Points of Authority pt. 1

[Travis Kroells 0]

“Points of Authority pt. 1”…Kroells’s logs (Log 67)

 

Session 1.

 

 

Neon shines through smokey eyes tonight, its 2 a.m. I’m drunk again; it’s heavy on my mind…

 

 

Where was he? It didn’t really matter anymore. He didn’t even know anymore. Somewhere in the San Francisco bay probably. Last three days spent like this, he couldn’t even remember how he had gotten to Earth from the Reaent. Not that it really mattered. Travis was rather set in his determination not to go back. Nothing left to do now, except to wallow in self pity, and drink himself away…

 

 

 

I could never love again; so much as I love you. Where you end where I begin is like river going through…Take my eyes take my heart I need them no more, if never again they fall upon the one I so adore…

 

Excuse me please, one more drink. Could you make it strong ‘cause I don’t need to think. She broke my heart, my grace is gone, one more drink and I’ll move on…

 

Oh yeah, there was that too… He finished another shot… Why was it that these things seemed to pile up on him? You would be stupid not to realize that bad things happen, but they always seemed to swell up, and cascade for Travis. He sighed and took another shot. Oh, he knew she was going to probably leave, but still, it hurt none the less. The ordeal she went through out there was unbelievable. Travis couldn’t even begin to figure out what all had changed.

 

Deep down he still loved her, no matter what had changed…but a lot had, and things were complicated to say the least. And, again, he knew she had to leave. She couldn’t be expected to stay on a ship, and find herself again. Maybe he’d find her soon, and go from there…

 

Maybe he’ll call Ridire in the morning…

 

Hard to say at the moment. Which each shot he took, coherent thoughts were getting harder and harder, which in the end, was he goal.

 

One drink to remember and another to forget…

 

Maybe he loved her, maybe not…he quite honestly was too drunk really decide, and, once again it was quite honestly better that way. He didn’t want to think, simple as that. All he wanted to do was spend the longest time in a drunken stupor, not having to worry about morals, or consequences…

 

An other shot…

 

Wow…getting hard to think now. He tried to stand, but fell out of his chair. Wait, why was he being dragged!? Why was he outside? He let out an odd little sigh, as he rolled around on the pavement, attempting to regain the ability to stand. But it was hard, oh how it was hard. So…maybe that was enough drinking for tonight…yeah…enough for tonight…but, tomorrow was another day, an other day for drinks.

 

Travis rolled onto his back, the cold night sky chilling his cheeks as he blissfully slipped into unconsciousness.

 

 

It was dark…and stuffy. Velvety at the same time. The feeling was unlike anything Kroells had experienced before. His hands felt the bottom of his small confinement. Plush, and rather comfortable, but at the same time a unshakeable disturbing feeling grew within Travis, until his thrust his eyes open, and realized where he was.

 

A coffin.

 

His breathing races, heart panicked, he yelled out, to no avail. He could hear children laughing in the background. The casket shook for a moment, and slowly began to lower into the ground. He screamed out again, knowing that his oxygen wouldn’t last long any way.

 

The view suddenly shifted. Now Travis could see above, as the casket was lowered. Children were playing far off. He spun around, to see a minister, and several other patrons. His father, Mogg, and several other close friends of his were present. He spun again, and checked the name on the headstone.

 

Travis Kroells…Pathetic man, Pathetic Death.

 

Travis made a sick little face at the statement. He turned to the minister, who said nothing. He couldn’t tell if he could see him or not, but no body present made any comment. Suddenly, once the casket stopped, his father grabbed a shovel that just appeared, unearthed a mound of soil, and held it over the casket.

 

“He was week.”

Edited April 18, 2004 by Lt. Travis Kroells