Fictional Pieces

The Awakening

  A fictional piece depicting the introduction of Dean's dissociation from reality. Enjoy.

It was like he was reborn as someone else when his eyes first opened. They adjusted to the lighting of the hospital bed, blinking, looking around nervously, and he didn’t recognise any of us. He stood up, while we were all shocked that he had finally come out of his four month coma and sank into his bed in fear of the familiar eyes that were staring at him. He wasn’t Dean any longer, not the friend that I remembered growing up with, but with his awakening he became a new person, and a whole new set of ambitions and drives that had turned our town upside down. He re-learned everything as if he was a new born child trapped in a twenty-two year old body, and none of us mattered to him any longer. He pushed off, being one of the only souls trapped in this town to escape, but his destructive drive didn’t allow him to complete the goals he had always talked about.

I remember when we were in grade seven. We met for the first time at the bus stop for school. He introduced me to himself as Dean and I introduced myself, offered him a seat beside me. I found out he lived no further than a block away from me and crossing through the alley behind my house was all it took to give him a visit, so naturally our friendship seemed to grow inseparable. We grew up playing on our block with the neighbour kids, skateboarding, playing road hockey, riding bikes, and more often than not, finding ourselves in subtle mischief that always lead phone calls back to my parents. It was a great time, fantastic memories, but as we aged life seemed to split us in different directions.

We were both young adults trying to advance into our career fields. I became a bank teller with hopes of reaching management and he took his skills into the field of construction. We both met up regularly for drinks and conversation to catch up on things. He had a girlfriend whom he planned on proposing to, I had a long term affair myself, and everything seemed to be going good. We were advancing in life and the future looked promising, but the accident that had caused Dean to dissociate himself was the drawback to our plans. While in a coma, doctors were certain that the brain damage could never heal, he was going to be permanently handicapped, never able to have normal conversation ever again, and in a heat of emotions Jill, Dean’s girlfriend and fiancé left town and refused to be attached to a vegetable for the rest of her life.

It was a sad scene to witness and I felt truly sympathetic for everything that had been happening to Dean, but I promised that I wouldn’t abandon him when or if he ever became conscious of the world ever again. He was my friend, my best friend in fact, and I was determined to try and make his awakening to the world as smooth as I could. What I didn’t know was that a monster would wake from that coma, overtaking the the body of the best friend I had ever known, and turn the world I knew upside down.

A Reach for the Parallel

This is a fictional little snippet that I wrote about Steve, a lost soul obsessed in creating himself a new reality.


Do you ever notice that any time anyone tells you not to do something you instantly want to do it? Or that no plan ever seems to work out how you want it to? My name is Steven, a pretty common name I guess. My entire life has been spent rarely socialising with anyone, or ever feel the urge to. Growing up I had one true passion, and that was for fame. I don’t understand what I liked so much about the idea, but it naturally pulled my attention towards things that seemed impossible. For example, I wanted to act, be a famous movie star or something, but there’s no chance of that ever happening where I live. I’m not sure if what I craved was the money, the attention and popularity, being known? When that didn’t work out I went to music. I enjoyed the thrill of creating music, creating whatever kind of feel that I was in the mood for with a harmonic symphony of my amp as distorted as it possibly could be. The roar of the vibrations giving me full authority of my own sound, and I struggled to turn it into some kind of fame.

It was difficult, but I managed to find some other band mates. None of them seemed to have the drive to push their talents like I did. The image of fame wasn’t as important to them. Nick told me, “It’s not about selling out dude, it’s about the music.”

I couldn’t fathom what he was trying to tell me. The music? How could it be just about the music? It’s only sound. It’s displaced by vibrations depicting our feelings, but what good is it if only we listened to it? I couldn’t handle his attitude towards music so I appointed myself the one to get rid of him. I was doing the band a favour, but they didn’t see it that way.

Outside of the band, my only other friend was an average at everything sort of person named Barney. It was a difficult name to take serious. I always thought of the dinosaur. But unlike me he didn’t seek fame. He did his school-work because his parents told him to, he didn’t play video games because they didn’t let him do that either. He was a slave to his parents, never allowed to go out, and not allowed to play guitar because they thought it was trashy. They were a family moulded by a strong ignorant attitude towards trying to represent perfection. Like the image of a perfect family. They had brand new vehicles, a car and a jacked-up truck in their four-car garage, and a decently sized house. They were by no means rich, you could tell they were struggling but they always had to have the best of everything. It looked pathetic trying to maintain a life like that, so I kept on pushing to find fame, so it could solve all of my problems.

No More Resistance

People are versatile, just give them a chance
Even in the worst situation notes seem to dance
Punk rockers want to be your friend and gangsters want to be your bud
Just let things work out and dry up the mud
When everyone is happy, the world can become a place of peace
Most people avoid confrontation, why does the world need police?
Just open your arms to freedom, let ideology exist in the past
Forget simple theoretical solutions; embrace our life while it lasts
When the end comes to finish us, don’t regret the past
Everyone wonders about the unknown, with fear irrationality, and pride
Because their ideas are different, they let our worlds collide
We are all the same inside, acceptance is what we seek
So don’t judge the different, just try to take a peek
There’s more to the world then what you’re parents have told you
Look beyond the homeland, there’s more to what you do
We’re all imbalanced programs, just trying to get by
Let’s help out one another - life can be simple if we try.