All Things Fantasy

ice monster

2011-04-17T21:44:00.000-07:00

Always waking in the night to

Whispered words on winding wind.

These hands of ice that dared to touch

I swear won't ever touch again.

Every heart I held that mattered

Turned to ice, and slid, and shattered.

Naive of me, to think it nice

To try and touch you with the ice.

Through tear-glazed eyes, I hold a part

Of you I touched; fragmented heart.

I know now things can't be the same.

You're broke inside, and I'm to blame.

Poison is labeled, if warning is waged

A monster like me deserves to be caged.

Chill choice hangs midair; a stern sacrifice,

To die from the cold, or live with the ice?

The Man and the Moon

2010-12-06T20:44:00.000-08:00

“Daddy?” The thoughts of an aging man were barely perforated by the whispered word. Taking a slow breath of smoky air, the man sitting by a dancing campfire turned to face his daughter. Tree leaves far above her angelic head cast speckled shadows across her tiny frame, and the light from the fire seemed to age her face a few years. He couldn’t help but notice how much she looked like her mother.

The man held out his hand to the child distractedly, his gaze flickering between the stars in her eyes and the stars in the sky. The little girl took a few timid steps across the dying leaves and sat down in his lap. Her bright, blue eyes, framed by tiny wisps of blonde hair, studied the large hand that cradled her own.

“What are you doing up so late, sweetie?” he asked, his voice seeming distant.

The little girl squeezed his hand with her tiny fingers. “I had a bad dream.” A tiny wind blew, like a breath of air, and she shivered. He hugged her close to himself, wrapping his arms around her.

“You know what makes me forget bad dreams?” he asked his daughter.

The little girl shook her head. He turned her in his lap so that he could look her full in the face. His mind had deserted whatever it had been previously occupied with, and now he completely devoted himself to his daughter. “Stories,” he whispered. As if his voice was a sign, the fire gave a crackle, sending tiny bursts of light into the nighttime air.

The girl wrinkled her nose like she had taken a sip of sour milk. “But daddy your stories are always about knights and dragons and kings and boys. I don’t like boys.”

The man tried to hide a smile. “There’s nothing wrong with boys.”

“Ewwww!” the girl said, rocking back and forth in protest. “Boys pick boogers!”

The man laughed now, the traces of a few wrinkles beginning to emerge from his tanned skin. “Alright, what do you want to hear about?”

The girl grinned like she had just received a new doll. “A princess!”

“Ah, princesses…” the man said, watching his daughter’s eyes light up at the word. “So be it…are you ready?” The girl nodded eagerly, curls bouncing around her face as she did so. “You’re not going to fall asleep on me, are you?” She shook her head reverently, almost appalled he would accuse her of such an act. “Alright. Here we go.” He cleared his throat, took a moment to think, and began to stare into the fire. He stared so long the girl thought that he might have forgotten he had promised her a story, but then he opened his mouth and begin to weave pictures for her in the air. She sighed to herself and leaned back into his chest, inhaling the smell of the woods around her and his cologne.

“Once upon a time,” the man began, his eyes growing distant once more as he watched images flash across his mind’s eye, “There was a kingdom in the sky, full of people that floated on clouds and sailed across rainbows to get from one place to another. These sky people were beautiful, tall, and happy, and they had a beautiful king and queen that ruled over them. The queen had skin like light beams that dance in the sun, and sky blue eyes. Her beauty was unmatched by anyone in the kingdom except her own daughter. The queen and the princess had personalities as different from each other as the colors of a rainbow.”

The man paused for a moment, capturing the look of his daughter’s expectant face as she peered up at him in anticipation. The air around them was still, as if it too was waiting for him to begin again and speak of the wonders of the sky kingdom. “Well,” he started after a moment, “The queen’s daughter was extremely curious, and every day she would stare down past the clouds and dream of the land of earth she had heard tales about. You see, the people of the sky were all so beautiful and radiant that if they touched the ground, they would die.”

Slight pressure around his fingers caused the man to stop once more and he glanced down to see his daughter’s fingers clenched around his. “Is this a sad story, daddy?” she asked quietly, eyes downcast.

His heart lurched inside him like someone had tied a string around it and was trying to pull it out of his chest. “You’ll never know if you stop listening…do you want me to stop?”

The grip around his fingers loosened. “No,” she admitted before meeting his eyes once more, a signal for him to continue.

“The princess would ask her mother every day if there was some way she could go to earth, but the queen was afraid that if her daughter went to the world below, she would fall in love and never come back to her home in the sky. She lied and said there was no way.”

The firelight died just a little and the girl asked in a hushed tone, “Was the princess sad?”

“She was very sad. She was so sad, in fact, that every night she would go to her room and cry, and her tears froze in the sky and became stars.” The girl gasped and immediately glanced up in a way that was so cute her father almost forgot his train of thought.

With a small smile, he resumed. “The king soon noticed that the princess was sad, and that there was not a day that went by that she did not stare down at earth in longing. One night, he came to her room without telling the queen and he built the princess a secret door that opened on the surface of earth. If she passed through the door, a magical spell would fall over her and protect her from death on the surface. The king loved his daughter very much, but he (like the queen) was afraid that the princess would leave her home forever once she stepped foot on earth. He told her that the door would only open one time every month, and it would stay open for one full night. If she had not passed through the door before it shut in the morning, she would stay on earth and die when the sun rose.”

“Did she go to earth, daddy?” asked the precious girl, her eyelids closing half an inch.

“She did indeed,” he answered, tucking a stray strand of golden hair behind one of her tiny ears. “She left the first night her magic door opened, and she found herself in a forest. This was very strange to her, for trees did not exist above the clouds in her kingdom. She placed her pale, white hands on the rough bark. She smelled the piney scent of the woods. She walked through the freshly fallen leaves barefoot. She let the wind tickle her skin.” As if to demonstrate, the father blew gently on his daughter’s nose. She let out an innocent giggle.

“She found many things in the forest, but she found one thing she did not expect…a man.” The wind whistled through the tree leaves again, as if to remind him that the whole world was listening to his tale. “What a foolish man he was. He was no more than a mere woodsman, hunting and fishing, and resting by the river. He saw her walking through the trees… so curious and delighted by every little thing she saw, like a child just born and new to life.” The tone of his voice changed slightly, from one of mere recitation to one of recollection.

“He watched her for a while, and as he was a curious man, he began to wonder who she was and why he had never seen her before. He rose up from his resting place beside the river and began to approach her, but in doing so he stepped on a twig that snapped so loudly the princess heard and caught sight of him. She was startled and immediately ran back to her door in the forest, jumped through, and disappeared. When he ran to open the door, it had melted into the trees and was no more.”

Ancient oaks and other wizened trees loomed above and stretched out their limbs in front of him, but the storyteller saw nothing save for the images in his mind. “For the next month, the princess could only think of the earth, and the man in the trees. The woodsman, likewise, could only think of the woman in the forest. He determined the next time he saw her again, if ever he did, he would speak to her. A slow month came and passed, and the princess waited eagerly that night for the door to open. The second it did, she went through and began to search for the strange man in the woods. They met, and talked, and walked by the babbling stream.”

The father glanced down at his daughter, for she had grown quiet. Rubbing her eyes, she asked quietly, “What happened?”

The man hugged his daughter tightly, throat constricting. He fought a moment to overcome the feeling of compassion he had for his little girl, then said, “In the morning, she bid him farewell, and went back through the door once more. More slow months passed. With each new visit, the princess decided she loved the strange man, and the man decided he loved her back. They would hold hands and walk along the riverside. Sometimes the princess would sing him a quiet song, her voice as sweet as a nightingale. Sometimes he would tell her of all the animals in the forest like the funny little chipmunks that shoved as many nuts into their mouths as they could. Each time the sun rose, the princess would shed a tear to leave her strange earth man, but he would urge her home to her family so that she would not die. He promised her he would never cry, for she shed enough tears for both of them. One night, they had a wedding ceremony by their river, and the night sky above them sparkled with stars. The months grew long, and the princess gave birth to a beautiful little girl.”

“As the years wore on, the queen began to notice her daughter had changed. The queen asked questions, and eventually the princess told her mother of the magic door, the trips to earth, and the woodsman that waited with their child. The queen grew afraid and angry and demanded to see the magic door. As soon as she laid eyes on it, she tried to destroy it, but only the king could remove it since he was the one who put it there. Enraged, the queen did the next-best thing and cursed her daughter with the worst curse she could think of. The princess could not be touched by anyone on earth or she would melt into the earth and be tread upon by all the animals, nothing more than the dirt and dust of the ground.”

The firelight had now grown dim, but even in such pale light the father could see his daughter fighting to stay awake. He kissed the top of her forehead. Her smooth, young skin seemed so soft against his parched lips. “The princess was very sad; she knew she could never hold her woodsman’s hand again or rock her baby to sleep. The next night the door opened, she walked through slowly, and as soon as she saw her husband, she had to shout at him not to hold her, or she would die. Her child was a month old already, and they realized that very night that the girl would never have two normal parents. How could they explain to a child as young as theirs that when it grew, if it touched its mother, she would die? What if on accident either the woodsman or the child brushed against the princess in passing?

“She cried again that night, tears enough for both of them; she knew that she had to return to the sky for good. And for the last time, the woodsman and the princess sat by the river, untouchable. When the sun rose, the princess shed one final tear, the brightest and biggest of them all, and once she stepped through the magic door, she used her tear to seal her magic door shut forever.”

The man’s daughter was limp in his strong arms, and he rocked her tenderly back and forth, as if he held the greatest treasure in the world. His eyes were upturned to the sky once more, tracing lines between each star and connecting them all to form the face of a woman he knew once, long ago. “That tear, the saddest tear that was ever cried, is the full moon. And once a month, every month, it creeps into the heaves, covering the door to the kingdom of the sky.”

There was stillness in the woods, and peaceful silence. The world had fallen asleep, lulled to rest by the melody of the story as it had been sung through the air, a tune that time had long ago forgotten. In the stillness, in gazing at the full moon above, the man almost imagined he heard a voice whispering to him on a tendril of wind. It told him to hold her tighter, to love her deeper, to kiss her soft cheeks, to rock her back to sleep, to tell her of all the joys of the world, to laugh with her and make her smile, and to cry stars with her when she felt alone. Love her as I cannot. Love her for me.

With shaky knees, the woodsman rose, careful not to disturb the tiny person huddled in his arms. He carried her gently to their house built in the middle of an ancient forest, the trees hushing the wind’s voices so the little princess could sleep sweetly. He softly slid her out from his arms and onto the warm covers on top of her bed, then proceeded to tuck her in. Perched at the corner of her bed, he watched her sleeping delicately in the moonlight, then peered out the window at the distant sky. The girl, confusing this all for a dream, opened one lazy eye, and for a split second thought she could see upon her father’s face the glittering tear trail of a star.

it. is. time.

2010-09-21T19:57:00.000-07:00

Hello anyone. Since no one decided to read/comment on my non-babbly post, I figured I'd make a non-non-babbly to see if anyone would read it. And, yes, I am wearing spandex. I admit I haven't been sticking to my plan of blogging every time I wear spandex, but...I'm a lazy procrastinator, what do you expect?

Guess what. I actually have something semi-worthwhile to read this time, y'all ! :) Betcha weren't expecting that...Over this weekend, I went with my friend's youth group to feed some homeless in the downtown area. We headed over there around 10 and stayed until maybe 1? I believe the event was called the "Feast of Joy".

Let me just say first of all to anyone who ever wants to do this, if you are a girl, PURPOSEFULLY DO NOT LOOK CUTE. yes. old tshirt, baggy shorts, glasses not contacts, no makeup, maybe brush your hair... because, if you look gooder than expected, random guys WILL flirt with you.

Side note aside, we got there and my two friends whom I'll name "D" and "Rae" were handed boxes of Bibles, tracts, and bookmarks to hand out to the people waiting at the tables there before the food was served. The first group we approached was like five men, one of whom had so much smoke around his face I thought he might've been Blackbeard. We handed out our stuff, and I stopped to talk to this old man on one of the corner seats.

I knelt down to hear what he was saying because he had a soft voice, but basically my friends left me there talking to him, and this man like told me all this crazy sad stuff about his family, his wife, and kids. When he was done, I was crying and was thinking "oh my gosh how can I pray for him while I'm crying?"

I took his hand and he put his old hand over mine and I somehow muttered out a prayer, and when I opened my eyes we were both crying...it was like...so sad. As I stood up, he kissed my hand, and I stumbled around for a few minutes trying to find my friends again through tears.

BUT ANYWAYS the point of all this is... so many people hold on to things so long, things that break them on the inside, things that hurt them more than they think they do, and they just keep holding them because they don't have anyone to talk to. There are so many hurting people in the world that never get a chance to be listened to...and they have a world of sorrow they're so eager to release. And we just carry on, absorbed in our own little worlds that revolve around ourselves.

Also, that whole experience really opened my eyes to the things I have they don't - family, a good home, regular meals, ... my sanity. {srsy...there were some questionable people there. lol}.

So, I guess, I hope this made you think or somehow u benefited from my story. If ever ur church group goes to feed homeless, or someone else you know, I encourage you to go in a group because seriously it's an awesome, humbling experience and God can do great things.

alright...well...i think I'm out.

OH ! btw - See You At The Pole is tomorrow... if you don't know what that is:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/See_you_at_the_pole

and........yep, that's about it. all imma say.

~ Baker

ps. for those of you who know me, I HATE crying, but i cried over that man's story...i'm such a weakling. lol

The Day Begins.

2010-09-02T18:52:00.000-07:00

The day begins.

Ringing in your ears. Grab the phone, grunt to symbolize your consciousness. Slam it shut. Another grunt as you roll out of bed. The routine begins. Clothes, check. Teeth, check. Hair, check. Makeup? In process. Grab a waffle and a colored eyeliner. You’re out the door, mother calling words after you that you can’t quite catch. Grunt and wave, hop in the car, put on your shades, and drive to the end of the street.

Turn right. You’re out of the range of vision from the large, front windows where you know she watches every day. Music, on. Gum, in. Makeup? Still in process. One foot on the accelerator, one crunched up beneath you for comfort’s sake. Let the music push you forward. Let the beat of the drums and your foot on the accelerator tap in tune. Let your soul fly in the vehicle; don’t look at the creeps looking at you from their cars.

School’s in view. Phone, off. Shades, off. Car, locked. Dash inside to the ringing of the bell. You’re safe. Unload. Listen to the laughter echo around you, the friends encompassing you from all sides. Cram for a few minutes – the test is next period. Shove the book in your purse and pay attention. Grasp your wandering mind and pull it into submission. Listen to the girl on your right make a joke. Share her laughter. You’re safe.

Third period rolls around. Doodle on your bookmark. Meet the teacher’s eyes every once in a while, to give the illusion you’re attentive. Let his words soak into you; simply absorb. Try to keep your closing eyelids wide open. Watch his image multiply as you go cross-eyed. Muffled giggles. The bell rings. Everyone freezes, watching the pacing man at the front of the class. Finally, he raises the green flag. You’re dismissed. It’s a race down the deck.

Lunch. Grab the half-eaten sandwich you’ve been nibbling on throughout the day. Finish it off. Busy yourself with listing all your ideas for art, so no one will notice how little you ate. Tiny tidbits of conversation flash by. Food flies from across the room. Distant laughter. Annoyed teachers.

That freshman guy is back again, merged with your circle. Your bracelet is swiped. A battle for friendship occurs. Time for a breath of air. The deck calls softly to you inside the emptying room. March outside. Sun, check. Friends, check. Bracelets…one is missing. Brush it off; you’ll steal it back later in the day.

The periods fly by. Spanish class – write a story, just to see if you can. Whisper to your friend. She shakes her head. “aba, not avia.” Stupid preterit tense…History class is next. Zone out during discussion, mind still engrossed in the Spanish story. Yearbook. Crowd around the computer monitors. Practice making captions for pictures. Pride flares up – you see a picture you took. Laugh at the freshman, so silent and scared. Your bracelet ends up back on your wrist. The bell rings. Art class.

You’ve heard all the lectures before. Feet tapping, eyes closing…patiently, wait. Anxious fingers move the tiny slip of paper with your list of ideas. He’s done with art one; he addresses art two. Idea time. He stares at your list. The excitement shows on both of your faces – they will work. Bell rings. Up, out of the class. School is done.

Run down the deck after dismissal. Sing loudly with your friend who’s had “DJ’s got us fallin’ in love again” stuck in his head all day. The louder the better. He sings low, you sing high. Annoyed looks. Laughter. The rush of people, of noise.

Hop in your car again. Blare the music – on to volleyball practice. Walk in the gym, change, slip on your kneepads. Coach is missing…substitute is filling in. Let the misery begin… Miss all your spikes. You’re too slow today to dig. Call your mom because you might be failing Spanish. What? Do it anyway; you’ll explain later. Spike in rage. It hits the net, rolls down. Harmless.

Anger. Spike again. Out. Great load of use you are…try to serve. The ball flies out. Grind your teeth into each other. Serve again. Barely over. Smirk. Sigh. New drill. Didn’t move fast enough – run laps. Run again. Run until I say stop. Run until you can’t breathe. Run until you can’t run anymore. Run so much you won’t be able to play in the game tomorrow. Trains of words you aren’t allowed to say rumble through your mind, and for once, you let them. You’re past caring. For today.

A few concerned faces pop up, ask what’s wrong. Press your mask into your face. Nothing, nothing at all… smiles, smiles, smiles. You’re dead, or dying. The minutes drag on. Finally, you’re done. Parched, dart into your car and head somewhere, anywhere, for a large Dr.Pepper. Entertain thoughts of a milkshake, only for a minute, to keep your cravings happy. Dr.Pepper it is. Speed home, music drowning out all thought. There’s no time to reflect on how poorly you did, of how much you hate yourself. Only driving, on and on, the music numbing your mind.

Home. Grab your stuff, walk up the steps. Open the door and smell the cooked rice and melted cheese, broccoli and chicken wafting up your nostrils. Dump your stuff. Steal the last bites of food. Slide into your seat. “What was the deal with Spanish?” “Oh, I’ve done all the work, I’m only ‘borderline failing’. That’s what she said.” The conversation spins on. Do well, go to a good college. You have to work hard. You have to pass. Make A’s. Droning, on and on, droning, droning…

“And about that sleepover tomorrow, can I go?” “No, you have too many activities…” “But it’s completely convenient. Everything works out, and it’s near where I need to be tomorrow anyway.” “No. Stop arguing. You have too many activities…” Silence. Because surely you know what I’m capable of, and how many activities I can handle, and how well I can survive with little sleep, since of course you’re exactly like me and survive perfectly fine with little sleep because you stay up as late as i do every single night with no signs of fatigue... Bite back your words, don’t let them slip out of your mind and onto your tongue.

Say nothing – head upstairs. Grab your backpack. Dump it in the corner. Grab the computer. Music, check. Facebook, check. Homework? Maybe, in a little. You grow tired of all the talk, all the chat, all the noise…close something down just to open another. Get out a book. Labor through the problems, if only to keep your mind from other things. Work, work, work. Build calluses on your fingers from writing so much. Build calluses on your mind to keep out your thoughts. More music. More noise. More distractions. Finish your work, finish your conversations.

YouTube. Images flash before your eyes. People, the things they do, they say, they know, they way they say them, they way they do them. Watch the strangers talking to you like you’re a friend. Wonder about them, but not too long. Another video. Another distraction. Happy distractions are beginning to become bothersome. Computer, down. Homework, done. What’s left? Shower.

Grab clothes. Grab a towel. Time to check if the leak is fixed…waltz into the bathroom; the walls come down. Your mask slips off. No music. No friends. No car. No phone. No computer. The water hits the tub, drowning out all other thoughts except for a slow, soft voice. You stare straight ahead, your numb fingers searching for the shampoo and the conditioner. There’s nothing left for you to distract yourself with in this silence.

Shakily clear your throat. You begin to hum a small tune. It’s not loud enough. It’s not loud enough to drown out the thoughts you’ve been refusing to think throughout the day; the thoughts that lay in wait on the other side of that wall you’ve built in your mind.

Worthless. Pathetic. Won’t amount to anything. Whispers, whispers... You stare straight ahead, pale yellow tiles all you can see as the water around you drowns out everything but the voice in your head. Can’t you serve a volleyball over the net? You made your teammates run today. You write stories in Spanish, you finish all your assignments, you memorize all the words, and yet you’re “borderline failing”. What an idiot. The song dies on your lips before you hesitantly begin again once confronted with the sound of silence. You know you’re never going to do well in art. You saw all those other people in yearbook with cameras. They’re all better than you. You’ll never amount to anything at all. No college will want you. No one wants you.

Your tune isn’t heard over the noise of a thousand drops of water hitting the walls all at the same time. They hit your face, they trickle down your skin. Hot, salty liquid streams down your cheeks…but the faucet is off. You’re standing, shivering, your face wet with tears. There’s nothing left to hide behind now. What was that song you were singing? You don’t even know…it was just a song, plucked from the fabric of your sub consciousness…perhaps you heard it on the radio on the way home. How did the chorus go?

You whisper them softly to yourself, through unwilling lips, trembling and empty, your head in your wrinkled, prune-like fingers. “Don’t you know I’ve always loved you…even before there was time…Though you turn away, I’ll tell you still… don’t you know I’ve always loved you…and I always will.”

Your voice cracks. You grab the towel from the hanger and wipe off your dripping face, half-mumbling another song you thought you might have heard on a radio station in passing. “You’re the God of this city. You’re the king of these people. You’re the Lord of this nation… You are...You’re the light in this darkness. You’re the hope to the hopeless. You’re the peace to the restless…You are.” Why are you singing these songs? You dry off, slowly, thinking. “There is no one like our God. There is no one like our God…greater things have yet to come, greater things are still to be done in this city…greater things have yet to come, greater things are still to be done here.”

And then there is silence. You’re not listening. You’re slipping into your clothes, walking out the door, plopping down on your bed. Your fingers twitch for your phone, computer, music. But you don’t respond. You close your eyes. And wonder why a God so great…could love a human so small.

How many hopeless, peace-less, dark, lonely, angry, afraid people know about this love? This love loved you when you were hurting inside. This love loved you when you thought you weren’t good enough. This love loved you whether the volleyball made it over the net or not. This love loved you whether you took good pictures or you didn’t. This love loved you when you thought you were all alone. This love loved you when you hated your substitute coach. This love loved you when you cried in the shower because that was the only place your tears would go unnoticed, unquestioned. This love loved you when you wanted to be left alone, unloved. This love loved you when all you needed was someone to love you, someone to hold you and not say anything.

The love that loves when no one else does. The love that remains when you’re all alone and your mask is off and you’re not safe anymore. The love that isn’t based on what you say, or how you act, or what you appear to be, or what you do. The love that loves, regardless. True love. The love that you can’t understand and can hardly accept. The love that loves you when you’re mad at the world and want to move faster than you know how to think. The love that hears every word you speak in your mind when you’re angry. The love that knows everything you want to say back to the authorities when they try to control your life. The love that sees into your soul and knows every thought, and memory, and action…and still loves you. The pure, perfect, holy love that can love a stupid, dirty, lowly, proud, worthless, miserable lump of flesh like you. …And you think you can keep this love to yourself…

And then, you open your eyes. Breath of air. Chilling, calming. Piano music, on. Laptop, on. Mind, open. Another breath. An open document. A blank page. And then, you write:

The day begins.

Batman. and other things.

2010-08-29T19:37:00.001-07:00

O. My. Gosh.
http://www.batman.wikia.com/ <- go there. now. do it. now. it'll change your life. it's amazing. i went there. and died. and came back to life. a zombie. it's great. do it. now. ... just kidding. but it srsly is amazing.

Alright, hello any-and-everyone {or no one} who still reads my blog! The procrastination monster has struck again, and I figured since I would much rather ramble to no one in particular than do algebra2, blogging would be a good place to start. Don't you feel priviledged? -wink- So, for those of you who don't know, I'm kind of married to Batman. And when I say kind of, I mean as close to mariage as a fictional character and an imaginative lunatic can get. I decided that we would be married a few months ago after watching "The Dark Knight", and we secretly eloped. I can't tell you all the details, but I can tell you IT WAS GREAT. I am totally in love with Batman. For one thing he's super-duper cool {as lame as that sounded :P}, and he's buff, and he's committed to the people of Gotham city. I think the real reason I like him though, is because he's one of those people that can take the blame for when bad things happen. He makes the choice that no one else can make. Kind of like Jack Bauer... people like that always, always, always earn my respect. They do what's right, even if it means sacrificing something dear to them.People that take the fall for someone else's mistake, or people that take the blame simply because they have to. "For the greater good." Is there a word for that? Righteous? Hm. Deep, huh?

I figured, also, that I should post a picture in this post...just for visual interest. So, here's a picture that my friend Anita drew. She's an AMAZING manga artist and when I grow up I want to draw just like her >:P {she's my age, for those wondering :) }

Isn't it cute???? :D I'm catwoman. Anita had only met me once and didn't know I don't usually wear dresses, but STILL! :D ahhhhh, Batman...

Anyways...what's up with you guys? Who all even reads this? What kinda of slacking, time-wasting, procrastinating, interesting, cool, awsome people read my blog? ...oh, those kind. ... don't mock me, I'm out of practice blogging, ok??

You know what I just realized though? I'm wearing spandex !!! I'm pretty sure I wore those in the last post too! Maybe spandex shorts automatically induce blogging. Maybe these are my blog-pants. Maybe they should have theme music... dun dun DUN BLOG PANTS... sounds formidable.

ANYWAYS! I was thinking "hm...I should start blogging again." and then "hm...I'm wearing spandex" and then, bam, revelation: "hm...HEY! What if every time I wore my spandex shorts {of which I have two pairs. o yes.} I blogged????" That would mean a new post every three days or so. Would I wear you guys out with such frequent posting? Does anyone even read these? Maybe I would just blog for myself, no one else, just to vent and/or release my thoughts. How selfish. Whadda y'all think? Anyone. Everyone. No one.

Let's see now...since I'm trying to make this post as long, pointless, and drawn-out as possible... what do you guys want to talk about? School? Ew, no. No one wants to talk about that, and yet it's always the first suggestion. I don't get it. Oh, humanity...

Well, since you asked, school has once again started...and don't get me wrong, it's nice to see everyone and everything, and I love all my friends with all my heart, but ... the rules are going to kill me. For one, we have to wear these grody, nasty-lookin clothes that are VERY VERY ugly and don't flatter anyone except the annoyingly skinny people...I hate those people. Also, we aren't allowed to chew gum. ... If you know me at all you know I cannot live without chewing something. {Maybe that's why I eat so much...?} Hello, my name is Hannah Baker, and I am addicted to gum. [I'm also past the name thing. lol}

OOHHHH! While we're on addictions...I am ALSO addicted to SPEEDING. {not SPEED, speedING...I found out from the comments on my facebook status that I was addicted to speed that "speed" is a drug....lol! I'm so naive.} I don't know who all reading this drives a car {gocart, horse, donkey, bicycle, lama...}, but DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO GO THE SPEED LIMIT??? I have to ask - if the speed limits are never over 70, why do they make cars that can go up to 160 ?? Seriously! I personally think music has to do with it...I know the more upbeat of a song I listen to, the faster I go...and if I'm listening to a slow song...I change the radio station and listen to a fast one. That's how I roll. Yo.

Oh! Speaking of music! Music is so...incredible, and beautiful, and...indescribably emotional. Have you ever had an experience where you're like in the car, or in ... I dunno... a dentist's office...or....Walmart....and, like, this song comes on, and all of a sudden BAM it hits you that the song you hear playing is just...RIGHT ? Does that make sense to anyone else? OR that the beat and the rhythm completely infect you and you can feel the chords winding their way around your soul? ...... it's those moments I wish I could dance.

But every time I try to "bust a move" or whatever, I feel like a dying fish. I kinda just spaz every apendage on my body kind-of-semi-on-beat....and that is NOT attractive. I watch "so you think you can dance" as often as I can, {and I can proudly say I saw every single episode this season EXCEPT FOR THE FINALE SO DON'T TELL ME WHO WON!} and I hear the music, and I see the dancers flying across the stage, carried by the winds of music and I think to myself... "Man I wish I could dance"... because music and dance are forms of art! They're forms of expression! And I'm ALL ABOUT EXPRESSION!

-wistful sigh- Lauren, from SYTYCD, I wish I could dance like you... ok, time fo anotha pic... hm... necesito un foto....of dancing. let me shee hur....OH WAIT I GOT THIS! I'm going to post a picture I took when one of my friends who likes to dance went to a pier with me and we had a photoshoot :)

There it is. :) Copyright of Baker Photography. Oh yeah. That's me. ... lol. My wonderful dancing friend, o if only I could dance like you...

Ok, so while I'm waiting for that to load {because my computer's network system thingie is being very slow, especially recently...} I haven't heard from anyone in a while in my little blogging community, sooooo why not do a tag? Let's see, I'll keep it short....and interesting. hopefully. IF YOU READ THIS, you MUST complete the tag, and then leave a comment telling me so that I can go read your replies :)

1. Which do you prefer - spandex or tights? O.o and WHY?

2. Do you like school, gum, or dancing? All of them? Any of them? WHY?

3. Who is your favorite superhero? WHY?

4. Do you read my blog? ...WHY?

Well....I supposed I've killed enough time for now...BUT WAIT I JUST REMINDED MY ADD-SELD OF SOMETHING! [I'm not sure if I really have ADD, but it feels like I do ALL THE TIME]

Speaking of killing things, I am working on lots of new little stories that I am very excited about! I am intending to finish that story about Arnold and that serial killer chick. I am hoping it's going to become something very cool, and I in fact have another browser open with the next segment being written in it. Woopie. Also, I have been listening to super-dramatic movie music and writing down the first scene{s} that pop{s} into my head, and I think I have the beginnings of another story coming up. AND I do want to kind of hop on the Jess-Andy-Benji train again...I really like Benji's character, and it makes me sad that I haven't written about him in a while. That reminds me of ANOTHER story I wrote/am writing about the contents of my mind................ I'm not sure if imma post that or not....y'all might not be able to handle that. It's intense.

So, in conclusion, that is all my thoughts on the matter. What matter? Every matter. -going back to chemistry- OH WAIT, ALSO, I am taking meteorology/geology this year, and I think I might start just interjecting random facts, fun or not, into my blogposts in random paragraphs. Just to confuse everyone and keep you on your toes. The first law of themodynamics states that the combined total of matter and energy in the universe is constant. I don't know how that's going to work, but we'll just try it out and see.

-sigh- Now, what you've all been waiting for since I said "hello", I think I am finally done. As much as I don't believe anyone reads this, feel free to check back any time to see if I posted something acutally worth reading and not just a random ramble tangent.

Although I happen to think those are have the potential to be enjoyed.

So, my dearies, goodnight, and I hope you got SOMETHING out of this, if only that spandex are GREAT for blogging and that I dance like a fish. :)

~ Captain Bonnie Spinner

2010-07-27T22:34:00.000-07:00

Figured I should post something...this was oddly the first thing that came to mind. Oh, besides that I found my spandex shorts :)
enjoy n i shall try to post mo frequently i have some stories brewing I'd like to share ;) thanks guys!! :D

Hallie poked her head around the corner of her sister's door, which was open slightly. The sound of sobbing assaulted her tiny ears as her bright eyes scanned the tiny room. A metal-colored chair had fallen over as if pushed to the ground. The silver curtains were closed and let in a sole shaft of light to pierce through the dim scene. Papers, letters, and old pictures had accumulated, ripped down the middle or frayed at the edges.

Two tiny feet shuffled through crumpled balls of paper as Hallie delicately made her way through the dark room toward the shaking human sprawled on the bed. One black converse remained on her sister's outstretched foot - the other had been thrown across the room in a fit of rage. The sound of silence was so foreign to Hallie she almost didn't approach the sixteen-year-old on the bed. Her sister always had music on in her room. Always. But...she had promised.

Hallie reached out a tiny hand to the figure crying on the unmade bed. "Alyssa?" Hallie asked shakily. No reply behind the mask of red curls. "Alyssa," Hallie whispered again, poking a shoulder. "You promised."

The sniffling and shuddering stopped. A sniff. A sob. Another sniff. The form rolled over. Hallie's sister was usually pretty, at least, Hallie thought so, but today her mascara had run down her cheeks and her eyes were laced with red veins. Hallie took a step back.

Alyssa sniffed again and then replied in a broken voice, "I don't feel like a story today, Hal." She wiped a hasty hand over her face.

Hallie stuck out her lip like she usually did, her little fingers reaching out to grab Alyssa's clamy hand which still shook a little bit."Pleaassseeee? You promised. Pinky promised! And that means no take backs! No matter what," Hallie insisted, pleading with her older sister.

Alyssa stared at her a moment, then her eyes shifted upward as if looking for some words to say written on the ceiling. After hours and hours, she let out a sigh. "Fine..."

The word hardly left her mind before Hallie had jumped up on the messy bed, scrambled under the covers, and perched on her sister's knee. Hallie watched her sister's mouth almost smile...it was like it wanted to, but it forgot how.

"What'll it be today, Miss?" Alyssa asked softly, her voice rustling around the almost-empty room.

Hallie stated quickly, "A princess story please."

Alyssa closed her eyes, took a breath, and encirled her sister in her lap with her arms. "Ok...you ready?"

"Yes!" Hallie replied eagerly, hands clasped within Alyssa's.

"Ok...Once upon a time...there was a beautiful princess. She lived in a tower where her evil parents had imprisoned her."

"Why did they imprison her?" Hallie interrupted.

Alyssa pulled a blonde curl back from Hallie's face. "Because they wanted to protect her."

"From what?"

