Not a Chapter- Should I continue this story?

Okay, so, after reading the story over, I realized it was way to repetitive, and boring. I want to write another story.

Do you like this story? Vote on the home page of this blog if I should keep writing this story, or if I should write a NEW and BETTER story.

Thanks,

Oh, and,

The new story will be funny. :)

I probably will start a new story anyway.

Chapter Six- Clarissa, More Than a Friend

After being up for about an hour, reliving my nightmare, I finally did my morning tasks and got on the cab to get to the coffee shop. I bought a newspaper and tucked it under my arm like every other day. A sudden thrill rushed up my spine when I neared towards the door. When the bell rang, I tingled with joy- joy, that seemed extremely unnatural to me. Clarissa bit her lip, like a teenager with a crush on some one would do. She smiled and the said,
"I was wondering if you wanted a kiss on the cheek.... I didn't get to offer you that last night." I tensed up suddenly, but then realized, I did want a kiss on the cheek. Before I could reply, my nightmare popped into my head. My brother. I missed him so much. It was all my fault tat he was dead. No one knew how he got killed, except for me, and it was all my fault. He died because of me. He was dead. My brother.
"I'm sorry. I should of realized you don't like me any more than you liked me before the date," she snapped me out of my trance.
"No, no, no! I do want you to kiss my cheek. I do like you more. Don't worry, I was just thinking about something." She seemed confused, but then smiled and neared towards me. She leaned over the counter and made a small peck of a kiss on the cheek. Butterflies. Bubbles. Sparks. All of my worries and fears phased out of my mind. She looked at me intently, obviously looking to see what I thought about what had just happened. I made a huge smile, and he laughed.
"What?" I said in a funny voice.
"Your smile is the most happy thing I've ever seen in one person."
"Well, you completely wrong."
"What do you mean?" She said sadly.
"Your smile is the most happy thing I've ever seen in one person." I said.
"Thanks. I love it when your nice and perky."
"Yah." That was all I could say. She walked over to another counter, and came back with a cup of coffee.
"I already made it for you. Just the way you like it."
"Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow." She smiled and waved as I left the shop. The bell rang, and I felt more complete than I ever had in the past two years.

Chapter Five- A Dream With a Possible Meaning

Everything was black and white. I was looking down upon the people as if watching a movie. I had no control of the situation in front of me. For all I knew, it was a movie.
A tall, lanky man with a worn-out black suit on, held a needle out in front of himself. Beside him, was a man strapped down to a chair. He was struggling to escape, and his mouth was taped shut. The lanky man trudged towards him and then whispered into his ear with a dry, raspy voice,
"This one..... this one will work. If not, you have been of great service. If it does..... your life will change. You will be a more important person in the world." The man in the chair jerked violently as the needle came closer, and closer towards his arm, and then eventually, in his arm. Then it stopped. He looked still. He looked dead. The lanky man picked up a pad of paper and flipped to a blank page, where he began writing notes. The lanky man, who seemed to be some sort of corrupt scientist, started putting tubes into the dead man. He put different fluids and liquids into the man. He started cutting the man. He started rubbing some sort fungus onto the man. The scientist pressed a button that made the chair and the dead man move towards a furnace. The scientist kept staring. Once the dead man got into the furnace, the scientist didn't even flinch. All he did, was write more notes. He then said aloud,
"Ice next." The scientist quickly walked over to the button he had pressed, and punched in the number fifty-six into a dial pad. On the opposite side of where the furnace was, another man strapped down to a chair came into the room. The scientist trudged towards the man, and whispered into his ear,
"This one..... this one will work. If not, you have been of great service. If it does..... your life will change. You will be a more important person in the world."
I got a closer look at the man strapped down to the chair, and panicked in my own nightmare. It was my brother. My already-dead brother.
I then awoke with my heart pumping like never before. I immediately looked at the clock. 5:23. I shivered at the thought of my brother, and the true reason why he was dead. The big secret of my life. The reason why I was never satisfied with my life. With my job.

