Corvus' Short Scenes!!

[Edema Rue she/her]

1 hour ago, Calano Corvus said:

Scene #134: The Girl In The Stars, Pt. 2

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“I remember kissing you. Why do I remember kissing you?”

The illusion fades, and I’m staring once more at the harsh overhead lights of my hospital room.

I sigh, wondering once more who the girl was that I kissed.

And I wonder why she keeps appearing to me. I can’t decide if it’s like a nightmare or a dream.

The nurse walks in again.

“Good morning, Jordan,” He says, “I trust you slept well.”

“Yup.” I say. My vocal cords have been healing nicely, but there's still a little ways to go before they're fully healed. As such, my voice is still slightly scratchy. “About as well as I could have, considering all that’s happened.”

“How’re you feeling today? Scale of-”

“4. Pretty crummy,” I say, cutting him off, “I want to leave.”

“Well, that’s one point more than yesterday,” The nurse responds, and with an attempt at a comforting smile he says, “Don’t worry, you’ll be able to leave soon.”

He’s been saying that for three days. I’ve been in this room, in a hospital, for reasons that shouldn’t have put me in a hospital for this long, confused out of my mind because of things I can’t seem to remember, and he has the gall to give me that infuriating smile.

“Uh huh,” I say bitterly, “Need anything else, or can you leave me to my solitary confinement for another few hours?”

“Blood pressure, Jordan.”

He comes forward and straps a blood pressure cuff to my arm, and I sigh as he presses a button on the monitor and it begins to constrict my arm. I feel my arm begin to pulse in time with my heart rate, a reminder that yes, I’m still alive. Regrettably. He looks at the monitor once it beeps, nods once, and removes the cuff.

Without a word, he leaves.

I roll over in my bed, sighing and settling into the barely soft hospital bed. You’d think that with how much they make at this hospital with all their procedures, they’d be able to at the very least afford a decent mattress.

It’s funny because I can’t even remember the very first time I heard your name. How do you not remember something that made such a big difference in your life?

I smile to myself, remembering how oddly poetic and sentimental Kim could get. She always was just saying random things that came to mind-

Wait.

Kim. Kimberly.

I sit up, eyes wide. A name. I remember a name. Her name.

“Kimberly,” I say, testing the name on my lips. The lights flicker in my room.

My eyes begin to tear up. What the hell is happening? 

That same illusion from before fades into view once more. A view of darkness, full of light but empty and cold. It’s confusing, I know, but I literally do not know what else to call it. It’s just… yeah, it’s just empty and cold, very dark but full of light. Have fun with that.

In the center of that darkness a glowing ring begins to form, growing larger, warping everything around it.

I’ve seen this before, not just in this same illusion earlier, but this specifically. This black hole.

We named it Carol. Why the hell did we name it Carol? 

The black hole- Carol- grows, and eventually dominates the space in front of me. A bright flash comes from inside the black hole, and I look away, shielding my eyes.

The light fades.

I look back. Within Carol’s domain floats a girl.

“Jordan?” She asks, and her voice is far, far away, “Jordan? Are you there?”

I hesitate. “Kimberly?” I say tentatively, and watch her face light up.

“Jordan!” She shouts, her voice getting louder, “Jordan, oh my stars, you’re alive! Oh thank goodness!”

“Kim-”

“So much has happened, you won’t believe any of it, I’ve been trying to find a way to reach out to you-”

“Kimberly,” I say firmly, and she pauses, “What happened? I don’t remember anything, if anything even happened. I don’t know if I’m hallucinating or not right now, I’m so confused.”

“Where are you?” She asks softly, and I look around for any name of where I might be. My window is dark, so I can’t see outside. When I look back, Kim is suddenly standing right in front of my bed.

She looks around. “Oh,” She says, “You’re… here.”

“A hospital,” I say, “Not one I recognize though.”

“What do you remember?” She asks, seeming to ignore me.

“There was… a black hole,” I begin, “and you, and me, and I remember there was something tearing us apart, some strange force. You- you said you’d go through hell and back again for me.”

She nods. “You were screaming. You were in so much pain. Something was taking you away, something was wrong, and I don’t know what it is or was, and I’ve been looking for you for ages.”

“I don’t remember anything,” I say, and my heart aches with memories it can’t recall.

Her image flickers, and she blinks.

“I don’t have much time,” She says loudly, beginning to fade from view, “I’ll come find you. I’ll find a way, Jordan, I swear on the Stars I’ll come find you!”

“I-” But she’s gone.

Somehow that hurt me more than I thought it would.

I lay back on my pillows, and press my hands onto my face, groaning with the agony of a confused and definitely wounded mind, and a heart that feels things I can’t remember for the life of me.

“Girl in the stars,” I mutter, “Girl in the stars, what are you trying to do?”

Scene #135: Thank You For Staying With Me

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A sharp breath escaped Lina’s mouth.

She looked down at the blade going through her midsection. “Dah… Damn,” She wheezed out, “That stings.”

Her knees buckled, and she sank to the ground. Ali withdrew her blade, and the cloud of red vanished from her eyes. She saw the damage she’d done, and her heart shattered. Tears immediately formed in her eyes. Her head was spinning, she felt as if she might vomit, this couldn’t be happening.

“Lina, no,” She said, kneeling to try and staunch the bleeding from the wound in Lina’s stomach, “I didn’t mean to- I- I can fix it.”

Lina wheezed, face grimaced in pain. “It’s alright, it’s alright…” She said slowly, comfortingly, “I just need to… lay down.”

She slowly laid herself out on the ground with a grunt, then sighed.

Ali covered her mouth with her bloodstained hand, not caring. She was trying anything she could to stop the loud and anguished sobs coming from within her.

“Hey.. Hey,” Lina said, taking Ali’s hand in her own, “It’s alright, it’s okay.”

“I’m so sorry,” Ali whined, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t- It wasn’t me, I swear it wasn’t-”

“Shhh,” Lina soothed, “I know, darling, I know.”

They stayed there a bit, Ali hiccuping and sobbing, shaking with grief and remorse, Lina breathing weakly and unevenly.

“I’m sorry,” Ali mumbled through tears and saliva, “I’m sorry, I should’ve fought back.”

Lina smiled sadly. “I know it wasn’t you that killed me, Ali,” She said, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Thank you for staying with me.”

Ali leaned down, breathing heavily from her sobs, and pressed her forehead against Lina’s. “Always,” She said through quivering lips, “I’ll always stay with you.”

She pressed a small kiss to Lina’s lips.

“I love you,” She said, her breathing shallow.

Lina smiled. “I love you too,” She muttered.

Her eyelids fluttered. “Ma?” She asked, barely audible above Ali’s sobbing, before her eyes closed for good.

Ali squeezed her eyes shut, tears streaming down falling onto Lina’s cuirass. She pressed her forehead against Lina’s chest, heaving in agonizing grief.

 

…I need to start a count for how often your writing makes me cry dude

[Going_North_cal]

12 hours ago, Edema Rue said:

…I need to start a count for how often your writing makes me cry dude

it’s gonna be pretty long :3

[Just-A-Stick she/her]

*reads through the entire thread*

Oh storms...

I... I can't stop crying now...

Thank you...

I um... all my favorites are here:

#99, #124, #131, #39, #59, and all these:

On 5/9/2022 at 12:20 PM, CalanoCorvus said:

Scene #20: Fluff, with some angst at the end. (Damn you, Sleeping At Last, for crafting the most beautiful music I've ever heard)

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“If something’s wrong, you can count on me.”

“I know.”

“I’ll always be here to talk, or to listen.”

“I know.”

“You know I’d take my heart clean apart, if it were to help yours beat.”

“That was adorably cringe.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Laughter.

Love.

“I love you.”

“I know. I love you too.”

Warmth.

Smiling.

“Am I too dramatic? Too… what’s the word… melancholy? No…”

“Dramatic is the right word. But it’s kind of a soft drama, and it’s super sweet.”

Forehead.

Warmth.

Gentleness.

“Hope you don’t mind.”

“Why would I mind?”

“I dunno.”

Smiling.

Love.

“Mind if I be dramatic again?”

“Go for it.”

“I will love you, unconditionally, forever. I will love you without any strings attached. Forever.”

Swelling.

Heart.

Love.

“Gods, Alex.”

“What? Too much?”

“No. Perfect. Adorable, and sweet, and just the thing I needed to hear today.”

Kisses.

Sleepiness.

Whispers.

“You’re welcome.”

Drifting…

Drifting…

Gone.

beep. beep. beep. beeeeeeeeep.

dammit im bouta start crying wtf.

 

On 5/13/2022 at 10:45 AM, CalanoCorvus said:

Scene #22: Inspired by the teaser trailer for Vantage, by Halfy & Winks. A couple dances silently.

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The heat is fast approaching. 

I sit next to my love.

She is crying.

Why am I not crying?

I place my hand over hers, gently, and she raises her gaze to mine.

“May I have this last dance?” I ask softly.

She accepts silently, taking my hand, and I gently pull her to her feet.

As we assume a simple waltz, the unconscious movements a result of years of practice, tears begin to stream down her face.

I pull her closer, until her head rests on my chest. Her body silently shivers with sobs, as the light outside the window grows brighter.

“I’m scared.”

“I know,” I say softly as I kiss the top of her head, “I know you are.”

“Aren’t you?”

The light grows brighter, the heat slowly increasing, but I don’t respond.

“Yes,” I say quietly.

She takes the lead in the dance, and leads me through the steps.

Left.

Right.

Back. Forward.

Twirl.

She smiles sadly. “You’ve been practicing,” She says.

I smile back, and place a gentle kiss on her forehead.

I begin to sweat, as the heat climbs in temperature ever quicker. The light is nearly blinding.

Left.

Right.

