I voted for this post-apocalyptic "Radioactive" cover to win Response of...

http://www.youtube.com/v/NydXD742t4E?autohide=1&version=3&autoplay=1&attribution_tag=S1GU1vuSAkm3wAnzimHIyQ&showinfo=1&feature=share&autohide=1

Short story that may go unfinished part 1

Diary of Mr Jason Gardner.

Friday’s are half days. That’s why I was at the park mid afternoon that day, sitting on my favourite bench eating a muffin I had picked up from Costa on the way from work. I was just enjoying the sunny weather, and I knew that Molly would be picking up the kids from school. Every other week she takes them to MacDonald’s on the way home. It’s the only night I’m not the last one home.

That bench is not my favourite bench anymore.

The weather was starting to go cloudy and windy and the people were reluctantly beginning to file out of the big iron gates, which were clattering very loudly in the wind. For some reason I remember that noise specifically, and I shudder every time I hear chains now. I was just about to leave when a loud bark startled me. I looked to my left sharply and saw that a man and his dog had quietly sat down at the far side of my bench. Were it not for the barking I would have not known they were there. The man was wearing a black trench coat and hat. He turned slowly, and tilted his hat to me in acknowledgement. In front of us, some small children were being coaxed into their prams by parents eager to avoid the coming rain.

That was when I first saw little Haley. I saw both her and the man for the first time within about ten seconds of each other. She was toddling around, having just dismounted an airplane seater ride, and was pleading with her mum to go on the see saw with her. “mam ah want go on this!” she exclaimed, slapping one of the seats with her tiny hands in frustration. Her mother sighed and picked her up.
“No baby, come on. Or we’ll get wet won’t we? Look at the big clouds!” her mum picked her up, with Haley still moaning about the see saw.

“But mam”

“Haley! We are going now.” Her mum was forceful but not unkind. She spoke posh English even though her daughter sounded very northern. I got a vibe of modern English young mum from her. While this was happening, a baby boy in a pram behind them near the swings started crying. He was pointing frantically in my direction but was blubbering and couldn’t speak yet even if he tried. The mum hurried over to him, putting Haley down as she stooped into the pram to comfort the little boy. The man behind the pram, presumably the father, scratched his head sheepishly. “Wow, Kath he was fine a minute ago.” He said, looking baffled. “I dunno why he’s upset.”

“Well you could help out and check why! He may need changing.”

“Aww Kath I’m sorry I was day dreamin’.” He had long hair and sandals, a kind of hippy look that I took a dislike to. They continued bickering and I tuned out. All the while I realised that while this was happening, the man had slide up the bench and was now sitting very close to me. He lifted up his hat brim and grinned. His eyes were pale blue, yet shone with a piecing light that seemed unnatural. His grin was maniacal. It was something like the joker from Batman, but without the makeup and made me cringe back without thinking. He laughed loudly. “Do I scares ya a bit sir?” he asked. His accent appeared Cornish, but for some reason the dialogue that I had found impishly charming in the past sent shivers up my spine when it came from this man. But I kept my head.
“No, but would you mind moving a bit further away from me? Personal space?” I tried to say it in the most polite way possible but I snapped the last bit, eager to be rid of his presence. The man nodded sagely, and held up his hands in apology. “No ‘fence meant sir.” He said, laughing through horrible yellow teeth as he drew back a few feet. The dog growled deeply. I flinched and it barked. It was a horrible looking dog, huge like a great dain but more wolf like than any other canine I’ve seen. Its fur was pure white, but dirty with black at the paws and its eyes were bloodshot and empty. They didn’t have pupils, so I assumed the poor thing to be blind. But my sympathy did not encourage me to pet it or be near it otherwise. I straightened from my cowering. “Sir, please control your dog. I do not wish to be barked at.” I said calmly, addressing the man full on. He had moved down the bench but turned again to face me. The dog turned its head towards the pram..

“Scare passers by sir?” he asked innocently. “Or just scaring you sir?”

“Well, both if you like.”

“Ah sir, we sees a bit ah honesty coming from the lofty lawyer now does we?” How he knew I am a lawyer I do not know. “Shame ain’t more like you in your field sir.” He was showing that crazy grin again. I entertained the idea that he had broken out of some sort of asylum nearby. But where was the dog? I turned away:
“That’s hardly your place to say sir, thank you. Goodbye.” I had had enough and was getting up to leave when horror struck.

