A Metaphor of my Life

This is a story where the bad guy wins. It's not your typical story. Not one with a satisfying ending. I understand if you want to stop reading now, but you won't, because I have won.

12 and a half years ago the moon was bright and my life was dark. I sat on my fishing boat in the middle of a lake, somewhere in the middle of nowhere. I could see fish swimming around, but none of them would bite. When I reeled in my hook I realized that I didn't have any bait on the hook. I didn't have anything they wanted, that's why they weren't coming to me. A metaphor of my life.

12, 265 resumes submitted to various places and no calls back. I didn't have anything they wanted. I racked my brain for something more to add to my resume as I hooked a worm on to the hook and threw it into the water. Nothing came to mind.

4 years later I was back on that fishing boat, still casting my lines, waiting patiently for a bite and waiting not so patiently for a call from a potential employer. Eventually I felt a tug. I reeled it in and it didn't take too much effort to get whatever it was near the boat. Getting it into the boat was the hard part. It was a large black box, not too heavy, but extremely flexible so it kept getting caught on things. I considered just letting it go, but I was too curious not to bring it aboard. Even once I got it on my boat I couldn't figure out what it was, but, regardless, I still brought it home with me.

Annually for then next 5 years I went finishing in that same lake and I found the same suspicious material each time, though they varied in size. On the sixth year I didn't find any more, so I started to try to put the pieces together.

They didn't have holes or things protruding that showed they were an obvious puzzle, but one day, during my endless amounts of spare time in my mothers basement, I was able to stack them just right.

An unbelievable thing happened in that moment, like in the comic books that I am too old to be obsessed with. The black boxes merged and glowed and melted together, forming one giant box. I paused for a moment after it stopped its transformation. Nothing happened. I poked it. Still nothing. I left to go make a sandwich.

2 years later, the box still hadn't done anything, but I refused to throw it out. This was something cool I now had. A bait. Something to draw people to me. So I finally took the courage, sat down at my computer, opened a word document and for the first time began writing something that wasn't a resume. It was a letter. First to my local newspaper, then to the news station and then a scientific lab and then a university and finally even buzzfeed!

Everyone wanted to write a story on my mysterious box. But when the first people came to see it, it was that anchor from the afternoon news, it finally did something. It consumed her and the camera men and everyone else who had accompanied her. They were trapped in my own little world. I continued to trap people. Now my box isn't the bait to draw people in, its the hook that catches them.

It's been about half a year now, I basically control the world. My box has developed new abilities. It can track down and trap people all over the world. No one dares defy me anymore, for risk of receiving the fate of eternal darkness, trapped, in the box. I truly enjoy my box and you truly enjoyed my story, because if you didn't, you can go in my box.

Source - Anon
A Metaphor of my Life A Metaphor of my Life Reviewed by Kanthala Raghu on January 11, 2017 Rating: 5

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