Daniel+L

Daniel L "Voices In Your Head." Chapter 1- The War At Home Twas a hot day, from what I can recall. I say “from what I can recall” because I simply cannot remember how long it’s been since we have been abandoned from society and forced to make refuge on this miserable rock. I don’t belong here. I have a life of my own. However I fear as if I will never see the crooks that form a smile on my face ever again.

I try not to be naive. I look at the other disappointments I have to live with on this island. I need their companionship like I need a hole in my head. I wonder how they could be so optimistic. “We’re going to die here!” I’ll tell them, though no one seems to take note or listen to what I have to say in regards to our survival. They act as if we are on this island for only a temporary time.

Nothing offsets my anger more than these people. They know I’m skilled in telecommunications. That’s great, in my opinion; considering the fact that we are communications. I could make myself of great service to these people, if we had a phone. Well, maybe one that was operable. I’ve been known to carry my iPhone where ever I go on this great big earth of ours. Sadly, my phone was damaged beyond repair as we descended from the sky onto this island like angels from God’s appointment. As I pierced the water, my overpriced Apple masterpiece defied the laws of physics, and took a toll on its very own life as its very own internal hard-rive was self electrocuted due to its contact with the unforgiving oceanic waters. On another note, I can’t stand the way these annoyances demand of my expertise. They look at me as if I know the answer. As if I could un-code all of life's problems, and supply a heavenly solution.

“Well, Jesus!” I’ll roar at them, “Do you seriously think I have the answers to everything?” But they simply cannot comprehend the fact that we are most likely left here to die. Even if they can, I’ve never once heard a ringing in my ear of their response; only in my head.

I think it’s normal, though. While I hate these people, I hate my life at the same time. I shouldn’t bark at these characters for everything, no matter how tired I get of everything that has turned my life upside down. Maybe if the voices stopped a little, I could contain myself.

It wasn’t our choice to be stranded on this island, and I can’t hold that against them. We all would rather be somewhere else right now. Some would rather be off dead, and left to rot in the bittersweet sun. If that’s not what they are telling me, then maybe that’s just how I feel instead. Maybe we wouldn’t be so badly endangered if each of us hadn’t been brutally cut and bruised as we jumped out of our air born inferno into the shallow crisp nightly waters of the Pacific. If only I could touch the evidence. Being logical over here, maybe seeing isn’t always believing.

I can’t hold these people accountable for my shared misfortune. That would be utter cruelty. Though, I do believe I have the right to be quite vocal about my feelings with them. Whether it’d be shouting or even screaming; depending if they even hear me or not, nothing could be more assuring right now than a simple answer at the slightest of reason or sense.

Ever since I was a baby, I’ve learned that pure solitary confinement is where a man truly finds himself. Perhaps taking a break from the public dog-ma that circulates and conusmes you, maybe having a word with yourself and an open mind analyzing the world around you through your perspective could really do some good. “Soul searching,” as my mother used to put it.

I’ve attempted this practice many a’ times on this god forsaken island. All times have been unsuccessful. I could never be alone with myself. Times like these remind me of what my mother used to say to me as a child: “Never judge a book by its cover, son.” The island appears to be deserted, and empty. Nevertheless, it would be pure ignorant of me to act oblivious to the fact that three other living souls are inhabiting the island alongside my struggle. They keep on reappearing in my sight every instance I attempt to escape them for a decently weighted time away from them.

“We, just want some help!”

“No, that won’t happen!”

“Please? We’re dying out here!”

“No, please leave me be!”

“If I die, I’d love to vanish off this planet without your miserable voices!”

“But, we’re all you’ve got! Admit it you fool!”

“Shut up, and leave the pain in my head!”

No matter how far they could travel away from me, or even how close; their spirits haunt my mindset. Nothing has scared me more in life than the little things that affect me. Maybe I’m talking to myself too much about all of this. Maybe I should stop being so overly analytical. “Should have. Could have. Would have. It is all the same,” I’ll repeat to myself, aloud. Nevertheless, “We are who we are.” Never in my life have I been so scared of that phrase. For, I have simply become my own worst enemy. I’m the demon that consumes me. Whether it be my blackened heart, or tainted soul; I’m surly in a man Vs. man situation. I am the war on the island, and this is the new “War at home” for me.

Chapter 2- Ships The palm trees wither in the wind like the flam on the tip of a simple birthday cake does as it fights to not be blown out. The wind here is like noting I’ve ever seen before; truly a masterpiece. The high and the low oceanic screams are so divine, and riveting at the same time. If there is anything that comes into the slightest comparison on this earth to my Pacific vista that would have to be the likes of taking the most scenic plane ride of your entire lifetime. The beauty is all around you. Though, if any thing we are to go wrong while you’re are air born; you could be potentially facing the most crucial life and death situation in your entire life.

