"Let's break up"
"Why?"
"You are always so hard to reach. I mean look around us. Where can you find a man without a phone these days? I didn't think I would mind at first but...now its al-"
"Alright"
In a world where love came to be from words on a screen, without a face.
There is the man without a phone sitting in a coffee shop.
The very first love of his life, the girl of his dreams transformed into a shallow caricature of society's desires.
Or did he think like that because he thought she was so beautiful?
Even as she left he could not stop the throbbing in his heart, mind and sex.
Yet he had always been prepared to say goodbye.
She had always been popular.
Guys would call her, text her, chat with her, hug her, yearn for her.
But the man without a phone thought that even without a burning passion, without overwhelming wealth that there lies something that rendered all the realities of the world unreal.
But of course, it's not without reason that the man without a phone threw away his phone.
Showing posts with label Story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Story. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Friday, November 9, 2007
A Continuing Myth
*NOTE: Sorry Ms. Jess, but here's to another story! I just couldn't put myself up to think of a new topic, so here's just a simple extended Norse myth that was supposed to be a sort of 'sequel' to a previous, more interesting, story. So again, sorry if it sucks, but I wrote it a few years back as well, and when I tried editing it, I found it nearly impossible to make the plot line and grammar better!!!*
Up north where the wind blows and fades, where the snow whirls in the morning breeze, there sat on top of mountains a garden filled with luscious fruits. The garden, which was situated above the great waterfall of the gods, was tended by two unlikely spiritual warriors. Punished for murdering the giant Ymir and for their treachery against their brother, Odin, Vili and Ve were charged with the protection of the isolated paradise with their lives as the fruits yielded within would wield immortality for the greater gods. If ever used for bitter evilness, the consequences would be severe and just.
Time continued on, passing centuries upon centuries, the brothers left in peace to serve their time as was decided, and waiting for when their freedom would once again become a reality. In the middle of snow-covered trees and frozen lakes, one winter evening, the goddess Idun appeared out of a sudden fog to keep watch over the mischievous young gods. She was careful not to disturb the unusual silence that surrounded the atmosphere, gently glancing at the skies and hovering above the snowed grounds of the garden. Her face was shining and alive with song, her complexion glowing, her eyes deep in years and immortality. The goddess was mistress of the garden; her subjects worshipped her as the goddess of youthfulness and life, her golden figure giving light and vigour.
Idun then called Vili and Ve’s names not once but twice, yet none answered her voice. She sensed that they were again jesting with her to test her patience, knowing full well that she was simply there to ensure that the twins were not attempting any mischief which would destroy their beloved paradise. She smiled softly and went in search for them, her breath visible in the cold weather, floating in swirls as the wind would take them. She felt the soft gust of snow beneath her feet and the wind whistling through the opening gaps of the trees, but she did not yet caught sign of the two gods.
Idun was about to give up the search, preparing to leave to report to Odin that the brothers were not serving their due, when a sudden scream penetrated through the air. After a few moments, the scream was followed by what seemed like a shrill bird’s cry that shattered the glass of stillness that existed in the area. Idun ran to the direction of the shrill shriek, in fear that the two gods have done something they would regret. She stumbled across loose vines and leaves that scattered itself on the ground but she kept going still.
Very soon after, she came upon a white open field that was covered in snow. She would have admired its beauty and light that was reflected by the sun, but she saw a colour that sent chills down her spine. Blood spattered the ground; muddy tracks were flung in every direction and it dawned to the now-pale goddess, in growing horror, that a heavy and long struggle had taken place not too long ago. She scrambled up the hills to where the blood had been poured but yet she still saw either Vili or Ve.
Screams and shouts were again heard incessantly and were making such a commotion that in no time, other gods and goddesses of the earth came forth to find out what the garden was in such a chaos for. When they arrived at the plains and open fields, they saw Idun's vague figure swaying back and forth in weariness from afar, her lone shadow covered the fields. As she swooned and fell unconscious into the snow, they all rushed to her side.
When Odin, the brother whom Vili and Ve had betrayed, scanned the fields, stained in red colour, he ordered his best men to search the garden to find the two tenders that were missing. With no new news that appeared then later, Odin traveled by himself to edge of the garden where a fountain was located so that he may ponder at what they could do next in an attempt to find his missing brothers.
The fountain was spewing clear fresh water that created peaceful rhythms of sounds that echoed the lonely forest of trees. Odin sat underneath a mighty oak tree to gaze at the water and a mysterious raven that perched itself on a gate across from him. The raven was elegant and yet sly and cunning. He percieved this knowledge through the way it moved its head from side to side, cautiously guiding its eyes toward him. Odin shifted uncomfortably underneath the tree and contemplated at what the thing truly concealed in its dark mind. Time ticked away, Odin slowly surrendering to the soft ryhtmic swish of the leaves above him, and the raven was soon forgotten as his eyelids began to droop steeply. He leaned his head against the tree and soon fell into deep slumber.
The raven, now realizing that its time had come, swooped down fiercely, its beak pointing toward the god’s heart, fully intending for it to pierce through the god's soul. However, it had forgotten that Odin was wise and strong. It also had failed to recall that the spear the god had taken with him was still in his hands. Odin, already perceiving what would take place, jumped up from the ground, and with a flick of his wrist, the spear flew from his fingers, whistling defeaningly through the air.
The spear now lodged into the left wing of the raven and the thing was quickly pinned into a nearby wall by the force of the impact. It struggled to get free, but it was too late. Odin, in his fury, with his bare hands, snatched the head of the bird and pulled on it with such strength that it soon broke away from its body! Odin was about to tear the other pieces of the creature off when he saw instead of red blood, he saw another head that indeed belonged to a giantess! The raven cloak that draped from her shoulders slid down to reveal her true self.
Odin staggered, surpised by who he viewed now before him, though as the moment passed he resumed his fury, directed toward the one whose presence was scorned and condemned since Idun's devastating kidnapping attempt.
“To what right have you to be here!” Odin demanded of her.
“I have every right! I once had the power, I once had a father, but you took all that away! Give me my leave and I will never disturb your wretched peace again!” She replied back with vehemence.
“What have you done to my brothers?” Odin pushed his hands against her neck and continued to squeeze it until it was all she could do but choke.
“Why should you care?” She felt even more pressure that surrounded her neck, her face growing red from suffocation.
“Where are they? Tell me now or you would regret that you have not!”
“I would rather abandon my life than my revenge and my pride!”
“I can hardly believe you!” Odin continued to squeeze her throat mercilessly, but by then the giantess had her fill of torture.
“I’ll tell! I’ll tell, just leave me be!” She felt beads of tears that stung her eyes from the pain inflicted upon her.
Odin released her neck but kept a steady gaze on her face. Her eyes were red from her tears and her grotesque face turned a lighter shade of purple as she gasped for breath. She carefully told him of where she had placed his brothers once she regained her composure.
“Go and retrieve the dead! I have failed to carry out the avenging of my father’s death, but I can still see that I have caused you pain. To that I salute myself and to that I mock and pity you!” She let out an odious laugh that resonated through the mountains and Odin backed away in disgust. The other gods have gathered near after what they have heard from afar, and Odin told them of where they could go and retrieve his brothers.
