9 years ago
These wings aren't really here, they're just the trick of the light.
Sorting Things Out
10:16 PM
...Just a post since I'm not in much of a sleeping mood (since my cousin's mother is going home tomorrow and she insisted that we have to go attend church in the morning--and you know me, can't really wake up early and (don't assassinate me or something) I don't really take to a certain religion). Pretty much, I'm supposed to wake up early and I'm just not sleepy. Simple right?
Well, maybe I did have a reason. Earlier today I was awash with sadness--almost suddenly and I was bitter and angry and it isn't even that time of the month. Haha. Then when my cousin would ask me why I was like that I couldn't really explain it because I wasn't entirely sure how. This is how writing helps me though. :-)
Here's the situation:
I used to have a friend, whom I considered my best friend; this was around junior high. In ways, we were alike and had flaws but found something in each other that we could not have. She was pretty, tall, wrote really well and was pretty dang smart in math (unlike me haha) if I say so myself. I, on the other hand, was bad at Math, short (well, shorter than her but I'm pretty average in height), self-conscious, was a mediocre writer (at that time) and drew. During that time she was working on a story and I would draw her characters for her--which I liked to do but I wasn't that good of an artist then. There was even a time when we thought it'd be better if we were sisters and, after graduating, would board together with our other friends and work on projects or work together to pay off rent, you know, just have fun. It was a weird thought but I wanted to believe in it--which is foolish since life doesn't exactly work like that.
Then, something happened. I already knew that her parents had divorced a long time ago but I didn't know that she was kind of dependent on me to keep her life in order. So when I got angry and basically told her off (because of some selfish reason) she just broke down and the friendship and the dream went stale. I planned to apologize I couldn't bring myself to do it.
Because I knew her for the longest time (ever since I moved here) she too played a part in keeping my world in a balance. My world however was something I didn't like but had to follow along. My father would work, my mother would too. My step-brothers K and R made the house somewhat lively and, in a way, we knew what mother was capable of if something was amiss-- we've all been through her 'punishments.' And because of what I've been through with her I've always kept my guard up and didn't really want to cause any trouble at home; however, once I got to school I'd be free and be able to do whatever I wanted for that short amount of time.
Since she wasn't there I'd be happy and I was but once my friend and I no longer talked--my guard was put up and I wasn't sure what I was doing for that whole week, except talk to people that I normally wouldn't have. During that time, she probably thought I perpetually hated her (and she had every right to) but when people were talking behind her back and spreading some stupid rumor I'd refute them.
So, in a sense, I kind of miss having that someone in real life to talk to. Just talk, have fun, all that friend stuff since my guard is always up now and I don't really want it to be. Although I do talk to people and pal around, be nice and make funny/sarcastic remarks, they don't really know much about me and I them.
I'm still holding onto that childish belief that someone would sweep me off my feet and take me away from all this--a prince if you will-- I just never got around to saying it. Just someone I can relate to, as a friend or more (I guess being a libra kind of adds to this). I try my best to balance my life with what I want to do, trying to be a little realistic but avoiding being too realistic since that isn't in my nature.
I suppose that everyone is looking for that someone, and I'm not going to a be a kid for much longer (I know that much). It feels as if my childhood was consumed with trying to avoid my tyrannical mother, following the rules of my strict father, and moving around CA making then leaving friends behind. Right now I'm trying to reform myself, trying to find myself since I didn't have much freedom to do so when I was younger and the loss of a best friend...*sigh*.
Well, this is all I had to say. Not sure whether it made any sense but I just wanted to sort a couple things out. I'm sure people would understand. :-)
GASP. Dang that server ghost messing with the font size...
Oops. Nevermind. (it was fixed seconds later)
Well, maybe I did have a reason. Earlier today I was awash with sadness--almost suddenly and I was bitter and angry and it isn't even that time of the month. Haha. Then when my cousin would ask me why I was like that I couldn't really explain it because I wasn't entirely sure how. This is how writing helps me though. :-)
Here's the situation:
I used to have a friend, whom I considered my best friend; this was around junior high. In ways, we were alike and had flaws but found something in each other that we could not have. She was pretty, tall, wrote really well and was pretty dang smart in math (unlike me haha) if I say so myself. I, on the other hand, was bad at Math, short (well, shorter than her but I'm pretty average in height), self-conscious, was a mediocre writer (at that time) and drew. During that time she was working on a story and I would draw her characters for her--which I liked to do but I wasn't that good of an artist then. There was even a time when we thought it'd be better if we were sisters and, after graduating, would board together with our other friends and work on projects or work together to pay off rent, you know, just have fun. It was a weird thought but I wanted to believe in it--which is foolish since life doesn't exactly work like that.
Then, something happened. I already knew that her parents had divorced a long time ago but I didn't know that she was kind of dependent on me to keep her life in order. So when I got angry and basically told her off (because of some selfish reason) she just broke down and the friendship and the dream went stale. I planned to apologize I couldn't bring myself to do it.
Because I knew her for the longest time (ever since I moved here) she too played a part in keeping my world in a balance. My world however was something I didn't like but had to follow along. My father would work, my mother would too. My step-brothers K and R made the house somewhat lively and, in a way, we knew what mother was capable of if something was amiss-- we've all been through her 'punishments.' And because of what I've been through with her I've always kept my guard up and didn't really want to cause any trouble at home; however, once I got to school I'd be free and be able to do whatever I wanted for that short amount of time.
Since she wasn't there I'd be happy and I was but once my friend and I no longer talked--my guard was put up and I wasn't sure what I was doing for that whole week, except talk to people that I normally wouldn't have. During that time, she probably thought I perpetually hated her (and she had every right to) but when people were talking behind her back and spreading some stupid rumor I'd refute them.
So, in a sense, I kind of miss having that someone in real life to talk to. Just talk, have fun, all that friend stuff since my guard is always up now and I don't really want it to be. Although I do talk to people and pal around, be nice and make funny/sarcastic remarks, they don't really know much about me and I them.
I'm still holding onto that childish belief that someone would sweep me off my feet and take me away from all this--a prince if you will-- I just never got around to saying it. Just someone I can relate to, as a friend or more (I guess being a libra kind of adds to this). I try my best to balance my life with what I want to do, trying to be a little realistic but avoiding being too realistic since that isn't in my nature.
