"Hello, my name is Addict..." - A short by 10011 

Before I was awakened, I was a confused teen.  I was in a world that I didn't understand and didn't plan to any time soon.  I guess I could blame it on the Matrix.  I could say that I was beginning to get that special awareness that comes before you get the magical pill from the man in the black trench.  I could say that was why I did the things I did.  But the truth was, I didn't have the slightest idea what the Matrix was and I didn't care.  I was oblivious to the world (with a little help from my friends, of course).  There's plenty of virtual narcotics for an unhappy bluepill with the drive to find it and the cash to back it.

Bliss... it's an imperfect thing. You think you're happy but you're just pretending. The whole time, you're sinking deeper into that hole. It's a hole in yourself. It's a portal into the void. If you go in too far, you never come back. So I guess it was lucky that I was "discovered." Frankly, I think he made a big mistake on that one. He... to be honest, I can't even remember his name. You'd think that the man who frees you from the Matrix would be someone worth remembering, but I can't recall. He's probably dead. It's the same future that's waiting for any of us; a forgotten casualty in a war that will never end. They tell me that there's been half a dozen Zions before this one. I can believe it. This conflict is something that we'll never get past.

I was awakened into a world that had no place for me. I wasn't cut out to be a soldier. I was a drug chaser, not a militant killing machine. I wasn't disciplined. I wasn't cut out to follow orders. If I had thought there was any chance, I probably would have gone back. But instead, I tried. I did what I was told and I fought with the rest. Some died, some lived. I lived. But it was a hollow life. Don't get me wrong, there were people that meant something to me. But they're dead, and they're gone and that's that.

But then there was hope! He died so that we didn't have to. It was a truce. Something that nobody thought possible, least of all me. I know it won't last; it can't at the rate things are going. This war is eternal, one man is not enough to stop it. But I still played by the rules. Because now there were newly awakeneds everywhere. And crowded hoverbarges where one man is as inconspicuous as the next. The only thing that pulled me away from the sweet, comforting embrace of unreality was the vital and immediate need for food. But when you got back from the mess, there was always a space just opening up. And that was how I slipped through the cracks.

I didn't even do anything in particular. I would wander the streets aimlessly. Sometimes hit a club, sometimes go to a movie. I took a cab everywhere. I didn't need to exploit the system to make myself feel big. In here, I had my old life back. Zion had nothing to offer me. A swift memorial when I finally bite the bullet, but little else. Zion is a human machine. It has gears made of people and circuits made of blood and the whole thing runs on sweat and shell casings. The Zion machine will grind itself against the Machine system until there is nothing left. They're two machines, locked together and fully throttled. The way I see it, they'll both rip each other to pieces. That's no kind of life. So I say live and let live.

Spotty record-keeping lets me log some fifty odd hours a week jacked in. There's plenty of other newbies around to keep me camouflaged and under the radar. Plus, there's captains pilling new ones every day. I roam the streets, I do my thing. It's not the places that are important; it's the quality of it all. The air is smoggy and sweet. There's a sun in the sky and a chocolate bar in my pocket. It's a little melted, but to me... it's real. Sometimes I walk past AA meetings. Some day I will walk in and say "Hello, my name is Cole and I'm an addict. Your reality is my drug. And I'm never going sober again."

I cant compete with the time you have Yasamuu1, but ill chuck mine in just so everyone can have a read.

lul wut?

Uh, anyway, that was posted for exsuscito, it's not my entry.

Mine's still in the works. " width="15" height="15" />

Though that is a amazing piece Fen and deserves recognition in its originality and detail im afraid it wouldn't be fair for others if this story was allowed to enter you have had alot longer to write it and prefect it and ofcourse it is much longer.



Though it is a excellent job and i would go get a job being a writer if i were you it would be quite unfair if you were allowed that entry.



I hope you understand.



Do you agree Havocide?

Thanks, I really appreciate that.

And, I'll let that be Havocide's call, I guess.  There wasn't anything in the original post about when the story was written, just when you needed to submit it.  I'd understand if he refused it, though.

Heh, just wanted to get it out there for more to read it, honestly. 

And, I'll let that be Havocide's call, I guess.  There wasn't anything in the original post about when the story was written, just when you needed to submit it.  I'd understand if he refused it, though.

Heh, just wanted to get it out there for more to read it, honestly.  " width="15" height="15" />

I'll second what Fen said. It just so happens that mine and Vesuveus' stories are also previous works. Not sure about exsusito's. It just said to submit a story, doesn't seem to matter how much time you spent writing it.

I wrote mine in an hour if it makes you feel any better.

Well, exsuscito did his story pretty recently (within the two weeks, I believe).

Speaking from my own POV, I wouldn't really care if something I wrote was beaten by the better story.

... Except that no one wants to read 100 pages. Especially not contest judges.

One should never write any longer than one can hold their readers' attention for.

That said... I think I'll work on a new piece and enter it. It's been too *CENSORED* long since I wrote anything self-contained.

- Void

Void's Story

Mm.

The End.

 Bare in mind a long story might not give you an advantage over a shorter story, it is more quality over quantity.

Folie à Deux

Thank you, Ink.  It wasn't letting me link for some bizarre reason.