“Skadi, you will pay for your insolence and bitter rivalry to the great gods of the earth!” Odin scowled at her when the other gods left.
“You killed my father Thiazi and you took away Idun back to this despicable garden! I have already endured much damage and my life is now hardly worth the living, and still you wish to punish me?”
“You have offended and murdered in bloody abhorrence, my brothers and fellow gods. For what you have done selfishly, cruelly, and brutally, you will pay seven times fold! “
When the other gods returned, they wrapped Vili and Ve’s bodies in white linen cloth. Odin then officially, with his power and authority, banished Skadi to the Land of the Undead because she had murdered two gods of the earth, and was imprudent enough to try to steal the fruits that gave the gods life. She also made a murder attempt on the highest god of all realms and so Odin overshadowed her with a curse that would haunt her children for years to come. Her children and generations would all die early or succumb to long and painful deaths at her expense. Skadi was condemned by the greater gods to never rest or die in peace until she repay for her deeds that affected many others in this world.
As for Vili and Ve, they were buried in the garden in which they have worked, guarded, and slept in. Their bodies now lie in the corner of the fountain beneath the mighty oak tree in a pit in which Skadi had flung them into. In time, another tree grew on their graves and since then, the white and pure tree symbolized sacrifice and repentance for mortals and gods alike in honour of Vili and Ve and their fight for their loyalty.
*...Told u it was bad :)*
Up north where the wind blows and fades, where the snow whirls in the morning breeze, there sat on top of mountains a garden filled with luscious fruits. The garden, which was situated above the great waterfall of the gods, was tended by two unlikely spiritual warriors. Punished for murdering the giant Ymir and for their treachery against their brother, Odin, Vili and Ve were charged with the protection of the isolated paradise with their lives as the fruits yielded within would wield immortality for the greater gods. If ever used for bitter evilness, the consequences would be severe and just.
Time continued on, passing centuries upon centuries, the brothers left in peace to serve their time as was decided, and waiting for when their freedom would once again become a reality. In the middle of snow-covered trees and frozen lakes, one winter evening, the goddess Idun appeared out of a sudden fog to keep watch over the mischievous young gods. She was careful not to disturb the unusual silence that surrounded the atmosphere, gently glancing at the skies and hovering above the snowed grounds of the garden. Her face was shining and alive with song, her complexion glowing, her eyes deep in years and immortality. The goddess was mistress of the garden; her subjects worshipped her as the goddess of youthfulness and life, her golden figure giving light and vigour.
Idun then called Vili and Ve’s names not once but twice, yet none answered her voice. She sensed that they were again jesting with her to test her patience, knowing full well that she was simply there to ensure that the twins were not attempting any mischief which would destroy their beloved paradise. She smiled softly and went in search for them, her breath visible in the cold weather, floating in swirls as the wind would take them. She felt the soft gust of snow beneath her feet and the wind whistling through the opening gaps of the trees, but she did not yet caught sign of the two gods.
Idun was about to give up the search, preparing to leave to report to Odin that the brothers were not serving their due, when a sudden scream penetrated through the air. After a few moments, the scream was followed by what seemed like a shrill bird’s cry that shattered the glass of stillness that existed in the area. Idun ran to the direction of the shrill shriek, in fear that the two gods have done something they would regret. She stumbled across loose vines and leaves that scattered itself on the ground but she kept going still.
Very soon after, she came upon a white open field that was covered in snow. She would have admired its beauty and light that was reflected by the sun, but she saw a colour that sent chills down her spine. Blood spattered the ground; muddy tracks were flung in every direction and it dawned to the now-pale goddess, in growing horror, that a heavy and long struggle had taken place not too long ago. She scrambled up the hills to where the blood had been poured but yet she still saw either Vili or Ve.
Screams and shouts were again heard incessantly and were making such a commotion that in no time, other gods and goddesses of the earth came forth to find out what the garden was in such a chaos for. When they arrived at the plains and open fields, they saw Idun's vague figure swaying back and forth in weariness from afar, her lone shadow covered the fields. As she swooned and fell unconscious into the snow, they all rushed to her side.
When Odin, the brother whom Vili and Ve had betrayed, scanned the fields, stained in red colour, he ordered his best men to search the garden to find the two tenders that were missing. With no new news that appeared then later, Odin traveled by himself to edge of the garden where a fountain was located so that he may ponder at what they could do next in an attempt to find his missing brothers.
The fountain was spewing clear fresh water that created peaceful rhythms of sounds that echoed the lonely forest of trees. Odin sat underneath a mighty oak tree to gaze at the water and a mysterious raven that perched itself on a gate across from him. The raven was elegant and yet sly and cunning. He percieved this knowledge through the way it moved its head from side to side, cautiously guiding its eyes toward him. Odin shifted uncomfortably underneath the tree and contemplated at what the thing truly concealed in its dark mind. Time ticked away, Odin slowly surrendering to the soft ryhtmic swish of the leaves above him, and the raven was soon forgotten as his eyelids began to droop steeply. He leaned his head against the tree and soon fell into deep slumber.
The raven, now realizing that its time had come, swooped down fiercely, its beak pointing toward the god’s heart, fully intending for it to pierce through the god's soul. However, it had forgotten that Odin was wise and strong. It also had failed to recall that the spear the god had taken with him was still in his hands. Odin, already perceiving what would take place, jumped up from the ground, and with a flick of his wrist, the spear flew from his fingers, whistling defeaningly through the air.
The spear now lodged into the left wing of the raven and the thing was quickly pinned into a nearby wall by the force of the impact. It struggled to get free, but it was too late. Odin, in his fury, with his bare hands, snatched the head of the bird and pulled on it with such strength that it soon broke away from its body! Odin was about to tear the other pieces of the creature off when he saw instead of red blood, he saw another head that indeed belonged to a giantess! The raven cloak that draped from her shoulders slid down to reveal her true self.
Odin staggered, surpised by who he viewed now before him, though as the moment passed he resumed his fury, directed toward the one whose presence was scorned and condemned since Idun's devastating kidnapping attempt.
“To what right have you to be here!” Odin demanded of her.
“I have every right! I once had the power, I once had a father, but you took all that away! Give me my leave and I will never disturb your wretched peace again!” She replied back with vehemence.
“What have you done to my brothers?” Odin pushed his hands against her neck and continued to squeeze it until it was all she could do but choke.
“Why should you care?” She felt even more pressure that surrounded her neck, her face growing red from suffocation.
“Where are they? Tell me now or you would regret that you have not!”
“I would rather abandon my life than my revenge and my pride!”
“I can hardly believe you!” Odin continued to squeeze her throat mercilessly, but by then the giantess had her fill of torture.
“I’ll tell! I’ll tell, just leave me be!” She felt beads of tears that stung her eyes from the pain inflicted upon her.
Odin released her neck but kept a steady gaze on her face. Her eyes were red from her tears and her grotesque face turned a lighter shade of purple as she gasped for breath. She carefully told him of where she had placed his brothers once she regained her composure.
