Freewrite #4 Jack Fletcher Series pt.4

IMPORTANT: If you have not read both Freewrites #1,2, and 3, go back and read them first. The order of the freewrites is the by DATE PUBLISHED. They are not in chronological order.

Freewrite #4

Today

The clouds started to part. It had stopped raining. White moonlight shined through, reflecting off of the wet, oily street.

Jack ran down the street., not sure of where he was going. He only knew that must not go with that man, John Fischer, whom he had spoken with almost 3 minutes ago.

Something about the man's voice didn't sit right with Jack.

And what about the man he had punched? He seemed familiar, though Jack didn't know why.

Jack didn't even know if his name really was Jack. It was just a name on a wristband. Jack Fletcher, #431.

The sun would be up in a few hours. He had to get out of sight. A near barefoot man wearing all white would stand out like a sore thumb here.

Speaking of which, where was “here” exactly?

A car could be heard in the distance, gaining on Jack.It was the doctor.

Jack ran hard. The black Honda's headlights were 300 yards away, and gaining. It would only be a couple of seconds now.

Shots rang out. Jack dove to the ground, , not knowing whether this would be a leap towards heaven or a fall to hell. He expected the latter.

Bullets whizzed by on his left and right. The headlights went out.

The bullets stopped.

Jack heard a car reverse and head in the opposite direction. It was the Honda!

Jack had survived!

Jack stood up, white clothes stained black by the wet asphalt. His socks had several new holes in them and his feet had developed a few blisters. Still, he lived! And the car was gone which meant Jack could relax for a moment.

Then Jack remembered what had just happened, why the car had left.

That's when several men emerged from the two alleys ahead where the bullets had flown from.

They closed in on Jack.

Freewrite #3

IMPORTANT: If you have not read both Freewrites #1 and #2, go back and read them first. The order of the freewrites is the by DATE PUBLISHED. They are not in chronological order.

Freewrite #3

Two Weeks Ago

Three men wearing white coats stood outside the room.

The second of the three men held a clipboard.

The third clenched a black and white BIC pen.

The first held nothing.

“When did he come out of it?” said Number One.

“We're not quite sure. He seems to have no recollection of where he is or who he is.” said the second, eyes squinting behind thick, broad rimmed black glasses. He stared at his clipboard.

“The polygraph says he is telling the truth.”

“We figured that there would be memory loss. The question was never 'if,' but 'how much?' Now we know.” said the third, shrugging.

“Still,” said Number One. “We can't be too careful. We have to make sure that this worked or it'll be our heads. Put Thompson in his room. See if he can get anything first. If that doesn't work, schedule a breakout.”

“A breakout? Are you sure? We don't know what kind of condition he is in, what kind of damage he can do.” said the second.

“It's the only way we will know.” said Number One.

A Note about the Freewrites

So, here's the deal:
I write these with the first word or image that pops into my head and go from there. There isn't a story board or much of a general outline. I have a couple ideas about what I want to write, but when I say a couple of ideas, I mean a COUPLE (maybe a Few) of ideas.
Anyhow, I can't tell you exactly where the story is going because, honestly, I don't even know.

My brief disclaimer: Any characters that appear in this story have no relation to anyone in the real world. Names that actually happen to exist in the real world are simply coincidence.

So with that, let 'er roll.

Freewrite #2

IMPORTANT: READ FREEWRITE #1 BEFORE READING #2. THEY ARE IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER.

Freewrite #2

The injured man stopped crying and started to stand up.

"Here, let me help you." said Jack, with an outstretched arm, holding the baseball cap in his other hand.

The man spat on the hand. "Crazy lunatic. I Never should have listened to him. " Then the man walked off, opposite the way he had come, as if nothing had happened...

Listened to who?

A phone lying under a covered sidewalk rang. Sounds of Vivaldi's Four Seasons filled the atmosphere, underscoring the rainy weather.

Where did the phone come from?

It must have been that guy's. Strange that it landed on the sidewalk instead of the asphalt.

Jack picked up the phone.

“Who is this?” asked Jack.

“Hello Jack” answered a deep, calm voice. “How have you been? 'Things feeling a bit out of place? That's because they are Jack. Things change with time."

“Time? What do you mean? What are you talking about?” Jack responded.

“Oh? You don't remember? Jack, you've been a patient at the ward for three years. Please, come back and we will sort this all out.” said the voice.

“Ward? I don't remember any ward. Who are you?” said Jack.

“My name is John Fischer. I'm your doctor. And by the look of things you could use my help. You pack quite a punch!” said John, tone and pitch raised.