*** Captain, are we gonna make something of this rescue mission and search the island?”

“Yes, eventually. However, we must research our neighbourly geographic layout of the ocean floors.”

“Sir-”

“That’s ‘Captain’ to you, peasant!”

“Ay ay, Captain. Sorry for the unintentional disrespect, Captain. I was just wondering what exactly it entails when you say we must research the geographic layout of the ocean floors.”

“D’accord. We must simply await for our naval base to send us back the confirmation of the reports. You see, son. Our nation's navy has an astronomical number of contacts to our nation’s galactic research board.”

“What does that exactly mean, Captain.”

“Well, if you’ve ever owed and patriotically paid a cent to our governments tax reform, then you’ve contributed enough to help fund a space exploration program. This program is privately ran. All the governments doing. That is all.”

“Ok? Captain-”

“Lemme guess, you still don’t get it!?”

“Uh! Well yes, Captain.”

“Long story short. Our space program sets out a large span of satellites into space. Now, these satellites take many pictures of space, especially our very own ‘planet earth.’ Primarily, these pictures find out what the geographic landscape is of our planet. Whether it’s land or water, we’ve got you covered.”

“So, essentially what you’re saying is headquaters is going to forward us the information of where it’s safe or not to anchor the ship?”

“Precisely, spot on.”

“Captain, who’s it exactly that we’re looking for?

“His name is Hugo Estaban. Apparently he’s some hotshot billionaire. The story is that he took off with his pilot on his private jet straight outta Houston. No one knows why, that would be the scariest aspect considering his mental condition isn’t exactly 100% stable according to his recent medical examinations.”

“So, what? This guy’s got a bad case of the crazies?”

“That’s what is seems like. Listen, the only reason you and I are having this discussion is because none of the other airports within the entire world have seen his plane land ever since it was reported to have left Texas. Rumour has it his jet’s G.P.S. is floating around these waters.”

“So why haven’t we left? I mean he could be dead, just floating lifelessly and left to sink for an eternity in these waters.”

“True. But I have reason to believe that the ant like figure on that rock is him. Think about it. If we rescue a scitzo billionaire from a lonesome death on a deserted island, we’ll be famous. Get our faces on the cover of every newspaper and magazine across the globe. Maybe he’ll even grant us a fair sum of cash. Sound like a sweet deal?”

“Yes, Captain. But don’t you think we’re being a little irrational right now? If you ask me, I think the entire world will look at us like that gang of innocent kids on Stand By Me. Kinda sounds like the same plot. Not everything is as it seems Captain. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to be rich and famous; but wouldn’t the simple act of us rescuing this poor man out of good will make us bigger heros?”

“Hmm, I see where you’re coming from. You certainly have a wide taste for food for thought, don’t you.”

“Yes, sir. I honestly believe we just could be known as the rogue navy men who save this poor man out of good will. At least that’s what I hope of our public image to appear as.”

“The ship's fax machine beeped in utter noise. The high frequency pitched wails were like the screams of a new born baby waking up from a dreadful night terror. The Captain reached over to to the machine to attend to the fax.

“Here, son! This is it! We can go full speed strength to shore! Ain’t nothing but sand!”

“Yes, Captain!”

The ship began to make its way toward the island at top Nautical speeds. The bow cut through the waves the way a knife cuts through room temperature margarine. Truly this was a sight to see. These men were off on a destined mission for wealth, fortune, and humanity. If one occurrence should go wrong or right. This could be potentially be the most dire decision making time of their lives. “Make it or break it.”

*** I can see for miles. The intense source of vitamin D given off by the suns rays has yet to have blinded me. However, that ship in front of me is really starting to give me the creeps. Maybe it isn’t so bad here after all. Maybe I could live the rest of my live here and form a refuge with these characters, or voices, or what ever they may be.

Perhaps hiding wouldn’t be so bad. After all I’m the man of this island. No one else.

Chapter 3- Reality The water vessel made its way through the murky waters towards the island at ease; at first. However, the sky turned black, the air got heavy, and the winds came up over the horizons towards the sea men on deck as fast and triumphantly as a speeding bullet comes firing out of a loaded handgun.

The men were knocked back off their feet. Their fall was loud. They were ransacked against the unforgiving hard wood planks in the vicious storm. Even though no one was in sight for miles upon miles; a sense of embarrassment erupted between the two’s personalities. Indeed proving them as the modern nautical odd couple.

“Owe, my lord!”

“Hehe, yes I conquer, captain!”

“Well, I’m glad there isn’t a dame in sight to have seen such a tremendous blow to your back, sport!”

