I realized I had posted this somewhere else, but not here, so here you go.
*WARNING* Well, I'm not good at poetry, so just be aware of that. Also, I wrote this when I was super frustrated and feeling kinda depressed, so be aware of that as well. *END WARNING*
Do You Know What It’s Like
An attempt at poetry
Do you know what it’s like
To sit alone at lunch every day for three years
Do you know what it’s like
To be lonely, even in a crowd
Do you know what it’s like
To pray every day for a single friend
who won’t leave you like the rest have
Do you know what it’s like
To not be able to remember
the last time you received a genuine compliment
from one of your family members
Do you know what it’s like
To wish you were invisible
because that would be better than the apathy
Do you know what it’s like
To spend so long being down
that you don’t remember what it’s like to be up
Do you know what it’s like
To wonder if anyone would notice if you left
Do you know what it’s like
To be shamed for doing the things you love
Do you know what it’s like
To smile as your world comes crashing down
Do you know what it’s like
To fail at the one thing
you were told you were good at
Do you know what it’s like
To be expected to spread hope
even as the world only gives you hate
Do you know what it’s like
To wish you could say you were okay
without it being a lie
Do you know what it’s like
To be talked about behind your back
Do you know what it’s like
To wonder if anyone cares
Do you know what it’s like
To have everything you do never be good enough
because you are the one who did it.
Do you know what it’s like
To be me?
*Note* So, originally this poem was my attempt at writing a song, but a) I can't play any accompanying instrument, and b) I had no idea what anything besides rest of the song should be, so I decided to post it here. I hope you guys enjoy! (Also, I know the title has nothing to do with the poem itself, but it actually would have tied in if I ever finished the song)
Every day is a challenge
A mountain you have to surpass
And you go about trying
To measure up at last
Some days you feel golden
Like you've won a great big prize
And you feel the love
And feel the strength inside
But then it all changes
And nothing is the same
But then it all changes
And you feel like you're the one to blame
Your world is spinning out of control
And you know that you're broken
But you want to look whole
So you hide all your pain
All your sorrow and heartache
And you carry it alone
Letting it push until... you... break.
*Note* This is a beginning to a possible story. Feedback welcome and appreciated! *End Note*
Atee stuck to the shadows as he crept through the alleyway. The whole point of stalking someone was to not let them know you were following them. His cloak helped him hide- it was one of the fourteen items, after all. The Forgotten Cloak.
All of a sudden, the person Atee was following dodged around a few people, making Atee lose sight of them. “Sights!” Atee cursed, starting to jog. They were nowhere to be found. “Come back!” he hissed under his breath, checking over his shoulder before crossing the street. A few wagons clomped by lazily, but he was able to avoid those without much trouble.
“Where’d you go,” he mused thoughtfully, pausing by an old abandoned building.
“I’m right here.” Hands grabbed at Atee, covering his mouth. His scream stopped short and his eyes were quickly blindfolded. His cloak was ripped off, and he felt himself become… different.
“Knock him out,” a different voice said. Atee thrashed, but quickly another set of hands pinned him down, and a sweet smelling rag was placed over his nose. He tried as long as he could to hold his breath, but it wasn’t long before it all faded to black.
—
“Wake him up.”
“He’s coming around, boss.” Atee blinked slowly, the light setting off a painful headache as it hit his eyes. He thrashed, struggling to think through things.
What? What had- yes. Everything came back to him in a flash. He had been following Knaa. Then… then what? He… he had been caught? How? He was wearing the Forgotten Cloak.
The Forgotten Cloak! Atee tried to lift his hands, but they were tied tightly to the chair.
“Where?” Atee asked. Or rather, thanks to the gag in his mouth, he asked, “gheair?”
“See! I told you he was coming around, boss!” That came from a man off to the side. He was wearing a short brown trench coat and hat with a peaked brim. Atee glared at him.
“So you did,” a man said, stepping forward directly into Atee’s line of sight.
Tall and masculine, the man had a black mask covering his nose and eyes. His monochromatic outfit really set off the look, highlighting his pale blue eyes.
Grabbing Atee’s chin, the man tilted Atee’s face from side to side, looking at him. “Thsssoppt st,” Atee hissed.
“Remove it,” the man said coldly, releasing Atee. The man with the brown trench coat stepped forward, then took out the gag. Atee spat, clearing his throat.
“Now what was that?” the man asked pleasantly, folding his hands in front of him. Atee scowled, saying nothing.
“Hmm, nothing to say?” The man took a step back. “Well, that’s okay, I can do all the talking. My name is Kiil, and you are clearly Atee, the holder of the 12th object.”
“How do you know that? How did you find me?” Atee blurted out. He never had been good at holding his tongue. It was part of why he needed the cloak.
“It was pretty obvious,” Kiil said in response to his first question, turning slightly to the side to show that he was wearing Atee’s cloak.
“You realize you can’t control it, right?” Atee said, straining against his bonds. “You don’t have the Code.”
Kiil twisted to look eerily at Atee. “Not yet I don’t,” the man said ominously.
Oh sights no. Please no. Every fiber of Atee’s being wanted to hide, to run. But he couldn’t. He was stuck.
“You won’t break me,” Atee said weakly, his voice faltering.
“Oh,” Kiil said. “I will. I have.”
“What do you mean?” Atee flinched as Kiil put his face in close.
“It means I know how to do this.” Kiil said, taking a finger and laying it lightly on Atee’s neck, right where the scar was. Then he pressed down.
Agony flared through Atee, white and hot. Lights flashed across his vision and he constricted, muscles tensing.
The pain lessened for a moment, and Atee inhaled sharply, gulping air. “W-what?” he sputtered. Kiil, a fuzzy blur to Atee, took a step back, seeming pleased with himself.
“I know things,” Kiil said. “And, to answer your question, you can’t be forgotten if we never lose sight of you.” Atee was shaken. They knew about his Point, and they knew about the Flaw of the Twelfth item. How?
“Now,” Kiil said. “Tell me the Code.”
“N-never.” Atee braced himself, but nothing could dull the flash of pain that tore through him as Kiil pressed down on his Point again.
“Let’s try this again.” Kiil’s voice turned cold, and he met Atee’s tear filled eyes. “What is the Code?”
“I won’t tell you,” Atee hissed. Kiil pressed down on Atee’s Point once more, and Atee forced himself to go limp after a moment, feigning unconsciousness.
“What?” Kiil said, his grip on Atee loosening. “Why did he go limp?”
“He must have passed out from the pain, boss.” That would be the minion. Atee slowed his breathing and just listened.
“No! I need that Code!” There was a clatter- likely Kiil tipping over the table that was in the corner of the room.
“Just go back again, boss. Use the item.”
“This will be the fourteenth time. We can’t use it now.”
“It only has side effects to those who know about it being used. He’s unconscious. He doesn't know anything, boss.”
After a moment, Kiil spoke. “Fine. Put your hand on it.”
Taking a huge gamble, Atee peered out through his eyelashes, squinting to make it less obvious. In his hand, Kiil held an antique watch. The servant placed a finger around the edge, and Kiil slowly cranked it back, rewinding the hands a bit.
Wait. What was that? Atee noticed a small etching along the side of the clock. His eyes opened completely as he realized it was in the shape of the number eleven. That meant…
Kiil released the winding of the clock, and everything dissolved into colors and light.
—
Atee stuck to the shadows as he crept through the alleyway. The whole point of stalking someone was to not let them know you were following them. His cloak helped him hide- it was one of the fourteen items, after all. The Forgotten Cloak.
All of a sudden, the person Atee was following dodged around a few people, making Atee lose sight of them. “Sights!” Atee cursed, starting to jog. They were nowhere to be found. “Come back!” he hissed under his breath, checking over his shoulder before- Wait. He had done this before.
A sort of awareness came to Atee, jolting him and bringing him to a stop. What was going on?
