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 Posted: Mon Jun 21, 2010 10:15 am
Darkness
That’s what I woke up to. No light whatsoever. My hands were shaking and sweat made my hair stick to my forehead and the back of my neck. I looked around my room and I could see the slightest bit of shadows moving out my window. Dark clouds had covered the sky and the moon was concealed by a black, menacing veil. I set aside the covers to my bed and Goosebumps ran up my arms when my feet touched the cold, wood floor. I slowly approached the window when there it was, the black crow that had been there since this morning. Its eyes the color of crimson blood and its wings as black as the darkness in my room.
It was perched on the 300 year old cherry blossom tree that my great grandma had planted for the sake of good luck. The birds whole being made the tree tremble with sadness. How could I possibly know that the tree was overcome with grief? Well that’s a mystery to me too but you my mother used to say that it was a sixth sense of mine. That I could sense the feelings of beings borne by sheer goodness or something like that. I opened the window with a creak and inclined my head out the window. The crow just sat there, looking at me, waiting for something to happen. Anything at all.
I stretched out my hand toward the crow. My fingers touched the black feathers attached to its wings and body. They were cold as ice. Its feelings welled up inside of me like a tornado ready to burst out into the air, but there was something soft.
Deeper within itself all it really wanted was to be accepted, to be loved. The wind blew and the crow flew off. The clouds moving away, unveiling the sliver moon. The crow’s wings cut through the air, the darkness of them making black streaks cut into the moon and sending black rose petals from the sky. Black snow which could never be purified but only to live with those borne of the moon maiden.
I on the other hand am of no sort of moon child. I was borne of the maiden of white roses. The daughter and successor of the rose garden. There are other rose children out there but I am the true daughter of my mother and father. Destined to someday marry and continue the line. But of course I refused to marry some guy I have never met before. My mother tries to always set me up with a lady’s son so we could make deeper ties and become even richer. But why should I marry someone I don’t even love. It always ends up the same, either I reject or the guy changes his mind thinking my mother is my sister and confessing that he wants to marry her except me. And why is that? Well you could say that my mom is the most beautiful woman in the world. She has black curly hair, eyes blue as the ocean, skin so pale it could burn from the slightest glitter of light, average in height and very skinny. She is and maybe always will be the maiden of white roses.
My mother is always gone either doing business with some people or out pleasing her own greed. She used to be a loving mother until one day a letter was delivered saying that my grandfather had died after being alive for 300 years. She was overcome with joy and immediately purchased the best house in the country. Spending over millions of dollars of grandpa’s saved money. She said that even after spending that much we would always have enough to last us for a lifetime. I have come accustom to all the luxury but I would rather have a normal life than being surrounded by money and people who resent you for your title and wealth.
My dad is the only understanding one in my family. He doesn’t try to stop what mom is doing but he just ignores it. He meets up with some counts and lords. Makes big contracts and trading deals but he never goes too far. Sometimes we’ll go riding, have tea together, talk and practice magic. But when it comes time for mom to have some fun they disappear for more than two days and even when they come back she hogs dad to herself. It’s not as if I think my dad only belongs to me but my mom’s always trying to drag the attention to her.
She showers me with gifts and the finest of jewelry only to make me go somewhere where I won’t drag enough attention myself. She has to have it all. Everything. Greed. It’s the thing I absolutely hate the most.
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Posted: Wed Jun 30, 2010 10:26 am
Selfishness
I woke up the next morning to the sound of a vase crashing to the floor. Scattering in a million pieces, broken never to be fixed again. I reluctantly rolled out from under the covers and lightly my toes touched the hard surface of my wood floor. I walked over to the bathroom and turned on the shower, turning the knob as far as it could go to hot. The water burned my skin but soon the irritation eased away. I let the water run down my whole body, pushing away the sweat and tiredness of myself. Sounds of yelling come from downstairs and I turn off the shower. I dry myself off and towel dry my hair. I through on some cotton sweat pants, a lace cami and slid my toes into my blue fuzzy slippers. The yelling continues and I could tell it was my mom making all the racket. Probably just got back home from the party her and dad went to last night, drunk and disoriented. I glide across the room to my mirror and dress drawer. I sit on a chair and start combing through my dark, tangled hair and look at myself for a minute. My porcelain skin which doesn’t have a single freckle on it, my dark brown eyes standing out from my black hair and paleness. My tinny figure enclosed by the mirror like it’s trying to keep me there forever. I brush through my hair one last time and through it into a bun.
A very messy bun that my mom would probably scold but I could care less right now. I open my door and walk down the long hallway leading to the grand stairs. Unlike other kids I live in a mansion. Literally.