“Go and retrieve the dead! I have failed to carry out the avenging of my father’s death, but I can still see that I have caused you pain. To that I salute myself and to that I mock and pity you!” She let out an odious laugh that resonated through the mountains and Odin backed away in disgust. The other gods have gathered near after what they have heard from afar, and Odin told them of where they could go and retrieve his brothers.
“Skadi, you will pay for your insolence and bitter rivalry to the great gods of the earth!” Odin scowled at her when the other gods left.
“You killed my father Thiazi and you took away Idun back to this despicable garden! I have already endured much damage and my life is now hardly worth the living, and still you wish to punish me?”
“You have offended and murdered in bloody abhorrence, my brothers and fellow gods. For what you have done selfishly, cruelly, and brutally, you will pay seven times fold! “
When the other gods returned, they wrapped Vili and Ve’s bodies in white linen cloth. Odin then officially, with his power and authority, banished Skadi to the Land of the Undead because she had murdered two gods of the earth, and was imprudent enough to try to steal the fruits that gave the gods life. She also made a murder attempt on the highest god of all realms and so Odin overshadowed her with a curse that would haunt her children for years to come. Her children and generations would all die early or succumb to long and painful deaths at her expense. Skadi was condemned by the greater gods to never rest or die in peace until she repay for her deeds that affected many others in this world.
As for Vili and Ve, they were buried in the garden in which they have worked, guarded, and slept in. Their bodies now lie in the corner of the fountain beneath the mighty oak tree in a pit in which Skadi had flung them into. In time, another tree grew on their graves and since then, the white and pure tree symbolized sacrifice and repentance for mortals and gods alike in honour of Vili and Ve and their fight for their loyalty.
*...Told u it was bad :)*
Saturday, November 3, 2007
The LONG Drabbling of a Bored Blogger :)
*NOTE: Not to be marked! I just posted this for fun and, for the record, I WILL write another blog next week for grading! Yea, this was just something I made up a couple of years ago, and it was supposed to be the beginning of something bigger...but i avoided it for a long time, so it never got anywhere. Anyway, enjoy! Maybe i'll seriously work on it later on during Christmas Break :)
Snow was steadily falling off the sky. Fifteen-year old Troy was sitting down beside the fireplace for warmth. His auburn hair was darker than usual and his shadow was dancing on the walls. Usually, during the cold Canadian winter, it seemed as if the mountains were more dangerous and mighty. The trees rustled its leaves violently from the whistling winds of the North. The windows rattled from the blizzard outside.
Troy stood up, stretched, and then circled around the living room to admire its old history and what it concealed in mystery. The room was decorated in joyful colours of green and red; a Christmas tree stood smugly in the centre. Mounds of gifts were underneath its stand. Troy sighed contently and slumped backward abruptly in his grandfather’s old armchair and let himself drift in and off of sleep. This pattern of habit continued for several more minutes until he heard someone calling his name from afar.
“Troy, where are you?” A female voice rang from the upstairs bedroom, and interrupted his dreamy slumber. Troy heard thudding footsteps coming toward him and felt a gentle shake on his shoulder indicating that he should wake up.
Troy opened his sleepy eyes, stood up and stretched his arms once more toward the ceiling. He looked at Liane, his best friend who came with her family to spend the Christmas vacation with him. She was wearing her favourite white sweater and creamy snow pants that contrasted greatly the warm colours that were reflected in the living room. He thought that she looked more like a snow-woman.
Liane’s hair was cut up to her shoulders that summer and she decided obstinately to keep it that way for the rest of her life. She was also thinking of getting it highlighted this winter if she can convince her parents, but so far, it hadn’t worked. Troy would always roll his eyes at her persistent pestering when she wanted something done and would always stalk off in frustration in finding that her tactics worked every time. He smiled, though, at knowing that her parents weren’t caving into her demands this time.
“Get rid of your sweater, Lee. It’s hot as it is inside this cabin,” He remarked grudgingly.
Liane shrugged and took it off, revealing a long sleeved turtleneck that was decorated with beads. She then smiled and twirled about the room and sat beneath the Christmas tree, toying with an ornament as light danced in her eyes. Troy sighed and stood up, and was about to walk into the kitchen for a glass of water when Liane turned around and caught his attention.
“Hey, why don’t we go searching in the attic? I’m tired of sitting around in front of the window upstairs counting snowflakes. I’ve reached to 200 and I feel like sleeping now,” She said, exasperated by the fact that she was bored.
“You were WHAT? Counting the…Do you need to lie down or something?” Troy raised his eyebrows. He knew that Liane was notorious for her quirky personality but most of the time he wished that she tuned her enthusiasm down a notch. He had gotten into too much trouble from before thanks to his wacko buddy.
“No, I don’t, so don’t try to act like a babysitter, Troy! Anyway, do you realize now just how bored I am? I just have to explore, I have to move around! This cabin belonged to your great- grand parents, right? Since they’re dead and all, why can’t we just snoop around a bit? Otherwise, we’re in for another dull Christmas.” She rushed to the stairs before Troy could object to her plan. He sighed and followed her. He might as well stare at the windows in the attic than gag while watching his twin sister flirt with Liane’s brothers in the kitchen.
The cabin had two floors, excluding the attic which had a built-in trap door that was inserted in the ceiling. It was built over a century ago, and it made creaks and groans during the night. It was made entirely out of wood except for the fairly recent restoration of the four bedrooms on the second floor. The cabin kept many secrets that were hidden during all its years in this region. Both Liane and Troy knew this, but they've never really gone through the trouble of trying to figure it out. It had been five years since they visited this old mansion and they felt that it was childish to play hide and seek during a winter’s day like they would have done many years ago. Troy never thought of exploring in the attic. The idea always seemed absurd and beyond what he knew he may do.
That is, until Liane came.
“You sure you want to go up there? I mean there could be spiders and dead animals and probably a couple of ghosts-“
“Troy, you better shut that big mouth of yours before I give you another black eye.” Liane threatened with her fist. Troy remained in silence after he received the threat, knowing her potential to cripple a grown man through her ten year experience with judo.
Liane and Troy walked quietly up the stairs and into the hallway. Troy saw a piece of string hanging down from the ceiling and pulled on it. Liane helped him and another staircase was lowered. The two friends walked into the attic, cautious to make no noise left they disturb their parents. As they did, they were hit with mounds of tumbling dust and an odious odour that reached up their noses and into their mouths as they tried to breathe. Liane started to cough violently.
“Oh man, it’s like a wave of smoke just toppled over us!” Liane coughed some more as she stepped even deeper into attic. She nearly tripped over a small box in front of her.
“No really?” Troy lifted the staircase from the top and snapped it shut.
Troy looked around at the room that he was in and sighed. It was filled with the usual amounts of trunks, boxes and absolute darkness. Liane wandered to the corners of the attic, feeling the wood while walking. Troy was inspecting the odd things he kept bumping into. First it was a sort of mannequin draped in white cloth, which he thought was a ghost. Then, a chest that he tripped over while walking (and the one that he had subsequently found empty). Finally, he bumped into Liane.