The man patted his dog’s head and started whispering to it. The dog’s nose was pointing in the direction of little Hayley and her brother in the pram. I do not know what the master whispered, but the dog was becoming more and more aggressive. It was barking and growling ferociously now. The family were beginning to walk off, Hayley toddling ahead as excitable children do, when the man unhooked the chain leash the dog had been wearing from around its head. It leaped towards Haley. I swore aloud and shouted to the family. “Look out!” I screamed, running towards them, suddenly knowing the dog and owner’s intention. The parents turned to stare and me. “Your daughter!” I yelled, pointing at the dog. The dad, understanding and horror dawning on his face, dashed round the pram and after his daughter. But he was too late. The dog was already there. A naive innocent Haley was looking at it running towards her. She was so afraid she started crying. I heard her shout daddy and try and run towards her father.

With the faintest of noise, the dog picked her up and disappeared. He literally vanished into the mist, taking Haley with him. I turned behind me to yell at the owner, but I just caught him vanishing too. The wind carried one last maniacal joker laugh of triumph and glee. The mother fainted.

Police post-mortem examination of Hayley Fowler.

DOB: 22/03/10

Date and time of death: Approx 8:30pm 04/10/13

Large bite marks and wounds cover body. Throat has been torn out. Pupils dilated but lot of head missing. Left leg also missing. Amputation occurred post mortem. Died  of suffocation due to throat being torn. Paw print on leg.

Constable Black, police report to Sergeant Dawkins.

Incident: Murder

Date 04/10/13

After some hours of searching the local area, the body of 3 year old Haley Fowler was found clumsily buried in some mud under a tree in Hoffel woods, county Durham. There was no sign of the dog or man mentioned by the witnesses. The post mortem examination has confirmed that it was the dog that killed her; there is very little chance these injuries were inflicted by a human. From the sound of witness accounts (see overleaf) the dog was goaded and deliberately set on the child.

Diary of Mr Jason Gardner

I can’t sleep. It’s 2:00am in the morning and I’m wide awake, like I’ve had an espresso injected into my bloodstream. Two days have passed since the incident. It was all over the local paper yesterday morning, and even made it into The Guardian. Molly has been very concerned about me. Apparently when I came home, four hours late having gone to give a statement to the police, I was white as a sheet and she had been desperate with worry. The police had called her some time before, explaining the situation and why I would be late. I think if anything this made her worry more. As soon as I walked in the door she ran and hugged me, fussing over me and asking if I was alright. I just stood there silently, took off my shoes and sat down on the couch. It was pitch black outside and the sitting room was lit by two lamps. I remember sitting on the edge of the couch next to one, trying to keep my whole body in its light. I asked Molly to switch the overhead light on. Usually I find overhead lights glaring and a reminder of the office, but today the light warmed my heart with relief and a feeling of safety. Then I just broke down, and wept. Molly held me close. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, tears on her own flushed cheeks.

“I don’t think so.” I said, choking slightly. “I don’t know.” I didn’t say anything for the rest of the evening after that. The kids, Luke and Isabel, had come down and sat on the stairs when they heard me come in. They came and sat in the sitting room. Isabel was always one of those kids who ask questions constantly. “Why you s two crying?” she asked, her 3 year old face looking at us with naive innocence. I wondered if she had ever seen us cry before. Molly wiped her face and smiled at her.

“We are crying because we are happy, little one.” She said. “We are happy that Daddy got home safe and sound tonight.” Isabel smiled happily.

“Daddy!” she said and jumped on my knee heavily. Even in my state of shock, I could not help but wince and smile at the same time. Luke was still on the other side of the room. At the age of 8, I don’t think he was buying the story that mum and dad were crying out of happiness. Molly beckoned him over and gave him a cuddle. I felt so much better, having my family close. I believe this is how a father can do it, how he can work hard all day and come home still smiling, because he knows his children are waiting for him. At that moment, I’d never been more grateful for my wife and children.

