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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Supernatural · #1990894
A great shift-inspired story of a young student from Hungary. Written like a journal.
April 20, 2014



So, I've decided to start a journal at long last in the english language. A real one, for myself, and not for one of my characters in my roleplays. Some may call this a diary, but I prefer the word journal. It sounds more professional, doesn't it?



Well, I suppose I should introduce myself to the eventual reader, whether family member or stranger. I wonder how a stranger would get his or her hands on this item of mine. In any case, I'm rambling so let me get to what I intended this paragraph to be. My name is Richard Smith, and I am a student of chemistry and English from Hungary. I'm a gamer at heart, but I study martial art (both eastern and western) and live an active life. Recently I've began studying Danish and practicing parkour so I have plenty of things to write about! I'm seventeen years old and I am still in but my first year of vocational High School. When I finish in seven years, I will move from Hungary to Denmark and try to find an university to study at, and some work to do until I finish.



So as to not leave this entry without any movement, let me pen the events of this day. Well, I could finally use my newfound skills at Parkour for I had to run for my life. Well, more like money. Thing is, it was a very rainy day and I didn't want to get wet; normally I do not take the bus and when I do there are no ticket inspectors. None of my friends had met a single ticket inspector since january, so this was truly an unexpected encounter. You may ask "But what was the encounter?" Well, I'm getting to it! I got on the bus, catching it just in time from a mad sprint, and at the same time as myself a tall and muscular man came on as well, pulling a bandage up his sleeve and announcing: "Tickets and passes!"



I remained calmed, having kept a ticket just for this occassion. I admit, the ticket had already been validated but I was careful. I seriously doubted that anyone can spot the marks. As it turns out, I was wrong and the inspector was onto me. I held him up with words until we got to the bus stop I intended to reach, then both of us got off to continue our parlay. I kept telling him that I cannot pay the fine (which is true, because I'm not from the richest family; frankly, rather poor but still got enough to maintain my connectivity to the world). He wouldn't have it, so we continued on for minutes. Seeing that I can't talk my way out, I began watching the traffic lights and the crowds and took a tactical approach to the entire thing. It was perfect. The moment he uttered "I am afraid I have tried everything, sir", I pulled my head between my shoulders and dashed just beside him. To ensure he can't catch my ponytail, I showed him aside slightly as I crashed into the crowd. I threw people out of my way, careful not to hurt anyone frail in my escape, as I rushed for the corner. There I broke into a mad sprint until I ran at least a hundred metres. As if on cue, the traffic lights switched to yellow and the man appeared on the corner. I made a sharp turn and dashed across the traffic, vaulting over bars and cars as I made my escape.



I was wet, I was miserable, I was about to spit my lungs out; but I didn't have to pay the corrupt BKV and I was filled with pride. I eventually hid in a deep garage, just out of sight. I spent about two dozen minutes down there before mantling the wall from a run and went to return to the railway station. I let my hair down, turned my red jacket inside out so that it was blue, and stalked crowds on my way back. I did everything to avoid detection. My heart skipped a beat when a police car passed nearby, but then I just laughed at myself. What I did was nothing illegal. Eventually I reached the hill upon which the railway sat. I avoided the stairs for it'd be too obvious, considering that the bus stop was just across the road; instead I approached the grassy side, planting fingers in the muddy ground as I clawed my way up. I ducked from the railway after tossing my schoolbag on the platform, arriving with some personal grace at the station. After the onlookers ceased their stare, I covered my face with my wet mess of raven hair and hid behind a beam. I knew I was home free when the train stopped. I could not help but smirk when I saw the bald globe of the man who tried to skin me search the crowd.



April 24, 2014



So typical of me, not making an entry for days. What did I expect from myself, master of procrastination? Trust me, I am exaclty that. I had been given maths homework for three weeks in advance, lots of homework but plenty of time to finish; and what did I do; I did it on the last bloody day.



