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Blog
Goings on
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September 2007
11 entries this month
2172 total entries
Honor: 2,536 [ Give / Take ]
Its a story...
03:44:14 - Sep 30 2007
Times Read: 509
...about a girl who lost her reputation. And never missed it.
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17:06:22 - Sep 29 2007
Times Read: 514
and this feeling of uselessness shall dissappear......now!..
Now??
...now.
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01:15:56 - Sep 26 2007
Times Read: 542
it all feels a bit clearer now.
A bit is better then nothing.
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23:51:22 - Sep 25 2007
Times Read: 543
When you love someone
you would shoot the moon, put out the sun
When you love someone
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so......
23:38:43 - Sep 22 2007
Times Read: 549
...she is gone.
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03:40:42 - Sep 19 2007
Times Read: 569
You lead me to moonlight, only to burn me with the sun...
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You're/....
01:52:36 - Sep 19 2007
Times Read: 572
...gone
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When you're dreaming with a broken heart....
22:14:38 - Sep 17 2007
Times Read: 585
...waking up is the hardest part.
We could achieve the greatness of God's if we could overcome the horror and beauty of being human.
What if truth were a woman...? What then?
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00:14:38 - Sep 07 2007
Times Read: 637
omg thats creepy....u can find me on google
O_o
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Contest Stories....we'll see
03:07:18 - Sep 05 2007
Times Read: 646
Marked
She lay there hoping it had all been a dream. But the now cool liquid on her hands and face told her it was not. The voices and sounds of the police, paramedics and whoever else all faded as Kirsty sat up and looked around. No one had got to her yet. Funny, it was just a living room filled with 5 or 6 dead bodies and they hadn’t gotten to the one living person yet. Kirsty could only imagine how long a battle field must have taken to clear.
A woman in a black suit came over to her and sat down next to her, not seeming to care about all the blood and it getting on her skirt. She sat on her knees daintily and put her hands in her lap. She wasn’t smiling but Kirsty thought she seemed rather content with her new sitting arrangement. She could take it all in. The Bodies being picked up and put into bags once forensics had been through and checked everybody, announcing time’s of death. Kirsty was still sitting there waiting for someone to tell her where to go. Finally she asked the woman sitting beside her.
“What exactly am I supposed to do?” She asked half angry but too tired to raise her voice.
The woman turned to her. She wore deep red lipstick and her eyes were an icy blue, the type you’d see on a pure bred husky. She smiled slightly “Just sit and wait with me, it’s almost time for you to go.”
Kirsty didn’t want to wait. If it hadn’t been for them waiting her sisters and her mum would never have ended up….the thought ceased.
She was sick of waiting for everybody, but they just went on about their business. ‘Shouldn’t someone come and fetch me to question me or take me to the hospital or something?’ Kirsty thought out loud, hoping someone would pick up on the impatience in her voice.
One by one the bags were lifted from the room and out of the house. As two men picked up her little sisters body, Kirsty jumped up screaming.
“Don’t touch her, she’s alive!! No she can’t be dead!!” The reality of what had happened crushed her.
But they paid no attention, only a moment’s pause before zipping up. Kirsty stepped forward as they picked her up. She tugged at the body bag and made it fall to the floor.
“What the fuck?!” Said one of the guys. He had a red goatee and matching hair, and was in CSI uniform. He looked at Kirsty then to his partner, who looked back just as annoyed.
“Its ok leave her there for the moment, I need someone to come and identify them.” A man in a grey suit came into the room half carrying Mrs. Goldstein from next door.
She wasn’t crying but was pale as a ghost and her jaw was set. Kirsty stood silently beside her sister’s body bag as the man bent down and unzipped it.
Janet’s eyes were closed and she didn’t look like she had died in pain, though the trail of blood from her little blue lips said differently. Mrs. Goldstein nodded “That’s the little one…”
“Name?” Said another officer with a pad and paper.
“Janet Katrina Hill” Kirsty spewed out through gritted teeth and tearless eyes. ‘The dead don’t cry’ she thought.
The man in the grey suit shooed him away and put an arm around Goldstein’s shoulder, “What was her name?” he asked as if he hadn’t even heard Kirtsy.
She figured he had a formula to follow.
Mrs. Goldstein studdered and fought back tears fiercely. Kirsty was proud of her. “Janet Hill” she said softly, with the kind of respect she always showed the three girls.