I suppose that everyone is looking for that someone, and I'm not going to a be a kid for much longer (I know that much). It feels as if my childhood was consumed with trying to avoid my tyrannical mother, following the rules of my strict father, and moving around CA making then leaving friends behind. Right now I'm trying to reform myself, trying to find myself since I didn't have much freedom to do so when I was younger and the loss of a best friend...*sigh*.
Well, this is all I had to say. Not sure whether it made any sense but I just wanted to sort a couple things out. I'm sure people would understand. :-)
GASP. Dang that server ghost messing with the font size...
Oops. Nevermind. (it was fixed seconds later)
SS: #129- Invitation
5:47 PMIMMORTALITY
The letters were red, bold, taking up the entire space of the front side of the card. On the back however, merely stated a date, time and place:
10/30/08
11:59 PM
The stars.
It was the strangest invite Ariadne had ever seen; it seemed like a stupid joke but this was an opportunity she didn't want to pass up. It was too late to turn back now.
* * *
Ariadne wasn't the most popular person at school nor was she involved in any social circles. She was normally alone, a book in her hands, going wherever she needed to be, doing what she was told—Ariadne was a loner; she didn't like it.
It was October, a day before it was time to bust out candy and costumes but that wasn't the subject most of the student-body was all atwitter about. It was an invitation to an event that only happened once a year. A student was giving it out—the kind of people Ariadne didn't like to associate with; the one person she thought to be her moral opposite, Odette. It wasn't always like this, for once, Ariadne had thought she'd found her first friend but Odette had turned her back on her. Still, Ariadne wasn't the kind to hold a grudge but Odette was. In a way, Ariadne was jealous of this girl, because she was everything she wasn't—it was what she wanted to be.
The halls were putrid, a stink bomb was set off, students rushed to their classes hands over their noses. Ariadne hated the halls the most. It was crowded and home of awkward moments such as: bumping into people, getting caught in the bell-rush (when students fill the halls right after the bell rings) and tripping by 'accident.' Ariadne knew her predicaments were no accident—she had the slight feeling that eyes were always watching her. She disliked being judged the most, though she was 'normal' in the case of the attire she wore, so there shouldn't be any reason for the spotlight to shine onto her. Then again, there was Odette.
"Move."
Her strides were confident, nails as sharp as her eyes, she was smiling but her eyes said otherwise. She flashed a card-size envelope in Ariadne's face, waving it around as if a treat for a dog, then, she continued her way out the fragrant hallway. Ariadne was glad that school was over; she wanted to go home, snuggle in her sheets and cry. She wasn't entirely sure why Odette hated her but she was sure that she'd be better off without it and, simply, didn't want to deal with it. Ariadne couldn't stand people hating her so she'd blame herself instead—their 'hate' channeling through her, making her miserable.
This was what she believed.
* * *
A knock was on the door.
Ariadne set her notebook down, making her way to the door, pencil in hand, and opening it. She was surprised.
"What are you doing here?"
Odette had her arms crossed, her lips curved in a grin but her voice was far from joyous nor was it malicious.
"What do you think?"
Ariadne was feeling uncomfortable. I don't want to deal with this. Her grip was tight over the handle. Not now.
"Too bad," she said, indignation flaring in her voice. Odette held out a hand, Ariadne flinched. "Take it."
It was the invitation. Ariadne swallowed hard. If she were to take this would it mean that their friendship would be restored? No. She thought about how long she had been made fun of, teased. She thought about how many times she cried, her feelings hurt, their hate—her hate. Her hate towards this girl. I hate you. Ariadne bit her bottom lip, there was a taste, salty; she couldn't recall when she'd begun to cry. I hate you. She couldn't recall anything now, except for her hatred. I hate you so much that I—
Enraged, blinded, her hand moved without a second thought.
It was quick, swift.
Her hands lightly felt at the pencil lodged in her neck. She couldn't speak, pain making her limbs slack. Odette fell to the concrete floor, one hand at her wound, the other gripping at the rough welcome mat, crumpling the corners of the partially bloodied envelope. Ariadne felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her.
Now she too felt weak; sliding onto the floor, her body trembling. For the first time now, their eyes met dead-on. She was dying, yes, that was the truth, but Odette was smiling, red streaking from her mouth. She coughed, her outstretched hand reaching the inside of the house; her fingers were no longer tense.
Ariadne had killed Odette and she never felt more better in her entire life.
Ariadne set her notebook down, making her way to the door, pencil in hand, and opening it. She was surprised.
"What are you doing here?"
Odette had her arms crossed, her lips curved in a grin but her voice was far from joyous nor was it malicious.
"What do you think?"
Ariadne was feeling uncomfortable. I don't want to deal with this. Her grip was tight over the handle. Not now.
"Too bad," she said, indignation flaring in her voice. Odette held out a hand, Ariadne flinched. "Take it."
It was the invitation. Ariadne swallowed hard. If she were to take this would it mean that their friendship would be restored? No. She thought about how long she had been made fun of, teased. She thought about how many times she cried, her feelings hurt, their hate—her hate. Her hate towards this girl. I hate you. Ariadne bit her bottom lip, there was a taste, salty; she couldn't recall when she'd begun to cry. I hate you. She couldn't recall anything now, except for her hatred. I hate you so much that I—
Enraged, blinded, her hand moved without a second thought.
It was quick, swift.
Her hands lightly felt at the pencil lodged in her neck. She couldn't speak, pain making her limbs slack. Odette fell to the concrete floor, one hand at her wound, the other gripping at the rough welcome mat, crumpling the corners of the partially bloodied envelope. Ariadne felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her.
Now she too felt weak; sliding onto the floor, her body trembling. For the first time now, their eyes met dead-on. She was dying, yes, that was the truth, but Odette was smiling, red streaking from her mouth. She coughed, her outstretched hand reaching the inside of the house; her fingers were no longer tense.
Ariadne had killed Odette and she never felt more better in her entire life.
* * *
It was mere minutes before the date specified on the invitation. Ariadne tried her best to make do with her wardrobe, though she didn't see the point in dressing up when she was just going to look at stars but she had to convince herself otherwise. Though it was difficult since her body lay in the denizens of her closet.
11:58 PM
The window was open, the invitation in her hands, her eyes closely watching the dark sky. Just one more minute, if nothing were to happen, Ariadne was to die. She didn't like the idea of prison and rotting, guilt racking her brain, people would hate her again and again would she feel pain—she'd rather kill herself than let that happen. No more pain.
