Winged's Writings

[winged]

Ok, I'm a writer by hobby. Though latley I've had no long lasting story ideas. A few of my more recent works.

Note: I use some vivid images that might cause fear, paranoia etc etc. If you're not into gore I suggest you not read any of my works. Thanks

Scarlet
Scarlet; I looked about, seeing nothing except the gruesome and vulgar color of death. Everything was covered in its glossy venire. It ran down the walls in thick curling tendrils, pooling on the concrete floor all around me; my own visage staring back at me from the viscous mirror. I touched the cold surface, watching as the substance clung to my skin like glue. A spasm rippled down my spine as the mass of cold started to envelope my hand. The sensation was alien at best and it caused the hairs on my neck and arms to stand on end. I clenched my teeth as my hand went numb; the icy feeling reaching up my arm to my shoulder along both arms now. My entire body grew cold and numb as my senses faded away into oblivion, leaving me in a black void where darkness mingled with the unknown.

Hell's Fire
In the pale light of the full moon death was apparent if not rampant. I watched as people were slaughtered by the thousands, their blood draining away into the wanting ground. I watched as the bodies were moved to a mass burial pyre which would burn for several days, polluting the air with the fetid stench of death and his disciples. It was a sickening time and yet everyone was fine with all of these murders. I sighed as I watched one lone torch alienate itself from the crowd before it made its way, slowly and solemnly, to the pile of corpses and timber. The torch touched the dry tinder and soon there was a fire burning redder then a blood drenched sun. Black smoke circled into the night slowly obscuring the moon and all traces of light except that of the accursed hell fire that burned in the town square. I stepped back inside my home, not wanting to be caught on the balcony in nothing but a night garment. I decided to take my irritations to a bar and have them drown in ale. Slowly I pulled on a pair of leather breeches and a light cotton shirt that had been dyed black. With my clothes finally on I proceeded down to the nearest tavern hoping to find some solace deep inside a pint of ale maybe even in a glass of gin if I was so lucky.

[Lia]

Have you read... *goes to create a book board so as to stop spamming*

I like them. Scarlet most. Any background info? I wanna know what happens now...

[winged]

Sorry to dissapoint but these were spur of the moment and they have no plot and not future or past. Sorry.

[Lia]

Blast. Hate it when that happens! Lia=addicted to books:P

Well, they look good!

[winged]

Thanks ;D

I'll have a few more up sooner or later.

[Lia]

*claps* Yay! I love reading other people's stuff, it inspires me!

[winged]

