It only took ten seconds for it to sink in. I was bleeding badly from my abdomen. Where was all this blood coming from? I looked around at everyone running away from me. Where was everyone going? Help me, I'm bleeding.
Buildings around me burned with hot heat. Grammy's Corner Store was being looted. People ran out with bags of food and large containers of soda pop. Two people were fighting over a Motorola, one of the ones that Grammy often had on sale.
The ground was littered with shards of glass. An occasional brick was being thrown through a window. Store after store, the owners lost more and more merchandise. This was supposed to be a peaceful protest. What happened?
I heard people shouting his name. "Say his name! Noah Adir!" they shouted. Noah was executed a few weeks ago. I don't think he did anything wrong. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and that lady targeted him on purpose. That's what we're here for. For Noah Adir.
I looked down at my soaked hands. It stings and I can’t get up. My stomach was still running with blood when I discovered the gaping hole.
He suddenly stopped when he saw me. "Help" I made out before the officer put two of his fingers against my neck and shook his head to another running officer. "Help" I tried again. Can he hear me? I wonder.
There was a little girl, dressed in all white, except a growing red stain on the front of her dress. It was spreading wider and wider on the asphalt, and as I looked down, I saw my blood mixing with hers.
Why is my stomach burning? Why am I not in pain? I can’t feel my toes! What is happening? Who is this little girl? Is she dead?
Just then, a woman in a white suit with a shimmering gold mask walked up to me. She picked me up off the cool ground with another person grabbing hold of my legs. They put me on a stretcher and took me to the hospital. I just hoped that they picked the little girl up too.
As I faded in and out of consciousness, I saw people working over me, trying to fix whatever burning sensation I felt in my stomach. This is it. This is how I die. With a gunshot wound to my stomach. Almost too close to my face, I heard a doctor with stale lunch breath ask, "Can you hear me?"
To be honest, I couldn't hear him. It was like he was drifting in and out. His voice was a million light-years away from me as I struggled to make out his words. "Can I get a BR stat? And a TSM with 45 milligrams of saline? And let Dr. Gilmore know we're heading to the OR!"
The machine next to me beeps, slowly at first, then flatlines. I am trolled into what I presume is the OR as the doctor jumps onto my bed and starts compressions. He grunts, "Come on now. Don't leave me. You got this. Don’t give up! Damn it, start beating!"
But my heart doesn't start beating. It flatlines all the way to the OR, where I'm pronounced dead. And then I wake up.
Yes you heard right. I woke up. This time, I’m surrounded by the heat of the bright sun. People all around me are shouting, “Say his name! Noah Adir! Say it loud! We end this here!” It dawns on me like a child going to the dentist, I’m back at the protest.
I look around to see everyone standing before a line of policemen. Oh no. Not again. I turn around at the direction of a boy, who looked to be about seventeen, holding a gun right at the police officers. In his line of fire was a little girl, about seven years old, who was perched on someone’s shoulders chanting loudly.
She had dark chocolate brown skin and cornrows with beads swinging in the afternoon breeze. Her white shirt glistened in the sunlight, which brought attention to her tiny white sandals. It was the same girl who didn’t make it, so I knew what would happen, and lunged at her.
I didn’t hear his warning until it was too late. And yet again, I lay on the ground, bleeding out. It all happened so fast I don’t think I could’ve caught myself if I tried. The teenage boy’s face grew with concern. He looked like he battled between helping me or running away until he decided it was a best bet that he wouldn't go to jail and jetted off.
Why was everyone running away? Do they not see me and this little girl laying here, bleeding out? Where are y’all going? Help me. Grammy’s Corner Store was being looted again. The same police officer ran up to me, touched my neck with two fingers, and shook his head to another officer. I’m right here. I’m not dead yet.
The lady with the gold mask comes up to me, but this time she says, “You’re in good hands. Fight, I tell you. Fight it!” What does that even mean?
