Who's Crazy?

Ming-Chi Sun

 

Who's Crazy?

 

09/05/2014

 

Crazy. Crazy! Crazy? "Such obnoxious behavior is not allowed at the dinner," said escape artist."The word crazy should only be used when you're performing, "said he. He gently scooped up a big ol' thing of chowder. His index finger runs smoothly to the tip of the spoon. I could only anticipate what he might do next. "Would you like to see my mustache?" said he. I nodded, joyfully clapping my hands together repeatedly. "Okay, now watch beneath his noise inhaling the aroma through his nose holes. "With a little sprinkle of magic...," said he, as he gesture his hands in a pinching position. My mum sits adjacent from me with a blank expression as though if she was just slapped by a plate full of boredom. "You ready? Honey! Watch! watch this! It's magical," said he. My mum rolled her eyes and excuse herself to go clean her dish. Behind me hangs a lithograph copy of "The Scream". I guess even he is anticipating too. He then quickly dive his finger into the chowder and pulling it back up. A catapult of catastrophe flung at me with Jackson Pollock style. Cheesy cream scattered across my face with a diced carrot landing on my noise. A piece of potato landed on the painting behind me, shutting him up for once. "Aha! Now that's magic!" he said, kissing the tip of all five of his fingers. "You're crazy daddy!" I shouted. "Now dear, what did I say about using the word crazy, he said while trying really hard to keep a poker face. Suddenly I heard a scream, "Ah! there's a mouse in the kitchen!" "You see miss little snowman, I'm not crazy... the crazy one is your mother," said dad. "She is crazy, just like you," he said with a hearty laugh.

 



Durham 2114

Ming-Chi Sun

 

"Durham 2114"

 

09/05/2014

 

The saltpeter and sulfuric particles poured into my mouth, leaving an awful bitter taste. Ditches and bunks found everywhere on the road. Abandoned vehicles blockaded all the freeways. Overran quarantine zones marks as the dump site for the executed trespassers and home to countless degenerate groups. This is Durham, 2114. It was once an ordinary city with culturing food and clean air. Now it's nothing more than a barren wasteland.

 

There was no sense of order, even if there were order, no one will follow. Vacant retail stores houses the loud wilder beasts and raided containers. Acid rain corroded away the concrete compound, building weaker than that were either charred or demolished for scraps. No one dare to walk the street for there are gun barrels sticking out of every window, some are just for scare, but others are fully operated and manned.

 

 

We could only rely on close comrades and the people who owe you favors. Underground tunnels serves as safe routes to escape the line of fire. I work with four other members, all without families, and without purpose, and all without tears. Several weeks back we had ten members, but one of them gave away our cover and consequently five of them paid the ultimate price. No tears were spared for we have none, no prayers were said, for we've been abandoned, and no love to give, for that doesn't exist anymore.

 

 

Provisions runs low with every passing day. We live off gumbo meals, expired medicine, and very little sanitized water. When we ran low, we either scavenge stores far away, steal from others, and in some cases we bait and kill. All of us write, we write everybody, whether is now found skills, reclaimed memories, or how many head shots we got. We write extensively to keep sanity, to kill time, and to preserve. Some days we would risk being shot to steal books and documents.

 

 

Every week there will be a man that roams our street with a red cap. Everyone makes peace with him, he owes nobody, helps nobody, nor hurt nobody. He brings bounty posters, ammunition, food supplies, medicines, mails, news, and essentially anything you might want or need. Everyone knows as "The Wanderer". He was a honest merchant in my opinion and although we don't see eye to eye during trades sometimes, but I felt he was a light source in the dark. However, that stopped about a month ago, no one knew where he went or where he comes from. We practically just assumed the poor fellow died of illness or armed robbery. With him gone, regular supplies stop coming in, and rival gangs started fighting relentlessly day and night, slaughter the helpless along the way. No one dares to speak, so no one did.

