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“Possibilities on a Winding Path” (standard:Inspirational stories, 6168 words)
Author: kickboxrkoAdded: Sep 13 2003Views/Reads: 3636/2482Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A story about a young, charismatic teenager, who has been given the chance of a lifetime. He can leave a mark in the world or he can blow it big time. This is his journey. It will be updated.
 



Pablo Nunes lay in his bed. The sweet memories of his dream were even
now fading. He reached out and tried to grasp it, but it escaped him. 
His last vestige of the dream was an incomprehensible one. He rose from 
his bed and moved to his rummage for some descent clothes in his 
dresser. Pablo retraced what he could about the dream. Shapes, sounds, 
faces. Lost in the swirl of the subconscious, he let it recede. He had 
been having these dreams for quite a while now, yet he still didn't 
understand them. Sometimes they were purely symbolic, giving him 
numbers, signs, colors. They didn't make sense to him. But sometimes, 
his dreams had a reality feel. They seemed all too real. He fell into a 
world of sub-reality, when the dreams came. 

He could smell the sweet smell of bacon and eggs cooking downstairs, so
he clambered down the stairs, all the while thinking of the dream. When 
these dreams crawled into his subconscious, he sometimes woke up 
feeling lost. Confused, it took a few seconds for him to salvage his 
sense of reality. These dreams were like a hot iron being pressed into 
his mind. He remembered them clearly and vividly. The dreams, 
apparently, stuck with him. When the dreams started to reiterate, he 
knew that somehow they were trying to give him a message. He researched 
how dreams happen, how they work. He discovered there were entire 
research laboratories dedicated to the study of these mysterious 
creations of the already mysterious mind. What he learned were only 
theories. There were no cold hard facts on the topic. Research after 
research failed to achieve anything conclusive. It was too deep and 
complicated to fully understand, but what he basically understood was 
that the subconscious recorded things that the conscious looked past. 
When sleep comes, the sub-consciousness sends messages to the conscious 
and tries to remind us in a form of pictures or pure thought. So little 
was known, and Pablo's demands for information were not met. The brain 
is a perfect structure. It can store more memory then imaginable. If 
for example, we could download the memory of a human into a memory 
computer chip; it would take a 12 story building to contain all the 
computers that would hold it. It was massive, yet so small. Some say, 
it could unlock the secrets of the world, the secrets of life. It would 
be the key, to unlocking the lock that is the universe. 

As he climbed into the dining table to eat his mothers, famous “runny
eggs and sizzling bacon”, he mentally shrugged off the weary thoughts. 
Now was not the time, he had things to do. Pablo was different then 
most 16yrs old. He was far from average. He was blessed with escaping 
the notorious lazy factor that fetters so many intelligent teens. Pablo 
could be called charismatic, but, due to how people viewed him, they 
never saw that side. Or if they did, it was subtle, or they didn't even 
realize it. He was also idealistic, and that didn't help him either. He 
didn't understand why people in the world....actually...people he 
knew...were so damn hard-headed. They saw the world in one way and 
believed it to be their way and their way only. Anyway, he knew he was 
different. He was a loner, but he was far from being anti-social. He 
had a great sense of humor and knew how to get a party moving. But that 
didn't always happen. 

He had a rough childhood, and he had been broken and thrown away many
times. He was always loyal to his friends, but they were not always to 
him. They turned on him, and then expected things from him. They 
manipulated him, and this in turn led him to be suspicious of people. 
He didn't give his trust away easily anymore. Such is the case for many 
people who came from Pablo's native country. Pablo was born in Rio de 
Janeiro, Brazil. Tourists knew it as a great place to have fun, to stay 
at the beach, to relax. For Pablo, it was always hard. He grew up with 
his older sister, Andreas. They were close, they had to be. He watched 
her back, and she watched his. They both did things for each other, 
which the other one did not know about. Pablo would have taken a bullet 
for his sister, and he meant that. He grew up in a violent place, 
weapons of war were common. The many weapons that the soldiers on duty 
carried were familiar to him. They were always there, there presence 
was never forgotten. His country had a history of quick rises in 
government, and bloody takedowns. It seemed every time a new president 
came back, he was assassinated, and replaced. It was a bloody country, 
and times were always hard. He'd had many scraps and fights, yet till 
this day he hated violence. Because of that hate for violence, he still 
bears a scar. A scar he earned after taking a stand from fighting back. 
That day, he would never forget.... 

His friend, Jose, was always in a dilemma. He had a big mouth and


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