They always told me to seize the day; unfortunately I saw it fit to embrace the opposite. The dark was just so much more; dare I say appealing? It attracted me like a moth to a flame, perhaps like every other rebellious youth. The light was in me although with adversity from my peers, the dark was only a cover for what others might consider as weakness or insecurities. I guess the biggest of these would have been the fact that I changed who I was to impress others. I was young then, so very young and naïve. Back then I looked a lot different then I do now, my hair was dark brown and my bangs were constantly hanging in my eyes. My clothes were that of any normal teen minus the expensive name brands. I was about five foot five back in high school; I never fit into a group but that’s how I liked it back then.
It was in my unfortunate youth that I turned to the appealing arcane that was kept taboo in normal society. At first it was all fake in my opinion; just an interest was all; until that night. I wanted to give this “craft” a try; to test what I believed to be occult fiction. I took my time gathering the needed materials; a few candles, incense, and chalk; and of course my lighter. I was ready after about of month of conscious preparation; I now had to wait the last few days to the full moon that was required for what I wanted to attempt.
In anticipation I rechecked the setup and spoken incantations I’d need. The pronunciations, I took explicit care with; I memorized the lines of Latin to the point where I could recite them at any given moment without hesitation. When at last the night in question arrived I was giddy with anticipation. My family went to sleep as normal, leaving me to my devices as like so many nights before.
I gathered the equipment I needed in a spare book bag before leaving out into the cover of darkness. I only had to go about a mile into the woods before I reached my selected place to perform my task. I stopped and stared at the half demolished structure through the clear night air. The only light that was available to me was that of the full moon looming overhead; it proved sufficient as I moved among the ruins to a patch of bare concrete. I set the bag down gently and fished out the candles and some chalk. This was the hard part; drawing the pentacle without any mistakes or defects was going to be quite a challenge. I started with a large circle, making sure to keep the lines connected and without any breaks or flawed areas. The next things I had to add were seven concentric circles around the edges of my main circle. These were for my candles. They too must be drawn with extreme care. I was barley able to contain myself as every minute of work brought me closer to my goal.
Next, came the task of inscribing part of the incantation into the circle. I carefully contorted myself to write out the words in Latin without touching any of the Existing chalk lines. I started to sweat and shake in Exhilaration as every syllable I wrote onto that cement slab brought me closer to a dream I’d grown dependant on completing over the last few weeks.
I finished the line and stood very carefully. I looked over my work to check for defects; if I had messed up the pentacle there could be dire consequences. I didn’t see any flaws, so I commenced to lighting the candles and the small incense pot that would go in the center of the circle. With the warm glow of the fire to help light the general area I placed the incense within the boundaries of the main circle before standing again. I started shaking with a fever that adrenalin had no match with as the thick smell of lavender and cedar choked the air around me. I took a deep breath then started chanting in the dead language.
As I moved swiftly over the practiced pronunciations and syllables I found a growing tension in the air around me. I sped up; the air was becoming oppressively thick with surmounted tension, as if the whole world was watching me and holding its breath. As the last chain of spoken words was laid in place I started to gather my equipment. One needle was all that I needed and it rested in my pocket. I produced the needle and stared at it for a long second, I knew what I had to do but there was nervousness in me that wanted to end this right now, but still I pressed on. I moved myself closer to the circle, inch by agonizing inch taking careful care to avoid destroying the circle. I held my hands out over the center of the circle, the needle in my right hand my index finger extended on my left. I pricked the end of my index finger and watched as one drop of blood welled up to the surface. I held my hand palm down waiting the few seconds before the drop made its decent to the concrete before. As the drop freed itself from my skin I only had to add one word more then I’d be done and my mission would be accomplished. The word I muttered was not the proper word unfortunately. It was supposed to be the Latin for luck; instead I muttered the word for suffering. As the drop hit the circle I watched in frozen horror wondering if I could ever undo what I’d just done. The original bit of this process was to increase my luck, life and leadership potentials. Now unfortunately, it was suffering that would follow me around for the rest of my days, unless of course I could undo this.
I rushed home, leaving everything where it was; I even left the dammed candles burning in my haste. I crept into my home still in an absurd rush. I had to find a way to end what I’d just started. My mind was running with panic and dark morbid fascination as I fumbled with the rather large and cumbersome book I’d retrieved the earlier spell from. I thumbed back to the last page I’d read, the spell, and searched the text for a way to end the spell and prevent whatever effects my little slip up would bring my way. As I scoured the text, to no avail, my heart began to sink like a stone. It was in this moment of self-despair and pity, among other things, that I reached my new course of action. I scoured the book for another spell, one that would neutralize the negative affects of the first. I found only two; one which required equipment and materials the likes of which I did not have and most likely could not obtain in the near future. The other required a full barrage of herbal remedies and other rituals. I sighed as I sank to the floor cursing myself with every other breath. “I just had to do it didn’t I?” I muttered to myself. The lights were off and I was lying on my back staring up through the dark at the ceiling overhead as everything started to replay in my mind, in slow motion of course. I watched the process again from a third person prospective; I cringed as the fatal utterance passed my lips again and I watched my face as it turned to horror. I watched my face blanch before the memory cut off in a flash. “d**n” I muttered to myself before I closed my eyes and forced myself to go to sleep.
The air made every hair on my neck and arms stood on end. The full moon overhead was glowing an angry red almost as if hell’s light itself was reflecting off the surface, shining down on me like a guiding light. I was running from something; what it was I couldn’t say, I only knew that I had to get away at all costs. The fear tore through every fiber of my being causing my fight or flight response to supercharge and in turn dump about a truckload of adrenalin into my blood stream. My heart was throbbing angrily in my ears and my neck and palms were covered with sweat. Something howled or roared, I couldn’t tell which, but the noise caused my skin to crawl and my whole body to shake with terror. I heard thundering crashes behind me and I resisted every impulse in my deluded brain to look back. I felt a warm gust of air blow against my back as a monstrous roar filled my ears. I yelled and tired as hard as I could to get away, to no avail. Again I entered a third person’s perspective as I watched my other self being dragged, clawing and screaming, into the darkness.
I jerked awake in my bed my mouth holding a silent scream, beads of sweat sat on my brows and ran down my back. My alarm was screeching at me. I stayed completely still trying to find a reason to move, but I found none. When I finally got the incentive to get up I slowly stumbled from my bed, fumbling with the buttons of the small clock radio. After several minutes of trying to turn the blasted alarm off with no success I settled for just ripping the cable from the wall. I reached out with a blind hand and turned on the small lamp on my computer desk before moving to my closet and dresser in turn grabbing a pair of jeans, boxers, and a long sleeved shirt. I muttered something about a horrible dream before walking into the bathroom, quickly stripping down and getting a warm shower.
After the shower I found myself sitting on my bed, more spaced out than with the world at large. I was staring a hole in the earth, with my lifeless eyes until my sister knocked lightly on my door. “Come on we’re going to be late” she said pushing my door open. She stood there staring at me for a second before she shrugged and walked away. I sat there, in my own worldly desperation, for about a minute before my body started going through the motions of life without my minds consent. I walked through the house like a zombie, getting in the car with my sister. Again she stared at me for a moment, she knew something was wrong but she didn’t know how to approach it I guess, because she said nothing as we headed off to school. She squirmed in discomfort settling, after a few minutes on turning the radio on. I sighed softly as I turned my head to face out the window watching trees fly past. As I stared out the window I was still painfully aware of the look my sister was giving me. I knew what would come next but 9it still surprised me when the radio cut out and she spoke “you ok?” she asked. I didn’t turn to look at her “yeah” I lied, my voice didn’t convince me and I knew it wouldn’t convince her either. “You sure?” she pressed. I knew she was only worried about me but I also knew I couldn’t tell her what had me so tweaked. Hell what would she think of me for it? I turned to face her very slowly and nodded “Yeah I’m fine sis”, my own tone still didn’t convince me and she grimaced slightly obviously ill at ease with the graven nature of my face. I attempted to give a smile, this only worsened the look she gave me and after a moment I tried again. She smiled softly after the second one so I figured it was suitable for use on other people a mask for myself. By the time we got into the school she actually smiled a real smile before she walked off to her classes.
Once she was well out of sight I reverted back to the state I had let take over me before we left. My body moved while my mind was elsewhere. It was by pure miracle that I made it to my class without running into someone or something. I sat down at my desk without taking much notice of the other kids around me, I really didn’t want to be here, and in truth I didn’t want to be conscious much less at school. After this thought crossed my mind I actually decided to look around, and as I figured I had most of my class staring at me like I was a freak in a cage. My first period was English, I could sleep through it if need be, but as I met peoples eyes I noticed two kinds of people were in that room. Some had eyes that showed concern others showed exactly what I thought they would, hatred, scorn, and some even worry of what I might do. I sighed and laid my head in my arms waiting for class to start, the least I could do was stay awake and listen to the lesson. I felt eyes still locked on me as the last bell rang and a few darted away as our teacher started the lesson. I tried to ignore it as I listened to the lesson at hand but it was a nagging feeling that wouldn’t let me focus.
“Today class, we’re going to start reading The Crucible. Can anyone tell me what was happening in our country during the late 1600’s?” My teacher asked. No one answered and it agitated me, were some of them really that stupid? I sighed and sat up, again meeting the gazes of several students. “The Salem witch trials” I said half-heartedly. “Oh Mr. Hawthorne, I thought you had chosen to sleep my class away; in any case now that you are with us can you tell us some things about the Salem witch trials?” She asked, watching my every move like a hawk would a mouse. I guessed she was trying to make an example out of me for sleeping, but I was determined not to let her get what she wanted. “Well, I know that many people were convicted of witchcraft and that all of the accused were made so by a group of teenage girls that were lying to preserve their own innocence.” I said, again half-heartedly. “Very good, now class The Crucible is a play by Arthur Miller. We’re going to assign parts and read the play out loud for the next week or two. Since it seems Mr. Hawthorne seems to know a lot about this subject, we’ll give him the lead of the play; John Proctor.” “d**n” I muttered under my breath. As she went around the room assigning parts I started to feel a little sick, but I shook it off and tried to pay attention. “We’ll start reading tomorrow so for the rest of class today I want you all to write a short paragraph on what “witchcraft” is to you.” She said; several kids groaned in response to the work, others just dug into the bags retrieving their assorted notebooks and binders; I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as everyone around me started to scratch words onto paper. I sighed and reluctantly pulled a composition notebook from my bag. I opened to the first black page I could find before leaning my head against my left hand while I spun my pencil with my right hand. I tried to arrange my thoughts to no avail. I knew the task at hand was irrelevant and minor but still I was unnerved I a jumped at the teacher’s gentle touch on my shoulder. “Come on now Trent it’s not that hard, I just want your opinion” she said smiling softly like teachers often do. I nodded while returning a very fake smile; my stomach turned with the very thought of my opinions on witchcraft. I took another brief opportunity to gaze about the classroom catching many kid’s gazes as before; most turned away when I met their eyes but still some stared. It made me feel like a freak, like I had committed some grotesque crime alone against humanity. I turned back to my blank sheet of paper and sighed. I had to force myself to get a single coherent line of text and after just about five minutes I only had two or three lines.
“Witchcraft to me is the subtle connection between a person and nature. The abilities of a witch if there are any at all would most likely come from someone being in tune with the natural world around them.”
I re-read the lines several times before I dropped my pencil onto the piece of paper and ran my hands through my hair. I was tired with this already and on top of that I was feeling lightheaded all of a sudden. I laid my head back down on my arms and closed my eyes waiting for the bell to ring, it only felt like a second but when I opened my eyes the class was filing out of the room “nuts” I muttered under my breath as I quickly shoved my books and such back into my bag and fled from the room into the crowded hallways where once again everyone seems to stop and stare at me.