Back. Forward.

Twirl.

Tears finally begin to stream down my face, as I finally realize what’s about to happen.

“I…” I draw a breath, “I love you.”

“I know. And I love you too.”

We dance, silently.

The heat heightens. The light crescendos.

"Mundus terminatur, et mundi finio."

A fireburst breaks through the wall, and then I know nothing more.

please help me before i start crying.

 

On 5/29/2022 at 9:38 PM, CalanoCorvus said:

Heard a really sad cover for Chasing Cars, originally by Snow Patrol, but this version is by Tommee Profitt.

Scene #29: Another sad death-centric scene, but with a less depressing ending, and billions times more romantic and depressing.

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Elaine burst through the door to her bedroom, barely holding back tears.

She looked up, willing the tears not to fall, but then his face had the audacity to flash through her mind.

And then the sobbing started.

The screaming.

The wailing.

The tears falling unburdened.

Tyson was gone. Nothing would change that.

He had disappeared two days ago.

His body, mutilated and decaying, had been found in the woods two days later.

Three days ago Elaine had laid there, next to him, in this room, smiling and enjoying his presence.

She had forgotten the world.

She hadn’t needed the world.

All she needed was Tyson.

All he needed was Elaine.

Those three words were said too much, yet not enough.

I.

Love.

You.

Elaine sat there, in the spot where she had been laying three days ago, next to him.

And broke.

“Ty…” She mumbled, not fully lucid from the anguish, “What am I supposed to do? How the hell do I recover from this?”

“You don’t.”

Elaine spun, looking behind her.

No one was there.

“You won’t recover. I’m sorry, truly, but there’s no coming back from this.”

Elaine spun back around. 

Still, no one was in the room but herself.

But she recognized that voice. She would never forget that voice.

“Down here.”

She looked down, and he was there.

Lying in the same spot, arms behind his head, ankles crossed.

Smiling with that adorable gap-toothed smile he always had on.

Tyson.

“Hey, El.”

Elaine’s mouth was working, moving up and down, but words weren’t working.

The tears continued to fall, but this time as disbelief. The trail they left was warm.

“You’re not real.” She said with such conviction, that Tyson- Not-Tyson- flinched.

“Yeah,” He said softly, “I know. But I wish I could be real.”

Elaine wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands and said, “Damnit, why is this happening?”

“You’re guess is as good as mine, El. Come, sit down.”

Elaine obliged, and sat next to him.

If the emotion in the room wasn’t so damn palpable, and if the truth wasn’t covering them like a thick blanket, this might be a normal hangout.

“I know how you’re feelin-”

“No you don’t.”

“Technically, seeing as how I’m a figment of your imagination, I do.”

Elaine laughed, a wet, half happy laugh. Even if it wasn’t him, he still managed to make her laugh, at this moment, of all times.

Damn him.

“If I were to lay here,” He started, his voice lowering into the low dulcet tones that were so, so comforting, “Just lay here, nothing else… Would you lay with me?”

“Tyson, we did that three days ago!”

“I’m serious. We wouldn’t do anything, we’d ignore the world. Just you and me.”

“Of course I would,” Elaine said, voice cracking.

“Good.”

There was a pause.

One that, even though Elaine knew she was hallucinating, knew she was going insane, no doubt, was strangely comforting.

Tyson was the one to break it. He sat up, and cupped her head in his hands. Elaine swore she could almost feel it.

“Elaine…” He said softly, “All that I am, all that I ever was, all that I ever will be, is here.”

Elaine’s heart caught in her throat, emotion overpowering her mind for a split second, bringing back all the grief and joy and memories of times spent with Tyson.

Who was now gone.

But who was also right here.

“In your eyes,” He continued, “In your heart, in your mind. I love you, Elaine. I always have. I always will. This alone will never change.”

Tyson faded, and the memory of his touch and his voice faded with him.

Leaving Elaine, on the floor, broken yet mended, torn apart yet sewn back together.

“I’d always lay with you. I’d always forget the world. For you.”

 

 

On 6/20/2022 at 10:24 PM, CalanoCorvus said:

Cavetown is makin me sentimental, and it doesn't help i just ranted ab my gf to my friend gwen.

So;

Scene #32: Poem ab love. Enjoy. And I love y'all!!!

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There is something so soft, and so pure, about love.

Love comes in many forms, and has many different motives.

The best form of love is unconditional love.

When someone knows your flaws.

And loves you for them.

When someone knows you.

And loves you.

To love someone, to truly love someone, is to want everything for them.

To love someone is to want to wipe their tears away every time, and to kiss their forehead and to make their pain go away.

To love someone is to want to pick them up, to hug them, and to never let go.

To love someone is to want to make them safe, to make them feel loved, to make sure that they’re loved.

Love is a beautiful thing.

But, as with everything, there’s a dark side.

Someone can say they love someone, and then use and manipulate them.

Someone can say they love someone, and then go back on it an hour later.

Love has a bright side and a dark side.

A yin and yang.

Love is yearning to always be with someone, yearning to see their smile, hear their voice, watch their eyes light up when they see you.

Love is wanting to be there for everything, to help them through everything, to live and love with them.

And that,

Is the greatest thing a human can ever do.

Love.

why is cavetown so good at musicing

 

On 7/20/2022 at 8:17 PM, CalanoCorvus said:

Scene #43: i dont know anymore.

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Days Since: 208

Days since I’ve cried: 0

Days when I’ve put my head on my pillow and told myself I’m strong because I’ve made it one more day without you: 208

Days that I don’t miss you: 0

Days that I’ve missed you: 209

Days since I’ve felt you: 210

Days since I’ve kissed you: 213

Days since I’ve hugged you: 210

Days since I’ve told you ‘I Love You:’ 208

Days since the accident: 208

Days since you’ve died: 208

Days I’ve wished you were still here: 208

 

 

On 7/29/2022 at 10:00 PM, CalanoCorvus said:

Scene #50: I've had a rough week. This one is depressing and stuff. Enjoy.

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I stare at Her outstretched hand.

It beckons to me.

“Michael…”

I turn around, and Eliana stares back at me.

Her eyes are wet.

“Michael…” She repeats, “This wasn’t part of the plan.” Her voice cracks, and her arms go around herself, in a tight shell.

I glance back at Her hand, as Eliana’s breathing speeds up. Then I walk over to her.

“Eliana, I-” I start, but stop.

Instead, I wrap my arms around her.

She instantly responds, wrapping her arms around my sides, gripping my shoulders. She cries into my shirt, and I close my eyes, reveling this moment. I likely won’t get it again, if I take Her hand.

“Don’t go.” She whispers, although it’s muffled in my shirt. “Please, don’t go.”

“I can’t not go, Eliana.” I say, voice hoarse. “It’s my calling.”

“Please…” She sobs, “I love you. Please don’t go.”

I extricate myself slowly from her grip, and glance back at the deity standing there, hand outstretched.

I look back at Eliana.

I look Eliana dead in the eyes.

“I have to go.”

And before she responds, I turn and start walking towards the deity.

“No!” She shouts, grabbing my arm.

“I’ve lost enough people in the past week. First Tyler, then Gwen, then Kat… I am not losing you too.”

“You aren’t,” I say, not daring to look at her. If I look at her, I won’t be able to leave.

“You aren’t losing me,” I repeat, “I’ll still be here, just… somewhere else.”

“Why you? And why somewhere where I can’t reach you?” She hisses.

“Why you?”

I pause.

Why me?

Why me?

It could be anyone.

But… No.

No, it has to be me. There is no other way.

“Because,” I whisper, “It just… has to be.”

I gently pull out of her grip and stretch my hand out to the deity.

Instead of grabbing Her hand, I am yanked backward.

And Eliana drags me into a kiss.

Her lips are salty from her tears. But I respond immediately, kissing her back.

She cries as she kisses me, although silently.

She cups my face, and I wrap my arms around her, beginning to cry as well.

Eventually, it must end. For the last time.

I slowly step back.

Then I realize something.

She doesn’t have to lose all of me.

I remove the necklace from around my neck. The small purple gemstone.

“Do you recognize this?” I ask her.

“No…” She replies.

“This is the rock you found in 1st grade that you gave to me. Me, of all people.”

Her eyes widen.

“A couple of years ago, I found it in my closet while cleaning out my room. I took it to a jeweler and had them turn it into a necklace. Because, I had had feelings for you ever since you gave me this gem. And after finding it, and having the jeweler turn it into a necklace, I had something to remind me of you every day.”

I take her hands, shaking though they are, and press the necklace into her palm. I wrap her fingers around it and step back.

“I’m giving it to you. To remind you… of me.”

“Michael…” She says, looking up to me.
“I love you, Eliana. You are the only person I ever loved. I didn’t say anything for ten years. I told you a year ago. I love you, I have always loved you, I will always love you.”

And I turn around, grasp Her hand, and am pulled away into the heavens.

so um yeah. if you wanna know what happened this week, I'm gonna post an SU ab it in a few minutes so. Yeah.

 

On 9/19/2022 at 6:54 PM, CalanoCorvus said:

Scene #69 (haha funny number): Poem I wrote after feeling touch starved and drowsy

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The rain falls in gentle swirls, dancing in the wind.

It patters against the grass and the concrete, a soft sound.

I grow drowsy as your breathing slows, and you drift into sleep.

Peaceful dreams await you in your mind as you reside in my arms.

The wind blows the raindrops against the window, and I rest my head on yours.

Calming words and calming music. A candle or two.

The rain. A soft blanket.

No distractions. Just us, our thoughts, and the rain.

 

 

On 9/21/2022 at 12:45 PM, CalanoCorvus said:

Scene #71: Was it Worth It?

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I often wonder that after someone removes themselves from this plane of existence,

Do they regret it?

