Short stories without plot or proofreader, moved Anonymous 2011/07/30 (Sat) 16:07 No. 40 ▼ File 131204204393.jpg - (46.22KB, 1000x1240 , You said what.jpg)
Nice. Honestly, nice job. Not only you lost the group, you also lost yourself.
"Ya quelqu'un, bordel?" ("Someone here?")
And you know that nobody's going to answer that, do you? Nobody. You're all alone, in a forest. You can't help but think it was a really, really bad idea. Going to Japan with your friends was a good idea, yeah. Stopping to piss wasn't one.
"Merde, merde, merde." ("Dang.")
And to make the whole thing worse, you're tired, your right foot hurts you so much you're pretty sure it's bloody and grazed. And you're pretty sure that night will come soon.
"PUTAIN DE MERDE!? ("Dammit.")
You're swearing. Totally useless, of course. But you feel less frustrated this way. If you had someone else to blame, you would be even less frustrated. But you can't blame anyone but you. Seriously. You wanted to leave the group, and have a nice break. It's your own fault. You can't do anything about that.
?"a n'empéche pas que e a me fait grave chier, bordel de chiottes!" ("I can't help but being annoyed.")
Just keep walking. With enough luck, you may find some old ruined shelter. Hell, in your current state, even a bench is enough. You just want to sit on something clean, without getting dirt or mud on your pants. As if there's something this clean in this dirty, wet, and dark forest.
"Comme si "a allait m'empécher de chercher. Rien que pour emmerder le destin, je vais continuer." ("Never gonna give up.")
Ha-ah! You can see something! A very large building! Of course, it's difficult to have a precise idea, since you're in a forest, the night is falling, and the building is quite grim too.
"Et merde, je vais arriver chez la famille Adams." ("That nice building seems quite ancient.")
Well, you don't have any choice, right? You should enter. After all, you're a man! You're not afraid of no ghost! Yeah! You walk to the building in a manly way, you manly put your hand on the door, and... you notice there's no handle.
"C'est quoi c'délire? Sont trop radasses pour faire des poignées ces branleurs?" ("I do believe the noble art of creating handle is ignored in Japan.")
You can't let yourself being distracted by such a little thing at this point. You manly decide to force the door, pretty sure that you're not intruding in a private building. Well, you ARE intruding. And you ARE in a private building, quite obviously. However, the said private building is abandoned. Therefore, nobody's going to ask you to get the fuck out if you decide to squat for a while.
No pain, no gain. And since it's really painful to move in that old, dark, and dirty building, you hope that the reward will worth it. Reward, like, BEING FOUND TOMORROW! IT WOULD BE SUCH A GOOD REWARD!! ISN'T IT?
"Putaaiinn... Passer la nuit dans ce nid d'araignées, je les retiens, les voyages au Japan." ("For God's sake, I swear I just saw a spider.")
You finally find a not-so-dirty spot. Hell, you really don't want to sleep here, but it's not like you have any choice. You remove your jacket, you roll it to make some kind of leather pillow, and you lay down. Time to sleep. Anyyyyyyy time.
*CRAC*
JUST THE WOOD! That's just the wood. Right? Right! Jut the wood. Sleep. Sleep.
After an undefined amount of time, you finally fall asleep. When you open your eyes, you notice you're sleeping on a mattress, with a blanket over your body, and a young girl next to you.
? Hold on. A young girl?
"Nom d'un pot de moutarde!? ("Wow!?)
And she's fairly cute in her own way. Black hair, white skin, and a nice figure. Too bad she's sleeping. Or too good. You think you heard about that before. There's a japanese legend saying that if you sleep in some place, you'll wake up in paradise. Which means that in front of you is probably the maiden of paradise, or something like that.
"Bon sang, c'est trop beau pour "tre vrai, c'est forc"ment un r"ve." ("It's a dream.")
Your excited voice wakes up the girl. She blinks several times, see you... and scream.
"Et merde." ("Oops.")
Even if it's a dream, you don't really want to be caught in bed with a young girl. That's just illegal. And that reflex probably saved your dream. Because, you see, right were you are, there's now a hole. Yes, there's a hole in the floor. You're not sure how it happened, but dreams aren't making sense, right? So you just give up on logic and run away.
This is a dream. No discussion. The building is no longer dirty, even if it's still quite old and damaged. Lack of maintenance, most probably. It's a wonder that thing is still up, by the way. But maybe you can examine it later, no? Because, right now, there's a little girl throwing balls at you. Yes, she's a real cutie, but that doesn't mean you want to kiss her balls.
? That pun was awful and you should feel awful.
Running from the building, you arrive in an unknown place. Sure, it looks like where you were before, but... something's different.
"Ya beaucoup moins d'arbres. Et ce bidule n'était pas l? avant." ("Less trees. And that thingy wasn't here before.")
Thingy meaning in this case: "huge red - door?" You're not really sure. One thing for sure. There's a little girl right behind you, trying to bury her balls in your face. And you don't want that to happen, even in your dream. So you run under the huge red thing.
You're not sure where you are, but you're still dreaming. Why else would you be in a dark place, surrounded by eyes watching every move of you? That kind of thing can't happen. Unless you're on drugs. And you're not. Which means you're probably-
Standing, in front of the ruined building, under the sun.
"Qu'est-ce-que... J'ai foutu quoi hier soir, merde?" ("Oh, my, what a horrible night.")
You look around. Yes, that's the building. The one you entered yesterday. Were you sleepwalking or something?
Giving up, you decide you were just having a bad dream. Putting your jacket on your back, you sit under the old porch, waiting for help to come. You don't have to wait long, a car quickly stop near, and your friends are arriving.
"Tu nous a fait peur, mec!? ("I-it's not like I was worried about you...")
"J'ai failli prévenir les poulets!" ("It's not like I was going to call the cops for you...")
You smile, and you simply tell them you slept in the building behind you. After many laugh and stories, you leave the place with your friends.
It's only several days later, when you're back in your hometown, that you notice a little paper folded in your jacket's pocket. You quickly open it, only to read in a perfect english:
"It was fun. Come back when you feel like it."
Yeeeeeaaaaahhhhh. So it wasn't really a dream. You're probably not going back. Probably. That girl was a real cutie. Really.