Writing Prompt 2: The Habit

Prompt: Damn it! He should have known better.  Now the cops were going to know where to find him.

He was trying so hard to kick the habit.  It started in college and now the problem had only gotten worse.  From late nights in the dorm to even later mornings in his apartment, Dan couldn't escape from it.  It gave him a high like nothing else could.


Even though he knew that pirating music was illegal, he just couldn't stop.  The adrenaline that ran through his veins when he knew that he wasn't going to have to pay one cent for Zeppelin's "Stairway to Heaven" was enough to keep him going for a long time.


Taking a break to rest his eyes from the computer screen's blinding light, Dan slumped down into his worn, mushy couch and turned the TV on.  Just reading the banner along the bottom of the 11 o'clock news show was enough to make him stop breathing for a second or two.  Moon County woman arrested for illegal music downloads, the banner screamed at him.  "I live in Moon County," was his first thought.  He staggered his invisible bearings for a moment and then chuckled at himself.  "Dan," he said aloud to himself, "Nothing's going to happen, man!  They'll never find you.  You have all your shit backed up on an external hard drive.  You can hide that.  They'll never find you."


He kept reassuring himself that they would never find him over the next several hours.  Dan worked from home as a freelance copy editor, which only helped to secure his addiction to pirating, since he never left his computer.  All day long, Dan typed and read and typed some more, and fixed and corrected.  He constantly thought back to the news report from the previous night.  Knowing where to find the best sources for news thanks to his job, Dan started looking around the Internet for a continuation of the story.


When he finally found it, that boulder of anxiety that sat in his stomach hours earlier returned.  When the cops looked through this woman's library of music, they discovered she easily had over 1,000 songs, none of which were paid for.  Even though pirating music had become more accepted over the last couple of years, it was still considered a crime since you were technically stealing the music.  Dan knew this.  He had edited stories about this.  He knew the implications he was facing.


He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.  "Dan," he said to himself in a stern and annoyed tone, "You're not going to jail for this.  They'll never find you, man.  That lady on the news?  That was just some freak accident!  Chill out!"


He took a deep breath, closed the Internet browser, and continued to edit the article he had been working on.


Later that night, Dan took his bowl of ramen soup to the couch and once again turned on his TV to find a continuation of the news report from last night.  Now the story was getting more and more real, and it was really scaring him.  A man, three doors down from where Dan lived, had now been arrested for the same thing as the lady the night before, pirating music.  The man's name was Avery.  Dan lost his appetite as the boulder returned.  Not only did Dan know Avery, as they were neighbors, Dan was the one who taught Avery how to pirate music.  "Shit!" Dan thought to himself in a panic.  Now, he knew he was next.  First, the same county, and then the same street?  What were the odds?  And of course, Dan was certain, Avery would tell the cops about him.  It was a way to take the heat off of him for the crime he committed.


All Dan wanted to do was find a way out.  He didn't want to go to jail, but he didn't want to lose all his music, either.  He began thinking places to go.  He couldn't go to any friends or family members, that'd be the first place anybody would try looking for  him.  Then an idea hit.  Dan was a copy editor, but for many different publications.  There wasn't a set few he was employed to work for; anytime someone needed something edited in a hurry, it got sent to Dan.  "I could hide in one of those offices," Dan thought to himself.  "They would never know which one to find me in!  And if I hide well enough, maybe they'd just give up the search for me entirely!  This plan has to work, I can't go to jail."


Dan set to packing up his things.  Thanks to his external hard drive, Dan was able to pack lighter and not worry about hauling a clunky computer with him as he was making his escape.  He packed some essentials, tooth brush, clean boxers, and his phone and phone charger.  He made sure to take his evidence, the external, with him in his backpack.


Dan knew right where to go.  He wasn't sure how the idea had popped into his head, but he knew it was fail-proof.  He would go to the office of the Wane County Digest, a small publication with a reader base of about 200.  Dan wasn't even sure why they needed him to edit their stuff, since that number of people wasn't really enough to worry about catching a few spelling errors, but it was money in his pocket.  And since he was on the payroll, Dan gave the security guard some excuse about needing to print a piece and having permission from the editor.  "So Mary said it was okay for you to come to her office at 10 o'clock at night to print something?" asked the portly night guard in a suspicious tone.  "Yes, she did.  You can call her right now, at 10 o'clock at night, if you want to, to confirm that," Dan said, hoping he seemed confident enough to throw the guard off his back.  It worked.  The guard shrugged and let Dan inside, and he quickly took off, looking for the safest place to hide.


He found a janitorial supply closet.  There wasn't a lot of space, but Dan just needed a place to hide long enough for the story to die out.  He crumpled himself up into a ball in the corner of the closet.  There were large pieces of cardboard, most likely used as potential idea boards in meetings, and Dan made himself a home behind them in his corner.  "There!" he thought, "Now nobody can find me."  He decided it was time to try and sleep, now that he was safe.  He did all he could to get comfortable, and finally began nodding off.  His mind started to wander.