I haven’t slept much since then sadly. The normal house routine has been maintained, and so the kids have not been affected as far as I can tell. Even Luke, the more perceptive of the two, seems to have let the incident go. At dinner he was getting very excited about some ex football player who is coming to the school to do P.E lessons for a week. I don’t know where he gets his interest in football from. I’ve never really been into it. Maybe it’s his friends. Anyway, Molly has been worrying more and more. She’s sound asleep now and I won’t wake her. Perhaps I will be able to join her in that peaceful state. May as well try.

Later

There is no chance I am sleeping again anytime soon. The man is in my dreams. Him and that bloody dog of his. I saw the incident again in my head, only this time it was Izzie being attacked. I had to scurry down the hall as soon as I woke up to check on her. But there she was, just as she should have been, in her bed with the rail on one side sleeping soundly. As I looked in on her, she whimpers slightly in her sleep, as if she is having a vivid dream, but otherwise she is fine. I sighed with relief and with my hands still shaking made my way downstairs for a glass of water. Now that I’m back upstairs I feel fatigue starting to grip me, perhaps I will be able to sleep now.

Personal Diary of Janet Walker: Secretary to Mr Gardner

Philip was round last night, over the last few weeks we haven’t spent a night apart, except one time when he went to visit his grandmother in hospital and stayed at his parents! It’s been amazing though! I think he has been a bit upset about his grandma being ill recently, but he says that being with me has really helped. I’m glad he sees it that way. I was afraid he would start shutting me out when I heard about this. A lot of my exes did that kind of thing. But if anything he’s been closer to me than ever, and that’s something I appreciate. I don’t like playing games with that sort of thing.

Mr Gardner has been out of the office all week. He’s usually in everyday, I don’t think I’ve ever known him to be sick in all the time I’ve been his assistant. Usually now his eyes would be scanning down his appointments list, asking me about various clients and if there had been any calls. His brown hair has always been well combed and neat, his eyes bright and alert. He’s slightly taller than average but seems taller because he never stooped.  But today he walked in quietly, late by about 3 hours, and sat down behind his desk. His hair is messy, his appearance haggard. The man looks like he has aged about 20 years in the last few days. The eyes look red with tiredness, although maybe he had been crying. When I first saw him I felt quite shocked.

A client had been waiting in his office for about 30 minutes already and I got up to brief him and see him in. I explained to him the situation and he merely nodded mutely. Usually he was full of energy, his brain working at a thousand miles an hour taking in everything I told him then throwing it back at me with a bad joke at the end. They are terrible jokes but they always made me smile, and the silence seemed all the more heavy with the absence of this daily ritual. I saw him into the office, where he dismissed me, mumbling if I could get him and myself a coffee after the meeting to pep him up. He managed a weak smile of gratitude as I agreed, trying to make my voice sound bright and bubbly, as if I hadn’t noticed the difference in him this morning.

Later

On my lunch break I went outside for a bit of a walk and to call Phil on the phone. He didn’t have much time to talk, as he had to take a chunk out of his lunch break to go see his grandma and had to get back to the office, but I think he appreciated my calling. It was nice to hear a comforting voice. Mr Gardner’s behaviour had made me feel on edge all morning. When I brought him his coffee he seemed a bit more relaxed. I tried to encourage him to talk. “Did the meeting go ok?”

“Yeah, we’re ready for them.” He smiled slightly. “I’m feeling pretty confident. It will go to court Thursday.”

“Great.” I put his coffee on his desk and sipped mine slowly. Outside it was bucketing it down, the sort of rain more often associated with a monsoon than the normal British drizzle. I’d only just missed it coming back in from lunch. It gave the office a warm feeling though, a comforting feeling. I think Mr Gardner was feeling it too, as a lot of the colour was coming back into his cheeks. He leaned back in his chair. “So any plans this weekend Janet? Phil’s grandma doing ok?”

“She’s not looking too great to be honest.” I shrugged. “We will probably go up to Phils folks’s place and stay there. Be a bit closer and that.” He nodded.

“Ah, well I hope you guys are ok. Try not to be too sad.” He grinned. “They ain’t got a cure for that yet. Only bad jokes.”

“And there I was thinking I wouldn’t have to endure one today.” I rolled my eyes, but laughed too. This was more like the usual boss. He was about to open his mouth to go on when he stopped, his face frozen and ashen. He was as white as a feather. It scared me a bit.

