It was a beautiful bright Sunday morning as I got out my bed little by little, to the sound of the small birds singing out by my balcony. It was the last day of the weekend and I just couldn't waste my time. So, what was not wasting any second of my time? Immediately, I thought to myself, using my laptop. I sat down at the chair positioned in front of my desk and pressed the power button of this extraordinary machine with the tip of my fingers and gave out a yawn. I started thinking about what I was going to search up on the internet today; I've already watched the latest America's Next Top Model's episode and I kind of felt like playing a game. So then and there, the idea hit me: the scary maze game. I've heard all about it but I never had a chance to try it. I clicked the google chrome icon on my desktop and typed in the search box rapidly 'scary maze game'. Next thing i realize, as my mind was still running slow from the early morning, my eyes were fixed at the black screen with my hands controlling the mouse with care. My concentration was astounding as my mouse was sweeping through the electronic maze and I finally was able to reach the last level. My hands were sweating as I slowly cruised through the thin route which would bring me to the end of the game. Millimeters away, I could feel the anticipation growing on my fingertips and suddenly the most horrifying image flashed across my face as I sprung to the corner of my bed trying to hide from the image of this disgusting creature. The image was still burning in my head. This wasn't very funny, I thought. This creature had a faint ressemblance to a young girl. Her develish eyes were a piercing green color with an expression of hunger to kill. Her long brown hair was tangled like the roots of a dead tree which covered parts of her horrible face. Despite the coverage, I saw her deep wounds still fresh with blood melting as if she just got devoured by a demon himself. As i opened my eyes, trying to escape from my bed, I noticed blood stains on the floor and the screen of computer broken into glass. What was happening? I thought, frightened to death. And there, at my door, this dark figure appeared...she was here.
I know this is a very bad story. I'm really bad at descriptive/narrative.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Loving you always has been
"Loving you
always has been." - Jane 1959
Some stories are sad, while some are just unbearable tragedies. The story which happened to Peter and Jane Smith is what often called miracle-in-tragedy type of story. Born 1939, Peter was the second child in a moderate family. He has a 1-year-older sister named Jane. Their father was a hard-worker, who did the best he possibly could to save his family from hunger and poverty, back in the days. Therefore, the children of the Smiths seemed to have what every child deserves: happiness, love and care. Although everything went exactly like a happy-ending kind of story, the darkest tragedy has not revealed itself yet. Summer 1940, the WWII occurred- a lot of people died. Like the rest of
…
It has been already 15 years since the siblings got separated. Peter has now grown up to be a young handsome man with an auburn curly hair and beautiful blue eyes, just like his father. As always seen drawing everything he sees in his small notebook, Peter has a passionate desire towards arts. Despite his strong will to draw, Peter never shows his creations to anyone and has blocked himself to the outside world. Due to unstable situation, Peter can only know her older sister through various letters, which he has been addicted to. Peter remembers clearly the first time he red Jane’s letter, he was crying like a baby and could not believe in his own eyes. Jane has been his motivation, his encouragement and his everything, thought they only know each other through writings. Peter feels something he has never known before, the family bond, the love between family members. Sometimes, the young boy wonders what life could have been if he had parents or if he lived with his sister. But to say it truthfully, Peter thinks he is somehow happy with what he has at the moment: loving and being loved.
…
For 3 years, the two youngsters have sent as many letters as they possibly could, has talked as much as they were able to. Peter feels the strong connection between him and his older sister getting stronger and stronger day by day until one day. It was an ordinary day for Peter, working on the fields and drawing floating clouds-his favorite.
- Pete, you got mail hereeee! _One of the friends of Peter shouts loudly, as he runs down the hill_ How come you always get mails while I don’t Pete? That’s not fair, isn’t it?
- That is, because you always are lazy, Tom. Come on give me that already!
Suddenly, Peter grabs the white bigger-than-usual envelope from Tom and with a quick hand he opens it. The reason why it is bigger and heavier than normal is that inside there is something else. Peter pulls the long and wooden stick-thing out and soon, he realizes it is a paintbrush, a beautiful paintbrush he has always dreamt of.
- You get gifts too. See? _ Tom sighs sadly and sits down heavily on a big rock.
As soon as Peter finishes reading the letter, Tom realizes there is something definitely wrong with him. Peter’s face turns pale and his hands are shaking. He stares at the letter for seconds before starts reading it again several times. Then, Peter runs continuously towards the orphanage, up to his room. Sitting with his back against the wall, the young man whose tears are bursting out down his cheeks, drops the wooden paintbrush with beautifully carved words on its body “Loving you, always has been” rolling on the floor. The letter lies there, next to him, part of it was:
“Dear Peter
My name is Sister Maria of the Sunflower Orphanage. I am sorry to tell you that your sister is in very serious condition. She has…”
…
Struggling with his own emotions and thinking, Peter can not control his temper when shouting at the shopkeeper, who was just trying to sell him some goods. Part of him is filled with anger while the rest is mixed of worries, missing and somehow desperation. For a while, he has been sleepless. Most of the time, Peter just focuses on how to get to his beloved Jane as soon as possible. After walking out of the crowd of the market, Peter continues to follow the road to the dock, where he will go by merchant ships to the South East.
…
It has been 2 days since the last time Peter walks on the land. He has managed to adapt quite well to sea traveling although there are still some difficulties regarding sea sick. Peter feels like he was going the wrong way because the time is getting less while he has not seen any land. Worries almost killed the poor boy. “Oh my Lord, please protect her, please never take her from my life please!”_ Peter looking at the dark stormy sky with one hand holding the paintbrush inside his pocket.
- Everybody gets off the deck immediately. Please go downstairs for your own safety!
Suddenly, the wind is blowing strongly while the rain is also getting heavier and heavier. The sea seems to be a little bit too fierce for the small ship. The storm finally has come. This is an unfair battle of nature and human, the ocean waves almost eat the whole ship on which Peter is going. This is the first time Peter has to deal with such a hard challenge like this; he is shaking with freezing breezes blowing against his already wet clothes. What is amazing is that the only Peter thinking of right now is about his sister. “Is she alright? Will I make it on time? Oh God, I have to be able to get over this!”
…
The last time Peter checked, the paintbrush has not been in his pocket anymore. Peter not only feels like he has lost the most important thing in the world but also blames himself non-stop for such a foolish mistake. Luckily, the ship made it to the harbor at the city in which Jane is. With all the energy he has left, he would not be able to make a single step off the board of the ship, let alone running continuously, which he is doing now. Peter runs and runs the fastest he can, his teardrops falls all over the road. All Peter can think of right now, is about Jane, his last important person in the world. But God is not on Peter’s side this time:
- Sorry, Peter. She has already gone…
His ears hear nothing. His eyes see only the untrue. His hands are useless. His mind goes numb. Peter feels like the world has closed down on him. Then, pain and sorrow takes over any left of his feelings.
…
It has been a while but Peter now can walk on his own. Still that pain, that sorrows but at least now he can act like he could bear it. Walking across the sunflowers in the backyard of the orphanage, Peter wishes as this was just a dream he could wake up from. Peter puts some yellow daisies on the gravestone, as those were Jane’s favorite. And strangely, right at where he put the beautiful daisies, Peter found something he would least expected: Jane’s last gift. Peter stands there for a moment holding the paintbrush tightly in his hand. Finally, he looks up the clouds, grinds a smile and walks away. On the paintbrush, it says:
"Loving you
always has been
always will be."
"A fatal car crash" (I hope this works better than the first one)
It was almost midnight. That night was the most chilly throughout December and from a distance, the horizon had been harshly tore apart. Suddenly, the lightening struck the tree causing a dazzling stream of light reflected upon a tiny glass window. Lily was waken up by the noise, slowly and wearily rising from her bed, leaning against the window, she observed the sky in silence.
Lily was turning four in about a month, a pretty girl with round glistening eyes which evoked innocence and intelligence. However, her eyes also portrayed a great sadness resulted from her background obsession. Lily was born when her mother reached the age of fifty. She passed away after a stroke during labour without having a chance to look at her daughter’s angelic face. Because of the great disappointment and mid-life crisis, Lily’s father turned into an alcoholic, the little amounts of money he earned were meaninglessly thrown into gambling and wines. The existence of Lily had never been highly valued by her father, hence, she always felt insecure about herself. She rarely talked to anyone therefore, Lily was very lonesome.
… Another massive lightening scattered in the inky sky, “BANGGGG”, the loud noise terrified Lily. She began to retreat in fear and shivered, pulling the blanket out to wrap herself up. From moment to moment, the wind blew more strongly, taking the last few flaccid red leafs away into a whirl. Lily suddenly detected a beam of dazzling light and popped her head out to wait for something to emerge. At the skyline, there was a brightly glowing figure, getting closer and closer to her at the speed of light, ‘it’ seemed to smash into the window, nonetheless, penetrating surprisingly without falling apart.
Surprisingly enough, only a black hat was being suspended in the thin air. Lily stared at the hat for a while and curiously whispered:
“Hey you! Are you a magician in the fairy tales?”
One second later, a deep and manly voice responded:
“Hello little girl, I’m your friend now… I’m Jack! You’re Lily, aren’t you?”
Lily became more and more excited since she thought a character in her favourite stories not only visited her in person but also knew her by real name. They talked to each other friendly and wholeheartedly like they had been knowing each other for a long time. The invisible man continuously questioned about her feelings, hobbies and dreams.
Honestly sharing her real thoughts about the world out there, she spoke in a cute and high-pitched voice:
“If only my mommy was still alive, I’d be taken to the park every weekend just like my neighbours.” She gently smiled. “And Jack, do you know that I always have the same dream every other day? In that dream, I am wearing a beautiful white dress with two little angel wings, hovering on the grasscover in the cool autumn afternoon. Several feeble sunbeams chased after me as gorgeously as hundreds of rainbows. Don’t you think I am the most charming girl in the world?” said Lily observing the movement of Jack’s hat.
“Yeah sure, you are always my the prettiest friend, little girl, no matter what you wear!” – Jack gently patted on Lily’s head.
For the first time in her life, Lily felt proud of herself. Somebody recognised her beauty. The next minute, she frowned and seemed to be thoughtful:
“Hey Jack, why doesn’t my dad love me? I didn’t do anything to make him feel sad really. Does your dad love you then?” – her round eyes were so bright and watery in the dimmed light.
The invisible man read her mind and he avoided to answer this question, it only made the girl become more emotional but not helpful. Jack changed the topic to why she did not want to make friends with other same age people. Lily was hesitating but she told him that she did not have what the neighbours had so they would not allow her to join their group and play together. There was a great discrimination going on. She also wished that she could be accepted by her friends so that she would tell them many interesting stories in her imagination. Lily closed her eyes and grinned brightly every time she thought about it.
Both of them talked passionately and this was the longest conversation Lily ever had with anyone, she was not afraid to tell what she really thought about. She trusted the invisible man just because he looked like one of her beloved fairytale characters. The talk was interrupted when the church bell rang. The man slowly vanished in the air while Lily waved at him helplessly.
******
The next evening, the invisible man returned at midnight, Lily was still awake, hopefully waiting for him. She ran towards his direction and be carried on his back. Her laughter broke the peaceful night silence. There was no word to describe her happiness at that time, she admired Jack as her second father.
Tonight, Jack promised to take Lily to a place with full of nice friends and toys. However, she had to wear a blindfold to keep the secret until the last moment. Lily nodded her head quickly with a content smile showing satisfaction on her lips.
After the black cloth was tightly tied, Jack led Lily out of the door step by step. On the way, he whistled a Disney melody and she sang along. The cool air pervaded atmosphere blended with a sweet aroma of roses by the pavements. The moon was full glisteningly shining above, the shadows of a girl and a hat next to her were seen vividly on the empty street.
Suddenly, somewhere from the back a grey old car was accelerating into the direction of Lily and Jack. It sounded the horn at them as the driver seemed to lose control over his speed. Jack turned round and swiftly pushed Lily to the pavement but unfortunately, he eventually got hit right in the stomach since the driver could not see him at all. He screamed in pain “I’m sorry Lily! I can’t take you to the placeeeeee…”. His voice faded away as Lily terribly untied the blindfold to see what happened. She was deadly shocked to see the bleeding hat lying on the ground, looking up into the car, it was her dad being drunk, his face was red and the eyes were extremely glassy. He seemed not to be aware of what he had just done. Restarting the engine unconsciously, her dad continued to drive but this time, he changed the direction and ran into Lily who was wailing on the pavement. “BANGGGGGGGGGG” a loud noise which put an end to Lily’s life. Without having enough time to feel the pain, she had gone in peace.
Lily was turning four in about a month, a pretty girl with round glistening eyes which evoked innocence and intelligence. However, her eyes also portrayed a great sadness resulted from her background obsession. Lily was born when her mother reached the age of fifty. She passed away after a stroke during labour without having a chance to look at her daughter’s angelic face. Because of the great disappointment and mid-life crisis, Lily’s father turned into an alcoholic, the little amounts of money he earned were meaninglessly thrown into gambling and wines. The existence of Lily had never been highly valued by her father, hence, she always felt insecure about herself. She rarely talked to anyone therefore, Lily was very lonesome.
… Another massive lightening scattered in the inky sky, “BANGGGG”, the loud noise terrified Lily. She began to retreat in fear and shivered, pulling the blanket out to wrap herself up. From moment to moment, the wind blew more strongly, taking the last few flaccid red leafs away into a whirl. Lily suddenly detected a beam of dazzling light and popped her head out to wait for something to emerge. At the skyline, there was a brightly glowing figure, getting closer and closer to her at the speed of light, ‘it’ seemed to smash into the window, nonetheless, penetrating surprisingly without falling apart.
