About
A place for me to put all my stories and my ideas for them in one place and somewhat organized.Following
“Damn…” he said softly into the heavy silence that hung between us. I wound my arms about myself and stared at the floor. Suddenly, under his appraising gaze I became a self-conscious child. I heard him take a step and when I looked up again I was surprised to see that it was one that brought him closer to my bared body, not further away. He looked at me earnestly before adding, “Even your scars are beautiful.”
I sat quietly on the seat at the window staring out in the field of grass behind out house. It was a beautiful old farmhouse with three stories, a dark basement, and a mysterious attic; plenty of nooks and crannies with which a girl with an over active imagination could occupy herself easily. But keeping myself occupied at the moment was harder than it usually was. I could hear yelling, twisting its way from my parents bedroom where they were arguing down to my seat in the den. I didn’t like it when my parents argued, it happened more and more frequently as of late and seemingly I was more often than not the subject of their harsh words, even if I wasn’t what started the argument to begin with.
“She’s not crazy, Adrienne! I will not send her there with those people!” I heard my father’s voice. He tried to keep his voice down so that we children would not have to play audience to yet another fight between them. But his voice was deep and it reverberated through the old wooden walls in a way that always made him sound as if he was in the next room no matter where in the house he actually was. My mother on the other hand was livid and cared much less if she forced her children to hear.
“Fine, not crazy! Troubled, then! There is something wrong with her, Beau! Just listen to her; she’s always talking about things that don’t exist. She sees things that aren’t there! She goes into fits and hysterics for no reason! And you’re telling me she’s not crazy!” she spat back at him. I had heard this argument a thousand times and everything that my mother said was true.
I did see things. Things I didn’t quite understand, things that no one else saw. And sometimes these things saw me back. They talked to me, yelled at me, and at times, even attacked me. The marks on my arms, legs, and even my back were testament to what could happen when those things got mad. But no one believed that they were real. My mother thought I did them to myself if anything. I was her troubled child. And with that I agreed. But I was not crazy.
“She has an over active imagination! She always has. That doesn’t mean she’s crazy.” my father pleaded again weakly. He may not have believed everything I said that I saw. But he would refuse until the day he died I think, to believe that I, his favorite child, his beloved little girl, was crazy.
“I refuse to believe that. Maybe as a child she had an active imagination, but at her age, she still shouldn’t be seeing imaginary people! She should have grown out of it, Beau. We should at least take her to Foster’s and talk to the Dr. about her. He was so helpful before maybe he can help us again. That’s all I’m saying, darling.” my mother said her voice finally dropping down to normal levels. I didn’t hear anything else coming from their room but I could guess that my father agreed at least to that. Whenever my mother starting using her sweet voice on him, all argument was effectively over.
- Looks like you should start packing your bags. - I looked up to see a dark figure standing on the other side of the room. My eyes went large and I quickly looked away. Sometimes if I pretended that I could not see them, they left me alone; sometimes. - That’s alright. - The voice said chuckling, only his chuckle had no joy or happiness in it. It was dark and the hairs on the back of my neck stood at the sound. - Ignore me all you wish, Charis. Soon enough, you’ll find that you cannot escape me. - The figure said with a sneer.
I peered back to the other side of the room but the dark figure was gone and I was once again alone. I jumped up quickly and bolted for the stairs. I took them two at a time until I reached the third floor of the house. I ran as quickly as I could down the hall and past my own door and my sisters. Instead I ran right to the door at the end of the hall and just as I got there it opened.
My brother looked down on me with a gentle smile and at the sight of his face I broke down into tears. He put his arms around me and drew me into the room. We sat on the edge of his bed and he held me until my sobbing quieted.
“Was it the argument or was it something else?” he asked when I had finally stopped crying. I sniffed and squeezed my arms around him tighter. I could feel him lean his head against mine and sigh. “So something else then.” He said understanding immediately. I nodded silently.
“Can I stay in here tonight?” I asked when my voice finally came back to me. My brother leaned down and kissed my forehead.
“Of course you can, silly.” he said. I sighed feeling comforted. I don’t know if my brother thought that I was crazy like everyone else, but my entire life he’d never treatedly badly for it. He was always there to comfort me and make me feel better, no matter what happened. As I snuggled into bed next to him a frightening though came to me. If my mother and father sent me away to Foster’s, who would hold me when the dark things came? I hoped that my father continued to stand his ground and keep me at home. I didn’t want to go to Foster’s and live with crazy kids. I wasn’t crazy. I just saw things no one else could. But that didn’t mean they aren’t really there does it?
