Be Careful What You Wish For

What do you call a fic that's not a fic

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Obbl
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Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by Obbl »

So, TheBlackCatEyes made me write a fanfic. :roll: So here we go. I'll keep it PG/PG-13, but I make no promises on keeping a schedule; though I'll try at least weekly. Let me know what you think.

-----
Part 1: Mark vs Zac

It was a bright and beautiful day of sun, breeze, and the warm touches of spring. Already the flowers were springing up to greet the world, shaking off the cold of the snow so recently past. And it was Saturday! There could not be a more perfect day than this. Naturally, everyone was taking advantage of nature’s gift and in Babylon Gardens, that meant a sea of pets had rushed to the park with a chorus of happy cheers and barks – the cats, of course, opting to simply lay out in some warm spot or another. The park was also a natural attraction for the people of Babylon Gardens, and most everyone was there with their pets.

Then there was Mark.
He sat at the computer entertaining himself while everyone else was out playing and enjoying the day. His parents had taken their dog Zac to the park to meet with his friends while they chatted with theirs.
“More like, he took them,” Mark thought with a sardonic smirk. The black lab was four years old and full of boundless energy. He probably dragged them all the way there.

Not that it concerned Mark either way. He just thought the image was amusing. Especially considering how much they doted on the pup. Zac got everything he wanted, and Mark was just stuck with whatever his parents had time to give him. It was just frustrating to even think about what all that dog got away with.

When his mom and dad had first told him they were getting a dog, he’d been excited. A few of his schoolmates had pets, and they said it was like having a best friend at home. This was especially great for him, since there weren’t many kids in Babylon Gardens, and he didn’t get to go over to his friends’ houses as often as he would like. Thus, he began earnestly planning and eagerly waiting for the day when his new best friend would come home to live.

Then, one day, Mark had come home from school to find his parents holding an adorable ball of fur. “And here’s your big brother!”
Both Mark and Zac looked at each other curiously before the little pup exclaimed, “Maaaaaaak!”
The little eight month old was exuberant even in his mispronunciation, and his parents seemed happy to no end, “That’s right! That’s Mark! Honey, say hi to Zac!”
Mark had been just a bit miffed that he wasn’t part of the selection process. He’d had it all planned out and everything. But it was done, and the results were pretty adorable, so he smiled and went with it. “Hey, Zac!”

It wasn’t long before the smile disappeared.

“No, honey, you can’t play with Zac. He’s napping.”
Well, that was ok. If he couldn’t play with Zac he’d just find something else to do. Though he had been hoping for a friend like his schoolmates had talked about.

“Honey, let Zac watch the TV for a little bit.”
Ooook, that was a bit more bothersome, since Zac liked baby shows, and he was in the middle of his favorite show. But, he’d argued this before and it never seemed to work.

“Sweety, I know you wanted to have Brian over, but Zac needs to sleep. Maybe some other time.”
Wait, seriously? Wasn’t it bad enough that he couldn’t play with Zac? Now he couldn’t even have friends he could play with over?

“Mark, don’t hit Zac!”
He’d done it again, “But he started it!”
His mom grabbed his arm and pulled him away, “Come here! Mark, you have to be the big brother and not lash out even when Zac gets on your nerves.”
Mark hated this argument. It sounded all sweet, but really it was just an excuse for Zac’s behavior.
“Why can’t you ever punish him for annoying me?! He always does this on purpose, and I stay calm for, like, forever before I finally blow!”

The dog was fast becoming the worst thing he had ever had to deal with in his life. Always doing those little things that he knew would grate on Mark’s nerves. Like he was daring him to hit him so he could get him in trouble. Again. And the parents just let it happen, over and over and over.

Zac grew quickly, and their parents seemed to hang on his every word. They played with him and hugged him and praised him whenever he accomplished anything no matter how insignificant. Zac’s friends ran rampant through the house all the time, and they loved bothering the stew out of Mark. Their laughter was loud and obnoxious and it never stopped. He found solace in the computer more and more as a means of escaping to a world where Zac was not. Where his parents were not. Let them have their dumb dog. They certainly loved him more than their own son. In fact, his parents gave that dog more love and attention in one day than he had gotten in his entire life.

