《Short Stories by Regan Brooks》Growing Up
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Childhood means something different to each generation. I usually think of these periods as 10-15 years. I was born in the middle of 1990 and to me, thinking of childhood brings back memories of riding my bike all over my small town, playing football in a friend's front yard, and making my own fun in general.
In the late 90s and early 2000s, it was a near-mythical time where video games weren't yet an addiction, cell phones were still mostly for adults, and social media just...was not a thing, aside from AOL instant messenger and Yahoo chat rooms. Looking back, it seemed like a simpler time. There wasn't much to worry about. There never was, as a kid.
The nostalgia I have for this era almost makes me disappointed that kids growing up currently won't have these experiences. Experiences like searching for your friends on a warm summer vacation day. Riding around the various blocks, looking for a pile of bicycles in a front yard and knowing that meant exactly which friends were inside the house.
Kids today will never know the nervousness or embarrassment of calling a friend's house and having to ask one of their relatives if they were available to play or talk. Or the anxiety of calling your crush and getting their parent on the line. In an age where children have their own smartphone, they can talk to exactly who they want to on the first try. They don't need to knock blindly on someone's door to see if they're ready to go. There's no need to look around the neighborhood to find your friends. With Google, they don't even need to rack their brains to think of a fun game to play.
Childhood means something different to those growing up currently, and I've realized that's just fine. With so much that's changed in nearly 30 years, not everyone's experiences will or should mirror my own. I don't understand what being a kid in today's world means to them, just as they couldn't understand the full impact of being one in my time. It would be an unfair comparison because they're apples and oranges at this stage.
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Every once in a while I catch myself thinking, 'Kids these days,' but have to remind myself, I don't know why they do what they do because I don't have those shared experiences to fully understand. Just because I don't understand, doesn't automatically make it bad, I just think back to days gone by and smile. All I can really say is that I enjoyed growing up and that's all that should really matter, to me.
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This is not my story. My story was of a world I forged by my raw will, and of you, my children, forged of my dreams. That story has long since ended. Our world was not alone. Another deity came from beyond my sight, and despite our resistance rent our world asunder. In the end, all was lost and you were gone. That I survived your passing is a testament to the cruelty of existence; I cannot forgive existence for the monstrous crime of making me go on without you. This is the story of a new world, forged by the hands of fools. That it is made from the bones of that which I most hated will bring this place no absolution. In the fullness of time, I will seize the reins of this new narrative, and I shall end it. You are lost to me, my children. I will make a funeral pyre of all reality for you, and be with you in oblivion after all. --- DocSumac here. This is a story that has been rattling around in my head for years. It's not complete, but I'm not going to let it haunt me anymore. I'm uploading what is ready, and I'll add more as I can. --- Addendum May 20, 2020: I've added the Sex tag. Not because of actual smut, but becuase of what will probably devolve into an ongoing parade of dick jokes. No point denying my nature.
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Stranded
When a zombie apocalypse breaks out whilst Bella is still at school, she decides to stay, unlike her friends who are risking their lives and fleeing. But has she made a mistake? Will she find a group and will they have to fight to survive together? Or will it all be over too soon?
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