Rated: PG-13
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Why do you search for a promise in the sky
when you can't see beyond your own eyes?
The words on the page don't mean a thing
to the people that preach from it.
The truth is confused by what we believe
and strong faiths are easily deceived.
Take his words and throw them back in his face
as if he didn't know what he wrote.
Take our example and be a fool
and prance around like you're totally cool
while you die inside from anger and hate
and you don't even know why.
Guilt and fear are your closest friends
and lies are going to be your end,
since you can't look past what we
have and haven't told you.
We think that we are right and strong
when we're actually completely wrong
but you can't figure it out because
you're blinded by what you can't see.
So die in a hole and rot in your grave
since you're nothing more than Satan's slave
and you can't free your soul
so you'll die without even trying.
Search for your promise again and again
and never find what you've been given.
Close off your mind and tell yourself
they don't know what they're saying.
Listen to us and we'll open the way
to heartache and pain every single day
since you're too afraid to find
the truth by yourself.
Let your mind rot with filth and dirt
from the lies that feed you nothing but hurt
and keep begging for more
because you refuse to know that you're wrong.
And we'll laugh at your damned disgrace
as you peel the skin from your face
because you picked the wrong side
of the fence after all.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Random One-Shot
He embraced her and she panicked.
It was the kind of embrace that caused the heart to drop into the stomach. It was a determined embrace, a solid frame holding a tired frame. It was the kind of embrace a soldier gives his wife and unborn child just before he leaves. It was the kind of embrace someone gives because they know there’s a chance it will be their last.
But he had made his decision and there was nothing she could do to stop him.
She knew this. When his arms wrapped around her she didn’t respond right away. The tears that streaked her face were not enough to convince him. Neither the shuddering of her shoulders nor her labored breathing could change his mind. He was going to leave. His mind was made up. Her pleas and pathetic sobs into his shoulder were for naught. Her nails desperately digging into the fabric of his jacket left temporary imprints that would disappear as soon as he would.
He stayed silent, fearing that any word that escaped his lips would either weaken his resolve or whisper empty promises to his beloved. So he stayed silent. The combat that raged outside of their room couldn’t compare to the war erupting inside of him. It all came down to a choice. Had he chosen what was right?
He let go. She didn’t. Maybe if she could hold him there just a little bit longer he would change his mind. Maybe he just couldn’t see how much she loved him. Maybe he would never know.
Gently, he lifted her hands off of him and they dropped to her sides, her head bowed toward the ground as more tears fell from her nose and chin, leaving small wet splashes on the floor. He lifted her face and kissed her on the forehead. He offered one last smile before he turned to leave.
This was it. The last time she would ever see him. The last time she would ever be able to touch him or listen to him. The last time they would ever be together. He didn’t care about her. Why else would he have chosen this fate?
He turned back toward her just as he reached the door and their eyes met for a long moment. I love you, they were saying to each other. I love you.
It was the kind of embrace that caused the heart to drop into the stomach. It was a determined embrace, a solid frame holding a tired frame. It was the kind of embrace a soldier gives his wife and unborn child just before he leaves. It was the kind of embrace someone gives because they know there’s a chance it will be their last.
But he had made his decision and there was nothing she could do to stop him.
She knew this. When his arms wrapped around her she didn’t respond right away. The tears that streaked her face were not enough to convince him. Neither the shuddering of her shoulders nor her labored breathing could change his mind. He was going to leave. His mind was made up. Her pleas and pathetic sobs into his shoulder were for naught. Her nails desperately digging into the fabric of his jacket left temporary imprints that would disappear as soon as he would.
He stayed silent, fearing that any word that escaped his lips would either weaken his resolve or whisper empty promises to his beloved. So he stayed silent. The combat that raged outside of their room couldn’t compare to the war erupting inside of him. It all came down to a choice. Had he chosen what was right?
He let go. She didn’t. Maybe if she could hold him there just a little bit longer he would change his mind. Maybe he just couldn’t see how much she loved him. Maybe he would never know.
Gently, he lifted her hands off of him and they dropped to her sides, her head bowed toward the ground as more tears fell from her nose and chin, leaving small wet splashes on the floor. He lifted her face and kissed her on the forehead. He offered one last smile before he turned to leave.
This was it. The last time she would ever see him. The last time she would ever be able to touch him or listen to him. The last time they would ever be together. He didn’t care about her. Why else would he have chosen this fate?
He turned back toward her just as he reached the door and their eyes met for a long moment. I love you, they were saying to each other. I love you.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
.:King of the Jews:.
Last year, I was told about a literature competition at my college. I was told about this the day before the deadline. You could write short stories, poems, or take part in the photography. If you won first prize, you got $100 dollars, your work would be published, you'd get your name engraved on a nice plaque that sits on some random wall of the college and you'll probably never be able to find it again but, hey, it's a nice gesture anyways, and you'd get to read your work in front of an audience.
I went home that night and worked my butt off for about three hours to come up with a short story. I researched and compared Gospel stories. Then, I emailed it to my teacher after much blood, sweat, and tears. Especially the tears. Not joking. This story was hard to write for me.