She and another person pick me up and places me on a stretcher. They took me to the same hospital where I was before. This time, a different doctor speaks to me. “Hello? Can you hear me?” This doctor’s breath wasn’t as bad, but she was still a little too close to my face.
Like the first doctor, I couldn’t hear her very well. Her voice drifted in and out like the ocean to the sand. They troll me out of the room with my heart monitor beeping steadily. What’s going on?
I make it all the way to the OR before my heartbeat slows to a stop, and again, flatlines. The doctor starts compressions, but it’s too late for me. I’m already so far gone not even God himself can save me. And again, I wake up.
I’m back at the protest. The warmth from the protesters' bodies make the air hard to breathe. They were shouting a chant that they all came up with to the line of police officers. They were the same police officers from before, who stood stoic with their bullet proof shields in place.
I turned around to see all the people chanting behind me, when I caught a glimpse of the teenager who shot into the crowd twice before. This isn’t just a coincidence. He’s here to shoot again at the police officers. I duck and dodge through the crowd and lunge towards the boy. But it was too late when he pulled the trigger, and I’m restarting my death all over again.
Again I wake up to the hot sun beaming down over me. What the hell is going on? The same thing keeps happening to me over and over. Who knows how many times I’ve been through this time loop. I glance around at the crowd and pinpoint the little girl. In a haste, I ran towards the man who had her upon his shoulders.
The warning didn’t register until I was hit with a bullet, this time straight to the head. And again, I wake up.
Back at the protest, I immediately know where I am. For some reason, I can’t remember what day it is. But I know today isn’t the day that anyone else dies. I leap into action, getting the girl on the ground safely and successfully shouting, “Gun!” Everyone scattered like little bugs on a chalkboard.
People were screaming. I heard one high pitched voice scream louder than the others and ran in that direction. It was a police officer. He shot the girl in the leg with a straight face and stared down at her, listening to her pitiful wails.
There was a teenager who knelt beside her trying to stop the bleeding. His face shook with anger as he reached into his waistband and pulled out a gun. The police officer released his shield that was meant to protect him against a bullet, and his vest, and looked up at the sky.
I couldn’t move. I wish I could help him, say something at least, but what could I do? I’ve already been shot three times, from what I can remember. The officer’s lips moved slowly as something told my legs to move. I lunged at the police officer, but the bullet had already penetrated his body. And mine.
This time I lay in the street alone, no little girl. Just me with my bleeding out stomach. I close my eyes to shield the sunlight pouring down on me. It’s peaceful now. The birds are chirping and I smell BBQ from some restaurant two blocks over. And then I wake up again and it starts all over.
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107 comments
I write whenever I get inspiration. Pinterest helps! You gotta wait for your creativity to flow. Once my brain starts working I write, and it should be easily, flowing, like a river. And you should probably take breaks. Cookies help! (The form)
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There's a form of writing stories called "Cookies"? Anyways, thank for the comment!!
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There is? Nice! Welcome :)
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Would you like to take my writing quiz? Here: https://forms.gle/yJjUqZHczPbtASCF9
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Of course!
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Of course! Though, I'm not able to type 🤔
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❤️🧡💛💚💙💜YOU ARE AN AWESOME AUTHOR ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜YOU ARE AN AWESOME AUTHOR ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜YOU ARE AN AWESOME AUTHOR ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜YOU ARE AN AWESOME AUTHOR ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜YOU ARE AN AWESOME AUTHOR ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜YOU ARE AN AWESOME AUTHOR ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜YOU ARE AN AWESOME AUTHOR ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜YOU ARE AN AWESOME AUTHOR ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜YOU ARE AN AWESOME AUTHOR ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜YOU ARE AN AWESOME AUTHOR ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜YOU ARE AN AWESOME AUTHOR ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜YOU ARE AN AWESOME AUTHOR ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜YOU ARE AN AWESOME AUTHOR ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜YOU ARE AN AWESOME A...