"I'm getting there, Hal. Just listen." Alyssa sniffed again, wiping a hand under her nose. "In this land, there were many dangers. Dragons roamed all over, burning and breaking things and eating people. Sorcerers and magicians made evil plans against the king. But, there were also knights who were rumored to be the bravest, most handsome people in the kingdom."

Alyssa opened her palm and Hallie absent-mindedly traced patterns in it as she listened to her sister's story. "The princess's father and mother were so afraid that a dragon or a sorcerer would eat or hurt the princess that they locked her up in a tower by herself. They made it so high that a man couldn't get high enough to reach the window and surrounded it by water, which dragons were afraid of. They thought she was safe."

Hallie's voice asked sweetly, "Did her parents live with her?"

"No, they lived in the nearby town."

"Why?"

"Because there was only room for the princess in the tower and they wanted to protect her."

"Oh," Hallie stated quietly. "Then they weren't evil afterall."

Alyssa began to weave her tale again, her soft voice and her encompassing arms making Hallie feel as protected as the princess. "So, the princess grew up alone in a tower, hoping that somehow, one day, a knight would come to save her. And, one day, a knight did!"

"Yea!" Hallie clapped her hands together.

Alyssa shook her head hastily. "No, no! This wasn't a real knight! The princess saw him from the top of her tower and thought he was, but she did not look closer or she would have seen it was a dragon enchanted by sorcerers to look human. The princess saw only what she wanted to see - a perfect knight in shining armor. The dragon tail went unnoticed."

Hallie sucked in a breath. "What happened?"

"She let him in."

"WHAT?"

Alyssa continued solemnly, "Yes. She was not looking for signs of a dragon and did not see his tail."

"What happened?"

"He chased her around the whole tower trying to eat her! A few times he almost had her, but at the last second she slipped through his grasp and ran out of the door. She was lost for the next few days. All she could do was wander around the dessert, alone! Eventually she ended up walking in a circle and she arrived back at the tower, only to find the dragon had destroyed it!"

"NO!" Hallie protested, eyes wide.

"Yes!" Alyssa insisted, squeezing her sister gently.

"What happened?"

"Nothing..." Hallie didn't notice the change in her sister's voice. "It is rumored she still sits outside the ruins of her tower, crying because she is so scared to leave what she used to call come and because she is so scared of everything that can hurt her now."

Hallie crossed her arms and said quietly, "I don't like that story."

Alyssa said nothing, only rested her cheek against her sister's.

Hallie said after a minute, "You ended it to soon."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. What the princess really does is ask the king to build her a new tower," declared Hallie.

"And then what?"

"And then he sends one of his knights to save her, silly!" Hallie laughed. Alyssa stared at her sister a moment, then wordlessly kissed her cheek.

"I love you, Hal."

"Love you, Lissa...but that was a sad story."

Alyssa nodded absently, then patted her sister's back. "Up. Dinner will be ready soon." She waited for the sound of tiny feet pattering across the littered floor and the sound of the door shutting after her.

As soon as the wood creaked back into place, Alyssa sank back onto the bed, arms draped over the covers now. Her eyes squeezed shut and she fought a sob inside her chest. Almost by accident, she scooped up a picture from next to her bed and blinked at it through tears.

In the picture, she wore a bright, yellow dress next to a young man clad in a sharp tuxedo. She bit her lip, closed her eyes again, and whispered, "You're not my prince..." And, like all the others, she ripped it down the middle so that she was on one side and he on the other. Limp fingers let the pieces slide through and fall to the floor.

Three.

2010-04-27T15:01:00.000-07:00

A fleet pair of black shoes landed noiselesly on thick carpet. Softly they tip-toed across the darkened room and arrived in front of a dark piece of furniture. Soft snores issued from an elaborate bed across the patch of moonlight on the floor. The moon was the sole witness to what exactly happened next, for as quickly as the shadow arrived in the room, it left, and the occupant was left sleeping soundlessly.

Four hours later, the secretary of state opened his eyes on a fresh new day and stretched. He was a young man in his early twenties with sparkling white teeth and locks of soft, brown hair. Groggily, he rubbed his eyes and studied his surroundings. Pleased that his maid had remembered to clean the clutter off of his desk, he slid out of bed and over to his workstation.

Nothing out-of-the-ordinary struck him at first. His hazel eyes roamed across the smooth desktop casually and he shuffled papers around. In fact, he didn't notice that anything was different at all until he had been sitting at his desk for twenty minutes and was just about to request tea when a beam of sunlight fell onto something shiny.

Raising a well-groomed eyebrow, the man reached for the glittering object and studied the note it had been perched upon. A thin piece of notepaper clearly read in a handwritting he had almost forgotten, "Take my heart and I'll take yours. - Jenny."

His face flushed at the name. Glancing down, he recognized the golden object as the ring he had given her on their first date. On one side her name was inscribed in fading letters. On the other, his had been scratched out.

The ring slid out of his fingers as he leaned back and sighed. Weary fingers caressed his aching head as his mind re-lived the years between them. Jennifer Stone. The prettiest girl in highschool. The coolest girl in college. The only girl who had ever found out he was a cheater.

A series of images flashed behind his closed lids. Her face as he gave her the ring. The way her hair felt when he stroked it on their first date. The way he snuck out of his house to see another girl. The way Jenny screamed at him as she explained how she knew everything that was going on. The way he didn't care that she was mad at him. The way everyone stopped to stare while she created a scene and he stared stoicly ahead of him. The way her tears flowed down her cheeks.

The secretary of state sighed and opened his eyes, hesitantly caressing the piece of jewelry chiding himself for being so foolish. It was just highschool. None of that mattered now. Still...he smiled slightly to himself and slipped on the ring.

***********************************************
A world of darkness. A neverending sea of black. And then. Oxygen. Gasping, Arnold opened his eyes. Light met him full-force, blinding him for a moment so that a slight headache began to develop. He slowly sat up. Where was he? In a hallway in the White House. He glanced down at himself. The tuxedo he had rented for the occasion was puncured by a bullet hole.

Arnold frowned and took off his jacket, revealing a bullet-proof vest underneath with a fresh, new scar. Looking around, he caught sight of a body next to him. The President. His heart pumped hard in a second of panic as he gripped the shoulder of the body and rolled it over. He quickly took off the president's jacket, revealing a vest identical to his own. It rose up and down. The President was alive.

The agent raised his watch to his lips, pressed a button, and reported, "Suspect A confirmed as a lethal threat. The next target unknown." He released the button. Static. His roaming eyes stumbled across the dead bodies of the butlers as he helped the president to sit up.

The president followed his gaze, slowly regaining the breath that had been taken out of him while holding fast to Arnold for support. "Mr.President, our fears are as suspected. Your daughter, Jennifer Stone, is the murderer o--"

"Agent Arnold?" a staticy voice asked over his watch, interrupting the agent mid-sentence.

"Lighthouse! Suspect A has been confirmed. She tried to take out the president but the target has been contained." Arnold nodded to the president while swallowing. "Next target unknown."

There was a pause over the radio unit. "Not quite."
***********************************************
A hum resonated in Arnold's head as he drove the black, armored vehicle parked outside the White House to Jenny's latest hit. The President sat next to him, eyebrows etched into a frown that matched his lips too perfectly. There was no music in the car, only the hum of the engine and the grating noise of the unpaved road beneath them.

Arnold swallowed, considering what to say to the leader of the country who had just found out that his daughter was on the most wanted list. "Mr.President-" Arnold started.

Before he could say more, the President turned to him with a serious face and said, "Thank you."

Surprised, Arnold asked, "It is our duty to protect--"

"No, I'm not thanking your organization. I'm thanking you." The president's voice was solemn. Pained. Arnold met his eyes for an instant before flickering back to watch the road. "You could have chosen not to let me in on your suspicions. Everyone has been looking for the murderer of my brother. No one would have suspected my Jenny." His voice cracked on the words.

Arnold cleared his throat. Not many people would have. If he hadn't known Jenny's uncle had abused her when she was little, he wouldn't have considered it either. "Sir, we believe many more people to be in danger. She seems to be seeking revenge on anyone who ever treated her badly."

The President sighed and stared absently out of the window. As soon as the words left his left, Arnold regretted them. Surely he hadn't been too terrible of a father. Then again, when Arnold had explained that he would be required to wear a bullet-proof vest as they were setting up for the dinner, the President had seemed genuinely shocked.

"Sir, if it's any comfort, you're safe with us," Arnold said, trying to offer what looked like a smile as he pulled into a driveway full of investigator and police vehicles. "Jenny still thinks you're dead, and she can't know you're alive. That's why you'll be staying with--"

Arnold was interrupted yet again as a woman with dark hair knocked eagerly on the window of the bullet-proof van. Arnold rolled it down and she exclaimed eagerly, "We're sorry, sir, but it's the secretary of state - he's been murdered."

"Good gracious," the president murmured.

Arnold immediately got out of the car. "How did this happen?"

The woman's eyes widened as she led him over to a stretched bearing a corpse of a young, once-attractive man clad in what he had slept in the night before. "Mercury poisoning."

"Mercury poisoning?" Arnold repeated, his eyes scanning over the man's discolored frame. Bits of blood marred his otherwise flawless skin when in his last moments he had gone insane and clawed himself. "How did this happen?" Disgust trickled into his voice. How did Jenny manage this?

The woman shook her head, staring at the disfigured body. "We're not exactly sure." She pointed to the dead man's hand. "But traces of mercury were found on his ring."

One. Two.

2010-04-23T20:25:00.000-07:00

i wrote this once {something vaguely like it} in a facebook chat, and shall henceforth share it with you all...hope you enjoy.

Arnold's careful eyes roamed around the splendid room. Men and women adorned in fabulous colors spun around him cheerfully while butlers waltzed in between them carrying silver platters of tasty bite-sized delicacies. A great chandelier stared down at the guests from below a painted mural on the ceiling depicting angels and demons in a storm-clouded sky. Arnold's eyes flickered down to his watch and then up again at the occupants of the ballroom. All of them wore masks. How strange it was, that this vital information worthy of the president's notice should come up while the president himself was hosting a masquerade ball.

Footsteps behind him caused him to casually turn around. A short, stocky man who was both well-groomed and well-dressed eagerly stuck out his hand. He pushed up a pair of spectacles, introduced himself, and immediately led Arnold down a hallway to one side and into a smaller, more secluded room.

"The President knows of your arrival, sir," the man was stammering to Arnold's half-listening ears. "And apologizes that you were so inconvenienced as to have to come to the ball."

"The inconvenience was my fault," Arnold rumbled in a deep voice, nodding slightly to a butler who passed by with an empty tray. The man avoided his eyes and walked quickly past. "But this is an urgent matter that could not wait."

The man hastily opened a door to his right, which swung upon without a noise. Inside Arnold instantly perceived that the president and his daughter were standing around a cozy fireplace on one end of the room. A table and a pristine couch decorated the other.

The president, a man well in shape for his age, motioned for the man to leave Arnold with him. His daughter, adorned in a slimming green dress, smiled up at Arnold almost in wonder. As soon as the servant left them, Arnold shook their hands in turn.

"Mr.President, I'm terribly sorry to inconvenience y--" Arnold trailed off as he met the president's daughter's eyes. "Jenny?" he asked, incredulous.

She flicked back a lock of her chestnut-colored hair and let out a light laugh. "Hello Arnold! I never imagined I'd see you again!"

The president looked at the two young people, at a loss. "You two know each other?"

Jenny smiled at her father, revealing a set of pearly white teeth that contrasted well against her tanned skin. "We went through training together." Arnold smiled. She smiled back. They both knew that wasn't the whole truth. They both knew things were much, much more complicated.

"I seem to have missed quite a lot, Jenny," the president said in a matter-of-fact way the way someone would report the weather.

Jenny's eyes narrowed only slightly as if to imply a layer of meaning he would never understand as she replied, "Father, there are many things you have missed about me."

Arnold studied the two relations. Their eyes were the same except for the emotions portrayed in them. Jenny's eyes were full of spirit, and life, and rebellion. Her father's were distant and serious. Arnold's memories shifted back to when he had dated Jenny in college. The President had never cared for his daughter. The only reason he seemed to mildly take interest now was undoubtedly because of Arnold's presence.

Arnold, suddenly composing himself, turned to the president with a quickly sobering expression. "Mr.President, please listen carefully to what I have to say. I'm with a counter-terrorist agency and we have reason to believe there are in fact at this moment five potential assassins in this building. We believe they are all connected to an attempt to take your life tonight."

The president's face melted from one of wonder to one of alarm. Jenny sucked in a breath, but Arnold continued to speak in a low, level tone. "I myself passed a butler in the hallway bearing a firearm and branded with a tattoo on his forearm he had tried to cover up with stage makeup. Do not panic; the agency I work with has a car outside waiting to take you and your daughter to safety."

Jenny's hand flew to her mouth, her ability to suppress her emotions less practiced than her father, who stared at Arnold with a clenched jaw. Arnold continued after a pause, "Mr. President. I suggest you follow me."

A second flickered by. Two. Arnold slowly pulled his gun out of his tuxedo's jacket pocket. The wizened leader nodded stiffly. "Lead the way."

Arnold nodded, gut clenching. "Stay close."

He walked to the door, gun held at the ready, stomach churning inside his body as he placed a tentative hand on the doorknob. Counting to three in his head, Arnold listened to the short breaths of the people behind him whose life he held in his hand. He pulled open the door.

Stepping into the hallway, he raised his gun up so that he could align it with his eye. He swung it down one side of the hallway, then the other. "Clear," he said softly, waving the two figures huddling near the doorway forward. The second the president had stepped foot in the hallway, a flurry of motion attracted Arnold's eye.

Something down the hall moved and immediately the sound of muffled shots could be heard filling the air. Arnold's weapon proved true as he hit one butler and then another who jumped around the corner. A third replaced the first. A body hit the ground behind him, followed by a muffled scream. Arnold felt a bullet whiz past his ear as he shot the last assassin in the neck. Whipping around, he saw the president bleeding on the ground.

Jenny had covered her face in her hands and her eyes seemed to be accumulating tears. Arnold swore under his breath and dropped to the ground. Trembling, his fingers reached out to take a pulse. "He's alive!" Arnold repeated, relief trickling through his rapidly beating heart.

Footsteps behind him signified Jenny drawing closer tentatively. Arnold began to slide the president out of his jacket, working quickly in an effort to stop the bleeding. "One thing's for sure - all of the butlers were after one thing; to make your father dead."

The sound of a gun cocking clicked behind Arnold. "They have failed me," came the harsh reply. Arnold felt his ears grow red in anger. He had time for no more. The trigger was pulled. Arnold fell across the president's body, hand clasped against his chest. Another shot was fired. Both bodies lay still.

Jenny's eyes observed two men she had claimed to love lying dead on the floor before heartlessly staring at the dead butlers. She pulled the gun to her lips, blew gently to cool the heated metal, and stowed it back in the holster she wore hidden on her calf. Without a tear, without looking back, she slipped on a mask that went perfectly with her emerald dress, and slowly walked down the hallway, into the ballroom full of people, and away.

New Post, guys!

2010-03-09T17:01:00.000-08:00

Hey guys!
How are y'all?
How's life?
...
No seriously, how go things?

So, I suppose I should post something new...does something new that's old count? Like...I wrote this a long time ago for an English assignment "to write a symbolic story". Props to anyone who figures it o-- wait, have I posted this befo?
...hm...
ANYWAYS! I'll post it again, and if I've already posted it before, I'll just take if off soon. {Implying someone had best tell me...otherwise this isn't doing either of us good. come on now, guys. come on.}

...IN OTHER NEWS {this is like previews before movies, ok?}
I've been writing this kind-of-analogous story, similar in style to "crossroads", and perhaps it shall one day appear.
Also, in art, there's this competition thing they do every year, and for the past few weeks we've been working to come up with concepts and ideas to do - basically, just sketches of general composition before we actually get to work drawing out the actual image.
SO! For my idea, I'm trying to kind of illustrate "Crossroads", and if it comes out well {we'll know in about a month...}, I might possibly put it up here. Maybe.
Alright, you guys are pretty patient and enduring, so...without further adeau, hoohah, or koalas, ladies and gentlemen, here's an analogous story! Have fun! Bring popcorn! Hey, you, down in front!

Four silhouettes snuck across the shadowed doorway. The figures hesitantly entered the art gallery, unsure of what they would find ahead. Dark, empty walls enclosed them, bearing no decoration except for the wall facing them.

An aging man with hair as white as sheep’s wool gasped in alarm, for on the wall he saw a painting. The image sent a chill throughout his blood and froze him where he stood. His wrinkled face beheld the artwork while his lips moved as if mouthing unspoken cries of terror. Faces and eyes stared back at him, lifeless yet moving; dead yet stirring. The emotions depicted in the painting seemed to jump out of the canvas and encircle him – pain, horror, and a dreadful feeling of unfamiliarity – the feeling of walking into a pitch black forest without knowing what would attack.

Beside him, a teenage boy asked, “What are you so afraid of?”

The man stared at the painting. “Don’t you feel it? It’s like looking at a black hole – it’s like the opening of Pandora’s Box.” And he turned his face away; he could no longer bear to look at the awful picture.

The teenager glanced at the painting, a lazy smirk finding its way onto his careless countenance. He didn’t understand why the man was so flustered, for all he saw was an empty frame embracing the black wall behind it. There was no painting or portrait or landscape to fill the empty void of darkness. The boy uneasily diverted his stare from the simplistic frame, and tried to shrug off the nervous feeling he got with a comment to the woman standing next to him.

“Strange for an old man to be afraid of such a simple arrangement.”

“A simple arrangement?” The woman repeated. “That’s an understatement.” Her blue eyes were locked onto the wall, for on it she saw the most beautiful sculpture she had ever seen. Vines and butterflies entwining golden flowers seemed to breathe with life. Light danced and played upon the shiny surface of the sculpture, giving the models twinkling eyes and playful moods. The woman almost wanted to touch the piece of art, for it was so overwhelmingly wonderful she couldn’t hold back a smile from spreading across her face.

“I wish I knew what the artist was thinking,” she murmured.

The teenager stared at her, and then stared back at the painting. Its dull simplicity met his searching look, and he said, “It’s not very beautiful – it’s a terrible conclusion to the art gallery.”

The woman shook her head. “I think it’s the perfect ending. They saved the best artwork for last.”

All of a sudden, the last member of their group, who had until now been silent, asked innocently, “What is it?” He was a child no more than six.

The woman gently took his hand and pointed to the work of art. “It’s life, dear.”

Confused, the child lifted his head for a moment, giving them a glimpse of his perplexed face. Curiosity shone in his naïve eyes. “I don’t understand,” he stammered.

“Look at the sculpture, dear. What do you see?”

“That’s what I mean,” the child persisted. “I don’t see anything.”

Crossroads

2010-01-28T21:44:00.000-08:00

Two notes, first of all.
1. Without Render, I probably wouldn't have thought of an analogy this wood, so props for that and I hope this isn't considered plagurism, however u spell it.
2. The moral of this story is NOT to hop into cars with strangers. Props to anyone who can figure it out {hopefully u can cuz it's not supposed to be that hard...}
Enjoy.

You tremble as you stare at the quivering choice before you. On one side of the splitting earth is a road that leads to a familiar path you have come to believe is real and exists, though only because of what you have heard. The other is a path you cannot clearly see, and the quaking ground beneath you does nothing to sharpen the twists and turns you can faintly make out past the crossroads sign.

The clouds above you swirl around as if they were a dark, thick batter being stirred slowly with a spoon. Your hands lifelessly seek each other and you clasp them tightly, eager to hold on to something as the earth tremors underneath you, sending you stumbling forward to the fork in the road you have just arrived at.

It’s time to choose…the earth is erupting beneath you, the sky is groaning above you, and the wind in the air around you sends a chill throughout your body, over your skin. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for your whole life – to choose your fate; to choose your destiny. What to do, what to do…choose the path you exist and believe is real, though you haven’t actually seen it yourself…or choose the path that is hidden to you, which has a few visible turns before it escapes into shadow.

You don’t have to make the choice. Well, not by yourself, at least. Another factor comes into play. A factor you have forgotten. Between the two roads, vibrating softly with each tremor sent through the ground, is a truck. Its hood is bent and broken, and mud covers the sides of the wheels and coats the bottom half of what once used to be sparkling chrome. A few broken mirrors and windows suggest something has deliberately attacked the car, but your attention is drawn to one thing: The figure inside.

With painful steps, you stumble over to the car and limply grasp the edge of one broken window. The form inside turns toward you and says gently, “Climb in.”

“I don’t know you.”

“Look into my face. Look into my eyes. You know me. You’ve heard my voice. And I have heard yours. Look at me…you know my name.”

There is something familiar in the corner of his lips…the curves under his eyes…the small hint of joy that somehow permeated onto his face though he wasn’t smiling. You frown, gripping the metal of the car harder as the earthquake causes you to jolt to the side. “You’re here?”

“As I have always been.” The man in the car looks at you and leans back slightly in his seat, inclining his head toward you as his eyes gaze into your face. He leans over and opens the car door, which creaks open like it hasn’t been oiled in ages. Firmly, he says, “Let me drive you.”

“But…I don’t know where you’re going. If I choose my path, I know where I’ll end up.”

“If you ride with me, I know where you’ll end up.”

You shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “I want to go on my path. I have heard of its end: that it is wonderful. With all of me, that is what I most desire. Security. Safety from the shaking world around me. With every beat of my heart, I yearn for control. I want to go down the path I know has no difficulties, has no turns, has only an easy, controllable route; a path I have made for myself with my dreams and ambitions…You will say … that I should not cling to what I do not know is truth.”

He says nothing, only looks at you because He knows you have more to say. Patiently, as a father listening to his child offering up excuses for a deed not done, he places a contemplative hand on his chin and rubs it slowly as you speak.

“You will say…that I cannot control anything at all if I am to go with you. You will say…that the safest and most secure place I will ever have is in the seat next to you. I want to believe this…I want to trust you with myself…But…I can’t see down the path. The shadows conceal it, and it twists out of my sight.”

His eyes gleam through the darkness created by the storm clouds, who have grown closer all the while. “You may not be able to see down this path…but I can. I know exactly where you will be if you ride with me.”

“But…I know what lies on my path. It will be wonderful, I just know it.”

“You do not know that mine will not be even more wonderful than anything you can imagine.”

“But…what if it’s terrible? What if I get in your car and we end up going somewhere I’ve never been?”

“Look at me. Do you know me?”

“Yes.”

“Have I ever led you astray before when you have followed me?”

“…no.”

“Then is there reason to doubt me now?”

“But I’m scared that your path will not be my own.” Your voice seems weak now, as you’re rattled where you stand as lightning tears through the sky and the car is illuminated for a brief second.

In the brief flash of light, the man inside the car lets out a deep, joyous chuckle, as if he honestly thinks something is funny. “Of course it’s not your own. But, it will at some points cross over yours or run parallel to it. Just because you choose my path over yours doesn’t mean the things you desire on your own path are not on mine.”

“But…your car…it doesn’t look safe.”

He lets a smile spread across his mouth which is well-accustomed to speaking words of wisdom, of truth, and of love. “Have I ever looked safe? Yet have I ever led you astray? Sometimes what is best for you does not look the most attractive.”

You look at him and say slowly over the sound of your pounding heart, “You’re not safe…how can I trust you to take me somewhere safe? How do I know we won’t get lost, or stuck, or killed? How do I know that you know where you’re going?”

The man looks at you for a moment. It is obvious that many thoughts are spinning around his head, and that there are a million things he can say to you. Yet only a few words come to His lips that He speaks to you. “Trust me.” These words are utterly impossible. These words call for utter abandonment of any hope of getting to where you want to go. These words are more than you can absorb.

“I can’t,” you stammer out, your white knuckles moving from the window of the car to the door. “I can’t. How do I know you’ll take me where I want to go?”

He tilts His head slightly, and replies in the voice you have heard so many times before, “Would you rather have me take you where you want to go…or where I want you to be?”

Your eyes dance from his tender face, wise and faithful, to the dark world shaking around you. You have plans for where you were going to go…what would you become when you got there; what would you do when you first arrived…if He wants you to give up those hopes, to give up your plans and allow Him to make His own…

He continues, “Is your love for me greater than your desire for your own comfort?”

The earthquake rattles the mirrors on his truck, and the wind picks up in speed, causing you to blink rapidly because it stings your eyes.

Unsure of what he really means, you ask out loud, “You want me to give up my life? In order to follow you? You want me to sacrifice my dreams and instead travel down the path you have made for me?”

He says nothing, but a glimmer in His intense eyes confirms your statement. Your breath comes rapidly now as you feel your chest constricting inside you.

“You want me to turn away? To walk away from my own path, these dreams I have had my whole life; you want me to let them slip through my fingers; to let my path grow overgrown by foliage until no one even knows it’s there?” Your voice grows tight with emotion, and a wave of sorrow passes over you.

He leans back in his seat once more, eyes on you, and says with absolute clarity, “I want you…to give me your heart.”

Another shake; you’re on your knees, clutching the only thing stable in the shaking world: his car. “I…I don’t know if I can do that. If I give it all up…I might break my heart in giving it to you.”

He extends his hand, as if He already knows what you will decide. It is a calloused hand, like that of a farmer. Scars decorate it where nails have pierced His flesh. Veins stand out against his muscles, telling of His strength, like that of a carpenter. His skin is well known by the sun from its olive shade, like that of a fisherman who spends hours outside. But the way that He holds out His hand…like it would be of a comfort to your troubled mind, to your aching heart…is like that of a father.

“Trust me.”

Noticing He did not reply to your last comment, you state, “You will break my heart.”

“This may be true…it may not be. I may have to break you down in order to build you up the way I have designed you to be. But take comfort in this; whatever pain is necessary is only for the moment, and there is something much more wonderful waiting for you, where we’re going. You must know you need to rely on my strength and my knowledge and my plans for you. Stop trusting yourself. Stop convincing yourself you know where you’re going.”

Surprised, and eyes watering, you ask in a quiet voice, “Will it hurt?”

“Yes. In order to give up everything, it may hurt. But the joy you will receive for following me will overshadow any sorrow I will help you to endure.” His hand hasn’t moved, and He meets your moist eyes with eyes of love. “Do you trust me?”

You lick your lips, your heart quivering inside your ribs with another tremor through the breaking ground. Is your love for Him greater than your fear of being left with a broken heart? Are your dreams greater than His unknown plans? Is control over your life greater than trusting the writer of life itself?

He remains, patient, hand extended…waiting for you to give Him your dreams; to give Him your plans; to give Him your life; to give Him your heart.

Belated Afterthoughts

2010-01-09T15:57:00.000-08:00

{of a mind scorched by marshmellows}

Hopefully by reading the title you have guessed what this post is to be about. {Sorry to shine on your rainy day, but, NO, you're not phsycic; you're just smart.} Ok, so after I got off a few days ago from being completely confused and weird, I prayed about my whole "trusting-God" issue, and guess what.
BAM! REVELATION!!!!
And usually it seems like getting an answer from God like takes a while, ya know? Like I have to endure and be patient and everything, but God is amazing, and these are some verses that just randomly out of nowhere HAPPENED to be in my devotional.

Jeremiah 17: 7-8
"But blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in Him. He will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream; it does not hear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit."

To me, that was like God was telling me to trust Him and trust that He has a plan. And the part about not worrying when drought comes, to me, is like how if I truely want to do His will and I'm not following my own selfish desires and plans, and rely on his strength {the whole bit aout the roots}, He's got me. He's got me. :)

:)

I forgot the other verse someone showed to me...but anyway, WILL, I hope this encouraged you the same way it encouraged me! :)

And, also, I remembered another story I have runnin about in me mind. It's about this chick, one of many, who grows up in a world where the gorvernment runs like everything. It's like in a future, hopeless, dreary world, where few have the courage to do anything. Just an idea.

SO ANYWAY! There you have it.

And now I am through.

~ Cap'n B

Updatedness!

2010-01-07T17:23:00.000-08:00

Well...hey guys. I know it's been a while since I had a non-chapter blog post. ... so hey! :) How y'all doin? Be honest wit me!
Anyway...the point of this message will be just venting/news/whatever pops into my head like the popcorn in Mrs. D's room's microwave cuz our microwave is stupid.

I got my SAT scores, and Chair and Will {one of whom will probably never read this} always pester me about what I got, so now I can finally tell them something. Most likely I'll forget by the time I see them Sunday and shall direct them here. I'll bet anyone reading this two bucks that Chair won't read this but Will will. Observe the usefulness of predicting one's friends. :)

The three main category thingies were critical reading, math, and writings skills. In critical reading I scored 59, which means I scored higher than 92% of sophmores. In math I got 48. lol. I omitted 9 questions and got 9 wrong. I scored higher than 68% of sophmores. Figures. As I once told my chemistry teacher when told that chemistry was as easy as math, "Math is not my strongpoint." And, lastly, I got a 65 on my writing skills, which means I scored better than 98% of sophmores. So there you have it. Now that all the numbers are out of my head...

*sigh*

Is it just me or does it seem like now, more than ever, people my age are supposed to have their live planned out? Maybe it's just who I surround myself with, but it feels like everyone around me has some inkling of an idea of who they want to become or what they want to do with their lives. And it's not that I don't know what I'm NOT good at. Obviously I'm never going to be a mathmetician or chemical engineer {may I direct you to paragraph 3, sentence 3 of this very blog post}. It's just....arg....

Somehow, in my own mind, I've come to the conclusion that they don't teach the things I need to know in school, and life is too short to do everything that I have on my list to do before I die. {Yes, I do indeed have a Bucket List. ... Yes, driving on the autoban is one of them.} It seems like it's not going to be possible for me to become an animal cop, photographer, comic book artist, writer, journalist, circus freak, makeup artist, selfdefense instructor, volleyball player, singer, creative writing teacher!! I mean how can I possibley do all of that in one life? And which one of these is what God wants me to do? What does He have in mind for me? What if His plans are completely different from my own and He wants me to surrender even my dreams to Him?

...

Can I give it up? Can I let it go? I dunno....I dunno.... the right answer is yes. Just as I'd say "Sure, if someone held a gun to my head and asked me if I was a Christian, I'd say yes" easily, but the moment someone with a pistol approaches me everything starts to get a little fuzzy and my determined resolutions of a moment before seem to blend together. Black and White mix around in their pait pots and turn into one, uniform, sickening grey... I don't think I'll ever know unless it happens - unless my fears are confirmed and I find myself staring down the barrel of a gun. I don't know if I could give up all I've hoped for.

But I sure hope I can. Because, you see, God works in myseterious ways, and it would be so like Him to completely shake me so that all I can hold on to in the world shifting and rumbling around me is Him, because He is the only constant security that I have. When my dreams shatter around me, I'll be forced to cling to Him like a child and trust Him to take care of me, instead of pretending to be tough and strong like I usually do. You see, {and it's strange I'm admitting this at all...perhaps I'll delete this post quite soon} strength is my favorite masquerade - my favorite mask to hide behind to show the world that I'm strong while I quiver in my boots and hope they can't see through me.

What would I do if my hopes were ripped away from me, my strength gone, my world shaken?
I don't think I'll know until it happens, and knowing my God, it just might. Because that would mean He would be my strength. And that's the way it should be.

Wrapping up this ventage-like-post-thing I suppose I shall one day delete....um...I forgot what I was going to say. Woops! Who knows? Perhaps I won't delete it. I guess it's pretty personal, but...I guess I don't mind. I guess I'm an open person. I guess, I guess, I guess because, you see, there's a lot I don't know about me.

ENOUGH ABOUT ME! What about y'all? Did anyone read this? Did anyone care? If you didn't, it's ok; it was more of a self-benefitting get-my-thoughts-out-type-of-thing, ya know?

Well...if anyone did read this and likes to read my blog for some strange reason...I have a few more story ideas running around in the twisted head of mine that I have. {what an odd sentence.} Obviously, the one i am writing now, Jessica...
I also am thinking about this one set in our world where this kid finds this portal cuz he's part dragon or something and he can travel to this other world.
Also, u know how I write like random scenes and stuff? Well, my friend wrote a story about this chick with cancer and that kind of inspired me to write a scene where this chick tells her best friend she has cancer and they like cry together, so I might turn that into something, and who knows - it might bless someone somewhere...I should pray about that one.........
NEXT! um........one that i haven't quite developed but I had the idea for this one time, is an alagorical story about this boy who wants to become a knight and the journey he goes through {symbolic to us, in our jouney as Christians}.
Next on the list would be the one about this guy in medival-magic times who goes on this journey to find this flower to save his dying sister and he meets this spoiled princess on the way and they travel together and stuff.

...that might be it......hm....yeah, i think that's it!

OH ONE MORE THING!
I saw Avatar recently, and I TOTALLY WANT TO BE ONE! I think it would be utterly amazing to be able to jump and climb and run and all that cool stuff like they do. I want to have a tail! i want cat-eats! I want to live in a world where the flowers go "blip!" and shrink into the earth! That was so funny. I want to live in their world so bad. AND OH MY GOODNESS I WANT ONE OF THOSE DRAGON THINGS THAT YOU CAN PLUG YOUR HAIR INTO!!!! Those things are so cool, they're like totally part of you, but they're....not..... I WANNA BE AN AVATAR!!!!

So, conclusively, your pants are on fire because the marshmellows licked them.

~ the slightly delusional Cap'n B! :D

Ch. 13 - The Dinner

2009-12-20T18:32:00.000-08:00

"You're doing it wrong."

“I’m doing exactly what you told me to do.”

“I didn’t tell you to do what you’re doing.”

“You told me to wrap the man’s wrist, and if my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me, I happen to be wrapping the man’s wrist.”

“I told you to moisten the cloth, wipe the blood off of the man’s arm, dampen the bandage, smear herbs on the binding, and then wrap the man’s wrist. You’re a terrible listener,” Andrew said.