“Watch where you’re going, Troy, you maniac!’ She whispered to him savagely.
“Sorry, but you have big feet! Man, I should have brought a flashlight or something,” Troy said regretfully. He looked at Liane as she scoured around for antiques. Apparently, she didn’t listen.
He saw her shadows casting on the wooden walls from the dim light coming from the window. Finally, he saw her hand reaching out for a wood panel. He groaned and knew that any second, she’d come screaming-
“Troy! TROY! I’ve found something!” She shouted.
He sighed and walked over to her. He peered at her face but could only receive a vague outline of her figure, “What is it now?”
“Troy, I think the walls are hollow! I was tapping along the panels to the rhythm of a song that’s stuck in my head and this part of the room sound empty! Listen! ’ Liane said with excitement. She began to tap the wood slowly, as if to let the sound echo throughout the room. Troy peered at his friend and shook his head slowly.
“I don’t hear anything.”
“What? How can you not realize that the wall’s hollow? Listen again!” Liane knocked on the wall softly, and watched as Troy raised his eyebrows. He placed his hands on his hips and stared at the wooden panel. He noticed that several scarps of paper were sticking out of the wall.
“I heard it, Lee. But I don’t think that it’s really hollow. There may not be any secret compartment inside, like I knew you expected. It may just as well be missing insulation,” Troy shook his head once again, and was about to explore another section of the room when Liane tugged at his shirt which signalled that she wasn’t about to give up her audience so easily.
“Then how do you explain the papers on the walls? There has to be something behind it! Look, Troy, the papers looked as if they have words written on them!” Liane stood tall and waited to be presented with an argument.
Troy shook his head and felt the loose papers with his fingers, “I don’t think we should touch it. It looked as if whoever put it there wanted to keep it a secret. Well, let’s honour that wish and leave it alone.”
“Troy, I know that they’re only papers, but I have a feeling that it’s more than that. C’mon, let’s just pry the wood open because I’m going to regret it if I don’t!”
“Yeah, I could save you a whole lot of trouble right now by telling you that it’s nothing, all right! You’re fooling yourself again. We’re going to get into trouble with our parents and we might never come back for vacation! Think of the consequences if we mess this up!”
“Troy, I know I’m pretty drastic-“
“Not to mention impetuous,” He interrupted her graciously while folding his arms against his chest, his eyebrows raised in curiosity.
“But this can start us off in wild adventure! I can just feel it in my bones! Even you agreed that this Christmas vacation is going to be so boring! Didn’t I hear you complaining this morning about wanting to do something exciting?” Liane’s eyes shone and her enthusiasm made her vibrant and eager more than anything.
‘Adventure’, Troy thought slowly as he tried to analyze the situation, 'is the exact thing that I don’t need right now! Then again, this might be our ticket out of our usual, non-eventful Christmas…’ Troy eyed her carefully and scratched his chin as he always did when he tried to think of a decision.
“C’mon, Troy! I’m just dying to see what’s inside these panels!”
“Well, my parents did say that they want to renovate the attic in the summer. I guess they won’t mind some missing insulation.” He shrugged and reluctantly relented to his friend’s puppyish pouts.
“’Kay then, let’s start taking off some of the loose boards around it.”
“Wait a minute, Lee. I didn’t mean that we can start now. It’s ten at night and our parents, not to mention my snooping sister and your annoying college brothers, are all in the kitchen, and they can hear us if we do anything desperate. Let’s do it in the morning when they’re outside skiing or something. Besides, we’ll have time to grab some tools tomorrow when we’re all awake and thinking properly.”
“Troy, are you implying that I’m not ‘thinking properly’ at the moment? If you think I’m going to change my mind after tomorrow, you’re seriously wrong!” Her eyes started to swell and widen. Her fists were at her side, but Troy quickly avoided an unnecessary bruise.
“I didn’t mean that. I mean we would all be fresh and ready to take on this project after we get a good night’s rest. Now, come on. I’m going to get some hot chocolate before bed, how about it?” Troy waved his hand invitingly, but when Liane shook her head, he shrugged, and soon his head disappeared beneath the staircases.
Liane stood frozen for a few minutes, and after making sure that Troy was gone, took out a slip of paper from her jean pocket. She studied it carefully and then slowly smiled with growing determination. Exhilaration flowed through her veins and her heart pounded against her chest. Everything would go according to plan! It just had to!
Snow was steadily falling off the sky. Fifteen-year old Troy was sitting down beside the fireplace for warmth. His auburn hair was darker than usual and his shadow was dancing on the walls. Usually, during the cold Canadian winter, it seemed as if the mountains were more dangerous and mighty. The trees rustled its leaves violently from the whistling winds of the North. The windows rattled from the blizzard outside.
Troy stood up, stretched, and then circled around the living room to admire its old history and what it concealed in mystery. The room was decorated in joyful colours of green and red; a Christmas tree stood smugly in the centre. Mounds of gifts were underneath its stand. Troy sighed contently and slumped backward abruptly in his grandfather’s old armchair and let himself drift in and off of sleep. This pattern of habit continued for several more minutes until he heard someone calling his name from afar.
“Troy, where are you?” A female voice rang from the upstairs bedroom, and interrupted his dreamy slumber. Troy heard thudding footsteps coming toward him and felt a gentle shake on his shoulder indicating that he should wake up.
Troy opened his sleepy eyes, stood up and stretched his arms once more toward the ceiling. He looked at Liane, his best friend who came with her family to spend the Christmas vacation with him. She was wearing her favourite white sweater and creamy snow pants that contrasted greatly the warm colours that were reflected in the living room. He thought that she looked more like a snow-woman.
Liane’s hair was cut up to her shoulders that summer and she decided obstinately to keep it that way for the rest of her life. She was also thinking of getting it highlighted this winter if she can convince her parents, but so far, it hadn’t worked. Troy would always roll his eyes at her persistent pestering when she wanted something done and would always stalk off in frustration in finding that her tactics worked every time. He smiled, though, at knowing that her parents weren’t caving into her demands this time.
“Get rid of your sweater, Lee. It’s hot as it is inside this cabin,” He remarked grudgingly.
Liane shrugged and took it off, revealing a long sleeved turtleneck that was decorated with beads. She then smiled and twirled about the room and sat beneath the Christmas tree, toying with an ornament as light danced in her eyes. Troy sighed and stood up, and was about to walk into the kitchen for a glass of water when Liane turned around and caught his attention.
“Hey, why don’t we go searching in the attic? I’m tired of sitting around in front of the window upstairs counting snowflakes. I’ve reached to 200 and I feel like sleeping now,” She said, exasperated by the fact that she was bored.
“You were WHAT? Counting the…Do you need to lie down or something?” Troy raised his eyebrows. He knew that Liane was notorious for her quirky personality but most of the time he wished that she tuned her enthusiasm down a notch. He had gotten into too much trouble from before thanks to his wacko buddy.
