writings

refurbishing everything

Mon, 25 Aug 2008 20:21:19 GMT

I'll be trying to get ll my stuff refurbished and on the level I want it to be on, basically right now I've just been dicking around with stuff, and I'm not pleased with the disorder I have with my work right now. I'm deleting whatever I need to, redoing whatever I want and putting new things up. so I hope that who ever in their right minds actually pays attention to my shit enjoys.

SOCIAL VIBE

Sun, 17 Aug 2008 17:22:00 GMT

dream I just had.

Wed, 23 Jul 2008 06:48:04 GMT

There was a time my mother would look to the heavens as battles in the starlight raged on. Holding me while the bombs crashed around. In her own insanity I suppose she wanted to see my eyes behold the war my father was fighting, the war men died in. To create a bigger and better future. Thats what they called the war, The betterment of our society and way of life. To prove to others that we were supreme. As I stood there, my hand tightly in her fingers, gazing up in the stars, I never thought we would lose. I never thought they would win. Mother in her own sadness of the fate of our world left our planet in disgrace, to join my father in the heavens. Being alone wasn't so bad, everyone was alone and soon, because our loneliness we came together. In the end I suppose it was the gods way of choosing who lived and who died. So we could start a new, better and peaceful world. Soon, as our nation grew again, so did the trouble. We lost what the gods had told us with the wars and fighting...and then, the fighting began again. This time, it wasn't old men who died, it was women and children...boys and girls fighting for something they didnt understand. Men killing others to prove that the world was truly a disaster. Our society crumbled in on its own evils again. They who had won the war saw how terrible we were and they came down, and they fixed everything.

But...isn't that the job of the Gods?

~Earth~
November 21, 2011: Telivision broadcasts announce globally that the end of earth will happen as early as december 21, 2011.

November 22, 2011: Riots rattle through society, Authorities struggle to find order.

November 23, 2011: Scientists locate the first signs of the doomsday planet.

November 25, 2011: Suicide cults begin to form in each nation.

November 26, 2011: Authorities turn to mass genocide to control rioting.

November 27, 2011: Influential humans are rushed to bunkers beneath the earths surface.

November 28, 2011: The last television broadcasts are played repeatedly, announcing that pure, healthy humans will be transported to underground shelters around the planet.

November 29, 2011: All religious cults commit mass suicide in the coming of the doomsday planet.

November 30, 2011: Underground shelters collect as many pure, healthy human beings as possible.

December 1, 2011: Nations are overrun by radicals.

Disease and suffering spreads.

December 21, 2011: Massive earthquakes and mega tsunami's overrun the planet destroying cities and killing the billions of people not collected by the shelters. A series of natural disasters kill 85% of life left on earth. Change of climate continues and the planets light source is completely illiminated by the doomsday planet. Temperatures in the earths surface drop drastically.

January 1, 2012: The earths surface is frozen.

January 2, 2012: All life on earths surface is demolished.

Febuary 24, 2013:
The doors to the air seal of the shelters slowly slid open, the sounds of debris scraping against the concrete and steel fortified walls and floor echoing into the massive crowds of people who had lived in generated worlds for over a year. Soldiers took the first steps into the frozen planet, protective armour and thermal suits covering each flake of skin. Like astronauts visiting their own planet, disbelief of earths icy shell created a moment of vile ecstacy in the mightiness of the universe around them. The recultivation of earth began; The doomsday planet orbiting around its destruction. The sun shone once more within five years and humanity began to close off their nations from the harsh environment created by the doomsday, using solar power as a means to survive in the now arid desert world they had once called the blue planet.

TO BE CONTINUED. ( I've only dreamt this far.)

Kandy Kid Kiss

Tue, 29 Jan 2008 07:11:44 GMT

Base is thumping,
Beats are trancing,
Bodies jumping,
Drums are dancing.

Glow in the dark traces,
embrace in a wasteland of intimacy,
two make loving embraces,
in one thousand weaving lights of intricacy.

Through the Kandy kid's kiss
and flashes of red and blue,
no one can miss,
the whispered "I love you"

Embracing in the crowd,
holding onto the trance,
never letting each other down,
throughout their lifelong dance.

Love is forever true,
their passion you cannot miss,
in the flashes of the colorful hues,
is their neverending kandy kid kiss.

Complex

Tue, 29 Jan 2008 06:39:21 GMT

* this is another book I've begun to write, I've contimplated on it being a graphic comic, but I'll see where it goes based on my readers opinions.. you want me to draw a graphic comic rough for it, tell me!! ill scan it an dpost it here for all to see ^_^
thanks for reading my blog too I really appreciate it.*

Complex
~Intro~

There was a story i was told when I was little by my mother. It was a bedtime story about everything that had a match. She told me about a little boy that everyone hated...and then one day when he was much older, some kind stranger told him that everyone has a match, including him. After that, he spent almost is entire lifetime searching for his one true match. Days went by, then weeks. Months trailed into years...and finally, he gave up. My mother never finished telling me that story.

Complex

The streets filled with the grim sadness of the skies grey tears as he sat in the shadows, drops on hatred seeping into the tobacco lining of his cigarette. Drenched in his own depression of his lifelong search, the burning desire of his need for love and belonging was like a sorrow filled opera churning within him. His eyes delicatly traced the movements of those people strolling along the sidewalks near his emotions. The splash of childrens laughter trailed through the raindrops and hit him, filling him with disgust. Happiness was something he had only heard of or witnessed, not until he found his match would he know what true happiness was. Wonder filled him, as well as worry.

Would his match be a male or female? Wondering what they would look like... if they were a match of love, or companionship. He had seen other like him in their matching, who had found that their match was the identical gender. He hoped it was a female. He had never had love, he wanted it. Desire shot through him like a painful bullet as his thoughts raced through his brain. His arms and legs began to tingle with stiffness as his body began to grow uncomfortable with his new haven of solitude. He stood and stretched, staring down at his feet and then at the street, blinking away the water that drifted into his eyes. Curiosity peaked in hima s he eyed a young person drifting sadly through the crowd of the midday rush on the streets. He squinted, trying to figure out the gendure of this mysterious person he had suddenly been drawn to. A heavy hood shaded their face as their small body strolled through the mob of busy bodies. He chuckled a bit, they were so short. Probably a msall child lost in daydreams of some promising future. He turned as the person stopped in front of his alley. Tiny, delicate hands lifted to their face, and lit up a cigarrette. His let out a small "ugh" at the sight of this kid smoking. As their head lifted, his thoughts stopped. A breath of shock filled within him and his judging halted. It was the face of a young woman, no older than twenty perhaps. Gentle lips and slender nose with soft cheeck bones held inquisitive eyes of purity as he looked at her. He held his breath as her eyes fell on him in the shadows. His heart stopped as they met his. She smiled gently, and then as quick as their eyes had met, she was gone; nothing left but the dispersing trails of the second hand moke of her cigarrette.

He sat back down, replaying her face in his mind. He smiled at the short bursts of hair that fell over her forehead and eyes, her gentle smile towards him. He felt his sadness echo through the air around him again. If they were meant to be they would have spoken. She would've been drawn to him too. It wasn't meant to be. He looked at his smoke, dreched in water it was useless to him. he crushed it under his foot and began the long trek back to his home. The thought of his empty apartment and lonely bed made the walk back feel like a year long hike. He peered over the heads of the people drifitng about in their own lives, content in their daily rituals. He searched through his pockets for his keys, remembering that his lease was coming to a close. He had no money left, his time here was up. He'd have to find another source for money so he didn't have to live with his fellow unmatched. He hated that large house, where they provided for all those unwanted like they were abandoned children. Living there was a nightmare, nothing but the whines and wishes of those who couldn't find their soulmates.

Nausea consumed him as he stepped into the dark sanctuary of his apartment. He hadn't felt like this is so long. He fell to the floor, pushing the door behind him with his foot. He crawled to his kitchen and ripped open a package of bread, pulling milk from the fridge. For a few minutes he stuffed himself with the essentials until his body regained stability.

*to be continued*

Boy Born a Fighter

Tue, 29 Jan 2008 03:38:43 GMT

Lift the head...
stare at the clouds,
watch the birds fly,
Clench your fists.

You were born a fighter...
a child aged too fast,
with legs that run too far,
a heart that aches no more.

Force yourself to stand...
when they bring you down.
learn to love the taste of dirt,
after you hit the ground.

Break through boundaries...
live by your own rules,
you were born a fighter,
don't be someone elses fool.

Growing up a warrior...
every bruise is a medal,
your soul is ever hungry,
Fighting is your world.

Never let them win...
Don't lift your feet boy,
until push comes to shove,
You were born a fighter.

spinning

Tue, 29 Jan 2008 03:26:01 GMT

*soemthing I wrote a very long time ago...

The world is spinnng almost too fast for me to catch up
I close my eyes to get ahold of myself but the worst happens.
my feet leave the ground,
my breath slips and I fall.

I'm falling now,
the spinning stars above me,
the sleeping pills taking over,
Almost like I took too many even though I took just the right amount.

I cant believe how I am.
Only stopping to think about how fucked up the world is
How fucked up I grew up to be.
how fucked up life can be.

the clouds are turning like I'm on a roller coaster.
The grass feels wet and cold.
It snowed yesterday and thats why.
Cold, icy, like life.

Its like a withdrawal from a drug.
you feel good at first and then everything crashes.
thats how it feels for me everyday.
Can you believe that?

I lay awake for hours.
only being able to sleep for a few hours before waking,
like on a drug,going on and on as if I'm on a caffiene pill.
but then everything crashes.

My mind aches and I am saddened.
at the wasted time and the days I've lost to people,
people who didnt care.
People who pretended to love me.

I feel like Im falling,
but like I'm drowning as well.
only being pulled out,
by people who will throw me back in once they get what they want.

My legs didnt want to work today.
I sat down and my body decided to stop for a while,
only letting my mind get back to work after taking a few minutes to itself.
like it has a mind of its own.

I dipped myself in the few pleasures of life that I could today.
in the back of my mind I really wondered if the people I was with really cared.
or if they just wanted something from me again.
like everyone else.

Seems harder to pull myself from the sidelines.
join in.
but I watch everyone go on.
Like a bystander of their favourite sport, wanting to join but not special enough to.

i feel alone.
homeless even though I have a home.
friendless even though I have friends.
Loveless even though I am told I am loved.

Relief comes to me from the nicotine I smoke everyday.
I'm addicted, but it feels good.
It should.
thats why their made.

