[Writing] D&R: Answers

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Part 3 of the D&R Saga

Genre: Decline

Word Count: 3478. Easily the longest of the series thus far, and I wouldn't have made it this long, but with the rules and challenge having established different word limits (2000-3000), I was a bit confused on what to do with the length. I decided to go with 3000+, since this part is meant to explain how Allen got to where he is currently and all the mysteries surrounding him.

NOTE: This story contains graphic language, mature and possibly upsetting/offensive content, and deals thoroughly with the mentality of a major character. Therefore, some portions may be shocking to readers and might trigger some deep thought.


Story
Spoiler for:
So here we are now.

I'm in jail, all of my loved ones are dead, and I'm slowly decaying. Slowly decaying into a broken man. The person I wanted to be shall be no more soon enough... and I, ironically, have no one to blame but myself. However, since we have gotten to this point, it's high time that I started explaining some things. My decline didn't just happen out of nowhere, you know.

My downfall to insanity started after I graduated from college, as I've said before. I was walking home to get ready for a trip to Applebee's, and I picked up the paper at the end of my driveway. I saw that my uncle was released from prison.

...yeah, let's backtrack a tad...

This 'uncle' of mine, Uncle Carter, is (or was) a man I looked up to, and was arguably my major role model in life. He was a WW2 veteran, so he's a rather hardened fellow, but that didn't stop him from loving our family deeply. He's come over for every holiday, graduated and major event in our lives, and my college graduation, of course, is no different.

I walked in, greeted my family, including my uncle, then walked upstairs to get ready. After a while, my uncle came in.

"Hey, squirt", he said playfully. "Hey, Uncle Carter", I said back, as we exchanged playful punches to the arms and hugs.

"Can I have a talk with you right quick before I get ready to go down with ya'll, son?"

"Sure, man". We sat down on my bed, getting comfortable as he begins.

"You know that feeling in life where you just... want somethin'... but it's outta yer grasp? Like, say you want Black Ops, but you can't afford it 'cus it's still 50 dollars. You want it BADLY regardless, though, and you wait for just the right moment to get it. Time is the essence to pleasure, and you take advantage of that time. Y'feel me?"

"I... think so, Carter"

"Give it some thought, buddy. Might save yer ass one day", he said playfully, as we once again exchanged playful punches and hugs. He then went downstairs to get ready.

While we were driving downtown to Applebee's, I deeply pondered what my uncle said. What exactly did he mean by that? What compelled him to say it to me? This raised more questions than answers, and by the time we got into the lobby, waiting for our table, I wanted plenty of answers.

As we sat down (I sat down next to Carter), ordered our food and exchanged conversation for a while, I began to ask questions. "Uncle Carter... what did you mean by what you said?".

"...you'll find out in due time, Allen"

"See, though, that's not good enough. You come in, preaching all this thought-provoking shit, and I'm simply left to ponder what it all means. Why did you come to me to say all this? Do ya mind giving me answers at some point, or would you rather just leave me stumped?"

"You'll find out in due time, my dear nephew", then he kissed me on the forehead. I just silently ate my salad. When we were all finished a half hour or so later, I announced that I'd be going to the bathroom...

...and then I see a hand grab me and drag me outside into a back alley. "WHAT THE FUCK? HELP! HELP!". I, thankfully, got the attention of a few civilians in time and they ran over to help. The mysterious figure, however, threw me against a dumpster and beat them all to death, suspiciously, with mixed martial arts akin to what they teach you to defend yourself in the military.

My pants were pulled down as the dark figure unhooked his belt and unzipped his jeans. I then started getting raped as I desperately continued to yell for help, and after a few seconds, an officer walked by, noticed me and ran over to rescue me. He managed to separate me from the strange man, and he handcuffed him.

"Sir, you are under arrest for raping an innocent civilian", and the officer turned to me and said "Son, it's okay, we'll take this cretin to court. He won't be bothering you ever again". Tearfully, I said "T-thank you..."...but then I noticed who was being handcuffed.

"...UNCLE CARTER?!"