Yet, deep down, Mark secretly wished he was the dog. Dogs got to do whatever they wanted. They didn’t have to go to school, didn’t have to do chores, nothing. They got to play all day and get their ears scratched by parents who loved them. They never had to worry about anything, their parents took care of them. Even thinking about the future: eventually he’d have to move out, get a job, buy a house, and take care of himself. Zac? Zac would get to stay in the comfort of his home forever and never have to bother with the hard stuff. Mark couldn’t stand thinking about it.

Just for spite, he typed it into a blank word document:
I wish I was a dog.

He paused. Then he took his pointer finger and with a flourish pressed the backspace key. The words were quickly zipped away. He sighed and glanced at the clock. He’d been on the computer all day. By now it was four in the afternoon. His parents would be home soon with Zac – unless he was staying the night at a friend’s house – and they’d eat dinner. Then he’d be on the computer until bedtime; and then he’d sneak back to the computer room after everyone was asleep. Being thirteen had its advantages, like being able to stay up all night without getting tired.

Still, as he ate dinner with his parents and no Zac, he wondered what life was supposed to be like. Wasn’t he supposed to grow up with lots of love and happiness? Here he was with his two parents and no dog, just the way things had been, but everything felt different. It felt like, somehow, they didn’t care as much. Like their love had been divided between him and the dog, and the mutt won out. He didn’t think he loved them any less, and he was fairly certain it was true the other way around. So why did it feel like he’d become the outsider? “Honey, eat your peas.”

He went to bed – not to sleep, just lying there until he was sure the parents were asleep – and he wondered what he was supposed to even do. He couldn’t make his parents love him any extra, but he didn’t want to live, like, five more years until he could move out with his life the way it was. He felt so trapped, and it wasn’t even his fault. Why couldn’t they see he wanted them to love him? Why couldn’t they see what Zac was doing to his life? He was struggling to find a place to fit in, but Zac was always there fitting in perfectly. If he were a dog, maybe he would fit in that easy too. Was that the secret? Dogs just got more love? And what about Zac? All he’d wanted was someone to be a friend, and he’d gotten an enemy. Why couldn’t Zac stop taking all the attention? Didn’t he see what he was doing? But why should he care? Everyone loved him no matter what he did. Dogs had it easy. He felt jealous, and he hated that he felt jealous. And with all his contemplation and frustration he suddenly forgot to stay awake.
Last edited by Obbl on Fri Jul 01, 2011 6:44 pm, edited 4 times in total.
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by theblackcateyes »

very good start!!!!Poor Mark!!! I'm like him..

I like it , thank god i say to you "DO IT" because is a good good start

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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by kurowolfe »

Love your work, Obbl! And I really like the fact that you told the story from Mark's point of view, being a child in a neighbourhood designed for pets sure is tough.

Looking forward for your next update, doesn't matter when it will be! =3
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by Rollofthedice »

Hey, pretty well done!

I have some very, very minor criticisms, though. It'd be great if you put line breaks between the paragraphs with spoken words, just to ease reading.

Also, these two sentences -
Obbl wrote:Just for spite, he typed it into a blank word document.
I wish I was a dog.
Would be better if the first period had a colon, or if the second sentence was italicized, to avoid sounding stilted.

Other than that, I don't have any complaints. Keep up the good work!
Last edited by Rollofthedice on Thu Jun 30, 2011 12:33 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by Blue Braixen »

Well, Obbl, you certainly can write. Keep up the awesome work, and I can't wait to see where this goes!
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by Daggy »

Imagine my surprise when you have a character that feels ignored and spends most of his time on the computer that just so happens to also have my name. Amusing.

Good start!
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by Obbl »

Thank you for the the compliments! :D
And thank you, RolloftheDice, for the critique. I think the new format is a bit easier to navigate with ;)

@Daggy :shock: Well, I knew Mark was the perfect name for such a kid as this, but Wow! :lol:
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by Karl »

Dear Obbl, you have no idea how long I was waiting to see your new work on the list :)

It reminds me when my older brother was still living with us. When I was born, he was really happy to have a younger bro. But later, he felt that my parents were giving me more attention to me and he started to treat me as a rival.

