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Story Notes:

Okay. I'm giving this challenge a go to help butt kick my Psych muse, because she has wondered off the Psych path and needs a refresher course. The 100 Theme Challenge seemed like just the thing to help me out. It will help me get the next chapter of 'The Sight' out. 

And let me say that I have not read any of the other 8 responses to this challenge to keep myself from subconsciously using similar ideas. SO, if you do see something in these 100 ficlets that is similar to another author's 100 theme stories, it is purely coincidence.

I hope you enjoy these. All parts of this will be written in the 1st person with the person being Shawn. ;) This is only my second time writing 1st person, so bare with me and please lend advice if you see errors in my 1st person presentation.

DISCLAIMER:  All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from the work on this site. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Chapter Notes:
I'm taking a rather different approach to this challenge. And I will be doing the 100 words in order. Enjoy!
One hundred days, one hundred moments of time, one hundred memories… but who is really counting?

Well, I guess I am. It’s kinda hard not to, actually. Counting things, remembering things, most of the time not even doing it consciously. It’s just one of the many quirks of being me, I s’pose.

I don’t even know why I’m making myself write this down. Okay, so maybe I do know why, but Lord knows I’m not one for writing or reading or anything particularly constructive that does not in some way in the end benefit me. I am, after all, a self-indulgent jerk.

That’s what my last sorta girlfriend yelled at me as she slammed the door in my face, anyway. Not that I care what she thought. That was years ago, a distant wink in my past. I don’t know why I even brought that up. I didn’t care then and I don’t care now. I mean, who cares what other people think of you? They already decide for themselves who or what you are after that first impression, and I give them all one hell of a first impression. Whether it is my charm, my sarcasm, or my flamboyant actions from my psychic episodes. One of those facades of my personality is sure to leave a mark on their psyche.

Now you’re probably wondering about that little mention of ‘psychic episodes’. Yeah, you see… I’m a psychic private detective, but those of you that are supposed to be reading this should already know that.

Its just, well… The thing is… I’m not really psychic, but its what I tell everybody. It’s not like they can prove otherwise, you know. How the whole psychic thing came to be is another story onto itself that I may or may not get into later. I guess it’s gonna come down to just how much of my life I want to leave in print for others to see.

That brings me back to why I am even writing this stuff down. Like I said, I don’t do the writing thing, but you see… I died today. For one whole minute I was dead. No breathing, no heartbeat, nothing; just a flat-line beep buzzing in a constant tone. Not that I remember it, but your best bud yelling it in your face with tears in his eyes tends to make you sit up and take notice. Granted I was being my charming, sarcastic self when I triggered the Guster temper, so I guess I deserved the sucker punch in the gut that Gus’ words gave me.

“Damn it, Shawn!” Gus had suddenly screamed at me, his tone wiping the smirk off my face in an instant. “You died! For one whole minute you were DEAD! So just stop joking around for once in your life and take this seriously!”

Gus had looked like he was going to say more, but instead he had rushed from my hospital room with his words echoing around in my head. I had the feeling that he, nor anyone else, had planned on telling me about my little foray into the unknown.

Gone for one whole minute—DEAD for one whole minute.

Something like that tends to make you think over a few things; from what you’ve made of your life so far to what you’d be leaving behind. Whether or not you’d made a difference or if your being gone would even matter.

As far as what I’ve made of my life so far… Let’s just say I would get an A+ for creativity, and a D- for productivity. Unless you only counted the last five years, the amount of time I’ve been going with the whole psychic detective thing. That has been both creative and productive. I continue to pull off my psychic ruse and catch the bad guys while doing it. That I feel particularly good about and proud of, despite the lie I have to continue to do it. I can live with the lie, but the thing is…

I can’t die with that lie being left behind. I don’t want my friends, the people I love, to be left with only a lie. I want them to know more about the real me. I want them to know the part of me that I’m just plain too scared to show them. They’ll probably be pissed off at me to read this after I’m gone and find out all the things they didn’t know that I never gave them the chance to see, but what can I say? I’m a gutless chicken. That is something I’ve shown them plenty of times, so be assured that not everything you knew of me was a lie. Please, just remember that.

Not everything was a lie. Some parts of me that I showed you were real. Please, please… remember that.

Remember that as I now share with you one hundred days of my life, share with you one hundred moments of my life that helped to shape the man I am today.

This is day number one. This is moment number one… This is the introduction to everything you didn’t know about me.

This is the real Shawn Spencer.



Chapter End Notes:
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