Sighs.
Yes ladies and gentlemen the rumors are true I am indeed a great big loser who can't get enough of Toad. And as I was rereading my story I realized "Hey wait a minute! I killed off my Mortie!" So as you can see I devised an all new evil plan to bring the goodness that is Toad back into our lives. Please be patient with me here I'm trying to make my chapters longer and better...so updates might now be as frequent as I would like. Anyway, heres the first official chapter so I hope we all enjoy and...(that's right say it with me people): REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!
VXVXVX
Too many things were wrong with the world today. Crime in the New York and Washington areas had increased by thirty-seven percent, public school's annual testing scores had gone down, public violence involving mutants and anti-mutant activists was at an all time high, but for one mutant the only thing that mattered; the only thing that was real wrong with the world:
Was that he was still in it.
He sighed and stared at the deformed scars that lined his hands and bare fingers. He examined the skinless tips carefully, wondering how he exactly lost his nails and began to admire the indent that lined his knuckles from days and night of hard work. He lifted his head and stared ruthless into the mirror. His features betrayed him once more and he had a brief but beautiful daydream about being the permanent image of the man he always wanted to be. He silently swallowed three of the yellow pills that lied on the rusty sink ledge.
Pain killers were almost everything they were cracked up to be. He just wished they could cure one more piece of sorrow that profiled his mind day and night. He knew things were the way they were meant to be...yet still her face was the silhouette of every dream and every concept he could conjure.
He missed her.
There was no denying that.
But his greed exceeded far deeper than that. Not only did he long to see her face, but more than anything else he wanted to feel her beneath his fingertips, to hear her voice when he awoke in the morning, feel the softness of her hair under his chin, hear her laugh at him in a pleasant way... The wishing just went on and on. He realized the pathetic nature of his longing, after all Xaiver had given him this great watch thing that gave him a different, almost normal image. He had plenty of opportunities to go out with the guys after the shop closed up for the night and hit the bars to fish for one nighters...but every female face he saw only somewhat reminded him of her and pulled him into the realization that she would never be his. The achievement of that thought sent him into a whirl of depression and mental exhaustion.
As a result he found himself spending most evenings at the dismal place he considered his home. As simple as it was the one bedroom, one bathroom hub house didn't even belong to him. In reality it was rightfully owned under the old man named Benson who lived in the house above him. Benson as odd as he was had a generally decent opposition about him. Often he had heard him hollering through the thin walls, talking to no one in particular. The fact was that Benson was whacked out of his gourd, still he had the craved face of a demented warrior and charged decent rent so he was generally liked by all of his tenants.
The sound of a machine turning on in the distance was the only sound coming from the bathroom of that dreary apartment. In reality it was a watch. And it was carefully placed on the wrist of the man standing the front of the dirty mirror. He sighed in turmoil as the image of a perfectly normal human being took his place. He left the room and grabbed the jumpsuit littered with dried grease and scum.
He closed the final door behind him and stared at the gray sky that lined the morning sky. Faint sunlight scattered the crest of the outer city he was surrounded by. And he inhaled the morning air without hesitation, grabbing the near by rolled up newspaper of an unliked neighbor and began the short distance to the job he buried himself in to forget the face that frequented every vision of misery he adored. But he scolded himself, after all...it had been almost two years...
VXVXVXVX
Sounds of the phone echoed in her ears as it continued the vengeful act of pulling her out of a peaceful night's sleep. On about the seventh ring she swore mentally to the responsible voice in her head that told her she should pick it up. She arose with a certain uncomfortable nature and she soon realized that she was nearly sleeping upside down, and was sincerely mispositioned from her normal space. She glanced over at the cold, empty side of her bed before beginning the miscellaneous search for the phone.
"Hello!" She answered with a frustrated groan as she finally found the phone on the unbearable fourteenth ring.
"Did you read the paper?!" Called a overly excited voice on the other line. She smiled at the familiarity of his tone and decided that he was instantly forgiven. Still when she glanced at the clock and the demanding hour she also decided he wasn't exactly off the hook quite yet.
"Why no my dear Michael! Considering the fact that it's only six A.M. And I worked double shifts at the hospital yesterday I haven't exactly made reading the paper my biggest propriety..."
She could tell he realized the faultiness of his actions as he grew instantly silently. She sighed and wiped some of the sleep from her eyes. She let a little laugh loose.
"It's OK." She said with a playful tone. "No. I haven't read the paper today. Anything good?" She could hear him sigh at her somewhat positive reaction.
