Zephyr

The last of these particular stories. This one is definetly one of my favourites, and I plan on trying to see if I can take it further, perhaps turn it into a novel or something. It's there, in the back of my head still, so I figure there's more to tell. Maybe some of the other characters from these stories will turn up too.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this. Tomorrow will be something different. Comments and feedback are the best. I just wish that there was a way to reply to the comments properly.  I also apologize for the uncoloured picture. I have two coloured versions kicking around somewhere, but I don't know where they are.

          

         The slight breeze gently stirred the dust from the ground, circling the ankles of the two girls who traveled barefoot down the path.  They were almost identical, both with long brown hair, both sunburned and freckled, both wearing similar expressions of guilt and mirth.

          “We should go back to school.”  One of the girls said. She was only distinguishable from the other by her more organized appearance, and her red and yellow-gold beaded bracelet.

          “Don’t be a wuss.” The other replied dismissively. She wore a similar bracelet, but without any tangible pattern or colour scheme. “We’re not missing anything.” She grimaced and spat at the side of the road. “Them schools don’t teach us nothing anyhow.”

          “Oh, stop it, Gen,” The neat one cried. “You know your mama doesn’t want you speaking like that.  She taught you to speak properly.”

          Gen glared at her, her expression that of a Queen who has just noticed that her favourite courtier didn’t follow the laws she had set down – Angry, surprised, and a little sad. “Jilly, we are having an adventure.” She said flatly. “And on this adventure, I’m gonna to speak any goddamn way I like.”

          Jilly nodded solemnly. “But aren’t we just going down to the creek? That’s hardly an adventure. We go there all the time.”

          “True enough.” Gen shrugged. “And a good idea to boot. Let’s get ourselves off the road then.” She spotted a path that branched off of the main road and dashed down it, leaving Jilly standing alone on the road.

          “Gen, we’re not even wearing shoes!” She cried.  Jilly looked up and down the road and then at the path again. “Gen, come back!”

          Gen reappeared on the little path. “Don’t be a wuss, Jilly,” She scolded. “Hurry up.”

          Jilly sighed and stepped down onto the path. “Do you even know where this path leads?” She asked.

          A strange light appeared in Gen’s dark eyes. “Yeah,” She said simply, gabbing Jilly’s hand. “I seen it, and it’s beautiful. You’ll like it.” She started to walk, eager to get to their destination, but Jilly dug in her heels, resisting her cousin’s pull. Gen looked back at her, not comprehending Jilly’s reluctance,

Jilly frowned. “Genevieve Margot King, you tell me what’s down that path,” She ordered looking fierce.

Gen sighed and leaned towards Jilly. “Fairies,” She whispered.

Jilly gave her cousin a suspicious look. “You haven’t been drinking Granny’s homemade cider again, have you?”

Gen rolled her eyes. “Course not. This is real.”

“Gen, you’re a bit old to believe in fairies,” Jilly said gently.

“I didn’t believe in ‘em till I saw ‘em with my own two eyes,” Gen retorted angrily. “And maybe you don’t believe in ‘em, but I don’t lie to you about anything. They’re there. They’re real.” She gave Jilly a wild look. “I’ve talked to them a bunch of times. They like me.  I thought they’d like you too.” She hesitated a moment, a frown knitting her eyebrows together. “I thought you believed in spiritual stuff. Fairies, even.”

“That doesn’t mean I want anything to do with them.” Jilly countered. “They’re not nice, Gen. They don’t think the way we do.” The breeze sprang up again, pushing them away from the road. “That’s a west wind,” She commented. “Grandmother says that strange things happen when a zephyr’s in the air.”

“We have the same Granny, and she’s never said that.” Gen gave Jilly an impatient look.

“Not Granny. My other Grandmother.”

“The crazy one who lives in the boonies?”

Jilly nodded.” She knows about stuff like that.”

“One of them’s named Zephyr,” Gen mused. “Maybe you’re right. Not today.” She sent a wistful look down the path, and then turned towards the road, decisively. “We’re still going to the creek though. You can’t get out of that.“ She laughed and danced back up the path.