11:59 PM
She continued to stand, the sky was blank, the stars faint due to the streetlamps that lined her street. Ariadne was near tears when a noise made her jump. It seemed to come from the closet. Slowly, Ariadne tip-toed to it, her heart racing within her chest. A dead person can't move but what was making that noise?
Ariadne pried the door open, hesitant due to that fact that it had been hours since her body was placed there.
Nothing.
Another noise. Ariadne turned, it was a doll, or it seemed like one. It was beautiful, it's face, eyes, Ariadne couldn't tell whether it a women or a man—it seemed like a dream. Suddenly, softly, the doll had embraced Ariadne, smoothing her hair. She felt safe in the doll's arms and closed her eyes, the light it emitted was blinding.
I can save you, it said, a soft lilting voice, You will no longer feel any of this pain. Put your faith in me and I promise I will never leave you my child.
Ariadne didn't have time to answer. Her eyes were open, the doll was not in her arms anymore but a body as pitch black as a starless night. She couldn't pull free, she was sinking into the mass, distorted screams and cries of people ringing in her ears. As her body couldn't pull free, her eyes couldn't stop staring into the dark oblivion ahead of her. Thousands upon thousands of eyes, faces, were looking at her. The faces overlapped each other, rippling if she were to breath upon the creature—they were reflections, the souls of the people that created this thing; this monster. She sunk within the blackness, her eyes shut tight as she did so.
Then it was gone. The feeling of sinking disappeared, being replaced with the assumption that it was just a nightmare.
It was morning, sheets placed over her eyes, blocking the sunlight that peered through the blinds. The alarm clock had been ringing. For how long? She slipped out of bed, struggling towards the clock, and shut it off. Suddenly realizing that she had ten minutes before school started, she rushed for her school things, stuffing them inside the bag and setting it off to the side. she then reached for her towel and headed into the restroom. She paused, dropping the towel onto the floor.
She looked at her hands, they were the same, she looked at the mirror, her hands, the mirror, her hands one last time. It didn't make any sense. A knock on the door, her step-brother. She admitted she felt scared from the sound; she glanced at the mirror for a brief moment. Ariadne was relieved, believing that it was just a hallucination.
She thought she saw the creature in the mirror for a second there.
11:58 PM
The window was open, the invitation in her hands, her eyes closely watching the dark sky. Just one more minute, if nothing were to happen, Ariadne was to die. She didn't like the idea of prison and rotting, guilt racking her brain, people would hate her again and again would she feel pain—she'd rather kill herself than let that happen. No more pain.
11:59 PM
She continued to stand, the sky was blank, the stars faint due to the streetlamps that lined her street. Ariadne was near tears when a noise made her jump. It seemed to come from the closet. Slowly, Ariadne tip-toed to it, her heart racing within her chest. A dead person can't move but what was making that noise?
Ariadne pried the door open, hesitant due to that fact that it had been hours since her body was placed there.
Nothing.
Another noise. Ariadne turned, it was a doll, or it seemed like one. It was beautiful, it's face, eyes, Ariadne couldn't tell whether it a women or a man—it seemed like a dream. Suddenly, softly, the doll had embraced Ariadne, smoothing her hair. She felt safe in the doll's arms and closed her eyes, the light it emitted was blinding.
I can save you, it said, a soft lilting voice, You will no longer feel any of this pain. Put your faith in me and I promise I will never leave you my child.
Ariadne didn't have time to answer. Her eyes were open, the doll was not in her arms anymore but a body as pitch black as a starless night. She couldn't pull free, she was sinking into the mass, distorted screams and cries of people ringing in her ears. As her body couldn't pull free, her eyes couldn't stop staring into the dark oblivion ahead of her. Thousands upon thousands of eyes, faces, were looking at her. The faces overlapped each other, rippling if she were to breath upon the creature—they were reflections, the souls of the people that created this thing; this monster. She sunk within the blackness, her eyes shut tight as she did so.
Then it was gone. The feeling of sinking disappeared, being replaced with the assumption that it was just a nightmare.
* * *
It was morning, sheets placed over her eyes, blocking the sunlight that peered through the blinds. The alarm clock had been ringing. For how long? She slipped out of bed, struggling towards the clock, and shut it off. Suddenly realizing that she had ten minutes before school started, she rushed for her school things, stuffing them inside the bag and setting it off to the side. she then reached for her towel and headed into the restroom. She paused, dropping the towel onto the floor.
She looked at her hands, they were the same, she looked at the mirror, her hands, the mirror, her hands one last time. It didn't make any sense. A knock on the door, her step-brother. She admitted she felt scared from the sound; she glanced at the mirror for a brief moment. Ariadne was relieved, believing that it was just a hallucination.
She thought she saw the creature in the mirror for a second there.
Random UNAUTHORIZED Post Ahead!
9:29 AMHello all!
I doubt that this is appropriate (since I’m typing this during my Comp Graphics class). I haven’t been posting much on this blog but that’s changing at this very moment (LOL). Currently, I haven’t really been paying attention in school—just kind of drifting in and out due to lack of sleep, as well as my cousin’s mom staying over at the house. The bad thing about why she’s staying here is that my mother hates (I think) my cousin and her mom for some stupid reason so she can’t ever find out that they’re here (but I like them). There were a few close calls but those were dealt with—I’m just glad she’s staying till this weekend! But besides all the family drama, it’s been a good week (when I’m at home) and I finished re-reading CHILD 44 just yesterday. Now I’ve set my reading glasses to The Story of Edgar Sawtelle—and I may need glasses since the formatting and font size makes the page seem like a group gathering at Tienanmen Square (and that’s a heck of a square my readers—okay, maybe a good one or two, or that server ghost from some unknown land somewhere that haunts all innocent bloggers). GASP.
[insert dramatic orchestrated music HERE]
Assessment Days
6:01 PM
Besides the world getting a little off these days--getting either better or worse by the day (not so sure myself). Tomorrow I'm to take the 3-week assessments. I wonder too whether other high schools do the same thing? Well, I can say I'm kind of prepared and not--meaning I'm more confident about the English assessment than Algebra 2 (and I dislike Alg 2 with a passion of a thousand suns) but I have no choice but to go through the class in order to graduate. Maybe it would've been better if I didn't take Alg 1 in the summer before freshman year--so all I have to take this year is geometry (which was easy for me).
