The Road of Fame – Part 3 of NaStySuMo

So today the third instalment of my NaStySuMo story. August proving to be a very good example of how planning a month does not necessarily mean that you can do with the month as you want. I had planned to get ahead of my stories so that I can devote the full month of August to my NaStySuMo story. Alas, things weren’t meant to be as I had to study for a stupid waste of time test and had a bit of an emotional boat rocking experience which sapped my creative genius. Yesterday was the first day that I had a good day’s writing. And then, lol, this morning.

The great thing about writing is that it waits for you. Kim Harrison, one of my favourite authors, taught me this. So, without further waiting, I present to you part 3 of Fame’s adventure.

Road of Fame – Part 3

She was in the back store room when she heard the alarm sound. It made Fame pause, thinking that the bank was having a drill. It was only when she heard shouting and the sound of her dog barking ferociously when she realized that something was wrong.

“Dogmeat!” She yelled as she dropped the box and stormed outside. “Dog…”

Two gunshots shattered through the air, one punching her to the ground and the other dragging a yelp from Dogmeat unlike she had ever heard. With her ears ringing as she tried to breathe and gather her senses, Fame saw the silhouette of four people behind the counter, their faces covered in masks. As one cursed seeing her withering in pain on the floor, another raised his gun and fired another shot.

Dogmeat’s yelp was his last and it jerked through Fame like an attack on her very own soul.

“You shouldn’t have shot her!” She heard one of the masked men shout. “Damned it man…” He started to climb over the counter but – savaged into action by Dogmeat’s death, Fame managed to find the coherence and strength to move. Stumbling to her knees she slammed the store room’s door shut just before the man reached her and locked it. Gasping for air, unable to stop the cry of pain that escaped her lips, she clutched the place above her breast bone where she had been shot.

“Shit,” she breathed and pressed her hand against her shoulder in a desperate attempt to make the pain stop. “Shit…” There was a loud bang on the door as one of the robbers tried to kick it open. Fame shut her eyes and swallowed against the taste of blood in her mouth.

“Open up!” She heard a man shout from the other side. “Open up this damned door!”

Closing her eyes, nauseated by the sight of her own blood, Fame reached into her back open and took out her PSP, curling up against the door, hoping that her body weight would keep it closed. She heard another curse from the other room and loud sirens from outside.

“Shit Pete!” A voice she had not heard before shouted. “The Law’s here, it’s only a matter of time before…”

“Don’t worry,” Another speaker with a voice that struck her as being too calm said. “We have a hostage don’t we?”

Fame shivered in pain and fear but took a deep breath and forced herself to become calm. “Oh no you don’t,” she whispered and turned on her PSP. Then she closed her eyes for a few seconds and opened them again, not alone in the room anymore.

At first the brunette woman had her back turned towards her, her muddy boots inches from Fame’s face, allowing her to smell the wet aroma of moss and mud and wet leather. She wore a pair of black cargo pants that was tucked into her boots and a black tank top, just as muddy as her boots. The wounded shop assistant turned her gaze upwards just in time to see the woman turn around sharply and point her two magnums at her. When their gazes met the woman immediately cursed and turned around frustrated, holstering her weapons.

“Fame, by everything holy, why do you summon me now?!” The woman closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose before looking at Fame again. “And what are you doing on the floor?”

Fame swallowed and tried to sit up. “Ah… hello, Lady Croft.” She said, trying to keep her tone of voice light. “I’m sorry to be bothering ye at this hour, ah realize that ye were busy but,” she swallowed, the pain making her dizzy. “But I’m in a tad bit o’trouble.”

Lara Croft blinked at Fame and, just as there was another crash against the door, hunched down and grabbed her shoulder. “You are wounded,” she exclaimed in surprise, “what is happening here Fame?”

Again, Fame swallowed and tried to take deep breaths. “Ah think they robbed the bank,” she said. “And now they wanna to take me hostage. They say the Law’s on the way, but this here is Hereford, save for the police, there aren’t anybody else. The closest quarters are in Shrewsbury. I’m sorry for bothering ye, but ah need help.”

“No shit,” Lara breathed and looked at the door. “Come on Fame, move away from the door.” She pulled the young woman up by her good shoulder and moved her so to the back of the storeroom so that she could put her behind some cabinets. Fame, still clutching her PSP, couldn’t help but whimper in pain as Lara carefully set her down and draw her guns again.