“No, I don’t, so don’t try to act like a babysitter, Troy! Anyway, do you realize now just how bored I am? I just have to explore, I have to move around! This cabin belonged to your great- grand parents, right? Since they’re dead and all, why can’t we just snoop around a bit? Otherwise, we’re in for another dull Christmas.” She rushed to the stairs before Troy could object to her plan. He sighed and followed her. He might as well stare at the windows in the attic than gag while watching his twin sister flirt with Liane’s brothers in the kitchen.
The cabin had two floors, excluding the attic which had a built-in trap door that was inserted in the ceiling. It was built over a century ago, and it made creaks and groans during the night. It was made entirely out of wood except for the fairly recent restoration of the four bedrooms on the second floor. The cabin kept many secrets that were hidden during all its years in this region. Both Liane and Troy knew this, but they've never really gone through the trouble of trying to figure it out. It had been five years since they visited this old mansion and they felt that it was childish to play hide and seek during a winter’s day like they would have done many years ago. Troy never thought of exploring in the attic. The idea always seemed absurd and beyond what he knew he may do.
That is, until Liane came.
“You sure you want to go up there? I mean there could be spiders and dead animals and probably a couple of ghosts-“
“Troy, you better shut that big mouth of yours before I give you another black eye.” Liane threatened with her fist. Troy remained in silence after he received the threat, knowing her potential to cripple a grown man through her ten year experience with judo.
Liane and Troy walked quietly up the stairs and into the hallway. Troy saw a piece of string hanging down from the ceiling and pulled on it. Liane helped him and another staircase was lowered. The two friends walked into the attic, cautious to make no noise left they disturb their parents. As they did, they were hit with mounds of tumbling dust and an odious odour that reached up their noses and into their mouths as they tried to breathe. Liane started to cough violently.
“Oh man, it’s like a wave of smoke just toppled over us!” Liane coughed some more as she stepped even deeper into attic. She nearly tripped over a small box in front of her.
“No really?” Troy lifted the staircase from the top and snapped it shut.
Troy looked around at the room that he was in and sighed. It was filled with the usual amounts of trunks, boxes and absolute darkness. Liane wandered to the corners of the attic, feeling the wood while walking. Troy was inspecting the odd things he kept bumping into. First it was a sort of mannequin draped in white cloth, which he thought was a ghost. Then, a chest that he tripped over while walking (and the one that he had subsequently found empty). Finally, he bumped into Liane.
“Watch where you’re going, Troy, you maniac!’ She whispered to him savagely.
“Sorry, but you have big feet! Man, I should have brought a flashlight or something,” Troy said regretfully. He looked at Liane as she scoured around for antiques. Apparently, she didn’t listen.
He saw her shadows casting on the wooden walls from the dim light coming from the window. Finally, he saw her hand reaching out for a wood panel. He groaned and knew that any second, she’d come screaming-
“Troy! TROY! I’ve found something!” She shouted.
He sighed and walked over to her. He peered at her face but could only receive a vague outline of her figure, “What is it now?”
“Troy, I think the walls are hollow! I was tapping along the panels to the rhythm of a song that’s stuck in my head and this part of the room sound empty! Listen! ’ Liane said with excitement. She began to tap the wood slowly, as if to let the sound echo throughout the room. Troy peered at his friend and shook his head slowly.
“I don’t hear anything.”
“What? How can you not realize that the wall’s hollow? Listen again!” Liane knocked on the wall softly, and watched as Troy raised his eyebrows. He placed his hands on his hips and stared at the wooden panel. He noticed that several scarps of paper were sticking out of the wall.
“I heard it, Lee. But I don’t think that it’s really hollow. There may not be any secret compartment inside, like I knew you expected. It may just as well be missing insulation,” Troy shook his head once again, and was about to explore another section of the room when Liane tugged at his shirt which signalled that she wasn’t about to give up her audience so easily.
“Then how do you explain the papers on the walls? There has to be something behind it! Look, Troy, the papers looked as if they have words written on them!” Liane stood tall and waited to be presented with an argument.
Troy shook his head and felt the loose papers with his fingers, “I don’t think we should touch it. It looked as if whoever put it there wanted to keep it a secret. Well, let’s honour that wish and leave it alone.”
“Troy, I know that they’re only papers, but I have a feeling that it’s more than that. C’mon, let’s just pry the wood open because I’m going to regret it if I don’t!”
“Yeah, I could save you a whole lot of trouble right now by telling you that it’s nothing, all right! You’re fooling yourself again. We’re going to get into trouble with our parents and we might never come back for vacation! Think of the consequences if we mess this up!”
“Troy, I know I’m pretty drastic-“
“Not to mention impetuous,” He interrupted her graciously while folding his arms against his chest, his eyebrows raised in curiosity.
“But this can start us off in wild adventure! I can just feel it in my bones! Even you agreed that this Christmas vacation is going to be so boring! Didn’t I hear you complaining this morning about wanting to do something exciting?” Liane’s eyes shone and her enthusiasm made her vibrant and eager more than anything.
‘Adventure’, Troy thought slowly as he tried to analyze the situation, 'is the exact thing that I don’t need right now! Then again, this might be our ticket out of our usual, non-eventful Christmas…’ Troy eyed her carefully and scratched his chin as he always did when he tried to think of a decision.
“C’mon, Troy! I’m just dying to see what’s inside these panels!”
“Well, my parents did say that they want to renovate the attic in the summer. I guess they won’t mind some missing insulation.” He shrugged and reluctantly relented to his friend’s puppyish pouts.
“’Kay then, let’s start taking off some of the loose boards around it.”
“Wait a minute, Lee. I didn’t mean that we can start now. It’s ten at night and our parents, not to mention my snooping sister and your annoying college brothers, are all in the kitchen, and they can hear us if we do anything desperate. Let’s do it in the morning when they’re outside skiing or something. Besides, we’ll have time to grab some tools tomorrow when we’re all awake and thinking properly.”
“Troy, are you implying that I’m not ‘thinking properly’ at the moment? If you think I’m going to change my mind after tomorrow, you’re seriously wrong!” Her eyes started to swell and widen. Her fists were at her side, but Troy quickly avoided an unnecessary bruise.
“I didn’t mean that. I mean we would all be fresh and ready to take on this project after we get a good night’s rest. Now, come on. I’m going to get some hot chocolate before bed, how about it?” Troy waved his hand invitingly, but when Liane shook her head, he shrugged, and soon his head disappeared beneath the staircases.
Liane stood frozen for a few minutes, and after making sure that Troy was gone, took out a slip of paper from her jean pocket. She studied it carefully and then slowly smiled with growing determination. Exhilaration flowed through her veins and her heart pounded against her chest. Everything would go according to plan! It just had to!
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Yet Another Drabbling of a Bored Blogger
*SIGH* Yea, hope you enjoy the story I made up when I was bored. None of it is true, but it's not even finished yet since I still have to edit most of its previous draft. Anyway, enjoy!
A wise old man who lived not long ago once said to me, “When I was just your age, the world was as free as a bird soaring endlessly through the skies. Wild horses galloped wildly through the open wilderness. Trees dominated my land and the fish swam deep in clean waters.”
