The Kanon

This is an old story I wrote on my phone my sophomore year of highschool. It was saved as a draft in my blog post. I’ve decided to share it with you all. This is The Kanon. Inspired by The Canon in D and the 2006 anime Kanon

 

We sat down at our table.

“Do you know what this song is?” Lori asked me while we waited. “No, I don’t think I do.” I said, shrugging it off.

“Hi, I’ll be your waitress for the evening. Can I get you two anything?” A young waitress asked. “Just two glasses of wine. We’ll be ready to order in a few moments.” I told her.

“Anything else?”

“No…well, I’m Tony and this is Lori,” I said gesturing to my date. “May we know your name, perhaps? I wouldn’t want to be rude and call you ‘you’ the entire time we’re here.”

She giggled and said, “My name is Michelle. Will that be all for now?”

“Yes, thank you very much, Michelle.” She walked away and I looked over toward Lori, who was glaring at me.

She rolled her eyes and said, “You are such a flirt.”

I laughed and replied, “Isn’t that the reason we’re on a date now?”

She ignored me and continued on about the song that was playing. “Like I was saying earlier, this song, it’s called The Kanon, with a ‘K.'”

“The Kanon?” I asked. That sounded vaguely familiar to me.

“Here’s your two glasses of wine, and a bottle to serve yourself. On the house,” She winked. “Are you two ready to order?”

“Yes, I am,” Lori said with a hint of sass. “I would like a T-bone steak with a Caesar salad. And for an appetizer, I would like to try the soup special for today.”

“Okay. And you, Tony? What would you like to order.”

“The same, except I would like grilled chicken in place of the steak.”

“Fries as well?” She offered me.

“Yes. For the both of us.” I said directing my eyes toward Lori.

“Will that be all?”

“Uh, one more thing. A beautiful woman like yourself shouldn’t settle for anything less than you deserve.” I said, smiling. She giggled and was off again.

“Now,” I started, turning my attention to Lori. “What’s so special about The Kanon?” I asked, taking a sip of my wine. “It seems somewhat familiar to me.”

“It should.” She told me. “The Kanon is a simple melody that repeats itself A thousand and one times, but becoming more beautiful each time it’s played. I was sure that you heard it somewhere because it’s the musical representation of Eutopia.”

“Your point being?” I asked, a little more bluntly than I intended.

“Imagine if life was like that; A constant state of euphoria that only gets better with each passing moment.”

The waitress arrived and set down our appetizers and said, “Your order will be ready shortly, Tony.”

“Thank you,” I told her as she walked away.

Lori continued by saying, “Imagine if we, as the human race, could reach a state, equal in the pure amount of bliss that is contained within this song.”

“I see where this is going,” I said, sipping my wine again.

“You’re trying to tell me that it’d be better in life if no one had to experience pain and that once our lives become that of repetition, that we should come to enjoy how we spend each hour of our day. But,” I said, sticking my finger into my wine and stirring it around. “You’re only telling me this because of how miserable I’ve been recently, aren’t you?”

She sighed and took a sip of her wine. Then I sighed myself and said, “But you’re right, you know. You’re right about a lot of things. And that’s why, despite the fact that I flirt around a lot, that you’re the only one I truly love.”

“Oh?” She said, raising an eyebrow. “Did you just admit to the fact that you’re a flirt?”

“I suppose I just did, didn’t I?”

“Yes, I suppose you did.” She said, laughing. “Does that mean you’ll stop?” She asked me.

I dipped my finger in my wine again and licked it, just as the waitress arrived who met my eyes as I did so. “Only if I’ll never see this beautiful woman again,” I said to Lori, eyes still locked with Michelle’s. She blushed and then smiled and hurried away to go seat a family who had just arrived. I laughed and looked back at Lori and said, “Besides, I doubt I could stop if I wanted to. It’s in my blood you know.” She took a sip of her wine and said, “I doubt I could go a day longer without kicking your ass. It’s in my blood, you know, and it’s been such a bother not letting my anger out.”

“And I love you as well,” I said, reaching over to lightly caress her face. I saw her entire body shiver, like a drop of rain falling in the endless sea, and heard her whisper, “If only you knew just how much I loved you.”

