So that previous story, the one that caught on fire. I turned it in to my professor and he said that it was “very experimental.” Still got a B, though. Maybe I should light all my stories on fire. Though I don't know.
Ever since that day, I have been kinda, paranoid. No matter where I go, I am not alone. Like there is something behind me, but when I turn around, nothing. Maybe that dream I had isn't helping.
Either way, I still got some more work to do, I got another project I gotta write for. I like these classes. They are great for me. Give me a reason to sit down and write. Today, I just got a simple prompt. I put it below:
Write a story about a monster trying to become more human or about a human trying to become more monstrous.
A decently fun one, I love a bit of horror. So I should lean that way. I can be classical with this. Hmmmmmm alright. I got it.
The buzz of a light overpowers the room as you sit down at a metal table. In front of you, you have three VHS tapes, along with a TV that has a slot for the VHS. You put the first one in.
The TV quickly buzzes to life before the screen comes into focus. You see an older man in a simple button-up shirt. He stands in front of a chalkboard. “Sit down, everyone.” The man's gruff voice echoes through the room. “Today, we talk about the self. What makes us, well, us? What defines our consciousness? One of the more popular theories comes from John Locke, who said ‘consciousness can be extended backwards to any past action or thought…’ which is to say, the self is our past. Our experiences.”
The man on the TV gazes behind the camera for a moment before snapping back. “Now of course, this isn't the only perspective. You see, in-” the tape ejects itself. The room is once again filled with the buzz of the harsh light. You put in the next tape.
It's the same man, but he looks a bit disheveled, or has he always looked that way? “Alright, everyone, uh, sit.” The man stumbles in front of the blackboard. “Today, we are going to talk about the self.” Murmurs fill the classroom, “I’m sorry, is there an issue?”
A new, younger voice chimes in, “Uh, sorry professor, you just talked bout that yesterday. You said today was going to be about groupthink.”
“Did I know, I must be losing myself. Age comes with its downsides. Now remind me what's your name?” The tape ejects itself. The room is filled with a new loud buzz of a bright light above your head.
You put it on the last tape. You see an older man in a simple button-up shirt. He stands in front of a chalkboard. He looks sick. Do you know him? “Today, we um are going to talk about the self.” The class murmurs, you don't know why, but the old man notices. “Is something the matter?”
A new(?) younger voice speaks up, “Professor, are you ok? You don't seem so well?”
“I am as fit as a whistle! Why has this come over you… You are… what's your name again?”
“Sir, I think we should take you to the ER.”
The camera rises, and rises some more, until it is about ten feet into the air. No one but the professor notices. “You can't, why are you?” The professor blurts out before the tape ejects itself.
The room, wait, room? Why are you here? You should be, no, where should you be? You begin to get up in a daze before a snarling voice in front of you says, “Sit down, everyone.” You do as he demands. “Today, we talk about the self.”