Chosen…ish – (Choose Your Own Adventure)

By Writing Knights Press


The first time I saw you, I knew you were going to be trouble. No. Wait. I meant, IN trouble. I knew you were going to be IN trouble. The piss-smelling bus creaked along the rainy rubble like streets avoiding the lake-sized pot-holes. You were getting off first, as you always did. I was a couple stops later, as I always did. Yeah, once I found you, I moved close enough so I could hear if you screamed in the night and I could come save you… or kill you… whichever needed to happen.

Tonight was different. Tonight, a man stood at your bus stop in the rain. He didn’t take advantage of the bus system’s convenient half shelter. I reckon he thought he was cool with his long brown hair and thick frame. He looked like trouble, the kind of trouble, I needed you to stay away from.

I exited the bus from the back exit as you went out the front. He tried to say, “Excuse me,” but all that came out was “Ex-mfhmmum” as I put my hand over his mouth and my stiletto hilt-deep into his liver. You turned and I guided the cool guy into the alley before tossing him into the dumpster so you didn’t see. The clicking of your boots approached just as the thick plastic lid banged against the metal container.

“Excuse me, miss,” you said.

I turned. “Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

I brushed the hair out of my eyes. “Yeah. There was a guy, but I chased him off with my mace and the coward ran.”

“What’s in the dumpster?”

“Gum. I threw that away.”

“You know, gum is bad for you.”

I stepped towards you. “What do you mean?”

You stepped towards me. “Aspartame. It causes cancer.”

I stepped towards you. “That’s a myth. There is no quantifiable evidence.”

You stepped towards me. “Touché. What’s your name?”

“Milly. Grimilda.”

You smiled. “Your parents didn’t like you as a baby, did they?”

I shrugged. “My father died in a car accident before I was born. My mother died giving birth to me. The nuns. They didn’t like me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Grimilda means ‘witch’ in Old Norse.”
You grunted. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, so….” I curled my hair over my ear.

“So, my name is…,” and you told me your name.

“I’m just gonna call you OLF. Organic Life Form.”

“Why?”

“It’s an easy acronym to remember, in case I see you again.”

“We ride the same bus, we’ll see each other again.”

“Oh, you noticed?”

“How could I not?”

I blushed despite myself. “Well, thank you for checking up on me. I should get going.” I turned.

“Your stop is this way,” you pointed down the street, away from the way I turned.

I spun on my heels. “How do you know that?”

“We ride the same bus. I noticed this is the first time you’ve gotten off the bus with me.”

“The truth?” I offered.

“Please.”

“I…,” I started. “I was trying to muster up the courage to ask you out.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I’ll go out with you.”

I smiled. “Great! So… let’s exchange numbers and I’ll text you.”

We exchange numbers and part ways. I check my messages. I have two, one message from Mauricio and one message from April. Mauricio probably just wants to stare at my tits while he tries to steer me away from my mission. April is my roommate and partner in my endeavor to stop the Chosen One (you) from becoming the Chosen One.


Should I see Mauricio or April?

Source:: Writing Knights Press