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Well, you certainly took us for a trip. I was giving it rapt attention, Cookie. Can't say much about it, except that you've done a good job with the writing. I'm not sure about the device you used, since it has no context to grab hold of and understand (the multiple deaths), and conveys meaninglessness. Perhaps that was your intention. There were minor problems with grammar, but nothing serious. Since you used first person, the author becomes the interpreter of the theme, as opposed to 3rd person where the characters do that. Something to co...
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This story's device, as well as every other story I've written on Reedsy, was more of an allegory to my life. The main character, although is male and I am not, is me in every way possible. The multiple deaths were a nod to some people that are/were in my life, that's why I put the little girl and the teenager over and over in the scenes. In many of my stories I've had my 1st, 2nd, and 3rd person a little mixed up. I can say though, I am working harder on my tenses and the pronouns that I use for my characters. Thank you for your input on ...
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No, Cookie, I did not say that it had no meaning, but that the theme (meaning) seemed to be meaninglessness of life, or the needless death, violence, conflict...Other writers have expressed this concept in different ways. Of course, I would not know how it relates to you, since I don't know you and it was--as you say--a kind of parallel (allegory). No one actually dies violently over and over (unless you were indicating reincarnation, and I considered that), so the closest approximation I could make is the emotional effect of it happening to...
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Ahh I see where youbare coming from. As the reader of my story, it did not connect with you. To be completely honest, I was a little shooken by your comment, probably because I took it the wrong way. It was the way you said it that didn't sit right with me. I feel that anyone who comments their professional and leisural opinion on my story should see the storty from all angles and be respectful if something does not make sense. It just felt wrong in a way. But now that you've explained it, somewhat, I understand what you are saying. Followi...
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Cookie, I did not dislike your story, but merely sensed that what I may have gotten out of it was not what you had intended, putting in. Even when people talk, it is not certain most of the time that true communication (in a literalist sense) has taken place. For example, Lizzy just critiqued my last story (read it over if you like) and made comments about meaning that I had not intended to put in. And I replied that this is the way it is: we are often inspired beyond ourselves and who is to say that anyone can definitively say what it mean...
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Of course🙏🏽🙏🏽 Thanks!!!
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Hey, can you give your feedback on my story " attached to a string" It's my first story I would love to hear your opinion?
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Of course!! Going now...
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The only story I see is "Viral Stories" OOOOOHHH my bad I see it XDD
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Whoa, the suspense in this story kept me reading till the very last line! This had a different vibe to it, and I loved it! Isn't it like he tries to help others but fails and has to relive the moment again? Sort of till he gets it right or something similar to that? The words and sentences you've used really are powerful, and you did a marvelous job here! Great going!
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Yes this story was an allegory to my personal life. I find myself trying to help everyone I can but end up failing every time so this story really hit home for me. Thank you so much for reading my stories!! Feel free to comment on any of my stories at any time!! And I'll make sure I go check out your stories today too!!
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Really? That is so relatable! I really like the way you wrote it, because I (and a lot of other people) can relate to it, too! Sometimes, I try to do something good, but it gets misunderstood. No problem! And thank you so much!! :D
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:DDDDD
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:DD
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Would you like to take my writing quiz? Here: https://forms.gle/yJjUqZHczPbtASCF9
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Sure, I'd love to do it! :)
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😂😂 Thank you!!
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I'm goood!!! You?
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I'm doing a collaborative with Akshara rn and I just started writing it today. Other than that I haven't been really "motivated" to write like how I used to so I haven't been posting as much.
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wow this is so great
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Thanks
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This is such a compelling story, raw, powerful, and real. Clear as glass but still sharp and stingy. You have an amazing talent for writing, especially when it comes to the emotion. The emotion is just so perfect with the words, and it flows through your mind like a surging river. I can tell this has a lot of effort into it, and I love your writing! Beautiful piece :)
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Omg thank you so much!!! Everyone keeps saying I'm too dramatic but I don't really think so :DD I'll go check out your story too!!
