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Silent Luck (A Fictional Story)

Discussion in 'Creative Archive' started by pac_halo, Sep 28, 2014.

  1. Chapter One

    James spread his cards neatly onto the table, showing his expected victory. After all, James was the top of top, the best that anyone could dream to be at the art of gambling.

    He rounded his arms around the neatly stacked chips and pulled them over to his own collection. James smiled at the large stack chips. These were his life, what he spent every moment of his wealthy life doing. He raised his cigar to his mouth and took a slow breath and he exhaled, forming smoke that rose to the ceiling and faded away, much like his opponents luck.

    The other men at the table left without a word, their sullen faces aimed at the floor in despair as James gave them a smug look from behind. He rose from his table, and walking away with a pace of arrogance and wealth. James took notice of others- drunken fools, family men, even men of wealth similar to James himself. He continued a slow pace as he pushed open the casino's doors and left as the moon rose higher.

    ~~~~~~~~~

    Victor sat quietly on the couch of his apartment. His sleepy eyes took notice of his surroundings once more- a dirty, horrible home with a crappy TV sitting parallel to his couch and a creaky sink next to a mini-fridge. Victor got up from his seat and opened the door of the refrigerator and grabbed a cheap beer. Victor returned to his seat on the couch a drank solemnly.

    Nothing could be worse than this, Victor thought.

    Expect an update, and please, any constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated.
     
    AzureEdge and Whimsical Totodile like this.
  2. James continued his slow walk home. His face had an expression of wealth itself, the essence of the higher class expelling itself from James, like an aura. The men and women that walked by him glanced in envy and resentment. James paid no attention to such people. Who were they to judge him. Why, James was far more successful, popular, and rich than all of them. Why should their opinions affect James. He walked home everyday with those thoughts racing through his mind.

    As James arrived to his top floor penthouse, James thought of something quite particular- something that held him by his shirt collar, something that demanded his utmost attention.

    "What if I were like them?" James asked himself quietly.

    James couldn't even grasp the question he had imposed on himself. It was such a perplexing abnormality that surely wouldn't happen in real life... would it?

    James shook his head in an attempt to throw off the question, but it followed him as James brushed his teeth, equipped his night clothing, and fell asleep.

    ~~~~~~~~~

    Victor sat in his couch, slowly assembling the materials he would need to sleep. He acquired a yellowing pillow and a brown quilt. Victor threw the pillow to one side of the couch and he sat his head down on it. He threw the quilt over his exposed body. Victor sat in the dark room, slowly letting his thoughts drain away into a quiet slumber.

    Note: Sorry for the late upload. Between Aventure de Gymnases, school- ugh. Enough with the excuses. I'll get it to you guys earlier.
     
  3. Green Dragon

    Green Dragon Formerly supertrainer300

    :o Did my (now dead, but whatevs) RP stop you from writing?

    :( = My face right now
     
  4. No, my computer is unplugged from the wall. Me and my family are replacing the floors and my computer cannot be used.
     
  5. Green Dragon

    Green Dragon Formerly supertrainer300

  6. James awoke with a throbbing headache. He looked to his left and saw that the sun had risen. He rose from his bed and held his hand against his forehead. The pain burned on James' skull, as if it was shrinking from it's original size. James trotted over to his bathroom, which was located opposite of James' bed. He opened the medicine cabinet and searched for a bottle of pain reliever in hopes that it would subside his pain. His eyes widened as he finally found a small bottle of pain medication marked 'Tylenol'. He opened the bottle and spilled two red pills into his hand. He hastily swallowed them both with taking any water.

    After a good three hours, James came to the conclusion that the medicine he had taken was not helping. He began to panic a bit in his mind- What if this was serious? I heard there was a disease going around...

    James took the elevator down to the ground level of his building and he rushed across the street to where his doctor was conveniently located.

    "So, you've had a headache for... three hours, Mr. Damion?" the doctor asked in a Spanish accent.

    "Yes, doctor. I woke up and I had this horrible pain," James said worriedly. "What do you think it could be?"

    The doctor asked many questions, from 'What did you eat', 'Did you take any strange drugs', normal stuff for the likes of James.

    "Well, Mr. Damion, I recommend a good night's sleep and lots of fluid," The doctor said. "Come in here tomorrow if the pain persists and we shall run a few tests," he said.

    James nodded and began to walk out of the doctor's office with his stomach still filled with butterflies. He returned into his penthouse and he sat on his red couch, thinking about the potentially disastrous future.

    ~~~~~~~~~​

    Victor awoke in cold sweat, early in the morning. He shifted his head so he could get a clear view of the outside through his small window. He observed the fiery orange of the sun as it rose into the sky. He gave a sad smile.

    He rose from the couch and he stretched painfully. He dragged himself to his minifridge, where he nabbed a 'Delicious Delights' microwaveable meal. He rested the food into the microwave and he began to press several buttons that determined the amount of time the meal would cook for.

    Victor grabbed a newspaper that had been laying on one of the cushions on the couch. He turned to the Jobs page of the paper and he began to read desperately for a job he could do. He came to no avail. He sighed in frustration and he sat back, staring at the ceiling, wondering what he could possibly do.
     

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