The blood was flowing.
The bones were breaking.
The screams were echoing.
The people were dying.
The guilt was building.
The war continued.
Night guard at a museum. What a ridiculous job. What kind of species do we belong to when you need a guard for a place of learning. A FREE place of learning, at that. Who steals from a place you can get into for free?
(more) I walked along the same route the tour used in the day. Walking though aisles of dead animals, of imitations, of bones. My footsteps like the clicking of a metronome. It makes every shift feel excruciatingly long, even when you're constantly faced with the insignificance of your life compared to a geological timescale.
What would people even steal from here, anyway? I don't think there's a black market for taxidermied animals. Or was it vandalizing they were worried about? Some asshole sneaking in here, and gluing his ex-girlfriend's face onto the giant whale in the aquatic exhibit? There are a lot of assholes, aren't there? Too many. How did we even last this long?
I'd ended up in the human history exhibit. Appropriate. So many dead people. So many assholes. Down at the end of the exhibit, something was moving. Hip hip hooray, I can get my answers as to why, straight from the asshole's mouth. I pulled out my taser. I inched down along the way, looking for the movement. Maybe I'd imagined it? It was coming from the human ancestor's exhibit. Who would break into there?
Then from behind me came a clattering, and as I turned, a broken bone impaled my torso. I followed it up, expecting a hand, a sleeve, but only seeing more bone. A skeleton stood over me, misshapen and disproportionate.
"It should have been us," the Neanderthal said.
I realized I agreed as I slowly bled out, taser crackling uselessly against bone. But still, what an asshole.(less)
"Just one hand in front of another" I told myself, as I scaled the 120 foot cliff.
I was almost to the top. This had been my goal for the past few months, ever since I had graduated from high school. I was with a couple of my buddies(more); Andy and Steve, and for some reason we figured we wouldn't actually graduate until this mission was complete.
Currently Andy was belaying me from below, and Steve was providing the moral support. By my estimation, I had about 20 feet until the top. Until I reached my goal.
I jumped up for a daring handhold, giving up both footholds, and held on tight. Instead of staying on the rock, however, the rock stayed on me. The bad limestone crumbled in my hand, and I found myself plunging back. I fell maybe ten feet. Andy managed to wrap his hands around the rope and try to catch me. That rope snapped clean in two.
I found myself free-falling, with no stop. My first thought was that I was flying. Then the ground came up from beneath me and shattered the illusion. I tumbled and crashed, my skin ripping off of my body and my bones cracking underneath me. 200 feet later I came to a dead stop in a crevice, barely alive, and barely conscious.
It took them 6 hours for 911 to reach us, and another 6 hours for them to get me out of the crevice. By the time they got me to the hospital, I was unconscious. I stayed there for a month.
The fall I took was estimated at 300 feet. I broke my back and head in four places each, as well as 7 other bones. I am lucky to be alive.
Harrison panted as he heaped off the last shovel of dirt over his head. The dirt joined the large pile next to a gaping hole in the ground. Harrison threw the shovel out of the hole he was standing in and he gazed at what he had just uncovered.(more) There at the bottom was a dirt covered assortment of bones.
Harrison pulled out a pair of latex gloves from his backpack and slipped them on. He opened his backpack all the way to reveal a re-sealable plastic bag. Carefully he picked up the closest bone -- a femur, brushed the dirt off and placed it inside the bag. He repeated the process with the rest until the bottom of the hole was clear and his bag was full of bone. He sealed the plastic bag and zipped up his backpack.
In one quick movement Harrison grabbed the edge of the hole and pulled himself up. He grabbed the shovel and heaved the dirt he had worked so hard to retrieve, back into the hole. After that was finished he brushed the lumpy ground over to match the surrounding earth. Harrison pulled a few leaves off some trees and scattered them over the now-filled-in hole.
Harrison grabbed his bicycle leaning next to the tree and haphazardly biked along with one hand, the other barely holding onto the large shovel. He made it home and dumped his bike into the unlocked garage. Harrison went round the back of the house and took the edges of the window and puled it open. Taking his backpack off first and placing it inside his bedroom he then squeezed through the gap.
Harrison unzipped his backpack and laid the bag out the on the table. It was time he investigate the truth behind his missing cat.(less)
Broken bones are so much worse than we think.
Sure, they hurt. Sure, they suck because you can't play soccer/basketball/whatever for, like, two or three weeks.
But they also mean that we aren't invincible.
We can be taken down.
(more) Humans are at the top of every food chain in the world, the ultimate apex predator, demigods inches away from immortality. We are tall, strong, smart; reasoning creatures that can save the world or destroy it without a thought.
But we are weak, too. Our emotions can be crushed, stepped on, ground into nothingness. Delusions of happiness can be revealed to be illusions.
Our very bones, the support structure that holds the intricate framework of our humanity together, can shatter. Our bones can be broken. We can be crushed at every level--emotionally, mentally, physically.
We heal. Doctors line our bones back up. They heal stronger than they were before. Yes, broken bones aren't all that bad.
Except for that split second when something snaps and we fall to the ground, vulnerable, that split second of human weakness.(less)
Broken bones. Ever since childhood, they have been the worst injury, an ultimatum to the playground stature of scratches and bruises. I'd gotten close before. Jumping the corner of a pool, my foot slipped. I crunched, eagle spread, into the ceramic corner of the pool. Couldn't walk for three(more) days. But somehow, I have yet to break a bone. It's weird, I know.
Trust me, I've tried too. I'm only 17, but I've already pulled some pretty ridiculous stunts. Maybe almost died once or twice. Hopefully life continues at this pace. (7) viva la r/trees!(less)