Ah second period, world history, what a “fun” class I thought sarcastically as I took my seat in the back of the room; I instantly took notice of the board. “En Nomine Domini Antitheus Abætere Ad Tibi Incendium” was inscribed in big bold black letters across the board. I went over the saying in my head, making connections to root words and other prefixes. When the answer dawned on me I said it softly out loud. “In the name of the lord! Devil, depart to the fire.” I chill ran down my spine. I guess the human emotions of fear had chased off everyone’s glances but perhaps tat was only temporary. I watched and waited for the teacher to appear so I could ask him what this was about. When he finally made his appearance I could tell he was taking great satisfaction from the confused looks on his student’s faces. He cleared his throat; the entire class went dead silent as they waited for him to reveal his motives. “En Nomine Domini, Antitheus Abætere Ad Tibi Incendium” he said smirking for a minute before he opened his mouth again “can anyone tell me what I just said or even what language it was in?” he asked, glancing around the room like a chicken hawk would a coop of prey. I slowly raised my hand and he nodded at me “yes? What do you think it is?” he asked. I cleared my own throat, “its Latin, and it says in the name of the lord, demon or devil, return to the fire” I muttered. His smirk faded as I re stated the phrase and a look of puzzlement, interest and suppressed anger seemed to flow over his facial features in a quick motion. “Very-good” he muttered softly before shrugging off this blow to his pride. “Now the explanation for this phrase being on the board is in fact a very simple one. The Crusades are the study of our next chapter. Can anyone give the class a little background info on what was going on during the first crusade?” he asked, his eyes flashed to me and locked with mine but I didn’t raise my hand. I hated this class and he knew it, but he also knew that I could out talk him if he tried to make an example out of me. A girl two seats in front of me raised her hand and he looked to her “yes?” he asked “well sir. The crusades were times when the pope gave permissions to small armies to go and retake holy lands and artifacts from the invading Muslims.” She said in a very terse manner, one that I’d wager could cut you to the quick if you ever crossed her. I sighed and stared down at my desk hoping for once just to be left alone; however the guy sitting to my right quickly slashed my dreams. He reached over and tapped my shoulder and I jumped “what?” I asked turning to look at him, putting all of my might into not glaring at him. “How did you know the Latin stuff?” he asked. I stared at him for a long second “I just did” I muttered back; he took this lame excuse for enough and went back to drawing something in a notebook. I sighed and put my head down; wishing today would end already. I sat in restless silence as I listened to the rest of the lesson drag on; every word seemed to take an eternity rather than the few milliseconds that it should have. I muttered curses under my breath through most of the class, most for the bell to hurry up and ring.
When at last my salvation rang I was the first out the door and well down the hall before most of my class. I felt very uneasy for some reason, like I was sick. I couldn’t place exactly where the feelings were coming from but it was still having an effect on me. I leaned against a wall and closed my eyes to try and stop the room from spinning around me; it didn’t work. My mind screamed for god to save me from whatever was wrong with me but a more primal side told me that I was tainted and would not be saved. I fell to my knees coughing loudly; several people stopped and stared for a moment before walking on again and I couldn’t help but wonder if what I had done really made me deserve this. My coughing got worse as I looked up for anyone to stay and help me, I saw my sisters face for a split second or maybe I thought I had, certainly she would not leave me on the floor like this. I felt bile rise in my throat as everyone turned to leave and in the next instance vomit covered my shirt part of my pants and the tile floor in front of me. I turned my head away from the pool only to vomit again, this time it ended in a horrible coughing fit that left me gasping for breath like an old man on his deathbed. I felt light headed and I noticed the dark circles that were creeping their way inward on my field of vision. I muttered something breathlessly before my world went dark and I fell backwards to the tile floor.
I stared through the thick fog and trees ahead of me; the scarlet light seemed to call my name and dragging me closer and closer. I pushed my way through the thicket of trees before stumbling into a clearing, though there was something terribly special about this place, it was my own backyard and the light; was my house burning to the ground. I yelled something incomprehensible as I stumbled closer my hand outstretched towards the inferno. I fell to my knees feeling my stomach tangle like an old shoelace. I looked back up at the burning monolith that was my home and cried out again “No!”. The word was so simple and pathetic and explicit all at the same time. I started mumbling, about how life wasn’t fair and how it wasn’t my family’s fault; still the fire continued to burn and I stayed a mess on the ground, bawling like a two year old. I shuddered with a ragged breath and a core-shaking sob. All of my life’s horrors came flooding back to me until my depression consumed my very soul. Before my sense went blank I smelt ammonia and I snapped my eyes open. The white lights overheads were blinding and I instinctively closed my eyes. I was confused now; where was I? What about the fire?; it all ran circles in my head. Slowly I cracked my eyes open, letting my eyes adjust to the bright lights above me. I tried to sit up but found a force pushing on my right shoulder; I looked up to see a nurse looming over me. I obeyed her unspoken command to stay put but that didn’t stop me from taking in all of my surroundings. My heart rate was about 90 bpm and the steady beat gave me something to focus on. I sighed, “How long have I been out?” I asked quietly. The nurse looked at me with a soft smile “you’ve been unconscious for about two hours, you passed out at school. Your sister is here, outside actually.” She said motioning to the door. “Now your going to have to stay here a little while longer, we’re waiting on the blood tests and just to make sure whatever caused this doesn’t happen again.” I nodded silently “what about the fire?” I asked wondering if that was real or if I had been dreaming. She shook her head “there was no fire, but you made it pretty clear that’s what you were dreaming about. People heard you upstairs when you started raving about your house burning down” She said softly. She turned and continued to take down my condition before she walked silently form the room stopping for only a second to tell my sister I was awake and that she could come in and see me now.
When my sister came in the first thing she did was walk over and wrap her arms around my neck. “I’m sorry” she whispered, but she still didn’t let go. “For what?” I asked her holding her as tight as I could, which due to my accident was much at all. “I should have known something was wrong with you, I should have made you stay home today” she muttered softer still. “Its ok, you couldn’t have known..” I started but she cut me off “just take the apology while you get one” she said half-heartedly joking with me to try and raise both of our spirits. “She said I screamed, what did I say?” I asked her after a moment of silence shared between us. She looked at me and sighed “you were pretty clear, the house was burning and you could hear us inside but couldn’t do anything you were crying in your sleep for a short time.” She said softly stroking my hair; she’d gotten good at that, being the parent when they weren’t around. “Where are the rents?’ I asked softly after we shared another minute of personal silence. “they’re.. here somewhere” she said and I could tell she was flat out lying to me. “They didn’t even come did they?” I asked softly. There was a long pause before she responded “no”. I muttered something under my breath and she gasped obviously able to hear me. “How could you say that, their our parents Trent.” She said exasperated. “No, their not my parents, mine would have been here for me when I passed out in school, but no their off gallivanting around somewhere and they send the only other person they can think of to come get me” I snapped my voice rising to a nearly shouting volume. “Trent calm down” she said softly putting a hand on my shoulder; I shrugged it off and stared at her “I’m not mad at you, but I won’t forgive them, they’ve done this my entire life and now you just tried to make it right for them,” I spat feeling my face flush. I chanced a glance at the heart monitor, 120 blinked back at me. We sat in tense silence for a long moment that seemed to cross several hours; at least it seemed that long to me. Eventually the nurse came back with a form for my sister to sign. She did and the nurse told me I was free to go; I looked at my sister “got any clothes for me?” I asked. She smirked “No I left them back at the house looks like you’ve got to walk home in that gown your sporting” she said sarcastically. I stuck my tongue out at her; childish I know but it got the job done for now, besides I was too weak for much of anything else. She stepped out the door and returned with a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. I sighed and pulled on the jeans quickly before taking the gown off and pulling the shirt on. My sister had been gracious enough to turn away but it wasn’t like it mattered. “So I can leave now right” I asked looking hopefully at her; wanting nothing else than to escape this hell hole of a hospital. “Yeah let get out of here” she said mimicking my need to get out of the quite madness that this place caused. As we walked down the quite hallways I found myself staying closer to my older sister than I ever would have normally walked, like she would protect me from whatever would want to hurt me. I nearly laughed at the idea but I agreed with the subconscious logic that was there and knew she would try and protect me from anything that wished me ill. I sighed softly as we walked out into the mid afternoon sun my sister smiled at me obviously feeling the same sentiment. I walked slowly with her to the car and got in. I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes as she pulled out and we headed home. I think I fell asleep because I opened my eyes at the touch of her hand and saw that we were parked outside of our home.
I sighed and got out of the car taking slow steps to get inside. The sun was warm and I didn’t want to retreat inside so fast. My sister smiled softly at me before she moved inside giving me my space. I smiled back glad she left me alone for the moment. I walked around my house, stopping at a stop in the back yard. I knelt down in the grass before finally giving up and collapsing on me back staring up at the blue sky overhead. I laid there for a few minutes before I heard the door open and close and my sister walking out to me. I closed my eyes as she stood over me “don’t tell me you walked all the way back here just for a comfortable place to sleep” she said sitting down beside me. “No” I said keeping my eyes closed “I just wanted to be outside for a while” I said absent-mindedly. “Mind if I join you, or would you like to lay in the sun by yourself?” she asked. I pretended to think about it at which point she slapped my arm lightly “sure I don’t mind” I said laughing. “So what’s wrong?” she asked after a moment. I sighed “stuff” I muttered back. “Obviously and it has to be more than that if it caused you to get sick like you did, so tell me what’s wrong” she stated firmly. I opened my eyes and looked at her before closing them again “its nothing, trust me” I said softly. “Bull” she said sternly “tell me what’s wrong” she snapped losing her temper rather quickly to my incompliance. “If you won’t tell me what’s wrong I can’t try and help you” she said trying to use the bait that I could easily enough get around. “It’s nothing sis, trust me” I said looking up at her with what I was hoping was a very convincing look. She sighed and shook her head silently “if you don’t want to tell me that’s fine, but at least let me know that there really is something wrong with you” she said softly. “There is but I’ve got it under control” I said absently she grimaced “ok if you say so” she muttered.
“Can we change topics?” I asked softly staring up at her; she nodded and I proceeded to ask her about what we were doing in my English class. She nodded and told me the tragic story of John proctor and her opinion on how he was a fool to what he did. I disagreed, seeing Mr. Proctor’s view that giving in to their prosecution and lying would only be another sin to his list and that this was he was of repenting for his lechery. She also told me that when I read in classes to follow the stage directions and to read like an actor. I smirked; she always was a drama kid, so of course she’d love to see some of the same ability in me. I nodded and looked up at the sky above; the colors were bleeding over now from blue to a dark bruised purple. I noticed the black clouds that loomed in the distance and I watched a flash of lighting shine through form the interior of the coming storm. She followed my gaze and whistled, “that looks like a big one” she commented; I nodded staring at the clouds. “Well come on let’s go inside already,” she said after a minute of silence. I reluctantly got up and followed her into the house. We both sat on the couch and she turned on the T.V. I sat beside her and sighed, “So how was everyone reacting when I fell out?” I asked wondering if I had just been imagining the fact that everyone seemed to ignore me on the floor. She looked over at me and shrugged “I wasn’t’ around when you fell out but they came and got me out of class after they couldn’t reach the rents” she explained. I sighed “figures” I muttered softly before laying my head on her shoulder staring at the T.V.
We sat in silence for a few hours before I had another question to ask. “What’s the school play this year?” I asked softly, looking over at her. She looked over now completely confused “why?” she asked. “Because I want to know,” I said smirking. She raised one eyebrow at me in suspicion “what are you planning?” she asked. I sighed, “Just tell me and I’ll tell you what I’m planning.” I countered smiling at her. “A play” she countered back, smiling at me like a smart ass would. I stared at her with a look that would freeze a sun and she stared back returning the gaze; we could sit like this for hours and neither of us get anywhere. I stuck my tongue out and she died in laughter “so tell me,” I said through my laughing. “The same one you’re reading in English” she said after a gasping breath. I smirked “open auditions?” I asked. She looked at me and her eyes widened “no way” she said excitedly “my little brother wants to be a drama kid?” she teased. I nodded and smiled “can you teach me?” I asked wondering if there was some trick to being a great actor quickly. She sat up and looked at me seriously now “your serious?” she asked in shock. “No I’m just pulling your chain; of course I’m serious” I said staring right at her. “Ok then, well if you are completely serious I can give you a few pointers,” she said smiling “hold on let me go get something,” she said before getting up and heading upstairs to her room.
I sighed and walked to get a glass of water from the kitchen, I had just sat back down on the couch when my sister came back down stairs. “Here” she said tossing a small packet. I caught it and looked at the cover, it was the script; I looked up at her smiling like a kid who’d gotten that perfect Christmas present. She laughed at my looks and told me to open it and start at my first line. I read over the first few pages getting to know exactly what would be said and by whom.

