My Passions

I have many passions. One of those many is photography. I may not be the best photographer in the world. I know that. But I am getting better. I also know that for a fact.

 I think it really started when i got my first camera. I, of course, became one of those girls that was constantly taking selfies. Then i started taking pictures, not only of myself, but of my best friend too.

Every time that my best friend, Jamison, and I would have a sleep over we would take millions upon millions of pictures. Everything we did we had to take a picture of. I don't really know why we did this. Was it because we wanted all the guys on facebook to see our hot chubby faces? Was it because we wanted to show everyone how much fun we had? Who knows. All i know is that I have over 50 pictures of Jamison and I eating Mexican food at our favorite Mexican restaurant. Yes, Mexicans included in the pictures.

 Then one night my poor first camera died on the black top. It's pink outsides splattered on the pavement and it's little instruments came bouncing out.

 I blame Jamison for that incident that stopped our selfie crazed sleep overs. Now our selfies are about one - five pictures instead of hundreds. We post these on Instagram instead of Facebook. Oh, how times change.

 Then, one Christmas, My parents gave me a bright red camera. This one was wayyy better than my little pink one. Plus, it took better pictures. After that started the "Photo shoots." My first ones where beyond horrible with absolutely obviously bad editing.

 I didn't stop though. I continued take photos. Getting likes on facebook was my push, however small the number those likes were. I continued doing photoshoots, getting more professional in the way i go about doing them, getting new and creative ideas, playing with the lighting, and getting props. I'd post my pictures online tagging my friends i took pictures of. Soon they were telling me how people came up to them saying, "So you got your pictures professionally done?" People were asking them for my number so that i could take pictures of them also. All of it makes me feel so accomplished. It makes me feel like I'm good at what i love.

I know I'm not the best photographer. I know i still have many things to learn. I will continue to take pictures of people and continue to get better. I will continue doing what i love:)

dreams feel like reality explanation

Okay, so I'm the type of person that dreams a lot at night. It seems like every night i have a dream. The funny thing is all my dreams feel real to the point that when i wake up I'm confused whether it really happened or not. Usually if i can remember my dream I'll write it down. I enjoy going back and rereading it later.
Some of my dreams scare me though. I actually feel things. It's like it's actually happening to me. Once i had a dream someone grabbed my hand and i felt feelings I've never felt in real life. I felt my heart dropping, my breath accelerating, butterflies swarming around, the warmth of his hand, the comfort i got from it, and the love. Now, I've never been in love before, but I'm pretty sure i felt love in my dreams towards a guy that's alive somewhere in the back of my brain.
Nightmares are even worse. A couple nights ago i had taken melatonin because I've been having problems sleeping at night. It worked. I didn't wake up once during the night, but it had a weird side effect. It gave me back to back nightmares.
First was i was in a pool. It was a normal pool. There was bright lights, people all around, smiles and laughter. The only problem was there was only three people in the pool, including me, and i was in a simulator. This simulator turned this one boy into a shark over and over again. This shark continuously chased us around the pool, biting us. We would feel the pain and then the wounds would heal. This would happen over and over again.
It happened until i was no longer in a pool. I was in the ocean. The murky waters formed large waves that hit me against a rock wall for what seemed like forever. I fought, trying to swim away from the wall. I fought long and hard, but i began to lose energy. I couldn't fight any longer. I went under the water. I was dying.
Then it got weird. A monster truck saved me, but then he killed all of humanity before my very eyes. I was the only human left. Then like the traitor that i am, i fell in love with the humanity killing monster truck who now turned into a form of a very attractive man.
Yeah. I have weird dreams. Any who. Most of my stories that are on here are probably from dreams that i had. That's why most of them are twisted. I remember last night i was running from a murder through some sort of shopping mall maze. Or was it murders? A team of murders? I just vividly remember becoming one of five girls on a guys football team and then running from killers in the mall across the street. Plus it was  dark and dreary outside. Maybe I should make that into a story? Nah. Too much testosterone.
Yeah i woke up this morning having a panic attack which isn't too much fun. I think my first thought was, "I need to get to practice, but i have to do homework first." So, no lie, I tiptoed from my bed, got my book bag, went to another room(my friend slept over last night so i didn't want to wake her), and started on my homework.
It was 4 am. Today is Sunday.
I have a lot of problems with sleeping now. I toss and turn all night. When i do sleep I have vivid dreams slam packed with real emotions and feelings. Sometimes i feel like my bed is shaking which creeps me out to the maximum level. When i finally fall asleep at like 4 i sleep though all alarms. Maybe i should just pull a Tony Stark in iron man 3 and just not sleep for 70 something hours.

dreams feel like reality part two

For the next six days, I ignored his calls. And then, when he showed up at my house, I pretended I wasn’t home.

Why was I doing this? Was it because my pride was wounded? Was it because I was afraid of what would happen? Was I afraid of what he could make me feel?

That seventh day I took a walk, to clear my mind, to get away, I’m still not sure. I just know that for some reason, I felt the need to leave that giant house and walk down that long driveway – to that small secret opening in the bushes. I walked to the one place I could find comfort, our place.

I went to our place.

He was waiting for me there.

He was standing right in that spot where the clovers grew.

Right in that spot where the sun broke through the trees and reached the ground, that’s where he was.

His large hands, which looked as though they could crush something so easily, searched gently through the small green clovers. My mind flashed back to when we were younger, searching in this same spot for a four leaf clover. I close my eyes and remember our excitement when we found, not a four leaf clover, but a six leaf clover.

“That’s extra luck!” I said, staring down at it in his hands. “I can’t believe you found that!”

He looked up at me through his long, dark eyelashes and then placed it in my hand. “I want you to keep it.”

“What? No, you found it. It’s yours.”

“Yes, but now I’m giving it to you, Clementine.”

I searched his eyes and as he smiled at me, his lips moved. His voice formed one single word – my name.

“Clementine.”

I broke away from the memory and stared at that same boy. He’s grown taller since then, his black hair has grown thicker and longer, but he is still the same as he’s always been.

“Clementine.”

Just by his calling my name, the tears began to threaten to run down my cheeks again. My bottom lip began to move again and that heat rose in my body. Then, I was in his arms and he was in mine. And my tears were released and as were his. The rain began then. How cliché is that? The rain fell through the open spots in the trees, sliding off of the leaves high above. Those rain drops mixed in with our tears. As I look back at that moment, I realized that his tears that day were for me, for the pain that I felt.

Tim Daren.

That was the first time that I realized how much I truly felt for him.

That moment, it just felt, so real.

how can a dream feel like reality ?

It just felt… so real. His arms wrapped tightly around my tiny waist… with me standing on my tippy toes, stretching to wrap my arms around his neck. My face pressed into his chest and his face pressed into my hair. We just stood there with the rain coming down around us. Our tears, which we both have kept locked away for so long, mixing in with it. Our sobs sang along with the thunder as it cracked through the air.

