Magpie Tales #34

She snatched up the lamp as she hurtled down the corridor, praying that one of the doors would be unlocked.

The next one…the next one…perhaps the next one… she thought as the heavy footsteps approached ever closer. She dreaded to think what would happen if she didn’t find a hiding place. One of these doors had to be open.

Clunk, clunk, clunk.

They were right behind her.

“Found you,” came the soft, hateful voice. She screamed as she dropped the lamp, shattering it and extinguishing any light that she could have used to see her captor.

“Now be a good Earthwalker and follow me,” the voice said. She felt a cold hand grasp her arm, sending cold shudders down her spine. “Or I will have to use force.”

“What are you going to do with me?” she whimpered piteously.

He chuckled softly. “Prisoners don’t get their questions answered,” he said. His face was too close to hers. She could almost feel the cold emanating from his body.

Deciding it was useless to try and escape, she followed him down the dark corridor until they reached a door.

“Now, give me the key,” he told her.

“But---”

“The key, Evangeline.” He fairly growled at her.

“I don’t have a---”

“In your pocket.”

And as he said the words, she felt an unmistakable weight in her pocket. Stunned, she reached into the soft folds of her gown and withdrew an ornately designed silver key.

“Now, unlock the door,” he hissed, shoving her toward the door. She did as she was told and opened the door.

Where there should have been a sitting room, there was just more hateful darkness. But it was a strange darkness. It seemed to seep into the room like some kind of mist or fog. Yet, all she felt was a cutting wind.

“Inside,”

And taking a deep breath, she stepped into the darkness, desperately hoping she would not be sucked under.

Microfiction Monday - #50

She watched the last ship

disappear over the horizon

wondering when she would see him again...

Three Word Wednesday #208 - engulf, imminent, tamper

             I lazily ran my fingers across the ancient leather backs of the books on the shelf as I walked past them. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m a complete bookworm and I love the written word. But I’ve read most of these books before. Macbeth, Hamlet, The Odyssey, and so many more. I needed something new. Something I could really sink my teeth into. Something that would completely engulf me emotionally, mentally, and physically. I wanted something to become obsessed with again.

            “Are you absolutely positive you haven’t gotten anything new yet, Dan?” I called down the aisles.

            “Pretty sure,” the old librarian replied, feebly hobbling over to where I stood.

            “All right,” I sighed. “I’m just going to take another look around. Maybe I missed something.”

            “If you want to, Tia.” He said as he hobbled away again amongst the books.

            I made my way back to the first aisle and started to look at every single book I passed. There had to be something here that caught my eye. There always was, after all. It was easier to get into the books here. I mean, really get into them. I'm talking being sucked into the pages of the book. I literally watched Oedipus resist against the songs of the Sirens and find his way back to Ithaca last week. And the week before that, I listened to the prophecy the witches made for Macbeth. So why, why, why couldn’t I find a good book this week?

            I closed my eyes, letting my mind wander until it came in contact with something. Eyes still closed, I followed the call of the book until I was standing right in front of it. My eyes snapped open, only to find a dog-eared volume with no title, author or any other inscription on the faded black leather cover. I eyed it suspiciously. Father had told me not to tamper with suspicious books. Or I’d be sucked in immediately.

            I closed my eyes again, searching for a new book, but all I could hear was the haunting melody of the tattered book I had just left.

            Maybe you’re supposed to find this book, my subconscious told me.

            I took a deep breath and turned back to the book. It stood there on the shelf, taunting me, tempting me to open it’s torn cover and look at whatever treasure lay hidden within. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, I snapped up the book and immediately felt a connection. As if it somehow attached itself to my hand. Alarmed, I tried to let go, but I couldn’t. Instead, it opened and I saw that imminent white light as I was sucked into the torn, yellow pages.

Carry On Tuesday #72

It started out as a feeling (they always do, you know). Just a small feeling.

Flutters in her stomach every time he walked by.

Catching herself looking at him without knowing she was.

Suddenly noticing that his eyes weren’t grey, but actually a very very deep blue.

Things like that. Little things. After all, it is the little things in life that make us appreciate it all the more.

Why was this happening, though? How had he gotten past all the defenses she had put up? She had sworn never to love again. Not after Gabriel. She had sworn never to commit the same folly. What real need was there for love? She had done just fine before Gabriel.

But then Micah came along with his warm smile and open hands. With his ocean eyes and sea beach hugs. How could she have let him soften her? How had he wormed his way into her life and nestled himself comfortably in her heart. And why why why wasn’t she resisting? Surely that’s what she should be doing.

Yet, something about him made her want him all the more. He was a good person, after all. Not all men were scum like Gabriel. In fact, Micah and Gabriel were at opposite ends of the spectrum. Gracious, kindhearted Micah contrasted with dark, selfish Gabriel.

