FINAL ROUND!!
Our three finalists are now put together for a final vote. Who will be the first winner? Who knows, it’s up to you. As always, remember to read through these stories one last time before you vote, and vote based on the contents of the story, not the song that inspired it!
Great job to every single person that entered. Whether your story made it to the final round or not, your stories were all incredible!!
Coin-Operated Boy by Amanda Palmer
Put it right over there please!” Amanda said, clapping her hands with glee. Two men brought in a large wooden box sealed with nails.
“I’ve waited ages for one of these, ‘’ Amanda whispered to herself as the two delivery men left. Amanda held a crowbar in her hand as she pried open the casket of fun. Laying in the wooden box was an immaculate figure, his face white as snow with perfectly smooth features, his blonde hair almost see through. He was the text book standard for a perfect man. Except for one small problem; the giant crack on his face.
The lifeless boy sat up suddenly, a robotic voice commanding: insert coin for joy
Amanda fumbled for a coin, she shoved it into the fake boys chest. His mouth moved robotically,
“Hello my new love. I am yours forever.”
His voice sounded like 6 different men speaking at the same time.
“But… you’re broken” Amanda spoke stunned
“Am I not satisfactory?”
“You’re broken!”
The boy reaches up and feels the crack across his face
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you wanted me to be.” The boy says as if it’s an automatic response, devoid of emotion
“I’ll give you a chance. I’ve broken many real boys, destroying an already cracked one seems fun!” Amanda says all too ready to embrace the broken figure. She pulls the Boy out of his casket, she poses him in a dancing position. She moves to another part of the room and starts a piano track.
“Dance with me toy.”Amanda says, taking Boys hand. She led him in a graceful waltz, both of them smiling. Boy looks around, the house he is in seems old yet lavish. He’d imagine that he’d be very happy here. Only one thing was bugging him.
“Miss?” Boy said unexpectedly
“Yes?” Amanda responded nonchalantly
“What happened to the other boys you ‘broke?’” Boy spoke slightly frightened
Amanda stopped dancing, she pulled boys arm hard. She led him silently through her house, she eventually stopped in front of a door filled with locks.
“This happend…” she pulled the door open and shoved Boy into the dark room that had been revealed. Boy looked at her as she slammed the door shut.
“Get comfortable down there Toy, I’ll let you out when I’m bored again. Maybe by then you’ll have learned that I don’t like to be asked questions.” Amanda laughed as she walked away from the door, Boy was left with his thoughts. Nothing in his programming had prepared him for this, he was taught “Be loving to be loved” but that wasn’t working.
“I shouldn’t have crossed the miss, this is my fault. When she comes back I’ll love her like I was supposed to!” Boy spoke aloud to himself, certain to win over Amanda’s favor. Boy looked around his new, and hopefully temporary, prison. It was dark, barren, and absolutely filthy. This was not a place for a pretty little thing like him. He looked around once more, seeing something in the darkness. Around him were bodies, dozens of them piled up around him. At first he couldn’t see due to the darkness, but once he saw one of them he was able to see them all. Boy stood there terrified, worried that his carcass would join them. He backed up against the door and waited.
About an hour later the door finally opened.
“Are you ready to listen?” Amanda said opening the door smiling
“Yes Miss!” Boy replied quickly wanting to leave his prison. As he exited the prison Amanda examined him.
“Oh you’re filthy! Get cleaned or I will dispose of you!” Amanda snapped pointing at the bathroom
“Yes miss!” Boy headed to the bathroom to make himself acceptable for Amanda. For the first time Boy was able to see what he looked like. Aside from the crack on his face he thought he looked quite handsome. His perfect jaw outlining his perfect face, his blue eyes giving the color accent, and his blonde hair making him look pristine even though he was covered in dirt. As for his clothes, he was clad in a black suit which looked very expensive even though he was covered in filth. He quickly cleaned himself up, looking presentable for his Miss.
