Batak Beatrix's Stories

The Last Man on Earth

2008-01-22T08:12:12Z

It was the reverberations of the engines jarring through the earth that woke me, moments before the shattering of the dishes as they hit the floor. Panic flooded my senses, and I jolted awake, pushing myself out of bed to fly towards the window. Heart racing, a cold nervous sweat broke out all over my body, itching like a rash and robbing my mouth of moisture. Tell me I’m wrong.

The ship was just beginning to hover off the ground, and without thought I ran barefoot through the remains of my home, hitting the ground at full speed as I rocketed towards the last transport ship that would ever take off from Earth’s soil.

“Wait!” I tried to scream, but my mouth felt as through it were made of cotton. Tears stung my eyes, and I shook them away, putting my energy into a last burst of speed. If only someone could see me.

But they didn’t. As I watched, the ship gained speed, thrusting upwards through Earth’s damaged atmosphere, taking the last of the planet’s human inhabitants with it.

Except for me.

The Killer Queen (quiz challenge)

2007-12-29T22:29:21Z

Moored off the coast of Australia, Batak put her feet up on the back of her black yacht and smiled. A year ago she had somehow managed to lose everything save her computer in a fire, and here she was now – the host of a ridiculously successful archaeology show on the Discovery Channel and winner of a 20 million dollar lottery prize. It wasn’t all luck though. After discovering the lost library of Alexandria, everyone wanted a piece of her time. So…she bought the yacht and moved. Now the only person who could pull her away would be Queen Elizabeth I. Because that was going to happen. She might as well start a clothing line called “Killer Queen”.

She sighed, reveling in the life of luxury, remembering the days when she had to worry about student loans and graduate school. It all seemed so silly now. She knew that one day she’d have to worry about an heir for her fortune, but by then it was possible she would have enough to splurge on inventing a method of male impregnation…

Hm..there’s a thought.

The Sky Is Falling!

2007-12-29T00:29:17Z

I heard on the news today that the sky is falling.

No, seriously! I walked outside today and a huge chunk of cloud plummeted down and nearly took off my head! You know how they look all fluffy and crap? That’s a damn joke. Those things are hard and horrible, and don’t let nobody tell you any different. A few minutes later another piece fell and squashed the neighbor’s dumb yappy dog. I think it’s still out there if you want to look. Nobody wants to go outside anymore. Stupid neighbors are probably cowering in their basement, eating stockpiled cans of tuna.

Bet those cheapskates are wishing they had spent the extra money to fix the roof now. Thing couldn’t keep out rain, much less sky bits.

I hear that the moon is moving in closer now too. All the scientists are in a flutter; running around in their labs, half squished with pieces of sky. Don’t know what good they gonna do, unless they can shoot the damn thing back up into space. Me, I say let it come.

See if the damn thing is actually made of cheese.

Bubbles Bubbles Everywhere and Not a Drop to Drink

2007-12-28T20:57:58Z

I stare into my glass of lukewarm champagne, watching the occasional bubble still fighting to make its way to the surface. I sympathize with it, visualizing the sad little bubble as a metaphor for my own life, constantly fighting to be free, trying to realize its purpose as it flees to the surface.

All its little companions fled ages ago, a mass exodus of bubbles when the glass was poured. But for some reason, this one was left behind, stuck to the edges of the glass. Waiting for its moment to shine.

Around me, New Year’s Eve is in full swing. I should love this holiday. Isn’t it supposed to celebrate the fact that a new year with new opportunities in store? Instead it seems another opportunity for people who have everything to rub it in the faces of those who don’t.

Not that I’m bitter. That would be silly. Why be bitter when I can drown my issues in nice bubbly glasses of alcohol?

Speaking of which…

I down the champagne in a gulp and search around for the waiter. I need a new glass.

It's All Coming Back To Me Now (Minimum Length Challenge)

2007-12-24T00:42:27Z

Staring at the army of rabid vampire squirrels, he cursed karma.

Having Grown Up a Girl...

2007-12-23T23:37:09Z

Having grown up a girl, I was told that being female meant being “less than,” never as strong, smart, or successful. It might not be constant, or even be obvious, but it’s almost guaranteed that most girls will have to deal with this at some point.

Having grown up a girl, I’m here to tell you that we’re living in a world where gender boundaries do not have to define our lives anymore. For the past century, women have fought to be defined not by their reproductive roles, but as individuals with free will.

