So now that Sebastian Jericho is back in play, I am inspired to continue his back-story, plus I wanted to write another pure dialogue story, so this was a good excuse. Here's Part II.
Stupid Rich, Stupid Famous II
The following was recorded by Doctor Curtis McGregor and reviewed by the District Court as per the conditions of the deal between the Prosecution and Defendant, Sebastian Jericho.
Sebastian Jericho Therapy Session #1: Present are Doctor McGregor and Sebastian Jericho.
“So tell me doc, isn’t this the very same office where that one guy swan dived out the window and caused his therapist to go batshit?”
“Sebastian...”
“Cause I gotta tell you, that kinda puts a damper on this whole ‘let’s open up and share our feelings’ thing we got here. Like a black cloud you know?”
“Sebastian please sit down...”
“You’re not gonna go all loopy on me are you doc? Like this office isn’t cursed or anything is it?”
“Sebastian...”
“Although if I went nuts and leapt out the window then I wouldn’t have to do this god awful court ordered deal I got going.”
“Please just...”
“Then again, if I went out the window, who’d sing all my songs? Who’d entertain my millions and millions of fans? They are a greedy bunch, and I don’t blame them. I’ve been giving them the best music in history for years and now they’re just used to it I guess.”
“SEBASTIAN SIT DOWN!”
“...”
“I’m sorry...”
“You know you’re pretty touchy. Maybe you need therapy.”
“I apologise, it’s just that...”
“You know what doc? It’s your lucky day, because Sebastian Jericho is in session. So go on, tell me what’s on your mind. What’s in your heart?”
“Oh god...”
“Come on don’t shut me out. I’m only trying to help you sort yourself out.”
“Sebastian we should be talking about you, not me.”
“Really? Cause I’m way over here in the land of sane people, and you’re way over there in loony land. Hey what’s the weather like over there? Raining, I bet.”
“Sebastian this is really...”
“Stupid? A waste of time? Useless? Totally unnecessary? I agree. Don’t get up doc, I’ll show myself out. See ya!”
Monday, November 30, 2009
Friday, November 20, 2009
Stupid Rich, Stupid Famous
Stupid Rich, Stupid Famous
Just for the record, I don’t need therapy. I also think this whole journal business is bullshit. Believe me if it wasn’t court ordered I would be having none of it.
But that’s what you get when you’re a mega celebrity and you get caught doing something very stupid, and I have been doing a lot of very stupid things recently. Drugs, booze, driving way too fast, partying way too hard, basically all those really fun things that you should only really do every once in a blue moon. Except I’ve been doing them nearly every day.
For anyone reading this that isn’t me, first of all how the hell did you find this? Seriously?
Either I’m dead or the paparazzi have really stepped their game up. Not sure which would be worse. Anyways, this is Sebastian Jericho.
Yeah that’s right, pause a sec and catch your breath, let that sink in.
The Sebastian Jericho.
If you’ve been living under a rock or something then I’ll explain.
I am the lead singer and co-founder of one of the best musical acts in the world, I have more money than your entire family line combined, I own so many clubs and bars that I don’t even know where they all are anymore, and I have more screaming fans then all the douche vampire actors put together.
So yeah I’m pretty famous.
It was any other day I guess, I was heading to my hotel room after doing a brief concert, swimming through the swarms of fans and photographers and whoever the hell else, when someone yelled out that the band sucked ever since my wife left.
So I knocked him the fuck out.
Before you think my reaction was a little extreme, let me clarify. Thing is, my wife of ten years, co-founder and the band’s other lead singer, died in a plane crash last year when she was coming back from some overseas promoting.
So yeah, forgive me if maybe my music has changed a little and the band has lost one of the most defining voices of all time.
Turns out though, that the police don’t like it when you go all ape shit on a guy and it gets captured by every media device there is, even when you have a good excuse.
Thus I have to go to therapy, and do this stupid journal in which I am supposed to chronicle my day’s events until such a time when the court deems it prudent to stop.
Their words, not mine.