Jilly. The wind called mournfully. Jilly.

“No.” Jilly said, her voice firm.

“What d’ya mean, no?” Gen asked, looking confused. “We planned to go there all along.”

“Not that,” Jilly explained. “Let’s not come back, not today, not ever. Spirit people don’t play nice. We’d just be play toys to them.”

Gen stared at her cousin, feeling as though her world had suddenly shrunk. Jilly was right though. The fairies were different. They looked at Gen and saw something more like a doll than a person. “I guess you’re right.” She admitted. “I promise I won’t come back today or any day, unless we agree together to go.”

Jilly nodded and repeated her words. They shook hands on it, and Jilly removed her bright red bracelet. “We’ll seal it by swapping bracelets.” She suggested. “And if one of us wants to break the promise, we have to return the bracelet. That way we can convince each other not to do it. A final safety.”

Gen removed her own bracelet, a zany collection of multi-coloured beads. They swapped them with an odd sense of ceremony. “Let’s get going to the creek.” She said. “We’re wasting daylight. Unless, of course, you want to go back to school?” She gave Jilly a saucy look and danced back up the path to the road.

Jilly stood where she was for a moment. The wind still pulled at her hair and clothes, trying to bring her away from the road. Then she turned and followed Gen to the road. “School isn’t worth it anyway,” She told Gen, which earned her a grin from her cousin.

“You see?” Gen laughed, punching Jilly playfully on the shoulder. “I am getting through to you.”

Jilly laughed too, trying to shake off the strange sense that they being watched. She followed her cousin away from the little path through the trees. It was probably just her imagination when the wind called her name anyway.

Harbinger

This is the second last story of this specific collection. It's the first story in the book, and I'm not entirely sure why I didn't post the stories in order. Probably because this story doesn't make a lot of sense without the last story, which will be posted tomorrow.  As always, comments and feedback are always appreciated.

Two crows flapped slowly across the steel gray sky, their rough calls tearing the silence apart. They landed in one of the many spindly trees that bordered the field, crowding together, two dark leaves on a barren tree. The silence fell once more, like a curtain at the end of the day.

                They had come for a reason. Below them lay a girl, unmoving, her long dark hair tangled with leaves and twigs, her tanned legs covered in mud and scratches. She lay as though she had been tossed there, lying spread eagled over the uneven ground. Two beaded bracelets circled her wrist, one eccentrically made by someone who clearly had no respect for patterns and a deep love of all colours, and the other an intricate design of red and yellow-gold.

                One of the crows flew to the ground. It eyed the girl suspiciously, and cawed. When the girl didn’t move, it hopped closer, it’s bright eyes gleaming with hunger. It hopped up to the girls out-flung arm and pecked her, it’s sharp beak drawing forth a bright drop of blood.

                The girl sat up with a gasp, startling the crow into flight. She watched it fly away, followed closely by the other. She rubbed her eyes and brushed the stray hairs out of her face. She didn’t seem particularly surprised to find herself sleeping underneath a tree, or of the numerous scratches on her arms and legs.  Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head, however, when she saw the two bracelets on her wrist. She untied the rainbow one and rolled it back and forth in her palm.

                “She went back on it!” She hissed. “I cannot believe her! It was her idea, too.” She closed her fingers around the bracelet, her nails digging into the flesh of her palm. She stood up and tried to brush the dirt from her shorts and tank-top, but to no avail.

                She could remember the day that they’d made that promise. Her cousins worried eyes, the hot sun, and the heavy sense of losing something forever. She always thought that she’d lost the little corner of her world that was full of magic. Now she knew that it was really her cousin that she’d lost. This day had been coming for a long time.

                She headed away from the field, her direction sure.  The bracelet was only a harbinger of what was to come, she was certain of it. A broken promise was about to be the least of her worries.

Also, I got accepted to Georgian college today! It's not my first choice, but it's only the first day that they're accepting anything, so it's pretty awesome!

Good day!

