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Another Doomsday...


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[SIZE=1]So, a few months ago I started writing this little story and posting it on here. It got pretty good feedback, but I sort of drifted out of writing it for one reason or another. I recently started looking back through all my old stories and RPs and stuff, seeing if there were any I fancied another crack at, and this one jumped out at me. So I've tweaked the first couple of chapters, which were already written, and I'm going to post them here. However, after the third chapter, it'll be new material.

Hope it's received as well as it was last time. Here goes nothing...


[U][B][FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]Another Doomsday[/FONT]

[/B][/U][B][FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]Chapter One: ...Another Devastation

[/FONT][/B][FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]Life isn't like it is in the movies. We've been brainwashed by Hollywood to believe that all of human existence is entirely dependent on finding your soulmate. That when you find him or her, everything that is wrong in your life will magically become better - your crappy job becomes your dream career, your money worries are suddenly gone, your overbearing bitch of a mother takes the rod out of her arse and relaxes, and suddenly everything is cherry blossoms and fluffy bunnies.

In reality, finding your "soulmate," the person you're destined to end up with, is next to impossible, and even when you've found them, it opens up a whole new can of worms.

I thought I'd found my soulmate three years ago, in a beautiful, intelligent girl named Ellie. She was everything I wanted and more - she could talk for hours about the most interesting things; we liked all the same movies, music and TV shows, and she had this adorable little thing where she twitched her nose when she was thinking. She was tall, but no taller than me, with short, light-brown hair and these amazing sparkling blue eyes, like tiny little sapphires, and slim but not too skinny, with just the right curves. Ellie was, without a doubt, the most perfect girl I had ever met, and I felt lucky every day I was with her. It was incredible even just lying on the sofa with her watching a terrible film on a Sunday afternoon. As cheesy as that all sounds, it was perfect for me.

I thought she felt the same about me - she was the first one to say the L word, she was the one who suggested moving her stuff into my flat, she was even the one to ask me out, not the other way round.

Which is why I was fairly surprised when she said this:

[B]"Scott, I think we need to talk."[/B]


[B]"About what?"[/B] I manage to ask through a mouthful of salted peanuts, and as I did it I regretted it. I realied how gormless I must have looked and sounded, my cheeks stuffed to an amount one would normally only see on a hamster, dressed in an old t-shirt emblazoned with an image of Pete Townshend leaping in the air with his guitar, and jeans ripped simply because I wore them too much, not through any ill-conceived notions of bohemian fashion. A ragged old beanie hat was forced awkwardly down over my muddy-brown locks, I was unshaven and had half a pint of what was supposed to be lager but would have easily passed for urine in my hand.

So I guess she beats me on physical attractiveness.

[B]"About us."[/B]


[B]"I don't think we're working any more, Scott,"[/B] she said, her voice soft and calm, never scathing or aggressive, "I think we're stagnating."
"Stagnating?"[/B] I managed to swallow most of the peanuts, but a few became lodged in my back teeth, and I tried to dislodge them with the tip of my tongue while I listened to Ellie, giving me the appearance of a mawkish idiot.

[B]"We do the same things all the time, Scott,"[/B] she replied, the tiniest hint of anger rising in her voice now, [B]"TV, pub, curry, pub, TV, chinese. I'm young! I should be out at art exhibitions, theatre, clubs, dancing, not wasting my life away in this dingy little pub. To be brutally honest, I'm getting a little bored."[/B]


[B]"But Ellie,"[/B][/FONT][FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode] I said pleadingly, grimacing from the feeling of peanut lumps stuck in my teeth, [B]"If you wanted to do something different, why didn't you just say?"

"I did, Scott, repeatedly. But you were too busy jamming with your idiot friends to listen."

"My friends aren't idiots."

"Oh really? What was the name of the guy who stuck his tongue in an active plug socket, and I quote "for shits and giggles"?"

"Hans,"[/B] I replied after a brief hesistation, taking a swig of cheap, overly-fizzy lager.

[B]"And what's he doing now?"

"He's in a coma."

"How long?"

"Three months."


"Since he stuck his tongue in the plug socket for shits and giggles," [/B]I admitted, feeling beaten down by Ellie's superior mastery of the English language. Or rather, her vastly superior intellect. My friends are idiots.

[B]"Exactly. There's too many problems right now, and I've got a busy time at work coming up. To be honest, it doesn't leave a lot of room for you."

"Ellie, you're a primary school teacher. The busiest you get is when that "special" child sticks Lego up his nose and pushes it until he feels resistance."

"Rudolph has very...unique problems," [/B]she replied, deviating from the topic, then shaking her head and plunging straight back in, [B]"But I really can't be in such a stationary relationship right now. I'm sorry, Scott."[/B]


[B]"Do I get a say in this?"


"Fair enough,"[/B] I concede, too lazy or apathetic or drunk to argue further. I drain what was left of the pint, shuddering as the bitter dregs at the bottom of the glass crossed my tongue.

[B]"I'm going to move my stuff out of your flat as soon as possible."

"Where are you going to stay?"

"I'll sleep on Sarah's couch for a while. Then I might go visit my parents during the summer holidays. I haven't figured it all out yet, Scott."

"Do you have to go straight away? You could stay at ours...at mine for a while if you like."

"I've done the hard part now, Scott. I might as well follow through and move my stuff out as soon as I can."[/B] I nodded. She'd clearly made up her mind, so there was no point trying to change it now. Might as well watch as the inevitable happened.
"I'm sorry, Scott,"[/B] she said sorrowfully, getting to her feet.

She wasn't sorry.

I nodded again, unable to say anything. This wasn't because I was too upset to think of anything. It was simply because I'm too thick to think of anything poignant and beautiful to say to her as our relationship ended. She left, no peck on the cheek, no hug, nothing.

I'm a fucking idiot.


[FONT=Verdana]More details will follow in the next chapter, which on previous advice has been pretty heavily edited. Feedback, suggestions etc. are welcome as always.[/FONT]
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