October 12, 2019

Flash Fiction Challenge #2

By solarisgaudium

Hello! Some more exciting news, I have submitted my flash ficton piece for round two! I won’t know the results for a couple more weeks, but since it has been confirmed that my subission was recieved I can share this! I’m very excited, this was actually kind of difficult to write. The prompt was Thriller/Indoor Running Track/Ashtray, and I have never written a triller before. It took a lot of research before I was confortable enough to give it a shot, and I’m hoping that I suceeded. We will find out soon! Please let me know what you think, I will post the story below.

Another thing I wanted to mention really quick is I had the wonderful opportunity to go to my first writers conference! I learned so much, and I had the opportunity to have the first ten pages of my book critiqued by an agent! Jim McCarthy was amazing and he had some really good advice. It also gave me the desire to finish editing my book and finally get it to the point of publishing it! I’m so excited!

I’ll go more indepth at a later point. For now, I hope you enjoy Countdown, and I hope you have a wonderful day/evening!

It was a day just like any other, and that’s what made the whole situation more infuriating. People were going about their day as though nothing was wrong, as though doom and chaos wasn’t just around the corner, waiting to engulf them.

Vincent ran down the sidewalk, his shoes pounding against the pavement as he pushed his way through the people ignoring their shouts of protest. They wouldn’t be so upset if they understood the gravity of the situation, lives were at stake!

He kept running until finally reaching his destination; the old, rundown gym. The city had it condemned and slated for demolition and reconstruction. However, after many years of other projects taking priority and the deed of the property passing through so many hands, it was forgotten. The boarded up windows and chain link fence did nothing to deter the local youth from entering and using it as a place for vandalism, unguarded drug use, and general teenage rebellion.

Vincent prayed it would be empty, but he already knew that wasn’t the case. With practiced ease he climbed up and over the fence, pausing on the other side for only a second before darting to the nearest door. He yanked it open. The hinges screeched in protest, but did not give much resistance. Why wasn’t it locked? Was she expecting him? The thought filled Vincent with dread, but he entered the building anyway.

Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary at first. The floor was littered with empty beer bottles, wrappers of every kind and empty spray paint cans, while the walls were covered from floor to ceiling with colorful graffiti. Words, phrases, and images blurred together, not a blank space anywhere to be seen. This used to be a welcoming sight for him, a place where he could escape.

Vincent pushed back these thoughts and quickly made his way deeper into the building. His goal was on the other side of the large, spacious room, a set of double doors that led to what was once an indoor running track. He glanced down at the watch on his wrist and noted that he only had maybe fifteen minutes left. This was not going to be easy.

As soon as he reached the doors Vincent pushed on them, but to his dismay they didn’t budge. Of course he wouldn’t be that lucky. With growing impatience he attempted to peer through the grimy windows into the room.

Unlike the rest of the building, the trash that had covered the track had been cleared away to make room for a few large tables that were covered with electronics, wires, and a various chemicals. Looking down, Vincent could see that a couple of old lockers had been moved and were blocking the doors. Still, he couldn’t see anyone actually in the room. He had to get in there, but how?

The window in the door seemed big enough to climb through, but he still needed something to break the glass. Vincent glanced around until his eyes landed on a large, metal ashtray. That just might do it. He picked it up, relieved to find it was heavier than it looked. Without hesitation he threw it as hard as he could at the door, feeling elation inside when the glass shattered.

He quickly but carefully, crawled through the open hole and darted towards the tables that were curved to follow the track. On the table in the middle was an old laptop computer, showing a countdown on the screen. A harsh ringing made him jump, and Vincent quickly pulled out his phone, the caller ID flashing the name Lizzy. With growing panic as he noticed the time, he answered, “Lizzy, where are you?”

The answer wasn’t immediate, and for a second Vincent wondered if the call was accidental, until a cold, yet familiar voice replied, “I’m where I need to be Vinny. What about you?”

“This has to stop Lizzy!” Vincent said, his voice rising. “We were supposed to only cause a scare, not actually kill people!”

Lizzy sighed. “Vincent, how else are we supposed to get our message across without some casualties?” She sounded patronizing, as though scolding a child. “They won’t hear us unless we are loud enough.”

Vincent felt his blood run cold. “Liz, I won’t let you do this. What the foster parents did was terrible, but the other kids don’t deserve to die!”

“They don’t deserve to live in pain and fear either,” Lizzy replied. “Now go back to your post. We can’t let the court officials leave the court house before the bomb goes off.”

Vincent stood there, frozen with indecision. Lizzy had always known what to do and had worked hard to protect him from the brunt of their foster parents’ abuse. She knew what to do, and things always worked out for the best if he just listened to her.

Then the thought of the other kids, the innocent ones who had done nothing wrong in their short lives, reminded him why he was doing this. Steeling his resolve, Vincent replied firmly. “No, Lizzy, this ends now. I won’t become a murderer, and neither will you.” He hung up the call before he lost his nerve.

Looking at the computer, Vincent saw the timer was now at five minutes. He had to move fast. Pulling up a couple of programs, he began the slow, painful process to disable each bomb remotely, starting with the one at the foster home. The timer continued to count down as he worked, reminding him of the short amount of time he had to save so many lives. Lives he had endangered in the first place.

Minutes turned into seconds, each tick of the timer echoing loudly in Vincent’s skull until finally, all of the bombs were disabled. Everyone was safe with seconds to spare! Now he just had to-

The room exploded, cutting off Vincent’s final thought. Of course Lizzy had one more trick up her sleeve.

Leave a comment   |  tags: , | posted in Flash Fiction 2019

September 16, 2019

Flash Fiction Challenge, Round One!

By solarisgaudium

Hello all! Sure has been a while, hasn’t it? A lot has happened over the summer that would take forever to write here, so here’s a super condensed version. Some stuff happened with school and I had to drop out, with plans of going to a different school in the near future. Then I had the absolutely wonderful opportunity to work in Alaska for the summer, where I learned so many things!

One major thing that happened over the summer is I entered a flash fiction writing contest that NYCMidnight hold every year. It’s a contest where people from all over the world create short stories (1,000 words max) that are based off of randomized prompts that contain a genre, a location, and an object. Those stories then have to be written and submitted within 48 hours. I actually just submitted my round two story and will hear about the results in a few weeks, but a few days ago I got the results for round one.

I made it to second place in my group!!

The prompt was Crime Caper/Vineyard/Laminating Machine, and as soon as I got the prompt I knew immediately what story I was going to write! Unfortunately I was at work when I got the prompt so I had to wait before I could actually write, but I was able to complete it within the 48 hour limit. Let me tell you, trying to write a cohesive story with no more than 1,000 words is a lot harder than it sounds!

Anyways, I would like to share with you guys the story I submitted for round one, Close Call. I hope you enjoy it, I had a ton of fun writing it.

At the top of a large hill sat a Winery, its vineyard spilling down the hillside in every direction. The full moon, unhindered by clouds, bathed it in a cool white light. The night was peaceful and inhabitants, both inside the building and out, slept.

Suddenly, a loud crash sounded as the back door of the house burst open and two figures spilled out into the night. The sounds of shouts followed them, as the owner, yelling profanities waved a baseball bat at the rapidly retreating figures.

A man and a woman, dressed in dark clothing, ran between rows of grapevines, using them for cover as they vanished into the dark of the night.

“What were you thinking?” The woman hissed to her partner. “You should have known better than to try to lift that crate by yourself!”

The man was running beside her, one hand gripping a large bag over his shoulder, the other holding what appeared to be a large machine under his arm. “I’m sorry okay? It was heavier than it looked!”

“It was full of wine bottles!”

“How was I supposed to know that?!”

“It’s a winery! What did you think?”

The two kept running, the sloping hill helping with their speed. All too soon, however, the wail of approaching sirens could be heard in the distance.

“Crap, it’s the cops!” The woman growled. She glanced around for something, anything that could serve as a quick hiding place.

Her eyes landed on what looked like an old shed standing near the edge of the vineyard. Perhaps Lady Luck was smiling down on them after all.

“That way!” She told her partner, pointing to the shed before changing direction toward it. Within moments they were both inside, quickly closing the door behind them, muffling the sounds of the police sirens.

The woman slid her back down the door and sat on the floor, breathing heavily. Her legs and lungs burned, but she still had enough energy to flip off her partner.

“What was that for?!” He cried, also breathing heavily as he dropped the bag.

“For getting us into this mess, Greg.”

“Listen,” Greg protested, now sitting as well, “I admit I screwed up, but cut me some slack! It’s been a while since we’ve hit a place this big before.”

The woman glared at him through half closed eyelids. “I won’t listen to any excuses until we get out of here without getting caught.” Her eyes fell to the device Greg was still holding under his arm. “Did you seriously just take a laminating machine?!”

Greg had a confident expression. “Cynthia, do you know how much these things cost? It could easily go for $400!”

“Out of all of the things we were able to nab, you chose a laminating machine?!”

Under Cynthia’s gaze, Greg’s facade fell and he shifted uncomfortably, toying with the lid to the machine and avoiding Cynthia’s eyes. “I thought it would be useful. Since Mr. Carmine woke up, I grabbed the most valuable thing in the room, and it happened to be this.”