And I won.
I received the cash prize, got my name stamped on a plaque, read my story in front of colleagues, scholars, and family, and became a published author. So here's what I wrote:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
King of the Jews
It was hot. So hot. The sun seemed to beat down extra hard that day as I toiled away in the fields. My farming equipment wasn't that great either, so the work was even harder. I had had to buy a new hoe the previous day because my last one had broken. The new one I bought wasn't much better, though. After complaining for half of the day about my rotten luck, I sneaked and exchanged the new tool for my son's old, worn-in one. He was younger. He had a stronger body. He could break it in for me this time.
I smiled at my clever trickery and went back to working the soil in the fields. The dirt was hard and crumbly, and it was much easier to plow through now that I had one of my own tools back. I stayed close to the outbuilding that contained our farming equipment, keeping my eye on the new piece of equipment.
Sure enough, my son Alexander walked up. He looked around for his tool and then took the new one in his hand. Settling for the new one, unknowingly falling into my little trap, he hung it over his shoulder and went back to his area of the fields to work.
I chuckled to myself.
As the sun began to rise higher in the sky, the day just seemed to get hotter. I finally couldn't take it anymore. I put my things away and called my boys to me.
“We'll finish the job tomorrow,” I said. “It's just too hot today.”
Alexander and my younger son, Rufus, smiled and nodded brightly. Apparently I wasn't the only one wishing to go home that day.
I gathered our things into my rucksack and slung it over my shoulder before heading out at the head of the line. I didn't live that far away from the fields and the trip normally took only a few minutes. But as I reached the main road, I saw that the entire path was blocked by people. And not just regular people....
These were screaming people. People all over the place shouting and throwing their fists into the air. I couldn't see past any of them. To say the least, it was frustrating.
“What is going on?” I asked myself, stretching up on my toes to try and see what was so interesting to the rest of the mob.
“Hey, Dad!” Alexander shouted from somewhere behind me. “Rachel and Thomas are over there. Can we go see them?”
“Yeah, sure.” I answered, not really paying attention to my children as I tried to peer through the thick crowd. I needed to cross this street to get home.
A bit frustrated, I began shoving my way through the people. Sometimes, they shoved back. But I kept it up. Even though all of their voices had kind of blurred into this loud, buzzing sound, some of the people I passed were screaming things that I could understand.
“Kill him!” One of them shouted.
“He's a liar!”
“A criminal!”
“He deserves death!”
Just what on earth had I stepped into? More curious than ever, and a bit frightened now, I weaved my way through to the front of the crowd. The road had been completely cleared. There were hundreds of people standing on each side of the road, but the path itself was empty.
“What the...?” I stretched my neck out to look both ways. There appeared to be nothing interesting happening. Again, I stood up on my toes to try and get a better look. Over the hill to my left, I could see something silver. At first, it looked like a weapon, but the closer it came and the higher up on the hill it got, I could see that the silver, gleaming object was actually that of a helmet. A soldier's helmet. A Roman soldier's helmet.
Holy cow! I thought to myself as more of the soldiers appeared. Each of them were shouting at the crowds and pushing people back into place as they walked. If the Roman soldiers were here, something big had to be going down. My curiosity flared and I couldn't keep myself from leaning out further, into the street, to see what could have gotten such attention from the Romans.
There was a collective moaning from the people around me as the Romans came within feet of us. I hadn't seen before, but the crowds were actually throwing things- rocks, garbage, tools, you name it- at the group of soldiers.
“Get back!” One of them ordered me, shoving me back off of the road. I stumbled against the person behind me. The moaning grew louder. I could hear women screaming and sobbing hysterically. The person behind me cursed and shoved me forward again. I stumbled out onto the road.
I knew why the screams were louder.
The Romans hadn't been the center of attention. What they were guarding had been.
My eyes were fixed on the face of a man. He was hunched over, underneath a massive, wooden cross. The Roman soldiers were surrounding him, protecting him, as he struggled to make his way down the road. The crowd was flooding in behind the man.
I probably would have been able to look away, to ignore the criminal, if I hadn't seen the state he was in. His hands, covered in blood and ripped open, were grasping the short arm of the cross on his back as if it were his savior. His face, partially hidden by the long dark hair on his head, was pressed up against the wood. His clothes, a simple robe that had been white at one time, was sticky with crimson blood and dirt from the ground.
I couldn't look away.
As I stood there, his eyes opened and he turned his face ever so slightly. But his eyes focused on mine. At that moment, I felt something flood my body. I couldn't explain the feeling, but my hands and knees were shaking. I watched as the man's hands slipped from the cross and he fell to the earth. The Roman guards rushed in to catch the heavy, wooden cross before it fell on top of him.
One of the guards kicked the man in the side, spat on him, and screamed at him to get up. I watched the man struggle to his hands and knees, but he couldn't make it to his feet.
The Roman guard cursed and looked around. His cold, heartless eyes rested on me.
