Sunday, June 23, 2013
Wolves
The wind whistled solemnly against my ear, a sort of moanish, tired whisper. I smothered the weak, yellow fire over my campsite and set into my tent, completely regretting my goggled swim in the sticky, stench-filled bug-spray. I sneezed.
My tent was a dark, camouflaging bluish-black, partially met with a vanilla-white color at the top. I couldn't help rubbing my nails against its fabric for that soft, zizzly overlapping plastic sound.
Slipping out of my gigantic polo vest, I snuggled into my similarly textured sleeping bag. Getting comfortable, I began to feel my eyes flicker. And then I heard it.
A strong, angry howling, East of my tent. Followed with similar wolf calls, the voice grew closer. I closed my eyes. "Oh, please no." I grabbed my rifle and held close to the trigger.
Suddenly, I saw a dog-like shadow close against the walls of my shelter. I winced, hugging the rifle closer to my chest. In truth, I'd never used a gun before. I didn't understand its potential. So guiltlessly, I shot.
For moments, there was no other sound. Just silence and realization. But then came moans. Shrieks. Screams. Against the better good, I peered through the open tent.
I had shot a mother. Her cub and pack right beside, mourning. This wasn't right. Mothers stayed behind. Cubs didn't hunt! My world began to spin. Slowly, one by one, wolves dove toward me, baring fangs and hissing threats. I dropped my weapon and let them.
My tent was a dark, camouflaging bluish-black, partially met with a vanilla-white color at the top. I couldn't help rubbing my nails against its fabric for that soft, zizzly overlapping plastic sound.
Slipping out of my gigantic polo vest, I snuggled into my similarly textured sleeping bag. Getting comfortable, I began to feel my eyes flicker. And then I heard it.
A strong, angry howling, East of my tent. Followed with similar wolf calls, the voice grew closer. I closed my eyes. "Oh, please no." I grabbed my rifle and held close to the trigger.
Suddenly, I saw a dog-like shadow close against the walls of my shelter. I winced, hugging the rifle closer to my chest. In truth, I'd never used a gun before. I didn't understand its potential. So guiltlessly, I shot.
For moments, there was no other sound. Just silence and realization. But then came moans. Shrieks. Screams. Against the better good, I peered through the open tent.
I had shot a mother. Her cub and pack right beside, mourning. This wasn't right. Mothers stayed behind. Cubs didn't hunt! My world began to spin. Slowly, one by one, wolves dove toward me, baring fangs and hissing threats. I dropped my weapon and let them.
Saturday, June 22, 2013
Realization
I giggled excitedly inside my nightgown, just barely escaping discovery. Lightly crashing into my covers, I began to hear voices. Sighing, I closed my eyes, knowing the conversation did not concern me. Still, my ears pricked slightly. I could see Mummy's shadow casted against the vanilla walls of the hallway, long and thin, addressing Daddy humorlessly. I listened on.
"What will we do?" Daddy asked, set in a worried, pressured tone.
"Shhhh! So not to wake the child!" Mummy hushed, whispering much louder than Daddy ever spoke. "And as for now, we must flee."
"Run?" he asked, still not whispering. "After everything, we run?"
"After Jimmy's... leaving, we must."
I gasped, recognizing that word- "leaving". And, Uncle Jimmy, he was the one who lost caused Mummy's baby's miscarriage. Fleetingly, a memory alit my mind.
Uncle Jim's warm, cocoa brown eyes and deep oak-colored mustache entered the living room, coughing up their entrance.
"Ahem." He stated, failingly attempting to shrink his massive, clumsy, shadow. "Uha... Uh... hi, Lina. Jack," he turned toward me, "Joe Anne," and nodded embarrassedly.
Noticing the silence, I didn't respond. After a while, Mom finally stopped sipping coffee and stood up.
"Can I get you something to drink, Jim?" Uncle Jimmy nodded. "A uh... Water, if-if you would."
Mum stepped briskly out of the room, not caring to nod or even answer. I barely moved.
Mummy came back with water and set it on the table. "Here, Jimmy."
From my view, the water seemed a tad discolored. I could say the same for Mom.
Jimmy, politely, drank.
Last of Uncle Jim, was then, 'far as I could tell. But now, I saw it differently than choking water. I his under the covers.