I looked up from the keyboard and computer screen, staring at the bare wall behind the desk. Why was I doing this? Oh yeah, part of the court order to chronicle what I could remember of my life or suffer imprisonment. I don’t know why my life was so special but apparently it was important for them to know. I didn’t happen to have a copy of The Crucible on me so I decided with a reluctant sigh that I should skip the dictation and move on. I sighed as I stared at the lifeless and color less wall before me. “Great” I muttered absently as I stood and stretched my arms over head. I groaned and walked from the computer desk to the door of the small apartment then back. Pacing was supposed to help the writing spirit wasn’t it? Well if not it was something better to do than spill my soul all night long into a lifeless computer. I sat in the computer chair and held my head in my hands wondering how I would ever get this done before the three month deadline I’d been given. Also I wondered where they were keeping tabs on me from. As I thought my hands reached for my wallet that was sitting open on the desk in front of me. I turned it over in my hands before checking my funds. “$200” I muttered with a sigh, not even enough to get wasted out of my mind and forget these troubles. I slowly rose from my seat and stuffed my wallet into my pocket, I should try getting drunk even if it didn’t work maybe I could work up a tab and have the barkeep shoot me for trying to leave on without paying. I opened the door and slammed it shut behind me as I moved down the hallway towards the hotel’s bar area. I scanned the smoke choked bar as I entered, business was slow tonight apparently. There seemed to be naught a soul in the room other than me and the barkeep. He looked up at me from his work of drying a few shot glasses and smiled, showing a set of half rotten teeth. I tried to smile back but wasn’t able. “What’ll ya have?” he asked obviously sizing me up for my moneys worth. “A shot of the hardest stuff you got” I muttered back. He nodded and set down a shot glass before grabbing a dark bottle from under the bar. I didn’t see a label and I didn’t care to know at the moment, just as long as it burned away what I was feeling. He looked up and grinned as he poured the nearly clear liquid into the glass. I grabbed the glass and stared at the green/clear liquid for a second before tilting the glass back and swallowing the whole bit at once. The stuff burned like hellfire as it went down and left an awful taste of licorice covering my tongue. I looked up at the guy “what was that stuff?” I asked setting the shot glass on the bar. He picked the glass up and rinsed it out “absinthe” he said softly. I looked back at him slightly confused “do what?” I asked now looking at him like he was crazy. “Its old stuff and technically its illegal so keep your trap shut would ya” the barkeep said keeping quiet even though there was no one in the bar but the two of us. I nodded and looked around, “got anything that will get me wasted out of my mind quick and easy?” I asked looking at the bottles of whiskey and tequila behind the bar. “That usually takes one of what you gulped down my friend but it’s notorious for the inebriated clarity,” the barkeep said. “What do you mean?” I asked staring at him now. “I mean that you’ll still be thinking like this weather your drunk off your rocker or not” he said back. “Well give me something hard hitting, I don’t want to remember the rest of the night,” I said as I looked around the rest of the bar; nothing stuck out to me in particular but I couldn’t help but watch the door as if someone was going to come in any second. I shrugged this feeling as I turned to a shot glass of tequila that the barkeep had placed behind me. I made no expression as I tossed back the tequila and amazingly kept my composure where others would need a lime or lick of salt. The taste was still horrible but I would live; besides I was a professional at this now. It was amazing how fast I’d progressed from my “fall from innocence” to the drunkard I was today. I sighed as the tender set down another glass and poured two shots, obviously feeling the need to drink with me when his business was so slow. I grabbed my glass and held it up waiting for the tink of glass on glass before saying cheers and slinging back the shot. The next hour and a half went by much of the same way, with us talking about stupid crap as we slowly feel lower and lower into the sweet bliss of inebriation. I looked around the rest of the bar; nothing stuck out unparticular but I couldn’t help but watch the door as if someone was going to come in any second. In my sick attempts to find company I stared at the door as the tender passed more and more drinks my way. I knew I should be out by now but there was a sense of serenity that clung to me; I couldn’t shake the feeling and the ability to reason. As the hours ticked by drinks came slower and slower and I realized that the tender was passed out drunk behind me on the bar. I sighed as I stood up; the entire world went sideways as I did. So in truth I was wasted out of my mind just I could actually think through it now; this was the opposite effect than that of which I wanted. I slowly stumbled to my room and by some miracle got inside with the door closed and locked behind me. I made it to the computer desk and sighed as another idea came to mind, perhaps something else to write or maybe it was something harebrained because of the liquor; I’d never know. By some miracle I started to type and in fact it was over the next few hours until the sun started shining through the pane glass window to my right; with a sighed I slowly tottered off to bed; hiding under the covers from my dreaded enemy, the sun.
I slept the entire day away, not coming back into consciousness until about 9 PM that night. I sat up from beneath the sheets in a haze; stretching, I stood and looked over at the computer screen; there before me were three paragraphs of text that I didn’t remember typing. I walked over slowly, squinting against the brilliant LED light of the screen. I sighed as I started reading over what I’d typed in my drunken stupor or lack there of; but as I read the more I found that the text before me was well organized and very well written, almost as if I’d been sober when I’d written it. I shrugged and re- read what had been typed to check for accuracy.