I sound crazy.
maybe I am.
or maybe I'm just tired.
even though I hardly ever sleep.

Muse

Tue, 29 Jan 2008 03:21:49 GMT

She is the artists muse,
She is like a delicate flower,
But be sure you do not abuse,
For she does have hidden power.

She will pose and sing,
Do whatever it is you please,
If it is what you're wanting,
She'll show your heart delicate peace.

She will keep her artist in full sight,
She will do her best,
Day into night,
To show her artist the beauty of life.

She is the artists muse,
As symbolic as a dove,
And if the artist should choose,
She will be his one true love...

Passionate night

Tue, 29 Jan 2008 03:21:10 GMT

Silver drops of silence,
Fall around the lovers,
Somehow even though there's blinding darkness,
They do still see each other.

Crimson lips touch through the rain,
Voices echo in the air,
There is no more pain,
Though there is twisting of hair...

Puddles reflect the hot embrace,
The world turns from light,
Fingers caress the face,
On this dark and passionate night.

playful wishes

Tue, 29 Jan 2008 03:20:39 GMT

Playful wishes from the heart,
From these two people pulled apart,
Silly words are tossed around,
Hopeful whispers fall to the ground.

A loss of love and loss of hope,
Gained new ground and found a road,
So long these two have thought of things,
Their memories burned on tattered wings...

Day and night they strolled along,
never knowing what went wrong,
Their feet became worn,
their hearts became torn.

Here they walk, on and on,
Traveling far from dusk to dawn,
Never knowing what they craved,
Until their hearts began to cave.

Only through destiny can they finally meet,
and hold each other's hearts to keep,
Only when fate gives one the other,
Will they become lifelong lovers.

Playful wishes from the heart,
From these two people pulled apart,
Only fate will help decide,
To give the two what they so desire.

prompt from breaddough

Sat, 19 Jan 2008 06:13:38 GMT

Fear choked his lungs as he stared into that yawning void. It felt almost as if the darkness was consuming him, like an unforgiving wave in an ill tempered sea. He swallowed down the taste of bile in his mouth, the feeling of nausea washing over him. Shutting his eyes, he took one step forward towards that void. His hands tremored, his brow dripped with sweat that was a palpable sign of stress because the room he had found himself in was as cold as an icy winter.

Suddenly, warmth swallowed his foot as he stepped in, then his calf, thigh... Shock forced him to pull back. Warmth like that was not normal. It was like an evil trying to play nice to invite him in. Since the void had overrun the earth, no one was safe. People had been found, turn to stone and burnt to ashes; nothing left of them but memories of days of past happiness. People had dissapeared. He stood back, eyeing it again, watching it squirm and whine in the corner of this frigid room. A filthy window to his right let in a weak stream of sunlight. Part of the pane was cracked and the corner of the window was shattered, as if something had run through it in agony. His fist clenched, the gloomy room echoing the terrible emptyness inside him. As he stepped back, the back of a chair budged his buttocks. Anger writhed within him. In a flurry of motion and violence he lifted the chair and threw it into the void.

The chair stuck there, halfway through the wall. He knew it. Somewhere in this... thing, was a world on the other side. It was evil, the things he had seen ooze from that void were etched into his mind for life. Monsters that devoured people...Creatures who's stare matched the mythical gaze of Medusa, turning all who looked on them to stone. Fear lurched into him, sweat trickling down as he looked on at the chair stuck n the darkness. Every cell inside of him pulsated with the anxiety of something hideous that might come out from the wall any second. In a quick moment of recklessness, he began to walk towards the darkness...ready to jump in. He wanted so much to leap to the other side, see what was there. Destroy what was there. "What are you doing? Confirm identity!" A sleek cold metal suddenly and intimately forced itself against the back of his neck. He slowly raised his hands in surrender.

"Douglas...Jasson Vincent Douglas" He knew they'd be here sooner or later. Damn light officers. "I'm a sun soldier. See?" He gently lowered his left arm to his waist, pulling a small red light out of his pocket. He clicked it on and pointed it at the whining darkness. The smooth metal pulled away from his neck as the officer watched the darkness shriek and squirm, pulling itself from the light. He turned to the face of a young man aged inside. His eyes held dark bags and the sore memories of fear. "Whats...whats it doin?" The young officer pushed his helmet higher on his head, eyes staring at the screeching darkness. Jasson looked back towards the noise. "It's in pain. The void and its monsters hate red light. We still don't know why this is so." The officers face morphed with confusion as he eyed the backend of the chair, its legs curiously sticking out into the air. "They steal chairs?"

Jassons face scewed with amusement. "No, they don't steal chairs... They steal people." The officer stood back in shock.
"why?" Jasson lost the amusement inside of him. His eyes turned dark and his body went cold at the thought of the answer he wished he did not have to speak. "I don't know." The officer soon left Jasson standing in front of the void. His eyes grew wary as he decided whether or not he would go in. His legs trembled with the choice, then his left foot took a step back, followed by the right, and sluggishly he turned away from the void. As he left the room he took in a deep sigh, letting the damp air lift his chest up, straining the tight fabric of his vest. Memories of his childhood washed over him, the warmth of his mothers arms and summer rays on his skin were sensations deeply imprinted in his mind... He could almost close his eyes and feel the days going safely and smoothly by in his sheltered world. Dissapointment shook his core as he took the final steps out of the room, down the musty stairs, and out of the battered house he had cherished in his younger years. As he stepped into the sunlight, his eyes squinted and looked at the people rushing around, consumed in their own lives. A small fear of the darkness in each one of them. A group of children stood silent at the mouth of a dead end road, eyes locked on, anxiety pulsing from them.

Jasson walked over to see what had caught their attention, it was known that the dead end road was one of the more active places for the Void, since the street was shaded by large abandonded houses and the wall of the city at its end. Darkness had found a haven there, people had spoken of seeing monsters and evil creatures running amock in the abandoned houses and the dead end street. He looked at all the children, and he knew each one of them. Twin boys from his close friend's sister, Margaret. A little girl named Abini, who belonged to another pair close friends of his, Jennisfi and her husband Marik. He looked amongst the children and named off each one. The twins Kennid and Adim, Abini, Lilith the daughter of the tailor west of the town, the shopkeep's two sons Laurn and Lion. Finally his eyes fell on the last child, it was Sean. Jasson knew him well, he was the troubled son of a lonely widow, whos husband was taken by the darkness. He lost his father when he was nine and at age ten he had grown into a mindless, quiet and sorrowful human. The children seemed to adopt him into their group to protect him from more pain. Abini, a surprising two years younger than him, had him close in tow everyday, his hand firmly in hers as she pulled him along with the group. Jasson wondered why the children put up with sean's nonsense, and why they helped him. He had been known to try jumping into the darkness to find his father, yet they pulled him from the darkness everytime... dragging his flailing and screaming body away from the dream of finding his father, and into the small, caring arms of little Abini. Jasson thought it was sweet of them to help Sean, but one day he would lead them into trouble. He guessed that the children somehow knew that, since they scolded him frequently and held him so close anytime they were near active Void areas. Jasson watched Abini, and to his surprise, she let go of his hand. Her head lowered, and Jasson filled with confusion.

Abini was very attached to Sean, but here she was, her head held low and her hand without his. Jasson eyed the street, then Sean, then the street again. Was it a test? The road wound upwards in a whining curve that seemed to stress the pavement at its sides. Cracks and holes in the asphalt echoed with reminders of a long and desperate fight for life. Jasson watched as Sean looked at the streets mouth, like a monster waiting to gobble him up, it was like it was waiting for him to step forward, right into a trap. His shirt wafted over his knees, and his shorts followed. Lifting one foot, SEan slowly leaned forward, his eyes watching for any movement in front or behind him. Jasson jumped in shock, they were letting him do it, they were letting him go. "Sean, NO!" As Sean's foot stepped down, he leapt forward into a sprint and let his feet carry him up the street. An overwhelming feeling of fear came over Jasson as Sean's feet came to a halt. The top of the street seemed to darken and close away in shadows. Jasson looked back at Abini in complete shock and terror, how could she let go? She would never let go of him, why did she let go? He ran past the children and stood int he middle of the children and Sean, equal distance in space, enough for him to use as a good measure of protection for the children who's eyes were fixed on Sean. A dark moan came from the top of the street as the Void came closer. Jasson looked behind him, the street's mouth closing there too, Abini's face drenched with sadness and angry tears. As he turned his head back to Sean, he pulled out his weapon and light. A long blade slid from his sleeve and his fist clenched in anger. His heart lurched up and out of his chest it seemed, as he looked upon a beast that gazed upon Sean. "Where the hell did that come from?" He had never seen one like this before, it looked like a griffon and a dog mixed together, long sharp teeth dripping with black saliva, in front of deep red eyes. Jasson made a run towards the beast, weapon ready light shining. A whimper let out from Sean's lips as he looked into the eyes of hell itself it seemed. Before Sean's mind reached the conclusion of his fight or flight repsonse, the beast grabbed him, its claw engulfing his face. Jasson made a swing at the beast but his blade clashed helplessly against the skin of the monster, the light doing nothing. It ripped Sean from the ground and pulled him into the darkness at the top of the dead end street, his screams drifting down the concrete cracks and tired potholes. Jasson fell to his knees, heavy breaths morphing into sobs. He couldn't save Sean.

*to be continued*

back and forth...

Sat, 19 Jan 2008 05:29:52 GMT

My feet in front,
My feet in back,
I stretch my legs,
I tighten my hands.

One time back,
all in a row,
then one time forth,
here I go...

The sun she smiles,
the ground does frown,
up I go,
and then down.

Metal cold,
seat is warm.
Sand is brown,
jeans are torn...

On this swing.
like a ride.
I could stay here,
all day and night.

Tummy butterflies,
and sweet sweet air,
hanging shoelaces,
and tumbling hair.

Back and forth,
stuck in time,
Up and down,
this swing is mine.

A drop...

Fri, 18 Jan 2008 10:45:53 GMT

A drop...as i stand in the street.
The world is spinning under my feet.
and as the clouds begin to streak,
I smile as the world spins under my feet.

A drop...As I think of our lives
An angry, hateful, terrible time,
of living and dying and desperatly trying,
Of hating and making and breaking.

A drop...As I think of my past,
That I try not to affect my future.
though I try it is there,
always reminding of hatred and pain.

A drop...As I stare at the children.
They run so carefree and wild.
And as I watch all the children,
I slowly begin to smile.