“I’m ready miss!” He said as he exited the bathroom and made his way to her
“I’m afraid I was mislead. I was told you’d love me, and all you do is fear me.” Amanda said with her back turned to Boy
“Miss?” Boy questioned
“You aren’t perfection, and you don’t love me. I’m afraid I’m going to have to return you.” Amanda said her back still turned.
“I understand miss, I’ll return to my box.” Boy said relived he’d be sent to someone else.
“Here’s the thing…” Amanda started before Boy could walk away “I can only return you if you don’t function… and they I see it you still work.” Amanda turns around revealing a large knife in her hand. She runs at Boy, aimed to kill.
“If it satisfies you, destroy me if you’d like” Boy looked surprised, he couldn’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth. His programming allotted for her to do whatever she wanted. He stood there in fear, he was unable to stop her. She attacked him. Gruesomely. As she plunged her knife into his robotic chest, he was met with pain. The first thing he’s felt physically hit him like a brick, his insides were torn apart. His gears, his oil, his wires; similar to the structure of a human. Covered in oil he fell to the ground. Amanda watched and laughed.
“Glad to be of service” his voice box said broken as laid in his own black blood. Amanda looked at him with no feeling. She lifted her boot and crushed his once perfect face. Shattering it. The last thing Boy thought before his circuits stopped was, Do robots go to heaven? His body stoped twitching. He was as lifeless as he was when he arrived.
Not five minutes later Amanda placed an order for a new one.
…Well, Better than the Alternative by Will Wood
“Maddie, the sun’s gonna set soon, you need to wrap it up.” I leaned forward on the sidewalk, trying to see around the cars parked along the curb. She slowly made her way over and pulled the bicycle to a stop about a meter away from me.
“Come on, dad—“ she glanced over her shoulder, back into the cul-de-sac. “Just a few more times? Pretty please?”
I furrowed my brow in thought before looking back up. I met her eyes, smiling.
“Alright, I guess you can. Just two more times, though— I’m counting!” I shouted as she cycled away, not letting me finish. Sighing, I sat up on the warm pavement and took a sip from my thermos, the coffee burning my tongue.
I wonder if she’s ever ridden a bike before today. Should I tell her that I haven’t? I thought.
She emerged from behind the cars before taking a sharp turn and heading back down the road.
What would she think of me?
Before I could form an answer, I heard metal crashing into brick, soon followed by a scream. I quickly stood and scrambled past the cars, trying not to stumble over my own feet. Sure enough, she’d crashed into a mailbox and fallen onto the road.
“Hey, you okay?” I asked, crouching down beside her. She held one of her skinned knees to her chest with bloodied hands, tears streaming down her cheeks. With some encouragement, I managed to get her to stand, and lifted her bike from the unscathed mailbox as I held her hand. “We’ll go home and put some medicine and a Band-Aid on those, alright? And, I’ll… I’ll fix you a glass of lemonade.”
She nodded, sniffling. With one hand on the bicycle handle and the other in hers, we began to head home.
My mind wandered as her cries began to quiet down. This entire situation could’ve been avoided. Why wasn’t I keeping an eye on her? Maybe the bike was a bad idea after all. This would’ve never happened with her mother. I should’ve known better.
I wasn’t perfect. There was plenty wrong with me. Hell, more often than not I found the disheveled figure staring back at me in the bathroom mirror to be nothing more than an awful excuse of a man, much less a father.
In a way, our disagreements were comforting. The idea that she might somehow turn out like me terrified me.
We’d made it back in just a few minutes. I told her to go inside while I put her bicycle back up in the garage. It’d be a while before we’d get it down again, I figured.
Inside, she’d already gotten the box of bandages down from the medicine cabinet. Though her hands were shaking and blood was pooling in her palms, she managed to get one onto her knee. I helped with the rest.
I later stopped in front of the door to the garage, bicycle helmet in hand. Peering into the living room, where she sat wrapped in a blanket on the couch, I felt a knot release from my chest; she was going to be alright.