He remembered… he remembered… he remembered the pain. The flashes of agony. He remembered the man, Kiil, and the object. The eleventh object.
He had to go.
Whispering a silent command to his cloak, Atee faded away into the shadows.
*Note* So this is pretty much the poem I have been writing over the past few days. It gets pretty dark, so just be aware of that. But that's because it is how I feel right now. So, uh, yeah. Enjoy! *End Note*
End of School
stress
stress
stress
everything hanging by a thread
teetering
teetering
about to tip
all I'm doing is trying to hold my grip
stumbling
stumbling
falling to the ground
doesn't anyone want me around?
pain
agony
a voice in my head whispers "Why even try?
You'll never be good enough
You'll never be great
And you'll never, no never, be more than your mistakes."
truth?
lies?
a grey inbetween
all I really want is just to be seen
panic
panic
I can't see right
I can't tell now- should I still even fight?
"There are people who care," they say
"There are people who understand."
but if there were
wouldn't they lend me a hand?
I'm trying
I'm trying
I'm trying a lot
but it's hard to continue when you just.
keep.
falling.
short.
So, I haven't been posting a lot here recently. That is not because I haven't been writing- it's because I've been working on a new story, and it is exclusively in PMs.
If you guys want to read it, just post here, the thread I made for it, or PM me.
I realize most of the people that will see this have already posted in the thread, but I figured it couldn't hurt!
Thank you!
*Note* So, this story was written for a deadline, so the ending is kinda rushed. It's a cool concept in theory, but I dunno if I do it very well. I hope you enjoy! *End Note*
Colorless
By Lexie Orgill
I don’t know what called me to the house that night. The house on the corner of the street, at the end of the city. The one that people hurried by in broad daylight and didn’t dare go near it at night. The one that was so different from my cozy apartment, filled with pillows and silly stuffed animals that my sister loved.
Anything, really, could have brought me there. It could have been the wind blasting against the shutters, creating an eerie moan that echoed through the empty street. It could have been the shadows, appearing in the corner of my eye, then disappearing before I could get a good look at them. However, the most likely reason was the lights, dancing back and forth, stringing me on a path I didn’t want to follow, yet I couldn't help it. I was too curious to not.
No matter the reason I made it to the house, the creaking, creepy house on the corner of 50th and 10th, once I was there, there was no going back.
I slowly knocked on the door, not sure what I would find. For one nail-biting moment, nothing happened. I slowly rocked back and forth on the balls of my feet, anxiously waiting for something, anything, to happen. Just as I started back to my lean-to, the door opened a crack, creaking loudly as it did so. A man peered out at me, far older than I expected. His eyes watched me, sizing me up, yet not giving anything away. As I met his gaze, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth before he shut the door.
“Hey!” I cried, lifting my fist to knock again. Just then, the door opened again, this time all the way. The old man stood there, looking amused. I flushed, embarrassed, and dropped my arm back to my side.
“Sorry about that.” He said slowly. “I had to release the chain that held the door, and I had to close the door to do that.” It was the first time I had heard him speak, and I wondered about his curious tone and odd accent. “Follow me,” he ordered, shuffling into the house. He had a slight limp, which I thought was confusing. All those who went into the government office could get a brace or surgery or something. All you had to do was get a teeny injection in your arm.
“Close the door on your way in,” the old man called a moment later, almost as an afterthought. Shaking my head to clear it, I strode inside, shutting the door as I stepped in. Slowly, the old man walked up a set of stairs, with me right on his heels. When we reached the top, he paused, his brow wrinkling. “Listen to me. What we do and say tonight, you cannot repeat to anyone. Understood?” I nodded, practically quivering with excitement as he nodded in return.
He then procured a deep golden key. It looked as if it had words written on the side. I leaned in, trying to get a closer look, but he inserted it into the door ahead of us before I could. The door creaked open loudly, revealing a large room filled almost entirely with books. I practically leapt into the room. I grinned widely, my fingers brushing against the well-worn spines of the books.
“You can read them.” I whirled around. “Really? I can?”
“Yes,” he replied. “So long as you do something for me in return.” I eyed him suspiciously. “What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing, really.” He gave me a slow, eerie smile. “I just want you to tell the world about colors.”
“Colors?” I asked. “What are those?” The old man let out a slow sigh. “Right…” His voice trailed off slowly, leaving him looking thoughtful. “Right what?” When he didn’t reply, I turned away, itching to know what he was talking about, yet not wanting to look like I was. So, instead, I extracted a small book, gently blowing on it to get rid of the dust. It said, “The Colors of the World” on the cover. “Are these what you were talking about?” I asked, holding up the book. The old man did a double take as he saw me with the book in hand. “How did you find that book?” He cried, leaping forward and snatching it out of my hand.
“It was right here on the shelf,” I sighed impatiently. The old man tapped his feet slowly, then, letting out a sigh of defeat, handed me the book back. “Yes. These are what I was talking about. You can’t see them, though, can you?”
“See what?” I said curiously. “Nothing,” He sighed again, something I found he did a lot. “Let me start from the beginning.”
“O-o-okay,” I said slowly, twirling a strand of hair around my finger. “My name is Mr. Oldway,” he began. “I was born many years ago, in a world with colors.
“You may want to know what colors are, but you can’t quite explain them. You know what an apple is, right?” He waited until I nodded before continuing. “If an apple had color, it would still look like an apple, but it would be different. It would still have its shape, it would just be…” “Different?” I cut in, amused.
“Well, yes,” he bumbled around for a moment, searching for the right words. “But the same.”
“How can something be different and the same?” He sighed, tossing up his hands. “Just read the book.”
I slowly cracked the book open and started reading.
“Red. Red shows love, joy, energy, vibrancy and more.
“Orange. Orange shows warmth, energy, youthfulness, optimism, and more.” I continued on to read the rest of the book, reading about colors like blue, green, black, and brown. Each time, I paused to look at the pictures. Inanimate objects that had no real reason to be there. Like grapes for the color purple. Or flamingoes for the color pink. I stared at them, trying to puzzle them out, but there was no pattern whatsoever.
“It doesn’t make sense to you, does it?” Mr. Oldway sighed.
“No-o-o,” I said slowly, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. He bit his lip anxiously, his eyes darting around as if he was searching for something. “I don’t know how to explain colors. They just are.”
“Well, that doesn’t really help me.” I scowled. “I’m leaving. You can’t even tell me what colors are. There is no way that I am going to find out why you don’t have colors.” Not even waiting for his response, I stalked out of the room, willing myself not to lose my courage and run back to the books. When I reached the doorstep, I heard the door close behind me. Trying not to turn back, I marched to the road, my eyes blurring with tears as they felt the cold on my face.
Before long, I had arrived at my apartment. I slowly unlaced my boots, locked the door, and collapsed on the bed, not even caring enough to change into my pajamas. It was only then that I realized I still clutched the book about colors in my hand,
I awoke with a start as the light hit my face. I groggily rubbed my eyes as I checked the time. It was 6:50 am, much too early for me to be up. I glanced upward, scanning the room before I realized I had forgotten to pull the curtains closed. Sighing, I realized that there was no way that I could fall back asleep, so I forced myself out of bed.
The first thing I did was take a shower. It felt glorious, washing away the layers of dirt and grime that had built up the day before. After that, it was an average morning for me. I got breakfast, changed into my work clothes, and started off to work. As I opened the door, I was shocked. I found a small box that seemed to be bursting at the seams. I took it inside, all thoughts of work long gone. It was shockingly heavy for its size, requiring me to put in a lot of effort to pick it up. Pulling a pair of scissors out, I cut it open, bracing myself for the worst-I was to be called for another cleansing. Tearing it open, I found books. Several books, each painstakingly stacked inside of the box, each wrapped in fabric with such care that even if I threw them across the room, they would remain unharmed. In all, there were nine books, each with the word color in the name. I eyed them warily, pulling them each out and placing them on a mountain of pillows, taking the utmost care to preserve them and the words they contained.