Hmm, besides me venting about school--the story is going pretty well. I'm doing a couple of revisions though but I'll still be able to post on Friday (and this Friday is going to be awesome since it'll be a half day--on which I get out of school around 12:57 or something). I think it's going along at a good pace but I'm going to need a second opinion on that. :-) Aside from my writing and school, everything is going okay.
...Err...I didn't have a lot to say this time.
*goes off on Microsoft Word Works Processor to continue typing*
Hmm, besides me venting about school--the story is going pretty well. I'm doing a couple of revisions though but I'll still be able to post on Friday (and this Friday is going to be awesome since it'll be a half day--on which I get out of school around 12:57 or something). I think it's going along at a good pace but I'm going to need a second opinion on that. :-) Aside from my writing and school, everything is going okay.
...Err...I didn't have a lot to say this time.
*goes off on Microsoft Word Works Processor to continue typing*
SS: #128- Coffee
8:37 PM
I could sure use a cup of coffee right now (or hot chocolate) tons of people lost their jobs and several big companies filed for bankruptcy.
WTH?
WTH?
Update and More Stuff
6:15 PM
Finally another week gone by and I'm a little tired from it all. I'm sure some people can relate. :-D Ah well, I finally got to writing out some of the parts to that story I was talking about in some past post somewhere. I can tell that I'm enjoying the process because I hardly gave any attention in some of my classes (bad bad me *sad face* ) and instead of doing so I got to writing the rough draft for Ch.1 and just began on Ch.2.
I'll attempt to update weekly since I like to edit stuff from time to time (and if anyone would like to help edit some of the drafts I'd be more glad to appoint anyone as Editor--and since I don't have Microsoft Word but Microsoft Works Word Processor (some outdated version of MWord) I'm going to ask if it's possible to edit the draft using the Google Docs feature or some other way--we'll just have to compromise then)
Besides appointing an editor-- :-) I put the story blog on my blogroll (Love of Fate). I'd say it's a mixture of my two loves: Obscure phrases and dark fiction.
Who doesn't like dark fiction?
I'll attempt to update weekly since I like to edit stuff from time to time (and if anyone would like to help edit some of the drafts I'd be more glad to appoint anyone as Editor--and since I don't have Microsoft Word but Microsoft Works Word Processor (some outdated version of MWord) I'm going to ask if it's possible to edit the draft using the Google Docs feature or some other way--we'll just have to compromise then)
Besides appointing an editor-- :-) I put the story blog on my blogroll (Love of Fate). I'd say it's a mixture of my two loves: Obscure phrases and dark fiction.
Who doesn't like dark fiction?
Just a Break
10:01 PM
It's been a tough second week so far! Usually the second week would come a lot smoother but apparently not. I don't have much time to blog about a lot of things since I'm up to my face in homework or things I need to do that happen to have importance currently.
Last weekend, Saturday to be exact, was the day when I got two teeth pulled out on the left side of my face--the other two are getting taken out this weekend. I had such a monstrous headache and I started panicking when I saw blood dribbling from my chin and arm (when I tried to cover it up) and the taste was just horrible...but the feeling went down soon enough and I'm still getting used to chewing on only one side of the mouth. :-D But hey, I'm pretty optimistic on these kind of things.
Well, my break is almost over. I need to get back to writing a paper on what my opinion is on the '08 election as well as choosing a passage from Julius Caesar for English III. So I'll use the time I have left to ask you, the reader (whoever is doing so) how are you? what's up? and similar questions--interpret it however you like. I'm sure we all have something on our minds that we need to say. :-)
Last weekend, Saturday to be exact, was the day when I got two teeth pulled out on the left side of my face--the other two are getting taken out this weekend. I had such a monstrous headache and I started panicking when I saw blood dribbling from my chin and arm (when I tried to cover it up) and the taste was just horrible...but the feeling went down soon enough and I'm still getting used to chewing on only one side of the mouth. :-D But hey, I'm pretty optimistic on these kind of things.
Well, my break is almost over. I need to get back to writing a paper on what my opinion is on the '08 election as well as choosing a passage from Julius Caesar for English III. So I'll use the time I have left to ask you, the reader (whoever is doing so) how are you? what's up? and similar questions--interpret it however you like. I'm sure we all have something on our minds that we need to say. :-)
SS: #127- Miracle
5:33 PM
Allow me to ask for a miracle...
In other words, a wish to come true.
I'm sure, for the people that live on this earth number as many as the stars in the universe,
that we all wish for something at sometime.
A selfish desire perhaps?
Maybe a well-wisher instead.
Whatever and however we wish for something--most likely, it does not come true.
To put this in my terms, a wish is similar to a goal.
Maybe not SO much as similar but it is something we want to happen.
The only thing people don't realize is that a wish comes true from our efforts.
Why else do we do so?
To have some hope left in whatever situation that made us wish for something in the first place.
Then again, the word wish sounds a little silly (like the time when I thought I could claim that one star in the sky)
So, instead, grant me a miracle.
Or just let me utter these words to an empty space--regaining the small flame that died from my tears.
In other words, a wish to come true.
I'm sure, for the people that live on this earth number as many as the stars in the universe,
that we all wish for something at sometime.
A selfish desire perhaps?
Maybe a well-wisher instead.
Whatever and however we wish for something--most likely, it does not come true.
To put this in my terms, a wish is similar to a goal.
Maybe not SO much as similar but it is something we want to happen.
The only thing people don't realize is that a wish comes true from our efforts.
Why else do we do so?
To have some hope left in whatever situation that made us wish for something in the first place.
Then again, the word wish sounds a little silly (like the time when I thought I could claim that one star in the sky)
So, instead, grant me a miracle.
Or just let me utter these words to an empty space--regaining the small flame that died from my tears.
TWC: Challenge #38
5:06 PMThis was the challenge that TWC issued in August. I believe that we had to include these things: beehive, Creeping Charlie, a hotplate, a public restroom/toilet and sandpaper. I was going for a more comical piece, as well as adding some Shakespearian blurbs I tend to banter with people I know personally. The characters I used belong to a different world but I wondered what kind of people they would become in real life and what they would do etc. It was an interesting thought so this piece came out very easily (which meant I made some grammatical errors--and it's too late for me to send them a different file).
