Huang Essay, Research Paper

english-creative writing

Julie and Huang: Together ?til the End

Twelve o? clock was harkened by the sounds of tiny angel trumpets. They sputtered a pre-recorded song that Huang thought he knew. He didn?t. The waiting room was quiet this late at night, with only the angel?s song and the sound of his stomach rumbling to keep him company.

The love he felt for Julie was such that it hurt to think about. Not a bad kind of hurt, but enough for Huang?s face to contort a bit. The fact that she was dead on the floor in front of him didn?t help much, either. She hadn?t died a painful death. Just a confused one. She hadn?t recognized the blade in her back before she died. Just a small prick. Her body was peaceful now. Huang moved in with his tools.

Julie aimed the gun with chilling accuracy. She swung it around when she heard Huang behind her, and had hit her marks without even so much as a second of hesitation. Huang was blown back through the window, landing on his car below. Julie smiled at this. Huang was an asshole.

The Button was pushed. The red one, with the Plexiglas cover. The button that said –PUSH ONLY AS LAST RESORT–. That button. Huang had kissed Julie before he had taken her hand in his and they had pushed it. The police outside never felt the heat of the rockets under the house. They were incinerated as the house pulled up from its moorings and lifted off into the atmosphere. They orbited earth in the small house until the gravitational pull yanked them back to face their fates.

Julie couldn?t understand the small Vietnamese man who stood behind the bulletproof glass. He was waving his arms and yelling something in his native language. Julie didn?t understand what he wanted. Then, when she felt the meaty arm around her neck and the knife in her back, she understood. She was dragged off into the alley. Her screams could not be understood by the small Vietnamese men who passed on the street in front of her.

The air was cold with a hint of gunsmoke. ?Wild? Will Johnson lounged in his rocking chair, his handlebar mustache stuck to his face with sweat. Huang, the man dead in the street, was attracting flies. He should have been building the railroad. Chinks had no business trying to get with white women. At least, that?s what Crazy Will Said. Huang had six bullets in his chest that agreed. Juliette straightened her bonnet and continued churning butter. She would miss her love.

Julie sat on the bed, looking at Huang?s poster of Farrah Fawcett. She sighed, looking down at her less-than-stellar chest. Huang came back into the room with a pair of Yoo-Hoos. He sat next to her, making the bed sag. He handed her the Yoo-Hoo, and they sat in silence. Huang?s emotions got the best of him and he kissed her. She kissed back. Then, Huang?s mom walked in.

The party was in full swing when their eyes met again. The last time that had happened, they had been in court, arguing over custody over their three children. Julie turned away, coldly. Huang took a defensive pose, and snuggled up close to his new, 23 year-old bride. He drank his bourbon. He chatted the vacuous chat that would kill him; suck the life out of him, like it did his marriage. He tried hard not to think about that now.

The dinosaur stalked by, it?s huge legs rippling with muscle. Julie held her broken arm, the bandages soaked through with blood, as Huang kept his gun trained on the beast. When it was far enough away, he fired at the base of its skull. The beast fell. He heard its death rattle as it sunk into the mud. What he did not hear, was the small group of raptors behind him.

They watched the blast together. They watched as it decimated the city. They watched as it came towards them. They kissed, dissolving into each other as they were turned to ash by the bomb. Scientists would find their bodies, frozen in passion for eternity, just days from then. By then, the war would be over and the hostages freed. If only they had found the bunker just feet away.

Huang looked at Julie. Rather, he looked at Specimen 2009. He held the jar in his palm, watching her writhe as the chemicals took effect. His shrink ray had worked. Later, after she was dead, he would gingerly lift her from the jar and pin her to his corkboard.

The mud was supposed to be warm. That?s what her manager said. But it was cold. Even the lights that surrounded the ring didn?t warm it. Julie jumped in, careful to keep her bikini dry. Huang hopped in the mud, his cape rustling in the breeze coming off the drunken crowd. The sign lowered. WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP COED MUD WRESTLING!! Julie lunged at her rival. Huang sidestepped, sending her into the ropes. Julie got up quickly, and Huang did not see her. He was grandstanding to the crowd. She took him down into the mud and held him there, just like it said in the script. What it did not say in the script, though, was that she would hold him there until he suffocated. That would teach him not to fuck with her. Of course, he wouldn?t have any chances to put that knowledge to good use, Julie noted as Huang?s body went limp.

USER2178 WANTS TO CHAT. ACCEPT? Julie clicked ?Yes? and her screen went white as she was transferred to a chat area. User 2178 typed: ?I read your profile. You seem hot. Wanna have CyberSex??

Julie signed off.

The Nazis goose-stepped with precision, not one out of step. Huang pressed his face up against the wires of the cattle car, trying to escape the heat of his surroundings. The car was pulling out of the station when he saw her. She reminded him of his gypsy mother. Except for her blonde hair. And the large swastika sewn onto her tan uniform. Mother never would have worn that. She looked over to his cattle car for a moment, and their eyes met. Then the train shuddered, and picked up speed. He was off to his fate, and she to hers.

?Get back in the car! The cops will pull us over!? Huang shouted, keeping his eyes alternately on the road and Julie, who was half out of the car; her top twisting in the breeze out of the sunroof. The moon was coming up, giving off enough light that they could still see each other without the aid of dash lights. Huang looked up at Julie, at her long slender legs, and her stone-washed cut offs. This was the last summer before college, and they had decided to make the most of it. Next September, they would go to MIT and Dartmouth, respectively, and would more than likely find other loves. Might as well have some fun. Huang decided not to bother Julie about hanging outside of the car any more. He brought his eyes back to the road.

The footsteps quickened behind him. At first, he was sure that he wasn?t being followed. He was positive that no one knew about the suitcase full of herion back at the Marriot. He would bet dollars to donuts on that fact. He had covered his tracks well enough. Julie would be taking the fall for his crime. The herion would buy him enough time to get out of the country and into his bankroller?s hot tub in Laos. He looked enough like the Laosians that no one would question his coming into the country. It was then that Huang felt the knife blade piercing his spine.

They loved, they fought, they had a life together. Now, they were at the bottom of the ocean. They had been there before, of course, but had been vacationing in Guam at the time and had paid for the chance. Now, they were both in crash positions. Both strapped into their seats, which could, in the event of a water landing, be used as floatation devices. Huang was bloated from being down there so long, and Julie?s face was partially eaten by the fish which swam in the warm waters around them. The search crews were still three days away. Their love meant nothing at the bottom of the ocean.

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