At the bottom of the box, I found a letter. My name was hastily scrawled at the top, barely legible. Slowly, I pulled it open, not trying to rip it. As I saw the name written at the bottom of the letter, I rolled my eyes. Mr. Oldway would just not give up! I easily tossed the letter to the side, not noticing when it fell onto my bed. Instead, I opened the books and began to read. It was rare that I found stories that I loved so much, but these I did. It was not until I had finished the last book, A Colorful World, that I realized what I had done. I had spent almost the entire day reading. Glancing out my west facing window, I saw the sun peeking over the mountains that loomed in the distance. My breath caught. I had missed my work! Letting out a panicked shriek, I dashed out the door, grabbing my bag on the way. As I came to the construction site, I pounded on the door.
“Wait,” I cried. “I’m here! Let me in!”
“Stop, Miss Peters. You did not show up for work, so your employment has been terminated.” I whirled around, coming face to face with my now former boss, Mr. Richard. He stared at me, his face set in a permanent scowl. “But-” I said. “But nothing, Miss Peters. You were not here, so you will not be here in the future. Any future resistance will only harm you. I suggest you leave these premises,” he added, causing my protest to die in my throat. Ducking my head, I slowly began the journey back to my apartment. What am I going to do? The unasked question hung heavily in my mind. Slowly opening the door to my apartment, I collapsed once again on the bed, feeling numb. As I lowered my head onto the pillow, I heard a soft crinkle. I lifted my head at once and stared at the note. My tired mind barely processed what it was doing there, and thus convinced my hands to reach over and tear it up. As I began to do so, I caught a glimpse of a few of the words. “Money”, “Riches”, and “Bribes”. I quickly stopped tearing it and placed the torn pieces back in place. When they were all in place, I began reading.
Dear Riley,
I understand how angry you are. I would be angry too. I have no words that can describe what colors are, and how they work. If you could just see them, you would understand.
No matter what I can or cannot say, perhaps these books can say it. They each paint a beautiful picture of what color is. Please. Read them.
Now, concerning the quest, I realize it may not be very tempting. However, if you go, I can promise money and riches beyond your wildest dreams. In short, I am willing to bribe you to do what I say. Please, consider my offer. I will await it eagerly.
-Mr. Oldway
I let out a squeal. Money? Riches? If I went on this wild goose chase, I could make up for missing work! I would never have to work again. I leapt to my feet, quickly pulling on my thickest jacket as I did so. I could feel the adrenaline racing within me as I dashed out the door, down the street, and up to Mr. Oldway’s house. Once again, I pounded on the door, waiting eagerly for Mr. Oldway to open it. When nothing happened for what felt like forever, I tried the doorknob, and found that it was unlocked. Stepping inside, I surveyed my surroundings. There appeared to be no one around. So, I slowly walked upstairs. The stairs were soft, padded with a kind of carpet thing I hadn’t noticed the day before. As I reached for the doorknob to the door that had opened to the room of books, I heard people talking. I pressed against the wall, realizing that I recognized the first voice. It was Mr. Oldway! I didn’t recognize the second voice. It was light and feminine.
“She’ll come back, I’m telling you!” Mr. Oldway said. The girl scoffed. “Yeah, right. You gave up your secret, and the government is going to come after you for sharing it!”
“No. She’ll come,” Mr. Oldway insisted. “Whatever you think.” The girl scoffed again, then walked towards the door, right towards me. I pressed against the wall, searching for a hiding place, but there were none in the desolate hall. The door creaked open, and the girl walked out. Her eyes were downcast, but when she looked up, she started. “Well,” she said slowly. “It looks like I was wrong.” She grabbed my arm and dragged me into the room. Mr. Oldway looked delighted to see me, but not surprised.
“I take it you read my letter?” I nodded. “Look, the only reason I’m here is because you made me lose my job today.” The girl frowned. “How’d he do that?”
“He left a box on my doorstep and distracted me long enough that I was late to work. My boss hates me, and has been looking for a reason to fire me for months. This just gave him the opportunity.”
“Well-” the girl began. “Well, nothing,” Mr. Oldway cut in. “We’re glad you’re here Riley. Let me tell you what we are going to do. First, we have to get you out of this town.”
“Wait,” I said. “Out of the town? Why would that be a problem? We can go out any time we want.”
“That’s what the government wants you to think,” said Mr. Oldway. “Really, we are all trapped in here. There is only one way to the colorful world. It is in the middle of the government building. I have a plan, but you don’t need to worry about that. After you get out, you have to tell the world what they are doing to us. It can’t be legal. Third… Actually, there is no third step. That’s it.”
“Okay. I’m in,” I agreed quickly. “Really?” Mr. Oldway looked mildly surprised, but then it came to him. “Ah, the money.” I nodded. “So, let’s do this!”
“Woah, slow down!” The girl called. She had been hiding in the corner, forgotten. “You know nothing about the outside world, and your clothes are atrocious!”
“My clothes?” I looked down at my plain overcoat and shirt, along with boots and pants. “What’s wrong with them?”
“Look, since we don’t know what colors they are, we have to assume that they are completely hideous. So, we need to get you a new outfit.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “But who are you?” The girl grinned widely. “I’m Kira. I’ll be the one getting you to the outside world, and telling you all about it. Now, let's get you a new outfit.”
Too dumbfounded to protest, I let her pull me off to the side of the room. At her request, I pulled off my overcoat.
“Hmmm,” Kira said. “You’re probably smaller than anything we have.”
“What do you have?” I asked. She pulled out a large bin of clothes, each item pinned to a color name.
“AHA!” Kira squealed. She pulled out a short-sleeved shirt, with a paper pinned to it that read ‘blue’. “Try this on.” Kira ordered. Blushing, I stepped into the closet she showed me, and pulled it on. “Oh, it’s perfect,” Kira said when I stepped out. “Now, here are some pants.” She handed me a pair of pants. They felt grainy and thick. As I stepped out, she sighed. “These jeans are perfect for you. Now, put on this hoodie. It’ll go over your shirt.” I pulled it over. It was apparently the color green. It was warm, and snug. “Hmmm, it’s a little tight, but it will work.” Kira examined my feet. “We don’t have any shoes your size, so you’ll have to wear your boots. Hopefully they won’t be too suspicious.”
“Well then, if she’s all set, let’s go!” Mr. Oldway proclaimed.
“Wait, now?” I cried.
“Yes, now. The government will see that you have been to my house. They will suspect something is up, and have you cleansed. So, we need to strike while the iron is hot.”
“What?” I said, dazed. Quickly, they dragged me out of the house, down the street, and outside the government building.
“Okay,” Kira instructed. “I can’t come with you, so here is what you need to know about the outside world.” She handed me a bag. “Here is some money. That is what they use to buy things, not credits. Don’t trust anyone, except the news reporters. Call them using a phone. You can borrow one from a nice stranger. Uh, that’s about it, so go!”
Kira shoved me towards the building. “Wait!” I cried. “I’m not ready! How do you use money? What are phones? What is going on?” I let out a choked sob, tears running down my cheeks. Mr. Oldway eyed me sympathetically. Kira just frowned. “Go on,” she proclaimed. “We don’t have all day!”
“I can’t!” Mr. Oldway patted my arm, then handed me a small bag. It was light and soft, filled with clothes. “What are these?” I asked, sniffling. He shot me a sad look. “It’s your uniform. You didn’t think they would just let you walk out of here, did you?”
“Well, no, but-”
“Alright, go put it on. Just put it over your clothes, you should be fine.”
“How’d you even get these?” I asked. His eyes flashed dangerously. “You don’t want to know. Now, go!” The intensity in his voice shocked me into action. I quickly pulled the scratchy jumpsuit over my outside-world clothes, making sure to tuck the hood from the hoodie inside it. Pulling the cap over my tangled hair, I walked in front of Kira and Mr. Oldway. I twirled for them, showing it off. They nodded as I spun, making sure everything was in place. When they were sure it was, they shoved me towards the building and hid, leaving me on my own.
