Didn't see this one coming, did ya?
Table of Contents:
Prologue/Chapter 1
Collision
Prologue/Chapter 1
As summer time drew to a close, I tried to absorb as many of its remnants as possible. I walked through Bristle Park, a tiny park of no more than a couple acres, smiling as I inhaled the aromas that coursed throughout the air. The feeling of pleasure I got from my daily walks throughout this park were great, and I felt as if I was no longer myself after several moments. Gone were the few negatives of my life, and what came were the swelling positives.
Yes, the times I lived in were for the most part grand. However, this also came from the fact that I was still a teenager, and I did not have many responsibilities to tend to. For most of my free time, instead of joining the many that wasted their lives in the discussion zones of Forumopolis (the city in which the vast majority of the Wiki population lives) I took these walks, exercising both my body and imagination. On more than a few occasions each walk, I’d simply stop on the asphalt walkways forming the circumference of the treeless area of the park to hear nature; the sounds of the more innocent birds singing, the rustling of the squirrels playing with one-another in the trees, the calls of deer in the distance—these were the things that were not possible in the city.
After minutes of relaxation, I moved onward into a wooded pathway made of planks of old wood. The plant life throughout this path was different than many other places that I had explored. Some plants were simply stems and leaves, but others contained vibrant shades of green and yellow that wrapped themselves around tree bark, or simply sprawled across the entire ground in a glorious image. There were also several streams of water that were sparkling (though partially clouded) when compared to other bodies of water throughout the city. Minnows would swim happily in these precious streams, and the occasional toad would croak as it hopped into the water for a refreshing dive.
While these things gave me much inspiration, the path was short—no more than 100 feet in length probably—and before I knew it, I was back in a less tree-dense area. The park ended around here, and I knew that my walk would shortly be over with, as not many people went far beyond this park. There were several houses around here on a decently-paved road, and outside of that was a green field known as “Venture Field”, one that I used to play in all the time as a child, and even nowadays on the rare chance that I had the time.
This field, while not opposing at all, with a healthy color of grass and several tiny trees, was the “stopping point” for members of Forumopolis. The city may have been only a miniscule fraction of Wiki, but nobody except the Administration Team and those who had permanently left Forumopolis were able to pass it.
In fact: if my foggy memory could remember properly, then I have a tale to recall of eight years ago, at the age of six.
Back in this time, I remember playing in the field with my friend Ace. Like today, it felt good to be out of the hustle-and-bustle of the “Forum life” and into what people described as “real life” (though I considered everywhere to be real life). Also like today, Ace donned his dark green baseball cap (backwards on his head, as always), a t-shirt of nearly the same color, his brown khaki pants, and his mostly-normal hair minus the strands that freely traveled through the space above the adjuster of his cap. In fact, I’ll just say that he’s was a mini-Ace.
We had played many games throughout the park, but the one that stood out the most was our version of baseball that we called “Smack Ball”. The rules were simple, but in our opinion, more fun than the game of baseball. Instead of a baseball, we used a tennis ball; instead of a bat, we’d use our open-palmed hands; and instead of bases, we’d simply run in a large circle around the pitching mound until the pitcher would get the ball, then it’d be a game of tag from there on out. Every revolution around the mound (which was no more than a section of grass with a piece of gravel on it) would result in one more point for the “batter”.
One day while playing the game, we finally had our first experience with the mystery behind Venture Field. It was the average game of Smack Ball, with Ace beating me by tens of points in just a few rounds. Ace could throw with great speed and accuracy, along with hit nearly every shot over my head and into some place far away from me. I knew that he had a good future ahead of him, which turned out to be the star player on one of the city’s top minor-league baseball teams: The Forumopolis Red Shoes.
Despite this, we both knew that the object of the game was to have fun, which is what we did best. We’d always laugh to our heart’s content, sometimes for even an hour or so over the simplest things, and we definitely didn’t argue.
Around the tenth round, I prepared myself for another one of Ace’s excellent pitches. My right hand was readily in position: right next to my right thigh, which was leaning behind me with most of my body sideways. He threw the pitch, and not even thinking about the hit this time, my hand burst forward, smashing into the ball and sending it right past Ace’s reach. Ace attempted to go after the ball, and when he tried grabbing it, his hand accidentally smacked it again, sending it further away from him.
Instead of the normal game of tag, we created a mini-game off of Ace’s mistake. Both of us went after the ball, smacking it with our hands in hopes of the other person not grabbing it. We laughed and screamed until one point, hundreds of feet from where we usually play, we were stopped with some type of force. We were repelled from the spot like two of the same poles on a magnet. No matter how hard we tried to reach at the tennis ball, our hands would always stop in their tracks or slowly crawl back towards us.
A half-hour passed, and we finally grew weary of recovering the ball. We spent the remainder of the day talking about what had just happened, then we walked back to our houses, speaking of the moment to the older citizens of Forumopolis. The answers from everyone were nearly the same: they didn’t really know. They believed that it was something that the Administration Team set up to prevent the population from spreading too far throughout Wiki, and that seemed reasonable, but they did not know what happened to those who left and why they were able to pass the barrier.