Cynthia groaned and turned her head in order to hear through the cracked door. The sirens were still blaring, but they didn’t change in volume anymore. The cars must have reached the house, she mused silently. They didn’t have much time left.

“Alright genius,” she said in a low tone. “Just put the stupid thing in the bag so you have a free hand. Cops will be swarming this place any minute, so we gotta get back to the car, ASAP.”

Greg nodded as he carefully place the machine into the bag. “I noticed a patch of trees a little bit away from here. We might be able to get back to the road through there.”

Cynthia stood up, ignoring her protesting legs. “Alright, on the count of three we ditch this place and head for the trees. If we get separated we meet back up at the car.”

“Got it,” Greg replied as he stood, hoisting the bag over his shoulder.

Cynthia looked back out the cracked door. She saw nothing but the flashing of lights up the hill. “Okay, let’s skirt to the back of the shed, then make a break for it. One…two…three!”

The two of them darted out of the shed and around to the back, the shed door (thankfully) closing quietly behind them. Soon the building blocked them both from view of the house, and they ran.

Cynthia’s legs were throbbing as she ran. Pushing through the pain, she ran as fast as she possibly could towards the trees. Appearing through the trees in front of her was the road. She ran straight to it.

Greg stayed close to her, following right behind her as she ran. They might actually-

Shouts echoed behind them while Cynthia cursed under her labored breath. Their luck finally ran out. They had been spotted.

She didn’t dare look back, praying that they had enough of a head start. They just had to keep running and go as fast as they could trying not to trip in the dark. We can do this, we can do this, we can do this! Cynthia repeated the mantra in her head, willing her legs to go faster.

After what felt like an eternity, they broke through the trees and ran out onto the road. A quick glance around revealed that they were a few yards away from the end of the road leading up to the winery. And just further down from them was-

“No way!” Greg exclaimed as he darted to their car hidden in the trees. “We actually made it!”

Cynthia didn’t reply, jerking open the drivers’ side door and jumping in, immediately turning the key and racing down the road before Greg closed his door.

It wasn’t until they were a safe distance away that Cynthia began to relax. They had made it.

“Greg?”

“Yeah?”

“I never want to see that stupid machine again.”

“…okay…”

Leave a comment   |  tags: , | posted in Writing

April 25, 2018

New Semester and Isra’s Backstory

By solarisgaudium

Hey everyone! Sure has been a while, hasn’t it? Well, a lot of that has to do with the fact that I’ve started school again. I took last semester off so that I could take a break and figure out some stuff, but now I’m back at it! I’m only taking a couple of classes so I can manage my time a little more easily, so fingers crossed I don’t nearly fail like last year…

Anyways, like I promised before I finished one of the backstories for a DnD character of mine: Isra Alta. She is an Aasimar, which is basically an angel, but she is Fallen. I had never played an Aasimar before and I fell in love with their culture and behaviors, but I couldn’t decide if I wanted a Fallen character or not. So, I figured out how to have both! Sort of. I love Isra so much and this will definitely not be the last time you hear from her.

Here is the story of how Isra became Fallen. Please let me know what you think (I barely edited this so please be gentle) and if you would like to know more about her (our DM already made me cry because of Isra’s past that I would love to share if you want to read it)

Enjoy!

“What’s your name?”

Isra jumped and turned to see a pair of small, reddish brown eyes staring at her through the bushes. Isra scrambled from her hiding place, a tiny area between a group of bushes, and out into the open. The sun was shining through the trees of the forest, covering the ground with dappled shadows, and the light that shone on Isra illuminated the golden feathers in her silver hair like some sort of misshapen halo.

The eyes followed Isra until a small half-elf girl emerged from the bushes, her thick, dark red hair full of leaves and twigs. The girl held out her hand confidently and asked again, “what’s your name?”

Isra shrunk back from the hand. “Why do you wanna know?”

The girl lowered her hand and shrugged. “I just moved here with my dad. He said I should make friends and you seemed lonely.”

Isra looked away, her face downcast. “Then you should go be friends with someone else. No one likes me, so you won’t have friends either if you’re seen with me.”

“Why not?” The girl looked genuinely curious.

Isra wrapped her arms around herself, not quite sure what to make of this newcomer. “Because I’m different. I don’t look like the other kids.”

The girl stepped forward and Isra flinched and closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable slap, rock, or harsh word. But nothing happened for a while, and she timidly opened her eyes. The half-elf was examining the feathers in Isra’s hair curiously, a look of wonder on her face. “Well, yeah, you look different, but not that different. I saw lots of people with feathers in their hair, and you look like an angel.”

Isra stared at the girl in shock and felt her face grow hot. “A-angel?”

“Mh-hm,” the girl replied. She noticed the feathers peeking out from under Isra’s shirt and looked excited. “Oh! Do you have wings too?”

Isra instinctively put her hands on her shoulders. She was so used to the other kids pulling at them, plucking feathers from her shoulders and staring at them in disgust. Who was this strange girl? Hesitantly, Isra nodded and closed her eyes to concentrate. She could feel a weight beginning to hang from her shoulders and tiny feathered wings appeared, ruffled like a bird just getting their feathers and at an awkward angle from protruding out from under her shirt.

“Woah!” the girl exclaimed excitedly, “Those look beautiful!”

Isra looked at the ground a bit sheepishly as the wings rapidly disappeared. “Thanks. I can’t keep them out for long yet.”

The girl looked at Isra thoughtfully. “I’ve never had an angel for a friend before.” She held out her hand again. “Wanna be friends? I can beat up the bullies for you, and you can show me around. Deal?”

Isra stared at the hand nervously. This girl seemed welcoming, but what if it was just an act? Another clever ploy to get Isra to let her guard down, make her vulnerable? But something told her, something deep down, that this girl was different from the others. She took the girl’s hand and shook it, albeit a bit timidly. “I’m Isra.”

The girl smiled, revealing a couple missing teeth.

“I’m Tylanys.”

The sun shone brightly on the city, illuminating most of the darkened streets and alleys. Isra basked in the sun’s glow, relishing in the warmth and comfort it always brought her.

“Oh sure, show off your angelic heritage!” her friend snickered besides her, playfully wapping at one of Isra’s golden feathers that were scattered throughout her hair.

Isra smirked at the half-elf girl walking next to her and summoned her white feather wings, then flapped her friend with the one closest to her, effectively ruffling the half-elf’s dark red hair before they vanished. “Tease all you want, Tylanys. I’m going to enjoy this momentary freedom as much as I can.”

Tylanys scowled as she attempted to fix her hair. “Jeeze, you make the temple sound like a prison.”

“It feels like it sometimes,” Isra sighed.

Once satisfied with her hair, Tylanys clapped a hand on Isra’s armored shoulder. “That’s why I’m here. To give you a chance at some fun!”

Isra grinned at Tylanys. “Am I going to regret whatever kind of fun you have planned?”

Tylanys shot Isra a mischievous smile. “Don’t worry, it’s not gonna be anything morally wrong that you’ll have to repent for later. Maybe.”

Isra shook her head, chuckling. “Somehow, I knew you would say that. Just promise me you’re not going to snatch anything.”

“Aw, come on, you know me better than that!” Tylanys protested. “I may be a thief, but I don’t go around stealing things all the time.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Isra playfully mocked, which earned her a light punch in the shoulder. As they continued walking, Isra couldn’t help but smile to herself. It had been a while since she was able to properly hang out with her friend, what with the ever growing regime her training was becoming and Tylanys rapidly rising in the ranks of the thieves guild.

Isra remembered the say Tylanys told her she joined the guild, after her father officially retired. Isra had barely started her training at the temple, and Tylanys had become more secretive about her whereabouts.

“Tylanys, where have you been?” Isra asked impatiently, her arms crossed. “You were supposed to meet me here ages ago.”

Tylanys looked down sheepishly, fiddling with the sash around her waist. “I’m sorry, I just got distracted. I promise it won’t happen again!”

Isra frowned. “That’s what you said the last three times. Tylanys, is something wrong?”

Tylanys wouldn’t meet Isra’s eyes. “No, nothing, everything is fine. I’m just busy, that’s all. You don’t need to worry.”

She was hiding something, and it frustrated and worried Isra. They never hid anything from each other, but now it seemed that her best friend was drifting away from her. Isra sat down on a nearby bench and motioned for Tylanys to join her, which she did. “Tylanys,” Isra started, “you don’t have to hide anything from me. What’s going on?”

Tylanys stayed quiet and stared at her wringing hands. Isra didn’t push, no matter how much she wanted to. She couldn’t force Tylanys to talk to her, so she waited. After what seemed like an eternity, Tylanys looked up at Isra, her eyes brimming with worry. “Isra, you have to promise me that you won’t hate me.”

Isra looked at her best friend, bewildered. “I would never hate you, Tylanys, you know that!” A knot of worry began to form in Isra’s stomach. What could have happened to make Tylanys so worried like this?

