Skip to content
June 29, 2015 / justinbatalden

Short Story (part 8)

I woke up to a the sound of two men shouting at each other. I kept my eyes closed scared that if they knew I was awake, there would be more fists with my name on it. At first the small room caused the yelling to echo across the room causing the words to meld together and become incomprehensible. Slowly the words started to make sense.
The man that punched me shouted, “Fuck this guy! Why can’t I just kill him?!”
The other man let out an exasperated sigh as he stated, “This man is our key to get there, Jim!” His voice was seeping with the annoyance of man that was dealing with a very stubborn toddler, “If you kill him without us actually being able to send anyone over there, he won’t be the only body I will have to get rid of!”
Jim seemed to not be happy with the other man’s response because a explosive roar was let loose, as what sounded like the chair I was previously seated on, was thrown against the wall of the room. The chair rebounded off the wall and came to sudden halt as the legs landed square on my back. I tried to stifle the sudden urge to shout out, but was dissapointed when a groan escaped my lips. There was silence for just a moment, in that moment I was praying the echoes of the chair somehow covered up my groan. I sat in the brief silence waiting for the inevitable reprimand for being awake, but it never came.
Instead the sound of footsteps and a heavy door sliding open and slamming shut followed. I stayed still holding my breath not daring to hope that I was left alone in the room. Thirty seconds passed and nothing happened, then one minute, then five minutes, and still nothing happened not a sound was pushed through that room. After what felt like an hour passed I opened my eyes. It took all my strength to stop the blood cruddling scream that was trying to break through my lips. The other man was laying down beside me on his back staring back at me with a huge grin on his face.
“Oh my!” He said giggling, “you look absolutely terrified!” He stood up gracefully and with the ease of an atheltic man. He took off his jacket and brushed off the dirt that he recieved from the ground, then folded the jacket neatly over his arm. He walked around to my back and, with one strong hand, picked me up to my feet. My hands were stilled tied together behind my back forcing me to be hunched over. The man was so immensly tall that I had to strain my neck to be able to look at him in the eyes.
He looked down at me with small girn that seemed to promise all kinds of imaginative ways to induce pain. I tried to release my gaze but he had all control of where I looked, and it seemed that my eyes just kept wanting to stare into the dark brown eyes of this new man. His eyes moved away from mine, and a sense of pressure seemed to have lifted off of my head. The man reached to the side of me and picked up the chair I was sitting in. He placed it in front of me and placed his jacket on the back of the chair. With the grace of a dancer he slide his body in front of the chair and sat down, slowly crossing one leg over the other and carefully placed both hands on his raised knee. He sat in that position for what felt like hours staring at me with no sign of emotion on his face. I stared back at him not daring to move despite the growing discomfort in my lower back and the ache in my legs that seemed to grow and grow with every passing moment. After what felt like an hour I opened my mouth to say something, but was quickly silenced by a raised finger, “that said one moment please.”
I stared at the man for a moment then I brought my eyes down to the ground trying to find something that would help me figure out what I could do in this situation. The man shuffled his body and brought his other foot to the ground. At this I raised my gaze to the man and his emotionless face turned into a smile.
He stood up and placed his hand on my shoulder gently and spoke in a whisper, ” How about you bring me to that wonderful field that you visit on occasion?”
I stared back at him confused on what he was talking about and how I could possibly answer him.
I forced out a mutter of, ” I am not really sure what you are talking about?”
The man’s grip increased in pressure to pass on the message of “Yes, you do.”
I gave the man a desperate look of help and blurted out, “I have no idea how to get there.”
The man smiled back at the comment and said, ” Oh don’t worry I know exactly how to get you there!” At this the man’s free hand raced downwards and jammed a needle cartidge into my thigh. A sharp pain was followed as the needle was projectiled into my thigh. A burning sensation followed as whatever the man injected into me started to effect me.
My heart began to play it’s beat in my skull.
“Ba-dump!” “Ba-dump!” “Ba-dump!”
The man’s grip on my shoulder turned into a iron grip as his eyes burned with excitement. His mouth was spread wide with laughter. And then he was gone. I was standing alone in the middle of the field again. My nose filled with the scent of the flowers and grass. I looked down at my thigh and noticed that the needle was still lodged there. I reached down and ripped it out with a groan of pain and sasitfaction. With a quick look around I saw that I was alone in the field. The man wasn’t able to come with me. I stared around me trying to figure out what I should do. I looked at the trees that surrounded the field hoping there would be  a sign for me to go in the right direction. I then saw a giant tree protruding over the rest of trees like a tower at the edge of the field. It had a kind of aura that gave it a comfort and safety. I started to walk towards the tree. Then I started to hear a hysterical laughter that was forming behind me. The laughter sounded familar to me. I quickly turned around and saw the man standing where I just left behind. His laughter grew into a roar with his head upturned to the sky. He didn’t look at me, I don’t even think he noticed me. I started to back away slowly taking one step at a time. Then I turned around and bolted towards the tree. I kept sprinting and didn’t look back. The man’s roar growing louder and more triumphant behind me.