We just stood there, sharing this, this heart wrenching moment with each other – a moment I would only want to spend with him.

He found out about her a week before, on that wretched night. This night was like so many others – the others as those were before them. These nights so wretched and despairing, nothing seemed right anymore at night – especially that night. She was at one of the parties that she thought everyone wanted her to attend, but she was wrong. No one wanted to tell her different than what she thought, though. Cocktail dresses and fancy shoes and hair, black ties and all – those were the parties, the parties that were meant to be grand. Those stupid, horrendous parties – that’s what they were to me.

The subject of everyone’s snide comments and private jokes, created her usual scene – champagne glasses, one after another, until she can only stumble across the floor, dropping her drink and ruining one more thousand dollar dress.

Everyone laughed, giving her fake smiles of encouragement. She was the night’s entertainment.

She was and is my mother.

Do you know how it feels to have to endure such madness, to endure the cruelty of other people? Do you truly know how it feels to have to clean your own mother’s vomit off the floor every single weekend? Do you know how it feels to have to act like a mother to your own mother? Do you know how the pain and all of the embarrassment, remorse, and regret of having a parent like that feels? And then you wish you never felt that way, wishing you were stronger than everyone else’s words.

That week before – on that night – I watched her stumble around, and I finally realized that I couldn’t take it any longer. I really couldn’t do it. I don’t know why I did it, or how it happened so fast. I just know that my phone was in my hands in seconds. I just know that I sent him one message and minutes later he was there. He was right before me.

He didn’t laugh.

He didn’t judge.

He helped.

He understood.

As I stood there, my face red from the embarrassment, he helped get my mother into his car and drove us home. He didn’t mind going into a rich people’s party – nor did he mind having to leave what he was doing.

“Thank you,” I said after I closed the door to her bedroom. “I’m really sorry I put you through this trouble.”

I couldn’t look him in the eye. All I could do was look down at my feet. All I could do was feel the shame creep into my cheeks.

After a long moment, he whispered, “How long has this been going on?”

I couldn’t say anything, but I could feel my bottom lip as it began to tremble.

“How long, Clementine,” he asked me. His voice softly made its way to my ears, “Has this been going on all this time?”

I nodded my head.

Then I felt them. For the first time in years, the threat of tears stung my eyes, something only he could make me feel.

Why was that? Why was it that only when he was around, that I could feel the need to cry, to release my feelings completely?

“It-it’s late,” I said, turning my back to him. “Thanks for coming.”

And then I walked into my room swiftly, wanting to get away from his gentle blue eyes – those eyes that could be so soft, but at the same time so piercing.

Tim Daren has been around since I was a baby. We’ve gone to the same school, but lived worlds apart. I was the rich girl and he was the farmer’s son, but somehow, some way, we became best friends over the years. He was always there for me, whenever I needed him. 

But I didn’t want to have to need him, though I knew I did.

Five Years Lost

Beep. Beep. Beep.

That simple noise fills my ears, the same exact noise. Over and over again, its annoying consistent beeping. 

“Five more minutes…” I mumble, trying to turn over, but with a shock I realize I can’t. Pain shoots through my arm as I do so. I open my eyes and look down at my now bleeding hand.

What on earth?

And then I realize this isn’t my room at all. This is a hospital. It’s a white room with an open window. The wind blows the curtains inside, towards me.  I look around at all the machines and begin to panic. I try to rip the cords from my arms and the oxygen mask from my face.

Why am I here! What’s going on!?

While I do this the beeping goes erratic, hysterical. Suddenly nurses burst through the door and they stop and stare at me, and I at them. Their eyes are wide and one puts her hand to her mouth and whispers, “It’s a miracle...”

While the other finally jumps into action and stops my crazed hands.

“Let go of me!” I scream at her, “Why am I here!?”

She pins my hands down and looks sadly into my eyes, “You’ve been in a coma, sweetie. You’ve been in a coma for five years, three months, and nine days to be exact.”

TCHIAI Final

I wonder about my mental health by now. I don't know how long I’ve been in this dark room, but it feels like weeks and months. I dream of escape, but not of my past. I can't even remember my past. Who was I before all of this? Who were my friends? What did I do? I can't even remember my mother's smiling face or my dad's goofy personality. It’s all been taken from me, replaced with monsters and nightmares that I will never become used to. I'm always afraid. I'm always scared. I never feel anything different.

Then, I dream of escape. Sweet, sweet escape. I picture it in my mind, running barefoot through green grass in the mountains on a beautiful summer’s day.

The funny thing is, it happens. I'm running. I’m running far away – away from all the madness and the horrors. A smile comes to my face and I feel… I feel free. They said they would set me free, right? When it was all over. So, maybe they did. Maybe I’m actually, truly free.

I laugh and run faster, and then I hear thunder. I don't care, though. I truly don't care. The sky darkens and rain begins to descend upon me, washing me clean from all the past nightmares. I spin in my yellow dress and watch the rain clean the dirt from my skin.

"It isn't real," he says.

I turn around, the happiness inside me leaving in an instant. There he is – the guy that I thought was so hot long, long ago. The guy who tormented me and fed me more nightmares in the middle of the night is standing right in front of me.

I run.

I run from him, into the trees. All I can do is run through the thick woods. Pine tree limbs slap me and scratch me. Thorns and leaves stick to my clothes. Blood trickles down from where the thorns rip into my feet, legs, and arms. The sky above me is dark and rain falls down heavily.

I'm used to the darkness, though. I'm used to the scared feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"There's no reason to run," his deep rough voice says, far far behind me. "It will start all over again soon enough!"

I can barely hear his words over the sound of the rain. I hear my breath and I hear the frantic beat of my heart, along with the sound of my rushed steps as I head deep into the mountains.

How do I have the strength to run?

How do I not feel the wounds that are being inflicted on my body as I push ever further?

Adrenaline, maybe?

Maybe I’m already too numb from the sudden cold?

Maybe I’m not truly alive, but I’m still haunted after death?

How did I even escape that dark room so easily?

Or did I not really escape? Am I still in those dreams?

The voice catches up to me.

The rain moves around his words, carrying them away. But they soon reach me, saying, "You aren't real." I stop in my tracks. The rain, the sound of my breathing, the sound of my thumping heart, it all begins to slow. I squeeze my eyes shut and hold my head together as the migraine begins to take over. "Shut. Up," I order weakly through gritted teeth.

"All of us – we aren't real."

"Please, stop."

"We are all just characters in a short story."

And then, my world is black again as I am running through the trees, another pair of eyes reading the story where I am the main character who is forever running. The same story plays over and over, looping forever in eternity, never destined to really have an end.

I'm at the beach house, ignoring the tug inside me as I walk out onto the porch and down the steps toward the dark beach.

Black in the night.

We can see darkness, but we cannot see what lies within it.

We only see what we imagine.