I’m sitting in the waiting room writing this actually, so it’s kinda two birds with one stone I guess. We’ll see how it goes, couldn’t be worse than jail right?
I should have taken the jail time.
Damn it.
Just for the record, I don’t need therapy. I also think this whole journal business is bullshit. Believe me if it wasn’t court ordered I would be having none of it.
But that’s what you get when you’re a mega celebrity and you get caught doing something very stupid, and I have been doing a lot of very stupid things recently. Drugs, booze, driving way too fast, partying way too hard, basically all those really fun things that you should only really do every once in a blue moon. Except I’ve been doing them nearly every day.
For anyone reading this that isn’t me, first of all how the hell did you find this? Seriously?
Either I’m dead or the paparazzi have really stepped their game up. Not sure which would be worse. Anyways, this is Sebastian Jericho.
Yeah that’s right, pause a sec and catch your breath, let that sink in.
The Sebastian Jericho.
If you’ve been living under a rock or something then I’ll explain.
I am the lead singer and co-founder of one of the best musical acts in the world, I have more money than your entire family line combined, I own so many clubs and bars that I don’t even know where they all are anymore, and I have more screaming fans then all the douche vampire actors put together.
So yeah I’m pretty famous.
It was any other day I guess, I was heading to my hotel room after doing a brief concert, swimming through the swarms of fans and photographers and whoever the hell else, when someone yelled out that the band sucked ever since my wife left.
So I knocked him the fuck out.
Before you think my reaction was a little extreme, let me clarify. Thing is, my wife of ten years, co-founder and the band’s other lead singer, died in a plane crash last year when she was coming back from some overseas promoting.
So yeah, forgive me if maybe my music has changed a little and the band has lost one of the most defining voices of all time.
Turns out though, that the police don’t like it when you go all ape shit on a guy and it gets captured by every media device there is, even when you have a good excuse.
Thus I have to go to therapy, and do this stupid journal in which I am supposed to chronicle my day’s events until such a time when the court deems it prudent to stop.
Their words, not mine.
I’m sitting in the waiting room writing this actually, so it’s kinda two birds with one stone I guess. We’ll see how it goes, couldn’t be worse than jail right?
I should have taken the jail time.
Damn it.
Monday, November 9, 2009
The New House Epilogue
“So this isn’t so bad so far huh?” I said, trying to muster courage I didn’t feel.
Carla just gave me a blank look and shook her head.
I sighed and we continued working our way slowly toward the basement. The house was wrecked. The walls were cracked and crumbling, the roof looked like it would come down any minute, and the air was thick and heavy, like we were walking through a jungle.
This obviously wasn’t my house anymore, and now I was beginning to realize that it never really was.
We worked our way to the basement door before we stopped.
“This is it,” Carla said, taking my hand in hers. “You ready?”
I sighed and shook my head. “No, not even close. But I kinda have to be huh?”
She nodded and tried to smile. “I could take the gun if you want, you don’t have to do this.”
“What? Of course I do, you're only here because I got you into this remember?”
She nodded. “So are you ready then?”
“I...” I grinned. She had given me strength, yet again. “Yeah, I am.”
Together, we turned the handle on the door and swung it open, and proceeded down the stairs.
As bad as the air was upstairs it was a thousand times worse down here. It felt like we were underwater, and breathing down here was difficult to say the least.
The creature was making no attempt to hide itself. Leaning against the wall on the other side of the room, it turned its gaze to us and grinned ear to ear.
It was all I could do not to bolt. My body and mind were both screaming at me to get the hell out of there, that this was easily the dumbest thing I had ever done, that if we didn’t run far far away we would never leave this basement.
Carla gripped my hand, enough to hurt but it snapped me out of my near panic. I couldn’t go anywhere. Not with her with me. Here and now we would finish this.
The creature skulked toward us and I could see that it was pretty banged up. Large holes were blown through it, proving that the creature had no real body to speak of; it seemed to be made up of thick black ooze. The holes were slowly closing up though.
Cam had really had it out with this thing.
The creature was close now, its yellow eyes were gazing into mine, and though it seemed too injured to stand at its full height, it still towered over me.