“I see. You are my doctor, and I am the simple patient who has lost his memory? That's pretty convenient. I will say, you have me on the memory bit. I can't remember a thing. But answer me this ... ” Jack said looking sideways at a black Honda across the street. A man with short, brown hair sat inside on a cellphone.

Jack looked forward.

“What kind of doctor stalks his patient?”

“The kind who cares.” said John, deeper again.

Jack glanced at the car once more. Something was different. Sitting in the passenger seat was a man in a brown fedora. It was him!

“Don't run Jack.” said John

“Run? Why would I run? You're just a doctor, right?” said Jack.

Jack ran.

Freewrite #1

Freewrite #1

Splash! Splash!

Splash Splash!

It was raining. And it was windy. And those were puddles. Puddles make noise. And he didn't want to make noise.

For man-on-the-run Jack Fletcher, this fit right in with his day. It wasn't bad enough that he was being hunted by some deranged killer. A man with blood on his hands. Quite literally.

It had been almost fifteen minutes, just past midnight, since the would-be assassin with the brown fedora had cornered him in a dark alley behind Jim's Pizza and Eatery.

Why was he chasing him? What had he done now?

This day made no sense. Neither did the white jumpsuit he was wearing or the fact that he was only wearing white socks.

Why can't I remember anything, thought Jack.

Pulling a memory over two weeks old from his brain was like wrestling a pit-bull from a raw, sirloin steak.

Forget it. 'Can't worry about that now. Stay focused Jack and we'll see if we can't keep you alive another day.

Jack rounded a blind corner. A perfect place to get the upper-hand.

Wait for it Jack. Wait for it.

Splash! Splash!

Here he comes. One more second.

A rounded head wearing a brown fedora peaked its head out of the corner.

Slam!

Knuckled flesh struck a glass jaw. A left hook connected with the man's nose. The fedora went flying.

The man hit the ground. Out cold. But that didn't stop the blood from gushing out of the assassin's broken nose.

Jack followed the blood as it mixed with rainwater and flowed downhill, across the street.

Jack stood, bewildered.

Did I just do that?

The man's eyelids cracked open. His mouth followed close behind.

“Ahhhhhh!” screamed the man. Though whether it was a cry of pain or a cry of anger, Jack didn't know.

Tears began to flow down the man's face. His wails grew louder.

No, thought Jack, this is definitely not the sound of anger This man is in pain! Well, serves him right for trying to kill me.

Jack kneeled down to get a closer look at the man who could have been his end. Who would dare try to kill him? Who had the guts? Didn't this guy know who he was?

I wish he did. At least then I might be able to get some answers.

Jack stood still for a second and looked at the man directly in the eyes, and recoiled.

This isn't him! This isn't the same person!

Jack looked over at where the fedora had landed, except it wasn't a fedora. It was a New York Yankees baseball cap.

What is going on? thought Jack.

SKYNET Delayed! End of the world pushed back.

November 7,2027

A soft light glows in the night sky. It circles around the earth in the same pattern that it has for the last three years. Calm. Normal. Not like the earth beneath it. On earth, metallic androids known as " Terminators" have taken over.

It turns out crazy kid and his mom were telling the truth.
Whooda thunk it?
Let's go back a decade or two.






November 7, 2007

In case you all missed it, the UK has delayed the launch of their 3.6 billion pound (the currency, not the weight) military Skynet 5B satellite.
5B was to join its sister satellite, the 5A, which was launched last March.

The satellite system is "designed to give British commanders access to more information, much faster," reported the BBC.

"The spacecraft's[5B] Ariane rocket has developed an electronic problem in one of its solid fuel boosters and will be rolled back to an inspection shed."

Electronic problem? Maybe Judgement Day isn't too far afterall.

The truth is that Skynet has been around for quite sometime. The 60's actually. In any case, I am sure that I one of millions that are making this joke.

Did you know that...?

Did you know that the man with $1 in his bank account and Jesus is more financially stable than the one who has $1 billion and is alone?

See, the man who has Jesus is promised that Jesus will take care of him, while the one without Jesus has no such promise.

So, when that financial crash comes, and it will, the man who had $1 billion will find that in the end he had nothing and was grabbing the wind, while the Christian who trusts in God for his provision will find himself still fed.
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Writing about murder- Journaling about journalism

I promised in a twitter message that I would write about my experience on covering my first murder trial.