Ok so I had the craziest dream last night and I’ve decided to turn it into a story at the insistence of my father who kept yelling “Go write it down!” the entire time I was trying to tell my family about my dream. Anyway, I wrote down the premise of the dream so that I don’t forget it and I’ll be posting the first chapter soon after. But here’s the premise:
A man ran an mental institution and once when he was younger hand a patient who could see into Abyss. It was another dimension where the souls of the dead go after their life. Abyss was a paradise and the patient took him there once. However shortly after the patient died and so did any ability for the doctor to return to the paradise he once glimpse. After lots of research the doctor learned much about the supernatural but most importantly that children born under certain conditions would be born with the ability to see and interact with his lost paradise. Armed with this knowledge he devised a plan.
He met with various different couples who were having trouble having children. The Dr. offered to help these couples conceive in hopes that some of them would produce children that would interact with his paradise. He even tried to get his wife pregnant in the same fashion to produce a child of his own that could. Out of every five couples he helped only one would bear children useful to him.
As they grew older they were considered troubled and he offered his mental institution to their parents in hopes to “help” the child. The problem was, that these children were not crazy. What they saw was not perceived by others, but it was as real as the sky above and the earth below; and the Dr. was proud. But when he tried to get the children to take him there none of them could. He believed that they wouldn’t out of stubbornness, but the truth was that none of them were powerful enough to do anything more than to see through the veil that parted the two worlds, they could be affected by the spirits that wandered through it but they could not wander through it themselves. Frustrated the doctor began to treat his patients terribly, forcing them to take medications for problems they didn’t have, denying them food, sleep, comfort, or whatever else he deemed necessary if they displeased him. But still he could not get one of them to do what he wanted.
So he continued to help couples get pregnant and he continued to produce children who could see through the veil. He figured he would eventually produce a child that could and would have the power to take him back to his beloved paradise.
Eventually a child is born who can do more than see through the veil. She can part it and move through and move others through as well. When she is brought to the institution by a non-believing mother she meets with other children who have the gift of seeing who have yet to go crazy from their visions and their treatment. When she is around these children their powers get stronger and they realize that they are all somehow connected after they find the old journal of the one patient that took the Dr. to Abyss. They begin to rally against their treatment and also begin to explore what they come to realize as gifts not sickness.
They pass into Abyss to find a much different one than the Dr. had visited. In the years since the Dr.’s first visit to Abyss and evil spirit has taken over the realm. Abyss is not more like hell than heaven. There are ghosts and ghouls and hooded ones, zombies and wraiths and hell hounds, all manner of hellish creatures abide there. Most dangerous of which are the spirits henchmen the Furred Ones. The Furred Ones are great creatures covered all over it massed of bristling fur, they have long ears that stand straight up and somewhat resemble that of a rabbit, but there is nothing cute about these creatures. The features of their face are sickly twisted into a spiral of teeth, nostrils, lips, cartilage, and tongues. One of the main forms of torture or punishment by the Furred Ones is ripping apart a being and not just their physical self but their soul as well so they simply do not exist in any form.
The spirit recognizes these children and recognizes their abilities and the threat they are to him. That is why he’s sent so many of his minions into the real world to make many of the gifted children to crazy. He knows that one will arise that could ruin his reign.
Charis teams up with Anna, Mikey, and Chisten to combat these forces of Abyss and restore it to the paradise it was. At one point they bring in Joel the son of the Dr. who has the gift but it is buried underneath all the drugs the Dr. gives him on a daily basis, and one orderly who takes pity on them.
“Then we will make you a crown!” she declared firmly. And she wove together bits of rope and inlaid it with shells, smooth stones, and rounded glass. When she finished she place it on his head with a smirk and a smile and said. “All hail the King of the Beach!”
He looked into the still pool of water at their feet an instead of a bit of rope and the litterings of beach trash, the boy saw a crown more lovely than any adornment of silver and gold making that he’d owned before. And for the first time in ages, he truly felt like the prince he was.
Just a little excerpt from a story I’m writing. It doesn’t have a name yet or much of a plot, but I can’t wait to see what it turns into.
I saw him smile up at me through the glass of the train’s window. I smiled back and pressed my hand against the cold surface. In return he raised his hand in a wave. Just then I heard an announcement that the train was about to depart and a tightness gripped my chest. I suddenly felt the need to jump up from my seat and run to the nearest exit. This train was taking me across country, far away from him and what I’d always known to be my home; I no longer felt like I wanted to be on it.
I think he saw the fear that gripped my heart creep up into my face because his eyes softened and a sympathizing expression replaced the forced happy one. He lifted his hand to his mouth and blew me a kiss. I quickly blew one back, trying to stave off the tears that were threatening to fall down my face. Just then the train began to pull away from the station. I frantically tried to keep his image in view as he slowly slipped from view. I no longer had the strength to hold back my own tears and they fell silently down my cheeks. I think I saw a tear escape his usually dry eyes before I could no longer see him again.
I slumped down into my seat and wrapped my arms around my shoulders. I would have given anything in that moment to have his arms around me instead. The train had barely even pulled away from the station and my heart already seemed to have a whole in it where he should have been. I don’t know how long it was I sat like that but it must have been a while. When I finally came to my senses I noticed another person sitting in the cabin with me and the sound of music.
