Scratch Theory

Just a guess about how all those unknown and forgotten scratches appear. Try to pay attention to the times.

Sunday, September 22, 2011 12:37 p.m.

Just another normal Sunday. Wake up at the crack of noon, briefly consider getting anything accomplished during the remaining half of the day, then stumble to the kitchen for breakfast, Blatantly ignoring an unmade bed and missing glasses.  Those will have to wait until after some Cheerios are consumed.
1:47 p.m.

After being awake for just an hour, I think I have now transformed from an anti-social, half asleep, zombie appearing teenager, to someone that is ready to face the world.  If only the world could be faced from the recliner on my couch.  While looking out the window, it is revealed to me just how much of a nice day this world has brought about to taunt me. With no true obligations other than the huge test the next day that I should probably study for, it is decided that a walk around the block should be made to... help me focus more.  Yea, that's it, focus. Better grab my phone in case I get any... no, in case anyone needs to... no.  Oh! ... no. Fine, face it; in case I need to check the time.

1:58 p.m.

Finally rounding the last corner. I swear this route gets longer and longer everytime I walk it.  Maybe I should go for one more lap.  I can always study later.  From where I am, I can see my cat in the window staring right past me.  What is she always stating at?  She must be delusional, there is nothing he... A green light surrounds me.

Outside time, but probably around 5:34 p.m. on Earth

I find myself strapped to a harsh metal table with a tray of foriegn tools beside me.  Also beside me is a not-so-friendly looking trolltypething reaching for what can only be described as a scalpel attatched to a snake wire.  The little trolltypething cuts into the finger of which I am currently trying to make an offensive gesture with, and inserts the wire.  I can feel it spreading through my body painfully slow, traveling through the advanced network of blood vessels and veins.  When the odd tool beeps as if to signefy the end of its terrible traveling, the trolltypething grabs a pen and paper, and writes down notes on a holigram coming from the table coming from the invasive tool.  With a push of a button, the wire is quickly retracted and taken out of my body, leaving me cursing and squirming on the bench.  I feel a pressure on the center of my forehead and everything goes white.

Sunday, September 22, 2011 1:59 p.m.

As I pass my house there is a sharp pain in my finger. How did I get that little scratch? Whatever, I hate it when I forget how I get these. They always hurt the worst.

Author's Note

any spelling/ grammar mistakes that you find please point out. Spelling is not my greatest strength. This is what I have decided to believe about all those mysterious scratches. If anyone has any different ideas, please share them!

Reviews

[mariah]

hey, i like the style of this. its relatable, realistic and easy to read. i also love a good cliff-hanger :P
-Mariah

[Patrick B]

very interesting... I feel like I'm watching some Alien movie. I would like to see more though!! It's a cliffhanger ending and I'm not in the mood to think!