Do they, after finding a solution to the problem that nagged at their wounded mind for years, regret stopping their life in its tracks?

Do they turn around, having changed their mind, only to see the door slam in their face?

Screaming and begging, they bang on the door, pleading to be let back, to live again.

They’re sorry.

They weren’t in a right state of mind.

And I wonder,

Does their mind eventually wander, from thoughts of self-loathing, to thoughts of their loved ones?

Do they wonder how the ones they love took their sudden death?

Do they feel the ache, the guilt, the remorse and sorrow, of harming them in this way?

Yes, they were the ones truly in pain, they were the ones who felt empty and cold,

But imagine how their loved ones must feel now.

Guilty, like them.

Remorseful, like them.

Sorrowed, like them.

And so I ask,

I ask to those that have taken this action,

I ask this simple question,

Was it Worth It?

 

 

On 9/27/2022 at 1:40 PM, CalanoCorvus said:

Scene #72: The Phoenix

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“Hey,” She says weakly, “Hey, look at me.”

I look at her, and her smile, pained and dying though it is, is beautiful and heartbreaking.

“I’m in your arms, right? There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” She says, and I brush some hair out of her face.

“I wish it were for a different reason,” I mutter.

“I do as well. But, if.. if I die in your arms, then it’s right where I'm supposed to be.”

I kiss her forehead, and she smiles sadly, eyes drifting shut.

“Are you scared?” I ask, “Are you scared of dying?”

“No,” She says, “As long as you’re next to me, I’m not scared.”

“Sappy bastard,” I say, and I laugh.

She laughs weakly, and goes silent.

I watch as she studies my face, for the last time. Then her eyes drift shut.

And I break.

And as I sit there, broken and sobbing, a warm orange light begins to filter through the trees around me.

And suddenly a brilliant Phoenix appears, glowing orange and red, covered in flames.

It lands in front of me, and studies me.

Then it studies her.

It bows its head, and gently pecks her forehead.

From the spot on her forehead, a thin layer of flames spreads, until she is covered by a shimmering orange barrier.

They don’t burn her, and I feel that I have no reason to be afraid of the flames.

The Phoenix looks up at me, and I understand.

I gently pick her up, and instinctively, her body curls against mine.

She isn’t gone yet.

It’s the flames, I’m sure of it.

The Phoenix takes flight, gliding through the forest, and I follow it. I walk through the snow, through the trees, until we reach the Border.

Crossing the Border into the city, the flames dissipate, and the Phoenix is gone. I realize it has been gone for some time now. I was walking of my own volition.

Someone sees me, grief stricken and carrying her body, and calls for help.

Medics arrive soon after, and it is a blur as I watch them resuscitate and stabilize her.

Someone puts a blanket and a hot drink in my hands.

I ignore them.

Their warmth is not the warmth I need to feel right now.

A medic walks over, and kneels down.

“Do you know the patient?” She asks gently.

“Yes,” I say, and my voice croaks, like I’ve been inhaling smoke.

I clear my throat and say, “Yes, she’s my fiancé.”

The medic nods. “Congratulations on the engagement.”

It sounds like empty congratulations, but she continues speaking.

“You were lucky to get her through the forest to us when you did. She was almost gone.”

I slowly realize what she’s saying, and she must see that I realize it, because she smiles and nods.

“She’s going to be okay.”

And I break all over again.

 

 

On 10/3/2022 at 1:50 PM, CalanoCorvus said:

Scene #73: I meant to tell you.

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Listen, Listen

I know it’s pathetic,

And I should have said something sooner,

Because now it’s too late.

You’re moving on,

With someone new,

And I never told you.

I meant to, I swear,

I meant to tell you it all.

But now you’re walking away.

Leaving me to sway,

In the rain.

Listen, Listen,

Please just listen to me,

You probably didn’t feel anything,

Not for me, at least.

But I did, and I hope,

I hope it counts.

Maybe we can be friends?

Maybe you can remember me?

It doesn’t have to end this way.

…Right?

Or, maybe it does.

Because now you’re leaving.

You’re living your life.

A life without me.

And I’m without you.

And I meant to tell you,

I swear I meant to.

 

 

On 10/4/2022 at 3:36 PM, CalanoCorvus said:

Scene #74: I'm trying to protect the one thing I can't live without. That's you.

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Sitting down in the basement, I go over the words. Over and over, I repeat them in my head.

There’s only one thing in this world I can’t live without. Protect it.

They’re my words, obviously. But they popped into my head, with no warning. And they haven’t left. I feel it’s a prompt.

A prompt to do something. The world’s going to hell. Flames, war, chaos, all of it.

And there's not much I can do.

I stand, and move to the workbench I keep down here.

It’s just a small table, covered in scraps and tools. Wood, metal, scraps of old projects, miscellaneous items from all over.

And I start tinkering. I don’t actually make anything, I just… tinker. Put these two things together, weld it. Glue that, cut this.

And as I do so, I realize there’s nothing I can do. I’m just… some guy. So, I keep tinkering. It keeps my hands busy, and as I tinker, I cry.

I cry because I can’t protect what I can’t live without. Nothing can.

I can’t. I definitely can’t. My breathing speeds up, alongside my emotions and mind, until eventually I snap, pushing away the table, sending everything on it clattering to the ground. And I go backwards in my chair. I put my hands to my face, pliers in one hand, breathing fast and heavy.

The words continue to echo through my head.

The door opens, and Sara walks in. Must’ve heard the noise.

She looks at me, then looks at the stuff on the floor, the half-finished projects, the scraps, she takes it all in.

Then she looks back at me, and I look up.

“Care to explain?” She asks, sympathetically.

“You’ve seen the news?” I ask, hoarse, breathing heavily.

“Yeah,” She responds, “I’ve seen how the world’s going to hell. What’s that gotta do with this?”

I grip the pliers still in my hand, and throw them against the wall.

“Everything,” I say, “The world’s ending, and I can’t do anything about it.”

She cocks her head. “What do you mean?” She says softly.

“There’s only one thing in this world I can’t live without, and I’m trying to protect it.” I say, and I point at Sara. “That’s you.”

I look down at the ground, and suddenly, I can’t cry. I just can’t.

“I can’t protect you. I feel that I need to, but I can’t.”

She looks at me for a moment and walks over to me.

As I look at the ground, I feel her hands move onto my arms, up onto my shoulders, then into my hair. Her fingers run along my scalp. I look up at her, and she gently presses my forehead to her chest, resting her chin on my head.

“You don’t need to,” She says, “I’m fine.”

I start to protest, but she shushes me, “You’ve done more for me than anyone else. You’ve been there for me through everything. I don’t know where this sudden need to protect me came from, because I’m fully capable of protecting myself, but I understand the sentiment. Thank you. But,” She continues, and tilts my head up to look at her, “Even if this does go poorly, know that I also can’t live without you. Everything you’ve done, everything we’ve been through, that’s forged a bond stronger than anything else on this planet. If you were to die, I’d follow soon after. I know the same would happen if I died.”

I look down at the ground again.

“I love you, Eric.” She says, “There’s no one else on this planet I love as much as you. You protect me, and I protect you. That’s our arrangement. Always and forever.”

 

 

On 10/21/2022 at 11:37 AM, CalanoCorvus said:

Thanks Haly

And now, Scene #76: Wings.

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I strode up to the cliff's edge, looking over.

“Eugh,” I said, stretching my mouth. “That’s quite a drop.”

Ella looked out over the edge, face blank. “Mhm,” She said.

I looked at her. “Why’d you bring me out here?”

She hesitated, looking down. The way she looked over the edge… it was almost like she longed to jump.

“There’s,” She started, “There’s something I haven’t told you yet.”

“Is it important?”

She shrugged. “I would think so. It’s pretty shocking.”

I waved a hand, “I won’t judge.”

Ella raised an eyebrow at me. I laughed. “I won’t!” I walked up to her, putting my hands on her shoulders. “I won’t,” I said, more seriously.

She looked at me, then looked down, putting her head on my chest.

I put my arms around her, and she groaned. I laughed again.

“Stop laughing, this is serious!” She whined.

I laughed harder, letting go of her. “I’m sorry,” I said between laughs, “I’m sorry, I know, I’m stupid and mean.”

“No you’re not, you’re just an idiot.”

I snapped my fingers, and pointed. “That too.”

She grinned. Then she got serious again.

“This secret was impossibly hard to keep from you, Jake. It was so. Hard.” She said.

I smiled reassuringly. “Then tell me,” I said softly, “You know I’ll listen. I’ve listened to everything else already.”

“Yes, you have. But this is the biggest secret.” She said, “I don’t even know how to explain it.”

“Is there a way to show it?” I asked.

She nodded slowly, face grim. “You’re not gonna like it.”

I smiled, leaning down and kissing her forehead. “Try me,” I whispered.

She took my hand and pulled me to the edge. She then gently pushed me back a bit.

“Close your eyes,” She said, “And open them after a few seconds.”

I frowned, but complied.

When I opened my eyes, she was gone. My stomach dropped. I cursed, and started to run up to the edge.

And then a shape flew up over the edge in a flurry of feathers. The sound was beautiful, a layered Fwoosh! Of massive wings beating the air.

It landed in front of me, and it was… Ella. But sprouting from her back were wings. Magnificent, soft brown wings.

My jaw dropped.

I was angry, I thought she had fallen off and died. Then I was in shock again, because she had wings. Then I was even more in love, because this was awesome.

She fidgeted with some of the feathers near the bottom. “Well, I showed you. You can leave now, I won’t judge.”

I laughed, mostly out of shock. “Sorry,” I said, “Why would I leave you?”

“Because this isn’t normal? Because I’ve grown up my whole life hiding these things, and anytime someone finds out, they shun me and call me a weirdo, and I don’t want to deal with that?”

