Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-11823370-20150525000410

George was always a weirdo. Maybe it was because he was the only child who had no family. At school, he never spent much time in the playground, but would usually sit in the library with his small group of friends. They were all social outcasts; there was Tom, the computer nerd, Bill, the book nerd and Arady, who enjoyed writing poetry. George wasn't really a nerd as such, however, everyone who knew him agreed he had a heart of gold. If there was a younger child crying, he would always rush up to them and comfort them. Even if there was a creature as lowly as a snail that crawled its way onto a footpath, George would always go out of his way to make sure it was out of harm's way.

This trait of goodwill followed George into adulthood. He would donate large amounts to charity and would always buy food for any beggar he came across. There was not a living soul who would knew him that would wish any harm upon George. Perhaps that was what ultimately sealed his fate.

George was strolling through the park at midday. He always found it pleasant to stroll across the grass and let his stress melt away in the sunlight. A movement under the shade of a tree caught his eye. He saw a figure in a top hat and a long cloak leaning against the trunk. He couldn't make out his face, but he could tell the person was obviously feeling ill. He ran towards the figure, hoping that they were not so sick that he would be forced to call the ambulance, but reached into his pocket and felt for his mobile, just in case.

When he was under the shade of the tree, he noticed that the figure was a man, or seemed like one.

'Are you okay there? George asked, concerned. Is there anything I can do to help you? '

The figure looked up at him, and his face was too cloaked in shadow to make out any features (which was odd for such a sunny day, George realized), but George thought he could detect a faint trace of a grin emanating from beneath the hat.

On the contrary', the figure said in a soft, deep voice, I believe there is something I may do to help YOU, George.'

George blinked.

How did you know my-

I will grant you access to your own, personal paradise, the figure interrupted. The only rule is, once you accept your paradise, you may never leave.

George stood there, momentarily confused. Surely this was just some drunk messing with him? He didn't feel any immediate danger, although he did have a strange feeling of unease. But George decided to humor him and, out of politeness, give him an honest answer.

George thought about it. At first he thought of a land of forests and hills. Of a land of everlasting rest. He wondered if he should like to be instantly teleported there, and to never worry about a thing again. But then he realized he would feel guilt. He would feel guilt for every person left behind on Earth, for his friends and for every being who did not share his world. Then he realized what he wanted-his idea of a paradise.

Okay, said George. '''My paradise would be this world, except with me as the one in control. I would be able to wish for anything, and it would be made true.' He expected the man to start burst out laughing at him, but instead, he raised his hand, clicked his fingers, and vanished.''

George was shocked. He knew people were capable of magic tricks, but that was something else. He had never seen a man simply vanish into thin air like that. Now he wasn't so sure he had made the right decision. Maybe he really had just had a wish granted by a supernatural being. He decided to wish for something simple; to levitate. Suddenly, he felt a sensation of giddyness wash through him, much like the feeling of weightlessness in an elevator, and the next moment he was floating three feet above the gound. He almost fainted in shock. Quickly, he wished to be on the ground again, and there he was. He sat down, his heart pounding, and considered what just happened. He had never been Religious, but he had heard stories of the Devil, who would tempt people and watch them succumb, or even worse, trick them into making deals which would lead to disaster. He began to grow afraid. Maybe he would be corrupted by this power, or maybe there was some catch, some way in which this had been planned to lead to his downfall. But then he realized how ridiculous he sounded; he had never wished anything bad upon anyone he had met in his life, so if he couldn't use this power without being corrupted, no one could. And as to being tricked somehow? He was all powerful! How could anyone possibly catch him out when he could wish his way out of any situation? Perhaps this was a good angel or something that had come to reward him for his life dedicated to helping others.