A young man with short, spikey black hair and piercing green eyes smiled up at me and I could see pity in those startling eyes. He had a guitar in his lap and he was strumming randomly at the strings.
“You miss him a lot don’t you?” he asked quietly, “Was that your dad?” I nodded at him. I didn’t think I would have been able to speak just then. He nodded back and smiled.
“I thought so. You know whenever I miss someone, I write a song that reminds me of them. Wanna hear the one I wrote for my father?” he asked. Again I nodded simply. The boy dropped his head down and began to strum at the strings again. This time the notes actually sounded like a song, but soon it didn’t even sound like that. His song sounded like the comfort of my daddy’s arms around me. It was a song for our fathers.
Motor turned the knob and pushed heavily on the door. The heavy wooden door creaked on it’s hinges detesting his entry. Finally Motor managed to wrench it open and he stumbled through the doorway into the living room. He flicked on the light and for a moment nothing happened. Eventually the bulb overhead flickered on to shed it’s dim light on the rest of the room. Out of the corner of his eye Motor was sure he’d seen something scuttle towards a small crack in his baseboard, but he decided to ignore it for now; he’d already fogged the stupid house four times already in the last two weeks.
Kicking the door closed behind him Motor crossed the room to the patched work sofa that lay against the far wall. He slumped forward on to its threadbare cushions with a sigh. It had been a very long day and coming home to this the dark and dilapidated house wasn’t much of a comfort. Not that the house had changed much in the last couple of months. Cracks still ran rampant in the walls and floorboards, the plumbing leaked constantly, and the lights barely lit up the house; but still it just seem more melancholy lately.
Motor knew the reason of course; Jayce. It had been about a three months since their big fight and the day she moved out and back into her apartment on campus. A whole three month without her singing echoing through the walls, coming down to the kitchen at midnight to see her dancing as she did the dishes, and without her smile to brighten up his day. Motor missed having her around. He had been stupid for letting her leave in the first place. As much as he tried he couldn’t remember what it was that had been so life threatening and earth shattering at the time that he could possible have allowed her to get mad enough to leave him. Motor needed her here. This house just wasn’t home without her around.
Motor sighed and dug out his cell phone from his pocket. He punched in her number and brought the phone up to his ear. He would try apologizing again, and maybe this time she would come home.
“He cannot be placated, he cannot be reasoned with…You must come to understand child; Lycer wants chaos simply to see the worlds burn. And although I hate to burden you with such a weight, all that stands in his way are Artos, myself, and you few chosen; nothing else.” – Leris
The gray mass of a mop head made a sickening sound as Jules slid its slimy tendrils across the bathroom’s old tile floor. The young woman couldn’t possibly believe how something so disgusting could possibly be used to clean, but amazingly the dingy bathroom did manage to look and thankfully smell much better than it had when Jules first opened the door. The floor, toilets, and even parts of the walls of the club’s bathrooms had been covered in spilled alcohol, vomit, and feces; and the air was dank and putrid. Although this bathroom would never shine, the cracked, stained toilets, and the worn out linoleum was about as clean as it would ever get. Jules had even managed to scrub the lipstick and Sharpie ink off of the mirrors above the sink. Juliana sighed and leaned against the wall, she certainly did not get paid well enough for the job she did cleaning up this club.
“Please don’t leave.” A voice begged barely above a whisper. The girl froze in place, caught trespassing in his room. She turned to see deep blue eyes peering up at her from a pale, sallow face. The young man that lay there in the hospital bed could not have been much older than her own twenty one years, if he was even her age. When she had first come into the room Corin hadn’t known that it was occupied. The first bed by the door was obviously empty and for some reason it hadn’t occurred to her to check the bed behind the curtain closer to the window.
“I’m so sorry!” she apologized, backing quickly towards the door. “I didn’t know anyone was in here. I was just looking for a place to think. I’m sorry!” she continued her contrite ramble. She snatched her jacket off of the chair’s armrest and tried to hurry from the room. She knew that most of the patients on this floor had terminal illnesses and did not like to be bothered.
“Wait!” the young man called out, his voice straining to be heard across the room. Corin stopped midflight and bit her lip. She turned back towards him. “Please stay with me.”
Summary: Dane kissed juli while shes sleep and gets shocked, she wakes up and asks ‘did you just?’ and she denys it
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Dane grunted under the dead weight of Julianna unconsciously slung over his shoulder. He was running now, his boots thudding against the cement as he made his way towards the residential district of the city. Though sweat had long formed on his brow and spread damply across his chest and back the day was getting cooler as it was coming to a close. A quick glance upwards proved to Dane that the sun was indeed lowering itself on the horizon. It would be dark in not more than half and hour and he still had several miles to run before he reached the childrens’ apartment building. It would be close but Dane was certain he could make it there before the creatures came out in force; he wasn’t so certain about Jules though.