TCHIAI part 9

Now I fully know what horrible things I am going to face in this room.

They make me imagine terrible creatures of all different kinds and the terrible things they would do.

But that's just my imagination, right?

Wrong.

My imagination – it becomes reality.                                                                                                                                      

Those monsters that inhabited my brain come forward in the darkness and torment me. Over and over again, I feel like it'll never stop. Oh, God, when will it all stop?

When my imagination runs low, they give me all sorts of ideas.

They make me watch movies. They read stories to me of absolutely horrible things. They show pictures to me, in my brain (probably with the thing they put in my head) of creatures God threw into hell.

When they put those things into my head, I try my hardest not to think about them – those bad things.

Sometimes, when you try your hardest not to do something, that's when it's the easiest to do.

I close my eyes in the darkness, pressing myself into the corner, covering my eyes.

Puppies, think of puppies. Rainbows and puppies. Butterflies...

"It won’t save you," a voice slithers in my ear.

I open my eyes to see the creature before me, and it’s something that I can't even begin to describe.

My screams, like the others before and after, are only heard by me.

Sound proof walls are a wonder.

TCHIAI part 8

Now, it was either from his long nasty speech or from the meds they most likely gave me, but I was feeling pretty beat. With my vision blurring from the scared tears that are betraying me and the overcoming exhaustion weighing down on me, I slump backwards onto the gurney. As I do, I realize that I’m not really sure what to think, or how to really think anymore.

Above me, the doctor comes into my vision and says, "Don't be scared, sweetie, it will only last for a little while, not for too long."

"Then, I can go home?" My words slur together.

"Then, we will set you free. When you awake, you will be in your room and the tests will begin. Good luck."

Right after his words end, everything turns black again, but it stays that way, for a long, long time.

Blackness. The dark. One can see the darkness, but cannot see what lies within it.

I wake up to blackness – well, I think I am awake. I blink and try to move, but I realize that my arms and legs are tied down. A voice crackles through the air, as if it’s coming from a speaker. It says, "This room will show you your dreams and make them come true. Just remember that nightmares are dreams too. So it will mostly be bad things that you see. Sorry about that – well, not really. Don't try to change the dream because frankly, that won’t work. Now think your darkest thoughts and dreams and we will, to no charge at all, give them to you."My eyes widen in the darkness. What kind of crazy place is this? I decide to try it by testing it out.

I think of unicorns. Nothing.

I think of puppies. Nothing.

I thought they said they’d give me my dreams? Or they said nightmares, right? Maybe if I think something bad, then that will show up.

So I think back to a nasty movie that I saw called the “Human Centipede.” That was the grossest movie I’ve ever seen in, like, ever. Some crazy guy put three pe… You know what, I don't even want to explain it because I might actually throw up doing so.

"I'm going to make you into an experiment," someone says into my ear, his breath going over the side of my face and to my noise. It fills the air with a horrible stench.

I try to scream and to get away, but then I’m lying on a gurney as I am looking at a diagram of what is to become of me. Fear and panic squeeze my heart and I look over at the two people beside me – they are going to become a part of me soon. We're all gagged and attached to gurneys. The creepy man before tells me that I will be the middle piece, a special piece.

I go through the torture. I feel all of the pain. I feel all of the torment.

I.

Feel.

Everything.

Then, everything becomes black again and I’m back in the dark room. I throw up, multiple times, as a matter of fact. It was like I was in that movie, like I was one of the girls. I didn't even remember the dark room while I was there. I just felt the pain and the terror of what was to come. I just felt the need to escape.

Forever Looking for Her Bright Smile

Forever Looking for Her Bright Smile

I still remember that day as vividly as if it were just yesterday, that horrid day I was bereft of my best friend. Unusually, as if in mourning, August twenty-fifth was a frigid day. It felt as if autumn immediately wanted to come out and make an early appearance.

         “Can you believe it? Tomorrow we’ll be seniors,” Laurie said, stepping out of her Volkswagen bug.

“Time sure did fly by,” I replied as we began walking towards the outside shopping center, “Can you believe it’s been nine years since we met?”

 “Oh, gosh, no. It’s been that long?”

                I nodded. “It sure has.”

  We shopped and tried on multiple outfits for the upcoming school year.  We worked all summer, saving money just for today. We already knew what we wanted. We looked in multiple issues of Seventeen Magazine for outfit ideas.

   The dark clouds covered the sun, blocking the sunny rays from coming down and warming our skin. The cold wind blew against our bare legs, making goosebumps cover our bodies. We wore different flower print summer dresses matched with sweaters for fighting off the breeze. My outfit was matched with cowgirl boots and chunky bangles. Laurie styled brown wedges and large earrings.

   If you looked at us together you could see that we were like exact opposites.  Laurie’s dark brown hair with big curls flowed gracefully down her back. Her kind chocolate brown iris’s could make for the best puppy dog eyes. Her short stature and skinny frame made her seem innocent and defenseless. Her white, perfect smile resembled that of a movie star's.

I, on the other hand, had always sported my straight blond hair in a high ponytail. My ice-blue gaze, mistaken for a glare, wouldn’t seem kind at all. Plus, being taller than most and having more meat on my bones made people intimidated by me.

People walked by us, giving Laurie affectionate smiles and gaping at her beauty, but giving me only hesitant stares. We were a queer friendship, indeed, from an outside view. Both of us looked as though we were from separate worlds. No one understood why we were such close friends. Sometimes even we couldn’t believe it, she the popularity queen and I the geek?

We shopped for hours, finding the cutest clothes and accessories. While we shopped, we talked of latest summer relationships and the Pretty Little Liars episode that had aired the night before. Hours passed in what seemed like only minutes.  The air became colder as the sun began to descend, leaving the cloudy sky in an array of gold and orange. Our stomachs began to growl loudly.  With our arms full of bags, we began to walk towards our favorite restaurant.

Zoey’s Kitchen was the perfect college girl restaurant. The menu was full of only healthy salads and foods. It was cute and comfortable inside. As always, we ordered the Greek salad and tomato bisque. We paid and sat down in the small booth by the window. It was our favorite seat where you could look down at the city, Downtown’s beautiful lights reflecting against the clouds.

As we ate, we talked about our spoils and what outfit would look good with our accessories.  After a long talk about colleges and which ones we were going to apply to, we stood to leave. Once out the door, we quickly realized that it was later than we’d expected. All the cars in the mall parking lot had disappeared. There wasn’t a single person or car in sight.

A chill went down my spine, and it wasn’t because of the cold. I felt as though we were being watched. I felt as if we were in jeopardy. My frightened eyes met Laurie’s and I noticed that her’s mirrored mine. Without a word we began to quickly walk down the dark sidewalk. It was about a ten minute walk to Laurie’s car.

The wind began to pick up and rain started to sprinkle down on us. Our pace quickened. With my heart pounding fast, something felt terribly off. Looking for any signs of danger, I scrutinized the area around us. The only sounds were the click of our shoes against the sidewalk and the wind blowing the leaves on the trees.