I had finally walked to Venture Field once again. It was nearing dusk, with the sun slowly being obscured by the distant foothills. In the distance, I could see what appeared to be moving silhouettes, but I assumed that they were of the trees scattered throughout the field. I shrugged; adventures were a very important part of me, but since I had already discovered all that there was to discover with Forumopolis, I wanted more. At the age of thirteen, a simple adolescent, I had explored every nook and cranny of the city. In fact, because of my knowledge of the city, the Administration Team was thinking of making me part of the Moderation Squad, a team of people who work as Forumopolis’ police, but these plans were tentative and would probably not go anywhere for years to come.
I sat down on the grass, spreading my legs apart from each other. I continued to stare at the sun until my memories began coming back to me.
I remembered those who had left Forumopolis permanently to continue on with their lives in other places. My assumption was because they wanted to be in the “real life” more, and if this portion of the field was a fragment of it, then who knew what lay out over the horizon! However, no matter what the circumstance, I would never want to leave the city forever, as it was the pieces of puzzle that held me together. I suppose that different people have different opinions though, and many of the greats had left.
First there was Douglas, who left when I was at the still-ripe age of eight. He had taught me the most information when compared to anybody else, including my teachers at Forumopolis Elementary. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t know how to throw or hit the tennis ball properly for the game of Smack Ball, though he left himself out of the actual game, instead choosing to watch us on several occasions. He also taught me how to stand up to the bullies at Forumopolis Elementary by training both my physical and mental strength. His tall and muscular stature showed me his brawn, and his hours of wisdom had shown me his brains, and together with his teachings, I learned how to ignore those who did not want to fit me into their groups and fought those who started conflicts with me.
Next was JohntheTinyCowboy, known as Jitka by Forumopolis. He was a short man, no more than four-and-a-half feet tall, but he had owned a farm not too far away from where Ace and I played our games in Venture Field. On this farm, he taught me how to ride horses, how to milk cows, and endless amounts of knowledge on how to properly care for vegetation.
Then there was Funkstar: a boy who people liked for his humor, not his personality. He always cracked jokes at people, and could be considered a bit on the perverted side, but had left once the city began shunning him. He attempted to come back not too long ago, mostly curious about The Purge of Forumopolis, a disaster that occurred nearly a month ago with a great fire that spread itself around the city destroying millions of discussion zones. Thousands lost their lives, and thousands more are still in the hospital recovering from burns and lung damage from the thick smoke. Once being an okay friend with Jello B., the perpetrator of the disaster, the Administration Team prevented him from crossing back over the invisible barrier on the field. He waited there for days, with some attempting to talk to him (though this was impossible with many Moderation Squad members blurring him from view of others), and he later died of starvation.
There were many other people that shared the same ideologies and decisions of these three, but my memory had come to such a blur that all I could remember were some of the aspects that separated them from the rest.
I cracked my neck and knuckles before lying down on the grass, which felt cool under the lingering summer heat. I began thinking of those who began “hiding” from Forumopolis, otherwise known as lurkers. Some of these people had returned to being more public through the city, but others are continuing to hide and do whatever they do in their hiatus. There was Marshmallow Roast, or Myrrh, whom I could remember off of the top of my head simply because she had a crush on me after Einoo (her ex-boyfriend) had chosen to go down the wrong path with other people who did not like the Administration Team’s decision on new additions to the Moderation Squad. These people continue to cause trouble just to get the squad all over them, as they can only do so much with their authority. Since then, Myrrh went into a depressed state and concealed herself from others in the city, hoping that her popularity would not be harmed because of Einoo.
I promised Myrrh that her worries about Einoo would end sometime soon, and she could show her face again without Einoo’s new reputation harming her. How I would do this though, I don’t know, but it’ll probably not be legal…
I slapped myself for thinking about that before ramming the back of my head into the ground. Why would I ever do such a thing to another person, especially when I’m being considered for the Moderation Squad? Ugh, my mind was beginning to play games with me again.
Resting was probably the best choice for me at the moment, and I closed my eyes to sleep with the now-hidden sun. This rest did not last long though, and before I knew it, cries emerged from the direction of Forumopolis. I reared myself up to my feet, wobbling a bit from my drowsiness, and began running towards the city. At first, I was assuming that it was simply another conflict with some of the older people of Forumopolis, as certain things were deteriorating from the city with time. However, the yelling and screaming continued to grow louder as sounds of destruction echoed through my ears such as glass shattering, guns firing, and objects burning.
I ran through the wooded pathway once more, smelling smoke from the nearby urban portions of the city. Right before the pathway opened back up into the treeless mouth of the park, a white, circular reticule appeared in front of wherever my right hand was, and an image behind the reticule flashed all of the colors of the rainbow at insane speeds. Two-dimensional balloons of cartoon colors began floating from the grassy ground, and a raspy voice continuously blurted, “Shoot three balloons and win free movie tickets!”
I had feared that the worst was happening to Forumopolis, and I attempted to get past this odd display, but it always followed in front of my site. Finally, I thrust my right hand forward, and the reticule popped one of the balloons with a horribly compressed popping noise. During this moment, I sprint through the flashing background of this display and ran as it tried to catch up with me.
I now knew what the citizens of Forumopolis were fighting over, and I should have guessed of its occurrence long ago.
My Forumfics have returned. Yes, I know that there's some past/present tense and other grammar issues in portions of it, but that's because I haven't written anything for awhile and this is serving as the "warm-up" for other story/novel ideas of mine. This Forumfic was created in several minutes of time a few days ago and has since turned into a full story with a couple hours of thinking.
I have not created an outline for this one, as the plans for this story have either already been devised, or are created on my daily walks around the area that I live in.
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