After taking a deep breath, Tylanys closed her eyes. “Ijoinedthethievesguild!”

The sentence came out at once, rapid and jumbled, and Isra stared at Tylanys while she tried to decipher it. “What?”

Tylanys held her hands together tightly, so much so that her knuckles were turning white. “I joined the thieves guild.” she said, slower this time. “Dad told me what he was really doing while I was young. He wasn’t adventuring, he was working gigs that he would pick up at the guild. It’s how we got so many interesting things. He would snatch more than what was required and kept the extra, especially if he liked it.” Tylanys paused to take anther deep, cleansing breath. “When he told me, I got curious. Long story short, the Guild Master was impressed with my skills and offered me a position, and I accepted.” She finally looked up at Isra. “That’s why I’ve been late so much, I’ve been returning from jobs at the guild, and you can’t rush those or else you get caught.”

Isra stayed quiet, her face a frozen state of disbelief, as she attempted to process what Tylanys just told her.

Tylanys rapidly grew more nervous and began to fidget as she wait for Isra to respond. “…Isra? Please say something!”

Isra’s face slowly melted into a more neutral state, and she sighed. “Are you happy?”

“I know it’s not the more moral career and I understand if you- wait what?”

“Are you happy?” Isra repeated.

Tylanys stared at Isra, searching her face. “Yeah.” She said, sounding confident for the first time. “Yeah, I am happy. More happy than anything else has made me in a long time.”

Isra gave her friend a small smile. “If you’re happy, then I’m happy. I may not agree with your choice, but you’re my friend, Tylanys. I just want you to be happy.”

Tylanys was still for a split second before practically tackling Isra in a fierce hug. “Thank you Isra! I was so worried you would hate me!”

Isra laughed. “I would never hate you. All I ask is that you don’t do anything either of us will regret later.”

“Of course!” Tylanys said, ecstatic with how the conversation had gone. “I promise to be careful and not get into too much trouble!”

“Good!” Isra replied. “Now, I still have some time before I have to return to the temple. Did you still want to go check out the shops?”

Tylanys nodded enthusiastically. “Let’s go!”

Fingers snapping in her face brought Isra back to the present. “Helloooo, Isra, you awake in there?” Tylanys asked.

Isra chuckled and nodded. “Sorry, I was just daydreaming.”

“Well enough of that!” Tylanys replied. “We should pick up the pace if we want to make it to the market before it closes for the day!”

Isra opened her mouth to say something when Tylanys suddenly tackled her to the ground. “What was-” she started, until she saw the arrow sticking out of the wall where she had stood. “Tylanys, what’s going on?”

Tylanys didn’t answer right away, her face grim. “Come on, we need to get out of here.” She offered a hand to Isra to help her up when another arrow whizzed past her head.

Isra jumped to her feet and grabbed her lance, looking around carefully. Movement caught her eye and she noticed a dark figure weaving through the shadows towards them. She caught Tylanys’s eye and she nodded. She had seen it too. Without a word the two of them split, Isra charging at where the shadow was and Tylanys melting into the shadows herself.

Once Isra reached where she saw the shadow she looked around for any trace of the owner. She almost turned to look somewhere else until a faint scuffling noise came from above her. Without hesitation she threw her lance upward and a muffled cry was followed by a loud crash as a figure dressed in black fell from the roof Isra’s lance had pierced through.

The figure slowly stood and Isra could see that they were human, but their features were hidden behind a dark scarf so that only their eyes were visible. They locked eyes with Isra and she saw that they were cold and hard. Isra felt her blood run cold. Assassin?!

Tylanys leapt from the shadows at the assassin and they stepped to the side effortlessly. A glint of silver came from their hand and they slashed the dagger at Tylanys, and the two of them began a dance as Tylanys avoided the attacks and the assailant chased after her.

Isra summoned her wings and flew up towards her lance. Once it was wrenched free, she flew towards the assassin with her spear pointed at them.

The assassin barely saw the attack in time. The lance glanced off of their arm and knocked them to the side, but they stayed standing. They looked between Tylanys and Isra with a calculating look in their eyes.

Tylanys lunged at the assassin, her dagger gripped tightly, and the two blades clashed.

Time seemed to slow as the assassin pulled out a blow gun. Isra saw it a second too late. The assassin pushed away Tylanys while bringing the blow gun to their mouth, and a single feathered dart flew out.

Tylanys was too slow and the dart hit her shoulder.

The assassin then threw their blade, and it landed square in Tylanys’ stomach.

There was a scream, and Isra belatedly realized it came from her as she drove her lance at the assassin. The lance pierced their shoulder and pinned them to the wall, a cry of pain escaping them.

Isra fell down next to Tylanys and yanked out the dart, but her face was already pale and the veins in her face were turning black. Blood began to seep from the wound in her stomach, but Isra was hesitant to remove the blade. “Tylanys!” Isra’s hands were shaking as she slipped an arm behind her best friend’s head, propping her up. “Don’t worry, Tylanys, we’ll get you help. You’ll be fine!” She channeled her Divine power into her hands in an attempt to heal Tylanys of the poison.

Tylanys coughed as the black veins that were rapidly covering her body seemed to get darker, however the blood from the open wound began to slow. “Isra-” she winced as a spasm shook her body, “Isra, don’t waste your energy.” She reached up and wiped a tear from Isra’s cheek. “This is Black Vein, and rather potent at that.”

“Then we’ll get you to a healer!” Isra began to panic as Tylanys’ skin began to darken as well.

Tylanys shook her head. “My blood is being transformed into something necrotic, Isra. I’m rotting from the inside out. Nothing can fix that.” Another spasm overtook her, leaving her panting. “I’m so sorry.”

Isra hugged Tylanys tightly, sobbing. “No! You can’t leave me, not like this! You promised me! Please!”

Tylanys weakly hugged her back. “You’re strong Isra. And I’ll always be there with you, though you won’t see me.”

Isra continued to sob as Tylanys faded, her grief completely consuming her. Nothing had ever hurt this bad. No teasing, no bullying, no reprimand, nothing hurt this badly. Isra sat there sobbing into Tylanys’ shoulder, her body steadily getting colder.

A pained noise from behind jolted Isra from her grief. Isra slowly lowered Tylanys onto the cold ground and she stood as anger replaced her grief. It was as though freezing hands grasped her shoulders and emptied her of all emotion except for rage.

In one swift motion Isra was in front of the assassin, one hand on their chest and the other on her lance. Her eyes were cold as she stared at the assassin. “Who hired you.”

The assassin stared back with fear, but didn’t say anything.

Without hesitation, Isra twisted the lance.

The assassin cried out in pain. “Okay! Okay! It was Lord Rol! He was tipped off that the girl stole from him!”

Isra didn’t seem to react to the information. “Who tipped him off.”

“I don’t know exactly, I think it was Breth or something!”

Isra knew exactly who he was talking about. Tylanys had told her about someone in the guild that didn’t seem to like her and would make passive aggressive comments about her to the rest of the guild. Isra pulled the lance out of the assassin’s shoulder and they fell to the ground, and in one fluid motion she pierced their chest, killing them.

At that moment it felt as though a thread had been cut. What she had assumed was her connection to the celestial plane seemed to vanish completely and her powers felt weakened.

She didn’t waste any time.

The sound of splintering wood echoed through the building as Isra tore the door off of its hinges.

The members of the thieves guild looked at her in a mix of shock and fear and she strode in, and a few of them unsheathed their weapons. Without looking at them, Isra flicked her wrist and they went flying into the walls, and the others didn’t dare move.

The leader of the guild, Zebrum, approached her cautiously. “And what exactly has brought you here, destroying my home?”

Isra looked down at Zebrum with a cloudy expression. “Where. Is. Brem.”

Zebrum scowled. “That coward hasn’t been here for hours. He was supposed to finish a job, but hasn’t brought back the…the..” Zebrum trailed off as Isra’s expression went dark. Her eyes appeared to fill with ink until they were completely black and her skin began to darken.

Zebrum and the other members of the guild backed up with fear as dark shadows began to seep from Isra. The shadows rose and seemed to take shape of a hooded figure with a white, wicked looking smile, and everything froze.

Then there was screaming as the shadows flew out from Isra and attacked the thieves. Isra could vaguely tell that she was screaming along with them.

And just as soon as it all happened, there was silence. Isra was on her knees panting, tears streaming down her face, and the silence surrounding her seemed to be suffocating as she gasped for air. She stood, unsteady, and rubbed a hand against her temple when she noticed that her skin was a dark gray.

NO.

In a panic Isra left the building full of bodies and there were screams and gasps. Isra saw terror and fear in the eyes of people that were in the alley she exited into, and a few people were running away, tripping over garbage and other people.

Isra hurried down the alley and everyone gave her a wide berth. She kept running, tears falling again as exclamations and screams began to surround her as people scrambled to get out of the way and mothers hid their children. Isra finally reached a stream and she fell to her knees as she caught a glimpse of her reflection.

Instead of the beautiful silver hair with golden feathers and golden eyes, her hair was pitch black, the feathers gone, and her eyes were a solid black. Her white wings were now skeletal and a dark aura surrounded her, betraying her dark powers.