Then we heard the rev of an engine behind us. We stopped dead in our tracks and turned slowly around. My heart began beating furiously fast. There, in the middle of the road, was a white van, its headlights blinding us. The van began to rev up again, making us stumble backwards, dropping our bags.

Then it took off high speed towards us, swerving over onto the sidewalk.  For a second I knew what I felt like to be an animal caught staring into the bright headlights, unable to move. Laurie screamed and grabbed my hand, pulling me out of the way. Panic surrounded me. My brain wasn’t working. Run, was all I thought.

 With buildings on either side of us, we began to race down the slippery, uneven cobblestone street.  There wasn’t anywhere to go, but straight. There weren’t any alleyways or unlocked doors. There wasn’t anywhere to hide from out pursuer. I, being on the track team, was obviously faster than Laurie. I hadn’t realized that a distance had begun stretching between the two of us.

Lightning struck down in the distance lighting up the sky. Loud, shaking thunder followed immediately after. The rain began to pound down on us, even harder now, almost as if the sky was crying. The buckets of rain forced my clothes to cling to my body. Blisters formed and scrubbed painfully against the heel of my soaked boots.

 Suddenly Laurie slipped on the street, and with a loud gasp, fell to the ground. I stumbled to a stop. Turning around to help her, I saw the van roll slowly beside her.  The side door slid open and a large man with a mask reached out. Gasping she tried desperately crawling away on her hands and knees, her leg was obviously injured. He roughly grabbed Laurie by her hair, easily pulling her into the van. Screams, both hers and mine, pierced the ice cold air. I raced towards them, but I was too late.

She and the van were gone, almost like they were never there to begin with. 

The image of her scared, wide eyes and her mouth open in a terrified scream is stuck in my mind even today. Thirty-five years later, and still, my best friend hasn't been found. The police gave up the case three years after the kidnapping, but I never gave up looking. I never give up looking for her bright, unmistakable smile.

Ashes Are My Snow and Regret ~ two short stories

Ashes Are My Snow

The fire rises, kept alive by bodies. It grows high towards the sky.

Ashes and ashes cover the earth as it falls to the ground like snow.

Dark clouds fill the usual bright blue skies.

Men, children, and women go into the fire, but only ashes come out.

The horrible stench pollutes the air, but only evil is left smell their nasty deeds.

They trample the ash, looking for me, leaving footprints in the gray.

I watch as the fire dims - the ashes stop - the good is becoming none.

Evil looks as if they won, but regret sneaks up. The evil's eyes clear to see the truth.

Riots began - the fire then burns - ashes fall again.

The evil is becoming none.

Ashes and ashes - Cloudy skies - Ashes is my snow.

There is no more evil or good.

I am left alone.

Regret:

I walk a long path full of suffering.

A dark path with many holes, many roots rising from the surface of the rotting leaves, many sharp deadly rocks hidden from view….

A narrow path with many twists and turns.

Tree limbs reach over like broken arms – their leaves forever lost – never to return again.

Eerie fog creeps through the barren trees.

Wind flows powerfully around the forest – making sounds worthy of scaring the most fierce.

Darkness strives here, light never dare shows its face.

 The path never ends. It never will.

There isn’t a person, demon, or creature...

There will only be me- constantly walking this long path.

I chose this.

My soul sold to the dark shadows.

 Sins forever visible – like blood stained hands.

Loneliness - Pain… but never Regret. 

The Girl Without A Name

The Girl without a Name

There, in a small town, sits an abandoned hospital. The windows are boarded – the halls covered in strewn patient files and puddles of water leak in from the most recent thunderstorm. The paint on the walls is chipping and the small pieces float to the dirt-covered floor. It seems to be empty, this sad dark place, but life after death dwells within these halls. A gurney sits in the middle of the hallway. It is old and dirty, the wheels and bars have rusted over time. If one looks closely at the gurney, they can sometimes see a girl. With her knees to her chest, she looks at the light that streams in through the cracks of the boarded windows. One may even see the light caressing her body, making a halo in her dirty-blonde hair. If they get close enough one may also see the girl's beautiful, bright, blue eyes, but notice that her face is streaked with tears. Her mouth forms the words, "I'm sorry," over and over again as fresh tears pool constantly in her eyes. These hot tears, just as waterfalls would, flow down her face. This girl has lips that have been untouched and a heart that is pure but broken. Though this girl can never leave, she can roam the lonely hospital, chasing little glimpses of light. One may see her dancing through the halls, her white dress skimming across the dirty floor. As she spins around in a pool of light that emanates from a hole in the ceiling, her wavy hair bounces and sways behind her. The light reflecting off of her is bright. It’s so bright, one must close their eyes – and after that brief moment, when their eyes are opened again, the girl is nowhere in sight. This girl has never felt love before, she has never felt the warmth of someone’s embrace. She has never felt wanted. She is innocent, beautiful – innocently beautiful. She is dead. Many wonder why this girl is stuck in this hospital – thinking about why such a girl is dead. This girl was unwanted by her mother of sixteen. The girl was aborted and forgotten. Even though people said she was just flesh, she had a face, hands, a heart and soul. She is now seen as what she would have been if she had grown – beautiful, smart and bright, and so, so alive. But all these things aren't real. She never got the chance to grow and live a life. She was robbed of that chance, she was murdered. She walks around this hospital, wondering why she doesn't have a name. She wonders why her mother hated her so. She wonders what it would have been like to grow up and live the life she was meant to live. Most of all, this little girl wonders why she was so unwanted that her own mother would pay to have her killed before she even got to see light.

I Feel.

