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creative writing portfolio I just started typing then didn’t stop. Fall Semester Josiah Bright

1 table of contents a struggle with myself cool shoes ..................................................................................................................................... 2 other versions ............................................................................................................................... 4 the things i’ve lost ........................................................................................................................ 5 the fear of god the sticky notes on my wall ........................................................................................................... 6 an abecedarius for you ................................................................................................................. 7 bloody hands ................................................................................................................................ 8 a single arrow ............................................................................................................................... 9 blood memories withering away ........................................................................................................................... 10 growing up .................................................................................................................................. 11 blue eyes ..................................................................................................................................... 14

2 Cool Shoes A conversation with myself… Younger Self: Do I ever get cool shoes? Older Self: Cool shoes? That’s what you decided to ask me? Younger Self: Dad always makes me get these boring gray ones, but they’re really ugly. Do I get cool shoes in the future? Older Self: Think about this for a second. I’m you from the future. You could be asking me questions that are so much more important than what shoes I wear. Younger Self: That’s what someone with lame shoes would say. Older Self: Okay, fine. My shoes are still boring. Happy? I just picked out a pair that looked comfortable, kill me. Younger Self: Ugh, whatever. Do I get abs? Am I rich, at least? Older Self: At least? I think your expectations are a little high. Younger Self: Do I ever end up writing that book? Older Self: No. But there’s still time. Younger Self: C’mon, do I at least have a girlfriend? Older Self: No, we like guys. Younger Self: Oh. Do I have a boyfriend? Older self: No. But there’s— Younger Self: Let me guess. There’s still time? Older self: Can we go back to the shoe questions? I think I liked those more. Younger Self: What have I done then? Have I done anything at all? What about all of our dreams? Older Self: It’s not as easy as it looks, okay? I know you’re full of childhood naivety and misplaced confidence right now, but later on you’ll learn that there’s more to life than childhood

3 dreams. I have responsibilities now. Work to do. Maybe someday I’ll have time to write a book or pursue a real relationship, but right now it’s just not feasible. There’s too much going on. Younger Self: What could be more important than our dreams? That stuff is what we’ve always wanted. Older Self: Yeah, but those were just dreams I had as a kid. I have more important things to do right now. Like getting through college, working towards a real job, all that stuff… Younger Self: None of that seems fun. Are you happy doing any of that? Older Self: It doesn’t matter. That’s what I need to do. Younger Self: But does any of it really matter if you aren’t happy? Older Self: If I work hard enough, I’m sure I’ll find happiness. Younger Self: You don’t sound like me at all. I can’t imagine becoming someone like you. Older Self: You just don’t know what I mean yet. Blinded by ignorance. Younger Self: I may be ignorant, but I’m way happier than you. Maybe you should try to be more like me. Not all the time, but just occasionally… Let yourself be a child again. Older Self: Well… Maybe. Younger Self: Promise me something? Older Self: Sure. What do you want? Younger Self: Take some time off and get yourself cool shoes. Older Self: Yeah, okay. I’ll get cool shoes.

4 Other Versions Sometimes I can’t sleep because I keep wondering about the other versions of myself. Like, you know that parallel universe theory where there’s an infinite number of universes and thus infinite versions of yourself? Well, this is going to sound weird, but I have never felt like my true self. Like, sometimes I wonder if there’s another Josiah out there that’s doing everything right. Maybe there’s a Josiah that gets up on time and exercises every day and feels things he’s supposed to feel at the times he’s supposed to feel them. And maybe I’m just an off-brand version of him, you know? Maybe I’m like the Great Value brand of Josiahs. And sometimes I have dreams about meeting them. Oh, look, there’s Millionaire Josiah. And here’s Didn’t Puke On His First Grade English Teacher Josiah. All these versions of myself that didn’t make all those dumb mistakes that I made. I could’ve been any of them, but here I am. And it sucks. It sucks knowing that I had all those choices and still ended up here. It’s like playing a Telltale game and somehow getting the worst ending possible. How did you mess it up that bad? How did you become the worst version of yourself? That’s not really how it works though. If there’s infinite versions of myself, then there quite literally has to be worse versions of me. Like there’s probably Furry Josiah and Nazi Josiah. And Furry Nazi Josiah. Yeah, I’m definitely not the worst. Not that any of this parallel universe stuff matters. It’s just my brain finding creative ways to agonize over my past mistakes. I need to let go of all those Josiahs and focus on who I am right now. And then someday I’ll be the Josiah that I want to be.