“You there.” He pointed directly at me and marched over. “Get in there and carry it.” He grabbed the front of my shirt and tossed me at the man on the ground.
The man tilted his face up to look at mine. Jesus. Jesus of Nazareth! That was this man's name! I knew I had seen him before, but that was so long ago. And he certainly hadn't looked like this back then. Wasn't he the one the people had claimed to be their Savior? Their God? Wasn't he the one that had fed the thousands of people with only five loaves of bread and two fish? Hadn't I eaten that meal?
His dark eyes, glassy and filled with a stress that could not be imagined, appraised me for a moment before the Roman guard rested the wooden cross on my shoulder. It was unimaginably heavy. I stumbled at first while the other guards pulled Jesus to his feet and shoved him into the other side of the cross. His warm hands touched mine.
I looked at him again. He had his face resting on the cross. I could hear the labored breathing coming from his chest and saw now that his hair was dark with congealed blood that dripped from the ring of thorns embedded into his skull. The sight was almost revolting. Not just because blood made me queasy, but also because of the fact that this man, this poor man, was being put through all of this. I couldn't understand. I knew that this crowd, the one surrounding us, had once worshiped him as the promised Messiah. I knew that on this road, as well as many others, they laid out palm leaves for him because they loved him so. Were these not the same people that threw rocks at him now? That shouted for him to be put to death? That wanted him to die this way?
“Move it.” One of the guards ordered, and I was forced to drag the wooden posts across the ground. It was so heavy. Jesus stumbled only to keep up. My shoulders were already beginning to ache. I had been working in the fields since sun up and my body was tired.
Jesus coughed and I looked over to see blood spurting out of his lips. He was really in bad shape. How long had he been carrying this cross before I had come? How long would we still have to go?
His hands began slipping again.
“No!” I shouted. His face turned to me. “You can do it.”
His eyes focused on mine once more before looking straight ahead again.
My legs were beginning to quiver. I was breathing heavy now. I looked over to see Jesus' head tilted down, toward the earth. His back was arched as he walked along. My eyes widened at the sight. His back, covered by his outer garment, was seeping blood. From the neck hole, I could see deep, throbbing wounds. The blood was running so thickly and so pure that the wounds themselves looked black with the rich, crimson color of it.
He slipped again.
“Jesus!” I cried. He stood back up. “Don't give up!” My words were loud, but the crowds were louder. I wasn't sure if he'd heard me. “We're almost there, don't give up.”
He looked at me again, wheezing and breathing heavily, and his eyes were different somehow. Stronger, powerful. He would never give up, despite the circumstances. Not on me, not on anyone.
I watched as he turned his head again, to look forward, and I took my eyes off of him. I looked to where he looked and I saw a large hill.
“Golgotha.” I whispered. This was the hill where criminals were put to death by the most gruesome means. The worst death someone could bear was the crucifixion.
It all made sense now. This cross... this was for his crucifixion. The people were going to crucify him.
But no one had ever had to carry their cross before. No one had ever been beaten to near death before they were crucified.
What crime could this man have committed that he would deserve a punishment such as this?
“You're done here.” The Roman guard from earlier grabbed me again and tried to tear me away from him. But I fought back. I didn't want to leave him. I didn't want to make him carry that heavy cross again. But there were a few guards that came to take my place when I was finally ripped away from him and tossed carelessly aside.
I quickly recuperated and ran to catch up with the guards that were practically carrying him up the hill now. The crowds were faster than me. People easily raced by me and I was, once again, left at the back of the crowd.
I tried to see what was happening. I tried to squeeze between the people, but I couldn't. The crowds were really fighting now. Nobody wanted to miss witnessing this.
I sighed. There was no way I was getting through this mess.
As I stood there, looking through any opening that I might be able to peek through, I heard more hysterical screams. I looked over to see a woman crying. She looked familiar. I couldn't recognize her until a young man wrapped his arms around her and began forcing their way through. Mary. That must have been Jesus' mother. Jesus never left his mother. I had seen him preach many a time and she had always been there with him.
Oh, how she must have been hurting now! To see her son being put through this and being unable to do anything to stop it!
I brought my hand up to my face, to cover my gaping mouth, as I listened to the all-too-familiar clank! clank! clank! of the nails into the wood, through human flesh. I had witnessed crucifixions before. They were never a pretty sight.
Clank! Clank! Clank! The next nail, probably through his other hand. I couldn't hear him screaming, if he was, over the noise the crowd was making.
Clank! Clank! Clank! The feet were always last. They were usually nailed together. I cringed and covered my eyes with my hand.
Clank! Clank! Clank!
What? What could they be nailing this time? Hadn't they already nailed his hands and feet together? Were they nailing his head too?
I shook my head and opened my eyes. Over the heads of the people in front of me, I could see the Roman soldiers trying to lift the cross up, into place. It took quite a few tries, the cross was extremely heavy, before they managed to fit it into the hole in the ground. The wooden cross shook violently once as it settled into place, and Jesus' body- bare now except for his undergarment,- lurched forward from the force of it. I could see the physical pain show on his face as he cried out in agony. Blood dripped from his skin, probably into a pool around the base of his cross. He had lost a lot of blood.