As I walked through the doors, I tried to assume the air of an all-important ego-maniacal government official. I didn’t know how I looked, but no one gave me a second glance as I walked past them. The only person that talked to me was the secretary, who asked me why I was going out. “To take a break,” came my monotone reply. I tried to appear nonchalant, hoping she would let me through. She did, of course, taking one look at me and opening the door. “Be back before your shift starts again,” she advised. I nodded, and strode out the door. I was free.
As I walked out, I gasped. Nothing had changed. “Liars!” I cried.
“What was that?” the secretary called.
“Nothing,” I replied. “Just clearing my throat.”
“R-i-i-ight,” she replied calmly, giving me a large wink that told me she didn’t believe me. Shaking my head, I strode farther out, making sure to close the door behind me. I found a well worn dirt road off to the side, leading into some woods. I felt a spike of fear as I stared at them, then strode forward. It didn’t matter if colors weren’t real. I would enjoy myself while I was here, then turn Kira and Mr. Oldway into the High Senator when I got back. Along the path, the trees towered over me, creating shadows that seemed to surround me entirely, trapping me in place.
It was none too soon when I got out of the forest and found a gravel road. Cars whizzed past me on it, going so fast it caused my hair to whip wildly around me.
I had ditched the jumpsuit in the forest, not wanting to look like the government officials if I was seen. I stood there on the side of the road for just a moment before a car pulled over. Rolling their window down, a middle-aged woman peered out at me. “Hi, honey! What are you doing here? Do you need a ride?” She spoke too quickly for me to understand most of it, but I heard the last question. “Yes, “ I replied, nodding. “I do need a ride. Could you give me one?”
“Sure, honey, where to?”
“A news station,” I said, not quite sure why I was still going along with the plan even though they had lied to me.
It was then that it happened. The grass changed. I couldn’t quite describe it, but it was different. Then, it went back to normal. Blinking, I strode towards the woman’s car. She opened the door for me and I hopped in. As we raced along the road, I stared out the window, willing the grass to change again. It didn’t, but that didn’t stop me from longing that it would.
Tears slowly rolled down my cheeks as I realized what had happened. They really had lied. I was just seeing things when I thought the grass had changed.
Slowly blinking away the tears, I looked out the window again. Then, I gasped, and shrieked at the same time. It sounded a bit like a cat does when it is given a bath. I could tell that the woman was shocked, because the car swerved when I did. I could see colors. They were beautiful. I didn’t understand why I could see them now, but I could, and I didn’t care. They were wonderful.
“Take me to the news station!” I practically screamed. “Fast!” The woman didn’t understand. She shot me a strange look, but pressed on the gas. We surged forward even faster. It wasn’t long before we screeched to a stop in front of an old, worn down shack, the billboard proudly proclaiming, “Neely’s News Station. Where all the news that fits is shown.”
“Thanks!” I cried, leaping out of the car. Before she left, I pulled out one of the paper money things Kira had told me about and handed it to her. It had a 50 written in the corners, and her eyes widened when she saw it. Shaking her head, she tried to hand it back to me. “I can’t take this.” I grinned. “Please take it. You’ve helped me so much.” I turned and walked into the building, not turning back. I heard her truck start up and rumble off, and my grin widened. “Hello?” I called. “I have a story for you! It’s about a science experiment on innocent people. Hello?”
I looked around, my eyes darting around. I caught a glimpse of movement. As I started to turn, I felt a cloth clamp over my mouth, and I collapsed, my world going black.
My eyes opened slightly, letting light into my world. My head ached, and I felt like I couldn’t move. I heard someone talking on the phone.
“Hi… Yeah, it’s Neely… Yeah, I drugged her… Of course, she’s out cold… Yeah, I had to! She got out! I don’t know how!... Yeah, I’ll take care of her, after my lunch… Yeah, okay, bye.” Neely walked out of the room, and I jolted upright. Take care of her? I leapt to my feet. I had to get out of here. I looked around, searching for a way out. I spotted a window, a bit too high for me to reach. I spotted a desk off to the side, papers piled on top of it. I grabbed the papers, shoving them in my pockets, and shoved the desk under the window. I leapt on top of it, then out the window. I found myself just outside of Neely's news station. I looked around, not sure where to go. Just then, I heard a friendly call. “Do you need a ride again, stranger?” It was the same woman from before. “Thank you!” I cried, leaping into her car.
“Hey, you!” I heard Mr. Neely shouted, chasing after us as we sped away. Before long, we left him in the dust.
“Thank you.” I whispered. “Don’t mention it.” She pulled over on the road, her eyes glistening. “Here’s where you get out. Head back to the colorless world. Go.”
“How?...” I asked. She just shook her head. “Get out.” I dashed out of the car, shooting a longing glance at her, down the dirt path and into the government building.
“Hey!” the secretary cried, but I raced past. I didn’t stop running until I reached Mr. Oldway’s house. “Here.” I handed him the papers, and everything changed.
We have colors now, like everyone. They took down the walls. They found out they snuck it into our food, the potion. The one to take the colors away. It’s just like it used to be, but I’m smarter now, less trusting. But maybe we could start again.
Sooooo... After three kinda decently depressing poems, I actually have a happy one! So, the background behind this is: I cut my hair. Yes, I know this doesn't sound super important, but all of a sudden I was getting compliments from people left and right, even people that I didn't even know knew me. Thus, this poem. I hope you enjoy!
I never thought
They knew my name
I never thought
They knew I was there
I never thought
They saw me
I never thought
They cared
I never thought
They listened when I spoke
I never thought
They understood why I am the way I am
I never thought
They thought I was good enough
I never thought
They could be so nice
I never thought
I could be so wrong, yet feel so right
*Note* Soooo it turns out poetry is a really good outlet. Wrote this last night. Hope you enjoy! *End Note*
Expectations
A grip like a vise
Slowly crushing you
They start-
A pebble
A rock
A boulder
An avalanche
Breaking you down
Here a little there a little
Bit by bit
Until you are broken
You want so badly to be enough
But it always feels like you’re never enough
And you spend so long trying so hard
You don’t realize
The one holding you back the most
*WARNING* I have many warnings to give to you.
1. THIS STORY IS LITERALLY THE FIRST STORY I EVER WROTE, SO IT IS REALLY BAD. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. The reason I am including these older stories is partly for myself, so I can see how I have improved, and partly so you guys can laugh at the absurdity of my past writing.
2. This is a Wings of Fire fanfiction, so if you have not read those books, they will make no sense. Just saying.
Actually, I guess I only have two warnings to give you. Enjoy!
*CLOSE WARNING*
“She’s hatching tonight!” The dragons in the castle whispered excitedly. The rainwing-nightwing princess was joining the world. The shell started to wobble. King Firestrike was the first to notice. He had wanted to stay with his wife, Queen Rose, who was sick. But she insisted that he had to protect their child. So, the nervous king protected it so fiercely, that no one wanted to even see the egg.
Suddenly, the egg began to rock again. All of a sudden, the egg swayed. The winds picked the egg up, and began to carry it away. It was a mad dash to grab the egg. But no one could. The egg bobbed above their outstretched claws. The wind blasted them so fiercely, that if they even tried to fly, they would be blasted so far away, they would never find their way back. King Firestrike could only watch in horror as the egg floated in the air. He cried out when he realized the truth. His daughter was being born in a hurricane. He feebly tried again to grab the egg, but again, it swayed out of reach. He could only watch, and hope that the hurricane was kind enough to save his daughter. Suddenly, the shell split open in a burst of light, and the tiny princess joined the world.
Four years later…
“I don’t have to go, do I father?” Firefly asked.