She had Fallen.

Isra curled into herself and sobbed.

“You’ll always stay with me, right Tylanys?”

The half-elf child stopped in her retelling of her father’s latest adventure and stared at Isra. “What?”

Isra hugged her knees to her chest and she picked at the grass. “We promised to be best friends forever, right? That means we’ll always be together, but what if later on you don’t want to?”

Tylanys scooted closer to Isra and hugged her, ignoring the grass stains she was getting on her tights. “I’ll always be your friend, Isra! I promise!”

“I’ll always be with you.”

Isra stood at the gates to Neverwinter. It had taken the rest of her savings, but she made it. A new start. A new life. She absently played with the enchanted crystal around her neck she was able to obtain months ago. Now she was able to be around people again without them being terrified of her.

As she took her first step into the city, Isra acted as though nothing was wrong. No one could see the pain in her heart as she walked away from everything she ever knew and loved. No one could see the image of a simple grave on the top of a hill, brilliantly colored flowers surrounding the stone along with a small bouquet that had appeared to have wilted.

This was the start of a new life, and she was going to make the most of it. First she would become the Neverfere, she would earn the people’s trust, and then she would begin the painful path of forgiveness.

Once Brem was destroyed, of course.

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February 27, 2018

“Alone” and “It’s My Turn”

By solarisgaudium

Well, we have reached the last of what I wrote for my creative writing class. It definitely took a lot longer to reach this point than I had planned, but at least we made it here!

I’ve also decided on what I would like to add onto here next. Lately I’ve had the fantastic opportunity to be a part of multiple DnD campaigns, which resulted in a LOT of new characters. I am in love with the characters I play, and I have put so much into their back stories that I’m wanting to write major points in their lives. In fact, I’m almost finished with one of them! So I would like to share them here.

Until then, please enjoy Alone and It’s My Turn. Alone is another poem that I wrote in a spur of the moment, while It’s My Turn was something I had wanted to attempt to write for a while. Both turned out really well with my class, and I would love to hear any feedback from these as well at the pieces I’ve already shared. Enjoy!

Alone

I walk this lonely road

with tear stained cheeks,

ruffled clothes,

and mud stained feet.

 

The rain pours on my head

masking my tears,

my sorrow,

most of my pain.

 

No one is here with me,

I’m all alone

with my hurt,

with my heartache.

 

I shiver from the cold,

or maybe more.

From something,

a bit unknown.

 

But then I remember

your bright white smile,

your sweet laugh,

your kind nature

 

And suddenly,

I’m not so alone anymore.

It’s My Turn

I opened my eyes and saw nothing at first. There was no obvious light source, but there had to be something because I could see a little bit of my surroundings. And by that I meant that there was a white fog covering the ground, obscuring my view of anything below my mid calf, and the walls were completely void of anything. There was no furniture, no windows, not even a door.

The memory of how I got here was fuzzy at best. I remembered getting ready for school, tripping over cats as I put on clothes and shoes, and trying to figure out where my keys ran off to this time, but after that there was nothing. Just this place.

“What are you doing here?”

The voice behind me had me nearly jump out of my skin. I whipped around and saw that a familiar looking little girl stood behind me, her bright green eyes wide in surprise. “Oh! Uh, hi!” I glanced around to see where the heck she came from. “I seem to have gotten a little bit lost. Do you know the way out of here?”

The little girl shook her head, her brown ponytails bouncing, “I haven’t left in a long time, so I don’t remember.”

I looked at her with confusion, “…I see. Where’s your mom?”

She shrugged, “Not here. It’s always been just me, ‘cause no one else comes here. ‘cept you.”

Her face and the way she spoke were so familiar to me, but I just could not place them at all. “Just you, huh? Sounds lonely. What’s your name?”

The little girl stared at me without batting an eye. “Jasmine, but most people call me Jazz.”

I froze. It was as though the floodgates opened and the images of old photos flooded my mind. I was looking at me! Younger me! From the looks of it she seemed to be 10 or 11, maybe younger. Definitely before I chopped off all of my hair for the first time. She didn’t have that awkward semi-Afro bob, but beautifully wavy hair that reached her waist, even in the ponytails. In shock I looked around again, but I still didn’t recognize where ever it was we were. “Where are we?”

If she notice my shock she didn’t mention it. “We’re in the Control Room. This is where-” A loud blaring noise interrupted her and red lights began to flash. I jumped at the sound of the walls moving, revealing massive computer screens with warnings blinking on them.

Younger Me immediately took a step back and a large console rose up from the ground, swiftly separating us. The little girl began to push various buttons until the screens changed to show what looked like one of my classrooms. The desks were rearranged into groups, and the camera was facing a group of three people, two girls and a guy.

“Wait is that-?” I peered closer at the screen and recognized one of the students. This was my Psychology class! The girl was someone who always sat next to me, but we never spoke to each other.

The alarms were still blaring, which was beginning to give me a headache. Younger Me pressed more buttons and the alarms were silenced, but the lights still flashed, which gave the room an ominous feel to it.

“Situation?” Younger Me asked, and a stream of words filtered onto the screen:

Group Assignment: Plan out project

Status: No input given

Current analysis of group: Male is uncaring/cold

Female 1 has tight schedule – Might not be able to rely on her

Female 2 seems nice

Now that the alarms were off I could hear what was happening on screen. The group was throwing out ideas for the project, the two ladies talking with the young man just sat there staring at his desk looking extremely bored.

I looked at Younger Me and saw that she was frowning and- were her hands shaking? She hesitated before pushing a button on the console. My voice rang out from behind the camera, “What about emotions?”

One of the ladies was writing things down and added that to the list, but did that guy just roll his eyes?

Younger Me must have thought so because I heard her moan in dismay. The alarms came back on in full force and words flashed across the screen in bold letters: ABORT INTERACTION! HATRED SENSED!

Wait, hatred? I saw annoyance from a trouble group mate, but not hatred. I looked back at Younger Me, who was frantically pushing buttons. The camera seemed to slouch back and look slightly downward, and a bar in the lower right corner labeled ANXIETY began to rapidly rise.

“Activate Masking!” Younger Me called out, sounding very scared and on the verge of tears. The screen flashed and a nineties style computer animation played over the scene, a pixilated mask covering the camera. The Anxiety levels seemed to stop increasing and I heard my voice again, “I’m okay with whatever you guys wanna do.”

Before anyone could answer, the screens went dark and slid back into the walls, hiding from view once again. The lights stopped flashing, the alarms were silenced, and the console sank back into the floor.

Younger Me sighed with relief and sank to the floor, tears shining in her eyes. My protectiveness nature kicked in and I immediately went over to her and sat down on the floor, one arm on her shoulder and she swallowed back her emotions. “What was that all about?” I asked gently.

Younger Me fought back her tears before answering in a watery voice, “I protected myself. I was gonna get hurt. That’s what I do here, keep me from getting hurt.”

“Hurt from what?”

She looked up at me, “From being left again. I don’t want to be left again by my friends again.”

I stopped and bit my lower lip. I knew exactly what she was talking about and I had to keep myself from crying too. I remember all too vividly of my so called ‘friends’ abandoning me, saying that they didn’t want to be friends but not telling me why to my face. Mom was the one who had to tell me, because she lost their mom as a friend too. They said it was my fault, that I was the one who ruined the friendship, but never an explanation as to why. They never spoke to us again, and I was left wondering for years as to why.

It was that thought that made me realize what was going on. I rubbed Younger Me’s back and said quietly, “You don’t know why Emily and Katie left you, so you’re trying to make sure it never happens again, huh?”

She nodded miserably, the tears she had been fighting so hard finally streaming down her face. “I don’t like being alone. So I make sure that everyone likes me, no matter what. I do whatever I have to to make them happy and not leave me.”

I sighed softly, trying to figure out what to say. A thought came to me, a conversation I had had with someone I trusted, and I knew what I was doing there. I moved so that I was kneeling in front of Younger Me, my hands on her shoulders. “Jasmine, thank you for what you’ve done for me. You’ve kept me safe for a long time, and I know it wasn’t easy, but it’s my turn now.”

Younger me looked up in surprise. “What?”

“It’s my turn now. You can let go and rest, you deserve it. Let me take over from here.”

She looked over to where the console disappeared. “But what if I get hurt again?”

I shook my head, “Let me worry about that. I will make sure that we’re okay.”

She stared at me for what seemed like an eternity before smiling a soft smile. She wrapped her arms around me and hugged tightly, and in the blink of an eye, she was gone.

I stood up and sighed, surveying my new workplace. I had a lot of rewiring and reprogramming to do, which was going to take some time, but in the end it would be worth it. It was time for Adult Me to take over.

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December 7, 2017

The Boy and the Mountain and I Was Five

By solarisgaudium

Hello everyone and happy holidays! Can you believe that it’s already the end of 2017? This has been a rough year for many people, including me, but one thing I love about December is that we can end a rough year with service, love, and friends/family, no matter what holiday you celebrate.