Sabotage

This was probably the hardest of these short stories to write. I couldn't come up with a good story idea, and when I finally did, I almost didn't want to write it, because I wanted a happy ending. Sadly, a happy ending wasn't in store for poor Gabe. Please enjoy, comments and feed-back are always appreciated!
 Also, I apoligize for the distinct lack of colour on this picture. I scanned it before I coloured it, so it never actually got done.

 

                Tall and thin, the shadows crept along the wall. They shouldn’t have been possible. The room was already weighed down with the sort of darkness that presses the world into silence, muffling sound and stifling dreams. And yet, there they were, spindly fingers reaching out, ready to pluck the sleeping boy from his bed and fill his head with shadows.

Before creatures could do any more than brush the curls off of the boy’s forehead, however, the door opened, letting in a sliver of golden light. He boy’s mother peered inside. She smiled, and closed the door again, leaving the boy in the darkness once more.

Slowly, slowly, the shadows began to move once more.

Tall and thin, Gabriel wandered down the school hallway, glowering at the floor as he went. People automatically moved away from him, his stormy features promised trouble that none of them wanted. His hands were stuffed into his pockets, preventing them from listening to the voice that told him to strangle the people around him, to rip them to pieces and paint the halls red with blood.

He stopped at his locker and opened it. For a fleeting second, he thought he saw a grinning face in the shadows, but it disappeared instantly. He glared at the locker. Those faces were the reason that he couldn’t have a normal life. Their insidious voices crept into his brain, making him violent, unpredictable, angry.  They sabotaged every friendship, every attempt he made to reach out, to get better, to get them out.

A pretty girl that passed by smiled at him, and he tried to smile back. The shadow voices, always at a murmur, grew to shouts. Kill her, break her-

No! He slammed the locker shut. No. He wasn’t going to listen. He wasn’t going to be some tool for destruction and death.

He turned away from his locker and walked out of the building, into the bright sunlight.  The shouts faded to whispers. He leaned against the building and stared at the sun, welcoming the momentary quiet that the light gave.

He was done with living with the damn shadow people. He turned away from the sun and started walking home, blinking away the dark spots that appeared in his vision. In every spot, he saw the face of the girl who had smiled at him. Just a smile, nothing more, yet it made his heart beat faster. She probably thought he was some sort of loner loser, and, even if she didn’t even if he did like her, it didn’t matter. Maybe he’d be able to ignore the voices for a while. Maybe. But the moment they got into a fight, over anything, the voices would start screaming, and maybe, just maybe, he’d listen to them for a split second.

And even in split second, he could hurt her.

Gabe hopped up his front steps and opened the door. His mom wasn’t home, but she never locked the door. It was really stupid. It wasn’t as if they didn’t have keys to use.

Kicking off his shoes, Gabe travelled into the kitchen and rifled through the medicine cabinet.  He pulled out a bottle of Advil and shook it gently. The container was mostly full. He got a glass of water and took them all, one by one, swallowing the little pills and wearing an insane grin across his pale face.

Sabotage his life, would they? Gabe didn’t intend to give them another chance.

He swallowed the last pill.

Victory.

Quintessential

Another short story from that little collection. This one has a bit of swearing in it. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this one. It's the only story from the set that doesn't have any supernatural elements to it, which is weird for me. Please enjoy, and remember that comments and feedback are always appreciated!

The light and sound of the party leaped out of the dark like a lone candle flame in a room. It flickered and twisted, growing louder and brighter, then quiet once more as a door to the outdoors opened and shut again. Chloe figure slipped out of the house and into the empty road, staggering as if the earth was the storm thrashed deck of a small ship.

Her blonde hair was half twisted into what must have once been an elegant up-do, and was now a half-hearted mess of curls and pins that threatened to escape. Her heavy, glittering eye make-up was smudged and streaked down her cheeks. She pressed her forearm to her mouth, stifling a sob.

She was supposed to be her friend! And now Chloe was standing outside her own house like a stranger. She turned and looked back at the house, dreading the sight that awaited her. Through the window, she could see a couple twisted together, so close that they might as well have been one person. They were kissing, oblivious to the world around them, the jealous glances, the knowing grins. Oblivious to the girl standing alone outside. The girl who was watching her best friend and her boyfriend betray her.