Surprisingly enough, only a black hat was being suspended in the thin air. Lily stared at the hat for a while and curiously whispered:
“Hey you! Are you a magician in the fairy tales?”
One second later, a deep and manly voice responded:
“Hello little girl, I’m your friend now… I’m Jack! You’re Lily, aren’t you?”
Lily became more and more excited since she thought a character in her favourite stories not only visited her in person but also knew her by real name. They talked to each other friendly and wholeheartedly like they had been knowing each other for a long time. The invisible man continuously questioned about her feelings, hobbies and dreams.
Honestly sharing her real thoughts about the world out there, she spoke in a cute and high-pitched voice:
“If only my mommy was still alive, I’d be taken to the park every weekend just like my neighbours.” She gently smiled. “And Jack, do you know that I always have the same dream every other day? In that dream, I am wearing a beautiful white dress with two little angel wings, hovering on the grasscover in the cool autumn afternoon. Several feeble sunbeams chased after me as gorgeously as hundreds of rainbows. Don’t you think I am the most charming girl in the world?” said Lily observing the movement of Jack’s hat.
“Yeah sure, you are always my the prettiest friend, little girl, no matter what you wear!” – Jack gently patted on Lily’s head.
For the first time in her life, Lily felt proud of herself. Somebody recognised her beauty. The next minute, she frowned and seemed to be thoughtful:
“Hey Jack, why doesn’t my dad love me? I didn’t do anything to make him feel sad really. Does your dad love you then?” – her round eyes were so bright and watery in the dimmed light.
The invisible man read her mind and he avoided to answer this question, it only made the girl become more emotional but not helpful. Jack changed the topic to why she did not want to make friends with other same age people. Lily was hesitating but she told him that she did not have what the neighbours had so they would not allow her to join their group and play together. There was a great discrimination going on. She also wished that she could be accepted by her friends so that she would tell them many interesting stories in her imagination. Lily closed her eyes and grinned brightly every time she thought about it.
Both of them talked passionately and this was the longest conversation Lily ever had with anyone, she was not afraid to tell what she really thought about. She trusted the invisible man just because he looked like one of her beloved fairytale characters. The talk was interrupted when the church bell rang. The man slowly vanished in the air while Lily waved at him helplessly.
******
The next evening, the invisible man returned at midnight, Lily was still awake, hopefully waiting for him. She ran towards his direction and be carried on his back. Her laughter broke the peaceful night silence. There was no word to describe her happiness at that time, she admired Jack as her second father.
Tonight, Jack promised to take Lily to a place with full of nice friends and toys. However, she had to wear a blindfold to keep the secret until the last moment. Lily nodded her head quickly with a content smile showing satisfaction on her lips.
After the black cloth was tightly tied, Jack led Lily out of the door step by step. On the way, he whistled a Disney melody and she sang along. The cool air pervaded atmosphere blended with a sweet aroma of roses by the pavements. The moon was full glisteningly shining above, the shadows of a girl and a hat next to her were seen vividly on the empty street.
Suddenly, somewhere from the back a grey old car was accelerating into the direction of Lily and Jack. It sounded the horn at them as the driver seemed to lose control over his speed. Jack turned round and swiftly pushed Lily to the pavement but unfortunately, he eventually got hit right in the stomach since the driver could not see him at all. He screamed in pain “I’m sorry Lily! I can’t take you to the placeeeeee…”. His voice faded away as Lily terribly untied the blindfold to see what happened. She was deadly shocked to see the bleeding hat lying on the ground, looking up into the car, it was her dad being drunk, his face was red and the eyes were extremely glassy. He seemed not to be aware of what he had just done. Restarting the engine unconsciously, her dad continued to drive but this time, he changed the direction and ran into Lily who was wailing on the pavement. “BANGGGGGGGGGG” a loud noise which put an end to Lily’s life. Without having enough time to feel the pain, she had gone in peace.
The lady raised her arm and instructed us to the left to put on our vests. They felt heavy on my shoulders and i remember them being dirty and sweaty from the previous group. Nevertheless, gun in hand, i was ready to go.
We scurried inside the now dark arena and i quickly navigated my way as quickly as i could deep into the labyrinth of walls and barriers and away from the competition. I knelt down and waited for the alarm that would signal the start.
Sure enough, it rung through the darkness not long after. Game on.
For the first few moments it seemed that everyone had yet to find my hiding place. So far it was just my muffled footsteps that could be heard as i tried tip toed to a raised platform in an attempt to gain a better view. I climbed up to the top where i sat down waiting for someone to discover me. Though my hands were slightly trembling, my fingers maintained a tight grip on the gun, ready to fire at any moment should someone find me.
I don't exactly know how it happened but my vest which had, just a second earlier, been brightly lit with coloured lights had gone dark, taking with it the glow that had been surrounding me. I was suddenly engulfed in darkness. It took a second until i realised that this would've meant someone had shot me. I felt myself freeze. Sure enough as i slowly turned by head to my left, a colossal, stationary silhouette began to creep into the corner of my vision. It stared down at me, the gun clutched in it's tennis rackets for hands pointed straight at my face. Instinctively, i screamed and got up as quickly as i could and ran away from it. But straight away it reached out it's tail in a single swift motion and i plummeted straight to the ground. It was only in the panic that i realised i couldnt hear any of my friends, not even muffled footsteps or echoes of the lazers. I was alone.
egh i hope that made sense i dont even know what the plot was and i found it kind of hard to inject any magical realism....
as you can probably tell i ran out of time
Janice's awesome blog.
Sun glasses? Check. Sun lotion? Check. Camera? Check. I stuffed everything into my satchel and hurried off to breakfast. Today’s going to be awesome, I thought as I stumbled upon a piece of black fabric at the bottom of the stairs almost knocking off the 10 inch statue of cupid. Close.
Midway through the corridor, the angel statue at the corner of one room floated towards me.
“Hey.” I greeted it warmly with calm etiquette and a massive smile.
“Don’t go,” it whispered.
An angel asking me not to go to the beach? Is it warning me about some huge event that might take place later in the day that I may regret ever going? Should I listen?
“Nice try.” I mumbled shrugging the angel aside and darting towards the dining room, barely colliding with the razor-edged spear pointed towards my head at the sharp corner.
I shouldn’t have eaten 2 packs of haribo sweets and drank a gallon of fizzy soda the night before as I could’ve sworn there was a chill in the air and a sound of an evil chuckle at all edges of the room. I’m going nuts.
I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since arriving in Phuket. Father received an invite from his boss to stay at his home just a few months ago and we accepted immediately. I wouldn’t call it a home, more like a stunning private mansion with vintage style furniture, walls that seem to test the sky’s limit and a pool at the side of the house overlooking the Indian Ocean. Nothing’s going to ruin my day, just hours of sun, sand and occasional flashes of the lifeguard’s abs. What’s the worst that can happen?
“We’re not going to the beach.” Great.
“Why not?” I pouted and folded my arms to extreme exaggeration, hopefully persuading mother to see the error in her statement (I was 9).
“Your father’s friend has invited us to his yacht today. Now go eat your breakfast.”
Suddenly the windows started to quiver, then the furniture started to tremble. A vulture soared into the room from the open door and landed on my left shoulder.
“Go to the beach, go to the beach.” It screeched.
“Go away,” I breathed, “Mother can hear you.”
As quickly as the minor earthquake entered, it disappeared. So did the vulture and the bad luck I’ve been having all morning.
After hours on the yacht and a few barbecue sticks later, we arrived at the haven sun burnt and satisfied, only to be greeted by father’s boss.
“Good thing you didn’t go the beach.”
“What’s wrong?”
“You would not believe.”
Date: December 26th 2004.
Event: Boxing Day Tsunami.
Earthquake felt during breakfast: 2004 Indian Ocean earthquake.
Midway through the corridor, the angel statue at the corner of one room floated towards me.
“Hey.” I greeted it warmly with calm etiquette and a massive smile.
“Don’t go,” it whispered.
An angel asking me not to go to the beach? Is it warning me about some huge event that might take place later in the day that I may regret ever going? Should I listen?
“Nice try.” I mumbled shrugging the angel aside and darting towards the dining room, barely colliding with the razor-edged spear pointed towards my head at the sharp corner.
I shouldn’t have eaten 2 packs of haribo sweets and drank a gallon of fizzy soda the night before as I could’ve sworn there was a chill in the air and a sound of an evil chuckle at all edges of the room. I’m going nuts.
I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since arriving in Phuket. Father received an invite from his boss to stay at his home just a few months ago and we accepted immediately. I wouldn’t call it a home, more like a stunning private mansion with vintage style furniture, walls that seem to test the sky’s limit and a pool at the side of the house overlooking the Indian Ocean. Nothing’s going to ruin my day, just hours of sun, sand and occasional flashes of the lifeguard’s abs. What’s the worst that can happen?
“We’re not going to the beach.” Great.
“Why not?” I pouted and folded my arms to extreme exaggeration, hopefully persuading mother to see the error in her statement (I was 9).
“Your father’s friend has invited us to his yacht today. Now go eat your breakfast.”
Suddenly the windows started to quiver, then the furniture started to tremble. A vulture soared into the room from the open door and landed on my left shoulder.
“Go to the beach, go to the beach.” It screeched.
“Go away,” I breathed, “Mother can hear you.”
As quickly as the minor earthquake entered, it disappeared. So did the vulture and the bad luck I’ve been having all morning.
After hours on the yacht and a few barbecue sticks later, we arrived at the haven sun burnt and satisfied, only to be greeted by father’s boss.
“Good thing you didn’t go the beach.”
“What’s wrong?”
“You would not believe.”
Date: December 26th 2004.
Event: Boxing Day Tsunami.
Earthquake felt during breakfast: 2004 Indian Ocean earthquake.
Sting
A swarm of clouds brewed over the calming sea as we rushed towards the sand, unaware of the sun's plague. 'Sanctuary-at last' we had thought. Storming through the aisles of the resort, we hastily packed away the shambles of what was to be our luggage-eagerly anticipating our embrace with the beach.
The waves continued to call out to us, "Come hither". The sound of the sea beckoned.
And so we waded, all four of us, as we sought solely the ecstasy of the ocean. The clouds continued to rumble forwards-"Follow us" they had hissed. The spray of the sea seemed to fuse together with the rhythm of our blood, pulsing as we pulsed.
Chest-deep in the salty water, a messenger had bravely interrupted our passage forward. A lowly minnow, sent from the depths of the ocean had approached. "Do not proceed any further!" he had warned, as he puffed his chest to the sky.
The clouds glared down, disapproving.
So we had pushed him away, as the urge of the waves had become overpowering. The minnow could be heard in the distance, his shrill voice desperately calling. Though we moved onwards-the temptation growing stronger.
And so the miles of the sea passed away, yet the feeling of achieving our goal had diminished- the darkening atmosphere licking at our heels, as the consequences of our journey had appeared to us.
The ominous hum of the tyrannous jellyfish had approached. Balls of lightning could be seen shooting off its mighty back. "You had not listened to the warning," the monster had wrapped its colossal tentacles around us as we thrashed about, helplessly giving up our limbs.
The minnow was seen as a shadow in the distance as the clouds laughed uproariously, and the shock of a thousand bolts pierced through our skin.
.
.
If you hadn't figured out by now, this story was about my jellyfish sting in Mui Ne a few weeks ago. Except, it wasn't this...dramatic. It did hurt a lot, though.
You're not alone.
The tears dried up on the edges of her lids made it more difficult for her to open her eyes. A slight scream slipped out of her mouths, she quickly put her robes on, tied her hair back and sprints downstairs to the kitchen. Like usual, she made French omelettes with cherry tomatoes and cinnamon baked hash brown, it was her Liam and Izzie's favourite Sunday breakfast, and like usual, she ran out to the backyard.
"Enough swimming, it's brunch time! I made your favourite Sunday breakfast!" she shouted as she opened the glass door to the backyard, only then, to find her green grass brown, wilted and uneven, her white orchids torn and scattered on the ground. Unlike every Sunday, her husband and her little angel was not in the pool, there was only the leaves floating on the surface of the water, which seemed more green than transparent.
Her mouth slipped the usual word "Oh."
It was then when she realised that it was noon, again, and her house was empty, again. It was the 6th day after her whole life caught on fire and burnt down. She had been struggling to believe she was now truly alone and the fire at ice-cream store that day took away her life long best friend and husband, her baby, angel and inspiration in her artwork, both at once.
Frustrated at herself, she threw the Sunday breakfast in the trash and hurried into her studio and got everything prepared for her to draw, but as she held up the brush, her hands shook and her head failed to think of ideas, she threw the brush to the corner of the room, ran out the couch and turn on the TV. The already inserted DVD with footage of her wedding, her honeymoon, her giving birth to Izzie, and their Christmas holidays, made the cold tears ran down her pale and skinny cheeks, which were results of her days in hell. She cried herself to sleep.
"Shush! Mommy's sleeping." Liam shouted at Izzie for throwing the crayon down the table, making a loud noise. He quickly to cover her with the blanket they bought together last summer in Mongolia.
"Daddy, why does mommy looks so sad?" Izzie questioned whilst wiping her mom's tears on the corner of her left eye.
"Baby, it's because she loves and misses us very much, she cannot see that we're still around her, she doesn't know that we will never abandon her no matter what happens. It's our turn to protect her as she has been the ones caring for us the most."