"What will we do?" Daddy asked, set in a worried, pressured tone.
"Shhhh! So not to wake the child!" Mummy hushed, whispering much louder than Daddy ever spoke. "And as for now, we must flee."
"Run?" he asked, still not whispering. "After everything, we run?"
"After Jimmy's... leaving, we must."
I gasped, recognizing that word- "leaving". And, Uncle Jimmy, he was the one who lost caused Mummy's baby's miscarriage. Fleetingly, a memory alit my mind.
Uncle Jim's warm, cocoa brown eyes and deep oak-colored mustache entered the living room, coughing up their entrance.
"Ahem." He stated, failingly attempting to shrink his massive, clumsy, shadow. "Uha... Uh... hi, Lina. Jack," he turned toward me, "Joe Anne," and nodded embarrassedly.
Noticing the silence, I didn't respond. After a while, Mom finally stopped sipping coffee and stood up.
"Can I get you something to drink, Jim?" Uncle Jimmy nodded. "A uh... Water, if-if you would."
Mum stepped briskly out of the room, not caring to nod or even answer. I barely moved.
Mummy came back with water and set it on the table. "Here, Jimmy."
From my view, the water seemed a tad discolored. I could say the same for Mom.
Jimmy, politely, drank.
Last of Uncle Jim, was then, 'far as I could tell. But now, I saw it differently than choking water. I his under the covers.
Friday, June 21, 2013
Father
The room was hot and humid. Along the heat, came mosquitoes and gas. Perhaps a toss of garbage-maybe carcass?
My father circled hostilely around me, muttering foreign words and shouts.
"I give food. Water. Home!" He threw a phonebook on the table beside me, ramming his hand against the tattered pages. "You give NOTHING!"
I cringed. "Yes, Father."
He slapped the book onto the ground. "No." He smiled baringly at me, bringing his heated breath close to my cheek. "No." He laughed. Then stopped seeing my expression. "No, no, no, NO!" he shrieked, beating the wooden table madly at each one. He looked at me again, almost spitting, now. "You see, I don't have to give!" He stared. " I can take."
With that, he pushed the table over, threw the lamp, and turned, once more toward me. Tears streaming down my cheeks I nodded quickly. "Y-yes, Fa-", I began, cut off by two strong, angry hands at my throat, squeezing it.
"Die, stupid child. Die!" And then Mother came in, crying and carrying a gun.
My father circled hostilely around me, muttering foreign words and shouts.
"I give food. Water. Home!" He threw a phonebook on the table beside me, ramming his hand against the tattered pages. "You give NOTHING!"
I cringed. "Yes, Father."
He slapped the book onto the ground. "No." He smiled baringly at me, bringing his heated breath close to my cheek. "No." He laughed. Then stopped seeing my expression. "No, no, no, NO!" he shrieked, beating the wooden table madly at each one. He looked at me again, almost spitting, now. "You see, I don't have to give!" He stared. " I can take."
With that, he pushed the table over, threw the lamp, and turned, once more toward me. Tears streaming down my cheeks I nodded quickly. "Y-yes, Fa-", I began, cut off by two strong, angry hands at my throat, squeezing it.
"Die, stupid child. Die!" And then Mother came in, crying and carrying a gun.
Blind
Sweat rolled drowsily down my forehead as I jogged across the bumpy road. The smooth white wires of my MP3 player bumped annoyingly against my chest and neck, every-so-often snagging against my shirt and falling off for my continual rearranging.
The sky was growing dark, and, like a good 36 year-old adult, I jogged on.
Halfway past my excersize-bravery, I stopped. Lurching against the speed of my own figure, I fell.
Somewhere between the jog, I felt a wall of negativity plurge against me. Behind me, I felt movement. Again, closer now, through the feedings of me pupils. I gasped sunconsciously. I chill jumped my hairs.
"H-hello?" I managed, pulling the music buds off my ear. "Hello?"
Another skid behind me. Five seconds later I was blind. I could not even see black. My eyes processed nothing. Then pain. All around. Like frozen needles, hotter than the core of Earth. Deadlier than venom.
I screamed.
The sky was growing dark, and, like a good 36 year-old adult, I jogged on.
Halfway past my excersize-bravery, I stopped. Lurching against the speed of my own figure, I fell.
