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[bestleftnameless]

Untitled (continued III)

Because I ran off two seconds earlier than I planned, I was in time to witness a crime which occurred two seconds after I arrived which I would have otherwise missed. After witnessing this event I can confidently say that millions of people have been incorrect in stating something easy is like taking candy from a baby. It is actually a traumatizing experience for both the witness and the stroller, in fact I still sometimes have nightmares, usually they're about something scary like spiders. When the police arrived and questioned me I refused to talk because it was none of their beeswax, nanny-nanny, boo-boo.

 Soon after arriving and leaving the diner, it occurred to me that I had been wandering around for quite a while and wondered what time it was. I looked at my wrist and realized my watch was on the other hand. I checked the other hand and realized I had four aces so went all in. This resulted in a standoff where I was forced to fire all six rounds before the referee stopped the fight so I could conserve my energy for the next one. When I next entered the ring and found myself face to face with a lion I chose the high road and walked away overhearing the lion breathe a sigh of relief.

 While walking down the high road I came upon a rest stop. When I entered and looked into the bathroom mirror, I was frightened by the mirror world and quickly exited. When I looked into a different mirror I could hardly recognize myself. Soon after I realized I wasn't looking into a mirror but rather, a wall, I was appalled at myself for making such a mistake as to confuse a mirror with my uncle. That of course happened a long time ago but in this case I wasn't looking at a wall but a door, for as I pressed the button to activate the hand dryer on the wall, the wall itself let out a gasp as a section collapsed to the ground revealing a stairwell. After making sure the section of wall was ok and helping it to its feet, I placed it back in its proper position, sealing the opening behind me as I went down the stairs.

 Once at the bottom of the stairs I was greeted by a man with a long, black duster coat. He had jewelry but preferred to keep it in his pocket, though he wasn't shy to talk about it, his bling being the first thing he mentioned when we met. What really stuck out about him to me was his left earring which he was quick to mention as well. I recommended he see a doctor and he recommended I mind my own business, though shortly after he did see a doctor, then eventually talked to him and learned that the source of the ringing was also none of my business. After learning that his name was also None Of My Business, I decided to continue on my way rather than stand and be mistreated for 6 seconds longer, do not say it 5 times fast, do not even say it once.

 After walking down a hall I realized I was getting close to an exit when I saw the exit sign, but was disappointed to find it was exit 38 and I had already passed what I was looking for. Worse still, there was a storm coming as just then I thought I heard thunder rumbling but quickly realized I had actually heard thunder rumbling. I was not deterred however until I passed a sign warning me not to continue. It read murder/mystery novels (during it's free time of course) but that's beside the point, and behind the purpose. What was written on the sign that caught my attention was the statement exclaiming Eddy had been there, for it reminded me that not only had I fallen behind Eddy in the race, but that I hadn't entered the race at all.

 As I rounded a corner in the hallway I was quickly struck by the familiar scent of death, I hate that cologne. Knowing from my past experience that those who wore it were no good I was worried to cast my gaze upon the wearer. Once my nerve to look was summoned what I saw was indescribable, though I will describe it anyway. What I stared at was myself, for I was looking once again at the very same mirror in the very same bathroom from which I began my miniature journey to arrive back to where I started it. No I started it. No I started it.

[bestleftnameless]

Untitled (continued) 2

I woke up in a bright room. I must have made too much noise while falling down the stairs because they had taken me. Once again I was infuriated for I had made another terrible mistake. It turned out I hadn't broken my neck falling down the stairs, it had really been broken from the force of them grabbing and pulling me so quickly, though I was grateful they prevented me from falling and breaking my neck. I stood up slowly picking my hat up from the ground. I realized it wasn't my hat at all, in fact, it wasn't a hat at all, in fact, there was nothing there at all. I then saw my hat a foot away and leaned over grabbing it. As I extended myself to full height I realized I wasn't the only one with a grip on the fedora. The other man looked at me with what I imagined to be as equal a look of confusion as my own. It quickly turned to anger as he snatched the hat and walked away with an angry snort. As I was about to take it back I noticed another on the ground not too far away. I decided it was too far away and gave up on it altogether.

I looked around and saw that I was in some kind of waiting room. There was a man sitting on a bench filling out paperwork using his leg propped up over the other as a makeshift table. He didn't fool me but apparently fooled himself as he stuck the gum he was chewing underneath. I turned and saw a secretary sitting at her desk. I asked her how to get out of this place and without looking up she tapped the top of her desk pointing at a blank piece of paper laminated to the desk, apparently trying to make herself feel important. I ripped the paper off the desk, spat in it, crumpled it up and threw it at her face. She reached into a file cabinet and pulled out another sheet of paper then slowly and angrily slid it across the top of the desk towards me. I grabbed the paper then sat next to the table legged man and looked it over. It was a sheet with a list of reasons I should be allowed to leave having boxes to check next to each one. Also at the bottom was a larger box with lines in it for me to write some sort of essay on why I should be let out. Not really being a big fan of essays I walked out of the door marked exit.