Hesitantly, I reach out towards him. I draw my hand back an inch before bringing it forward again. I watch as his body begins to fall from its usual strong stature to something vulnerable and weak. My hand touches his arm. The small touch is charged like lightening in a dark storm. I half expected him to jerk away again. I, myself, even wanted to move away from the weird sensation. But he seems too tired to do so and I've never had the chance to touch him for so long. Nobody has.
He's like a stray dog on the street. You have to be careful for it may strike out at you and take your hand off in a second. No one wants to risk it.
 My heart rests a bit, flying with the thrill of him allowing me to touch him and comfort him, but at the same time my heart is full of pain of seeing him in this way. It's a strange and rare sight to see a Thorean with these expressions flickering across their strong, tough looking features.
After a few seconds he backs away, falling into a chair. He rests his elbows on his knees while bringing his hands to his eyes. After a long moment he whispers with a strained and ungaurded voice, "Alora, why is it you?"
I'm quite for a bit, thinking he'll continue. After long moments of silence i take a step forward and open my mouth. He cuts off my words.
"No, do not come closer. Please, please stay there. Let me say these things before you speak." he takes a few uneven breaths, as if he is trying to prepare himself for what is to come, "Whenever you are around unwanted things awake inside of me, things that shouldn't be awoken inside a Thorean."
He looks at me through his hands, his eyes full of confusion. His brows knit together, "I feel around you... You make me feel things, thing a Thorean were not created to feel."
I take a deep breath. The air feels heavier and heavier as each slow second goes by, "What do you mean feel things? Doesn't everyone feel things?"
He sighs and begins to open his mouth to answer my question.
"His kind doesn't feel anything besides the need to get the job done." a voice from the doorway states, "Or they aren't supposed to."
Conway stiffens in his chair and his eyes fill with horror.
Verdad leans against the door frame, her four arms crossed across her chest, "So, you are the son of Jasmine. Are you not supposed to be dead along with the rest of your tainted family?"
In seconds Conway's wall is back up and he is before Verdad.
"You will tell no one of this or I will end your life by my very hands with no hesitation, friends or not."
Verdad laugh echoes through the tunnels of her home.
"I accept you into my home and hide you from the Thrones. I give you advice for many years and have befriended you. I do so many things for you and you threaten my life so easily? Now, who should really be cross?"
Conway doesn't back away.
After a few long moments Verdad rolls her eyes, "I give you my word."
Conway steps away and without a glance backwards he leaves. Making the room a bit darker than it was before.
"He will be found out, Alora," Verdad says to be once Conway's footsteps can no longer be heard echoing through the cave walls, "Even I cannot stop that from happening. w\When he is found out they will hunt him down and they will kill him."

BLOOOGGGG LIFFEEE

SO, HI.
It's 12:03 A.M and here I am, at the dining room table, doing homework.
Everyone in the house is asleep, except me. Heckers, even my cat is sprawled out on the table beside my laptop, teasing me with her little paws moving as she chases a mouse in her dream. Now, I know that you know how i got here. I am a procrastinator at heart and have been since the beginning times of homework for me.
See what's funny is that at the start of the year i promised myself that this kind of thing wouldn't happen, but here i am. Now, what happened to that promise i made to myself? It went right down the drain with my dignity, sleep, and phone battery the second week of school.
What happened the second week of school? I had to miss most of the week to go down to Texas. Make up work is not my forte. It is majorly difficult for me to get done make up work along with the nights homework. So, it's safe to say that work really didn't get done. Then i started not to really care anymore. The spell of the honor child was broken in just a couple of days.
Now it's the end of the first quarter, i have missing grades, and i'm sitting here with my head in my hands wondering why i'm such a stupid idiot and listening to Celine Dion's My Heart Will Go On. Even though i feel like Jack falling down to the cold dark abyss of the Atlantic Ocean instead of Rose who took up the whole door and didn't feel nice enough to even give Jack her life jacket.
I'm getting off subject. Thanks a lot Celine. The time where i get straight A's - Near, far, where ever you are - will be the time my cat decides to get off her lazy butt and catch a real mouse instead of dreaming about it. All i've really done since I've sat down at this table at 5pm is have a text war and write two journal blogs...
I did get up at one point and watch two episodes of The Walking dead. Which, by the way, was AMAZING.
At 11:30 my mom headed to her room for the night and asked me when i was going to bed. I looked up at her with these half dead eyes of mine and just whispered, "Never."
Yeah, she didn't take it well. I got yelled at for a bit before i just said I'll go to bed soon. The small lie was enough to get her to leave me alone and to make her go to her giant king sized bed. Have i ever told you sleep is my favorite thing? I think that's another sign that I'm lazy.
Yeah, i have a giant pile of make up work to do. I don't even know if the teachers will even accept half of it because it's so late. I doubt you've read this far. It isn't a very interesting journal blog.
OH MY GRAVY i just scared the mess out of myself because i thought i saw something out of the corner of my eye and then i looked over and NOTHING was there. OHHH no. OHHNONONO. I'm going to pee my pants. I'm not good with scary things. SNUGOMS WAKE UP. PROTECT ME WITH YOUR DECLAWED PAWS. MS. Weekman if i die tell them it was a ghost. A ghost is after me. Tell my family i love them!!! TELL THEM NOT TO SAY ANYTHING BAD ABOUT ME AT MY FUNERAL and that i want free pizza for everyone and no one is allowed to wear black. Only rainbow colors. Also i want Liza and Bailey to throw themselves over my casket. I want Julia to stand at the front with a grim reaper costume on. I want - OHNO. THEY'RE HERE. igrepwgvunactimqrhrsij;o/dfvgjbhkntbuevrytwarECRETvyhubeijnom 786rytesvtyubtirnyudumitn7d6r5r6zdtyj ydtdyfgcyjhgmhfuknyutyikliutyutbdyvryvuruihj,pgcifu.
-BLOG DELETED-

When I Saw the Fog Dance: Part 2

I don't really mind getting up at five a.m every morning. If it's for soccer I'll do really anything. It's this thick fog that bothers me. It rests on the road before me, not allowing me to see anything far ahead. All I see is it swirling around in my headlights, making shapes in the air and the slight outline of the back road I'm driving on. 

It's still dark outside. The sun doesn't rise for a couple more hours. Still, if i get a good practice in before school I'll be ready for tryouts. Even though I'm sure to get a spot on the team. I am the best soccer play in the whole school after all. 

A yawn escapes my lips making my eyes water a bit. I take a swig of my protein shake when a flash of an incoming message makes  me glance down. I pick up my phone and see it's Samantha, the hottest girl of the class of 2014. We started dating a couple months ago after she broke up with the star football player for me. Soccer is defiantly better than football any day.

Everyone always tells you not to take your eyes off the road, but everyone still does it. I didn't really think about the consequences before i picked up that darned phone.

The fog is disrupted form its sleeping state as two cars spin and crash together in the darkness of the morning hours. I can't see anything except the thick ghostly fog illuminated by the headlights of the other person's car and my own as our cars spin in what seems like a never ending spiral of pure terror. My not so manly scream plays in the air along with the screeching of tired and the earsplitting crashing of metal with metal. 

Our cars come to a jerky stop facing one another, taking up the whole road. Our headlights beam into each others windshields. It's a girl, a young looking girl. She squints her eyes and covers them with her shaking hand. Her gaping mouth gasps for air as if she is trying to calm herself down. Her other hand pats herself down looking for any injury. 

I do a little laugh as i reach up and turn my brights off. When i do so, i notice my own hand shaking uncontrolablly. I look down at myself. I'm unharmed. I'm fine. My car isn't though. My whole front left is crushed. I can't believe I'm okay after that. Maybe it's because i was going so slow because of the fog. 

I look back at the girl and mouth, "You okay?"

Her wide, shocked eyes stare at me as she nods. I pull out my phone and dial 911. 

"911 what's your emergency?"

"HI, uh, I've been in a-"

That's when i see a third pair of headlights come into play. 

When I Saw the Fog Dance.