I smiled softly. “Ella..” I said, “Ella, you were brave enough to show me your wings. And, I’m gonna be honest, they’re damn near brilliant. I love them.” I reached out and touched them. “I’m actually kind of jealous,” I admitted.

“Jealous? I’m a freak!” I looked at her, and noticed she was tearing up. “I’m a freak!” She repeated, “What reason would you have to love a freak? An outcast?” She said, walking up and pressing her finger into my chest.

“Because, Ella,” I said simply, pulling her close, “You’re my freak. And I’m your freak. Sure, I don’t have wings, but I’m stupid. Stupid enough to have a hankering to jump off the cliff, just to feel like I’m flying. We all have quirks, yours are just more pronounced.”

The wings retreated into her back, and she looked up at me. “So,” She said, “You don’t hate me.”

“Of course not,” I said incredulously, “Those wings are beautiful. If anything, I love you even more.”

I looked at her a bit longer. She sighed. “I know what you’re gonna ask.” She said, smiling knowingly.

“What? What do you mean? I’m not gonna ask anything?” I said quickly.

She chuckled. “Go ahead,” She said.

I grinned sheepishly. “Is there any way I could get some wings?”

She shook her head. “I knew you were gonna ask that.” I laughed. “But, as a matter of fact, there is. But it makes both sets permanent. You won’t be able to retract them like I can.”

I nodded. “Are you up for that?” I asked.

She seemed taken aback, as if she wasn’t expecting me to ask if she was ready for it first. But why wouldn’t I ask? She’d been through the most with them, I wanted to know if she wanted them to be permanent. I could live without them, but I’d still be jealous.

Ella thought for a moment.

“I think,” She said, “I think I’d be okay if you had them too. It’d be easier with two people.”

I smiled. “I agree.”

“C’mere, you.” She said, and she kissed me. My back began to tingle, and then wings of the purest soft, deep brown sprouted out of my back. I broke off the kiss, instead admiring my new wings. I spread them wide, then hopped up and down, clapping my hands.

“You are so immature.” Ella said, and laughed. But then she took both my hands, and dragged me backwards off the cliff.

And then we flew.

 

 

On 11/10/2022 at 10:33 AM, CalanoCorvus said:

Scene #80: I See You Everywhere

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I was a fool to think we could be together. 

I see you everywhere, now that you’re gone.

The statue in the forest, slowly being assimilated into nature.

The townsfolk.

The rustling leaves, gentle like your laugh.

The wind in my face, powerful like your smile.

And I dream of you. I dream of you night after night.

I dream of you coming back, apologizing, saying you’re here to stay.

Then I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. Because it’s all wrong.

You aren’t here.

The statue in the forest is all that remains of you.

Your likeness, there in the woods, will slowly be eaten up by the trees and earth,

Until nothing remains.

And then what’s left for me?

Nothing is left for me. You were the only thing that mattered to me.

Life without you is painful, unbearable, awful.

So I go to the place that’s cold, the place that’s wet, and deep.

To travel to the place that’s warm, the place that’s dry, and deep.

And there,

In that warm place,

I’ll wait to see you again.

 

 

On 2/12/2023 at 5:03 PM, CalanoCorvus said:

Some scenes that should be in here, aren't, and I will be putting here.

Scene #93: If

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If it were meant to be, then may the gods say as such.

If you were meant to be mine, let nature show it.

If you make me the happiest I ever am, let the birds sing it.

If I want to wrap you up in my arms and let the rest of the world fall away, let the stars spell it.

If I could kiss all your problems away, I would.

If I could marry you now, I would.

If I were to try and imagine a life without you, I would break.

If there’s a way I could show you I love you more than I already do, let the sun shout it.

If there’s a way to tell you how much you mean to me,

Please tell me.

Scene #94: Unsure

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I’m unsure of just what to say.

There’s too much to say, there always has been, always is, and always will be.

I want you to know that I’d fight the world for you if it came to it.

I’d fight until there was no fight left in me, and then I’d fight some more.

Because you mean so much to me. More than I mean to myself. I hold you in higher regard than myself.

Not a day goes by that the thought of you passes my mind, that I miss your lips passing mine, that I miss the brush of your hand on my arm, that I miss the scent of your perfume.

Not a day goes by that I wish it to stay like this forever. Every day I wish, I imagine, I hope that I get to stay with you, be with you, for the rest of my life.

I feel a Connection, a Bond, forged by Ideals and Intent, a mixing of Agency and 

Identity, a beautiful molding of our two personalities.

I feel whole when I’m with you.

I feel complete.

Safe. Loved. Unjudged.

Our lives will surely take us in different directions.

30 years ago, that would have been an issue. I believe, however, that with today’s technology, today’s abilities, I can still see you and know you even if you are on the other side of the world.

I’m unsure of the future.

I’m unsure of much of the present.

But if I am sure one thing,

It is that my love for you, my adoration, my feelings, my compassion,

Is vast and expansive. 

It feels as if I’ve known you for so long, it feels as if we met before this life and just,

Clicked.

And I believe, and I’m well aware it is much too soon to say it, but I’m quite confident, but I believe that it was meant to be.

That I was meant to find you, and you me.

The reason we click together so well cannot be incidental.

If not now, if not you, then who?

Who could possibly make me feel the way I feel for you for them?

The answer? I don’t know.

It hurts thinking of a time I wouldn’t be with you. It’s nerve wracking to thing of things to come, of mistakes I’ve made and how those could influence what we have.

But, I won’t stop.

I won’t stop caring, I won’t stop loving, I won’t stop being me.

I see you in the stars, in the grass, in my dreams.

The stars speak so highly of you.

The grass whispers so kindly of you.

And my dreams, are filled with the memories of time spent together, replaying over and over.

Like magic film, taken as a Photograph. Almost as if I could live inside.

My love, you are perfect.

You are wonderful.

You are ambitious.

You are generous.

You are imaginative.

You are compassionate.

You are loving.

You are warm.

You are endearing.

You are outgoing, energetic, fearless, and a billion more.

You are You. There is no one else like You.

Not to Me.

 

 

On 4/6/2023 at 8:44 PM, CalanoCorvus said:

This is one I'd like to preface with a little thing:

The song I wrote this too is called Horizon, and it's by Dear Gravity. It came on while I was listening to a youtube chill ambience playlist. And I immediately got the idea for this poem, clear as day. I don't know why, I don't know how, but the visuals behind this poem were the most powerful, clear, beautiful visuals I've ever experienced, with any of my scenes. Writing this felt real. It felt true. It felt like it was something that could happen. I'm not entirely sure why, I'm not entirely sure how, but this poem speaks to me more so than most others that I've written.

Out of all 105 scenes, and everything else that I've written;

This singular poem speaks to my soul and my heart the most. I am so immensely proud of it, and I hope with every fiber of my being that it somehow comes true to some extent.

And you all know with who, and about who.

Please enjoy,

Scene #105: New Horizon

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Stars.

Burning softly in the night,

Radiating, a small beacon, a pinprick, of light and hope in the void.

So vast, yet so small to us.

So beautiful, powerful, yet small, and diminutive.

With breath fogging the glass, and streaks of water down the window,

You gaze up.

Up through the rain, through a gap in the clouds,

Where a small star,

Shines from on high.

It’s late. It’s so late.

But I don’t feel tired.

Not when I look at you. Not when you smile.

Not after tonight.

I will never feel tired after tonight.

That small star, high up in the sky,

It shines.

Just like you.

And just like the diamond on your finger.

The diamond on your finger on your hand, clenched in a fist as you sleep in the passenger seat.

Despite the hour, the rain, the cold, the darkness around us.

It feels bright.

It feels warm.

It feels safe.

It feels happy.

All my life I’ve yearned for this feeling,

And to finally achieve it,

To achieve it in tandem with you,

It’s the most beautiful thing I can imagine.

More so.

The diamond that you wear signifies so much more;

It’s so much more than a pretty gem, an ornamented ring.

It’s a promise.

A statement.

A claim.

A promise of love.

A statement of belonging.

A claim of beauty, and wonder, and majesty and radiance.

All things that entail what you are, and what I see in you.

And while you sleep, in the passenger seat, the rain beating softly against the windshield,

I gaze.

At the star.

At you.

And I smile.

I smile because of what I’ve gained tonight.

The beauty of it all.

The new horizon,

The one I’ll ride towards forever,

With you.

 

 

On 4/21/2023 at 11:23 PM, CalanoCorvus said:

Scene #109: Rain

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You take a step outside, and it’s like you’ve entered a different world.

You pass through the portal of your door, and the crisp, wet breeze runs through your hair.

You step into the street, and the drizzle comes down in gentle swirls, mixing with the wind.

You slide your foot across the damp ground, and your breath comes out in puffs of fog.

Rain.

A hand, gentle and delicate, slips softly into yours.

And you are pulled close, into a dance.

A dance amongst the raindrops.

A twirl amongst the cold.

A kiss, amidst the soft dampness of the world.

It muffles everything, the rain, leaving only you and them.

Only you.

Only them.

To twirl in the rain.

To dance with the breeze.

To hold and be held, on this cold, damp day.

It is a day filled with little things.

No troubles today.

No stresses.

No worries.

Just you, and just them.

Amidst the rain, amidst the breeze, amidst the cold, being held in their arms, your head tucked gently under their chin, as a bird tucks its lover under its wing.

Wonderful, wonderful to dance in the rain with them.

Wonderful, wonderful to kiss them under the gray.

Wonderful, wonderful to hold them in the breeze.

 

 

On 5/2/2023 at 3:39 PM, CalanoCorvus said:

Scene #110: All I Need.

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Let’s say, for a moment, that you know somebody.