A drop...and rain falls on my eyes,
the music playing is so calming and smooth,
Rain with music always helps with my mood.
rain washes away failed love and life.

The drops collect and crowd the street,
I walk along in utter peace.
the music showing me the beat,
the rain showing me the way.

The sky is grey now,
the drops coming on,
my body soaked with peace.
I hope this time never ends.

My mind is cluttered day to day,
with thoughts sometimes useless,
thoughts sometimes not,
I thought thoughts where all that ive got.

But i have the rain,
and I have my music,
And i have my friends in the end.
I have things on which I can depend.

A lay down in the grass,
I think of the past,
whether or not to forget and forgive...
whether or not its good to die or to live...

A drop...as I stare at the street.
the world is spinning under my feet,
and as the clouds begin to streak,
I smile at the world spinning at my feet.

Prompt 133

Tue, 15 Jan 2008 03:08:28 GMT

His eyes looked on into the night, searching throughout a night of nothingness. Silence consumed him as if he were falling into a never ending vat of dark water. His breaths neither cool or warm against the deeep air as the moon provided only slight hope of sight in this blanket of black and grey. He sighed. He didn't need to breath, unless he needed to speak. He didn't feel anything...not the white blanket shifting with each of his steps, nor the flurries of immeasureable difference falling gently around him, clinging to his clothing for a small sign of hope before fading away like his dreams of the future that he once held dear in the past. His memories would never escape him, no matter how hard he tried to descard them into the looming moonlight.

His mind raced,eyes burning into every step he took, nausea hitting him suddenly. He held the wooden fencepost to his left, staring at the dark rich houses along the street ahead of him until the pain inside him ended. How sweet it was to live, he thought, how sweet it is to have a belonging, not knowing of anything in the world outside as you lay gently in your bed. How sweet it was to dream...He tilted his head, closing his eyes in hope that the white crystals would make him feel again, help him dream again. For a moment he thought he could feel it, every single flake touch him intimately as they found themselves on his skin. The thought of feeling faded, and he realized that he couldn't tell how many had fallen, whether they were cold or wet, whether any had touched him at all. He looked ahead, a T street in front of him, the corner twenty feet ahead looming so close it was making him feel a bit vulnerable. Flurries danced along under the light post on the corner. If only the days were as quiet and peaceful as this. He stared along the fence by his side, watched it break for the opening street ahead and then appear again on the other side, trailing up endlessly. He eyed the fence to his right on the other side of the street that followed in the same neverending fashion. For a moment he imagined the street as a wild thing, held in only by those fences on either side.

Why did he give in. Why did he sacrifice so much, for something so horrid. Some neverending monster held in closely by an equally nevereneding master. His fist clenched as it slipped from the fence he had found balance on. Then, something hit his ears so sudden it made him turn too quickly, and his nausea returned causing his knees to buckle and he crouched, holding his gut in agony. The sound came once more and he ignored his stomach pains to catch it. Footsteps, this late? His ears twitched, searching for the sound again. The footsteps turned into young feet, sprinting, slipping and gliding through the snow violently. One set of feet turned to four, then six, then eight. Four people were headed his way. He crouched down lower, letting his knees enter the cold hands of the snow. Could it be an attack? Why here? Why now? No one would dare go against curfew.... His eyes met with those of a frightened young girl, sliding out from the corner of the T street ahead of him and into a concrete slab of curb on the opposite side of the opening. She whimpered and pulled her bare feet up to her chest, her hands motionless on the ground as she stared at the opening of the street that seemed to be closing in on her right in her mind. The snow held to her clothing, her hair, knees, and hands. Her eyes connected to his once more, it seemed like everything went still, all went out. Color was nothing save for those eyes, the deepest,purest blue he had ever seen. Her hair was longer than what he had ever seen before either, untrimmed split ends hanging loosey down and reaching outwardly with emotion of a struggling life. The moonlight echoed from the strands that lay against the snow beneath her. What surprised him the most is that she was almost naked, save for a set clothing that resembled a nighty and some panties.

Three men came out from the same street ahead, not noticing the onlooker crouching to their right. He was stunned, how could they not notice, he was a sore thumb, wearing clothing almost as black as the girls hair. A man broke from the three and treaded slowly towards her,raising a firearm pointed presiscly at her. She replied in scurrying over the crub and sidewalk to the fence at her back. He didn't know if she was an Attacker and these men were officers, so he kept still until another move was made. His ears perked at the sound of the man in the back of the group mutter quietly to the man infront of him, "How'd she get out?"

Still crouching down, they hadn't noticed their onlooker as of yet, so he chose to listen. It was time for some entertainment, he decided. His eyes read each of the men carefully. The one who had spoken, conveniently had a nametag, that which a security officer would wear in a building or compound of great importance. His name was Matt. The other wore the same officer wear and tag, his name was Greg. The man in front of the two was dressed differently, wearing a pressed suit and also a nametag, but of a different color probably of higher rank. He squinted, they couldn't be soldiers... He himself was a soldier so he could tell... What were they doing, and who was the girl?

He looked at Matthew again, waiting for an answer from his comrade. His hair was a dark auburn. Anatomy told the soldier he was human, as were his fellow men. Matt had tired eyes lined with fear, as well as the man in front of him. The soldier focused on the second man, who had dark brown hair, brown eyes and hands full of fearful tremors. The third man a few feet ahead of the men, feet firmly planted in the shining blanket in the middle of the street,was slightly different. He was a human, but he had an unhumanly sense of bravery about him, his eyes determined and cold as he looked at the girl whimpering against the fence. The soldier eyed her quickly, he hoped that she didn't stare at him so much that the men would be alerted of his presence. Her hair covered the front of her face, and the man with the gun could not see her eyes looking directly at the soldier.

His nametag was tilted from sight and the soldier cursed silently at the fact that he couldn't identify a face with a name of the man with the gun. An answer trailed from Greg, "I don't know, but she should be obeying orders, I don't understand it... Maybe becasue shes the first female..." The soldiers eyes widened. No....No it couldn't be. The first female? He shifted his feet gently and eyed the girl. Why someone so young as the first female soldier? When did they change her? when was she taken in for testing? Rage filled him. So they changed their game. He realized these men were from the same organization that had programmed him, changed him and morphed him into a killing machine, and now they were doing it to women. This was illegal. Any new operations for new soldiers was striclty prohibited, and if one was to be made, he would have been alerted as soon as the actual suggestion was made and spoken as well as any other soldiers still alive.

A smile crept onto his face, if this was illegal, he had just now been given the right to use force to save the girl. Sweet, sweet justice, he thought. He stood to his feet and Matt drew his firearm as his movement attracted his attention. Greg copied the move and they lined their guns on his body. Matt and Greg's motions alerted the head of the group and he desperatly tried keeping the girl and this interruptor in his sights at all times, hesitantly moving his firearm towards the soldier and then back to the girl. "Present yourself!" The man commanded. The soldier scowled, "I am Hectic Soldier, rank six." Matt and Greg swallowed down a slight whimper at this soldiers powerful rank, six was the highest of any level a soldier could reach, and Hectic was a name for someone who was the highest of all soldiers still alive. "You of all people should watch his tone with a previous experiment doctor. I don't take orders from you." His eyes switched to the guards, and Matt dropped his gun in fear, slipping in the snow as he scrambled from the scene, Greg then followed right behind him. The man stood there, his gun now pointed at the soldier. "Stay back, this is an issue you are under, you have no rank in this situation, so you need to go, soldier." He tried keeping a strong tone, tried showing truthfulness but to his greatest far the soldier read straight through his sentence.
Hectic eyed the girl, her eyes looking to him desperatley. "What you are doing is illegal." The doctors eyes filled with shock.
"No, We..We have permission." His voice tremored with more lies. Hectic chuckled.
"Bullshit. Every soldier is to alerted when a new experiment is created, and I wasn't, and trust me, I'm still in the line of communication. What you've done here is direct violation of the new Anti-exp laws, and you know what that means right?" The doctor stumbled back as Hectics eyes lined themselves with his. "That means I get to kill you."

The night was split by a scream so agonizing it echoed through the entire neighborhood, and ended so abruptly that someone could have looked out there window at the peaceful night and not think another thing. Hectic stood there, the doctor's body stiff in the middle of the street, eyes staring into the sky, moonling splitting his face in two forms of light and dark. The girl jumped to her feet and ran to her saviour, her arms wrapping around his waist as she stared at the only one who could have controlled her world before he had helped.

Hectic turned, lifting her into his arms as he walked down the street away from the scene. Her head lay on his shoulder as she stared at the body in the snow, snowflakes falling into eyes that held nothing in a night of nothingness, but a blank stare.

My religious views....

Mon, 14 Jan 2008 01:58:48 GMT

I've had some thoughts going and I'd love to share with my readers the religion I've found in my life.

Now, my aim is not to force my views on others, in many ways the religious path I have chosen actually supports the views of others, it does not judge other religions in any way.

My views are partly deist, in which I believe in a supreme being but I do not focus on aspects that this being is a female or male nor do I belive that he/she involves his/herself in our lives. In views of deism, the best way to put it is like this: we were created, and our creator lets us decide which paths to choose, and we are free to choose what kind of humans we grow to be and die as.

This is not a deistic view to my knowledge, but I also believe that it is not the "god/goddess" or "devil" that involves itself, but it is their minions who do this, trying to sway us to their chosen path.

Of course some followers of "Full Deism" believe that they must force others to believe in deism and at times state that other religions are false and have some cases of mental illness involved in them. In some aspects, it appears negative... This is not my aim, and this is why I am maybe the first or maybe a small part of a few "Universal deists".

Universalism, is the acceptance of not only my religion but the religous views of others, and the celebrations of the freedom to seek guidance through life on our chosen paths, whatever they may be. Universalism also celebrates aspects of human respect and moral, and also celebrates the holidays of many other religions.

So now you know! :D

I am a Universal Deist.

There are many different followers of Universalism, and we come in many different kinds. There are Universal catholics, christians, athiests, and buddhists....and many more

Any of my readers may feel free to share anything and everything they desire with me, I am very happy to say I am always ready to listen, and chat :)

What Do You Have To Say? - I'm Taking It With Me

Sun, 13 Jan 2008 05:40:26 GMT

If you lived on a deserted island and could only have one photograph, which one would it be?

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My mother. If anything I'd have a picture of her....
I love her and shes been there for me as much as she could be. Shes given me more than anyone could ever give me.