"Yeah," She could almost hear the smirk in his voice. "You..."
"What do you mean?" She asked now standing barefoot on her misty patio, her eyes scanning the foggy atmosphere for the paper of information she desired. When she finally found her prize she nearly skipped back to the small door leading inside, eager to get back to the warmth that was her home. She placed the paper on the counter and quickly took off the rubber band that kept the facts she craved away.
"Front page of the local section..." Said the happy male voice on the other side of the phone. She sighed and rolled her eyes. But that expression quickly changed when her eyes grew wide at the headline:
"A Good Deed Never Goes Undone." Below was the well taken picture of her at one of the group homes she frequented with a eager and happy looking child kissing her on the cheek. A half a dozen kids of all races and ages laughed in the background, and the walls were splattered with color and pictures of drawings and painting from every age group.
She forced her eyes to read every word that lied below the picture despite her enthusiastic attitude that soon threatened to take over.
"In the photograph above local college student and promenade social worker Eva Johnson finds herself embraced by several grateful children from St. Andrews Group Home after she successfully completely the ongoing proposal to increase budgets involving child development and social service studies. In short this latest approved proposal will insure more healthful investments including more school and as the photograph clearly shows, more art supplies. Additionally Johnson has single handedly insured that foster care programs in the area are publicized and has organized fundraisers across the state to further provoke mental health education at county hospitals..."
The article continued on, repeating some of her accomplishments, revealing information about some of her coworkers, quoting her professors. But the most interesting piece of information lied in the very last paragraph:
"...And with her upcoming wedding to emergency room attendant Michael Keane, Eva Johnson has a lot coming up...And a lot of pretty pictures to look forward to in the near future."
"Wow..." Eva breathed silently. "I can't believe this...where did this come from?" She said.
"Joan and I arranged everything with the reporter. We thought you deserved a little regard with all the stuff you've been doing lately. I'm not sure where they got that last part though, I guess that was more Joan's doing..." He said that last part more to himself than anybody else. The sudden silence over the phone startled him for a minute and for a second he thought that maybe she was upset with him.
"Eva? You there baby?"
She smiled through misty eyes and bit her lower lip in silently devotion. "I love you Mike." They both smiled. And Eva looked at the clearing day and immediately decided it was going to be a beautiful one.
Yes ladies and gentlemen the rumors are true I am indeed a great big loser who can't get enough of Toad. And as I was rereading my story I realized "Hey wait a minute! I killed off my Mortie!" So as you can see I devised an all new evil plan to bring the goodness that is Toad back into our lives. Please be patient with me here I'm trying to make my chapters longer and better...so updates might now be as frequent as I would like. Anyway, heres the first official chapter so I hope we all enjoy and...(that's right say it with me people): REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!
VXVXVX
Too many things were wrong with the world today. Crime in the New York and Washington areas had increased by thirty-seven percent, public school's annual testing scores had gone down, public violence involving mutants and anti-mutant activists was at an all time high, but for one mutant the only thing that mattered; the only thing that was real wrong with the world:
Was that he was still in it.
He sighed and stared at the deformed scars that lined his hands and bare fingers. He examined the skinless tips carefully, wondering how he exactly lost his nails and began to admire the indent that lined his knuckles from days and night of hard work. He lifted his head and stared ruthless into the mirror. His features betrayed him once more and he had a brief but beautiful daydream about being the permanent image of the man he always wanted to be. He silently swallowed three of the yellow pills that lied on the rusty sink ledge.
Pain killers were almost everything they were cracked up to be. He just wished they could cure one more piece of sorrow that profiled his mind day and night. He knew things were the way they were meant to be...yet still her face was the silhouette of every dream and every concept he could conjure.
He missed her.
There was no denying that.
But his greed exceeded far deeper than that. Not only did he long to see her face, but more than anything else he wanted to feel her beneath his fingertips, to hear her voice when he awoke in the morning, feel the softness of her hair under his chin, hear her laugh at him in a pleasant way... The wishing just went on and on. He realized the pathetic nature of his longing, after all Xaiver had given him this great watch thing that gave him a different, almost normal image. He had plenty of opportunities to go out with the guys after the shop closed up for the night and hit the bars to fish for one nighters...but every female face he saw only somewhat reminded him of her and pulled him into the realization that she would never be his. The achievement of that thought sent him into a whirl of depression and mental exhaustion.