Somewhere between the jog, I felt a wall of negativity plurge against me. Behind me, I felt movement. Again, closer now, through the feedings of me pupils. I gasped sunconsciously. I chill jumped my hairs.
"H-hello?" I managed, pulling the music buds off my ear. "Hello?"
Another skid behind me. Five seconds later I was blind. I could not even see black. My eyes processed nothing. Then pain. All around. Like frozen needles, hotter than the core of Earth. Deadlier than venom.
I screamed.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Bugs
I blinked. All around me, trees and wild life encircled. The waterfalls sounding behind me clashed continually. I could feel myself be lost.
And suddenly, through the corner of my eye, I saw movement. A flush of surprise blew over me. Coming over with fear, I almost unreasonably feared a time where the weapons in my satchel would become of use.
Slowly, I turned toward it with full vision, no longer relying on my faulty peripheral. I screamed.
Jumping back pugnaciously, I felt the ground above me to steady my quivering body, only to be met with a second movement, now crawling across my arm. I screamed again.
Slowly, a sort of cold, shaky wetness enveloped my body. Examining myself, I found over a dozen insects. For a moment, all I could see were their legs.
Closer, closer.
Multiplying like numbers on a math sheet, I could suddenly feel bugs everywhere. My vision slurred. I tried to get up again. Failed.
I could feel them in my ears, my skull, my brain. Seething and fidgeting, foaming and destroying.
I could hear them in my head, clicking and rattling. I clamped my hands against my ears, up now. Slowly at first, I began to run. Leaving all of my belongings in a bundle.
Everywhere, every wood, even with closed eyes, I could see. The Scuttling.
Blindly, I reached for a knife and, inhesitantly, I plunged.
And suddenly, through the corner of my eye, I saw movement. A flush of surprise blew over me. Coming over with fear, I almost unreasonably feared a time where the weapons in my satchel would become of use.
Slowly, I turned toward it with full vision, no longer relying on my faulty peripheral. I screamed.
Jumping back pugnaciously, I felt the ground above me to steady my quivering body, only to be met with a second movement, now crawling across my arm. I screamed again.
Slowly, a sort of cold, shaky wetness enveloped my body. Examining myself, I found over a dozen insects. For a moment, all I could see were their legs.
Closer, closer.
Multiplying like numbers on a math sheet, I could suddenly feel bugs everywhere. My vision slurred. I tried to get up again. Failed.
I could feel them in my ears, my skull, my brain. Seething and fidgeting, foaming and destroying.
I could hear them in my head, clicking and rattling. I clamped my hands against my ears, up now. Slowly at first, I began to run. Leaving all of my belongings in a bundle.
Everywhere, every wood, even with closed eyes, I could see. The Scuttling.
Blindly, I reached for a knife and, inhesitantly, I plunged.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Excitement
Warm, quiet rays of yellow-translucent white filled my room, illuminating the book shelves and their many spines and covers as they did. I rolled over, stretching my eyes open. Barely conscious. Glancing up, I noticed the seeds in my garden blooming at last from their greenish shells. The uncommon loner blue jay of the street had appeared by my sill, mythed to spread luck. The bird chirped twice to me, sounding remarkably similar to the word "up, up", followed with an impatient peck to the glass. I giggled quietly. Stepping out from under my quilted covers , half stumbling, I stretched eagerly-my body barely responding. Today was the start of something spectacular, and I refused to let it pass me. I slipped into some field shoes and opened the window, surprised with an immense array of light and warmth.
Guilt
It started as an itch.
Resting by my ear.
An irritation, if anything at all.
Just a scratch would do.
But then came more. Like fireflies.
A burning white inside my mind.
At last the throbs.
Inside my stomach.
The knot a growing cobra.
Remembering, I scratched my skull, and then my mid.
And scratched.
Much more.
Throbs and pains and sticks in eyes.
Everything came clear.
I had lost the right to live. Or more, to die away the pain.
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Darkness
Dark. Cold. Gray.
Nothing.
I can't see.
Or hear.
Or hope.
Anything.
In the distance, the sky breaks.
How am I to know?
The stars shape into a single crack.
I can see.
My eyes light up like bulbs.
It was a new.
Perhaps I had misjudged black.
Maybe death is alright, now.
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