Anyways, enjoy it. This was just done for fun. :-)
Anyways, enjoy it. This was just done for fun. :-)
* * * * *
“That‘s What You Get”
By LAELAH
By LAELAH
“…Come I to speak in Caesar’s funeral. He was my friend, faithful and just to me. But Brutus says--”
“--he was ambitious, yes, now can you stop with Julius Caesar? I thought we took this trip to forget about school.”
Julia shut the book in a snap, shoving the spine upon her brother’s shoulder. “Well, excuse me. Unlike you, I’m actually trying in English and I still can’t pass! Why did you have to be the smart one and I the pretty one?”
“Ha. Methinks you flatter thyself,” he replied.
“Did you just say something?” she said, placing the book in her bag. Instead of answering, Lucius turned on the radio, remembering to max out the volume. Julia zipped up her bag and lowered the volume. “Very funny. Just concentrate on driving okay?” Julia folded her arms and closed her eyes. Finals were coming up and Shakespeare just didn’t make any sense. It was times like this that she could appreciate her brother (though it was really for the car but he doesn’t know).
“Lucius?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes, “Can you turn up the radio?”
“My car, my rules. Turn it up yourself,” he remarked simply.
“Right, right,” she did as she was told, and sat back in the seat. Her favorite song began to play…soon enough she began to sing along. “I got a lot to say to you. Yeah, I got a lot to say. I noticed your eyes are always glued to me. Keeping them here. And it makes no sense at all. They taped over your mouth. Scribbled out the truth with their lies…Hey! Pffft--you didn‘t have to turn it off.”
“As much as I enjoy your horrid singing…the car needs gas.”
“Okay…that still isn’t any reason to--”
“The top’s down dummy. I don’t want to draw attention in a place like this…” he said, flipping on the turn signal.
“Lucius, it’s a convertible. A BMW Convertible to be specific and it‘s shiny. Everyone’s going to have to look at it sometime.”
He slowly put the car to a stop, right after making sure it was aligned to the gas pump. “Stay here,” he said taking the keys from the ignition. “Need anything?”
“I’d say yes but 1) I doubt it’s sanitary so I’m gonna hold it and 2) the tissue’s like sandpaper…Eew.”
Lucius sighed as he got out the car and closed the door, “I’ll see if they have Kleenex…anything else?”
Julia smiled, “H20 would be nice.”
As Lucius headed to the mini-mart, Julia took out her cell. She was hoping for a text message to pass the time or someone to call. No signal…great. She tucked the phone back in her pants pocket. This place is deserted. Literally, it’s all desert and barely anything else but dust and rocks. Plain, boring rocks…and it’s hot nonetheless. Julia exhaled and reached into her bag, after rummaging around she took out her ipod and began unraveling the cords wound around it. While she fumbled with the earphones a water bottle and plastic pack of tissues was flung on her lap. Another water bottle was thrown at the backseat.
“Thanks,” she said and placed the bottle in the cup-holder nearby, the tissues in her bag. She resumed untangling the cords.
“Mm-hmm.”
Once Julia got the earphones free she didn’t hesitate turning up the volume. She adjusted the seat to go farther back then took a sip of water. By the time the bottle was placed in the holder, Lucius had already started the car. He looked at her, sunglasses and eyebrows raised, his mouth was moving but no words came out.
“Speak louder will ya?” she remarked, removing one of the earphones.
“I said: It’s going to be a while till we get there. A couple hours or so. Want me to pull the top down?”
Julia nodded. “A couple hours? That’d be nice. Can you turn the AC on too? I’ve been meaning to get some sleep…Thanks again.”
“No prob.”
* * * * *
Julia’s eyes briefly opened. In her laid back state she could see tidbits of where they were from the window. Unlike the so-called desert, there were patches of sky now due to the fact that trees lined the road, and the occasional lamppost. She quickly brought the ipod at eyelevel, minding the battery level. Green. She rubbed her eyes, exhaled and sat up, remembering to adjust the seat.
“How goes it good sir?” Julia yawned as the ipod was returned to the denizens of her bag.
“You might as well drop the Shakespeare act. I don’t know how mother would react if you began talking in Olde English.”
“Sheesh. What’s up with the formalities? Anyways, I thought I could forget about Dead Week but it even torments me in my dreams! Ugh.”
“Stop stressing. If you do you won’t pass.”
“Oh. That makes me feel loads better. But I know what you’re talking about…Ah, if I had your attitude I’d probably pass.”
“What are you implying?”
She only chuckled in response.
“Whatever…We’re here.”
Julia removed her seatbelt and made her way outside. She stretched her arms and inhaled the air. I love this house. Rosaline’s--er, Mom’s house. She then reached for her bag, making sure to grab the water bottle before shutting the door.
“Ready to go?”
Julia looked across the car. Lucius waited for her response, his own bag slung over his shoulders.
“Yeah!”
* * * * *
The gate creaked open as Lucius held it for Julia to pass. As a rebuke Julia tugged Lucius’ hair, she then smiled and nudged him with her shoulder. Her eyes said to him to quit the formalities. Once she stepped ahead of him he quickly pushed her forward, she jumped, remembering the crevasse in the stepping stone. She laughed triumphantly while Lucius merely shrugged before making his way to the door. Julia regained her posture and stood by him as the doorbell was pressed.
“Why did you have to be so tall?”
“Why’re you so short then?”
“I can never win can I?”
“It’s your fault. You keep picking fights you can’t win.”
“Ah, it appears you have wronged me brother. ‘Tis be small talk to pass the time.”
Lucius gave a small laugh.
“Hurrah! It appears the stick hath fallen from thy derrière! What say you to a feast? This be a worthy moment to commemorate.”
“I say…” he paused, mocking thoughtfulness by stroking his chin. Julia couldn’t help but laugh. He stopped and ruffled her golden hair. “You try too hard…the language of Shakespeare doesn’t suit a person such as yourself.”
Finally, the door opened. A woman, who resembled Lucius in many ways, stood there with open arms.
“My son,” she said, blue eyes twinkling, embraced him, “…my how you’ve grown!” She released him and turned her sights to Julia, who made her way into her arms. “My beautiful daughter…” she brushed the gold hair that hid her eyes, “Why so pale?” Rosaline withdrew her embrace and took Julia’s hands in hers. “What do you say to some tea? I’ve finally found a way to make those weeds useful.”