Let’s say, for the sake of my argument, that you’ve fallen for this someone.

You’re head over heels. You’re absolutely infatuated with them.

And you wonder to yourself,

“Well, what do I do now?”

“How do I approach this? I don’t want to ruin our relationship by confessing… what if they don’t reciprocate?”

Well,

You can shove it all deep down, bottle it up, and forget about it, and just keep being friends with them,

Or,

You can take a chance. Say a word. Then another, and another, and another, until you’ve said all the words there are to say.

You could say nothing, or you could say everything.

You could avert your eyes, or look into theirs.

It’s up to you.

But I’ll say this,

If, in some way, they do reciprocate,

I am so happy for you. Treat them well, and be there for them.

Be there, help them, love them, and they will do the same.

And after a while, perhaps you’ll wonder,

“Well, what do I do now?”

“I’ve said so much, I’ve loved so much, what more can I do?”

There’s always more you can do.

Perhaps the reason you’ve said so much, loved so much, is because you’ve found the One.

You’ve found your person.

Your second half.

And if that’s the case,

I am so happy for you. Treat them even better, be there for them even more.

Hold on tight, and don’t let go.

They love you.

And you love them.

That’s all there needs to be.

That’s all I need there to be.

I love you.

And you love me.

And that’s all that I need.

 

 

On 8/23/2023 at 9:05 PM, CalanoCorvus said:

Scene 122: where were you?

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even as i lay in pain,

helpless in the summer rain,

 

even as i was dying,

you were lying.

 

where were you?

i needed you too.

 

i swore to love you all my life,

but now you've gone and left me in strife.

i

swore to you that i was yours,

but now, as the rain pours,

 

you're not here.

and i shed a tear,

 

or two,

for you.

 

 

On 8/25/2023 at 6:03 PM, CalanoCorvus said:

Scene 123: The Waves

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I stand at the edge of the sea.

The waves crash against the damp sand like time crashes against the shores of this world. Eroding it. Destroying it. Slowly eating it away, little by little.

It is night. The stars are out. Pinpricks in a fabric darker than darkness, in a cloth woven from nothing.

Why have I come here?

I look out over the waves, at the small sliver of the moon on the horizon, the gray peeking out over the infinite black and blue. I wonder why have I come here?

Why have I come to a place so alive, so loud, yet so dead, and so silent?

Why have I come to be alone in a place that is never lonely?

Why have I come here to die?

I had much to live for. I did. I had so much to accomplish, and so much to do, that I was never able to complete.

But, the waves came, and they took everyone away.

And they left me alone. The waves swept around me, and they took all of them away from me.

So I’ve come to confront them.

“Did you want me?” I ask the waves softly.

“Was I ever your target?” I ask, “Was it you wanted me dead, and I just evaded your capture? Or was it you wanted to see me suffer? Was it you wanted to break me, to tear me down so there was nothing left, so you could see what would happen?”

The waves do not respond. They just continue to endlessly beat against the sand. Forever and ever will they eat at the shoreline, until nothing remains, and all is waves.

“Well,” I say, “You have me now.”

I take a step forward, letting the seafoam brush up against my toes.

It is cold.

“You have me,” I repeat, “You’ve taken everything from me. So, you can just have me as well.”

I take another step. The water rushes over my feet. It is cold. Colder than ice.

“I have nothing left. No one who needs me, no one who wants me, no one who still cares about me. So, take me.”

I take another step. Then another. And another. The cold waves bite my skin as I walk further into their heartless embrace. It is up to my waist now.

I take another step. And another step. And another. And then another. My toes feel a drop at the end of the shoreline. A drop to nothing. And a drop to everything. A drop of silence, silence in the noise of the sea.

The water is up to my chest.

“You took my love from me, you took my humanity, you took my emotions,” I say, “So you can take me.”

I stand for a moment longer, letting myself breathe a few more breaths of the night air. I will not breathe it again, and only the moon, stars, and sea, will be witness to my demise.

“I’m done.” I whisper to the waves, and I step off the drop.

The sea overtakes my head, and I am encased in black.

This is my goodbye. An end witnessed by no man, yet witnessed by many. An end in silence, yet an end in shout.

 

 

On 1/12/2024 at 8:14 PM, CalanoCorvus said:

Scene #134: The Girl In The Stars, Pt. 2

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“I remember kissing you. Why do I remember kissing you?”

The illusion fades, and I’m staring once more at the harsh overhead lights of my hospital room.

I sigh, wondering once more who the girl was that I kissed.

And I wonder why she keeps appearing to me. I can’t decide if it’s like a nightmare or a dream.

The nurse walks in again.

“Good morning, Jordan,” He says, “I trust you slept well.”

“Yup.” I say. My vocal cords have been healing nicely, but there's still a little ways to go before they're fully healed. As such, my voice is still slightly scratchy. “About as well as I could have, considering all that’s happened.”

“How’re you feeling today? Scale of-”

“4. Pretty crummy,” I say, cutting him off, “I want to leave.”

“Well, that’s one point more than yesterday,” The nurse responds, and with an attempt at a comforting smile he says, “Don’t worry, you’ll be able to leave soon.”

He’s been saying that for three days. I’ve been in this room, in a hospital, for reasons that shouldn’t have put me in a hospital for this long, confused out of my mind because of things I can’t seem to remember, and he has the gall to give me that infuriating smile.

“Uh huh,” I say bitterly, “Need anything else, or can you leave me to my solitary confinement for another few hours?”

“Blood pressure, Jordan.”

He comes forward and straps a blood pressure cuff to my arm, and I sigh as he presses a button on the monitor and it begins to constrict my arm. I feel my arm begin to pulse in time with my heart rate, a reminder that yes, I’m still alive. Regrettably. He looks at the monitor once it beeps, nods once, and removes the cuff.

Without a word, he leaves.

I roll over in my bed, sighing and settling into the barely soft hospital bed. You’d think that with how much they make at this hospital with all their procedures, they’d be able to at the very least afford a decent mattress.

It’s funny because I can’t even remember the very first time I heard your name. How do you not remember something that made such a big difference in your life?

I smile to myself, remembering how oddly poetic and sentimental Kim could get. She always was just saying random things that came to mind-

Wait.

Kim. Kimberly.

I sit up, eyes wide. A name. I remember a name. Her name.

“Kimberly,” I say, testing the name on my lips. The lights flicker in my room.

My eyes begin to tear up. What the hell is happening? 

That same illusion from before fades into view once more. A view of darkness, full of light but empty and cold. It’s confusing, I know, but I literally do not know what else to call it. It’s just… yeah, it’s just empty and cold, very dark but full of light. Have fun with that.

In the center of that darkness a glowing ring begins to form, growing larger, warping everything around it.

I’ve seen this before, not just in this same illusion earlier, but this specifically. This black hole.

We named it Carol. Why the hell did we name it Carol? 

The black hole- Carol- grows, and eventually dominates the space in front of me. A bright flash comes from inside the black hole, and I look away, shielding my eyes.

The light fades.

I look back. Within Carol’s domain floats a girl.

“Jordan?” She asks, and her voice is far, far away, “Jordan? Are you there?”

I hesitate. “Kimberly?” I say tentatively, and watch her face light up.

“Jordan!” She shouts, her voice getting louder, “Jordan, oh my stars, you’re alive! Oh thank goodness!”

“Kim-”

“So much has happened, you won’t believe any of it, I’ve been trying to find a way to reach out to you-”

“Kimberly,” I say firmly, and she pauses, “What happened? I don’t remember anything, if anything even happened. I don’t know if I’m hallucinating or not right now, I’m so confused.”

“Where are you?” She asks softly, and I look around for any name of where I might be. My window is dark, so I can’t see outside. When I look back, Kim is suddenly standing right in front of my bed.

She looks around. “Oh,” She says, “You’re… here.”

“A hospital,” I say, “Not one I recognize though.”

“What do you remember?” She asks, seeming to ignore me.

“There was… a black hole,” I begin, “and you, and me, and I remember there was something tearing us apart, some strange force. You- you said you’d go through hell and back again for me.”

She nods. “You were screaming. You were in so much pain. Something was taking you away, something was wrong, and I don’t know what it is or was, and I’ve been looking for you for ages.”

“I don’t remember anything,” I say, and my heart aches with memories it can’t recall.

Her image flickers, and she blinks.

“I don’t have much time,” She says loudly, beginning to fade from view, “I’ll come find you. I’ll find a way, Jordan, I swear on the Stars I’ll come find you!”

“I-” But she’s gone.

Somehow that hurt me more than I thought it would.

I lay back on my pillows, and press my hands onto my face, groaning with the agony of a confused and definitely wounded mind, and a heart that feels things I can’t remember for the life of me.

“Girl in the stars,” I mutter, “Girl in the stars, what are you trying to do?”

Scene #135: Thank You For Staying With Me

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A sharp breath escaped Lina’s mouth.

She looked down at the blade going through her midsection. “Dah… Damn,” She wheezed out, “That stings.”

Her knees buckled, and she sank to the ground. Ali withdrew her blade, and the cloud of red vanished from her eyes. She saw the damage she’d done, and her heart shattered. Tears immediately formed in her eyes. Her head was spinning, she felt as if she might vomit, this couldn’t be happening.

“Lina, no,” She said, kneeling to try and staunch the bleeding from the wound in Lina’s stomach, “I didn’t mean to- I- I can fix it.”

Lina wheezed, face grimaced in pain. “It’s alright, it’s alright…” She said slowly, comfortingly, “I just need to… lay down.”

She slowly laid herself out on the ground with a grunt, then sighed.

Ali covered her mouth with her bloodstained hand, not caring. She was trying anything she could to stop the loud and anguished sobs coming from within her.

“Hey.. Hey,” Lina said, taking Ali’s hand in her own, “It’s alright, it’s okay.”

