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Taking a Stand
Written By Shane Roach
Warning: Contains Language, Violence and Oppression of Goths.

There once was a young Goth kid of 16 who was tormented everyday by his peers and family. His mother did not agree with his Gothic lifestyle and tried to change him constantly but to no avail. His mom's boyfriend made fun of the way the boy did things. The young man wrote songs, stories and poems to get by. This worked but only to the point where he could not take it.
One night, the young man rented a movie to watch with his family. He chose a Gothic classic: Edward Scissorhands. He figured that if he showed this movie to his family, he would be left alone by them. He was wrong...
When he showed his family the movie, they were outraged. They could not believe that their son had brought such "trash" into their peaceful home. They were fed up with their son and his "awkward" ways.
"You are going to burn those clothes! You will NOT rent anymore movies like this, and YOU WILL NOT WRITE THOSE SONGS, STORIES AND POEMS! I'LL BURN 'EM MYSELF IF I HAVE TOO, BUT THEY WILL NOT STAY IN THIS HOUSE!!!" The boyfriend yelled in his son's face other words so vile that they should not be repeated.
"Fine. I will burn my lifestyle to the ground. I ask only one thing though. Will you give me a few days to do it?" The son begged for an hour or so until they gave in. They gave him three days. That would give him just enough time to execute his plan...

On day one, the young Goth went to school in his normal outfit, getting a look of disgust from his mother and her boyfriend as he walked out the door, but he was going to change something today. He was going to disrupt the "social order" and tear down the barriers that seperated the social classes.
After third period, he was walking to his locker when he was cornered by some a*****e. The young Goth knew he couldn't fight on school grounds, but he really had no other choice. He got ready to fight...
"What makes you think that you're better than the rest of us? You think that you can just walk around like you own the school!? Well, I've got news fo..."
The young Goth had heard enough. He slammed his fist into the face of that jerk and continued his assault. When he was finally pulled off by some other Goth kids, who had waited until this b*****d had gotten what he deserved, the boy on the ground was bleeding from his face pretty badly.
At lunch some of the other Goths were talking about what this kid had done. They were talking about how badly the kid was beaten, and what he looked like after the young Goth had been pulled off. They were all talking about following his example and when the young man heard this, he was pleased, knowing that the "social order" was already crumbling. He had just given it a well needed kick in the a**.
When the youth got home, his mom and her boyfriend were silent. They stared at him like a caged tiger. They knew they would be safe until he broke out and then there would be hell to pay.

On day two, the youth went to the mall and bought even MORE Goth clothes. He wanted to piss off his parents so much, especially his father, and have them hit him. If they did that, their asses were his. As you can tell, the youth was pissed and he had had enough of the bullshit he had gotten at home and school. He was on his way to being something all the Goths at his school wished they could be: understood and accepted.
When he got home, he gathered all his possesions and moved it inconspicously to a store house in the next town. He made arrangements to spend a few nights at a friend's house. He also bought a few matches at the town's store, telling the clerk he was building a bonfire and needed a few matches. The youth thought to himself, "Oh yeah. It will be one hell of a bonfire alright."
That night he told his parents about his new clothes and they got pissed. The boyfriend looked like he was ready to kill him. The mother was just upset.
"Are you ********' stupid!? Yer just gonna have ta burn 'em tommorow! You stupid b*****d!"
The boyfriend puched the youth in the face as hard as he could. The Goth slid across the floor and landed up against the wall. He slowly staggered to his feet. He reached up and touched his face to find that his nose had been broken and he was bleeding from the mouth.
"You... son of a b***h. You better pray to your god, I don't get ahold of you. If I do... *cough, hack* ...I'll ********' kill you..." The boyfriend was surprised at hearing this and the mother just backed away. "You hear me, a*****e? If I *spits blood* get ahold of you, nothing will save you. I will rip your heart out and feed it to you," the youth turned to his mom, "And you... how could you let him do that? You know what? *Cough, cough* I hate you both, so just leave me the hell alone..."
The Goth walked to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. He laughed a little bit. "I guess that I won't be getting any dates..." He spit up blood into the sink and turned on the water. He washed his blood-stained hands. He thought about how this was going to be such sweet revenge...

