Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-10319977-20141211171540/@comment-10319977-20141212105345

If anyone has critique on the story itself, it would be greatly appreciated. Here's an updated version of the story:

There was a knock at the door of Joshua's new house that sent him running down the stairs

in excitement. Looking out the peephole, he saw the same girl he'd seen walking up his

driveway from his bedroom window only moments before. As he flung open the door almost

violently in excitement, the look on the girl's face changed to an expression of shock

and fear. He stared at her, not realizing that the overly excited expression on his face

made him look like a madman. The girl opened her mouth to speak.

"Hey... uh..." She started, trailing off as she stared in concern at the almost panting

boy in the doorway. "Are you alright?" she asked him, now with a hint of fear in her

voice. "Y-yeah!" Josh stammered out, puzzled as to why she asked the question. "Okay..."

she responded, unconvinced. "Well, uh... I'm Serah, and as cliche as it is, my mother

sent me over here to borrow a couple cups of sugar." She expected a response, maybe some

laughter, but the boy just stood there staring at her. Though it made her uncomfortable,

she continued. "Do you have any?" she asked, half expecting him to lunge at her with a

knife hidden behind his back. "Oh!" Josh responded, shaking his head at his own awkward

behavior. "Of course. I'll get it for you right away!" He rushed off into the kitchen,

almost breaking into a full sprint. This only made the girl more skeptical of his sanity.

Just as she was having second thoughts and turning to leave, he returned at the door with

two plastic bags full of sugar. "Here ya go!" He smiled as he thrust the bags in her

face. "Oh, and uh, it's not cliche since you're asking for two cups instead of one." he

chuckled out, surprised when she didn't laugh back. She slowly took the bags, her eyes

wide with what he could only presume was fear. He tried reexplaining. "Get it? One bag of

sugar would be cliche since that's what it always is in the stories, and you asked for

two!" He stared at her, waiting for a response. "That's the joke..." he spoke out softly,

his heart sinking as she continued to stare in silence. "Okay! Well, I'm going to go now.

It was nice meeting you." she blurted out before turning away, walking fast down the

driveway clutching the two bags. "My name's Joshua!" he yelled out to her, not sure if

she could hear him, or would even be interested in his name at this point.

Josh shut the door and rushed back upstairs to his bedroom. Looking out of his window, he

saw just what he expected to see. The girl, Serah, had tossed the bags of into the

nearest dumpster and was practically running back to her house next door. Josh turned

away from the window and brought his palm up, slapping it against his face as he cursed

aloud. "Damn it!" He gritted his teeth in frustration. "Why can't I just talk to people

like a normal human being? It's no wonder why she thought I was nuts!" he thought to

himself as he felt the familiar feeling of tears gathering in his eyes.

The sixteen year old hadn't been able to properly socialize with anybody for as long as

he could remember, and it had done wonders to his psyche. As he sat on the edge of his

bed, vision blurred by his tears, he thought of all the times he had tried to reach out

to somebody, anybody, in hopes of making a new friend, only to be shut down or, in the

best cases, ignored. He longed to be able to express himself, to be able to hold a

conversation longer than 5 minutes with someone other than his parents. He thought about

them, out celebrating their new house, enjoying their ten year anniversary at what was

probably the fanciest restaurant in town.

"They'd be better off without me." he thought to himself as he stood up, droplets of

water hitting the carpet around his feet. He turned towards his bookshelf and grabbed the

first book he could find, flinging it behind him in a rage. It wasn't until he heard the

"clink!" of the book hitting something behind him that he remembered what he had been

doing before he saw Serah come up to his door. The entire encounter had taken his mind

off of his new treasure.