Perhaps this was just the beginning. A new beginning. A new story. Or maybe it would come to nothing.

Only time would tell.

Poetry Class Poem #1 - Crash

Metal meets metal.

A deafening roar.

Two bodies entwined together

in blood and in gore.

Crash.

Sirens sound, detached noise,

Paramedics rushing to the floor

where two bodies twist together

not knowing what’s in store.

Crash.

They should have listened,

too drunk to find the door.

Yet they insisted on driving,

And now their eyes see no more.

Crash.

Sunday Scribblings #234 - Love

They walked side by side. Together physically, but emotionally and spiritually separated by an ever-deepening rift. He held her hand loosely in his own but did not look at her, fearing – no, loathing the thought of her fearful, tear-stained face.

In front of them, the dark waters glided as one. A few fishermen boats could be discerned from the darkness. The sun was not yet up, but this did not hinder the hardy fisherman. A single star was visible in the cloudy expanse above the sea. He had told her that it was theirs. The star would burn for as long as he loved her.

He released her hand and strode to a bench. There were so many memories here. Sighing with nostalgia, he turned to her, their eyes meeting for the first time in three days. For the first time since he discovered her secret.

She opened her mouth. “Oh, Ronnie I’m sorry,” she whispered, reaching for him. He shrugged away, looking out to the sea.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” his voice was gentler than he wanted. Too warm. Too intimate.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“But you did.” This time, he could not keep the anger and sadness from his voice.

“If I could do it over---”

“You can’t,” he growled.

She reached for him again. This time, he didn’t shy away from her touch. Squeezing his shoulder, she stood beside him. Just like she did the night they met. He embraced her, disregarding his weakness for her. This time, she held him up. Supported him like he did her that day so long ago. Across the sea, a ray of the sun’s light emerged, renewed.

They would get through this.

Three Word Wednesday #207 - gait, nudge, ripen

She watched him walk through the market. He had a strange, slow gait. Almost loping. Like a lion’s. It was majestic in a way, she supposed. Even he had some beauty about him. A blind beggar. Always there. Feeling his way about, that mongrel always jumping by his feet, barking incessantly. She was a noblewoman, but for some reason she found him intriguing. The way he never seemed miserable.

Why was it that she, a noblewoman who had everything money could buy, felt miserable, but he, a blind beggar, seemed to have no worries at all? How could that be possible? How could he be happier than she? She didn’t understand it. Her maid nudged her slightly.

“Come, Your Ladyship. We are expected back at the fort by five,” the maid told her, leading her away from the crowded market and back to the carriage.

“Just a moment more,” she replied, shaking off her maid and turning back toward the market.

Everyone seemed happy. Except for her. Children chased each other around the stalls, and the general commotion was somehow comforting. Not like the complete silence back at the fort. No, there she had curfews and rules to follow. She must learn Latin. And Greek. And ladylike skills such as sewing and looking pretty. None of the women here at the market needed to waste their time learning such trifling things. They could look at the ripened apples and pumpkins stacked in little towers of red, green, gold, and orange. Fabric from the East, tinted with indigo dye and lined with gold thread. Trinkets and baubles in another corner. There was just so much life here. Life that seemed nonexistent in the fort.

“We must go, My Lady,” the maid said, tugging her arm gently. “The market will come in again in a fortnight. His Lordship is waiting for you in the fort. You musn’t keep him waiting.”

She sighed. “Yes, mustn’t keep him waiting,” she said as she turned back toward her carriage.

Haiku Heights #10 - Sacred

An occasion bright

The bride glides in joyfully,

For the sacred vow

Magpie Tales #33

Amber poison

rushing through our veins

every time we stop

to take a sip.

Amber poison

enticing each victim

with its rich aroma

and elegant form.

Amber poison

dripping slowly from

the glass as they

sip it sophisticatedly

Amber poison

leaving them lying

unconscious on the floor

until they wake up

Amber poison

a slow killer

craftily making its way

until it takes over.

Thursday Tales #26

We sat on the wall, in the same position we were in thirteen years ago. Five years old seems too young. But it wasn’t. We both knew we were meant to be together. Sure, throwing that pecan pie at her during the fifth grade picnic wasn’t the best way to show her how I felt. What can you expect from a fifth grader? Subtlety was never a strength of mine, after all.

But the fact that she didn’t cold shoulder me forever must have meant something. Maybe she remembered that afternoon, too. thirteen years ago. We were sitting on the park wall and she was crying because she’d dropped her teddy bear. I picked it up and kissed her cheek to make her feel better.

She knocked me off the wall.

But then, she laughed. And that was all I wanted. Even back then. I’d rather fall off a wall than see her cry.

