I did this story for english I need to know if I should continue it.
btw: I'm not a good namer so if anyone has a better name for Joe do speak up. and the lyrics of the song are from My chemical romance's "skylines and turnstiles" from the album "I brought you my bullets you brought me your love."
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Joe lifted a head filled with a burden beyond physical means, looking out the window of his apartment upon the city as the millions of other New Dubliners began the week. The air around him did little to improve the mood that had settled on his life for the past several weeks, the very air laden with sadness and? dog breath? Joe spun around, and looked straight into a gaping throat riddled with razor sharp pearls of teeth. He jumped backwards and knocked the nearest lamp over. ?Well you?re the one who is supposed to brush my teeth, so stop complaining.? The canine rested his muzzle on the windowsill. ?Hooray, another soggy Monday,? griped his dog, Patterson, a gray Labrador with bright eyes and a quick mouth. He blended into the city perfectly with his coat of rough, dimmed silver, which barely shined in the muted light of the overcast sky.
Joe crossed the petite room to the dresser, where the hundreds of nonsensical letters from his insane cousin, sentenced with capital punishment for the brutal killing of a young lawyer were piled up. The letters had come in sets of five until the wisdom of the electric chair finally silenced the cousin forever. A grotesque image fell into Joe?s mind as his eyes crossed over the letters. A small room with crimson stained walls??No please not again.? Joe pleaded with his mind. But the image stayed. Looking down to the crumpled mass on the floor?Joe gagged and forced the memory out, but it stood firm. A body lying on the concrete, with the face twisted into its last death stare? Joe focused and cleared his head, narrowing all his thoughts on the glass of three-day old milk sitting on the desk.
Odd how that after three months, the vivid image of the murder scene still haunted him at it?s caprice. Even though he hadn?t given the fatal stroke? Joe pushed the thought from his mind, and slid the I-pod headphones in his ears. The song started up where it had left off the day before: ??into your heart. That's if you've still got one that's left inside that cave you call a chest. And after seeing what we saw, can we still reclaim our innocence?? Joe ripped the headphones from his ears. Nothing seemed to leave him alone these days.
Joe stepped out onto the small street in front of the smudged black apartment building, leash in hand. The most noticeable thing about New Dublin was that none of it was new. The mysterious, morose city sat between two mountains rising straight out of the ground like a banker coming for a house with unpaid mortgage. The sun shone on the city one hour a day, noon, which the equally morbid residents spent sleeping with all the windows shuttered, and that was when the sky wasn?t blotted out by the regular blanket of dark gray cotton balls. Silent residents passed by Joe, each of their long, black, dirty coats sweeping by him. Everyone here wore black. Old, rotting, black cloaks, with the rich wearing a more stylish black leather, which matched the dark walls and grotesque art shops scattered all over the city. It could get to you after a while. Joe received odd looks in his bright spring colors, like a garden in a morgue. It was May after all.
Jun 03, 2008 @ 01:33:58
