opens and Mrs. Kenneth’s Mother has a clear view of the room.  She stays still.

Her eyes widen and hand raises to catch the gasp as it leaves her mouth.  On the floor next to his bed lay Kenneth, but in the seat across the rug sits a taxidermied mess wearing her clothes…  

“What the hell is that Kenneth!?!  What have you done!?!”  Kenneth’s mother screams as tears start streaming down her cheeks and she collapses to her knees.  

The heaping pill of decay, donning his mother’s clothes, is a mosaic of discarded road kill that Kenneth has meticulously sown together, forming a new bread of beast that resembles the physic of a woman.  

“Please leave mother… there is no way to explain love…”

-End-