She forced open her eyes and sat up in a hurry, only to find everything was the way she left it, the TV was still on, the curtains still closed, the room still reeked of the smell of rotten food, the only difference was that the room was now dark, the only light source was from the large TV in front of her. She extended her arms over to the side table next to the couch to find the clock just when she found she touched something burning her fingers. As she looked over, she saw a mug of warm milk neatly placed on a piece of paper with the message:
"Drink this and sleep well Mrs. Kensley" written in purple crayons. She took a sip at the warm milk without thinking, and put her legs down the couch. As she felt a sudden rush of cold air across her feet, she looked down to find that green blanket from Mongolia that Liam was talking about in her subconscious dream, startled also at the mug she was holding. She took a long pause, then took another sip at her milk and went back to sleep, her face looked of relief and that was the first peaceful sleep she has had in days.
Her name was Alexandrina Kensley, she was an Art teacher at an elementary school, which her daughter also attends, purple was Izzie Kensley's favourite colour because it is also Alex's favourite colour and a mug of warm milk was what Liam Kensley made in replacement of an apology.
**This story is a little cliche, I know :(
"Enough swimming, it's brunch time! I made your favourite Sunday breakfast!" she shouted as she opened the glass door to the backyard, only then, to find her green grass brown, wilted and uneven, her white orchids torn and scattered on the ground. Unlike every Sunday, her husband and her little angel was not in the pool, there was only the leaves floating on the surface of the water, which seemed more green than transparent.
Her mouth slipped the usual word "Oh."
It was then when she realised that it was noon, again, and her house was empty, again. It was the 6th day after her whole life caught on fire and burnt down. She had been struggling to believe she was now truly alone and the fire at ice-cream store that day took away her life long best friend and husband, her baby, angel and inspiration in her artwork, both at once.
Frustrated at herself, she threw the Sunday breakfast in the trash and hurried into her studio and got everything prepared for her to draw, but as she held up the brush, her hands shook and her head failed to think of ideas, she threw the brush to the corner of the room, ran out the couch and turn on the TV. The already inserted DVD with footage of her wedding, her honeymoon, her giving birth to Izzie, and their Christmas holidays, made the cold tears ran down her pale and skinny cheeks, which were results of her days in hell. She cried herself to sleep.
"Shush! Mommy's sleeping." Liam shouted at Izzie for throwing the crayon down the table, making a loud noise. He quickly to cover her with the blanket they bought together last summer in Mongolia.
"Daddy, why does mommy looks so sad?" Izzie questioned whilst wiping her mom's tears on the corner of her left eye.
"Baby, it's because she loves and misses us very much, she cannot see that we're still around her, she doesn't know that we will never abandon her no matter what happens. It's our turn to protect her as she has been the ones caring for us the most."
She forced open her eyes and sat up in a hurry, only to find everything was the way she left it, the TV was still on, the curtains still closed, the room still reeked of the smell of rotten food, the only difference was that the room was now dark, the only light source was from the large TV in front of her. She extended her arms over to the side table next to the couch to find the clock just when she found she touched something burning her fingers. As she looked over, she saw a mug of warm milk neatly placed on a piece of paper with the message:
"Drink this and sleep well Mrs. Kensley" written in purple crayons. She took a sip at the warm milk without thinking, and put her legs down the couch. As she felt a sudden rush of cold air across her feet, she looked down to find that green blanket from Mongolia that Liam was talking about in her subconscious dream, startled also at the mug she was holding. She took a long pause, then took another sip at her milk and went back to sleep, her face looked of relief and that was the first peaceful sleep she has had in days.
Her name was Alexandrina Kensley, she was an Art teacher at an elementary school, which her daughter also attends, purple was Izzie Kensley's favourite colour because it is also Alex's favourite colour and a mug of warm milk was what Liam Kensley made in replacement of an apology.
**This story is a little cliche, I know :(
untitled .
He entered cautiously. Slowly, hesitantly, but still with surety and precision. His footsteps echoed ever so slightly throughout the building; for a heartstopping moment he stopped for an infinitesimal moment, but with a shake of his head carried on.
The breaking in had been easy. A single shard of mirror plus a bobby pin, both hers, was all it took. He almost cracked up every time someone mentioned the words 'bobby pin' to him; what kind of person had this Bobby been, just a man with unusually long hair or something more?
Concentrate, he told himself, and with that the man resumed tiptoeing into the dimly lit hallway. No one would be looking for him here; his base was covered. His very phoenix was the one at the doors, his phoenix who had yet to fail in serving him thus far. The irony of him tiptoeing down this oh-so-familiar hallway struck him as unbearably funny. The man once again resisted the urge and calmed himself down.
He chose his weapon tonight without much hesitation; a meat cleaver, right from his mother's kitchen drawers. Simple and sweet. The thought of something so holy, something straight from his mother's kitchen running through her disgraceful body sent shivers right down to his toes. That was when he knew he had to finish this tonight, once and for all.
The man quickened his pace - still cautious, precise, but with a touch less surety. He forgot to count the doors on his left, which meant that he had to go back down the corridor and count again. One, two, three. One, two, three. He completely forgot to return his cleaver to its hiding place, involuntarily flashing blinding gleams of light to clueless passersby. The thud of his heartbeat drummed in his ears.
Turn left on corner. Straight down hallway. Nearly there. He noticed the guard wasn't at his usual place. Perhaps enjoying an intimate evening with his lover? The man sniggered, No chance. He knew for a fact that the guard would never ever leave his place. Ever. That seemed a bit odd.
The thunder ceased gradually as he reached the familiar green door. He could clearly see his fingerprints on the still sticky looking surface of the wood and the faded burn mark right next to it. He had made the mark with his wand exactly eleven years from today. Eleven years. He could see the faint white light spilling out from the room. Mama always told you to be discreet, Sally. I'm coming for you.
The... something by Liza
Mr. Pollicutt, I really tried to make it as understandable us I can...
xx.xx.1990
"Darkness.
What do you see in the darkness? What are you afraid of?"
"Every single night, if you open your eyes you can see how all the nightmares are crawling in the corners. You can see how they are awaiting for you to come, and how they call you in order to dry your soul out... They are always close to you: fears of your childhood and phobias, betrayals and memories. Every single night."
"Then I shall... show you."
"Pain..."
It hurts, when every day, every evening you close your eyes, so that a ray of the falling sun doesn't pass through your eyelids.
It hurts, when every day you shiver from thousands of needles of the sunset as they pierce your skin.
Hurts, when they tear you apart. Hurts, when they go into your heart.
It hurts to scream, scratching your throat, and not to turn around, never turn around. Torturing.
And in the greates moment of phoenix's flight, in the peak of sun's beauty, it hurts even more - it hurts when the bird cries, cries in the only exctasy, cries with happiness, cries from eternal pain, cries to the upcoming death - awaiting for it, for this instand decline - awaiting for the second when it explodes with red and orange and crimson... it hurts.
"If you open your eyes, you will die"
One more second, and you can't stand this pain anymore; and all the thoughts are dancing, dancing in the insanity; and you can't keep your eyes closed, you can only turn around - put all your strength into this one movement! - and meet this bird; and from then you will only be a firefly flying towards the flames, and all your life will be condensed to love towards the fire and its love towards you; and it seems like if you fly a bit closer, if you stretch your arms a bit further you'll become a one unique creature together with the light, and you will die together, forever as one...
"Do you want us to show you the sun?"
"Can you?" - with a hope, with a smile...
"Of course, we can" - and they will start speaking in a soft and quiet voice.
It will be a long long story about the peach-coloured sun, rising to the skies every morning; about shy sunrays that fly into the friendly opened window and slide along the faces of the sleepers giving them good dreams; about someone who will wake up, scaring the sunbeam, and the sunbeam will then jump back on the wall from that someone's nose. The story will tell about the puddles sparkling in the sunlight, and about the playful rain who leaves these puddles, and about the happiness of living; it will tell about the rainbow shooting up from east to west and linking different people's thoughts together.
It will also be a story about a girl, who was never scared of darkness. About the sunrays dancing in her hair and glowing - just like a halo; about her smile. The starts will tell how every night she says farewell to them, and how she greets the sun by singing. She will link the day and the night, she will be the daybreak and the sunset herself.
The stars will tell, how the essence of the Moon and the essence of the Sun will show that girl the only right way, and how she will go through many obstacles to find her happiness. The stars will tell, how her eyes will shine with amber, and how the stardust will settle down on her lips. The stars will tell, how she won't make a mistake.
And you will listen to that story and you will smile, and you will see all that, and a happiness of that simple little dream will overflow your heart.
Until the moment, when the first petal of daybreak flame burns your skin.
Ñ…Ñ….Ñ…Ñ….1990 v.2
"Darkness.
What do you see in the darkness?"
Unclear memory... Pain; a human is afraid of pain; a human is afraid of darkness, but... What is that? Crimson red and silver in fromnt of the eyes...
"What are you afraid of?" - The voice is slightly sad.
"I'm afraid of... making another mistake."
Whose words are there? I'm afraid of darkness... am I?
"Good." - the speaker smiles.
"Then shall you be the daybreak, shall you be the sunset; live with the sun and die with the sun, following the melody of night."
And less weird too... But it turned out like that.
xx.xx.1990
"Darkness.
What do you see in the darkness? What are you afraid of?"
"Every single night, if you open your eyes you can see how all the nightmares are crawling in the corners. You can see how they are awaiting for you to come, and how they call you in order to dry your soul out... They are always close to you: fears of your childhood and phobias, betrayals and memories. Every single night."
"Then I shall... show you."
xx.xx.2009
"Pain..."
It hurts, when every day, every evening you close your eyes, so that a ray of the falling sun doesn't pass through your eyelids.
It hurts, when every day you shiver from thousands of needles of the sunset as they pierce your skin.
Hurts, when they tear you apart. Hurts, when they go into your heart.
It hurts to scream, scratching your throat, and not to turn around, never turn around. Torturing.
And in the greates moment of phoenix's flight, in the peak of sun's beauty, it hurts even more - it hurts when the bird cries, cries in the only exctasy, cries with happiness, cries from eternal pain, cries to the upcoming death - awaiting for it, for this instand decline - awaiting for the second when it explodes with red and orange and crimson... it hurts.
"If you open your eyes, you will die"
One more second, and you can't stand this pain anymore; and all the thoughts are dancing, dancing in the insanity; and you can't keep your eyes closed, you can only turn around - put all your strength into this one movement! - and meet this bird; and from then you will only be a firefly flying towards the flames, and all your life will be condensed to love towards the fire and its love towards you; and it seems like if you fly a bit closer, if you stretch your arms a bit further you'll become a one unique creature together with the light, and you will die together, forever as one...
...
The night comes.
Blood on your hands, blood on your eyes.
As usual, you realise yourself lying on the floor, trembling from the unstoppable cry.
Still not used to realising you are alive.
The faraway stars are shining calmly, diffusing slowly through the mist-like tulle... the moon is singing. Glowing dust is covering the face, the hands, the clothes... like if a giant bird, consisting of billions of sunlight particles, has just fallen apart in this dark room; died and disappeared.
Calming...
Blind eyes can see everything here - they feel how the night sky is shimmering behind the window, they feel that the burning hell has died away. The darkness is caressing the skin; soft wind that flies into the opened window is gently playing with silver hair.
And you can laugh... people would think, you are insane - and they'd be right.
Laughter, like morning bells, illuminate the night and greet it; cry, as a requiem for the sun, by its elegant etude finishes the tragedy of sunset.
Stars are laughing together with a human, and they are whispering, whispering about the dreams that didn't come ture, about the fairytales.
The night comes.
Blood on your hands, blood on your eyes.
As usual, you realise yourself lying on the floor, trembling from the unstoppable cry.
Still not used to realising you are alive.
The faraway stars are shining calmly, diffusing slowly through the mist-like tulle... the moon is singing. Glowing dust is covering the face, the hands, the clothes... like if a giant bird, consisting of billions of sunlight particles, has just fallen apart in this dark room; died and disappeared.
Calming...
Blind eyes can see everything here - they feel how the night sky is shimmering behind the window, they feel that the burning hell has died away. The darkness is caressing the skin; soft wind that flies into the opened window is gently playing with silver hair.
And you can laugh... people would think, you are insane - and they'd be right.
Laughter, like morning bells, illuminate the night and greet it; cry, as a requiem for the sun, by its elegant etude finishes the tragedy of sunset.
Stars are laughing together with a human, and they are whispering, whispering about the dreams that didn't come ture, about the fairytales.
"Do you want us to show you the sun?"
"Can you?" - with a hope, with a smile...
"Of course, we can" - and they will start speaking in a soft and quiet voice.
It will be a long long story about the peach-coloured sun, rising to the skies every morning; about shy sunrays that fly into the friendly opened window and slide along the faces of the sleepers giving them good dreams; about someone who will wake up, scaring the sunbeam, and the sunbeam will then jump back on the wall from that someone's nose. The story will tell about the puddles sparkling in the sunlight, and about the playful rain who leaves these puddles, and about the happiness of living; it will tell about the rainbow shooting up from east to west and linking different people's thoughts together.
It will also be a story about a girl, who was never scared of darkness. About the sunrays dancing in her hair and glowing - just like a halo; about her smile. The starts will tell how every night she says farewell to them, and how she greets the sun by singing. She will link the day and the night, she will be the daybreak and the sunset herself.
The stars will tell, how the essence of the Moon and the essence of the Sun will show that girl the only right way, and how she will go through many obstacles to find her happiness. The stars will tell, how her eyes will shine with amber, and how the stardust will settle down on her lips. The stars will tell, how she won't make a mistake.