July 28, 2014 / justinbatalden

Short Story (Part 7)

The man stood in front of me with his hands shoved into his pockets. His grin grew slightly wider as he watched my gaze of curiousity changed into a look of horror. His sharp peircing blue eyes, gazed back at me through his round thin rimmed glasses. When our eyes met it sent a shiver through my spine leaving me with the feeling that he just knew what I was thinking. I turned my eyes away from him quickly.

I tried to hide my fear from him, but it was a wasted effort. He started to chuckle, moving forward, his footsteps echoed throughout the room. His chuckling increased to a small laugh. He stopped inches away from his laughter echoing throughout the room. My heart spoke up again at this point.
“Ba-Dump! Ba-Dump!”
I could feel my mind pulling back towards that field. With every reverbration of laughter my eyesight narrowed. With sudden force the man stopped laughing, as his hands rested on my shoulders. He lowered his face down to mine, eyes flashing, and grabbed my hair pulling it back hard pulling me back into reality. I let out a scream of pain and surprise.
The man brough his mouth to my ear, hot breath hit my face as he shouted “Where the fuck do you think you are going?”
I stared back at him breathing heavily and sweat trickling down my face. I tried to ask him what he wanted from me, but my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth.
The air in the room was stifling hot, my mind kept drifting back to the feild wishing I could feel the cool breeze brush against me. I tried to speak again, but instead a harsh cough came from my mouth spraying the man in the face with my spittle. He stood up quickly rubbing his face fiercly with his hands.
He turned back to me screaming, “Are you kidding me?”
He slammed his fist into my nose, a loud crack came from my nose and blood gushed onto my pants. I tried to scream out in pain, but the scream was silenced by the man’s hand crushing my throat.
He stared into my eyes, and whispered, ” Don’t you dare make a noise. Right now anything you have to say does not interest me. I just want you to sit here and be quiet, if you make a sound, do an unnecessary movement, or cause me to become upset . . . .”
He let go of my throat and stepped back, he ran his hands through his hair letting out an exasperated sigh. His eyes ran over my whole person, as if to analyze me completely for later use. He turned away quickly as his eyes were filled with a look of disgust.
” Your kind disgusts me,” the whispered back to me.
He rested his hands on his knees breathing heavily, as his body started shudder.
Through sobs he spluttered out, ” You all have the same disgusting scent and look.”
I stared at back of the man’s head trying to figure out what he meant by that, and as if he read my mind he turned around quickly landing a fist on my cheek. He hit me with such force that I fell over onto the steel floor with a loud clang as my skull bounced off the ground. I had a chance to glimspe the man’s face of rage before my vision was filled with the metal floor.

June 9, 2014 / justinbatalden

Life Not Wasted

One’s own life is nothing
To live for yourself
Is empty.
Why show all your successes
And failures to a private viewer?
Why not let that show be viewed
By more than one?
Why not let your life be known
By others?
Why hide yourself
From minds that want to experience?
To live by oneself.
To be the only one to celebrate
Or to console.
Just seems to be a waste.
A waste of opportunities.
A waste of a gift given to the lucky few.
LIfe is a gift that shouldn’t be wasted
On the one viewer.
It should be shared with others,
Because those others
Want to share with you.
You could be that hero,
To that one viewer that brings
Them out of their darkness.
Or that other could even become
The hero you needed.
Don’t waste away in front
Of that one sided mirror
Stand up
Break free
And live
Like you always wanted to.

June 9, 2014 / justinbatalden

Today I stand as the man I wish I was.
A man of control
A man of love
A man of compassion
A man of wisdom
A man of wealth
A man of generosity
A man of hope
But yesterday I stood as a man
Or more of stood as a boy
A boy that feared
A boy that played
A boy that regretted
A boy that stole
A boy that destroyed.
I was a boy and today I am still that boy
But tomorrow I hope I am that man
Tomorrow I wish to be a man.

March 30, 2014 / justinbatalden

Short Story (Part 6)

I turned around in a circle staring at my surroundings with my mouth slightly open. The grass and wildflowers reached up to the middle of my thighs. A breeze laden heavy with the scent of flowers and grass raced along the top of the field. The sky was bright and clear, with a few white clouds creeping along the horizon. I heard birds chirping from inside the grass calling to each other. I searched the surrounding horizon looking for some sort of obstruction to the continuing field and horizon.