“You’re a terrible direction-giver,” Benji replied. He blinked, staring at the bandage he had incorrectly applied to a bleeding wrist. Turning to Andrew with a vacant face, he asked, “What did you say?”

Andrew shook his head with a smirk, leaned over Benji, and fixed the binding. The poor, shy man whose wrist was broken and bleeding could only watch the two boys, trying to figure out if he should request a different healer. It was later in the day. The sun was already down, outside, and the streets were turning cold. The infirmary was slightly emptier than it had been. Those with able legs were quick to leave the dreary interior of the building. A few healers still bustled about tending to the few patients left in the building.

“The moon will soon be up,” a voice reported, from behind the young men.

Andrew didn’t turn to acknowledge Jessica’s voice. The young woman peeked over his shoulder. “The binding’s applied wrong.”

Andrew and Benji exchanged humored expressions. Jessica peered at the grinning boys, wondering what had provoked such behavior. There was nothing funny about a broken wrist. She told them dinner would be starting soon, and they made sure there were enough willing hands to tend to the rest of the patients before leaving the old infirmary. They walked their way towards the tower of the new safe house. The streets were nearly empty now. The cold air made them shiver, but thankfully it wasn’t a long walk from the hospital to the tower.

Standing before the tower door, Jessica and Andrew moved to block Benji from reaching out to clasp the door handle.

“What?” Benji asked, his expression one that Jessica imagined she would find on a child deprived of a shiny, new toy.

“You realize that once you pass through the door, you can never go back?” Andrew asked.

Benji shoved his hands in his pockets. “I had assumed that ever since we entered the city. I don’t want to go back. The best way to fight my father is here…not from inside the castle.” He grinned. “Not that you could get rid of me if you wanted to.”

Jessica was as solemn as she could be. She got the impression he wasn’t taking this seriously enough. “And you know and accept that if you enter this building, you’re legitimately part of the resistance? You’re no longer the son of king Darfane; you’re an official member of the resistance, and we’ll expect you to act as such.”

Benji shrugged and shifted his weight impatiently. “I suppose. I can’t go back now, can I? Seeing as I know all your secrets and the like?”

“And if you reveal any of them, ever, we’ll hunt you down and torture you until you can’t feel your flesh aching anymore,” Andrew added.

Benji grinned. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that day very much seeing as you hate my guts and my guts can’t die.”

“I’ve been looking forward to that day since I met you,” Andrew admitted, grinning.

Benji reached out a hand for the doorknob.

Jessica grasped his arm, looking the prince straight in the eye. “One more thing. You can’t tell anyone that you’re the king’s son.”

“I had assumed so,” Benji said.

“People in the town aren’t exactly all for your father-”

“Understandable.”

“And there’s no telling how they’ll react if you tell them.”

“Of course.” Jessica released Benji’s arm and sighed. Benji gave her a wide grin. Andrew and Jessica rolled their eyes and stepped away from the door. The door opened with a creak and they walked through the doorway into the safe house.

“That’s it?” Benji asked. They were crammed in a small, dim room containing a table, two broken chairs, and a door at the far side of the wall. The walls were made of wooden beams, and tiny rifts in the walls let in slivers of dying light, illuminating a plain, dirty ground.

Andrew dropped to his knees and began patting the wooden floor. A few seconds later, his hands stopped on top of a small object connected to the ground. He cast a satisfied look back at his friends before wrenching open a trapdoor and hurrying inside.

Benji didn’t need Jessica to tell him that he was next. The prince disappeared through the hole without a word to her. Jessica cast one last look around the dingy room before following the two boys, pulling the door closed behind her. She found herself standing in a large hallway at the end of which resided a pair of large double-doors with brass handles. Doors lined each side of the hall, painted different colors with different numbers and words decorating their exteriors.

Jessica eagerly followed the boys down the hall toward the great room. Andrew arrived there first, and he threw the doors open wide. Noise blasted out, and firelight nearly blinded them. The sound of mugs hitting tabletops, and plates being set down echoed in the large room before them. Three long tables ran the distance of the room, laden with food and plates. Men, women, and children sat around the tables conversing and jesting and eating.

Almost immediately, Jessica and Andrew were bombarded with a few little girls who had more questions than they did teeth. The children grabbed their hands and led them over to a table, a small girl no older than six taking Benji’s hand shyly and asking him to sit by her. Plates were set before them by grinning faces, some familiar, and some not. It took a moment for Benji to soak in all that was going on.

The smell of something spicy yet tangy reached his nostrils, and a platter of steaming meat was set before him. He eagerly grabbed a few slices and began to devour them. They had been eating nothing but apples, bread, and a few grapes for the past four days. It was nice to have a real meal. Or as close to a real meal as they could get. There were only two plates of meat per table, one loaf of bread, and two bowls of fruit. The prince didn’t notice the fact that the portions were meager, nor did the Jessica and Andrew think it odd, for they had been given slim servings all their lives. They were simply happy to have hot food before them. They grinned at each other as they watched the prince eating.

“Are you enjoying your food?” Andrew asked through a bite of bread.

Benji nodded. “Yes! I don’t remember anything tasting this wonderful! Ever! Not even—” he trailed off, noting the attentive little ears around him. He cautiously continued, “Not even where I came from before.”

Jessica swallowed a mouthful of cordial and stroked her chin as if deep in thought. “You know, Andy,” she said, turning to him as if to discuss something as trivial as the weather. “I never thought Benji would find such satisfaction eating pig ears.”

Benji adopted his usual smug face. Unscathed, he replied quickly, “Of course I would; I eat all kinds of things.”

Andrew lifted an eyebrow. “Cow tongue?”

“I used to eat that for breakfast.”

“Horse tail?”

“Consider it a delicacy.”

“Fish eyes?”

“Every night with a glass of milk.”

“Newt liver.”

“I once had five in a row.”

Jessica jumped in with the question, “Dried Ogre kidney and Troll feet covered with steamed snail entrails?”

Benji gave her a stunned look. He seemed to be faltering for an answer to her unexpected contribution. Andrew’s face quickly turned into one of amusement. Jessica giggled. Benji gave her a sheepish look, but he couldn’t help chuckling. Soon, even the little girls sitting next to them were howling with laughter.

They enjoyed the rest of their meal, eating heartily and happily. No one asked where the meat really came from. In hard-pressed times, they took advantage of every opportunity where meat presented itself. Especially after battles.

A few minutes into their dinner, and after several people had introduced themselves to the trio, Andrew elbowed Jessica and pointed across the room. Benji sat across from them, unable to see what they had spotted. The six-year-old girl sitting next to him yanked on his sleeve. Benji’s eyebrows rose as she gestured behind him.

“There’s the Dane,” the girl whispered, her eyes riveted on the man she saw pacing down the aisle between two tables. Curious, Benji turned around on his wooden bench to stare at the man they called “The Dane”.

The Dane was tall, and lean, with thick arms nearly hidden by a large, leather jacket. He looked to be no more than twenty-five, and he greeted those around him with youthful energy, laughing and talking with everyone sitting around the tables. His broad, muscled chest was covered by a loose, brown shirt a few hues lighter than the trousers he wore. Tousled locks of dark hair fell almost below his jaw, and the hint of a beard beginning to grow shaded his chin. He was almost hard to see clearly because he was moving so quickly and turning one way and then the other in an effort to converse with everyone around him.

“He talks to you?” Benji asked.

Andrew turned from scrutinizing the man. “Yes...”

Jessica studied Benji’s face before commenting, “We believe a leader should be equal with the people they lead. No one likes a distant superior.” “Like your father,” she thought to herself.

The little girl beside Benji glanced up into the prince’s face. “Are you new?” she asked, eyes shining with curiosity.

“Uh…yes, you could say that,” Benji replied.

“What’s your name?”

“Penelope.”

The girl giggled. “No it’s not,” she insisted childishly.

“You’re right; I lied. It’s Benji. What’s yours?”

“Ting,” she said, smiling underneath wide, brown eyes.

“What is it you like to do, Ting?” Benji asked.

“I like to dance…and I can fight good. And sing. I like to sing.”

“What songs do you like to sing-sing, Ting-Ting?” he asked.

She giggled again. Jessica stared at the prince as he talked to the child. She couldn’t keep a smile from trickling onto her face. She watched him make a bead from the child’s necklace disappear and then pull it out of her ear. The child was immensely delighted at this, and giggled unceasingly for several minutes.

“That’s an interesting trick,” commented a voice. Jessica whirled around to find the Dane looming over them. “Welcome back,” he said to them, cheerfully. Two brown eyes danced in his square face. A firm chin poked out from underneath a broad, white smile. Jessica smiled and watched Andrew stand up and clap hands with the man. This was their leader. Strong. Brave. The Dane’s eyes roamed over Benji’s features. They were deep, dark eyes. Experienced. Knowing. Wise.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said, extending a large hand decorated with a few thick rings to Benji.

“Hello – I’m Benji.”

“The Dane.” They shook hands. “A new recruit, I assume?”

Jessica nodded.

The Dane’s eyes averted back to his loyal agents. “I trust he’s a sturdy fighter with a sharp mind?”

“Sturdy fighter, yes,” Jessica said, glancing at Benji, who had assumed an interested expression. “As for his mind…well, we all have our weaknesses.”

Benji’s eyes narrowed, but not threateningly. “What do you know of sharp minds? Your own is as sharp as the curve of a wagon wheel.”

Without blinking, Jessica shot back, “If that is true, than at least my wheel is still turning; yours is broken and doubtlessly stuck.”

The Dane let out a deep laugh, his white teeth contrasting well against his tan skin. “Oh, Jess, it’s good to have you back.” He leaned down to Benji, who was gaping at Jessica, and whispered, “Take no offense – mental jousting is just as important as sparring with swords, and this young maiden has had many opportunities to practice.”

Straightening, he said louder, “I didn’t expect you two here; I thought you were back in Tosh carrying out an assignment. Brooke and I got called on a meeting short-notice, or else we would have met you when you arrived back - what brings you to Darwol?”

Jessica swallowed. Andrew slowly rose from the bench. Suddenly Jessica felt sick to her stomach. The faces of her dead friends and the dead city rose, unbidden, in her mind. “Brooke didn’t tell you?”

The man’s jovial expression faded. “I haven’t seen Brooke since the battle…”

Neither three of the youths spoke. The Dane waited expectantly, sobering with each passing second.

Andrew’s soft response broke the silence that had slowly settled over the great hall. Everyone on every table was looking at them. “Soldiers. Tosh…is…dead.”

Jessica’s eyes closed. She could feel the sadness building in her chest. She fought it, focusing all her energy on breathing. Andrew’s eyes averted to the ground. Benji lowered his head respectfully, his gaze on the table in front of him. He was expecting for the people to burst into tears, or for a wailing to rise from the heart of the room.

No sound reached his ears. No one cried. Even the girl beside him stared numbly at Andrew. The Dane stared at the ground for a moment, not saying a word. His brow creased in concentration and his hands froze in a clenched position.

There was a flurry of motion that Benji saw from the corner of his eye. Brooke opened the door and began to walk in. Instantly aware of the pressing stillness, she paused and looked around. Spotting the Dane, she strode over to him confidently. Her arms wound their way around him in a tight embrace.

He raised his head and Brooke released him. He scooped up a lit candle from the nearest table and lifted it high, for all to see.

“Friends,” he addressed them, in a deep voice. He wasn’t shouting. He wasn’t whispering. His voice had reached an octave that seemed to rumble, though it was soft. The people sitting at tables all wordlessly took the candles lighting the room and lifted them. The girl next to Benji looked at him expectantly. He grabbed a candle and she placed her small hand over his; she was too young to handle flame by herself.

“Tonight we have seen the beginning of dark times yet to come…the creatures we have seen are many, and growing. The people we have lost were brave, and few. But the war is not over.” The firelight cast a vivid array of light and shadow across the Dane’s face and the sober crowd seated around him like a flock of sullen ghosts. “We will fight on.” Determination spread from his heart to his voice. “We will fight on for the ones we have left behind. We will fight on for those who cannot fight for themselves. We will fight because we have something worth fighting for.”

“Friends,” he turned around, making eye contact with as many people as he could. “Do not forget those who have died today, or the day before, or many days ago. They are the reason we fight on tomorrow.” He raised his candle higher. “For the brave men and women who gave their lives at Tosh.”

A few murmurs echoed about the room, whispered words of regret, or agreement, or pain. Then, as one and following the Dane’s lead, they all lowered their candles and blew them out. They were cast into complete darkness. Jessica wondered if this was how Melody had felt…if this was like dying. Complete stillness, and darkness, and silence.

Ch. 12 - The Injured

2009-11-24T20:38:00.000-08:00

Jessica’s perceptive gaze swept over the streets. A few people had fallen and hadn’t stirred from where they lay. The bodies of soldiers as well as citizens could be seen sprawled across the streets. She eyed the body of the bird-like creature that Benji had killed. The young men stood beside her, studying the mass of flesh hiding underneath black armor. Its head was bald save for a few scruffy feathers poking out of its black skin, arranged like a misshapen crown. Its red eyes stared blindly up at the three companions through translucent eyelids. The large, hard beak poked out of its face, partially opened in a sneer that revealed its nasty, black teeth. A scrawny, bird-like neck protruded from the black breastplate, and the rest of its body was covered in its armor.

“What is it?” Jessica asked.

Benji replied without a trace of his usual smugness. “It’s a Waranger. I learned of those in my mythology class. Terrible beasts. The only way to kill them is with fire; otherwise they’re virtually indestructible.”

A hand grasped Jessica’s forearm firmly. Alarmed, she gasped and spun around. Andrew grinned.

“Jess!” a voice exclaimed, behind her. The hand loosened its hold and Jessica found herself staring into the eyes of a friend.

“Brooke!” she responded, laughing. The two young women embraced each other and chuckled, happy to be united once again. “It feels like much more than three days!” Jessica clasped her friend’s forearms and held her, examining her friend with a smile.

Brooke was a good two inches taller than Jessica, and her skin was as dark as the night sky in the summertime. Her face was shaped like a heart, and her black hair fell in unorganized curls around it. She possessed two unusually large, brown eyes that stuck out of her skin, and a white smile so huge it almost balanced out her wide eyes. She wasn’t extremely skinny, but rather possessed a muscular build, not that it was very apparent underneath her full-length skirt and over-sized blouse. She was several years older than Jessica, but she looked young and full of energy.

“Welcome back,” she said, her voice light and cheerful. She glanced over at Andrew, and then her eyes wandered over to the beggar beside them.

“He’s with us,” Jessica said. “New recruit.”

Benji gave her a charming grin, sticking out his hand. “Hello, I’m Benji,” he said.

Brooke clasped his hand in hers and shook it heartily. “I’m Brooke. Co-head of the resistance. My husband, the Dane, is in charge around here.” Her bug-like eyes shifted to search the rooftops. “He was helping the archers last time I saw him.” Her attention reverted back to the trio. “We got called here last-minute. Scout came and told us we’d been summoned.” She looked past them and around them, like she was expecting someone else to emerge from the shadows of the ramshackle houses. “Where’s the rest of the league?”

A shadow of regret passed over Jessica’s face. Andrew shook his head and answered, “Dead. The army killed everyone in Tosh. Apparently, while we were gone, the soldiers came and obliterated everything. When we got there, everyone inside the safe house was dead or dying. Justin told us where you had gone, and that’s how we knew where to find you.”

Brooke’s smile melted off her face. “All of them?” she whispered. Jessica nodded, trying to block out the images in her mind of her friends who were dead. Brooke closed her eyes, raised her hands to cover her face, and said nothing.

“It appears you two left just in the nick of time,” Andrew said.

“Indeed. We should hold a ceremony for them,” Brooke said, opening her eyes again. They were moist, but she didn’t allow a tear to slide down her cheek. People had begun to move again, and some had taken to clearing the streets of bodies. Others tended to the wounded. The archers had disappeared from the rooftops, and Jessica suspected they were meandering about the streets, helping wherever someone needed an extra hand.

Brooke sniffed and took Jessica’s hand. “Time for that later; we need to tend to the wounded now.” She led them through the people and bodies of the street, approaching a small building that looked less deteriorated than some of the others. Jessica made it a point not to look at the dead people. It would only make her sick, or sad, both of which were signs of weakness.

They approached the wooden door in the stone building and Brooke pushed it open. Tables lined both walls of the crowded room, and the smell of smoke floated by Jessica’s nostrils. Wounded people were sprawled out over the tables. Small candles rested on top of the side tables, upon which sat various herbs, bindings, and other items meant to help heal the sick. Jessica’s eyes jumped from one being to the next. Blood dripping down an extended arm…someone clutching their leg, their face wrinkled in pain… a hand clutching a shoulder that looked as if it had popped out of its joint.

Jessica swallowed. Brooke led them to the back of the room, pulling up the sleeves of her large shirt. They stopped in front of a table upon which a man sat, waiting. His dark, shaggy hair covered his eyes, and he sat with his back resting against the wall. A hood covered his face. He gripped his bloodied arm loosely in his other hand. Brooke turned to Andrew and Benji. “You two want to get started with them?” she asked, gesturing toward a few bodies draped over tables no more than ten yards away.

Andrew nodded. Benji said softly, “I’ve never…tended to anyone before…”

“Do what I say and you might be alright,” Andrew said, a hint of a smirk on his face. Jessica watched the two boys walk off, out of earshot. She let out a long sigh and turned to her friend, the heavy mood of the room settling over her soul and dampening her spirit.

“Can you dip that cloth in water and hand it to me, please?” Brooke asked as she took the bloodied arm in her grasp and inspected it. Jessica blinked at the bowl of water resting on the table next to a rag and a pile of dried plants. She doused the cloth in water and handed it, dripping, to Brooke.

Jessica watched the woman talk to the man, gently wiping away the blood from his arm. He didn’t say anything in response. He had thick gashes down his forearm and snaking around to his elbow, and it looked like the bone of his elbow was sticking out of his skin. Brooke worked quickly to cleanse his skin from dirt and blood. She glanced around, searching for something impatiently.

“Jess, could you find me a length of rope?”

Jessica wordlessly floated around the tables until she found the necessary item and brought it back. Brooke took the rope and placed it in the man’s good hand. “Bite this.”

For the first time, the man spoke. His voice was deep but smooth, and Jessica imagined he might sound nice as a singer. “I don’t need that.”

Brooke placed a hand on her hip. “It’s going to hurt, and I won’t have you screaming to the whole hospital making them think we don’t treat you well. You need to bite the rope to withstand the pain.”

He raised his head, and Jessica was slightly startled by his features. Long scars stretched down the corners of his cheeks, the purple lines spreading across the bridge of his nose and even over his neck. Tattoos and designs decorated his jaw and covered his throat. His firm chin was set in defiance, and he stared at the young women from underneath dark eyebrows. “Don’t speak to me of pain. I don’t need a rope.”

His eyes were so dark they looked black, and he stared at Brooke challengingly. Jessica thought for a moment that she would retort with a clever remark. Instead, she merely reached out, firmly gripped his elbow, and snapped it back into place with a jolt. A pop issued from his body, but the man only flinched, keeping his eyes on the young woman.

Brooke began to dress his wound, Jessica wordlessly handing her herbs and cloth bandages. “What do they call you?” she asked.

He rested his head against the wall behind him. A few dark locks of hair shifted with the motion. Jessica couldn’t keep herself from staring at the man’s strange facial markings. It was like he had gotten in a fight with a razor blade gone mad.

“They call me many things,” his voice rumbled from beneath the hood he was adjusting over his face, obscuring his mangled features. “You may call me Jaimus.”

Brooke finished tying the cloth bandage around his arm. “Do you live in the city?”

“I was coming through for a meeting. With your husband, I believe.” Brooke stared at him.

“You’re the storyteller, aren’t you?” Brooke’s fingers slid off the man’s arm and he slowly pulled it towards himself, his eyes roaming over the mended appendage with approval.

“Another of my many names.” He swung his legs around the edge of the table and jumped off, lightly landing on his feet. “Come; help me find him.”

“There are still men to be tended to,” Jessica said. The hood swung in her direction.

Brooke crossed her arms over her chest. “You’ll have to wait and talk with him later; the meeting invitation still stands. Be in the war room an hour before Sun Up.” The man spun around and slunk out of the hospital.

Jessica released a breath without realizing she had been holding it. Brooke sighed and faced her. “Come on.” They headed over to another injured man. “Tell me of what happened on your mission,” Brooke said.

Jessica told her about the wolves they had seen, and walking into the city to find their home destroyed. “Your beggar friend – who is he?” Brooke asked as she wrapped a huge gash on someone’s leg. Jessica applied herbs to the adjacent patient’s arm.

She hesitated for a moment, cautiously eying the injured people around her. A woman who sat eying her quickly turned away, embarrassed for being caught eavesdropping. Jessica licked her lips almost nervously. The announcement that the heir to the throne was still alive and posing as a beggar was not one she wished to make public. Brooke, noticing her friend’s silence, turned to scrutinize her.

“Come,” Jessica said, heading toward the door. Once they were both outside, Jessica searched the streets with her eyes to make sure no one was listening. A few people lingered about the bloody streets, but many had gone home or to help at the crumbling infirmary. Satisfied no one was close enough to hear her, Jessica whispered, “Benji is the prince.”

Brooke stared at her. “What?”

“King Darfane’s son. That’s Benji.”

Brooke grabbed Jessica’s shoulders and squeezed them tightly. Her eyes seemed to pop out more than usual as she exclaimed in a strained whisper, “You were supposed to kill him!”

“I couldn’t! I can’t!”

“Jess-”

“He can’t die.”

“I can’t believe this. You’ve been killing all your life, why choose now to—”

“No, Brooke, literally, he can’t die,” Jessica replied quickly, trying to make her friend understand. “He was enchanted by a faerie at birth. Andrew and I have seen it happen – even in the battle today, he took a blow for Andrew that went clean through his body, and got up afterward.”

Brooke gaped at her. Jessica continued, “And Benji’s different from his father. He’s not what I expected. He actually agrees with what we stand for – in fact, I think he’d be useful in the resistance. The fact that he can’t die would make him a valuable asset.”

Brooke shook her head as if to clear it. “But…faeries are exiled. We’ve even recently received word that most of them have been killed off by soldiers. It seems that the king’s army is seeking out anyone capable of doing anything magical and killing them.”

“Benji was enchanted at birth. Before the ban. And so was the king – neither of them can die.” Jessica had a sudden thought. “I bet that’s why king Darfane banished the faeries and magical creatures – if faeries can bless royalty with eternal life, what would stop them from making any old beggar off the street invincible?”

Brooke released her friend’s shoulders and rubbed her face with her hands. She let out a long sigh. “We’re fighting a king that can’t die?”

Jessica didn’t answer. Despair trickled into her heart discreetly like water dripping from a tree branch. “We have Benji on our side,” she said quietly.

“Mm,” Brooke said, hiding behind her hands.

“Are we going to tell the Dane?” Jessica asked tentatively.

Brooke let her hands fall. “No,” she said. “I’ll tell him.” She looked tired now. Strained. “I need to find him first. Jess, help Andy and Benji with the rest of the injured. Dinner at sundown. Meet in the tower. We’ll talk about things later.” Jessica watched her walk away, her shadow darkening the street underneath her determined pace. Jessica ran a hand through her hair, her eyes roaming the now-empty streets illuminated by the setting sun. The air was suddenly chilly, and she shivered as she contemplated everything that had happened that day. They now knew the king was invincible. They now knew he was killing magical creatures to keep commoners from becoming indestructible. They now knew he had strange, unknown creatures in his army that were incredibly hard to kill.

The weight of hopelessness pressed down on Jessica. She suddenly felt very small and insignificant. Things were changing. Times were ending and a new era was beginning. Strange things were happening behind the walls of king Darfane’s castle. It unnerved her and made her shudder. It was like the wind of uncertainty, stirring her bones and chilling her thoughts from the inside.

Ch. 11 - The City

2009-11-10T19:42:00.000-08:00

“How do I look?”

“Like a scrawny, low-life, half-starved, no-name beggar,” Andrew responded to Benji’s question.

“Good.” Benji grinned. Jessica and Andrew had spent the last half hour ripping Benji’s clothes and covering him with dirt. No one could know this was the king’s son. There was no telling how people would react. They had decided the farthest thing from a king would be a beggar, so they had done their best to make Benji look like one. Jessica rubbed her chin, scanning Benji’s features.

His hair was now considerably darker due to the mud and dust covering his natural blonde mop. The dirt and grime over his cheekbones made his blue eyes seem brighter, but blue eyes weren’t uncommon. His pants were frayed at the bottom, and Andrew had ripped the neckline of his shirt. Jessica nodded, pleased.

“It’ll do.”

The three companions turned to survey the large city outstretched before them; they were on a large hill below which Darwol lay silently a mile away. From the looks of it, Darwol was like most of the cities in this kingdom. The walls around the gate, though still standing, were deteriorating. Shrubs and grass had claimed the piles of broken stone as their own. The towers, which had once been uniform and impressive, were now crooked and bent over. One of the towers studding the corners of the city had completely fallen over. The gate in the center of the tall, old walls had been opened, as if eager to welcome anyone foolish enough to wander into the bleak city.

As Benji, Jessica, and Andrew walked down the hall toward the city, a feeling of reality began to settle over them. For Andrew and Jessica, this was their new home. For Benji, this was horrifying. They grew closer to the city, and the road they were traveling on grew rugged and uneven. Benji glanced from the faces of his captors to the city.

He was beginning to understand. This was the life they had known. The life his father had forced upon them. The pair of friends looked weary and tired. And yet, they were relieved. There was an unspoken acceptance in the eyes of the kidnappers. Benji wondered what kind of people they were returning to, that made them find composure in this dismal place.

The trio passed through the crumbling gates. The inside of the city wasn’t any better than the outside. Houses were crammed together so tightly their roofs had become crooked, like they were being pushed by the roofs around them. Shingles and tiles littered the streets. Doors hung, half-open, in empty doorways. Some people wandered about the street, with large eyes and thin stomachs.

Benji’s eyes connected with those of a young boy’s. The boy stared at him without blinking as they passed by, then darted around a corner without saying a word. The men and women wandering the streets didn’t give the newcomers any acknowledgement; they kept about their business, whether that was finding their children or trying to buy something to eat. No one noticed the two youths with a beggar in tow wandering down the streets cluttered with broken barrels and crates.

“There’s the North Tower,” Jessica pointed out to Benji, whispering over her shoulder. He grunted in response, still gaping at the pathetic city around him. Jessica nudged Andrew with her elbow and gestured to the solitary building. Her heart was glad; she was so close to being united with the resistance. So close to being in an environment in which she could properly function. So close to what she would soon call home.

“Not much to look at. Kind of twists your tummy a bit, doesn’t it?” Benji said softly. No one answered.

A rising excitement had seized Jessica, jolting her stomach and giving her a giddy sense of expectation. She worked hard to keep her energy from spilling onto her face. They were not far now. Soon she’d see the faces of her friends, and –

Someone screamed. A bell began ringing. The sound of pots being dropped and broken reached her ears. The people meandering about suddenly began to dart through the streets. Panic gripped Jessica’s heart. Shouts echoed from the lips of one hysterical citizen to the next. A growing sound reached her ear. Horses. Hooves pounding against crooked, stone streets.
“Attack!”
“Soldiers!”
“Hide!” Various cries echoed about the frenzied streets. The hope in Jessica’s eyes died, and in its place, a fear born of confusion began to grow. For a moment, she and her friends stood completely still, shocked. The sound of horses surging around the city streets echoed dully in their ears, slightly distant and muffled. Then, as if awaking from a spell, she and Andrew dove across the street, pulling Benji behind them.

They crouched behind a row of disintegrating crates as sleek, dark shapes began streaming through the city streets. Jessica’s body was rigid as she held herself low to the ground, every muscle in her body tensed and ready. How could this be happening? They were home…everything was supposed to be made right now. A shadow fell over the three from behind the crates, and they barely had time to move before a sword came swishing through the air, splitting the boxes in half. Jessica rolled over and jumped to her feet, her dagger already flying through the air.

It lodged itself in a soldier’s chest, and he slid off his black steed with a dull “thud”. The horse reared and galloped away, nostrils flaring and hair blazing behind it like dark tongues of fire. Jessica retrieved her knife, her heart beating quickly and making the blood rush to her face.

All around her, citizens were running from the soldiers, or trying to fight them. The men on horses struck at them with spears, swords, and cutlasses. Their dark armor was painted with a red crest of arms. A sign Jessica had come to fear and hate. King Darfane’s sign. The commoners were desperately running inside the buildings closest to them, but the warriors would only follow them in and slay them where they cowered. A few brave men faced off to them with axes or knives, the only weapons they could find on such short notice.

A noise caught Jessica’s attention and she whipped around, ducking in the process. A blade sliced the empty air where her neck had been moments ago. She kicked the knee of whoever had attacked her and reached out to steal his weapon. Gripping the shaft of his spear, she twisted it hard until it was released with a yelp. Something slammed into her back, knocking her to the ground.

Jessica sprawled out on the cobblestones, the spear falling inches away from her fingertips. The sound of metal clashing against metal met her ears as she desperately crawled forward to grab the spear. As her fingers brushed the weapon, a metal boot stomped down on it. Her heart stopped beating as she fearfully glanced up to discover who the boot belonged to.

A soldier with a drawn cutlass stared down at her before raising his arm to slice her head off. A sword burst out of his chest. As quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared. The man’s weapon slipped from his fingers and he fell to his knees so quickly Jessica barely had time to move out of the way before his body toppled to the ground. When she rose, spear in hand, she found Benji panting and brandishing a bloody sword. Their eyes met, and she hoped he could read the wordless gratitude she felt.

“There’s too many!”Andrew shouted, somewhere to Jessica’s left. She turned and saw him finishing off a soldier with a short sword. He was right. The people were weak, and few. The soldiers were strong, and many. They didn’t have a chance. She frowned. More black shapes began to filter through the men and children wandering around. Those weren’t soldiers. But they carried weapons like soldiers. Her eyes studied these new arrivals as she wrestled with the panic rising in her chest.

Men dressed in black armor ran through the streets, slicing and killing with the soldiers. Jessica had never seen these men before. They looked like men, at least, though the way that they moved suggested they were animals. They crouched low to the ground, almost in a squat, before leaping up and striking their prey. They twisted their heads side to side, as if listening, and then moved quickly toward their next foe in a lolloping gait resembling a gallop. The way in which they killed their enemies sent a cold, numb feeling across Jessica’s skin. It was unnatural. Inhuman. She couldn’t catch a glimpse of their faces, for they were all angled away from her. It unnerved her.

“Jess!” a cry reached her ears. A moment later she found herself blocking the blow of one of the black-armored creatures. The spear she had been carrying was split in two by the force of the cutlass swinging down on the old wood. She stumbled back, her eyes locked on the man’s face. Only it wasn’t a man.

Two red eyes stared at her from above a hooked beak. The beak opened, revealing shark-like teeth, as it raised a shrieking war cry. It lunged forward, but she stepped aside. It shuffled toward her like a crab, swinging its cutlass the whole time. Its neck twisted and it looked at her as a bird might look at a worm before gobbling it up. She tried to scream, but the sound stuck in her throat and she could only gape at the creature before her.

Andrew was suddenly on its back, his face distorted with rage and ferocity. He stabbed his knife into the beast’s fleshy neck, and it cried out. He stabbed it again, yelling. It screeched and toppled over. Andrew jumped up and turned to Jessica.

Before he had uttered a word, the creature was back up again. “Wha—” she started to murmur, confused.

It pulled back its cutlass and struck at Andrew. Benji jumped in between the blade and the boy, pushing Andrew out of the weapon’s course of motion. The metal had found a home in Benji’s stomach, and he fell to his knees slowly, his face scrunching up in a grimace. The beast warbled a joyous cry and drew the weapon out of the boy, turning to his other victims.

Streaks of fire began to fall from the sky. Jessica glanced up quickly, curious but afraid to divert her attention from the warrior for more than a few seconds. Archers! The resistance! The heads of men and women could be seen poking up from the rooftops, their flaming arrows casting heavy shadows on their faces.

A fiery arrow landed near Andrew and Jessica, but it had missed the monster approaching them eagerly. A hand grasped the arrow’s shaft and rammed the burning tip into the skull of the beast. The creature fell, and this time it didn’t rise up again. Benji crossed his arms and eyed the carcass. “Sorry, but we can’t have two regenerating warriors running about, can we?” His voice joked but his eyes were like two stones. “Too much of a good thing can get old and all that.”

The resistance on the roof aided the fight, and almost instantly the odds were turned. There were a great number of archers; maybe seventy-five or so. The citizens on the ground took a new, fresh hope, and fought with more vigor. The king’s soldiers and the creatures in black sensed that they were fighting a losing battle. The call for retreat sounded loud, and the army withdrew from the streets like a cat retracting its claws.

The commoners let out a triumphant cry. Jessica, Andrew, and Benji joined in, raising their weapons and smiling. Jessica almost laughed to release the tension that had built up inside of her. Joy erupted on Andrew’s face, and he let out a whoop. Benji joined in, and they clapped each other on the backs like they were old friends. Jessica shook her head and smiled. She wasn’t going to try to understand them. She studied the archers on the roofs and a warm feeling spread from her heart throughout her body. This was home. These were her friends fighting beside her. It was like smelling a hot, apple pie after returning from a five-mile walk.

Ch 10 - The Nightmare

2009-10-26T19:57:00.000-07:00

Jessica breathed out her tension and breathed in the warm, night air. It had been a full day since she had last seen the wolves. They had left their new friends at the edge of the forest, and after saying goodbye, followed Benji through the long, flat meadows of the region. The terrain had begun to grow smooth and grassy. It was easy traveling from here on out, or so Benji claimed.
Jessica stared at Benji, who was sleeping a few yards away. His tousled hair was damp with sweat, sticking to his face in a comical way. His limbs were sprawled out as if he had fallen and then instantly dozed off. Andrew also was happily snoring nearby, probably deep into some blissful dream. Jessica’s attention drifted, and she found her mind re-visiting the safe house in Tosh. Melody, Max, Jacob… how many more would die because of the insane king ruling them? The king that could never die? The tyrant with an endless rule? King Darfane. She shivered at the thought of his name.