I’m definitely going to have a lot of changes for next year one of which will be focusing a bit more on my writing. I will have a new job that will be part time, which will allow me to have more time to myself that I really need.

I still have a few more stories that I had written for my creative writing class, and this post will have TWO instead of the usual ONE! I experimented a lot with these two, mainly because they are my first ever fable/legend and first ever poem.

I have always wanted to write a legend, so The Boy and the Mountain was created! My first draft was pretty rough, and a lot of my classmates didn’t recognize it as a legend so hopefully I have improved it.

There was once a village that sat at the base of a mountain. All of the buildings were built with the same stone, which made it seem as though the village had grown from the mountain itself like a living thing. Some of the elders claimed that this was so; that the goddess Cierra who ruled the mountain created the village and its people many years ago.
One day, a boy was born to the strongest warrior and fiercest huntress. They taught the boy their skills as he grew, which made him the most valued member of the community; second to the village leader of course. Unfortunately, his status and skills made him vain and conceited. He would only help others in the village if he knew there was some sort of reward in it for him, and would always do it in full view of everyone else.
As per tradition, when the boy turned 18 he prepared to take a journey up the mountain in order to be considered a man. Each boy and girl made this sacred journey in order to overcome their weaknesses and receive a special gift from the goddess. However, the boy boasted that he had no weaknesses and would return triumphant. Within days his mother packed for him her finest kills, his father gave him his sharpest knife, and he started up the mountain to begin his trial.
The boy climbed the mountain with little difficulty, coming across a few wild animals on his path. First, there was a bear that threatened to rip the boy to shreds with its giant claws. The boy used his father’s knife and his mother’s skills to fell the bear with ease, laughing triumphantly over its still form. Later, the boy came across a doe with an injured leg that had a small fawn curled up next to it. Without any hesitation, the boy walked past, thinking that he had plenty of meat from his mother’s kills.
Near his journey’s end, an old woman sat in the middle of the boy’s path. Her clothes were ragged and torn, and her hair was caked with dirt. She looked up at the boy with blind eyes and asked “dear child, would you please spare a bit to eat so that I may continue to the top of the mountain? I got lost on the way and did not bring enough to eat.”
The boy looked at the woman with disgust and scoffed “It’s your own fault that you got lost. I will not share my food with you, or else I will not have enough to return home.” Despite the woman’s pleas, the boy continued upwards until the woman’s cries faded.
The boy reached the top and saw that is was flat stone without any plant or animal life to be seen. In the center of this barren landscape was a pillar of stone, covered with elegant symbols and runes carved into it. The boy approached the pillar and knelt before it, offering his thanks out loud to the goddess for protecting him, but inwardly claiming all of his success for himself.
The wind instantly picked up and swirled around the boy, nearly knocking him over from the force of it. He looked up and saw the most beautiful maiden he had ever seen standing atop the pillar, slate gray robes and marbled white hair billowing in the wind. Her gray eyes stared down at him coldly and she held out a hand over him, saying “Child of stone, you dishonor me and your people with the vain things in your heart. You did not acknowledge the strength I provided for the bear, you did not save the doe, and you scorned the begging woman.” The goddess Cierra transformed into the bear, the doe and the woman as she spoke. “In order to become a man, you must learn to be charitable towards this land and its people, not just your own strength, for such a thing is fleeting.” With these words she took the strength and skill from the boy, leaving him weak and barely able to stand.
With much difficulty and shame the boy climbed back down the mountain. The food his mother provided him had turned to dust, his father’s knife grew dull, and no animal nor human came to assist him. The boy returned to the village a broken man, barely able to lift a bow or sword and unable to regain his strength no matter how hard he tried, and he lived the rest of his days relying on the help of others.

Here is my poem I was Five. I honestly struggled with this one because it was the first time I had to tell a story with minimal words and descriptions. I’m very happy with how it turned out, and I only had to fix a couple of words. Enjoy!

I was five when we first met

On an old and cracked sidewalk

Clothed in yellow and white

We went and saved the world

 

I was eight when you were drawn

In pencil on a white page

Wearing skates, mask, and cape

You lived high in the sky

 

I was fourteen when I left

To become more like my age

I had no need for you

You belonged in my past

 

I was gone for many years

Gave you no more than a glance

Kept you in my childhood

Rarely looking back

 

I was nineteen when I returned

Dusting you off from my neglect

I gave you a new name

But kept most things the same

 

I am twenty three this year

And you have always been with me

So here’s to many years more

Of us now saving the world

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October 5, 2017

Battle to the Death!

By solarisgaudium

SO you know how in my last post I said I could do whatever I wanted after I get home from work? Apparently the only thing I’ve been wanting to do is sleep! I’m still getting used to my new job; it’s a lot harder than I though it would be and a lot more mentally exhausting. However! I am surviving!

So, I have about four of five short stories from my class left to upload! This one is one of my favorite memories and I was very happy with the reactions I got from my class about it. I hope you enjoy Battle to the Death!

The dull sound of distant gunfire filled my ears as I crawled across the ground. If I had been standing, the grass would have reached my knees. However, I was currently on my hands and knees so the grass poked at my arms, hands, and face as I moved, threatening to stab my eyes out if I wasn’t paying attention. I was in the middle of a field with few trees which offered very little protection, which made my anxiety spike.

My heart was pounding so loud that I feared others could hear it over the gunfire. I was terrified. This was my last chance to get this right, to win this battle once and for all. All we had to do was reach the center.

A loud snap sounded behind me and I jumped, spinning around and pointing my gun, but I stopped myself just in time from firing. I sighed in frustration, trying to calm my racing heart. “Your footsteps are too loud! I thought you were someone else!”

My partner, a woman with a pink asymmetrical hair cut, shot me a sheepish smile. “Sorry,” she said, “I can’t help it!”

I opened my mouth to argue, but a loud engine cut me off. With a scream both of us hit the ground, laying as flat as we possibly could. A jeep sped by us and screeched to a halt a few feet away, four soldiers jumping out.

My heart sank. Crap! They saw us! We’re doomed! I could hear my partner’s ragged breathing behind me, she must have been thinking the same thing. I readied my pistol: if I was going down, I was taking someone with me.

The soldiers ran around the jeep, but instead of heading towards us they ran for a small cluster of buildings in the opposite direction while I watched, jaw open.

“How did they not see us?!” My partner exclaimed. “They literally drove past us! How?!”

I darted my eyes between the jeep and the group. It was risky. We should leave now, while we have the chance. We should- “I’m going for it!” I said my favorite catch phrase and began to army crawl towards the jeep, keeping an eye out for the person that had to have been keeping guard.

I heard my partner crawl behind me. “This is stupid! We’re going to get killed!”

“I know, I know,” I told her, “but I can’t pass this up!” I continued to crawl at an agonizingly slow pace, the sharp grass cutting into my arms and my legs through my combat pants. As soon as I was a few yards away, I continued to be reckless and got up, running the rest of the way to the jeep. “There’s no one here! Get in, get in!” I shouted, leaping into the driver’s seat. I had never driven one of these before, but it shouldn’t be too hard, right?

My partner jumped into the passenger seat and I sped off, waiting for bullets to start flying by, but none came. “We stole a jeep!” I shouted triumphantly, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. “WE STOLE A FRICKEN JEEP!”

“I know! How did that work??” My partner shouted back, leaning out the window with her shotgun ready.

“I don’t know!” I laughed as we sped over the hills and between the trees. We were making great time getting to our destination and I was thrilled. We finally had a fighting chance!

I drove over a large rock, sending us flying into the air. I heard my partner scream in terror, but I didn’t care. I was excited, thrilled, hopeful! We were finally going to make it.

Then I hit a tree. I felt my whole body jerk forward from the sudden stop and heard the crunch of metal against wood. Maybe driving was a bit harder than I thought.

“DON’T HIT THE TREE!” My partner screamed over the sound of metal crunching. “You’re lucky we didn’t blow up!”

“Don’t worry, we’re fine!” I immediately began to reverse, grateful that the vehicle still moved. “I’m just getting used to this thing, that’s all!”

We continued to drive (albeit a little recklessly) and sped towards our destination; the center of the large island we fought on. I drove us through small towns and past farms, my partner yelling at me the whole time about how we shouldn’t attract so much attention to ourselves. I didn’t care, I felt too invincible!

Then I hit a house. I was starting to think driving wasn’t my strong suit.

A bullet hit me in the shoulder and peppered the side of the jeep. We were under attack! I pulled out my pistol and began firing at the man that had come out from inside the building, but due to my odd position I had poor aim.

“We’re getting surrounded!” My partner yelled. I looked back and saw two more people come out from the other side of the house. Three against one. We’re dead.

I tried to exit the jeep so that I could look for cover, but something went very wrong and I ended up underneath it instead. “CRAP I’M STUCK UNDER THE JEEP!”

“HOW’D YOU PULL THAT OFF?”

“I DON’T KNOW!” I frantically wriggled, trying to free myself from my horrific prison, when suddenly everything went black.

GAME OVER!

I leaned back in my chair and threw up my hands, startling the sleeping cat in my lap. “Gosh dang it!”

