Poe Aesthetica

Short Stories and Poetry
2004-02-17 22:00:45 (UTC)

4.58pm, 17.2.2004 - Short Story - Unfinished - Beo

A man slid out of his giant king sized bed, reluctantly
leaving the warmth and comfort of his silk sheets. He
scratched his stomach lazily as he walked from his bed
into the bathroom. He unbuttoned his boxers, and whipped
out his penis, aiming into the toilet, relieving his full
bladder. He yawned as he did this, and shook twice, before
stuffing his member back into his boxers, re-buttoning
them up. He stepped infront of the bathroom sink, and
turned on the faucet. He placed his hands under the cold
water and bent down, splashing the water onto his face
little to help him wake up. He picked up his toothbrush,
and wet it under the water, putting a bit of toothpaste
onto the brush, sticking it into his mouth, starting to
scrub his teeth. He stood up, watching himself in the
mirror. His spiked black hair stood on end, the spikes
crooked from his sleep. He continued scrubbing his teeth
until they were plaque-free. He spat the toothpaste into
the sink, and rinsed off his brushed, and scooped some
water into his mouth, swishing it around in his mouth,
rinsing it of the toothpaste, spitting the water back out.
He stuffed his toothbrush into it's holder, and dried his
mouth off. He walked from the bathroom into the kitchen,
and glanced that the answering machine, seeing he had one
new message. Beo shook his head and ignored it, he'd find
out who'd called later. He passed by a mirror on this way
to the fridge and stared in the mirror. As he gazed into
the mirror, he could hear the faint whispers in his ears
again. Most of it was unintelligable, but one he could
clearly make out all the time.."Beo..help me..".

The more Beo heard the whispers, the more he tried to
sleep, hoping to sleep away the voices. He closed his eyes
tightly, and shook his head, praying they'd quit soon. He
walked from the mirror over to the fridge and pulled out
some left over pizza from two days ago. He put it on a
plate and stuck it in the microwave for a minute. As he
gazed at the dirtied dishes in the sink, and the food
stains on the kitchen counter, he spaced out, only to be
brought back to the concious world by the dinging of the
microwave. He shook his head as he was brought back,
realizing the voices had ended. He opened the microwave
pulling out the hot pizza, and set plate down on the
counter. Beo pulled open the fridge door once more,
grabbing a cold beer off of one of the nearly bare
shelves. He sat down on a barstool at his counter, and
started to scarf down the pizza. He popped the top on the
beer can, and took a swig off of it. He set the can down,
and started in on the second slice of his pizza. As Beo
ate, he got to thinking about the voices. They'd only
started since he moved into this house, and they only
started when he looked into that mirror, which reflected
the door to the basement. He shrugged, and brushed it off,
finishing off his pizza, scooting the plate into the
already full sink.

Beo finished his beer, tossing it into a paper bag
designated for recycling, and hopped off the barstool,
walking into his bedroom, he stripped off his boxers,
tossing them onto the floor. He walked ass-naked over to
his dresser and pulled out a pair of plain blue jeans,
with torn holes in the knees. Beo pulled on the jeans,
hopping around as he did so, grabbing a pair of socks,
yanking them on. He shuffled over to his closet, opening
it up, pulling out a black and blue plaid flannel shirt,
and pulled it on, leaving it unbuttoned. Beo was tired of
the voices, he was determined to get to the bottom of
this. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to fix the
spikes. He eventually gave up, and walked back into the
kitchen. He grabbed the door knob, twisted it, and pulled
the door open. Beo looked down the dark stair-case, and
hesitated before flipping on the lightswitch. The bright
flourescent lights nearly blinded him. He shielded his
eyes from the glare of the lights, and looked at the old
wooden steps.




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