Jessica thought of the tawny-furred wolf, and Moon Shadow, and how their voices were rusting inside their throats. How many other creatures were there, hidden, afraid to show their faces...cowering in silence? So the king had ordered the exile to explain the absence of magical creatures from the land, and then chased them, murdering them. Did faeries still exist? Or were they now extinct? Had any other creatures beside the Moon wolves escaped the bloodbath? She could almost picture the soldiers slaying down unicorns and centaurs in her mind’s eye as they ran for cover. It sickened her.

Jessica ran a hand through her long, golden hair. The night was hot, and her hair was annoying and stuck to the back of her clammy neck. She began to braid it, quickly, as she thought.
Benji suddenly sat up, rubbing his eyes. He glanced around him, a bewildered look on his face. He spotted Jessica sitting across from him and blinked several times, the information that he was in the woods with his kidnappers slowly trickling through his mind. Jessica chuckled on the inside as she rummaged through the supply bag and pulled out a canteen of water.

She scooted over to him and held out the container. He eyed it suspiciously. “Drink this,” she insisted. “It’s water. It’ll help cool you down.” He slowly took the canteen and managed to gulp down some of the liquid. Realizing it was indeed water and not some kind of unusual poison, he chugged about half of what was left.

“Save some for tomorrow,” Jessica said. He guiltily lowered the dripping container and wiped a sleeve across his lips.

“Thanks,” he said. There was an awkward silence, in which Jessica found she couldn’t look at anything for more than a few seconds. Her eyes jumped everywhere except to the boy beside her.

“Nightmares,” Benji said, suddenly. She looked at him, startled.
“What?”

“Nightmares. I’ve had them since I was little,” Benji explained.

“Oh.”

“I know it’s terrible…I’m almost a grown man and I still have nightmares. No one wants a king who can’t fearlessly face up to sleep.” Benji stared at the ground, his usual grin completely vacant from his face.

Jessica was puzzled. She didn’t understand at all. Nevertheless, she felt a twinge of sympathy for him. “When I was little, I used to have nightmares every night,” she said.

The young prince examined her skeptically. “You? The fearless killer and kidnapper-”

“I’m not a kidnapper.”

“No?” Benji’s eyebrows rose inquisitively. “Oh, that’s right; you just steal into people’s homes in the middle of the night, wake them up, hold a knife to their head, and march them away, never to return.”

Jessica didn’t know if she was supposed to laugh or become irritated at that statement. “We weren’t supposed to kidnap you…”

“Then why did you?” Benji asked. He was so curious. Andrew had never asked half as many questions as Benji had in the first two days she’d known him.

“Because… it occurred to me that we could sneak out the front door if we took you with us.”

“But that wasn’t why you were there; you were there to kill me, and you didn’t. If you had killed me then, you could’ve gone back the way you came, which would have been ideal because the way you left, all my guards and soldiers saw you. I’m guessing you didn’t particularly want a whole army of men on your tails…”

Jessica realized he was right. She also realized she didn’t know why she had reacted the way she did that night, however, she refused to let her confusion show. “It doesn’t matter; you can’t die anyway. You’d be very good in the resistance,” she told the prince. They said nothing for a few minutes. Jessica studied the stars, painfully aware of the nagging silence engulfing them.

“Just out of curiosity,” Benji began, “What would you have done once you had killed me?”

“The resistance would take over. We already had the next leader picked out.”

“That’s tyranny.”

“We’d turn it into a democracy.” Jessica stood up. “You don’t understand how the world works. We are the people. We roam the streets. We go hungry. We suffer. We fight. We know what it is to be a subject to a king who is distant – who doesn’t care. With one of us in charge, the kingdom would change for good.” Jessica crossed her arms over her chest. Her voice had remained level and she was quite calm, although she had to admit she was a tad bit frustrated.

Benji stood up, too, but his arms were spread out as if to portray his innocence. “How do you know I wouldn’t have changed things for good? I’m not my father.”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “People on the streets are dying, Benji. We’re not going to sit around and wait for the king to die and you to take over.”

Andrew let out a small shout and sat up. “The leaf monster is licking my toe!” he said loudly. Jessica and Benji sharply turned to give him amused looks. He slumped back over, fast asleep.

Jessica grinned. “He has always talked in his sleep,” she explained, gazing at his snoring form. Benji tilted his head to the side.

“Are you siblings?”

“What?”

“You and Andy.”

Jessica let out a chuckle. “No, but just about. We grew up together. In the resistance. There wasn’t anyone else our age in our league to play with, so we entertained each other.”

“In your league?” Benji repeated. “How many leagues of the resistance are there?”

“A lot. They’re all over the kingdom. Almost every city has their own.”

“That is a lot,” Benji said. He sat back down abruptly, rocking slightly to absorb the impact.

“That might be enough for a small army.”

Jessica said nothing. It was enough for a small army. The Dane had sometimes talked of uniting all their forces and openly retaliating against the king’s army. For some reason or another, they never had. Jessica sighed and sat down.

Benji’s blue eyes roamed over her face. Her mind was like a new book, and he was eager to peek inside her pages and read her. “What exactly is the resistance?” he asked.

“We’re an organization…a group of people. We help others. The citizens. Those who can’t help themselves.” Jessica searched for words to describe what she had come to know and accept as her way of living. “You know how your father, King Darfane, believes that those who can’t pay their taxes should be executed? Or those who speak against him? Or those who have been associated with magic-users?”

Jessica pulled her knees up to her chest. Her face was turned toward the trees in front of her, her eyes glazed over. “Have you ever seen one of them die?”

Benji didn’t reply. She looked at him, for now it was her turn to study his face. After a moment, she continued, “Your father would sentence men and women to death as easily as he would dispose of an old garment, but he’d never show up to watch them hang to death.” She turned to stare at the trees again. “He’s never seen them twitching and gurgling while they dangle from the noose. Because they couldn’t make enough money. Because they stole to feed their families. Because they didn’t agree with your father.”

Benji didn’t say anything; he only listened silently to what Jessica had to say. “The agents of the resistance are trying to put a stop to all this,” she continued. “If a spy gets word of a prisoner being held at a location near us, we break them out. We take in the families whose fathers have been killed. Do you remember when one of your stables caught on fire and the king’s men couldn’t travel the country for at least a week?”

Benji stared at her. “That was us,” she said, proudly. He rubbed a hand over his cheek and rested it underneath his chin, contemplatively.

“And you’ve killed before?”

The question seemed out of place in their conversation. “Yes,” Jessica replied, “I’ve fought in raids and battles. Every time the soldiers come to take taxes, riots break out.”

“How many?”

“What?”

“How many men have you killed?” he asked in all seriousness. Who was this boy who could laugh about death one moment and then keep a straight face the next?

“Benji, I’ve fought in many battles…I’ve been fighting since I was eight. You don’t expect me to remember how many men I’ve killed, do you?” Jessica replied.

“You don’t remember any of them?” Benji asked. She tried to read his expression. Innocent. Naïve. Curious. Sincere. He wouldn’t understand.

“Have you ever killed anyone?” she asked.

“No. I mean, not if you don’t count me,” Benji said, allowing a small smile to slip onto his face.

“I’ve tried to kill myself…just to test it out. See how good the fairies’ magic works. They mean what they say.”

Jessica shook her head. “So there’s really no way to kill you?”

Benji’s lips rolled over his teeth. “Not that I know of…” His eyes turned to examine the sky

Jessica seemed so captivated with. “Once we get to Darwol… you’re not going to let me go, are you?”

Jessica swallowed and wondered how she should answer. It was an issue she and Andrew had talked about before, when they had switched guard and Benji was sleeping. It wasn’t like they could just let him go…he already knew too much about the resistance. If he went back to his father, they would be ruined. On the other hand, it wasn’t as if they could kill him either… they still hadn’t decided what to do. There was no easy way to answer his question.

She didn’t have to. “What would you say if I told you I wanted to join the resistance?” Benji asked.

Jessica looked at him sharply. A hopeful smile decorated his face. She bit her bottom lip and her eyes narrowed. “Hm…I’d say that’s a difficult subject to discuss,” Jessica replied.

“Really?” Benji asked.

“Yes,” she responded.

“I have something to tell you.”

“What?”

Benji’s face was almost completely serious. “I think I want to join the resistance.”

“That’s a difficult subject to discuss.”

“I had a feeling you would say that.”

“Really? What brought this on?” Jessica asked, trying to act surprised.

“Well, there’s this boy and this girl that I met—”

“Relatives?”

“Possibly cousins once removed. Or long-lost twins that look nothing alike.”

“I see.”

“Anyway, they have grown on me in the past few days--”

“Grown on you? What do you mean?” she asked, curious as well as eager to poke fun at him.

“Well, they are the first people I’ve met that seem to have an actual purpose to their lives. And they stand for everything I seem to stand for…and, frankly, I don’t want to go back to my father. It’s like they took me out of a prison I couldn’t seem to escape from and now I have the chance to fight against it.”

“You want to fight against a prison?”

“And free the people I have hurt…” he sighed. “It seems my father has done a lot of damage in this kingdom…maybe I can help to fix it.”

Jessica considered the suggestion he made. “Hm…” she said out loud. “You do realize if you become an agent of the resistance, you’ll be a no-name commoner and not the king’s son?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he insisted.

“And you’ll have to learn to fight.”

He smirked. “Don’t worry. I once pinned an agent who was sent to kill me against the wall.”

Jessica felt her face get red. She stood suddenly, defensive. “Maybe the agent wasn’t expecting her target to be awake while she was trying to assassinate him.”

“Then obviously that agent has never tried to assassinate a target with nightmares.” He rose, too. Smugness shone on his face.

“Maybe that’s because the agent was used to killing battle-hardened men, not boys afraid of sleep,” she spat back.

“Ouch,” Benji said, placing a hand over his heart as if wounded. She would have regretted it, if he was genuinely hurt, but the trace of a smirk lingered about his lips.

Jessica crossed her arms, her smarting pride solaced a bit by the fact that he had no reply to her retort. “Go to sleep, nightmare prince.”

Benji smiled slightly. He didn’t act as if she had just outdone him. “You’d better wake your twin to switch turns watching. You’re both going to need energy if we’re to reach Darwol by morning.”

“Goodnight, Benji,” she hissed. It was more of a command for him to sit down and sleep than a cordial farewell.

He did as she implied with a cheerful, “Goodnight, Jess,” and then rolled over in the grass.

Jessica’s eyes upturned to the stars. They stared down at her, twinkling and winking as if nothing in the world had ever gone wrong. She woke Andrew shortly and then lay down to try to get some sleep. It was almost impossible. Her mind couldn’t settle down. Her thoughts jumped from her dead friends to her live ones waiting for her at Darwol; the story of the wolves, to Benji and Andrew … It was like trying to bottle the fury of a hurricane.

Ch. 9 - The Tale

2009-10-17T15:47:00.000-07:00

The wolves surrounding the travelers in a cluster led them through the shadowed woods. Dusk was falling over the trees, and fatigue from their journey began to set in. Moon Shadow began speaking, and the more he spoke, the more his voice changed from rasping and coarse to sinuous and smooth. It was almost like he was out of practice, and now his voice was growing accustomed to the words flowing through his mouth.

“It started two years ago,” he began. “We had lived among the two-legs for as long as we could remember. We had houses, wives, and children. Then one day things changed. The king banished us, and those like us – other beasts, creatures….some humans – anyone capable of doing magic. We were cast out by those we had lived with. Thrown aside like old garments; only useless items that gave pleasure for a while, and then ceased to have purpose.” Emotion entered his low growl, and sadness tinged his words like a thread cleverly woven into a tapestry.

“We formed packs and clans. Soon we were together so often, we stopped changing into two-legs; we simply retained our wolf bodies. I don’t understand why. Perhaps since we left the company of the earth children, we ceased to remember what it was like to become them. We ceased to have a use for words, when we could so easily speak in the tongue of wolves.”

Jessica placed her hand gently on the top of the tawny-furred wolf she had seen earlier. It swiveled its head around to look at her, and she saw the same sad look in its eyes that she remembered seeing earlier. “What words it must want to say,” Jessica thought to herself, stroking its light fur and rubbing the smooth skin of its ears.

Benji tilted his head to one side and asked thoughtfully, “How can you speak when all the others can’t?”

Moon Shadow ducked under a low branch, his dog-like body slinking under it gracefully like a rippling stream of black water. “I didn’t want to forget. One day I remembered it had been very long since I had uttered words in the tongue of the two-legs. I was afraid I, too, would forget. So I spent long nights by myself, fighting in my mind to remember how to speak. The others laughed at me…”

The tawny wolf beside Jessica whimpered. She stroked its fur comfortingly. Moon Shadow stared at the roots poking up through the ground, his paws dragging slightly. “It’s strange…how quickly one can forget oneself…” he trailed off in a voice suddenly weary and tired.

Andrew studied the wolf. He asked softly, “Did you have a family?”

Moon Shadow didn’t look at Andrew. “I had a wife, and a son.”

Jessica caught the wistfulness in his tone. She asked, “What happened to them?”

The wolf shook his head. “I don’t know. We lost each other in the first massacre.”

“The first what?” Benji asked.

Swiveling his head to stare at the boy, Moon Shadow repeated, “The first killing.” He saw the confusion in the youngster’s face. “You don’t know? After we were exiled, they sent men to comb the forests and kill the creatures they found. Exile was just an excuse to get us out of the city so the two-legs wouldn’t see the blood baths.”

“What?” Benji stammered, his lips parting in confusion. “I’ve never heard that before.”

“It is truth,” the wolf replied. “It happens all around. The ongoing battle. The king was afraid that those who had magic on their side would revolt against him. He sought to kill us all. It is a war we fight even now. Soldiers still raid the woods sometimes. We have learned to hide. To melt into the shadows of the trees; to seek shelter in the underbrush that cloaks our paws.”

Andrew spoke with determination. “We will make you free again,” he pledged. There was a passion in his eyes that no one dared to challenge.

“Many thanks to you, child of the earth,” Moon Wolf replied. “We are in your debt.”

Emerging from the trees, they found themselves in a small clearing with few bushes and a few misplaced boulders. The wolves sat down in a large circle in the grass, winding their tails around their folded legs. Moon Shadow turned to the travelers.

“If you wish, you may rest here tonight. We will watch for unwelcome visitors and fight them, should they threaten you. You are friends and we will not harm you; but foolish are the enemies of the Moon Wolves,” he said, his deep voice rumbling in the silent forest.

Jessica’s eyes averted to gaze at the darkened skies. The sun had set a while ago; she must have been too distracted by Moon Shadow’s story to notice. Benji rubbed his eyes sleepily and suppressed a yawn. Jessica felt a tinge of pity for him; after all, he was just a prince. He wasn’t used to traveling two days straight.

“Thank you,” Andrew said. “You have been very kind. We won’t forget what you have done for us.” Hesitantly at first, the three travelers sat down in a triangle inside the wolf circle. They passed around apples and small pieces of bread from the supply bag salvaged from the safe house. Then the three travelers sprawled out across the ground to sleep. Jessica let out a sigh and lay down on her back, stretching her legs out in front of her and interlacing her fingers behind her head.

A few minutes later, the boys’ snoring could be heard rumbling into the forest. Jessica sat up and looked around, sleep evading her. Moon Shadow could be seen across the clearing, perched on a boulder with the lonely moon behind him. Jessica rose to her feet and silently walked through the cold grass until she arrived a few feet away from the rock he sat upon regally like a king on his throne.

He hadn’t turned around, but he said softly, “What troubles you, earth-child?”

Jessica hesitantly walked around the massive rock and climbed up to sit beside the dark wolf. She peeked into his large, furry face. His keen eyes stared ahead of him, alert and aware. The vigilant protector. Jessica pulled her knees up to her chest, suddenly feeling like a little child perched next to a king.

“When we got to the city…” she began softly, “Everyone was dead.” Moon Shadow didn’t turn to look at her. She swallowed, fighting the urge to cry. She hated crying. Tears were for the weak. Yet now, when the moon was out and all was dark and still, she didn’t feel very strong at all.

“We got there…I opened the door to the safe house…and they were all gone.” She closed her eyes, fighting a wave of tears. When she had wrestled the tightening emotion in her chest into submission, she continued, “I feel like if I had gotten there sooner, I could’ve changed that. I don’t know why the soldiers killed them, but somehow it seems like if I had been there when the soldiers attacked, they would still be alive.”

She lowered her head and rested it on top of her knees. “Now I can only picture them lifeless…dead…” Jessica tightly closed her eyes and focused on breathing. She was not weak. She would not give into despair.

Moon Shadow’s response didn’t soothe her raging emotions. But at the same time he had comforted her just a little by simply listening. “It was not your fault your friends died,” he said, eyes locked ahead. “The men you speak of have been killing the cities since last moonrise. The king has heard talk of revolt. He requested help of the creatures…”

“The creatures?” Jessica repeated, mystified.

“You have not seen them?”

Jessica shook her head.

“They have joined his army. They feast on flesh…they grow from our death…” Moon Shadow’s tail twitched.

“What creatures?”

“We do not have a name for such beasts,” Moon Shadow replied. “They use our bodies as their houses. They come from sorcerers. Dark Arts. The king surely had no control over them.” The wolf’s eyes narrowed, as if in warning. “I believe they are using him because he needs their help for a while…but then they will kill him like a horse with a disease. They’ll ride him for a while, and when they have gotten all they can, such as an empty kingdom, they’ll dispose of him.”

“An empty kingdom?”

“To build their own.”

Jessica’s eyes widened. They would use his armies to kill all the people in the kingdom…and then they would take over. “A world of blackness…” she whispered. That in and of itself was terrifying.

For the first time, Moon Shadow looked at her. “There is still hope.”

“How?”

“He hasn’t taken over completely. The throne could be overthrown. The creatures may have a weakness. There has been talk of a king yet-to-come – a king long prophesied ago that would come and rule with justice and peace.”

Jessica let out a breath of air. “That’s a lot of possibilities…not a lot of certainty.”

“But it is hope.” Moon Shadow tilted his head almost thoughtfully. “Hope is not always certain, but it is always possible. There is always hope.”

Jessica rubbed her eyes. Moon Shadow turned his attention back to studying the woods. “Get some rest, child of the earth.” She didn’t have the energy to protest. It felt like the weight of the day was now resting on her, and she wearily said goodnight and crawled into the protective circle of the wolves. She cast one last glance at the regal wolf before lying down on her back.

She stared at the stars decorating the sky like jewels on a black crown, her thoughts beginning to blur with fatigue. Something plopped down next to her. Opening her eyes, she found the tawny-furred wolf resting next to her.

Jessica smiled to herself and stroked the wolf distractedly. It yawned, and she got a fresh whiff of doggy-breath. The creature rested its head on its paws peacefully, and Jessica realized how incredibly safe she felt sleeping amongst the wolves. It was strange to think about. Maybe even ironic. She didn’t want to think of how or why; she was too tired. Closing her eyes again, she soon felt herself falling into her dreams. And so the hunted slept with their hunters as if they were a family.

Ch. 8 - The Wolves

2009-10-05T19:30:00.000-07:00

Jessica could hear the creatures in the woods around her as she darted through the trees. The beast she had seen looked an awful lot like a wolf, only it was larger – maybe the size of a bear. Its yellow eyes and blade-like teeth impressed themselves on her mind, urging her legs to run faster. Andrew was a little bit behind her, and she dared to glance back at him. Five wolves were at his heels. Their jaws were open, revealing terrible fangs ready to devour her friend. Their long, dog-like faces were pulled tight in desperation, their tongues lolling out in front of them and drool dribbling down their fur. They looked hungry.

“Come on!” Jessica urged Andrew as she stooped to pick up a rock. She spun around, took aim, and hurled it at one of the beasts’ heads. Without looking back, she continued running, listening for the yelp of pain soon to follow her action.

Andrew soon caught up to Jessica. “Faster!” he shouted. Jessica could hear them behind her. Their howls grew ever closer. She could hear their clawed feet tearing the earth underneath them. “Don’t look back!” Andrew commanded.

Her heart was beating too quickly, and her legs weren’t moving nearly as fast as she wanted them to. Andrew began to pull in front of her. Jessica struggled to keep up. The roots and bushes at her feet made her focus constantly on the ground beneath her, and she had trouble weaving in between the trees as quickly as the boys.

“Come on!” Benji yelled, from up ahead. Jessica’s lungs constricted. She wasn’t getting enough air inside her. Her legs started aching, but she kept on running. She could almost smell the wolves’ breath behind her. She could almost hear them snapping at her heels and missing. Jessica gasped and wheezed, begging her legs to keep running.

She hadn’t let go of her dagger, but she refused to throw it and waste a weapon. Something zipped past her right ear. A wolf howled behind her. Andrew was throwing rocks at the brutes like Jessica had done. She could hardly see him; he was so far ahead of her. Another rock rushed past her and felled a wolf, hitting it squarely in the face.

There were still three wolves following them. Jessica’s legs felt as if they could run no more. A low growl behind her suggested a particularly speedy wolf was moments away from its meal. A hand grabbed hers and jerked her sharply to the right, so hard that she stumbled.

“Run, Jess!” Andrew said, pulling her behind him. She felt like she was suffocating. Her legs were sore and stretched. She didn’t remember how long ago she had started running, but surely she had been at it for hours and hours.

“Come on, Jess, don’t give up. Come on! Faster!” Andrew urged. He continued to drag her along, yanking her arm so hard she felt like he would rip it off her body.

“I. Can’t,” she panted. Something sharp bit into her ankle. With a shriek, she toppled to the ground, face-first. Something heavy landed on her back, and it felt like crude nails were being pressed into her shoulder blades. She screamed, rolled over, and punched upwards.
Her fist sank into something fleshy and soft. Blinking, she found herself staring into a hungry wolf face.

Andrew beat the creature’s side with his hands, and it offered a growl before sliding off of Jessica. A mass of mud-colored fur jumped on Andrew’s back, pinning him against the earth. Benji tacked the creature, knocking it off Andrew. It flipped over, whimpering, and ran into the nearest bush. A growl to Jessica’s right startled her.

Jessica sat up, gasping for breath. The sight before her sent her heart into panic mode. This wolf walked slowly toward her. Its fur was black, and it met her gaze with unblinking, golden eyes. Its mouth was pulled back in a snarl and its tail impatiently beat the ground behind it, as if it was eagerly anticipating something. It was tall, rising a whole head above Jessica, and its body was covered with dark fur. Its dog-like ears flattened and it let out a blood-curling yowl. Then, it opened its mouth and spoke. Its voice was like metal spikes dragging across blocks of granite.

“Cease!” it commanded the wolves accumulating in the shrubs. They peeked out at the trio through narrowed eyes, yapping their jaws and snapping dangerously. It was apparent they were exercising an immense amount of self-control to keep from attacking their dinner.

“Two-legs of the earth,” it rasped, “Long has it been since your kind has crossed the trees of the Moon Wolves. Why have you come?”

Andrew, Jessica, and Benji drew close to one another and stared at the wolf. It waited patiently, though they could plainly see the hunger in its tinted eyes. “Someone speak…say something,” Jessica tried to say, but the words didn’t rise past her throat.

Andrew said in an uneven voice, “We travel to the city Darwol.”

The wolf growled and paced like a dog, its eyes never leaving the companions. “What do you seek there?”

“Our friends wait for us there,” Andrew said. His eyes flickered between the wolf leader and the wolves surrounding them in the bushes. Jessica wondered how long the wolves would obey their chief’s authority before they lost their self control. Her flustered heart and the leaves rustling under hairy paws were the only sounds she could hear.

The black wolf lowered his tail to the ground and sat, staring up at them curiously. “The only other two-legs to have traveled through these woods of late are friends with the Moon Wolves.”

“You’ve seen them?” Andrew asked anxiously. “A tall man and a woman with dark skin?”

The wolf’s tail swished back and forth on the ground, leaving a clean spot where it had brushed away all the leaves. “They passed through not two days ago. They are the friends you seek?”
Andrew nodded.

The wolf rose up on its haunches and resumed pacing, squinting at them curiously. “I see the truth in your eyes,” it stated in its harsh voice. “The ones you speak of are friends. They fight those who have forced us into these woods. I remember the days when we were free to roam like the birds in the air. How things have changed,” it murmured, its eyes staring past the young humans before it.
Focusing on them a moment later, it pledged, “We will let you safely pass as long as you give us your word that you will do all in your power to make us free.”

Andrew, about to accept the wolf’s offer, was interrupted quickly by Benji, who stepped forward and questioned, “Make you free? You just tried to eat us – why should we try to free you?”

Jessica gaped at Benji. Andrew whispered, “Benji, when the flesh-eating wolves offer to let you pass through their forest alive, don’t question their motives, just do it!”

“Eat you?” the wolf repeated, staring at the bold young man. A grin spread across its face, making its thin lips part and expose needle-sharp teeth. It barked out a laugh, and the other wolves joined in. Its eyes lost their hungry look, replaced by amusement. “No, young two-legs. We do not eat children of the earth.”

Andrew turned from berating Benji with a bewildered look. “What?” he asked.

The wolf grinned again. “We eat that which grows from the ground. Blood is bitter to us.”

Andrew placed a hand on his hip. “Then would you mind explaining to me why your pack was after me and my friends?”

The wolf lowered itself to the ground, sitting yet again and wrapping its tail around its legs. “To run. To chase. Do we not all need something to chase after?” As he spoke, the wolves burst through the trees as if an unheard signal had been given. Before Jessica realized what was happening, a tawny-furred wolf licked her hand and rubbed its face against her palm. Another large wolf wound itself around her legs. Teeth snapped in a wolfish laugh as one of the beasts ran around her in a circle, energetically jumping and growling enthusiastically.

She wonderingly glanced up to see Benji ruffling the fur of a few wolves nearby the way one would play with a household pet. Andrew gasped as a wolf knocked him over, pinned him down, and smothered him with licks. “Ugh,” he muttered. Jessica giggled. She glanced down at the gentle dogs pressing against her. Tentatively, she reached down and stroked one’s fur. It tickled the skin on her fingers, but its texture was thick and soft.

She peeked up at the black wolf, who watched the trio with careful, calculating eyes. She took a deep breath and then ventured to ask, “What is your name?”

“The two-legs called me Moon Shadow,” he said, his raspy voice less threatening now.
Jessica rubbed the ear of a different wolf, grinning as it crouched down and wagged its tail in pleasure. “Do you all have names?” she asked the wolves. They didn’t reply. The tawny-furred one sat down and looked at her, a trace of remorse evident in its yellow eyes. Confused, Jessica glanced up at Moon Shadow.

His tail twitched. “They have forgotten their names. They have lost their voices.”

Jessica observed the wolves moving around her. They were very beautiful, and kind, and strong. Their lean bodies were graceful and powerful at the same time. They terrified her and made her want to dance at the same time. How could they have no voice?

“How did this happen?” Benji asked, his face reflecting the sadness he felt for his new, four-legged friends.

The wolf rose and began walking. “I know the path you must travel. Follow me and I will lead you to the edge of our forest. I will tell you the tale of the Moon Wolves.”

Jessica, Benji, and Andrew followed the black wolf, their hearts aching for the silent creatures encircling them. Jessica realized the pain in her foot was nothing more than a sharp rock she had tripped over. Limping slightly, she swallowed a lump in her throat. The wolves wrestled each other as they walked, then remembered their guests and returned to smother them with affection. Their attitudes were playful and happy, but in their eyes a profound sorrow was held. It was like staring at the sun while it rained.

Ch. 7 - The Woods

2009-09-20T12:51:00.000-07:00

Jessica watched the young prince inconspicuously as he led them through some trees. Last night they’d left Tosh after getting some fresh clothes for Benji in one of the ransacked shops. They had agreed that Benji would lead them around major cities until they found a better disguise for him than just new clothes. Hopefully they would escape detection until they arrived at Darwol where they’d join up with the resistance.

Jessica’s lips flipped up at the edges in amusement as she watched Benji move sluggishly through the trees. Andrew had helped him to find some clothes to replace his blood-stained sleepwear. The shirt and jacket they had found were entirely too big for the boy. Although Benji had broad shoulders and a wider body build than Andrew, he was rather thin. His arms were toned, true, but there was not a lot of mass on him. The new attire hung off his shoulders and bunched over his belt, reminding Jessica of how she imagined a pillowcase would look had it been fashioned into a shirt. He wore trousers that cut off slightly below the knee, and they were so big even the belt didn’t stop him from having to pull them up every few steps.

Andrew trailed behind Benji with Jessica, and he swapped curious glances with her. “How long do you think he’ll last without sleep?” he asked. They had walked all through the night and well into the morning of the next day, never stopping and not eating. Benji was in front of them and they couldn’t see his face, but surely his eyes were closing with fatigue.

At that moment, Benji glanced over his shoulder and shot them both a grin. “Come on you two; we’ll never get anywhere moving at the pace of a paralyzed snail.” He turned around again and continued weaving through the widely-dispersed trees.

Jessica shot Andrew an incredulous expression. They both skipped a few steps and walked on either side of him. “Didn’t they teach you manners and social graces in the palace?” Jessica asked. Benji blinked down at her, a hint of glee peeking out of his bright blue eyes.

“Not at all. That’s what they teach the young ladies of the court.” Benji’s eyes returned to scouting the path ahead of them. “We didn’t have any of those.”

Jessica quickly asked, “If they don’t teach you how not to be annoying, what do they teach you?”

Benji stepped over a log without looking at it. He made a face that suggested he was trying to remember something. Jessica and Andrew stayed beside him, studying him closely like they would behold a strange bug. “Fencing…geography…writing…reading…certain fight techniques…folklore and ancient mythology.”

Andrew’s nose wrinkled seemingly of its own accord. “That sounds like murder by parchment. You’d never get me to do any of that.”

Benji sighed. “Wasn’t as if I had a choice. My mother had always wished that her son be well-educated. When she died, my father made sure that her wishes were carried out.”

The group fell into silence, for no one had anything to say to that. The path Benji created for them grew laden with trees and woods, and Jessica found they were soon so deeply submerged in a forest that she could hardly see the sky. Shade and shadow clung to the roots of ancient plants, cloaking portions of the forest floor in darkness. Damp leaves and grass on the ground muffled their footsteps, creating almost a blanket of silence that suffocated the woods.

As they continued, Jessica began to have an uneasy feeling. It was the feeling she got when she knew something was wrong. It was the feeling she got when she was being watched by hidden pairs of eyes. Jessica licked her lips nervously, her eyes scanning the bushes and shrubs for anything treacherous.

There were no animals or birds in this wood. Nothing broke the suffocating silence except for the three companions. It was like the whole forest was holding its breath. Andrew coughed behind her. The sound made her jump, and she whipped her head around to shoot him an irritated glare.

Benji turned to scrutinize them in the shady light. “You two alright back there?”

Jessica winced at his voice’s volume. In a softer tone, she stated, “I don’t like it here.”

Benji glanced around, not a lick of fear on his naïve expression. “Nothing to be afraid of here. No nasty beasts or fanciful creatures. At least, none that I’ve ever read about.”

Andrew blinked. “You mean to tell me that just because your palace scrolls didn’t mention any faeries or unicorns, you think these woods are entirely safe?”

Benji rubbed a hand over his chin, his eyes suddenly reproachful. “Well now that you mention it, maybe these woods aren’t entirely safe… I suppose with all the trees around we’d be more likely to get struck by lightning should it rain…”

The boys’ voices echoed in the empty wood, causing Jessica to grow more edgy and aware in case someone or something was listening. “How long will it take to get to Darwol?” Andrew was saying.

“No more than three days,” Benji promised. He studied the trees around him for a moment, and then made a continued walking, slightly to the left.

“Does anyone even travel this way anymore?” Andrew asked.

“You wanted the back routes; I’m giving you the back routes. No cities until we reach Darwol,” Benji stated. “Now stop complaining; that never got anyone anywhere.”

“I’m starting to wonder if you ever got anyone anywhere,” Andrew muttered. Jessica would have been amused at their banter, but she had long since stopped listening. Her gaze hadn’t wavered from studying a shadow blocking their path a few yards ahead.

“Guys,” Jessica almost whispered. They stopped, watched her, and then followed her gaze. The shadow moved. Jessica blinked. It was gone. Were her eyes playing tricks on her? “Did you two see a dog…?” she asked uncertainly.

Benji shook his head. “No.” He began moving again. Andrew stared at Jessica, whose eyes were still trained on the path of forest floor where she could have sworn she saw—

“Jess, are you feeling ok?” he asked, concerned.

“I’m fine…” she lied. “I guess I’m just tired…” Andrew wasn’t convinced but he made no other comment and wordlessly followed Benji. Maybe she was losing her mind. An edgy feeling made her peer over her shoulder occasionally. Was that a twig snapping she heard? How annoying…first her eyes mock her, and now her ears.

A flurry of motion to her right made her stop and gaze into the large, thorny bushes there. And then it was still. Her pulse quickened and her fingers nervously twisted one of her rings.

“Did you see that-” she began to ask, and then stopped herself. There was nothing in the bushes. The shadows were still. Obviously she was tired and imagining things. Her mind didn’t reassure her racing heart. The silence in the forest pressed down on them, convincing her that everything
was all right.

“Jess…” Andrew said, his tone a mixture of warning and concern. He stared at Jessica’s face and took a step toward her. Something large, furry, and in possession of large, dangerous fangs leapt out of the shrubbery and slammed into Andrew. Jessica gaped at the sheer mass of the creature before throwing herself on the beast and beating upon its back.