Julia furrowed her brow. “Tea made from weeds? Doesn’t sound too appetizing…Blech.”
Rosaline smiled. “Come on, give it a try! I have some honey to make it sweet if you’d like. Please consider it.”
“Okay.”
“That’s my girl. You’ll love it. Now, make yourself at home while I prepare it.”
Julia and Lucius made their way up the stairs and into their respective rooms. Once Julia set her things on her bed she rushed to the restroom, suddenly regretting drinking water earlier that day. After washing her hands, she descended the staircase and into the kitchen. Rosaline wasn’t present but the water for the tea was put to a boil. She noted the freshly washed leaves placed in a bowl and the delightful aroma it released.
“I wonder what plant this is…” she muttered, taking another whiff, “the smell is familiar though.”
“You serious? We passed it on the way in here,” Lucius remarked from the cupboard, reaching for the cups then setting them aside.
“No way.”
Lucius nodded while placing each cup onto a tiny dish. “Glechoma hederacea is the scientific--”
“English please.”
“Catsfoot or Creeping Charlie,” he replied, in a dull tone, “Look out the window. You can tell which plant it is by noting the purple flowers--bees like the plant as well. Shouldn’t be hard to find now is it?”
“Yeah…I’ve been wondering why bees have been swarming around lately,” she said, peering outside through the window over the sink, “Lucius, you don’t think Mom gets her honey from the bees do you?”
“No,” raising an eyebrow as he lowered the fire from the stove. “That’s dangerous if you’re not trained to handle bees. She probably gets her honey from the market.”
“I know.”
“Ah, good, the cups are all set.” Rosaline entered the kitchen with her jet black hair pulled back with a clip. “You should sit and relax. The ride here must’ve taken a lot of energy.”
The two did as they were told. Julia situated herself on the couch, hands at her lap. Lucius only sat for a moment and then excused himself to go back upstairs.
After a few minutes, Rosaline brought out a tray that contained the cups filled with the aromatic tea. A bottle of honey was also set aside, along with sugar and the teapot itself. “Shall I fix you a snack? I’ve recently got my hands on some strawberries so I made some jam.”
“Homemade jam? Yes please!” Julia took up the cup and blew on it.
“It’s my best yet. I’ll prepare some for the both of you right now…”
Julia took a whiff of the tea one more time before taking a sip. She found it bitter and set the tea on the tray. As she placed a spoon or so of sugar and a dollop of honey, while mixing it, Lucius returned carrying a hotplate. He stepped into the kitchen and placed it on the counter.
“Mother, you’ve always been discontent with the stove so I bought this for you. Instead of paying to fix the stove, you can save your money by using this instead.”
A smile curved her lips as she approached her son. “Just like him you’re ever so thoughtful Lucius. I was about to send for a repairman but this is fantastic! Thank you so much! In fact…—” Rosaline took a ribbon from her wrist “—if you pull back your hair…like so--”
“Mother…”
Until she was satisfied with the ribbon, Rosaline pulled back and admired her son’s look. “Julia, don’t you think he looks like a prince?”
Julia was forced to set her tea down. Her fingers began to lose all control, soon her whole body was limp from laughter.
“Aww, don’t make such a sour face. Be proud of your looks, I’m sure the girls at that school of yours swoon over you,” she said, pinching his cheeks on purpose, “Smile and take a seat. Go on.”
Lucius gave a dry laugh as he pinched Julia’s arm. She yowled in pain, but she still laughed making her fall to her sides (which pretty much took most of the space on the couch).
“Move,” he said darkly, pinching her again.
“Ow! Pffft--no worries your princeliness. I shall. I shall!” she remarked, trying to stifle her laughs. “Please, I beg upon your good will dear prince, your pinches hurt me so.”
He pinched her again and crossed his arms. “You take things too far Julia.”
“Now, now be on good terms. This is a weekend is it not?” Rosaline entered with dishes in both hands, “A small snack to commemorate your coming… I could never be more happy to see you both! Don’t go ruining it now.” She set the dishes near the tray and took her seat. “Toast with homemade jam and a little powdered sugar. I thought’d be best since you seem tired.—” she took a small spoonful of sugar and stirred the tea “—so how are things? Is Kaine taking proper care of you?”
“Maybe you should visit and see for yourself,” Lucius said, taking a bite of toast. “He could never replace Father, if that’s your intent for asking, but it’s been good.”
Julia didn’t say a word except decided to give the tea a try again.
“I understand,” Rosaline set the tea down and cleared her throat, “but you know how things are ever since he passed away. I can never forgive him…”
It was eerily quiet. Julia set her tea down as well, it didn’t feel right if no one else was going to.
Lucius especially looked tense, he sat, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped tight. The ribbon unraveled long ago so strands of his hair strayed over his shoulder.
Rosaline took up her tea once again and drank. “..but I trust him to be a sufficient guardian. Besides, this place would fall apart if I left. I have to do everything in my power to keep it alive…to keep him alive.” Placing the cup upon the table, she reached for the teapot but Lucius took a hold of it first.
“I should pour,” he even stood as he poured bwing with humility before returning to his seat, “I shouldn’t even have brought it up…”
She smiled and took a spoonful of sugar. “Do not burden yourselves with this matter. In fact, let’s just enjoy the time we have together.”
Julia took her cup and finally set it to her lips. She froze.
“Are you okay?” Lucius remarked, the toast mere centimeters from his mouth.
She set the cup down and poured into it some hot tea. “It got cold so the sugar didn’t dissolve so I…”
Before she knew it, mother and son joined in laughter while Julia stirred her over-sugared tea. Now it’s their time to laugh. She grinned. After a bout like that, I’m glad they are.
* * * * *
Morning had come quickly which meant they had to depart quickly too. After being served breakfast and bidding a reluctant farewell, Lucius and Julia began on the drive home.
“I’m glad she let us take some jam. I wonder if we have some powdered sugar at home…”
“Not sure. But if you want to buy some it’s coming out of your wallet.”
“You sound like a dad,” Julia raised an eyebrow, a smirk on her face.
“What’s that look for?”
“Methinks the prince desires to rule the kingdom--”
“Stop it…”
“--so he can remove his princely title.”
“Okay. That’s it. I’m getting a haircut.”
The more you look at it, it gets weirder and weirder.