I stare at the empty pill bottle before me. I flip the orange release in my hands, unscrewing and screwing the cap on and off again. I refilled it early this morning when the fog still rested on the road. All those tiny white pills slipped down my throat and now rests in my stomach, i think. I don't remember much about anatomy. So who knows when those deadly pills will get there.
Truthfully, I didn't think I could get this low, sitting in my filthy trash filled room with only the light streaming in from the crack underneath the door. I used to play soccer everyday of my life, practicing when out of season and winning games when in season. I had a full ride in college until IT happened.
My dad stumbles in the living room, causing something to break with a loud crash, most likely mom's favorite vase that sits on the table. Well, sat on the table. Profanity tries to leave his mouth in angry shouts, but really all I hear is jumbled words. I smile at the fact that after a couple of hours i wont have to deal with sleepless nights anymore caused by his noises and the nightmares. Soon, all i'll be getting is sleep, which ironically, hasn't been my favorite thing lately.
Everything went downhill pretty drastically around here after it happened. We were all pretty messed up. I lost my soccer scholarship obviously. Mom couldn't handle it anymore and just left in the middle of the night with just a note that said sorry. Some mother she is, but i can't really hold it against her. After reading the note, dad went on a drinking rampage.
I close my eyes and lean back on the pillows on my twin sized bed. Automatically, like every time i close these eyes her face appears before me. It was a normal morning, two months ago, a foggy morning when i saw the fog dance....

The Thirteen Thrones of Salandria Prologue

We all stare in horror as the third sun begins to fall from our colorful sky. All of Salandria stops in utter silence until it disappears completely from our sights. Our suns never rest like some other world's suns in the universe. We have always only seen light on Salandria. We have never seen darkness, not since the first great war many hundreds of generations ago. Chaos breaks lose. Shadows are suddenly allowed into our world to creep upon us. For the daughter sun, along with our other two suns, had protected us from them since the beginning of time, but now she has abandoned us. Light crashes with the dark as the Kendrion begin to climb from the dark pit. The second great war of Salandria has now begun.
I change into the form of the moonwalker, a mix similar to a wolf of Earth and a dragon creature of a world named Tiwashion, and fight with all of my might. It is not enough though, for all our fears of every pure creature that resides in Salandria become reality as the first Kendrion reaches the pool of mirrors. 
The pool of mirrors is similar to a teleportation device. It is a large lake of Killiom, a substance that will allow you to see anything, anywhere, at this current time in the universe and take you to that place. If the Kendrion manage to go into the pool, they will be able to disappear anywhere that they wish and corrupt all that they touch.  

The three great temples that reach high into the sky like mountains and surround the pool of mirrors begin to come alive. Each temple holds a sphere at its point. Each sphere contains the harvested energy of trillions of stars and when one wishes to go into the lake of mirrors it must ask permission from the stars itself. 
No of us expects a Kendrion, one who is filled with only evil and darkness, can ever make it through the pool of mirrors. The suns that protect us from the darkness will never allow such a thing. Our suns, who we worship and serve, who only bring us light, will never allow darkness to creep into other worlds, cursing them forever. 
But our daughter sun has abandoned us, allowing for the Kendrion to taint our world with that darkness. 
As the temples come to life, we fully and completely believe in our two remaining Suns to keep them from entering the pool or mirrors. 
We were wrong to believe. The spheres come to life and a bright light illuminates off each one of them, making a beam come down on the lake of mirrors, blinding all that is around. One by one the Kendrion are surrounded by the silver sticky liquid and taken under, to the other worlds that each wishes to go to. 
Our suns have failed us.
Days after the defeat, we all are still in shock. The same question swarms our minds.
What have we done to make them punish us so? 
The thrones are cut off from any connection with the Suns. Our thrones, the ones who guide us and rule over us, are just as confused and scared as anyone else. Only a few Kendrion, who didn't go through the pool of mirrors, are still left on the surface of Salandria. Finally, our thrones swallow their fear and command us to kill every single one left on our land. They command us not to stop until every shadow is abolished. 
We all know that this can not be done, not without the daughter sun to stop the everlasting flow of Kendrion climbing up the edge of Salandria from their pit.  
 We begin to lose more and more of our pure creatures to the dark. 
After many weeks of death, we get the first word from our suns. My race, the Thoreans, are picked specifically to enter the pool of mirrors, to hunt across the universe. We are told to spread out and look for one called Sherean, the one who seeks to put out the light forever. 
I am one of the first to head out for the hunt, along with a group of six. To my ultimate surprise the Father Sun picks me by name to lead the hunt. 
After gathering supplies, my group heads to earth.

Just a Dare. A chapter from The Thirteen Thrones of Salandria

Whistling awakens me. I open my eyes and sit up from the cold stone floor. It’s dark with only little light emerging from the small barred window far above my head.

“Where am I?” I ask the whistler, whose silhouette sits in the far corner outside my cell. The large figure stands and says, “You’re at the thrones of the thirteen.” He walks forward and steps inside my cell.

“Thrones of the-?”

“Don’t speak their name!” he yells spitting, “Their name shouldn’t be spoken and tainted by a human’s tongue.”
His glowing eyes give me a look of disgust.

Human? What the…

The man jerks me roughly to my feet, and I stumble a bit, my legs not really working. How am I here? Where was I? Why does my ankle and head hurt so much? The large man puts heavy chains on my hands and pushes me forward.

“You are going before the thirteen to plead your case. Do not speak directly to them. Do not look anyone in the eye. Keep your eyes on the ground. No speaking unless asked a question and do not question.” He pushes me through the dark hallways and until I see a bright light up ahead, “If you break any of those rules…”

He brings me into the light. Noise breaks out all around me and the light stings my eyes for only a moment. I look around and it’s a great beautiful room, crowds and crowds of people are around, sitting in the sides. They scream and yell as I appear and in the middle of it all sits thirteen high thrones.

“…you die.” He whispers in my ear with a laugh.

I’m thrown onto the ground; I try to stand, but a hard hand is on my shoulder keeping me kneeling. My eyes are on the polished floor.

“Silence!” a voice booms over the noise, making the crowed hush in an instant.

“Alora Calantha, human daughter, is charged with the knowledge of the blessed ones. On the week of the fallen hunts the human addressed one of our own high that sits to the right of the large thrones of the thirteen with the words, ‘I know your secret.’ Human plead your case.”

With a firm hand on my shoulder, I’m only able to look down, “I-It was a-“

“You will speak to them as the most high! You must say ‘With respect holy ones’ before you speak! Did you not tell her one thing, Kai, keeper of the keys?”

“My apologizes, Holy one.” a man above me says.

  “Continue human!” someone orders.

“Wi-with respect ho-holy ones, It was only a dare, a joke. I don’t even know him.” My whole body is shaking with fear. The hair on the back of my neck and my arms stand on end, a cold sweat is forming on my forehead and my voice quivers.

A small mummer goes through the room.

