7. The Author Uses Up Space

(regrettably, the author did not feel like going through the intricacies of stalking in any detail whatsoever. Also, sorry for not posting for MORE THAN A WEEK. *bangs wall on head about fifteen times*)

Links to all the other chapters...

1. A Jackrabbit Down
2. No Control Freak (contains first part of chapter 3...you could either start chapter 3 here, or merely move on to the next link)
3. Home
4. Tripped
5. The Clock Ticks (this chapter, for some stupid reason, has gone unposted for over half a year! Enjoy!)
6. A Break
7...oh. Right. Nevermind.


7. The Author Uses Up Space


It was nearly three weeks later, and, for Jack, nothing had changed, but the magnitude of his love, and, thereby, the magnitude of the clumsiness that had never occurred in his life before. He slept the same amount of time, roughly, but seldom felt rested. He had begun to lose weight at a rather insignificant rate, but Jack, however occupied he was with thinking about the girl and wondering what her day was going like (managing to restrain himself, most of the time, from finding out), he cared, and attempted to reverse this effect which seemed obviously related to his recent acquisition of what is hard to describe but with the word crush, these days. These efforts notwithstanding, Jack continued to maintain a weight which, though not greatly less than what he felt he should weigh, was enough, at this time, to occupy some of his time with greater efforts in exercising himself, as well as a reason to consume more water. Eventually, his efforts seemed to pay off, relieving him, somewhat, yet giving him no solace for his incredibly turbulent inner tempest.

Given all these circumstances, and given that the reader understands their gravity, one may begin to think he was less threatened by bullets and fists than by himself, by means of his usually well-contained emotions. Somehow, though, what wouldn't be badly described as a ticking time bomb kept on ticking, for a long, long time. It actually gave him some small pleasure, thinking that he had held out against one of mankind's greater vices for so long...or was it a vice? I fear making my judgment on the issue would not be prudent.

Jack woke up one day, having showered the previous night, with hair not dissimilar in shape, to a reasonably round cactus. Could he be blamed? Actually, yes. Why? If it's not obvious, I hereby sentence you to a life oblivious of a mere triviality, something I've yet to live through to completion.

Some would say Jack's life was ruined from the moment he woke up on. I think I could agree, but only to a degree, extent, or point. Jack made himself some toast and tried hard, for about ten seconds, to find something more substantial to eat. Proclaiming failure before the starting flag had touched the ground, he immediately removed himself to the living room, where Xink resided bodily, and also acted as if she were a faster machine. Jack flipped out of his mildly dazed state (one which he had been in for literally weeks) with an idea. Had Xink some way of reading his mind, her well-powered speakers would be reorienting his eardrums to a more fragmented state. As it was, she merely had the instant to notice Jack's change before he had the plug in his hand and out of the wall.

Jack didn't take an unhealthy amount of pride in his mechanical abilities, but he was strong, and metal was strong. Obviously, they had to meet up sometime and have a showdown. In Jack's case, he felt it ought to be more than occasionally. Thus, Xink, as she was before he unplugged her, was a mere nine months old, give or take a couple seconds. Given this, to Jack's sadness, he could not reasonably upgrade the whole system to new standards all around. However, Jack took pleasure in the mere ability to take something apart and put it back together, possibly even better than it was before. In this case, the latter part merely means he removed the minute amount of dust that had accumulated over the several months. Jack's mind, surprisingly, strayed from thoughts of the girl for the precious minutes that Xink occupied him. Sadly, the amount he could do was rather little. He almost regretted he didn't have the tools to take apart the individual components into their even smaller parts.

Xink was herself again within the hour, but Jack felt no greater for the experience. He quickly returned to the torture that was incumbent with loving but not knowing whether the love was returned. Jack feared, even more, though, that his love might be returned, and that the girl, let alone himself, might be worse off because of it. He was not sure that, however calm and careful he might appear on the outside, he would be able to control himself should his emotions play any role in what he did in the real world.

Worse, the school year was coming to an end. Instead of his usual desire to see the girl, he was now afraid of the more copious chances he would find to do exactly that. Even more did he fear the possibility that she already avidly returned his love, and that she would seek him out to tell him.

The author is somewhat sad, but also somewhat happy, at this time, to make the reader know that the girl is not the stupid girl mentioned in the title. Perhaps it's good, perhaps it's bad, but the author decided that less than a minute ago.

Jack's day ended like so many others had in the last few weeks, with him doing his nightly exercises and hitting the sack, whatever that means.


I hope this will prove to be the beginning of another bout of chapters...hopefully.


!Noah!