The Chronicles of Gimp (Edited version)

Dear Brothers,

Here is a story I wrote for my creative writing class. The assignment was to develop a character. So i did, heavily based on me Enjoy

elscribe


David Blundell

The Chronicles of Gimp

Klingon Proverb: “Pa’ ghati ghobe’ quv Daq’, There is no honor in self-pity.”
Life really can really take a toll sometimes. You feel like you’ll collapse if you take another step. No pun intended. Things seem to pile on top of you so that you feel like a suffocated Tribble. Sometimes you wish you could be beamed out of the suburban apocalypse you call your life.
That was the feeling I got…again…one day in late August. The sun was beating down as usual, causing me to sweat profusely as I rolled down a cracked and well-used sidewalk. My chair was once again in its never-ending state of brokenness, and my engine whined constantly as if it were C-3PO. I arrived at my destination, the local food mart as the sun began to falter slightly at four o’clock in the afternoon. Han Solo in the falcon would be hard pressed to beat the time I had just made it from my house to the mart, I thought to myself gleefully. There I go geeking out again…
Wheeling myself into the mart, I was refreshed from the sweltering heat outside by air conditioners that flooded the mart with a breeze akin to paradise on a day like this. A cool feeling enveloped my substantial girth, as I made toward my most frequented aisle. A gaggle of giggling girls from my high school passed me by, not even acknowledging my existence as they strode down the aisle, their manicured bodies glistening in the artificial light. Being at belly-button level had its advantages, at least.
Halting at the candy aisle, I smiled as my eyes purveyed the luscious Mars Bars and Twinkies. Looking up at the rows upon rows of unopened bars, I swore under my breath. Typical! My favorite bar, Milky Way, was just inches out of my reach. I fervently wished I were force-sensitive. You will come down; I thought at the bar, waving my hand frantically; but it just stayed where it was as if mocking my attempt to claim it.
Settling for the M&M’s that were just below the Milky Way, I hurried to the checkout counter. A middle aged woman was right in front of me in the checkout line, her glasses almost slipping off her prominent nose. I struggled to retrieve the money that was in the back pocket of my shorts. The woman turned to me and saw that I was having trouble retrieving it. Snatching the bag of M&M’s from my deformed hand, she slapped it on the counter and pulled a dollar from her own wallet. “I’ll pay for that, enjoy these!” she said, trotting out of the mart before I could thank her.
The man behind the counter shrugged and passed me the candy bag. Crashing into the door angrily, I rolled out into the still-blazing heat. Why do people do that? I thought angrily to myself. I realized that she was trying to be kind, but sometimes I wish people wouldn’t be so generous to me as they are. Glancing at the disabled spaces outside the mart, I glared at the white figure etched into each of the blue signs. Not all of us have a big ass like that!
Words soon began to whirl around in my head like a hurricane of insecurity. I screamed to God, wishing that he would hear my bitter cries. I wished I could be a Kirk, destroying foes left and right. I guess it was not meant to be. Anger still raged through me as I rambled on down the road, thinking of bubbles and stars. The only consoling thought that ran through my mind as I gazed out at the pink sky was that a Stairway led to heaven….