He looked at me with an extremely depraved look on his face. "Y'got that right, you little pussy. You're such a fuckin' hard-on, y'know that? Walking around all handsome, well-adjusted and shit... I guess I should've told you that I raped my war buddies into shape back then. Sure, it was messed up, but the general was the first of the bunch I did it to, so he couldn't prevent anything! Aha, life's a bitch ain't it, so-", but the police officer slapped him across the face before he could finish and said "Shut it. You're going to be under arrest for a looooong time, Carter" as he dragged him off to his car.

Quickly, I ran back inside, told my family the news, and they immediately drove me home after paying. My dad put me in a support group before I knew it. "I'm still incredibly sorry your uncle turned out the way he did, Allen... this was undoubtedly traumatic on your end, I'm sure...".

"It WAS, dad... you got no idea what it's like to see the man you worshiped betray you like this. I think I'm going to be scarred for life."

"I don't blame you at all, son... c'mere", he said, motioning for a long hug as I started weeping. "I hope you know that I'm every bit as angry at him as you are... my own brother, sexually abusing my kid. Wh-what the fuck is wrong with him?", he said angrily as he stroked my hair. "I never want to see him again, dad. Ever", I said with tears pouring down my eyes. I then got to eat my favorite dinner, steak and beans, before bed.

My uncle faced trial and was imprisoned for an unknown period of time. He still denied any effects that could surmise from his actions, but everyone, including me, knew full well how horrible he really was.

The next day, I drove down to the local rape support group and sat down as part of the circle. The leader, clipboard in hand, began his speech.

"Hello, everyone, my name is Mr. Doleeg. You all probably know me as the anti-rape activist here in Benson, and my mission here is to console those who have been victims of sexual assaults. I apologize deeply for what you've had to go through; rape is NEVER a good thing, and it's detrimental to both the mind and physical being". As he continued his speech, a girl next to me stroke conversation.

"Heeeey, my name's Betty. What's your name?". "Allen", I replied.

"How're you, Allen?"

"...conflicted"

"Given that you're here, there's no questioning that you don't feel right. I don't blame you"

"Yeah..."

"I got raped by an old friend who I've known since middle school... I feel like total shit right now, to be honest. I don't think I'm going to feel too good for the next several years or so... it's always the worst when someone you know so well does it, y'know?". "Yeah...", I said, as I looked at the ground. "...a relative did it to me". "Oh my god... you poor thing", she replied with a very surprised and remorseful look on her face. "I'd outright kill myself if someone from my family raped me". "Yeah. Somehow, I didn't, though; it's weird", I said.

I studied her for a bit, and quickly noticed how good-looking she was. Large breasts, long dark hair, baby face, soft-looking legs... the full package right here. I was reluctant to say anything, though, considering what she just went through.

"Alright, everyone", Mr. Doleeg announced. "It's time to talk about our rape experiences. Let's start with the young man next to me". After a while of going down the victims, I was next.

"Well... god, I don't know how to put this... my uncle raped me". Everyone lit up in total shock, including Doleeg. "My GOODNESS, Allen... being raped by thugs down the street is one thing. So is being raped by friends, construction workers, and turkey sandwiches". He then turned to the dim-witted looking frat boy to this left. "...it couldn't have been a sandwich that did that to you". "FUCK YOU, YES IT WAS", he said, as he ran out of the building in tears. "Carolyn, deal with one of my clients, please", he said into his walkie talkie.

"But yeah... Allen, that is absolutely awful... you're a strong man to handle something like that and still function relatively properly"

"Frankly, I would've commit suicide by now, since being raped by a relative is the absolute worst way for an act like that to go down. B-but I didn't, somehow"

"We're all proud of you for coming here immediately instead of keeping it bottled up. Don't worry". He then smiled with a look of gratitude.

As I exit the building, Betty ran up to me. "Hey, Al", she said with a smile on her face. "Wanna hang out sometime?". I quickly answered "How 'bout tonight, actually? I'm free, and I don't got work 'till Monday".

"That sounds great! I could tell how cool a guy you were from the moment I saw you in there, so I figured 'why not?'. It's a date!", she said happily, as she hugged me. I could feel her breasts squishing between my arm, and her head resting on me for a bit. "Urm... Betty, you sure you want to do th-".

"Oh... hah! I'm sorry! I almost forgot that you were involved in... yeah. Heh. Oh well, I'm sure you don't mind! Bye!~", she said as she got into her car and drove off. "...fuck, boner", I said as I tried to cover it up. The frat boy from earlier noticed me and said "Hey, man, that chick you were hittin' on in there wanna fuck?". I ignored him and drove off.