He turned around to see the lamp, now knocked over and resting sideways on his desk. The

moment he had laid eyes on it while exploring the attic of his new home, he knew it was

special. "If not holding some sort of spiritual energy, it must at least have a lot of

monetary value. Worst case, I can keep it as a replica of the Genie's lamp from Aladdin,

since it looks so similar." he had thought to himself with a chuckle as he first

inspected it. Upon looking at it now however, he wasn't so sure that it could make a

fitting replica. It seemed much paler than he remembered, now almost snow white even in

the dark room. Almost completely forgetting about the upsetting event that took place

only moments ago, he walked over to his desk and picked the lamp up, placing it in it's

proper upright position.

Josh sat at his desk for hours, rubbing the lamp on every possible spot, both with his

hands and a variety of materials he thought might have some sort of spiritual energy,

such as the old flannel shirt his grandfather had handed down to him before passing away,

but it was all fruitless. The teenager sighed as he heard the engine of his parent's car

pull up and into his driveway, disappointed in himself for making no progress after

spending nearly all day experimenting with the lamp. "Joshua, you home?" his father shouted loudly from downstairs as soon as he had entered

the house. "Yeah! What do you want?" Josh shouted back, annoyed at his father's unending

insistence on checking up on him far too frequently. "Get down here!" the man shouted

back, his tone sounding a bit more authoritative now. Josh pulled himself out of the

chair and rushed downstairs, eager to get whatever redundant conversation his father had

in store for him out of the way so he could return to experimenting with the lamp.

"What is it?" Josh asked upon reaching the foot of the stairs. His father stared at him,

placing his hands on his hips and tapping his foot. The look on his face said it all.

"What did I do?" Josh asked, hoping the punishment for whatever he did wouldn't be too

strict. His father spoke up. "You really don't know? Come on Joshua, stop playing dumb!

You scared that poor girl next door half to death, and on her birthday no less! Her

parent's called us about it in the middle of dinner. Now why on Earth would you do

something like that?" he questioned. "D-dad it was an accident I swear! I didn't mean

to!" Josh choked out, upset at having to relive the memory. Upon hearing his son's voice

crack, Joshua's father's expression turned angrier. "Stop sniffling boy! You're not going

to be able to pout your way out of this one. We're going to walk over to their house

first thing in the morning and patch this all up."

Just then Joshua's mom came inside carrying a single shopping bag. The mist forming in

Joshua's eyes ceased upon seeing it. "Hey, what did you get me?" he asked excitedly,

trying to ignore his father's words. She rolled her eyes before responding. "I didn't get

you any treats. I got you something better!" she responded with an over-exaggerated sense

of confidence as she pulled out a duster from the bag. "This place needs to be dusted

badly, so I'll expect you to start tomorrow. Got it? It's about time we start getting you

caught up on all your chores." she stated firmly. The false hope his mother had given him

with her idea of a joke send Joshua over the edge. "Are you joking? We just got moved in

here. Can't I relax for even a day without either of you bossing me around? I'm not your

house maid you lazy pieces of-" Josh began to snap at his parents before his father cut

him off. "Watch your mouth!" his dad barked out, face red with anger at both his son's

laziness and disrespect. "You're gonna do what she says and that's that! No more

complaints! When I was your age, I already had a job! Now all you 16 year-olds do is sit

around all on your phones all day and then complain when you're asked to contribute to

the world, even just a little bit! I know you're a sensitive kid Joshua, but there comes

a time where you need to man up and stop acting like a spoiled brat!"

His father's shouts were too much for him. Shaking and staring at the ground with his

hand clenched in a fist, Joshua quickly turned around and stormed upstairs to his room,

slamming the door shut and locking it. He leaned with his back against the door, tears

streaming down his face as he looked around the room, his chest heaving from his heavy

breathing. He paced over to the desk, clutching the snow white lamp by it's handle,

staring at it as he gritted his teeth, his face redder than it had been all day. In one

swift motion, Josh spun around, chucking the lamp at the wall, and watching through

watery eyes as it shattered into pieces. That's when he heard the voice.

