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The saga of Billy Benson
#1

The cold and damp street shimmered as the headlights appeared in the distance. The car had its bright lights on and it was moving nearly 100 miles an hour down the deserted country road. The road was extremely slick and the tires skidded every 100 or so feet. This driving was extremely reckless and dangerous, and Billy knew it. He looked behind him to see if it was still following him and saw nothing. His paranoia had consumed him. Racing down the highway that wet November night he had a lot of thoughts going through his mind, but at the center of them all was hockey. 

He had not slept at all in the past 36 hours, but his mind had shown no signs of slowing down; in fact he would describe his mind as racing, much like his car. He was so overwhelmed and distraught that he had forgotten to watch the road. That was when it all came to a halt. He didn't feel anything at first, or for a while, but when he did finally grasp what had happened, he felt traumatized. 

The red glow of the bright lights was what woke him. He looked down at himself and saw his legs and left arm buried in the wet mud. His whole body was numb, but the pain kept him on earth. He tried to move something to no avail. He tried harder and harder as the pain kept increasing from the moving of his appendages. After several minutes of struggling he managed to pull himself out of the mud and look the person standing over him in the eyes. He noticed them when he first woke up and he knew who it was. It stuck out a bony hand and Billy could only stare at it. It was a moment of hesitation for him, but he knew his path and what he had to do. Billy took a deep breath and took its hand into the darkness. 

The smell was overwhelming, but Billy knew it well. It was freshly frozen ice. He opened his eyes and looked out. He saw a hockey rink filled with 100s of skaters. Most were dressed up in heavy winter coats and fluffy wool hats except for one boy. That boy was Billy. You could always pick him out from a crowd, because he never wore anything to keep him warm. He used to love his summer attire of shorts and a t-shirt so much that he never would dawn the outside world with anything else. The boy was skating much faster than all of the other casual goers and seemed to almost knock down a few older folks on his rampage. Billy watched for a while. Seeing a younger version of himself brought him back to a simpler time when he and his punk friends would play contact hockey in the middle of free skate at the public rink. He believed this to be what he was seeing, but he could not make out any of his friends. In fact, as he looked closer he realized that he could make out no-one. Everyone had their backs turned to Billy except for his younger self. He tried to run to the left to get a better vantage point, but he looked down to realize that he had been immobilized by a set of dark bloody chains. At the end of these chains was the figure that had approached him on the side of the road. It seemed to be pulling Billy closer and closer and closer. While being pulled out, to which he could do nothing about, he looked over and saw his former self parked in the middle of the ice staring at him. He seemed to be mouthing words, but Billy could not make them out. When Billy’s chains finally reached the figure he closed his eyes. 

His eyes snapped to a small room with red painted walls and a yellow chair placed in the exact center. The walls seemed to be lined with degrees and honors, but do places he had never heard of before. After a few seconds a large rectangle formed on the wall to reveal a green door. It opened and in walked a man dressed in a formal suit and with unkempt brown hair. The defeated look in his eyes was only accentuated by the many wrinkles and large eye bags that flooded his face. He came into the room and quickly hurried over to the chair and sat down in it. He pulled out his briefcase and began to sort through some papers until it seemed that he had found what he was looking for. He pulled out a yellow document and laid the rest of his messy briefcase on the floor. His eyes darted up and down the paper, as to double check everything was correct, before finally clearing his throat and beginning to speak. “Billy Benson I presume.” He rattled at me with a scratchy voice. Confused, Billy only sat there in silence for a few seconds before he gave me another large throat clear which brought me back to reality. “Uhh, yes sir that is me”. “Excellent, looks like you are ready for processing.” Billy looked at him with a confused look for a few seconds before he finally met my gaze again. “Oh dear me. I completely forgot. You must be confused as hell right now.” Billy nodded in agreement. “Well first off let me just say welcome. Welcome to hell. You are here for some reason or another. Usually a life of sinning or some soul selling shenanigans, but that is not my concern. My job is to get you situated in your torture cell and take care of any redemption appeals, etc etc.” Billy’s blank stare only materialized further upon hearing this. “I am where?” Billy demanded in an exasperated breath. “Hell” the lawyer replied quickly as if he was asked this question almost daily by a million different doomed souls.”Now please. Let me get this over with. Do you wish to appeal your damnation or do you just want to accept it:” Confused, Billy in the moment blurted “appeal”. 