====Disclaimer====
As this is a journal of my experience, not a news article, you will be reading some of my opinion.
Once again, I am not a lawyer, a judge, or on the jury. This is a story coming from an up-and-coming journalist who is LEARNING. Thus, this article despite my best efforts, may contain an error or two. Treat this like Wikipedia, not the L.A. Times.
Got it? Good.
===============

The night before:
I was in class, stressing out about what I should do for my court article. It had to be on a criminal trial. The teacher was excellent at giving several tips including who I could rely on for information (read: not the court reporter, clerk, or judge. Who is left?) regarding the background of a specific case.

NOTE: I didn't have a clue what I was going to report on last night. So I asked God to help me out.

Morning and Afternoon.

When I went into the court house, everything worked out PERFECTLY. While going through the metal detector, I asked an Sheriff's department officer if he knew of interesting cases today. He said that there was going to be something going on in A-5 at 11. A CLUE!
So I went to A-5 around 10-1030. The judge was hearing several cases.
I approached the baliff's in the room and asked for more information, which they provided.
I also was able to talk to one of the detectives in charge of the investigation. He was also a witness.
I obtained contact info from both the prosecutor and the defense to obtain a statement later.
It really was like a puzzle. Getting one whispered clue about where I should be at such and such a time or who I should talk to to get specific information.
So, some tips for my fellow freelancers and beginning journalists:

Things I have learned last night and today:
1. Baliffs are your best source for background info.
2. Be careful of how loud you ask certain questions and be aware of your surroundings as you don't know who might me behind you e.g. the defendants family.
3. Remember, ANYTHING said in a courtroom is public and can be legally written about. Use your own discretion.
4. Be Bold. Don't be intimidated. Some people won't like you. Some people will. Please the people is not your job, telling the truth as accurately as possible is.
5. Nevertheless, be sensitive. Having had family in prison for crimes, I can tell you it is important to remember what your words will do to the families left in their wake.

Well that, is about it. 'Til next time

Untitled by the Moment

"Untitled by the moment" Jacob Nahin

Have you ever felt like running away? 

A roller coaster, life, what a trite analogy

but fitting.

Time to start the next stanza,

next thing on the list,

pass the shovel please.

Performance based culture

It sucks

the life out I mean

Life, life, life

running around and 'round and 'round

the merry goes around

or does it?

Penny-less people

and pockets full of cash

both are alike:

eyes look at the ground

Smiles, smiles

tears,tears

these are a few of my favorite things

minus the tears

except when they help

I'm Rich!

Ok, Picture This:

A large diamond. A wall, forget that, a Truck Load, naw, too small, a 60,000 sq. ft HOUSE full of the latest and greatest in fashion and technology designed by the best in the biz. And that is just the start.

A beautiful wife (or husband), just the beginning. A person who is fully and completely all that you have, do, or could ever hope for in a lifetime mate. I mean, this person has it all. Personality, physical-ity (my own word?), Godly, good mom (or dad), the perfect balance to who you are. Yeah. Cool.

Not enough. Now you have the best children. Not always obedient (cause where is the fun in that?), but definitely the best. They run, jump, swim, and play.

Now, maybe the house isn't your style. Maybe you want quaint, small. Maybe you want to be single for life. Maybe you don't want kids
Whatever life looks like in your dreams, wherever your highest imaginations take you, go there for a moment.
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Come on back.
The point:
The one who has all of that, and just that, is still a pauper compared to a Christian. Guys, Jesus, this Jesus whom we love so much, He is REAL. I mean REAL REAL, like more real than the bed you are sitting on or the chair you are sitting in, more real than school, more real than the disasters and the blessings of this life. He is real, and He is coming back. Now that IS cool. Man, I love Him.

No cause for love

A couple of days ago, I had a revelation, definitely God inspired.

Love does not have a cause.
More specifically, God's love doesn't have a cause.

Think about it. He has always existed as has His nature. Therefore, Love, a part of His nature, is eternal.

Cool. So what? What this means is that I never caused or did anything for Him to to make Him love me, He just does. Wow. And because I didn't do anything to get Him to love me and desire me in the first place, I can't do anything to make Him stop. Cool.
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Walls and Posters and the existence of Something or Someone beyond us.

I'm sure that you have been in a room with a blank wall. I mean totally bare. Not a poster, picture, award, plague, drape, curtain ... you get my point. Just white primer.

Well if you have then there may have been something at the back of your head that asked, "Why isn't there something on this wall?"

At least with me it did. And that led me to this line of questioning:

What is it in us that longs for there to be something to take up that blank space?
Why is it there?
How did it come to be there?
Who or What put it there?
When did it happen?

Why do we desire to create? To design?