Me and Betty decided to see Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol. I ordered tickets, and before we went, she came over to my house. She was dressed in a grey mini skirt that showed off quite a lot of cleavage, and had red lipstick and a cap on. "Howya doin', Al?". I looked at her for a while, and she remarked "Yeah, I look hot, don't I? I know". She then giggled as I tried move my Adam's apple down. After introducing her to my parents, I took her up to my room and started a conversation. "Hey, uh... I want to talk for sec", I said. She smiled and replied "Sure, why not? We're friends, after all".

"I was reluctant to say this, since we're both rape victims and all and I didn't think it'd be appropriate, but... you're extremely hot. The way you pushed your tits against my arms and rested your head on me... I admit I got REALLY hard", I said with a bit of stuttering. She then smiled, licked her lips suggestively and said "you know... fuck the movie. I just wanna be with you", as she leaned toward me. She exposed her bra little by little while bending forward towards my face. We made out for quite a while, then I started groping her softy and she grabbed my dick. We did it for the next hour or so.

We were in bed, then she reached into her bag and said "hey, I got some mary-j in here. You wanna do it?".

"Eh, what the hell? I heard my parents leave for D.C. and we just fucked, so what's wrong with going another step up the ladder?"

"Hold on, though; I gotta get my friend over here. She's HILARIOUS with some drugs in her system, and I'd think you two would get along pretty well", then she called over another chick. She gave her directions to my place, then after she came over, we all got high and told ridiculous stories to each other for the rest of the night. We rented Teeth off DirectTV, and we spent the next couple hours riffing on it before falling asleep.

Betty's friend, unfortunately, forgot to lock the door on her way in, and a few robbers broke in. He walked upstairs and noticed us all sleeping. He quietly stole my Xbox, my collection of DC/Marvel comics and some of my clothes, but as I woke up and saw him putting everything in his bag, I said "Hey, WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY STUFF?", waking up the other two in the process. I tried to lunge forward to get rid of him, but he pushed me back, cocked his AK-47 and unloaded a couple mags on both Betty and her friend. I managed to dodge the fire, fight him and steal his gun, finishing him off with his remaining magazine.

I soon realized that my parents got home from Vegas, and the other two robbers were still there. I ran downstairs to rescue them, but they were already tied up and muffled. The robbers immediately noticed me, and one of them tackled me against the wall.

"Coming down here to be a hero, huh, you little shit? Hah, too late", he said, as he grabbed steroids and pain pills and shoved them down my throat. The other robber got a few beer out of the fridge, and right before I could kick the offending one off me, the other one forcibly opened my mouth and dumped all three of them out of the cans and down my throat. My dad, however, managed to escape due to my uncle teaching him how to cut himself out of rope, and said "YOU FUCKING IDIOTS! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'VE JUST DO-".

I then, in a drunken and mentally unbalanced rage, beat the crap out of the other two robbers and stabbed them, then I looked at my parents and mistook them as two other robbers after I was done. I stole the sub-machine gun one of them had, unloading on my father and mother before collapsing head-first on the counter. When morning arrived, a civilian had come by and noticed the mess in my house and called 9-11. An ambulance and police squadron soon arrived and took me to the hospital. I was strapped to a hospital bed and taken to an operating suite to have stitches place in my head.

When I woke up, the doctor turned to me and told me about my current condition. "Allen, I have some very bad news. Due to you consuming anabolic steroids and pain pills from the criminals, along with being force-fed beer and falling on the corner of your counter, lingering psychopathy from your psyche appears to have been awakened. You being raped by your uncle, as I've been told, also seemed to contribute severe traumatization to your condition. You... will have to be in here for a while until we can get a medication prescribed for it. Hey, we can't let it get any worse lest you running the risk of being officially diagnosed and put under arrest, y'know?".

I suddenly felt something awaken inside me, jumping from my bed and grabbing a scalpel from the drawer. The doctor tried to flee in fear while calling for assistance, but I cut his throat before he could escape. I then escaped from the hospital, but while a few handfuls of staff officials tried to get to me, I was too fast for them. I've never felt this energetic, free... and bloodthirsty in my life.

