Words

The road is the only way to go
casting shadows on the moon.
Mother and child laying in the woods
waiting for the chance to run.

I saw you in the sea reaching out for me
that's why I tried to save you
but my feet tangled in the reeds.
They brought me to my knees.

I followed you down to the water bend
you cupped your hands
and called to your friend.
The water rose from the stream with ease
and wrapped you in a lover's fold.

I'm sitting all alone
filling my head with emotions
just to feel something.
I'm sitting all alone
pricking my finger with a needle
just to feel a thing.
-so the story goes.

One, two, three
Jimmy throw down your pail
help us build this factory.
This pyre will feed your children
and their children to come.

Trying something new.

I'm going to stop the random postings on my stories to help encourage myself to finish. So, stand by. I'm working on a pretty epic piece. :)

Lexume

The further existence of humanity depends on one key piece of information.. Something written in a small, delicate journal bound together with a withered piece of twine.

Do you ever get the feeling that it's just not your day? Well, I know right when I wake up and take my first conscious breath of chilly, morning air; today is not my day. I push myself onto my elbows and the migraine follows shortly; a pounding, reckless driver inside of my head. My teeth begin to chatter as I notice two things simultaneously: my window is wide open and I'm naked. My skin is almost blue. I wrap my thin comforter around my icy body, with teeth chattering, I get up to thaw out in the shower. I make my way across the room with painful tip toes as I try to move with the blanket, accomplishing a waddle, really.

Something is not right, I think, as I reach for the door handle. I look up to see a sloppy note stuck to my door with a very thin blade. My heart jumps at the oddity of the blade and it's violence towards my poor, wooden door, or myself if I had been awake.
"Meet me at Fountain Square: 3 p.m. sharp.. X"
I don't know what X means nor am I excited to find out. I crack my door enough to stick my head out, "mom!" I yell once, twice with persistence but still no response.

First things first, I'm late for school.

I step out and take a look at my surroundings. Section 9, is the place that I call home, unit 28a. It's a mile stretch each section with units on both sides of the street. It's an easy walk once I get out of my Section. There are 40 Sections to our District and they are laid out like toothpicks surrounding the city. So as each person takes their commute they walk straight into the heart of the city from their Sections. The Governmental Forces of Lexume worry less when they can keep an eye on everyone so easily.

I pass by the Gardener's home, unit 20a, and a chill climbs the back of my neck. He always seems to know when I pass --I get a glimpse of the upstairs curtain rustling. "You're quick for your age!" I yell childishly at the window as I keep my pace, eventually passing the blasted house. I've never been on good terms with him, no matter how hard I try.

When I enter the city I decide to take a slight detour towards Fountain Square. I slap my forehead as I realize that I forgot the note. "Blasted!" I yell at the ground as I hold my forehead in my hand, still stinging from the sudden slap. I reach the Square and find the nearest bench to stand on to scope out the view. I admit, on top it's not a better view, it's just that I enjoy the air of power the height brings.

Around this time the Square is littered with commuters. Young to middle-aged adults bustle through reading papers or chattering with their partners. Women pushing their young in strollers along the paths lined with wild daisies. A young couple sit side by side on the fountain's edge eating cookies from a paper bag. I sigh as I take in the handfuls of life happening before my eyes. That's when I see him --dark hat casting a shadow across an even darker face. A long black jacket with a raised collar so high that it shields his view on all sides. He's standing on a bench opposite me on the other side of the Square staring in my direction. My heart begins to palpitate and I choke on my breath. Something about this situation and image is completely horrifying to me, but I can't place it yet. All that I know is this is not good. He brings his right hand to his face and holds it there for a few seconds, as if speaking to his watch. He steps down from the bench and proceeds into the middle of the Square. I leap over the back of the bench, catch my footing, and take off in a sprint towards the school.

My instincts keep screaming -never run into that man, again.

I arrive at school with heavy feet as the exhaustion engulfs me. Not a particularly long run but the adrenaline has arrested most of my energy leaving me feeling rubbery. I drag my feet to class, which has already started. The creak from the classroom door halts Miss Tenneco mid-sentence and she glares at me through round-rimmed glasses. I ignore the 20 sets of beady eyes following me to my seat. My chair feels like an ice cube and it pierces my skin instantly through my clothes. I clench my jaw from the shock and a giggle erupts to my right. --Vivian Hart basks in the glory of making anyone feel uncomfortable in their own skin. I shoot her a glare only my horrible morning can produce and she throws her gaze forward. Miss Tenneco scoffs and adjusts her glasses atop her tiny, yet crooked nose and continues with her lecture.

All morning I lose myself completely in my silly day dreams. This morning in particulate my day dreams bring on an uneasy feeling of fear and confusion. I'm recounting my distant, yet personal, encounter with that strange man. Then there is the note..

Are they related? Is he X? He couldn't be, really, because this stranger in the Square was something to fear. X left the note in my room personally, if he was something to fear he would have cut my throat while I slept, avoiding this silly tag-your-it game. Why couldn't this X just wake me up to talk with me? Coward. Wait, creep! He was in my room.. Who do I know that hates me? Oh, silly, that's impossible to narrow down. What kind of name is-- BUZZ-BUZZ-BUZZ.