And you will listen to that story and you will smile, and you will see all that, and a happiness of that simple little dream will overflow your heart.
Until the moment, when the first petal of daybreak flame burns your skin.
Ñ…Ñ….Ñ…Ñ….1990 v.2
"Darkness.
What do you see in the darkness?"
Unclear memory... Pain; a human is afraid of pain; a human is afraid of darkness, but... What is that? Crimson red and silver in fromnt of the eyes...
"What are you afraid of?" - The voice is slightly sad.
"I'm afraid of... making another mistake."
Whose words are there? I'm afraid of darkness... am I?
"Good." - the speaker smiles.
"Then shall you be the daybreak, shall you be the sunset; live with the sun and die with the sun, following the melody of night."
I'll name it later!
It was almost midnight . That night was the most chilly throughout December and from a distance, the horizon had been harshly tore apart. Suddenly, the lightening struck the tree causing a dazzling stream of light reflected upon a tiny glass window. Slowly and wearily rising from the rotten wooden floor, leaning towards the direction of the window, her hands fumbled for the knot but she missed.
Amber, an abandoned dumb sixteen-year-old girl, had been living an extremely miserable life since she was first delivered to this world. Mommy passed away without having a chance to look at her daughter’s angelic face. Because of the great poverty, disappointment and mid-life crisis, Daddy also refused her precious existence from the very start, Amber was locked up in the attic with a black blindfold covering her eyes. Life treated her capriciously in every way.
… Another massive lightening scattered in the inky sky, “BANGGGG”, the loud noise terrified Amber. She began to retreat in fear, huddling up in the corner of the room, her face in her hands. From moment to moment, the wind blew more strongly, taking the last few flaccid red leafs away into a whirl. Amber could not see what she was supposed to see… At the skyline, there was a brightly glowing figure, getting closer and closer to her at the speed of light, ‘it’ seemed to smash into the window, nonetheless, penetrating surprisingly without falling apart.
Perhaps, Amber’s eyes behind the cloth were sensitive to the halo, the first beam of light that she could ever detect, carefully standing up and groping her way forwards with the hope of reaching something in the dark. Unexpectedly, a deep and manly voice raised from somewhere near:
“Don’t be scared, girl! I am finally here… with you!”
Amber made a step backward with hesitation, she grabbed the pen and the paper, as fast as she could, jotting down a messy line saying: “Stay away from me! Please tell me who you are sir!”
The stranger attempted his best to comfort her by introducing himself as Amber’s hero, also, they were meant to be for each other. He had been patiently searching for her his whole life and now their destiny eventually brought them together.
Every word he said hypotised the poor girl in a magnificent way. After a few moments, she was tightly in his arms, resting her fragile head against his muscular chest, she felt his warm breaths every second. For the first time in her life, peace ever existed. She scribbled on the musty paper everything that she always imagined about the world beyond the black cloth.
“If only the blindfold was removed, I would be able to see an amazing world out there. I gotta have a happy family with daddy and mommy who wholeheartedly love and cosset their daughter like a treasurable pearl. In my dream, the abyss always emerges cool and fulfilled with many feeble sunbeams dancing around as gorgeously as hundreds of rainbows, it is peaceful with birds twittering on the tree branches. In that picture, I appear in a princess costume, as beautiful and sparkling as the early morning dew, innocently stepping on the grass cover. I am the most charming girl in the world!”
The more Amber wrote, the more tears shed on the her pale bony face. Sitting motionlessly and holding her more firmly, he dried the water drops and gently kissed her forehead. Staring at Amber’s skinny arms, a bunch of scars stood out in the dimmed light, dried drops of blood, black and blue everywhere resulting from the millions thrashings of her dad. The white ragged dress covering her body turned yellow blended with the dark- brown blood stains over time.
However, that night, feelings of safety and love struck Amber’s mind intensely, it fascinatingly dispelled her fear and sadness and indeed, she knew her life was destined for this man, who she could not picture his face in reality, but in her imaginary. The ‘reunion’ only lasted until 5 am when she no longer felt the warmth above her head, no responses after a sentence she jotted down, Amber could tell the man had gone.
The next evening, the man returned, Amber could feel his presence since he came into sight far away at the horizon. She stretched her hands out, reaching for his and they embraced passionately in silence. Amber had been waiting for him in fear as she was afraid if he never came back. That night, the man used up his strength to untie the cloth, blood dripping off like water streams however, he failed to do so. The blindfold did not move even a millimeter, it seemed to be made of tough material and weaved with the strongest glue that never fell apart by any chance. Amber melancholically scribbled:
“Thanks dear!… but this is my fate, I believe God doesn’t want me to see the world, he punished me for doing such bad things in my previous incarnation. Let it be the way it is supposed to be! I’m just …okay!”
Silence fulfilled the attic. Amber was emotionless and so was he!
The visit of this mysterious man occurred daily and it automatically became a habit of Amber. Since the day he came into her life, she felt so much better, he brought hopes and love which she had never received by anyone before. The only wish that Amber had was to one time see this man and tell him about her true feelings towards him. She nurtured her dream sincerely from deep of her heart although it was absolutely impossible to carry out.
Tonight was a special night, the man was eager to rescue her from this hellish place. He beforehand prepared several crucial props for the escape to be successful. A lot of tough ropes hanging down the window, he carefully opened the window, carrying Amber in one of his strong arms and stepped out. There were a lot of sharp branches blocking their way, the man continuously struck them off, preventing his lover from being hurt.
Unfortunately, on the ground, Amber’s dad had been hiding behind the giant lamp-post and observed the whole incident, he shouted out loud:
“ Amberrrrr… It was not a mistake to lock you up there. You’ve always been cursed… cursed by that hat… The black hat which is now carrying you down. Hahahahaha… But I’ll not give you a chance to live. It’s your time to meet your mother in HELL.”
Amber was totally freaked out by the voice of her father, she could not hear very clearly what he said because of the massive whirlwind. But every word coming out of his mouth always acted like a sharp knife plunging into her ear and her heart. Suddenly, the dad crazily ran around, holding an enormous torch in his hand, laughing like an old hag… the building was finally on fire. The tough rope melted down quickly, as the hot flame reached the man’s shoes, it recklessly cracked and fell into pieces. Both of them were falling down freely and towards the direction of the great blaze, the man helplessly looked down and swiftly embraced the girl in his arms. He curved himself to wrap around Amber’s body as a shield. When they were only one meter away from the ground, the man gently flung her away from the glowing flame to stop her from getting burnt.
Landing on the grass and rolling down the hill, Amber heard “Zhhhhhhheeeeeeeee”, somebody calling out her name earnestly and “I’m sorry but I… love… you!”. The voice of the man. She recognised it. She tried to crawl uphill, towards the call of her heart, she fell down every time making a step forward but it could not block her way.
All of a sudden, the blindfold fell off for some reason, the real world revealed in the sea of fire. The heat pervaded the atmosphere as hot as a volcano eruption, Amber’s eyes were dazzled by the evil colour of the flame. The reflection on the wooden wall portrayed a blurred man figure writhing in agony, screaming, he was almost being turned into ashes.
Without hesitation, Amber ran like a wind, she collapsed besides the corps, wailing and tossing about as painfully as a haunted wolf howling. That was the first time her voice raised, in great grief and shock.
“Wait for me. I’ll be with you…” she whispered into the air.
Using the knife lying on the ground, Amber followed the call of her love.
The next morning, a peasant found her dead body lying next to a black hat, nobody was wearing it but a huge amount of blood streamed out ceaselessly. Amber was as attractive and innocent as a sleeping beauty, her hand seemed to be holding on something which was floating.
Amber, an abandoned dumb sixteen-year-old girl, had been living an extremely miserable life since she was first delivered to this world. Mommy passed away without having a chance to look at her daughter’s angelic face. Because of the great poverty, disappointment and mid-life crisis, Daddy also refused her precious existence from the very start, Amber was locked up in the attic with a black blindfold covering her eyes. Life treated her capriciously in every way.
… Another massive lightening scattered in the inky sky, “BANGGGG”, the loud noise terrified Amber. She began to retreat in fear, huddling up in the corner of the room, her face in her hands. From moment to moment, the wind blew more strongly, taking the last few flaccid red leafs away into a whirl. Amber could not see what she was supposed to see… At the skyline, there was a brightly glowing figure, getting closer and closer to her at the speed of light, ‘it’ seemed to smash into the window, nonetheless, penetrating surprisingly without falling apart.
Perhaps, Amber’s eyes behind the cloth were sensitive to the halo, the first beam of light that she could ever detect, carefully standing up and groping her way forwards with the hope of reaching something in the dark. Unexpectedly, a deep and manly voice raised from somewhere near:
“Don’t be scared, girl! I am finally here… with you!”
Amber made a step backward with hesitation, she grabbed the pen and the paper, as fast as she could, jotting down a messy line saying: “Stay away from me! Please tell me who you are sir!”
The stranger attempted his best to comfort her by introducing himself as Amber’s hero, also, they were meant to be for each other. He had been patiently searching for her his whole life and now their destiny eventually brought them together.
Every word he said hypotised the poor girl in a magnificent way. After a few moments, she was tightly in his arms, resting her fragile head against his muscular chest, she felt his warm breaths every second. For the first time in her life, peace ever existed. She scribbled on the musty paper everything that she always imagined about the world beyond the black cloth.
“If only the blindfold was removed, I would be able to see an amazing world out there. I gotta have a happy family with daddy and mommy who wholeheartedly love and cosset their daughter like a treasurable pearl. In my dream, the abyss always emerges cool and fulfilled with many feeble sunbeams dancing around as gorgeously as hundreds of rainbows, it is peaceful with birds twittering on the tree branches. In that picture, I appear in a princess costume, as beautiful and sparkling as the early morning dew, innocently stepping on the grass cover. I am the most charming girl in the world!”
The more Amber wrote, the more tears shed on the her pale bony face. Sitting motionlessly and holding her more firmly, he dried the water drops and gently kissed her forehead. Staring at Amber’s skinny arms, a bunch of scars stood out in the dimmed light, dried drops of blood, black and blue everywhere resulting from the millions thrashings of her dad. The white ragged dress covering her body turned yellow blended with the dark- brown blood stains over time.
However, that night, feelings of safety and love struck Amber’s mind intensely, it fascinatingly dispelled her fear and sadness and indeed, she knew her life was destined for this man, who she could not picture his face in reality, but in her imaginary. The ‘reunion’ only lasted until 5 am when she no longer felt the warmth above her head, no responses after a sentence she jotted down, Amber could tell the man had gone.
The next evening, the man returned, Amber could feel his presence since he came into sight far away at the horizon. She stretched her hands out, reaching for his and they embraced passionately in silence. Amber had been waiting for him in fear as she was afraid if he never came back. That night, the man used up his strength to untie the cloth, blood dripping off like water streams however, he failed to do so. The blindfold did not move even a millimeter, it seemed to be made of tough material and weaved with the strongest glue that never fell apart by any chance. Amber melancholically scribbled:
“Thanks dear!… but this is my fate, I believe God doesn’t want me to see the world, he punished me for doing such bad things in my previous incarnation. Let it be the way it is supposed to be! I’m just …okay!”
Silence fulfilled the attic. Amber was emotionless and so was he!
The visit of this mysterious man occurred daily and it automatically became a habit of Amber. Since the day he came into her life, she felt so much better, he brought hopes and love which she had never received by anyone before. The only wish that Amber had was to one time see this man and tell him about her true feelings towards him. She nurtured her dream sincerely from deep of her heart although it was absolutely impossible to carry out.
Tonight was a special night, the man was eager to rescue her from this hellish place. He beforehand prepared several crucial props for the escape to be successful. A lot of tough ropes hanging down the window, he carefully opened the window, carrying Amber in one of his strong arms and stepped out. There were a lot of sharp branches blocking their way, the man continuously struck them off, preventing his lover from being hurt.
Unfortunately, on the ground, Amber’s dad had been hiding behind the giant lamp-post and observed the whole incident, he shouted out loud:
“ Amberrrrr… It was not a mistake to lock you up there. You’ve always been cursed… cursed by that hat… The black hat which is now carrying you down. Hahahahaha… But I’ll not give you a chance to live. It’s your time to meet your mother in HELL.”
Amber was totally freaked out by the voice of her father, she could not hear very clearly what he said because of the massive whirlwind. But every word coming out of his mouth always acted like a sharp knife plunging into her ear and her heart. Suddenly, the dad crazily ran around, holding an enormous torch in his hand, laughing like an old hag… the building was finally on fire. The tough rope melted down quickly, as the hot flame reached the man’s shoes, it recklessly cracked and fell into pieces. Both of them were falling down freely and towards the direction of the great blaze, the man helplessly looked down and swiftly embraced the girl in his arms. He curved himself to wrap around Amber’s body as a shield. When they were only one meter away from the ground, the man gently flung her away from the glowing flame to stop her from getting burnt.
Landing on the grass and rolling down the hill, Amber heard “Zhhhhhhheeeeeeeee”, somebody calling out her name earnestly and “I’m sorry but I… love… you!”. The voice of the man. She recognised it. She tried to crawl uphill, towards the call of her heart, she fell down every time making a step forward but it could not block her way.
All of a sudden, the blindfold fell off for some reason, the real world revealed in the sea of fire. The heat pervaded the atmosphere as hot as a volcano eruption, Amber’s eyes were dazzled by the evil colour of the flame. The reflection on the wooden wall portrayed a blurred man figure writhing in agony, screaming, he was almost being turned into ashes.