I’ve decided to skip the boring parts of line reciting to save time, also I do not have access to a copy of the play to be able to copy line word for word. We practiced lines for about two hours as the storm reached the peak of its fury and died down. In this time I had more of my mixed feelings for my sister, which caused me minor concerns at the time but in hindsight it should have sent some major red flags off in my head. Unfortunately for me you can spot every flaw in hindsight. We made dinner together; my sister and I, this was more bonding time for the both of us in which time we discussed music, art, drama, and creative writings amongst other topics until about midnight. My sister yawned and looked at the clock before looking back at me. “I should go to bed; unlike you I have school tomorrow.” She said sleepily. I smiled softly and nodded as she wrapped my in a hug and kissed my forehead “goodnight” I whispered; she let go and stood up heading for the stairs “goodnight, try and get some sleep tonight please” she said again being very mother-like. I nodded innocently and watched her depart to her room, which she shared with our younger sister, like I shared mine with our younger brother. I sighed and turned to the muted television through unfocused eyes. I turned off the T.V. and slowly made my way up to my room only to be disturbed by the glare of headlights in my window. I glanced silently at my little brother who was asleep soundly. I looked down to see my parents stumbling form the car drunken smiles on their faces. I sighed and made my way back down stairs; as I hit the landing I could head keys rattling on the other side of the door and as the latch was turned and the door began to open I into one last deep breath. I held a grim expression as I watched my parent’s obviously buzzed faces turn from signs of merriment to signs of discust. I scowled at both of them, daring them to say something fake so that I could dash their hopes of myself being a drugged idiot that they could manipulate with the slightest notion. “What are you doing up dear?” my mother asked sweetly looking at me with false concern. I didn’t answer but only settled for staring right at her with a sense of hatred I’d never felt before. “Go to bed” my father growled; this, I figured, was supposed to be a warning but if fell on deaf ears as I glared at him too. He took a step closer and so did I “go to bed” he thundered. I sneered back at him “make me” I shouted. His face grew red and he advanced the small distance between us in an instant before his hand wrapped around my throat and lifted me up off the floor and shoved me into the giant ceiling to floor mirror behind me. The glass shattered and rained down on my head and shoulders as I gasped for air. “I helped create you, I will kill you just as easily” he growled, staring at me with such an intensity that it could have melted steel. He let go and I feel to the floor several shards of glass piercing my hands and feet. I sat catching my breath and listening to my fathers fuming above me; as I stood I looked up at him letting no expression grace my face; no anger or pain or sorrow; just an irrefutable calm that sent all the color from his cheeks. I must have looked like hell; I was sure I was still pale and I’m almost certain that the dark rings under my eyes were large but that didn’t explain everything. My eyes must have been something fierce because he never let himself have the opportunity to look away. We stayed cemented like that for a long time before I finally spoke; using all of my might to not ruin the calm façade that covered my face. “You’re no parents of mine. As soon as I can I’m leaving this hellhole. You can find some other punching bag to take out your aggressions on.” I said calmly moving my eyes to my mother who, like my father, was in complete and utter shock. “I could have died today and you don’t care; well just so you know, if either of you plan on dieing anytime soon let me know, I want to be the one to kill you both” I sneered as I stared into my father’s eyes.