5 the things i’ve lost all of the stuff in my backpack during freshman year after a fake bomb threat. books with gay characters that i used to hide under my bed. pages ripped out of my journal. any chance of having a positive high school experience after coming out. friends that i’ve had to leave behind every time my family moved when i was a kid. friends that left me behind when i came out in high school. my best friend after she told everyone i was gay before i was ready to come out. my childhood role models, especially mrs. stewart, after they mentioned their homophobic beliefs. respect for my mother after she refused to speak to me when I first came out. respect for my father after he threatened to crash the car on our way to church. respect for my brother after he punched a guy for admitting he had a crush on him. respect for the rest of my family after a reunion began with a discussion about gay people. respect for my classmates after a class began with a discussion about gay people. almost all of my relationships with people after i left high school. most of my problems after cutting ties with people from my small home town and finding new friends that like me for who i am. i don’t lose much anymore, now that i have a support system and people who accept me. i just wish i could tell younger me that things get better.

6 the sticky notes on my wall yellow – watching people run on their little hamster wheels, little fragments of people’s lives passing by the drive through window, refusing to look at the clock, watching someone cry while they make sandwiches, walking to our cars together so we all know we’re safe red – playing games with friends and pretending it’ll never end, watching others do something they love doing, going out in the rain with someone, eating candy for the first time in so long, feeling immersed in a world other than my own blue – noticing a relationship is fading or changing in some irreparable way, refusing to eat something sweet even though I want to, knowing my parents want a different son, refusing to think about the future to stave off stomach aches, watching someone waste opportunities that I’ve wanted my whole life green – watching someone enjoy something just as much as I do, being around happy animals that haven’t a care in the world, laughing until my stomach hurts but in a good way, finding a song or show or book that I know will be amazing, realizing I just experienced something I’ll never forget purple – parking at a gas station late at night to grab snacks, being alone in the woods or nature in general, old libraries where you’re surrounded by things that have existed much longer than you

7 An Abecedarius For You All it takes is those Brilliant blue eyes Crinkling at the edges as you Double down in laughter Even that sound alone is enough to Fall in love Gnawing doubt as I Hopefully lean a bit closer I know it’s just a Joke to you, but for me Keeping you Like this, happy and carefree Means more to me than Nectar from the gods Or any of their vanity Please stay here Quest or not, ignore their calls Rest your head on me and Spend our remaining days Together in this warm embrace Unceasing wars, angry gods Visons of red and white flags We can hide from it all Xanthic peace in our Youthful ignorance Zen at last

8 Bloody Hands A deity of power, the goddess of sun, may bring us back light, or chose to give none. So gather your neighbors and throng the halls or darkness will most surely devour us all. “It’s time to choose where you stand,” he screams at the crowd, blood on his hands. “With the goddess or those traitors of contravene!” and he points at those tied up by the guillotine. A fearful crowd listens to the savior, who promises light as their new mayor. So they all cheer for the goddess and douse in holy water and those who disagree are put to the slaughter. Motivated by fear and anger and a few well-placed strings, a crowd will commit to the most horrible of things.

9 a single arrow underneath dark roots and shades of blue began an ancient war through a single arrow history encased in stone and mildew a place now abandoned out of deceit and sorrow back once again, a figure lay in shadows a demon with bloody teeth and wicked will but there’s nobody left to maim or kill so they lie in wait with one more arrow thousands have fallen to the blood-thirsty beast who sows mistrust among friends like weeds with blood dark as ink and clawed feet and a devious grin as they plant doubtful seeds