I jumped up once to see if I was missing anything, but I wasn't as tall as the people in front of me. I could only see that Jesus was suspended in the air and the Romans were hanging up two more criminals, one on each side of him.
I could see now why the fourth nail was put in. There was a sign with sloppy writing on it that hung above Jesus' head. Squinting my eyes, I could make out the message: “Here is Jesus, King of the Jews”.
So... they had known then.
I felt my head shaking. I was absolutely appalled. How could they have done this to him? They knew that he really was their Savior, their Messiah, didn't they? He hadn't just claimed it out of insanity. At one time, these people, his people, had loved him. They had worshiped him. They had believed in him. Now... now they made a mockery of him. They laughed and scolded him. They spat at him and threw things. They beat him. They crucified him.
I couldn't stop the tears that began streaming down my cheeks. Why would they do such a thing? He was the Messiah! He was God's Son!
“Hey, You!” Someone near me shouted. I watched the smiling man as he waved his hands in the air. “King of the Jews, if you really are God's Son, why don't you come down from the cross right now?” He shouted. The people around him cheered him on.
“Yeah!” Someone else cried. “We'd believe you if you did that!”
I looked at them in disgust. How could they say something like that? But, at the same time, I too wondered why he didn't come down from the cross. Why would he choose to die this way? Why would he let anyone do this to him? Why would... why would God let this happen to himself?
I looked back at Jesus, whose head was tilted backward, toward heaven. Very quietly, under my breath, I whispered, “Come down. Please come down.” I shut my eyes tightly. “Please come down, Jesus. Show them. Show them all that you really are who you say you are....”
As soon as I opened my eyes again, I heard him cry out. The crowd quieted down so much that I could hear his strangled breaths reverberating off of the stone walls. I watched as he tilted his head back toward the ground and then at heaven once more.
“Father!” He screamed in agony. “Forgive them, for they know not what they do...” his words ended in a shaky, warbled noise as tears strangled his breath and stole it from his suffocating body. His head fell back down and someone in the front wailed and sobbed.
Probably Mary, I thought before the people began shouting and hollering again. I hung my head. I could do nothing for this man.
I turned to leave. As I made it to the final gate before hitting the road that would lead me home, I heard Jesus once again shout.
“Father,” his voice rang out down the hill and into my ears. His voice was still strangled and broken, but stronger than the last shout. “I put myself in your hands.”
My heart felt as if it had dropped into my stomach. I cried again and then gasped as the earth began to move from underneath me.
“The curtain!” A priest from the temple came rushing past me, stumbling across the rumbling ground. “The curtain in the temple has been torn!”
The ground shook violently and the storm clouds above boomed with thunder. Without looking behind me, I ran the rest of the way home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Note: Some revisions were made. Also, I meant to put this up on Good Friday, but I forgotted. 8B
I went home that night and worked my butt off for about three hours to come up with a short story. I researched and compared Gospel stories. Then, I emailed it to my teacher after much blood, sweat, and tears. Especially the tears. Not joking. This story was hard to write for me.
And I won.
I received the cash prize, got my name stamped on a plaque, read my story in front of colleagues, scholars, and family, and became a published author. So here's what I wrote:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
King of the Jews
It was hot. So hot. The sun seemed to beat down extra hard that day as I toiled away in the fields. My farming equipment wasn't that great either, so the work was even harder. I had had to buy a new hoe the previous day because my last one had broken. The new one I bought wasn't much better, though. After complaining for half of the day about my rotten luck, I sneaked and exchanged the new tool for my son's old, worn-in one. He was younger. He had a stronger body. He could break it in for me this time.
I smiled at my clever trickery and went back to working the soil in the fields. The dirt was hard and crumbly, and it was much easier to plow through now that I had one of my own tools back. I stayed close to the outbuilding that contained our farming equipment, keeping my eye on the new piece of equipment.
Sure enough, my son Alexander walked up. He looked around for his tool and then took the new one in his hand. Settling for the new one, unknowingly falling into my little trap, he hung it over his shoulder and went back to his area of the fields to work.
I chuckled to myself.
As the sun began to rise higher in the sky, the day just seemed to get hotter. I finally couldn't take it anymore. I put my things away and called my boys to me.
“We'll finish the job tomorrow,” I said. “It's just too hot today.”
Alexander and my younger son, Rufus, smiled and nodded brightly. Apparently I wasn't the only one wishing to go home that day.
I gathered our things into my rucksack and slung it over my shoulder before heading out at the head of the line. I didn't live that far away from the fields and the trip normally took only a few minutes. But as I reached the main road, I saw that the entire path was blocked by people. And not just regular people....
These were screaming people. People all over the place shouting and throwing their fists into the air. I couldn't see past any of them. To say the least, it was frustrating.
“What is going on?” I asked myself, stretching up on my toes to try and see what was so interesting to the rest of the mob.
“Hey, Dad!” Alexander shouted from somewhere behind me. “Rachel and Thomas are over there. Can we go see them?”