This fic begins really interesting. It hooked my attention and I really want to know what will happen in next update. I guess Mark will learn that some things don't look so wonderful as he thinks.
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by Kondog »

Great Story Obbl! your a great writer! and this was very enjoyable to read very very good start I can't wait to see where you take this.
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by copper »

This was a great start to what I am sure will be a truly epic fanfic, Obbl. I can't wait until the next part.
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by Obbl »

OK, so I'm like 3 hours early, but it's done and I hate waiting. So enjoy!

-----
Part 2: Mark vs the Voice

There was some sort of grassy knoll in the middle of a green meadow. Apparently it was a clearing in a forest, since the meadow itself was ringed with trees and thick vegetation. It was calm here. A light wind gently rustled the grass in small waves, and the trees could be heard in the distance waving lazily in the breeze. There were just enough clouds in the bright, blue sky to make it a quaint picture, but not disturb the wondrous warmth of the sun from heating the earth and one young child perfectly.

He had never been to such a beautiful and peaceful spot. All it needed was a gentle river to… Oh? Mark stood and turned around. There it was. The gentle flow of water quietly rippled and splashed over rocks and down to the tree line. The sound was soothing and seemed to complete the area. He thought to wonder where he was, but didn’t feel any pressing need to dwell on such things. He instinctively knew that he would find out eventually, and didn’t want to ruin the peace with any possible worry.

Closing his eyes, the boy breathed in the warm scents of grass and water and sun. He let out a little laugh and closed his eyes, just listening to the sounds of the world as they played out a light symphony. Then he opened his eyes and sighed at the glory of it all, the wonder.

As he sat down again, the wind picked up slightly. He smiled. Answers were coming.
Any minute now he would hear a voice.

“Welcome, Mark.”

There it was. The voice rumbled lightly, fatherly almost; deep, but not too deep as to be disconcerting. He liked it. It reminded him of happier times.
He thought to ask where he was and what was going on, but the voice began again, “You are here to find answers for the questions which you most want answered: the ones for which you most fear the answer.”

Ahh, a mysterious and riddle-like answer. Intriguing, but not what he was looking for. He wanted to ask for clarification, but thought better of it. The voice seemed to want him to puzzle out its meaning himself.

He sighed and began thinking, “The questions I most want answered are the ones about what to do about Zac. But what about the ones I most fear the answer of?”
He pondered this a moment, brow furrowed, lips pursed. He closed his eyes to think better, but nothing seemed to help. For which questions did he fear the answer? How would he even know if he feared the answer unless he already knew it? And then, how come he still wanted the answer if he already had it?

Wait! “The questions I most want answers to are the ones I most fear the answer of!” He proudly smiled, knowing he had indeed solved the riddle. Then he thought about what he had just said.
“Wait, what?”

“One of life’s great mysteries,” continued the voice as the sky slowly darkened, “is how we allow ourselves to be both the deceiver and the deceived. We hide the truth from ourselves because we fear its implications.”

Mark thought this new idea over for a bit until he had made sense of it. Now the real question was…

“The truth you hide is as complex as it is well-hidden. One cannot simply expect to find what has been buried for so long with a single question.”

Again he pondered as a chill wind began to blow. But then why…

“You believe that being a dog would solve your problems?”

Mark felt his heart seize for a second as the breath caught in his throat, thunder rumbling loudly nearby. Then he said, as calmly as he could, “No, why would I think that?”

There was no response, and Mark got the distinct feeling that, despite lacking a face, the voice was giving him a knowing smile. The trees were dancing in the wind, and it whipped around him too, blowing his hair in his face.

He pushed the stray hair out of the way and tried another approach, “Well, I mean, Zac’s life is perfect compared to mine! It’s the only logical conclusion, right?”

The voice continued as if the importance of Mark’s response was not in what he had said, but rather that he had said it, accepting the truth of what he believed.

“You wish to be a dog?”