The creature snarled and lashed out at her. She jumped back, desperately fumbling for her closest knife. It leapt up at her, and for a terrifying second all she could see were rows of teeth and large claws preparing to slice down at her. Something barreled into its side, knocking it over. Benji had appeared, and Andrew was instantly at his side, armed with a dagger. The beast let out a horrifying yowl that echoed around the forest. It rolled onto its feet and melted into forest, whimpering and leaving the three panting and utterly confused.

As one, several shrieks and howls answered the beast’s cry, coming from all sides of the woods. Jessica’s heart almost stopped beating. Andrew, Benji, and Jessica stared at each other for what seemed like ages, each one of them wondering what had just happened.

“Follow me!” Benji shouted, suddenly running away from where the creature had disappeared. Without question, Jessica and Andrew sprinted after him, casting mistrustful glances at the shadows around them. It was like the forest’s one goal was to eliminate everyone trapped inside its wooden jaws.

Ch. 6 - The Decision

2009-09-07T16:01:00.000-07:00

Andrew yelled in rage and shoved his dagger into Benji’s chest…again. Benji blinked and looked down at the knife in his chest. He looked back up at Andrew. “Do you often lose your temper and feel the need to stab people?”

Andrew yanked the blade from the boy’s body and took several steps back. He stared at his dripping knife, a confused look decorating his tanned features. His eyebrows grew closer together in determination and he stabbed Benji again. Benji closed his eyes and grew still. Andrew stared at him, waiting. Benji’s eyes popped open and he grinned. “Nope, still here.”

Andrew let out a small shout and dropped his blade. He jumped backward and began looking for something on the ground. Jessica stared at Benji, utterly at a loss for words. Benji looked at her with a simplistic expression. “I can’t die, you know.”

Jessica’s mind began working again and she asked incredulously, “You're immortal?”

She was interrupted as Andrew approached Benji with a sword and thrust it through the prince’s stomach. Benji squeezed his eyes shut. He was silent for a few moments before opening his eyes to shoot Andrew an annoyed look. “You know,” he started, “That’s really uncomfortable.” Andrew turned to look at Jessica, wonder displayed on his face. “What’s the matter with you two?” Benji asked, with the sword still lodged inside his body. “Never seen an enchanted prince before?”

“How did this happen?” Jessica asked.

“My mother thought it would be a good idea to have the heir to the throne immortalized…and of course, my father couldn’t pass up such an offer either,” Benji explained. “Mother knew some faeries…I’m not sure how. But she got one of them to bless me with the gift of regeneration.”
Jessica couldn’t help but roll her eyes at this statement. Andrew had yanked the sword out of Benji and was looking for another weapon from among the many things scattered about the ransacked room. A clang sounded from where he moved a shield out of his way.

Jessica’s eyes narrowed challengingly and she told Benji, “That’s ridiculous. Everyone knows that years ago the king banished all magical creatures from the kingdom.”

“Yes, but my mother had me enchanted when I was born, before the banishment took effect.” Benji asked. His eyes were focused on something behind her. “Oh, that’s going to hurt…” Benji muttered. Andrew was approaching him with a four-foot spear. Jessica stood up quickly and jumped in front of her determined friend.

“Andy, he can’t die. Just give it a rest, ok?”

Andrew shook his head. “There’s got to be a way he does it. Something absorbing the metal…or…I don’t know…under armor.”

Benji made a sarcastic face. “Yes, Andrew, I happen to be wearing several sheets of metal beneath my cloth nightshirt. I always sleep with them on.”

Jessica’s lips twitched into a grin. Benji continued, “And just because the creatures have been banished doesn’t mean they don’t reside here anyway, secretly.”

“That doesn’t seem possible; someone would have seen them by now,” Jessica thought out loud.

“They’re sneakier than you’d think,” Benji said. “I once found a brownie sneaking nuts out of the palace kitchen.” He winced. “Excuse me, I didn’t mean to say brownie.”

Jessica frowned. “What’s wrong with saying brownie?”

“It’s a derogative term. The polite name for them is ‘fairy half-breeds’,” Benji explained. “The sprites made up the name ‘brownie’ because of the half-breeds’ skin color. It’s not a very nice thing to call them.”

Jessica and Andrew exchanged worried glanced. “I expect the brownie told you that?” Andrew questioned.

“Fairy half-breed,” Benji corrected.

Andrew set down the spear and crossed his arms. “Jess, what are we going to do with a crazy prince who can’t die?” he asked. Jessica bit her lip, her mind still a bit numb from shock and refusing to think properly.

Andrew snapped his fingers. “I got it. We could slice him up into tiny pieces and put those pieces in tiny boxes, and—”

“I know where Darwol is…where you need to meet your leader fellow. I could take you there,” Benji claimed.

“How do you know where Darwol is?” Andrew asked suspiciously.

“I’m a prince. I studied maps. I have half of our country memorized.”

“And if you murder us in our sleep?”

Benji smiled. “Then you’ll be dead, so it won’t matter.”

Jessica rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Andy, we could take turns keeping watch at night.”

Benji nodded vigorously. “Great idea, Jess, great idea.”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed. “What happens when we get to Darwol?”

“We go our separate ways…you let me live without unnecessary pain, and you go on saving the kingdom from whatever it is you save it from.” Benji suggested.

Andrew’s suspicion hadn’t lessened. “And what’s to stop you from killing us if we let you go?”

Benji made a face that reminded Jessica of a wounded animal. “Look at me. Do I look like the kind of person who would hold a grudge? Andy, that hurts. I’m a very forgiving person.”

Andrew scowled. “I say we leave him here.”

Jessica sighed. “Andy, we have to get to Darwol somehow…right now, he’s our best option.”

Benji inclined his head Jessica’s way. “This girl is full of good ideas. You should listen to her more often.”

Andrew gave him a dirty look. Benji’s sky blue eyes seemed so sincere…Jessica turned toward Andrew, seeking his decision. The boy’s hand ran through his hair and he let out a long sigh. “Fine, but if he tries anything, I’m tying him to a tree.”

Benji grinned. “Good. Now that that’s settled, will someone please untie me? And would it be too much to ask for new clothes? Andy got my blood all over these…”

Jessica began working on the rope binding the captive to the chair, her fingers strangely weak and feeble. “Oh, and one more thing,” Benji voice chirped from in front of her. “I would like to be treated as an equal. No more of this captive stuff. If I’m to lead you around, I’d prefer to be treated well. At least as well as guides are treated. No more ‘shut up’ and ‘walk faster’.”

“Fine,” Jessica mumbled, untying the last length of rope. Benji sat up and stretched. A popping noise accompanied him flexing his back. Andrew emerged from a room he had disappeared into, bearing a bag bulging in the middle.

“Supplies,” he explained.

Benji looked over the destroyed room and then at the two young faces turned toward his. “Now then…to Darwol it is.” They set out through the door, and Jessica couldn’t help but look back. It was like leaving your home without knowing if you’d be able to find another.

Ch. 5 - The Safehouse

2009-08-24T16:39:00.000-07:00

“By the stars,” Jessica whispered, somewhere to Benji’s left.

“What? What is it?” Benji asked, swiveling his head as if trying to see through his blindfold.

“What happened here?” Andrew wondered aloud, his voice wavering.

Benji pleaded, “Will someone tell me what’s going on?”

“Andy,” Jessica gasped out, shocked by the sight before her. “Great stars – Melody!”

The captive heard the sound of wood scraping against wood. Two hands pushed against his shoulders, shoving him roughly into a hard chair. A scratchy rope wound its way around his body, suffocating him and securing him tightly to the back of the chair. The blindfold was yanked away from his face, and he blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the shady light. The sight he saw before him was one he wished he hadn't seen.

Broken chairs. Crumbling bricks. Shattered glass. Shredded wall hangings. Bloodstained walls. Overturned tables. Doors hanging off their hinges. Furniture, flipped over or ruined. Scattered plates. Lumped and crumpled masses of cloth and flesh visible poking out from behind broken furniture.

Jessica was crouched next to an arm sticking out from behind an overturned table. Her stomach twisted as she recognized the body the arm was connected to. The woman’s blonde hair had fallen over her face, concealing her wide open eyes that had stopped seeing. Her dress was stained sickeningly with blood, and as Jessica touched her friend’s skin, it sent a shock through her because of its icy temperature. Jessica swallowed and pulled the blonde mass of hair away from the woman’s face. Her features were not unpleasant to look at, but they were so hidden by bruises and blood that they went unnoticed as Jessica gently closed her friend’s blind eyes. She felt sorrow rising inside her like a flood, but she closed her eyes and took a deep breath until her emotions were in check. Now was not the time for weakness.

Andrew’s voice crept into her thoughts. “Max is dead.” The fact hit Jessica and then bounced off the numb shell she was building around her heart. She licked her lips, stood up shakily, and inspected another body nearby. It was in a sitting position, with its back resting against a wall as if asleep or waiting for someone to wake it up. But it wasn’t asleep. Jessica knelt beside the young man and inspected the spear sticking out of his stomach, pinning him to the wall where he had fallen. It stretched out several feet, and the blood that had dripped out of the wound had soaked through his wool shirt. Jessica sighed and examined his head, which had lolled to one side. She gently reached out a hand and brushed his shaggy hair away from his forehead.
He gasped, and two bright blue eyes locked onto her face, sending a burst of chill and then heat rushing through her veins. “Jacob’s alive!” she gasped out, hoping Andrew would hear. Jessica’s heart pounded inside her chest, startled and now very anxious.

“Jess,” the man whispered, his eyes never leaving her face. She clasped his bloody hand encouragingly, and with a nauseated feeling realized why it almost slipped out of her grasp.

“What happened here?” Jessica asked, her voice hardly a whisper. She became aware of Andrew kneeling beside her.

Jacob moved his lips as if trying to say something. He closed his eyes, making a tense expression before murmuring in a low voice, “Soldiers. Guards. Searching for something.”

Andrew’s keen eyes examined the man’s painful face and asked, “Where are Brooke and the Dane? I don’t see them among the dead.”

Jacob’s piercing eyes flashed open again and bored into Andrew. “Council meeting. Darwol. North Tower. There was a-” His breath caught in his throat, and he coughed for a few minutes. Slowly, he continued, “A messenger last night. Came to say they needed him there. They caught a creature. Some kind of dark--” He coughed again, but this time the sound was grating and forced, like something was trying to come up his throat. He laid his head back against the wall for a moment, a tiny gurgling noise emitting from his throat. And then he was still, just like he had been when Jessica first found him. His hand slid out of Jessica’s and hit the floor with a soft thud.
She swallowed and leaned forward, gently closing his open eyes with her fingers. She turned to gaze past Andrew, a lump in her throat. “Do you know where Darwol is?”

“No idea,” Andrew said sullenly. A heavy feeling settled over the room like dust, and Jessica and Andrew refused to move from beside their dead friend, each thinking hopeless thoughts.

“Well…” Benji broke the silence in his annoying, matter-of-fact tone, “This changes things a bit.” Both of the teenagers on the floor glanced up at him, as if suddenly remembering he was there. Anger flickered across Andrew’s face. Jessica stared at Benji, but her expression was unreadable.

Andrew was up on his feet. “This whole thing is his fault,” he accused, his anxious fingers already fumbling to find a weapon. “The soldiers were coming for him! If we had killed him when we had the chance, this never would have happened!” He began pushing tables and chairs out of his way, moving in a determined manner toward Benji. “Time to finish what should have been done a long time ago.”

“Andy, wait—” Jessica started, but Andrew was already mere feet away from the prince.

Benji eyed the weapon and its beholder with a calm countenance, nothing in his face betraying any kind of fear whatsoever. It unnerved Jessica, but it didn’t stop Andrew from driving his blade through his chest with an echoing shout. For a moment, shock froze Jessica, and she was helplessly staring at the form tied to the chair as its head flopped forward and its chest stopped pulsating. Andrew’s face was red, and he jerked the knife out of the boy with a hateful expression.

Jessica’s mouth was open wide, and it took her a moment to realize she probably looked like an idiot. “By the stars, Andy,” she muttered, trying to get a handle on her emotions. “What’s wrong with you?”

Andrew pointed at the dead body accusingly. “It’s his fault the city is dead! The soldiers must’ve been looking for him! Why else would they kill everyone?”

Jessica’s hands gripped the sides of her head, winding themselves through the roots of her hair. “Andy…you anger problem-”

Andrew wasn’t listening. “This whole thing doesn’t make sense…why kill everyone in the town? Under whose authority are they acting?”

“The king’s, no doubt,” came a voice from behind them. They turned sharply to behold Benji sitting straight up in his chair, staring at them calmly, just as he had been a few seconds ago. A hint of amusement flickered in his eye.

“But…you’re—” Jessica stared to say, surprise making her eyes widen involuntarily. “Dead…”

“Impossible,” Benji claimed. “Could a dead person juggle three flaming balls while balancing on top of a horse?” His brow furrowed. “Actually, that’s a bit hard for alive people to do, come to think of it…”

“How is this possible?” Jessica whispered, taking a hesitant step back.

Benji started in a sincere tone, “Oh, well, I’ve heard that they wear fire-proof gloves-”

“You’re alive…” Jessica stated, not believing her eyes.

“Oh, right, that…” Benji’s eyes rotated upward, as if calculating something in his head. He looked at Jessica the way a best friend would look at someone before confiding in him their greatest secret. “What do you know of magic?” A feeling seized Jessica at that moment that she couldn’t quite describe. It was like wanting to laugh and throw up at the same time.

Music Makers: Epilogue thing-a-ma-jig

2009-08-13T20:19:00.000-07:00

Chad paced back and forth nervously in the empty room. His agitated gaze flickered between one white wall and another, his stomach flipping nervously inside him. The room was small and had two doors; one on each end, and Chad glanced apprehensively toward the door that led to the stage. He wrung his hands together, bounced up and down in his tight shoes, and ran a nervous hand over his gelled hair. He was in the process of shaking himself in an effort to release his nervousness when the door opened and his friend Gary walked in.

Gary, about Chad’s height but more sturdily built, gave Chad a quizzical look. “Chad, it’s a musical concert, not basketball playoffs.”

The sixteen-year-old musician smiled at his friend, but the tension inside him didn’t ease up any. Gary approached him and clapped Chad’s shoulder. “You’ll do fine,” he tried to reassure his anxious friend. “You’re the youngest artist I know who has sold as many albums as you have.”

Chad winced. “Sure, but I’ve never done anything this big before.” He dared to peek out the tiny window of the door behind which a stage and an auditorium waited for him. “Is he there? Did he come?”

Gary’s expression took on a hint of regret. “Your mom said he got caught up in some work and couldn’t make it.”

Chad sighed, closing his tired eyes and rubbing them with his hands. “Figures.” Opening his eyes and peeking out the window again, he asked, “What if I mess up on stage? What if they hate me?”

“Don’t worry; if things get too crazy, I’ll pop out and do the macarana,” Gary said, grinning. He began to demonstrate, adding in his own moves and throwing in a few dangerous-looking poses. Chad laughed and pushed his friend good-naturedly toward the door.

“You’re funny, you’re funny, now get out. I need to focus for a moment. See you after the show, ok?” he said.

“You know it,” Gary agreed with a smile as he disappeared outside the doorframe. As soon as his friend was gone, Chad covered his face in his hands for a brief moment, his mind spinning. For the last few years, music had been his focus. It was all he ever thought about, all he ever dreamt about. And now, his dreams were becoming real, and he was drawing a blank. He pressed his fingers together as if he were praying and placed his thumbs under his clean-shaven chin. He had prepared for this. He could do this. This was his music. His life. It was time to share it with the world.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A young woman, about twenty-three or so, slipped in to the crowded auditorium. She had just begun walking toward the front of the auditorium when she saw a plump figure stride across the stage {which was barren save for a piano and two thick, red curtains that had been pulled aside moments ago}. The figure apparently was wearing a microphone, for his voice carried over the room marvelously. “May I present to the public for the first time in live concert, the wonderful, the young… Chad William Brent!”

The young woman began to move rapidly to the front row as the lights dimmed dramatically. The applause began to die down and another figure came on stage in a sharp tuxedo and what looked like leather, European shoes. She was close enough now to see his face, and his features astounded her. Who was this young man and what had he done to her little, eight-year old friend?

His hair was slicked back, contrary to the bed head hair she remembered from years ago. A firm chin had replaced the chubby one she could see so clearly in her mind. The pudgy cheeks of the child had been replaced by this man’s well-defined bones, and he had now grown in to his ears that had previously been too big for his head. Wordlessly, she stepped closer to the stage, as she hoped to glimpse his eyes. He turned and smiled to the crowd, but his gaze passed over her blindly in the dark audience.

The woman smiled slightly to herself. He had his father’s eyes. But his father’s eyes had been shifty and uncertain, whereas this man’s hazel eyes seemed honest, and hopeful, but somehow wise. He had the face of a man, and he had the clothes of a man, but his eyes were a mixture both of childlike sincerity and mature wisdom. The woman allowed a small smile to touch her lips again. He was nervous. She could tell by the way he walked and awkwardly shuffled the papers on the piano bench after sitting down hesitantly. But he was willing. And that was enough to make the woman smile.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chad’s experienced eyes wandered over his music for a moment, his stomach still retching inside him. He let out a long breath of air, mentally steadying himself and focusing on the papers in front of his face. He placed his hands lightly on the piano keys and sucked in a breath. And then he played.

His fingers knew where they were supposed to go. They knew the beat, the rhythm, the tune, the tone. They knew how to wrench the heart out of their listeners, and how to make their eyes shine. They began to weave the tune depicted in front of them by the sheets of music, and they were pleased and began to weave faster and faster. Chad tried to contain his excitement because he knew rushed music was hardly enjoyable. The notes he played were sure and strong, and he began to feel quite at ease performing in front of the large group of people. Soon, his fingers were playing unconsciously, and his eyes began to scan the audience he could see from his peripheral vision.

He counted face after face…and then his eyes fell on a person he had not expected to be there. His fingers nearly froze at the sight of his father, and he struggled to keep a steady rhythm. At the thought of his father there, he suddenly grew more nervous. What if he messed up? What if he failed in front of his father? His father, who expected so much of him?

The young woman in the audience was studying the young musician carefully. “Slow down, Chad,” she thought to herself. He was going to blow it. He had lost his focus. She began to move again, trying to get to the first row.

Chad stared at his dancing fingers in disbelief, wondering how they had become so out-of-line. His nightmare was coming real. As the sweat began to form on his forehead, he desperately glanced up at the audience again.

He saw her. He would know her face anywhere, but how much older and sadder it seemed! She caught his desperate look, and met it with a calm one. Her dark eyebrows were raised as if beseeching him to relax. A trace of a smile lingered around the corners of her lips.

Suddenly, a voice from the past echoed in his mind. “Just keep playing. Stop thinking. Let your fingers play without your eyes. Let your heart play without your mind.”

Before Chad could think, his fingers were playing a different tune. This wasn’t just a tune. It was a song. A plea. A feeling. An emotion. It was a living thing, and it began to circle about the room, touching people’s hearts inside them and stirring thoughts in their minds. His song spoke of hope, of life, of joy, and yet it sang without words, as it spiraled around the room gently and reached inside his audience.

Chad felt calm all of a sudden, and a sense of peace began to settle over him. He wasn’t playing from the sheets of paper in front of him. He was playing from his memory – he was playing from his heart. He gazed at his hands for a moment, a grin twisting the corners of his lips, and then he closed his eyes. His song began to soar.

The young woman’s smile softened. This was the tune he had played for her eight years ago – the tune they had made up together on the bench of an old, school piano. Its simple melody was more complicated now, and its emotion seemed more intricate, as if each note sang of a different feeling than it once had. She wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes, twisting back and forth as if suppressing the urge to dance.

Chad’s fingers harmonized the melody they had created, like two voices singing in unison. With a satisfied feeling, he ended the song, choosing to let the last chords ring in the air before finishing them off softly with a few notes that flowed from the instrument like water would overflow from a glass.

The moment he had finished his song, the audience awoke as if from a spell and clapped so loudly that Chad could have sworn it was thunder. People began standing up, smiles erupting on their faces – young and old, and in between. His eyes were drawn first to his father, who was clapping enthusiastically with a grin on his face. Next, Chad’s eyes wandered over to the woman he had seen.

She was standing next to the seats on the first row, her white teeth showing in a brilliant smile as she joined in the echoing applause. He smiled back at her, before waving and bowing at the audience. Quickly, the announcer came back on and showed him off the stage, introducing the following act as Chad darted off the platform and into the prep room he had started in.

The woman watched him go, and as soon as he had disappeared, the smile gradually faded from her face. She glanced around her at the smiling people, cheering and clapping and whistling. Slowly, she stepped backwards and began moving to the back of the auditorium, blending in with the people standing around her. She had seen him play. She had heard his music. She was done here. It was time to start running again. Without having spoken a word, she left the auditorium almost as quickly as she had entered it.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chad burst through the door and into a brick wall. The brick wall turned out to be Gary, embracing him. Chad laughed into his friend’s shoulder. Gary pulled back and looked at the musician, grinning.

“Dude, where in the universe did that come from?” asked Gary, wonder evident on his face.

Chad couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. “I don’t know… it… it kind of just happened. It was like something I knew I could do. Like something I’d done before.” Chad ran his hands through his gelled hair, unconsciously wrinkling and spiking it in the process. “And I had. It was a memory.”

Gary laughed. “When did you remember that, man, cuz I’ve known you since we were two, and I do not remember hearing that ever in my life!”

“There was a woman here tonight. She was with me the first time I played that song. Except she was younger. And I was younger,” Chad began to say quickly, trying to explain to his friend.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me about this?” Gary asked. “You’d think that would be something important one should tell one’s best friend.”

“Because I was like eight or something. All kinds of things happened when I was eight that I didn’t think were worth mentioning.” Chad shrugged. He dashed over to the other door. “I have to see if she’s still there.”

“Wait, you can’t go out there now,” Gary insisted. “There’s another guy playing. If you go out now, the crowd might swarm you and you’ll end up crowd surfing before you can say ‘Beethoven’.”

Chad sighed. “You’re right,” he admitted.

An hour later, the two young men emerged from the waiting room and mingled with the crowd. Chad’s joyful face was replaced with a confused one. People surrounded him, asking him questions, and requesting his autograph, but the one person he wanted to see couldn’t be found. Among the many faces pressing in on him from all sides, hers was not there. With a sinking feeling, he remembered the last time he had seen her. She had disappeared in exactly the same way.

Gary, who had never left his side, leaned toward Chad’s ear and asked in a whisper, “So where’s the chick who inspired your music?”

Chad’s eyes were still scanning the crowd, but he wasn’t hopeful. “I don’t know.”

“Are you sure she’s even real?” Gary attempted to tease.

Chad didn’t catch his friend’s cheerful tone. It felt like his heart was plummeting downwards into his stomach. In a bewildered voice, his muttered half to Gary and half to himself, “I don’t know.”

Music Makers

2009-08-09T20:20:00.001-07:00

*no, I didn't give up on the other story, i just wanted to share this short story wit ya. Enjoy and leave comments, no matter how critical!! Gracias, amigos!!*

Chad ran down the hallway, tears streaming down his face. The old school walls peered down at him degradingly, dismissing his childish sorrow as petty, eight-year-old nonsense. The principal’s office was the last door on the right, but Chad ran to a wall near a wooden door and leaned against it, crying. His tiny fingers felt along the splintering wood door, his mind not really focusing on what it was feeling.

Suddenly, his flow of tears subsided into a mere trickle, and he lifted his head and listened. What was that? He pressed his ear against the door. A slow tune wound its way through the door to his ears, diluted and muffled. Sniffing and wiping the tears from his eyes, Chad cautiously opened the door and stepped inside.

The room he was now in was plain, and had four ordinary white-washed walls. However, these walls were covered with lots of papers and posters, depicting how to properly hold instruments, and what certain musical symbols meant. In the small room, rows of trombones, tubas, flutes, clarinets, and drums could be seen leaning against racks or perched upon shelves on the walls. What grabbed Chad’s attention the most was the large, grand piano in the middle of the cramped room directly in front of a small window near the ground.

A teenage girl sat on the piano bench, her fingers dancing over the white and black keys, stroking them, urging them to sing. Her plain hair was tied back out of her face, revealing relatively ordinary features beneath two distracted eyes. As soon as she heard the door open, the distant look on her face evaporated and her hands froze, the music dying in the air. She stared at him for a moment, not sure what to say.

Chad wiped his hand over his nose, sniffing, and fearlessly approached her. “You’re not dressed for school,” he told her.

Her eyebrows lifted, but she smiled. “I don’t go to school here. I’m just passing through.”

Chad was now right beside her, peeking over the piano bench up at her. His bright, brown eyes shifted to the pale sheets of music resting against the piano. “That’s pretty music,” he commented.

The girl followed his gaze to the papers. “Oh, I wasn’t playing from those.” As if to prove it, she shuffled the papers together and flipped them over so only their white backsides were showing. “I’m not very good at reading music.”

Chad clambered onto the bench beside the girl, as she scooted over to allow him to sit on her right. “Music can be read?” he asked in a disbelieving tone.

“Mhm,” the girl replied. She reached into her hoodie pocket and pulled out a wad of paper. She unfurled it and straightened it to the best of her ability, then held it in front of the little boy. “See these marks?” she asked, gesturing. “Each one is like a word of a story.”

Chad’s eyes widened. “Can you read them?”

The girl nodded. “These I can read. I wrote them.”

The boy traced one little finger down the wrinkles in the page, his mouth slowly opening at how many confusing lines and dots he counted. Curious, he asked, “What do they say?”

The girl smiled again, and rubbed the wrinkles smooth. Then she placed them upon the piano and positioned her fingers lightly upon the keys. A gentle sound emitted from the piano, and slowly a song began to grow inside the tiny music room. It started softly first, with a simple melody drifting its way through the air carelessly. Then, a series of deep, echoing notes combined with the light ones , like a skilled tango – each part weaving its way around the other, and yet each complimenting its opposite and adding to its sweetness. The tune rose high, and then dropped low, and then twisted and turned. It was sad, and then happy, and then soft and still before growing to an almost deafening volume.

As the girl played, her eyes regained their far-away look, like she was remembering something that had happened a long time ago. Slowly, the notes grew spread apart, and then they wound down to a gentle stop. Chad stared at the girl with confusion. She grabbed her music and stuffed it back into her pocket before facing her new friend again.

“The music said you were happy. And then you were sad. And then you were happy again.” The little boy tilted his head, almost like a bird – innocent and curious. “Why were you sad?”

The girl’s mind struggled to find a simple answer to his simple question. “I used to be sad because my daddy left me. That was a long time ago. I don’t remember much about it anymore. I’m happy now because I have a daddy and a mommy who love me very much.” The teenager studied the little boy’s tear-stained cheeks.

“Why were you crying?” she asked, in the same manner the child had asked her.

His forehead grew creased and his lips twisted into a frown. It was almost funny how serious he looked, but the girl didn’t laugh. “Because Tommy Blankley called my daddy a hobo.”

The girl raised her eyebrows. “Did he now?”

The boy nodded seriously, so seriously in fact that he almost fell off the piano bench. “Yes. But my daddy’s not a hobo. He’s a street musician,” Chad said in a proud tone. “And so I hit Tommy. And then Mrs. Summers told me to go to the principal’s office. She didn’t believe me that Tommy called daddy a name.”

The girl’s wise eyes examined the little boy’s, and she asked slowly, “Do you know what makes me feel better sometimes when I’m sad?”

“What?”

“Playing the piano. Making Music.”

Chad crossed his arms. “I can’t make music. I can’t read music.”

“You don’t need to be able to read music to play it,” the girl informed him. She glanced around the room for a moment, thinking. “Sit really still,” she said suddenly. “Listen.”
Chad uncrossed his arms and stuck out his neck, as if that would help his straining ears to hear. He didn’t hear anything at first, and was about to tell the girl so, when suddenly he heard the birds chirping outside. He struggled to turn around backwards on the bench to peek out the open window. There, he saw wind chimes, and as soon as he laid eyes on them, a lost gust of wind found its way to their metal pipes.

The girl watched him carefully, her small smile creeping back onto her lips. “What do you hear?” she whispered. He looked up at her, and then at the piano. One small finger reached out to the D key. He was afraid she would be mad, or tell him he was too little to touch the piano, but she smiled encouragingly and he cautiously pressed a note two keys to the right of the one he was pressing now.

“What else?” the girl asked, urging him on. Slowly, he began pressing more keys, and a halting, stuttering tune began to begin in that small, dusty, band room. “Good, good,” the girl murmured. “Keep playing that,” she said, and she reached out with experienced hands to the keys in front of her.

Deep, solemn notes began mixing with his high, cheery ones. The mixture was rich, and knowing that he helped create it gave Chad a content feeling, like letting the sun dry you after you swim, or biting into a chocolate bar. The simple melody he created was contrasted by her harmony, and the song began to swirl around in the air around them.

“Don’t worry about hitting a wrong note,” the girl said, after one of his fingers slipped. “Just keep playing. Stop thinking. Let your fingers play without your eyes. Let your heart play without your mind.” And soon, Chad stopped wondering how the tune would sound when he pressed certain keys; he found he already knew. His fingers wandered over the slick, smooth keys with purpose, and he liked the sound they made.

The minutes soared by, but eventually their heart-felt song shrank and slowly stopped. The girl and the boy stared at each other. Breaking the silence, the girl told Chad, “You got it in you, kid.”
“What?” Chad asked, alarmed that something was inside him.

She laughed. “Music.”

Chad stared at his hands, as if looking for some sign that she had seen. “My mommy says I’m too little to make music. My daddy teaches me in secret, though.”

“My dad used to teach me, too. Hey, will you promise me something?”

“What?” he asked, curious.

“Will you promise me that no matter what anyone tells you, you’ll still make music?” she requested, her kind eyes staring into his young face. He nodded solemnly. She smiled. “Good. I think you’ll be pretty good some day.”

“As good as you?” he asked in a hopeful tone.

She leaned closer to him and whispered as if confiding a secret to him. “Better than me.” He gasped. She laughed. The sound was nice to his little ears. “I think you should go to the principal’s office before you get into more trouble.”

Chad sighed and slid off the old piano bench. He walked over to the door slowly, criss-crossing his feet in a child-like waddle. “Hey, kid,” the teenager called after him. “What’s your name?”

He turned around and stated proudly, “Chad William Bent. What’s yours?”

“Denise Beasley,” she lied. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Will you come play here again soon?” he asked, hopefully.

Regret twisted the girl’s stomach. “Maybe,” she lied again. He smiled at her, revealing a hole where a tooth had recently fallen out. With a skip, he was out the door. The girl’s eyes focused on the door he had disappeared behind. “William Bent,” she whispered. Her father’s name. She stood up and walked over to the low, open window, brushing past the wind chimes and sliding into the bushes outside.

A few minutes later, Chad pulled his teacher by the hand into the old, abandoned music room. It was silent and empty now, save for the dusty instruments that had witnessed everything in the room only moments before.

“She was in here, I promise,” Chad insisted, running to the bench and peering under it as if to find his friend hiding underneath.

“Chad, there’s no one here. Now if you don’t come with me right now, you’ll be in even more trouble,” his teacher chided him. Chad wasn’t listening. At least, not to her. His eyes and ears were trained on the metal wind chimes swaying softly by the open window. They were creating a quiet, light tune, but there was no wind…

Ch. 4 - The Flight

2009-08-04T10:44:00.000-07:00

Hoof beats erupted in the night, distant and far-off, but they were enough to alarm Jessica. The two young fighters had been trudging through the woods for a good half hour, pulling Benji the prince behind them. The fact that he was blindfolded and tied didn’t make the going any faster. Jessica, leading since Andrew was dragging their hostage, glanced back at her friend.

“We have to hurry!” she hissed, as the hoof beats drew slowly but steadily closer. “We’re just outside the city limits!”

Benji, who was close enough to hear her strained voice, suggested, “You should untie me. I would be a lot faster.”

Andrew rolled his eyes and increased his pace. “Yeah, and while we’re at it, we’ll throw in a basket laden with food for you to take with you while you escape.” He snorted. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“At least take off my blindfold,” Benji tried again. He stumbled over a tree root. Andrew yanked upon the rope, jerking his captive up and on his feet again.

“So that you can lead the guards back to our hide out? Think again,” he retorted in a low tone, fearing detection even though the riders were still too far away to hear them. “Stop talking,” he ordered.

The hoof beats echoed off the tall trees surrounding the trio, growing ever closer. “If they catch us, we’re dead,” Jessica stated, glancing around in despair for some place to hide. The horses were coming from all directions, sweeping the forest like a net attempting to scoop up an elusive fish. “We can’t outrun them,” she said, despairingly turning to Andrew. They stopped their brisk pace, staring at each other hopelessly.

“Take off his blindfold and use it to gag him,” Jessica commanded, suddenly struck with an idea. Andrew met her eyes, his confused expression examining her persuasive one. Wordlessly, he did so. Jessica’s knife rested lightly on Benji’s back, and she pushed him toward a cluster of tall, sturdy trees with low branches. Andrew’s eyebrows shot up in understanding, and he grabbed a branch that had fallen from a tree covered in bristles and began following them, brushing the branch over the earth. Leaning toward the prince’s ear, Jessica whispered, “Climb.”

Five minutes later, the guard’s horses came thundering through. Their black manes billowed into their masters’ faces almost comically. The leading horse and his rider pulled up short, turned around, and trotted in a broad circle. The large stallion snorted and thrust back its head and all the other horses followed its example. The soldiers peered into the dense forest, their horses shifting beneath them. Silence fell over the party, interrupted only by the labored sound of winded horses struggling to get enough breath into their lungs.