“Yeah, sure.” I answered, not really paying attention to my children as I tried to peer through the thick crowd. I needed to cross this street to get home.
A bit frustrated, I began shoving my way through the people. Sometimes, they shoved back. But I kept it up. Even though all of their voices had kind of blurred into this loud, buzzing sound, some of the people I passed were screaming things that I could understand.
“Kill him!” One of them shouted.
“He's a liar!”
“A criminal!”
“He deserves death!”
Just what on earth had I stepped into? More curious than ever, and a bit frightened now, I weaved my way through to the front of the crowd. The road had been completely cleared. There were hundreds of people standing on each side of the road, but the path itself was empty.
“What the...?” I stretched my neck out to look both ways. There appeared to be nothing interesting happening. Again, I stood up on my toes to try and get a better look. Over the hill to my left, I could see something silver. At first, it looked like a weapon, but the closer it came and the higher up on the hill it got, I could see that the silver, gleaming object was actually that of a helmet. A soldier's helmet. A Roman soldier's helmet.
Holy cow! I thought to myself as more of the soldiers appeared. Each of them were shouting at the crowds and pushing people back into place as they walked. If the Roman soldiers were here, something big had to be going down. My curiosity flared and I couldn't keep myself from leaning out further, into the street, to see what could have gotten such attention from the Romans.
There was a collective moaning from the people around me as the Romans came within feet of us. I hadn't seen before, but the crowds were actually throwing things- rocks, garbage, tools, you name it- at the group of soldiers.
“Get back!” One of them ordered me, shoving me back off of the road. I stumbled against the person behind me. The moaning grew louder. I could hear women screaming and sobbing hysterically. The person behind me cursed and shoved me forward again. I stumbled out onto the road.
I knew why the screams were louder.
The Romans hadn't been the center of attention. What they were guarding had been.
My eyes were fixed on the face of a man. He was hunched over, underneath a massive, wooden cross. The Roman soldiers were surrounding him, protecting him, as he struggled to make his way down the road. The crowd was flooding in behind the man.
I probably would have been able to look away, to ignore the criminal, if I hadn't seen the state he was in. His hands, covered in blood and ripped open, were grasping the short arm of the cross on his back as if it were his savior. His face, partially hidden by the long dark hair on his head, was pressed up against the wood. His clothes, a simple robe that had been white at one time, was sticky with crimson blood and dirt from the ground.
I couldn't look away.
As I stood there, his eyes opened and he turned his face ever so slightly. But his eyes focused on mine. At that moment, I felt something flood my body. I couldn't explain the feeling, but my hands and knees were shaking. I watched as the man's hands slipped from the cross and he fell to the earth. The Roman guards rushed in to catch the heavy, wooden cross before it fell on top of him.
One of the guards kicked the man in the side, spat on him, and screamed at him to get up. I watched the man struggle to his hands and knees, but he couldn't make it to his feet.
The Roman guard cursed and looked around. His cold, heartless eyes rested on me.
“You there.” He pointed directly at me and marched over. “Get in there and carry it.” He grabbed the front of my shirt and tossed me at the man on the ground.
The man tilted his face up to look at mine. Jesus. Jesus of Nazareth! That was this man's name! I knew I had seen him before, but that was so long ago. And he certainly hadn't looked like this back then. Wasn't he the one the people had claimed to be their Savior? Their God? Wasn't he the one that had fed the thousands of people with only five loaves of bread and two fish? Hadn't I eaten that meal?
His dark eyes, glassy and filled with a stress that could not be imagined, appraised me for a moment before the Roman guard rested the wooden cross on my shoulder. It was unimaginably heavy. I stumbled at first while the other guards pulled Jesus to his feet and shoved him into the other side of the cross. His warm hands touched mine.
I looked at him again. He had his face resting on the cross. I could hear the labored breathing coming from his chest and saw now that his hair was dark with congealed blood that dripped from the ring of thorns embedded into his skull. The sight was almost revolting. Not just because blood made me queasy, but also because of the fact that this man, this poor man, was being put through all of this. I couldn't understand. I knew that this crowd, the one surrounding us, had once worshiped him as the promised Messiah. I knew that on this road, as well as many others, they laid out palm leaves for him because they loved him so. Were these not the same people that threw rocks at him now? That shouted for him to be put to death? That wanted him to die this way?
“Move it.” One of the guards ordered, and I was forced to drag the wooden posts across the ground. It was so heavy. Jesus stumbled only to keep up. My shoulders were already beginning to ache. I had been working in the fields since sun up and my body was tired.
Jesus coughed and I looked over to see blood spurting out of his lips. He was really in bad shape. How long had he been carrying this cross before I had come? How long would we still have to go?
His hands began slipping again.
“No!” I shouted. His face turned to me. “You can do it.”
His eyes focused on mine once more before looking straight ahead again.
My legs were beginning to quiver. I was breathing heavy now. I looked over to see Jesus' head tilted down, toward the earth. His back was arched as he walked along. My eyes widened at the sight. His back, covered by his outer garment, was seeping blood. From the neck hole, I could see deep, throbbing wounds. The blood was running so thickly and so pure that the wounds themselves looked black with the rich, crimson color of it.