The old man laid his back on his rocking chair, creaking, and sighed longingly. He looked at me straight in the eye and said, “The world was once a beautiful place, where limits were non-existent and the air as clean as its pure water as it reflected the shining sun on a hot afternoon,” He paused for a moment once more, as if he felt his memories calling him from a distance, of a time long ago, before he finally said, “The world was never meant for polluting and abusing, but for us to take care of and enjoy. We were given this gift,” He gestured and pointed to his backyard, “This world long ago…” He stopped when he saw the look on my face. He knew well that I didn’t agree with what he was about to say.
The old man looked at me again in the eye until I couldn’t match his gaze. I stared at the ground in silence. He gave me a sad smile when I had the nerve to look back at him again.
“The world was made by a Creator, a great, mighty and loving Being who created the heavens and formed the earth, weaving our lives like ornate robes of many colours. He gave His Son as a sacrifice for worthless humans to save them from an everlasting regret and mourning in Hell, away from His presence.” He cocked his eyebrows when I opened my mouth to cry out in protest.
“Yes, even humans are worthless. Try comparing yourself to the Universe, and you can see how insignificant you really are. However, His love for you, and for me, makes us special beyond all means. He created us to be unique because we would form a relationship with Him, so that we may bring glory to His name.” He shook his head at humans’ folly and nodded towards me, “I have made my decision long ago, and have not regret it since. My master’s burden is light, his hand guiding me wherever I may go…” His words were lost by the strong winds approaching from the north, but his meaning was clear.
He suddenly turned to me and asked me urgently, “It is your turn to choose your path. What will it be?”
That was the last time I ever heard that question. The old man passed away unexpectedly the next week after our conversation, creating a gigantic tidal wave of sadness within our community. My family and I attended his recent funeral in reverence. It was a difficult time for all of us. We mourned over the dead man and when I viewed his face before they sealed the casket, I was overwhelmed with tears. I was surprised that his face revealed a smile he used to give me when I visited him. His forehead gave way to mysterious wrinkles that I had seen so many times before.
I may have had my share of arguments with him, which had often filled my lazy afternoons with excitement, and what he called, ‘a youthful passion’, but he was my Grandfather. The only adult in this entire world who would be willing to listen, understand, and guide me through life. Why did he leave me? Didn’t he know that he just carried away the only thing that matters in my life to his so-called ‘heaven’? Sobs heaved out of me as I watched them seal the casket and I began to sink into the ground, surrounded by blurred hands trying to keep me standing, trying to comfort me. Why? Why him of all the people in the world? Questions like these burst out in my mind until I was no longer able to think clearly, succumbing to an unshakable grief.
A wise old man who lived not long ago once said to me, “When I was just your age, the world was as free as a bird soaring endlessly through the skies. Wild horses galloped wildly through the open wilderness. Trees dominated my land and the fish swam deep in clean waters.”
The old man laid his back on his rocking chair, creaking, and sighed longingly. He looked at me straight in the eye and said, “The world was once a beautiful place, where limits were non-existent and the air as clean as its pure water as it reflected the shining sun on a hot afternoon,” He paused for a moment once more, as if he felt his memories calling him from a distance, of a time long ago, before he finally said, “The world was never meant for polluting and abusing, but for us to take care of and enjoy. We were given this gift,” He gestured and pointed to his backyard, “This world long ago…” He stopped when he saw the look on my face. He knew well that I didn’t agree with what he was about to say.
The old man looked at me again in the eye until I couldn’t match his gaze. I stared at the ground in silence. He gave me a sad smile when I had the nerve to look back at him again.
“The world was made by a Creator, a great, mighty and loving Being who created the heavens and formed the earth, weaving our lives like ornate robes of many colours. He gave His Son as a sacrifice for worthless humans to save them from an everlasting regret and mourning in Hell, away from His presence.” He cocked his eyebrows when I opened my mouth to cry out in protest.
“Yes, even humans are worthless. Try comparing yourself to the Universe, and you can see how insignificant you really are. However, His love for you, and for me, makes us special beyond all means. He created us to be unique because we would form a relationship with Him, so that we may bring glory to His name.” He shook his head at humans’ folly and nodded towards me, “I have made my decision long ago, and have not regret it since. My master’s burden is light, his hand guiding me wherever I may go…” His words were lost by the strong winds approaching from the north, but his meaning was clear.
He suddenly turned to me and asked me urgently, “It is your turn to choose your path. What will it be?”
That was the last time I ever heard that question. The old man passed away unexpectedly the next week after our conversation, creating a gigantic tidal wave of sadness within our community. My family and I attended his recent funeral in reverence. It was a difficult time for all of us. We mourned over the dead man and when I viewed his face before they sealed the casket, I was overwhelmed with tears. I was surprised that his face revealed a smile he used to give me when I visited him. His forehead gave way to mysterious wrinkles that I had seen so many times before.
I may have had my share of arguments with him, which had often filled my lazy afternoons with excitement, and what he called, ‘a youthful passion’, but he was my Grandfather. The only adult in this entire world who would be willing to listen, understand, and guide me through life. Why did he leave me? Didn’t he know that he just carried away the only thing that matters in my life to his so-called ‘heaven’? Sobs heaved out of me as I watched them seal the casket and I began to sink into the ground, surrounded by blurred hands trying to keep me standing, trying to comfort me. Why? Why him of all the people in the world? Questions like these burst out in my mind until I was no longer able to think clearly, succumbing to an unshakable grief.
Friday, September 28, 2007
The Drabbling Of A Very Bored Blogger
*Sigh* Once again I have procrastinated and am stuck with absolutely no topics in mind that’s worth presenting. So, (don’t worry, it won’t happen all the time) enjoy this story I made up. Maybe it’ll become a sort of background to a novel I’ll make in the future. Ms. Jess I promise that next week I’ll think of something else worth writing!!!
Dawn was waking, the dark rebelled its dominating warmth. A cold drift was swirling in this place, a look of the haunted reflected from the moon’s soft rays. Silence spread through the swampland and desert ways as quick and relentless as a wildfire. Soft croaks and echoes of voices could be heard from deep within the trees, radiating of memories long past.
The air was cool, piercing to the skin, but was quite moist and calm but from the ominous atmosphere coming in from deep within the ancient woods. From somewhere in the deep forest, an owl was heard hooting, its eyes bulged, its wings wrapped tight around its feathered body. It was soon silenced by the scolding darkness that challenged its rule.
In the middle of this bog, this wasteland, a stained, decrepit building stood high above the ground. Moss surrounded it; the smell of it left resemblance of the dead corpses that were flung into the hidden caverns and hiding places of the deep. Lights were seen to have flashed on and off during the winter; a further sign that the forest was alive and awake, filled with disfigured creatures of the night. This haunting feeling left even the bravest of men unable to respond to its taunting lure of death.
Many thought to have passed this place without trouble; others were thought to have been brutally killed. They were of course, rumours, but they were enough to frighten more than just children and creatures of the wild. They were just more to allow the sunken place its own ground of privacy.