What Do You Have To Say? - My Guilty Pleasure

Fri, 11 Jan 2008 04:56:10 GMT

What's your guilty pleasure?

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Awe crap. look.... my journal is already got a warning that it contains adult stuff....

What Do You Have To Say? - Ready For My Close-Up?

Fri, 11 Jan 2008 04:34:12 GMT

How do you respond when someone asks to take your picture?

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View 312 Answers

YES DAHLING....
I can sign it too if you'd like :D

Dreamworld

Fri, 11 Jan 2008 04:22:09 GMT

I stood in the wide span of field, the long whisps of grass wafting against my toes. The air hits my eyes in an almost intimate manner.... I am at peace in this dream world.

This is the first time I have ever gone to a place to walk with fairies and stroll on rainbows... to dance in raindrops that are sweet on the tongue and soft as silk on my skin. Violin songs caress through the strands of my hair, and creatures with no mouths dance around me, their silent ocean blue eyes matching my longing for peace.

Tranquility echoes through the whispers of the clouds I begin to travel.
The sun is warm but it does not burn my eyes or skin.
The breeze is cool but it does not make me shiver.
Guitar strings line the whispy white roads like musical fences, playing along my path, the strings vibrating with a gentle vow of love.
The ocean crawls through the land in the distance, a thoughtful clear water searching for meaning in a world that has none.
Sand crawls over and under my path, its individuall grains joining in a migration to nowhere and it echoes the footsteps of my past and future.
Slices of earth hover through the air, holding lone trees, autumns and winters....summers and springs.

Puppets visit the beach.
Windows are doors.
Doors are walls.
Rooms have no cielings.
Dragon flies breath bubbles, and butterflies grow gardens.
Lady bugs paint pictures, and bumble bees look like tiny striped people.
Giant hornets praise their queen, polish her crown and find her sugar to eat.

Pumpkins walk, and strawberries are enormous homes for anyone who wants one to keep.

Candies grow with flowers,
Treevines shake my hands with every chance they see.
Books make great conversations.
Crickets don't chirp, but they do sing.

Piano keys ask how my day was as I find a boat made of unknown memories, and laugh with the smiles their questions bring.
The boat soflty rocks over sugar as the hornets collect for their queen, and they bow as I make my way over, under and through colored whisps of silky cloth, each a doorway to everything and nothing.

Clocks dont tell time, only when it is bright and when it is dark.
Rings don't like fingers, but they do like necklaces...
Mirrors wont show me reflections of my face, just my thoughts...
Snowflakes dont melt, and they make excellent canvas.
Televisions will never show me a show, but they'll entertain me the best they can.
Tea cups fly, and the tea is even harder to catch.
I can only find sugar cubes if I ask the right questions, and milk is always hiding somewhere strange.
Spoons argue with forks.
Socks will try anything to make me laugh.
Stars fall, crying for someone to catch them, but catching a net is difficult too...but someone might help if I ask.
The boat finally stops, and nervously says I can leave whenever I want...but I dont have to....
Stairs travel upwards and out, not knowing where they're headed, and they ask me where I'm going every step I take.
Clouds make the railings, books keep me company.
Fairies struggle with tea cups and hold them incase I might get thirsty.
The sky seems to never end... the blue darkens and clouds change into stars.
Fallen stars I've found and caught are put back where they belong, reuniting with family and friends in their quiet land.
Stars dissapear as stairs go higher, their goodbyes trailing behind me.

The stairs end, and I'm back to green fields... Rainbows waiting to be danced on, a tea cup trying to escape from my fingers, Dragonfly bubbles flowing past me as the violin songs carress my mind into a gentle sleepyness on a bed of warm sand with a blanket of thoughtful water. The guitar fences and piano key join in a solemn song of promises and wishes, the violin songs tucking me in as the stars above thank me for my help and the books tell stories of wonder and love.

My eyes close.
The breeze wafts away.
The sand is gone.
The stars stop thanking me and the books stories end.

I awake, carpet under my feet as I wiggle my bare toes to alert myself.
The blankets slide off me as I stand and look at my clock. The time in bright letters telling me I havent slept enough.
A sigh echoes through me as I look at the coffee table, with a tea cup that didn't struggle to move or run away.
A book silently laying next to it, wordless unless opened.
No breeze, but it is a little chilly, and goosebumps rise on my arms.

Dreamworld...I will visit you again.

Black tears

Sun, 16 Dec 2007 20:14:29 GMT

A babies cries echoed through the house. The mothers screams traveled into the night as she took in her last breath after the birth of her baby. The mothers nurse eye'd the childs face, bright green eyes stared into hers, beauty shining through the body of the baby. The mother died, her tired eyes slipping from her nurse to the ceiling. The priest arrived shortly after, his eyes falling on the baby with disgust. His sky blue eyes looked upon the scene with shame as the yellow haze of the mothers hair began to turn to a deep icy white.
"Bathe it in holy water, cleanse it." He swept aside grey hair, wrinkles lining his emotion as he peered over his large nose.
The nurse held the baby lovingly as he clutched to her chest. "Why? It's healthy...and it seems fine..."
"Just do it." The priest stared at the mother.
"But I-"
"Bathe it now." His voice was stern and shook with a fearful tone. The nurse followed his old eyes and looked at the infants mother. A shriek echoed and followed where the screams of the mother had once been. She was frozen, ice covered every inch of skin and her milky eyes held black tears that gently danced down her cheeks until frozen in place, held by a frame of white frost. The priest couldn't take his eyes off of the womans frozen body. "Her soul is trapped...The baby trapped her soul inside of her and she froze to death. This is a child of evil omen."
The nurse almost dropped the child as she looked at the frozen shell of her mistress. The baby cooed in her arms, gently falling into a slumber. The nurse feared that she would be tainted from touching the unholy child.

The time for the child's bath had come after they had cleaned the mother, and lay her frozen body in the church to be blessed in order for her soul to be freed from her prison turned corpse. The priest led the nurse into the chapel, and there he had waiting, a tub of blessed water. A mantra of blessing lay at the bottom of the metal tub, and they prepared to bathe the child and cleanse it of the demon that had taken the mother. As they lowered the baby into the water, the baby cried at the new sensation of the slightly warmed water sliding across its skin. His cries grew louder until they were swallowed after the child had been submerged in the water. His eyes slowly turned to the priest and made contact with his, his hands holding him steadily in the water as the nurse looked on anxiously.

The water began to bubble, a shrill sound echoed through the church and the priests hands began to burn. Blisters and boils began to appear on his hands and he dropped the child. At the bottom of the tub the baby began to thrash until the nurse frantically pulled it from the water. The babies cries slowed and it snuggled against the breast of his nurse. The priest fell to the ground. "It is cleansed." His breath hard, he dismissed the nurse and ordered her to cleanse herself as soon as possible as to keep from retainting the child. The priest stood up in the silent church. He looked at the fresh wounds on his hands, and the sound returned. He clamped his hands to his ears, and curled in pain as the sound became louder and louder. His sight blurred and he fell to his knees, the sound... it was coming from the mother...

His heart raced, the child was tainted... and the mother was as well.. possibly with greater evil than the child. He had tried to untaint and tainted child, and in doing so he had angered the demon that had been harboring inside the body of the mother. He had endangered the child that the demon mother treasured. The childs cries had set off the temper of a terrible evil. The eyes of the demon mother opened and her frozen body stood from the table, her eyes meeting his. He scrambled for the mantra papers at the bottom of the tub, but as he reached in his hands and arm burned and he had to remove his arm before the pain grew any larger. Black tears melted from their frosted frames on the mothers face, and fell to the floor. The priest crawled away from the woman, the cross held tightly in his hand as it burned his skin away. He didn't notice the pain of the severe wound, but instead could not lift his eyes from hers.

He scrambled to his feet as her rage lifted the pews from the ground, threw the altars around the church and broke every window. Painted glass circled around her body and the priest felt a cold sensation on his skin. He frantically felt beneath his eyes and pulled his hand away to see black liquid. His throat felt swollen, and he coughed up more of the dark fluid. The mothers hair broke from its frost and flew violently around her white face, her evil eyes looking down on him with such ferocity and hatred that it sent chills through his entire being. His site began to falter as the black liquid consumed his eyes, it began to flow from his mouth as he stumbled in fear for his life. As his site was swallowed by darkness he felt his way around, glass cutting the edges of his neck and hands as they flew around the demon mother. He felt the cool edge of the metal tub, before his legs began to falter beneath him.

He took one last glance at the demon mother before his body gave out beneath him and he fell head first into the tub of holy water, the black liquid darkening the water around his drowning body. Frozen black drops rose to the surface of the water, his eyes milky white and body slowly frozen in the deep caresses of death. The demon mother fell to the ground, her human soul no longer trapped in her body. In the last moments of his horrifying death he had realized his horrible mistake. The priest himself had carried the demon mother into the church, he had invited her corpse and tainted child into a holy place... .the priest had tainted the church by bringing in her and her baby in so willingly.
The child had the power to taint the holy water, and the mother had destroyed the church with her invitation.

Silence. The church was frigid and the statues faltered, falling to the polished black marble floors. The cold night air raced through the windows. The once lit candles lost their fire, slowly throwing the church into darkness. The very next day, the holy family burned down the church, destroying all evil spirits that lingered. On the very ruins of the church, a new chapel was built larger, stronger, and towered over all to remind them of their great religion. The baby that had been born was a troubled child. With every minute of his life he fought constant battles any chance that was given. Flames would burn servants, frost would freeze the limbs off of children the child was jealous of, black liquid would fall from the eyes of anyone who dared upset the boy. Three years passed, and the child was taken from everyone he might damage, all but the nurse who saved him from the holy water on the fateful day of his birth. As his fourth birthday came, his older sister Matrine gave a prayer for her birth brother, holding his hand in the church as he wriggled and fidgeted during the ceremony. Her bright sunlit blonde pigtails glew in the light of the candles as her slender skin fluttered from a deep tan to a slight orange in the candle light. Her blue eyes hidden by her bangs as her lowered her head in prayer. He tried to reach for her black school tie, twitched her white blouse to gain her attention and finally lowered his head, his eyes fixed on her blue skirt.

His green eyes fixed on the pleated skirt, taken in by te shadowed edges of the cloth. He shifted is dark hair from his forehead and looked at her, then at the people behind him. All had their head lowered, mumbling in unison to the girls prayer. This angered him, irritating worthless mantras and wishes and dreams. He searched among the crowd behind him and his sister for his nurse. She was nowhere to be found and he let out a deep heavy sigh with the thought that she wouldn't be there to take him away if he grew cross with this silly gathering.

On his fourth birthday he would be named in a ceremony much like his sister and all other children of the religion. She prayed for a god or goddess, for they had no signs of a great ruler of their world, and asked for her brother to be blessed on his name day. The boy stared once again at his sister, anger in his eyes. How stupid she was...How foolish she and these people were for their useless faith and prayers. He grew angrier and angrier, until his sisters pigtails lit fire, caught in her prayer she never noticed the deadly thing her sibling had done. Her hair fizzled away slowly, and he couldn't believe that no one noticed this girl wasting away mere feet from them. What astounded him more was thats she was so concentrated in her worshiping that she did not even notice her own slow demise coming to reality. Soon, a clergy member noticed the smell when her hair began to let off a putred scent from the fire.

His eyes opened, and in shock he watched, speechless, aas the girls mantras echoed louder and louder as the fire consumed her enitre body. He let out a scream and the rest of the holy family opened their eyes and saw the terrible sight. Mantras slipped from the girls mouth, louder and louder, until she was screaming them. The words turned into howls of pain and she thrashed at herself, trying to put the flames out. Her brother stood back, his eyes steadily watching her skin fall from her bones. Her muscle wasting away as the flames feasted on her. The holy family and members of the church tried desperetly to put the flames out, but with each flame that was distinguished and new flame came in its place. Matrine fell to the floor, nothing left of her but a partly charred body, hair burnt so short she looked as if she were a beauty blessed boy... Her blue eyes stared at the altar in which she had chanted her matras to daily without error, any loss of tone or energy. Blisters covered her legs and hands, and holes with black edges lay on her left cheek from where the flames had eaten through her jaw.

The holy family all turned to the boy who shrugged, a grin on his face in hs newest achievment. He skipped down past the pews and exited the church with all the members shocked eyes on his back. It was tHat day the boy was dragged into the church, bound and gagged for his naming ceremony. No mantras were chanted, no prayers, no heads were lowered in respect. He was placed in front of his sister as the ceremony began, his sisters body on the altar she had stood before with a full heart and full faith just hours earlier. The high priest stood in front of the boy, between the altar and him....

Deep blue eyes trailed across the typed letters, "His hands were raised and it was decreed that the innocent soul his sister had been blessed with had ascended to the heavens and she had become the great goddess. For the boy, he decreed the greatest punishment. His soul would be banished from heaven and he would be destroyed in the very way he had destroyed his sister and with this puishment, he would be the god of evil, banished from all thigns of life and heavenly rights. The boy was named Bialsobuh, an evil name of hatred and destruction. He was burned alive before the body of his sister and the altar of the church. The holy fmily chanting spells and mantras describing his punishment. His screams echoed through the church. His nurse ran t him, being held back by the members of the holy family as she cried for him, cried for them to let him live. She broke through the wall of chanting men, women and children and leaped intot he flames. She and the boy died together, his arms wrapped around her as she held him close to her body, her screams joining his in terror before the flames ate them completely, leaving nothing but ash and the memory of the day he god and the devil were created."

The high priestess shut her book of gods and looked on the church members. "Thank you for coming to our service today to celebrate the great birth of our goddes Mitrine." The church go'ers lowered their heads and chanted. "EnMitrineInesUnu. Blessed is our great child goddess. Blessed are we for our faith.EnMitrineInesUnu." They quickly shuffled out of the chapel, going back to their jobs and lives and homes. The high priestess kneeled before the altar. It was three days before the heretics would be sacrificed for their false religions. She smiled, shutting her eyes in prayer. "May Mitrine give us our own worlds to bless one day, and all heretics return to the depths from which they came to sit alonside Bialsobuh to be punished in the fires of his tainted soul." The high priestess sat in silence, her hands gently resting on her thighs. The candleight flickered and she saw bursts of yellow and orange on her eyelids as the rest of the church goers exited throgh the large, dark cherry wood doors behind her. The spontanious bouncing gold and orange hues that leapt from the candles danced elegantly along her robes. She was proud of her rank and of her undying faith for the Matrinoxal society.

Her long black hair gently lay along her shoulders and her back, reaching to the floor around her back and fsides as she kneeled. She relished in the thoughts of the churches newest success, outlawing any false religions in the Matrinoxal cities. The laws made it clear, worship Matrine, or die. She was also proud that she had been named after the great goddess herself. Her fourth birthday was a day of great celebration, and her mother and father cried with joy when the high priest had given her the title of Matria. Her future was bright and everyday of her life was filled with success. Every corner she turned and every goal she reached, brought her here today, preaching the good word, and destroying all who would dare go against her great goddess, wearing the colors of respect and faith.

She felt her collar, her pale hands gently carressing the bright red collar which also adorned the sleeves of her shirt, ending at the shoulders. She then felt down across the black robes with her long fingers until they once again came to rest on her thighs. She had memorized what her ranks clothing was to look like. Black material that reached down to the feet, red sleeves, red horizontal stripe under her breasts, red shoes. Suddenly, in her moment of deep thought, she realized that she had heard only one of the great doors of the church close. Her eyes opened and watched the flicker of the candles, and indeed there was a breeze passing her, a bright line of orange shone through the open door against the left side of the altar from the current sunset. A shadow of a person was the last thing she noticed in the light that flooded onto the wall and altar in front of her.

She stood and turned to the visitor, but her sight of his or her identity was hindered due to the bright sun that seemed to quietly swallow her view. She pulled her hand up as protection and squinted, looking at him with concentrated force. A sudden laugh echoed from the figure, and Matria found it to be the voice of a man. He mockingly muttered, "'May Matrine give us our own worlds to bless one day...' You Matrinoxals are strange. You know that?" She scowled at his words.
"I will not have such ill words spoken in my church, get out Bials worshipper. Before you are arrested and destroyed as a heretic." The man stepped quietly into the church, letting the large door come to a close with a loud thud behind him. Matria dropped her hand to her side, blinking at the sudden change of light to dark. She looked down at the stairs before her and the altar, her red shoes standing out ferociously from the black floor. Her eyes shot up to him as he elegantly walked along the church floor and lay his left hand on the back pew to her right.

She despised this mans presence and how he mocked her faith. "I am not foolish enough to worship what you have named holy, nor do I worship what you have named unholy in your faith, high priestess." He hissed. Her brow frowned at his words, so he admits that he is indeed a man who has faith elsewhere. "Nor have I come to be arrested. I have come to warn you." His steps were gentle and quiet against the polished black floor that lay below him as he slowly made his way towards her. Her voice raised and echoed through the church, bouncing off the walls and pews, "Get out. I do not need a false warning from a man such as yourself. I am protected by my faith, by Matrine and-"
"Listen." He interrupted. She stopped. The word was so quiet and soft that she would not have heard it if they were not alone. In the silence, she looked him over. His eyes were that of a womans, curled eyelashes and defined thin eyebrows accented them. This confused her, since the voice clearly defined the person as a male, not to mention the anatomy. She could not see the rest of his face, as it was covered with a tight black cloth that seemed to connect to the neck of his clothing under his long cloak. White hair that twirled strangely reached for the edge of the black cloth over his mouth and nose. Right below the skin between his eyes a white strip began on the black cloth, diving under the curve of his chin and straight down his neck into the neck of his cloak. His cloak, like hers that she had been given to her after becoming high priestess, was black.

How could this be? Black cloth was the rarest of materials in any city... Only the high matrinoxals had robes or clothing of such color, but he did not label himself as a Matrinox. The only thing missing from the cloak that he wore, which would have made his identical to hers, would be the red stripes down the front where the cloak parted to reveal the robes or daywear. Like her cloak, his went down to the floor covering the feet. What religious group was this man a part of? She had never seen such clothing before, not from any of the false religions. His eyes peirced hers as he parted the black cloak and removed it swiftly, throwing it over the back of one of the pews. Matria was shocked at his clothing. Made of the rarest and most expensive materials to her people.

The finest black material ran down the visible parts of his legs and covered his feet, tightly hugging every curve. From his elbows down to the tips of his fingers was the same black, from his elbows up to the top of his shoulders was a puffed white cloth so finely woven that it glittered in the candlelight. The same white cloth that began just under the middle of the eyes that dove down the curves of his chin and down his neck, continued on down to where the robes ended, about four fingers below the knee. The robes also split open at the hip and the opening trailed down to the ends of the fabric. The white stripe that ran directly down the middle of the robes was accented by a horizontal white strip at the ends of the fabric below his knees, sort of framing the pieces of black that closely held each line of his body in an almost intimate manner.

Her eyes met his as he spoke again, "Listen to me. I am here to warn you about the heretics you are destroying in three days time." Her face turned to disbelief and her heart felt as if it had jumped to her throat. How did he know? The public was to be told only on the day before the actual destruction.... He grabbed his cloak off the pew he had previously laid it on. His voice dropped to a fearful tone, "There is a woman you have arrested who must not be destryoed, or there will be a migty war. She is the heir to something extremely important to our religions. Listen well High priestess of the Matrinox, if your bretheren destroys her, our society will come to war with yours and many people will die on both sides, and I fear for the safety of the innocents that may fall in the line of fire between your and my people's battles. If this happens, every religion you hold to be false in your views will come to war on this very world and there will be pain for many years between any religions whos gods are real and powerful. There will be suffering that you could not begin to imagine."

Her heart raced with his warning. "Only our religion is true... only our faith is real... Matrine is the only-"
"The only god or goddess?" He interrupted again, "You are wrong and your religion is wrong priesess, Matrine is not the only being who holds power over us all. There are many gods, worshipped by many different people... and those that are real, will bring destruction the likes that none have seen in their lifetime or have read about in the lifetimes of their ancestors. Heed my warning Matria of the Matrinox. Our lives are in danger for your people's misguided views." He threw the long cloak over himself and turned his back to her, "Heed my words." He whispered, before quietly exiting the church, leaving Matria standing infront of the altar, her breaths short and panicked as the light of the sunset hit her and then left as the door shut.

The church was silent save for her short breath and whimpers. She mustered up strength to leave the altar and go to her room in the shrine, and there she sat in silence, staring at her altar of Matrine in her quarters. The mans words echoed through her mind as she continued with her daily prayers and chores. His warning followed her everywhere she went each day that brought her closer to the day of heretic excecution. The day before the excecution she found herself in front of the high altar of the church, Matrinoxal followers behind her muttering chants and prayers. A tear from her eye rolled down her cheek, leaving a trail of sadness that fell on her open palm as she kneeled before everything she had grown up believing. Everything that she had known her entire life up to this point meant nothing now that this man had spoken such things to her. Instead of praying, she wondered if what he spoke was going to come to a reality, what if what he had told her was the truth? What would happen should she stop the heretics from being destroyed as example to all who defied the Matrinox? Her eyes shifted to the tear that had fallen to her hand.