“Ian...” Carla hissed, squeezing my hand.
The creature edged closer, its claws outstretching, and I knew I should run, move, shoot, do something but, looking into its eyes, I felt no danger. It was like I was falling into some sort of trance.
“Ian shoot it!” She was yelling at me, I think, but she sounded so far away.
My hands went limp, and the shotgun clattered to the floor.
The creature’s inky darkness surrounded me, and all went black.
I saw a five year old boy, curled up beneath the stairs, shaking with the cold. All he had was a tiny locket, which he clutched to his chest.
I saw the door open and the boy rushing to the light, felt his glimmer of hope, only to have a plate of scraps thrown to the floor and the door slammed in his face, covering him in darkness again.
I saw the boy crying for what seemed like forever.
I saw the door open less and less, until it stopped opening completely.
I saw him wasting away, getting thinner and thinner, weaker and weaker.
I saw the little boy, curled up beneath the stairs shaking with the cold, until he finally stopped. I knew he wouldn’t move again.
“Let him go!”
The shot was deafening and the creature threw its head back and howled with pain, releasing me from its grasp. I fell to the floor with a thud, trying to sort what I had seen.
Were those...was it showing me its memories?
I picked myself up and looked around, trying to get my bearings. The creature had recovered and charged at Carla, who quickly leapt out of the way. Carla aimed the shotgun at its head, and I could see her about to pull the trigger.
I had yelled before I even knew it.
“Stop!”
Too late.
The shot rang out and the creature howled in pain again, its clawed hand covering the wound as it fell to the floor. Later I would marvel at how good a shot she was, but for now all I could see was that little boy in so much pain.
I raced to the stairs and looked behind them; my hand groping in the darkness for what I knew would be there.
The locket. Found it.
I ran over to the creature, and knelt beside it.
“Ian what are you doing?!” Carla yelled. “Get away from it!”
“Here,” I said, showing the boy his locket. “You need to break this; it’s the only way you'll be free.”
The boy’s eyes met mine, and I could see tears welling in them, while I realized I was crying too.
The boy shook his head softly, and I could see he was trying to speak.
Suddenly I understood. He couldn’t. As much as he may want to, he couldn’t destroy the locket alone. He needed me.
That was why showed himself to me, why he let me in the basement and no one else, why he came to my room.
For Christ’s sake he was just a five year old boy. He was a five year old boy, and while he had attacked my parents, Cam, and whoever else, in me, he saw a friend.
“We can do it together,” I said, placing the locket in his open hand. “And you can go. You won't be stuck down in this basement anymore.”
The boy was crying now, and nodded slowly.
I closed my hand over his, and felt the locket crack, and finally break.
He smiled, and closed his eyes. His body sank into the shadows that formed him, and the inky blackness quickly enveloped the walls, the floor, the ceiling, covering everything but us.
Then just as suddenly, it was gone, and the air was suddenly normal.
I turned to Carla, who was watching me with tears in her eyes.
“He’s gone.”
“He...?” She said softly, “Ian what happened?”
“I’ll tell you later,” I said, standing up. “I promise I will, but for now, I just need a bit of time. Besides we should go see how Cam is doing.”
She nodded but I knew she wouldn’t let this go. Which was fine, It would probably help to talk to her about it anyway.
We walked upstairs and almost couldn’t process what we saw.
The house was normal. Like completely back to normal, maybe better even. It was just like it was.
We headed outside, and got another shock. I was way overdue for a heart attack at this rate.
“For the last time get the hell off of my property you filthy hobo!” My dad yelled, giving Cam a stiff shove. My mom was trying to calm him down, and Cam seemed to be trying to explain...well I had no idea what he was saying but my dad clearly wasn’t buying it.
I had never been happier in my life.
I grabbed Carla and held her tightly, taking in the love in her eyes and the happiness of her smile before she leaned up and kissed me.
So after a long and awkward conversation with my parents about how I knew Cam, (I told them he was the hobo in the basement, and that I was right and there, in fact, was somebody in the basement this whole time,) things went back to normal. Better than normal in fact.