He slipped again.
“Jesus!” I cried. He stood back up. “Don't give up!” My words were loud, but the crowds were louder. I wasn't sure if he'd heard me. “We're almost there, don't give up.”
He looked at me again, wheezing and breathing heavily, and his eyes were different somehow. Stronger, powerful. He would never give up, despite the circumstances. Not on me, not on anyone.
I watched as he turned his head again, to look forward, and I took my eyes off of him. I looked to where he looked and I saw a large hill.
“Golgotha.” I whispered. This was the hill where criminals were put to death by the most gruesome means. The worst death someone could bear was the crucifixion.
It all made sense now. This cross... this was for his crucifixion. The people were going to crucify him.
But no one had ever had to carry their cross before. No one had ever been beaten to near death before they were crucified.
What crime could this man have committed that he would deserve a punishment such as this?
“You're done here.” The Roman guard from earlier grabbed me again and tried to tear me away from him. But I fought back. I didn't want to leave him. I didn't want to make him carry that heavy cross again. But there were a few guards that came to take my place when I was finally ripped away from him and tossed carelessly aside.
I quickly recuperated and ran to catch up with the guards that were practically carrying him up the hill now. The crowds were faster than me. People easily raced by me and I was, once again, left at the back of the crowd.
I tried to see what was happening. I tried to squeeze between the people, but I couldn't. The crowds were really fighting now. Nobody wanted to miss witnessing this.
I sighed. There was no way I was getting through this mess.
As I stood there, looking through any opening that I might be able to peek through, I heard more hysterical screams. I looked over to see a woman crying. She looked familiar. I couldn't recognize her until a young man wrapped his arms around her and began forcing their way through. Mary. That must have been Jesus' mother. Jesus never left his mother. I had seen him preach many a time and she had always been there with him.
Oh, how she must have been hurting now! To see her son being put through this and being unable to do anything to stop it!
I brought my hand up to my face, to cover my gaping mouth, as I listened to the all-too-familiar clank! clank! clank! of the nails into the wood, through human flesh. I had witnessed crucifixions before. They were never a pretty sight.
Clank! Clank! Clank! The next nail, probably through his other hand. I couldn't hear him screaming, if he was, over the noise the crowd was making.
Clank! Clank! Clank! The feet were always last. They were usually nailed together. I cringed and covered my eyes with my hand.
Clank! Clank! Clank!
What? What could they be nailing this time? Hadn't they already nailed his hands and feet together? Were they nailing his head too?
I shook my head and opened my eyes. Over the heads of the people in front of me, I could see the Roman soldiers trying to lift the cross up, into place. It took quite a few tries, the cross was extremely heavy, before they managed to fit it into the hole in the ground. The wooden cross shook violently once as it settled into place, and Jesus' body- bare now except for his undergarment,- lurched forward from the force of it. I could see the physical pain show on his face as he cried out in agony. Blood dripped from his skin, probably into a pool around the base of his cross. He had lost a lot of blood.
I jumped up once to see if I was missing anything, but I wasn't as tall as the people in front of me. I could only see that Jesus was suspended in the air and the Romans were hanging up two more criminals, one on each side of him.
I could see now why the fourth nail was put in. There was a sign with sloppy writing on it that hung above Jesus' head. Squinting my eyes, I could make out the message: “Here is Jesus, King of the Jews”.
So... they had known then.
I felt my head shaking. I was absolutely appalled. How could they have done this to him? They knew that he really was their Savior, their Messiah, didn't they? He hadn't just claimed it out of insanity. At one time, these people, his people, had loved him. They had worshiped him. They had believed in him. Now... now they made a mockery of him. They laughed and scolded him. They spat at him and threw things. They beat him. They crucified him.
I couldn't stop the tears that began streaming down my cheeks. Why would they do such a thing? He was the Messiah! He was God's Son!
“Hey, You!” Someone near me shouted. I watched the smiling man as he waved his hands in the air. “King of the Jews, if you really are God's Son, why don't you come down from the cross right now?” He shouted. The people around him cheered him on.
“Yeah!” Someone else cried. “We'd believe you if you did that!”
I looked at them in disgust. How could they say something like that? But, at the same time, I too wondered why he didn't come down from the cross. Why would he choose to die this way? Why would he let anyone do this to him? Why would... why would God let this happen to himself?
I looked back at Jesus, whose head was tilted backward, toward heaven. Very quietly, under my breath, I whispered, “Come down. Please come down.” I shut my eyes tightly. “Please come down, Jesus. Show them. Show them all that you really are who you say you are....”
As soon as I opened my eyes again, I heard him cry out. The crowd quieted down so much that I could hear his strangled breaths reverberating off of the stone walls. I watched as he tilted his head back toward the ground and then at heaven once more.
“Father!” He screamed in agony. “Forgive them, for they know not what they do...” his words ended in a shaky, warbled noise as tears strangled his breath and stole it from his suffocating body. His head fell back down and someone in the front wailed and sobbed.