The eyes of the man sunk and his tired gaze was replaced with one of great disappointment. He let out a great sigh and then picked up a second clipboard and began to fill out a different form. It took him a few moments, but he finally finished and then handed the piece of paper to Billy. “First door on the right”. Billy nodded and got up and began to stumble towards the doorway on the other side of the room. He pulled open a large steel door that covers the wall and stepped inside. There was a large corridor that spanned down several feet ahead of him. Strobe light lined the walls. It looked as if he was in an old submarine far under the waves. He began to make his way down the corridor as his echoing footsteps filled the cramped room. He could not see more than a few feet ahead of him so he spent most of his time walking blind until he finally came to a sharp left in the corridor. He turned it and he was overwhelmed with the blinding light of a gigantic chamber. Inside the chamber were a large number of people all standing in neat lines for a booth at the apex of the room. It looked like the bank Billy had worked in when he was younger. It was clean and orderly, but also somehow just equally as chaotic. 

Billy remembered why he was there all of a sudden. He filed into line. He wished to appeal his damnation at the hands of his god. He waited for several hours, like the damn DMV he muttered to himself, and finally after so much waiting he finally got the window to talk to the women in charge of the whole thing. “I wish to appeal my damnation please” Billy said as he stumbled to the window. Without even saying a word she handed him a form. Billy sat down and filled it out. The paperwork was long and arduous, but he got it done. He got back in the long line and waited 45 minutes only to be told he was in the wrong line. So he got in the correct line and waited another hour to get his paperwork processed. Finally he got to the booth and the lady took his form and stamped on it a few times. She looked up at him and began to recite some words that she had obviously memorized and repeated hundreds of times today. “Are you aware of the terms of this appeal to which you will be sent to super-hell if you are found to not be worthy of appealment. Do you understand these terms as I have stated them?” “Yes” replied Billy. And then it was black. 

Billy opened his eyes. He recognized the sky. It was the sky of one of those old Irish summers that he had forgotten. They were so long ago and their magic had been lost, but in this moment Billy began to remember. He stood up and looked around. He was in the middle of a green pasture with rolling hills to his left and to his right. He suddenly heard children from behind him. He twirled around to see a small girl being chased by two boys. They were running right at him at a full pace. Billy braced for an impact, but he was surprised when he felt nothing. In fact, the two children had run right through him. He took his hand and attempted to reach down only to discover that it went right through him. Holy shit he muttered, but it was then he remembered why he was there. He was there to appeal his damnation and he knew where he needed to be. 

Billy sprinted down the hill towards the town. He knew where it was of course. It was nestled between two large hills in the dankest or river valleys. The town was quiet this morning. The morning goers had left and the evening returners had yet to return. It was pretty hot today, that's how he remembered that day, but the cool breeze never failed to hit him every once in a while. Into the town there was a long dirt road that winded and winded for miles. It was not designed for cars, in fact it was probably a bit pre-historic for horses, but it got the job done for getting people from point A to point B. It had rained the night before and  the mud was extra sloppy and brown today. It stained Billy’s pants as he ran along in a desperate attempt to make it to the hockey rink. The rink was in the center of town, and it was the hotbed for the entire town. A lot of the town's economy depended on it. 
The town in the small hills of ireland raised the best damn hockey players to ever play. People came from all over to see these boys play and it was a spectacle. Billy had been one of those hockey players. He was a great defensemen, many claimed to be the best they had ever seen, and he put his skills to work playing local clubs throughout Ireland. It was in Ireland that his life took a turn for the worse. After a couple minutes of running Billy finally came to the spot where he knew it would happen. He looked around for an entrance, but then he remembered that he could walk through walls. So he did. He walked through the outer wall right into the women's bathroom. They couldn't see him of-course, but he made his way through, maybe walking a little slower than he should have, but through nonetheless. 

He entered the main chamber where the players were beginning to warm up on the ice. He had a few minutes. He had arrived early. He saw himself on the Ice. He was so young, he was so happy, he was way too fucking cocky. That was what got him in the end. After the players finished skating and moved their way into the locker room. He saw himself in the corner undressing. He saw the man tap him on the shoulder. He saw himself shoot around. He saw being lured out into the alley. He saw the man offer his past self the drugs. He saw it all. What was Billy going to do? He had to act. But how? How could he ever fight something like this? He panicked and panicked. The transaction was closer to being completed. It was now or never. Billy knew what he had to do. He threw himself at his old self. He felt what could be described as a vacuum coming over his whole body. He was back in his body. He had the choice. He had it again. He had the freedom. He punched the fucker in his face and ran. He was running away faster than he had ever again and he was out of breath, but he never was able to sigh a bigger sigh of relief.


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2224 Words; x2 media for first article please.

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#2

Very nicely done for your very first article! Keep it up! Smile

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Thank you to @Carpy48 and @rum_ham for the signatures!
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