My parents didn’t remember a thing about what had happened. They remembered right up until just before they got attacked, then as far as they were concerned the next moment they were yelling at Cam to quit skulking around our lawn.
I told Carla about what the boy had shown me, and she went with me to the library where we looked through old newspapers and online databases, trying to find out whatever we could about him. Very little information turned up, unfortunately. All we were able to find out was that the body of a small boy was found under the stairs nearly fifty years ago, two years after the house was abandoned.
They said his name was Conner.
It was something I suppose, but I had hoped for more. I wanted to know why, and it really bothered me that the answer eluded me. It bothered me that it had happened in the first place, and it bothered me that whoever kept him locked in the basement didn’t get caught.
Carla gave me the strength I needed to help lay Conner’s soul to rest though, and I can’t imagine how it would have turned out if she hadn’t been there. We stayed together throughout high school, and though our relationship has had its ups and downs, we are still together today, with no end in sight.
Actually on that note, I have been playing with a ring in my pocket for a while now, and Carla just told me she’s pregnant. I have never been happier.
We’ve already decided that if it’s a boy, we know what we are going to name him.
Carla just gave me a blank look and shook her head.
I sighed and we continued working our way slowly toward the basement. The house was wrecked. The walls were cracked and crumbling, the roof looked like it would come down any minute, and the air was thick and heavy, like we were walking through a jungle.
This obviously wasn’t my house anymore, and now I was beginning to realize that it never really was.
We worked our way to the basement door before we stopped.
“This is it,” Carla said, taking my hand in hers. “You ready?”
I sighed and shook my head. “No, not even close. But I kinda have to be huh?”
She nodded and tried to smile. “I could take the gun if you want, you don’t have to do this.”
“What? Of course I do, you're only here because I got you into this remember?”
She nodded. “So are you ready then?”
“I...” I grinned. She had given me strength, yet again. “Yeah, I am.”
Together, we turned the handle on the door and swung it open, and proceeded down the stairs.
As bad as the air was upstairs it was a thousand times worse down here. It felt like we were underwater, and breathing down here was difficult to say the least.
The creature was making no attempt to hide itself. Leaning against the wall on the other side of the room, it turned its gaze to us and grinned ear to ear.
It was all I could do not to bolt. My body and mind were both screaming at me to get the hell out of there, that this was easily the dumbest thing I had ever done, that if we didn’t run far far away we would never leave this basement.
Carla gripped my hand, enough to hurt but it snapped me out of my near panic. I couldn’t go anywhere. Not with her with me. Here and now we would finish this.
The creature skulked toward us and I could see that it was pretty banged up. Large holes were blown through it, proving that the creature had no real body to speak of; it seemed to be made up of thick black ooze. The holes were slowly closing up though.
Cam had really had it out with this thing.
The creature was close now, its yellow eyes were gazing into mine, and though it seemed too injured to stand at its full height, it still towered over me.
“Ian...” Carla hissed, squeezing my hand.
The creature edged closer, its claws outstretching, and I knew I should run, move, shoot, do something but, looking into its eyes, I felt no danger. It was like I was falling into some sort of trance.
“Ian shoot it!” She was yelling at me, I think, but she sounded so far away.
My hands went limp, and the shotgun clattered to the floor.
The creature’s inky darkness surrounded me, and all went black.
****
I saw a five year old boy, curled up beneath the stairs, shaking with the cold. All he had was a tiny locket, which he clutched to his chest.
I saw the door open and the boy rushing to the light, felt his glimmer of hope, only to have a plate of scraps thrown to the floor and the door slammed in his face, covering him in darkness again.
I saw the boy crying for what seemed like forever.
I saw the door open less and less, until it stopped opening completely.
I saw him wasting away, getting thinner and thinner, weaker and weaker.
I saw the little boy, curled up beneath the stairs shaking with the cold, until he finally stopped. I knew he wouldn’t move again.
****
“Let him go!”
The shot was deafening and the creature threw its head back and howled with pain, releasing me from its grasp. I fell to the floor with a thud, trying to sort what I had seen.