“It may be telling the truth, holy ones. There is no way this simple human girl would know.” A person from behind me states.

I thank that person in my head.

“She was in close contact with one of the fallen ones. He had her in his trance. She witnessed him killing one of his own with his commands. She has seen us, even though she might not know of us. She’s been here; she’s been in our courts. We can’t let her wander free on the earth after that. We take away all potential threats, is this lowly human an exception?”

Whispers go through the crowds, “What do you suggest, Conway, holy hound of the plain?” an angelic voice says from high above, most likely one that sits on a throne, “You were the one that has watched her all these weeks. You’ve observed her the most. What do you believe her fate shall be?”

 “We should kill her, blessed one. She is a threat, Fitzhugh, son of intelligence, has established that. All threats are taken away, are they not?”

My heart sinks, and I start to push to my feet, to run away, but the hand on my shoulder only becomes stronger, pushing me farther onto the ground.

‘Yes, kill her!”

‘Rid us of all threats!’

‘Take her away!’

Cheers go through the room, loud and demanding of my death. Fear, shakes my body. They’re going to kill me. They all want to kill me. I have to get away. I have to run!

“SILENCE!”

The voice gets what it has requested, utter and complete silence. The only noise is my fast beating heart.

“Stand her up, Kai, keeper of the keys.”

The man placing the hand on my shoulder lifts me from the ground and I stumble trying to stand. I don’t look at the thrones before me, as instructed. I look down at myself, why am I so weak? Why am I in so much pain? I look down at my once designer clothes and see them torn and bloody. Cuts line my body.

What? What happened to me?

“Why is it so battered, Conway, holy hound of the plain?” a voice high above asks.

“Holy one, I ran into some…complications fetching her. I had to stop her before she made a scene.”

“How?”

“I ran her," he clears his voice, "I ran her off the side of a mountain.”

Then I remember. He was standing in the middle of the road. He was too close, it was too late. I couldn’t stop. I swerved, when I should have hit the bastard. I went right through the guard rails and with a loud scream went down the large hill, flipping the entire way, hitting my head on the glass windows and finally coming to a stop when I hit a tree. I was dragged from the car and saw its metal frame twisted around the trunk. I remember thinking, ‘how on earth did I survive?’ and I looked up into the eyes of the man, or Conway, before I gave into the black.

 Gasps and laughter go throughout the room, but is silenced once again.

“And she lived? This one must be strong.”

I don’t dare look around; I keep my eyes focused on my cut feet. My bottom lip quivers and tears threaten to spill out my eyes. I can’t die yet. I’m so young! I have dreams, places I want to see, things I want to be! Hell, I’ve never been in love yet! I’m still a virgin for Christ sake! I have my whole life ahead of me! It’s like my life line is a long beautiful silk thread and these people are holding their scissors dangerously close.

I can run, but I don’t know where I am. Hide? They’ll find me. Fight? There is no way I can take down even one of those giants!

“I can taste your fear girl.” A voice says from above, “I can smell your dreams and wants. You want to live even after all this? After what we’ll do to you?”

“I pity the poor child.” Another says, “Let’s just be merciful and go ahead and put it out of its misery? Should we truly make it suffer like the others? I see no fault in this one.”

“But it may be of some use to us, if it makes it through the torture.” One interjects thus resulting in a long drawn out discussion on either I live or die. Every passing comment I grow weaker, more tired. My heart pounds in my chest and my knees wobble as they begin to give way. The only thing keeping me steady is Kai.

“Enough! The thrones will have a vote. The results we be let known to all on the passing day of the rest. We grow tired of this matter.”

And with that I'm dragged from the room. 

TCHIAI part 7

"Where am I?" I ask, placing a hand on my head as if I could steady it and make it stop spinning. I touch something on my forehead and realize there is a bandage there.

Seconds later, a man in a white coat and glasses, the usual doctor look, walks in with, of course, a clipboard and, I’m guessing, interns.

"Ms. Kracktarior," he says addressing me. Yes, I know that's not really a kindergarten friendly last name I’ve got there, so you can imagine my non-existent effort to learn how to spell that. He doesn’t look up at me as he says, "You are in the sixth section, a very special place. A device has been placed inside your brain, please try not to remove it. If you do, you'll kill yourself, but you wouldn't be able to get to it in the first place."

Others laugh around him when he says this. Me, well, I begin panicking at this moment. My breathing begins to accelerate and my heart, which was going crazy a few moments ago over hottie-with-the-body, begins to go to whole new heights with the speeding up stuff. It's like my heart is trying to run a freaking marathon on how fast it can freaking beat.

I, obviously, couldn't much as a single syllable  out of my mouth because i'm over here having a panic attack.

"You will, for now on, be known as the number 6294, the same number as the room you have been assigned. You will go through a series of mental tests. You are a very lucky person to be introduced into this system. Not many people get to do so."

I look wildly around, and finally I find my words. "Did my parents sign me up for this? Do my parents know I'm here?"

"Oh, no, no child," the hottie says. "Your parents don't even know you exist anymore. You actually signed yourself up for this," he pauses as he searches for a word, "event.  We made sure that your parents will never think of you again for all of their time. They won't even remember having you. No one who met you will remember you. All of your possessions were disposed of. Your online accounts were erased from the world, as well as your little childish stories of love and adventures. All your books and writings burned, all your most precious things, never to be seen again. You no longer have a real name. You aren't even human to us. You don't even belong to yourself anymore. You belong to us."

TCHIAI part 6

I stare up at the figure that is now blocking the bright light from my eyes. Once my eyes adjust, I realize there is a freaking, hot guy standing above me.

Okay not to sound like every single teenage, fictional, paranormal book out there, but usually those books go like this, right? Something scary happens and a hot guy that is perfect in every single way saves you or the scary person is the hot guy that kidnaps you and then they end up falling in love or something like that. I mean, that's freaking predictable.

So, as I look up at this crazy hot dude before me and all I can really think about is his incredible attractiveness. Of course, I regret these thoughts right after I think them and immediately blush to the high heavens. Thank goodness he can't read minds.

"Oh, I can read minds."

Haha. That’s funny. I’m hallucinating because I DID NOT hear him say that.

"You did."

I sit up quickly, and he takes a step back so that I don't hit him. I'm in a room with absolutely no windows and I'm on what looks like a gurney. My head swings rapidly around, making me super dizzy. The bright light is from the one overhead, a doctor's light, which I almost hit, but handsome over there moves it upwards while he also escapes the wrath of my oncoming forehead.

TCHIAI part 5

Let's give a girl a heart attack.

I try to scream, really, I truly do, but heck, I'm so scared that I can't even inhale. And do you know what happens? The lamest thing happens. I pass out, because I forget to inhale as I see the creepy figure, right next to me.

I pass out, because I didn't breathe.

I PASS OUT. BECAUSE I DIDN'T BREATHE.

