M Y S T I C�� T A C O�� S T A N D

The First Time ... September 11, 2004

(so i wrote a plot that i hope to someday do up as a weird little animation. it probably sucks, but here it is for your reading displeasure, nonetheless. i suggest you try to visualize this as you read it because that's how i imagine it. and oh yeah, this is based on something that really happened to me, by the way. well, everything but that last part...)

The First Time

Closeup - black pencil writes "S..." on a sheet of blank notebook paper

Self (voiceover) : Something's inside me. I couldn't tell you what it is, but I do know how it got there.

Closeup - side view of the lit end of a cigarette

Scene change - airplane window with view of clouds and blue sky, people talking quietly in the background

Self (voiceover) : I tried so hard to hide my true nature when I was younger. I was convinced it was unnatural. I made myself follow the trends. I listened to the music that I was suppossed to. I made my mother buy me overpriced cloths at the mall. As a normal American youth, I experienced the typical teenage angst, just as the TV told me I should.

Closeup - back to the cigarette

Scene change - back to the plane window, a black haired and pale girl leans forward and is reflected on the glass

Self (voiceover) : This is me. (pause) despite my effort, people saw through my facade. I was always just different somehow. Perhaps this is the reason I was chosen. Perhaps it was chance.

Scene - a semitransparent sphere of flame arcs through the sky, coming into view from the right and curving straight towards the window, the girl's reflection focuses on it

Girl : What?

Self (voiceover) : I didn't know what to think when I first saw it. I was paralyzed with confusion. I was surprised that no one else seemed to notice that anything was happening.

Scene - ball of flame gathers speed and grows larger as it approaches, it passes through the window and smashes into the face of the viewer, everything turns blood red and we hear paniced breathing, the view whips around suddenly and we see a stocky boy with brown hair in the next seat over as he looks up from his newspaper

Boy : Are you alright, honey?

Girl : Yeah. I...I gotta go to the bathroom.

Scene - triumpant laughter echoes too loudly to be real, view jitters around as she makes her way down the row and into the aisle, things are stained red, faces of fellow passengers morph and bleed into demonic grins, a male steward in the aisle looks concerned and allows us to pass as we make our way to the back of the plane

Self (voiceover) : Only women know. It's yet another one of those secrets we keep tucked away in the warm recesses of our psyches. As if we had a choice to keep it to ourselves. No. There is simply no way to explain. These secrets are beyond language, or below it.

Closeup - pencil writes "PRIMAL" on notebook paper

Closeup - a red tinted door reads "Vacant", the door opens inward to pitch blackness, we watch from behind as the girl steps though the threshold and is enveloped in darkness so thick, it seems to have real subtance, the airplane scene fades to black

Closeup - cigarette smoked down to the filter is stubbed out

Scene change - back to black

Self (voiceover) : Yes, something's inside me, wriggling like a parasitic worm, wrapping its searching tendrils of thought around my vulnerable little soul, even as we speak. It's decidedly male, foreign, not me. Not yet anyways. I catch myself, more and more as time goes on, submitting to its will. Soon, it will BE me. (pause) The spirits are gathering. I see them everywhere I go now.

Scene change - a black dog with blank, glowing white eyes approaches stealthily down a dark alleyway, unsubstantiated voices whisper from points unseen, chanting too quietly for us to understand what they say

Closeup - cigarette being lit

Self (voiceover) : Vultures. They wait, circling ever closer. They crouch like greedy little dogs beneath the master's table, eyeing his meal, hoping to snatch a morsel if he looks away, waiting for the halfeaten corpse of my soul to be tossed to them so they can gorge.

Scene change - back to black

Self (voiceover) : Once it has me, the gestation period will be complete. I know that much. I am merely a vessel, a crysalis for this SOMETHING. Even now it rattles my soul like so many prison bars. Soon it will burst forth from me and kick this dead shell aside. Ungrateful child.

Scene - pencil writes on notebook paper along with final voiceover

Self (voiceover) : The long penetration is nearing its end. What will become of my offspring? I doubt I will be in any condition to see.

Scene change - a quick flash, no longer than two seconds, of the girl, her head being ripped in two as if it were made of soft rubber,a short sound snippet of her scream, cut off, the eyes and two hands of an exact replica of herself can be seen though the gore as it emerges, two balls of flame rocket off

Closeup - a cigarette falls in slow motion onto a red carpet and burns a hole

Scene change - black

The End

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