"You're a sensitive young man, Joshua." The voice was deep and raspy, but the most

concerning thing about it was where it came from. It seemed to be resonating from inside

Joshua's own mind. At first Josh looked around the room, trying to find the source,

refusing to believe that it was in fact inside of his head. He spoke out in response.

"Who said that?" Joshua's voice was shaky, both due to his current level of anxiety as

well as now worrying about whether or not he was developing schizophrenia.

"My name is Ciravu." the voice hissed from inside of his head. He clutched his ears

trying to silence it, but to no avail. "Sir... ah...voo?" Josh sounded out the name

before crying out "W-what do you want from me?"

The voice inside of his head chuckled. "It's not about what I want, Joshua. It's about

what you want. You summoned me here when you released me from my prison." stated Ciravu.

"Your... prison?" questioned Josh, looking at the remains of the white lamp as they

disintegrated in front of his eyes.

"Yes." the raspy voice said matter-of-factly. "I'm what you would call... a genie... of

sorts. I'll grant you three wishes. However, there are a couple catches."

"What... what are they?" Josh replied reluctantly, still questioning his sanity as he

stood in his room apparently talking a magical voice inside of his head. He wondered what

his parents would think if they were to hear him talking to himself when they came

upstairs for the night. His thoughts were cut off as the snake-like voice answered his

question. "The first catch: There are two rules when it comes to what wishes you can

choose. First rule: They cannot involve me. You do not control me. Got it?"

"Yes! Yes! I understand!" Josh shouted in response, desperate to drown out the voice.

"This is a favor done purely out of the kindness of my heart." The voice continued as it

boomed with laughter inside of the teen's head, causing Josh to cry out in discomfort

once more. Ciravu continued. "The second rule: They cannot involve time travel. This rule

only exists as a precaution to prevent you, or anyone else I serve, from going back in

time to prevent my birth."

"Your birth?" Josh choked out in response. Though he feared whatever had worked it's way

inside of his head, if it really existed at all, he was genuinely curious as to how such

a thing could be born into this world.

"Yes..." Ciravu hissed out softly. "It was nothing like traditional human birth by any

means, if that's what you're thinking. I was created solely out of human desire. More

specifically, envy. Thousands upon thousands of years of pent up emotion finally

manifested itself into a form of energy. That energy is what has burrowed it's way into

your mind at this point in time. That energy is what you released from the lamp, and now

that energy is here to do what it was made to do: fulfill human desires."

Josh was in shock, staring wide eyed, blankly into space as he listened intently. "So I'm

not crazy?" he spoke out, hardly able to contain his joy.

"No. You show no signs of being delusional at this point in time. However, that can

change, which brings me to the second catch: For each wish you make, I will initiate a

test for you to prove whether or not you're worthy of getting your wish granted. The

difficulty of the test will depend on the severity of the wish. For example, if you were

to wish for a sandwich, I would ask you "To what food group does bread belong?"

"Since the wish was simple, so was the test." Josh thought to himself.

"Smart kid." Ciravu responded to Joshua's surprise.

"Wait, how'd you know what I was thinking?" Josh asked, but as soon as the words left his

mouth he understood the stupidity of his own question. "I don't need to hear your words, only your thoughts." Ciravu clarified. "I'm not a

person. Think of me as... just another part of you."

"So I am talking to myself." Joshua joked dryly. The thought made Joshua's head spin

before he shook his head clear and spoke up. "Alright, I know what I want for my first

wish." he said with absolute certainty, surprising Ciravu with his sudden boldness.

"What is it?" the now intrigued voice hissed out.

"I..." Josh began to speak before stopping himself, realizing he didn't have to talk out

loud anymore. He began talking to the voice with his thoughts instead. "I want to be

accepted... immediately and unconditionally... by everyone."

"Ahh, acceptance. Great choice." Ciravu's voice whispered out with a genuine tone. "I

wasn't wrong when I said you were one of the smart ones."

"Thanks, but... can it be done?" Josh questioned.