It’s a great story to tell people in heaven of how you died, really it is.

Angel: "So, how did you end up in the multitudes of pureness?"

Me: "I didn't breathe."

Angel: "All right, I understand. You drowned or chocked on some food, right?"

Me: "No, I became so scared that I actually stopped breathing."

Angel: "Oh..."

Me: "Yeah, dude, I know."

I feel really dizzy and as I try to open my eyes, I see a bright light.

"Heaven...?"

"Um, no, actually… You’re far from it."

Okay, to tell you the truth, I am really not "kidnapping material." I'm not a supermodel, pretty teenager that does dance and all these sports and mess. No, I’m a dirty blonde, tall, chubby, broken-out-face teenager that sits on her laptop all day, looking up posts on tumblr. And what do I look up? I look up posts of hot guys and fictional characters that I cried for multiple times. I'm the type of teenage girl that has never been kissed and still am really grossed out of the idea of it. I'm the type of girl that doesn't even want to be in a relationship right now because I really love just eating all those fatty foods and sitting down like a couch potato to read books, write stories, and freaking watch T.V. shows like Supernatural and Doctor Who.

Sure, I actually try to dress up really nice like all the other girls at my college prep private school, just so I can blend into the crowd easily. And heck, I’ll admit it. I want to look a little bit hot. 

So, maybe with it being so dark outside, I could have been considered for “kidnapping material.”

TCHIAI part 4

I wish I listened to my soul. I laugh as my mind thinks that thought, that ridiculous sounding thought. After about half an hour of sitting in my shaken state, I decide to get off my butt and put some pajamas on. I prepare for bed and get underneath the covers, turning off the light. I’m too tired to even try to read. I stretch underneath the covers until my feet touch my cat, Snugoms, who we smuggled into the beach house because we didn't want to leave her home alone for seven days.

Three forty-five. That is the time the digital clock is blinking back at me when I look at it after randomly waking up. My heart is pounding fast from a dream I can't even remember. I sigh and then try to control my beating heart, but no matter how hard I try, it doesn’t work. Obviously, this is true because the blood continues to rush through my ears.

My darn soul again, acting up.

My eyes begin to race around the dark room and as I stretch out my feet, I realize my snugoms is no longer there warming them.

"Snugoms," I whisper into the black. "Kitty, where are you?" I make kissy noises in attempt to call her back to me, but she doesn't come. I shrug as best as I can in my sleepy state. Maybe she is using her kitty potty… As I look towards the bathroom door, I see a dark figure standing there. He’s not far away, like a normal, less scary, movie person. No, this figure decided to be rated 10 on the scariness scale and decided to stand RIGHT FREAKING NEXT TO ME.

TCHIAI part 3

NOW, I want to listen to my "soul". Good plan all of this was, I scold myself. Yeah, let's totally go out into the night, all alone, freak yourself out, and almost die. I feel a little relieved as I reach the bottom of the stairs and look up towards the rows of beach houses. The house where safety is lies among them.

I turn around and look upwards, but the figure is no longer there.

When I turn back around, there he is. The freaking figure is, like, ten steps before me!

He looks like he can see the confusion on my face - as if it was as bright as outside is at noon on a sunny day. "Oh, I move pretty fast."

"Oh, I can tell," I say, mocking his voice. I scold myself again. I shouldn't provoke the guy who may murder me tonight. I begin walking again and then I say, "Well, you have a great night. Don't stay out in the cold for too long."

I pass him.

"Oh, the cold can't hurt me, little girl. I wouldn't worry about my well-being if I were you."

That's when I freaking run like the devil himself is standing behind me, and I mean, he may as well be. I  am still hearing his laughter echo in my ears well after I already entered the house and locked the door. With the door behind my back, I slide down it, my breathing erratic. I look down at my shaking hands and touch my face – a thing that is forbidden by my mother because apparently it will lead to black heads and giant butt pores when I get older.

Tragedy can happen in an instant. part 2

I laugh at loud at being so silly.

I walk to the end of the beach access ramp, to where there are stairs going downwards to the sands. I glance up at the sky - which is literally covered in bright stars, like millions of shining diamonds and sigh. Looking at stars this beautiful makes me believe in a creator. There is absolutely no way all this beauty came out of an accident. I lean against the railing and stuff my hands in my pockets, craning my neck to get a proper view of the brilliance.

"It's gorgeous, isn't it?"

I jump and turn swiftly towards the voice. A dark figure stands at the bottom of the stairs where I just came from. "It makes you think about what's really out there, doesn't it?"

I swallow to clear my throat before I say, "Urm, yeah, it does." I stand there awkwardly for a second, my heart pounding harshly.

The figure begins coming closer, climbing the stairs as he says, "Now, why would a pretty girl like you be out on a cold, windy night like this?"

I take a few steps back, until my right heel is off of the stairs, almost making me fall. "Just getting some air, my parents should be looking for me by now. I told them I would be back in five minutes."

Lie. I haven't even told my parents I went out. They still think I’m in my bedroom, reading my one of many books that I bought with my birthday money I received last week.  I start to walk forward, getting a really freaky vibe from the person. I pass him, keeping my eyes on my footing so that I don't trip on the uneven sand that’s covering the access.

Tragedy can happen in an instant. part 1

Tragedy can happen in an instant.

We can see darkness, but we cannot see what lies within it.

We only see what we imagine.
Your instincts warn you as to what is to come, but some never listen. They ignore the bad feeling in the place that so many believe is where the soul lays, the place right below your left clavicle, right where your left breast is. I believe that is where my soul lies, that is where I feel pain. I felt pain there when my brother died. That place felt like it was empty and hollow, and painful. I can't really explain the feeling exactly, but that is sort of how it felt.

I think that our soul knows when something bad is about to happen. Like tonight, as I think about walking out of the warm beach house that my parents are renting for my spring break and onto the dark deserted beach.

I feel a bad feeling right there underneath my left clavicle, but I ignore it, thinking that it is only petty fear consuming me from all those Slenderman stories I read off of creepy pasta on those late school nights. I tie my tennis shoes on my feet and grab my black, fuzzy, North Face jacket. I then head out onto the little porch that connects to my room and my room alone.

I swallow the assumed fear and walk down the steps to the backyard fence, down to the boardwalk behind the house. This long path that I’m taking leads to some sandy stairs and ultimately to the beach. There are deserted beach houses all around mine that are dark and quite scary in the moonless night, empty because it isn't the right season

I turn off my iPod that was playing in my ears to listen for any signs of other life besides me here, on this lifeless beach. The wind blows around tarps attached to a house that is under reconstruction, making an awfully frightening noise to the ears of an already pretty much frightened seventeen year old girl with absolutely no sense whatsoever. I walk up the sand-covered stairs, but stop in my tracks as I reach the top. I squint my eyes at the darkness, and then blink a couple of times. A black figure that I thought I saw for a second is, of course, not there.