Watching from her post outside, Chloe felt oddly disconnected. Now that the initial shock had worn away, she didn't feel anything. They were both shallow, empty excuses for humans. And Chloe had been trying so hard to be exactly like them. Superficial.

She leaned down and pulled off the uncomfortable heeled shoes that she had been told were so trendy. As she attempted to wrestle the second shoe off, hopping uncomfortably on the pavement with her one bare foot, she overbalanced and fell hard on her backside.

“Oomph.” She sat there for a moment, shocked that the world had shifted so suddenly. Then she began to laugh, and laugh, and laugh. Tears streamed down her face, leaving fresh marks on her face. She lifted the hem of her dress and wiped her eyes, which only made the smudging worse. She kept at it, however, until one side of her face had been scrubbed clean and her dress was spotted with black streaks.

She glanced back at the house. The scene in the window was almost identical to how it had been a few minutes before. None of them had noticed her absence. For some reason, this just made her laugh harder.

 She yanked the other shoe off her foot and lurched to her feet, staggering back to her house, clutching her stomach as she continued to laugh. She managed to hold the laughter in check as she opened the door and went over to the living room stereo. She pressed the off button. The sudden silence was deafening. Chloe began to giggle again. “Party’s over, guys!” She told them, grinning from ear to ear. There was a sound like a plunger as Michael and Gabby finally separated. Their faces were identical O's of surprise. They looked so funny like that, like fish who had just realized that there was no water, and Chloe couldn't help but laugh more.

“You're fucking around, right?” One of the party-goers asked nervously.

“Nope!” Chloe gave him a sweet smile. “Get the fuck out of my house.”

“What? You're such a bitch.”

Chloe wiped all traces of mirth from her face. “Get out or I will call the cops.” Chloe snarled.

It didn't take long for everyone to trickle out, except for Michael and Gabby, both of whom looked properly contrite. Gabby had even burst into tears.

“We're so sorry!” She groveled. “It just happened. I didn't mean to-”

“Shut up.” Chloe rolled her eyes. She had seen Gabby do this a thousand times. She did a pretty job of seeming apologetic, but as soon as her target left, she was back to her fake smiles. Everything about her was so fake. Chloe was disgusted that she had tried so hard to be exactly the same.

“Look, baby, we can fix this.” Michael started. “It didn't mean anything.” That earned him a venomous glare from Gabby.

“No, no, you're both perfect for each other.” Chloe dismissed his words with a wave of her hand. “You're shallow as puddles and as dim as the seventh Pleiad.”

“The seventh what?” Gabby asked. True to her nature, her crocodile tears had evaporated.

“The Pleiads,” Chloe explained, “Are the seven daughters of Atlas. They are also a group of stars near Orion's belt. One member of the group is so dim and far away that you can't see her with the naked eye.” She laughed sharply at their mystified expressions. “I learned that from a book. I read you know. I read a lot. I know words that would mystify you. Rather than me explain all the things you don't know, you should just leave.”

They continued to stare at her as if she'd sprouted a second head. “When did you get freckles?” Gabby asked after a moment of stunned silence.

“When I was four. I've just been wearing enough make-up for the past few years to hide them. Now, if you will please.” She gestured towards the door. “Exit. Sortie, sil-vous-plait.” The two finally moved towards the door, collected their stuff, and left. They both gave her one last glance over their shoulders. Chloe slammed the door.

She went to the bathroom and leaned over the sink, cleaning off the rest of her face. When she dried her face and looked in the mirror again, she barely recognized herself. She hadn't seen that face for too many years. Her freckles glared out from her skin. Her nose was too big. Her eyes looked huge without the layers of dark make-up. And she grinned at her reflection, the quintessential self that she had tried to hide for far too long. Underneath, she'd never changed.

Widdershins

One of the earlier pieces I wrote for this collection, and probably my least favourite. However, I can't seem to find the one I was going to upload today, so here we are. I hope you enjoy it!