My search resulted in finding nothing more just flowers and clouds. I sunk down into the grass holding my head.
“Ba-dump”. “Ba-dump”.
My head moved up and down with the beat of my heart pounding in my ears. I couldn’t imagine why I was here in this field. It felt great, it was peaceful, beautiful, a place where I felt at home, but I forgot of my past and what was happening to me.

My heart beat started to ebb away slowly become a normal noise and feeling of my body.

That didnt last for long though. I slowly raised my head keeping my eyes closed. I still did not believe that I was truly out of that chair. The more I thought about it the wind and sunshine that was supposed to brushing against my body did not feel refreshing or even warm. I couldn’t feel the sun beating down on my neck beating away at its defenses with it’s radiation. I slowly opened my eyes, and as if my heart didn’t want that to happen sent a gigantic pulse of blood through my body.
“BA-DUMP!”

This pulse made my whole body seem to jump up off of the ground. But then I noticed that my feet did not push off a soft grassy field but a hard cold surface. When my body seemed to come back down from it is pulse powered propulsion into the air. I felt the hard steel back of the chair I was sitting in. I heard the small metal groan of exasperation from the chair as my weight eased back into the seat. Then the drone of the cicadas filled my ears but they seeemed farther away and the buzzing if their wings wasn’t filling my head or overwhelming my senses. I slowly raised my head and looked the sunlight that streamed into my dark steel cage. A man stood in front of me with a small smile on his face.

September 16, 2013 / justinbatalden

Short Story (Part 5)

I woke up accompanied  with a feeling as if someone was driving a nail into the back of my head. I raised my head, wincing as the nail was driven deeper, trying to take in my surroundings. My hands were cuffed to the back of  a small steel chair in a dark hot room. Sweat was dripping off my chin and nose and gathering in a pool at the bottom of my feet. The drone of cicadas echo throughout the room of the room filling my head with the note of their vibrating wings. I stared at the daylight that was glimmering through what appeared to be a door, hoping to see if anything is moving outside of the room. Suddenly a shadow blocks out the light so quickly I was unsure if I had blinked. Again the light was blocked out. Then again. The light started to go out and appear, in a pulsating rhythm, starting out slow and slowly picking up speed causing a strobe light effect. The sound of the cicadas started to die and rise with the rhythm of the pulsating light, soon turning it into a sound that was pounding against my ears. The pain in the back of my head and in my ears became unbearable, I start to yell trying to combat the raising note of the cicadas and the driving pain in my head. I screamed louder and tasted blood on the back of my tongue. I could feel my sanity starting to slip and thin. I tried to screaming louder in hopes of holding to the last bit of sanity available to me. My heart started to pound throughout my whole body, it started to drown out the cicadas and lessen the strobe effect with a loud ‘Ba-Dump’ ‘Ba-Dump’.

Suddenly the sound stopped, the flashing stopped, and even the pain disappeared. I opened my eyes and saw that I was in a middle of a grassy field.

July 21, 2013 / justinbatalden

Short Story (Part 4)

I stood staring at my door. Breathing heavily and quickly. Sweat started to bead on my forehead and run down my face collecting on my nose. With every breath a drop of sweat would fly off my nose and land on the word “Life” in front of me. However, when the sweat landed on the word, it turned red and thick like blood and started to turn the word to a bright red. I turn from the door, sprinting down the hallway towards the stairs. I start to take the winding stairs two at time, and sometimes jumping to the next landing. I get to 2nd floor and I take a misstep and stumble hurtling my body down the stairs. I woke up at the bottom of the stairs. I lay there trying to decide if anything was broken, flexing every joint and bone I could. Nothing seemed wrong until I tried to stand up. I tried to move my right arm but a sharp bolt of pain shot through my body, I gave a small yell of pain and realized that I was laying on my arm. I rolled to my left and pushed myself up as my right arm shot another bolt of pain through my body as gravity took it and caused to swing out and hang loosely at the shoulder. I stood up leaning my left shoulder against the wall. I grabbed my right arm and cradled it against my body. I walked slowly to the door that led out of the stair well. As I reached the door I leaned my body against the door breathing heavy from the pain. I stare out the small window of the door wide eyed and trying to decide if I was safe to walk out the door. After a couple minutes I push open the door slowly gritting my teeth as my right arm shifted weight. I walked a couple feet out of the doorway took in my surroundings noticing I was alone. I started to walk to the street hoping to flag a cab and get to the hospital. The messages that were left in and on my apartment had left my mind at the moment. But they returned for a split second as the man walked up to behind me and struck me on the head, causing my vision to black out for the third time that day.