The final day had come. This was the day he had to burn his Goth stuff... and the day of his revenge. He woke up at 3 AM and got dressed in a pair of black Rob Zombie sleep pants and a Disturbed shirt. He then reversed all the locks in the house so that anyone inside, was going to stay inside. He also made sure he put thick 10" glass over the windows. Then he rigged the whole thing to lock anyone inside in when he pressed a button.
"I'm gonna go get my stuff, okay? I'm sorry for being such a bad son. I'm gonna make sure that from now on, you'll get EXACTLY what you deserve!" He said this so innocently, and sickeningly sweet, that the believed him.
His mother approached him before he went out to the garage to get his "stuff." She had a look of triumph on her face. He didn't like it.
"After you get that s**t burned, we are going to get you new white clothes, get you baptised and drive you to school and have you apologise to that boy. Oh and before you go..." She slapped him as hard as she could. "That's for mouthing off, you ******** pile of s**t!"
"Thank you, mother. I appreciate the gesture. I look forward to all that stuff!" The youth could barely contain his anger, but he somehow did. He walked out the door to the garage and smiled.
The youth pressed the button and watched as his "family was locked inside. He walked in front of the house and called out his victory to them. He smiled wickedly.
"I'm returning the favor, dear family! I'm going to return the favor for the punch, you ********! And what the hell did you need to slap me for!? I was gonna let you escape, but now you're in the same boat as him, b***h! NOW YOU WILL BURN!"
He light the entire matchbook on fire and threw it on the ledge above him. The fire spread quickly like a demon from hell. The youth watched with anticipation as his last little surprise was put in effect. There was a long fuse coming out from the chimney. The youth watched as the fuse light and sped down the chimney. He listened closely...
All of a sudden, the house erupted with explosions coming from inside. He began to laugh in a wicked tone. "Hmhmhmhmhmhahahahaha! Muahahahahahah! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA! BURN TO THE GROUND!"
He then ran out to the road and cried for help. He finally saw the fire truck coming. He ran out to it and told the firefighters that a spark from the chimney had started the fire and had melted the handles, locking his parents inside. he started to cry and held onto one of the ladders on the side of the truck.


The young Goth had gotten away with it, as he was on his way to spend a few nights with his friend, who knew all about his plan, and "grieve over the unfortunate loss of his family". He smiled wickedly in the back of the car. He had won...
The police had found nothing, the firefighters had found nothing and the paramedics had a couple of corpses to treat! He smiled even more wickedly and held in a triumphant laugh. He knew he was finally going to have a life where no one would mess with him as much as his parents did. He would hang around the Goth clubs and make money by singing his songs and reading his poems. He actually came out pretty well. How do I know this? Well, I know because I'm the friend he stayed with...

Thanks. Post one of your own. I'd love to see what awaits in the dark recesses of your mind. twisted Oh... could you please spread the word? I'm doin' the best I can but it's not enough... sweatdrop

If you guys like gothic stories, check out this website:

http://pfaff.newton.cam.ac.uk/mirrors/syndaine/www.very.net/nikolai-1997/

It's a website of someone who has started writing sci fi stories. I particularly like the ones about the Maracites and Raummir: Planet of the Goths.

They really are brilliantly gothic! 3nodding

Is it okay if the story isn't necessarily "Gothic". I have a story I'm writing that follows the lives of a select few individuals as the human race is slowly destroyed by an deadly and incurable pathogen.

The full version of the prologue and first chapter.





Please keep in mind that these story's are only a rough draft of the main story I am writing.







Earth... What is it? A beautiful blue sphere floating in the vastness of space. It harbors life, and this life harbors love... But it also harbors hatred and greed... And this story is a horrific witness to what this greed and hatred can do.


Daemon sighed... Another patient already? This was the 23rd admitted today, all of them with this same strange sickness. It didn't seem serious, the patients experienced mild inflammation of muscles and shortness of breath. And it didn't seem to be contagious. And yet... Something about it worried Daemon Hays. Daemon had been working at St. Johns hospital as a clerk ever since he had moved to Memphis and this was the weirdest disease yet. He gave a small shudder and turned back to his computer screen.