   

            Amilee stopped before the ancient castle and looked up, her mouth open with awe. Thought the castle was clearly a gutted, hollow version of it's former glory, it was still magnificent. The dark, brooding stone walls stood before her, as strong and proud as they ever had been, but now slick with moss and bearded with climbing vines that tried their best to choke the life out of the stone. Ami glanced at her map. She had gotten a tour guide to mark out all the castles in the area, but this one wasn't on it. She frowned, thoughtfully. Perhaps she should turn back. Try another castle tomorrow. She reached for her camera and snapped a picture of the thing.

            She turned left to walk around the structure, and a dull glint caught her eye. She moved aside the clinging vines and saw a metal plate that, though tarnished and mottled from the elements, was clearly recent. “Do not go widdershins 'bout the place, if you do, you're theirs to take.” Her lips formed the words as she read them, and as she did, a heavy chill of prophecy settled on her like a drift of heavy snow.

            “Widdershins?” She asked aloud, raising an eyebrow. What did that even mean? I should go back to the inn, she decided. But she'd hiked out a few hours just to reach this spot. It couldn't hurt to take a circuit around the place. And that sign was obviously someone's silly idea of a trick.

            She continued around the building, trailing her left hand against the wall as she when. She took a few more pictures, but didn't go into the castle, though she saw a few doors that had fallen off their hinges invitingly. She walked quickly, feeling watched, somehow. Finally, she returned to the original spot, where the brass plate was. She pulled out her camera and went to take a picture of it.

            The words now read, “Too late, too late.” She frowned at it. Hadn't it read something different before? She dimly remembered the word widdershins, but that might have been on the morning crossword that the innkeeper had been working on.

             She touched the metal and froze. The camera dropped from her hand, and the flash went off as it hit the ground.

***

            “Ah'm tellin' ye, if she came this way it's like as not that the bogans took her.” The old man grumbled to the innkeeper. He was wheezing slightly from the long hike, even though they'd driven as far as they could.

            “Come off it, Da, bogans and boggles and what all else yer on about dinnae exist.” The innkeeper rolled his eyes. “'sides, she's an American, they're a practical people. Not like to be dragged off into fairy-land.”

            “Suit yerself, boy.” His father retorted. “But I knows what these hills are like.”

            The innkeeper stumbled over what he thought was a rock. He kicked it, but it didn't make a rock sound as it bounced a few feet forward. “Wait a moment.” He leaned down and picked up the thing.

            “Is that the lass' camera?” The older man asked.

            “Yes.”

            “She never went nowhere without it.”

            “I ken.”

            “The bogans took her, ye've got to know it.”

            “Aye, da, Maybe they did.”

Leviathan

                The waves crashed loudly against the small boat, rocking it savagely. The wind howled, and the rain pounded against the water and the boat, feeling like needles against the lone occupant’s skin whenever he peered out from under the tarp that he had managed to secure against the storm.

                It had to end soon.  Until it did, he was trapped under the blue ceiling of his cheap plastic tarp. He had just gone out for a brief little cruise. He remembered his mother warning him not to, her worried face as she peered at the horizon. “Storms coming in,” She had warned him. “Maybe you had better stay inside.”

                Of course, Dan had felt the call of the ocean. That salt heavy air that invaded his mind and drew him away from the land, even when it was dangerous. “It’s alright, mom,” He’d replied. “I’ll be back in an hour or so. There’s no way that storms gonna hit before I get back.” It did though. It hit hard and fast as soon as Dan was as far from the shore as he’d planned to go. 

                The little craft was taking in water, but not too fast. After a few hours, it reached his ankles. Dan grabbed the little bucket that his Grandfather always kept in the boat, and tried to bail out the water.  Every time he lifted the tarp to empty the bucket, however, more water came in than he was getting out. He abandoned his efforts quickly.

                Time passed. It dripped passed, slow as molasses. Dan began to nod off, the terror of the storm took a toll on his mind, and he folded over into an exhausted slump.

                He woke up after what seemed like only a few minutes. He listened to the storm outside, his heart sinking. It still wasn’t over?