But ah well, time to chronicle more of my uninteresting life. I've finally performed my first flip, and I started shotgun learning the use of the spear in both Eastern and Western styles. It's quite enlightening. To an outside viewer, they are the same, but to the practicioner they are so vastly different, I could write an essay on it. Actually, I may as well write one and publish it somewhere. Wonder if it's a good idea though, Youtubers will most likely attack it with comments like "Katana ze best!" Whatever, you cannot enlighten those who do not wish it. Ignorance is a bliss, or so said every protagonist of Lovecraft's works.



Speaking of the Yog-Sothoth of horror, I found a creepy note today on the train as I rode it to school. I doubt it was anything serious, most likely a prank. Basically, as I was making myself comfortable, checking the tray to see if it has any chewing gum stuck to its underside (so that I may avoid rubbing my knee into one), I found a piece of paper planted there with one such sticky substance. Curious, I removed and read it. It told me that I will find myself wanting for the normal, for the world will plunge into chaos and but only a few will remain the way they were. It then trailled off into some gibberish of a language.



April 25, 2014



Two entries following one another. Impressive of me, the most impressive. Today is friday, meaning I have no school tomorrow and for that reason I went out with my friends. We had had some beers (yes, by most countries' standards( especially amerikuh's), I'm underage; but by Germany's standards, I'm one year late! I'll follow Germany's standards because it's a sane country unlike mine. Oh boy, how much I wish I was born in Denmark or England or Germany or Australia or basically any place that hasn't been dying for at least five centuries. This country is hopeless, and I will stand by that whatever you tell me. Sure, there are countries that are worse off, but with us being right next to the Ukraine-Russia crisis, with trigger-happy politicans; i'll say this country is destined to blow itself up.



In any case, I am beginning to doubt that the note was a simple prank. When it became dark, we did our typical visit to the abandoned house just off our us

April 29, 2014ual meeting place. Feeling adventureous, I climbed inside and explored a bit. Boy, did it smell! But the smell wasn't really anything I smelled before, and as a chemist-in-training, I smelled some weird stuff in the lab. I can't really explain it, it just smelled a bit like hydrogen-sulfide, but it didn't really match up to the characteirstic rotten egg smell. Being blessed with a strong nose, I looked around the dark house until I came upon a room lit by candles. I chuckled, apparently finding the place our local "witches" used. Or so I thought. Examining the contents of the room I found references to the note from yesterday, both the warning and the strange language. There was a pentagram on the ground, much like the way I imagine the Elder Sign. it was warped, it had a strange glow to it and it seemed to be placed in just the perfect position. I soon noticed that it was reflected on all the mirrors that filled the room, and there were quite a few. Mostly in the corners, ceiling and floor. On further exploration I noticed that the ceiling was rotting away, so i made my way out.



The day passed without anything else happening, but I occassionally found my attention brought to the strange house whenever I thought of things I wanted.



April 26, 2014



Saturday! The time to say home all day and combine practice with gaming.



I found my mind drawn to the strange house once more everytime someone mentioned "wish", "hope" or "dream", but reading my previous entry and searching my memories reveal a different house than the one I keep imagining. The one in my mind seems to have a hole in the middle of the roof, while the one I visited had it intact.



I also did my monthly check of the social media I have other than the forums of that one roleplaying server I am an old-timer at. Mostly garbage, but I found some mentions of the weird note again. I also found the densest mentions of the three words around the posts relating to the weird note.



April 27, 2014



Sunday! The day of Dungeon master-hosted roleplay. Awesomesauce. That's the only word that can describe this day!



And finally, other than my wandering mind, no references to that note. Looks like that blown up prank finally died out.



I'm not describing the roleplaying event here because I prefer to keep it IC.



April 28, 2014



Monday, school once more.



Seems like that blown-up prank is still happening. But it's getting a bit creepy to be honest. I keep finding those notes, but their message seems to have changed. Now they read:

"Wish from deep down

Your hope won't be blown

Go to the star you found familiar

On the day of rot

Where the blot

Becomes yours to mirror."