I looked back at the building once far enough away and saw an old neon sign reading "death" with a flickering "j". I turned around leaving the building to the left of me and continued on my way. I walked by a man that was standing tall, asserting that where he stood was his territory. Though I tried to stay out of his imaginary circle, I must've stepped on the edge for he took a step toward me and puffed out his chest. Not one to back down from a challenge I ran away but when he chased me he forfeited the rights to his circle and so I took it as my own. It didn't fit in my pocket though, so I left it where it was, hoping it would provide a small meal for some rats. I first made it clear to them, however, that the rent was due on the first as to avoid any future conflicts.

Before the rats, I had another patron. He was wearing a black cloak and wore it wrapped completely around himself including the head. He held it closed with his hand which was all I could see of his body. I noticed his hand was missing a finger and it reminded me of the time I lost one of mine. A long time ago I had a fight with "the great ruler of the land", Lord BomVoZwich (pronounced prudence). I was a swordsman at the time and defender of a nation after taking a 6 hour course. He personally challenged me to combat face to face by sending one of his minions to formally invite me to a battle. Never one to refuse a fight I said no. I knew how high the stakes were but accepted anyway because this was only a twice in a lifetime opportunity and if I didn't do it now I would never have a sicond chance, because sicond isn't a word.

I arrived at his castle and took a number at the front desk then sat waiting. I was number 37 and the current number on the projector was 36 1/2. I refused to wait for such a ridiculously long period of time and called for him to come out of hiding and fight me. He refused and so I had to reschedule the appointment. The next day when I returned to the castle he stood there waiting for me, him being the doorman waiting to let me in. I tipped 15% and ran up a spiral staircase to face off against his majesty but had arrived early so I instead waited there leaning on my sword. When Lord BomVoZwich finally arrived he explained that he had trouble with the doorman not letting him in because he wasn't on the list. He apologized for the inconvenience then switched to his battle position. Neither of us wanted to attack first because the person that did would get suspended from school a day longer than the other and I couldn't risk it. He taunted me by saying how he was going to get my lock mandarin pie recipe and I taunted him by calling him by his first name, "Bernard". Neither of us got very worked up but eventually I initiated the fight by complimenting his hair.

 We began swinging at each other. I wondered why my attacks were so ineffective until I realized I wasn't using my sword. I grabbed it just in time to turn around and slice his head clean off, him being one of Bernard's minions. I was distraught because we had a poker game planned that weekend and now I had nothing to do. Bernard took advantage of my distraction and leapt at me. I was barely able to dodge in time but had my pinky finger cut off. He stumbled upon landing, then while catching himself slipped on my finger and impaled himself on his blade. From that day on I gave up on being a swordsman and promised myself I would never fight again. Though I knew I was lying because I refused to look myself in the eye so I gave up on giving up.

 After successfully pawning the circle for much less than it was worth I continued on my journey. I suddenly felt a burst of energy which most likely resulted from the coffee I had declined to drink earlier that day and began sprinting at 3 miles an hour. Feeling half priced as a bird I lost focus and walked a red light, which was the smart thing to do as the bases were loaded and he was a homerun hitter. Normally I would go back and apologize to his mother only for her to tell me she's not the one I need to apologize to, but I'm not normal so I continued running until colliding with a man in slow motion which triggered an altercation. After the camera circled us twice and a disembodied voice yelled ‘Go!’ as his words flashed across the screen, I was disheartened to see I was starting the fight with only half of my health bar remaining.

 I wondered what I could have done recently to lose half a health bar then remembered the bathroom break earlier in which there was much toilet roll squeezing and wall slapping resulting in me getting punched 20 feet for watching a man go about his business. While I was spaced out, the opponent had already attacked me leaving me with only a sliver of health left while in his bar you could still see his entire name. After seeing his name I laughed because he had the weirdest name imaginable, "John". He quit the match because apparently I hurt his little girl feelings, no offense to little girls out there (as if saying that makes a difference). No offense to anyone for that matter, except for wasps. Nobody likes wasps.

 As I watched the man leave with such speed smoke trailed off the ground behind him I thought to myself that this man is horrible for the environment, and did nothing about it. I did however, go to the local diner and order the first woman I saw to make me a sandwich. I wouldn't call me a sexist pig just yet as I only did because the lady was a waitress. Please, I was raised better than that, and after all I am a lady. At least I would hope so, after all, the rest rooms I use do only have stalls, but I am often kicked out and called a pervert.

 On the way I ran into a man named unbinchin. He didn't seem like a bad guy but once again I felt there was something off about him just like the man before, my worst fears were confirmed when I saw his jacket lying on the ground. I would have helped him pick it up but this isn't a charity. Upon having this thought, I realized that nearby there was a charity for rolling children down stairs in folded up boxes. Unsurprisingly they had a huge 2 stair out front and also a ramp. I ran up the stairs 4 at a time until clipping the front of one of my shoes near the top causing me to fall professionally. I base that description off of what I overheard one man say shortly afterward to his friend when he stated that I fell like it was my job. Excited at the thought of a promising new career I ran off to apply.