“I’m so sorry,” Ali whined, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t- It wasn’t me, I swear it wasn’t-”

“Shhh,” Lina soothed, “I know, darling, I know.”

They stayed there a bit, Ali hiccuping and sobbing, shaking with grief and remorse, Lina breathing weakly and unevenly.

“I’m sorry,” Ali mumbled through tears and saliva, “I’m sorry, I should’ve fought back.”

Lina smiled sadly. “I know it wasn’t you that killed me, Ali,” She said, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Thank you for staying with me.”

Ali leaned down, breathing heavily from her sobs, and pressed her forehead against Lina’s. “Always,” She said through quivering lips, “I’ll always stay with you.”

She pressed a small kiss to Lina’s lips.

“I love you,” She said, her breathing shallow.

Lina smiled. “I love you too,” She muttered.

Her eyelids fluttered. “Ma?” She asked, barely audible above Ali’s sobbing, before her eyes closed for good.

Ali squeezed her eyes shut, tears streaming down falling onto Lina’s cuirass. She pressed her forehead against Lina’s chest, heaving in agonizing grief.

 

I just... wow...

I have no words, but I have to find some... somewhere...

Umm....

Thank you, Calano...

thankyouthankyouthankyou-

[Going_North_cal]

You’re welcome.

Always a pleasure.

[Going_North_cal]

Hot dang has it really been 10 months since I last posted here.

Geez.

Okay so!! Some of these scenes I labeled as Cyrus/Attica scenes.

Right now, I'm working on expanding those scenes into a full fledged story. Those scenes are non-canon. They are inspiration and exploration into this world, which I've named Nalik. This story is... deep, dark, and dastardly. I'm really happy with how it's coming along, and it will be published. I fully intend to have this be a published novel, before I leave for my mission again in late February. I've already secured an ISBN, have a mostly designed cover, title, and page layout. This will be available on most online shopping platforms, and I'm really looking forward to sharing these stories with you all.

 

Cheers!!

[Going_North_cal]

Time to play catch-up!!

Boy do I have treats for y'all!

Scene #136: The Teacher, and Memory

Spoiler

“There is memory in all things,” The Teacher began, pacing back and forth behind his desk.

He stood at the front of a large lecture hall, filled with students. He loved when it was full.

He always thought that a curious mind seeking answers was the best kind of mind. So he welcomed those minds, with open arms, to his lectures.

The Teacher had become a professor of inspiration and fame at this institution. The institution was officially titled The University for the Discovery and Progression of Memory and Dreaming. But, due to the length and overcomplicated name, most University-goers simply called it ‘Memory.’

“And just as there is memory in all things,” The Teacher continued, “There are dreams.”

He stopped at his desk, and picked up a feather.

“Take, for example, this feather,” He stated, holding it up for the room to see. Pens and pencils throughout began scribbling. “This feather does not remember being a bird, but it does remember being a part of the bird. This feather does not dream of returning to the bird. No, this feather dreams of becoming a bird.”

A hand went up in the audience.

“Nicholas? A question? This early in the lecture?” The Teacher said.

“Teacher-”

“Please,” The Teacher interjected, “Call me Jericho.”

“...Teacher Jericho,” Nicholas hesitantly said, “How can a feather become a bird? Or even, how can a feather dream of becoming a bird? Lewis’ Laws of Dreams state that ‘an object without a clear or visible life or soul cannot dream, nor remember.’”

“Take note, my friends,” Jericho began, with a knowing and wrinkled smile, “As I explain that the ancient Laws of Dreams, as put forth by the venerated Professor Voltran Lewis, are outdated and based on mere ideas and radical theories. We teach them here, not because they are true, but because we can learn from them. We can build upon them. We can reflect upon them.”

Jericho set the feather down, and turned to the large blackboard behind him.

Gods above, he loved his job.

He picked up a piece of chalk and began to sketch. He drew three horizontal lines, and above each one wrote, “Spirit,” “Soul,” and “Self.”

“We understand now that the human condition is that of three separate conditions; Spirit, Soul, and Self. Or, less poetically, the Spiritual, Mental, and Physical aspects of our own beings. And I do say the ‘human condition,’ because we humans are the only species on this planet to understand such a condition.”

He pointed to the lowest line, titled “Self,” and said, “We know that our Self is our physical body. Inhabiting our physical body, our Self, is both our Soul and Spirit. Our Soul is the force or power within our brains. Our Soul is our brain, and our brain is our Soul. Our Spirit is the force or power that gives us the abilities of awareness, feeling, and dreaming. Our Spirit is what allows our Soul and Self to flourish.”

Jericho paused, letting the students write down his words. They drank of his words with such vigor, such hunger and ferocity. Nothing made him happier than a lecture hall full to bursting with hungry minds. Hungry Souls.

“Humans are special,” He continued, after the din of conversation had died down, “In that we are one of the few species with the gift of a separate Soul and Spirit. They are distinct, and yet work together. Most other species, and all non-living things, possess a Self and a Spirit. Their Spirit is their Soul and their Spirit. Both, together.”

He picked up the feather again, holding it up once more.

“This feather is a non-living thing,” He said, “Thus, it has a Self, and a Spirit. And only those two aspects! So, using its Spirit, its aspect of being contained in the Realma Spirita, the Realm of Spirits, it can remember and dream, just as we can. Less articulate, of course, but it can do those things. There are some in this room who possess the sought after and rare ability of Dreamsight. They can see into memories and dreams and the different aspects of those who Invite them to. With this feather, they would see that the dreams and memories of it are connected. They feed off of each other, looping around and around.”

He paused again, and took a drink from the canteen on his desk.

“Humans are able to use a memory or a dream as a starting point, and expand outward. And we are able to do this and not loop back, like this feather.”

Another hand in the audience went up slowly.

“Yes,” Jericho asked, pointing at the student, “You there, you have a question?”

“Yes, Teacher Jericho,” The student began. She thought for a moment, opening and closing her mouth. Then she asked, “I came here on the recommendation of a friend of mine, as he was saying that your lectures are visionary and idyllic, but that there is something firm and truthful within as well. And forgive any offense, but I am struggling to understand the importance of such knowledge.”

“Are you familiar with Lewis’ essay on The Use of Memory?” Jericho inquired.

“Of course,” The student replied, “But I don’t understand-”

“‘The recollection,’” Jericho interjected, “‘of past experiences allows for greater thought, knowledge, and understanding in many- if not all- fields of exploration and expansion. It allows for reverse engineering of the task at hand, and it allows for mindfulness and human advancement.’”

There was a silence. “What is your name?” Jericho asked the student.

“Orchid, Teacher.” She replied.

“Orchid, the reason we speak of Memory and Dreams in these halls is because they are the foundation for all other thoughts. Memory and Dreaming combine in ways we can’t even begin to imagine.”

He turned to address the rest of the classroom as Orchid sat back in thought.

“My friends, look above you. Look below you. Look to your left, and to your right. Everything you see, the lights on the ceiling, the small light fixtures in your desks, the carefully crafted and precisely measured dimensions of the floors and walls, all of this began as a Dream. A figment of the imagination. And as that Dream was pondered, expanded upon, and then put to paper as blueprints, it became Memory. And it continued to become Memory as it was built, as it was changed, as it was lived in and learned in. That is the nature of all things.”

The class was silent, hanging on his every word.

“That will be all for today. I know it was short, but I have a pressing appointment to get to. Farewell, students.”

The students began to bustle around, talking about the lecture, packing up their things, and beginning to exit.

Teacher Jericho looked down at his desk, packed his things, and exited quietly out the side door. 

He pointedly left the feather on the desk.

Scene #137: The King

Spoiler

Since the dawn of time, only one King has ever lived. Since the dawn of time, there has only ever been the King. Before the King, there was nothing. Nothing of import, at least. It was simply… dust.

The King arrived, and the dust became more. For thousands of years, the King ruled. People would whisper that transitions between the Kings were so smooth, some thought it was still the First King. Some tried to peer into the comings, goings, and policies of the King, to see if such whisperings were true. They paid attention.

And the King hated when people paid attention. He had given them everything. Nothing, from dust. A polished rose, from a heap of scrap metal. A white field, full of grain, from dry and dead soil.

But still, they stared. They squinted. They inquired.

Ungrateful, He thought to himself, Do they not know what I have done for them? What my Fathers have done for them?

The paupers in the streets; they called the King the Wicked One.

They knew he was wicked.

Men and friends testified of his wickedness in the streets. And then, men and friends were no longer.

The people quickly learned to stay quiet.

All this power, all this hush around the King, all this myth, legend, and lore encircling about him.

It had corrupted Him, and his Forefathers before him.

Schools taught children of the Forefathers. The Kings before the King. They whispered in rumor, but taught what the King said was true.

There were apparently three gods in this land, but also only one god.

The King was god.

The First King was god.

The Forefathers were god.

And the people? The people didn’t want to worship an oppressive and tyrannical god.

But, the people also enjoyed living. Even if the living was in squalor, it was better than death.

Scene #138: Autumn

Spoiler

Fall is quite possibly my favorite season.

I think it always has been. My mother says that when I was small, and the leaves first fell that autumn, that I asked if they were dying.

My mother said, “No, of course not. They’re taking a nap. They’re falling to the ground, and settling down to sleep through the winter.”

Once I grew up, I found out the leaves were actually dying. Not like, in a melancholy way, but they were biologically dying because they were separated from the tree.

But, even though it was a fact of life, and that they were dying, what my mother said always stuck with me. My friends would say that fall was a season of bitter breezes, and sharp scents. I would say that fall was a season of lovely leaves, and soothing scenery.