Shock filled her as she looked at it. Her reflection filled the tear, and in her reflection she saw its horrifying message. Another tear, and yet another, until she could not stop them from falling from her eyes. The tears fell to the floor, on her robes and on her hands. Only on her pale skin could she see the black liquid and its meaning. Matrine herself had given her the answer. This was true, and the events the man had spoken of where going to become a reality if she did not save this unknown woman. She frantically lifted her skirt and nearly fell down the stairs as she lifted herself to her feet and began to run across the slick floors of the church. The members of the clergy and the church opened their eyes and looked on the High Priestess as she threw the doors open and turned to them.

A collective unified gasp echoed through the church as they looked at her face, covered with streams of black. "The bad omen!" a Clergy member shrieked, his old hands pointing at his High Priestess. She stood there, not knowing anything but the words of the man who had visited her days before. "Listen! Matrine is not the only being who holds power over us all. There are many gods, worshipped by many different people... and those that are real, will bring destruction the likes that none have seen in our lifetime or have read about in the lifetimes of our ancestors. Heed my warning people of the Matrinox! Not only our lives, but others lives are in danger for our people's misguided views! Every religion we hold to be false in our views will come to war on this very world and there will be pain for many years between any religions whos gods are real and powerful! We must stop the excecution of the heretics!" She turned away from the shocked church goers and fromt he eyes of the priests and priestesses and ran down the stairs of the church, fearfully trying to remember where the ceremony was to be held.

Chanting echoed through the skies and she followed the sounds of the men and women who were to excecute the heretics. She ran hard and fast, almost falling as the tears halfway blinded her, as the streets blurred with her mighty speed and the people watched as her black robes flew in the wind. She slid into the courtyard, and there she witnessed a pile of bodies that had once been living people. She looked at the circle of sacrifice, and there stood a young woman, the last of them all. Dark streams rolled down to her chin, staining the cold stone street on which she stood. How beautiful this woman was...Wild red hair of the deepest cinnamon hues wafted in the breeze as if to match the womans sadness. Matria's ocean blue eyes linked to the woman's with such intense determination as if she alone were the saviour this hazel eyed woman may have been praying for. Matria was shocked at the fact that this woman they were about to sacrifice reminded her of herself and felt linked to her through in what could have been a blood connection. For an instance Matria realized that this woman may even have had the same desires and dreams as Matria, just as any other woman their age.

The woman began to cry for her life, pleading with every breath she took. The men and women excecutioners began chanting their mantras, summoning fire and hatred to be thrown on the young woman. She was held in place by chains summoned by the priests and priestess and the very tears that fell from Matrias eyes began to fall from hers. Matria ran to the men and women and pushed them out of their places, stopping their chanting and ending their mantras. "Stop! Stop it! Don't kill her! We will bring an end to our world if she is killed!" The men and women scowled at her and began chanting again, never noticing the black streams on their sacrifices smooth, golden skin. A priest pulled her violently to the side, "She is a heretic High Priestess! She must be destroyed, she has chosen her fate! Do you wish to be burned with her?!" The chanting began to rise louder and louder, and the circle on which the woman stood lit with fire from the deepest depths of the hell which Bialsobuh had been banished to rule as a child.

Matria flung her arm out of the grip of the priest and she ran to the circle, "No! Stop this! She is not a heretic! She is the only thing that stands between peace and war! She is the balance!" The men and women stopped chanting with her words, looking on one another and then at the priestess, whos face was covered with the tears of bad omen. The fires died down and she sighed with relief, and sniffed away her fear. She climbed onto the circle that sat at least half her height from the ground and turned to face the crowd below her. As she looked at the sky thanking Matrine that they had stopped, she noticed movement on the rooftops of the shops and houses. There were people up there. She saw shadows of people on the taller buildings behind the houses and shops as well. As she looked at the crowd below her, she realized that the people were oblivious to the other onlookers that stood above them. The people wore the same clothing as the man who had visited her earlier on that week. She searched for him and found him standing with three other people in the same black clothing with the elegant white stripes. Oe of them was female, but her face was covered completely by the same black cloth that covered his mouth and nose.

The crowd suddenly parted and a voice echoed through the silence. "How dare you?!" Her throat tightened, she recognized that voice, it was the voice of the High Priest, the oldest member of the church. He also happened to be her superior and the one who had blessed her with her name. "What have you done?! This ceremony is a ritual that must not be interrupted! To do so would endanger our church and those that follow Matrine. You have put all here under the wrath of Matrine, the heretics must be destroyed as sacrifice to her! She is angry with them for not worshiping her, and if we let them live she will bring a rage that will end us all!" Matria stood, her voice soft and scared, "If you kill this woman, Matrine and every other god that we do not worship will come down and bring with them a war. She is the one thing that keeps the war at bay..." She pointed at the woman, who let out a small sound at Matria's index finger.

The priest grimaced at the sight of the woman behind Matria, and looked at Matria with disgrace. "You dissapoint me Matria, of all people I believed you to be one who's thoughts and beliefs would go untainted by the false religions of others." Matrias eyes widened as the priests and priestesses once more began there chanting. Fire circled around her and the woman trapping them both, and Matria ran to the chains that held the girl in place attempting to lift them off or pull them away to free her. The chains became hot, and they burned her hands and fingertips, she fell backwards in shock of the sudden pain. She began to sweat from the heat and the black tears dried on her face. She tried wiping them away but it was as if they had permenantly fused with her skin. Matria felt the heat swallow her completely. She began now to cry more of the dreaded black tears, streams of the deepest darkness rolled down her cheeks and she looked on the woman who screamed as her skin began to boil. Matria watched in horror as the womans bones began to show through skin that had been destroyed by the flames on her arms and legs.

Matria began to throb with pain as the flames drew closer to her from the outer parts and the middle of the circle. She looked at the faces of the crowd as they chanted, the heat waves coming out from the ground mottling her view so that they looked as if they weren't real at all. She called on the powers given to her at birth and by the graces of all that she had worshipped, ice flew from her finger tips and over the circle, swallowing the flames whole and stopping the mantras of those who willed to kill her and ignore her words. "All that I've done for you..." She whispered to the crowd whos faces now became real to her eyes, all expressions describing shock and betrayal. "All that I have done for you..." Her voice peaked with hatred and sadness blended into anger.

The people screamed as the very same black liquid that fell from her eyes began to fall from the skies above. The same man who had warned Matria fell from high above and landed on the circle with the blance and grace of an arachnid. He looked down at her, the black raindrops consuming the white fibers of his hair, causing it to shine with a forceful darkness that caught Matria in breath and thought. His eyes looked down at her as he lifted her to his feet, "I saved her, I stopped them...." He shook his head as she looked up at him. She looked at the crowd almost as if to try and find some sort of answer to his disapointing gesture, all silent as they looked at the strange man. She stood, afraid of their faces. If they could, they could destroy them both, her people had power that was said to have been given by Matrine herself. It was then that she turned and looked at the woman. She fell back to her knees at the sight of the charred woman, stuck in horrifying pain. Her faceless body held holes where the eyes, nose and mouth once where, but the emotion she died with was palpable by the look of her blackened figure. Her arms were curled towards the sky, as if she were cursing the heavens with the wrath of a betrayed soul. Her fingers looked like the gnarled wood of a dead tree, and Matria had to force herself to look away to keep from vomiting.

"You have cursed us all Matria! You have cursed us for trying to save her!" The High Priest pointed at the people on the rooftops, and the crowd began shouting and screaming at the site of outsiders in their perfect city. In a flurry of anger the High Priest pointed at Matria and the man, ordering their immediate destruction. The church family had just then arrived, and with this new threat they dared not go against all that they had known in life. The mysterous man pushed MAtria aside, forcing her to fall to the side of the dead woman who stood like a statue in deaths clutches. His hands raised to the sky as if he were praising the black rain that fell from above, and as he threw them down, a bright stream from the sun herself flew from his fingertips at the priest and the crowd. As he released it, Matria watched his body move like a small bird bending towards the nectar of a flower, his head bowed and his arms curled forward resembling the flap of feathered wings, his feet steadily planted against the stone on which he stood. Time seemed to slow for Matria as she watched the flames destroy men and the chanters. To her stunned eyes, the streams of destruction avoided all the innocent men, women and children, dancing around them with prescision and elegance. For a moment she could see the reflections of the orange and red river flowing in their terrified eyes, their innocence protecting them from demise. The men who had threatened the woman and the balance were thrown to the ground and eaten alive by a beautiful monster that had flown from the black lined gloves of this unknown man. They screamed and writhed, attempting to push the flames off themselves. As she looked on, her previous words echoed through her mind, "All that I have done for you..."

Return fire from those that survived the blast of sun the man had released flew through the crowd, destroying any and all in its path. Fire and ice shot through the air, blew the gnarled body of the woman to pieces of ash that flurried like snowflakes into the air around her and the man. She watched the man dodge the blasts with poetic like movement as the ashes flew around his body. Her eyes witnessed his awesome wrath for those that had even betrayed her, one of the highest, most influential members of their society. People ran past her and bumped into her as she fell from the circle down to the ground her eyes stills tuck to the mans dance of destruction. The rain dripped with questions as they hit her skin, thoughts racing through her mind and answers nowhere to be found in the screaming mob of people lost in their own beliefs. He was like a mighty god of war as she loked upon his tall slender body throwing fire at all that she knew and loved once. "Once..." She mustered up the strength in herself to stand to her feet and look around at the scene. Members of this mans society had joined in defending themselves against the members of her once loyal brothers and sisters of the church. Suddenly, as if by some miracle, one of the man's bretheren lifted her from the ground to safety on one of the rooftops just after her High priest flung a large assault of blue flame and curses towards her, his words cutting through her like a knife when his eyes met hers. "Pariah!"