I could hear my friend groan through my headphones. “We were so close! There were only 28 people left!”

I looked at the stats on my screen. No kills, that’s not a surprise. “Hey, at least we made it to 18th place this time! Better than the last round!”

My friend laughed, “Yeah, true. Well, I’d better go. I have work in the morning and my bladder is very mad at me.”

“Aw, dang it!” I lamented. “Come one, just one more round? We can definitely do it this time!”

“Jasmine, I have to go to the bathroom!”

I sighed, “alright fine! Maybe we can play tomorrow?”

“We can sure try!”

“Alright then. Good night!” I told her as I closed the game.

“Night!” The call ended with a familiar chime and I pulled off my headphones, rubbing my face. Sleep was going to be hard to find after that adrenaline rush.

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August 21, 2017

“Take My Place”

By solarisgaudium

Long time no see! A lot has been happening lately and I have had so little time to write. It’s been terrible honestly. Good news is I have a new job that is very steady in schedules. Bad news, it’s full time so my free time has been greatly diminished. However! Unlike school, once I leave work I’m done for the day and can just do whatever I want when I get home 🙂

Anyways, here’s my next piece from my creative writing class. I was inspired by this one when I adopted my cat Anya. I had a dog since I was four and had to put him down a few years ago(if I remember correctly I made a post about him). What was really interesting was Anya really didn’t like me the first week or so. She would throw a fit every time I picked her up! Then one morning she was super lovey and cuddly, and I like to think that some version of this story occurred the night before.

Well, enjoy!

Take My Place

I had been a loyal friend and follower my entire life. So much so, I never wanted to leave my post. I was by her side every waking moment, no matter how much my body howled for rest. I was going to stay with her forever, no matter what.

We would go outside together and play games, usually with me chasing her around the tiny yard, pretending that we were secret agents on missions to save the world, or whatever else she wanted to play that day. No matter what we did, I made sure to stay close to her and keep her safe from any harm that could fall upon her.

I still remember vividly the day I left. My body was so old, so frail, that it didn’t take long for the drug to take effect. I slipped from that world into this one almost instantly, one where I was young again and could run free! Not only that, but I was always surrounded by my second favorite thing in the whole wide world: tennis balls. I could play with those to my heart’s content, day in and day out!

It was while I was playing with a ball that could throw itself that I was approached by a man in pure white robes. He was from her family, but I never met him in my previous life. He was actually the one who welcomed me here and showed me everything. “Josey, my good boy, I have a special task for you. Your final part of your mission.”

The ball was completely forgotten. There was a final part? I thought I was done! What could I possibly do now?

The man laughed, “Don’t worry, it won’t take you long. You will get to see your precious girl again, one last time.”

My tail wagged furiously. My Girl! I can finally see her again! I felt so sad when I left her in tears, her heart breaking at my leaving. The thought of being able to do one more thing for her filled my heart to bursting!

The man led me to one of the many viewing pools that littered the ground, many of which were being used by others who lived here, both human and animal.

I had used these pools so many times when I first got here, watching my Girl’s every move throughout the day. I would lay there for hours, never moving. I didn’t need to eat or sleep anymore, so it wasn’t too difficult. I hated myself at first for leaving, even though I didn’t have a choice in the matter, because I thought that I had failed. My Girl was so sad, so heartbroken, and I couldn’t do anything about it. The man had come and helped me be able to move on, but it wasn’t until I felt that she really would be okay that I began to relax and enjoy myself here.

The man pointed at the pool, “Look there my friend! There is your final task.”

The cloudy water began to clear, showing my Girl sitting in a tiny house. She was on her ‘laptop’, or at least that’s what the man called it. I wagged my tail and panted, despite my not needing to breathe. It was my Girl!

The man knelt down next to me, his face beaming, “Yes, that’s her alright! It’s almost time for her to sleep for the night, and when she does, I want you to go down there and talk to a certain someone.”

I looked up at him in confusion. I couldn’t interact with my Girl anymore, that was the first thing I was told when I got here! She can’t see me, let alone touch me, how am I supposed to-

That was when I saw it. A tiny, gray furball barely walking on its four stumpy legs. On closer inspection I saw that one of it’s eyes seemed deformed, the pupil not narrowing completely halfway up. It cried out pitifully, causing my Girl to get up and go to it. She picked it up, much to its offense, and tried to snuggle with it, ignoring the claws and protests the kitten mewled out.

I barked twice in both surprise and slight annoyance. What was my Girl doing with a cat?

The man laughed, “I know, quite a shock, isn’t it?” He placed a gentle hand on my back as we watched my Girl and the kitten go to bed, much to the kitten’s annoyance. “That little one is the first pet she got since you left. She almost didn’t get it at first, if it wasn’t for the prodding of her friends.”

Was I hearing this right? I’ve been replaced?

As though he could read my mind (which wouldn’t be a surprise at this point), the man said “Of course nothing could replace you and the years of service you gave, but that little one is giving our sweet girl a chance to be happy again. Your mission is to go and inform that kitten of the importance her role is.”

I jumped onto the man and licked his face enthusiactically. I would do anything in order for my Girl to be happy again, even if it meant talking with a cat. Readying myself first, I leapt into the pool, it’s swirling water washing over me as I gracefully swam through it towards my Girl. It was a strange feeling. I was never good at swimming because I would always accidentally inhale the water, but this wasn’t really water. It felt more like a thick smoke that pushed me onwards towards my destination.

In the blink of an eye I was there, standing in the tiny house my Girl was living in. The lights were all off, the full moon outside the only source of light coming through the windows. I padded softly to the bedroom, jumping up the single stair with ease. I could barely see my Girl underneath all of her blankets; only her brown hair could be seen. I ached to be able to curl up next to her again, providing warmth like I always did. She always did have trouble with staying warm. I shook my head to clear it, my task had to take top priority.

The kitten was curled up at the foot of the bed, sleeping as far away from my Girl as it possibly could, which made my fur bristle. Can’t it see that she’s cold? It’s an honor to be able to sleep in the same bed and this little furball is squandering it!

With a huff, I prodded at the kitten, my ghostly paw fazing right through it. Apparently, that was all it took because the kitten shot straight up, looking around for the source of its disturbance. “What was that?!” it squeaked. When it’s misshapen eyes landed on me they widened with terror. “What are you?!”

I huffed again. Laying down on the bed I got closer to its eye level. “Obviously I’m a dog, Josey. What are you called?”

The kitten eyed me warily, “…I don’t know. The giant calls me things, but I can’t understand them. Why do you look funny?” It froze. “Are you dead?!”

The cat was smarter than it looked. “Listen cat, I have something important to tell you, so listen closely because I can’t stay long.”

The kitten slowly sat down, its fur still bristling, “What would a ghost dog want to tell me?”

I looked over at my Girl. She hadn’t moved since I got here, which was somewhat unusual compared to how much she would move around throughout the night. In a quite tone I started, “I used to be her companion. I was her protector for years, but I had to go. My body couldn’t last any longer.”

Glancing back at the kitten, I saw it was also watching my Girl. “…Is that why she was sad?”

I was surprised. I didn’t know cats could sense human emotions, let alone a kitten as small as this. “What?”

“She was sad when she got me. She smiled, but I could tell that something about me made her sad. That’s why I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to make her sad.”

This definitely was as strange cat. “I don’t think you make her sad. She has been alone since I left, so maybe she is still lonely.”

The kitten perked up at that, “Really? Then…it’s not my fault?”

I looked over at my Girl again. She shifted in her sleep, throwing her arm over her head as though batting away something. Perhaps she could hear us in her sleep? “Yes,” I said gently, “I think you make her happy.” It was then that I realized what it was I was supposed to tell this small creature. It weighed heavy in my heart, but I knew it was the truth. I looked down at the kitten, who seemed to be no longer scared. In fact, it seemed happier. “Cat, I can’t protect her anymore, so now it’s your turn. You must take my place and give her the help and love that she needs, so that she can be happy. Will you be her new protector and love her like I did?”

The kitten nodded gravely, standing up now with what seemed to be pride, “I promise! I will love her for you, don’t you worry! I will make sure she’s happy for ever and ever!” It stopped and looked confused. “How do I do that?”

It was quiet as I thought about this. The cat was very small, no bigger than my snout. The only thing it seemed to have going for it was the needle sharp claws that all cats had, so that was something at least. “Just be there for her for now. As you get stronger you’ll be able to help more.”

The kitten nodded, “Got it! I’ll do what I can!”

I grinned a large doggy grin. For the first time since I left, I felt a weight lift off of my shoulders as the responsibility I had borne for my whole life transferred over to this tiny little kitten. My Girl would be just fine now, that much I knew.

There was a pull at my collar, as though a leash was tugging me back. My time was finished here. I stood up and tried to pat the kitten’s head, hoping that it understood my gesture. “Good luck, cat. Thank you.” With those parting words I leapt upwards towards the heavens, looking back down to see that the kitten had curled up next to my precious Girl.

Anya
Josey

Because I treat my pets as though they are my children, LOOK HOW PRECIOUS THEY ARE!