I couldn't chuckle at the strange poem, but only wonder of its meaning. I would have chuckled if I found it elsewhere, but these notes only appeared where I made myself comfortable. I checked under other trays, but I came up empty-handed. I also checked on the other wagons, but they were empty as well. However, after I sat down and leant back, glancing out of the window for a spell, I felt something at my feet. Looking down, I found the note once more.



I went a convulated way back home, using my skills at parkour to trace a difficult route quickly. I've a feeling someone is watching me.



April 29, 2014



Tuesday, an uneventful day save for the notes.



I saw the bald globe of the ticket inspector today. He stared at me as if he wanted to gut me, but by law I was enjoying immunty from whatever he would try. I did not push my luck though, I'm not the bullying type. I just acknowledged him with a nod and walked past him, giving him a wide birth of course.



April 30, 2014




Wednesday, normally a sucky day but today a day of awesome for it was fairday for my school!



We had all kinds of fun, from playing a survival board game with a group of fellow nerds and geeks at the game room, to identifying herbs using all of our senses.



I encountered more notes, and whenever I read one I can't help but think of that strange little house with the rotting ceiling. Now that I think of it, that ceiling won't last longer than six or seven days at most. I should check back at May the First, at midnight. I am curious how the candle room will look like with all the rubble. Maybe I can find something that I will be able to pawn off.



May 1, 2014



National-holiday, no school.



I've copied my journal online into my dropbox account. Knowing my excellent ability to mess paper up, it's for the best.



I'm planning to make a bout to the abandoned little house tonight. I've prepared flashlights and bags. I also found one of the notes outside my house and for that reason I'm bringing a knife with me. I've a feeling I have a stalker on me, but he won't get me by surprise.



May 12, 2014



What in the bloody hells. Thank whatever powers there be that I found a working laptop with internet access so that I could download my journal from Dropbox and copy into the new one I started.



Things have gone out hand very fast. I have been struggling to survive for days now.



What happened? Fiction that's what, or is it reality? I've no bloody clue anymore. I remember visiting that old house and finding the candle room unharmed and tidy to the level of obsession. The ceiling was gone, and the moon shone straight at the warped star on the ground. Unlike before, it was covered in what seemed to be a circular line, but as I inspected it from closer I found that it was actually made from such a density of tiny words that from afar I thought it was continuous. I couldn't read what was there, for it was constantly warping. For a while, I cursed the light conditions but my flashlight didn't help either.



That is when I noticed the mirrors. They've had words on them, but I couldn't read them until I stood in the center of the star. And that is when I could read them, all eight of them. They've read "Pazienra Tilabil, darastrix vitas. Pazienra wedabra, vitae regia." I was foolish enough to mutter then out loud, only then noticing that they were the same as words on the star which stopped warping. I stopped, then intrigued I've read them aloud again and the candles flickered. I wasn't scared, I was having too much fun to be scared. Something weird was going on, and it thrilled me.



And that's the last I remember before I was blinded with a white light. I felt myself drifting, but I did not feel my body. I just.. felt as if I was moving with nothing to move. It was an unknown amount of time that I spent in this strange limbo. Eventually it turned to dreams. Some pleasant, some unpleasant; but nothing of interest.



What was of interest was what I saw when I awoke. I found myself lying against a soft ground with trees blocking the midday sun above me. Red hair was in my face. The fact that hair was in my face didn't seem strange, but the fact that it was blood red did. I quickly shot from the ground, grasping around my head, searching for a wound but found none, only more of the red hair and a strange sensation at my chest. I stopped once more, and just sat dead still. The birds were chirping, and there was nothing wrong with the forest I was in except for the fact that it was around me. I thought that I had been kidnapped, and I did feel wrong but not in the way I imagined. I did pick up some strange sounds, some confused chirps, but I waved it aside.