Chapter Four- The Date

I uncomfortably stuttered out,
"I didn't know you liked Italian." She smiled as if I had cracked a cute joke.
"Yah, I do." She paused and looked deep into my eyes. "You know, you have two different colored eyes."
"Uhhhh..... No I don't." I laughed. Her eyebrow arose and she just shook her head.
"What?" I questioned. She stared at me intently as If I were missing the point.
"You never have any confidence in yourself. You never have any 'you' time."
"Its compli-" Before I could finish what I was saying, the waiter spoke,
"Here is your spaghetti, mam. And here is your chicken parm., sir."
"Mmmmmm....." Clarissa took a deep breath, and then took my hand. My tension tightened. She obviously didn't notice because she smiled even more. This was the first moment I had ever noticed her beautiful smile. Stop. I didnt have time to think about her, but her hair.... Stop.
"Is everything alright? Your food is getting cold." I managed to smile and nodded.
Once we were done eating we resumed our short conversation.
"Clarrisa, why do you like me?" She paused and replied,
"Your potential. Your spark of life that I see huddled beneath your suit and your job. Your real you." Your real you. My real me. Maybe I was more then a rich, fast food chain owner. She saw it in me. She saw my potential.
"Thanks."
"For what?"
"Everything Clarissa, everything." She made a questionable face, smiled and then told me she had already paid for the meal.
This was a very important day. I would start my quest on becoming my dream. I wasn't sure about my dream any more. I didn't know if I wanted to be president. I knew that I wanted to be something more, something bigger. Better. But what? Tomorrow I would start researching the odds and ends of everything. I would find the true me. I would find it for me. I would find it for Clarissa.

Chapter Three- Forgiveness

All night long I couldn't get to sleep. I felt so bad for what I had done to Clarissa. My whole night was spent awake, thinking about her. About how nice she was. About how nice she was to me. About the call she had made. During the night I had come to a conclusion to say that I was sorry. It took a true man to do that, at least, that's what my heart wanted. I felt like if I said sorry, everything would be better, but, I knew that the truth was a mile away. She wouldn't forgive me. She now knew how I felt. I obviously didn't like her, but that was exactly the problem. I didn't know how I felt about her. My life was to hectic to think about that.
I would of kept on thinking about her, until my home phone rang.
"Where are you? It's 8:15, Joseph!" I rubbed my eyes and yawned into the phone.
"Who's your boss? Hmmmmm....?" I yawned and continued, "I'm not going to be at the office today. At the meeting, tell them that your in charge for today. Improvise a pitch on why we need to build those eight buildings once again. It will be very easy. Trust me. Hmmmmmm......?"
"Yes. Easy. Let me see. Hmmm...-" there was a dramatic pause, "Yes, I can do that. I can be a very good boss for the day. See you tomorrow."
"Bye-" But he had hung up before I could say bye.
I called up the taxi company, and eventually a taxi came. I got dropped off at the coffee shop and thats when everything seemed to slow down. I opened the door and the bell rang. No 'Hey Jo-Jo!" No "Hola!" No "Ello Joseph!" No Clarissa.
"Hey, do you know where Clarissa is?" I said to the grungy boy behind the counter.
"Yah man. She, uh, moved in to her mothers house." Lie. Lie. Lie. She had told me 2 months ago, that her mother had passed away. Why had she suddenly become a liar? I was a smart guy, smart enough to know it was my fault that she 'left.' So, it was up to me to get her back. Even if it meant dinner with her.
"Thanks." I said to the boy. Before he could reply, the bell on the door rang. I turned around, and sure enough, it was Clarrissa. She scrunched her face, currled her back, and turned back around.
"Wait, Clarrissa, do you want to go to dinner tonight?" She stopped dead in her tracks. She sobbed angirly,
"You, you, hung up on me. You didn't even say, 'Sorry, but no', you just hung up!" I then lied,
"No, my cell phone died, and when I got home, it was to late for me to call you. I did really want to go to dinner with you." She blushed and then replied,
"What time are you free?"

