Bush Scraud M.D.

Reads: 106  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
I can tell the nuke from the apocalypse. Ten years later, I can STILL tell the nuke from the apocalypse...
Can you?

Submitted: July 05, 2010

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 05, 2010

A A A

A A A


Have a good prospective on life.
Ha. Before you encounter the S.N. Mana.
 
And… know your natural disasters when you move to Tornado Alley,
Please.
Remember, all this is coming from Sissy Xodamiyor Mono and I know these things.
I’m only trying to explain because I want to help everyone I can to know what I do.
 
And I want to thank everyone… for listening to me.
 
 
Sometime – I don’t know when, the current president doesn’t know when, and you don’t know when – some foreign country will attack with some stolen future arsenal. I would not want to be the one to know when either, especially if I was one of the women in that country.
Possibly, let’s say, this country may not include women’s rights, and if I knew, I would die trying to tell the United States. Maybe it would be neutral, maybe it would be detrimental. But it would not be good on both sides.
You’ve got to watch yourself, your back, your country.
One day, your life will end.
Maybe with… foreign stolen arsenal.
Maybe with natural disaster.
So.
Many.
Casualties.
Either way, my reason for being here is to save eras of generations. I won’t die.
I will seriously and surreptitiously live amongst the civilization, saving. After time and time of change, I will still be here.
And I will bring some people to the end of time with me.
Until that time, nothing will stop me from teaching, saving, and living.
I am not overt.
I am not afraid.
I am as perfect for this as the people in movies and on the TV.
I’m fine if I don’t make it to the end.
I’d rather save in 92nd place out of 92 people than not make my impact on society.
I will turn this dystopia into a turbine-lit utopia.
 
And.
I will.
Launch plan.
Bush. Scraud. M.D.
 
2010- 2100
 
Melissa ran up to me with Moody and Miniaball by her side.
“What’s up?”
I frowned. Immediately.
 “Oh…” I rolled my eyes.
This was something I didn’t totally want to discuss at this particular time, with Miniaball.
Melissa followed me onto the field.
“So, is it me? Er…?”
 “Melissa, you got to understand that… I have so many people I can take to the end. Jaimey, Michelle, Moody. It’s… infinitized.”
“Sissy, but I need to go. I have to go with you.”
“Melissa – I don’t think you care enough about what I’ve studied.”
 “Sissy, come on,” she scoffed. “You know I have to borrow the time machine. If I don’t make it to the end, I can never go there.”
“M, I know, I get it. But… I’m leaving my mom; you to succeed at this.”
I started clapping. “You’ve got to step it UP. You cannot handle that. You won’t leave Meeahauna, or Mike, or Moody, or Miniaball, nor Mawree or the rest of your huge, ridiculous family. You. Can’t. Handle. It.
“What about the S.N. Mana? Can’t I help?” I scoffed.
My eyes flew over to Miniaball.
“Didn’t you inherit her traits instead of Mawree’s fearless?” 
“Shut up, Sissy. Just take me to the end. It’ll be worth it.”
 I sighed.
“Yo, Mel, I gotta think about it, you know…” I scratched my head nervously. Her eyes narrowed.
 “Well shoot, Sissy. Let snap tell me.” She turned back to her sisters.
I didn’t stop her.
It would be no use.
And they say people don’t get environmentalists; Melissa doesn’t get me and what I have to do.
My job is surreptitious, smug, and hard. She couldn’t handle it in her most fantastic dreams.
 
My mom sat in her blue lounge chair reading. She didn’t look up.
As always, she was too busy for her only child. Not really busy, but not caring.
“Hi mom.” I didn’t expect an answer as I tossed my messenger bag onto the teal couch an inch beside her.
She didn’t move.
“I’m going out with some friends tonight. Is that okay?” She still didn’t answer. Does she want me to become part of a gang?! Sell crank!? Marijuana?!?!!?
My tone was sharp. “Mother, is that okay?” When she only flipped a page in awe, I slammed the rest of my belongings down and pushed a picture off of the fireplace, aiming for my room.
Once I’d trashed the sheets of my bed, my phone rang.
“Sissy what happened with Hogan. Tell me now.” Why was Wendy so pushy?
“This is not the time, Wendy. Go ask her.”
“Nope. Tell me. If you got suspended, tell me.” I began to pull the carpet up.
“Wendy,” I strained. “This really isn’t the time. I’m… redecorating.”
“Mono, I don’t care what you’re doing! One of my best friends has a broken pelvis. What did you do?” Tears streamed from my eyes and I rose from the floor.
“I have an important decision to make, ok? And she was getting in the way, Wendy; blocking my path,” I sobbed. “I had to get her out of my way so I could actually make my choice. I’m trying to save people’s lives here, Wendy.”
“Sissy. You just ended hers.”
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
My eyes were wet when I woke up. I felt nauseous and vertigo fell over me in a sheet of gray.
“Mom!” She had better answer me. My whole body got hot when she didn’t rise from her blue chair.
“Dangit! GET UP HERE YOU SLUTTY EXCUSE!” Were her ears messed up?
I ran down the stairs and into mom’s room. Of course, she wasn’t alone.
Why was she always eager to get something from a stranger? Even if it was a girl?
I made a choice that day.
I wouldn’t save my mother. I wouldn’t help her. I really had no one to leave.
I whispered “tramp” under my breath and went up to my room to elope. As I shoved clothes into my suitcases, I called mom profanities and common insults to women.


© Copyright 2018 essay fitzgerald . All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments: