He could feel its thick, hard nails pressing down ever so lightly on his soft, sensitive neck. Asher was shaking, feeling the edges of its nails that left trails of dirt and something sticky on his skin.
“P-p-please...” Asher started, begging for his life like it was the only thing left he could do. “P-please don’t...”
He didn’t know how he’d finish that sentence. What could this monster possibly do? Would it kill him? Or would it play with him first and torture him as much as Asher could take until there was no more of his will left. He didn’t know and didn’t want to, but how could he get out of a situation like this!?
The creature hissed the same low, harsh hiss that Asher had heard a couple or more times before, right after he’d entered the castle. It continued to run its dirty, rough hands over the shaking boy as if it were trying to calm a hysteric baby. But Asher stayed quiet, afraid that a single sudden sound from him would trigger a bad reaction and he was not too keen on the idea of getting his head suddenly ripped off from his own body.
Calm down, Asher, he thought, shutting his eyes tight as he bit his lips, trying to bear the moment as if it would pass.
His thoughts were interrupted by a low growl that emitted from the creature. It turned into a husky, psychotic kind of laugh and Asher felt more tears threatening to slide down his cheeks. He tried hard to will them off and keep them from sliding down his face and onto the creature. He just hoped that it would get bored of him before the thought of hurting him in any kind of way would pass through the creature’s head.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
11 - Into The Castle
The creature stopped breathing and Asher grew nervous, waiting to hear the sound of it again.
Please, just be dead...
Asher doubted this would be, but he was too desperate for any logic.
Still afraid to move, Asher kept himself hushed and deathly still.
Maybe it’s waiting...like a hunter...
The thought freaked him out and he wanted nothing more than to just get as far away from the creature; from here, the castle- as far away as he can. Like the prey that I am...
He bit his lower lip, trying to keep himself from screaming from the top of his lungs. Tears were forming at the corner of his eyes and they slowly rolled down his cheeks, his face red and hot with fear. His heart was still beating to a rapid pace and he wondered if the creature- the monster could hear it.
Asher gulped down. He heard the faint sound of the creature’s ragged breathing. Slowly and as if it had something stuck in its throat, in and out, in and out, in and out.
He felt dry, rough skin over his face and he flinched. It was stroking its strange, distorted hands over Asher’s face. The boy felt chills run down his arms. The creature could feel the beating of the boy’s heart when his fingers traced over a vein or an artery, and ignored the tears it smeared. It snickered, an evil and harsh sound that made Asher whimper with fear.
***Not much of an update. Sorry, haven't had much time to write, but I'll make some time soon enough! Ciao.
Please, just be dead...
Asher doubted this would be, but he was too desperate for any logic.
Still afraid to move, Asher kept himself hushed and deathly still.
Maybe it’s waiting...like a hunter...
The thought freaked him out and he wanted nothing more than to just get as far away from the creature; from here, the castle- as far away as he can. Like the prey that I am...
He bit his lower lip, trying to keep himself from screaming from the top of his lungs. Tears were forming at the corner of his eyes and they slowly rolled down his cheeks, his face red and hot with fear. His heart was still beating to a rapid pace and he wondered if the creature- the monster could hear it.
Asher gulped down. He heard the faint sound of the creature’s ragged breathing. Slowly and as if it had something stuck in its throat, in and out, in and out, in and out.
He felt dry, rough skin over his face and he flinched. It was stroking its strange, distorted hands over Asher’s face. The boy felt chills run down his arms. The creature could feel the beating of the boy’s heart when his fingers traced over a vein or an artery, and ignored the tears it smeared. It snickered, an evil and harsh sound that made Asher whimper with fear.
***Not much of an update. Sorry, haven't had much time to write, but I'll make some time soon enough! Ciao.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
10 - Into The Castle
He looked around, feeling desperate to do something. He wondered if prisoners from long ago had any way of escaping their incarcerations and if there were, maybe he could find them.
Asher walked forward, carefully taking his steps in case he was to land his foot on top of something that was still alive. If that mouse is alive, then maybe there’s a way of keeping myself alive in here, too, he thought.
The problem was that he didn’t know if the mouse had just crawled through a hole from the outside and somehow found its way here. He had no doubt that it had other exits from this room as mice always found ways to get in and out of certain places.
“Maybe I can dig a hole out of here, too,” he hoped.
He ducked again, going down on his elbows and knees, searching for a light of some sort and running his fingers against the walls to find the mouse holes. Where did it come from?
He was getting his pants dirty and luckily he wore a short sleeved shirt so he had no worries about ruining the sleeves, but after all he’d done today, he couldn’t believe that he wasn’t already covered in so much dirt.
Squeak!
“Agh!” He stumbled on his back, pushing away from the sound. That squeak had been too close to his ears. He shivered in the thought of being so close to a mouse. And he only hoped it was one.
He was breathing heavily, startled and disgusted.
He heard himself breathing in then out; that same exercise that usually helped to calm him down and lower his stress.
In then out. In then out. In then out. In then...
Wait a minute, Asher thought, already calm and now only confused. He stopped and held his breath. There was something else...
In then out. In then out. In then out.
W-who...? Asher was shaking. He wouldn’t dare move, but he couldn’t help shaking. There was someone else...or something that was here!
Please just be a really big mouse...
He felt his heart beating a rapid speed. He wanted a heart attack to kill him more than finding out what this creature could be. His fear was back, threatening to linger around to laugh at him as sweat ran down his forehead.
Please just be a mouse!!
He stayed as still as possible and so did the other presence. It continued breathing its heavy breathing, its odor wafting into Asher’s nose, which explained most of what he had smelled earlier.
It was the repulsing and pungent stench that had greeted him from the beginning. It scared him that maybe this creature knew he’d be coming and so hunted him down here.
I’m just dreaming, he yelled in thought. He tried to tell himself to wake up; that this all was just a bad dream and he’d wake up to a beautiful, sunny morning that would reward him with the smell of his neighbor’s baking.
Yes, just dreaming. “This is all just a dream.”
Before he knew it, he realized the words had come out of his mouth. He kicked himself in thought for letting anything be said out loud.
Asher walked forward, carefully taking his steps in case he was to land his foot on top of something that was still alive. If that mouse is alive, then maybe there’s a way of keeping myself alive in here, too, he thought.
The problem was that he didn’t know if the mouse had just crawled through a hole from the outside and somehow found its way here. He had no doubt that it had other exits from this room as mice always found ways to get in and out of certain places.
“Maybe I can dig a hole out of here, too,” he hoped.
He ducked again, going down on his elbows and knees, searching for a light of some sort and running his fingers against the walls to find the mouse holes. Where did it come from?
He was getting his pants dirty and luckily he wore a short sleeved shirt so he had no worries about ruining the sleeves, but after all he’d done today, he couldn’t believe that he wasn’t already covered in so much dirt.
Squeak!
“Agh!” He stumbled on his back, pushing away from the sound. That squeak had been too close to his ears. He shivered in the thought of being so close to a mouse. And he only hoped it was one.
He was breathing heavily, startled and disgusted.
He heard himself breathing in then out; that same exercise that usually helped to calm him down and lower his stress.
In then out. In then out. In then out. In then...
Wait a minute, Asher thought, already calm and now only confused. He stopped and held his breath. There was something else...
In then out. In then out. In then out.
W-who...? Asher was shaking. He wouldn’t dare move, but he couldn’t help shaking. There was someone else...or something that was here!
Please just be a really big mouse...
He felt his heart beating a rapid speed. He wanted a heart attack to kill him more than finding out what this creature could be. His fear was back, threatening to linger around to laugh at him as sweat ran down his forehead.
Please just be a mouse!!
He stayed as still as possible and so did the other presence. It continued breathing its heavy breathing, its odor wafting into Asher’s nose, which explained most of what he had smelled earlier.
It was the repulsing and pungent stench that had greeted him from the beginning. It scared him that maybe this creature knew he’d be coming and so hunted him down here.
I’m just dreaming, he yelled in thought. He tried to tell himself to wake up; that this all was just a bad dream and he’d wake up to a beautiful, sunny morning that would reward him with the smell of his neighbor’s baking.
Yes, just dreaming. “This is all just a dream.”
Before he knew it, he realized the words had come out of his mouth. He kicked himself in thought for letting anything be said out loud.
Monday, May 25, 2009
9 - Into The Castle
He was deep underground now, he guessed, by the length of time that he’d been going down stairs. It was the strong smell of nature, too, that hinted it, which was what cancelled out the other smell.
It grew colder, which only made sense, and his clothes were still pretty wet. “Not one of my best days, that’s for sure,” he muttered to himself, feeling around the walls.
They were lumpy and made of dirt. He even felt a bug crawl on his hand and he shook it away as if it were just dust.
Bugs, he wasn’t afraid of. They were only smaller and more annoying than humans like himself and he had no problem with that as long as they didn’t swarm all over him.
His hand continued to drag along the dirt wall and stopped when he felt something cold and wiry.
“What’s this?”
It was thick and metal-like, but also felt rusty. Past that one was about a few inches space and more of the same cold, wiry metal. He felt around with both his hands and realized they were bars.
“Like a cage,” he whispered, losing his breath. Asher swallowed this information in hard. He’d gone too far down underground the castle. The only place he could be at right now was the dungeon. “The only place I didn’t want to end up at and here I am,” he said, worriedly.
The thin bars weren’t strong and even some were bent. There was one part at the very bottom where it was anything but straight and even. They were bent angularly and even a few were broken and missing bars to connect all the way to the ground. The ends of the broken bars were jagged, as if they’d been ripped right off.
“Who could do that, though?” He thought out loud.
Asher remembered from his textbooks and history class at school, the people from long ago who could’ve been prisoners seemed small and weak. They were usually from poor villages nearby who had nothing to give or offer them as taxes and so lost their freedom due to the selfishness and greed of the higher class society that lived in castles.
He knelt down on cold dirt, his hand blindly searching around for the other missing bars. Instead of that though, his hand landed on something small and furry. It squeaked.
Asher gasped and quickly retreated his hand.
Just a mouse. He hoped it wasn’t carrying any diseases or he surely wouldn’t know what to do.
“Not that it matters if I don’t get out of here,” he gulped. He’d get out of here. He would. Right?
He wondered if he really would. It was dark and he was pretty much lost and deep underground a castle that no one knew he’d gone to. Except for that girl at the café.
“Not that she’d be any help.”
If the police couldn’t find the missing people from before, then what were the chances that they’d find Asher?
“How am I ever going to find my way back up?” He asked himself, frustrated. “Or out of here at all?”
It grew colder, which only made sense, and his clothes were still pretty wet. “Not one of my best days, that’s for sure,” he muttered to himself, feeling around the walls.
They were lumpy and made of dirt. He even felt a bug crawl on his hand and he shook it away as if it were just dust.
Bugs, he wasn’t afraid of. They were only smaller and more annoying than humans like himself and he had no problem with that as long as they didn’t swarm all over him.
His hand continued to drag along the dirt wall and stopped when he felt something cold and wiry.
“What’s this?”
It was thick and metal-like, but also felt rusty. Past that one was about a few inches space and more of the same cold, wiry metal. He felt around with both his hands and realized they were bars.
“Like a cage,” he whispered, losing his breath. Asher swallowed this information in hard. He’d gone too far down underground the castle. The only place he could be at right now was the dungeon. “The only place I didn’t want to end up at and here I am,” he said, worriedly.
The thin bars weren’t strong and even some were bent. There was one part at the very bottom where it was anything but straight and even. They were bent angularly and even a few were broken and missing bars to connect all the way to the ground. The ends of the broken bars were jagged, as if they’d been ripped right off.
“Who could do that, though?” He thought out loud.
Asher remembered from his textbooks and history class at school, the people from long ago who could’ve been prisoners seemed small and weak. They were usually from poor villages nearby who had nothing to give or offer them as taxes and so lost their freedom due to the selfishness and greed of the higher class society that lived in castles.
He knelt down on cold dirt, his hand blindly searching around for the other missing bars. Instead of that though, his hand landed on something small and furry. It squeaked.
Asher gasped and quickly retreated his hand.
Just a mouse. He hoped it wasn’t carrying any diseases or he surely wouldn’t know what to do.
“Not that it matters if I don’t get out of here,” he gulped. He’d get out of here. He would. Right?
He wondered if he really would. It was dark and he was pretty much lost and deep underground a castle that no one knew he’d gone to. Except for that girl at the café.
“Not that she’d be any help.”
If the police couldn’t find the missing people from before, then what were the chances that they’d find Asher?
“How am I ever going to find my way back up?” He asked himself, frustrated. “Or out of here at all?”
Sunday, May 24, 2009
8 - Into The Castle
It sounded like an echo, as if it was in a canal or something; somewhere hollow and damp.
Asher wondered at what part of the castle he was in. He hoped desperately he hadn’t found a way into the dungeon. It was a frightening thought.
He took a step forward and another step. The next step made him gasp as it sent him stumbling down farther into the dark and he fell on wet ground. He groaned, the pain shooting up the arm that he’d landed on. His legs were also twisted and his head started throbbing.
Asher fixed himself up, untangling his body. His clothes were now lightly soaked but at least it wasn’t as bad as the rain outside.
The fall had surprised him, but realized that it was only a few steps of stairs that he’d tripped himself on.
Asher felt dirt on his face. He’d already had a shower that morning and hated the feeling of dirt on his skin. This was getting frustrating, but Asher didn’t want to go back into his negative thoughts and just kept moving forward.
The walls were narrowing, he could feel as both of his arms were outstretched to his sides. The walls were also wet and he felt his fingers running over dirt and mold, as well as cobwebs and other sorts.
The ground turned a little uneven. More stairs? Must be a stairwell...
He didn’t know much about castles and actually had never been in one. He chuckled to himself. This was the first time he’d ever been in a castle before, he realized. It gave him a satisfying feeling.
He also turned out to be right about the stairwell. The walls spiraled, as well the ground turned into steps, bumpy and uneven, not at all like a normal stairway. It led him down and continued in that one direction. He could only guess what was inside the towers and rooms on the upper levels, but he was going down to the lower levels and had no idea what was in store for himself.
The smell grew stronger and it worsened. Asher made a sour face. He did not like this one bit and hoped that this was the worst it could get, though doubted it. Deeper inside, in the heart of the castle, there must be something that was creating the horrible stench.
He thought of the missing people again. There was a very good chance that they were the cause of the smell.
Dead bodies.
Goosebumps ran down his arm. It didn’t help that his clothes were dampened already either. He slid off his coat and sighed. It was his only one and one of his favorite articles of clothing. It would be a shame to just leave it, but it was already pretty much ruined.
“No time to be a spoiled brat,” he muttered to himself. But he just couldn’t help biting down on his lip and then came to the decision of keeping it with him. He held it in one arm. It would be useful if it got cold, not that a wet coat would help.
His foot landed finally on solid even ground and this being so, he guessed there would be no further steps.
He couldn’t help but to take a breath in. The smell came through his nose. It hadn’t worsened at all. In fact, the horrible smell was actually almost blocked out by a different kind of smell; more natural and earthy.
Asher wondered at what part of the castle he was in. He hoped desperately he hadn’t found a way into the dungeon. It was a frightening thought.
He took a step forward and another step. The next step made him gasp as it sent him stumbling down farther into the dark and he fell on wet ground. He groaned, the pain shooting up the arm that he’d landed on. His legs were also twisted and his head started throbbing.
Asher fixed himself up, untangling his body. His clothes were now lightly soaked but at least it wasn’t as bad as the rain outside.
The fall had surprised him, but realized that it was only a few steps of stairs that he’d tripped himself on.
Asher felt dirt on his face. He’d already had a shower that morning and hated the feeling of dirt on his skin. This was getting frustrating, but Asher didn’t want to go back into his negative thoughts and just kept moving forward.
The walls were narrowing, he could feel as both of his arms were outstretched to his sides. The walls were also wet and he felt his fingers running over dirt and mold, as well as cobwebs and other sorts.
The ground turned a little uneven. More stairs? Must be a stairwell...
He didn’t know much about castles and actually had never been in one. He chuckled to himself. This was the first time he’d ever been in a castle before, he realized. It gave him a satisfying feeling.
He also turned out to be right about the stairwell. The walls spiraled, as well the ground turned into steps, bumpy and uneven, not at all like a normal stairway. It led him down and continued in that one direction. He could only guess what was inside the towers and rooms on the upper levels, but he was going down to the lower levels and had no idea what was in store for himself.
The smell grew stronger and it worsened. Asher made a sour face. He did not like this one bit and hoped that this was the worst it could get, though doubted it. Deeper inside, in the heart of the castle, there must be something that was creating the horrible stench.
He thought of the missing people again. There was a very good chance that they were the cause of the smell.
Dead bodies.
Goosebumps ran down his arm. It didn’t help that his clothes were dampened already either. He slid off his coat and sighed. It was his only one and one of his favorite articles of clothing. It would be a shame to just leave it, but it was already pretty much ruined.
“No time to be a spoiled brat,” he muttered to himself. But he just couldn’t help biting down on his lip and then came to the decision of keeping it with him. He held it in one arm. It would be useful if it got cold, not that a wet coat would help.
His foot landed finally on solid even ground and this being so, he guessed there would be no further steps.
He couldn’t help but to take a breath in. The smell came through his nose. It hadn’t worsened at all. In fact, the horrible smell was actually almost blocked out by a different kind of smell; more natural and earthy.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Slammin' Up A Poem
So this is my slam poetry that I wrote up using the prompt that my Writing teacher had given us all. I didn't have to use this, but I did, cuz it just seemed to flow somehow and enough people liked it.
I, on the other hand, am not a fan of poetry with this type of subject/topic. It may seem whiny and all and love/broken love poetry seems over done, over used, and overrated.
I've had someone comment and say that this poem is just about a woman bitching about a man. In a way, I guess it can be...if that's how you want to look at it. Not really what I was going for though.
Enjoy.
The things you should’ve done/been – slam poetry
By Celeste Medina
You weren’t very vocal.
You weren’t very clear.
Couldn’t you speak louder so someone could hear?
You should’ve smiled once in a while
And kept in my sight.
You were always messing around and arguing with me
But you should’ve been the one to defend me in fights.
You should’ve been more careful with knives;
Been more aware!
You should’ve known what would happen when you sat on that broken chair.
It was a laugh!
You were always making me laugh;
Always making jokes in my behalf.
You should’ve done some things different, too, though
Like jumped on that plane to see your dying mother
Or gone to that restaurant with me when I invited you out for dinner.
You should’ve held me in your arms when I complained,
“It’s too cold!”
You should’ve been the one to have that silly heart of gold.
You should’ve been confident.
You should’ve been true.
You should’ve understood when I threw that shoe at you.
You should’ve made me laugh then when I was feeling all alone;
The only times you never paid attention to me.
You should’ve given me half of that pie you didn’t own.
You can be so selfish...to a certain degree.
You should’ve washed those dishes when I asked you to;
Kept my secrets when you said, “I do.”
You should’ve been more obedient even though you didn’t have to be.
You should’ve made some time for a little you and me.
You should’ve cried when you were feeling upset.
I know you’re a man, but to be so egotistic?
You should’ve stayed home that night it was soaking wet.
Come on now, where could you go? Be realistic.
You should’ve caught those looks I threw
And had the courage and confidence, too.
You should’ve let me drive your car.
Just let me be your shining star.
You should’ve hollered when I couldn’t hear.
You should’ve gone away with me for that one long year.
You should’ve had a little more sense.
You should’ve surprised me with flowers and sweets.
You should’ve come to my defense when I had that argument with that man from the street.
You should’ve been warm
And inviting.
You should’ve been more than just good-looking.
You should’ve leaned closer to me when I whispered in your ears.
You should’ve been happier in all our long years.
You should’ve fixed the basement door; the hinges were always creaking
And the pipes under the sink; those wouldn’t stop leaking!
You should’ve asked if I ever needed help.
You should’ve thought of someone other than yourself.
You should’ve just been my knight in shining armor.
But even though you weren’t,
It was always easy for you to win me over.
***Damn, right? You might think that the poem's great, but my performance when I had presented it did not match up. I was shaking the whole time and still was afterwards when it was all over. My words did not know how to walk...Hah! I kept falling and stumbling on my words, I mean.
Also: It kinda sucks when you have someone before you present such an amazing- or should I say 'slammin' poem, and you just fail to deliver the same kind of performance. D=
I, on the other hand, am not a fan of poetry with this type of subject/topic. It may seem whiny and all and love/broken love poetry seems over done, over used, and overrated.
I've had someone comment and say that this poem is just about a woman bitching about a man. In a way, I guess it can be...if that's how you want to look at it. Not really what I was going for though.
Enjoy.
The things you should’ve done/been – slam poetry
By Celeste Medina
You weren’t very vocal.
You weren’t very clear.
Couldn’t you speak louder so someone could hear?
You should’ve smiled once in a while
And kept in my sight.
You were always messing around and arguing with me
But you should’ve been the one to defend me in fights.
You should’ve been more careful with knives;
Been more aware!
You should’ve known what would happen when you sat on that broken chair.
It was a laugh!
You were always making me laugh;
Always making jokes in my behalf.
You should’ve done some things different, too, though
Like jumped on that plane to see your dying mother
Or gone to that restaurant with me when I invited you out for dinner.
You should’ve held me in your arms when I complained,
“It’s too cold!”
You should’ve been the one to have that silly heart of gold.
You should’ve been confident.
You should’ve been true.
You should’ve understood when I threw that shoe at you.
You should’ve made me laugh then when I was feeling all alone;
The only times you never paid attention to me.
You should’ve given me half of that pie you didn’t own.
You can be so selfish...to a certain degree.
You should’ve washed those dishes when I asked you to;
Kept my secrets when you said, “I do.”
You should’ve been more obedient even though you didn’t have to be.
You should’ve made some time for a little you and me.
You should’ve cried when you were feeling upset.
I know you’re a man, but to be so egotistic?
You should’ve stayed home that night it was soaking wet.
Come on now, where could you go? Be realistic.
You should’ve caught those looks I threw
And had the courage and confidence, too.
You should’ve let me drive your car.
Just let me be your shining star.
You should’ve hollered when I couldn’t hear.
You should’ve gone away with me for that one long year.
You should’ve had a little more sense.
You should’ve surprised me with flowers and sweets.
You should’ve come to my defense when I had that argument with that man from the street.
You should’ve been warm
And inviting.
You should’ve been more than just good-looking.
You should’ve leaned closer to me when I whispered in your ears.
You should’ve been happier in all our long years.
You should’ve fixed the basement door; the hinges were always creaking
And the pipes under the sink; those wouldn’t stop leaking!
You should’ve asked if I ever needed help.
You should’ve thought of someone other than yourself.
You should’ve just been my knight in shining armor.
But even though you weren’t,
It was always easy for you to win me over.
***Damn, right? You might think that the poem's great, but my performance when I had presented it did not match up. I was shaking the whole time and still was afterwards when it was all over. My words did not know how to walk...Hah! I kept falling and stumbling on my words, I mean.
Also: It kinda sucks when you have someone before you present such an amazing- or should I say 'slammin' poem, and you just fail to deliver the same kind of performance. D=
7 - Into The Castle
There was another hiss. He heard it! He was sure he heard it! He had to have!
Asher looked frantically and blindly from left to right and right to left, seeing nothing, hearing nothing more, and smelling only the horrible disgusting stench of decay. It smelled as if something had died in the tightly confined air. He wouldn’t be surprised. People came here all the time and went missing. Oh God! He hoped it wasn’t what he was thinking.
“Please, please no...” he whispered in one long breath.
He gulped, hoping it was just some animal that got in through a hole and got lost trying to figure its way out. It couldn’t be a dead body-
Make that dead bodies, he thought in plural form. There were so many people who’d gone missing; he wouldn’t even dare count how many bodies there could be.
Stop it! Don’t think like that!
It was a dead animal. It was a dead animal. It was a dead animal. Asher thought that if he kept thinking this way, he’d eventually actually believe it, though right now, he just didn’t know what to believe.
But then what about that hiss? No dead body could’ve made that or else it was a zombie and he refused to go into that state of mind. There’s no such thing as zombies. No such thing!
It must've been an animal; some sort of hissing animal that was also trapped and lost in the dark. The poor thing must be just as afraid as he was.
With this convinced, Asher sighed and cleared his head.
The noises, the smell, the darkness; they were all distracting him from what he really came here for. It was his curiosity. Now who was the one that said ‘curiosity killed the cat?’
Asher smiled, chuckling nervously. It was a wrong decision and misjudgment. He never should’ve come here; never should’ve gone in, especially through the side door; never should’ve tried to make his one eighteenth birthday so different from all the rest of his other birthdays. “Why try to be so special?”
He slowly got over his fear of the quiet darkness and started thinking his thoughts out loud. “Why did you even come here in the first place? It’s not as if you’re the first to even try.”
His tense muscles loosened as he practiced the breathing exercise of taking a deep breath in then out, in then out, and so on until he was sure he was completely calm.
Asher shook his head, regaining his senses. I’d be an idiot for coming here just so I can be scared out of my wits, he thought.
It was true. That was what everyone else had done, taking flights and crossing borders just to come to a castle they believed to be haunted or something. Those people were idiots. Asher was an intelligent and independent young man and he was most definitely smarter than that.
So then why am I here?
Asher pushed himself to move, he was blind in the dark, and was smart enough to figure out he had other senses to use. Though his nose still could not get past much of the thick, rotting smell, he could still use his ears and hands.
No more strange hissing noises came to scare him, but now that he was concentrating on distinct sorts of sounds, he could hear water dripping from somewhere nearby.
Asher looked frantically and blindly from left to right and right to left, seeing nothing, hearing nothing more, and smelling only the horrible disgusting stench of decay. It smelled as if something had died in the tightly confined air. He wouldn’t be surprised. People came here all the time and went missing. Oh God! He hoped it wasn’t what he was thinking.
“Please, please no...” he whispered in one long breath.
He gulped, hoping it was just some animal that got in through a hole and got lost trying to figure its way out. It couldn’t be a dead body-
Make that dead bodies, he thought in plural form. There were so many people who’d gone missing; he wouldn’t even dare count how many bodies there could be.
Stop it! Don’t think like that!
It was a dead animal. It was a dead animal. It was a dead animal. Asher thought that if he kept thinking this way, he’d eventually actually believe it, though right now, he just didn’t know what to believe.
But then what about that hiss? No dead body could’ve made that or else it was a zombie and he refused to go into that state of mind. There’s no such thing as zombies. No such thing!
It must've been an animal; some sort of hissing animal that was also trapped and lost in the dark. The poor thing must be just as afraid as he was.
With this convinced, Asher sighed and cleared his head.
The noises, the smell, the darkness; they were all distracting him from what he really came here for. It was his curiosity. Now who was the one that said ‘curiosity killed the cat?’
Asher smiled, chuckling nervously. It was a wrong decision and misjudgment. He never should’ve come here; never should’ve gone in, especially through the side door; never should’ve tried to make his one eighteenth birthday so different from all the rest of his other birthdays. “Why try to be so special?”
He slowly got over his fear of the quiet darkness and started thinking his thoughts out loud. “Why did you even come here in the first place? It’s not as if you’re the first to even try.”
His tense muscles loosened as he practiced the breathing exercise of taking a deep breath in then out, in then out, and so on until he was sure he was completely calm.
Asher shook his head, regaining his senses. I’d be an idiot for coming here just so I can be scared out of my wits, he thought.
It was true. That was what everyone else had done, taking flights and crossing borders just to come to a castle they believed to be haunted or something. Those people were idiots. Asher was an intelligent and independent young man and he was most definitely smarter than that.
So then why am I here?
Asher pushed himself to move, he was blind in the dark, and was smart enough to figure out he had other senses to use. Though his nose still could not get past much of the thick, rotting smell, he could still use his ears and hands.
No more strange hissing noises came to scare him, but now that he was concentrating on distinct sorts of sounds, he could hear water dripping from somewhere nearby.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
6 - Into The Castle
“Ugh!” As soon as he caught the scent, he brought his hands to his face. The smell was strong and pungent. It made him sick and he gagged, hoping he wouldn’t lose the breakfast he’d just had.
Asher kept his nose covered with an arm, the other arm frantically searching for a wall, pillar, or any sort of concrete surface that would somehow reassure his state of mind. His foot tripped over the other, but he maintained balance from falling, also feeling the need to be as quiet as a mouse.
The silence inside told him to keep still and keep hushed, but it only made the pounding of his heart more audible to his own ears. He was afraid and he could not deny that to himself anymore.
Asher bit his lip. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea, he thought. He looked back, trying to make out the door, but saw nothing. He was lost in the darkness; a big black void and he wished desperately that he was at home, safe where he could enjoy the light and the sight of actual objects.
Hsss.
Asher’s head turned swiftly to the side. What was that?
He kept still, his instincts telling him not to move, not to breathe, only to listen harder for what could have possibly made the faint hissing noise.
It’s just your imagination. Just your imagination. He could feel his heart beating right out of his ribcage. Thu-thump! Thu-thump! Thu-thump!
Asher shut his eyes, getting frantic. Shhh!
He thought by doing this, he could quiet down his heartbeats, but realized what a dumb idea that was. It’s okay! It’s fine! You’re okay! You’re fine!
Chanting in his head worked. It calmed him down and slowed his palpitations. It also distracted him from his fears.
You’re okay, Asher, you’re fine...
Asher blinked. Maybe it was just his imaginations. There was nothing else but silence that swallowed up the empty space all around him.
He took a step forward and stumbled. He did as best as he could to keep any sound from coming out of him.
His leg had bumped into something hard. What could that have been? Asher had images circling his head; a skull, bones, a small furry animal. All his guesses made the fear return once again and he regretted ever taking that one step.
It couldn’t be what he thought it was, whatever he was thinking. He only kept telling himself this to give him courage to find out its true form. Slowly, he crouched down, his hand feeling for the object and felt it against his knuckles after only a few seconds.
He sighed with relief. The object, he could feel, was some sort of container. He guessed it to be an old wooden bucket. The wood was wet, however, and as he was feeling for it, all of a sudden a splinter caught on his finger and he quickly retreated his hand, the pain shooting into his nerves as if it were punishment for touching the object.
Asher whimpered silently, taking a deep breath and a long sigh. He swallowed the pain down and ignored the feeling, terror being the only thing he could feel as he struggled in cold sweat. Christ, he cursed in his head. This was getting ridiculous. He was just panicking. That was it. That was all. Right?
Wrong!
Asher kept his nose covered with an arm, the other arm frantically searching for a wall, pillar, or any sort of concrete surface that would somehow reassure his state of mind. His foot tripped over the other, but he maintained balance from falling, also feeling the need to be as quiet as a mouse.
The silence inside told him to keep still and keep hushed, but it only made the pounding of his heart more audible to his own ears. He was afraid and he could not deny that to himself anymore.
Asher bit his lip. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea, he thought. He looked back, trying to make out the door, but saw nothing. He was lost in the darkness; a big black void and he wished desperately that he was at home, safe where he could enjoy the light and the sight of actual objects.
Hsss.
Asher’s head turned swiftly to the side. What was that?
He kept still, his instincts telling him not to move, not to breathe, only to listen harder for what could have possibly made the faint hissing noise.
It’s just your imagination. Just your imagination. He could feel his heart beating right out of his ribcage. Thu-thump! Thu-thump! Thu-thump!
Asher shut his eyes, getting frantic. Shhh!
He thought by doing this, he could quiet down his heartbeats, but realized what a dumb idea that was. It’s okay! It’s fine! You’re okay! You’re fine!
Chanting in his head worked. It calmed him down and slowed his palpitations. It also distracted him from his fears.
You’re okay, Asher, you’re fine...
Asher blinked. Maybe it was just his imaginations. There was nothing else but silence that swallowed up the empty space all around him.
He took a step forward and stumbled. He did as best as he could to keep any sound from coming out of him.
His leg had bumped into something hard. What could that have been? Asher had images circling his head; a skull, bones, a small furry animal. All his guesses made the fear return once again and he regretted ever taking that one step.
It couldn’t be what he thought it was, whatever he was thinking. He only kept telling himself this to give him courage to find out its true form. Slowly, he crouched down, his hand feeling for the object and felt it against his knuckles after only a few seconds.
He sighed with relief. The object, he could feel, was some sort of container. He guessed it to be an old wooden bucket. The wood was wet, however, and as he was feeling for it, all of a sudden a splinter caught on his finger and he quickly retreated his hand, the pain shooting into his nerves as if it were punishment for touching the object.
Asher whimpered silently, taking a deep breath and a long sigh. He swallowed the pain down and ignored the feeling, terror being the only thing he could feel as he struggled in cold sweat. Christ, he cursed in his head. This was getting ridiculous. He was just panicking. That was it. That was all. Right?
Wrong!
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
5 - Into The Castle
He walked farther up to the entrance and stopped. Something felt strangely off. Asher looked left and right to both sides as if someone were watching him. Chills ran down his spine.
“Just the wind,” he told himself in a mumble. He didn’t actually know for sure, but he refused to scare himself with the thought of a murderous creature awaiting his arrival inside.
He chuckled. How dumb. The thought of it being a silly thing that actually put some fear in him.
The sky dimmed and clouds turned gray. Asher sighed. Please don’t rain...
And just to spite him, little cold droplets scattered down, getting harder and harder. The rain turned out to be heavy, dark weather with lightning illuminating the sky and a thunder that boomed so loud overhead.
“So much for a beautiful day,” he said to himself, as he cursed frustrated and kicked the castle wall beside him. Still, it shouldn’t be a horrible birthday because of it...
He thought about it a little more and knew the rain wouldn’t stop if he tried to will it away. He doubted that it would go just for his one special day, either, and so finally concluded to entering the structure that stood, menacingly, before him.
“It’s not as if I have a choice,” he tried to convince himself with the lie, but he knew that it was really his curiosity that got the better of him. Asher never minded before, walking or standing in the rain. It was usually nice and peaceful in his opinion and a great time to think when you don’t, although Asher already had all the time in the world.
He took a deep breath in and exhaled, walking on the dirt path beside the castle. An old and moldy, wooden side door came into view as he headed further down. The sight was quite the opposite of warm and inviting, but there was only so much shivering and cold that he could take.
The boy ran for it and quickly grasped and turned the rusted, metal handle. It was icy cold and left orange stains on his hand, but this he failed to notice. He pushed the door open, making a loud, creaking noise and wood dust, dirt as well as other particles spread and floated all around him. He sneezed, and sneezed again, trying to wave it all away from his face as he advanced into the shadows.
Asher rubbed his nose. It was good that he didn’t have any allergies or the dust would’ve killed him from the mass amount that suddenly appeared.
It must be an old door...
But if there were so many other people that came to visit this castle, shouldn’t all the doorways be in recent use? The one that Asher had gone through had cried so loud as if it hurt for the door to be opened at all.
It seemed suspicious, but then again, this whole place had given him that feeling from the very beginning.
He sniffed, trying to clear his nose. He hoped he wouldn’t get sick, being out in the rain and then the dust attack. “Oh well,” he shook the thought away. He had more important things to worry about...like the darkness that he’d fallen trapped into.
The confined air smelled musty and old. Then came a strange and unspeakable odor.
“Just the wind,” he told himself in a mumble. He didn’t actually know for sure, but he refused to scare himself with the thought of a murderous creature awaiting his arrival inside.
He chuckled. How dumb. The thought of it being a silly thing that actually put some fear in him.
The sky dimmed and clouds turned gray. Asher sighed. Please don’t rain...
And just to spite him, little cold droplets scattered down, getting harder and harder. The rain turned out to be heavy, dark weather with lightning illuminating the sky and a thunder that boomed so loud overhead.
“So much for a beautiful day,” he said to himself, as he cursed frustrated and kicked the castle wall beside him. Still, it shouldn’t be a horrible birthday because of it...
He thought about it a little more and knew the rain wouldn’t stop if he tried to will it away. He doubted that it would go just for his one special day, either, and so finally concluded to entering the structure that stood, menacingly, before him.
“It’s not as if I have a choice,” he tried to convince himself with the lie, but he knew that it was really his curiosity that got the better of him. Asher never minded before, walking or standing in the rain. It was usually nice and peaceful in his opinion and a great time to think when you don’t, although Asher already had all the time in the world.
He took a deep breath in and exhaled, walking on the dirt path beside the castle. An old and moldy, wooden side door came into view as he headed further down. The sight was quite the opposite of warm and inviting, but there was only so much shivering and cold that he could take.
The boy ran for it and quickly grasped and turned the rusted, metal handle. It was icy cold and left orange stains on his hand, but this he failed to notice. He pushed the door open, making a loud, creaking noise and wood dust, dirt as well as other particles spread and floated all around him. He sneezed, and sneezed again, trying to wave it all away from his face as he advanced into the shadows.
Asher rubbed his nose. It was good that he didn’t have any allergies or the dust would’ve killed him from the mass amount that suddenly appeared.
It must be an old door...
But if there were so many other people that came to visit this castle, shouldn’t all the doorways be in recent use? The one that Asher had gone through had cried so loud as if it hurt for the door to be opened at all.
It seemed suspicious, but then again, this whole place had given him that feeling from the very beginning.
He sniffed, trying to clear his nose. He hoped he wouldn’t get sick, being out in the rain and then the dust attack. “Oh well,” he shook the thought away. He had more important things to worry about...like the darkness that he’d fallen trapped into.
The confined air smelled musty and old. Then came a strange and unspeakable odor.
Monday, May 18, 2009
4 - Into The Castle
Asher only shook his head, turning his gaze out the window where the streets were yet to be filled with crowds of tourists and businessmen that could be there to be on their way or to just stand around with their thoughts and smiles.
The girl brought him his breakfast, gently laying it down on the coffee table and moving aside the mess that was spread across the space taking up the entire surface. She dropped them nonchalantly on the other coffee table that was bigger and held more popularity to customers.
“Thanks.” Asher lifted the steaming mug and his nose was buried into the whipped cream as he took a sip. The liquid burnt his tongue, but he didn’t seem to mind as it would happen every time he drank something hot. There just wasn’t any use to sipping little by little or waiting until it was a little cool. He only thought that it would ruin the quality of the coffee.
When he turned his head up, the server let out a giggle, catching the sight of Asher’s face. “You have a little something all around your mouth,” she laughed.
He didn’t know why, but this made Asher smile. Maybe it was because of the positive energy that the girl was emitting, or maybe it was the coffee’s aroma floating throughout the whole café, or it could even just be that he was eighteen and today was his birthday. Whatever the case was, Asher thought it was a nice sort of atmosphere to start the day with and he wanted to keep the feeling he felt now as long as it would last.
Taking a napkin, he hastily cleaned off his face before any customers would come in and see to make fun of him. The joke, he felt should be only for himself and maybe even the girl and her café. No one else should be able to turn into something else that would ruin it, just because someone might have a different sense of humor.
“So,” he heard the girl start. Her voice was like a flute that turned up a higher tone, which only indicated her happiness of mood. “What are you going to be doing for your birthday, if I may ask?”
Asher, who had taken a bite of his muffin, shrugged with a whimsical expression that sparkled on his face. “Not quite sure,” he said after gulping the remains of food from his mouth. “You know about the castle past East Avenue?”
The girl smiled and nodded. Finally, she got him talking and taking a topic himself to converse about. “Yeah. Do you plan on going there? Isn’t it supposed to be dangerous?” She poured herself a cup of coffee for her own morning wake-up and leaned on the counter, listening intently to Asher’s words as anyone would when their attention’s been taken by someone of interest.
“Yes. To both of your questions.” He wasted no words and felt his heart pumping with fear. It is supposed to be dangerous. The excitement rushed through him and this only encouraged him to do what he’d planned. Now his thoughts were consumed with only that one thing and would be that way for the rest of the day.
The pointed towers stood adamantly still as gusts of wind blew in from the west. His dark bangs brushed along his eyes. He needed a haircut.
Asher shivered in the cold air, blowing out frosty icy breath. The sight of the castle gave him goose bumps, which didn’t help things. It seemed to be deserted and void of tourists. If this place was so famous, wouldn’t it usually have some people loitering around outside? It was hard to believe that they were all wandering the hallways and rooms inside.
The girl brought him his breakfast, gently laying it down on the coffee table and moving aside the mess that was spread across the space taking up the entire surface. She dropped them nonchalantly on the other coffee table that was bigger and held more popularity to customers.
“Thanks.” Asher lifted the steaming mug and his nose was buried into the whipped cream as he took a sip. The liquid burnt his tongue, but he didn’t seem to mind as it would happen every time he drank something hot. There just wasn’t any use to sipping little by little or waiting until it was a little cool. He only thought that it would ruin the quality of the coffee.
When he turned his head up, the server let out a giggle, catching the sight of Asher’s face. “You have a little something all around your mouth,” she laughed.
He didn’t know why, but this made Asher smile. Maybe it was because of the positive energy that the girl was emitting, or maybe it was the coffee’s aroma floating throughout the whole café, or it could even just be that he was eighteen and today was his birthday. Whatever the case was, Asher thought it was a nice sort of atmosphere to start the day with and he wanted to keep the feeling he felt now as long as it would last.
Taking a napkin, he hastily cleaned off his face before any customers would come in and see to make fun of him. The joke, he felt should be only for himself and maybe even the girl and her café. No one else should be able to turn into something else that would ruin it, just because someone might have a different sense of humor.
“So,” he heard the girl start. Her voice was like a flute that turned up a higher tone, which only indicated her happiness of mood. “What are you going to be doing for your birthday, if I may ask?”
Asher, who had taken a bite of his muffin, shrugged with a whimsical expression that sparkled on his face. “Not quite sure,” he said after gulping the remains of food from his mouth. “You know about the castle past East Avenue?”
The girl smiled and nodded. Finally, she got him talking and taking a topic himself to converse about. “Yeah. Do you plan on going there? Isn’t it supposed to be dangerous?” She poured herself a cup of coffee for her own morning wake-up and leaned on the counter, listening intently to Asher’s words as anyone would when their attention’s been taken by someone of interest.
“Yes. To both of your questions.” He wasted no words and felt his heart pumping with fear. It is supposed to be dangerous. The excitement rushed through him and this only encouraged him to do what he’d planned. Now his thoughts were consumed with only that one thing and would be that way for the rest of the day.
The pointed towers stood adamantly still as gusts of wind blew in from the west. His dark bangs brushed along his eyes. He needed a haircut.
Asher shivered in the cold air, blowing out frosty icy breath. The sight of the castle gave him goose bumps, which didn’t help things. It seemed to be deserted and void of tourists. If this place was so famous, wouldn’t it usually have some people loitering around outside? It was hard to believe that they were all wandering the hallways and rooms inside.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
3 - Into The Castle
Maybe something special this time just for himself. He wouldn’t overdo it. He’d think of something that would only just satisfy him with a smile and that would be enough. The thought struck him like lightning and he let out a gasp. Asher bit his lip, contemplating it over. Go to the castle...Be adventurous!
It wasn’t like he was going to go vandalize anything or break the law. It was just a visit. To a tourist site, after all.
He wondered why the castle was still open for visitors. The people of Europe knew how dangerous it was and yet no one was preventing anyone’s passage. This wasn’t the first time the situation had been questioned. There were articles on the newspaper and interviews on television about it and all the authorities ever did was avoid questions that led to anything deeper than that. A reporter even had the nerve to write about how their government was taking advantage of the captivating and curious story behind the castle only for more arrival of tourists. It was actually a great scheme if you wanted more people flooding the streets of England, but nothing could take away the fact that it was cruel and quite monstrous.
Maybe he’d just stand outside and enjoy the scenery from where he was. Asher sighed, finally making up his mind about it.
The cinnamon scent made his mouth water and quickly he walked out the house, taking only his coat with him.
“Good morning,” said the same girl from the last time he was at the café.
Asher nodded with a smile and greeted her back.
“Will you be having the usual?”
The usual being his same cup of coffee and a blueberry muffin, Asher decided to have something else that would make his day a little more special.
“Yes, but with whipped cream on top,” he said, cheerily, taking a seat at his usual spot at the corner with the dim lights. He crossed his legs, getting himself comfortable on the cushions of the sofa.
“Special day?” She went to work making a fresh pot of coffee just for Asher, since he was the very first customer of the day. A muffin was taken from under the glass and put on a plate.
“My birthday,” he mumbled out. His eyes scanned routinely for today’s issue of the paper from all the newspapers and magazines that were stacked in a mess on the coffee table in front of him.
The girl looked up at him, hearing the words, clear and audible. This caught more of her interest and she couldn’t help but ask more questions. “Wow. Happy birthday. How old will you be...if you don’t mind my asking?”
The coffee dripped its last drop and the pot was full to the rim. The aroma filled the room of freshly, brewed coffee and she poured a white mug full, topping it off with plenty of whipped cream.
“Eighteen.” His answers were short and vague. It only bothered the server a little, but she thought of it as a challenge as well. She just hoped he wouldn’t find her too annoying.
“Did you want whipped cream on your muffin as well?”
It wasn’t like he was going to go vandalize anything or break the law. It was just a visit. To a tourist site, after all.
He wondered why the castle was still open for visitors. The people of Europe knew how dangerous it was and yet no one was preventing anyone’s passage. This wasn’t the first time the situation had been questioned. There were articles on the newspaper and interviews on television about it and all the authorities ever did was avoid questions that led to anything deeper than that. A reporter even had the nerve to write about how their government was taking advantage of the captivating and curious story behind the castle only for more arrival of tourists. It was actually a great scheme if you wanted more people flooding the streets of England, but nothing could take away the fact that it was cruel and quite monstrous.
Maybe he’d just stand outside and enjoy the scenery from where he was. Asher sighed, finally making up his mind about it.
The cinnamon scent made his mouth water and quickly he walked out the house, taking only his coat with him.
“Good morning,” said the same girl from the last time he was at the café.
Asher nodded with a smile and greeted her back.
“Will you be having the usual?”
The usual being his same cup of coffee and a blueberry muffin, Asher decided to have something else that would make his day a little more special.
“Yes, but with whipped cream on top,” he said, cheerily, taking a seat at his usual spot at the corner with the dim lights. He crossed his legs, getting himself comfortable on the cushions of the sofa.
“Special day?” She went to work making a fresh pot of coffee just for Asher, since he was the very first customer of the day. A muffin was taken from under the glass and put on a plate.
“My birthday,” he mumbled out. His eyes scanned routinely for today’s issue of the paper from all the newspapers and magazines that were stacked in a mess on the coffee table in front of him.
The girl looked up at him, hearing the words, clear and audible. This caught more of her interest and she couldn’t help but ask more questions. “Wow. Happy birthday. How old will you be...if you don’t mind my asking?”
The coffee dripped its last drop and the pot was full to the rim. The aroma filled the room of freshly, brewed coffee and she poured a white mug full, topping it off with plenty of whipped cream.
“Eighteen.” His answers were short and vague. It only bothered the server a little, but she thought of it as a challenge as well. She just hoped he wouldn’t find her too annoying.
“Did you want whipped cream on your muffin as well?”
Saturday, May 16, 2009
2 - Into The Castle
“More coffee, sir?” asked the server, with a shy smile, holding a fresh pot in hand.
Asher looked in his white mug, discovering with his brown, chocolate eyes that it was empty and then turned to the girl. “No, I should probably get going. Just the bill, please.”
She nodded, a little disappointment showing on her face. The bill was brought to him quickly along with the server’s phone number. Asher took no notice of the number and just laid out the money on the table, getting up to leave.
Outside, the fresh, autumn wind blew through his dark, shoulder-length hair. Uneven strands covered his face as they flew with the whirling air. He could feel the cold, seeping into his thin coat as he walked the pavement sidewalk. The weather wasn’t bad, just that it was a little bit windy. The sun was still out and trees were dancing around the colorful leaves that surrounded them. Asher could hear voices nearby, thrill and intensity in the tone of the words spoken as he came around the bend.
“The castle!”
“We must go and see!”
“We could solve the mystery and be heroes!”
“The Europeans have gotten lazy with their forces!”
“We’re not afraid!”
Dumb. Stupid. Careless. Those were Asher’s thoughts responding to the strangers’ words. And especially, ignorant. Asher new immediately what would happen if they went to their planned destination; More missing people; More news articles; And more frightened citizens of England.
The thought of warning them came and passed. He realized the enthusiasm and determination in the expressions of their faces and just walked away. Nothing he could do or say would change their mind.
Asher ignored most of his impulses. He never liked the idea of jumping to his emotions’ needs and feeding on it as if it were his only choice in life. He’d give in to small desires but that was it. Staying up late for another few hours to finish a good book, indulging in a second cup of coffee from the café, things that did no harm. Although the obsession that was starting to form and even steadily growing, was not such a healthy thing to acquire or develop.
The walk back to his house was short and uneventful. But then again, he never took much notice of anything when he didn’t want to, and at the moment, nothing could take his interest more than the mystery that haunted his thoughts.
The morning air filled his lungs as he opened the windowsill from his bedroom. White curtains were pulled back and sunlight shone through, illuminating the dim room.
Asher poked his head out, taking in another deep breath of fresh air. It smelled sweet and of cinnamon. The neighbors were probably baking again. Cinnamon buns? Apple pie? Maybe gingerbread? He tried to guess what it was, just for the fun of it. He smiled, running his tongue over his lips. “Happy birthday Asher,” he said to himself.
He was eighteen now and could feel the potential of this age. “What should I do today?”
Asher looked in his white mug, discovering with his brown, chocolate eyes that it was empty and then turned to the girl. “No, I should probably get going. Just the bill, please.”
She nodded, a little disappointment showing on her face. The bill was brought to him quickly along with the server’s phone number. Asher took no notice of the number and just laid out the money on the table, getting up to leave.
Outside, the fresh, autumn wind blew through his dark, shoulder-length hair. Uneven strands covered his face as they flew with the whirling air. He could feel the cold, seeping into his thin coat as he walked the pavement sidewalk. The weather wasn’t bad, just that it was a little bit windy. The sun was still out and trees were dancing around the colorful leaves that surrounded them. Asher could hear voices nearby, thrill and intensity in the tone of the words spoken as he came around the bend.
“The castle!”
“We must go and see!”
“We could solve the mystery and be heroes!”
“The Europeans have gotten lazy with their forces!”
“We’re not afraid!”
Dumb. Stupid. Careless. Those were Asher’s thoughts responding to the strangers’ words. And especially, ignorant. Asher new immediately what would happen if they went to their planned destination; More missing people; More news articles; And more frightened citizens of England.
The thought of warning them came and passed. He realized the enthusiasm and determination in the expressions of their faces and just walked away. Nothing he could do or say would change their mind.
Asher ignored most of his impulses. He never liked the idea of jumping to his emotions’ needs and feeding on it as if it were his only choice in life. He’d give in to small desires but that was it. Staying up late for another few hours to finish a good book, indulging in a second cup of coffee from the café, things that did no harm. Although the obsession that was starting to form and even steadily growing, was not such a healthy thing to acquire or develop.
The walk back to his house was short and uneventful. But then again, he never took much notice of anything when he didn’t want to, and at the moment, nothing could take his interest more than the mystery that haunted his thoughts.
The morning air filled his lungs as he opened the windowsill from his bedroom. White curtains were pulled back and sunlight shone through, illuminating the dim room.
Asher poked his head out, taking in another deep breath of fresh air. It smelled sweet and of cinnamon. The neighbors were probably baking again. Cinnamon buns? Apple pie? Maybe gingerbread? He tried to guess what it was, just for the fun of it. He smiled, running his tongue over his lips. “Happy birthday Asher,” he said to himself.
He was eighteen now and could feel the potential of this age. “What should I do today?”
Friday, May 15, 2009
Tell Me The Truth
I shouldn’t have said the things that I say
Wouldn’t have made a difference anyway
Couldn’t you hear the desperate fear?
I was choked up inside and I needed you here
But you had something more important to do
Tell me something, babe, what else is new?
Come on and tell me the truth
It’s not like I don’t have a clue
You can’t be serious
You can’t believe
That I don’t know what I see
Come on love, you’re a liar
Don’t you know what happens now?
The flames are dying, now where’s the fire?
Angels singing? Ha! There’s no choir!
Making me a fool for believing you
Don’t you know that I needed you?
I shouldn’t have said the things I always say
Doesn’t make a difference anyway
Don’t you ever feel like this isn’t real?
This isn’t what I thought was the deal
You’re always complaining and never here
Disappear to drink some beer
Come on and tell me the truth
It’s not like I don’t have a clue
You can’t be serious
You can’t believe
That I don’t know what I see
Come on and tell me the truth
It’s not like I don’t have a clue
Come on and tell me the truth
It’s not like I don’t have a clue
Come on and tell me the truth
Tell me what I already knew
***'Nother song. It just seemed to write itself...Kinda weird, 'specially at the end. Inspired by 'Hey Monday' and 'Cloud Cult'~
Wouldn’t have made a difference anyway
Couldn’t you hear the desperate fear?
I was choked up inside and I needed you here
But you had something more important to do
Tell me something, babe, what else is new?
Come on and tell me the truth
It’s not like I don’t have a clue
You can’t be serious
You can’t believe
That I don’t know what I see
Come on love, you’re a liar
Don’t you know what happens now?
The flames are dying, now where’s the fire?
Angels singing? Ha! There’s no choir!
Making me a fool for believing you
Don’t you know that I needed you?
I shouldn’t have said the things I always say
Doesn’t make a difference anyway
Don’t you ever feel like this isn’t real?
This isn’t what I thought was the deal
You’re always complaining and never here
Disappear to drink some beer
Come on and tell me the truth
It’s not like I don’t have a clue
You can’t be serious
You can’t believe
That I don’t know what I see
Come on and tell me the truth
It’s not like I don’t have a clue
Come on and tell me the truth
It’s not like I don’t have a clue
Come on and tell me the truth
Tell me what I already knew
***'Nother song. It just seemed to write itself...Kinda weird, 'specially at the end. Inspired by 'Hey Monday' and 'Cloud Cult'~
1 - Into The Castle
A low, but heavy breathing noise could be heard under the blanket of darkness that covered the inside grounds deep within the castle. Not even a small ray of light could be seen, almost as if it was forbidden.