Mark paused. He was listening to the ominous sounds of the drawing storm, wondering. Here he’d been thinking about this for a while, but now, when faced with the direct question, he wasn’t sure how to respond. He pondered this a moment, then thought of something else that might could sway his answer.

“Is this a dream?”

The voice smiled wide in its own faceless way, “Does it matter?”

Lightning flashed behind the tree line and the thunder shook through him. Of course it mattered! If this was a dream, it didn’t really matter what he said; it wouldn’t affect anything. He screwed up his face and was about to rage at the voice when it occurred to him that, in its own way, it didn’t matter whether or not this was a dream. He suddenly realized, the answer was the same: “Yes.”

He spoke with confidence belying his uncertainty. As much as he knew that he had given his honest answer, there was a caution whispering in his head.
Why should he be careful? He couldn’t fathom it. It made no sense. He wanted this. To find what he was missing. What Zac had.

“Yes?” the voice questioned ever so tauntingly, mocking his answer: one with no substance, easy to say without thought however confidently spoken. Mark knew it was smiling its biggest smile ever as it waited to hear a certain few words; and he thought back to the computer screen. Another lightning bolt lit up the sky and the foreboding wind whipped across the meadow.

There was a pregnant pause. He knew what words the voice wanted to hear. Yet he hesitated. It felt like there was a weight to these words. He had to say them, but he didn’t know if he even had the strength to think them.
With his hesitation the wind lulled slightly as if imitating the gap in the conversation.

“Oh? After all this you do not know what your answer is?”
There was an unmistakable laugh in this voice as the gale picked up again. Mark didn’t like being talked down to like that. Especially not be someone who only thought they knew him.

As the thunder crashed around him, he knew what his answer was. He straightened his stance and squared his shoulders. There was no need to hesitate. He’d show that voice what he thought.

In a loud and strong voice he answered, “I wish I was a dog!

Lightning struck the very meadow he was standing in, blanking out the world in a sea of white. The thunder crashed at the same moment, deafening Mark with its roar. But he was certain he barely heard laughter over the clamor as the world faded to an inky black.
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by Rollofthedice »

Well, I just took a quick skim (I do that a lot), and it's pretty good! There's not really any grammer errors that I can see right off the bat, and you certainly certainly know how to end a chapter! :lol:

My one piece of advice would be to try not to start sentences with 'and' or 'but,' unless you're using it in dialogue. That way, narrative sounds just a bit less stilted.

Great job!

EDIT: I forgot I posted here a chapter back.

How about that.
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by Obbl »

Rollofthedice wrote:My one piece of advice would be to try not to start sentences with 'and' or 'but,' unless you're using it in dialogue. That way, narrative sounds just a bit less stilted.
I actually do that on purpose when I feel the conjunction is strong enough, or when I want to end the previous sentence with a full stop but the conjunction is necessary.
Also I mostly have used it during parts of narrative that are more a direct relation of Mark's thoughts, though I suppose the last one could use a semicolon.
Edit: Mmmmmmmmmm, I kinda like it the way it is. I really don't have huge problems with sentences that start with 'but'. Sorry :P

Thanks for the compliment and the critique! :D
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by copper »

Nice update. Way to end it! Lightning causing a white out...

I wonder how the little guy will react to his new self?

Great job, Obbl. This is great!
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by KizerZin »

HA HA Haaaa! just lovlly~ nothing good ever came of wishing,anything giving has no worth.

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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by Daggy »

Oh my goodness. This was fantastic. Really good job.
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by Rollofthedice »

Obbl wrote:I actually do that on purpose when I feel the conjunction is strong enough, or when I want to end the previous sentence with a full stop but the conjunction is necessary.
Also I mostly have used it during parts of narrative that are more a direct relation of Mark's thoughts, though I suppose the last one could use a semicolon.
Edit: Mmmmmmmmmm, I kinda like it the way it is. I really don't have huge problems with sentences that start with 'but'. Sorry :P

Thanks for the compliment and the critique! :D
Hey, fair enough. My 'critiques' are more like opinions anyway.