“Good. Only three more. You can do it.” The man said.
Kirtsy followed them around the room, glancing back at the woman in black. She was now standing with her arms held in front of her, watching closely.
The man knelt down and unzipped another bag. Kirsty’s mother was in this one. Kirtsy felt anger rise within her. It was her fault, it was ALL her fault. She brought those men into the house and had trusted them. Look what had happened.
Suddenly the woman in black was beside Kirsty placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked at Kirsty with a firm but understanding look.
“These things are meant to happen. She was your mother, not a woman to be hated or miss judged, but to be understood and respected and loved. She gave you a gift. She is to be thanked.”
Kirsty let her head fall and silently tried to take back everything she had ever held against her mother. Everything she had said and done to show her loathing for her mother. And as Mrs. Goldstein said her name “Liz Mackenzie” Kirsty felt all the hate leave her.
They all shuffled, it seemed, in unison over to the next black bag. Inside was Kirsty’s older sister. There was no other girl more beautiful then her, and Kirsty had failed to tell her that. Instead she had been harsh, and dismissed her sisters self hating comments. Kirsty vowed from that moment on to send messages to, whom ever was upstairs, to tell Her that she was loved every, single day.
The woman in black stepped back and tugged at Kirsty’s shoulder as Mrs. Goldstein spoke the last name “Georgina Hill” and the moved onto the next body bag.
Kirsty didn’t want to leave she wanted to see the face of the one who had killed her family, she had to know he was in hell and tortured for his malice, injustice and cruelty.
The woman in black did nothing to stop her as Kirsty ran up beside Mrs. Goldstein and looked into the bag they had unzipped……
“Kirsty Hill.” Mrs. Goldstein stammered.
Kirsty stepped back, brushing against the man and almost falling over the coffee table. She fell to her knees as her legs gave way.
“Come on, they’re waiting.” The soft voice called from behind.
Kirsty looked up at the woman in black then back at her own body as it was zipped and carried out in a train with her sisters and mother.
“You were the protector of this family and so had to see it till the end. Now it’s over, you did very well. Come with me.”
Kirsty looked up again and saw an upturned palm facing her. A black mark in the centre. She took hold and stood as Mrs. Goldstein walked past her, looking right into her eyes, shivering.
“Do you believe in life after death, Mr. Smith?” she asked with a slight smile.
“In the cases of these girls…I do.” He said escorting her out………
It is now
She walked through the courtyard. The moon was out and shining brightly so no light was needed, plus, she preferred to do this in the dark.
For once her mind wasn’t rushing with thoughts. She was calm; she had regained her mental composure and was ready to receive the closure she had needed since the night they had died. Kneeling down on a patch of grass in front of a rose bush, she bowed her head and put her hands in her lap.
He watched her from beneath the cover of shadows. Her future mentor, past guardian and her present audience. He felt her heart crying, it beat had weakened. Her eye no longer twinkled and her smile was almost non existent. When her sisters had been killed, a large part of her had gone with them.
Her mind was quiet, and she was still. He could feel her thinking intently but on one focused thought. The ones she loved.
He had been there in her weakest moment, when she wanted to be alone. Of course she had known he was there but had resigned her self to the fact that he was just a figment of her imagination. Even crying out to him, sometimes in hopeless misery and other times out of anger at his absence. It had killed him though he knew she could feel him she had always wanted the hard facts. She wanted to see him.
The moon shone over her blonde hair and onto the back her of her neck, the top of her tattoo peaking out of her collar. The dagger.
Three roses intertwined around one dagger reaching the length of her back tied tightly but thorny vines. A symbol of their strength, loyalty and love. A strength that nothing could break, not even Zeus himself could compare. They were each other’s heart and soul. Each one making up the others. He understood her weakness. And so did many and she become reclusive. Without a heart and soul, she was not alive, just existing.
Finally, she stirred tossing her hair back slightly hands reaching up behind her neck and unclasping the locket that hung around her neck. She unclasped it and peered longingly into the faces of her true loves. She felt the words b4 she even said them.
“I love you…” her palm wrapped tightly around the locket as she held it against her chest.
She took a deep breath and relaxed. He felt her crying and knew the tears were falling silently. She leaned over a little divot she had made and placed the locket in there wrapped in one of her late father’s handkerchiefs.
They were buried, finally.