10 Withering Away There are certain experiences in life that define who you are as a person. Events that trigger some sort of subtle mental shift deep within you. And sometimes there’s this split second just after these experiences in which you know everything will be different, that part of your identity has reformed and whatever person you were before all that has withered away. When Derek saw the girl’s limp body, he knew it was one of those moments. The corpse lay splayed out in the sand a few feet away. If not for being alone on a seemingly desolate beach, Derek would’ve assumed that someone had moved her body; she looked lifeless in the way a puppet moves without intent, her limbs twisted this way and that in an unnatural-looking position, and her eyes open just enough to show a sliver of white. An image like that can permanently change you, burrowing deep into your soul and festering like an infected wound. Every detail is etched into your mind. Brown hair strewn across the gore-stained sand, ripped clothing exposing the deep teeth marks all across her stomach... If he’d arrived just a bit earlier, would he have shared the same fate? And, just before he pulled out his phone to call the police, Derek had a small moment of absolute clarity that told him this completely random encounter would probably haunt him for the rest of his existence. And he’d tell the story over and over again to his children and then to his grandchildren, but they wouldn’t really get it. They wouldn’t feel what he’s feeling right now. It’s indescribable.

11 Growing up (Two middle-aged men stand beside a glass door in their local mall. Leo is well-groomed and dressed in expensive clothing. He has quite a few colorful tote bags hanging from his arms. Rufus, on the other hand, looks like a hobo that just snuck into the store. He has dark crescents under his eyes and messy bed hair.) RUFUS: Look. There’s an employee right outside! (Rufus presses his face against the glass door and bangs on it roughly with one fist.) Hey, We’re still in here! You locked us in. Hey, come let us out! LEO: Oh my god. I’ve always wanted to get locked inside a store. We should try on a bunch of clothes. No, wait, let’s go see if they left the escalators on. I wanna try running up one. RUFUS: No, no, no. This isn’t happening. (Rufus puts his back to the door and lets himself slowly sink to the ground.) I have a shift at the Spritz soon. And Amy and I are supposed to meet up at nine. I promised her that I wouldn’t be late this time. LEO: (Leo lets all his colorful tote bags fall to the floor. He picks up a brightly-colored speedo from a shelf and holds it up.) Do you think they’d notice if this goes missing? RUFUS: She’s going to dump me this time. I can tell. (He puts his face in his hands.) Oh god. This is just my luck. LEO: Cheer up, man. (Leo crouches to Rufus’s eye level.) I’m sorry you’re gonna miss a date with the Ice Queen, but there’s no use moping about it. We’ve got this whole place to ourselves. We can still have a fun night. RUFUS: That’s easy for you to say, Mr. Art Degree. Maybe it doesn’t matter if you disappear for the night, but I have people who are depending on me. Important things to do.

12 LEO: I actually have a lot of pride in what I do, thank you very much. (Leo holds up the speedo again.) Does this color give you ‘hot artist’ vibes? RUFUS: It gives me nudist vibes. (Rufus slaps the speedo out of Leo’s hands.) I’m being serious, Leo. We have to get out of here. Like, right now. LEO: Fine, whatever. I’ll call… Uh, who do I call? RUFUS: I don’t know. The fire department? LEO: (He looks around.) I don’t smell any smoke. RUFUS: You are dumb. They help stuck people. I think. Just hurry up and call them. LEO: (He stands up and paces across the floor.) I can’t believe this. You know what you’d do if this happened a few years ago? We’d be raiding the candy aisle and racing each other on store carts instantly. God, you’re just no fun anymore. The Ice Queen finally got to you. RUFUS: Stop calling her that. And it’s called growing up, Leo. Maybe you should try it sometime. LEO: Why does everyone keep saying that? Why does everyone think that being miserable is just a normal part of adulthood? (Leo stops pacing and stares down at Rufus.) Has it ever occurred to you that maybe you can have fun and still be an adult? That maybe being unhappy isn’t normal? RUFUS: (Rufus stands up.) Oh, well, I’m sorry I didn’t have a rich dad who gave me everything I wanted on a golden platter. Maybe I should try that next time.