[bestleftnameless]

Untitled

I live in a fictional town I like to call Paramount. Why do I call it Paramount? Because that's the name of the town. I had friends once. Not to say I don't have them anymore, which I don't, but they don't play a significant role in my tale, which looks fat in these jeans. Why mention something so insignificant? Well who's to say who's insignificant? I am because this is my story. And I know what you’re thinking, though I have no proof, what kind of an ego must I have to answer my own questions? It’s a blue one. As far as introductions go, which is about six meters, I myself am best left nameless. And once more I know what you're thinking, what kind of a middle name is Left? Well it's my mother’s maiden name and my parents felt I should have both of their surnames so it was forcefully thrust upon me at birth fracturing my pelvis resulting in me having to wear a cast for the first 6 weeks of my life.

 So as I silently walk down a foggy street at 9 o’clock FM unlike every other mysterious hero [though I wouldn't call myself a hero (though I just did)], I come upon a man sitting atop a dumpster in an alley. I first notice him when I see the gleam of the knife he has tucked through one of his belt loops. He has glowing red eyes, a long brown coat similar to mine, a top hat, and a knife in his hand. Undoubtedly he is waiting for someone unlike me to walk through the alley so he can cut them and steal the extra button on the inside of their coat. Large does he know, for I store mine in my shoe. He tips his hat to me as if welcoming me to his domain. I do not tip mine to him because I didn’t have a hat which I was glad for as something seemed off about him (which may explain the absence of mosquitoes). He took no notice however, as just then something farther down the alley caught his attention and sent him running after it.

 After seamlessly switching from present to past tense, I continued walking with no destination in mind. Not because I walked for the sake of walking, but because I forgot where I placed my house. How did I forget? Well that's just another question isn't it? As was that last question a question. Point being I don't know because they don't want me to know. And I don't want to be the fool that intentionally questions them and is remembered as the last person to have done so. I think we all remember what happened to that guy.

 After a bit of more walking I pass by a kid playing basketball. He is smart, never letting the ball touch the ground and make noise as to not upset them. Even when the ball hits the backboard and rim, it is silent. This I couldn't think of an explanation for and wanted to ask him. I didn't want to risk waking them, however, so settled for simply tipping my hat to acknowledge his skill and nodded in his direction. He didn't nod back however, because he didn't have a head. So instead he waved forgetting to catch the plummeting basketball. It hit the ground with a soft ping and they had him, the basketball was gone as well. I felt horrible after witnessing what had just transpired for having overestimated the boy’s intelligence. So I continued to walk.

  It had become foggy and I could see a faint light through the mist. It seemed to be beckoning me so I went to it. Just as the fog was clearing it flicked me off, laughed, and disappeared while calling me an asshole. This was disheartening but I never broke stride because it was an antique gift from my grandmother and I would get in so much trouble, it's not even funny. So I continued walking until the day came and while coming to terms with the fact that I may be an unlikable person, cellar doors opened up before me. I saw a faint light at the bottom of the stairs that almost seemed to be beckoning me. Not wanting to once again be insulted by energy I rushed down the stairs after it. I went a little too fast for my own good though, as I stumbled and rolled down the stairs, snapped my neck at the bottom and died.

[bestleftnameless]

I'm new to tumblr. What I know is it's often home to good content shared on other sites, so I'd prefer to be at the source and be shunned by a community of originals than a community of those insulted I didn't share enough when I chose to create. There is no tutorial for this and I'm glad for that as I'm bad at following instructions...though I do hope I amn't breaking rules by sharing my own thoughts as a quote. I regret telling this site I like anime as an interest, I really don't and now all I see are fans of it in my feed. I just like 3 long completed series and beyond that, well drawn fight scene gifs. I don't wish to laud over fictional characters, much less drawn ones, not that others shouldn't feel free to, but I'd prefer not to witness it. ...I prefer to write about the stories in my head of unheard of fictional characters. If you like them, and I hope you like them, then that makes me happy. If you don't like them, feel free to offer no criticism, constructive or otherwise. I'm not aiming to improve my craft or more properly emulate my greater predecessors. I have no end goal beyond sharing my content, I see no light at the end of this tunnel, I'm just telling stories you're free to read or not, to like or not. I'm not a proper writer and I don't aim to change my style in order to be one. This is freedom, telling a story however I want. Don't hurt my feelings because I didn't use a method more properly approved of. This isn't meant to impress anybody, but if it entertains even one, why rob them of what they've come to love? I came here for myself. To share the stories I have to tell because they're doing nothing for anybody trapped in documents on my computer. Why not share what I have to say, just in case someone wants to read it? I hope to stay because others want me to. Sorry if this message seems uptight, I don't think highly of myself or my writing. All I'm asking is that you don't try to make me. Toodles!

bestleftnameless, the writer, not the character