Looking forward to more, regardless.
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by Karl »

The way how you described the environment... I felt like I was there too. When it was sunny and wind was nice, I was also touching the grass and listening to nearby river with Mark. But when it began to storm, I felt anxienty and fear because of Mark's suddenly changed behavior.
Well done :) You really have a talent.
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by Obbl »

And now we return to our regularly scheduled fanfic. Here's Mark:

---
Part 3: Mark vs the Storm

He awoke to the sound of thunder grumbling in the distance. It was still way early in the morning judging by the lack of light. Slowly, Mark drifted up and into wakefulness, blinking in the dark as he tried to remember… something that seemed important.

Then he remembered his plans for the computer that night. “Oh whoops,” he thought, “I fell asleep.”
He sighed; but then, of course, since the parents would definitely not be awake, he figured he might as well get going. There were probably still a few hours before morning, and he could hit up a few of his usual sites to while away the early hours.

Mark pushed himself tiredly up into a sitting position, hearing the gentle squeak of the mattress springs. Then he glanced to where his clock was. The LED lights should have pierced the darkness and quickly informed him what time of night it was, but he saw nothing. In fact, it was entirely too dark even for nighttime.

“Ohh, the power must be out,” he muttered to himself.
The negative implications of a power outage on his plans for the night soon hit, and he lay back down in a huff, “Great.”

He shivered a bit with the cold and rolled his eyes, pulling the sheet closer to himself. For some bizarre reason his dad always kept the air conditioner at freezing cold during the winter and blazing hot during the summer. He said it was to save on bills, but Mark always wondered why they even bothered having an air conditioner if they weren’t even going to use it properly.

Another rumble of thunder sounded out, closer this time. The wind was picking up and whistling a bit as it went. He knew the storm was nearby. He could even smell the storm on the air. “Wait. What?”

Did he leave a window open or something? He sat up again and looked around, but it was still pitch black. His eyes were adjusting to the dark a bit, but he wasn’t sure he could make anything out in the gloom.

A drop of water hit his head, and startled him. He looked up. Did they have a leak? But the more the rain started falling, the more drops were landing on him. Something was up. He looked about in the darkness trying to figure out what it was obscuring. He was focusing on some large something that he could almost make out. Then the lightning flashed nearby and he felt a cold dread wash over him.

This was not his house.
This was not anyone’s house.

In that brief flash of light he had seen piles upon piles of stuff as far as the eye could see. The first thing that came to mind was, “A junkyard?”

There was a brief cosmic pause as the universe gave the shocked young child a moment to consider this. Then it began to pour. Mark was cold and soaking wet and miserable in seconds. But most of all, he was in full panic mode with no clue what was going on. He sat still for a bit while his brain decided that he was indeed awake. More dread followed, and with it came fear. Slowly, he pulled the sheet closer to him as if seeking comfort before realizing that it wasn’t going to do him any good. He sat up straight, suddenly coming to the conclusion that he needed to act. He needed shelter, and he needed it fast.

Quickly he turned to hop off the bed and found the ground about half a foot below him. He’d been sleeping on some random mattress with some random sheet out in the middle of a junkyard for who knows how long. This was a startling thought for him despite having been somewhat aware of it for some time already.

He stood up and paused for a bit, looking into the dark with fear clutching his heart, holding his legs still; but desperation moved them in time and he made his way through the maze of junk piles. His eyes darted about as they slowly adjusted to the night, and the lightning allowed short periods of far sight. He knew he needed something to get underneath, but he also knew he couldn’t see details very well except when the lightning flashed.

To make matters worse, he was finding it hard to concentrate. Not only was he fearful of every dark nook and cranny in that unfamiliar setting, but he noticed the whole place smelled, not bad per se, just strongly. He kept having to think past the incoming smells to concentrate on searching for shelter. In fact, it was a wonder he hadn’t noticed it back when he thought he was in his house.

He paused for a second as the homesickness from that thought hit in a wave ending in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t know where he was, but he did know where he wanted to be. He felt a tingle in the corners of his eyes as tears began to well up.