Eventually I did stand up to lean against a tree and examine the situation. It was a great oak, and its presence made me more at ease, as if its natural form wanted to prepare me for something no man would expect to find on himself. Breasts. Somehow, I had became a woman. A red haired woman to be exact. And there it was, all reason, all logic thrown to the wind as I freaked out and continued doing so for a while.



I eventually decided I needed to find civilisation. Keeping to my personal tradition of going west until hitting something of importance, I embarked on my journey. Strangely enough, I found a backpack and a hiker's stick. I collected both, finding the backpack useful because of the rations and water it contained, and the stick because of the safety it provided me with.



I kept pressing west for what seemed to be hours, giving my new legs a workout. I doubt this body ever walked such a distance as I made that day, but I was not going to stay in a forest for the night. And I did not, by the time night fell I was by the side of a road, tired and miserable. I sighed, sitting down to eat and drink. I took the time to take note of the extent of the change.



The assessment that I made during my journey seemed valid. I was short now. I hadn't been tall before, having stood at around 174 CMs or 5'8 using imperial units if my calculations are right, but now I felt short. Looking at my legs covered in comfortable jeans, I couldn't help but feel awkward how short they appeared. In comparison to my torso, they were long but that only meant my torso was even shorter. I couldn't figure out just how short I became until I came upon a person, but at that moment I had already known that I was small. And most likely vulnerable. And I did not like that, not one bit. This realisation stopped any further explorative attempts and I resumed my refueling process before returning to my journey.



My body must have been going on reserve energy for somehow I managed to spend an entire day walking with only a dozen or two minutes of rest here and there to eat and drink. When I finally reached a town, I was dumbstuck. Windows were broken, houses abandoned and cars piled up in the cross-sections. There was dried blood here and there, but whatever bodies there must have been were carried off. There was almost nobody on the streets, only myself.



At least, that was the case for a while. Occassionally I saw momevements in houses, but I did not investigate, rather keeping to the main road. Soon I heard footsteps, and someone called out: "Hey lady". I did not react, of course, but eventually an arm grasped my shoulder, turning me to face a man twice my height. I showed his hand aside despite differences in our physical strength and stepped away. I told him that I was no lady, but he just chuckled and told me that he heard that before. As I tried to question him what happened, he just told me he doesn't care, telling me he woke up to the noise and that he could grab things for free and he was about to do the same. Recognising the threat in his voice, I asked what he wanted exactly. Eventually, the brute pointed at my backpack. I've grit my teeth, clenching my fist around my stick as I took my backpack and handed it to him the most awkward way I could. Knowing full well he'd want more than my backpack, I grasped my stick with two hands and made a swing to his groin the moment my hand was freed. Not relenting, I smashed it into both of his knees and elbow, before driving it into his bicep to make sure he was harmless. I was lucky to catch him flat-footed, for I doubt i'd have stood a chance in fair combat.



As my adrenaline rush faded, I began to feel extremely light headed. Knowing that fainting was not far off, I quickly looked for an abandoned house, broke in and barriaced the entrances and windows before collapsing ungracefully on the floor.



I think I was out for a day. When i came to I was kind of relived to find myself unharmed, but annoyed that it wasn't but a nightmare. I ate the rations I had remaining and drank what bottled water was left. I examined the house, still running on survival instinct and found it to be safe enough to rest. And I needed rest, I could barely stand with my foot in splinters. Eventually I found an empty notebook in which I started a journal, then eventually a laptop in the basement with internet connection.



And we're in the now.



So, how do I look like now? On further inspection that was done with the use of running water, for which i was extremely glad because I was starting to smell, I found that I was a woman to the T. My body, as far as I can tell, appears to be about the same age as I had been. It was a strange experience to say for sure. It was only when I showered did my guard finally drop enough so that I could take in what had happened. Suffice to say, it felt nice, but too weird to enjoy it. But I'm still having a survival guard on though. I wish I had someone I knew to talk to, I am starting to feel lonely.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1990894-Those-bloody-notes---prologue