Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-24234841-20151112024350

I have a common problem with my writing where I tend to gloss over details, making a lot more fast-paced and shorter than I intend it to be. I was just wondering if this was one of those cases, and if I should continue writing. Warning: NSFW

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In my group therapy sessions, there's always a point where Darren, the royal cocksucker of a leader, asks us to talk about things that piss us off. Well, he doesn't word it like that, exactly; he went through a couple of names, most of them involving "button-pushers" and "jimmy-rustlers" but I think we all knew what he wanted: for us to complain.

I've never been much of a venter, even though I have plenty to vent about, and so when the circle came around to me, I complained about the same bullshit that everyone else complains about. My coffeemaker's broken (if that were true, I'd be dead), or my hamster died (why the fuck would someone want a hamster as a pet?), or my parents won't leave me alone (oh boo-hoo, why don't you go suck on your trust fund's tit some more, you little bitch?)

But last night, my rubber band for a brain got pulled a little too much. Darren looked at me from across the circle of chairs holding pathetic sacks of meat, and had the nerve, the motherfucking gall, to ask "Kyle, have you been using again?"

I tried my best to open up my crusty, sagging eyes and said "No. Of course not. Why would you say something like that?"

"You just seem a little on edge. Offput. That's all."

I shrugged, giving a little glance over my shoulder.

"Is there anything you want to talk about? Anything that makes you angry? Frustrated?"

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">I licked my bottom teeth a little, trying to get the taste of that cheap-ass coffee they served at the meetings out of my mouth. "Uhh... No. Not really."

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"You're sure?"

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"Positive."

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">Darren looked at me for a second. "Why are you here, then?" He asked, faking hostility.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">I clicked my tongue. "Umm... Well, at first, I came because I needed help." He nodded his head. "With my addiction."

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"But why are you here now?"

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"Free fuckin' doughnuts." People around the circle laughed.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">Darren stayed still. "I don't believe you. I think you still need help with something, you're just not speaking up. There's no other reason you'd choose to spend your time here."

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"I think you're wrong." I said.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"Is it fear that keeps you quiet?"

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"No." I said, looking over my shoulder again.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"Look at me." He said. I turned and glared at his eyes.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"What are you afraid of?"

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">______________________________________________________________________

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"Boy, that was rough." Monica said, approaching me. She was the pretty blonde who went to my group. She didn't feel the need to address me until now, us both shivering our asses off outside of the church.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"It's the first time I've ever seen Darren interrogate someone like that. You know he used to be a high school guidance counselor? I guess he's just taken an interest in you."

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"Well, he definitely talked to me like I was a fucking kid."

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">Monica put a cigarette in her mouth, staining the end of it with her dark red lipstick. She covered the lighter with her glove, and clumsily lit it. She stuck the lighter back in her pocket and pulled out the pack. "You want one?" She asked.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"No, I quit."

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"Why? I thought you were addicted to heroin or something."

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"I was. I quit cigarettes for a different reason."

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"Why?" She asked again, blowing smoke in my face.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">I smiled. "You waiting for a cab or something?"

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">She smiled back. "You wanna follow me home?"

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"No. Just figured it would be cheaper if we shared a ride."

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">She took a long drag of her cigarette. "Yeah, I called a cab. I was going to get something to eat, though. You wanna come?"

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">I looked nervously at a streetlight in the distance, illuminating an orange circle of pavement. "Uh, it depends on the place."

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"Well, it's almost midnight. There's not that many good places to go. I was thinking about that Denny's around the corner from my apartment."

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"I think I know that one. With all of the flickering lights and shit?"

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"Mm-hmm."

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"I thought it got busted for prostitution."

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"Yeah, but it's still open. 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. You can still find some dried cum stains if you look close enough at the bathroom stalls. " Just as she said it, the cabbie pulled into the near-empty lot.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"You call a cab?" He asked, pointing at us with his brown fingernail.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"Yeah." Monica said.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"You're gonna have to put out that cig, sweetheart. No smoking policy."

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"Yeah, ok." Monica said, dropping the cigarette and stomping on it with her boots. As she walked, she turned around, adjusting her beret. "You coming?" She asked.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">I looked at the streetlamp in the distance.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">"Sure."

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">___________________________________________________________________________________

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<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"">This is just the setup, of course. I'm thinking on elaborating on Kyle's fear of his own shadow later in the story, being the reason why he avoids bright light sources. He'll his shadow as a naked, grinning, bloody version of himself that tends to move around on it's own and tries to kill him on a regular basis. <ac_metadata title="Started writing a thing, wondering if I should continue?"> </ac_metadata>