 

Today was a rough day, very rough day. One of my members decided to take the easy way out. We found him in a pool of blood, two other members broke off after witnessing it. I was totally prepared for the last member to leave as well, but surprisingly he stayed. Everything that was unexpected is now expected. What once was uncommon is now common. This is just the regular routine, another average day in Durham. The long thick grass outside dances in the gale; sounds of crickets killed the peace. Gray clouds covered the crescent moon stealing the night light from the living. Darkness crawls onto my paper, slowly creeping towards me inch by inch. This is going to be a cold night. Take another bite, write another page, live another day.

 

-Kayden Wingerfield

 

Lesson of the Day: I desire so to conduct the affairs of this administration that if at the end, when I come to lay down the reins of power, I have lost every other friend on earth, I shall at least have one friend left, and that friend shall be down inside of me. -Abraham Lincoln

 

Floor 72

Ming-Chi Sun

"Floor 72"
09/1/14

The 75 watts light bulb flickers above the two business man. The door closes and the men are confide to this 7 x 10 x 12 steel prison. Both men were well dressed with gentleman stance and sapphire eyes. The two had pressed the button for the same floor, which happens to be the rooftop of Re-Live Casino. Slow Jazz echos from built-in stereo. "You know this is getting old Ken," said Lewis. Ken looked at him and chuckled. He slithered into his coat pocket to fetch his usual cigarette, The Wither Grove 72'. "Lewis, when do you think we can put things aside for once? You know? When we can grab a drink downstairs like ol' time," said Ken with an unlit cig. in his mouth. Lewis turned to Ken with a gold plated lighter in his hand. "Allow me," said Lewis as he cups his lighter over the cigarette. Lewis checked his fancy pocket watch and said "Any day, but today."

 There are 73 floors at Re-Live Casino and 75 buttons on the floor selection panel. Two buttons were special, one button is used for emergencies and the other one for opening and closing the door to the elevator. They just passed floor 20, also known as the "Sleepless Layer". There was a moment of silence in the cold chamber; Ken slowly wiggle his velvet red tie until it was loose enough to be removed. "Where will you go if this day could be avoided," Lewis asked. The breeze from the air conditioner course through the back of their collars, chilling their spines instantly. There was no response from Ken. Lewis reached for his aquamarine tie, untightening it from his neck. Both tie dangled over their abdomens.

Just as they pass floor 48, one of the bulb blew out. "We are almost there, you ready?" said Ken. Lewis approaches the exit, he raises his hand and swiped over the floor selection panel, hitting every button except the two special ones. "Now I am ready," said Lewis. The two smiled at each other with a forced smile. Suddenly, Ken threw a left hook, a hard blow embossed in Lewis' right cheek. Ken's knuckles and Lewis' cheek merged with perfect precision. Lewis with his eyes closed returns a favor with an upper cut. Part of the chard tobacco flings into the air. Sweat and blood drips from their chins onto the ceramic tile flooring. The onslaught lasted for hours, they fought on the floor, on the wall and in each other's min. The two eventually went back to their corners and collapse from exhaustion. Dark red syrup runs from their nostril, from the tip of their eyebrows and their bruised knuckles.

The elevator stopped at floor 72 and seem to have malfunctioned and refused to reach for the rooftop. The disappointed duo got up, dusting off their pants and wiping the blood from their faces. They took off their blood stained tie from their swollen neck and tied it around the diamond shaped cut-out cast iron ceiling. "Let's try again tomorrow, Ken," said Lewis. Ken nodded and put his head through the tie that dangled above. Lewis followed and closed his eye lids. A tear ran down from his left oculus onto the chin, mixing the half dried blood with the salty eye drop. Ken began to sob uncontrollably with skewed tears extinguishing the death row cigarette. The two gents hovers with the tip of their shoes barely touching the floor. Ken's cigarette fell from his lips; he draws in a mouthful of air, veins emerged upon his forehead. With one last effort he kicked off the emergency and the door operating button.