4:42 PM
I just suddenly noticed the Followers thing on the dashboard and put it up on my blog. I thought it was a cool idea. Bah! More ramblings I think. Yes but the word followers looks weird to me--at least, if I keep looking at it. I think some people have noticed that sometime in their life. *shrugs*
When I looked at my past posts I couldn't help but feel a little bit vain or selfish. That happens though when there is nothing to do (or at least having the mindset that you have nothing to do) and you suddenly start thinking of the things you don't want to think of. But I suppose that this was why I started this blog anyways...to have something to do, to talk about stuff and pretty much vent about problems. It seems like the typical teenager kind of thing doesn't it? *hides in a corner*
Ah well, now that I'm busy I don't have to dwell about things like that anymore--at least, not so much. I've suddenly taken a bigger interest in writing and I'm hoping to develop it more so, besides Sunday Scribblings, I'm a member of The Writing Circle (as you might know from a post back in June) and they just sent out the newest challenge--but of course I can't tell you what it is. ;-)
When I looked at my past posts I couldn't help but feel a little bit vain or selfish. That happens though when there is nothing to do (or at least having the mindset that you have nothing to do) and you suddenly start thinking of the things you don't want to think of. But I suppose that this was why I started this blog anyways...to have something to do, to talk about stuff and pretty much vent about problems. It seems like the typical teenager kind of thing doesn't it? *hides in a corner*
Ah well, now that I'm busy I don't have to dwell about things like that anymore--at least, not so much. I've suddenly taken a bigger interest in writing and I'm hoping to develop it more so, besides Sunday Scribblings, I'm a member of The Writing Circle (as you might know from a post back in June) and they just sent out the newest challenge--but of course I can't tell you what it is. ;-)
SS: #126- Somewhere
8:08 PM
I thought I'd try this prompt out with a story I've been itching to write since I thought of the idea years ago.
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Lucia sat on the rocking chair. She stared at the same window, towards the same hill where the same sun rose. For most of the day she stayed there, her knitting in hand, casually taking a glance every now and then. A sigh escaped from her lips, the needle was set down then her hands rose to cup her face as she sobbed.* * *
My mother had told me a story, her eyes ranging from happy to sad. Sometimes tears would fall and all I could do was offer an embrace just to soothe this pain that I cannot feel. From time to time she'd tell me that I reminded her of him. When I finally got the courage to ask about my father I did. She motioned for me to sit down on her lap, setting the knitting aside the open window. As I sat she brushed her fingers through my hair, something she did when her mind was troubled.
"Maori,"she said, "your father was a good man. My sadness is nothing to be concerned about."
"But mother,"I faced her and took a lock of her hair. It had begun to lost it's color, I showed her, her expression didn't change, "I don't want them to talk about you anymore. They say that you've gone mad and that I shouldn't stay here...but I want to live here and take care of you. Until father comes back."
She smiled, shook her head, stroking my hair again. Then, in a low shaky voice she said, "He can't. He can't come back anymore. This isn't where he belongs."
"Then where is he?"
"Somewhere, love."
It was now my turn to disagree. "But I want to know what happened so when I find him I can get him to come back. You need him mother. Look at you--"
Lucia cocked her head to one side, her hands steadying my shoulders. Tears had begun rolling from her eyes as she embraced me. Her body had begun to shake. "But he's right here. Alexander, my love, is here--" she retracted her embrace to face me "--your beautiful eyes give me hope that he's out there somewhere. Soon, he will come home. Soon he'll see what a wonderful son you are. Soon...I promise."
After that day, my mother was in better spirits. When I went outside, she did as well picking the flowers she loved from the fields. When I went by the riverbank, she came too dipping her feet into the clear waters urging me to join her. At this time, I thought it best to keep her happy. Although her hair had lost it's color it shone bright like the winter snow. Though for her age the color was unusual but so were my eyes. We both didn't let it get to us. As long as she kept smiling there was no trouble, no sad memories.
Then she finally told me the story.
"Your father was an unusual one. To tell you the truth I met him while picking these daisies, the same field too. He was sleeping on the incline and I thought it was too good to be true. His face, hair and when he awoke, staring at me with those eyes that reminded me of golden fields I could only think--" her voice began to falter, as if thinking twice before talking "--could only think that-that this man could not possibly exist. It felt like a dream to put it simply Maori.
"Soon, as we spent more time together, talking and taking walks in the river. We were soon in love and everything--" Lucia placed a hand at her cheek, her mind replaying an old memory "--everything began from there. We stayed together till the day you were born. Since then I've never been able to see him again.--" she pulled on her necklace revealing a silver ring "--This and you are the only remnants I have of him. Don't you think it sad for me to be lovesick like this Maori? Sure it isn't something you can't comprehend yet..."
I was curious so I spoke. "Why?"
"Find someone to love and you'll know."
"But where do I--"
Suddenly the door burst open, letting the night air enter the house. He stepped inside, removing the cover over his face. Grigori's eyebrows were furrowed, sweat dripping to the tip of his chin, his mouth moved but no words came out. Lucia's fingers clenched tightly around the ring on the chain, her free hand was tightly clenched into a fist.
"They can't be..."
Grigori shut the door behind him, locking it. "The curtains."
Lucia fussed with her hands, double-checking that every window was shut and the curtains drawn. Maori sat still, unable to understand. He should be happy now that Grigori returned from his trip but the time didn't seem right to be happy. Something was happening.
"Maori," Grigori remarked, kneeling to face the thirteen year old, "how'd you like to go on a little trip?"* * *It was dark, cold and it had begun to sprinkle. Grigori told me to stay hidden behind this tree. Stay hidden? Was this a game? I peered from the tree, gripping the cloak around my body, I saw that all the houses weren't the same as mother's house. The curtains were open, the villagers could be heard being merry. There was no trouble but then I heard it. I saw it. Among the darkness of the forest that surrounded this village, it was clear to see. Fire. Torches. You could hear them now. Crash! Clang! The gate was being broken down. I returned to hiding, making myself as small as I could as I crouched near the base of the tree.
My heart was pounding upon my chest. The cloak was tightened around me. Surely this cloak could protect me as it blended well with the scenery but what was it I was hiding from? I debated, trying to be logical. I can't panic now, not right before I saw whatever it was that got me scared out of my wits. Scared? For what? I stood, my knees stiff and breath haggard. As I was about to turn a scream had scared the birds from their resting places. I closed my eyes and decided to stay close to the ground.