As she stood on the rooftop watching the priest searching for her angrily after seeing no evidence of her death by his hand, she threw up from the terror of this new stress. He had cursed her as an untouchable. As the high priest, he could banish her for any actions he found to be against the church, and he had done just that. She was no longer allowed in the cities of Matrinox, and if found she would be excecuted on sight. Her hero held her hand as she broke down and allowed the sadness to swallow her whole. She felt his arms wrap around her, her hands and backside meeting the gravel on the rooftop as she collapsed into her depression. Having this stranger hold her soothed away some of the sorrow in her heart. She had never met this man, but he held her as if he were an eternal shoulder for her most horrible moments of life. This relieved her, and she wrapped her hands in his cloak and buried her face in his chest, allowing him to sit with her for what seemed like years. He looked at her and then down at the crowd over the side of the building he had lifted her to. "I understand you're pain. But we'll be killed if we stay here any longer. Do you need to be carried?" Matria listened to the screams of the people down below, the blasts from a battle that she could have avoided if she had only gotten there sooner. She nodded, never lifting her head from his chest, her sobs muffled in his black robes as she clutched onto the edges of his cloak.

His hands lifted her and held her as if she were a small child who had fallen asleep in his arms, and soon, the sounds of the battles died down and became nothing but a hazy murmur in the distance. All she felt was the pain in her stomach, the gentle bump of each step he took as he carried her away from danger, his hands holding her as tightly as a protective father. It was at that very moment she realized she had lost everything she held dear, never to see it again. The thought of this made her even more depressed and she almost felt the need to throw up again. She tugged at the sleeve of the man who had given her protection while asking for nothing in return. He stopped in a grassy clearing and let her to her feet, in a wood she had never seen before. The trees stood like giants around them, the grass under her red shoes was the brightest green she had ever seen in her entire lifetime. The leaves above them painted spotted shadows on the ground allowing streams of sunlight to slit through delicatly, forming walls of light and collunms of peace in the clearing. Her nausea fizzled out as she admired this beautiful location. Where was the city? Where were the buildings, the shops and the church?

This place was so different from anything that she had seen before, all she had known in her childhood and teen years were buildings that seemed to never end, reaching for the highest clouds in the sky. She recalled a memory she had from when she was a young child, lifting her arms up in the courtyard in front of the shrine as her mother watched her, imagining that she one day could reach up as far as the towering church and surrounding buildings did. She closed her eyes and saw her tiny hands reaching up and trying to grab the clouds as they wafted by, oblivious to her and the rest of her family down below. "Are you alright?" The voice brought her back to reality. She looked at the young man who had carried her there, but he was't paying attention to her at all. His back was turned to her, as if he wanted to give her privacy as she dove into her memories. She looked at the back of his hair, gently swaying back and forth in the wind. It was fairly short, dirty blonde hair that stuck up almost everywhere on his head. Parts of his locks where long in the front and back, but no longer than maybe the beginning of his collar bone, some pieces of hair shorter than that. Some pieces were straight and some curled or wavy and this brought her to another group of thoughts and questions. What bloodline did these people belong to? What church or society did they belong to? She had never seen such hair or clothing. What she also had never seen before either, was the unrelenting respect these people gave others. Not once did this man ask her name, or judge her for her religion or clothing or faith. Not once did he ask for anything in return for his deeds towards her. He soothed her in her sadness, and protected her from death itself as if he had known her his entire lifetime.

In Matrias years of service to the church, respect and treatment such as this was earned with every assignment and lesson. Rank was named through completed assignments and the amount of devotion you gave to your purpose to the church. Every sin or good deed was held to your name from the age of four and would ultimately decide who you were in the society. She had worked endlessly to get to where she had once been earlier on that day, a High Priestess, held high in love and adoration. It was all gone now, she thought, saddened by that fact. She listened for him to speak again. "Did you... say something?" She asked. He turned to look at her, eyes that matched the wisps of a darkened sky with stormy ocean waves glistened with the reflections of the walls of sunlight forcing themselves through the leaves to the ground. Damn it all, his nose and mouth were covered too! Matria cursed, why were these people so damn secretive?! He shook his head, and his eyes seemed to smile at her with a bit of humour. He lifted a slender arm and pointed behind Matria, then turned his back to her again, occupied with something beyond her understanding. She watched his shoulders haunch forward and head bow down, and looked at the ground in front of his feet to see if there was something unique down there that had somehow caught his attention. There was nothing but grass. "He is praying." She turned quickly, knowing exactly whos voice it was. So he was pointing at the man who had visited her with the warning.

"I asked if you were alright, since he had left you to your own devices to pray." Matria looked back at the man who had carried her away from danger. Indeed, to the mans words, he was deep in prayer. Matria could hear mantras and a language she had never heard before. "Who do you worship?" She inquired with a tone that required respect, a tone she had spoken with all her life as a priestess. The man laughed. "If your asking what god he and I worship, it is definitly not the same god or goddess." Her jaw swung open. "Does that make you uncomfortable? If you'd like I can take you back to the city, back to your church, back to the battle ground, but I doubt that you will have many people alive who will enjoy your company." She shook her head at him. "No.. no no no... it's just that... well it's-" She couldn't find a suitable word that she thought might not upset him.
"Different?" He interrupted her with the word she was searching for. She hated that, she despised being interrupted. However, interruptions aside, he was correct, it was different, extremely different. "Yes." She murmered, eyeing the man caught in prayer. "Whats his name? Why did he help me?" The man who had given her the warning looked at the young man as he whispered the last words of his wishes and desires to his Gods. "We call him Mel. It's much easier that way, he hates it when people mispronounce his name because it is so long and in his language. He helped you because you needed it." He extended a hand towards her and she stepped back, recalling the power that sprouted from the very same hand earlier. "I'm Aydin. It is a pleasure to make your aquaintance." She looked at his left hand, and slowly she lifted her right arm up and grasped his, and he shook it gently.

"How did you already know my name?" He let her hand go, walking slowly backwards through a wall of sunlight to a tree behind him. His back found it and he leaned back, cocking his head to one side and lifting his left foot and gently laying it over the right as it held him up steadily. "I know more than many people know. You are Matria, named after your goddess Matrine at the age of four, as per tradition in your religion. You became High Priestess when you turned sixteen which I must say is a very strong achievment for someone your age. You are currently nineteen years of age, you were born in the church you served in, baptised at three, and you have a small scar on your left wrist from falling down the third stair of your churches courtyard when you were eight years of age." Matria swallowed down her disbelief as he muttered out facts that no one outside the city or outside the church in some cases, could have known. "You, in a quite humorous accident, lit one of the cloths that lay over the altar of matrine on fire during one of your prayers when you were twelve and used the baptising water, that was to be used for a young baby boy that day, to put it out." Her mouth swung open at that bit of information. Mel chuckled behind her and she turned and scowled at him, silencing him immedietly.

"How do you know all this?!" Her voice was so loud that it caused nearby birds to jump off their selected branches and fly away in fear. He pushed himself off of the tree, and after the fluttering of frightened birds ended, he began to circle her. She followed him with each step. "I have known you all your life because I have watched many people all my life. It is what I do. I study and through that I learn." She squinted her eyes suspiciously. "About what?" He stopped in front of her and leaned down into her face, his about two inches from hers, meeting her eyes with concentration. "Everything." He whispered with a voice that gave her shivers down her spine. A rustling of the trees caused her to lift her eyes from him, and she looked in the direction of which they came.

There in the distance, beyond the wood she had been carried to, was the tall buildings of the city of Matrinox. The tops of trees that were visible to her shook with movement and swayed slightly. Closer and closer to her, more and more of the trees began to move and sway. She looked at Aydin for an answer, but he simply walked to Mel, and began speaking to him in the unknown language she had heard Mel muttering earlier. She backed away from the sight, and for some reason pulled Mel from Aydins conversation, in front of her so that he faced the movement. Mel looked at her with a bit of confusion as she hid behind him, peering over his shoulder at the moving canopy. A shadowed figure lept from a treetop about twenty feet before the trees that surrounded Matria and the two men. She watched as it began to fall towards them and she backed away some more, keeping Mel in tow as her shield. The figure landed on the ground in front of Aydin, and Matria watched as it came to view. It was a woman. Her body was slender, her wide hips standing out the most. She lay her hands on her skinny waisst, and looked at Mel with piercing eyes. She cocked her head towards the sight of Matria cowaring behind the five-foot-eleven man in front of her. "Is this her? She doesn't seem like much." Her voice gave off the sound of a woman aged. Matria examined her eyes and body, and guessed her to be about twenty nine or maybe twenty eight years of age. Her hair stuck up in the air, whisping like the flames of a candle. Her hair was a dark amber color with hints of honey streaming from the roots up to the tips, a few strands floating gently over her eyebrow that matched the color of her hair.

Her fingers were unusually long, maybe an inch longer than Matrias. She was also very tall, taller than her and Mel, who shared just about the same height, save for him having one more inch than her. Matria guessed the womans height to be the same range as Aydin, who stood a good two feet above herself. The woman was joined by two more figures that fell from the sky, one of them was very short covered by a cloak tailored to their specific size, and the other looked to be about a foot taller then herself. She could tell that the one that was taller than her was a male, because save for the hood over his head, his cloak was open and she could see the lines of his body. Both of their faces were completely covered by the same black cloth that Aydin wore over half of his face. The woman spoke again, "Why is she hiding?" Aydin was silent and he shrugged at her, turning and walking past Mel and Matria, walking behind her. Matria watched him walk into the trees behind her, slowly dissapearing into the distance. The short one passed her right, and the young man walked past her left. She could tell he was looking at her, even though his face and head were covered by black cloth and cloak. In the sunlight she could see a defined jawline with a chin that pointed directly at her.

Mel tried to turn and follow but Matria held him in place, her hands placed firmly on his shoulders. The woman let out a small remark to Mel in his language, and walked past them. Matria then allowed Mel free from her grip and she followed closely behind him. She looked everywhere she could around herself, unsure of her new surroundings. Mel looked back at her constantly making sure she was still behind him, every time he turned she would stop and look at him and then around herself with insecurity in her eyes. Mel sighed at her and lifted his hand, making a gesture for her to grab it. She stood there, on a mossy log and he looked up at her, waving his hand slightly to show her it was ok. She reached for it and he helped her down to his level. After that, it was like they were attached. She wouldn't let go of him, and he kept her close in tow behind him or in front of him if needed leading her to a place only Aydin and the rest of them knew of. Matria looked around, no longer afraid, just curious. Vines hugged the bodies of trees in the forest, and the canopy provided shade, allowing some light to peek through their leaves as their branches reached out and wrapped themselves around the branches and stalks of neighboring trees. Her red shoes becamse dirty on the bottom, scuffed a bit from her unfortunate discovery of rocks hidden by fallen leaves on the path they walked. The air was fresh and small things floated in the air, like dust on some of her old schoolbooks in the Matrinox shrines library.