Benji twitched next to Andrew. They were twenty feet above the men, concealed in the branches of the thick, old trees. Jessica’s left hand held the knife, which was still pressing into his back relentlessly. Jessica and Andrew were so close to Benji, they could smell his citrusy, imported cologne. Jessica wrinkled her nose, resisting the urge to cough and gag.

“The tracks stop here,” shouted a guard. Jessica’s quick eyes counted five men, but there were bound to be more that she couldn’t see flanking this regiment. Hopefully they wouldn’t find them since Andrew had erased their tracks with the branch. Hopefully.

“We can’t allow them to escape. If we don’t have him before sunrise…” the leader started to say before trailing off in an uncertain tone. “We continue this way. Hurry!” he shouted. In a few moments, the rumbling of horses began again and soon they were out of eyesight.

Jessica and Andrew didn’t dare breathe out until the hoof beats had faded into the distance. Andrew motioned for Jessica to jump down, which she did. Landing lightly on her feet, she turned and looked up at the boys in the tree. Benji jumped down next and Jessica was waiting with a drawn dagger at the bottom. Quickly, Andrew joined them, and in a few moments, Benji was re-blindfolded and re-tied. They once again set out at a brisk pace for the resistance’s meeting place. This time, Andrew was in front, then Benji, and then Jessica, trailing behind.

After a few moments of movement, Benji asked in a casual tone, “So how long have you two been assassinating royalty?” Neither of them replied, but Andrew yanked the lead rope suddenly, causing Benji to stumble forward. “In my opinion, you two aren’t very good,” Benji said once he was back on his feet.

“Do you want to live or not?” spat Jessica, resisting the urge to kick him behind his kneecap.

“I’m just curious if you’re bred to be murderers, or if it’s an acquired trait.”

“It’s a talent, really,” Andrew corrected in a matter-of-fact tone. Jessica began to feel uneasy about where this conversation might lead.

“How old are you two anyway?” Benji persisted in pestering them. “You don’t look old enough to kill people.”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t look old enough to lead a kingdom,” he countered.

“Eighteen summers is old enough,” he replied. “But don’t let age be the only trait you judge me for.”

Jessica frowned. “If you’re as kind and good as you claim to be, why do these terrible laws keep appearing? Why to people starve, and cry, and mourn? If you’re such a good leader, why is this kingdom slowly dying?” The trees were thinning; they were almost to the city, Tosh. It was still night, and the path ahead was blanketed in dark shadows.

“He was the king. I’m the prince. There’s a bit of influence diversity there. Chain of command, you know. Not to mention my father’s foolish advisor. What could I do? I’m powerless until I become king, and since you two have now abducted me and are taking me who-knows-where, that’s unlikely to happen.”

Jessica suddenly thought of something. Voicing her thoughts out loud, she asked, “If what you say is true, why do you fight for a people you never knew? None of the nobles have ever cared about their subjects; no one notices the slave that labors for his luxuries. You can’t be that selfless.”

“Is it really that hard to believe that a person could care for other people besides himself?” Benji questioned in a quiet tone.

Jessica’s head hurt. “Stop talking,” she weakly commanded. The trees suddenly opened up and the tall, stone walls of a city stared across at them. Jessica let out a breath and tried not to feel too relieved until they were inside. Quickly and as quietly as possible, they slipped through the gates.

“We can’t be seen,” Andrew informed them. Jessica nodded. She took up a position in front of Andrew, in order to scout ahead and make sure the way was clear and there were no curious eyes about.

As they were traveling along the first street, Jessica noticed a man slouching against a doorway. His back was toward them, and his head was angled down so she couldn’t see his face. She quickly raised her hand, and Andrew ducked around a corner with Benji still in tow.

“Maybe it’s best that we split up. Less conspicuous. Take him to the safe house; I’ll meet you there,” Jessica whispered. Andrew nodded. Jessica resumed walking around the corner, eyeing the man. She paced quietly toward him, wondering what to ask him to make sure he hadn’t seen them lugging their captive around. However, as she approached, she realized something was wrong. He hadn’t moved the whole time since she had set eyes on him. With an uneasy feeling growing in her stomach, she drew a dagger out from her belt and hurried toward him. As she approached him from the back, she noticed a thick, dark liquid trailing down the doorpost and into the street.

Slowing, she remained only a few feet away from the man. Sucking in a breath, she tapped his shoulder. He didn’t move. With hesitant feet, Jessica circled around him to face him from the front. She gasped and the blood froze within her veins. A crudely-fashioned sword stuck out of his chest, pinning him to the doorway. Panic rose inside her, which she struggled to control. He was dead! Murdered! She stepped backwards, slowly, her legs refusing to move like she needed them to.

With a growing fear, Jessica began to run to the safe house. As she ran, she cast anxious glances down the streets and alleys she passed. Bodies, still and unmoving, lay crumpled at their entrances. Not a soul stirred in the whole city. She was trapped in a waking nightmare. Who would be left to greet her at the tavern? Was there anyone left? Had anyone escaped this madness? What had happened here? Her breathing became ragged and unbalanced. “Pull it together, Jessica,” her mind told her.

As she darted through an alley, the tavern came into view. Its plain appearance seemed shaken, disturbed, and somehow unnatural. Jessica burst through the alley and ran up the uneven steps to the porch. Andrew emerged from a street on the right, dragging Benji behind him.

“Jessica-” Andrew started.

“I know!” she replied, breathless. Her fear made her shudder as she grasped the handle of the old door and threw it open. The feelings that swelled up inside her at that moment were too complex to understand. It was like sleepwalking around the street and waking up to find you had wandered into a butcher’s shop.

Ch. 3 - The Escape

2009-07-31T13:04:00.000-07:00

Jessica clenched the knife and raised it above the prince’s head. Steadying herself, she took a deep breath and then brought it down with all her might. Halfway through her movement, she could tell something was wrong. Her suspicion was confirmed when her weapon sliced through nothing but air. The prince had rolled over at the last minute, and was now jumping up off the floor. She jerked her knife out of the mattress and spun around. Her eyes detected a flash of light glinting in his hand, and she ducked to avoid a swipe from his knife. The glowing fireplace emitted a ghostly light that illuminated his face. He had a straight nose that rested above his thin lips. Two high cheekbones guarded either side of his square face, and his fair, blonde hair fell over his forehead in the worst case of bed head hair she had ever seen. But his eyes were challenging, vivid, alive, and their startling blue hue stared portrayed a sense of calm.

Jessica frowned. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She tossed her knife up in the air, caught it by its tip, and threw it at the center of his chest. With almost uncanny speed, he twisted away and let the blade pierce a porcelain jar behind him which shattered instantly. He raised one of his blonde eyebrows.

“You just wasted your only weapon. For an assassin, you’re not that bright,” he commented, in a voice deeper than she would have expected. Irritated, she slipped another knife out from inside her boot with one hand and a dagger from her belt with the other.

“And you haven’t called your guard yet. You’re not that bright, either,” she thought. “I have enough weapons to finish my job,” she retorted out loud. He took a step backward, and she launched another knife his way. He ducked under this one, once again more quickly than she would have imagined possible. Changing her target, she shot her other dagger at his feet. He nimbly leapt over it like a deer. She stared at him for a moment, confused and frustrated, before quickly lunging for the poker by the fireplace. She swung it around and caught the blade he had in the process of thrusting at her. Taking two steps forward, she struck at his sides. He blocked each of her blows, all the while keeping a calm countenance. Their fight caused them to dance around the room, parrying and blocking and spinning and ducking all the while. Now quite angry, she lashed out at his head with the poker. He quickly stepped to the side. She stumbled forward and he grabbed both her wrists from behind so tightly she released her weapon with a small cry. He twisted her right arm and pinned it against her back, roughly shoving her forward until she was pressed against the wall.

They were both breathing heavily now, and sweat had formed along Jessica’s brow. Gasping, she tried to move, but his hands held her wrists firmly. Her face was pressed against the cold, stone wall, and she suddenly felt a chill run down her spine.

“Who are you?” he hissed in her ear. She shivered but said nothing, only uselessly trying to wrench her arms away. “Answer me!” he commanded, pushing her harder into the wall. She refused to answer. He sighed softly. “I haven’t called my guards yet; I know they’ll be harsher than I. I had hoped you would explain yourself without their influence.”

He paused, as if waiting for her to reply. The room seemed to hold its breath. Everything was still except for their echoing breaths. “So be it,” he said, exasperated. “Guard!” he called out, his deep voice ringing out in the quiet room.

Jessica regained her breath, and she closed her eyes. She counted the seconds. After five had passed by, she permitted a small smile to creep across her lips. “He won’t come,” said the girl.
His grip on her wrists tightened. “What do you mean?”

She could hear the suspicion in his voice. With enough confidence as she could muster, she replied coolly, “He’s dead.”

At that moment, the door burst open. The prince’s grip loosened, and Jessica took the opportunity to kick her leg out backward. Her foot connected with flesh, and she quickly whipped around to see the prince doubled over, with Andrew in the doorway. Andrew sprung forward, dagger in hand, and positioned himself behind the prince.

“Wait,” Jessica said quickly, raising a shaking hand. “We still need him. We can get out through the main gate with him as a hostage. Tunnels are too cramped for three people.” Andrew froze, and then gradually realized she was right. The prince’s eyes rose hopefully to meet hers. “We can kill him once we’re outside the gate,” she said in a level voice, relishing revenge.

“Wait until my father finds out about this, you scheming little—” the rest of his highness’ words were cut off as Jessica gagged him.

“Your father,” Jessica began, smirking in front of him as she bound his hands with some cloth she had torn from her sleeve, “Is dead.” The youth’s bright, blue eyes widened. Andrew reached his arm around the prince and placed his dagger firmly on the hostage’s neck. In a few moments, all three of them were preceding down the hall, the prince in between the two assassins, both of which had weapons pressing into his skin. He struggled and thrashed, of course, but they dragged him along anyway.

They hadn’t run into anyone and were beginning to feel hopeful until they got to the first level and were starting across the grounds. A few tall, muscular men in armor spotted them and rushed forward.

“Stop!” Andrew called out when he saw them. By now the sun had long since set, and the moon only gave out enough light in the darkness to reveal faint outlines and shadows. “We have the prince, and we’ll kill ‘im!” The shapes continued running toward them. “Stop moving or I’ll slit his throat!” Andrew shouted. At last, the shadows slowed.

Jessica, Andrew, and the prince continued across the moonlit grass, their eyes flickering between the gate ahead that led to freedom, and the slinking, sliding guards. Jessica pressed the knife upward under the prince’s chin. He sucked in a sharp breath, and the guards finally stopped. How strange it must have been to see their prince, in his white nightshirt and cotton trousers, being held at knife point by two people almost his age.

“Let us pass. Open the gates,” commanded Jessica. A well-built, sturdy man took a step toward the gates, but then hesitated. They were so close… “Now!” hollered Jessica. Reluctantly, he continued to the huge wooden wheel in front of the stone wall next to the huge, portcullis gate. As the heavy gate slowly rose with a grating sound, Jessica shifted from foot to foot uneasily. They were so close…so close to victory. It was almost too easy.

The prince knew he was almost out of protection, and he thrashed violently in their constricting grips. It was hopeless, for the youths were trained, and they didn’t budge or loosen their hold at all. At last, the gate was fully opened. The trio walked quickly towards it, suspiciously glancing around them always, dragging their stubborn captive with them. “Walk backwards,” Andrew commanded. They faced the guards, making sure none of them moved, and walked under the grey, stone archway. “Close the gates!” shouted Andrew, still backing up. Jessica’s nerves still hadn’t settled, and she anxiously bit her lip. The gates slowly inched their way down, making the same grating noise as before. They took a few more steps back, and then Andrew gave the command to turn around and run into the surrounding woods. Once the castle was out of view, the two assassins relaxed and paused to regain their breath.

Trees as old as time watched the trio gasping and panting and leaning against the trees. “We’ll be pursued,” Jessica warned. Andrew’s narrowed, brown eyes peered into the dark, foreboding trees behind them. He turned to their captive and ungagged him. Jess shot him a puzzled look.

“Let’s kill him now,” Andrew suggested, his voice now lethally low.

“Let’s not and say we did,” the prince interjected, not at all as frightened or as alarmed as Jessica had hoped he would be.

“Andy…” Jessica started, her brow furrowed in confusion. “If he stays alive, he could help us plan our attacks…he knows the castle best, and he could tell us the guards’ next move.”

“I like that staying alive part,” the prince said, nodding as if they had been looking for his approval.

“No, we have a man on the inside who could tell us just as much, and the prince has caused us enough trouble already,” Andrew told her, gripping his knife tighter.

“What trouble is that? I don’t know you,” the prince stated. “I don’t even know your name. Mine’s Benji, by the way.”

“Shut up,” Andrew growled. “You and your father make the laws that have allowed our city to turn to ruin. You are the reason people are allowed to be sold as slaves. You are the reason people who can’t pay taxes are thrown in jail instead of given an allowance of time in which to pay off. You are the reason children are orphaned at age five because their parents disagreed with your government,” Andy fiercely declared. Benji shook his head.

“That’s not what I am. My father issued those laws, and he would have issued laws worse than that, had I not been there to stop him. I am the reason those slaves weren’t killed. I am the reason civilians are thrown in jail instead of being butchered. I am the reason the orphans live, so that they can prosper and grow, and become citizens just as strong and perseverant as their parents.” Benji’s eyes flashed. “Don’t blame me for the sins of my father. Believe me, this country would be worse off without me.”

“And better off without your father,” Jessica added, glancing at Andrew. He was standing in front of Benji with his knife extended. Rage and passion were etched into his tense face. “Andy…maybe we made a mistake,” she ventured to say. He turned to glare at her.

“What? Jess, it’s starting to sound like you’re on his side! Are you going to go through with this or are you a traitor? Do not betray your country; they’re counting on you. On me. On us.”

“But what if we were wrong?” she questioned, doubts beginning to circulate within her at the prince’s words.

“Human error should be taken into account in every equation,” Benji chimed in.

“Shut up,” Jessica commanded the captive, harshly. Shifting her gaze back to Andrew, she wondered out loud, “What if leaving Benji there was a good idea? I mean, if he does agree with what we stand for…if he’s really on our side…”

“Question is,” Benji interrupted, “Whose side are you on?”

“The people’s,” Jessica said plainly, allowing a bit of irritation to seep into her voice.

“I don’ think we should let him live,” Andrew cautioned.

“I disagree. Let’s take a vote,” Benji countered.

“Shut UP!” Jessica and Andy shouted, together. “By the stars…” mumbled Jessica.

“Are you drunk?” Andrew questioned the prince.

“No, no, I never drink. I like to keep my wits about me. You should try it some time,” Benji evenly replied. Andrew whipped out his dagger, letting out a shout of rage and reaching for the prince’s neck. Benji shrank back a bit, but the emotion portrayed in his dark blue eyes was one Jessica couldn’t quite place or name.

“Wait! Maybe we should take him back to the Great Dane!” Jessica exclaimed loudly. Andrew froze, breathing quickly. Seizing the opportunity, Jessica added, “There might be a bigger use for the prince than either of us can see right now…I think we should take him back and hand him over to the Dane: He’ll know what to do. Better to be safe and let him be killed there, than sorry later that he’s dead now.”

Andrew gave Benji another hateful look before sighing and stowing his dagger. “Fine. But if he so much as breathes too loudly, I’ll kill him.”

“Ah, I see you despise competition,” Benji commented. A few minutes later, they were all trudging through the woods in the waning moonlight. Benji was blindfolded with his hands tied in front of him and a lead rope connecting him to Andrew. The three carefully and as quickly as possible made their way back towards the city where their leader would be waiting for them. Jessica just hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed. And so the fox and the hound led their palace peacock to the lions’ den.

Ch. 2 - The Castle

2009-07-26T13:02:00.000-07:00

The sun had set and the moon was silently creeping upward in the sky when at last Andrew and Jessica reached the tunnel’s entrance. It was a small, oak door that lay flat on the earthen ground, well-concealed under a leafy, thorny bush. It was so well-concealed, in fact, that the two youths searched for the trapdoor for at least five minutes before they realized where it was.

Andrew knelt down upon discovering it and slid one calloused hand under the thorny defenses of the foliage. He wrapped his fingers around the handle of the door and then jerked it upwards. The door opened with a creak of un-oiled hinges, and the bush lifted with it. Jessica peered into the dark hole that resembled a crude mouth in the earth, ready to devour her.

She sucked in a deep breath and then gripped the sides of the opening, slowly lowering herself in. Once the tip of her toe connected with something solid, she reluctantly let go and took a few steps forward. The dark tunnel continued in one direction, but it was so dark she couldn’t tell if it stopped in a few feet, or a few miles. A light thud sounded behind her, and Jessica turned around to see Andrew in the act of closing the door behind them. They were both crouching, for the tunnel was low-ceilinged. A few seconds later, the narrow sides of dirt packed around them were illuminated as Andrew lit a match and lighted a torch that had been dormant and dusty in the side of a wall.

“Cramped,” he remarked, waving the flame around the short, constricting walls covered in mold and mildew. A smell of earth and rot filled their nostrils and caused them to hold their hands over their noses. They couldn’t stand side by side; the walls were so close together it was hard fitting without turning a shoulder to slide by diagonally.

“Let’s get going,” Jessica suggested. They shifted and squeezed, maneuvering around until Andrew was leading since he had the light. As they passed through the narrow walls, slumped over, Jessica asked in a timid voice, “Why are these tunnels even here?”

“I’ve heard many theories suggested by the band,” Andrew told her, sweeping the torch back and forth to light up the ground in front of his confident feet. “Barren said traders used it to sell wine to the guards and cooks without the king knowing. Melody said children built it to play in when it was raining and they were tired of the inside. Steven claims it was a military escape in case the castle was under siege, so some people could sneak out to the woods or further to get help, or food. Brooke is persuaded that a lonely princess had is secretly constructed ages ago, in order to provide her a secretive route in which to meet with her lover in the woods.” Andrew shrugged one shoulder. “But you know how she is.”

Jessica stared at the earthen walls laden with roots and covered in green foliage. They were supported with wooden columns that seemed half-rotten in some places. The floor, which was some kind of stone that might have been smooth in its day, was cracked and broken. “Well, whoever built it, they haven’t been down here in some number of years,” she remarked. The gloom in this place settled over her and bound her in its silent spell. Not even a faint dripping could be heard, or the wind whistling through loose stones. All was still and quiet.

They didn’t speak for the rest of the way, until at last they arrived at another door in the roof. Both of the youths shed their cloaks, revealing the garments of simple castle servants. Andrew slowly reached up and knocked twice on the old wood. Jessica was afraid it would splinter and rain down on them; it looked so ancient and fragile. After a few silent seconds, the door creaked open. Andrew was grabbed by two fragile-looking hands that helped him up and out of the dirty, cramped tunnel. Jessica approached the spot where he had been moments ago and reached up. Andrew’s tan hands grabbed her right arm, and the two pale ones her left. Once she was out of the tunnel, she blinked and saw herself looking into two big, blue eyes.

A young woman with pale blonde hair was staring back at her, dressed in the traditional garb of palace cooks. To her right, Andrew was stretching, his limbs glad to be out of the hunched-over position. The three occupants of the kitchen stood appraising one another with wary eyes, and the two newcomers unconsciously noted the dim light of a single candle and the glow it cast upon the cluttered kitchen.

“The fox an’ the ‘ound?” the woman questioned in a light, accented voice. Jessica recognized the code words, but Andrew was quicker to reply than she was.

“The door mouse?” Andrew’s eyes were scrutinizing her. She looked to be a bit older than them, and her build was thin but tough. Jessica wondered how she had heaved Andrew out of the hole, for she seemed so petite and small. Then again, she was a cook, and her arms seemed to bulge out of their long sleeves with muscle. She had a hidden strength, apparently. So this was their inside man… the door mouse; unseen, unheard, but always seeing, always hearing.

As if suddenly remembering something, the slight figure fished around in her apron pocket for an object. She pulled out two keys and hid each one under a plate on top of two trays laden with dishes full of fruit. Her eyes darted around the silent, darkened kitchen as if afraid of someone barging in at any moment. “Go quickly to the East tower,” she urged in her timid voice, ushering them forward. “’Is ‘ighnesses will want their evening snack soon,” she remarked as coolly as she would to two servants.

“Thank you,” Jessica said, saluting her by bringing a closed fist across her chest. The young woman did the same, and then Andrew and Jessica grabbed the trays with the concealed keys and hustled rapidly out of the large, kitchen door.

The passageways into which they hustled were made of large stones, smooth and polished like marble. There was a slight coolness to the air, and a vague scent of stuffy, musty smoke wafted to them from various rooms where their occupants were doubtlessly smoking pipes. Luckily, as they drew closer to the East tower, they ran into no one, and any guards that they chanced to cross were hopelessly drunk. It was beginning to seem as if no one would notice them at all as they wound up the final staircase toward the sleeping chambers of the king and his son.

Then Jessica rounded a corner and her breath caught in her throat. Two guards paced across the entrance to the narrow hall lined with doors that she needed to enter. Andrew glanced at her and then motioned for her to proceed forward. Her breath still frozen inside her, she stiffly approached the men. The guards stopped and stood erect upon seeing the two servants approaching.

“Halt. What businesses have you here?” questioned one of them. He had a big, red beard that obscured his mouth. Andrew didn’t move.

Jessica swallowed hard and replied evenly in the accent of most of the maids and servants, “The evenin’ snack for the king an’ ‘is son.” She smiled slightly, trying to appear as innocent and naive as she possibly could.

“I don’t recall him ordering anything,” the other guard, with thick, brown hair remarked. Panic welled up inside Jessica as she struggled to keep a calm countenance. “Now is when it matters,” she thought to herself.

Jessica leaned in toward the one with brown hair and whispered with a grin, “It’s unofficial. Cook’s request. She noticed ‘is majesties lookin’ sullen and stressed as of late, and thought some food might do ‘em some good.” The brown-haired guarded looked to the red-bearded one, who shrugged. The small girl seemed sincere enough, with her enchanting smile and her pleading eyes.

“You’re right – they’ve both seen happier days. Tread carefully,” advised the brown-haired guard.

“Thank you, sir,” Jessica said softly, dipping into a small curtsey and waiting until Andrew had bowed his head respectfully before walking past them and into the hallway ahead. Once they had turned a corner, she released a shaky breath and closed her eyes.

“You did fine,” Andrew reassured her. They continued down the hall until they got to the two doors opposite each other with jewels in their hinges and adorning the stone wall around them. There was a guard stationed between the two, but he had long since fallen asleep with his back against the wall, an empty mug nearby. Jessica and Andrew moved the plates from their position on the trays and grabbed the keys. They turned their backs to each other, each stuck his own key into its appropriate lock, and on the whispered count of three, they turned their handles and stepped inside their rooms.

Jessica hastily closed the door behind her and placed the tray of food on a side table. There were many elements to be noted in the magnificent room, such as the extravagant silk curtains, the mahogany side tables and bookcases, the elaborate portraits of past rulers staring down at her with cruel, condemning eyes, the fireplace’s ruddy glow, and the large stained-glass window in the eastern wall where light could stream in and illuminate the room with the rising sun.

All this was irrelevant compared to the large, canopy bed in the center of the room and the figure gently pulsating with breath sleeping inside it. The prince was covered except for his head in thick, puffy fabric that rose and fell slightly with each breath he took. Silently, she slipped over to the head of the bed and pulled out one of her knives. His body wasn’t as long as his bed and she pondered if the rumors were true that the prince was, indeed, a young one – perhaps even her own age.

Jessica sighed softly to herself. Well…it was now or never. Time to take the leap of faith. Or, rather, the stab…

Ch. 1 - The Plot

2009-07-20T19:42:00.001-07:00

Alright, um, ya know how I start stuff and never finish it? Well, if anyone's interested, here's the first part of a story I'll probably never resume.

Jessica’s pale, white fingers grabbed the handle of the dagger and thrust it into her boot. Reaching out to grab a knife in her left hand, her right opened up a pocket in which to hide it. Smoothing the crease in her belt a moment later, she stood erect in front of a cracked mirror and examined herself. She looked innocent enough. The reflection staring back at her was clothed in stealthy boots, cotton britches, a dark brown shirt, and a large, cloth belt. None of her five weapons were visible. Donning a simple frock, she was pleased it covered the clothes underneath. The simple maid’s clothes obscured her normal outfit well. Distractedly, she grabbed a band of cloth lying on the old table and tied up her golden hair. Her brown eyes stared back at her from the mirror. Daring her to carry out what she was about to do. The image before her seemed daring, bold, and confident – the mask behind which a small, scared little girl hid.

A knock sounded from the wooden door, and she slid the dagger out of her boot and held it warily behind her back. A few seconds later, it quickly opened and a man with a round face poked his head in. “It’s time,” he stated in a voice higher than one would expect for his bulky appearance. He popped out as quickly as he had popped in.

Jessica let out an uneasy breath and stowed the dagger back into her boot. Glancing over herself once more in the mirror, she strode confidently out into the corridor outside of her room. The hallway was small and poorly lit, and she was thankful when she emerged from it into the main room of the tavern. The only candles lit in the room rested on top of the center table: there were only five people in the room, including herself. Almost all the other occupants had gathered around the table upon which rested various parchments and maps. One lone figure sat positioned at the window, dutifully keeping watch for anyone on the street outside.

Jessica marched over to the table and bent over the papers like those surrounding her. On her left was the inn keeper with the round face who had summoned her. He looked flushed and excited, and sweat dribbled down the sides of his forehead. A large hand waved over the map of the castle, belonging to a tall gentleman across from her.

“Jessica and Andrew, there are a series of tunnels connecting all the rooms of the palace with each other. There is a separate tunnel that leads to the woods surrounding the castle that you can take into its heart.” He pointed to an “x” on the map. “It’s too small for any of our other men to fit in; otherwise we wouldn’t rely on children.” Jessica inwardly bristled. She and Andrew were almost eighteen. They weren’t children anymore. Although, they were the smallest in the resistance. “If you take this tunnel here,” the man continued, unaware of Jessica’s annoyance, “You’ll end up in the kitchen. Once you’re inside, our inside man will meet you there and give you the keys to the chambers.”

A young man on her right asked, “We have a man on the inside? Why can’t he do the job?” His hazel eyes were narrowed suspiciously.

“We need someone on the inside with a clean slate to cover your tracks. He has to be trustworthy in order to belay suspicions that may arise concerning us. Also, if he were to get caught, we’d lose our only spy on the inside,” the man explained, his voice rumbling out and filling the empty room. His dark eyes met each of their faces from underneath thick, black eyebrows. The young man nodded, his brown hair shifting slightly with the motion. The older man resumed his topic with just as much urgency in his voice as before.

“Once you have the keys, you’ll have to enter quietly and carefully into the east tower, where both your targets will be sleeping. Our man reports the guards to be repeatedly drunk, but they are stationed frequently here, here, and here.” The man pointed to various spots on the map. Jessica’s stomach felt uneasy, and it flipped over restlessly as the hour grew nearer and nearer. “If you succeed in eliminating your targets, exit the same way you entered.” She felt lightheaded. It all sounded so simple yet so risky…she had never taken on a challenge this big before. Sure, she had killed before, but this…She focused on portraying a calm, determined countenance.

“You two cannot fail,” the man said in a serious tone. His eyes locked on Jessica’s, and then on the young man’s. “Our cause is riding on you.” Straightening up, he brought a closed fist across his chest. The other members assembled around him mimicked his motion.

“All clear,” the figure at the window reported. The young man approached her and her dark eyes met his.

“Ready, Andy?” she asked. He nodded confidently. They each grabbed one of the hooded cloaks hanging by the front door and slid it over their heads. Andrew opened the door and stepped out into the street, the setting sun lighting up his angular face for a moment before he disappeared. Jessica cast one last look around those gathered in the dusty, old tavern. They all looked edgy except for the tall man. His features had settled into a hard, calm emotion. As if he was strong. Like a boulder in the sea refusing to be moved. She swallowed hard, hoping she would see them again.

Jessica stepped out onto the street and followed Andrew down a side alley. There was a slight breeze. A cold front was coming in with the night. Their footsteps sounded hollow when they ran down the empty back street. Unconsciously, Jessica found herself studying Andrew.

He was short for his age, but still taller than she. His build was toned, with broad shoulders but little mass. His skin was tanned, that which she could see from under his cloak and clothes. For as long as she had known him, she had always wondered if he was a little bit oriental, as his dark hair and eyes would suggest. As if he could sense her looking at him, he turned his head toward her.

“What?” he asked, slowing to a stop. The sun was now facing away from them, and the chill caused Jessica to pull her cloak tighter around herself. The lack of light in the street made her uneasy.

“Can you do this?” she asked, bluntly.

“What do you mean?” he asked, confused.

Her anxious eyes roamed the street, cautiously scanning for anyone who would watch them. “You know…” she started, convinced for the moment that no one was eavesdropping. “Kill the king.”

Andrew stared at her for a few moments, his lips pressed into a tight line. “Now’s not the time for second thoughts, Jess,” he warned softly.

“I know! I’m not-” Jessica checked her rising voice and resumed in a lower tone, “I’m not having second thoughts. It’s just…this is big.”

He nodded slowly. “It is big, and that’s why you have to have your heart in this. This is everything the resistance is fighting against; the king has made this kingdom a ruin and it’s time someone did something about it.” Andy’s restless eyes scouted out the path ahead, observing every detail and calculating it in that clever head of his. “Once the king and his son are out of the way, the people can finally have things their way. We could start our own republic. Just think of it, Jess – all of us in the resistance would be head of it all!”

Swallowing nervously, Jessica allowed the vision to play before her eyes. There she sat, next to the tall man and Andy, along with forty or so other men and women, all dedicated to their cause. As she began to speculate how she would feel at that moment, Andy shifted and began running again.

“Come on,” he called, “We’re going to be late.” Jessica let out a small breath and followed behind her friend. The doubts still plagued her mind, and she wondered why now, of all times, she was feeling so uncertain. It was like jumping out of a window and then wondering if the ground would still be there when you landed.

Washington, DC!

2009-07-13T18:33:00.000-07:00

Well, we're in Washington DC! :) This city is BEAUTIFUL, but there is NO PARKING ANYWHERE!!! But i'm not driving so whatever. Oh well. >:( We went to a LOT of museums, but my favorites were the Newseum and the Wax museum.

{How else could you explain these?}

{Johnny Depp and Me. ... he's less piratey in person.}

{Will Smith and Me. Yeah, we're like homies now.}

{And, somehow, Michaela and Miley Cyrus got tight or something...friends for life.}

{But that was before we found out Michaela was the long-lost granddaughter of the Kennedy's...}

So, anyway, we're having an awesome time in DC. My dad is critiquing everything I write over my shoulder, so if I say something weird or ... weird ... it's his fault. Along with hairless chihuahuas and global warming. Lol. ANYWAYS!!!!! We went around DC on our own and went to Smithsonian museums and all kinds of cool stuff. Also, we went on a night tour of the DC monuments, and here are some of the few pictures that turned out semi-ok from all those experiences. ;P

{National Cathedral; I know, I know, it looks like the building Quasimodo rings the bell of...but it's not.}
{West Side of the Berlin Wall; on display in the Newseum - best museum ever-}

{The Capitol building}

{The Lincoln Memorial @ niiiightttt!}

{Library of Congress. :) Though a lot of pictures weren't allowed, and someone *cough* -Dad- didn't want me taking so many pictures...}

Tomorrow we're leaving for Hershey Pennsylvania. Hershey. As in... chocolate. *grin* mmm...this is going to be AWESOME. So, hopefully, more pics to come, unless I eat so much chocolate that i die...in which case...um...no pictures. Sorry. CIAO and have good weeks!!
~ Cap'n Bonnie

MoonLight

2009-07-11T16:52:00.000-07:00

I was feeling inspired, so I decided to try writing two almost-identical poems and twisting the words slightly for the sole purpose of creating two completely different moods with only a few word changes. So i think between the two, there's only 11 words that changed. I HOPE they create different feelings...so...here they are. Enjoy.

Poem 1

The moon shines softly on the street.
The drums emit a cheerful beat.
Old people move their aching feet,
In the light of the rising moon.

Young and old dance in the crowd
That beckons to the poor, the proud.
Small voices laugh, and echo loud,
In the light of the wavering moon.

The past is forgotten in merry song.
No one is condemned for doing wrong.
The time for dance lasts very long
In the light of the dying moon.

Poem 2
The moon shines softly on the street.
The drums emit a mournful beat.
Old skeletons move their aching feet,
In the light of the rising moon.

Young and old mourn in the crowd.
That beckons to the poor, the proud.
Small voices cry, and echo loud,
In the light of the wavering moon.

The past is forgotten in morbid song.
All are condemned for doing wrong.
Your time for life does not last long
In the light of the dying moon.

Days ... 4 - 7 ... I think... COLONIAL WILLIAMSBURG

2009-07-08T17:39:00.000-07:00

Williamsburg is a town in Virginia where they re-enact colonial times! it's really really cool, and you can walk around and interact with say blacksmiths, bakers, and candlestickmakers. Just kidding I didn't see any candlestick makers...but it was still really coll!! Here, lemme show you.

This is a bedroom in a tavern.

A random house thing in a street...

The back of a silversmith's shop.

Michaela, in a "woman's hat"

*grin* I bought-ed it. Tis me tricorn pirate 'at.

And...ladies and gentlemen, I give you "Bonnie in a bonnet".

I tried to make this pic of a prison like eerie-ily lighted...but I failed. Sorry.

A harpsichord! NOT a piano. But still pretty cool! It's like really high-pitched, and narrow! And there's no pedals.

Ciao for now! ~ Cap'n Bonnie Spinner!