Standing up, she shook her head but didn’t move to leave. As if waiting. The future was now.
“Are you ready now?” He said stepping out from the shadows.
Her voice was small but steady and a little of the life that was her had come back.
“I am now.”
Plant them Well
"So, how is it that when push comes to shove, I always manage to remain so still. It’s been a while." I said.
Shamous. He'd been gone for what seemed like a lifetime. Though it looked as if he hadn’t even aged. Eyes just as bold and strong, always looking into me instead of at me. His long brown hair tied back into a knot. Yes....the same. Thank God.
"It has hasn’t it? And yet..." he looked around my bare apartment "nothing has changed."
He walked towards me slowly, like he was calculating every step. Brow furrowed in an expression that seemed he was concentrating with great effort.
"Julie....I, don’t know how to explain what happened."
I shivered. His very presence in my room gave me goose bumps, probably because I hadn’t seen him for so long.
The war in the Middle East had gotten to intense, for the first time in seventy years there was a draft. Sure, we despised the government and we protested but in the end Shammy said it was better if they went and got it over and done with.
We made love intensely before he left. The thought that we'd never be together like that again terrified us, and yet merged us together stronger then anything. Neither of us slept, we just talked or lay there in silence.
All too soon the sun rose, and all my love was dressed up like a GI Joe and off to fight a war we both knew wouldn’t end until everyone had what they wanted. When he walked out that door my heart went with him. I closed my eyes and felt it pull out of my chest like it was attached to his, leaving a gaping wound.
I cried myself to sleep almost every night for a year. When i got one of his letters, i cried even harder until one day, I couldn’t cry anymore.
I talked with my friends who’s husbands and wives had gone off to fight. We all seemed bitter but near the end we'd all be silent, resigned to our 50/50 fate. They live, or they die.
I’d come home tonight after one of our dinners and crashed on the sofa with a bottle of wine. It was our 5th anniversary. We never got married...but who needs a peice of paper to be husband and wife.
"Shammy...come here." I said.
Taking a closer look, he was different. Paler and distant. He was right in front of me but i felt that even if I were to reach out....I wouldn’t be able to touch him. I suppose a warrior goes through that.
"I want you to know that I love you. I never meant to leave you."
Even his voice seemed to get farther away.
"Shammy, hun, I know. It was the draft. Come, sit by me." I was getting scared.
"Promise me; promise me that you'll put the flowers in the ground. They blow away otherwise."
We'd always talked about having flower beds on the window sill but he had just come back why was he talking about something so...simple.
"I have to go now. I am needed."
"What?! Shammy?! Hey! But...what are you talking about. You just got here. You're on leave or something?" I got up but he backed away.
I was so cold and light headed standing up.
Every step I took towards him he took one back until he smiled at me and turned away.
I ran to him but my legs wouldn’t work. They’d fallen asleep as I slept.
"Goodbye hunny. I love you. See you soon." he said before going out the door and closing it tightly.
I got up and started banging on the door. My hands started to bleed but I didn’t care. I was crying but I couldn’t get the door open. i thumped and kicked it but didn’t even make a dent.
I could hear him on the other side
"Julie. It’s ok. Julie. Julie."
Then I woke up with a start. My room was cold as ice I could almost see my breath and the tears seemed to freeze on my cheeks. Charly’s voice came from the doorway.
I opened the door to see Charly, he was holding a letter.
"Are you alright?" he took a step inside.
"Yes, I just had ....” I paused. Looking at the letter again.
I frowned and took a seat o the sofa. My wrists were sore.
“He…he came to say goodbye." I said.
Charly fiddled with the eveloope, it was already open but we didn’t need to read it to know what it said.
"What? Listen…I just got this.....I think I know what it is...I want us to read it together."
Charly was Shammy's oldest friend. We had letters from Shammy sent to him just incase there was any news, good or bad.
"Shammy beat you to it." Julie said smiling.
"He said he wanted me to be with you." Charly smiled back.
Sitting on the couch, blanket around us, we sat there till the sun came up. The letter sitting between the Vase and wine bottle.
We mourned for him and said goodbye together.
"We should go get some flowers." Charly suggested looking at the vase.
"Plant them well. So they don’t blow away."
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Simplicity
01:25:42 - Sep 02 2007
Times Read: 658
Underestimated.
Undervalued.
Under construction.
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