And I’ve never truly told her how I felt. I just get so tongue tied when I’m around her. Even thought we’ve known each other almost all our lives.

When I see her at school, with her golden hair catching the sunlight just right, I lose my breath.

When she grins at me mischievously while smart mouthing the teacher, I can’t look away.

She hypnotizes me. Utterly and completely under her control, I watch her.

And the car rides home. I drop her off, and we do our homework together, her Mom sometimes bringing us up a plate of fresh cookies. There were so many times I just wanted to kiss her. Taste her rosy lips. Show her how I felt.

But I never did.

And now it was thirteen years from then. She was with another man. Someone who had the guts to tell her he loved her. But he could never ever love her as much as I did. How could he? He didn’t know what made her laugh. He didn’t know her secrets. He probably didn’t even know that she loves peanut butter on her Oreos. He couldn’t possibly know her like I did.

But he still had the guts to love her openly.

And now, she was his.

Image by: http://putrapipupepo.tumblr.com/post/1130119852

First Ever College Classes

So, yesterday I had my first ever college class. Just one yesterday. That was nice. It was a Creative Writing class for Poetry. I need to write a poem a week for nine weeks, something that I won't have any trouble with. And the best thing is? I'll get to post up the poems I write on here!

I was back from class pretty early. At nine in the morning actually, which felt good. I had nothing to do after that, so my friend and I just biked around, looking for other classes we had to make sure we wouldn't get lost (a feat I have, so far, succeeded in) and we went all the way to Cuarto.

Now let me tell you something. Cuarto? It's pretty far. For someone who hasn't been on a bike for that long, anyways. It was manageable, but MAN am I glad that I don't live in Cuarto. I truly feel for the people who have to bike all the way from Cuarto to campus.

"Did she say to campus?"

Yes, reader. I did. Cuarto happens to be off campus, unlike Tercero and Segundo. Thankfully I reside in one of the latter two. Which one, you ask? Not telling. Don't want a possible stalker now, do I? Let's just say that I can get to my classes on time and leave it at that.

And then today I had two classes. Something I wasn't looking forward to at first. Chemistry and then Calculus. My two least favorite classes. But then I met the teachers, both of whom are very interesting people and are very enthusiastic about their subject. I always think a good teacher is enthusiastic about the subject he or she is teaching. And these two seemed to truly love their subject. I think I'm actually going to like these two classes. I know, I know. Crazy, right? It's true. I guess a good teacher makes for a good class.

And now, I'm going to be going back home for the weekend to see my family and to pick up some stuff that I, being me, forgot at home. I get to spend the rest of today the whole of tomorrow and most of the day after at home, and I'm thrilled. No, that's not sarcasm that you sense. I actually am looking forward to seeing my family. I miss them. I admit it. But life goes on!

I'll update you guys soon.

Ciao!

Sunday Scribblings #233 - Clean

           She breathed in the scent of clean linen. This was how it was supposed to be. Cleansed of all stains and blemishes. Smelling as sweet as the grass, as it swayed in the wind. She could think of only one word. Beautiful. It was like starting afresh. Just like she had when she moved out to the seaside. Away from all the hustle and bustle of the city. It was just so peaceful here. The sound of the ocean waves crashing onto the jagged rocks. She wondered why she hadn’t thought of it before. Moving out of the city. It was just what the doctor ordered.

            She had bought a house on a cliff, overlooking the eternal expanse of the ocean below. The entire place looked clean. The white-tipped waves that united with the rocks, only to be torn away again.

            Torn away.

            A violent term for something so sad. Yet fitting for something so painful. She closed her eyes, trying to forget everything from that night.

            The night she packed.

            The night she left him forever.

            The night she came here. To the sea. Almost as if it were whispering her name. It just took her twenty years to hear it. To listen to it. To follow it. And now that she did, there was no going back. She had followed it halfway across the country. Away from all her troubles and worries. Throwing them out to the sea to be washed and cleansed and to come back up, clean and white like the linen that fluttered in the sea wind.

College!

Well, it's final. I moved in, and UC Davis is now my home away from home. My roommate is pretty awesome (we have a lot in common) and I've met a couple of floormates. This in particular is pretty new for me, seeing as I'm pretty introverted. I like the feeling that there are new people to meet. I just have trouble getting up and meeting them. Some of them made it easier. Like these three guys who knocked on our door. I invited them in (surprising myself in doing so) and we talked for a bit. They seemed like very nice people and they told my roommate and me to just drop by whenever we felt like it.

Maybe I'll take them up on that offer. We'll see, I suppose.

I also got a feel for the university today when I went biking with Parichay and Sarthak. At first I didn't intend to go biking, but I met up with them, and they convinced me to bike around with them, so I did. It was so much fun! I didn't realize that their dorm building was so close to mine. I met Pranaya later on, too, and we want to visit the Arboretum tomorrow.

