Posted by Sawney Beane on July 12, 2007 at 23:43:04:
The Collected Works of Sawney Beane: Volume #115
LIVE LIKE THERE'S NO TOMORROW
by Sawney Beane
7 September 2004
1,123 words
DISTRIBUTION NOTICE and DISCLAIMER: Sawney Beane requests that any distribution of this work of fiction remain within the realm of social responsibility. This story is suitable neither for minors nor for the seeming majority of adults who have difficulty distinguishing fantasy from reality. It is pure fantasy, which means that, for whatever reason, someone has found it interesting to think about the events depicted herein. It does not in any way mean that the author would like to see this fantasy become reality, so if you are the type of person who might be swayed into doing something irrational by reading a work of fiction, the author respectfully requests that you decline to read further.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Sawney Beane, originally a native of Edinburgh, lived for twenty-five years in a cave on the coast of County Galloway, subsisting on the flesh of unfortunate travellers, roughly a thousand of them all told. He and his wife raised a large family of eight sons, six daughters, eighteen grandsons, and fourteen granddaughters. Eventually, the family was captured, and the whole lot was brutally and unjustifiably tortured and executed without trial. Since his death in the early 17th century, Beane has reformed his ways and now confines his atrocities to his literary endeavours.
WARNING: This story contains discussion of institutional snuff and cannibalism. If you find such things offensive, please steer clear; you have been warned.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: As with so many of the stories that I think of and wait a few weeks or more before writing down, this one disappoints me. The concept as I conceived it seemed very nice, but the execution does not seem to come up to my expectations.
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"Jesus, Becky, I can't believe my slaughter date is only ten days away!"
"I'm so sorry, Amy."
"I have so much I have to do before...um...you know...."
"Yes, I'm sure you do."
"Christ, my history final is in five days!"
"Hold on, don't tell me you're actually taking those tests!"
"Of course I am, I have just three more exams to get my degree."
"Amy, why the hell do you care, you're going to be someone's dinner in a week and a half!"
"Becky, please don't remind me. It makes me queasy every time I think about it."
"Sorry, but it's true, Amy; why are you wasting time studying for tests at a time like this?"
"I have to; I don't want to fail and have that on my record."
"Believe me, they're used to this; they make allowances for people who've been snuffed. You won't fail, and anyway why does it matter?"
"I don't know, it's just so hard; you can't understand until it happens to you."
"It did happen to me."
"Becky, what are you talking about?"
"My number came up the same day as yours; my slaughter date is the same as yours."
"My god, Becky, that's awful!"
"I know, but you just have to make the best of it."
"What did Brad say when he found out?"
"Well, he was pretty upset, of course; we were planning to get married in a few years, but now all that's off of course. How's Matt taking it?"
"Oh, he was sympathetic and quite broken up about it, but I've barely had time to see him this week; I've had so much to do."
"You're kidding; what do you have to do that's so important? Brad and I are trying to fit our whole life's worth of sex into these two weeks. I think we're doing pretty well, but the poor guy can barely walk now. The only reason I left home this morning was to give him a break and a chance to recharge for this evening."
"I don't have time for that; I'm just swamped writing thank you notes. How can I have time for any fun?"
"Look, Amy, you've got to live your life like there's no tomorrow, because you don't have very many tomorrows. How many thank you notes are you writing anyway?"
"Probably around two hundred; there are so many people I have to thank."
"Jesus, I'm planning on writing like five, and I will probably forget to do even those. It's all a greeting card company scam anyway. Do you think I'm going to be thinking about thank you notes when that blade's slicing through my neck?"
"Oh, Jesus, is that the way they do it?"
"Most of the time, if you're going to be sold as parts, but they do it different ways if they want to keep you intact as a whole roaster."
"God, like the ones you see in the supermarket cases?"
"Yes, those."
"I hope they don't do that to me; can you imagine your family and friends seeing you in there like that?"
"Yes, it would be awful, but with the whole roasters they send you to the other end of the country to avoid all that."
"What about the parts?"
"Oh, if you go as parts you may be spread out over several dozen cities....actually, there's something appealing in that."
"Jesus, and your family may happen upon one of your parts. Would they recognize your calf if it was served to them on a platter?"
"I don't know."
"This is just horrid to think about!"
"Yes, but Amy, how can you not know about all of this? We had a whole class about it when we were sixteen!"
"God, I know, but the picture of the man and woman on the title page of the book standing next to the carcass of another gutted woman hanging upside down from the hooks through her ankles made me throw up, and I never could read any further than that. It was the only class I ever failed!"
"Oh, I found it very interesting. Terrifying, of course, but just fascinating to think about."
"Sickening."
"Yes, a bit."
"It's not fair; why should we be picked?"
"That's all in the book you didn't read. There are too many people in the world, and the only way we can keep people from starving is to cull the population and use the flesh to feed people."
"Yes, I know, but why us?"
"Well, it has to be someone. They have studied the selection process very thoroughly and it's been certified by several different independent accounting firms that the process is fair and completely random."
"But, my brother got snuffed two years ago. Shouldn't there be only one from each family?"
"Well, you have six brothers and sisters, and the kill is up to 10% now, so it's pretty likely that at least one more of them will get snuffed too."
"If it's only 10% why do you think half of us should get slaughtered?"
"Well, it's 10% per year, and you have to survive six cullings before you're safe. Each year they select 10% of the people ages 20 to 25. So you get six chances to be selected. We did pretty well to survive the first three."
"I never realized it was so many."
"They have raised it a few times in the last few years, and they're talking about raising it again to 12%, not that we care anymore."
"No, I suppose not. I was so waiting for my twenty-sixth birthday party. I had it all planned!"
"Look, Amy, I have to be getting back to Brad now. Do try to live a little bit this week. You really shouldn't be messing around with exams and thank you notes."
"OK, Becky, I'll try. I hope we have another chance to talk before the...um...end."
"Yes, me too."
That evening Amy scribbled a personalized note onto her sixty-fifth thank you note. The printed inscription on the outer cover read:
As I prepare to depart from this life....
Inside the inscription continued:
....I want to express my gratitude
for all of your kindness and sincerity.
You have been very special to me.
I hope you live long and well
and that you will remember me fondly.
Amy's handwritten note read:
Dear Uncle Bob and Aunt Martha,
Thank you so much for all that you have done for me. I always enjoyed visiting you when we were kids, and I appreciate all of the gifts, advice, and good times you gave me.
Yours lovingly,
Amy
After she had signed her name to this morbid epistle, she paused to wonder what Brad and Becky were doing at that moment.