A head turned, reacting to the sudden sound of water splashing. Veins popped out as blood rushed and the beating of a heart became more rapid. The creature opened its mouth, letting its tongue slide over its lips, leaving drool and saliva dripping from its chin as it bared its teeth to the uninvited visitors.
More sounds of water splashing came as different kinds of footwear stepped on puddles. There were about three or four, the creature could tell, as it counted the number of steps taken at a time. It exhaled the same heavy breath as before, but a little louder now, excitement getting the better of it. It hadn’t eaten in almost four days and hunger was all that it could decipher from the world.
Asher took a deep breath in, then let it all out. He repeated this exercise until he was sure he was calm. His nerves never usually got the better of him, but as he read the newspaper, his eyes wandering left to right, following the words, Asher felt a little part inside of him jumping and screaming with excitement. It was rare that he ever lost his composure, so he didn’t know what to do at first. But the classic breathing exercise surely worked.
He laid the newspaper down gently after reading and rereading it twice. The headlines were written in big bold letters, the article that made Asher jump being on the front page. The story that everyone read and possessed almost everyone; the mystery of the disappearances in the castle.
It had been going on for a while now. Especially people from different countries; tourists and visitors. They all came to England from all over the world, curious and intrigued by the mystery of the castle. Some thought arrogantly how they were intelligent enough to solve it or had enough endurance and strength to check it out without disappearing themselves. Of course these were only their own thoughts. Anyone who’d dared to go in the castle had all went missing. It was said, after all, that no one could come back.
Asher glanced at the article once more then looked away. He didn’t know what he was thinking. He knew that it would be a stupid idea to go in and explore the hollow abandoned structures of one of the biggest architectures in Europe, but he felt so drawn to building.
Just forget about it, he kept thinking, Forget it all. But the problem was that he couldn’t. He didn’t know why or what it was, but it was as if the castle had possessed him as well.
Maybe tomorrow, he thought. He’d take a closer look, but he wouldn’t go in. Just a look and maybe it would be enough to make him get over it. He wanted to believe that idea, but doubt filled his head.
Tomorrow would be his eighteenth birthday. Not usually would he willingly celebrate his birthdays unless his foster parents would insist on it, but luckily for him, a phone call had been made requesting their presence at a different city.
It wasn’t that Asher hated his foster parents or even disliked them. The boy was just never accustomed to too much attention and whenever times like birthdays came, it seemed as if he was bothering them to do so many unnecessary things that he’d preferred not to have done.
A head turned, reacting to the sudden sound of water splashing. Veins popped out as blood rushed and the beating of a heart became more rapid. The creature opened its mouth, letting its tongue slide over its lips, leaving drool and saliva dripping from its chin as it bared its teeth to the uninvited visitors.
More sounds of water splashing came as different kinds of footwear stepped on puddles. There were about three or four, the creature could tell, as it counted the number of steps taken at a time. It exhaled the same heavy breath as before, but a little louder now, excitement getting the better of it. It hadn’t eaten in almost four days and hunger was all that it could decipher from the world.
Asher took a deep breath in, then let it all out. He repeated this exercise until he was sure he was calm. His nerves never usually got the better of him, but as he read the newspaper, his eyes wandering left to right, following the words, Asher felt a little part inside of him jumping and screaming with excitement. It was rare that he ever lost his composure, so he didn’t know what to do at first. But the classic breathing exercise surely worked.
He laid the newspaper down gently after reading and rereading it twice. The headlines were written in big bold letters, the article that made Asher jump being on the front page. The story that everyone read and possessed almost everyone; the mystery of the disappearances in the castle.
It had been going on for a while now. Especially people from different countries; tourists and visitors. They all came to England from all over the world, curious and intrigued by the mystery of the castle. Some thought arrogantly how they were intelligent enough to solve it or had enough endurance and strength to check it out without disappearing themselves. Of course these were only their own thoughts. Anyone who’d dared to go in the castle had all went missing. It was said, after all, that no one could come back.
Asher glanced at the article once more then looked away. He didn’t know what he was thinking. He knew that it would be a stupid idea to go in and explore the hollow abandoned structures of one of the biggest architectures in Europe, but he felt so drawn to building.
Just forget about it, he kept thinking, Forget it all. But the problem was that he couldn’t. He didn’t know why or what it was, but it was as if the castle had possessed him as well.
Maybe tomorrow, he thought. He’d take a closer look, but he wouldn’t go in. Just a look and maybe it would be enough to make him get over it. He wanted to believe that idea, but doubt filled his head.
Tomorrow would be his eighteenth birthday. Not usually would he willingly celebrate his birthdays unless his foster parents would insist on it, but luckily for him, a phone call had been made requesting their presence at a different city.
It wasn’t that Asher hated his foster parents or even disliked them. The boy was just never accustomed to too much attention and whenever times like birthdays came, it seemed as if he was bothering them to do so many unnecessary things that he’d preferred not to have done.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Sounds like a song
Your eyes
Your face
Why did you waste
Your time
Your life
You don't know what's right
Good deeds
And bad
Don't you look sad
To catch
The wrong fate
And now it's too late
***Sort of trying to write for my other 'You should've...' poem, and this one turned out, so it pretty much has the same idea. It sounds like a song~
Your face
Why did you waste
Your time
Your life
You don't know what's right
Good deeds
And bad
Don't you look sad
To catch
The wrong fate
And now it's too late
***Sort of trying to write for my other 'You should've...' poem, and this one turned out, so it pretty much has the same idea. It sounds like a song~
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Story Idea
A man is married to a woman
The man dies
The woman gets remarried and has kids
The man comes back from the dead
He thinks he's still alive
He comes back to his wife
He meets the children and thinks it's his
He meets the other man and gets angry
He then realizes that the kids aren't his
He 'haunts' the family with rage, trying to kill them all
He manages to kill the other man and children
He tries talking to the mourning wife
But she can't hear him and he gets angry, trying to kill her
But she's so depressed that she kills herself
The man never realizes that he's dead and 'lives' depressingly...forever!
...or something like that...
The man dies
The woman gets remarried and has kids
The man comes back from the dead
He thinks he's still alive
He comes back to his wife
He meets the children and thinks it's his
He meets the other man and gets angry
He then realizes that the kids aren't his
He 'haunts' the family with rage, trying to kill them all
He manages to kill the other man and children
He tries talking to the mourning wife
But she can't hear him and he gets angry, trying to kill her
But she's so depressed that she kills herself
The man never realizes that he's dead and 'lives' depressingly...forever!
...or something like that...
Friday, May 1, 2009
TGIF...
Something useful when writing:
http://www.deepgenre.com/wordpress/craft/stupid-writer-tricks-3/
So now I'm trying to write a short story and I'm a little bit nervous. When it comes to writing poetry, it just seems to come naturally to me and the job is almost effortless. Short stories, however, are a little more difficult for myself. Words are nice, but I find the task of connecting them with logic and proper sentences as well as having to make sense of them, a challenge. Every time I've tried to write a story, I've always gotten stuck somewhere along the line, but then again, what writer doesn't? This time, I will try my hardest to attempt a complete and entertaining short story that hopefully a reader may enjoy.
Storyline: An inhumane cannibal is living in a maze deep inside an abandoned castle of England, where tourists and other people come to find the mystery of those who went missing in there, only to be trapped souls, as well, and eaten by the cannibal himself. A boy, young and smart, is drawn to the castle and is intrigued by the mystery that later unfolds before him as he enters the castle, himself, and explores the depth of the maze to meet the fiend who is guilty of the crimes.
I suppose I shouldn't put down all of what happens, or else I'll just give away my whole story right there. Well, basically, what I'm going to try to do is to just write it as a 'short' story, not the long ones that I usually strive for because I usually end up giving up on those. And I will do whatever I can to keep myself writing and to not get the story of track of what should really happen. I pretty much have all I need except for the tiny little details that I'm not too worried about. Well, thanks for tuning in. =]
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