The Sentinel NSW [Rated M-15]

[Cade]

I'm kind of new to this whole fan-fic thing, but I need something to keep my writing skills adequate until college starts up in January. So I've decided to do what I always did in English class during the lulls and write a story, only this time I'll make it public for all to critique me

 

 

Another pointless day in my wretched existence. Some kid puked all over the cafeteria floor. As I mopped the putrid mix of cardboard pizza and low grade milk I couldn't help but start thinking. How did I end up becoming a janitor anyway? My own senior year in high school I was loaded in advanced classes. Physics, calculus, music composition, computer sciences- all of these and more. My future had looked bright.

 

"Cleanup in hallway 1001," my radio buzzed at me as I let out a sigh. My life sucks, my life sucks, my life sucks. That phrase echoed in my head over and over as I once again shambled my way over to the inevitable puddle I'd have to mop. I was meant for far greater things than cleaning up after the messes of teenagers. Life had become a disgusting routine. I'd wake up in my apartment, make a meager breakfast, head off to a job I hated, work for eight hours, come home and have a depressing dinner, and sleep until the next morning for the cycle to repeat.

 

Little did I know all of this was to end, abruptly. Destiny or fate or whatever you want to call it had knocked on my door, and its force blew away my whole life.

Edited December 2, 2008 by Guest

[DarthBrendo]

Super smart student winds up as Janitor....I'm intrigued...I went to school with a guy who was uber smart and he was the one in out group would really make something of himself and he simply dropped off the radar after gradation.

[Cade]

The final bell rung and the students rushed out to whatever they had planned for the rest of the day and coming weekend. As for me, I just let out a sigh of relief. Weekends were just as horrible a routine as the weekdays, but the only messes I had to clean were at least mine. A few more places to clean up, a few hallways, a restroom or two, and I'd be on my way home.

 

Journal Entry 421

January 19th, 2084

 

When I finished up sorting away my supplies I glanced at a clock hanging by the main office, 5:34 p.m- I had finished early today. Another pointless conversation with the attendant at the office, then I clocked out. She motioned me over to her and let some bad news out. Usually my paycheck would be given to me at the office, but due to a few errors on their part I'd be receiving it in the mail. She talked to me about weather or something, I'm glanced at the clock- 5:44 p.m. A few more minutes of banter- 5:52p.m. A whole twenty minutes wasted talking to someone about topics I don't care about.

 

I excused myself from the attendant with some mentally prepared lie, then I walked to my breaking-down car and drove to my apartment. Dinner, however microwaved it was, sounded good to my hunger and as such I decided to eat. Watched some t.v, nothing really interesting except a news story about a fire at a local military research site killing a few employees. Made this journal entry, and am going to sleep.

 

 

 

I stopped typing into my journal and looked over the entry, it was boring, exactly as boring as all 420 entries before it. Honestly, I didn't know why I kept the damnable thing. My life wasn't exactly something worth chronicling. Maybe I half-expected one day I'd open an entry and be amazed at what I had done that day. I got up and headed to my bed.

 

Sleep, the one time my restless thoughts from a failed 26 year old life quiet down. I had at one point suffered horrible nightmares about the events that put me in my situation. The failed experiment that would eventually get me barred from any college, taking away my chance at a degree and a great life. Over time these slowly went away.

 

Tonight promised to be an exception. I drifted into sleep same as always, with the t.v playing some random sitcom, darkness entering my mind, slipping away into blank nothingness.

 

 

"Michael, the cycle is accelerating too quickly!" his voice shattered my slumber. Memories of that night haunting me again. Nick Taggerty, the man who screwed me out of everything I deserved. The man who, only five years ago, stole my plans for a better future and sabotaged my machine to make a fortune. Nick Taggerty, the current project leader of the National Advanced Defense and Research Division. My fortune, my position, stolen by my so called best-friend. I know now that night my particle accelerator cannon was tampered with. Nick, who had been my right hand man during the whole experiment, wanted me to fail to unveil his so called "improved" version of my weapon to the military. I trusted him like a fool, and I reaped a fools reward.

 

The nightmare follows the same as always. He cries out that same phrase and then a bright flash emanates from the cannon blowing away reality into a blank white abyss. I wake up, still in the dream, in a hospital bed. No one knows of the experiment, they treat me like I'm crazy when I speak of it. The college I attended for 3 years acts like I never existed. I try to find Nick, but to no avail. My parents tell me I disappeared for 3 years after graduation and this is the first time I've spoken to them since. Then I search for anyone that remembers my existence and find that the last people who do are the staff at my former high school. For whatever reason I have nothing to my name, no money, no awards, no acceptance letters to any college. A friend on the high school staff gets me a job as a janitor, and I wake up in a cold sweat.

 

I've never understood how a dream could follow reality so well. Over time I've accepted that I never went to Grasbrow Tech, that after I graduated the stress must have gotten to me and I must have had a nervous breakdown. For three years I must have just coasted in a catatonic state until I was found and brought to a hospital for some arbitrary injury where I regained consciousness.

 

It doesn't make any sense, but neither does three years of memories being proven non-existent.

 

I got out of bed, did the standard morning routine, and went to see if my paycheck had gotten in the mail yet. Two pieces of mail tubed in as I hit the request button..... no one mailed me anything, I wasn't expecting any bills. I figured one was the paycheck, but what was the other?