“Of course you have to go. You are queen of course! I am only taking care of the tribe until you are ready to take the throne! This will be a good thing!” Firestrike replied. Want to bet? Firefly thought bitterly.
“Now, I know that you have a few… strange powers, but don’t let them know. If they don’t know, they can’t use it,” Firestrike explained. She poured her mind into his thoughts.
“That’s not what you think! You’re just worried about your precious reputation! How could you father? I know I have powers, so what?” She snarled in his mind. He flinched, not knowing what to say. Even if he had known what to say, Firefly didn’t give him a chance to answer. She stalked away, leaving him to his own thoughts and snarled to herself. Three moons! Why does he only worry about himself? I have nine or ten powers and he is worried about his reputation! She gripped the training rail, where dragons learned how to read minds. It helped them anchor onto the calmest mind if they held onto something in reality. She flicked her tail, furious. Why did she have to go to Sapphire Dune Academy? It was for ‘special’ dragons, her father had told her. She didn’t need a stupid school to help her control her ‘curse’, as her father called it. She decided to complain to her ONLY friend, Lemur.
“My dad is making me go to that horrid school! I can’t believe he is going through with it! I know I have nine or ten powers, but I don’t need that place!” Firefly cried.
“I know, but he’s just worried about you. You need to control your powers. What were they again? I remember ice, fire, mind reading, prophecy, water, ground, air, time, and invisibility, but that last one isn't really a power, since all rainwings can do that,” Lemur said excitedly.
“That’s all of them. But I’m still not going, even if my BEST FRIEND won’t agree with me,” Firefly said, her voice dripping with venom. She stalked away, not wanting to talk any longer with Lemur. She wasn’t really mad at her, but she didn’t want anyone to find out about her secret power. No one could know. She would apologize to Lemur later, but right now she was going to practice. She had come up with a plan. If she showed a lot of control over her powers, her father might let her stay home. She flew out to the forest, in a quiet clearing where no one would find. She decided to start practicing her invisibility. She slowly shifted her scales to match her background. She decided that should practice it in a more ‘stressful’ situation. She stalked along the ground, wriggling through a tight space into the castle. She was going to spy on her father’s secret meeting. She pressed to a wall, making sure that no one could see her, closed her eyes, and listened.
“We must get rid of her,” A raspy voice cried out. Firefly recognized that voice. It was her father’s advisor, FastKill. Her tail twitched. Who are they trying to ‘get rid of’? She thought.
“Yes, she must die. She is a threat to the throne,” another voice said. She knew this voice, but she didn’t know who it exactly was. She wanted to open her eyes and see who it was, but if she did they would see her. Her thoughts were interrupted by another voice.
“Are you sure?” It was her father. “She hasn’t learned what she can do yet. And…” His voice lingered on the word. “She reminds me so much of her.” Firefly listened as close as she could.
“Yes, if she does not die, you will lose the throne, and be known as a low-born WORM!” The mysterious voice said again.
“ B-b-b-but… Fine, do what you must. Just don’t make me do it. And whatever you do, make sure Firefly is dead by morning,” Her father whispered. Firefly gasped, unable to keep silent. A deep blue spread across her scales, revealing her to the dragons. She spread her wings out, flying out of reach, emotions rolling through her, and flashing over her scales, making them turn so many different colors. FastKill flung a dagger at her, and it flew through the air, seemingly at supersonic speed. Terrified, she instinctively pulled out an energy from her core thrusting it out, and everything seemed to slow down. She tried to move out of the way of the dagger, and found that she moved much faster than it. She easily dodged it, and the other daggers that FastKill flung at her. She flew out the window, and time went back to normal. She cried out saying,
“Why would you do this! You were never nice to me, but at least you weren’t a murderer! I’ll come back and kill you!”
“No, you won’t,” He said in a robotic voice. Firefly looked into his eyes, and found that they looked dull, and unlike her father’s eyes. Her eyes widened when she realized what had happened. Her father was being controlled. Her gaze drifted to the mysterious stranger. They had flung back their hood, and Firefly gasped, hurt.
“Lemur?” She whimpered. “W-w-w-why would you do this? You were my best friend.”
“Of course. I had to get close to lower your guard. That way, you wouldn’t suspect when I would kill you.” Lemur’s voice sounded dark, and evil.
“How did I not see this? I should have seen a prophecy or something!” Firefly blurted out. Lemur grinned, but in a way that sent chills down her spine.
“That was the other reason I had to get close. I can block magic. That is how I am controlling your father. It is also the way I am going to control you!” Lemur yelled, thrusting a talon out. Suddenly, Firefly felt trapped. She couldn’t move, or use magic. She struggled, fighting to get free. She was so terrified that she began to store energy. The energy hummed and buzzed inside her, ready to push out. She flung back her wings, escaped the magic, and let the energy free. The energy went out slowly, starting out as a flicker of light, and then swelled to a blast of light that could blind anyone. In the confusion, Firefly escaped, promising that one day, when she was strong, she would come back and defeat Lemur.
Two years later…
Firefly trained every day, never stopping. Slowly her powers grew stronger, and she was soon able to use them in any way that she wanted. But, eventually, she decided that she would stay in the small village that she had found. She didn’t want to face Lemur again. Her powers were… terrifying. Besides, she was a mother now. The village that she had found was full of dragons that no one had ever seen before. CloudWings. They looked like they were made of well… clouds. She had fallen in love with a CloudWing named Hurricane. He was the one who had raised the hurricane the day she was born. They had two tiny children, and one egg, that still hadn’t hatched yet. Their oldest child was a one-year-old girl named Clevercloud. Their next was a 5 month-old boy named Twister. They had rainbow wings, and RainWing scales. They had black scales on their talons. Neither of them had been born under the moons, so neither of them had NightWing powers. Firefly loved them anyway. They were funny and adorable. Today, she was going to test them for powers. She gathered them close, so that she could test them.
“Now hold still. I am going to pull some energy from your core. This will trigger any powers that you have,” Firefly said. She stretched her wings, closed her eyes, and pushed her mind into Clevercloud’s thoughts. She dug through her thoughts, until she found her core. She harnessed the energy there, and pulled it into herself. She drew her mind out of Clevercould’s, and gave her the energy. Clevercloud shivered.
“Am I supposed to feel both cold and hot at the same time?” She whimpered.
“No, and Yes! It means that you have two powers! Fire, and ice!” Firefly said excitedly.
“This is a good thing?” Clevercloud hissed, pain creeping across her back.
“Yes! The pain will subside in a moment. Don’t worry about it. I’m right here.” Firefly soothed. She drew her tail across Clevercloud’s spine. Clevercloud shivered one more time, then settled down.
“Now go rest. Triggering abilities is stressful, so you will need to take a break. Your father is bringing your bed so you can watch Twister’s triggering, if you want to.” Firefly told her. Clevercloud bobbed her head, and laid down in the bed Hurricane had brought. Firefly started towards Twister, but he backed away.
“Are you going to do the same thing you did to Clevercloud to me?” He whimpered. Firefly slowly nodded.
“Don’t worry, it won’t hurt. You’ll be fine,” Firefly soothed. Twister looked as if he was being betrayed.
“Really, it won’t hurt?” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “I don’t want you to trigger my ability if it’s like Clevercloud’s.”
Firefly snarled, “You will trigger this ability! You need to be able to protect yourself!” In a burst of fear and anger, Firefly told her children her story. Their eyes widened as they heard what had happened. Twister ducked his head in shame.
“Alright, do it!” He whispered. Firefly poured her mind into his thoughts, digging around until she found his core. Firefly pulled her mind out with the energy tucked inside her. She slowly thrust the energy into Twister. He cocked his head.
“ It feels like I’m floating in a cloud!” He exclaimed. He stretched out his wings, bathing in the sunlight.