"You can't be scared now Maori. Get up."
I looked up seeing the outline of Grigori among the stars, his ice blue eyes almost shining; glaring in the dark similar to that of a cat.
"Grigori I--"
"There isn't anytime," he took my arm. I gasped letting the cloak slip away from my face. "It's just a little blood nothing to be worried about. Now come on!"
I covered my head again and followed him for a few steps. I pulled on his arm, he looked at me and in a stern voice he said, "What is it?"
I gulped. It was the first time I heard him talk like that before but this was important. "My mother where is she?"
Suddenly Grigori turned around and ducked, motioning me to do the same. We silently watched as the house I lived in, my mother's and my father's burned. Grigori placed his palm over my mouth. I wanted to scream, to cry out for my mother, my father. There were men, dressed in black armor, that did the same to the other houses. Burning them killing all who lived inside and if any escaped, they were executed through decapitation. I struggled to see straight for tears clouded my sight.
My vision distorted, colors pooling into each other, melding together. The orange stood out the most.
Grigori held me close, tightening his grip, we couldn't afford to be seen so we huddled behind the tree with cloaks over our heads. Now I couldn't see anything. Nothing but black.
I closed my eyes, water falling onto Grigori's hand. Then the cloak was lifted, a cloth was given to me. He kept his hand over my mouth as I dried my eyes and upper lip. I looked at him and he put a finger to his lips. He then removed his hand from my mouth, using the same cloth to wipe them clean. The cloth was returned to me, sodden with tears and blood from his wounds. I tugged on his pants leg, he pulled up the cover from his eyes. I handed him the cloth and pointed to my right cheek. Silently, he took the cloth and wiped his cheek.
I've yet to ask him about those wounds and the blood on his face. All I knew was that there was no scar.* * *It's white. Snow is falling and mother just called for me to go inside. I run to her but I drop the scarf she had knitted for me. I stop and turn around. A man appeared, the scarf in his hands. I come closer with the notion that Grigori was playing games again but this man was different. As I was close enough, he draped the scarf over my shoulders. He kneeled to adjust the scarf length and smiled when he finished.
He said to me,"how old are you now Maori?"
I held out eight fingers. "I'm going to be that many soon. Mother told me so."
"That's good," he stood and turned around. I clung onto the braid that lay upon his back. I took it in my hands, he turned with a laugh. I let go and stepped backwards.
"How come you're like me?" I said, pointing to my eyes, "She said they remind her so much of him. She wants him to come back you know?"
"Who's that?"
"Dad."
"Where is he?"
I looked to the ground, then towards him. The same golden eyes as mine, looking at me with kindness.
"Somewhere."
Back-to-School Report
6:06 PM
Hmm...try adding a high school in renovation AND an anti-social clingy idiot (pretty much for today I was). Well that only spells out disaster and panic...lots and LOTS of panic. It sounds a bit extreme but in a nutshell that's what happened to me today. I had no idea where my classes were and I barely knew anyone in my classes so it was pretty awkward for the first few periods but I kind of loosened up around the afternoon. Though note, I said kind of.
Around lunch time I was off to turn in a class change form to the office and I couldn't move my legs but once it was turned in I was relieved that I began to cry (and I made quite a scene) at the wrong time b/c someone I knew was coming. ( I guess you can say that it was that kind of someone, hope someone gets my drift) But yeah, my day was awkward as heck and I'm tired from everything...especially the panicking and clinging around some people (I have to make it up to them somehow! D-: )
...*goes off to panic some more*
:-) Ah well, maybe someone else had a better day than me. First days have always been tiring for me (this one especially) because you have to get used to everything and with the classrooms arranged the way they are I have to find new routes since the campus is pretty big. Now with the whole east side torn down (the school is being rebuilt and won't finish till 2010) people are more clustered and grouped around lunch and is a hassle to get around (then theres me who's panicking in some corner in the distance...eh...I was joking that time).
I found something ironic today. In 2nd period we're supposed to blog about our day...I didn't get to ask or tell the teacher that I've been blogging since summer...but I was wondering whether I should just cut and paste some of my entries here and send it to myself via email and I turn that in as the assignment. I was considering that since my good ideas don't really tap in during the morning hours and there's barely anything to talk about that early in the morning except about what happened in the past and that can get really boring and emotionally stressful for me... but that doesn't mean that I'll consider this idea. It'll definitely save me some time and I won't have to worry about the eye over the shoulder kind of thing. I'm really really self-conscious about these kind of things. If you're wondering it's a Computer Graphics class; that's how I/we have access to the internet. Plus, I like to blog with music anyways.
Though I do like the smell of new textbook or any kind of book for that matter. (random moment)
Around lunch time I was off to turn in a class change form to the office and I couldn't move my legs but once it was turned in I was relieved that I began to cry (and I made quite a scene) at the wrong time b/c someone I knew was coming. ( I guess you can say that it was that kind of someone, hope someone gets my drift) But yeah, my day was awkward as heck and I'm tired from everything...especially the panicking and clinging around some people (I have to make it up to them somehow! D-: )
...*goes off to panic some more*
:-) Ah well, maybe someone else had a better day than me. First days have always been tiring for me (this one especially) because you have to get used to everything and with the classrooms arranged the way they are I have to find new routes since the campus is pretty big. Now with the whole east side torn down (the school is being rebuilt and won't finish till 2010) people are more clustered and grouped around lunch and is a hassle to get around (then theres me who's panicking in some corner in the distance...eh...I was joking that time).
I found something ironic today. In 2nd period we're supposed to blog about our day...I didn't get to ask or tell the teacher that I've been blogging since summer...but I was wondering whether I should just cut and paste some of my entries here and send it to myself via email and I turn that in as the assignment. I was considering that since my good ideas don't really tap in during the morning hours and there's barely anything to talk about that early in the morning except about what happened in the past and that can get really boring and emotionally stressful for me... but that doesn't mean that I'll consider this idea. It'll definitely save me some time and I won't have to worry about the eye over the shoulder kind of thing. I'm really really self-conscious about these kind of things. If you're wondering it's a Computer Graphics class; that's how I/we have access to the internet. Plus, I like to blog with music anyways.
Though I do like the smell of new textbook or any kind of book for that matter. (random moment)