The lunch bell shakes me back to reality and the air is filled with loud shuffling; anxious children patter towards the classroom door to fill their bellies or to catch up on the latest gossip. I wait for the rush to cease and grab my things, stuffing them into my bag with a dazed and absent mind. I forgot a lunch, I think to myself as I make my way out the door. Without looking up from her paper Miss Tenneco utters, "be on time, always, in the future" with a stern and dominating tone. "Yes, Ma'am," I mumble under my breath.

I sit in my usual spot for lunch under locker number 322. I'm snug, across from the second set of doors opening into the crowded cafeteria. From here I can watch everyone at a safe distance, eating their food, gossiping, or throwing things at unsuspecting victims. Why do I feel like I'll never belong? Amelia interrupts my cynical thoughts by shoving a slice of tuna sandwich in my face.
"You're a savior, Ame. I forgot a lunch today." I say as I wrap my fingers around the sandwich, salivating, just a little.
"Like always. What's your excuse this morning?" She pushes her glasses further up her acne-ridden nose. The thing I love about Amelia is that she's not perfect nor does she even try. She's Amelia, simple and astounding. "A pack of rabid wolves break into your room in the middle of the night to crown you their leader?" She grabs her side and giggles into the puff of hair bound to the side of her head.
"Cute, Ame. Today was weird.." As I begin to tell her about the note and the man in the park, a darkness rolls over the skylights and daylight seems to turn to dusk. A loud click of metal rings through the school and for a moment everyone looks up to the sky; eyes of confusion cast up searching for an answer or reassurance. Simultaneous clicks sounds off through out the school, as if all the doors are being locked. The intercom clicks on and sends a vibrating, low static. Ame and I look at each other for the last time in fluorescent light, our fear etched on each other's face, and then the lights shut off. The screams come and I'm on my feet pulling Ame to hers...

Awe.

There is this one song I've had for years on my computer, but I never listened to it. As if by a calling, my mouse simply floated to it and double clicked. A haunting strum invades my ears and I open my hands to it. I extend my arms and allow the song to completely take hold of me..

It's beautiful and it's giving me the image of dancing on icebergs, twirling graciously around as they float through life, silently, colliding with others.. Making no sound whatsoever, because who is there to hear? Absolute solitude. Beautiful whites having a dance of their own in water so blue it makes me want to cry. The breeze is animated with little, white curly-cues dipping and curling through the scene. Here, the stars are your best companion.

(Drifting off in the water with no direction whatsoever.)

If I opened my hands to you what would you do?

Please tell me: What is happiness to you?

Tip of The Iceberg.

Her breath twists and turns, forming into solid lies that float into the breeze.
She makes her home in the snow flakes; her skin as translucent as the ice she dances on.
"We are a lonely breed," she sings to the stars at night, in solitude.

Stay, don't go.

Sensing your distress, shaking it off like a piece of dust.
An old man places his wrinkled hand on my chest and mouths the words, "you can breathe again" into the air. My mouth glues shut as I try to warn him, but the shove comes too soon. "I can't swim, sir" I yell as the water envelopes me taking me to it's world down below. I wash up onto a forbidden shore, blue and yellow, from the beatings of the waves. A little, naked boy runs up to my limp and bound body. His foot meets my chest and he giggles and runs off into the tropical growth.
The bubble will burst.
I throw up the contents of an aquarium on the beach; colorful fishes, various plants, and grains of sand passed through me. I lay on my back with bile running down my cheek.
The bubble will burst.
The bindings on my body slowly melt under the hot sun; dissolving into sizzles of smoke. Fragile smoke people start taking form, joining hands and chanting up my legs to congregate on my stomach, "wake up, wake up, wake up!" they chant in high, shrill voices. I throw my my arm through them with a start and they break and swirl into nothingness.
The bubble will burst.
I lay my head back down and let the sand swallow me up, taking me to a new world.

The Harpy

Every instinct and intuition awoke in Ly and she quickly opened her eyes to an eerie darkness. Her eyes adjusted with protest and a faint screech lingered in the high skies. She was laying in a bed of high grass as dead as the sense of safety right now.

The wind whipped across her face in sporadic gusts- pushing her body, slightly, to and fro. The silence was deafening, like two unforgiving hands pressing each side of her head together. She got to her feet, which were bare, and took a few steps into the grassland. The sound of grass beneath her feet was barely audible.

Where are my shoes?

A high shriek pierced the silence above her. A dark figure loomed in the sky, circling her with massive and powerful wings. Confusion and fear enveloped Ly and her feet faltered, tripping over one another as she began to run -heading anywhere but here. The figure lowered into view and Ly saw- with a gut-wrenching realization- what was hunting her. A massive harpy, half-bird half-woman, with blood-matted hair spilling over her bare chest. It's breasts sagged with age and horror; eyes red and bloodshot; mouth chapped with crusted blood and bile. The stench of the harpy wrapped itself around Ly who was still running, panting, heart beating like a ticking time bomb in it's final seconds. Don't stop. Don't slow down. She told herself.

One last glance behind her shows the cracked claw of the harpy outstretched inches from her head, it's mouth open and salivating.. Beneath her feet the surface of the earth changes into planks of wood. She bumps into a large, poorly crafted wooden table in the center of what looks like a little shack. The noise from outside ceases as the wooden door of the shack slams shut on it's own accord.

Gasping for breath, Ly grabs a handful of her shirt and falls to her knees with exhaustion and fear pounding in her veins. She notices something rough in her hand that holds her shirt, bundled, as if for comfort. There is a folded piece of paper in her hand..