“This means that you can control the wind, just like your father!” Firefly shouted. You can be safe now, she thought. Hurricane pressed close to her, and their tails twined together. Firefly started to walk towards their home, when they heard a sharp cry coming from the nursery. She paled, and her scales turned to a dark purple color. She started to run, but then realized that she could go faster. She flung out energy, and slowed down time. She ran as fast as she could, zooming past everyone in her way. She made it to the nursery, and set time right again. She looked in, and saw that her egg was hatching! Her scales settled down back to their normal sunset colors. She walked in, and found out that the employee didn’t know what to do, so they yelled. Firefly looked at the last egg, and promised herself that she would protect everyone she cared about. The egg started to crack, and a tiny gray, poofy arm poked through. The rest of the egg splintered, and the tiny dragon slid out. She looked just like her siblings, but instead of being white, she was a strange gray color. Firefly curled her tail around the young dragonet, and carried her home. When they got home, she looked closely at the small dragonet. She decided to take her to the doctor to make sure that she was healthy. Right then, Hurricane came into the house.
“Is she okay? I heard the scream and saw you run, but I didn’t know what had happened! Please tell me,” Hurricane hurriedly said. As Firefly told him what happened, the dragonet slowly spread her wings, revealing her chest and talons. Firefly glanced at her and began to scream. The dragonet’s talons were twisted, and black. Firefly collapsed to the ground and lay there for so long, Hurricane thought she was dead. Slowly, she got up. She scooped up the tiny dragon, and carried her out the door.
“I am taking her to the doctor!” Firefly sobbed, “ Maybe they can fix her! I don’t know what happened! Before I started talking to you, she was fine!”
“Honey.” Hurricane started to say.
“What?” Firefly snarled. He mumbled something indistinguishable, and jabbed his talons toward something behind her. Firefly turned around and saw why he was so terrified. It was Lemur. Firefly screamed, as once again she was wrapped in the unforgiving hand of magic. She fought even harder than she had two years ago. But she couldn’t get free. She began to store energy again, but Lemur called out,
“No, no, no! No doing that! That is the only thing that can stop my magic! So to stop you from doing that…” Lemur trailed off. Her gaze fixated on something behind Firefly. Firefly paled. The magic released her. She crumpled to the ground, exhausted. She suddenly got up. She lunged, trying to get in front of the magic. But it was too late. The magic scooped up her newborn daughter, squeezing her tightly.
“It is easier to bargain, if you have something to bargain with.” Lemur chuckled. “I have your child, and you have your power. Give up your power and I will give up your child. If you even start to think about sacrificing your child, then remember this. She hasn't even been named! Do you think that she really needs to die? And you better think fast, because I injected a poison into her. She will be dead within the hour.” Firefly’s thoughts were going at supersonic speed. How can I save her and my powers? I can’t lose her, but I can’t lose my power! What should I do? Her tail twitched. She began to feel a headache coming on. Three moons! It’s a vision! The headache flared, and the world faded to black. She saw red. Then she saw the streets coated in blood. Dragons dying. All while she sat useless, her powers gone. She saw Lemur cackling, sitting on a throne of skulls. As she came back to reality, she realized what she had to do. I named our child. She whispered in Hurricane’s head. Her name is Cumulus. I will have to sacrifice her. I’m so sorry. Goodbye, my love. Closing her eyes, she began to store energy. After she had stored as much energy as she could, she opened her eyes.
“This is where you meet your end, Lemur!” She snarled. She narrowed her eyes, slowly pulsing energy. “I’m so sorry, Cumulus. I wish that you could’ve seen the world like I have.” She flung the energy out, blinding Lemur. She collapsed to the ground. She couldn’t see Cumulus anywhere. She had poured out all of her energy into this. She would die in a few minutes. She decided that she would make the best of the rest of her life. She struggled to get up. She wobbled on her legs. She slowly crept forward, making sure to keep quiet. She lunged forward, ready to finish Lemur. Lemur suddenly flipped around and slashed Firefly’s throat. Firefly gasped, pain rushing through her. She suddenly lunged forward, and snapped Lemur’s neck. She fell to the ground. Warm blood pooled around her. She slowly crawled forward. She bumped into something. It was Cumulus. She slowly stretched out her wings. Wrapping them around Cumulus, she pulsed. She sent all of her magic into her young child. She also sent her last burst of healing magic, leaving her useless, and weak.
“Fly… Into.. the clouds… You will be safe.” She whispered. She lowered her head to the ground. The last thing she saw before the world faded to black, was Cumulus, healthy, her talons fixed, flying into the sky.
The End
I was watching cartoons when the first warning came.
I know, I know. It’s silly, a 15 year old girl, curled up on the couch, watching Scooby Doo. I just needed to feel safe, and for me, the safest I can feel is watching something so silly, real life doesn’t feel so scary any more.
My parents were off on one of their fancy vacations. This one was to Hawaii. I didn’t care. Every time I went with them, I just sat in a so-called ‘luxury’ hotel. Technically, my parents were there on strictly business. Somehow, they always ended up with amazing stories and pictures to share though. Eventually, I gave up on going with them. This time was the first day that they actually trusted me to stay home alone. I was so excited. They told me that it was just a trial run. They would only be gone for a day or two. If all went well, I might be able to stay home alone again. All went well for the first day. It was the second day that everything went wrong.
I was just reaching the point in my episode where they were unmasking the ghost, this time the Phantom Shadow, when my screen went dark. It stayed that way for a second, then flicked to a storm warning. There was a pretty, middle aged newscaster. She had perfectly straight teeth that gleamed when she smiled, and lucious blonde hair. I had seen her before, but this time it felt different. She smiled a perfect smile, but the smile never reached her eyes. She looked… worried.
“This is a storm warning.” What? No way! I thought, rolling my eyes. The newscaster continued, her voice smooth, and gentle. “This message is for the city San Francisco. If you currently reside in San Francisco, you may want to get prepared for a long night. There is evidence of earthquakes in the ocean near you.”
I frowned. I hadn’t felt any earthquakes.
“It must be a prank.” I mutter, trying to change it back to Scooby Doo. It didn’t work. Whatever this was, I was stuck with it until the so-called ‘threat’ passed. I stood up, stretched my legs, and walked upstairs to grab a snack. After a moment of indecision, I pulled a couple packs of crackers out of the cupboard. I was walking back downstairs to try and change the channel again when the phone rang. I set the crackers on the table, and picked it up.
“Hello?”
“Oh, Delilah, thank goodness you’re okay!” It was my mom. Her voice sounded panicked.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I asked, a bit of worry creeping into my voice.
“Weren’t you watching the storm warning?” My eyes widen, and I race downstairs to the TV. The newscaster looked terrified as she said, “San Francisco, evacuate now. The tsunami is coming straight at you.”
Panic pierced me, sharp and unforgiving. I gasped for air, but the panic surrounded me, suffocating me.
“Oh n-no,” I gasped, clutching the phone with a white-knuckled grip.
“Delilah,” My dad said in a dangerously low voice. “Are you still at the house?”
“Yes,” I wailed.
“Delilah, I need you to listen to me,” My dad said, his voice catching as he spoke. “Upstairs, in the kitchen, there is a thick black bag below the sink. I need you to grab that, okay? That has everything you need. Then I need you to get out of there. Take a bike, a car, whatever. Just get out of there.”
“Okay.” Once I agreed, he whispered, “I love you Del. Just get somewhere safe.” Then he hung up, leaving me to face the tsunami on my own.
“Okay. Step one,” I muttered to myself. “Get the thick black bag from under the sink.” I dashed upstairs, and opened the cupboard right below our main sink. The black bag was there, hidden carefully in the shadows. I pulled it out, and opened it up. Inside, there was money, clothes, food, and more. Everything I needed to survive was in there.
“Step two. Get out of here.” I would have driven the car, if I had known how to drive it. Unfortunately, I had failed my drivers test two times in a row. I raced out to the garage, clipped on a helmet, and started riding my bike away from the beach. As I glided up the sidewalk, I realized it was a good thing I didn’t know how to drive. There were cars everywhere, with traffic clogging up the road. I easily passed most of the cars. They honked angrily at me, but I didn’t care. I just kept thinking, Get out of here.