Days 1 and 2

2009-07-03T20:56:00.000-07:00

Imma keep it brief and mainly pics. We drove through a few states and arrived in Georgia, where we're now staying with some family friends until Sunday when we're going to Augusta, Georgia. We got up early the first day, I got starbucks, we got to their house, and we been chillin' ever since. Enjoy the pics and leave comments if'n you're so inclined! :) Ciao.
~ Bon Bon

{the road goes ever on and on...}

{you have NO idea how many times it took me to take this pic and get it to turn out right...}

{*looks distractedly out the car window, thoughts gently merging together into a big blob of mental laziness in response to the car's gentle hum as the need to nap stealthily approaches...*}

{the view from our car...the windshield cracked, btw, so we're a bit concerned and wondering if we should get it fixed here or risk it cracking and going somewhere else...}

{the sunset, signifying the closing of a day... the beginning of a new legion of memories}

Brief Update

2009-06-25T06:54:00.000-07:00

Hey y'all, whatsup? How y'all doin? Hm...I can post pics for visual interest....... *grin* Even though the pics will have nothing whatsoever to do with what I'm saying...

{hibiscus flower in me backyard...yea}

As some of you may know, Charity is @ Nationals for gymnastics this week, so if you could just keep her in her prayers so that she and the rest of the team are safe and that they would be able to perform to the best of their abilities, that would be great. I doubt she'll read this, but it's nice to pray for her anyway.

{converse - bowling, end of the year}

Also, I just wanted to tell y'all my family is leaving for Washington DC on July 2nd and will be gone until the 20th, so that's like...3 weeks, which is pretty dang close to a month...a month in which I will not see y'all. :( So Imma miss y'all and try to get y'all some souvenirs. ;) unless I run out of money, or if I have to sacrifice your gift to man-eating bananas, if they randomly attack me. I'm sure you'd understand, right?

{el piano [betcha didn't know I spoke Spanish, eh?] in mi casa}

So, in short, for those of you who'll see me on Sunday, it'll be my last for like three weeks, so don't cry. ;P And for the rest of my blogging friends, I hope we can get together when I get back. I'll try to post pics and blogs of what's going on in DC, since I'll be taking my new cam {which all of these cool pics came from} and we'll probably be taking @ least one computer. I'll miss you guys so much! Don't do anything exciting while I'm gone!! Just kidding. Alright this post is long and pointless enough. CIAO! {and never have nababas and peanutbutter for breakfast!}

{my monkeybars. I used to sit and play up there when I was little, or if I needed to think I'd climb up there...or if I was mad and needed time by myself. Monkeybars were great, you know. But they lie! There are NO MONKEYS up there!!!}

~ Cap'n Bonnie

Game Night, anyone?

2009-06-13T13:38:00.001-07:00

OK GUYS GUESS WHAT!!

No, seriously, guess.

Ok, fine, I'll tell you... mom says it's cool if we have a game night @ my place. Feel free to bring ur own games {wii games included} but we have a lot. Also, we might have movies or something. Idk. Most assured we'll have pizza and some other snacks and such.

Place: my house

When: Does this friday work for y'all? If not, how about the 27, 29, or 30th?

Time: Around 7 to probably like 11

Also, Marissa, Chair, and moogie if she can come are welcome to spend the night for convenience. :) Let me know what y'all think! :)

Buttons, the Knight

2009-03-26T20:13:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time and place, there was a seven year old tabby cat named Buttons who lived in a nice house with lots of people who loved him and bored him to tears. It was a very boring life for him, but not one that he didn't enjoy, considering there was always food available, and he LOVED food. He was, indeed, eighteen pounds, and that is quite large for a cat.

One day - it was a Monday - Buttons heard a scuttling noise coming from the kitchen. Only the tall man and himself were presently at home, so he decided to investigate. He began to lumber toward the noise, when he was distracted by none other than the food bowl! That would never do; he must relieve himself of temptation, like the good soldier that he was.

"Buttons! Look - a rat!" exclaimed a voice from behind him. The tall man was there. Dang it... Buttons snarled and the man walked away; nonetheless, he turned around. A mouse scurried out from behind one of the lowest kitchen cabinets. The tiny rodent stopped before Buttons' nose and dropped a small piece of cheese it had stolen.

"EEKKKK!" screamed the mouse. What large, threatening teeth the monster mouse had! It must be at least three sizes larger than normal mice. Buttons tripped over his paws.

"Ahhh!" he yelled.

"EEEPPPP!" shrieked the terrified mouse, staring into what he thought was his doom.

"AHHHHH!" echoed Buttons. The mouse stood erect and placed one tiny paw on his hip.

"You're new at this, aren't you?" it questioned. One eyebrow was raised judiciously on his tiny features. It crawled toward the shaking trash can Buttons had hidden himself behind. A loud, annoying sound made the tabby cautiously peek his head around the garbage can. There was a whole army of mice! And they were...laughing at him!

Buttons' bushy tail suddenly became rigid and stiff. His whiskers and ears pressed flat against his head. His thin mouth curled back into a snarl. "Alright...so I'm not the bravest cat around," he hissed, trying to sound threatening. His efforts to sound dignified and intimidating were useless; everything he said seemed to come out with an undesirable squeak.

The first mouse he had seen gained composure of himself and he stepped forward courageously. "My name is Herald. I think we might be able to help you here, Buttons, if you're willing to make a deal." Buttons' emerald eyes widened.

"You know my name already?" he whispered, astounded. These were no ordinary monster-mice mocking him mercilessly. They were mystical, mysterious monster-mice mocking him mercilessly! He closed his gaping mouth and tucked his furry tail under him, sitting erect.

"Should we tell him his name is on his water bowl?" whispered a random mouse to his friend. His friend shook his head with a small giggle.

"For years, mice have been persecuted by cats everywhere. If we can teach you to be brave and strong, will you stick up for us to other cats?" Herald proposed.

"Yes, Mystic Mouse Man," Buttons said solemnly.

~ Capt. Bonnie
to be continued...when I don't have to go to bed...

Either Or

2009-03-21T22:07:00.000-07:00

A man stands at the end of a red carpet. Waiting.
Pews line either side of the pathway, the aisle empty, the seats filled with friends
and family for this momentous day.
The ceremony begins, as do gentle flows of tears
as she floats down the aisle slowly.
It's time to move on. A new page has been turned, the rest of the book yet unread.
A black limo arrives, beckoning to
The two bodies, now one living.
They arrive at a place with overwhelming silent serenity.
He lays her down to rest, heart filled with emotion
as quiet peace engulfs them both.

Wedding?
Or
Funeral?

FYI

2009-03-16T19:43:00.000-07:00

Just fyi {fo y'all's infos}, there's a free Michael W. Smith concert @ the chickfila on Westheimer and Kirkwood. Starts at 12. It's on Wednesday. This week. ... yeah. I'm going. If anybody out there likes Michael W. Smith...you should come. *nodding slowly* Yup.
That's about it...
CIAO! And DON'T EAT THAT!
~ Capt. Bonnie

A BAD LIST

2009-02-25T17:14:00.000-08:00

Or, rather, a bad list of things. I mean a list of bad things. I mean...look, here's the list:

1. Never-ever-ever-EVER try to empty out a bowl of soup...in a school sink. BAD IDEA!

2. Never ever use your sister's volleyball while playing next to a relatively busy street...{no worries; it only has a few skid marks}.

3. Don't slam someone's locker shut unless you know for an absolute fact that they don't have the manpower to totally tackle you to the ground.

4. Want to know what's really bad? Your breath. :D! jk...take a mento from the mento jar on your way out.

5. Never type a very important assignment the night before its due date and forget to save.

6. Never laugh at your own jokes...there's no particular scenario for this, because it's just something you should never do. ... Ever

7. NEVER Eat 6 pieces of pizza before going to a 2-hour volleyball practice.... that was painful.

8. NEVER try out a new nickname on the first person who walks in the door; it's very likely they're not the person you were intending the nickname to be... especially if you shout out "Hey, D," and their name is Priscilla...

9. NEVER EVER EVER EVER under ANY circumstances should you EVER take one of your closest friends on your 4th driving lesson. That just SPELLS "hit-the-curb-and-try-not-take-out-a-mailbox".

10. NEVER hesitate while jumping or about to jump, especially if there's something particularly nasty below you. You'll regret it, and so will your shoes.

11. Never assume that since the eggs look relatively cooked they will be safe to eat.

12. Don't buy those valentines stickers and stick them on your FACE! You'll regret it for the next two weeks when you'll have to explain to people what "that ugly, bruise-like, welt thing" on your cheek is.

13. Never give Chair a sugary substance. Never.

14. Don't get off of a bus at any time without checking that the people you are traveling with are also off...especially if you're nine years old and in London, England. That is VERY bad.

15. Never break your bed. I know, I know, it's weird; but it's only weird till you sit down with an unnecessary bounce and then it all comes crashing down!

16. Never stay up till two watching vids and talking about serious stuffs with a friend while being extraordinarily loud on a school night...you'll regret the consequences.

16. And lastly, but not leastly, in fact, probably the most number one thing you NEVER want to do is: No matter how many times you hear them talking about how unfair it is that the office will take up your phone and look through it, do NOT lock it. You know why? Because your phone is mean and will undoubtedly lock you out. And that is very, very, very BAD.

*sighs and lowers head* ARG!!!!!! Curse you, t-mobile!!! er....it wasn't really their fault... CURSE YOU, OWN STUPIDITY!!!!

~ Bonnie

{mento jar with sign "take for minty freshness"}

New Post

2009-02-13T17:48:00.000-08:00

I figured it was time for a new post.
But, I'd rather hear about you and I'm sure you'd rather tell me about you than listen to me blab on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on until you're asleep, drooling on the keyboard, and electricuting your skull. Here are my questions to you, dear reader, for anyone who is reading this must be pretty dedicated, and for that, I value you. But that's not the only reason I value you! Unless, of course, I've never met you...in which case, this will be quite interesting. Erm...am i making sense to anyone other than myself, here?

Ok, firstly, I know I'm a nosy person, so these questions might be kind of...frank...so don't feel inclined to answer a question you don't want to; just skip over it. Or, if you're like me, just don't leave a comment at all. :p But, without further adeu {did I spell that right?}, here are my questions to you: {I rhymed!!}

1. Have you ever counted something right before you've fallen asleep, and did it help you to fall asleep?

2. What is the strangest/most realistic/scariest dream you've ever had?

3. What do you find yourself thinking about most at night/what is the one thing you find yourself most often thinking about when you have nothing to do?

4. What's your favorite brand of cereal?

5. Given the choices, which would you choose: a leisure trip to Paris, or a mission trip to Mexico?

6. What's the highest elevation you've ever been, where were you, and how did you feel?

7. What do you incorporate with the color red?

8. What would you do if you were the only person left in the world?

9. Has a book ever made you cry? What book was it?

10. How would you describe yourself in five words, three colors, two objects, and one fish?

11. Did you know that it's gramatically impossible to describe yourself with a fish because it's not an adjective?

~ Captain Bonnie Spinner

Erm...a poem?

2009-01-22T21:10:00.000-08:00

Well would you look here-

You’ve written a rhyme,

Explaining why

You have no more time.

Suppose you shall show them

A typical day

Because you lack all other

Good words to say.

Don’t fear the silence

That thrives in the car.

Relax and chill out;

Your school isn’t far.

Walk up to class,

As the ringing bell ends.

Nod your head and wave

To your happy friends.

Meet the girl’s eyes,

Then sigh; look away –

Long ago you ran out

Of the right words to say.

Still softly recite

Your silent prayer.

Although she’s grown distant,

She is still there.

Stop looking through

The window’s glass.

Take time to note changes

Going on in your class.

Spanish is done;

Your morning’s half over,

But Mrs. C’s mad,

And none know what drove her.

Family Life skills

Is done in a blink.

Get up, slowly now,

And take a long drink.

Rest; fall asleep

In Biology.

Hope and dream

That the teacher won’t see.

Talk with your homeroom

At lunch, while you eat.

Then finish your homework

That’s still incomplete.

The next two classes

Pass by very slow.

What were they about?

You really don’t know.

English arrives;

You guess life’s not fair,

Or, at least, so it seems,

If your name is Jane Eyre.

Rush back to homeroom,

Drop off your things.

Now head to the room where

The choir simply sings.

Don’t dream about summer,

Just don’t dream at all,

For now you must go

Manage basketball.

Two hours go by.

Homework? Still more.

That’s all shoved aside

As you watch twenty-four.

You turn on the TV,

“Very stable, well done,”

It compliments you.

Isn’t wii fit great fun?

You had Marial over;

Y’all made woopie cake.

Though somehow you’re grounded

From her till Spring break.

Look Forward

To Spirit Week -

Who can be the biggest freak?

You must go to your room

So you read or you play.

Then you open the Word,

And you listen and pray

For the girl that you saw

And the boy in that chair,

And the ones you see hurting,

Because someone should care.

Listen to music,

Leave your conscious world,

And watch as the dream boat

Drifts off, sails unfurled.

Things that should be stabbed by a nine inch, serrated knife

2009-01-03T15:57:00.000-08:00

1. Math

2. Comcast

3. The level "Maelstrom" in Pirates of the Carribbean 3 wii.

But Captain Bonnie, I thought you LOVED pirate stuff. Yeah, I do. But when you've spent two hours on the same level, growling at your wii remote because it won't move fast enough, it gets a little redundant. The level starts out with you as Elizabeth on a ship, and you have to kill a bunch of undead fish-things before you press "c" and go to the other ship. Well, I was too busy trying to bust open them annoying little boxes with money in them {I'm in the middle of a fight - why do I want money? Can't you give me one of them turkey things that gives me energy and helps me not to DIE?!?!} and didn't see the pirates coming across the gang plank. Death number 1 out of like five billion, two million, three thousand, twenty two. To make matters worse, Calypso is being mean and deciding to shower you with lightning. SPECIFICALLY YOU. Oh, and the fish people are throwing lighted expolosives at you. Charming game, eh?

But wait. There's more. More, Captain Bonnie? Yes, most-likely-bored reader, MORE. Once you get to the other ship, you have to fight MORE fish-people because if you don't, your oh-so-valuable crewmate person {who has been fighting ONE single fish-person while you slave away at five at one time} will die. You thought lightning bolts were bad? Try hurricanes! And the worst part is, they're completely unpredictable!! So if you die and think "Hm, last time, the first hurricane was over by that barrel thing" and you come back to life and stand AWAY from the barrel things, it's not necessarily true that you'll be guaranteed SAFE. In fact, knowing the evilness of this level, it's probably more LIKELY to hit you!

*slams head on desk* I. Hate. Not. Knowing! I hate how I have to rely on something I can't control to whirl around my enemies and not me. It makes me mad, too. I have been sitting here, trying not to yell at the tv for a looonnnggg time, and I'm pretty sure if them fishies could see my face, they'd be running. Ok...that's basically all I had to say. Pretty worthless unless you, too, are experiencing "my-undead fish-people-aren't-dying-I-only-have-one-turkey-left-and-here-comes-a-hurricane" syndrome. Or if you want someone else's misfortunes to mock. Or if you're one of those people who dream about how great wiis are. ... sorry. They're pretty cool. Really fun. It's just sometimes mine doesn't move the way I think it should.

Anyways.......Ciao and have better technological difficulties than I! No. Scratch that. Don't have any technical difficulties at all. And that's an order! *waves sword around dramatically for emphasis*

~ Captain Bonnie Spinner
PS. I think my arms and feets are going to fall off from swinging and stomping so much...but on the upside...maybe I'll get muscles!!!! :D

Daily Revelation

2008-12-20T19:51:00.000-08:00

For anyone who reads this...I just wanted to share something with y'all that I think I'm slowly starting to learn. I've been thinking a bit about people in general, life choices, personalities, and how things change in the course of life...and somewhere in the course of my random thought processes, I got to wondering and connecting thoughts, at least about my own life. And I think somewhere in there I had a revelation. It went something like this:

Will I let others define me? > Shouldn't I define myself before they do and stay true to who I am? > Who am I? > Shouldn't I strive to be like Christ in all ways? > In order to strive to be like Christ, wouldn't you have to know who He is and what He's like? > If you wanted to know who He is and what He's like, shouldn't you first know Him? {by reading His word}

I don't know...but it just kind of hit me today how important a relationship with Christ is, especially for Christians. In order to "know" Him, I have to spend time with Him and want to be with Him. And then maybe...maybe on my way to being marvelled constantly by who HE IS, I'll find out more and more who I am. {Which is small and insignificant.}

I've heard it said before, "A woman should be so lost in Christ that a man should seek Christ to find her", but I think that applies here too, in a way. Well, that's my two cents, if you will. Take it or leave it. I'm done with life lessons. For now. I'll never be done with life lessons. Maybe I'll be done blogging about life lessons...the lessons themselves should never end. ... Then I'd be dead. And they'd be death lessons. And that sounds morbid. ...or maybe I should just stop rambling.

Ciao, and God bless you!
~ Bonnie

Thanksgiving!

2008-11-27T10:05:00.000-08:00

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

I mean it, y'all! I walked down the stairs this morning at eleven something and I went straight to the kitchen to discover my mom playing Christmas music and the candles lit with a great big turkey ready to be cooked sitting on the counter. Isn't it a cool feeling when you know Christmas is coming? I already have that mindset...it's something to do with the air, the candles, and no school. I love it! Eep!

Coming back to Thanksgiving...here's a tag for anyone who still reads my blog. {Dedicated readers, I applaud you. You should get...erm...mini turkeys.}
List ten things/places/people/occurances/events/anything else you're thankful for! I'll go first.

1. The fact that I live in America, where we're free. Woopie.

2. The fact I go to a Christian, private school. I give thanks for the people there as well as the general environment.

3. My church. I'm thankful I still go there, and after everything that ever happened, it's still my family.

4. My family. Without them, I know I wouldn't be who I am today, and that's something I will always be thankful for.

5. My friends. If I'd put them at the top of the list, I'd probably seem clingy. jk! But I love my friends. Through my life, though it's short and only beginning, I've met so many people that mean SO much to me. I can't even put it in words. And I KNOW for a fact that without them, something would have happened and a whole chain of events would have been effected...like in Back to the Future. My friends are such a blessing, and I can honestly say I'd die for any one of them. I love y'all so much!

6. Music. There's a certain feeling of ... I don't know how to describe it besides "awesomeness"... when you realize everything you're feeling/experiencing can be expressed in words and rhythm that others can relate to and hear and sing. When music rings out and voices join in to words you can feel so strongly...it gives me a shivery feeling; I don't know about you. {I guess the same can be said about words and writing.}

7. Grace. That should probably be at the top of the list. I'm thankful that we're not all drowning in a dying world, and that God loved us enough to send us His only Son to take our place and punishment.

8. Internet. ... that's probably pretty bad...but I am thankful for it! Without it, I wouldn't have met Marina, Render, Cless, Levi, and numerous others. Also, it's good for news and stuff. *laugh* The news...ha...nah, that's good for my geography project that I'm procrastinating on.

9. Food. Do you realize how BORING life would be without the flavors and varieties of food? I mean, how amazing is it when you bite into a chocolate-covered cake? Or ice cream? Or ohmygoodness a chicken fried steak with mashed potatoes, mac-n-cheese, a roll, and a coke? God could have designed us so that we didn't need food, but I'm SO glad He didn't!

10. My room. Or a house in general. Basically, my own space to be completely alone with my thoughts, God, and a notebook. With music always playing. And friends' faces lining the wall with the window. And a nice, comfy bed, with people's notes and signatures grafittied on the sides. And all my books. Mmm...isn't that a great thing? To have your own place to simply think?

Ok, well, I've just wasted a good percentage of your time, so go waste mine! Write your own! {jk; anything y'all say wouldn't waste my time. :D}

~ Bonnie Spinner

Shoutout

2008-11-22T11:57:00.001-08:00

This is a shoutout to a friend of mine who had a birthday a few days ago, on the 20th, to be exact. Shawn, if you're reading this, I hope it makes you smile. You are amazing!! If we lived closer, I'd hitch-hike a ride to your house and throw you a surprise birthday party! *hugs* You have always made me feel like I have a friend I can talk to, and I love chatting with you about everything! :) I'd give you a great big fuzzy sock if I could, but I'll guess I'll have to wait and give it to you next summer.

Happy Happy Happy belated birthday, my dear horse-riding, fun-loving, sweet-sounding friend!

{A cup of chocolate-chocolate ice cream for you and a white rose, because you make me smile like chocolate does and you always help me to see the beauty in life...like a rose. Even if it smells like a flower. ;)}

First attempted Christmas Poem

2008-11-19T05:28:00.000-08:00

Hm...it appears Christmas this year will come with many poems, including one Render and I accidently wrote...Render will be black, and I'll be green

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, nothing was stirring, not even a mouse…..
But the cat was awake, and hungrily roaming, for something to place in his mouth that was foaming.
And the little Dog laughed to see such sport, for he alone had nothing to contort…
The humans were snoring inside of their beds, and their dreams became twisted inside of their heads...
They dreamed odd things, and of lame pleasure, like running in circles or killing things with feathers. A monkey screamed, Santa felt under attack, because of loss of balance which is something old people lack.
The war had begun, and none were the wiser; for Mr. Bill Gates had become a poor miser.
The portals were opened, and worlds were reversed; radio hosts stopped talking and mimes conversed.
Conversing Mimes? One might think that ridiculous, but as you say it, it seems quite hilarious.

A jumping turtle ran faster than light. That monkey and Santa got in a big fight.

Help came for Santa after he threatened to croak. It was too late, his heart had sadly broke.

All the good children, both good girls and good boys, sat around a Christmas tree, without nice presents or toys.

Render sat, laughing hysterically, that all these people took Santa Literally.

But Bonnie said, “Santa isn’t fake, How couldn’t you believe for heaven’s sake?”

Thanks, Render. Hope that made you laugh, smile, scratch your head, or douse yourself in vegimate and enter a kangaroo-boxing match...cuz I know tha'd make me smile.

Ciao and have a good day! ~ Bonnie

Randomness

2008-11-09T15:27:00.000-08:00

Ok...here I go...attempting to be my random self again. More up-beat this time, though. Hm...I want a bagel. And chili. I hope that's for dinner. Oh! I burned my tongue a few days ago. Now the tastebuds are all white and everything. It's kind of weird...feels weird whenever I rub my tongue under my teeth.

I'm basketball manager! And we had a game Friday and a tourny Saturday. We lost. :( But I had so much fun managing with my senior friend. She's going to five me her volleyball shoes, if she remembers. Woop! That'll be cool. Anyway, I was having so much fun marking stats with my mechanical pencil. I felt so confident and important and unofficially official. I was keeping stats...from the bleachers. Well, not bleachers. They were like gigantic stairs. *wide eyes* They. Were. Awesome. You could lie down on one whole stair! It was really cool. We went to Subway as a team, too, and had fun there. :)

Hm...I think I should stroke my chin and try to look profound. :D Too bad you can't see me. But that might be kind of weird...cuz then you'd be a stalker. *alien music* Ok...I feel like if anyone is dedicated enough to read this weird post about me, I should do something for them...so...*throws a golden trophy at the first commenter* Congrads, you got the "coolest commenter with a golden trophy and a bruise on their head" award. :) Have fun. Let me know how much it's worth.

~ Bonnie

Fragments of a dicombobbled mind

2008-11-09T14:38:00.000-08:00

Confused. Tilted head. Contemplative. Happiness. Joy seen through another's eye. Appearance of one. Guilt. Sigh. Melting. More confusion. Regret. Wondering what words spoken shouldn't have been and what words unspoken should have.
Thoughtful eyes. Pursed lips. A knowledge of things to do, nagging the background of thoughts, like a timer ticking ready to go off. Dreams, thoughts, hopes, fears. Trying to meet standards not meant to be met. Chained by standards and expectations or the longing to fit in, to be someone. An underlying, rejected truth: to be someone, you shouldn't fit in. Judgement. Misspelled.

Apathy. Curiosity. What if? What now? Shackles of the world, of friends, of family. Tip-toing on broken glass. A longing just to do it because I can and not to care what anyone says. But once the moment is over... Rules. Meant to break? Meant to bend? Meant to chain? Mind. Meant for thinking. Fingers. Meant for writing. Chocolate. Meant for comfort. Legs. Meant for running.

Responsibilities...duties...things to do, read, write. Time. Time slips, fades, stands still for breathless moments in the corners of the mind's hopeful eye. Never. Pathes crossing and twisting. Friendships. Where they have been, how long they'll last, where they're going, how they started. Pain to watch, helplessly, as boats sink filled with those loved. Longing to tell them simple truths only they can discover for themselves. Want to be a friend. Just a friend. How to be a friend? I don't know. I don't know. Nothing. Anything. Everything. Circles, endless, like a DVD player stuck in fastforward. Sigh. Thoughts. Fragments. Notepad. Decipher it if you can. Take what you will. Clueless. Confused. But still...Happy to be human. Happy to be me. Are you? Retorical question. Your turn to think.

I hate Modays...

2008-10-27T20:00:00.000-07:00

I hate them because of reasons I love. Such as I have choir during study hall which means I get no work done and end up with a bunch of homework at the price of being able to sing without people "shushing" me during class. Then, after school, I hitch-hike a ride with a senior and go to b-ball practice and "manage" them, meaning I spend two hours pretending like I can play basketball. By this time, my homework still hasn't evolved into a superpowered paper that will finish itself. Darn. I guess evolutionists are still working on that. After that, I have exactly one hour to go home, eat dinner, and cram as much homework in as possible before I go on a two-hour tv marathon with Chuck and Heroes. It should be noted that it takes a good twenty to thirty minutes to actually GET home. So that leaves me around nine o' clock, still sweaty and with everything but Health to do.

Thus is why I didn't respond to any emails, phonecalls, or smoke signals today. Sorry. I'll catch up tomorrow and read the second half of my Biology assignment...

Oh. On the upside, I made up for those tests I failed in Biology by making a 99 on my 9-weeks test. :) Ok, enough celebrating. I shall now slide down into my chair, wish I was outside enjoying the cold night air, and wonder why they put tenths of fractions on gas prices.

OH! Ohhhh!!! One more thing. Today, dad and I were talking, and we've decided that as soon as it's physically possible, which means maybe in a few weeks, I can take drivers ed so that by the time I'm 15 I can get my permit. *excited squeal* Ok. Done with that. Ciao and have a better Moday!

Is it a plan?

2008-10-05T13:12:00.000-07:00

Alright y'all. Here's what Will and I thought up, so please tell us if it'll work.

Place: Will's house

Time: 6:30-10:30 at night

Date: October 11th {next Saturday}

What: old Twilight Zone marathon

I'm thinking we all get to Will's, have a fun time watching movies and all that, then when it gets late, the guys could sleep over at Will's house while Marina and Chair come over to my house and sleep over. My mom can get us all from his house to my house, so Marina and Chair can ride with me to my house. Ok, so that leaves everyone at two different locations come Sunday morning. How would y'all feel with coming to our church and then after going home? My mom could probably take Marina home, if her mom or dad doesn't want to come get her. Any thoughts/suggestions? Will this work? Marina, Chair, and the Moonarrows, is next Saturday coll? Please give us some feedback here.

Thanks. ~ Bonnie

Fish Camp

2008-10-01T16:41:00.000-07:00

Here's a brief run-through of the past two days...

Yesterday, all the fish had to carry around the Senior's books to their classes. My senior was one of the ones who kidnapped me, and I had to scream "MOVE!" to anyone in her way. Marial's made her excalaim, "All hail {enter senior name} the great!" at the snap of her fingers. That was fun.

Also, our class was SUPPOSED to wear orange, but we planned to all wear blue. We got "punished" and had to have x's drawn on our forehead and cardboard signs around our necks. That was less punishment than we thought we should get, but whatever.

We decorated our black t-shirts, which were all supposed to wear, and I got to do Marial's because she didn't want it. Let me tell you, that shirt was AWESOME. I didn't have a shirt until last night, because I forgot, so I went home and did mine....

Now...for today. Oh cheese...

Today was fishcamp...but fishcamp started at lunch. At lunch they were *record-scratch* Wait a second...let me start at the beginning and work my way up....

Ok, so I get out of the car this morning, with my gym bag, dressed in my "clean clothes". About five steps away from the car, I realize that I had forgotten my packpack. Ok...great...typical Bonnie move. I get into class and everyone's excited and wearing their t-shirts and all, and then I'm like, "Oh, Mrs.S? Can I change my shirt, because I was brainless and put 'Fish Camp '09 ' On my shirt...and it's 2008!!" So, I somehow got it to look kind of right. In short, my morning was just one of those "Yeah, I'm stupid, but who cares, because I'm happy and hyper and that's just the way I am, SO LOOK OUT SENIORS!" mornings...if you know what I mean. Any sane person doesn't know what I mean, but I'm not sane, so ha. ... ya know? <--that's for Rae Rae, if she ever reads my blog...

Ok. So we do Bible, somehow. Then at the end, Mrs.C comes in and tells us we'll be performing some football halfgame show like synchronized swimmers and we have to make up a routine. Uh....wow. It was completely CRAZY trying to get a group of freshman to do as much as TURN together. That's how Spanish class went. Next came Biology and Health. Now, Mrs.C is our Healthy and Bio teacher, and she also happens to in the seniors' homeroom. And, of course, we're the awesomest fishies ever, so in those classes, we cover the seniors' lockers with orange caution tape, ribbons with 'freshman' on them, stickers, balloons, caution tape, and pictures of fish. It was a work of art.

Word got around school FAST, and everyone came to admire our artwork. One senior {my senior book-carrying-person} was just like, "Ok...that's cool...you just wait till fish camp." Another charged me and nearly ran me over. Interestingly different reactions there.

Ok, now it's lunch. Oh cheese...so sometime during lunch we see two people from Student Council kidnap someone...then I walk with my friend Rae Rae and they obduct her too! I run to the classroom, where there's like 3 people, and tell them. We decide to hide. Me and my friend...uh...Winnie...yeah...Winnie...hide under the teacher's desk. A few seconds later, a senior barges in. They find us but they don't capture us, so we re-hide. Of course, then I pick a bad hiding spot and the people come for us and take me. *rolls eyes*

They took me behind the building where all the other captured people were. A senior dressed in purple sitting behind a table asked me, "Who is the 9, 008, 078, 563th person born?" I stared at him and replied, "Me!" He pounded a gavel into the table top and said, "You are guilty of being a fish!" I was lead behind him and had my face painted with gold and purple {school colors}. Then I got in line with the other fishes. Soon they had all of us and we watched as people tried to escape. That was like...the best part. Almost. Idk what the best part is, yet...

Once they had everyone, a senior announced what our first task was. We had to duck-walk down the deck, in front of all the school. {For those of you who don't know, duck walking is a kind of walk where you squat down and waddle that produces aching thighs.} Of course, we couldn't do it right, so halfway through they made us go back and start over.

After everyone was done, we headed over to the football field for a waterballoon toss. It was predictable but still unfair that the freshman had to use a dinky napkin to catch and toss with and the seniors got tablecloths. Even though we cheated, they still ended up winning, and they threw balloons at us. Yo, someone hit me in the eye so hard I thought I would go blind. No joke, true story.

I think then we headed over to the slab, behind which was a tarp with spriklers. It was wet and slippery. They gave us a rope and we played tug-a-war against the highschoolers. We broke two ropes and a hose, but hey, we were strong. When they finally gave us a thick rope, freshman conquered. Of course...when we didn't, we all slid across the wet piece of plastic, but that was fun.

Hm...what else did we do...oh yeah. Sometime during the day, we were on the field and we did relays, but the seniors won that too because everything in fish camp is rigged to make them win. We bought snowcones and hotdogs. YUM! Then we played football *makes face* But it was still funny. The seniors took off their flags but we got in trouble when we took ours off...go figure. Go fish. And then we did our little half-time dance thing. That was interesing...they made us do it twice because the first time we were too far away. Then we got punished and had to do more duck walk.

The grande finale was back at the wet tarp, where we got into lines {each line was a class} and the first person in each line would slip and slide onto the tarp and wrestle for a bar of soap. It was hilarious and so much fun to watch, as well as participate it. I didn't know people could fight so viciously until I saw our highschoolers fight over a bar of soap. Somehow I ended up getting some Freshman spirit award thingie. Guess what it was. A hat! :D They announced who was on student counsel. Then we had to dry off {which was impossible}, change into our clean clothes, and wait around till it was time to go home.

And that's about it. Ta ta for now, folks!

~ Captain Bonnie Spinner, a fish

First day of HIGHSCHOOL

2008-08-26T17:51:00.000-07:00

Hey! Ok, I'm really happy-hyper right now, so warning: extreme randomness may occur. This is probably going to be a long post, so if you don't read it all and just post a comment like "Gee. Great post. Thanks for sharing." I'll know you didn't read it all, but that's ok, because it's long. *stops rambling* Let me shtart from teh begginning: {yes, I meant to spell de vords vike dat}

I had a dream last night that for some strange reason I was late for the first day of school, and I got there at the nick of time and had to get the worst seat. For some reason, when I look back and try to remember what that was, the only thing that comes to mind is a seat in the front of the class squished between two suma wrestlers....that's a little weird....

So this morning I got up and answered like three texts {I missed Marial's wake up call because my phone was on vibrate~ HA!!!!} and soon we were on the way to school. We being myself, my dad who was driving, and our carpool person. I glance at the car's time and it reads 7:56 when we pull into the school's parking lot, which means we didn't have to run. However, we were still late and I STILL got a front-ish seat! AHH! But anyway, it was good being back with my peeps. We were all excited and wouldn't shut up. It's funny, because later this week, we'll probably be like "Uhhhhh....school......." but now we're all hyper. :D

When we got there, we went to the auditorium for a brief intro or whatever then we got our books for Spanish with our homeroom teacher. OOHH!!! Our room is the senior room, so we have LOCKERS! The only downside is we don't have our combos yet so whenever we closed them we realized we need to get a teacher to go open em again. :D See, this day we didn't DO anything really except for get our books and schedules and everything like that. Ok, then we went to um um um...oh! Health and Biology! Which is with Mrs. C from last year. They're back-to-back classes in the same class room. Then we went to ... hm .... where did we go after that? I really don't want to get up to look at my schedule...

