Author's Note:

I know there was a little "controversy" over this story, as someone recognized the game from Misery by Stephen King. So, I'm taking out the "so vivid!" and I'm going to put this into fan fiction, because, well, I guess it belongs there as kind of a spin off from Misery. And yes, I did finish the story, and I will upload the rest as soon as I can.

Added Author's Note:

Somehow, while I was on vacation, all my stories simply vanished, so I am only uploading those that I actually like. Doomsday and Dragon Slayer I particularly loathe, for they are short and not that well written. I don't like it when people over criticize, but I agree that Doomsday and Dragon Slayer were bad. I hope to improve them. If not, then may they rest in peace in the depths of my computer. Another note: Open your minds, people. Be open to new things, for I can visibly see that you are not. Thank you for the kind words, thank you for the criticism. But if you don't like the story, at least tell me what you don't like about it, instead of saying "you suck." Because that simply gets me nowhere for various reasons: 1) I know I don't "suck". 2) Your not helping. If you're going to offer criticism, offer criticism. But criticism is your opinion and what you like or don't like of a piece of work. So saying "you suck" is not criticism, it is rudeness. Saying something along the lines of "You need to change your tone of voice because it doesn't flow with the chemistry of the story" is criticism. So criticize me, but tell me how to improve. And don't think I'm going to take in all your opinions, because some of you just, brace yourselves, can't write. Believe me, I will know the difference. Ciao.

Can You?



SUMMARY
When they were kids, they used to play this little game called Can You? This game tests, in a sense, their ability to cope with danger. But this isn't some sort of Playskool educational little plastic toy. Oh no, this is anything but. In this game, you are placed inside the problem. If the predicament is that you are facing a sixty foot tall T-Rex, than, with the click of a stopwatch, there you are, facing it.
Last summer, James lost his brother Corey, because Corey couldn't. He was trapped in the game. This year, James discovers he must rescue Corey. But first he must ask himself, James, Can you?


I always waited for the summer when I was a kid. Not only did summer mean no school, or warm sweet weather, or the scintillating taste of a cold glass of orange juice on a hot sunny day. All that was good. More than good. All that was what our parents thought we waited for. But summer brought resounding confidence; my mind telling me I could. And my mind letting me know that I did.

Even today, I still as Can I?, and always ask Did I?, and always answer differently.

Even today, the question still haunts me.

I can hear one of us asking the other, "James, Can you?" I remember the hit of the stopwatch as the world enveloped around us as whoever thought they could began. One minute, that was all. One minute in Hell or wherever, depending on the extremity of the person's mind.

Why didn't we leave? Because we couldn't. Could we? No. Can you? Maybe. Did we? We tried.

The rules were simple. Once a week, during the summer, usually on Saturday, when the moon was high, one of us would began with a story, anything, any sort of predicament we could imagine. The person would put the main character in a situation. Quicksand, or a herd of ravenous lions, per say. Then, Adam, Can you? and the person would begin. After one minute, the person had to stop, ending with another conflict. Did he? the person holding the stopwatch would ask. I almost always did. The point was not, however, so simple. And you getting yourself out of the predicament didn't have to necessarily be realistic. Oh no, but it had to be fari. For example, if Mr. What's-His-Face was surrounded by a bunch of cannibals, closing in quickly…

Danny, Can you? Sure, Danny would. But did he?

Well, Mr. What's-His-Face was lucky because he had a shank. He killed three of the cannibals and ran for it.

Did he? Yes. That was fair. Who knows what Mr. What's-His-Face has in his pockets?



But, however:

Johnny, Can you?

Luckily, Mr. What's-His-Face had a giant pet bird. He whistled for it, and it carried him away. Usually, in the case of Super Bird, Johnny would be asked to leave, or lost in the Vortex of what he couldn't.

But those predicaments are childish, and that version of play is childish as well. Oh no, the real thing is much more complicated. That version is fit for those of about six who still

are afraid of what life is because they don't know need their parents 24/7.

But we

were not afraid of what life was because we knew, because we could.

did not depend on our parents. It was long since that. Can you? altered our senses of can and did.

Can you?


* * *





"Come on guys! Let's go," James shouted to his friends, all playing a small game, yet another to which they fancied their minds with.

"Come on! You can finish Gobtrot tomorrow!"

A small kid, new to the crowd, stood up. In turn, everyone else followed suit.