A loud sound of metal rubbing against each other punctured the ear drums of the victims within. The remaining bulbs flickered violently. Then the pulley gave away and the shaft accelerated through every floor all the way down to the basement. A ding came from the dis-formed elevator as though if it has arrived at it's designated floor. Light seeps into the thin opening of the doors revealing two soulless corpse with intense color ties tight around their necks. A soft, but unison voice whispered from the box, "Let's try again, tomorrow".

Who I Am

Ming-Chi Sun

"Who I Am"

8/29/2014

I am Ming-Chi Sun, most know me by my nickname Jerry. I grew up on a tiny island off the coast of China, called Taiwan. As a boy I was raised with old fashion teachings and discipline. Taiwan is a lively place, but with such a lively place comes danger and it provides a sanctuary for gangs and unruly. One day we received a phone call from my grandpa; asking for us to come to America. My dad kept refusing at first, but gave in eventually placing all hopes in the fact America is the ideal future for his kids; a future of opportunities and where dreams come true. Growing up here was difficult, we don't know how to communicate, no knowledge of how certain system run, and being completely alien to this place. I came here when I was eight years old, two years after arriving here, mom went back to Taiwan for "work purposes". It was later discovered that work was just a fancy term for seeing other guys, needless to say divorce was unavoidable. Not long after that, my grandpa passed away and my dad fell into depression. My older brother got kicked out by my dad, because they don't see My dad practically pulled an iron curtain on himself, refusing to socialize and find work. Let's just say a whole a flu carrying bad event came after that.

By middle school I knew nothing will change and it will not get better. I knew that separation was inevitable, for we live different lives at home with different perspective. Overall family conversation at home couldn't be more than thirty minutes on average days. Along that time my sister went to get a job and soon later I followed. My first didn't last that long for I was laid off when the franchise switch owner. Few weeks before I got laid off, my friend introduce me to "Steam", a network for gamers to interact, play games, and socialize. I started off playing this game called "Team Fortress 2" and days later I was really into it. Soon I discover that you can make money by creating in game items, so I got into 3D modeling, which is literally one of the best decision I have ever made in my life. I met so many extraordinary people that has venture through hell and rise to success under unbearable conditions. I look to them for advice, ideas, and emotional support, because that's what you do when you are in High School, you befriend random strangers online. To me they were my inspiration, my role models, and my drive to keep going. I struggled with myself on the decision of life after school until today.

Currently everything is stable, but I know as soon as I get that diploma, it is out the door I go.
I'll most likely hit the street due to insufficient saving and there is no safe house for me, for I don't know any of my relatives other than my dad, my sister, and my older brother; and I know they would not willingly take me in without some kind of stuff in exchange. So this is my senior year and it's a very decisive year. In one hand of uncertainty in going to college with paid tuition, and on the other hand living on the street. I am not exaggerating the situation at hand, it really is college or street for I do not wish to be bound to where I currently live. Of course plan B does not mean I will just be a hobo on the street with money beggin' cardboard that inks "Homeless" or "God Bless You". I'm atheist and I am youthful and have four limbs, so there should be no situation why I can't be a productive member of society. On my decorative sign, a.k.a. my masterpiece, would state: "I don't want the money of pithy, I just want an opportunity to change my life." I will stand there in holding the sign in any weather for as long as the sun still shines.

If miraculously plan A worked and I get to go to college, I will work as hard as I can day and night non-stop. I've come down several generations, each with very successful lives, but everyone of them met a tragic end. I am not going to be one of them, nor do I believe I will become one of them. I know the goals I set and I'll move mountains or die trying to accomplish them. It certainly is a very serious and exigent issue, but I can't live my life like that, so I'm going to enjoy the time I have left with my friends while they are still around and search for any opportunities that is up for grab. To be fairly honest, I've been doing pretty good so far and I know I can make it better. To sum it up, rough life and difficult situation have made me stronger, and I look forward to the future, whether it's survival of the fittest or a life devoted to learning. Whatever it may be, everything have prep me for that moment and I'll be ready when that day comes.