 

I looked at it's front. N.A.D.a.R.D offices Washington D.C. Nick Taggerty

 

My head started to ache, Nick?! I had just accepted him to be a fallacy of my mind..... and yet here was concrete proof of 3 years of my existence lost.

 

I sat down in my chair and nervously fumbled with the letter. Apprehension kept me from opening it, curiosity compelled me to do otherwise.

[DarthBrendo]

Now that was an intriguing post...so he went to college and graduated, but some accident caused memory loss? or something along those lines. Looking forward to more.

[NavyGal]

Not so much memory loss I think Brendan... more like he remembers everything yet everyone around him denies it and the proof of what he was doing and such was erased/kept secret I can only assume by the government... yet now they need him back?

 

 

I'm thoroughly intrigued by this... Why do I sense that the fire at the local military research site which killed a few people is highly relevant to this story?

 

I'll definately be reading to see where this goes.

 

 

Just one question because this bugs me...

 

In the first sentence of the second post you have "The final bell rung" now I always get confused as to whether that truly should be rung or should it be rang? It also bugs me with words like sank and sunk. And I have even had drunken discussions about this whilst playing pool...

[Tiana Calthye]

Whoa. This reminds me kind of of the beginning of Kingdom Hearts 2, actually... normal kid, normal life, then BANG, something REALLY WEIRD is going on.

 

Interesting to see the smart kid as a janitor.

 

Anywho, if you could pop over to the fanfic rules and slap the required rating/critique level onto the top of your story, that'd be great. That was just added so you probably just missed it on popping into fanfic.

 

And. WELCOME TO FANFIC, CADE! (flails) This doesn't read like a fanfic, fortunately we love original fiction and NSW fics too, welcome to the library.

 

You have an interesting choice for a main character. I'm sure this all ties into some conspiracy here. Memory loss, woo.

[Jidai Geki]

You've got a good start here, Cade. I'm intrigued by your janitor's past and, like Nat, I'm expecting that the seemingly irrelevant news story will turn out to be important.

 

As Nat alluded to:

 

The final bell rung

 

Should read 'the final bell rang'. Past participles like 'rung' and 'drunk' follow the verb 'have/has' only.

 

There's a couple of grammatical errors here and there, but I don't want to nitpick too much.

 

I loved this line:

 

I trusted him like a fool, and I reaped a fools reward.

 

Keep it coming.

[Cade]

Message from the author:

I fully expected to be able to update this far more frequently, but as things often go what is expected rarely happens. Life decided to speed up for me, so I apologize for the lengthy times in between updates. I will continue the story, however, the posts may be shorter as I don't have as much time as I'd like to fully flesh out segments of the story.

 

 

And now back to your regularly scheduled program

 

I sat and wondered what the letter could be about. Even if Nick had been real, what could he want from me? The contents could be horrible; what if was only sent to mock me, to break me, to sink me further into despair? Still, what if the letter was the key to the gates that kept me imprisoned behind an endless depression? Could this letter be my way out? Could it be my very own golden ticket to a better life, or would it crush me? If nothing else, could it explain my fractured mind?

 

After what seemed to be an eternity of deliberation my curiosity had bested me. I apprehensively opened the letter, taking care not to damage the contents inside.

 

As I read the first line my reality seemed shattered.

 

I fully expected the letter to be from Nick, the truth broke my expectations a hundredfold. It started simply enough.

 

Greetings, Michael.

 

If you have received this letter then my plan has come to full fruition. We, or rather I, have found a way to keep ourselves alive far beyond the extermination date assigned unto us so unceremoniously by our good friends at N.A.D.a.R.D.

 

I stopped at that point and re-read the segment at least five times. The writing made no sense to me, surely Nick had decided to mess with me.

The date, perhaps that would give me some clue whether the letter was a fabrication. I glanced at it, it was dated from December 11th, 2078. Almost five years ago, almost the exact time as my failed experiment. What was going on here? Even the signature was an exact replica of my own, only it carried an air of arrogance I only remembered in a false past.

 

I continued reading the letter.

 

Done pondering over whether this is real? Yes, yes it is. I'm a decently intelligent fellow, so I'm sure by now I've figured out the origin of this letter. You wrote it to yourself, or rather me to you. I'm not entirely sure whether you're me, you see. The only thing I am sure of is that you can be me, and that I don't want to discontinue existence just yet.

 

You can throw this letter to the winds, if you so choose. Wallow around in the most terrible conditions I could ever have imagined for myself, or you can follow the breadcrumbs and on the path rediscover what we already know- we're meant for great things.

 

Done deciding yet? I thought so, not a real choice when analyzed is it? Then again, I'm not in the business of letting you screw up us. Now, if you'd pay attention.

 

As your first directive, you will call this number (561-642-4235) at a payphone. The answering machine will have the address you must go to. Do not question yourself, believe me in that I have the best intentions for me. Even if me is currently you.

 

 

Sincerely, Yourself.

[Jidai Geki]

Shades of Total Recall... I look forward to seeing what the protagonist's next move is. The protagonist communicating with his later self, that is.

[DarthBrendo]

Interesting post. At first glance, before I started reading it had me a little confused, as the phone number appeared as a clickable number with Skype.

 

It is also reminiscent of Back to the Future, but then I believe it was a later release then Total Recall.