A couple of families took one look at me, and followed suit. They realized it was faster on foot than by car. It didn’t matter to me. I just kept riding. It wasn’t too long before I had made it a couple miles inland, where people had made a barricade of sandbags. I didn’t know if it would help, but who was I to judge? I glided past, and kept pedaling. I was biking up a steep hill, when I heard a soft whimper. I glanced back, and saw a medium sized black dog.
“You better get going,” I called as I continued to pedal up the hill. Just when I made it up the hill, I heard the whimper again. This time I turned around completely, and stared at the dog limping up the hill. I noticed it had curled one of its paws to its chest, and was struggling to walk. I bit my lip. I could see the wave rising in the distance, threatening to crash down at any second. Then I looked back at the dog, who whimpered again, and tried to limp farther. My heart broke, and at that moment I decided.
I spun around in the road, and let gravity pull me down the hill. Down, down, down I went, picking up speed as I went. When I reached the bottom, I heard a thunderous crash. I kicked the bike away, scooped up the dog, and started to tear up the hill. I hadn’t made it far before the water crashed over me.
I spun around wildly, clinging to the dog. The water pushed me around, with no rhyme or reason to it all. After what seemed like forever, my head popped above the water, and I sucked in a breath of sweet, delicious air.
“Air is so good!” I wheezed, lifting the dog as high out of the water as possible. He yapped happily, and I sucked in one last breath before I was sucked below the water again. It happened over and over. I get sucked down, holding my breath for as long as possible, until I break the surface, get one breath in, and the whole thing starts over again.
I was growing tired. I could barely lift the dog out of the water. Eventually, it reached the point where I couldn't lift the dog at all. I was at the mercy of the water. I could feel the dog growing weak, and in a last-ditch effort to save him, I hurled him as far away from me as possible, towards what looked like the floating roof of a house. He landed with a sickening thump, but he landed on the roof, out of the water, where he could breathe. That was more than I can say for myself. I never knew when my next breath would be. I just waited. I waited, and hoped for the best.
I curled my hands over my head, hoping that it would stop anything from hitting it. This, however, left me open for a blow in another spot.
My back slammed into something, pushing air out of my lungs. NO! I thought, trying to squirm free. My air was running out fast, and trying to get out didn’t make it any better. I paused, holding still for a second, then tried to swim upward again.
Yes! I thought as I surged upward. However, my happiness was short-lived. After only a moment the water slammed me backwards, pinning me again. NO! I swiped feebly, trying to break free, but to no avail. I snapped my eyes open, and saw that I was pinned against the wall of a house.
I hadn’t had my eyes open for long before red rimmed my vision, creeping farther, and farther, until my world went black.
The light was warm. Gentle, even. It wrapped around me, pulling me away from the tsunami. But something bit back, pulling harder than the light, pulling me upwards, towards life.
The black faded away as my head broke the surface, and I filled my lungs with air.
Every breath hurt, like there was a giant dumbbell sitting on my chest, but the air was worth it. Life was worth it.
Suddenly, I remembered what happened.
“Who?” I sputtered. I lifted my head up to find the dog, laying next to me, on what looked like the roof of a car.
“How?” I asked. But he just cocked his head, panting wearily. “How did you even get me on here? I don’t remember you pulling me on here…” I stared at him, half hoping that he would magically tell me everything. He didn’t of course, but he looked at me so calmly, that I knew he understood everything.
“Well,” I said, grabbing him, and pulling him close. “I saved your life, and you saved mine. We’re even.” He barked once, and I mistook it for excitement. But then he barked again, and I remembered that we are not out of danger yet. The water is pulling back, receding. For one joyous moment I was thrilled. The tsunami is over! But then I remembered where we were. The water was receding, and pulling us back with it. If we didn’t move fast, we would be sucked out to the ocean with the rest of the rubble.
“No, no, no,” I muttered, rallying my courage. “We gotta get out of here.” I said to the dog. He eyed me warily, then dipped his head. I scooped him up, and scanned for anywhere we could jump. But I didn’t see anywhere. All I could see was rubble. “Where do I go?” I spun around faster and faster, until I dropped dizzily to the ground.
“I don’t, I don’t,” I gasped, my breathing ragged. The panic from before came back, and this time it was stronger. It struck hard, making every breath a struggle, a fight for survival. I collapsed backwards, hitting the car with a dull thud. I breathed in quickly, trying to suck in air before the panic could strike again. Then the dog stared at me, his big brown eyes gentle, and understanding. He laid his head on my stomach, and there we lay, for eight precious seconds, before the panic had surrendered, ending the miniature war inside of me.
“Let’s go,” I said, my voice shaking. I scooped him up again, and this time I surveyed my surroundings calmly.
“There.” I nodded my head towards a large house, towering in the distance. “Get ready.” I braced myself, getting ready to jump the second we got close enough. My muscles tensed as the water rushed us closer, and closer, and then I jumped.
While I was in the air, I swear I could feel something pushing me farther, just enough that my feet landed on the edge of the roof of the house.
“Yes!” I shouted. I dropped the dog to the ground, and we both danced around excitedly. Suddenly, I dropped to my knees and hugged the dog. Because even though we almost died, and everything we knew was in shambles, we were alive, and we are together, and in the end, that was what really matters.
*Note* I had some problems with this story. It kind of changed perspectives halfway through the story, but I went through and changed that. I hope you enjoy it! *End Note*
They should have known better. They should have known not to antagonize me. They should have known I would retaliate. They should have known that they were not strong enough to stand against me. They should have known that any attempt to resist was futile, and that it would only make me even more mad. They should have known that with each crazy antic, my hate would have been stoked.
Yes, they should have known better.
But I should have known better than to destroy the world.
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That moment in the air, with the wind rushing around and the breeze fluttering through my fingers, it almost felt like I was flying. I could imagine I was soaring through the air, defying the law of gravity. In that moment, that wonderfully blissful moment, it was all too easy to forget that I was plummeting to my death.
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The government official certainly liked coming to our village.
Standing on a small step-stool to make himself taller, he begged for us to sign some kind of paper. Most of us ignored him. We had work to do, and it wasn’t gonna get done by listenin’ to some egotistical politician plead for us to trust in him, saying that he would take care of it all. Perhaps if things weren’t as bad as they were, we woulda listened to him.
But trust could only get you so far. It was a nice thought, but trust wasn’t any good when your family was starving.
Trust couldn’t put food on the table.
Trust couldn’t get the work done.
Trust couldn’t save our children when the government came to take them away.
*Note* The last one certainly isn't my strongest one, so just be aware of that. *End Note*
The nightmare always began with darkness. An all encompassing void that swallowed life.
Then, a flickering, unsteady light that cast looming shadows across the ground.
That was when the man was supposed to run. He knew based on the previous nightmares what they wanted from him, at least at the start. Whenever he tried to fight it, she took control, moving him here and there.
So he ran. Better to run and maintain some sense of control than to place himself in her hands.
He tore through the dense woods, shoving aside branches and underbrush that tore at him, creating angry red lines across his skin.
Part of him wanted to stop running, to fight against her, to not give them what they wanted.
He quieted that part of him quickly. She was in control, and she was the only one. He had no choice. That was, at least, the lie he told himself.
He knew what was coming next- what always came next. A root snared his foot and he teetered for a moment before losing his balance and tumbling over the edge of a cliff.
He slammed into walls and edges, not even obtaining a brief respite during the fall. As he hurtled towards the ground, he braced himself. He knew when he was going to hit- the nightmare always brightened a little when he neared the ground, as if taunting him with the inevitable.
The man hit the ground with a dull smack, lights flashing across his vision. He groaned with the pain, which didn’t fade. It never did. Rather, it remained with him. An everconstant, unwanted companion.