Thanks for reading 🙂

 

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July 12, 2017

Finals Week and “A Familiar Place”

By solarisgaudium

School sure does love getting in the way of things, doesn’t it? Well, finals week is finally here and things are finally starting to slow down with the end of classes, so I am able to post my next short story!

This one is one of my personal favorites and I’m super excited to share it with you! I wrote it while in the middle of a pretty low depression episode, so it’s a bit dark. Literally. My dad, who also suffers from depression, told me that this piece finally put a description to what he feels and said I did a great job! I love it when I’m praised by my parents, even if I’m in my 20s.

So here it is, I hope you all enjoy it!

A Familiar Place

Sometimes, the most familiar place is the one that only you can visit. A place only you are familiar with because only you go there. Everyone has their own versions of course, but you cannot know them because you cannot visit them. Just like they can’t come to mine. What is this place? It is the mind.

Darkness fills my mind, my castle. The once bright colors are now muted to a grey and black hue on everything that lines the walls and clutters the floor. The doors are closed, vainly trying to protect their precious contents, their precious memories. Some of them have already been breached. The darkness corrupted them and stole their color, their light, their life. The memories became so twisted that they could no longer be recognizable. Like that one, it used to be a happy time where I was first in school after so long. I was so excited. A young, naive teenager. Now look, all you can see is the one, tiny mishap that evolved into years of torment. It’s still going strong, its power influencing all of the memories around it. That one? I was so pure, so innocent. Just a simple question, a simple curiosity. Now it is consuming, engulfing, and dangerous. It feeds the darkness, allowing it to grow in strides and bursts. These are just a couple of so many examples. So much darkness. So much corruption.

If we go deeper, the darkness seems to grow, thicken, and suffocate. Tread carefully – one false step and you could become lost. I have many times, and I learned it is very hard to get back out. The windows don’t help. Their curtains block out all light, all scenery. I can never use them for direction or fresh air. I’ve tried many times to open them, but the darkness keeps them shut tight.

The darkness loves to throw things into the hallways, making me trip and stumble with every step. These items have meaning; most of them are from those corrupted rooms. They remind me of every mistake I have made, every flaw, every crack. Most of them started so small, almost unnoticeable, but the darkness twisted and enlarged them into monstrous shapes that torment me endlessly. We must walk slowly if we want to make it through unscathed.

Now, it is so dark here that not a single prick of light can be seen. Don’t bother waving your hand in front of your face, it’s no use. You won’t see anything. Can you feel the darkness surrounding you like a cloak? I always feel it nestle itself all over my body, weighing me down. It fills my mouth and throat, making it difficult to breathe. It clamps my arms to my sides, making it difficult to move. It brushes against my face, causing me to shut my eyes tight and shrink away. But I cannot shrink away. It’s all around me, all around you. There is just one vital difference…

You can leave.

I invited you here, but you do not have to stay. You can leave this place, this strange, cold, unfeeling place. But I cannot. The darkness consumes me, controls me in so many ways, and no matter how hard I want, dream, wish, I cannot leave. I am forever trapped here. Trapped with this darkness that I am so familiar with. I suggest you leave while you still can; follow our footprints. Don’t touch anything, don’t interact, don’t acknowledge. I would hate for you to take this darkness back home with you, allowing it to corrupt your familiar place.

The most familiar place we can have is our mind, our consciousness. No one can ever see it, nor physically visit. We can only hope to describe it to curious others, and even then, we can only scratch the surface. Just like the glimpse I gave you. The small, tiny piece of a much larger maze of rooms and hallways.

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May 25, 2017

Creative Writing Class: Father’s Day

By solarisgaudium

Hello all! Life has been pretty hectic lately, so I haven’t been able to post here much. However! I have had the fantastic opportunity to take a creative writing class!! I’ve been having so much fun with this class, learning so many new things. One of the requirements for this class is to write a short story or a poem to show what we’re learning, and then have it critiqued by classmates. I’ve had so much fun writing these things that I have decided to post them here!

I will post my revised stories/poems here, one at a time so as not to overwhelm readers. My first one is a Non-Fiction piece about my Father’s Day trip, which I know I’ve mentioned before, but this time it’s more in detail about what happened during that trip! I hope you enjoy and I always appreciate any feedback you can give me! Thanks!

Father’s Day

“What in the world were you thinking, you idiot?! Oh wait! You weren’t!”

I kicked the side of the car, but not too hard since it wasn’t mine. That was probably a small reason why I was stuck on the side of the biggest highway I’ve ever been on in my entire life with not one drop of gas in the tank of my borrowed car.

“What the heck am I supposed to do now?!” I asked the speeding cars, but they payed no heed. As I pulled my cellphone out of my pocket I glared at the exit literally 20 feet away from me, the gas sign mocking me at how close I had gotten to a pit stop.

Luckily I had my mom on speed dial. As soon as she answered I fought back tears as I explained my situation: stuck on the side of the road with no gas and still at least three hours to drive. This seemed to be a recurring pattern for me. Every time I tried to go on a trip completely on my own, something catastrophic happens.

Just as my mom was giving me instructions, a truck parked behind me and a gentleman about ten years older than me hopped out. I kept my mom on the line, just in case, and waited for him to come to me. “Is everything alright?” he asked over the din of cars.

I hung my head in shame, “no, not really! I ran out of gas.”

I expected him to laugh at me. It was no less than what I deserved, and I wasn’t done beating myself up over it. Instead, he nodded and told me to wait for a sec while he returned to his truck. After digging around the back he came back with my rescue: a gas can. “I’m with the state roadside assistance, we’re prepared for pretty much anything. If you want I can give you about three gallons of gas or so until you can make it off of that exit over there and fill up.”

I told myself I wasn’t going to cry, but it was very difficult to keep that commitment without talking. With a cracking voice I asked how much I would owe him, already trying to calculate how much three gallons would cost.

“It’s completely free, the state covers the expenses.”

Yup, there are the tears. I thanked him profusely and told mom what was happening, who then wanted me to thank him for her as well. The man gave me a survey card for me to fill out, told me his name, and stayed on the side of the road until my car started and I was on the road again.

I made it to the gas station and sat at the pump, trying to get control over my emotions again. My eye caught the envelope on the seat next to me, it’s pale blue paper contrasting against the dark gray leather, and the stark black lines reading “DAD”. I remembered the whole reason I was on this trip, and that helped me get back into gear. My trip wasn’t over quite yet, but hopefully this was going to be the extent of my problems.

I reached Pennsylvania without further incident and I was looking the apartment complex my dad was living in. I quickly became confused, Google maps was confused, and I was strongly reminded that my sense of direction was very lacking. I slowly circled the three different buildings looking for C, my phone already pressed to my ear listen to mom trying to help.

“I can see which building you need from the pictures Dad sent me, but I just can’t figure out where it is in regards to where you are,” Mom told me, sounding a bit exasperated. “It really shouldn’t this hard!”

I laughed, “yeah, well, this is me we’re talking about, remember?” As I turned the same corner for about the fifth time already, I groaned out loud and hung my head. “I found it… I’ve been driving past it this entire time. The letter is missing from the wall.”

I heard my mom sigh in relief, “Oh good! At least you found it!”

“Yeah, good point. I do feel a little silly though. I’ll talk to you later, love you!”

I said good bye to mom and quickly pulled into a parking spot, praying that there wasn’t a guest parking I had to worry about, and exited the car with my package.

The red brick building towered above me, at least two stories high, with fenced balconies made of painted metal. I stepped up to the door that had a panel of buzzers for each apartment, some of the labels so faded that I couldn’t read them. I quickly found dad’s apartment number and pushed the button, anxiety trying to bubble it’s way up while I waited. What of this still wasn’t the right building? Or maybe I rang the wrong buzzer and I disturbed some other resident?

The door still didn’t open, which brought on a whole slew of worries. Did I ring an empty apartment? Was dad not home? Was he okay?? I took a deep breath to try and calm myself. If I kept going I would come up with the worst possible situations and work myself up over what was most likely nothing.

“Are you trying to get in?” I looked up with a start at an old man who was standing on his balcony looking down at me.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, I’m here to visit Jay, is this the right apartment?”

The man nodded, “Yes! Here, I’ll let you in, just give me a moment.” I thanked him as he shuffled back into the building, and a short moment later the front door buzzed, letting me know that I could now enter.

As soon as I stepped in my nose was assaulted by the strong cigarette smell that all old apartments seemed to have. I ignored it however and found the door to dad’s room and knocked.

“…Hello??” a deep voice called out, sounding very confused.

“Hey Daddy!” I called back.

“Jasmine?!” I laughed to myself at the image I had of Dad’s surprised look, “Hold on!” I heard various noises as he worked his way to the front door, still grinning to myself.

The door opened and dad stood there, his frizzled fu manchu mustache the only hair on his head and pure shock on his face. “Jasmine! What are you doing here? Come in!”

I stepped into his apartment, absently noting the messy state of the floor, and hugged him tightly. “Happy Father’s Day daddy!”

He hugged be back tightly, “Oh, thank you honey! This is definitely a surprise! I wasn’t expecting you to come all the way down here.”

