Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-29015383-20160926093727

Amusingly enough, when I try to write a specific story I take forever, but when a story launches itself at my brain out of nowhere and sticks its grubby claws in there it can get done in a matter of hours.

I tried to go for a slightly different narrative style here, think more campfire-ish?, and I'd love to know if it works. It is at least intentional that I repeat Johnny's name and the word 'boring' a lot.

I did read it through a few times and tried to fix everything I came across, however...I had to write in notepad since I'm at work and it doesn't have a spellcheck. As always, please review and point out anything you feel is odd!

There was once a boring man named Johnny. He lived a quiet, boring life working a boring 9 to 5 job. Each one of his neighbors in his boring appartment complex was numerous times more interesting than Johnny himself. Nothing about him stood out, from his thinning brown hair, bespectacled brown eyes, and always clean shaven cheeks, to his soft spoken, dull voice and his quiet but polite demeanor. Though not quite forgotten by society, at least as far as his bills were concerned, Johnny had no real friends and the opposite gender all but ignored his existance. He would without a doubt live out his life alone until he grew old and died in a boring way, and that was just fine with Johnny.

One night found Johnny waking up around 2am. While this may not seem that strange to some, for Johnny this was highly unusual. Upset about the disturbance of his boring daily routine, it took Johnny a few moments to notice what it was that had woken him. An incessant itching in his right ear. He scratched and scratched until a sudden stab of pain made him yelp. A little bit of blood showed between his fingernails and a look in the mirror confirmed. Sure enough, he'd scratched too hard and broken the skin. It was nothing a small bandaid couldn't fix however and the itch was gone at least. The pain too was already fading. Johnny didn't think more of it and returned to sleep.

The next day was as uneventful as it had ever been. Johnny woke up, ate his breakfast, read the morning newspaper, and went to work. None of his colleagues seemed to notice the bandaid on Johnny's ear as no one made a comment. In truth, if the bandaid didn't serve as a reminder, Johnny himself would have found it difficult to say something had happened. His ear didn't hurt at all anymore, although the scratches still bled a little. Johnny decided to forget the small, nighttime anomaly and returned to work.

The night that followed was spend in a dreamless but restfull slumber. As always, Johnny woke up exactly 2 minutes before his alarm went off. Truly, he didn't need the device but keeping it on was a force of habit. Johnny began to move in order to get up and begin his boring daily routine but his limbs refused to cooperate. Try as he might, his body would not move. The fury that washed over him at this unwanted change in his normally predictable life could not fuel his seemingly paralyzed figure. He could not rise to go to work, or get breakfast. He could not raise a hand to read his daily morning newspaper. He could not even lift a finger to turn of the alarm that sounded loud and proud for the first time in years. At least the alarm quieted down after the pre-programmed amount of time had passed, leaving Johnny in the silence of his bedroom with nothing more than the sound of an odd, quiet rustling that seemed to originate from within his own skull.

It was two weeks before someone decided to mention of Johnny's disappearance. His landlord, annoyed that the door was closed from the inside and that bills were unpaid, informed the cops and they broke in. They found Johnny in the bedroom laying in his own filth on top of the bed. An expression quite unlike the even-mannered Johnny was etched upon his face: one of pure unadulterated horror. Nothing within the boring appartment was out of place however, and there were no signs of anyone else breaking in. The coroner estimated the time of death to be only a few days prior to discovery. The cause of death left even the most gifted in the medical profession mystified: Johnny's entire brain was missing. Each one overlooked the small detail of a pinprick hole in the flexible eardrum of Johnny's right eardrum. Afterall, a brain could not just escape in that manner. Completely mystified, they gave the body of that boring Johnny a spot in their extraordinary laboratories to study extensively.

Few remember Johnny during life but many can recall him after his death. But really, don't strive to be like Johnny. Try to always have a friend nearby. It won't save you when it scuttles in your room and pushes through the soft membrane of your ear, but their voices of concern will at least distract you from the quiet gnashing jaws deep within your skull.

Well since you went all the way through I have a question:

Should I make it clearer what happened? This is kind of intended as a monster (or bug) story but from a different narrative idea and the monster in question is never mentioned or even described. It's a tiny one (afterall, why do they always need to be huge?) that slowly pushes itself through the eardrum in a way that leaves only that pinprick spot as evidence and then begins to eat the brain, starting with the parts that handle pain and motion. Does this work? Do I need to show more? Let me know! 