Not all women want to get married and have kids, especially at a young age. Not all women like shopping. In fact, many girls hate shopping. Not all women write romance, as there is nothing inherently female about romance.

Women can play sports, drive fast cars, and win at life.

They can choose who they want to be.

As a woman, I can honestly say I’m happy with who I am and have no desire to be a man. But if I was, I’d hope to be much the same as I am now: an individual, and not a stereotype.

A Haven for the Hopeless (Alliteration Challenge)

2007-12-19T02:28:21Z

He carefully crawled into the vestibule of the venerable church as the silent saints watched with sad eyes. His sins had surreptitiously sucked at his soul, searing a hole that brightly burned with the fiendish fires of garroting guilt. The vestiges of a vindictive vendetta, passed to him vicariously by the virtue of a vilifying vow, seeming so stupidly silly now with the bright blood of various victims staining his hands here in these hallowed halls.

Candles burned brightly, a beacon to which he desperately dragged his beaten beleaguered body. Tears trailing down his tanned and torn visage, he felt vulnerable in the face of the vestal Virgin guarding the flickering flames. He knelt, bowing his head before her beatific beauty. Could she grant him benediction for the bevy of lives he had so viciously vivisected?

Bells boomed from the belfry, a balm to his broken soul. They spoke of salvation, soothing his sadness for a short second.

Offering his harrowed heart to the heavens, he prayed for peace.

Abandon All Ho-Ho-Hope

2007-12-18T20:00:47Z

The dread was building up inside me, like an internal balloon filling up. The house loomed before me, looking so innocent, with its twinkling lights and happy little plastic reindeer frolicking in the snowy yard. Some would even call the scene picturesque. Ha.

But I knew better. Inside that happy looking home there lurked a monster: a holiday sweater wearing monster with a camera and an endless barrage of questions revolving around my love life and my weight.

The feeling of cold snow melting into my shoes alerted me to the fact that I had stopped in my tracks, my breath billowing about me in little panicked clouds. God, I hated Chicago winters.

A shadow passed in front of the window and instinctively I ducked down, trying to make myself as small as possible. Really, this was ridiculous. I was a grown woman, not some teenager sneaking in past curfew. Picking up my bags, I plucked up my courage and made my way to the door with Dante’s immortal lines taunting me, “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.”

Five Things I'll Deny If You Ask

2007-12-18T00:15:57Z

1. My life would be so much easier if I quit grad school and just got a job and settled in somewhere. However, I’m too afraid of failure to ever think of any other options.

2. I’ve said for so long that I’m never going to get married or have kids, that I’m afraid to seriously reevaluate my feelings on the issue in case they’ve changed.

3. Despite the fact I’ve been a vegetarian for 12 years, I still sometimes have the urge for a Big Mac.

4. I get a sick satisfaction from surfing Facebook to seeing how poorly people have aged since high school, and feel smugly superior when I hear I’m more successful than them.

5. Somewhere in my mind, I’m still hoping that my career as an archaeologist will somehow resemble that of Indiana Jones.

The Dungeon of My Discontent (Shocking Dialogue)

2007-11-28T01:57:33Z

“What are you doing? Going out there would be akin to suicide!”

“Yes, I know! But really I don’t see any other way! I mean, we’re low on supplies, and unless we find an antidote for the poison, Jeph is going to die! We can’t just sit here and do nothing!”

“Well, what kind of weapons do we have?

“Against an army of undead, brought to life by an evil necromancer? I’d say that we’re up the proverbial creek without a paddle.”

“But there has to be a way! There’s always a way!”

“You’re deluding yourself into thinking that this life is fair! How about the time where Harlowe was trapped in the catacombs with a gelatinous cube and the exits were sealed off? I can still hear his whimpering!”

“I always suspected foul play there! But there is an option! I’m going outside. I’ll use my Bane of Lazarus to take out the army!”

“Hm. You rolled a nine, and you needed at least a twelve for that ploy. Pity. Looks like you were mauled by the ravenous reanimated corpses outside the cave.”

“Saving throw?”

Seven Years of Servitude

2007-11-26T22:48:58Z

When you enter into grad school, what you’re basically doing is entering into a contract of indentured servitude. You exchange approximately seven years of your life in return for the promise of a doctorate. People did it in return for their passage to America, and now I’m doing it for the promise of the future. After all what’s seven years in the grand scheme of things?