“I hate this.” He breathed out the words in his anguish, unable even to vocalize. For a moment he stood there bent over with his hands on his knees, breathing heavily, while the majority of the wave passed. Then he shook his head and sniffled once to clear his sinuses.
“Woah,” he said putting a hand to his head, “too much smell,” and shook his head again to clear the way for thought.

Mark looked around at the piles of junk and the paths that ran around and between them, trying to decide what to do. His stomach turned in horrible knots as he gazed out at the terrible surroundings. Every dark pile seemed to hide the terrors only night could produce, and he wasn’t even sure what he was looking for.

“What’s good for shelter in a junkyard?” he asked quietly to himself.
It wasn’t like he’d ever been to one before; but the rain was coming down hard, and he felt himself shivering. If he didn’t find someplace dry soon, he knew he could get very sick. Wrapping his arms around himself for warmth, tears threatening once more, he began to think about what might be in junkyards that was big enough to hide under.

Then he stopped. Something felt off. He knew his clothes had been clinging to him from the rain; but when his hands and arms came in contact with his shirt, it felt odd. His brow furrowed in puzzlement. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was aware that he needed to think about shelter, but this felt like…

The boy glanced down at himself and his eyes widened. His skin was entirely too dark to be his. It was jet black, and darker still.

He froze; then slowly pulled his arms apart. Holding his hands out in front of him, Mark stared intently as if they might suddenly fall off or spontaneously combust.

Suddenly lightning flashed and thunder cracked once again, and he jumped: he’d been so concentrated on his new bizarrely colored appendages, it had startled him.

However, it was what he saw in the flash that made him miss his landing and fall in the mud.
He’d lived with Zac for over three years and knew exactly what those were.

“Paws?” he barely whispered.

He sat in the mud, stock still, eyes wide and staring into the distance, as the notion swirled in his head. This couldn’t be real. He was a human, not a dog. He pulled his hands up to his face again.

Now that he knew what to look for, he could make out the paw pads that shouldn’t have been there. He pushed himself up and looked down at himself, feeling everywhere. His breathing picked up the pace as a new sense of panic washed over him. What was going on?

A pot or something fell from a distant pile causing his ears to swivel in that direction. He immediately grabbed them when he felt the odd, pulling sensation. They stood tall and pointy. But feeling his hands as they touched ears that were high above his head gave him a strong sense of discontinuity within himself. The surreal circumstances were beginning to calm him down even as the weirdness level rose.

Then he traced down to his long nose. His paws ran over his whiskers, and he jerked back quickly. He hadn’t been prepared for the whiskers. He’d forgotten about them. More strangely was feeling the wind rush past them. It pulled them ever so slightly, and the sensation of feeling from what should have been three inches in front of his face made him touch the end of his nose – or… muzzle – to double check that it was really there.

It seemed counterintuitive that Mark should feel less panicked the more he found himself to be like a dog; but he was finding an odd sort of curiosity that overcame the natural sense of uncertainty. He was like a child with a new toy. Except the toy was himself.

As a final gesture of inquisitiveness, he reached backward to find his tail. At first he didn’t know where it was and began to despair not having a tail at all; but then he thought of something. He tried thinking of where his tail should be and then tried to move it. He wiggled his rear for a few moments before trying higher. After a few concentrated attempts ending in the movement of the more familiar muscles of his posterior, he found the muscles at the base of the spine, and his new appendage wagged lightly.

This was just about the weirdest thing he’d ever felt.

He grabbed the sopping wet tail in his hands – “Paws,” he corrected himself – and felt how it curved up to his back. Even though he had just experienced this sensation with his ears and his snout, it was still rather bizarre to not only feel the tail with his… paws, but to feel his paws with his tail.

Then the cruel wind reminded him of his current plight. More important than his new dogness, was his need to find shelter. He shivered again. The rain had soaked him through, and the wind felt icy cold. His soaked fur was doing virtually nothing to keep in the warmth.

He took a deep breath to focus and once again reeled with the power of the scents.
“Oh, that’s why it’s so strong,” he muttered to himself.
The new dog made a pointed effort to ignore the incoming smells so he could focus on the task at hand – or paw. He smirked.