“Um are you ok sir?” I asked, tentatively. He got up and ran to the window, so suddenly I actually yelped a bit.

“Do you hear that?!” he hissed, his voice verging on sheer terror. “Did you hear that?!”

“Hear wha-!” he shushed me.

“Whisper, don’t let him hear us!” In the distance I could hear a dog barking. The sky had gotten a lot darker quite quickly, and that combined with Mr Gardner’s return to his old demeanour made me nervous.

“Sir, I-“

“Shhhh. For God’s sake be quiet.” He hissed, staring out the window. “Can’t you hear him?!” I couldn’t hear anything except the pattering of rain against the window. Mr Gardner scrambled into the corner of the room, huddling in the foetal position. Slowly, he raised his head slightly and peered out of the window down into the street. I looked out, trying to find what he was focusing on. The street looked relatively busy, with people moving quickly due to the rain. Umbrellas covered a lot of the pavement, making it difficult to make out anyone’s face.  There was one man looking up at our building. I couldn’t make out much of his face but he appeared to be old, and grinning. Something about that look made me feel cold inside. I didn’t want to return it but couldn’t resist looking at him. Beside him, a huge wolf like dog was barking savagely, twisting and turning on the chain leash the man was holding. I reasoned that this must have been the barking we heard earlier. Had we been standing close to the dog, I could have expected a shocked reaction from Mr Gardner, as I know I would have screamed had I been there. But to cower in the corner just because of barking...perhaps he has a huge fear of dogs I don’t know about?

I crouched down next to him, and reached for his hand. He jerked back at first but let me take it. “Sir, what’s wrong?” I asked, “are you afraid of dogs? Is the barking affecting you like this?”

He shook his head. “ No, well yes but...” he breathed. “It’s that dog, that one, that frightens me.”

“Why?” The dog and owner turned and walked slowly away, not before the man titled his head in acknowledgement of us. Mr Gardner looked up at me.

“I was in the park, and that fucking bastard set that monster on a little girl.”

Extract from Local Newspaper

A man has been mauled to death last night in Newcastle central after having left a restaurant with his girlfriend to return to their home. Phillip Seward was leaving the restaurant Cappollo’s with his partner, Janet Walker, when they were attacked by a “wolf like” animal. The incident happened in a back alley by Newcastle Train Station. Mr Seward apparently attempted to fend off the attack, but was overpowered by the dog and yelled at Miss Walker to flee. She was found crying and hysterical in the train station. The police have cornered off the road, and issued the following statement: “This was no accident. The witness was lucky to escape with her life. We believe that the dog was goaded by a man whom we have had a previous report of. He is old, very tall, has a cockney accent and tends to wear a black trench coat and top hat. The dog is a huge, white Alsatian like breed. We warn the public to steer clear and report any siting to the police immediately. Do not attempt to approach the pair. Keep children close to you at all times and do not walk around the city in small numbers at night.”

When asked what the police were going to do about it, Detective Harker stated that “we will be doubling patrols around the city, and we will also be examining CCTV footage for any signs of the man or dog in question. We urge anyone with information to come forward.” When asked if he could confirm that this case was related to the Hayley Fowler incident only a week ago, he simply responded, “Well what do you think?”

Janet Fowler is unharmed but currently being cared for by her family at home. Her brother John spoke for her. “We as a family are very sad at this loss, for we had accepted Phillip as one of our own. Our thoughts are with his family, who have been so good to us over the years. Janet is very distraught, but she is strong and I believe she will pull through."

Media Saturation - short rant

I have access to a lot of movies through various means. DVD, itunes, other legal places (cough) mean that we can all find a ton of films and other media to keep us entertained on a night in, or a day in if you’re a student. But don’t you just sometimes look at it all and still think something like “I don’t know what to watch,” or “meh there’s nothing here.” Users of Netflix will understand my point immediately. There you are with a £6 a month subscription to a server that allows you unlimited access to all the goodies it offers. Yet you still find yourself bored on a night, wondering what to watch.