As a result he found himself spending most evenings at the dismal place he considered his home. As simple as it was the one bedroom, one bathroom hub house didn't even belong to him. In reality it was rightfully owned under the old man named Benson who lived in the house above him. Benson as odd as he was had a generally decent opposition about him. Often he had heard him hollering through the thin walls, talking to no one in particular. The fact was that Benson was whacked out of his gourd, still he had the craved face of a demented warrior and charged decent rent so he was generally liked by all of his tenants.
The sound of a machine turning on in the distance was the only sound coming from the bathroom of that dreary apartment. In reality it was a watch. And it was carefully placed on the wrist of the man standing the front of the dirty mirror. He sighed in turmoil as the image of a perfectly normal human being took his place. He left the room and grabbed the jumpsuit littered with dried grease and scum.
He closed the final door behind him and stared at the gray sky that lined the morning sky. Faint sunlight scattered the crest of the outer city he was surrounded by. And he inhaled the morning air without hesitation, grabbing the near by rolled up newspaper of an unliked neighbor and began the short distance to the job he buried himself in to forget the face that frequented every vision of misery he adored. But he scolded himself, after all...it had been almost two years...
VXVXVXVX
Sounds of the phone echoed in her ears as it continued the vengeful act of pulling her out of a peaceful night's sleep. On about the seventh ring she swore mentally to the responsible voice in her head that told her she should pick it up. She arose with a certain uncomfortable nature and she soon realized that she was nearly sleeping upside down, and was sincerely mispositioned from her normal space. She glanced over at the cold, empty side of her bed before beginning the miscellaneous search for the phone.
"Hello!" She answered with a frustrated groan as she finally found the phone on the unbearable fourteenth ring.
"Did you read the paper?!" Called a overly excited voice on the other line. She smiled at the familiarity of his tone and decided that he was instantly forgiven. Still when she glanced at the clock and the demanding hour she also decided he wasn't exactly off the hook quite yet.
"Why no my dear Michael! Considering the fact that it's only six A.M. And I worked double shifts at the hospital yesterday I haven't exactly made reading the paper my biggest propriety..."
She could tell he realized the faultiness of his actions as he grew instantly silently. She sighed and wiped some of the sleep from her eyes. She let a little laugh loose.
"It's OK." She said with a playful tone. "No. I haven't read the paper today. Anything good?" She could hear him sigh at her somewhat positive reaction.
"Yeah," She could almost hear the smirk in his voice. "You..."
"What do you mean?" She asked now standing barefoot on her misty patio, her eyes scanning the foggy atmosphere for the paper of information she desired. When she finally found her prize she nearly skipped back to the small door leading inside, eager to get back to the warmth that was her home. She placed the paper on the counter and quickly took off the rubber band that kept the facts she craved away.
"Front page of the local section..." Said the happy male voice on the other side of the phone. She sighed and rolled her eyes. But that expression quickly changed when her eyes grew wide at the headline:
"A Good Deed Never Goes Undone." Below was the well taken picture of her at one of the group homes she frequented with a eager and happy looking child kissing her on the cheek. A half a dozen kids of all races and ages laughed in the background, and the walls were splattered with color and pictures of drawings and painting from every age group.
She forced her eyes to read every word that lied below the picture despite her enthusiastic attitude that soon threatened to take over.
"In the photograph above local college student and promenade social worker Eva Johnson finds herself embraced by several grateful children from St. Andrews Group Home after she successfully completely the ongoing proposal to increase budgets involving child development and social service studies. In short this latest approved proposal will insure more healthful investments including more school and as the photograph clearly shows, more art supplies. Additionally Johnson has single handedly insured that foster care programs in the area are publicized and has organized fundraisers across the state to further provoke mental health education at county hospitals..."
The article continued on, repeating some of her accomplishments, revealing information about some of her coworkers, quoting her professors. But the most interesting piece of information lied in the very last paragraph:
"...And with her upcoming wedding to emergency room attendant Michael Keane, Eva Johnson has a lot coming up...And a lot of pretty pictures to look forward to in the near future."
"Wow..." Eva breathed silently. "I can't believe this...where did this come from?" She said.
"Joan and I arranged everything with the reporter. We thought you deserved a little regard with all the stuff you've been doing lately. I'm not sure where they got that last part though, I guess that was more Joan's doing..." He said that last part more to himself than anybody else. The sudden silence over the phone startled him for a minute and for a second he thought that maybe she was upset with him.
"Eva? You there baby?"
She smiled through misty eyes and bit her lower lip in silently devotion. "I love you Mike." They both smiled. And Eva looked at the clearing day and immediately decided it was going to be a beautiful one.