On the other hand, there is a way in which the deceitful man had long forgotten to pass through this treacherous land. Beneath the whispering willows, between the roots that follow, a road was paved in the dirt. Gnomes and odd creatures of the dark were alleged to have built this mystery lane, but no one had ever seen such things for an endless set of ages. Rocks and potholes covered its ground; dripping waters ran along the trees’ branches and into the earth. Musical songs echoed its gateways with its long stanzas and rhymes.
Long before men wandered the world, such celebrations were made upon the coming of winter, the wet dew of spring, the blooming of summer and the wilting of fall. But all of that ceased to exist. Whispers and secrets buried the creatures alive in their hate and sorrow. If they were ever to come to the surface, to seek out what lies above, the sun and the moon would surely destroy them all, sending their hated souls to the underworld to be judged. For centuries upon centuries, worlds within worlds passed by time and yet the road remained undisturbed.
Until Now.
A rackety cart drove by this lane; it was carrying something more than what was expected. A man steered the mule in front, his eyes darted to and fro from fear. His clothes were torn, sprayed with blood; his head was wrapped with worn bandages. He continued to look back into the cart and his black fear began to grow. He whipped the poor animal in front of him with anxiety and the mule galloped as fast as its legs were able to carry, which wasn’t at all swift.
Moans, whines and whimpers could be softly heard within the remains of the cart. The driver peered back and cursed. The sun was slowly emerging from the horizon and light slowly crept into the ends of the swamp land. The man gripped his blackened jacket tighter and prodded the mule to quicken its pace. The man felt sweat coming down his beaten face, his hands were now shaking. The reins he held tightly in his hands were beginning to slip and tangle with his fingers.
Time was against them.
The lane was now narrowing and soon a sharp bend was seen. Many had already gone over its edge, falling mercilessly into the ravine tucked safely underneath it. The driver, now blinded by his distress and alarm from the sun's apperance, did not realize what a speed he had handled the mule with. By the time he had absorbed the dangers of the nearby bend, it was already upon him. With his life on the line, he pulled on the reins and held on for dear life.
The mule, who responded to the order dumbly, lifted its forelegs high in the air before it collapsed into the ditch beside the lane. The cart, in its still heavy weight, pulled it down; the reins were nonetheless held increasingly rigid by the old man. The mule, terrified at this peril, tried in vain to keep its balance steady to withstand the pressure brought down on it. The cart soon dragged it down into the darkness below, its frightened brays left unnoticed from the outside.
A sudden clamour of noise echoed throughout the swamp land. Pieces of dark wood was scarred and embedded into the ground, blood was spilt on the trees. At the bottom of the hill the doomed cart lay in an endless pool of red and of wood and of scattered debris left behind by dead carcasses. On the edge of the blood-stained area a brown sheet of cloth lie in tatters. When one looks close enough, they could see a small fist hanging from beneath the sheets.
Voices unexpectedly arose in chatter and screeches. The forest filled with trees of obscurity now was filled with red glowing eyes. Their pitches vibrated throughout the lands, haunting travellers as they go. As the chants of their primitive but penetrating ways increased in volume, a head of green came out of the burnt trees; its disfigured hands held each a dagger. Shadows were darting to and fro the forest, dark figures clamouring close and dispersing into the ominous gloom. Suddenly, the dreaded creature appeared out of its hiding place among the forest dark, its grotesque face contorting with pleasure.
Gigantic, hovering and with a posture of ruthless authority, the green devil roared. The other glowing eyes that hid in the dark were wounded by its calls. The ground shook; the mountains were forced out of their own territory. The swamplands then endured a silence that would have cut even a million soldiers in two.
Another head stuck out, its red eyes bulged in the same repulsive manner, its mouth wide open. A place colour of yellow could be seen in its mouth, a strange red colour stood in its fangs. Its ears were demented, its colour unchanging though the shadows blocked most of its figure. Soon many others jumped out of the darkness called their home and surrounded the mess of debris the cart had made. With another shriek, the revolting and atrocious giant that appeared whole first picked up a dead man by the head and laughed. The green monsters then began looking, hunting. Soon, more bodies were found; dead by the impact of the cart. They all shrieked in unison at their finds.
As the party of beasts continued to feast on the blood that poured upon them, the brown cloth that miraculously landed far from the cart was discovered. Safely concealed in overgrown bushes, the small piece of cloth lay there with stillness until a white endless stream of light neared it. A gloved hand came down and searched the bushes. After sometime, it felt a figure, a body, a shape and the hand lifted the covers of the cloth in frantic desperation. A gasp escaped from the man and his hand trembled slightly. A baby, with its forehead spilling with blood, was breathing; the poor thing was alive! Another hand quickly shot out and bundled the tiny babe in a new piece of cloth. The man gathered the small thing in his arms and swiftly, slyly manoeuvred across the forest.
Dawn was now illuminating its boundaries and expanding its warmth. The forest now burst into colours as flowers, plants and animals alike took their heads out of their hiding place to witness the war won by the light over darkness. The man, however, was in no mood to celebrate.
Cloaked with a long hooded mantle, the eager man ran elegantly but dangerously up the hills to where the lane was located. He knew of the dangers if he were to be caught. He also knew of the many enemies that hunted for him day and night. He clutched the tiny babe tighter and continued to jog up the unstable hillsides. Rocks began to slide from above him and he climbed the rest of the way with the baby wrapped in a bundle behind his back. Slowly and with pain, the man reached the top of the bend and dashed out of the tunnels and dripping trees. This was a place of evil and no one had been able to escape its claws for long.
Soundlessly, the man inconspicuously treaded the roadway, arousing the dust to swirl and fade away as he ran. He reached the end of the road and stepped into the bushes beside. Chanting was softly heard from afar and soon enough a band of horrendous soldiers marched like dead wraiths with their glowing eyes. The man crouched and leaned against the safety of the leaves that hid him and the babe, praying that they would not be discovered.
He held his breath as each row of soldiers passed his place, his arms coiled around his thin body that enabled him to crouch in positions a bulked man cannot. Droning sounds reached to his ears, buzzing music zoomed past by him. The ground shook, the trees moaned in pain and the man was thrown deeper into the forest by an unnatural force. The baby, still attached to his back, stumbled along with him into the darkness that bound them keep.
So what do you think? To be honest, I wrote this from the previous months…I had to do a major makeover, though, on the entire thing and had to edit most of its grammar…Anyway, hoped you enjoyed it!
Dawn was waking, the dark rebelled its dominating warmth. A cold drift was swirling in this place, a look of the haunted reflected from the moon’s soft rays. Silence spread through the swampland and desert ways as quick and relentless as a wildfire. Soft croaks and echoes of voices could be heard from deep within the trees, radiating of memories long past.
The air was cool, piercing to the skin, but was quite moist and calm but from the ominous atmosphere coming in from deep within the ancient woods. From somewhere in the deep forest, an owl was heard hooting, its eyes bulged, its wings wrapped tight around its feathered body. It was soon silenced by the scolding darkness that challenged its rule.