Travis trudged bristly down the sterile, brightly lit corridor. Every day it seemed the same old thing, go to the lab, check in, study some old generic virus and go home. "Nothing exciting ever happens" he thought... As he fumbled for the right key to unlock his lab room, he heard footsteps. His lab partner, Nathan Bates turned the corner, "Travis" he said, "we're wanted in the main conference room" " somethings big turned up and they want us on it right away". Travis couldn't help but smile, maybe something exciting was finally happening to him. He gathered up his briefcase and heading down the hallways at a brisk pace. Little did he realize just how exciting it would turn out to be.


The horrific stench of dead and rotting corpses filled Jack's Nostrils as he and the Red Cross volunteer next to him heaved the body into the huge mass grave in front of them. As he turned around to pick up another he regretted ever signing up for relief work. He wanted to help, but he didn't know this was what helping meant. As he picked up the next body he began to wonder what exactly was happening. It seemed that the entire region of the lower Congo was plagued by a horrible disease. Hundreds were dying every day, it was becoming worse than the Ebola outbreaks. Did the governments of the world just not care. Jack sighed and heaved the body bag into the hole.


Emily walked down the hall of the hospital, she was told she was lucky, all the other people who had contracted the strange sickness had shown no sign of improving, but she had completely kicked the disease in a matter of days. Emily was looking forward to a nice cup of coffee as soon as she got home. Suddenly, her world lurched as a wave of violent and painful spasms racked her body, she felt like she might explode, she looked down and to her horror saw blood pouring from her skin and pooling underneath her. She fell to the floor and writhed in agony.








Book One.
The Sickness.


Chapter 1

Daemon watched his computer screen go black. His shift was over and the frenzied activity of the previous hours had died down. Daemon gathered up his papers and prepared to leave the hospital. When suddenly he heard a muffled groaning. He walked down the hallway and saw a small form laying on the floor. "Help me" "please...". He rushed over to the small form, and almost threw up. In front of him was lying a girl of about 17 years of age, she had moderately long black hair and was wearing a hospital gown. But she was lying in a spreading pool of blood. "Oh my God!" Daemon yelled. He quickly down the hall and saw a doctor going into a room. "Help" he said, "there's a patient lying in a pool of blood out there!!".
The doctors managed to get the bleeding under control. She was identified as Emily Carnitha. She was admitted to the hospital for the strange mystery disease. The doctor clapped Daemon on the shoulder. "If you hadn't found her then she would have died for sure" "you saved a life today". "We'll give you her results tomorrow", "you did good". Daemon walked out to his car. Was he the only one who found this all strange? Why did this happen? Did the mystery disease have any connection to Emily's horrible condition? Travis drove home, still wondering.

Travis looked up from his microscope, exhausted. This was the third all-nighter at the lab yet. The committee's instructions had been simple. Identify the strange pathogen, and try to find a way to control it. And most important of all, do not let anyone know of this. Travis sighed... What was this thing, it wasn't like anything he had ever seen. It was a virus, but it acted like a living thing. And it mutated. It mutated so much that it may as well have been evolving. So far it had changed three times. Not severely, but still. Travis sighed and turned back to his microscope, and recoiled. He looked again, and couldn't believe his eyes. Somehow a small single-celled organism had found it's way onto the slide, and the virus was viciously attacking it. Travis had made his decision. The committee would have to contain this thing. It was just too dangerous.

TO BE CONTINUED....

I would post one of mine but it takes forever to read, if you are in one of the word processors then it's about 5 pages so on here, it is really long and it deletes all of the formatting.

If you want to read gothic short stories about medical conditions, ghosts, murder, suicide, tea and poison and insane patients locked in an Institute, then visit my blog at http://instituteforcorruptandmisunderstood.blogspot.com/p/about-institute.html Here you can not only read gothic short stories, but poems and find inspiration and sanctuary against the problems of reality.