I paused in my readings and sighed; did I really want to keep all of this in? My logic center kicked in; they did want everything that had ever happened to me right? I sighed giving up on this question for now as I continued reading.

His eyes flared with a new found rage and hurt as he stared back into my eyes; again we stood motionless in silence for a few minutes. The hatred was thick in the air, almost something you could see and in an instant my father turned to my mother and gave her a terse nod which sent her flying up the stairs in hurry. I watched her go before looking at my father’s back wondering exactly he was plotting to do to me now that no one was here to witness it. He slowly made his was around the living room stopping every few steps; the action reminded me of some of the larger predatory cats wile they were hunting. He was missing the advantage that one of these cats had though; I would not be caught unawares to his weapon of choice. He reached the fireplace and laid one hand on the top of the mantle as if using it as support; he stayed statue like in that position perhaps thinking over a moral dilemma or just pondering how he was going to kill me I’d never know. He reached with his other hand and slowly removed the fire place poker from its place beside the mantle. I muttered a string of profanities under my breath, none of which were anywhere near appropriate for my age, most also included the word “coward” repeated over and over again. I found myself taking subconscious steps backwards before he turned to face me; I ended up in the kitchen, my back pressing against the counter. As I groped for something to defend myself with on the counter he turned and looked at me with a wicked smile; he started whistling a harmless tune as he started moving towards me. My searching grew more frantic with every step he took towards me; as he passed the halfway point between him and me I finally found purchase on a knife handle. I brandished the blade in a similar fashion I’d seen many street blades used resting the back of the knife against my arms with the blade facing outward from my right arm. My left hand was subconsciously balled into a fist, the only action that contradicted what my face still showed; nothing.