We began to eat, silent for a few moments. Lori drained her wine so I poured her another glass. By the time she finished that, she was about to pour herself another when I stopped her.

“What?” She snapped.

I shook my finger at her and said, “No more wine for you; not now anyway.” She was about to say something and then she stopped. She returned to silently chewing her steak when I said, “A thousand and one?”

“Huh?” She asked, confused.

“The Kanon. The same melody a thousand and one times, right?”

She nodded and I asked, “Do you think it’s possible to write the Kanon?”

She looked at me like I was crazy. “This isn’t the type of music that you sing to. You of all people should know that.”

“No no no,” I said, finishing my grilled chicken. “What I mean is, do you think we could write a story based on the concept of the song?”

“We?”

“Point being,” I added quickly. “Do you think we can tell the same story, one thousand and one times, and make it better each time?”

She smiled and said, “I’m not sure, could we? And even then, what would we write about?”

I pondered the question as the waitress came over to give me the bill, and also her number. Before she could ask, I said, “I’ll pay in cash.” And then added, “Anything extra is yours.” and winked. When she went away, I slipped $500 under the bill.

Lori stared at me and I said, “Just a little extra in case she wants to buy herself something.” She sighed, defeated, and then I said, “We can write about this.”

“Erm, giving a waitress a lot of money? Tony, are you high?”

“Not as high as you are apparently,” I said, poking her nose. “What I meant was writing about our evening here. We can call it the Dinner under the Kanon.” I joked. She rolled her eyes, and I said, “But seriously, we could write about this.”

“A thousand and one times?”

“Each story different, not necessarily better. Not even in order. It could be about totally different things, in completely different places, but would always involve us and the waitress in some way or another, always beginning with us getting food, even if different. Hell, our first story could be about us getting McDonald’s.” We laughed, and then I said, “We could call it Distortion. It can be a series of short stories. It’ll be like any other series-“

“Except it’ll be short stories and just be shy of a little more over a thousand.” She interjected.

The waitress came over and took our plates and the bill, but before she could leave I stopped her, gave her a small kiss on her hand and said, “Enjoy your life, beautiful. Enjoy it, for you never know what you’ll become or who you’ll inspire. So don’t just strive to be better, strive to be happy.”

Michelle smiled. Blushing, she whispered back, “Thank you so much.” And then went back to work.

“And for our first story, let’s make the waitress a jealous widow,” Lori said, somewhat like an announcer.

“Only if this is the very last story.”

She thought for a moment, and said, “Alright.” and smiled

Just as we were leaving the restaurant, The Kanon began to play from the very beginning once again.

“Genesis,” I said. “The first fragment of The Kanon,” Lori added.

‘Yes, I really do love her.’

“We sat down at the table. ‘Do you know what song this is?’ Lori asked. ‘No, I don’t think I do…'”

 

Katherine

This is a short story of mine that I’m planning on rewriting for small edits. Mainly continuity and setting reasons, but here is the original for you all.

Katherine

She felt for the lock in the dark, terrified of the masked man that she just encountered. “I’ll be seeing you soon. I will kill you…” the words echoed in her mind. After seemingly forever, she managed to get the front door open and she slammed it shut behind her, securing all of the locks. With her back pressed against the door, she let out a sigh of relief. She sat her purse down and switched on the light before heading into the living room.

“Baby I’m home!” She yelled.

Shedding her coat, she sat down on the sofa and reached for the television remote. She noticed a small sticky note stuck to the table and, after turning on the television, read it.

‘I’ll be home late tonight, Katherine. I’m celebrating Chad’s promotion with the guys. Love you, see you soon. -Jason.”

That’s odd. The lady thought to herself. Briefly, the words of the man came back to her.

“Oh I’ll kill your husband too. Sooner than you think, actually…and then you’ll be next.”

She shuddered at the memory and shook the thought out of her head, but she still felt uneasy. Giving into her panic, she grabbed her coat, found her cellphone, and called her husband. He picked up on the third ring.

“Hey babe! What’s up?” He shouted over the music. Relief instantly filled her as she heard her husband’s voice.

“Nothing. I just wanted to hear your voice, that’s all.” She said.

“Hold on a moment….alright. It’s much easier to hear you out here.”

“I said I just wanted to hear your voice baby, that’s all.” She smiled.