Probably Mary, I thought before the people began shouting and hollering again. I hung my head. I could do nothing for this man.
I turned to leave. As I made it to the final gate before hitting the road that would lead me home, I heard Jesus once again shout.
“Father,” his voice rang out down the hill and into my ears. His voice was still strangled and broken, but stronger than the last shout. “I put myself in your hands.”
My heart felt as if it had dropped into my stomach. I cried again and then gasped as the earth began to move from underneath me.
“The curtain!” A priest from the temple came rushing past me, stumbling across the rumbling ground. “The curtain in the temple has been torn!”
The ground shook violently and the storm clouds above boomed with thunder. Without looking behind me, I ran the rest of the way home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Note: Some revisions were made. Also, I meant to put this up on Good Friday, but I forgotted. 8B
+Lost and Uncertain+
A poem that I wrote yesterday, capturing some of my feelings lately.
~~~~~~~~~~~
I thought I knew what you want me to do,
I thought I knew who you want me to be.
Why do I now feel so confused?
Why won't you make it clear to me?
Is this where I'm headed? The road to nowhere?
Just stumbling around like a fool?
Why does it feel like you don't even care?
Why won't you tell me what to do?
I live my life for you every day,
I thought you cared for me, too.
So why are you letting me feel this way?
I want to know what to do.
So many decisions are coming up fast,
and it feels like I'm at a loss.
I don't know exactly how long I can last,
or what the decisions will cost.
It was all so clear before, don't you see,
and I don't know what has changed,
but suddenly you're not here with me,
and these things you just won't explain.
Why make things appear the way that they are
if they aren't going to be that at all?
I knew what I was doing, I made it this far,
but now all of those hopes and dreams fall.
You better work fast if you know what you'll do,
I'm giving you all of my being.
But I'll tell you right now, I don't understand you,
and I cannot see what you're seeing.
The future's uncertain, I feel like I'll drown!
I'm tired of worry and strife!
Don't get my hopes up if you'll just let me down.
Please, just take control of this life.
~~~~~~~~~~~
I thought I knew what you want me to do,
I thought I knew who you want me to be.
Why do I now feel so confused?
Why won't you make it clear to me?
Is this where I'm headed? The road to nowhere?
Just stumbling around like a fool?
Why does it feel like you don't even care?
Why won't you tell me what to do?
I live my life for you every day,
I thought you cared for me, too.
So why are you letting me feel this way?
I want to know what to do.
So many decisions are coming up fast,
and it feels like I'm at a loss.
I don't know exactly how long I can last,
or what the decisions will cost.
It was all so clear before, don't you see,
and I don't know what has changed,
but suddenly you're not here with me,
and these things you just won't explain.
Why make things appear the way that they are
if they aren't going to be that at all?
I knew what I was doing, I made it this far,
but now all of those hopes and dreams fall.
You better work fast if you know what you'll do,
I'm giving you all of my being.
But I'll tell you right now, I don't understand you,
and I cannot see what you're seeing.
The future's uncertain, I feel like I'll drown!
I'm tired of worry and strife!
Don't get my hopes up if you'll just let me down.
Please, just take control of this life.
Monday, March 29, 2010
.:Murphy's Law:.
Written in 2008 for a creative writing class. This is a Twilight fanfiction. Twilight is (c) to Stephenie Meyer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Murphy's Law was my constant companion.
I realized with some disdain that my life was just a big ball of irony all strewn together and weaved in odd ways that would probably discourage most. But somehow, I was a fighter. I didn't give up… and I didn't know why.
I had lived a life of butchery for quite a while before I came to my senses and realized that what I was doing was wrong. Terribly, horribly and disgustingly wrong. For years, I had survived on the blood of others. Never did I spill the blood of my allies or those which had good intentions. No, I was sane enough to realize who deserved death and who didn't. But who was I to judge whether or not a man died? I was not God. And that realization came to me when my eyes were finally opened to the wretchedness I had been a part of for so long.
I didn't exactly remember how or when this realization came to fruition, only that it happened and I was glad it had.
The lust for human blood was not something that should be… encouraged. I knew that, so I ran from my previous life, ran from everything that could drag me back down into those deep, dark pits of Hell.
When I met the Cullen family, I found their… erm… "diet" to be rather odd, but acceptable. Feasting on the blood of animals rather than humans was a very difficult transition (human blood is much more desirable than that of an elk), but I had managed. I had made sure I would manage because of one member of the Cullen family. Technically, she was not biologically related to them (but neither were any of them), and I fell in love with her upon laying my crimson eyes on her.
Alice Cullen was the love of my life. The fact that we were brought together was not just mere happenstance, either. You see, Alice possesses a gift. It's much stronger than mine (which is to manipulate the emotions of those around me). Alice is able to look into the future. She saw who I was and that we were going to fall in love. Ironically, I had thought that I would never fall in love. Who would want to be with a monster like me?
But Alice's love was just one example of the irony that was my life. The more recent happened just as of late.