“Don’t kill anyone, ah won’t be able to explain.” Fame said through clenched teeth as the Tomb Raider moved to the door. “An’ don’t get hurt, Dogmeat… He’s…” Her vision blurred but she fought back. “I’m gonna pause the game, that gives ye five minutes, unless ah extend it.”

The brunette didn’t look back as she trained her weapons on the door.

“Five is all I need.”

To Be Continued…

Immortality

Please take note – the following is an Alyss Rant, brought on by a frustating evening waitressing. It does not necesarily portray the truth, only her own, silly thoughts.

We are trapped in meaningless lives.

It’s true, don’t argue.

Years ago, life was about survival. I’m not talking about the time the Neanderthals rules the world, no, I’m talking about a quieter time a little bit closer to home. Before the age of technology, jobs had meaning and the work that you did changed other people’s lives. Your build their homes with your bare hands, you raised their food (and your own for that matter) and you taught their children, saved their lives and worked to make society just a little bit better.

Not so much today, if you think about it. People go to an office cubicle – sometimes with no window and they work with numbers, and figures, and… Money. More often than not, this money doesn’t even make them rich; they just work to feed the big bad corporate environment which leads to the downfall of most people except a few people at the top. Very few people are truly happy in what they do, very few people have a way out. Life is generally meaningless and we feel ever smaller in a growing world, trying to fool ourselves to believe in happiness (and managing it sometimes in conventional means of raising a family, loving a child, spouse or partner and hobbies which are truly ours and ours alone).

It’s in this frame of mine I believe that networking sites like Facebook appeared. Apart from the fact that it made a few people very rich, it pulled people out of their singled out little lives and connected them in chain of people both from the past and future. Friends’ counts soared on people’s profiles as we opened up our lives to the world. We would share our inner most thoughts, our joys and our sorrows with those who bothered to press the ‘accept friend’ button and we would dutifully hunt down anybody else who might just consider it. Quite suddenly, there were people watching us, following us. Commenting on our lives and sharing in these little moments that were private twenty years ago.

I think it’s time to point out that I don’t Do Facebook. I’m pretty cynical about the whole thing, feeling that the people I’m currently keeping contact with have my contact details and therefore don’t need to stalk me on the internet and the people that I lost contact with for more than five years in a row normally had a reason for leaving… Even if it is just lack of interest. Yes, I’m well aware of the fact that I’m becoming a grouchy old woman at 26. It’s rejuvenating feeling.

The thing is that, it’s not Facebook per say that I have a problem with, it’s this whole culture of sharing everything that you do in the vain hope that somewhere out there, somebody is taking notice. It’s like this wild and desperate attempt to get out of the current of nothingness that we find ourselves drowning in during our daily lives. The world has become an open book and we invite everybody to come and read it.
Yes. To an extent, the pot is calling the kettle black (and wait for it, my story get better). I blog. I am by all accounts a nobody, an insignificant person who gets onto a soap box every now and again or share random titbits about myself. And yes, lol, I expect people to read it. Hell, I even expect them to comment every now and again…

Because you see, like everybody else, I would like to hope that my life has some significance, that somewhere out there – somebody cares and that what I do, is not just of importance to me, but that I can make a difference, if only to bring a smile to someone’s face.

Like everybody in this world, I am in search of immortality. Of meaning in my own life that stretches further than this dreary, monotonous routine of work.

You see, when I was little, I wanted to change the world. And I managed it, for a little while if only by fighting day in and day out to keep lambs alive. My work then wasn’t swallowed up by numbers and information going nowhere. No. I made a difference. I helped to give life and sometimes took it, to make a difference.

I am of course, digressing, but what I’m trying to point out is that, I am just like everybody else, in search of meaning. Of Immortality. The modern fountain of youth which will preserve my words for the rest of my life and hopefully a little bit beyond.

So.

I bowed under peer pressure and started tweeting.

Not because I believe that I can make a difference with it, lol, no – for the pure and simple fact that I was bored and thought: What the heck?

And in that decision to start sharing my thoughts in 160 characters, I realized that I have been wrong about people, that I am just like everybody else and that I should stop being so hard on society, because I’m sailing on the boat as well.

So, if you are interested, and if you feel as if you can withstand a little bit more from me every day, I invite you to follow me on Twitter at: http://twitter.com/alyssc01