Were those...was it showing me its memories?
I picked myself up and looked around, trying to get my bearings. The creature had recovered and charged at Carla, who quickly leapt out of the way. Carla aimed the shotgun at its head, and I could see her about to pull the trigger.
I had yelled before I even knew it.
“Stop!”
Too late.
The shot rang out and the creature howled in pain again, its clawed hand covering the wound as it fell to the floor. Later I would marvel at how good a shot she was, but for now all I could see was that little boy in so much pain.
I raced to the stairs and looked behind them; my hand groping in the darkness for what I knew would be there.
The locket. Found it.
I ran over to the creature, and knelt beside it.
“Ian what are you doing?!” Carla yelled. “Get away from it!”
“Here,” I said, showing the boy his locket. “You need to break this; it’s the only way you'll be free.”
The boy’s eyes met mine, and I could see tears welling in them, while I realized I was crying too.
The boy shook his head softly, and I could see he was trying to speak.
Suddenly I understood. He couldn’t. As much as he may want to, he couldn’t destroy the locket alone. He needed me.
That was why showed himself to me, why he let me in the basement and no one else, why he came to my room.
For Christ’s sake he was just a five year old boy. He was a five year old boy, and while he had attacked my parents, Cam, and whoever else, in me, he saw a friend.
“We can do it together,” I said, placing the locket in his open hand. “And you can go. You won't be stuck down in this basement anymore.”
The boy was crying now, and nodded slowly.
I closed my hand over his, and felt the locket crack, and finally break.
He smiled, and closed his eyes. His body sank into the shadows that formed him, and the inky blackness quickly enveloped the walls, the floor, the ceiling, covering everything but us.
Then just as suddenly, it was gone, and the air was suddenly normal.
I turned to Carla, who was watching me with tears in her eyes.
“He’s gone.”
“He...?” She said softly, “Ian what happened?”
“I’ll tell you later,” I said, standing up. “I promise I will, but for now, I just need a bit of time. Besides we should go see how Cam is doing.”
She nodded but I knew she wouldn’t let this go. Which was fine, It would probably help to talk to her about it anyway.
We walked upstairs and almost couldn’t process what we saw.
The house was normal. Like completely back to normal, maybe better even. It was just like it was.
We headed outside, and got another shock. I was way overdue for a heart attack at this rate.
“For the last time get the hell off of my property you filthy hobo!” My dad yelled, giving Cam a stiff shove. My mom was trying to calm him down, and Cam seemed to be trying to explain...well I had no idea what he was saying but my dad clearly wasn’t buying it.
I had never been happier in my life.
I grabbed Carla and held her tightly, taking in the love in her eyes and the happiness of her smile before she leaned up and kissed me.
****
So after a long and awkward conversation with my parents about how I knew Cam, (I told them he was the hobo in the basement, and that I was right and there, in fact, was somebody in the basement this whole time,) things went back to normal. Better than normal in fact.
My parents didn’t remember a thing about what had happened. They remembered right up until just before they got attacked, then as far as they were concerned the next moment they were yelling at Cam to quit skulking around our lawn.
I told Carla about what the boy had shown me, and she went with me to the library where we looked through old newspapers and online databases, trying to find out whatever we could about him. Very little information turned up, unfortunately. All we were able to find out was that the body of a small boy was found under the stairs nearly fifty years ago, two years after the house was abandoned.
They said his name was Conner.
It was something I suppose, but I had hoped for more. I wanted to know why, and it really bothered me that the answer eluded me. It bothered me that it had happened in the first place, and it bothered me that whoever kept him locked in the basement didn’t get caught.
Carla gave me the strength I needed to help lay Conner’s soul to rest though, and I can’t imagine how it would have turned out if she hadn’t been there. We stayed together throughout high school, and though our relationship has had its ups and downs, we are still together today, with no end in sight.
Actually on that note, I have been playing with a ring in my pocket for a while now, and Carla just told me she’s pregnant. I have never been happier.
We’ve already decided that if it’s a boy, we know what we are going to name him.
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