He glanced about again amazed that he could see as far as he could, until he remembered hearing that dogs see better at night than humans. Was this how Zac always saw?
“Lucky.”
He realized he could see specific items in the pile of junk directly next to him, and he could distinguish the piles from each other at great distances. Even for piles that would normally have blended together to a human’s eyes, he found himself able to discern the gap between them.

Then Mark realized that he had lost himself in his reverie. He shook his head again and pushed forward into the wind and rain, with the thunder crashing around him, looking as hard as he could for any means of shelter.

Around the next bend he saw something large and hulking.

It was one of those old-style Volkswagen beetles. The car had seen better days. All of its wheels were missing, along with one of the side mirrors and, oddly enough, the trunk door.

He approached with slight trepidation fueled by his thirteen-year-old fears of big, scary things and the more realistic fear of what they might hide, but his survival instincts kept pushing him forward.

Upon closer inspection, he noticed that the windshield was missing and the front seats were soaked through. The musty smell made him cringe and wish his new nose wasn’t so powerful. He was happy to note that the two front doors were gone, making it easier to climb in, but even more exciting was his discovery that the rear of the car was mostly intact – minus a seatbelt – and it was dry.

Mark smiled wearily as he climbed into the back before realizing how absolutely drenched he was. He got back in the front and, envisioning Zac, shook himself off. It took a couple tries to get the technique down, but eventually his fur was sufficiently dry, and he moved into the back seats grinning lazily as his eyes drooped. It was still cold from the night air and the stormy gale, but he found that the floor was mostly out of the wind. He curled himself snugly into a ball, marveling at the flexibility of a dog’s spine. His exhausted body did the rest.
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KizerZin
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by KizerZin »

Welcome to the first day... of the rest of your life~ if this is a true beginning the only question is where will it end? HA HA Haaaa!
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kurowolfe
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by kurowolfe »

I really like how you describe the surroundings, Obbl. Detailed and vivid!

And, Mark is definitely enjoying his new body, despite his circumstances. I have to agree with KizerZin though, Mark's already off to quite a bad start, so I wonder how his new life is going to unfold.

Now I wait again...
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Karl
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by Karl »

I know it's just the beginning, but I can feel his journey won't be too pleasant.

I wonder what he will do when the storm will pass away and he will wake up. He's not in his home after all, so not everything will be... easy it seems ;)

You really know how to make the tension grow, Obbl :)
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copper
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by copper »

Great update! Can't wait for the next one!

This is getting good. He will soon see just what his wish truly means...
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Obbl
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by Obbl »

I have been fighting with a severe case if writer's block on this chapter for the past 2 weeks. :evil: I am making headway, but it is in no way finished. I will try to post the finished chapter before next week's update time, and if the water ways open, I may be able to get myself back on schedule. :D
Thank you for your patience.
~Obbl
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Karl
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by Karl »

I know how it feels. You try your best to ignite your brain, but it's still like it was frozen. I recently deal with blocks too, so I know how it feels.
It's ok, Obbl :) I'm sure the moment when you will break through the block will finally come.
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Maximus Rex
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by Maximus Rex »

I really must say that this is a really well written story.

I don't want to sound like a broken record by pointing out how well you set up atmosphere. I would also like to mention that I like the whole "kids and pets" issue you brought up in this story. It makes for a cool concept that I never really thought about until I read this. XD

Tough luck with writers block, it is a story killer. XD I heard that one of the best cures for it is to do something strange or unexpected that even you wouldn't do and see if you like the direction the story takes. It worked for Stephen King. =3

Anyways, before I ramble on further, great story and can't wait to see more. :D
It's no wonder that truth is stranger than fiction. Fiction has to make sense.
~ Mark Twain

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Obbl
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by Obbl »

Update on the fourth part:
I'm rewriting for the third time. And I'm sort of half taking Maximus Rex's advice and going down a different path. So, we'll see what comes of this.
Thanks for your support. Sorry this chapter is taking so long to write. It'll come.
~Obbl
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copper
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Re: Be Careful What You Wish For

Post by copper »

This is more than good enough to wait. I'd rather you be happy with what you write rather than have a quick update anyway.
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