I think we had lunch next. Ok, so we're officially highschoolers now, so we can sit outside on the deck. BOOYAH! We're all excited and everything, so we get our lunch boxes and food stuffs, open the door, and step outside to be blasted back by a wave of heat. Halfway into lunch we discovered sitting under the sun in black shirts when it's 96 degrees isn't a good idea and so we used our new roaming privileges.

We visited a few of our fellow highschoolers' rooms and eventually I stuck with a senior and my friend DJ. I had pulled this little crossword puzzle thing from her purse and was working furiously to figure it out as they walked around the deck, up to the office, and back again with me in tow. Soon the bell rang and the senior left and DJ went to advanced math.

Wait...I wasn't in advanced math....I was in Geography...I blinked and stared at my schedule, then had to ask someone for help, and we both glared at the schedule. The schedule claimed that Geography was in the advanced math class room at this time...but that couldn't be right....so where was I going? Eventually we figured out that we were reading the schedule wrong and I was in the class next door. I walked in to the cries of my last name {my nickname} and laughter. :D LOL!! It was so funny. I had to explain that I had gotten lost in my own school that I've been attending for - what - seven years? No. Nine years. {why did I say seven?} To make matters worse, the class was GEOGRAPHY...where you learn about maps....which help you NOT TO GET LOST. Lol, it was hilarious. :D Anyway...

Then came Algebra 1. Now. We had taken the first half of this book last year. A nice pace for me. Half a lesson each day. I'm slow in math...that was refreshingly helpful. Now our favorite math teacher has left *sobs* {we scared her away....} and we find out we're doing the whole book! All of it! Starting at the BEGINNING! Why? Because of some smart 8th graders who are taking the class. *banging head* ARG! Why they gotta be so smart, huh? I wasn't this smart...they shouldn't be. {jk} Anyway...we did little easy lesson one {just for that I'll probably miss like 5}, which she assigned odds to. Halfway through her lecture, when we were all working ahead, my friend who came back this year whose last year was 5th grade asks me for help on question 10.

"Uh...Garbanzo bean...we're doing odds," I said, as we bursted out laughing and immediately hid our faces, trying to duck our heads behind the people in front of us. lol! Poor bean...but I had started doing all of them too...so....yeah...what came next....?

OH! English came next! And the teacher doesn't seem that bad after all. Sure, I say that now...
I found out that summer reading wasn't actually REQUIRED and I did all that work for almost nothing! I SPEND LIKE THREE DAYS OF MY VACATION ON THAT!! ARG! So...I'm not sure how it's all going to work....about the reading...but anyway...mo...

Then was Study Hall. Good ol' study hall. I think this is the period when some days we'll be taking electives...but we haven't gotten that far yet...soooooo then we all went to the pick up lines, I hitch-hiked with some goober who took me to some place where I went through lots of pain. Oh, the goober is a highschooler from school, that place was the gym, and lots of pain would be the two-thirds of a mile that we ran, which was sad because that means we're out-of-shape; we can usually run a mile.

Ok...so...that was my first day of high school and I think it went rather well. I'm so looking forward to this year! AHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh man! Oh man! I can't wait! WOOHOO! All my friends, all the activities....I LOVE MY SCHOOL!! :D Ok, so all y'all who haven't blogged bout starting back, you should. Chair...that means you. Seriously. How was it?!! And um...oh yeah. Thanks for reading this horribly long and most likely boring post all the way through. :D

~ Captain Bonnie Spinner

School starts tomorrow

2008-08-25T09:48:00.000-07:00

Well...I'm not sure how to feel. School starts tomorrow. I'm kind of excited for multiple reasons, one of them being we have like 4 new people in our class and one girl that's coming back from 5th grade. :D I can't wait to meet them! I'm also excited about just being in High School. Lunch on the deck, Student Council, Fish Camp, pranks that we'll create that will go down in history...I can't wait! But on the down side, we have a teacher that everyone says is reallllyyyyyyy hard. She scares me. So we'll see how that goes.

Hmmmm....what else.....Oh! We had volleyball tournaments Friday and Saturday. We lost all our matches, but won two games. Somehow the scoring is different and we still lost, but I'm so excited for this year!!! I can't wait to play more! We have a game Thursday and a tourny this weekend...weeee....

Ok. Now then. I think there's some tag that I'm supposed to be doing. Something about summer...but...I really don't have many priorities....I guess....but here I go! *plunging into memories*

My top Summer Memories/Favorite Summer Experiences:

10. Uuuuhhh....blogging....yeah....
9. Writing, I think.
8. Bonding with my friends and having lots of summer sleepovers and parties. :D
7. Working out at the gym with Marial and D {ouch...}
6. Going to the Bible Studies with Chair and holding my favorite baby in the whole wide world...
5. Helping the L's. :D
4. Chilling and not having to go anywhere or do anything for a while
3. Volleyball practice
2. Vacation!!
1. Hanging out with all my blogging and real life friends. Meeting all you guys in person, definitely. That will be a memory I will always hold on to, and possibly laugh at... ;)

I hope y'all are happy. Well...there will most likely be a post about the first day of school tomorrow...

Btw, Render, Flint had a really good idea: You should be multi-render orders food @ Micky-D's!! {That's McDonald's...for all you slow people like me out there...}

Well...Ciao and have good days!!
~ Captain Bonnie Spinner

Abduction

2008-08-13T11:23:00.000-07:00

Aka, one of the most fun days of my life. Seriously. Let me paint you the beginning scenario:

Marial, D, and I are innocently sitting around my kitchen table after volleyball practice, laughing and being ourselves, when all of a sudden, two crazy weirdos with umbrellas jump out of my living room and state in disguised voices, "You're coming with us!" We blink, taking a moment to process the figures clad in black with sunglasses, hats, and bandanas over their faces. Then we burst out laughing. Dad snaps some pictures. Soon our arms are tied behind our backs and we're blindfolded. We're led swiftly through the door and into a car. Well...not swiftly. When you're blindfolded, you tend to stumble more...anyway... If this is what abduction is like, I'll gladly be kidnapped by them any day!

Throughout the whole car ride, we three chat like crazy, probably annoying our captors who still refuse to talk. We design the car we're riding in, wonder where we're going, and soon we've figured out that our captors are two seniors {my favorite two!} from our school. Marial had an uncanny nose that can sniff out anyone. We're still laughing and grinning behind the bandanas when 30 minutes later they pull the car to a stop and lead us out. I didn't have my shoes on, so they tried to get me to wear flats, but I couldn't walk in those so they gave up. They led us over concrete, not too carefully {poor D has a cut on her leg from when she didn't hear them say "step"}, and eventually the blindfold slipped and I saw a huge building and parking lot.

"You guys, I have no idea where we are!" I exclaimed. Then...they got in trouble with mall security and had to untie us. We were at the mall. We met up with all the girls from the ninth grade and senior class inside, then went to a different mall. We talked a bit about how long they had planned this and I eventually found some shoes, but they didn't tell us anything about the rest of the day. Arg. How frustrating. We got to the other mall and they told us we were going on a scavenger hunt. YEA! We got into teams with lists and bags and set out on an adventure.

Can you imagine groups of high school girls running rampid in the mall, unsupervised? Yeah. That was us. It was CRAZY!!!! {I usually don't like going to malls, but we weren't shopping}. My group finished the scavenger hunt and met up with the others, who had also finished everything on the list. Piling back into our cars, we went to one of their houses and hung out, playing a game or two and eating all their food. They had this dip stuff for carrots and chips called "veggie wedgie" and it was SOOO GOOODDDD! I think they had to add the sour cream to it, though. One senior had gummy worms and all the ones she didn't want were given to me. Yum!! Forgetting about swimming, we talked and played an M&M getting-to-know-you type of game, then glanced at the clock and got dressed for dinner.

They were going to take us to Cheesecake factory!!! Ahhhh!!! We were really happy and excited, but then we got there...and they told us an hour or hour-and-a-half wait. Psh! Scratch that! We went to TGI Friday's instead. I had a Chicken Caesar salad and some other stuff from my neighbors...you know....extra fries that would deteriorate and go to waste if someone didn't eat them. Then we called our parents and had them pick us up. It was SOOO MUCH FUN! I love our seniors! Our seniors are AWESOME! I can't even express their awesomeness. They're so much fun to just be around, you know? I hope we're crazy like that when we're seniors.

It's a tradition now. Every class that gets kidnapped has to kidnap someone else. *evil grin* So when I'm a senior, all those li'l fishies better watch their tails!! The sharks will devour them!...then take them on a surprise day of fun. :D Oh my goodness....yesterday was so awesome. It was completely insane. I love our class, I love the seniors, and I love veggie wedgie dip. G'night, everybody, and watch out for ninjas with umbrellas! {They couldn't find their toy guns. :D}

~ Captain Bonnie Spinner

Stuff

2008-08-05T12:54:00.000-07:00

Woop!! It rained! I love tropical storms!!! It rained today!! Woohoo! I went outside and stood there, letting the rain speckle my skin and run down my face. Then I started running and spinning and the stuff you're supposed to do when it rains. So...I'm really happy today. I love rain. Ok, enough of that. Here's some totally awesome pics mom and I dug up of Chair, Will, and me.

*giggling* That's Will...I think

*grinning* That's Chair. She's so cute!!!! ... I think she was holding her breath or something...

And then there's this pic. Y'all will be able to know who the others are. *grinning* Lookit the J's!! I am on the left and Will is on the right. :D We're so cute!! Ahhh!

Ok, soooo that was a nice little walk down memory lane...Hope you enjoyed those. :D Ciao and have good days!

~ Captain Bonnie Spinner, the rain watcher

Rambling

2008-07-30T11:28:00.000-07:00

Well I think I need a new post, but I don't have anything to say, really. In conclusion, I'm going to ramble and see how long it takes before my audience of one falls asleep. Maybe I'll even add some pictures, for visual interest.

I guess I'm kind of tired today. And sore. Volleyball camp started Moday {yes, I meant Moday}. It's not an official camp. It's just my school peeps who rent this grody, smelly old gym and go there for three hours each day for a week. The gym wasn't bad this year. {It's the same gym as always, but cleaner (as in the crusty couches, old chairs, furniture that no one else wanted, stage, and buckets of cockroaches were completely gone) and they have AC now! Woop Woop!} Hm...*going to find picture of volleyball* {Did anyone else notice the ( ) inside the { } ? }

And um...that's really fun. Also, I spent Moday and Tueday with Marial and spent the night...so if you emailed me or something and I didn't respond, that's why. Oh! Chair!! SHE HAS A SNAKE NAMED TODD! I LOVE TODD!!! I should make that a t-shirt...in fact...

There. Isn't that cool? Ok. Mo {moving on}. *making popping sound* Um...so....when I get really bored, I either say nothing and get really lazy...or if no one talks to me, I get like...serious...and think about stuff {I don't think normally...} ORRR sometimes, if I've had some sugar or something, I blurt out random phrases. I'm not really sure what kind of mood I'm in now...I'm tired and sore...I want another volleyball massage. Those are fun and feel really good. We do that at the end of practice.

I wonder what it would sound like if a sleeptalker was sore. ... "Ouch! *snore* Ouch! *snore* OH, MY LEGS! *yawn*" Ok...well...that's what you get for wanting a new post when I have nothing to say. Complete randomings. I think I've perfected the art of randoming. Maybe it's a mental condition. I've trained my brain to jump from subject to subject. Which is sometimes good, when you want to think of something un-complicated, or if you're lazy and don't want to think at all. On the trip, I was doing these little journally thingies, and one time I rambled for like ten pages.

Well....I think it's nap time...or chill time....or relax time...or sit-on-the-couch-and-wait-till-you-fall-asleep-or-something-interesting-happens time. Actually, I think that whenever you're waiting for something unexpected to happen....it doesn't...cuz you're expecting it...it's the days when you're not aware of anything that something happens, but only sometimes, because sometimes in the back of your mind, you're still expecting the unexpected, which makes it a least-likely-for-something-to-happen day. *yawning* Well, if you can figure that out, you must be a genius. I myself can't remember what I did five minutes ago. Give yourself a pat on the back. Ciao and have good days, everybody!

{pillows}

~ Bonnie Spinner

PS. OH!!!! Will and Chair, I found these really cool pics of when we were cute {a looong time ago}. Can I post them? I'll email them to you first, if you want.

Bible Verse tag {Short Version}

2008-07-18T10:18:00.000-07:00

Mommy tagged everyone who read her blog to blog about favorite Bible verses and blessings. ... That made me think way too hard, but here it is. I think all the verses in the Bible are good ones. ... But someone might consider that cheating...so here's a few recent favorites...

Romans 12:2
Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.

This verse is my favorite now, because it's something I've come to realize this past year and plan to use this coming year {talking in school years}. More recent favorites are:

Psalm 139: 14
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.

1 Peter 1:6-7
In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed

So...those are my recent favorite verses. They've encouraged me a lot. Now...on to blessings... I can't even count that high! Last night, I was thinking about this, and I started writing, and I wrote for like an hour and eighteen minutes. And I barely even started on blessings. I mean, it's hard to express like HOW MUCH I've been blessed. I realized that, and it made me love God even more. Thanks, mom...that was a good post...it made me think really hard, and I needed that.

Well...I guess if I had to name a few, I would say friends, family, church, and school. My family is always supportive of everything I do, and I know I can always ask them for advice or if I just need someone to listen. And my friends...are...awesome.... like.... God has blessed me with really, really, good friends! Again, I'm not able to express the awesomeness of what He has given me. My church is where I've been going most of my life. I've never been to any other church but Covenant {minus churches on vacations and stuff like that}, and I'm sooo glad I'm still there. My school is also awesome. The environment there, of Christian teachers and students...even the curriculum...it's really good. Huuuge blessing. I love my class. We're like one big family, even if we do fight sometimes.

So...I think that's it. Once again, thank you mom ~ I needed to think...haven't been doing that in a while. And, since this is a tag, I guess I tag everyone who reads this. I know Render and Will have already done it...y'all can post it on your blog or re-do comments here. Or not. You choice. So everyone {anyone} else who reads this...go blog! ... wow ... I didn't ramble nearly as much as I thought I would.

More pictwas!

2008-07-13T11:27:00.000-07:00

...Yes, I know I spelled "pictures" like a French person. Don't hurt me. Anyway, here are some more pics from our trip:

That's the cabin view...did I show you that already? Who cares. See it again.

This is a building shaped like a corn cob in Chicago...we took a architechtural tour thingie.

Here are a bunch of fireworks! {And no Snailiens; camera mysteriously stopped working when we saw the space ship...}

That one is my favorite... Shiny!!

These are the boats at the Yacht club where we saw fireworks with my Aunt and her boss {and fam}.

This is a view of a um...building....through the ships...I think that building is significant somehow...but I can't remember why...maybe it's the state capital....*blink; shrug* Short term memory loss...I've no idea. Sorry. MO {moving on}.

And that mysteriously wonderful bright glowing light is called a candle. :) I love that picture! FIIIREEEE! Ok, enough of that...I hope you liked the pics. :D Leave comments, but don't go crazy on me. *stern look* Oh, who am I kidding? Getting 100 comments was crazy! I've never gotten that much before! Kudos to all who commented {which automatically excludes the Kidds (sorry guys) but we love them anyway ;)}.

~ Captain Bonnie Spinner

We're baaaackkkkk

2008-07-08T07:24:00.000-07:00

We're baaaaccckkkk! *cue Phsycho music*

Miss us?

Well, let me see, in summary, we went to Minnesota, Chicago and Evanston Illinois, and Jackson Mississippi. Highlights of the trip include the ride at Mall of America, meeting up with some old friends twice {in MI and MA}, and seeing the Blue Man Group. That was...really...coll...weird...interesting....it's really hard to describe but I liked it a lot.

Hm....any other news...? Oh! It's almost halfway through JULY!!! AHHHH! *runs around, screaming and hyperventilating* I can't believe it! Where did summer go?! I think it's hiding. Ooh! It must be in my top bunk! It shan't be lost for long! *sends one of personalities to go and find the lost summer*

Hm...other news...? I don't think so... The Moonarrows are back....but y'all knew that. And um... hm ... OH! OH! OH! I got Dragonlight! *proud look* and I'm on Chapter....um....thirty something....

Ok, ciao and have good days!

~ Captain Bonnie Spinner

The Snailiens are coming, the Snailiens are coming!

2008-07-04T06:15:00.000-07:00

Ohmygoodness, you guys!! Stay in your houses, lock your windows, and watch your pets for suspicious activites; the snailiens are coming!! Ohmygoodness...ok, so this is what happened: In Chicago, we were watching fireworks go off for like a pre-fourth celebration or something. My friend, *trying to remember code name* Selena Clous and I looked up, and through the fireworks we saw the blinking light of a space craft. We were like, "Hey, that's shaped kind of funny for an airplane..." so we took out our cameras to see if we could zoom, AND THEY STOPPED WORKING! They got low on battery! But then, once the ship shrank from sight, THEY WERE FULL BATTERY!!!! AHHHH! Creepy, huh? The snailiens don't want any proof of their existance....that's why I'm writing this down...if I die tomorrow and no one ever reads this...it's because I knew too much.

So, once the fire works were over, we started brainstorming {and having a great time while we were at it, too} and we came up with a whole species of aliens called "snailiens" that need our planet for a stone to play hopscotch. They look kind of like snake-snail-aliens {I'll post a pic once I get home, but for now I'll try my hand at paint...} and their shells can open up and engulfe their victims, which consist of pets that they steal the bodies of afterward. But it doesn't stop there! After they're stolen a body, they need human blood to retain its form!! *slightly disturbed look* The only hope we have of stopping their brussel-sprout cannon and anti-battery space ship attack is HOSPITAL GOWNS {no one likes those, anyway}. Join with me in the rally of these hated pieces of clothes, to destroy the snailiens from taking over on our freedom day!!!!

Hopefully I won't wake up tomorrow with anmesia and no proof that this actually happened...

~ Captain Bonnie Spinner

PS....don't go around asking for hospital gowns....please....

A rand moment with Bonnie Spinner's multiple personalities...?

2008-07-02T15:52:00.000-07:00

*feeling inspired from Will's email*

Happy Bonnie {side A}: Ha! Ha! Ha! Look at the carpet! Heeheehehe, it's red!!

Moody Bonnie {evil B}: Hush up; I'm blogging.

Tired Bonnie {z}: *glancing at room with half-closed lids* Do you think...all chihuahuas have satellites?

A: Weee! Then they could watch the radio free of charge! That would be so cool! That way they would have more money to waste on shoes and other trivial items!

EB: Keep it down! Oy, who gave A the chocolate? I will personally strangle the person who gave A chocolate!

Z: I think it was the monkey, in the banana, with the library...

*A comes up to Z and pokes her with a wide smile on her face, giggling uncontrollabley. Seeing as she stays asleep, she goes to annoy EB*

EB: Stop that! I told y'all to keep it down! Don't MAKE me come OVER there!

*A giggles more and pokes her with increased vigor*

*Screen goes black; sounds of a fight going on*

EB: Sorry about that...problem solved. *A scwirms in her duct taped bonds, scooting in the chair she is now stapped to, a gag in her mouth*

*A fourth Bonnie emerges from the closet of dreams, hands bound with a red bandana, crawling past EB and blogging into the computer upstairs:* Day 3 in the recesses of Bonnie's mind. If I don't get some decent food for thought soon, I'm going to starve. I'm quite ravenous but on the other hand, Z IS asleep and unaware of my recent escape....*hungry Bonnie looks around for Z, sleeping in a couch* Aha! The morsel is unaware of my plot...I wonder if she's sweet. *inconspicuously sneaking around the couch, not being seen by moody Bonnie, venting her rage about siblings and multiple personalities on her blog* I am now stooping down to the level of insects and some island natives. Cannibalism. *Hungry bites Z and immediately spits* Ew! She's bitter!

*EB turns around, angrily* I thought I locked you in a closet, Inner Monologue! *hungry ducks and scrambles for the door, but EM blocks it with a dark expression* You will wish you had stayed there...*EB drags IM down to the section of the brain that you get songs stuck in*

"NOOO!" screamed IM, realizing what's going to happen and scrambling to be released, however Moody's grip is like iron. "Noooo!" she screamed again, hoping to be heard by Z, who can sleep through a thunderstorm AND a fire alarm. EB gags her and locks her in the room then stalks back to the computer. IM crumples into the corner, with the chorus of "It's a Small World" echoing in her head, blaring in her ears.

*Bonnie wakes up from her dream, blinking and trying to think for once. All her multiple personalities get run over by her train of thought, not to be seen until night arises once more...she groggily gets up and checks her blog, staring in unbelief at the screen* What the heck?!

Hm...

2008-07-02T06:31:00.001-07:00

*sigh*

So maybe I owe y'all a bit more than some random pics...

Well, last week we went to Minnesota and stayed at this lodge place with a lake and everything. I finished a book {NOT my summer reading one} that was recommended to me by my friend. It's not quite the genre I am used to but it's still pretty good. And...hm...what else did we do...? Oh! Food!

ok, so they provide breakfast and dinner if you get the package or whatever, right? So it's included. So every day you can pick what to eat. You get bread to start off with, then you choose an appetizer, an entree, and a desset, and they bring one of those palet-cleansing-you-don't-fool-me-it's-an-icee-no-matter-how-French-you-make-it-sound thingies that are like shave ice. But the food is like....gourmet! You can get filet minon, shrimp scamy, rib eye, stuffed chicken, porkchops, duck *wince*, salad, hummis, satays, walleyed cake {whatever that is}, and don't even get me started on dessert! I mean, their chocolate cake is like....mmmm....ah.....ooh....

And breakfast is good too. Arg...I should probably be trying to burn that all off now. *sigh* Where's a treadmill? Then we visited some family friends. *grins* That was REALLY fun. Some of the men there had little magic tricks, and it was funny because the people they tried to get to do the trick with them knew how the trick worked, so they would mess them up. Hm...Render, I think I might know how you do one of your card tricks! {key word being "think"}.

Now we're in Chicago, visiting my aunt. The one with all the books. Weeeeee...should be fun. And um....hm...Oh! Advise: When in a double-doored elevator {door on both sides}, do NOT lean against the back of the elevator!! BAD IDEA!

~ Captain Bonnie

Some stuffs

2008-07-01T15:46:00.000-07:00

Here's some stuffs for y'all.

The view of the water of the lake we were staying at in Minnesota...

Ducks or something...

...Leaves...

Ok, yeah, I went for a walk and went crazy with the camera. I have like 3 shots of looking up at the trees from the ground, but oh well. It was good weather, I was listening to my ipod, and I was bored. So yeah. That's it...so far...

~ Captain Bonnie Spinner

Leaving

2008-06-21T16:48:00.000-07:00

Y'all I'm going on a two week trip to Minnesota, Chicago, and Mississippi. I'm leaving Monday. Sooooooo...

I'll miss you all so much but I'll try to use the internet when I get the chance at hotels and all that jazz. I'm really looking forward to it. Y'all have fun while I'm gone, ok? Hey! I know! Until I get back, y'all can play tag!! Alrighty. Here's the game: 10 random {or little known} things about you tag!

Rules

1. Blog about 10 random BUT TRUE facts about you.

2. Have fun!

See how easy it is? I'll do a mine real quick so y'all get the gist of it.

1. I'm addicted to gum.

2. When I was little I used to wonder if people tasted like chicken.

3. I CAN eat 5 saltine crackers in under a minute {previously thought impossible}.

4. I STILL haven't finished that book on my dresser that I started 2 years ago...

5. I scrapbook. {Actually, I think I told someone that...}

6. I promised myself a long time ago that I would never call a home phone {exceptions being if said home phone is on my fav five}.

7. I hate the feeling of chalk in between my nails. Bleh. Yuck.

8. I was born with 2 extra vampire teeth. They were really pointy.

8. When I was little my imaginary friend was Aladin from ... Aladin.

10. Um...um....um...did anyone notice I used the number 8 twice?

Ok, so now that y'all see what it's like, I tag everyone on my blog list!
*Tagging Marissa, Will, Flint, Charity, Levi, and Render* So...go blog! I'd like to read something when I get back. Have fun and I'm going to miss y'all!!

~ Captain Bonnie Spinner

My music

2008-06-15T14:47:00.000-07:00

Yes, I know, I have lots of different songs on there. Yes, I like Broadway musicals. Yes, I think that Enchanted song is extremely catchy. Yes, KJ52 is addicted to Mountain Dew. No, that's not the best version of Cassie, but I think it's the best they had. And no, playlist.com doesn't have every song {explaining why "No Ordinary Love" is not on there}. Anyway, enjoy. Feel free to leave comments. ~ Bonnie Spinner

2008-06-14T17:16:00.000-07:00

Marial and I dyed our hair. I got red and she got blue. You like?

Thursday

2008-06-12T16:00:00.000-07:00

Today's Thursday. Which means I went to help out at a friend's house. Which means I have some stories to tell. We started out like last time. Busy morning. We packed everyone into the 15-passenger van and went to the gym, with Mouse and Shades calling my name on the way then hiding behind the nearest object. J-man and Mouse had a good time at gym, but I think both of them ended up loosing their stickers. A moment of silence please, for those lost stickers. Alright. Silence over. Then we went shopping again {but this was a "shorter trip" because we only had to go to one store}.

{Btw, I'm changing "M&M" to "Gabby" (she talks a lot).} Gabby talked to me on the way to the cereal, and she told me about a picture she had painted of a cabin. She explained that it was hard to make the brown color, and that it was her secret recipe. She leaned in and whispered, "I can't tell you how to make it because..." she paused and looked thoughtful, before continuing, "I don't remember." That made me smile.

We went home and ate lunch. Then Cool Shades needed her diaper changed. *grimace* Yeah...that was my first time changing a diaper. Sad, isn't it? Anyway...we got ready and I explained to the small group of onlookers, "This is my first time changing a diaper, y'all, so please don't laugh..." And then Cool Shades herself tilted her head back and laughed almost mechanically. That was funny.

Hm...any other highlights? *thinking* I helped some with school games and things. Cowboy, Manny, and I played a game where we had to throw a bomb across the sea, making sure not to let it land in the water, because then it would surely explode. But don't worry. With Cowboy and Manny there to dive into the water and retrieve the bomb, we didn't need to worry about being blown up...except for when I threw it...then we died. Oh, and apparently, for those people out there like me who hadn't played the game before, throwing the bomb at the wall gives you "infinity" points, and throwing it on the mantle gives you "beyond".

That's about it. *sigh* Well...Chair is going to Vegas. Have fun, Chair!! Hope you do well! Show them Vegas-ies {...?} that Texans got skill. And Will is still in *bleep*. Flint doesn't read my blog {that I know of}, and Render...is he back yet? So, Marissa, here's my day! :) Welcome back, btw. We missed you.

~ Captain Bonnie Spinner

PS. Tomorrow Marial and I are dying our hair. Should be fun...post pics if I remember...

Crazy Day

2008-06-05T20:09:00.000-07:00

Today was fun. A bit strange. A bit crazy. A bit funny. A bit weird. But it was fun. This Thursday was the first of many that I will helping a family with 8 kids. I was really looking forward to it. Today was so much fun. First we went to gymnastics, because "J-man" and "Micky Mouse" take gym. All the rest of the gang came too {except "Cowboy", who was helping his dad at the house}. The "gang" consists of {in youngest to oldest, the oldest being 10 I think (nicknames to protect privacy)}:

1. "Miss Cool Shades" ~ 2 years old, cute, can't tell the difference between her feet {literally}, likes sunglasses, shoes, and pizza. Her catchphrase is: "Ew...gross...nasty!"

2. "Micky Mouse" ~ 3 years old, energetic {very!!}, sweet, likes my phone, my hat, my house, my mom....and trying to hide things when she thinks I'm not looking.

3. "J-man" ~ turning 4 years old, dangerous!!!! Energetic! Has the most cute, monkey-ish {slightly evil} smile in the world!! Apparently he likes butterscotch lollipops *makes CHOMP noise* and pieces of fuzz that used to be a deerskin blanket....? Oh, and his favorite activities may include swinging from chandeliers and climbing out windows {that happened a long time ago}.

4. "Manny" ~ 4 years old. He's the strong, silent type. I think he will be a good football player. He likes riding in between two moving grocery carts, making funny faces, shooting people with guns {his fingers}, and bouncing.

5. "Cowboy" ~ 5 years old. Likes guns and fixing things. I didn't get to spend as much time with him as with the others because he was helping his dad with something. I will say he's probably the hardest to understand out of all of them. Sometimes you simply have to resort to smiling and nodding while saying occasionally, "Yeah. That's cool." I hate doing that...not understanding them...kind of awkward.

6. "Gabby" ~ 7 years old. Likes dolls, books, dresses, and talking. She talked alot. But not unpleasantly a lot. She's very sweet. A good helper. Big, blue eyes. She told me her favorite Lord of the Rings movie was the third one. And she hated the second. *I-don't-agree-with-that look* But oh well. :)

7. "X-box" ~ 9 years old. Likes X-box, games, Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, computer games, swords, now-or-later candies. He's nice to talk to and very intelligent.

8. "Sewing Machine" ~ 10 years old. Very responsible and a good helper. Likes to sew, cook, read, and play computer. She's very wise for her age and she's kind of quiet...well, not to my sister anyway {they're really good friends}, but she has very good self control.

Phew...I think that's everyone. Well, we went to gym first and I watched Tom and Jerry with the kids who weren't in class. I haven't seen that show in a while. Not much has changed. Poor Tom is still persecuted for merely trying to eat, Jerry is still ganging up on Tom with the help of his scheming dog friend, and that little "touche, pussycat!" mouse is still trying to become a mouseketeer.

After that we went shopping. This was a very new experience. We went to two stores. I have never had to shop with two carts. Ever. Cool Shades was riding in the first cart. Mouse was in the other cart. Manny had a foot on each of them, trying to keep his balance. J-man kept trying to switch from the back of one cart to the other. M&M talked to me, telling me stories and pointing out the abnormal purple tennis shoes of the man nearby. We got pizza {much to the relief of Cool Shades} and ate that in the car.

We went home and tried to get some of the little ones to take naps. The older ones played on computer or did x-box. I watched for a bit as X-box played a baseball game where he purposefully threw the ball at the batter's face. That was funny. Then Sewing Machine and I called out different body parts for him to hit. "Knee!" "Stomach!" Then his pitcher got kicked out of the game *scowl* but it was still fun.

I cleaned the cabinets {they were really grimey, grody, and dirty} because they were having some people stay at their house later on. Somewhere around this time, poor Mouse rounded a kitchen corner, stolen cheeto in hand, and stepped in the water bowl, knocking it over and falling on her face. Then when my mom came to pick me up, I watched with amusement as poor little Cool Shades tried to put on Mouse's shoes. She had them on the wrong feet. So then she took them off, switched them on the ground, and then put them on again ~ still on the wrong feet! "Cool Shades," I said as she picked up her left shoe and moved it over her right foot, "Wrong foot." She looked at me, blinked, put the shoe down, picked up the right shoe, and moved it over her LEFT foot! I laughed. She eventually got some help and happily trudged around the house.

And...then we left. We met up with Chair and Bear at night at a Bible Study and we watched little Bear. That was fun. We had some laughs. *Thinking* Well...Chair's never on, Will is *someone comes and muffles the next sentence; then leaves*, Marissa is having tons of fun at camp {hopefully} and who knows how long it will be before the Moonarrows get back to blogging...*narrowed eyes* So I don't really know who I'm blogging to.

... Ciao and have a good day! *To the wall* Thanks for listening.

~ Captain Bonnie Spinner

PS. So if I don't reply to anything you do on Thursdays...this is why. Oh, and Fridays I am working out with Marial. For a while. Yeah.

School's OUT!

2008-05-25T13:28:00.000-07:00

School's out!! I feel like running and jumpng and singing and laughing and and and and weee! *Singing High School Musical* Juuuuuust kidding! High school musical is one of those movies that after you've seen it once {and believe me, I've seen it a BILLION times}, you get tired of it. So we got out of school last wednesday. "Marial" and I had a good time. We went ice skating. I fell alot. That was sooo fun! I like going fast and then attempting to do something cool...so you fall....and then you laugh about it. That's fun. Still recovering from blisters and bruises.

We also watched 4 episodes of Dr. Who....and she fell asleep first....and I was hallucinating and imigining things at night...creepy....but I like Dr. Who. The new ones. Never seen the old ones. I'll have to see them some time. Hm...what else did we do? We played a bit of volleyball. That was fun.

Btw, we graduated from middle school! *jumping into the air* Yeaaaa! The graduation was kind of cool, in a way, but it had a sad aftertaste, like a lemon drop gone bad. After the ceremony was over, we all said good bye. Some people are going to different high schools, which made everyone kind of sad. We're all really close, like one big family. But more than that. I was so happy school was over, but yet, in a way, knowing I wouldn't see most of my friends for like 3 months and knowing I might not see the ones that are going to other schools....it made me feel empty...yet happy...I don't know how to describe it. Just....satisfied? I'm glad this year is over. I've learned a lot and I {hopefully} have matured a bit. I wish I had hugged more people. :(

After graduation, Marial, D, Des, their parents, my dad, and our coaches all met up and had lunch at Olive Garden. That was fun. We had some laughs and made plans to get together some over the summer. I think I'm officially a fish {freshman} now. There you have it. Bottom of the food chain. I think that's all I have to say for now.

Have fun wherever y'all are!

~ Bonnie Spinner, fish