The only bad part about fall was how unrelentingly short it was. It was always the perfect form of fall for about two or three weeks, before giving way to a harsh, cold, and angry winter that lasted for months. Spring was always humid, summer was tolerable, and winter was cruel. But fall was always kind to me.

I hope it continues to be kind, despite the hells plaguing this world. I always find comfort in the colors fall brings. A break from the rainbow of spring, green of summer, and white of winter. A mix of warm and cozy oranges, yellows, reds, and browns.

Scene #139: Earth, Sea, and Sky

Spoiler

Humankind seeks to be inspired,

Seeks inspiration from

Earth,

The Sea,

The Sky.

Humankind seeks to find meaning in everything,

To find purpose in all things,

To find reason,

Amidst the ruin and rage of this world.

A great writer once said,

‘Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day.

Rage,

Rage,

Against the dying

Of the light.’

We should not go gentle

Into that good

Night.

We should burn

And rave

At close of day.

We should not be ashamed,

At our shortcomings.

We should fight, for forgiveness.

Fight to be whole.

Fight for peace.

Accept our mistakes,
Weaknesses,

Frailties.

Accept them with humility, strength

And peace.

What’s done is done.

Move on.

Do better.

You seek to be inspired.

Seeking inspiration from

Earth,

The Sea,

The Sky.

You seek to find meaning in everything.

My dear child,

When will you see…

You are the inspiration.

You are the meaning.

You are the Earth,

The Sea, and the Sky.

You are everything.

Scene #140: Re-write of Scene #1. Titled "Different."

Spoiler

“Mama,” The young boy said, tugging at the skirts of his mother.

His mother looked down, her face dotted with flour from her baking. She smiled, patted his cheek, and went back to her baking.

“Yes, William?” She asked as her son wiped the flour handprint from his face with a confused smile. “Did you need something?”

“Mama,” William repeated, and pointed to the roundness of his mothers abdomen. “When will it get here?”

“Any day now,” She said, placing a hand gingerly atop her pregnant belly, “I think it’s going to be a girl.”

A furrow appeared between William’s eyebrows. “I wanted a baby brother,” He said, and gave a small huff.

His mother couldn’t help but smile. Oh, she knew he was upset; She had been upset too at his age, when she found out she was getting a brother, and not a sister like she had wanted. But, she had loved her brother. And still did.

She visited his grave every Sunday.

“I know you did,” She said to her son, washing her hands in the sink next to her workspace, “It’s sad, and upsetting when we don’t get what we want, isn’t it?”

William nodded as his mother dried her hands. She knelt down, taking her son’s small hands in her own.

“You will have to take care of her, William,” She said softly, looking at her son, “You and Papa will have to do your part, and keep her safe.”

William nodded, not fully understanding what his mother was saying.

“I won’t-” She continued, but paused. “I won’t always be able to. Sometimes, it’ll be just up to you. Up to you to care for your little sister.”

“And Papa will help me!” William replied with a smile.

His mother smiled, “When he can. But it’ll be hard for him.”

“Why?” He asked, looking up at his mother.

Ever since birth, he’d had these big, green eyes. Eyes that wanted to know everything, learn all about the spiders, the beetles, the grass, and the leaves. Her son's eyes made her weak. She often thought that that was simply what it was like to have a son.

“William,” She said softly, “I need you to pay attention.”

He nodded, eyes wide, but his mouth a line. He was focused.

“Your sister will be…” She paused, wondering what word to use to help explain this to a seven year old, “Different. She will notice things that others don’t. She will realize things that even the smartest grown-ups don’t.”

She stopped talking for a moment, letting her son take all that in. Letting him process it.

“She will have visions,” She said, “She will see me, in those visions. You won’t understand why, and neither will she at first. In time, it will become clearer. To both of you.”

William nodded, eyes still wide.

“Are you going away?” He asked. His mother smiled softly. This was one of the sadder parts of having a son who was so very perceptive.

“...Yes.” She said softly.

“Will you be coming back?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I’ll miss you.”

“I know.”

“Does Papa know?”

“Yes.”

“Is he sad?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll take care of her.”

“I know you will.”

“I love you, Mama.”

“I love you, William.”

Scene #141: Not Dead

Spoiler

“I’m not… dead, am I?”

No.

“Then what is this?”

What does it feel like?

“A dream. No, a nightmare.”

Then that is what it is.

“Why does it… feel so empty?”

Why do you feel so empty?

“...I don’t know.”

Yes, you do.

“Do I?”

Oh, yes. I’m afraid you know it all too well. That is why you are here.

“...Is this some kind of mental breakdown?”

Does it feel like a mental breakdown?

“When are you going to give me a straight answer?”

As soon as you give yourself a straight answer.

“What does that even mean?”

You tell me.

“I’m not dead.”

Yes.

“I’m alive.”

Yes.

“Am I happy?”

Are you?

“...No.”

Then you are not.

“I’m in pain.”

You are.

“And this is my escape from the pain.”

It is.

“It hurts so much.”

Yes.

“Can you take it from me?”

I cannot. Not yet.

“Why? You would let me suffer here? Indefinitely?”

It is not because of me, that you suffer.

“Who is it because of?”

Yourself.

“What?”

Yourself.

“I heard you, I just- Why would I cause this to myself?”

…

“...I hurt someone, didn’t I?”

…

“Answer me. Did I hurt somebody?”

…Yes.

“Who?”

The one person you swore never to hurt.

“Liar.”

I cannot lie.

“That’s exactly what a liar would say.”

I am you, Silvia.

“What have I done?”

Something terrible. Something painful. Something that makes it…

“What? Makes it what?”

Something that is difficult to forgive.

“I don’t understand.”

Neither does he.

“Who?”

The one you hurt.

“...Oh.”

Yes.

“Him.”

Yes.

“Will you tell him I’m sorry?”

You do that yourself, Silvia.

“But you are me.”

And you are me. You are yourself. You must do this.

“It’s hard.”

These things are. You will do your best though.

“Okay.”

Scene #142: Inertia and Entropy

Spoiler

Inertia.

Entropy.

Objects in motion.

Objects decaying.

Can’t escape.

Yet can’t backtrack.

Constantly moving,

Not out of choice, more out of

Necessity.

Constant decay,

Constant stress.

‘I guess this is just who I am.’

‘I said I would start working out, but I’m really hungry,

‘And screw you,

‘I’m trying.’

Mostly fighting off decay,

Mostly fighting forward,

No emotion,

Yet so much emotion.

An endless night,

A night without darkness.

Yet somehow,

I know it is night.

Entropy. Constant entropy.

Inertia. Constant inertia.

Scene #143: A scene I wrote just because I wanted to write something based in Stormlight. Takes place before the Desolations, but after humans arrive from Ashyn. Written before I read WaT, so there's no spoilers.

Spoiler

Kalak stepped softly, the soft soil and waving grass compressing slightly underfoot. He approached the Monument quickly, yet quietly, giving it the due respect it deserved.

The Monument was a reminder. A reminder of all that his people had lost; and all that his people had found. The curses that cast them out, and the blessings that accepted them here.

The Monument to the Ten Burning Suns. A collection of ten curving spires, rising up to twice that of Kalak’s height. At the top of each of the spires, the last few inches had been sheared off, replaced instead by one of each of the ten gemstones- polestones, as the native people called them- cut and curved to match the shape and height of the spire. The result was something akin to a spear and its spearhead, although much smoother, and less able to be wielded by man. When the sun rose, and when the sun set, the gemstones caught the fading light, and burst with it. Magnifying it, changing it, if only for a moment, to seem as if it were fire.

It was a testament to the perseverance of humanity. From their flight from their planet, to their blessings from the people of this planet, in being allowed this section of land to the west. Somehow, this was the only part of land on this entire continent that was remotely similar to the lands back home. Everything else was stone. Endless, cold, hard stone.

Kalak stepped up to the monument, resting his hand on the spire ending in amethyst. He’d always felt a kinship with amethyst after arriving here, on this planet. Roshar, the natives called it. His planet had been Ashyn, and one of their elders, called Ishar, had found a way to transport them from Ashyn to Roshar.

His planet had broken. Been broken. Had been torn apart by powers that the singers- Roshar’s natives- were terrified of. ‘Spren and surges,’ they called it. Powers they had been forbidden to touch by their Gods.

Footsteps approached from behind Kalak. He turned, seeing a middle aged man, holding the hand of a small girl. Jezrien, and his daughter, Shalash.

“Jezrien,” He said, smiling and walking up to him, “How are you, my friend?”

Jezrien smiled, picking up his daughter. “I am well, thank you. These weeks have been hard, but this land accepts our seeds and livestock well.”

Kalak nodded, “It does. And everything is not on fire, for once.”

Jezrien laughed, but it felt forced. Perhaps it was still too soon. Jezrien looked up at the monument as well, and Kalak turned to look upon it as well.

“Did we do the right thing, Kalak?” Jezrien asked. “Ishar says that he thinks it could’ve been done better, that maybe we could’ve gone somewhere else. But, we’re here now. Was it right to come here?”

Kalak thought for a moment. The singers had been suspicious of them, questioning them about where their carapace was, why they didn’t seem to have gemhearts, and all these other strange terms that the humans didn’t recognize. But, they had given them this land, which they called Shikan, meaning ‘soft lands,’ in their tongue.

“I think we did the best we could,” Kalak said, “It definitely could have been much worse. We could’ve ended up stranded in whatever that place was. Or on a completely different planet from this one.”

“Will it be enough?” Shalash, the girl, said from Jezrien's arms. “Will we be safe?”

Surprisingly wise and important questions from a girl so young.

“Let’s hope so,” Jezrien said, kissing his daughter's head.

Scene #144: I Wouldn't Change Anything

Spoiler

“I wouldn’t change anything.”

“You wouldn’t? Even at the end of everything?”