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Oh. EVERY DAY IS THE SAME! This is from the Adir story, right? Oh my gosh I thought they were peaceful protests before but someone lost it and sent this guy into a time loop. Freaky. THIS NEEDS TO BE HEARD.
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Yes everytime he died he woke right back up at the protest. Yes this was a version of the trilogy in the future... Although I didn't want to add to the series I needed a purpose for the protest. I guess you can say this story was written in the times we are in right now. It eez what it ezz😂😂
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I don't know what ezz is
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JN-b88RB0Uw
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Oh
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For those who don't quite know this yet, this story is kind of a continuance to the Adir Trilogy I wrote. Although it is not a part of the series, it holds some events that happened during that time. This is why you may see mentions of Noah Adir in the protest. Anyways, carry on my loved ones <33
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Woah. This was so beautifully written. I have read your Noah Adir series, but it may be a bit confusing to readers who haven’t, you may want to disclaim this in a comment. But other than that, just...wow. This was powerful and the pacing was a touch off, but I didn’t mind much. Well done, and please keep writing!
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Thank you for reading my storyyyyy!!! What part was confusing?? I need to know exactly what I'm commenting about.
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Just the fact it seems to be a follow up the the series, so if readers don't know about the series it may be confusing.
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Just the fact it seems to be a follow up the the series, so if readers don't know about the series it may be confusing. But no problem!
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K!! I think I put a comment on here saying "Noah Adir" was part 1 to my trilogy and "Justice for Adir" I put read previous parts in the comments.
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Oh wait I see what you mean. I didnt know what story I was commenting from nvr mind tht I see now XD
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Haha, no problem!
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Like the best war reportage...Very well done!
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Thank youu!!!
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Would you like to take my writing quiz? Here: https://forms.gle/yJjUqZHczPbtASCF9
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Done and done!
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I really like it! When I first read it, it was confusing, but now I understand. There's nothing I have to complain about. Good job!
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YAYYYY!!!! Thank youuu!!!
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Hey! This was chilling, especially the sense of inescapable hopelessness that comes with it, doomed to relive the same moment time and time again (and doesn't it feel like that in real life too, sometimes!) It feels a bit like purgatory. Perhaps if there was a hint that there was some way she could break the cycle that would make for a more hopeful ending? But it is, of course, your artistic decision. Great job, well done :)
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I totally see where you're coming from. My story had a hopeless ending, which was my intention, and it did seem kind of sad. Thank you for reading my stort and leaving a comment!!!
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Wow, like an odd dream you're unable to wake from. Reliving or living through other's perspectives possibly. I didn't feel like it had a cohesive release like a story would. It did explore the feelings and moments of this one event (or several iterations of it) in a really interesting poetic style. I'd say well done with that.
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Another person had the same thoughts as you did so I'm not surprised... Thank you for reading and leaving a comment!!!
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This is so powerful and so well done. Please keep writing!
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Yes! I must keep writing!!! Thanks for the comment!!
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Your story was very interesting. I liked how it started right away in the action. It caught my attention and made me want to keep reading.
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Thank you so much!!!
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Didn't I already get a cookie from you???😏😏 Ill still add it to my bio anyway!!
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Haha yeppers you did! XDD
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Would you like to take my writing quiz? Here: https://forms.gle/yJjUqZHczPbtASCF9
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Yass definitleyyyy
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Hey can you give me feedback on my newest story?
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Sure!! I'm a tad busy answering comments but if I don't read it by tomorrow afternoon you can yell at me😁😁
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Did I ever read your story??
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I’m wondering when she’ll choose to run away and escape the madness!
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My main character's a he but I feel you on that one😂😂
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Oh, sorry about that! I didn’t notice any gender references so I just guessed!
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