I stole a man's car from down the street and fled to Maine until I reached 24 years of age. However, my mental disorder only got worse from that incident in the hospital. I simply started off with feeling no remorse for deaths and tragedies, but it soon escalated to beating people up over the littlest things and being an overall miserable person. I eventually added outright killing to my list, but by then, I was driven out of the state and was forced to relocate to Vermont, my original state. I did my best to control my behavior, making new friends and starting a relationship, but my mental problems ultimately won out in the end...

...and here I am now. A shell of what I once was; in prison, driven to insanity, and declined more than any human ever should. Oh, and after my outbursts from the previous story, my sentence has been, of course, changed from 5 years to a lifetime. Just my luck, right?

It would have been a life sentence to begin with, but since the court only just heard about my disorder, they decided to keep it lowered in the off chance I grow out of it. I've proven, though, that I'm beyond help, so I'll most likely be here for the rest of my life. Can't blame anyone, I guess...

Months went by, and my misery prolonged, me continuing to feel no remorse for my actions, but having an undying desire to be free as well. At the end of the year, the convicts were taken to a party prison to celebrate their even behaviors, but I decided not to go. Every year following, the party prison was a thing, but I refused every invite, feeling that I should not go out of necessity. Eventually, I truly began to feel empathy for the lives I've destroyed, the friends I've made suffer, the crimes, and everything else.

But it's too late at this point. I can't repent for my sins; I don't have the right to, and I never will... I don't think. I'm a monster, and that is that.

I reached my mid-30s, and I was still in the prison. The warden had been monitoring me for years, noticing my misery growing ever more. One day in April, he dropped by my cell and started a conversation.

"Hey, Allen... 5 years since you've been locked up, huh?"

I looked up at him and quietly said "Yeah".

"Been thinking about your actions, I take it?"

I pondered what he said for a bit, then I broke down crying.

"...Allen... are you crying? I thought your disorder made you unable to feel emotions..."

I then looked at him with a beat-red face and tears running down my cheeks. "Sir... I still can't quite understand the severity of my crimes... much less how horrible they are and how much they've ruined our state. But hell, I know they're CRIMES, and over the years, I've come to realize that what I've done was bad, and I feel like, frankly, a shit-stain of a human being for what I've done. I knew the risks, the consequences... everything, and I did what I did regardless because of my sociopathy. I know I can't be forgiven for what I did... but..."

The warden then pondered what I said. "...are you sure you feel this way?", he replied.

"...I don't want to be the villain anymore, warden. How else am I supposed to put it?"

He then stroked his beard in deep thought and left the room, coming back with a chipboard after 10 minutes. "Well, Allen... under the conduct of the law, I obviously cannot condone your felonies or mental condition. However, you've been behaving quite well for the past 10 years, so I can, at the very least, put you on parole and see how you do".

I experienced great happiness. "REALLY? Sir, you have no idea how grateful I am. Thank you so much".

"Yup. However, that does not mean you're completely in the clear; act up enough, and you'll be right back in here before you know it. This is your one and only chance, so make the most of it. I'm sure you'll be alright considering your growth, however"

I signed a few things, then I was out and about, cheering happily. I talked with my old friends and told them everything about my past life (I hadn't said anything about it to them since returning to Vermont), and they decided to give me one more chance. I went to the clinic and they prescribed medication for me in-case my condition causes me to act up again. I felt I was in the clear starting from here; rekindled old friendships, having medication for my disorder, and overall being given one more chance despite all that I've done.

As I walked to a rave downtown, however, I noticed a man that looked strikingly like me in a corner. "...follia.." suddenly raced through my mind, as if to subtly warn me. I didn't really give it thought, however, and I continued to walk.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Trivia
Spoiler for:
  • It was speculated that peer pressure was part of the reason that Allen committed his final acts before being arrested. A combination of both that and Allen's violent tendencies did him in
  • Follia is Italian for madness, for anyone curious, and Allen hearing it in his head is meant to represent both his mind at its absolute worst and a sort of "spider-sense"
  • The amount of words (3478) partially has to do with Allen's current age (35), as a subtle foreshadowing technique. Treat the first two numbers of the word count as whole numbers and the latter two as decimal numbers, as if you were to round them up
  • Answers, obviously, references the story answering how and why Allen turned out how he did, what caused him to kill his parents and several other things
« Last Edit: May 25, 2015, 09:17:28 AM by boe »

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You know, I think its all gonna be okay.
For going the distance for a balanced breakfast.Project of the Month winner for June 2009For being a noted contributor to the RMRK Wiki2013 Best WriterSilver Writing ReviewerSecret Santa 2013 Participant
Alright.

