Hello, my name is... Wait, you already saw it with the story's title. Nevermind.
I hope you enjoy.
A woman with a near-perfect figure and a beautiful face and long magnificent raven colored hair had just gotten off her flight in. She was dressed in an outfit that screamed, "Business." Her skin bronzed by the tanning session in the Cayman Islands, during her company's seminar. She was going to get in touch with her family and friends to tell them all about her time away. She went and retrieved her bags from baggage claim and exited the airport. Upon exit she saw a taxi cab waiting and decided to take use it. She motioned for the driver to open the trunk, which he did. After putting her bags in, she got in the back and told the driver where she wanted him to go.
"2034 Maryland ave. in Ashton." The driver nodded from the front seat, turned on the meter and drove off. The driver seemed like an average guy, but there was something unnerving about him that the woman couldn't help but notice, yet couldn't put it together in her mind. His coffee-colored hair went down to his shoulders. His face, although obscured by the headrest and his plain white baseball cap, was flushed. It was like he was anxious about something.
I sit at my desk typing away on my laptop. It's late at night and my lights are off. The lack of light helps as me visualize more clearly without any stimulation from my surroundings. The quiet hum of my laptop is the only sound I hear and that calms me as imagine the story unfold. However, the peace I had is shot when I hear a familiar gruff voice.
"So, it's the cabby thats gonna cause this incident?" he asks.
"Quiet! I'm tryna write."
"So, I take it you're here on business?" the cabby asked, his voice feebly breaking.
"Back from business actually," the woman responded, "Am I your first?"
"Excuse me?" the cabby asked, his voice becoming higher as he fidgeted in his seat.
"Your first customer of the day," she clarified.
I continue typing, but again I'm interrupted by another voice.
"I don't think you're suited to use innuendo. You're what, 12?" this shrill female voice asks.
"I'm thirteen, technically a teen!" I respond, getting pretty annoyed.
"Oh! One year difference! Still too young for the stuff you're writing"
"Oh, you're my first customer, period," he told her.
"Newbie, huh?" the woman asked, mostly to herself, "okay. Do you mind if I close this little window between us? Need to make a call."
"Go right ahead," he said with a nervous smile. The woman closed the opening between her and the cabby. As she rummaged through her purse to find her phone…
"Exuse me!? Women don't 'rummage' through anything," the female voice shot.
"Actually, y'all do," the gruff voice said, "At least a good majority of you do."
"Can you guys shut up!" I sigh exasperated, nearing the end of my rope, "It's bad enough when you guys commentate on my day to day, but can you do me the decency of not talking when I'm writing?"
"I would if you could make your stories closer to reality," the shrill one says.
I exhale and get back to writing.
As she searched her purse for her phone, she began to feel light headed. Almost instantly she fell unconscious...
"Ok, gotta interject here," the gruff one said.
"Gah, What now!?" I growl at the interruption.
"I'm pretty sure my companion said to make it more realistic, did she not?"
"Yeah, she did," I replied back annoyed.
"Then why did the woman get light headed and fall out in, taking a guess here, 3 seconds?"
"Right! It seems like she just closed the opening looked down and passed out. How's that work?" the shrill one asks.
I sigh and open a desk drawer and pull out my notebook. I flip through to a specific page and read its contents aloud.
"Kolokol-1, or bell in Russian, is a synthetic opioid developed for use as an aerosolizable incapacitating agent. The exact chemical structure has yet to be revealed, butt is thought to be a derivative of the opioid fentanyl, most probably 3-methylfentanyl dissolved in halothane as an organic solvent. Upon inhalation, Kolokol-1 takes effect within ONE TO THREE seconds, rendering the subject unconscious for two to six hours."
"OH..."they said in unison.
"Now, if you don't mind, SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE!"
I hear someone rapping on my bedroom door and sigh. I get up from my desk and go open my door. I'm blinded as my room was invaded by the light from the hall. As my eyes adjust I see a slightly thick, ebony woman standing there in a white bathrobe.
"Sorry for waking you, Mom," I say.
"Mmm hmm," she seemed annoyed that my yelling woke her from her nice relaxing sleep, "Arguing with the voices again, Jeremy?"
I nod ashamed that I got annoyed with the voices in my head so easily.
"It's okay, Jer," she said as she pulled me close and gave me a tight hug, "I know you don't make yourself hear the voices. I just wish the medicine worked so you wouldn't be so…"
"Weird?" I asked finishing her sentence.
"Stressed," she corrected me. Sometimes I wonder what I'd be if I didn't hear them, the voices.
"Sometimes I wish I could hear the kid's thoughts," said the gruff one.
"That's an invasion of privacy!" the shrill chastised.
I guess I'd be normal, as normal as a person can be.
"Now go to bed, Jer," my mom said to me, "We leave early in the morning. Aunt Verna can't wait to see you."
"Okay," I say before heading back into my room.
"Another Summer with Aunt Verna, Jeremy?" asked the gruff one.
"Yeah, G," I answer saving my progress before closing my laptop.
"You should try and make some friends this summer," the shrill one said, "that way you don't spend the entire summer locked away."
"You're right S, but just about everyone there is strange," I say back laying in my bed, "I have an excuse, but they don't."
"Oregon isn't that bad," G said.
"It's not the entirety of Oregon I'm talking about," I tell him, "It's Aunt Verna's hometown that's weird." I begin drifting off to sleep really quick, but here the voices distort.
"Right. Gravity Falls, Oregon." They both said as I drifted into my dreams.
'Huh? is that train?'