Maybe I’d overreacted a little bit.
I’d failed most of the people in my life, to be fair. I wouldn’t dare admit it, but my parents had failed me. The cigarette burn scars scattered along my forearms served as a written reminder of the promise I made to myself all those years ago, back in my childhood bedroom. I’d never hurt her as they had hurt me.
Once back inside, I hurried to the fridge and grabbed a small bottle of pink lemonade. My first instinct was to take the entire bottle over, but with a moment’s hesitation, I turned back around and emptied it into a small plastic cup.
“I got your lemonade,” I said, setting it onto the coffee table. She lowered the blanket and reached out for it. I took a seat beside her on the couch.
“Thank you.” She studied it before setting it back down. “Y’know, Mom used to always get me lemonade after school. We’d always go through the drive-thru and use the app on her phone to get discounts. She’d get me lemonade instead of something for herself ‘cause she didn’t like anything they had.”
Unsure of what to say, I kept silent. She looked up at me, confused.
“… Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Thanks, Dad. I just, um,” she paused, her voice breaking. “I still miss her really bad.”
In the beginning, it was hard. It was no secret that she’d loved her mom more than anything. On the day the caseworkers brought her to my doorstep, any last bit of stability left in our lives was stripped away from us both; we spent those first few months jumping between rentals, schools, and jobs. Our home was plagued by arguments and uncomfortable silences. But, slowly, I learned how to love again. I learned how to welcome her into my arms and let her cry on my shoulder when she found herself aching for her mother’s warm embrace, although I knew I’d never be able to completely ease her pain.
Even so, we’d made progress. I’d found a half-decent job. We hadn’t moved in eight months, longer than ever before. She’d tell me about her friends over fast food dinners with a smile. I’d sought out help. As I spent more time around her, I came to realize my fears had no ground. We were getting better…
… but what good did any of that do? Here we were, still stuck in the same place we’d always been.
“I know, Maddie. I’m sorry,” I finally said. “I’m promise I’m trying my best. Really.”
“I know.” Her bandaged hands, resting facedown on her lap, had stopped shaking.
Things could be a lot worse, I thought. I’d promised myself to get better for her sake, and I was going to.
I had to.
Lightening by tiger lili
do you remember when we got caught in that storm last August?
you had wanted to get out of town
to go somewhere,
nowhere,
anywhere at all
and of course I followed
I could never keep myself from following you
you told me that we might get lost
and I told you that I didn’t care
would I really be lost if I was with you?
you were always my horizon
always moving forward, always halfway somewhere
always out of reach
we had driven for hours before the storm began,
the sky growing grey,
the rain pattering down,
the air buzzing with energy
you pulled the car off to the side of the road
and I urged you to keep driving,
I told I didn’t want to get caught in the storm
I was already caught in you
you bolted out of the car
and I raced to catch up with you,
chasing after you like I always did
a flash of light crackled through the sky,
a deep rumble shaking the ground beneath us
something in you shifted in that moment,
and I don’t know if it ever shifted back
you climbed up onto the roof of the car
howling with delight as the thunder roared overhead
and I begged you to get down,
to get back to safety
you just looked at me with a stupid grin and laughed,
as if you thought the lightning couldn’t touch you
as if you were daring the heavens to strike you down
you seemed almost invincible to the storm,
almost divine in the way you lit up with electricity
I had wondered if I reached out to touch you,
if you would disappear into a burst of sparks at my fingertips
a light flashed behind you
and your eyes met mine
something igniting between us
as the storm seemed to freeze around us,
you gave me a promise
that you would die for me
I don’t know why, but I had believed you
I knew you really meant it
in return I promised you that we would live forever
and in that moment,
it seemed entirely possible
do you remember?
FINAL VOTE
- Coin-Operated Boy
- …Well, Better than the Alternative
- Lightening
Tag anyone who you think would want to vote so we can have as many votes as possible!!