When my family left to go back home, I felt a little sad. I've never been good at showing my emotions or talking about them, so I don't know how I'll deal with homesickness, which has already started to settle itself down in my heart. It will soon be evicted. Thrown out and replaced with a sense of belonging, hopefully. I have two homes now, so I'm happy for that.

Tomorrow is another day, bringing with it new surprises and (hopefully) friends, as well.

Ciao!

Welcome to the World of Technology

Welcome, my children, to the world of technology. I caution thee to severely watch thy step, lest ye get swept away by the new technology wave that doth hover 'bove the nation. Nay! The world! New fangled contraptions like computers hath taken the place of the omnipresent parchment and quill. Instead of the letters we often send to our lovers and kinsmen, we now send cold, unfeeling text messages. The sweet, poetic English language hath been compressed excessively and hath been forced to bend down to the will of the new tyrant.

Wires and cables doth choke the land, and metal carriages race across nations within days. The ways of the old have disappeared to make way for the damnable new. I, too, have been swept, my children, and I have come to warn thee not to commit the same error that I hath foolishly made. I, once naive, believed in that technology could solve many problems that doth vex our world. Folly, I say! For instead of offering assistance, this new tool strangled us and kept us in chains, forever bound to its damnable head.

Yet, I do not say to avoid this new tool completely. Use it, but use it well. Lest you sweep away and drown in the future. And from there, my dear children, there be no return. Once thou hath entered that labyrinth of obsession, thou hath lost thyself to the demon puppeteer which keeps all on a leash, relishing in each usage of its charms.

Sunday Scribblings - #232 Treatment

            Happy birthday, Dad. I thought to myself as I rode on the carrousel. It was a white horse with a pink plastic mane and blue eyes that were glazed over. I used to come here every time the carnival came in when I was a little girl, clinging to my father’s hand as he pointed to the array of boats on the lake, promising to take me out onto the ocean someday.

            It has now been twenty years since he made that promise, and it still hadn’t been fulfilled. It couldn’t. Not when he was six feet under. He was diagnosed with prostate cancer six years ago and died the following year. I went to his funeral, but couldn’t shed a tear. There I was, amongst dozens of sobbing women and somber men, and I couldn’t shed a tear for my own father. I don’t know why he stopped chemo. It was helping him a little. Not a lot, but at least it helped a little. He stopped treatment and went to live at our beach house. I went with him and spent the whole year there. One whole year out of my life for the man who’d given me nineteen years of his. I wish I could have done more. More to show him I love him. More to repay the wonderful years he gave me.

            So I did.

            I made sure that he never wanted for anything during that one last year. I made sure he was happy and content and loved until the moment he took his very last breath. I took him out every day just so he could walk along the beach like he used to with Mom before she died in the crash. As time went by, he would take more “breathing stops” until he finally couldn’t get out of bed to go any more. He made me go, though, and when I came back he’d say “You smell just like the sea, Tillie,” giving me that soft smile that now took up so much energy to make.

            And here I was, five years after he died, riding on the carrousel and looking out toward the ocean that seemed to stretch on forever.

            He was happy.

Sunday Scribblings - #228 View

So, I'm rearranging my Blog (probably not going to have buttons on the top), and this is the first Sunday Scribblings I ever did.

#228 - View

Gazing out the window,

a glorious sunset

graces my eyes.

Hues of red and gold

soon morph into silver

as the sun tints the clouds.

The waves of the ocean

reflect the beauty

ever changing and ephemeral.

Calm settles down

as the stars are scattered

across indigo tinted skies.

The wind sings the night in

with Siren like sweetness,

lulling the world to sleep.

Moving Forward

Well, in ten days' time, I'll be taking the next big step in my up-to-now quite brief and uneventful life.

College.

Most high school seniors regard this word with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. And for me, it's no different.

I'm scared. I admit it.

But, that shouldn't hold me back. SO, I'm going to blog about the things I'm looking forward to to [a] make myself feel better and [b] actually put something up on this blog for once.

Things I'm looking forward to:
1. New friends
2. Learning new things
3. Being independent
4. Going through the exciting and life-changing (or, so I'm told) "college experience."
5. Getting new writing material
6. Trying horse-back riding
7. Trying fencing
8. Trying new things in general
9. Working on the literary magazine at college
10. Finding what I'm TRULY passionate in and pursuing it
11. Discovering new things about myself
12. Discovering new things about life
13. Discovering things in general
14. Biking across campus
15. Being able to visit Sacramento whenever I want (hey, it IS the state capital)
16. Being free to go where I want when I want to
17. Being able to make my own decisions without having to ask anyone else
18. Being able to visit the animals on a regular basis
19. Truly living

I suppose life at college won't be that bad now, will it?