George got up slowly. His mind was racing with all the problems in this world-crime, diseases, famine, war and even death itself. He could stop them. He smiled to himself. He would make this world a paradise for everyone. He started by ending all famine. Every single hungry person in the world woke up to the most splendid meal lain out in front of them. It had the peculiar trait in that it did not damage their undernourished bodies as most foods will, but rather invigorated them to the point where they were just as fit and healthy as a rich human being. George quickly became famous throughout the entire world, for he had revealed himself to be the source behind this new phenomenon. He did not do this for the glory, mind you; he realized that, if food were to magically spring up next to every starving person in the world, people might become confused, even downright sceptical. However, since he had revealed himself as a source early on, and everyone who knew him vouched for him as the kindest soul they knew, the effect was less drastic. Many, many people were still unconvinced, of course, and wanted to know where he got his powers. Here was where he stretched the truth somewhat. He claimed that he had simply discovered these powers out of the blue and he assured everyone he would never abuse his powers for personal gain. What he went on to do removed the last scrap of doubt from anyone's mind.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[6155,11228,0,0]}">Ill health was next. Every patient in every hospital around the world suddenly found themselves healed. Every cancer patient had their tumor disappear, every amputee had their limbs healed and people mysteriously lost their common cold symptoms. Where once there had been fear and doubt of this new man's powers, now there was wonder and joy. But George was not done. Every criminal in the world suddenly found things getting more and more difficult for them. Murderers would reach into their pockets, only to find that their knives and guns were not there, burglars would find that the door they were sure was unlocked was shut tight and shoplifters seemed unable to hold anything they wanted, as if the candy bars they were intent on poaching were made out of soap. But these criminals soon found they had no need for such things, for when they returned to their homes, they found that they had been replaced with large houses, and when they looked inside, they discovered all the material goods they had ever wanted.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[6155,11228,0,0]}">

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[6155,11228,0,0]}">Now there was one thing which even George was afraid to change. Death had always seemed the biggest problem of humanity, but now that it came down to it, George realized that stopping it might cause more problems than it would solve. Not only was death essential for preventing over population, it had always been such an integral part of being human, and George wondered if he had the right to change it, even if he had the ability. But humans are never satisfied. Parents would look for answers when their children died of accidents, for although people could not die from murder or illness, a person could still fall off a cliff, or get hit by a car. Everyone wants someone to blame, and in this case, there was one person who everyone had to blame. People started questioning why George still allowed death, some even going so far as to decry him for it. Where once there had been love and adoration for George, only blame and hatred remained. This had never happened to George before, and he found his vilification to be extraordinarily distressing. He tried to go for a walk in the park where he last was only a week ago, although it seemed like years. But people did not greet him with smiles and 'good mornings'. Only dirty looks and scowls. He looked at the tree, that damned tree, where this all began, and wished for one crazy moment that everything would go back to the way it was. But he knew, in his heart, that he could never leave his position-he was the ruler of his 'paradise', and he had to act like it. So, with a heavy heart, he stopped death.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[6155,11228,0,0]}">

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[6155,11228,0,0]}">People were overjoyed. They and their families could live forever in peace and prosperity. But George foresaw what would happen next-the world was only a limited place, and it quickly began to fill up. Even George's ability to create new homes for people was not enough to provide everyone with a home, and soon the planet was getting overcrowded. People were miserable, but George thought of a way that he considered to be quite brilliant. He wished for portals to open up next to people that would lead to their own personal paradise. That way, people would be able to travel into a world where there was unlimited space and they could be happy, forever. He was sure enough people would go to stop Earth being crowded but enough would stay to keep Earth a happy and prosperous world. He went to bed, confident that he had at last solved every problem this world had. George awoke to a very quiet morning. There was nothing but the soft, quiet breeze of the wind outside his window. There were no birds chirping and no one on the streets outside his window. George switched the TV on, but  there was nothing but static. He ran outside in his pyjamas, but the streets were empty. There was not a living soul in sight. The portals, which would close as soon as anyone entered, were nowhere to be seen. Then he saw his mistake. He had assumed that some people would be able to resist the temptation of the portals, but no one had. They, ultimately, did not care for George, or the Earth that he was king of. They cared only for themselves, and their own desires. He desperately wished that, if any of his friends were still here, he could find them. He ran down the street to where Arady, his oldest friend lived and sure enough, he was there, standing right next to the last portal in the world.George nearly sobbed from relief. He closed his eyes and shouted 'Arady!' but when he opened them, his heart sank. The portal was there no longer.

<p data-parsoid="{"dsr":[6155,11228,0,0]}">George collapsed. He could not bring people back from other worlds; he only had power overt one. He was alone. Everything had gone wrong. He knew he had two options. One was to sit there for an eternity and slowly go mad. George knew that he could not bring himself to do that. So he took the only other option. He wished himself out of existence entirely, and with that, he was gone. The last voice to be heard on planet Earth was a deep, twisted chuckling. The laughter of a being who knew that his most hated foe had been finally destroyed. <ac_metadata title="Why was my story deleted?"> </ac_metadata>