                He was sure that the rain was beginning to lessen, though.  The rain didn’t sting nearly as much as it had before, when Dan stuck his hand out to test it.  And maybe it was just his imagination, but were the waves lessening? He pulled the tarp off of his head, and looked around. The rain had settled to a light patter, and the waves, though still towering, weren’t as high as they were before, now that the wind had dropped.

                Dan reached over to the motor of the boat and gave an experimental tug on the starter cable. It roared to life almost instantly. He gently turned the boat. The waves were always beating towards the shore, his grandfather had told him. He started off that way, hoping to reach land before nightfall.

                With the waves calming down, Dan was taken completely by surprise when a wall of water rose up and knocked him right out of the boat. The boat itself didn’t capsize, and with the motor still running, was still speeding away before Dan realized he wasn’t in it.  He kicked off his shoes and swam to the surface. He tried to catch up with the boat, but it was still going too fast. Before he had swum ten feet, the boat had sped out of sight.

                He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to think. He was a good swimmer. The boat would probably reach shore before he did, but it was still going the right way. And now that the storm had passed, it wouldn’t be too illogical to swim to shore. It’s not like it made any sense to give up and drown.  He took another deep breath and began swimming after the boat.

                He didn’t know long he’d been swimming before he spotted land. His arms and legs burned from the effort, and he was breathing heavily. His ribs burned. He had ditched his sweater pretty early on; the fabric had gotten too heavy and dragged him down.  It was getting dark now. It had been early morning when he had left, but Dan had no idea how long the storm itself had lasted.

                He continued his swim toward the shore, the sight of it enough to give him the energy to continue. Nevertheless, when he finally pulled himself onto the hard, rocky shore, it was full dark. He pulled himself free of the oceans chilly embrace, and collapsed into sleep.

                He woke to the sun shining in his eyes. He groaned and sat up, his whole body protesting its marathon swim from the previous day.  As he moved, his clothes cracked and shed glittering salt crystals. He barely noticed, however, as he looked around. The ground beneath him was smooth and black, already warm from the morning sun. It was almost like asphalt, which didn’t make a lot of sense. There were no trees, no houses, and no animals, not as far as he could see. The only land mark was some sort of ridge and a shape that looked suspiciously like his boat.

                He struggled to his feet , feeling the world lurch underneath him. It’s probably just me, He thought, forcing his weak legs to head towards what he hoped was his boat. The world lurched again, making Dan pitch forwards. He fell to his knees, and looked around, trying to figure out the source of the movement. It didn’t take much to figure out. The ridge at the far end of the narrow island had risen into the air.  The island twisted and moved, and, rising from the sea, turning to look at the insignificant creature on its back, was a giant snake monster.

                Dan stared, open mouthed at the creature, frozen with terror. The things red eyes locked with his, and it leaned closer, it’s forked tongue flicking out, hitting Dan in the chest, burning a hole through his salt-stained t-shirt. Dan screamed. He lurched to his feet and ran for the boat, his bare feet pounding over the creatures dark skin.  He felt it bucking and moving beneath him, and dove for the boat, heart pounding, mouth dry. He scrambled for the starter cable, but there was no need; The engine was still running from the previous night. He gunned it, speeding over the waves and away from the thing.

                The boat ran out of gas before long, but  Dan just slumped forward, his heart beating erratically.  He let the boat slowly drift where it would. He didn’t notice when the boat was deposited onto a sandy beach, didn’t notice when strong hands lifted him out of the boat, didn’t hear his mother screaming and crying, didn’t feel the shock of electricity running through him, again and again.

                When his heart started beating again, all he did was sleep. Dan’s grandfather shook his head sadly and wrapped his arm around his daughter, who has crying with relief that her son was alive. The old man didn’t cry, but sighed heavily. The boy was alive, but the burn on his chest meant only one thing. Dan had had a run in with the Leviathan.

                And he would never be the same.

Sorry about the length of it. I don't have the picture for one of the shorter ones, and I figure you might as well read this as much as one of the others. 

I hope you enjoyed reading it, comments and feedback are always appreciated!

Promises to Keep

A short story collection I put together and bound for my ISU project in Writers Craft.

I'm sorry that the pictures are sideways. I don't know how to fix it. I'll upload one of the stories tomorrow.