Within the past seven years, I have graduated from high school and college. I have lived on the other side of the world, and seen things that most people can only dream of seeing. I’ve lost friends, and made friends that I know I could trust my life with. I’ve moved across the country, leaving everyone I know thousands of miles away. Watched my parents divorce and remarry, and my brother go off to college. I’ve had my heart broken and have since mended it. I’ve lived.

So even as I consign my life to academia for the next seven years, I know that this too will become a part of who I am. It’s more than just an investment.

This is my life.

The Drama of Internal Angst

2007-11-24T20:13:26Z

She glared at the phone, willing it to ring. There were a million things she could be doing, should be doing, but instead she just sat there. Waiting.

Of course she could pick up the phone and dial, but that wasn’t an option for her. That would require her to swallow her pride and show weakness. Which was tantamount to failure in her own mind. Although really, did it matter? She weighed the pros and cons of the situation, carefully evaluating the possible outcomes.

Maintain her cool vs. Getting what she wants.

Sit around the house and wallow vs. Getting what she wants.

Get angry and moody vs…

Okay, that was really unhelpful.

After all, it was a matter of principle wasn’t it? She told herself she wouldn’t do it. Told herself that she wouldn’t give in to her irrational feelings. Desperation was universally unattractive, wasn’t it?

Maybe this was how guys felt all the time. Maybe she should be nicer next time one called her incessantly.

Letting out a groan, she banged her head on the desk.

The Logic of Being Dumped

2007-11-03T23:03:42Z

“I’m breaking up with you, Robert,” she said, thunking a box on his desk. “Here’s all of your crap. I don’t want to see you ever again.”

“But that’s preposterous!” Robert replied with a chuckle. “You can’t break up with me.”

“Oh, I can. And I am,” she told him. “Seeing you makes bile rise in my throat.”

He frowned for a moment, “Let me explain to you why this is not advantageous.”

“Oh dear God…”

“God has nothing to do with this,” he said with a dismissive wave. “However, it has everything to do with Game Theory. For this instance let us assume that you are a rational being wanting to maximize your evolutionary fitness. As a woman this means finding a mate capable of supporting a number of offspring to adulthood. In order to create a balanced societal equilibrium, I, as a virile well-off man have an evolutionary right to a young attractive woman capable of producing said offspring.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes! Logically, we’re meant to be,” he concluded right before her fist connected with his nose.

Drums in the Deep

2007-10-18T22:34:10Z

The shadow of land loomed ominously before them in the fading twilight as the men rowed the boats to shore, lanterns swinging from the bows like fireflies against the dark waves. The captain narrowed his eyes, searching the shoreline for any signs of movement.

“I don’t like it Cap’n,” Blinks muttered as he glared at Francis. “Why can’t we wait ‘til daybreak to go ashore? This island be cursed, I feel it in me bones!”

Francis leaned forward, smirking at the older man. “Ah, your bones serve you well. But if you just listen closely for a moment…”

Screwing up his face, Blinks spat overboard. “I hear naught but the wind,” he claimed with a sneer.

“Drums,” Captain Dalley broke in, and Francis smiled. Say what they will about the captain, he n’er missed a beat.

Which of course would make things difficult.

The first mate was quiet then, eyes widening as he heard the heart beat like thrum rising faintly over the waves.

“Really, you’re only in trouble when the drums stop,” Francis informed him lightly.

Reach Out and Touch Faith (Lyric Challenge)

2007-10-17T22:01:57Z

“Your own personal Jesus! Someone to hear your prayers, someone who cares!”

It was plastered all over the news and morning papers. Nobody quite knew if they were an elaborate joke masterminded by an anti-religious group, or if it originated from the Church itself in an attempt to bring religion back to the masses. No group was coming forward to claim it, but somehow everyone knew about it, from the papers to the Sunday school groups.

Crowds teemed around storefronts, outraged old ladies, bemused teenagers, and incredulous window shopping soccer moms alike. All stood buzzing about, waiting for the unveiling of this scandalous figure, going on sale for $49.99 at a retailer near you.

I wondered what their motivation was, as they pushed their way into the stores, looking for their own “Personal Jesus”. Was it the need to be a part of the hype; a Cabbage Patch Doll for a new generation? Or was it something more, a desperate cry to find faith in a world that has none?

And they say you can’t buy salvation.