The colors were like nothing she had ever seen before. Bright green was met with a harsh assortment of brown, red and orange. As she followed Mel, she felt almost like a child again. Stuck in wonder and amazment with the simple beauty of something new and strange. She had seen trees and leaves before, but not like this, not in such an exaggerated form. Her mouth hung open as she took in all that the forest had to offer her, her eyes wide and heart skipping beat. Animals she had only read about scurried out of their path or jumped alongside them as the traveled through. Matria followed her footsteps with her eyes and her feet brushed over fallen leaves and twigs, meshed together in a rainbow of dark shades. Her moment of wonder was elevated even more by the sudden appearance of a stream next to their path. The croaking of frogs and songs of birds captivated her ears, and she found herself not knowing what to do with all the emotion these things began to envoke in her.

She looked ahead, wondering if the others felt the same thing, but they didn't. She frowned at their blindness to the amazing surroundings. Mel turned and looked at her, and just when she was about to ask him what he thought of all the things in her newest experience, he whispered, "Beautiful, yeah?". Her heart swelled. They did feel the same things. Her face flooded with joy and she let loose a smile she had never had before. She ran ahead everyone, leaving them in confusion behind her, as she danced around in the leaves and let her laughter ring through the trees into the sky. Aydin raised an eyebrow to her obvious change in personality. Mel slipped inbetween Aydin and the tall slender woman who had frightened Matria earlier. Aydin laughed, "This isn't like her at all." Mel listened to him, intently watching Matrias giddy jumps and swirls. The woman leered at the girl jumping and kicking leaves all around the forest floor. "You said she was quiet and serious all the time." She snapped, cocking herself to the side, leaning on her right hip, arms holding her sides in anger.

Aydin laughed even louder, "She was." The woman scoffed, her patience wearing thin with the situation at hand., "Then whats wrong with her? Why isn't she herself?" Aydin looked on at Matria, her laughter echoing past him, and his voice softened to a whisper. "I said she was serious... Was." Mel sprang forward and grabbed Matrias hand and joined in her happiness, kicking leaves with her and swinging her around, his arms tight around her waist as she drank in all that this new moment had to offer. The short hooded person also joined in, the young man that had arrived with the older woman in tow, their laughter loud and childlike. Matria stopped and looked down as a tug came at her pleated black skirt. The short one, obviously wanted soemthing because the tugs grew harder, until Matria was forced to kneel down to face it. Small little hands reached up and pulled the cloak hood backwards, and then the mask off sortly afterwards. Short feathered crimson red hair puffed out at all angles and the big green eyes of a a little girl stared into Matrias, a small little nose twitched a little and a smile appeared. Matria's mind rushed with thoughts, she had never seen a child with green eyes before. The only child recorded to have green eyes in her society was Bialsobuh, but this child was warm, her eyes overflowing with joy and innocence.

The little girl's eyes left Matria and she skipped over to the young man, hidden in the same manner as she was. He knelt down to her reach and allowed her to pull his hood down and his mask down halfway only. Matria's previous question rang through her head again. So damn secretive! His eyes were green as well masculine in every curve and line. His hair was the same amazing shade as the little girls, the only thing he had that the girl didn't were streaks of a honey like color running through the strands of hair in the back and left side. Matria was astounded by the different range of hair color and eye color, not to mention height and body shape these people had. Were they all from the same society? It didn't seem to be true, however, they all acted as if they did belong to the same culture and society, bound by the same rules. Maybe it's only rules they are bound by, she thought to herlsef, maybe they're instructed to live amongst one another...

dreams

Sat, 08 Dec 2007 08:51:36 GMT

I saw fire, explosions, death, destruction. Hatred twisted around me and consumed me. Screams echoed.
A thundering sound.
A short gasp exits my lips.
Feeling like I am in water, I cant breath, cannot speak.
A warm feeling begins to flow from inside my stomach. A burning sensation lights my entire being, as if fire has been set on my limbs, my face, behind my eyes.
I feel helpless, hopeless. The only thing I know is an unending pain and terror overwhelming my entire being.

My body shakes. tremors take over and I lay there, the sky like a blue pool of clear thought. My ears hear my breath, my fingertips are beating with the pulse of my panicked soul.

This is pain.
this is terror.
This is a pool of memories swarming into my mind.
This is thoughts of fear and sadness.
This is a bullet, in my body.

would you

Fri, 07 Dec 2007 05:24:00 GMT

View Poll: would you

Saving kitty

Mon, 03 Dec 2007 21:37:23 GMT

The T.V. in the background echoed with the noises of two boys chatting about a strange neighbor. Through the noise that wafted through the house, a best friend lay on the couch, snoozing away, content in her dreams. Ky watched her. She deserved sleep. She had a headache and was a little tuckered after treating the temporary new additions to the family. Ky stood from the futon, which she would sleep on tonight, if she got the blankets washed in time after the... accident. Kneeling down to the quiet kennel, she looked in through the white mesh at the five furry bodies, huddled softly together in the warm soft blankets. They were all tucked gently next to a large bottle filled with hot water, to keep them cozy and at healthy body temperature.

They were lively and full of curiosity when awake, feeding time every twenty minutes or so, and they were getting better. Ky thought to herself sadly. One had a curled foot, and she lovingly gave the name "Curly" last night, it was an offspring of inbreeding, as were its brothers and sisters. A calico in the bunch, was lovingly given the name zippy, for her obsession with the zippers of Ky's sweaters. A black one, a female that was both furocious and lively, was named Trouble... The rest hadn't found names yet, but Ky and her best friend Chris were ready and waiting for their personalities to give inspiration. All were healthy...Ky frowned, except two. A pair of bodies lay under the pile of its siblings, as if the others wanted to make sure their siblings would survive. One white, one black. Ky and Chris were glad the white was getting better, now drinking at least two and a half cc's of kat mmilk replacment in one feeding. The black however, would not drink. Its body was weak, and Ky's heart dropped as she watched the kitten take in a deep breath and let out a soft sigh, if only it got better like last night.

She remembered Chris's words. Earlier that day she had told Ky that they always get better right before death, like a sudden burst of hope before the flame fizzled. Ky felt even worse. She hoped it would live, she longed for it to get up and start meowing for food, so she could curl its weak little body in her hands and make t strong once more. Today she hadn't even been able to get more than one and a half to two cc's in him all day. For feeding every twenty minutes, this wasn't going well. She hoped and prayed that he would get stronger. She gave him a bath earlier and kissed his head after he rolled into a ball and sat right between her breasts in the top of her shirt, its head softly rubbed against her skin as if he were asking her for strength.

She wished she could give him some of her strength. He deserved to live. Babies shouldn't die before they get to live.

Ky fed the kittens once more, feeling their bellies, content with their fullness. The white kitten that was previously ill, had been getting proggessivly better eating more and more and it even began to explore. Ky sadly picked up the fifth kitten, its weak body twisting strangely in her hand. Curiously she looked on, watching as it twisted and writhed, as if it were in pain. Her heart fell. why was it doing this? Was it in pain? She felt a lump in her throat. LIVe. OPEN YOUR EYES AND MEOW. DO SOMETHING. Its eyes were glazed and looked sad. He was helpless. She grabbed the syringe and tried to place it behind te big tooth, tried opening its tightly closed jaw to drop a small bit of the formula in its dry mouth. It stopped eating, didn't even try anymore... didn't swallow, just let it drip down the side of its jaw. Ky felt like crying, worry in her heart. What if he doesn't survive? Will it die? She placed all the kittens in the kennel, and woke Chris up.
"chris, you have to help me with the black one, hes limp and doesn' move, and hes twisting whenever I pick him up..."
Chris sighed as she lay there. this had happened before for her and she knew what to say. "There is no hope for that kitten. My mom knew the moment it got here that it was gone. I'm sorry."
"well, isnt there something we can do? I've seen animals and people in those situations make it out alive and well. Can't she just like, stick a tube in its stomach and feed it through that?"
"no, its too late, it was too late a while ago. Plus I'm sure that most of those situations were'nt kittens without moms."
"Well we can't just let it die slowly and painfully like that, can't we let him go humanly?"
"My mom is bringing some stuff to put it to sleep when she gets home from work."
"We should name him." Ky sadly spoke."Before he goes he should have a name."
"Its sad to give something a name before it dies." Chris spoke. "It makes it worse, because you've ade that bond."
Ky lookeda t the floor, now sitting on the couch next to chris, bundling her feet up in the blankets Chris had been wrapped up in. Sadly, it was true, but Ky thought it wouldn't be nice if it didn't have an identity. She named it Chance. They gave it a chance, that was all that mattered. Ky smiled. At least they gave him a chance. Chris's mom had taken him later that night, anger inside her for the little ones health being so low. She had Ky fill a bottle with hot water, and seperated it from the other kittens.
"All it needs now is a warm quiet place so it can go peacefully and happily. Thats all we can do for him now." Her voice held sadness. It was a truly depressing moment, that something so fragile had lost any hope and had given up. Ky sat with it for a while. Watching its chest slowly rise and fall with every breath, Ky didn't know if each breath would be the last. Each time Chance exhaled she prayed that he would breath agan. The kitten moaned quietly, and Ky rubbed the back of its head. Its moans stopped, as though it knew it was safe and loved. He fell into another deep slumber, and Ky left it to be in peace.

Ky was awake for most of that night, watching movies, checking to see that the kittens were all comfortable. Chance was quiet, and each moment she looked upon the little box he was in she wondered if he was still in this world. Part of her imagined him suddenly getting up and meowing for food and love, crawling over the side of the box, looking for a friend, a mother. He didn't climb over the box. He didn't meow. He just slept. Lay stiff and quiet when he was awake, staring away into nothingness with glazed eyes. Soon Ky fell asleep, and her dreams took her in. that morning, she awoke to her friend Chris and kittens strolling around.
"How's Chance?"
Chris looked at the box. "He's gone. He went in his sleep, my mom took him to work."
Ky looked at the box sadly. They couldn't save him. At least he passed peacefully. Chris's mom said he couldn't feel any pain and that he was to far gone to feel anything when he died... She smiled. They gave it a chance. It died with love in its body and peace in its heart.
They worked their hardest, in the hope of saving kitty.

Dream chronicles

Mon, 29 Oct 2007 16:27:13 GMT

*be waiting the next time I write something, because it will be from my dreams. It may even be from my life.