Its blood red carpets cover the floor, and pictures hang on all the walls. Different paintings ranging from Vangough to divinchie. Really, as if we need them. They just gather dust and soon are forgotten time to time other then when the maids come to dust them off. I pass multiple doors holding secrets and old junk. I turn the corner and am finally where I can see the front door wide open and the maids scampering everywhere trying to pick up every single broken piece of the priceless vase. I descend down and the maids greet me, I greet them. I smile then frown at the site of my mom’s gown scattered everywhere across the room leading the main dining hall. I creep in quiet as a cat and see here scattered across the table in her undergarments. Father is nowhere to be seen. I slowly approach her and am at the right angle to see her face all droopy and her make-up smeared across her whole face. My father walks in with her robe and drapes it over her.
“Sad site to see, huh?”
“Yeah. More like pathetic.” I look at him and he gives me a wry smile. His arms open wide and I gratefully accept them. He hugs me tightly and whispers softly into my ear. “Your mother has her reasons.”
“Yeah. To appeal her own selfishness.” I look up into his deep brown eyes. The softness of them trying to make me understand that my mother is not like that. But I think different. A groan escapes my mother’s limp body and she lifts herself up, wobbling side to side. My father lets me go and secures his hands on my mother’s waist. The warmth of his arms around my skinny body turns cold, abandoned. My dad smiles apologetically then focuses back on my mother. She groans again then looks up at me. She smiles then abruptly her smile fades and she’s standing firm on her own two feet, instantly infront of me. Her hand rises in the air and it hits my cheek, like needles pounding into my face. My hand reaches up and touches the puffy flesh.
“Dear! Why did you do that to Elizabeth?!” My father comes to my side and tries to look at how bad it is. I just turn away. I can tell I’m on the brink of tears but I refuse to let them out. I won’t waste such a thing on a lowly woman such as my mother. I look at her and she looks back at me. Her hand reaches around my head and pulls the ribbon out of my hair that was holding my bun up.
“To think I have a daughter who can’t even do her hair right. My daughter the successor of the rose garden.” She scowls at me then walks off half wobbling upstairs and disappears. My father kisses my cheek, rubbing it like it will make the pain go away. Which he knows it never will. He kisses it again and then runs up the stairs disappearing also. The maids run up to me asking what I want for breakfast, trying not to show what they just saw on their faces.
“Eggs and some toast will be fine. Thanks.”
“Yes my lady.” The maids run off and I enter the dining room once again. I look at where my mother was once strewn across the table. I pay no attention. Just walk to the other side of the five foot table and sit, where my food is ready. But my appetite is gone. I take a bite of toast and leave it there. To get cold and rotten. I walk into my dressing room, throw on my uniform, grab my backpack, and head out the door where a shoufer is waiting in a sleek black car. My hair has dried now and is sitting just past my solders and curls at the end. I look through the tinted window of the car. I see kids walking on the side of the road, laughing and smiling. Enjoying life to its fullest. I on the other hand sit here, in this fancy car. Having too much when there are other people who need more help, and care. Love. I can feel myself yurn for that love, and care. Wanting to once again feel the warmness, the softness of being loved again.
Am I selfish for wanting these things when I can already have what I want in an instant? Can I let myself be selfish for wanting these things? Selfish because I want my mother back, a normal life, normal friends, love? Yes that is considered selfishness. But then again my mind asks me “But isn’t if okay to be selfish once in a while?” “To want what you can’t have?” Then I realized how my mom always said “It's okay to be selfish once in a while, as long as you don’t abuse it.” How ironic. The same woman who told me those words, my mother, takes advantage of it herself. Turning back on what she said. I look out the window once again and a shiver courses through my skin. As we come to a halt in front of my school, there’s the bird. The black crow that was outside my window last night. Staring at me. Waiting with its blood eyes. Black and still.
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Posted: Sun Jul 11, 2010 11:13 am
The Meeting. Chapter 3
I was walking up the schools pathway to the entrance when I heard a high pitched scream cut through the chatting of people. Everyone stopped and time seemed to still like the world had been put on pause. But at the same time people were looking around, low murmurs coming from here and there. Finally people started moving again. All of them scattering into little groups of their own. Frightened looks were exchanged here and there. I looked around to see that I was the only one left in the middle of the path way. People didn’t dare come close to me. And why is that? Well word got around that I had a sixth sense. They believe it’s some kind of curse and if they touch me they will also get the misfortunate gift. It is said that “one who is able to feel the feelings of another are not meant to be in this world.” Or in other words they were born with black magic residing within them.
The wind sent a chill up my back making me shake under my uniform. Pairs of eyes were centered on me. Then the scream came out again. It sliced through the silence like a knife cutting trough butter. Then everything was like on big explosion. Everyone started to run towards the school. Their terrified screams escaping their mouths and their fear showing with every running step they took. My stomach started to turn in an uneasy way. First I turned right and then left. Again I did the same thing but there was nothing suspicious that I could see. The path was now empty of all life except for me. The wind let out a cry and the leaves shook violently. Again the scream came out and I frantically turned around in circles until out of nowhere a headache appeared in my head. Pounding and pounding like it was threatening to escape from my head.