Without hesitation, Amber ran like a wind, she collapsed besides the corps, wailing and tossing about as painfully as a haunted wolf howling. That was the first time her voice raised, in great grief and shock.
“Wait for me. I’ll be with you…” she whispered into the air.
Using the knife lying on the ground, Amber followed the call of her love.
The next morning, a peasant found her dead body lying next to a black hat, nobody was wearing it but a huge amount of blood streamed out ceaselessly. Amber was as attractive and innocent as a sleeping beauty, her hand seemed to be holding on something which was floating.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Naida
This took me around about 45 minutes.
Elena wakes up at the break of dawn to prepare herself for another day of relentless work. She gets up, gets dressed, does all the usual things a teenage girl would do, however a small part at the back of her mind tells her today is different, the world will change for her. Nevertheless she carries on her daily rountines and goes downstairs where her burnt toast is awaiting her. Her mother reeks of that god forbidden alcohol and deranged smell of ciagrettes. As she slowly munches on her piece of toast, she sees something flicker out of the corner of her eye yet discards it because her mother has just dropped her mug of coffee.
"Annabelle! Why must you always do that? We don't have enough money to afford another mug!" Elena exasperated.
"Its not my *hiccup* fault! I thought I saw a snake!" Annabelle slurred.
"Snakes don't live in Alaska, its too cold! Don't you ever listen I told you this yesterday! Elena shrieked at her mother.
"Excuse me, dont sho-*hiccup* shout at me, I'm your mother!"
" Well why don't you start ACTING like a mother for once!" Elena yelled and then stormed out of the house in rage, slamming the door behind her.
As she trudged her way to work, she again saw that golden flicker just inside her vision yet, couldnt distinguish what it was. This time she stopped and looked around hoping so could make out what it was. Unfortunately she couldnt so she continued her lumber to work. Since she lived in Alaska, the pavements were always slippery and icy, so she had to walk carefully, however a group of hockey boys were approaching and had those cocky grins on. Elena tried to avoid them, but they were too fast. They pushed her to the ground, face first, where she atea load of snow, ice and sludge and they laughed hysterically, ditching her on the side of the road. She pushed herself onto her hands and knees and wiped her face, only to find her lip swollen and bleeding. In surrender, her head fell forward as she started weeping silently.
After a while she cleared the tears, snot and blood off her face and as she looks up she sees a faery right in front of her. Elena screeches and stumbles backwards onto the ground. The faery flys closer in an confident way and flutters in front of her face and whispers
" Need not be afraid young Elena, I am a faery and it is my solemn duty to protect you."
Baffled Elena trys to recount what faeries are. She could remember her father, before he passed away, mentioning that faeries were elemental creatures and were "spirits of the air" that would act as a sworn protector on who they were assigned to.
"But, but, w-w-why me?"
"Oh young one, hasn't your mother told you? Your father died 5 years ago and was often away, correct?"
"C-c-correct."
Well your father was the personified verison of Poseidon 'God of the Sea' and I have been looking after you for 5 years, however I was only allowed to tell you when you were older, more mature
and depressed with your life."
Completely stunned Elena was trying to sort out the facts she has been given and it sort of made sense because she had read on the news about incarnate versions of Greek Gods, but had never believed HER father to be one.
"O-ok, but your only the size of a pencil, how are you supposed to pro-o-otect me?"
"Ahh young one you have much to learn about my species. For example, my name is Naida meaning 'water nymph' so I have contact with water all the time and you, Daughter of Poseidon have an affinity for water.
"Oh." Was the word Elena could mutter at this time and because she forgot to grab her huge wollen coat, due to coldness, she passed out.
10 years passed and Naida and Elena are as close as ever. Elena has managed to avoid media attention about her title 'Daughter of Poseidon' and now lives with her husband and two children. Her mother died due to liver and lung cancer about 7 years ago. Naida has protected Elena from her mothers alcohol past, the media and of course Daemons for 10 years now and you will always find her right beside her companion and sworn protector for life.
Elena wakes up at the break of dawn to prepare herself for another day of relentless work. She gets up, gets dressed, does all the usual things a teenage girl would do, however a small part at the back of her mind tells her today is different, the world will change for her. Nevertheless she carries on her daily rountines and goes downstairs where her burnt toast is awaiting her. Her mother reeks of that god forbidden alcohol and deranged smell of ciagrettes. As she slowly munches on her piece of toast, she sees something flicker out of the corner of her eye yet discards it because her mother has just dropped her mug of coffee.
"Annabelle! Why must you always do that? We don't have enough money to afford another mug!" Elena exasperated.
"Its not my *hiccup* fault! I thought I saw a snake!" Annabelle slurred.
"Snakes don't live in Alaska, its too cold! Don't you ever listen I told you this yesterday! Elena shrieked at her mother.
"Excuse me, dont sho-*hiccup* shout at me, I'm your mother!"
" Well why don't you start ACTING like a mother for once!" Elena yelled and then stormed out of the house in rage, slamming the door behind her.
As she trudged her way to work, she again saw that golden flicker just inside her vision yet, couldnt distinguish what it was. This time she stopped and looked around hoping so could make out what it was. Unfortunately she couldnt so she continued her lumber to work. Since she lived in Alaska, the pavements were always slippery and icy, so she had to walk carefully, however a group of hockey boys were approaching and had those cocky grins on. Elena tried to avoid them, but they were too fast. They pushed her to the ground, face first, where she atea load of snow, ice and sludge and they laughed hysterically, ditching her on the side of the road. She pushed herself onto her hands and knees and wiped her face, only to find her lip swollen and bleeding. In surrender, her head fell forward as she started weeping silently.
After a while she cleared the tears, snot and blood off her face and as she looks up she sees a faery right in front of her. Elena screeches and stumbles backwards onto the ground. The faery flys closer in an confident way and flutters in front of her face and whispers
" Need not be afraid young Elena, I am a faery and it is my solemn duty to protect you."
Baffled Elena trys to recount what faeries are. She could remember her father, before he passed away, mentioning that faeries were elemental creatures and were "spirits of the air" that would act as a sworn protector on who they were assigned to.
"But, but, w-w-why me?"
"Oh young one, hasn't your mother told you? Your father died 5 years ago and was often away, correct?"
"C-c-correct."
Well your father was the personified verison of Poseidon 'God of the Sea' and I have been looking after you for 5 years, however I was only allowed to tell you when you were older, more mature
and depressed with your life."
Completely stunned Elena was trying to sort out the facts she has been given and it sort of made sense because she had read on the news about incarnate versions of Greek Gods, but had never believed HER father to be one.
"O-ok, but your only the size of a pencil, how are you supposed to pro-o-otect me?"
"Ahh young one you have much to learn about my species. For example, my name is Naida meaning 'water nymph' so I have contact with water all the time and you, Daughter of Poseidon have an affinity for water.
"Oh." Was the word Elena could mutter at this time and because she forgot to grab her huge wollen coat, due to coldness, she passed out.
10 years passed and Naida and Elena are as close as ever. Elena has managed to avoid media attention about her title 'Daughter of Poseidon' and now lives with her husband and two children. Her mother died due to liver and lung cancer about 7 years ago. Naida has protected Elena from her mothers alcohol past, the media and of course Daemons for 10 years now and you will always find her right beside her companion and sworn protector for life.
Sophia's - since everyone else is doing a horror :)
Deceived
They took my eyes.
All I see is an empty darkness, where exactly am I? The chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves and the howl of the wind. Where are they coming from? My left? Right? Behind me?
I should’ve known not to go with them, that I’d end up the victim.
Laughter.
I lunged to my right, arms stretched, ready to get my revenge. No one was there. I skid to a stop and there was a sting along my arm but I pushed the pain aside, all I could feel was my anger.
It wasn’t fair that I’d be chosen for this.
More laughter.
All around me, the sounds echoed. They were taunting me! My cheeks burned and I knew they were enjoying it, seeing my fury as I grasped nothing but air.
Again and again I charged forwards. And the louder their laughter grew.
No. I had to calm myself, rage would only entertain them. And then I heard it.
“Left, the closest one is to your left.”
It was soothing, that voice. Calm and gentle but also old and tired, like a wizened grandfather talking to his beloved grandchildren.
The laughing continued, they didn’t hear him.
I smirked, knowing victory was close.
“Take two steps forwards and then another to the right.”
With a growl I jumped forward then twisted to the right and for a second there was nothing. Then I felt it. It wasn’t rough like a branch but warm and soft.
“Tag! You’re it!”
I slipped the cloth off and colour exploded into my world. The air was filled with brilliant laughter, birds excitedly flew above us, the leaves gracefully danced in the wind and I grinned in triumph.
“How did you catch me? You didn’t cheat did you?” Came a playfully annoyed whine.
I laughed back at their curious, irritated faces and glanced up; towering protectively above was the century old Oak tree that had watched over us all these years.
Friday, November 12, 2010
THE HORRIBLE WEIRD STORY THAT TOOK LONGER THAN 10 MINUTES.
MY DOLL HAS A SECRET
At a certain place, there was a beautiful pair of dolls. They were two, but they existed as one. However one day, they were suddenly separated...
I’m Haine Cheiko(16).
“Here. I’ve finished mending it.” I called out to a customer, who wanted to mend his granddaughter’s teddy which had a hole in its butt.
Ah it looks nice. Thank you miss......Also tell that her house has a lot of moisture. My body itches.
I smiled as I handed the newly repaired teddy bear back to the customer. “please air your teddy in a place with lots of ventilation in future.”
“Grandpa, I want that doll.” A little girl said to the old man. I looked at the doll she was pointing at. The doll sat on a ledge in the shop, sitting majestically on a chair. The chair next to him was just as splendid and fine in detail, but it was empty. The doll sat there, a smile on its face, its wavy black hair giving it a playful look.
That’s cruel, master. Her teddy said, looking at the girl.
“What? Didn’t we just get your teddy mended? Plus that doll looks expensive.” The old man said.
“No way! I want it!” the girl cried.
I looked at her. “I’m sorry, that doll isn’t for sale. He has to wait here. For his ‘important person’, who was separated from him a long time ago, to come back.”
“Pair dolls huh?” said the old man. “So that kind of that thing does happen...”
“This is a doll that has been handed down from generation to generation. For a long time now, we been searching for his partner, and wishing for his happiness.”
The girl looked at the doll. “....it’d be great if you can find the other doll.”
I turned the sign from ‘open’ to ‘close’.
What do you mean by my happiness? How hypocritical. Why don’t you just honestly say that its your ‘duty’? the doll seemed to stare at me accusingly.
Our family is a family of ‘doll makers’ that has been in existence since the Kurokachi era.
I just looked back at it. “....if you say that, I wont look for ‘Ryo-chan’ for you anymore.” I took the doll’s little tiny hand.
We, who have the power to hear dolls’ voices, have been making an occupation out of ‘saving’ them, for generations.
I raised the doll’s hand to my lips.
I looked up in wonder and watched the doll turn into a human being. I smiled at him. “Hello Leo.”
He is Leonardo Bloodangel. He’s a special ‘doll’ that turns into a human only at night. Along time ago, a genius doll maker called Cheiko Choushichirou created the two guardian deities for our family so that we can ‘save’ the many dolls in the world. ‘Leo’ and ‘Ryo’. But I had lost Ryo when my parents had died.
“...But having to kiss you in order to wake you up.... my ancestor was so playful, or should I say, weird.” I said walking to the back of the shop.
“I think that’s the easiest way to convey your ‘deep affection’ for me. Anything wrong with that?” Leo said off handedly. Then he smirked at me. “Dolls constantly want ‘love’. Even if its from an inexperienced doll maker, like a certain someone.”
I switched on the television. “...the doll exhibition house near XXXX has been discontinued. However many accidents have happened when XXXXXX company has tried demolishing the property. Some claim that they were attacked by the dolls inside....” some pictures of the dolls were flashed alongside the broadcaster’s face. “....there is also a doll that can assume a human form, which is rare in this world....”
Leo looked up, staring intently at the television. “Its Ryo!”
*******
We went to the abandoned factory site. We walked tentatively into the building. The dolls were in such disorder, randomly scattered over the place.
It humans. .....Humans.....Horrible.........Treat us like trash..... we heard the whisperings of dolls, that lay abandoned on the floor.
“Did you come to hurt us?” a china doll came out. She had big black eyes that stared straight into my soul. Her gaze pierced straight into my heart and sent chills shivering down my spine.
“No we came to save you all.....“
We hate humans. The doll replied. The other dolls came into view. Their eyes had hatred reflected in them, staring at me in disgust. A clown stared at me, its big fat lips curled sneeringly at me, a knife in its hand.
humans.... thinking that they can just throw us away after we become useless to them... a doll with a ripped dress glared at me. a Barbie next to her curled her lip at me, and fingered a hammer.
Dolls have souls. Show them love, and the doll would be happy too. When a doll gets mistreated, its soul will become twisted. They might also come alive and start attacking humans.
I closed my eyes. The only way to cure these twisted dolls who hated humans was to purify them.
I held out my hand. And something hit it.
I opened my eyes in surprise. Ryo was in front of me. I recognised her instantly. Her pretty face, long flowing hair and serene face. I lifted her hand and kissed her.
The doll transformed and pushed me away from her.
“Haine!!!” Leo cried, catching me., before I fell. We both stared at her in surprise. She glared at us, an expression of distaste evident on her face. Her face had transformed in that instant.
I reached out a hand to her.
She pushed me away again. “you are just the same as the rest of the humans. Throwing us away when you don’t need us. You don’t deserve the power to purify our souls! You are a disgrace as a head of the Cheikos! You should be ashamed to even show your face to me!”