“Even then. Especially then, I think.”

“Darling…”

“You bring such peace, do you know that?”

“I thought I did. But after everything… I don’t know that anymore. I’ve… lost that knowledge.”
“Knowledge can’t be lost. Merely misplaced.”
“When did you become a wise old man?”

“Ten minutes ago, when you tore out my youth.”

“...I’m sorry.”

“No, you aren’t.”

“All this time… you think it means so little? To me?”

“I might think that.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Am I? Would you have really ended all this? If you really thought that?”

“I won’t answer that.”

“Heh. Yeah, of course not.”

“The end of everything… a bit dramatic, no?”

“Fitting. You always had a flare for that sort of thing. Not surprised you’d keep it up here. Are you going to keep changing the subject? Or are you going to do me a favor and finally leave?”

”...”

”Right. No answer. I’ll be the first to go then.”

Scene #145: Worldblaze

Spoiler

When they arrived, we called them “alani kolog.” It meant “Those Ones Of Fire.” Because they brought flame, fire, and death wherever they went. The north was scorched quickly because of them.

People fled south, as far south as they could. Our firefighters, our “kol deloci,” did their best,  Gods bless them. But the Alani Kolog were relentless, like a wildfire fueled by more than just wind and heat. A wildfire fueled by pure rage. As far south as Caolit, the smoke from their blazes could be seen. Over time, it seemed that it was growing. Or getting closer.

The first city to fall was in the Midnorth sector, the city of Birach. It didn’t last long, unfortunately, and fell within a day. Fire burned the outskirts, and blazed through downtown like water moving downhill. The alani kolog laid waste to Birach. The smoke was seen for miles.

The silence that emerged from the city, after the firestorm, was devastatingly loud.

The Kolog moved south. And they moved east and west. They took the north fast.

The kol deloci fought the flames—and the Kolog—as best they could. But their flames were hotter than conventional blazes. The scenes left behind, the devastation described by witnesses… it was described as otherworldly. Apocalyptic. Worldending.

The smoke, the orange sky, the ash, it affected everyone.

The Kolog were, and are relentless. They will not stop until our world burns. Witnesses have reported hearing their strange chants.

While no one on this planet speaks their language, linguists have tried their best to at the very least confine what the witnesses repeated to written language.

“Yal Lorimo! Yal Diacora! Lay Vreemo!”

No one knows what it means. But they are always shouting this chant. The Kolog shout it after a kill, after a flareup in the flames, after a city is taken. Best the linguists and officers can tell, it’s a victory chant.

No one knows.

No one understands.

Barely anyone survives. It was months before we put into writing those chants.

Even as I write this rushed history of the Worldblaze, the Kolog push further and further south. We have nearly been pushed to the coast. They are soon at our doorstep, mere miles from taking the whole of the continent.

These alani kolog, these Ones of Fire…

This world will not last long. Not while they push forward. Not while we have yet to find a weakness in them. Reports flow in every day. Charred remains to the north. Black sand, black soil, black everything. No trees. No civilizations. Nothing. Just endless smoke, heat, and ash.

The Alani Kolog… The firebringers.

They bring death.

We cannot stop them. We cannot kill them. We cannot douse their otherworldly blazes.

They burn, and they burn, and they burn. The king, and his city of Ploatia, fell sixteen days ago.

We are without leadership. We are without resources. Our kol deloci, our firefighters, are stretched thin, and begin to falter and fail.

We are doomed. The Worldblaze is our end. Our destruction.

Scene #146: Nutcase

Spoiler

Ever been in the forest at night? Nah, me neither.

My friend though, he’s been in the forest, at night, loads of times. And I just mean loads and loads of times.

Like, at least six times a week. Maybe more. He’s always back there.

How do I know this? Like hell I’ma tell you. That’s proprietary information right there. What kinda businessman/storyteller would I be if I just told you why he’s always in the forest at night?

Fools, all of ya.

First of all, there’s two things y’all should know about my friend. No, you won’t know his name. It’s Jim, but I’m not gonna tell you that his name’s Jim.

Thing one: He’s a friggin weirdo. I know people say that about other people a whole lot, but like, Jim is a real nutcase, y’know?

Thing two: He smells like smoke. All. The. Time. And not cigarette smoke, none of that tobacco or anything. I mean sharp, woody, smoky, like he’s been standing downwind of a bonfire or sum’n.

So. My friend; near nightly forest trips; nutcase; constant campfire smoke smell. Weird combo, right?

Well, one night. I decided to track him. Decided to follow him. I ain’t a hunter, so it was not easy. Fun, but not easy. Lost him a couple times, he’s slippery.

Anyways, finally caught up to him. And he was doing something… completely normal.

Well, when I say completely normal, I mean it wasn’t something involving the gods, demons, or a cult of some kind. But, it also wasn’t what I expected.

Apparently, he’d been going into the forest a bunch, because he had some kind of secret lover. The secret lover in kind, was a damn nymph.

Here I was, thinking he was involved with aliens, or something. People from the sky, or like… shoot I don’t know, something unnatural.

But he was just… getting down and dirty with a nymph! A river nymph, who apparently walked six miles a night to do this from her river.

I know that because I got the story outta him like the next morning after I followed him. It was real funny. Hadda explain to him that it’s not forbidden to date/hook up with a nymph. Pretty acceptable actually.

Like I said: nutcase. Weirdo.

He’s a good fella though. Him an’ that nymph been goin’ steady for a while now. She’s real sweet.

He’s still an idiot though.

Enjoy all that!!! You're all caught up now!!!

[Edema Rue she/her]

Cal you’re a queen y’know that

Autumn is probably my favorite, it’s literally the definition of hygge (which is one of my favorite things, look it up because I can’t explain it right)

I love the different tones for all of them, they were so fun to read and your rewrite of Different is also probably my favorite

[Going_North_cal]

1 hour ago, Edema Rue said:

Cal you’re a queen y’know that

I consider it my highest honor to have been called "A Queen" by you, Eddie.

[Edema Rue she/her]

43 minutes ago, Medium said:

I consider it my highest honor to have been called "A Queen" by you, Eddie.

…

…

Put it on your resume

[Going_North_cal]

17 hours ago, Edema Rue said:

…

…

Put it on your resume

Yes, Your Majesty.

[Going_North_cal]

Scene #147: I Don't Remember

Spoiler

I don’t remember much from that night. I don’t remember the range of the lightbulbs, whether it was warm or cool. I don’t remember the stone used for the countertops. I don’t remember what color the tile on the floor was. I don’t remember what he’d said.

I do remember the color red. The color red, and the color green. Complimentary colors, but in that moment, complete opposites. Red meant death, in that kitchen. And green meant life. Green usually means life, but in this instance, it meant a twisted version of life.

Rather than the usual happy-go-lucky ‘life pushes on’ type of green, this was a ‘you have been allowed to live, and see your destruction’ type of green. It was bitter, and sour, and it burned my tongue.

Limes, and the juice therein, sprinkled among the pool of red. Red, seeping into the grout of the tiles. Red, staining the wooden cabinets, marring their mid-century modern look.

Blood, from his own veins and arteries, like a viscous pool. The musty, metallic smell filled that kitchen. It mixed with the scent of the limes, to create a smell I can only describe as what a knife must certainly smell like. It smelled like death, death that was bitter, and sour, and burned your tongue.

I don’t remember his final words. I only remember him gasping for breath, gasping for life, gasping for green. Hoping he could push on, but only seeing the last of his destruction. He bled red, and I cried green. My eyes burned, from the acid. I doused myself in it, anything to get the red off of my soul.

The cuts burned. The holes ached. I hurt, I was hurting. But I sat in the corner.

Screaming. Screaming and screaming.

Who had hurt me? Did I hurt myself? Did he hurt me? In my haze of memories, I tried to figure out if he lashed out in defense of himself, or if I brought these cuts upon myself as punishment.

My red mixed with his. But I couldn't tell the difference between what was his and what was mine. It all smelled the same.

 

[Edema Rue she/her]

4 hours ago, Medium said:

Scene #147: I Don't Remember

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I don’t remember much from that night. I don’t remember the range of the lightbulbs, whether it was warm or cool. I don’t remember the stone used for the countertops. I don’t remember what color the tile on the floor was. I don’t remember what he’d said.

I do remember the color red. The color red, and the color green. Complimentary colors, but in that moment, complete opposites. Red meant death, in that kitchen. And green meant life. Green usually means life, but in this instance, it meant a twisted version of life.

Rather than the usual happy-go-lucky ‘life pushes on’ type of green, this was a ‘you have been allowed to live, and see your destruction’ type of green. It was bitter, and sour, and it burned my tongue.

Limes, and the juice therein, sprinkled among the pool of red. Red, seeping into the grout of the tiles. Red, staining the wooden cabinets, marring their mid-century modern look.

Blood, from his own veins and arteries, like a viscous pool. The musty, metallic smell filled that kitchen. It mixed with the scent of the limes, to create a smell I can only describe as what a knife must certainly smell like. It smelled like death, death that was bitter, and sour, and burned your tongue.

I don’t remember his final words. I only remember him gasping for breath, gasping for life, gasping for green. Hoping he could push on, but only seeing the last of his destruction. He bled red, and I cried green. My eyes burned, from the acid. I doused myself in it, anything to get the red off of my soul.

The cuts burned. The holes ached. I hurt, I was hurting. But I sat in the corner.

Screaming. Screaming and screaming.

Who had hurt me? Did I hurt myself? Did he hurt me? In my haze of memories, I tried to figure out if he lashed out in defense of himself, or if I brought these cuts upon myself as punishment.

My red mixed with his. But I couldn't tell the difference between what was his and what was mine. It all smelled the same.

 

Ahhhhh I love this style of describing things :DD