"Of course," stated Ciravu "if you pass the test." He hissed out the last word with a

hint of glee in his tone.

Joshua's lips curled into a slight frown. "What is it? It can't be that hard. It's not

like I asked for superpowers or something." he questioned silently, hoping to hear the

voice ask him a simple "yes"or "no" question.

"Hmm." Ciravu hummed quizzically before erupting with a thunderous chuckle."I've got just

the thing for you, my friend. In order to be granted true, unwithering acceptance from

everyone you encounter in your lifetime, you must understand acceptance in it's

entirity." The voice hissed out with glee as he took joy in the creative process of

coming up with a test, before speaking up once more. "You must understand every level of

acceptance possible, ranging from unconditional love to burning hatred. Then, and only

then, will you understand and deserve the full potential of your wish."

The whole idea made Josh uneasy. "Burning hatred? What, are you going to have me take

some sort of advanced, 100 page test on the human psyche?" he questioned, half joking but

completely unsure of what to expect.

"No." Ciravu's voice boomed out. At this point Josh was wondering whether or not it was

possible for the entity to cause him permanent hearing damage. Ciravu continued after a

moment of what Josh assumed was a dramatic pause. "You're going to spend one week in an

alternate dimension. You'll experience first hand what going through every level of

acceptance feels like. At first, everyone will love you unconditionally. However, as the

days go by, the level of acceptance people have for you will slowly but surely decline.

Think of it as a very long, realistic dream."

"I'm not sure I want to go through with this." Josh thought with a sense of fear, knowing

the last thing he'd want would be to become outcasted by quite literally everyone he met,

even if it was only for a few days.

"It's too late." Ciravu's voice bommed, now louder than ever. "Your wish has already been

made. The test will now commence!"

"NO!!!" Josh awoke with a scream, bolting upright in a bed. He was covered in a cold

sweat as he panted nervously. He was really reconsidering his sanity now as his eyes

darted around the room. It was... his room. "Was I dreaming?" he thought to himself.

Then, remembering that demon could be listening in, he tried speaking to it again from

inside his own mind. "Hello?" he questioned. There was silence. "Are you messing with me?

This isn't funny!" he internally exclaimed, his agitated face turning a little red. When

he didn't hear any response, he gave up on trying to cantact the mystical force. He

wondered whether or not the being inside of his mind had ever really existed at all.

"No..." he shook his head for doubting himself. "It had to be real. There's no way a

dream could be that vivid." he thought out loud. "Then again, schizophrenia does seem

like the more logical conclusion." he sighed out.

Looking over at his bedside clock, he saw it read "6:05 A.M." This confused Josh. "Six in

the morning and I'm not tired? Maybe I just fell asleep early last night." He thought as

he shrugged it off.

Walking out of his bedroom, he saw his parents were still sleeping in their room next

door. However, he knew they'd be up shortly. Being early birds, they set their alarm

clock for 6:30 even on the weekend. The thought of it gave him a headache.

After doing all of his usual morning routine, excluding breakfast since he was feeling a

little nauseous after last nights events, Josh returned to his room. He looked at his

desk, then at the spot where he'd thrown the lamp. There was nothing. With a sigh of

disappointment, he plopped himself down on his bed. He was confused, pondering what was

real and what wasn't when his vision fell upon his phone. He grabbed it off the

nightstand and turned on the power, perplexed at how he went a whole day without using

it.

That was when his mom knocked on the door. As Josh looked up from the phone, he saw her

walking in while holding the duster she had tried giving him yesterday. Glancing at his

clock, he was surprised to see half an hour had passed since he'd woken up. Josh spoke up

in a pleading tone. "Listen, I'm sorry for throwing a tantrum last night, but I just

don't feel like dusting right now."

He was surprised when he heard the soothing tone in his mother's voice. "It's okay honey.