I looked at her. “It wasn’t voluntary! They-they had died! I accidentally lost you during the inheritance and passing down of the family business! Anyway you should be happy! You are finally reunited with Leo! You can finally get back together with each other!”
“Why would I do that?” Leo said questioningly.
“Arent you guys a couple?” I asked.
“No... Even though Ryo looks like a girl, we’re both guys.”
“SO what?” Ryo cried. “Piss off! I hate you Cheiko! You never even bothered trying to find me after all that time!!!. Im not letting you become the next head of the Cheiko family! I will never be your guardian doll!!”
She raised her hand. It swilled with dark crackling energy and aimed it at me. I threw up my hands, trying to release as much energy as I could. But there was a limit to how much power I could summon.
But all I knew was the world exploding in bright and dark energy, which slowly enveloped me, and I felt myself fading away into the light. I bowed my head and yelled but nothing came out. Ryo..... I was sorry for all that I had put her through. She was right. I didn’t deserve to be the head of the Cheiko family. No one had ever lost one of the guardian dolls before. Add the fact that it took me 7 years to find her again. No wonder her soul had become twisted. But it was all too late now. I felt my innards explode from within me and I disappeared into the light.
*****
The light cleared. All the dolls sat around, with cleansed purified souls, smiling happily at him. The clown now looked as if he were smiling from his soul. Leo stood up and looked around.
He saw Ryo, but it wasn’t him. It was just an empty doll shell. There was no soul. Leo could tell by the blank stare of the doll.
He had failed. He was supposed to protect Haine, but one of the guardian dolls had turned against her. Even though their power when together was invincible, Ryo alone was powerful enough on his own.
Leo walked out into the morning darkness and revelled in the ashes floating in the air. Ashes.... Haine.... she had been reduced to these ashes. No one else would search for them like Haine had. No one would even bother.
The wind slowly blew the ashes away and they disappeared into the distance.
It would be much later that Leo would find out that and that Ryo would come back to him, and that they could transform into a human anytime they wanted during the night, and that they would continue ‘saving’ twisted doll souls together without the head of the Cheiko family. And that Ryo would look just like Haine.
Leo watched the sunrise until he transformed back into a doll.
At a certain place, there was a beautiful pair of dolls. They were two, but they existed as one. However one day, they were suddenly separated...
“Here. I’ve finished mending it.” I called out to a customer, who wanted to mend his granddaughter’s teddy which had a hole in its butt.
Ah it looks nice. Thank you miss......Also tell that her house has a lot of moisture. My body itches.
I smiled as I handed the newly repaired teddy bear back to the customer. “please air your teddy in a place with lots of ventilation in future.”
“Grandpa, I want that doll.” A little girl said to the old man. I looked at the doll she was pointing at. The doll sat on a ledge in the shop, sitting majestically on a chair. The chair next to him was just as splendid and fine in detail, but it was empty. The doll sat there, a smile on its face, its wavy black hair giving it a playful look.
That’s cruel, master. Her teddy said, looking at the girl.
“What? Didn’t we just get your teddy mended? Plus that doll looks expensive.” The old man said.
“No way! I want it!” the girl cried.
I looked at her. “I’m sorry, that doll isn’t for sale. He has to wait here. For his ‘important person’, who was separated from him a long time ago, to come back.”
“Pair dolls huh?” said the old man. “So that kind of that thing does happen...”
“This is a doll that has been handed down from generation to generation. For a long time now, we been searching for his partner, and wishing for his happiness.”
The girl looked at the doll. “....it’d be great if you can find the other doll.”
I turned the sign from ‘open’ to ‘close’.
What do you mean by my happiness? How hypocritical. Why don’t you just honestly say that its your ‘duty’? the doll seemed to stare at me accusingly.
Our family is a family of ‘doll makers’ that has been in existence since the Kurokachi era.
I just looked back at it. “....if you say that, I wont look for ‘Ryo-chan’ for you anymore.” I took the doll’s little tiny hand.
We, who have the power to hear dolls’ voices, have been making an occupation out of ‘saving’ them, for generations.
I raised the doll’s hand to my lips.
I looked up in wonder and watched the doll turn into a human being. I smiled at him. “Hello Leo.”
He is Leonardo Bloodangel. He’s a special ‘doll’ that turns into a human only at night. Along time ago, a genius doll maker called Cheiko Choushichirou created the two guardian deities for our family so that we can ‘save’ the many dolls in the world. ‘Leo’ and ‘Ryo’. But I had lost Ryo when my parents had died.
“...But having to kiss you in order to wake you up.... my ancestor was so playful, or should I say, weird.” I said walking to the back of the shop.
“I think that’s the easiest way to convey your ‘deep affection’ for me. Anything wrong with that?” Leo said off handedly. Then he smirked at me. “Dolls constantly want ‘love’. Even if its from an inexperienced doll maker, like a certain someone.”
I switched on the television. “...the doll exhibition house near XXXX has been discontinued. However many accidents have happened when XXXXXX company has tried demolishing the property. Some claim that they were attacked by the dolls inside....” some pictures of the dolls were flashed alongside the broadcaster’s face. “....there is also a doll that can assume a human form, which is rare in this world....”
Leo looked up, staring intently at the television. “Its Ryo!”
*******
We went to the abandoned factory site. We walked tentatively into the building. The dolls were in such disorder, randomly scattered over the place.
It humans. .....Humans.....Horrible.........Treat us like trash..... we heard the whisperings of dolls, that lay abandoned on the floor.
“Did you come to hurt us?” a china doll came out. She had big black eyes that stared straight into my soul. Her gaze pierced straight into my heart and sent chills shivering down my spine.
“No we came to save you all.....“
We hate humans. The doll replied. The other dolls came into view. Their eyes had hatred reflected in them, staring at me in disgust. A clown stared at me, its big fat lips curled sneeringly at me, a knife in its hand.
humans.... thinking that they can just throw us away after we become useless to them... a doll with a ripped dress glared at me. a Barbie next to her curled her lip at me, and fingered a hammer.
Dolls have souls. Show them love, and the doll would be happy too. When a doll gets mistreated, its soul will become twisted. They might also come alive and start attacking humans.
I closed my eyes. The only way to cure these twisted dolls who hated humans was to purify them.
I held out my hand. And something hit it.
I opened my eyes in surprise. Ryo was in front of me. I recognised her instantly. Her pretty face, long flowing hair and serene face. I lifted her hand and kissed her.
The doll transformed and pushed me away from her.
“Haine!!!” Leo cried, catching me., before I fell. We both stared at her in surprise. She glared at us, an expression of distaste evident on her face. Her face had transformed in that instant.
I reached out a hand to her.
She pushed me away again. “you are just the same as the rest of the humans. Throwing us away when you don’t need us. You don’t deserve the power to purify our souls! You are a disgrace as a head of the Cheikos! You should be ashamed to even show your face to me!”
I looked at her. “It wasn’t voluntary! They-they had died! I accidentally lost you during the inheritance and passing down of the family business! Anyway you should be happy! You are finally reunited with Leo! You can finally get back together with each other!”
“Why would I do that?” Leo said questioningly.
“Arent you guys a couple?” I asked.
“No... Even though Ryo looks like a girl, we’re both guys.”
“SO what?” Ryo cried. “Piss off! I hate you Cheiko! You never even bothered trying to find me after all that time!!!. Im not letting you become the next head of the Cheiko family! I will never be your guardian doll!!”
She raised her hand. It swilled with dark crackling energy and aimed it at me. I threw up my hands, trying to release as much energy as I could. But there was a limit to how much power I could summon.
But all I knew was the world exploding in bright and dark energy, which slowly enveloped me, and I felt myself fading away into the light. I bowed my head and yelled but nothing came out. Ryo..... I was sorry for all that I had put her through. She was right. I didn’t deserve to be the head of the Cheiko family. No one had ever lost one of the guardian dolls before. Add the fact that it took me 7 years to find her again. No wonder her soul had become twisted. But it was all too late now. I felt my innards explode from within me and I disappeared into the light.
*****
The light cleared. All the dolls sat around, with cleansed purified souls, smiling happily at him. The clown now looked as if he were smiling from his soul. Leo stood up and looked around.
He saw Ryo, but it wasn’t him. It was just an empty doll shell. There was no soul. Leo could tell by the blank stare of the doll.
He had failed. He was supposed to protect Haine, but one of the guardian dolls had turned against her. Even though their power when together was invincible, Ryo alone was powerful enough on his own.
Leo walked out into the morning darkness and revelled in the ashes floating in the air. Ashes.... Haine.... she had been reduced to these ashes. No one else would search for them like Haine had. No one would even bother.
The wind slowly blew the ashes away and they disappeared into the distance.
It would be much later that Leo would find out that and that Ryo would come back to him, and that they could transform into a human anytime they wanted during the night, and that they would continue ‘saving’ twisted doll souls together without the head of the Cheiko family. And that Ryo would look just like Haine.
Leo watched the sunrise until he transformed back into a doll.
INCRDIBLY BORING AND BAD IDEA THAT TOOK ME LONGER THAN 10 MINS :(
6 November 1995
6:65 pm
Awooooo! shouted some boys to a materializing full moon.
AAWWOOOO!!! they screamed, puffing their chests out and squirming in a struggled, drunken earthwormlike manner.the younger one then ripped open his thin shirt, pretending to transform into some hairy monster,an image regurgitated on as many comic books as this young world can remember.
6:65 pm
Again, i stand before the mirror
I check the time, it is just right
there are drunks on the pavement, they shouldn't be mocking her.
I can tell she's annoyed, she's lucid, pondering...waiting.
6:66
i refuse her no longer, i raise the scalpel to my left eye.I take one last look at her beautiful smooth complexion.I can see her starting to solidify, smirking, anticipating satisfaction.
Soon, i tell her,we will be together.
6 June 1992
well what can i say? I'm turning 16 soon and really nothing much has happened in my life.This day hasn't changed anything. I'm still friendless and I've never kissed a boy, to say the truth i don't even know much about reproduction.I'm tired of being ignored, of never having a boy stop and look at me on the stairs. they still call me the space freak - the one who's obsessed about the stars, the planets, the moon.
When will i ever be freed from this!?
6 November 1992
I've made a discovery. The moon is speaking to me, she sais if i give her "just a teensy bit" of my "lush red blood" she would in-turn grant me a wish. So i did.I wished i could be popular in school, then i pricked my finger and thrust the blood out the window, in her direction. Immediately she comes forth and catches it on her tongue.Guess what? the next day i get invited to the girls basketball team
i get to sit with Jessica Baker at lunch and Kenny Wroblewski takes me home, onto my doorstep! But the moon's translucent, she isnt as strong, as solid as the last night.
i rip open my wound and i slice across my finger, then i thank her and i go to sleep.
Suddenly she is as radiant as the morning sun.
6 November 1993
Everyday i thrust a bit of blood at The moon. ive become accustomed to cutting my index finger, on which i wear a large metal ring t cover up a collage of scars. i don't want anybody to think i'm suicidal but the moon seems to be growing, like a child. she needs to eat more, so i prick and i cut every other part of my body that is off limits to the public.
6 November 1994
She wants more and more. i cannot resist giving her more and more. She is the diamond of the Queen's royal jewels, shining brighter and brighter, she is the true mother to me. I would give anything for her.That is why on my seventeenth birthday, i give my mother my ear.
so that she may hear me on my time on earth.
5 November 1995
it's tommorrow.it's been 3 years, my body is covered in scars, a couple of toes are missing, and my left ear. The woman who lives downstairs keeps wanting to bring me to a "shrink" for help but i tell the worried lady that i am fine and that my mother is here with me. She seems to have gone mad,everyday she screams and shakes me around claiming that she is my mother. i guess that's what comes with old age.
It's tommorrow. tommorrow i will finnally join my mother in the land i've always dreamed of, surrounded by stars, ruled by her. But first i have to give up sunlight and learn to live in total darkness just like her. I am scared. but for her, i will do anything.
6 November 1995
6:59 pm
The emergency room
"Another one just came in, looks like this one tried to take her left eye out with a scalpel.we've conducted a body check up and he whole body's covered up in scars. we need anesthetics. she's asking for her mother but she keeps denying the curly haired woman is of any relation and keeps asking if she is up above yet. It's like those other cases on full moon, i guess it just drives us crazy."
6:65 pm
Awooooo! shouted some boys to a materializing full moon.
AAWWOOOO!!! they screamed, puffing their chests out and squirming in a struggled, drunken earthwormlike manner.the younger one then ripped open his thin shirt, pretending to transform into some hairy monster,an image regurgitated on as many comic books as this young world can remember.
6:65 pm
Again, i stand before the mirror
I check the time, it is just right
there are drunks on the pavement, they shouldn't be mocking her.
I can tell she's annoyed, she's lucid, pondering...waiting.
6:66
i refuse her no longer, i raise the scalpel to my left eye.I take one last look at her beautiful smooth complexion.I can see her starting to solidify, smirking, anticipating satisfaction.
Soon, i tell her,we will be together.
6 June 1992
well what can i say? I'm turning 16 soon and really nothing much has happened in my life.This day hasn't changed anything. I'm still friendless and I've never kissed a boy, to say the truth i don't even know much about reproduction.I'm tired of being ignored, of never having a boy stop and look at me on the stairs. they still call me the space freak - the one who's obsessed about the stars, the planets, the moon.
When will i ever be freed from this!?