In the middle of this bog, this wasteland, a stained, decrepit building stood high above the ground. Moss surrounded it; the smell of it left resemblance of the dead corpses that were flung into the hidden caverns and hiding places of the deep. Lights were seen to have flashed on and off during the winter; a further sign that the forest was alive and awake, filled with disfigured creatures of the night. This haunting feeling left even the bravest of men unable to respond to its taunting lure of death.
Many thought to have passed this place without trouble; others were thought to have been brutally killed. They were of course, rumours, but they were enough to frighten more than just children and creatures of the wild. They were just more to allow the sunken place its own ground of privacy.
On the other hand, there is a way in which the deceitful man had long forgotten to pass through this treacherous land. Beneath the whispering willows, between the roots that follow, a road was paved in the dirt. Gnomes and odd creatures of the dark were alleged to have built this mystery lane, but no one had ever seen such things for an endless set of ages. Rocks and potholes covered its ground; dripping waters ran along the trees’ branches and into the earth. Musical songs echoed its gateways with its long stanzas and rhymes.
Long before men wandered the world, such celebrations were made upon the coming of winter, the wet dew of spring, the blooming of summer and the wilting of fall. But all of that ceased to exist. Whispers and secrets buried the creatures alive in their hate and sorrow. If they were ever to come to the surface, to seek out what lies above, the sun and the moon would surely destroy them all, sending their hated souls to the underworld to be judged. For centuries upon centuries, worlds within worlds passed by time and yet the road remained undisturbed.
Until Now.
A rackety cart drove by this lane; it was carrying something more than what was expected. A man steered the mule in front, his eyes darted to and fro from fear. His clothes were torn, sprayed with blood; his head was wrapped with worn bandages. He continued to look back into the cart and his black fear began to grow. He whipped the poor animal in front of him with anxiety and the mule galloped as fast as its legs were able to carry, which wasn’t at all swift.
Moans, whines and whimpers could be softly heard within the remains of the cart. The driver peered back and cursed. The sun was slowly emerging from the horizon and light slowly crept into the ends of the swamp land. The man gripped his blackened jacket tighter and prodded the mule to quicken its pace. The man felt sweat coming down his beaten face, his hands were now shaking. The reins he held tightly in his hands were beginning to slip and tangle with his fingers.
Time was against them.
The lane was now narrowing and soon a sharp bend was seen. Many had already gone over its edge, falling mercilessly into the ravine tucked safely underneath it. The driver, now blinded by his distress and alarm from the sun's apperance, did not realize what a speed he had handled the mule with. By the time he had absorbed the dangers of the nearby bend, it was already upon him. With his life on the line, he pulled on the reins and held on for dear life.
The mule, who responded to the order dumbly, lifted its forelegs high in the air before it collapsed into the ditch beside the lane. The cart, in its still heavy weight, pulled it down; the reins were nonetheless held increasingly rigid by the old man. The mule, terrified at this peril, tried in vain to keep its balance steady to withstand the pressure brought down on it. The cart soon dragged it down into the darkness below, its frightened brays left unnoticed from the outside.
A sudden clamour of noise echoed throughout the swamp land. Pieces of dark wood was scarred and embedded into the ground, blood was spilt on the trees. At the bottom of the hill the doomed cart lay in an endless pool of red and of wood and of scattered debris left behind by dead carcasses. On the edge of the blood-stained area a brown sheet of cloth lie in tatters. When one looks close enough, they could see a small fist hanging from beneath the sheets.
Voices unexpectedly arose in chatter and screeches. The forest filled with trees of obscurity now was filled with red glowing eyes. Their pitches vibrated throughout the lands, haunting travellers as they go. As the chants of their primitive but penetrating ways increased in volume, a head of green came out of the burnt trees; its disfigured hands held each a dagger. Shadows were darting to and fro the forest, dark figures clamouring close and dispersing into the ominous gloom. Suddenly, the dreaded creature appeared out of its hiding place among the forest dark, its grotesque face contorting with pleasure.
Gigantic, hovering and with a posture of ruthless authority, the green devil roared. The other glowing eyes that hid in the dark were wounded by its calls. The ground shook; the mountains were forced out of their own territory. The swamplands then endured a silence that would have cut even a million soldiers in two.
Another head stuck out, its red eyes bulged in the same repulsive manner, its mouth wide open. A place colour of yellow could be seen in its mouth, a strange red colour stood in its fangs. Its ears were demented, its colour unchanging though the shadows blocked most of its figure. Soon many others jumped out of the darkness called their home and surrounded the mess of debris the cart had made. With another shriek, the revolting and atrocious giant that appeared whole first picked up a dead man by the head and laughed. The green monsters then began looking, hunting. Soon, more bodies were found; dead by the impact of the cart. They all shrieked in unison at their finds.
As the party of beasts continued to feast on the blood that poured upon them, the brown cloth that miraculously landed far from the cart was discovered. Safely concealed in overgrown bushes, the small piece of cloth lay there with stillness until a white endless stream of light neared it. A gloved hand came down and searched the bushes. After sometime, it felt a figure, a body, a shape and the hand lifted the covers of the cloth in frantic desperation. A gasp escaped from the man and his hand trembled slightly. A baby, with its forehead spilling with blood, was breathing; the poor thing was alive! Another hand quickly shot out and bundled the tiny babe in a new piece of cloth. The man gathered the small thing in his arms and swiftly, slyly manoeuvred across the forest.
Dawn was now illuminating its boundaries and expanding its warmth. The forest now burst into colours as flowers, plants and animals alike took their heads out of their hiding place to witness the war won by the light over darkness. The man, however, was in no mood to celebrate.
Cloaked with a long hooded mantle, the eager man ran elegantly but dangerously up the hills to where the lane was located. He knew of the dangers if he were to be caught. He also knew of the many enemies that hunted for him day and night. He clutched the tiny babe tighter and continued to jog up the unstable hillsides. Rocks began to slide from above him and he climbed the rest of the way with the baby wrapped in a bundle behind his back. Slowly and with pain, the man reached the top of the bend and dashed out of the tunnels and dripping trees. This was a place of evil and no one had been able to escape its claws for long.
Soundlessly, the man inconspicuously treaded the roadway, arousing the dust to swirl and fade away as he ran. He reached the end of the road and stepped into the bushes beside. Chanting was softly heard from afar and soon enough a band of horrendous soldiers marched like dead wraiths with their glowing eyes. The man crouched and leaned against the safety of the leaves that hid him and the babe, praying that they would not be discovered.
He held his breath as each row of soldiers passed his place, his arms coiled around his thin body that enabled him to crouch in positions a bulked man cannot. Droning sounds reached to his ears, buzzing music zoomed past by him. The ground shook, the trees moaned in pain and the man was thrown deeper into the forest by an unnatural force. The baby, still attached to his back, stumbled along with him into the darkness that bound them keep.
So what do you think? To be honest, I wrote this from the previous months…I had to do a major makeover, though, on the entire thing and had to edit most of its grammar…Anyway, hoped you enjoyed it!
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