There’s an idea in the field of advertising that suggest that something similar happened some time ago with adverts. We are ‘saturated’ with commercials and imagery telling us to buy commodities we often don’t really need or want, and as a result we have developed a kind of mental immunity to it all. A more practical example of this would that companies often predict a loss on television advertising these days, simply because they know that people ignore a lot of adverts on TV. Another interesting side point on this is that because that recording TV for later idea has pervaded the media through things such as Sky plus, a lot of the time people don’t even see these television adverts. So why do companies do them? Often, because they are afraid of what will happen if they don’t. Besides, there have been some very notable television campaigns recently. For example, everyone knows the “Compare the meercat” adverts from comparethemarket.com. I know there’s that whole argument “Yes people know the meercat but do they actually know where he comes from?” Perhaps not, but they only have to think about it for a few minutes before they realise what he represents, and hey presto the company is a house hold name. Also, if you google Meerkat, guess what comes up. That Meercat advert is not silly (well it is...but that’s what makes it good).

Anyway, the point is that media saturation is now occurring in other ways within the media, and this includes films. Funnily enough, I could watch Star Wars anytime in theory if I wanted to, but when it comes on TV, along with full on commercial breaks and that tedious business that is becoming predated, I suddenly love the idea of it and sit down to watch. There’s more novelty to your favourite movie coming on TV randomly, than to looking it up online and being able to find it whenever you want. The whole Star Wars franchise is something I consider in my top most loved films, and in theory I could see it every day. But why would I? I would get sick of it so quickly and then that would be that. I would lose a much loved childhood memory. As to how this applies to not being able to find anything to watch online, the novelty is exactly the point. Maybe on some level I don’t feel like I want to watch something just because I know I can watch anything I want anytime.

I guess there’s also that thing of being in your own little world and just not wanting to explore beyond it. Perhaps that’s my personal problem. I do like my action films and comedies, and I don’t wander out of those genres as much as I would like. Maybe I should scare myself more with horrors, or break my heart with dramas, but there’s so much to choose from. I’m staring at Netflix right now and just thinking where do I even begin. I know, I will just watch some romcoms to slip into drama from good old comedy...aha actually that comedy looks quite good...

The Night Out Phenomena

Everyone comes around for ‘pre drinks’ as us students call them (I’m a graduate but I still count). Chairs are pulled up in the sitting room, even though everyone mostly stands and chats. The evening tends to start by everyone catching up on events of the day or the week or whenever. 

“God my dissertation is killing me!”

“Me and Jack had another fight.”

“I got an essay due in the day after tomorrow, meh it will be fine!”

 That kinda stuff. Then comes the drinking games. As a friend of mine’s brother pointed out, these games actually regulate the drinking and prevent you from consuming a lot more alcohol than you would if you weren’t distracted by such a game (depending on the game in question, if you lose the result can be quite different). I see this as a positive. It means I won’t get so pissed I don’t make it out at all that night. A usual standard is something like Ring of Fire, or never have I ever. I’m sure a lot of students have heard of these games and practically everyone has heard of never have I ever. Sometimes other games are played, some more alcoholic than others. A classic I played as a student was Centurion. 100 shots of beer in 100 minutes, 1 shot a minute. Believe me, it’s harder than it sounds.

So you’ve had a few drinks, maybe you had to down a dirty pint after losing ring of fire, or you got lucky and a mate boldly shared the free drink with you (which is essentially what a dirty pint is, a drink doesn’t have to be nice). There’s that lovely feeling of tipsiness coming around. Maybe I shouldn’t worry so much. I can drink loads tonight. Everyone’s having a laugh. Hmm, that girl who I don’t really talk to is looking quite hot tonight...and so on. I’m not saying this is a negative, believe me. If a lot of people present are at a similar stage it can be great fun, although if you’re the only one you may look a bit foolish. But so far, the night is going well.

Everyone looks at the clock. 10:45pm. Time to get moving if we want to avoid those queues, everyone be ready to leave in 15 minutes! So after everyone having done a shot after some generous person distributed a spirit around the room, we stumble out the house at 11:30pm (we’re students, we are always late), and make our way into town. Now frankly, anything can happen. This stage isn’t easy to describe, partly because I don’t remember some of them but also because anything can happen really. Sometimes you have one of the best nights of your life just dancing with your mates, other times you wake up the next morning with a stranger in your bed. Maybe some arseholes will mug you for your pizza on the way home (bastards). Or maybe everyone has a fight and there are tears. It can go pretty much anyway, and almost anything can happen.