Suddenly, his head snapped up, and his breath caught in his throat.  Now he remembered how he got the idea to come to the Wane County Digest.  The last story he had been editing, just before he saw the news report about Avery, was from the Wane County Digest.  Dan didn't even finish editing the story, because he was too set on getting out of the house.  He was in such a hurry that he left the unedited story up on his computer, which he hadn't taken with him.  Dan went numb for a second.  He wasn't sure what to do.  The guard downstairs was already suspicious enough, and if he tried to go anywhere else, the police would surely find him.  "Damn it!" he screamed inside his head, "I should have known better! Now they'll know where to find me.  I have to do something!"

Just then, the door to the supply closet opened, startling Dan.  A flashlight peered inside, looking for him.  "Wait!  I see something!" called the voice carrying the flashlight.  The light caught the reflection on Dan's shoe buckle.  A hand moved the cardboard Dan was hiding behind.  It was a cop.  The jig was up.  "You Dan Lester?" the thundering voice asked.  A cowardly "Yes" escaped from Dan's mouth.  "Come with me, sir" the thunder said.  Dan stood up, and became face to face with a police officer he had seen on the news carrying Avery and the woman out of their houses.  "Come with me, son," the cop said.  "We have a lot to talk about.  Avery Collins says you can enlighten us about stealing music."  Behind the cop stood the guard from downstairs.  "I knew you weren't trying to print something.  So I called for some backup.  Nice try, punk."


Dan sighed.  No more running.  He was caught.  As the cop cuffed him and escorted him out of the building, Dan was at least grateful there was no camera to capture the moment.  It was time to face the music.


The end.

Prompt: Intro and Prompt 1

Much like my book reviews, in order to keep up with my resolutions and write more this year, I've taken on writing prompts.  When I was in high school, I took a creative writing class, and everyday we were given a different prompt to write about.  This eventually made me a better writer, and this very class is what inspired my college major of journalism.  In keeping with becoming a better writer, I've found a page of 365 writing prompts to follow this year.  I'm not going to promise that I write everyday, or that my writing is award-winning, but I really want to try this.  Here goes nothing!

First prompt: The wind howled through the window. The girl sat huddling her knees waiting for the storm to be over.

It was a dark and stormy night.  Outside Abby's bedroom window, the naked tree branch slapped the glass.   It woke her from an otherwise restful sleep.  Normally, Abby could sleep through storms like these, and they even often comforted her.  But not tonight.  Tonight would be different from any storm she had experienced before.


The wind howled like a wolf against the brick and mortar of her house.  Banging her head against the pillow, and finding that she couldn't go back to sleep, Abby decided that getting a glass of milk from the kitchen would help.  She pulled the warm covers back and traded them for a cold floor against her bare feet.  She walked through the darkness of the house, relying not on light but rather on her 16 years of living there to guide her to the kitchen.  The light nearly blinded her as she opened the door of the fridge and fumbled for the carton of milk.  After pouring herself a glass, Abby drank the milk and headed back to her room, already feeling more at ease and ready to go back to bed.


The bright red numbers of her alarm clock told her it was nearly 4 in the morning.  She groaned, hating having the burden of trying to go back to sleep.  The drops of rain against the window, like other storms, seemed comforting to her, and she quickly began to listen to their lullaby and drift off.


An alarm began screaming in the distance.  Abby jolted up in her bed, recognizing the sound to be a tornado siren.  Crack!  The same naked tree branch that had awakened her minutes ago was now reaching for her through the window it had broken into.  Abby ran from her bed and into her closet.  She could hear things like the strong and menacing wind that was swirling around the house.  Her parents were calling for her to come down to the basement with them, but fear had paralyzed Abby and she couldn't move.  The new hole in her window allowed the elements that were raging outside to find a home in Abby's room.  The wind howled through the window.  Abby sat in her closet, huddling her knees, waiting and praying for the storm to be over.


Woosh!  Her closet's French doors swung open, and Abby was being pulled against her will by the suction of the wind.  She tried holding onto the doorway of the closet, but she couldn't hold on forever.  Her fingers finally gave, and she went hurtling through the air toward to broken window.


Buzz buzz, went the alarm clock.  Abby rose up in bed, dripping with sweat.  Instinctively, she took her hands and felt herself to make sure she was still in one piece.  She looked around the room to see the lemon-colored sunbeams of early morning streaming into her room.  Nothing was broken, not even the window.  Things were not strewn about, and everything was as it should be.  Abby breathed a long and heavy sigh of relief.  While she was getting dressed for school, Abby noticed something strange.  There was a glass on her bedside table with the creamy residue of milk on the inside of it.  "Was it a dream?" she wondered to herself.  She shrugged, took the glass to the kitchen, and hoped tonight's dream would simply be better.


The end.