Chapter Two- A day in the Life

6:45, I'm off to a late start like usual, but I always get to work on time. After I take a shower, and get dressed into the suit I always wear, I step onto my deck expecting the cab to already be waiting for me. Of course, the cab is there like usual. Its shiny yellow paint seems so dreary these days.
"The usual?" the raspy voice repeats from every other day.
"Yep." My simple reply is the only thing cheery about this cab. As I stare out the window and see all of the buildings pass by, I think about all of the things that lie in the heart of New York city. All of the other possibilities.
Its always been strange- having body guards lurk around me. Every morning, they follow the taxi to make sure nothing goes wrong. It even makes me, a grown man, quiver to think about why I would need body guards.
"I'll be waiting out here for you," the raspy voice says in a disconnected, unconcerned tone. I nod my head. Before I can even get to the door, one of the body guards opens the door for me. Again, I simply nod. I put 75 cents into the machine, and then grab today's news. I fold it and put it under my arm mechanically, and then head into the coffee shop. As the bell rings, Clarissa, a woman with short, brown hair, and the age of 39, smiles.
"Hey Jo-Jo!" She shouts excitedly.
"It's Joseph, Clarissa, not Joe, not Jo-Jo, but Joseph." She smirks off my grim reply and acts as if I have said nothing,
"Let me guess- coffee with hazelnut creamer? Oh, and a small kiss on the cheek?" She smiles widely, and I know for sure, that she really hopes that one day I'll say yes. I was never quite sure what she saw in me. The money?
"Yes Clarissa. That's the coffee I want." I felt sad about the way I treated her. Like she was no more to my life than the worker she was. She never stopped smiling, so, I never knew how she really felt. This time she spoke with less enthusiasm,
"That will be 2.71 with tax." I handed over the cash, and waited for my coffee. Once it came, Clarissa made an awkward smirk and then finished our little bit of chit chat,
"I'll talk to you tomorrow." She always made it sound like we actually talked. I left with my coffee in hand, and my newspaper under my arm, and listened as the bell on the door rang once again.
I got back into the cab, and began reading the headline,
"Woman Found Guilty of Murdering Husband". I shook my head and took a sip of my coffee. It took about 15 minutes to get there, and once again I got there early, three minutes early. 7:12, my new record.
Immediately people swarm over to me shouting about statistics, ideas, the gross this week so far, and meetings. I kept staring straight at the elevator, for my only destination was to make it to my office to do my daily things.
5 minutes later I got up to my office. The only person I allowed in my office in the morning was Mike. His usual fake perkiness was now disgruntled, and some what terrified. I personally didn't mind. It was always nice for a change, but, part of the reason why I was so successful, was because of my personality- at least when I had gotten the job.
"What's going on in your life, Mike?" His jaw jutted out, and he huffed and nodded, as if I was his son, and he was very disappointed with me. My head tilted like a confused puppy.
"Remember yesterday? When you dismissed what I had told you?" Since he was so agitated with me, I would put up a fight.
"Yes Michael. I do, Michael." His eyes scrunched up. He didn't like being called Michael.
"What is it, Michael?" He evilly smiled.
"When the rioters heard we were letting them off so easily, they told everyone else- all of the other rioters who didn't believe we would actually give up. Now they are threatening to pull the mat out from under us." His smirk prevailed as my eyes widened.
"Then tell them we were lying- that all we were doing was postponing the building. That we still are going to build." He really smiled this time. Why? He was on the board that voted for these eight buildings, other than that, my idea was very un-thought out. Lately I hadn't been thinking, just reacting.
The rest of the day rushed by, with people asking me questions, all at the comfort of my office. Everything was going fine, until my cell phone rang.
"This is Clarissa!" I was absolutely stunned, she had never talked to me outside of the shop.
"I was wondering if you wanted to get together some time..." In this moment, I did something so very cruel and unprofessional, that even I cringed:
I closed my cell phone with out a reply.

Chapter One: Another Life

"Errrr...... Well sir, we can't open up eight more Digga Burgers this month..... There have been riots at the building lots and many lawsuits against us."
In this moment my life seemed so dull. I, a man of age 42, a dream of reaching the title of president, was now the big wig of a junky burger joint called Digga Burgers. I can't see where I went wrong, where I took a left instead of the ever-so clear right. When my father had passed on, I didn't cry, until I thought about my life- the boss of Digga Burgers, about two years later. I missed my father, but when I had become this superior boss, I then realized who I was. A deperate forty-year old in need of fame. My father had told me many times, "Son, remember, it isn't fame, but passion." I had dismissed this many times, taking it in as a bunch of words, not an actuall thought or idea. Now I saw the meaning, but I was stuck. I was embedded into this company for forever. The company was initially owned by a succsessful buissiness man who owned every other leading fast food chain. I still envy his now-dead body, for he died in a terrible, accidental car crash. At the time, I had been a manager for a small pub because of my desperate need for money. I had my masters in buissiness, which got me no where until the day the previous boss died. I had picked up the crinkled newspaper and started reading,
"Hector Manning Dies in Terrible Car Accident." I couldn't read on. It was so sudden. So horrible. So oppurtunity-filled. After that day my life turned to the better and eventually leading up to me taking Hector's place as the Boss.
For about three months I was thrilled. Then my father passed away. I swore to never cry, but what type of promise to myself is that? My main reason to be sad, was his belief in me, and how I could become anything I wanted, but I was 40 then, and I knew that those beliefs were just words to cheer me up- to cheer up my young, gullabal believing self. But, there was still a part of myself that believed I could become president, but my hopes faded away when he died. I was now the boss of a fast food chain. How could I hope for anything? How could I hope for another life?
"Then we won't Matt, we just won't." Matt was obviously surprised by my reply because he simply nodded his head discouragedly and left the room.