6 November 1992
I've made a discovery. The moon is speaking to me, she sais if i give her "just a teensy bit" of my "lush red blood" she would in-turn grant me a wish. So i did.I wished i could be popular in school, then i pricked my finger and thrust the blood out the window, in her direction. Immediately she comes forth and catches it on her tongue.Guess what? the next day i get invited to the girls basketball team
i get to sit with Jessica Baker at lunch and Kenny Wroblewski takes me home, onto my doorstep! But the moon's translucent, she isnt as strong, as solid as the last night.
i rip open my wound and i slice across my finger, then i thank her and i go to sleep.
Suddenly she is as radiant as the morning sun.
6 November 1993
Everyday i thrust a bit of blood at The moon. ive become accustomed to cutting my index finger, on which i wear a large metal ring t cover up a collage of scars. i don't want anybody to think i'm suicidal but the moon seems to be growing, like a child. she needs to eat more, so i prick and i cut every other part of my body that is off limits to the public.
6 November 1994
She wants more and more. i cannot resist giving her more and more. She is the diamond of the Queen's royal jewels, shining brighter and brighter, she is the true mother to me. I would give anything for her.That is why on my seventeenth birthday, i give my mother my ear.
so that she may hear me on my time on earth.
5 November 1995
it's tommorrow.it's been 3 years, my body is covered in scars, a couple of toes are missing, and my left ear. The woman who lives downstairs keeps wanting to bring me to a "shrink" for help but i tell the worried lady that i am fine and that my mother is here with me. She seems to have gone mad,everyday she screams and shakes me around claiming that she is my mother. i guess that's what comes with old age.
It's tommorrow. tommorrow i will finnally join my mother in the land i've always dreamed of, surrounded by stars, ruled by her. But first i have to give up sunlight and learn to live in total darkness just like her. I am scared. but for her, i will do anything.
6 November 1995
6:59 pm
The emergency room
"Another one just came in, looks like this one tried to take her left eye out with a scalpel.we've conducted a body check up and he whole body's covered up in scars. we need anesthetics. she's asking for her mother but she keeps denying the curly haired woman is of any relation and keeps asking if she is up above yet. It's like those other cases on full moon, i guess it just drives us crazy."
Ryan's Free Writing Homework
Yay! I'm the first one to submit :) Well I am liking my story, it's so twisted :)
The Kimono
There was a kimono that my dad bought 14 years ago when I was very small. It was a heavy costume with many flower patterns and has a very grand and royal look to it. When it was showcased on the wall (no one can wear it because it was too heavy) for the very first time. It gives me chills for its magnificent look: its complexity in design, its golden illumination through light when you look at it and for the intense of its mystery. However, as everyday I saw it on the wall I felt less and less secure. There was something evil about it. It was fearful to behold and I could not stare at it for so long. After two years, when I was twelve years old, the kimono has lost its charm; it was a dirty, weary old thing. So one day, my dad took it off and asked my mother:
“This kimono has gotten very old, should we dump it?”
To my surprise, my mother insisted on keeping it. She said:
“But you bought it with a great price. It is way too expensive to get rid of. Maybe we should just store it somewhere?”
I found it unnerving that my dad decided to keep it on the top level of my wardrobe. I could not describe this feeling, but perhaps it was fear: there was something wrong and evil about the costume that I didn’t want to get near to it.
The kimono’s golden colour was washed away and replaced with an odory tainted yellow. There was a great layer of dust covering upon it, and when my dad wrapped it up, the dust really kept my dad from going on, Perhaps the kimono was trying to escape its fate by making a chaotic mess. Me and my dad was determined. We found a big plastic wrapper sowe rolled the two meters shag of fabrics in. It made a ‘thump’ sound as it dropped to the bottom of the bag. We managed to lift it to the top level of the wardrobe and pushed it far into the shadowy corner. When you looked closely you could see its dusty yellow figure hovering beneath the thick layer of the plastic bag in the dark.
But my fear lived on. Every time I opened the wardrobe I felt that darkness was lurking from above. The shadowy abyss and in the center of it the evil dusty yellow emerged. As I grew taller and taller, I felt more anxious because my eyesight would sooner or later inevitably gaze upon the thing.
One day, my sister requested my wardrobe to be hers. I was relieved and immediately “transferred” that evilness out of my room. At first, I was still anxious about it because of the fact that it was still in the house; I knew that when I was asleep it would crawl out and shifting heavily like a snake around. It would sneak in and watching me with its rusty yellow.
But as time went by, my fear of the dress ceased weaker and weaker until one day, I forgot about the costume….
One golden afternoon, when everyone was away, I slept late, feeling sick with fever, until afternoon in my room and when my eyes slowly opened, they saw a golden ray of light shot from the peak of the closed curtain. The room was not alighted but it was not dark either… It was just like the intense darkish colour of the kimono. I felt something weird about the sunlight. The honey colour reflected a thick layer of dust in the air.
Then I heard a ‘thump’, it was from somewhere outside of my room. Then there was a shifting sound made like someone was dragging a blanket on the floor.
I quickly stood up and watched intensely through the chink underneath my door. The ‘sh’ and ‘sh’ just grew louder and louder as I felt more anxious and scared. There was someone or something outside the door, and to my horror I quickly realized that there could not be possibly anyone in the house, and that thing outside could be the kimono itself! I might be the victim that it’s going to kill! Right at that moment, there was a ‘fphhfp’ at my door and the chink was filled up. The kimono’s fabrics had covered it! I was trembling but yet feeling dizzily brave. The thing had cursed my family long enough, and to my simple mind, afterall it was just a piece of cloth. Then I ran to the door and I opened it with a swift motion…
There was nothing outside.
When I went back to sleep, I had a horrible nightmare of it. The dress was wrapping me up and breaking my bones like a snake. It left me with nothing but a layer of skin.
Then some days later when I had recovered from my fever, I asked my dad:
“Dad, can you get rid of that old kimono upstairs?”
My dad was curious:
“Why?”
I answered with hesitation:
“I don’t know, it just creeps me out all these years, please will you just get rid of it or give it to someone else?”
After a long persuasion, he agreed with me. We both went up stairs to my sister room and we opened the wardrobe. Dad told me to get a tool for him. I did so and he stood up on it trying to get the kimono out. Then I funny thing happened, he froze for a bit and slowly got down from the tool. He asked me:
“By any chance, have you seen it?”
I lied:
“N…n….no… why?”
“That’s very curious, indeed!”
“What’s curious?”
“Well, it’s not here anymore.”
Monday, November 8, 2010
Presentations Today
People,
Absolutely excellent presentations today in the theatre. It embarrasses me a little to praise you all too effusively to your faces but I was simply staggered with the amount of work, thought and intellect that you all invested in them, especially considering that some of you have been out of school.
Moments like that today truly make being a teacher the great job that it is and made me immensely proud and impressed by you all.
I look forward to hearing the last group on Thursday. Please get your posters to em ASAP and could one person from each group email me your powerpoints. davidpollicutt@bisvietnam.com
Well done
Absolutely excellent presentations today in the theatre. It embarrasses me a little to praise you all too effusively to your faces but I was simply staggered with the amount of work, thought and intellect that you all invested in them, especially considering that some of you have been out of school.
Moments like that today truly make being a teacher the great job that it is and made me immensely proud and impressed by you all.
I look forward to hearing the last group on Thursday. Please get your posters to em ASAP and could one person from each group email me your powerpoints. davidpollicutt@bisvietnam.com
Well done
Monday, October 25, 2010
Nick's diary entry - veronica .
Well I found out there's an indie rock band called Gatsby's American Dream .. probably better than that other band you wanted us to listen to.
---
You are Nick Carraway. Write a diary entry describing your thoughts and feelings after the meal with Gatsby and Wolfshiem.
I met Gatsby at 42nd street this noon for lunch. I wanted to spend some time alone with him as I thought we were geting closer, perhaps even forming a friendship. I was planning on asking him about his Oxford days when I noticed we weren't to be alone; there was a stout Jewish man at the table. A Jew with Gatsby! What was he thinking, getting involved with such a man?
He was called Meyer Wolfshiem. Not long after we were seated he started telling Rosy Rosenthal's story, claiming that he was present when Rosenthal was assassinated. It was a story I was perfectly familiar with, but I nonetheless asked a question out of politeness; he responded quite forcefully, almost indignantly. His mustache and animated nose were even more accentuated as he went on tellign the story, his nose especially so. I was fixated with his nose; it was as if it had a life of its own! After he finished telling his story Wolfshiem asked me if I was looking for a business 'gonnegtion'. It waws almost chilling how casually he put the two together, as if life and death were merely casual in the business world. Gatsby's answer was equally puzzling; he replied 'We'll talk about that later,' as if he too were hiding something from me. What could it be?
Wolfshie ate with gusto once the food arrived, but his facial features were ever disturbing. His eyes roamed around the room in full circles, inspecting innocent diners out of the corners of his eyes. His paranoia was apparent; what exactly he feared I don't know but he looked ready to search everyone in the restaurant.
I was, howeverm aware that Gatsby was acting suspicious and was glad when he mentioned what happened that morning. I asked him why he felt he had to use Jordan Baker as a medium indteado f telling me straight away what he wants to. He answered casually that Jordan was a great athlete and she wouldn't do anything that wasn't right.
He then jumped up from the table and left, giving me a chance to further acquaint with Wolfshiem. I found out that Gatsby and he were longtime acquaintances and he definitely seemed to have a good impression of Gatsby. Wolfshiem had on a ridiculously flashy set of cufflinks made of human molars - yes, molars. A Jew with cufflinks made of teeth .. what a sight it made. He left almost immediately after Gatsby came back. Why I don't know, but I'm afraid it may have been something I said. He definitely left a great impression.
I later found out from Gatsby that Wolfshiem was the man who fixed the World Series back in '19. This was a lot to take in, as I always thought such things just happened; it seemed impossile to me how one man could tamper with the faith of a nation.
As I paid the bill the strangest thing happened. I noticed Tom Buchanan across the room - I thought it would be a good idea to introduce him to Gatsby, as I felt they were similar people. I did not have to approach him; it seemed that Bucahnaan had noticed me too and briskly walked towards us. I then proceeded to introduce Gatsby to him and as they were shaking hands a foreign look clouded over Gatsby's face, a look unlike any other I'd seen on him. The smile I'd come to expect was gone and an almost forced, faintly embarrassed look was in place. As I was exchanging some words with Tom I turned towards where Gatsby was moments ago; it seemed that he disappeared.
I was beyond confused. Did the two of them know each other? If so, Buchanan showed no sign of it. Perhaps he was just uncomfortable in the presence of a stranger? - clearly unlikely; his lavish parties are living proof of that. I will be meeting Jordan Baker later today; I shall ask if she knows why Gatsby was so unlike himself.
it's so baaaad ...
---
You are Nick Carraway. Write a diary entry describing your thoughts and feelings after the meal with Gatsby and Wolfshiem.
I met Gatsby at 42nd street this noon for lunch. I wanted to spend some time alone with him as I thought we were geting closer, perhaps even forming a friendship. I was planning on asking him about his Oxford days when I noticed we weren't to be alone; there was a stout Jewish man at the table. A Jew with Gatsby! What was he thinking, getting involved with such a man?
He was called Meyer Wolfshiem. Not long after we were seated he started telling Rosy Rosenthal's story, claiming that he was present when Rosenthal was assassinated. It was a story I was perfectly familiar with, but I nonetheless asked a question out of politeness; he responded quite forcefully, almost indignantly. His mustache and animated nose were even more accentuated as he went on tellign the story, his nose especially so. I was fixated with his nose; it was as if it had a life of its own! After he finished telling his story Wolfshiem asked me if I was looking for a business 'gonnegtion'. It waws almost chilling how casually he put the two together, as if life and death were merely casual in the business world. Gatsby's answer was equally puzzling; he replied 'We'll talk about that later,' as if he too were hiding something from me. What could it be?
Wolfshie ate with gusto once the food arrived, but his facial features were ever disturbing. His eyes roamed around the room in full circles, inspecting innocent diners out of the corners of his eyes. His paranoia was apparent; what exactly he feared I don't know but he looked ready to search everyone in the restaurant.
I was, howeverm aware that Gatsby was acting suspicious and was glad when he mentioned what happened that morning. I asked him why he felt he had to use Jordan Baker as a medium indteado f telling me straight away what he wants to. He answered casually that Jordan was a great athlete and she wouldn't do anything that wasn't right.
He then jumped up from the table and left, giving me a chance to further acquaint with Wolfshiem. I found out that Gatsby and he were longtime acquaintances and he definitely seemed to have a good impression of Gatsby. Wolfshiem had on a ridiculously flashy set of cufflinks made of human molars - yes, molars. A Jew with cufflinks made of teeth .. what a sight it made. He left almost immediately after Gatsby came back. Why I don't know, but I'm afraid it may have been something I said. He definitely left a great impression.
I later found out from Gatsby that Wolfshiem was the man who fixed the World Series back in '19. This was a lot to take in, as I always thought such things just happened; it seemed impossile to me how one man could tamper with the faith of a nation.
As I paid the bill the strangest thing happened. I noticed Tom Buchanan across the room - I thought it would be a good idea to introduce him to Gatsby, as I felt they were similar people. I did not have to approach him; it seemed that Bucahnaan had noticed me too and briskly walked towards us. I then proceeded to introduce Gatsby to him and as they were shaking hands a foreign look clouded over Gatsby's face, a look unlike any other I'd seen on him. The smile I'd come to expect was gone and an almost forced, faintly embarrassed look was in place. As I was exchanging some words with Tom I turned towards where Gatsby was moments ago; it seemed that he disappeared.