"Who's got the watch?" Another kid, Johnny, shouted.

"I've already got it!" James hollered back as he began to lead them into a world beyond, a world where not only they were given the opportunity to, but they had to.

Can you? Can you stay alive?

About fifteen minutes past, James, clearly the leader, asked the first question. He didn't have to, but he could.

"Two choices. You leave or you stay."

The latter obviously seemed appealing for most kids, those who did only once before, but weren't sure if they could again. But the kids who did many times before and still believed they could, favored the former. No one left, of course, but they could. Boy, could they ever.



James led them deep into the forest. Deeper, deeper. Not everyone could go, but they did.

Finally, they settled on a soft patch of earth.

One boy began to fidget. I can't! His mind blared out.

James looked at him. There was always someone who couldn't. But sometimes they did Sometimes they didn't.

The boy was fidgeting uncontrollably. A horrible memory returned to his mind. It was the last week of last summer, and his first time. He remembered the person who not only didn't, but couldn't.

You see, there is a difference between didn't and couldn't. Didn't meant

"Excuse me, Johnny, you didn't. Please leave."

That was didn't. No harm done. You just couldn't come back. The fun (or torture) was over forever.

But couldn't. That was a different story. That was the risk. If you couldn't, that was the last thing you did (or didn't).

Last year was the first time someone couldn't. that was why the New Kid trembled at the thought of can't. His imagination remembered. He had the stopwatch. And he just did. He finished with himself twenty thousand feet in the air, held to the helicopter he was suspended from by a few strands of thread.

"Corey," New Kid stammered, his thumb of the START/STOP button on the stopwatch. His memory remembered the stopwatch, as he saw it now. Ordinary to the human eye, but under close inspection, you could and most likely would find a small symbol. His imagination remembered it clearly. A small circle, and inside it, a symbol unable to be described by words, but it has two small letters inside of it, CY. Many would believe it the stopwatch's logo. Calvin Young, perhaps. But CY gave the watch power. The watch could, as well. But it was up to the storytellers whether or not it did. "Corey, can you?" the stopwatch clicked, and a bright flash of light encased everyone as the world faded around them.

Suddenly, the game's players found themselves to not be in the forest any longer. This part of the game was like a voice-over session, yet the person on the other side of the Isolation Chamber, as it was known, the person who had been tested, couldn't tap on the glass and say CUT!

Everyone in the Isolation Chamber watched. James could hear running commentary inside his head, courtesy of Chick Hearn and Stu Lantz.

Here we are on the simelcast. We've got Corey trying and trying, and we've got that horrible twenty thousand foot drop, and along with that, only a few strands of life support. And the game begins.



You know, I think this person really stands a chance!

I agree, St - oh! He's not starting. He just froze. Twenty left on the clock. He better get moving…

new kid was shouting the time remaining, but it sounded distant, lost in the frequency of James' internal radio.

He's not gonna do it.

10.

I don't know, Chick.

9

Let's hope for the best.

8

Seven on the clock.

7.

It's all over.

6.

Look at his face!

5

It's set in stone!

4.

SNAP!

Oh! There goes one thread.

3.

Two more.

SNAP!

2

One left!

SNAP!

1.

Click! The stopwatch beeped.

Thus it ends.

Another bright flash, and they were back in the forest.

James had turned off the radio.

"Corey?" James yelled, but each person knew it was hopeless. "COREY?!" James shouted again to the dense, yet seemingly empty forest. He couldn't believe it, as reality hit him, that he had lost his brother.

New Kid trembled at the memory. Suddenly, either by coincidence or sheer irony, James remembered it too. He began to tremble violently. But everything would have been fine if he hadn't asked.

The game won't work, you won't be transferred to the Isolation Chamber, unless the watch holder says Can you? and hits the start button.

"Johnny! Can you - can you get me some water?" James trembled so violently that his thumb slipped and hit the START/STOP button.

The clock started and everyone hear its click. Everyone heard it beep. Everyone heard James say Can you, but no one knew what was to happen, for there was no predicament.

Everyone stood, transfixed. All eyes were on the stopwatch. James wanted to run, to drop the watch. But he couldn't.

The stopwatch lit up. It began to beep incessantly. But it wouldn't stop. It didn't stop. Suddenly, the whole world darkened until they were engulfed in BLACK.