“Well I’ll be home soon babe. You’ll get to hear me all night– hey, who are you?”

“Baby?” A thud. “Baby! What’s going on? Can you hear me?”

She heard a scuffle and only caught some of the words being shouted.

“Hey! What the hell is…why are…woah, chill…No!” And then a scream.

“Jason!” She yelled into the phone, and silence followed. “Baby?”

After a few moments, she heard someone pick up the phone.

“Jason is dead darling, and you’re next!” Someone said to her before bursting into a fit of maniacal laughter. “I’ll be seeing you soon.” The killer said before hanging up the phone.

“No…” She whispered in disbelief, dropping her phone onto the ground. “No!”

Terrified, she raced throughout the entire house, checking every single window and making sure each one was locked. With tears in her eyes and her hands trembling, she called 9-1-1 as soon as she felt sure she was safe.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“Help! My h-husband.” She stammered. Suddenly, she heard what sounded like a window breaking upstairs and screamed.

“Ma’am, calm down. Is your husband hurting you?”

“No! H-he’s d-dead! The guy I saw, he killed him.”

“What? Ma’am, I’m sorry but you have to slow down. It’s hard for me to understand you. I know you’re afraid but– hello?”

Katherine dropped the phone and screamed again. Standing in front of her was the man she had seen earlier that night.

“Stay back! I-I-I’ll cut you!” She stammered, slowly backing away into the kitchen, reaching for a knife. She grabbed the biggest one should could find and thrust it forward, stabbing at the air as if it too were dangerous. The mysterious man laughed as he watched her quiver in fear, amused. He glanced down at the phone that the lady had dropped, picked it up, and ended the call before placing it back on the ground. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small pistol.

“Tell you what,” he said, playing carelessly with the gun. “I’ll leave this pistol right here,” he said slowly, placing the gun on the ground in front of him, “and I’ll go hide upstairs.” He slowly backed away from the gun. “The police will probably be here in 15 minutes, but you have 5 minutes to find and kill me. If it takes longer, well…” without warning, the man bolted up the stairs.

The lady dashed for the gun as soon as he was out of sight and picked it up. She held it cautiously, afraid that the mere possession of the weapon will kill her itself.

Still shaking, she slowly headed up the stairs, unsure of what sick additions may be added to the death game she suddenly found herself playing. Once she was at the top of the stairs, she headed straight towards the bathroom and kicked open the slightly ajar door. She pointed the gun in front of her, half expecting the man to shout “boo!” and kill her. When it proved empty, she let out a small sigh of relief, which was short lived as she heard a bump come from her bedroom.

Carefully, she approached her room and opened the door. After a quick glance, she saw that it was empty and that the window in here had been broken. She noticed a bit of blood on the floor before she heard another noise come from her personal bathroom. She gulped, and then she crept towards the door slowly. Once beside it, she pressed her ear to the door and she thought she could hear the faint sound of someone breathing. She slowly twisted the doorknob, careful not to make too much noise, and as she was opening it, a loud alarm rang out from inside the bathroom. She screamed, kicked the door open, and fired nine bullets into whatever appeared even remotely human in the bathroom.

Breath ragged, she let her arms drop and released the gun in her hand. It fell to the ground as she stared in horror at the sight that lay before her. Instead of the mysterious man that she expected to see, there, laying dead, was her husband. Bullet holes lined his body as he lay there motionless, the last bit of his life slowly seeping out of him and onto the floor. Mortified, she dropped to her knees and screamed.

“Jason! Why! Why! Wh-” She suddenly felt a hand over her mouth and something warm in her chest. Her eyes began to get hazy as she looked down, only to discover a blade protruding from her body. The man had tricked her into killing her husband and was now killing her.

He whispered into her ear, “A life for a life,” and proceeded to remove the blade from her body. The man stepped in front of her, and her eyes widened in horror as he removed his face mask and she saw who he was.

“I’ll see you in hell, Katherine.” the man said as he took out another pistol.

And he promptly put a bullet in his head.

Breakdown

Breakdown*

As soon as she walked in, she felt the tension in the air. Her parents always argued, but there was something different about today.

“Mom! Dad! I’m home!” She closed the front door and went straight to her room. She let her bookbag drop onto the ground, took off her bra, and headed towards the kitchen. “Hey mom. How was your day?” She asked as soon as she entered the kitchen. Her mother stood at the sink, the water running.