“Me? Forgive while I voluntarily speak outspoken- you have are not alone in that statement! You, yourself, have taken quite the tumble, captain! Hell, you’ve fallen so hard, the splinters in your bottom have scrapped a hole in your Naval waiters!”

“Don’t get cute with me, son! It’s these god damn bi-polar conditions! I don’t understand myself right now! I’ve always loved the simple fascinations of the seas; at the same time I’ve been terrified by the unpredictable aquatic mood swings it beholds.”

“Personification much, captain?”

“How do you mean?”

“You treat the sea as if it’s a woman! There is no shame in that, perhaps the sea is your lady. ‘Simply can’t live with her, simply can’t live without her.’ The fascination could bewilder the mind of any man on earth. Yup, she’s a really ‘beaut, a dame of the dome.”

“Sorry son, that statement just hurt my manhood. Don’t bring that prissy poetry school crap out on my boat. Got it? Not here, not ever. Never!”

“I refuse to apologize for making state of your inner anger. If you can’t accept the fact that literary terms are all around us in this world, then maybe your ignorance has proven that even exiled to sea 100’s of miles away from the nearest half decent pass for civilization, you’ve clearly demonstrated the backwards stereotypical all American male conservatism that is suitable for a 17th century mind set. All I tried to do was make a simple metaphor to your irony, and you’ve failed to shut me down. Pardon yourself.”

'Ya, whatever Nancy Boy. Maybe we can talk about the butterflies and the puppy mill after we save a working man’s life from becoming an exiled working stiff with our raw two hands.” Little have these men realized that their boat was sweeping towards the sand barge on the island they were setting course for. During the uprising angered dispute aboard ship, the storm cleared, and the ship glided across the ocean’s surface towards a sand barge of rock, trees, and what appeared to be a half comatose man sun bathing with the typical melancholy body language of an exiled prisoner of any kind of misfortune.

“Look! Boy! Look at the shallow ocean floor!”

“How could this be? Is that what it looks like, captain?”

“I would assume so, my boy! The wreckage of the gazillionaires private jet must be what we have landed upon!”

“Simply fascinating...”

“Hey, don;t get on me with that fascinating crap, again!”

“What ever! You could grow some maturity and find out how we’re gonna stop the ship from crashing into a million pieces!”

“Boulderdash! We’ll just allow this great vessel to crash into the sand bar. Hell, they ain’t much we can do now anyhow. ‘Boat’s going so fast right now; it would be shy of impossible to stop the boat directly on course now!”

And then it happened: the two men hit rock bottom. The boat could no longer venture the great shallow waters of the unknown island.

*** The island roared. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I thought to myself “Wow, this is the end? People are here to rescue our souls?” Either way, the noise was coming from about 90 degrees around the corner. Maybe it’s my best interest to pay the area a visit for the sake of the islands living humanity.

I can recall eating an ice cream sundae about half an hour ago under the sun beneath the shadowy wholesome leaves of a coconut tree. However, my legs felt as if they were about to crack in two. Yet, I chose to keep on progressing myself at high speeds towards the noise. By the time I had arrived, I was surprised. I was out of breath. I was tired beyond belief. I was entering a state of deafness; I couldn’t even hear myself think. Could I be dying? How could I? Why are there two men running towards me in what appears to be Naval sea wear.

“Son, it’s him! We found our billionaire baby! We’re gonna be rich! Everyone one’s gonna want to know our name after the press finds out about this. Imagine, New York City, London, Los Angeles, Tokyo, Toronto, Lake Geneva to the free-land station!”

“Don’t hold your breath. Looks like this guy already did.” “What do you mean?”

“Lemme check for a pulse. Yup this man’s dead. His pulse is at zero, and his blood runs cold in the hot tropic sun. He’s gone.”

“No! It can’t be! My hopes! My dreams! Ruined!”

The captain dragged his knees across the sand towards the dead carcass as he sobbed his eyes out. His tears poured from his lower eyelids like rain drops. First, they seemed so innocent. Then, they seemed so angry. Disappointment, however they fell like a monsoon; perhaps the resemblance of forgiveness.

Captain or no captain. Man or no man. The captain was going to gently caress the poor body of the man who made him think they could have sought out for fortune and fame with ease. I suppose this man needed a proper resting place, even if it’s temporary. Even if it’s right in the warmth of a strangers arms.

The captain’s aide came over for comforting assistance.He figured it would be wise if he sat next to his shipmate in the sand, and helped him trough this rough time. He soflty stroked his captain’s back with ease while he repeated these words. “Nothing’s ever as it seems. Nothing’s ever as it seems. Nothing’s ever as it seems.”