“GIVE. IN.” The voice said, resounding around him.
“N-never,” the man wheezed. They were angry, he could tell. They wanted him to give in.
Slowly, his sight cleared, and he forced himself to his feet. The fact that the nightmare hadn’t ended yet was indication enough that something horrible was going to happen. They also hadn’t taken control yet, so he knew it was coming to him.
He spun in a short, awkward circle, favoring his left leg. He could hear his heart pounding as he searched the darkness for what was to come.
As he turned his back to the forest- the one that appeared in the place of the cliff; another proof that she was in control- something leapt at him.
He fought back wildly, squeezing his eyes shut and flailing around pointlessly. The thing, whatever it was, fell still.
He peeked out one eye, then the other. A few scratches had appeared on him, one in particular on his forehead that dripped blood into his eye. He found a pitch-black figure laying on the ground, seemingly dead. Had he won? He couldn’t have, could he?
He moved closer to the figure, curious about who- or what- it was. Just then, an angry cry echoed from the forest. Thousands upon thousands of these black creatures charged at him, surrounding him. A few grabbed his limbs and heaved him up.
The man tried to fight. He was a fighter, wasn’t he? He was… He was… tired. He was so tired. He just wanted the nightmares to end, but if they ended that meant she won, and he couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t. People depended on him.
The figures held him in the middle of a flickering, candle-lit circle.
GIVE. IN. FOOL. The voice said again. The figures surrounding the man fidgeted anxiously. He could see how anxious they were for a fight. He wanted to give in. Oh, how he wanted to rest. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
“N-n-never,” he coughed, his chest constricting with each breath.
So the figures began to pull. There were four of them- one gripping each limb. They pulled and pulled and when pain overwhelmed him and things had begun to tear, they took another approach.
Each figure among the watching audience was given a knife. They then, in turn, came to strike at him.
Hit. The pain was a fog, a fuzzy haze that made it hard to think. But he could still remember why he fought. Why he still tried.
Hit. He wanted it to end. They had barely started and already the pain threatened to overwhelm him.
Hit. He was fighting. He was-
Hit. He was fighting. He-
Hit. He was fighting-
Hit. He was-
Hit. He-
Hit. Hit. Hit. Hit. Hit. The man collapsed under the pain, wilting under it. He just. Wanted. It. To. End.
And it did, for a moment.
GIVE IN! The voice cried once more.
The man wanted to. Oh, he wanted to. He quite nearly did. But as he opened his mouth to speak, his hands jerking out, he brushed a tree, and a voice sounded in his head. It wasn’t his. No, it was the voice from before, when his life hadn’t been a living nightmare. From when he knew what was coming.
A faint memory flickered in his head.
They had been caught.
They knew it the moment they landed. There were enemy soldiers all around. The man, along with his friend, had scrambled up a tree, desperate for something to hide them, to stop the inevitable.
Leaning against the tree they panted, and the man looked at his friend.
“They’re going to find us, aren’t they?” His friend nodded, oddly quiet.
“You okay?” The man asked when his friend didn’t respond.
“They aren’t gonna care about me,” his friend whispered. “I don’t know anything, but you do. I’ve been told of the horrors they’ve been concocting in that lab of theirs.
“I’ve also been told how to survive it. So when you’re there, in that living nightmare… Remember me. Remember this. It’s not real. None of it is. And you are strong enough to withstand it. I just hope for the sake of all of us that you stay that way.”
The man jolted, brought out of his reminiscing. This isn’t real. He whispered those words over and over to himself. . This isn’t real. This blood spilling from me isn’t real. This pain, as real as it seems, isn’t real. And I am strong enough to withstand this pain. He quivered, steeling himself.
“Y-you’ve g-g-g-g… g-g-got t-t-t-t-to d-d-do b-b-b-b-e-e-e-tter th-th-than that-t-t-t.” Speaking was hard. He coughed out blood with each wheezing breath, refusing to give in.
So the people kept stabbing. And he had to ask himself. If all I know anymore is the nightmare, at what point does it become my reality? At what point does it become real?
“W-w-when I l-let it-t-t,” the man gasped, needing to hear it out loud. The figures didn’t like it, and the stabs turned harsher, if that was possible. But the man was fine, now. He could withstand the pain… right?
The figures, growing frustrated with his inaction, stopped stabbing him. Instead, they tied his feet together, as well as his hands, and tied a heavy rock to the rope holding his hands together. Then, heaving him over their shoulders, they began to carry him into the forest. The trees seemed to tower over him, enhancing the panic he felt as he strained to see where they were going.
Before long, the rhythmic sway of their walk made the man drowsy, and he started to close his eyes. He was so tired…
The figures heaved him up over their heads, and the man thrashed. They had reached their destination, it seemed. The man peered out, stretching his neck out as far as it would go. From what he could see, they were at a morbidly still pond that seemed to stretch on for miles.
Oh, no. No, no, nononononono. He could see what they were planning, and he wanted to fight it, but each movement sent a flood of pain through him, stopping him from doing much.
With a mighty heave, the pitch-black figures tossed him into the pond.
The man fought like he had never fought before in the nightmares, each movement sending a wave of nausea through him. His head broke the surface for a moment and he gasped for air, but it wasn’t long before the rock began dragging him down.
His hands clawed through the water desperately, creating tiny streams of bubbles that followed the ones coming from his nose, drifting languidly towards the surface, their casual pace seeming to mock him.
Down, down, down he fell, his lungs already beginning to burn. The light from the surface flickered and faded all too quickly- another lovely addition from her.
When finally he couldn’t hold his breath anymore, he inhaled- or tried to, as much as he could in the water- and waited as pain exploded in him. As his eyes rimmed with red, her face appeared in the water, forcing her to the center of his misery. And he understood. Each portion was a terror, a nightmare, so he could finally.
Be.
Broken.
With that realization, and with the pain threatening to force him to unconsciousness, the man jolted awake.
He was laying in the middle of a plain white room. His head throbbed painfully, though it was nothing compared to the pain of the nightmare, so he considered it a welcome release.
He closed his eyes and tried to reach his hand up to massage his temples, but his hand stopped short.
What? He glanced downward and found that his arms and legs were bound down to the bed. Ah, that’s right. They bound him to the bed during the nightmares, claiming it was to stop him from thrashing around and hurting himself. He saw through that lie. It was so he couldn’t run- not that he would be able to run should he have the chance. His ‘exercise’ these days consisted of walking to the restroom and back, if even that. Closing his eyes again, he braced for the discussion that would soon come.
“Checklist.”
“Patient 0-0-0-1. Did not give in to the treatment.”
“He has been here for ten months.”
“Is advised for more treatment.”
“Very well.” That voice was the one the man wanted to hear. Hers. He cracked his eyes open and peered at her. She smiled, then patted him gently on the shoulder, the kindly, almost filial action hiding the malevolence of her intentions. “Are you ready to give in yet, POW 0-0-0-1? You’ve been here quite a long time.”
“N-n-ne-ver,” the man hissed, the word coming easily to his lips.
The woman hummed softly, grinning. “You know you’re losing, right? The war? Your tech just can’t compete with ours.”
The man chose not to reply, instead straining to meet her eyes.
“Very well,” the woman sighed, though her eyes gleamed gleefully. “Prepare the serum.”
“No break?” The man asked, trying- and failing- once again to adjust his position.
“No.”
The man ached, but he couldn’t fight back. If only they knew what he had been through…
“I never used to have nightmares,” he whispered, meeting her eyes. “Now they’re all about you.”
The woman smiled, her blonde hair, which typically fell in soft curls past her shoulders, hiding her eyes. She accepted a glass bottle filled with a thick blue liquid from an assistant, as well as a large syringe. Slowly filling the syringe with the liquid, she leaned in, meeting his eyes.
As she inserted the syringe into his arm and pressed the plunger, she whispered a curt reply.
“I know.”