Then I noticed. I was facing the east side of the school where a path leads to the forest in the back of our school. And there it was. The black crow. Its wings rustled nervously and soon it took to the air and headed down the path. I started running down the path following the birds black silhouette in the golden sun. The screaming had stopped but my headache was still there. The farther I went down the path the more intense it got. I was ready to drop to my knees when the crow stopped. I stopped to, but what I saw before me was something out of a nightmare. A pool of blood was inching its way toward my feet like it was coming to consume me. I followed the trail of blood till I came to one of the many trees in the forest. And there, hanging from the tree was a girl. She had bleach blonde hair and looked to be about my age. But I couldn’t really tell. Her clothes were covered in blood.
Her face covered with gashes and her legs and arms covered in menacing looking scratches. But that’s not what caught my attention the most. What did was the scene around me. Trees were soaked in blood. No sound could be heard except for my ragged breathing and the boom in my head. The ground had been torn up like many beasts had gone on a rampage. Clawed markings covered tree bark and dirt. I looked back at the girl. Her gaze was lifeless but it was set in a mask of fear, and shock. I could feel my knees buckling under me and I fell to the ground. My chest started to close and my breath came out in chocking sobs. My headache continuously pounded on my skull making black dots block most of my vision. I closed my eyes and dug my hands into the ground and let out a scream. It hung in the air for some time until it faded away into the dead silence. I curled my knees into my chest and started rocking back and forth. Then a noise came from the dead forest. I shot my head up to see what it was which caused even more pain in my head. Nothing. But to the left I heard a twig crack and big thuds coming my way. A black figure emerged from the green forest and it started its way towards my direction. I got up and started to back away slowly.
It was a beast. A demon. Its body was like a bears. Its legs that of a jungle cat. Claws extending from its big paw like feet which were covered in what probably was the dead girl’s blood. The demon lifted its head and I was shocked to see a mask covering its face. One eye was centered in the middle of the mask. I started to back away more quickly but I slipped on a pool of blood. The demon let out a terrifying shriek and started to charge toward me. Its claws digging into the ground giving it more speed to get to its next target. With incredible power the demon leaped and landed on me. Its claws digging into my shoulders preventing me from escaping. It opened its mouth and inside was a round column of teeth starting from the front of its mouth and farther back. I could smell the dead flesh and blood coming from its mouth. I let out a scream. But I knew no one was going to come. I was going to die now by this demon. I was going to be forgotten. Like the paintings in my house.
Memories of me will collect dust until they turn into dust themselves. The demon let out another shriek. Its paw lifted off my right shoulder and into the air. It was ready to shred me to pieces when something black moved above me and the demon. One minute the beast was on me and the next he was flung aside and tossed against a tree.
I laid there for a minute just listening to the sounds of the monsters loud cries of pain. Someone had come and rescued me. The sound of claws clashing against claws echoed and a growl came from the murderous fight. I finally had the courage to look over. I turned my head to where the growls were being tossed around. In front of the beast was a black wolf. Not a normal wolf but a demon wolf. The wolf was much bigger than the beast. The beast swatted its blood covered claws at the wolf. It dodged and latched its teeth onto the beast’s neck. The sound of bones braking and crunching in the massive wolf’s jaws sounded into the forest. And then the battle was over. The beast let out a wail and slumped to the ground. Its blood escaping from its neck like black ink falling out of its bottle. The blood burned everything in its path. The trees started to wither and all life started to die. The wolf backed away, jumped over my limp body and over to the other side of me. Again I turned my head and there it was. The crow. It was sitting on the wolfs shoulder and next to the wolf was a guy. He was tall and looked a little older than me. His black hair the color of the crow’s feathers and the wolf’s fur. He looked down at me and slowly stepped forward.
He gingerly scooped me up into his arms trying to do little movement as possible. His face was set in an emotionless mask but his eyes shone different. They were a deep honey brown and they seemed to look far into me. What scared me was I couldn’t feel his emotions coming from his touch. There was nothing. Our eyes were locked and in them I could see the concern and sadness in them. And it shocked me to see a mixture of love and longing. Even though I couldn’t feel his emotions I could see them. His eyes betrayed his emptiness and his emotionless mask. He pushed away a stranded piece of hair from my damp and bloody forehead. He bent down and softly brushed his lips over mine leaving a warm blanket of sweet pleasure on my lips. My vision started to become blurry and before I was overtaken with darkness he smiled and whispered in my ear. “Rest love. You are now safe. I will never leave your side again. Trust me.” His words drifted with the wind but they sounded clearly in my mind. My body relaxed in his strong hold and soon after I was consumed by darkness. Warmth. Love. He was the one. The one who would save me from the life that was slowly killing me deep inside. We have finally met.
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