The next day is generally post night out analysis. People gather in various sub groups and discuss the events of the night.

 “Such and such as definitely flirting with you.”

“God wasn’t he/she sooo drunk?!”

“I’m so fucking hungover.”

“I have to call the club cause i lost my wallet”

 and so on. If there was drama or tears, this is usually the main topic, unless something crazy and random happened. “How did that road sign get in my room?” that kind of thing.

Anyway after this, everyone goes back, catches up on some work or attends a late lecture, before going back to their rooms that night and, feeling slightly sorry for themselves, puts on a movie and proceeds to fall asleep very quietly. This is unless you’re a first year in which case you may well go out again, or if you’re just feeling like a challenge. But either way, this night is now truly done. Onwards to the next one!

Perhaps I sound like a grumpy old man writing this, but I’m just cynical. I do in fact enjoy most nights out I go on quite a lot. Hell yeah ;).

A review of London from a wannabe Northerner

I’ve never seen people get quite so passionate about public transport. There I am having just gotten off the train at Kings Cross, spared a small smile for platform 9 and 3/4s and I walk past, only to walk down to the underground and find myself smothered by half of London. Of course it isn’t really half of London, it’s probably not even a 100^th. There’s so many people down here it’s unreal. I get on the Hammersmith and city line, and find myself pressed into the closed door, having to squish myself into the small amount of room available. I’d already waited for 3 trains to go by, all packed to the brim, but eventually even the most patient person gets fed up. I had to chance it, and so ended up this position, with a woman’s phone in my face as she struggles to bring it up in front of her to look at her facebook feed. Not the time to check your phone thanks.

I finally get off at Bethnal Green, after having changed to the central line, and walk up Roman Road to the flat I’m staying in. The flat is nice, and I settle down, grabbing a glass of water and watch some TV. The water tastes horrible, so I change for orange juice. Sorry guys, but the north definitely has you beat on water. Oh, I’m from Durham by the way. That’s kind of why I’m writing this.

So I start applying for jobs and so on. I get some interviews but sadly have not progressed into work quite yet. On my travels to various interviews and classes, I have noticed that there is a hell of a lot going on. There’s so many restaurants, one of which I go to with the family and does amazing pizzas. The name escapes me but if I remember it I will tell you all to go there. The theatre down here is pretty amazing too. I haven’t seen anything since moving down here, but on a visit at Christmas I saw Phantom at Her Majesty’s theatre, again with the family. I was blown away. Sorry, but you do not get acting like that up north from what I’ve seen. The food down here is pretty amazing too. It’s so easy to get hold of fresh produce and so on, although this is compensated by the air being incredibly polluted.

You would be amazed at the cultural differences between the north and the south. Up north, people are white. That’s mostly it. I know we live in modern times but if a Londoner went up to the North East I’m sure they would be struck by the lack of diversity compared to London, a city that really is a melting pot. Not that I’m saying the north is racist or anything, but it’s certainly noticeable. London’s reputation stretches very far and it is a bigger city, so perhaps that’s why it attracts more internationals? Have to say though, telling Spanish people you are from Newcastle is almost guaranteed to be met by a Mediterranean “Howay then!” Even in Vietnam on my recent travels, some Vietnamese recognised both London and Newcastle. Funny that. I really don’t know why.

I’m down here for three months until Christmas. It seems like a long time. London culture seems to be that lunch is a meal eaten out, and so far I don’t think I’ve actually had my lunch in the flat, save bringing the odd sandwich back. At the moment I’m looking for part time work to get a bit of money, and I’m realising I will need a lot of it in London. Prices really are higher, but this is not quite as extensive as people say. Fruit and vegetable seems to be mostly the same, although alcohol is definitely a lot more expensive (a change I was quite disgruntled about), but maybe this is why northerners are a bit more known for drink, because we can afford it.

I’m sure anyone who has lived in both the North and the South will tell you this, but they are really very different. It’s like another world down here. Everything is busier, everything is more hectic. Just going out the house seems more tiring. But it is more exciting in some ways, and there is definitely a lot going on. I haven’t made my mind up whether the North or the South is better, but I don’t think either one particular stands out. They are both great. Britain is great really, and although I feel homesick for the North, I do wonder what will happen to me in the South.