I looked up at him, “Well, I figured that since it had been a few years since I got to spend Father’s Day with you in person and I was only a few hours away this time I would come say hi.” I handed him the card and wrapped gift, “So here I am!”

Dad took the gifts and put them on his cluttered desk, repeatedly muttering “wow.” I knew I would surprise him, but not quite to this extent. “I was wondering who was ringing my doorbell! I never get visitors so I thought someone just rung the wrong one.”

I shook my head, “Nope, that was me. An old man living above you let me in.”

He grinned at that, “Ah, that would explain it. He’s really nice, isn’t he? I couldn’t ask for a better neighbor.” He looked around, muttering “let me find you somewhere to sit” and pulled up a folding chair. “Here you are. Wow, I can’t believe this! My daughter on Father’s Day, that is the best gift anyone could ask for!”

I just smiled. Being stranded on the side of the road, getting lost, every trial and stumbling block I had to deal was more than worth it to see the joy in my father’s face. It was the least I could do to thank him for the hard work he was doing in order to provide for his family.

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January 13, 2017

Wait, a Post About Writing?! For Real?!

By solarisgaudium

Yes! I’m actually posting about writing! It’s been, what, months? Goodness time flies. So, just what is this post going to be about? I’m glad you asked.

A couple of months ago I was introduced to a very fascinating (and slightly addicting) app call Destiny’s Handbook.

destinys-handbook

If you’ve already heard of it, then props to you! I absolutely love this app because it generates random characters with various traits, like race, personality, weapon of choice, even a companion!

After making a few characters, I came across a few that I would love to actually write about, so I decided that a great way for me to improve my writing is tp come up with short stories about these characters.

So, here is the first one that I finished! It’s a little on the dark side, so be warned. There will be death. I will post the story, and then add the prompt at the end. Please let me know what you think and what I can improve on. The entire purpose of this is to practice writing, so I want to know what I need to work on!

Thank you so much!

The night air was cold against his face, a stark contrast to the warmth he had previously felt. But this was his choice, this was what he wanted. So what if the light and warmth is gone? This darkness and cold was his only friend now.

Well, almost only. As if summoned, a large snake wound it’s way around his legs, it’s cape-like skin flaring around it’s head.

He smiled and placed a hand on the giant naja’s head, a very loyal companion that never left his side. “Are you ready to finish what we started, Saphira?” He asked.

The snake nodded and slithered down the hillside, entering a dark, silent crypt. He followed, slinging his pitch black shotgun over his shoulder. Finally, he would fulfill his task.

The crypt was empty save for a few sealed coffins, their residents having long ago left this world to move on to the next. He ignored these and approached a large statue of an angel that stood in the back, her wings spread out protectively over the dearly departed. He used to do the same thing, but that was a long time ago.

Saphira wound up the statue and draped itself across the wings, weighing them down. The wings seemed to effortlessly slide downward with a loud click and a scraping stone echoed through the crypt. A door opened next to the statue, revealing a set of stairs leading down.

He walked down the stairs, loading his shotgun as he went. It was dark, but he knew this path by heart and didn’t need any light. He heard Saphira slither down the stairs behind him, his footsteps the only other noise in the stairwell.

Soon. Soon, he would get his revenge. They humiliated him, mocked him. They took his wings! He could still feel the holes in his back where his beautiful, white feathered wings used to be. They would pay most dearly for taking his prized possession.

He reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped. It was pitch black down here, not a single speck of light to be seen. The dark used to scare him, but not anymore. He stepped forward until he knew he was in the center of the room.

Almost instantly a deep red glow spread out from his feet, illuminating a circle of runes and symbols surrounding him. The glow filled the room and revealed a large stone tablet resting against the back room, covered in similar runes and symbols.

“So this is where you get your ‘revelations’,” a soft voice called out behind him.

He didn’t bother to turn around, he knew who it was, “This is where I get the truth,” he said in a matter of fact tone.

He could hear them stepping closer. “You know this isn’t truth! If it was, then it wouldn’t have killed hundreds of people!”

He shook with rapidly growing anger, “No one listened to me! They didn’t do what I told them! Otherwise, they would have lived!”

“They did do what you said, that’s the problem! You should have known better than to take counsel in a piece of demonic rock!”

He turned around and glared at the darkened figure standing at the base of the stairs, “You don’t know what I’ve seen! What I’ve learned!”

The figure took a couple of steps forward, allowing the red light to menacingly illuminate her long white dress and golden wings, “You are nothing more than a false prophet. You used your powers and authority to convince people to follow you, ultimately guiding them to their doom.”

He raised his shot gun and aimed it at her heart, his eyes and voice cold, “I did what I believed was right.”

The woman sighed, her eyes full of sorrow, “I know. I just wish that you would listen to reason.”

He cocked the gun, “Reason has no place here.” He fired, a red hot bullet flying at the woman.

The woman flew up into the air to avoid the bullet, her wings scraping the ceiling. She flared her wings and thousands of golden feathers flew towards her foe, the edges now razor sharp.

He instinctively moved his shoulders in order to fly as well, but was painfully reminded of the new handicap. At the last second he rolled out of the way, the feathers slashing his clothing and exposed skin. He stood, black blood dripping from the various cuts on his body.

The woman landed and stared at the blood in horror. “What happened to you?”

He grinned despite the pain, “a small sacrifice for the power I have obtained!” He raised his free hand towards the wall next to him and a loud grating noise fills the room. Rocks and boulders fly free from the wall and aim towards him until he is surrounded by an armor made of rock. He laughed, “You have no hope in touching me now!” He raised his gun, now glowing red like the bullets, and fired off a couple of shots.

Due to her shock, the woman was too slow in dodging the bullets and one of them grazed her arm. Brilliant light shone through the wound as though a door had been opened to the sun. She hissed in pain and covered her arm with her hand, light shining through her fingers.

He made a disgusted noise, “you look like a burning target now. How can you hope to hide from me?”

She narrowed her gaze at him, her face hardening, “I don’t need to hide.” She released her arm and pulled out a glowing bow, light etched into the white wood in swirling patterns. An arrow appeared in her hand and took aim, her eyes never leaving her old friend.

He laughed, “You really think you’ll beat me with that?” He raised his gun again, “you cannot hope to hit me with my defenses.”

She said nothing and drew the arrow back, the brilliantly white string taunt. She heard the gun click, and with a silent apology she released her arrow as the gun fired.

The arrow narrowly whizzed past the fallen angel, and for a split second he grinned as his bullet hit it’s mark, but a loud cracking noise sounded behind him that caused his heart to sink.

Turning around he saw the arrow embedded deep into the stone tablet, light spreading through the cracks. Almost instantly pain exploded throughout his body, burning like fire, and the rock armor fell to the ground. He doubled over in pain, collapsing onto the ground as he felt his body try to tear itself apart.

He heard a slithering sound and felt Saphira curl around him, attempting to comfort her partner, and smiled sadly to himself. Loyal to the bitter end.

Looking up he sees the woman struggling to kneel in front of him, light shining brightly through the gaping hole in her chest. She reached out to him and he shrunk away. “Don’t touch me!” He spat out before gasping in pain. She reached out again and cupped his face in her hands, gently forcing him to look up at her. “I’m so sorry, my friend,” said said softly, pain lacing her voice.

He attempted to glare at her, but pain flashed across his face instead, “I am not your friend!” he spat at her and pulled his head away from her grasp.

She winced as sharp pain seemed to spike through her body, but gave no other indication of her injuries. “You will always be my friend, no matter what you do,” she told him.

He chuckled, which turned into a deep cough, sour, black blood now spilling out of his mouth. He could feel his body shutting down, his lower legs already numb. He didn’t have much longer. “I stopped being your friend a long time ago.”

The woman sighed with a sad smile, “You always were so dramatic,” her tone grew more serious, “why did you do this?”

All feeling in his chest was gone now. Fear crept into his mind; he was actually going to die. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. This was my choice!” he started coughing again, a new wave of blood spraying onto the cobble floor.

The woman clutched at her chest, the light pouring out starting to dim. She jumped at a cold touch on her wrist, but settled when she saw it was Saphira’s tail. She smiled warmly at the naja, the only connection left between the two dying angels.

He watched the exchange, conflicting feelings of betrayal and sorrow flitting across his mind. He pushed the feelings away; the naja would never wish to harm her previous owner, no matter what had transpired between the two angels. He looked at the dying light, now starting to look like a candle flame, “You’re dying. You should go back and heal.”

The woman shook her head, “no, I won’t leave you alone. Not again.”

He laughed, barely noticing the lack of feeling in his arms, “and you saw I’m dramatic.” Coughing overtook him again and darkness edged his vision. This was it. “To be honest, I’m glad it was you who killed me.”

He didn’t hear her sobbing, nor the goodbyes she whispered. He only heard silence as he slipped into the darkness for the final time.

The prompt was

You are a: Heartless Angel

the: Guilty Prophet

Destined to: Pacify your Basement

Your Weapon: Satanic Shotgun

Special Ability: Magnetic Soul

Your Companion: Giant Naja

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