I was beyond confused. Did the two of them know each other? If so, Buchanan showed no sign of it. Perhaps he was just uncomfortable in the presence of a stranger? - clearly unlikely; his lavish parties are living proof of that. I will be meeting Jordan Baker later today; I shall ask if she knows why Gatsby was so unlike himself.
it's so baaaad ...
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Ryan's Late Diary Entry
Btw, I just found out that there is a korean drama named The Great Gatsby as well. It's kinda funny ...ahem...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The 28th of July was probably the starting point of my acquaintance with Gatsby. I was getting to know him better and indeed his background was shady and mysterious as i had expected. The word "expected" was quite an underestimation really, for Gatsby's fascinating acquaintance with the Jewish Mr Wolfshiem caught me off guard during lunch near the old Metropole.
We start off in his gorgeous car to New York and I initially thought that Gatsby was a perfect gentleman. How was i wrong: his straightforwardness startled and sometimes offended me. To my confession, at the beginning I did not believe his story of an Oxford man, but then he convinced me by showing his decoration with his name imprinted on it, it shows me that a character like this does really exist...
I carried the ' grudge' for Gatsby to lunch ( apparently, he arranged my date with Jordan so that she could talk about his backgrounds, which he avoided telling me) and there I met Mr Wolfshiem. He was a Jewish man about fifty years old and had a really long, pointed nose. The nose caught my attention more than anything, it was as if I was intimidated with the stealthiness of that feature. The shock came when Gatsby mentioned that this was the man that fixed the World's Series in 1919! I still had not fully comprehend nor understand why that man wasn't in jail. If Gatsby had not tell me, i would have believed that Mr Wolfshiem was somekind of renown dentist. Now that I recalled, the way he talked was a little odd, or rather fishy. He witnessed that assassination of Rosy Rosenthal, moreover, the guy was his friend. I sometimes wonder what kind of man Gatsby really is to be associated with this Mr Wolfshiem.
Indeed, there was somekind of businesses between Gatsby and him. He did mention me being the "man" but Gatsby denied so. At some point, I must ask Gatsby what this was about. Anyway, after that, Mr Wolfshiem's attitude changed into a more ferocious one. I wondered whether I had offended him in anyways. On the other hand, Gatsby did offend me again for talking about Jordan Baker and our date. It was annoying and intriguing that Gatsby would not tell his "histories" directly to me. Gatsby at some point hurried off to telephone leaving me with Mr Wolfshiem. Although i must recline all judgments, I found Mr Wolfshiem quite peculiar. There was the definition of sinister written across his face somehow and the cunning of his behavior, such as showing me the molars cuff buttons.
When he left, I was secretly relieved as talking to Gatsby was easier. After Gatsby revealed the shock details of Mr Wolfshiem, I wondered whether i would like to meet him ever again.
Later I caught sight of Tom Buchanan. He took his usual ferocious pace and walked straight to our tables. As we said hello, Hatsby had this odd expression, or rather, almost an embarrassment on his face. He was shy towards Tom, as if Tom was really intimidating? The moment Tom and me placed a second look on Gatsby, he was no longer there. He vanished out of sight. I found it strange, perhaps Gatsby didn't like Tom Buchanan? Or did they have some shady conflicts in the past? There was definitely a mystery behind Gatsby.
Note: Gatsby is fascinating to me. From this day, I would like to know more about him, perhaps from Jordan. Hmm..... I shall and can't wait.
Nick Carraway.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The 28th of July was probably the starting point of my acquaintance with Gatsby. I was getting to know him better and indeed his background was shady and mysterious as i had expected. The word "expected" was quite an underestimation really, for Gatsby's fascinating acquaintance with the Jewish Mr Wolfshiem caught me off guard during lunch near the old Metropole.
We start off in his gorgeous car to New York and I initially thought that Gatsby was a perfect gentleman. How was i wrong: his straightforwardness startled and sometimes offended me. To my confession, at the beginning I did not believe his story of an Oxford man, but then he convinced me by showing his decoration with his name imprinted on it, it shows me that a character like this does really exist...
I carried the ' grudge' for Gatsby to lunch ( apparently, he arranged my date with Jordan so that she could talk about his backgrounds, which he avoided telling me) and there I met Mr Wolfshiem. He was a Jewish man about fifty years old and had a really long, pointed nose. The nose caught my attention more than anything, it was as if I was intimidated with the stealthiness of that feature. The shock came when Gatsby mentioned that this was the man that fixed the World's Series in 1919! I still had not fully comprehend nor understand why that man wasn't in jail. If Gatsby had not tell me, i would have believed that Mr Wolfshiem was somekind of renown dentist. Now that I recalled, the way he talked was a little odd, or rather fishy. He witnessed that assassination of Rosy Rosenthal, moreover, the guy was his friend. I sometimes wonder what kind of man Gatsby really is to be associated with this Mr Wolfshiem.
Indeed, there was somekind of businesses between Gatsby and him. He did mention me being the "man" but Gatsby denied so. At some point, I must ask Gatsby what this was about. Anyway, after that, Mr Wolfshiem's attitude changed into a more ferocious one. I wondered whether I had offended him in anyways. On the other hand, Gatsby did offend me again for talking about Jordan Baker and our date. It was annoying and intriguing that Gatsby would not tell his "histories" directly to me. Gatsby at some point hurried off to telephone leaving me with Mr Wolfshiem. Although i must recline all judgments, I found Mr Wolfshiem quite peculiar. There was the definition of sinister written across his face somehow and the cunning of his behavior, such as showing me the molars cuff buttons.
When he left, I was secretly relieved as talking to Gatsby was easier. After Gatsby revealed the shock details of Mr Wolfshiem, I wondered whether i would like to meet him ever again.
Later I caught sight of Tom Buchanan. He took his usual ferocious pace and walked straight to our tables. As we said hello, Hatsby had this odd expression, or rather, almost an embarrassment on his face. He was shy towards Tom, as if Tom was really intimidating? The moment Tom and me placed a second look on Gatsby, he was no longer there. He vanished out of sight. I found it strange, perhaps Gatsby didn't like Tom Buchanan? Or did they have some shady conflicts in the past? There was definitely a mystery behind Gatsby.
Note: Gatsby is fascinating to me. From this day, I would like to know more about him, perhaps from Jordan. Hmm..... I shall and can't wait.
Nick Carraway.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Gatsby Film
Come on you lot- who would you cast in your ideal version of Gatsby? See Lien's post below.
Where would you set it? Are there any other relevant time periods to which the themes apply? Could it be updated or does it still need to be set in 1920s east coast America?
Thoughts below.
Don't worry- only about 45 hours until our English lesson- I can't wait....!
Where would you set it? Are there any other relevant time periods to which the themes apply? Could it be updated or does it still need to be set in 1920s east coast America?
Thoughts below.
Don't worry- only about 45 hours until our English lesson- I can't wait....!
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Sophia and Uyen
Girls- some excellent comments and thoughts on the diary entries: you two must be NIck Carraway experts by now!
Definitely worthy of receiving House Stickers upon your return to school.
Exciting, I know....
Definitely worthy of receiving House Stickers upon your return to school.
Exciting, I know....
Rhianne's Diary Entry
I didn't know we were supposed to do this because i was at fashion show rehersal but everyone else has so i assume we have too.
I got back from my holiday on Wednesday and I was too tired/busy to do it yesterday and I realised you cannot copy and paste it so i will have to type it all up again.
_____________________________________________________________________
Imagine that you are Nick Carraway describing you thoughts and feelings after the meal with Gatsby and Wolfshiem
Dear diary,
Today i had a very peculiar lunch with Gatsby because he formally introduced me to an old friend of his called Meyer Wolfshiem. Mr Wolfshiem is a Jewish man with a nose infested with hair; i have to be honest, he was an atrocious sight to look at. Although we did agree on one topic, how fantastic a man Gatsby is, and Mr Wolfshiem was raving about him. He also seemed to be repeating the university Gatsby attendened, I felt as if Mr Wolfshiem was trying to communicate something to me but i will dismiss it because he would have just told me in person if it was important. I did feel quite threatened by Mr Wolfshiem because he mentioned his human molar cuff buttons, Ibelieve he was sending me a silent message to beware of the business world and to especially not underestimate him. Mr Wolfshiem is the man who fixed the Wrld series in 1919and I will never comprehend the fact that he actually succeded in this and got away with it. I always assumed it was a group of men and I never suspected Mr Wolfshiem because he did not seem intellectual enough to accomplish that, I mean he can't even pronounce Oxford correct! Gatsby told me it was true so it must be because i believe i am one of the few people he actually trusts. Mr Wolfshiem told Gatsby and I an anecdoteof a friend who got shot, but what i found disturbing was the fact that as soon as he was done telling the story he did not shed any upset emotion towards his friend and goes straight into talking about business; I thought he would be more humane to at least acknowledge his friend that was murdered. I do wonder how a brute man like Mr Wolfshiem is friends with dear old Gatsby; i guess i will never know. However i feel i must like Mr Wolfshiem due to the fact that he is Gatsbys friennd and i can't judge him on first impressions, I think I must get to know Mr Wolfshiem better to appreciate him like Gatsby does.
I have to say my original impression of Gasby has changed slightly due to this lunch because firstly he took us to 'The Old Metropole' which i have to admit, is a bit down market compared to the other elabourate places I have been to with Gatsby. Secondly Gatsby seemed to be a bit more...jittery and jumpy? At one point he leaped up from his chair and rushed away to take a phone call, he didn't even excuse himeself! He must have had too much coffee this morning to be acting that worked up.
Also when Tom Buchanan arrived at the shabby place we were eating at, Gatsby didn't even stay to chat with Tom, quite rude really, I didn't expect him to act that ill-mannered. I don't think they have ever met before so i'm sure it was nothing to do with Tom, well as i pre-mentioned Gatsby was acting a bit on edge that lunch. Tom didn't seem to mind Gatsby disappearing, Im sure Tom is used to it because of his intimidating body and arrogant personality, although Im not sure how Daisy can stand him, I definitely can't.
So overall today Ifound Mr Wolfshiem an eccentric character because I definitely underestimated his capabilities and overall attitude. I believe Gatsby was stressed out that lunch and he didn't seem to be completely focusing on the discussion and was very anxious. There must be a liable reason to it though.
Well Ithink I will invite Jordan out for dinner tonight because as iv mentioned before, we seem to be getting rather close lately.
I got back from my holiday on Wednesday and I was too tired/busy to do it yesterday and I realised you cannot copy and paste it so i will have to type it all up again.
_____________________________________________________________________
Imagine that you are Nick Carraway describing you thoughts and feelings after the meal with Gatsby and Wolfshiem
Dear diary,
Today i had a very peculiar lunch with Gatsby because he formally introduced me to an old friend of his called Meyer Wolfshiem. Mr Wolfshiem is a Jewish man with a nose infested with hair; i have to be honest, he was an atrocious sight to look at. Although we did agree on one topic, how fantastic a man Gatsby is, and Mr Wolfshiem was raving about him. He also seemed to be repeating the university Gatsby attendened, I felt as if Mr Wolfshiem was trying to communicate something to me but i will dismiss it because he would have just told me in person if it was important. I did feel quite threatened by Mr Wolfshiem because he mentioned his human molar cuff buttons, Ibelieve he was sending me a silent message to beware of the business world and to especially not underestimate him. Mr Wolfshiem is the man who fixed the Wrld series in 1919and I will never comprehend the fact that he actually succeded in this and got away with it. I always assumed it was a group of men and I never suspected Mr Wolfshiem because he did not seem intellectual enough to accomplish that, I mean he can't even pronounce Oxford correct! Gatsby told me it was true so it must be because i believe i am one of the few people he actually trusts. Mr Wolfshiem told Gatsby and I an anecdoteof a friend who got shot, but what i found disturbing was the fact that as soon as he was done telling the story he did not shed any upset emotion towards his friend and goes straight into talking about business; I thought he would be more humane to at least acknowledge his friend that was murdered. I do wonder how a brute man like Mr Wolfshiem is friends with dear old Gatsby; i guess i will never know. However i feel i must like Mr Wolfshiem due to the fact that he is Gatsbys friennd and i can't judge him on first impressions, I think I must get to know Mr Wolfshiem better to appreciate him like Gatsby does.
I have to say my original impression of Gasby has changed slightly due to this lunch because firstly he took us to 'The Old Metropole' which i have to admit, is a bit down market compared to the other elabourate places I have been to with Gatsby. Secondly Gatsby seemed to be a bit more...jittery and jumpy? At one point he leaped up from his chair and rushed away to take a phone call, he didn't even excuse himeself! He must have had too much coffee this morning to be acting that worked up.
Also when Tom Buchanan arrived at the shabby place we were eating at, Gatsby didn't even stay to chat with Tom, quite rude really, I didn't expect him to act that ill-mannered. I don't think they have ever met before so i'm sure it was nothing to do with Tom, well as i pre-mentioned Gatsby was acting a bit on edge that lunch. Tom didn't seem to mind Gatsby disappearing, Im sure Tom is used to it because of his intimidating body and arrogant personality, although Im not sure how Daisy can stand him, I definitely can't.
So overall today Ifound Mr Wolfshiem an eccentric character because I definitely underestimated his capabilities and overall attitude. I believe Gatsby was stressed out that lunch and he didn't seem to be completely focusing on the discussion and was very anxious. There must be a liable reason to it though.
Well Ithink I will invite Jordan out for dinner tonight because as iv mentioned before, we seem to be getting rather close lately.
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