As I thought back on the fight in my mind I remember the movements seemed to come to me like a choreographed sword fight, between the two of us. I shivered at the thoughts of the nearly lethal brawl that took place that night.

As he came within striking distance I raised my blade arm towards him in warning; a snarl was the only response I got before he lunged forward, brandishing the poker high over head. He brought it down at me sideways and I ducked missing the strike by mere fractions of an inch. The poker embedded itself into the wall behind me and with a grunting wrench it came free of the wall sending bits of plaster flying across the space. I moved backwards heading back into the living room, away from any possible corners that could become traps. My father followed me out, taking swings of opportunity every few steps; most were only slipshod at best but the one that did collide with my side sent me sprawling to the floor. He stood over me now, the poker held like a sword about to be used to pin some vermin to the ground. I tried to roll away as the poker descended but I could not escape in time as the blunt edge caught me in the ribs. I heard the crack and winced as the pain flashed through me an instant later. I lashed out with the blade managing to get a long gash up his left arm. He jumped back “little son of a pregnant dog” he growled through his teeth. I stood up, my left hand cradling my side, the blade was still ready to be used at any moment. He lunged forward again swinging the blade with all of his might; an attempt, I assumed, that was meant to kill me on the spot. I shot in close and started slashing out wildly with the knife across his chest. I heard fabric tear and the un-mistakable sound of ripping flesh. He shouted a string of profanities as he moved one hand across his chest. I watched already seeing the fountain of blood that stained what was left of his shirt and ran down across his skin. I watched as his face contorted at the feel of the damage I’d caused him; he looked up at me and I stared back, my expression still blank and unfeeling. This seemed to unnerve him and I figured it was perhaps one of my best weapons against him. I took advantage of this moment to jump forward landing several more cuts across his face, arms and whatever other places I could reach. As I backed away leaving him to check his wounds and cower where he was I took notice that the wounds themselves were not deadly but perhaps all of the blood that was now beginning to hit the carpet would kill him soon enough. It was in some time in this commotion that my little brother and sisters had been awoken and had made their way down the stairs silently. My older sister watched in half terror half awe as I cut out father and she shielded our younger siblings view from the atrocity I was committing. I fell even farther back from him and took up a neutral stance watching him with cold eyes “stop this nonsense” I said firmly as if I was disciplining a child of my own. His eyes grew wide with a frenzied edge to them; I could only guess at his thoughts about his son fighting back and so far winning against him. My sister now made her presence known, she squeaked at seeing the flow of blood; it was understandable she was only a child, younger than myself. My father looked from them then back to me a twisted smile caressing his face. He put on a fake smile, one that I used to believe when I was young and he called in the tone of a good father “Come here Nate.” I sucked in a sharp breath as my younger brother moved from behind my older sister and went to my father; again I do not blame him, he was only a child as well. Upon reaching my father young Nate was dragged into a headlock and brought to face me. I stared at my father’s twisted grin with a look of pure disgust and hatred. Nate started calling for me to do something, pleading for me to save him; My father called in mockingly “Yes Trent come do something.”, he sneered at me as he tightened his grip on my brothers neck. I stood dumb struck for a moment as I watched my little brother struggle uselessly against my father’s grasp and I thought for a moment about whose life was at stake. It seemed useless, that my brother or I would die tonight anyways; I could not bring myself to condemn him for what I’d started. I sighed and tossed the bloodied kitchen knife to the floor, “let him go” I said in a defeated tone. Slowly he let my brother go who fled to me seeking the protection that I’d always guaranteed him. I moved him behind me and stood stock still, awaiting what I knew was coming. I saw my sister reach down for something but I couldn’t have guessed she would do anything. As my father slowly advanced upon me with the poker once again brandished above his head; a wave of fear passed through me and a whimper escaped my lips. My father leaned in close to my defeated form and whispered, “You had the spine that I was sure I’d broken long ago, I won’t make that mistake again.” As he pulled away and my view widened I took almost immediate notice of my sister holding the knife by her side taking slow deliberate steps to arrive behind my father. As he started swinging down at me she brought the knife across his back, more accurately across his spine. He shook violently for a moment as the poker fell to the floor with a dull thud. I watched in a cruel alien satisfaction as my now paraplegic father struggled to get away from the children he had abused; the ones that now had control over him. I kneeled down to get close to him, where only he and I could hear and whispered in his ear, “How the mighty have fallen. You tortured us and now we’re going to pay you back for every single moment of it” I sneered. I grabbed the fire place poker as I stood and held it at my side; His eyes widened at and I took an almost sick satisfaction of seeing that look on him for a change. I slammed the poker into his rib three or four time, hearing several satisfying cracks with each blow. “Now we’re even, at least you are with me” I said coldly; I held the poker out to my sister, she only looked at me with a sad smile that showed none of the rage she might have felt for him. I didn’t push her to take vengeance but I didn’t stay in the room. I quickly went upstairs and packed away a few days worth of clothes and all of the money I’d saved from various occasions. I was back down stairs in less than two minutes. My sister looked up at me with a knowing expression and she was the first to come and wrap me in a hug; the younger siblings were soon to follow her and we stood as our small busted up family for the last time. I sighed and said my short goodbyes before I left that house for the last time.

I pushed myself away from the computer screen unable to read much more. With a heavy sigh I went to the bathroom and started the water for a shower. As the room filled with steam I found myself wondering about how the violence in my life had affected me and changed who I was. These thoughts persisted until I’d finished my shower and had gotten dressed again. As I lay on the bed my mind started reviewing things that I’d rather have never remembered. I must have fallen asleep because when I glanced at the window next the sun was settling low in the sky. I got up slowly and stretched guessing that the all nighter must have taken more out of me than I had thought. I glanced at the computer, just now noticing the highlighted tab across the bottom tool bar. I sighed and sat down as I opened the new email. As I looked through the assorted junk mail I found two emails of interest; one from my sister and one from the court I was supposed to present my memoirs to. I sighed and opened the court’s message first.