June 17, 2013 / justinbatalden

Short Story (Part 3)

The knocking stopped, my heart kept beating throughout my whole body.  My heavy breathing started to drown out the “Ba-dump” that was still ringing in my ears. I was surprised to have found myself curled on the floor with my hands wrapped around my head. I slowly uncurled my body and stood up shaking slightly. I stood with my head bent over clutching the table that was in the entryway trying to regain my strength.

I look at the door and see that a piece of paper was shoved, in a loose ball, underneath. I shuffle towards the door and clumsily bend over and grab the paper. I start to open the sheet of paper my hands shaking violently. I unfolded the piece of paper, and i see one word “False”. I look at both sides of the paper trying to find anything else, but the word “False” was the only thing on the piece of paper.

I stood up quickly looking through the glass over the door, no one was there. I quietly opened the door and poked my head out of the door and looked down the the empty hallway. I kept looking for a couple more minutes and then went back into my apartment and quietly closed the door. I leaned my back against the door and stared the word on the piece of paper.

The word grabbed my attention and wouldn’t let it go. Soon all that was occupying my mind, the constant hard pulse of my heart and the word “False” flashing in my mind. I couldn’t understand what the message meant. What did the person mean when he gave me the message? What could have possibly been false? I couldn’t have guessed what the man was telling me. If only I could have understood what that message meant and I probably would have changed the outcome of what my life would become now.

I gave up on trying to figure out what the message meant. I figured I would learn soon what it was supposed to mean. I walked out of my apartment and closed the door. I started to lock my dead bolt, but then I stopped. I saw that on my door was another note. It was written in a black marker. All it said was “Life”.

June 8, 2013 / justinbatalden

A short story (Part 2)

I wake up with my head pounding and dried blood on my face. I looked at the time and saw that I was out for a couple hours. I put my hand to my nose, and quickly pull it away with a sharp inhale. I stand up slamming a hand on the wall to support myself. I slide over to the mirror over the sink in the bathroom and flinch with pain as I see my crooked nose. I place my fingers on both sides of my nose, taking a deep breath and with a groan I pushed my nose back into place.
My vision flashed white as I stood over the sink gasping for breath. I reached over and grabbed a rag, placing it to my nose to help control the bleeding. I walked out to the living room and slouched down into the couch as I turned on the T.V. A high pitch whine filled the room as the picture rendered. The local news was on, the anchor woman droned on about the accomplishments of a young teenage girl that did something extraordinarily caring. I didn’t give any attention to what the woman was saying. I only used the television as a background noise.
I relaxed back into the couch letting the pain of my nose subside. After the bleeding stopped I threw the rag in the sink, and washed my face. I decided I should go for a walk and made my way to the front door. As I reached for the door knob a loud rap sounded at my door. My hand froze on the door handle slightly alarmed at the loud noise. I looked out through the frosted window at the top of the door and saw a large figure in front of my door.
I stepped quickly away from the door. Terrified of the figure, “Ba-dump” “Ba-dump” raged through my whole body. A loud knock sounded at the door again, and again, and again. His knocks soon came in sync with my heart each “Ba-dump” was followed with a knock. Soon my whole apartment with filled with a constant “Ba-dump” “Knock” “Ba-dump” “Knock”.

June 7, 2013 / justinbatalden

A short story (Part One)

I am staring at my ceiling in my bedroom following the hideous white textured paint job that every house seems to have in my apartment complex. To me it is the only thing that can get my mind off the events of the day. With each rough bit of spackle I run my eyes over, they take with them a memory. I take deep breaths trying to slow my heart rate. My heart has been a nusiance all day giving me warnings left and right for a bounding squirrel or a spastic burst of feathers from a startled bird. It also caused me to go to new worlds, that part of my day is what I really want to forget.
So I started to leave all the events behind with my hideous white spackled ceiling. It was working until I ran out of space in the ceiling. I tried to overlap memories but that would just bring that memory out and implant back into my mind.
It started when i woke up this morning, my alarm didn’t wake me up it was my heart that did. My whole body pulsating with every “BA-Dump” that sounded off in my ears, my breath was heavy, my mouth was dry from snoring and lack of water, and my eyes were crusted with dried tears. I didn’t remember crying last night but my dream must of been something sad or incredibly happy, but I believe it was the former option to be true. I haven’t dreamed about something happy since my last relationship, which was 2 years ago.
I stood up from my bed my vision going black, my body still pulsating from each “Ba-dump”. I stumble forward trying to find the nearest wall to let my vision come back to normal. I tripped over a pile of clothes falling over planting my face square onto the wall.