13 LEO: That’s not— RUFUS: (Rufus steps closer and grabs Leo’s shirt, pulling him closer in a threatening manner.) I’ve had to work so hard for everything in my goddamn life. So yeah, I’m sorry if I’m just not happy enough for you. I’m sorry if I didn’t have enough money to stay in a comfy little bubble that protects me from having to change or grow as a person. I’m sorry if being an adult doesn’t come quite as easy for me. LEO: (Leo grabs Rufus’s wrists and gently pushes his hands away.) Dude. I wasn’t trying to… I just miss my friend. I know you’re busy with life and I know I’m privileged ‘cause I don’t have to be busy with life, but I feel like we’re barely around each other anymore. And now we’ve been given the perfect chance to have some fun, and all you can think about is leaving. I get why, but it still hurts. Just a little bit. RUFUS: Okay, well… I’m sorry for being around so little. And maybe you’re right. Maybe… (Rufus tilts his head back and looks up at the roof.) Maybe I shouldn’t be this miserable. Why have I been so content with my misery? Because I think that’s what being an adult is? LEO: I know you don’t have much time these days, but you need to let yourself be happy sometimes. Just… Whenever it’s possible. It’s hard seeing you like this. RUFUS: (There’s a lengthy pause, then Rufus bends down and picks up the speedo.) You were right. It does give off hot artist vibes. I was just grumpy. LEO: I knew it. RUFUS: Okay, let’s call someone and get out of here. But, if we have time… We can stop by the candy aisle.

14 Blue Eyes His fatal mistake was taking the alleyway. It’s the only way, Romeo had thought to himself. I can’t miss another meeting. I’ll be quick, and besides, nobody’s going to be out in this weather. The alleyway was dimly lit by a flickering lightbulb attached to one of the buildings, and Romeo stayed as close to the meager light as possible while he walked. He accidentally stepped in a surprisingly deep puddle, forcing him to take a step back in shock as the cold water enveloped a quarter of his entire leg. “Of course,” he muttered, examining his now mud-stained pants. He looked at the puddle in disgust, but found himself distracted by his reflection in the dirty water. Romeo looked ragged and tired from working all day, his usually shining blonde hair dulled and stuck in every which direction. The only thing that remained recognizable was the young man’s blue eyes, something he greatly admired about himself. He tried to ignore the dark purple bags underneath them. He was about to initiate a jump over the puddle when he saw something in the reflection that made him freeze. A dark silhouette was visible just behind his shoulder. His reaction was too slow. Before Romeo could do anything, he felt a large hand on his shoulder. It pushed him towards the brick wall of the alley, and something sharp pressed against his back. The intruder leaned close to his ear and growled, “Give me your wallet. Now!” The last word was basically barked at Romeo’s face. He could feel the other male’s warm, alcohol-ridden breath against the back of his head, and he shivered in a mixture of disgust and possible hypothermia. “I don’t have it on me! I accidentally left it at home,” Romeo cried out. “Empty your pockets,” the man demanded, and he felt the knife press deeper into his skin. “I can’t—“

15 The mugger reached into his pocket and violently dug around. Romeo’s heartbeat thundered loudly in his ears as he watched the man pull out his wallet. A few stray business cards fell to the asphalt floor as well. “You lied. Are you stupid? Gonna pay for that.” “I’m sorry, please! I’ll give you everything, I swear. Just don’t hurt me.” “Shouldn’t have lied.” He dragged the cold, sharp metal further up Romeo’s body, before finally settling on the back of his neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick.” Time seemed to slow down as the mugger began to make one quick cut across his neck, and Romeo suddenly felt an over-whelming wave of regret. Why did he decide to lie? Why didn’t he just let the man take it? And why did he spent so much time doing what he hated? If he had known this would be his last week alive, he wouldn’t have spent the last few days working in late. He would have gone to his daughter’s rehearsal instead. He would have visited his mother more. He would have— Someone’s voice echoed down the alleyway, and both men turned to see a woman’s silhouette standing nearby. The mugger immediately bolted with Romeo’s wallet, and he sighed in relief as the knife clattered to the ground. “Are you okay?” The woman jogged over to Romeo and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m okay. I’ve got some stuff to do though.” He started walking in the opposite direction of his meeting. “Do you want to walk with me until we’re in a safer place?” “Yeah, okay.”