“It was fine. How was school, Katy?”

Katy grabbed a red apple and took a bite into it before she began to talk about how her english teacher gave her class a pop quiz, but her friend who had the class a period before her warned her. “…So I think I did pretty good, thanks to Amanda. Hey dad.” Katy said as her father walked into the room.

“Hi.” he mumbled before opening the fridge.

“Oh come on, she’s your daughter!” her mother suddenly shouted. Katy saw her lift her hands to her face before finally turning off the water. She turned around to face her husband, her eyes puffy, evidence that she had been crying.

“Goddammit, stop reading into every motherfucking thing that I say or do!” he shouted, slamming the fridge shut. Katy could feel her body start to tense up, fearful of the yelling. She didn’t leave though. Her parents always yelled at each other, and it was nothing new.

“Well shit, you just said you were going to leave us for crying out loud. What, did you think I’d just let you leave and we weren’t going to talk about it? You thought you were just going to leave Katy and I by ourselves in the middle of the night?” Katy’s mom folded her arms.

“No, Dammit! Stop trying to use her against me, Angela. You can’t make me stay here. I’m tired of you. I’m not the bad guy here. I’m tired of you hurting me!”

Katy sat at the island, confused. She could feel tears start to well up inside of her eyes. Suddenly, her mother started crying and reached behind her back.

“Nick…I love you. This is what I’ve always wanted. You, me, Katy. Us living in a nice house together, happy. It would hurt me if you left us all alone to fend for ourselves. If you left Nick, you’d take away all of our happiness.” Angela started to slowly approach Nick. “So instead of letting you leave us, I’ll keep the memory of you alive you son of a bitch!”

Angela lunged at her husband, slashing at him with the knife she produced from behind her back. Katy shrieked and fell out of her chair and landed hard on the ground. She stayed there, cowering in fear.

“Stop you psycho bitch!” Nick screamed as his wife slashed at him.

“Mom, please! Stop this!” Katy shouted in desperation.

Angela stopped. Then she kicked Nick in the groin, pushed him onto the ground, and began stabbing at his head and chest, screaming in between each and every single stab.

“This! Is! For! Never! Loving! Me! Like! You! Said! You! Would!” Heart pumping, Angela stabbed him one last time before leaving the knife buried inside of his neck. Blood was everywhere. The floor beneath her was covered in a thin layer of blood, the wooden cabinets stained red, blood staining the bottom of the fridge. Katy’s father lay dead, twelve stab wounds covering his body. Three in the face, seven in the chest, and two in the neck. There were at least twice as many cuts lining his body. Bloodied, Angela got up and walked toward her daughter. Petrified with fear, her daughter sat there on the ground and watched her mother approach her. She could see in her eyes that her mother was broken. Something deep inside of her had snapped, and there was no turning back.

Angela opened her arms and embraced Katy.

“It’s all going to be okay now. It’s all going to be okay.”

Katy sat there, unable to move. She listened to her mom say the same thing over and over again. “It’s all going to be okay.” Angela repeated it over and over again.

Even when she put her hands to her daughter’s throat. Even when Katy begged her to stop. Even as her daughter choked out that she hopes she rots in hell, Angela still said it. Even though Katy’s lifeless body sat before her and her husband lay dead only a few feet away from her, she kept saying it, “It’s all going to be okay.”

When the police finally arrived an hour and a half later, they found her there, still chanting the same phrase over and over again.

*All stories are my own unless otherwise stated.

Short Stories

I am a writer first and foremost, and I like to write poetry and short stories. I have a tumblr blog where most of my poetry is posted up, but I don’t really post my short stories anywhere. I write about any and everything, and sometimes my writing develops the characteristics of a story. I’ll start posting my short stories online Sundays at 6pm central timezone.* This means that I’ll have to write a new short story for you guys every week. I have a few that I am going to share with you all, but that list will be exhausted soon. Feel free to comment, like, and share my writing. I greatly appreciate it, and if you like my writing, your friends and family will too.

Until tomorrow, or next time, whichever comes first.

*If it doesn’t post at noon, then expect for it to come sometime shortly after. I once scheduled a post and it posted 7 minutes after the scueduled time.