I think I have found something useful to say. First off, Let me say that the explanation of Allen's trauma puts a lot of things into perspective. I think the revelation came at the right time in the story arc. The trivia was a great addition to add clarity to the story as well. The dialogue between Allen and his uncle is a step up from what you've written so far, too. That's the kind of dialogue that captures attention! I forsee the character doing horrible things when he gets out...

Now for some friendly critique. I think what makes your stories a little tough to swallow is the amount of background you ask your reader to take for granted. As all short stories, linked though they may be, should be complete as they are, such a stark separation of content between the present and the past can be destructive to the storytelling.

Next, the descriptions. As Allen is telling his side of the stroy, he often uses a nonchalant tone while describing something with dire and life-altering consequences. In some situations, thats appropriate- such as when he talks about  killing innocents or why it's everyone's fault but his own. Additionally, it's consistent with a sociopath's psychologial profile. However, when it comes to the trauma that turned his mind to such henious device, there needs to be more emotion.

In the description of his rape, don;t be afraid to describe the rape. Yes, it's horrible, especially if you've been through it yourself... but the art demands clarity, because this is the pivotal event which begins the transformation from a normal, well-adjusted person into the monster he is to become.

Allen uses language that is inappropriate for a victim of a crime of such magnitude. It's tough to know where to draw the line when writing these kinds of characters, and it can feel really wierd when trying to put oneself in their shoes. However, a traumatised child would likely not wisely say he will be traumatised for life. He wouldn't say anything. He'd stop talking entirely, and years down the road he'd beging acting out.

The part where the warden lets Allen out on parole is highly unrealistic. It doesn't work that way, especially for someone who has his history of gratuitous violence.

This theme of insanity was a tough choice, It's tough to navigate, and I certainly wouldn't have chosen it... it makes one's soul heavy. If this is what you really want to do, though, I would recommend that you try more vivid descriptions of the key events, make the professionals seem professional, and remove the comedic elements- like the kid who said a turkey sandwich raped him. That was hilarious, but because it was funny it broke the mood I think you were going for.
:tinysmile:

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First and foremost, I'd like to address that I was heavily conflicted with how to handle the parole. Part of me figured that it'd be best to leave him in the prison, but part of me thought that even someone as far-gone as him could maybe step up from his state. I chose the latter, since while there's definitely no excusing his actions, I wanted to make it clear that Allen still, ultimately, felt some sort of remorse for them. Parole might not have been the best choice, but it would've been far worse if I just flat out let him be 100% released from his sentence like nothing happened; with parole, at least he'd be under monitor, and given that he has a life sentence to serve, he'd effectively be watched for the rest of his life. Again, though, I was incredibly conflicted with how to do the part, so if it doesn't sound right, I apologize.

The back-story stuff was probably the second hardest part to do, honestly. I'm ecstatic that it explained things enough and really showed why Allen is the way he is, since I spent a long time figuring out what would sound right. I didn't go too far into detail with the rape, though, since I sort of set it up so it seemed like kind of a thing that happened and was over with. As soon as the reader was convinced that it wasn't much to worry about, of course, I basically hit them over the head with the reality sledge-hammer, and as soon as the robbers did what they did and Allen landed in the hospital, that was where his downfall to mental illness started.

However, as I've mentioned before, Allen's tone is meant to be all over the place, so that's why other scenes are more intensely portrayed than others. It's to give that feeling of unpredictability and show that the other characters really aren't safe around him.

Oh, and the turkey sandwich bit was just to offer some small levity. If that isn't your taste, then I apologize. Since there's only the final entry left, it'll probably be completely serious from here on out.

As always, your thoughts are appreciated.
« Last Edit: March 30, 2014, 05:45:35 AM by zacheatscrackers »

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I make the same one over again and this one sounds good too.