Dear Mr. Hawthorne,
We are pleased to inform you that your case has been dropped. We wished to notify you sooner but we did not have full confirmation of that until earlier this morning. We are terribly sorry for the inconvenience.
Sincerely, Judge Giles

I read the letter again to make sure I had understood correctly. They were dropping my case, this was grand news for me meaning that I was no longer obligated to write these memoirs nor was I under watch from the local police force anymore. I found myself smiling uncontrollably as I opened my sister’s email. I had been expecting bad news from the courts and was hoping to have a little relief upon some form of good news from my sister; it was unfortunately the opposite. My smile slowly faded as I read the email.

Trent,
There was an accident. Nate’s in the hospital. I figured you’d like to know; he wants you here. Please come he’s been begging me to send to you for a week now, I hope your not to busy.
Love, Ashley

As I read I found myself relieved that this was the only bad news she had to offer me. I found myself typing a message back to her before I knew it.

Ash,
I’ll be there as fast as I can. Keep this a secret from Nate though. I want to surprise him with something, if I can think of anything that is.
Love, Trent

I hit send and only found myself smiling once again; I was finally going home to my family. I’d been away for 10 years with only quick visits of a day or two, perhaps a phone call if I could manage. This time I might stick around for a while get back in touch with my younger siblings and see how life treated them after I’d left them so long ago.

I spent the next thirty minutes searching the web for plane tickets from Portland, Maine to Atlanta. I sighed; they were hundred dollar tickets for one way. I bought one ticket for a flight that would leave in just under an hour. I quickly packed all of my things into a suitcase and the one backpack I’d fled home with. As I left the room for the last time I felt strange, like I was leaving part of my soul in that room Even though I did have my laptop with me I couldn’t shake the feeling that typing my story here had some how imprinted on the room. I shrugged and closed the door for the last time moving quickly downstairs and out onto the streets. I was quick to flag a cab and as I climbed in and said where I was heading; I felt like someone was watching me. I turned and looked back at the hotel from the rear window as we drove off but there was nothing to see. I shrugged the feeling off as best I could and settled in for the hour-long drive to the airport.

As we pulled into the front of the airport I took notice of three things all at once. One; I noticed how fast I responded to a minor family crisis faster than I did to saving my own ass. Two; I didn’t have enough money to pay this cabby and three; there was practically no one at the airport, which was really weird especially for the time of day. I got out of the cab and looked back at the cabby “how much do I owe you?” I asked hoping that it wouldn’t be to much. He seemed to scan me for a minute before sighing “free” he said before he pulled off. I stood strangely astounded by this act and it caught me off guard. I shrugged as I turned to enter the airport I felt a chill run down my spine. I glanced around as a sense of déjà vu passed over me. Everything seemed very familiar to me but I hadn’t been here since I’d arrived two years ago. The main lobby was the same except I’d been walking out into a miserable rain then instead of heading to see family. I shuddered, as I moved inside still not able to shake the feelings that plagued my mind. I approached the counter and smiled softly to the young receptionist who was waiting for me. “How can I help you today sir?” she asked as I arrived at the counter. “I’ve already bought my ticket, Hawthorne,” I said smiling to her. She started typing something into a hidden keyboard “one way ticket to Atlanta, right?” she asked looking up at me with a smile. “Yes ma’am” I said back “here you go then Mr. Hawthorne, enjoy your flight,” she said smiling.
“Thank you” I said back as I walked away towards the security check, which took a little over ten minutes for me to get through. My flight was boarding as I passed through security; I arrived at the gate just in time to make it onto the plane and in my seat before take off. As all of the pre flight nonsense was going on I’d managed to get my hands on a drink as soon as we’d leveled off. I was stuck with a window, luckly with an empty seat next to me. I settled for taking my laptop out and trying to do some more work on my memoir, if you could even call it that. I spent the next few hours trying to type something but nothing was coming to mind, almost as if the will for me to write had dried up over night. This frustrated me slightly and left me in a little bit of a foul mood. With a frustrated sigh I shut down the laptop and tucked it back into its case, settling for staring out the window for the next hour, watching the landscape change beneath us as we flew.

As we neared Atlanta I found myself becoming more and more anxious about seeing my family again. It had been so long and I’d fled in the middle of the night without any idea of where I was going or how the hell I was going to get there. I reluctantly started thinking over the days after I left; what I was trying to gain from remembering this, I have no idea but it seemed appropriate what with the short chronicle of my life already wasting the otherwise unused space on the laptop’s hard drive. Something about writing it all down just seemed to make peace of mind take hold. Within a few minutes I heard announcement about landing and the conditions at Hartsfield International Airport and the greater Atlanta area. I was defiantly not dressed for May in Georgia, hell I was barley dressed for May in Maine. I shrugged as the plane started its decent; the speed and angle seemed a little much to me but what do I know, I’m only a civilian.

[winged]

(the end of what i've written so far, ties in with my last post, I want any critisim you can offer)

As we neared the ground an alarm started blaring and the oxygen bags deployed from over head. Women and children started wailing in the rush of panic that swept through the rows of passengers around me. For some reason terror was not my first response, I was curious. Its in my nature but this was extreme for me; wondering why I’d die before it killed me, not even screaming for my life. The plane nosed down into a small building on the far edge of the air field. The entire cabin burst into flames as the fuel tanks exploded and vaporized the seats around me; yet unscathed I sat watching everyone die around me. Again a feeling of curiosity struck me, more interested was I in why I was not burned to cinders rather than thanking some god above that I was alive anyways. I got up slowly and moved down one of the charred isles. My eyes took stock of the bodies and luggage that had been thrown about in the impact. Something in the back of my mind told me this was very wrong but I couldn’t place why. As I moved deeper into the plane’s wreckage I found more and more interest in the bodies, like who they were and what had killed them; rather the flames or some injury from the jolt of impact. I found myself acting more like a mortician than a survivor of the wreck. Soon the bodies started looking familiar, like I was passing by the same one’s over and over again but that couldn’t be, I hadn’t turned to go back yet there they were; the same mother and child pair from before, she had died from obvious head trauma, the boy however had survived the impact and had died of burns