Katie's Future

So I know technically this isn't a blog. I'm cheating a little. I told Katie I would write a story about her future. (completely fictional and sappy and stupid. That's how I write best :p) So here I am sitting in photography thinking "why not count this as a blog entry. This is marathon Wednesdays after all." So I'm caving, and calling this a blog. Even though you and I both know it really isn't technically the type of blogs I usually write.

Ok. So where should I start this? Eventually Tony has to come in the picture Katie, but I'm not going to focus on him in this short story.

Yes you'll be married Katie. But hmm.. *strokes chin in thinking position*

It all started when you went to college at Juliard. Juliard was a long way from home and you were sort of the outsider. About the only thing you had in common with some of the people was your love for music. Usually that was enough to build a friendship up on, but not in this case. It was like these people were a whole new species. You would go to rehersals 12 hours a day every day and play beautifully, and then you would go home and play with your gold fish. This is how your life went every day during the school year. But then something very tragic happened, your goldfish died. You were devasted. You loved that fish, it was the only one who you felt like they understood you. So after giving bubbles a proper burial and after going to your 12 hour rehersal of course, you walked to Walmart. (You didn't have a car, because you procrastinated so much on getting your license and the DMV decided that anyone who waits more than 3 months to get their permit must not want it enough. So you were told to wait untill you turned 36.)

On your way to Walmart the unthinkable happened. You were crossing the street. You pressed the button with the hand just like any good citizen would do. Looked both ways five times, even though you had the green light. And proceeded to carefully cross the street at the crosswalk. But someone who was to busy laughing with their friends didn't notice that

A) they had a red light

and

B) someone was crossing the street

They hit you. Hard. (duh, how else would a speeding car hit you!?)

They didn't even know they hit anything, that's how little they were paying attention to the road, and others in the car just thought they hit a speedbump.

But there was a witness. The principal tuba player in your band.****

He saw the accident completely unfold, for he was patiently stopped at the red light.

Little did you know that this tuba player never originally wanted to major in music. He wanted to be a paramedic. But he got a scholarship, and in order to keep the scholarship he had to play in the band (he was that good of a tuba player.).

Of course you didn't see that he was the driver to one of the stopped cars, because when in rehersal you got so focused that it was like all you saw was your music and the conductor. Sure you knew that your conductor sometimes furrowed his brows, and had a tendency to forget to wear sunscreen (sound familiar?) and that even upon further concentration you were able to tell the color of his eyes. 

But you never once took a good look at the people sitting behind you. 

Time seemed to stop all around you and everything was filled with darkness.

A lot of things happened that night, a lot of flashing lights and a lot of frantic gasps.

Of course you heard none of this. You couldn't see or hear anything going on around you. But the blackness had evolved into a kaleidascope of colors. Pinks, Oranges, and Greens. With gold fish swimming in every direction. 

And then like the snap of your fingers, everything went black again and you heard a flush of a commode. 

The first thing you saw when you woke up was the tuba player. He looked really tired and for some reason, you couldn't figure out why, he looked familiar to you. His chin which was ordinarily white was now spotted with black. 

He didn't notice that you woke up, for he was fighting sleep and loosing.

You were about to ask who he was when an unmanageable pain shot through your whole head. Suddenly you heard all of the beeps. They were speeding up. If you had been thinking correctly you would have realized that this was your heartrate monitor.

The increased rate of your heart beat and the alarming signal that accompanied it abruptly woke up the tuba player.

He didn't even acknowledge you, he just stormed into the hallway screaming for help.

You fell back into deep unconciousness again. This time with no kaleidascope of colors. Just that lonely veil of blackness. 

The next time you woke up it was dark outside the windows, and in the chair where the tuba player once sat was your dad. 

It looked like he had been crying, but you couldn't figure out why he would be crying. Last time you had remembered you had just come back from band practice at Lincoln. You thought the unthinkable to yourself: surely Kristine didn't run into another trash can and hit his antique car. 

You were trying to ask him what happened when you felt the tubes. The tubes running down your throat and were threatening to gag you. You didn't remember those tubes last night when you went to bed. In the blink of an eye it all came back to you. The flush of the commode. The cross walk. The car that came out of nowhere. The honk. And then the darkness. 

You looked to the left and you saw him again. The tuba player, though you still didn't recognize him. Was he the one who had hit you? 

No one in the room had noticed that you had woken up, and you were glad. It gave you plenty of time to try to put together the puzzle pieces. 

You looked all around, deciding that you were in fact in a hospital. But it was only on the last sweep did you see it. A piece of glass. A mirror in fact. And what you saw caused you to freak out, and scarred you forever. 

DUH DUH DUH.

TO BE CONTINUED.

(sorry it got a little long. I'll continue it tomorrow guys. I really do need to do my math homework.)

** For your tragedy I randomly asked someone to call out something horrible that could happen to someone. That's how I came to this. They're mad that I made it a hit and run in a car instead of a drive by shooting. They wanted me to have a random gangster come by and to put it lightly, shoot you. They wanted your dad to testify against a mobster and they wanted me to incorporate a hired hitman from the mob to come and take care of you and your dad *wink wink*. And have the tuba player pull out a gun and kill the hitman and be all heroic. You know the gushy stuff.

**** Again I did not pick this instrument. I asked the person sitting next to me to randomly (Thanks Emily) name an instrument.