I actually came in here to tell you I'm sorry for last night as well. The joke was in bad

taste. You don't have to dust anymore. Oh, and your father's sorry as well. He's

downstares making you your favorite breakfast."

"French toast with bacon?" Josh questioned.

"Yes." replied his mother.

"Extra crispy?" Josh pressed further.

"Yes." his mother said with a giggle while reaching down to gently scratch his head.

Eyeing the duster still clutched in his mother's hand, Joshua's curiosity was peaked. "If

I don't have to dust anymore, why'd you bring the duster?" he questioned.

"Oh! I just figured I'd dust the house, starting with your room while you're downstairs

enjoying your breakfast." she replied back with a smile.

"Alright." Josh beamed back, smiling. "Thanks mom!" before pocketing his phone and

rushing downstairs.

Immediately upon stepping onto the first floor, the teen could smell and even taste the

intoxicating aroma of his favorite meat being fried up in a skillet. He heard it crackle

as it cooked, causing his mouth to water. His dad must have heard him because he turned

his head sideways, calling out to Josh with a chipper, and unusually upbeat tone. "Hey

champ! Your mother and I are sorry about how we treated you last night. I thought it'd be

a good idea to make you a well deserved breakfast in hopes you can forgive ous for our

latest mistake!" Though his words would have been taken as sarcastic in any other

context, his tone sounded completely genuine. This made Josh raise an eyebrow in

disbelief. The man flipped the bacon onto a plate next to the already prepared French

toast, seasoning it as he spoke up. "This is still your favorite, right?" he questioned

curiously as he turned, setting the plate on the table in front of his wide eyed son.

"Yeah..." Josh said before looking up his dad. Though there was nothing sinister about

the smiling man in front of him, or quite frankly anything that had happened since he'd

woken up, Josh felt uneasy. The words of the faceless entity echoed through his mind.

"You're going to spend one week in an alternate dimension... At first, everyone will love

you unconditionally. However, as the days go by, the level of acceptance people have for

you will slowly but surely decline."

While skeptical of how logical the idea of being taken to an alternate demension really

was, Josh was still an open minded kid. With some internal debate, he decided to start

testing his theory. "Hey, dad..." Josh quietly spoke up as he dined on his French toast.

"Yes, son?" his father responded gleefully. Josh paused, working up the nerve to say what

he had planned to. "Your cooking tastes like shit." the boy spat out with complete

seriousness in his voice, knowing his father would normally never be okay with him

swearing. If he really was in some kind of alternate demension, his father wouldn't bat

an eyelash, he'd figured.

There was a moment of silence as his father stared into his coffee mug, swirling it

around before speaking up in a hoarse voice. "I'm sorry Joshua. I really try to be the

best parent I can be but it gets hard sometimes. I just want you to understand how much

your mother and I love you. That'll never change." Looking over at his father, Josh could

see that he had his head down in shame. Though the man looked to be in a relatively

distraught state, his current level of sadness came no where close to the intense feeling

of dread welling up inside of his son.

Joshua spoke in a shaky voice. "So you... love me... unconditionally?" he choked out, his

head spinning as he fully realized what was going on.

"Yes, my son." His father responded back glumly. "Always."

Despite the food going down easy, Josh had a sudden urge to vomit as he ran upstairs to

the bathroom and emptied his stomach into the toilet. He began to sob. "Oh no! Oh no,

this can't be happening! How is this even possible?!" he cried. Suddenly he heard the

door creak open and looked over to see his father standing in the doorway.

"Are you okay? Don't tell me my horrible cooking actually made you sick! I'm so sorry

Joshua. Let me get you some medicine!" the man blurted out before rushing downstairs and

quickly returning. "Here, take this." he cooed to his seemingly sick son as he held out

the plastic bottle.

"No dad. No. I'm fine." Josh choked out between the chunks raising up in his throat. "I

just need to lay down." he cried out weakly before taking his father's hand, thanking his

him, whoever he was, as he helped Josh into his bed.