I had been sent on a mission provided by my mother figure, Esme Cullen. I was to seek out and retrieve food items (yes, human food items) for my brother's girlfriend. Edward, my younger brother, was better at maintaining his hunger around humans. He had a harder time with his young, human girlfriend, Bella Swan, who had extraordinarily… delicious-smelling blood, especially to Edward. But he was in love with her and determined never to take her life from her.
I never really understood their connection; I had never had a strong connection with any human during my "afterlife". But, I enjoyed Bella's company and was glad that she was coming over for dinner that night. Esme was bubbling with joy, of course, and Alice was giddy with excitement.
This may have explained why I was left in the supermarket… alone.
My family often saw me for who I was not. Other than Alice and Edward (who had an intriguing ability to read minds), my family thought that I was strong. Of course, they knew that I was the one out of our coven that was struggling the most, but they put too much confidence in my self-control. I had always portrayed that to my family- the strong one, the calm one. I was useful to them in that way. I, after all, had the useful ability to control the emotions of those around me… which helped a little when you had a house full of hungry vampires trying not to gouge into the flesh of an innocent, seventeen-year old girl who was in love with one of your siblings….
But I was indeed much weaker than they perceived, especially when I hadn't eaten for a while. Two weeks without food was about my limit. I could barely control any part of my body beyond that. But I was trying to make it longer, trying to make myself stronger. It was difficult, especially when I was surrounded by potential… meals.
And since supermarkets were not full of trees and elk like the forest, but rather clueless, helpless humans that could not escape me if I snapped, it was very… very difficult.
I managed to weave my way through the aisles, holding my breath most of the time. I technically did not need air to survive. My lungs burned for it, but oxygen was not what kept my life going. So I could hold my breath for a very long time. Indefinitely, if I had to, I supposed.
I was close to being done with my shopping trip and stopped at the shelf that held the raw meats- hamburger, roast, bacon, etc. I was about to reach down and pick up the package of raw hamburger in the highest brand name there, when I heard some giggling behind me. I often heard many noises behind me. Sometimes, having extraordinary hearing could even distract me with the conversations that were being held around me.
I chose to ignore the giggling and continued rooting for one of the packages that contained the most hamburger meat. Another round of giggles, louder this time, and I was starting to get curious about what could be so entertaining behind me.
I carefully lifted the package up and turned my torso slightly to place it in the shopping cart. My eyes flitted over to the source of the laughter.
Three young girls, in their mid-teenage years I would have guessed, were standing not that far away from where I was. Two of them were taller. One had short, red hair and the other had long, brown hair piled atop her head in a heap that was supposed to be "stylish". The shortest one was the most animated. Her hands never remained in one place for more than a few seconds. She had about shoulder-length, sandy hair that bobbed around whenever her head moved… which was quite often.
After my split-second deduction of what the situation was, I was back to picking out a second package of hamburger.
"I bet that Bella girl doesn't know what to do with herself." One of the girls giggled. I turned my head slightly to catch who had said it. The shorter one with sandy hair. A smile tugged at my lips.
"Yeah, all those beautiful Cullen boys all over the place. Of course, Edward is the only one available," replied the red-head. "But, I really don't understand. I mean, he was never interested in any of the girls at school until she came along." This line was said with a bit more venom than the last.
I rolled my eyes.
"Hey, isn't that a Cullen over there?" whispered the brunette. She was trying to be stealthy, unaware that I was able to hear even the lowest of whispers.
My smile disappeared when I realized they'd taken an interest to me. I sighed and attempted to ignore the rest of their conversation as I continued shopping.
But it wasn't thirty seconds later that I heard the sound of footsteps approaching me. I tried not to turn to face the stranger, even though my body automatically reacted defensively. I didn't enjoy people sneaking up behind me. But, I was likely to scare the person approaching me if I suddenly whipped around and stared them down like some sort of predator. So, I let the person approach on their own.
I felt a very soft tap on my left shoulder, almost too soft to feel on my hard, granite-like skin. If I hadn't just been attuned to my surroundings, I most likely wouldn't have noticed the gentle nudge.
I tried to look normal, even a bit surprised, as I turned to face the stranger.
The sandy-haired girl was smiling back at me.
Okay… so I didn't have to fake the surprise much. In reality, I had half-expected it to be some sort of store employee asking me to move aside so that he or she could re-stock the shelf. Even part of me had hoped it was Edward or Alice, coming to save me (or at least keep an eye on me, even if it did irritate me to have babysitters…). I certainly hadn't expected a girl from my own high school, let alone one that I had scared quite a few times, to come within even three feet of me.
"You're Jasper Cullen, right?" She asked with that inflection in her tone that reminded me of a bad eighties movie.
I quickly gathered myself together again and smiled at her. "Yes, Ma'am. What can I do for you?" Instinctively, I sent out an easy vibe, one that would calm any fear she might have felt.
The girl looked back at her two friends, who were now staring at us with wide-eyes, and then back at me. "Do you know Bella Swan?" She asked with that same inflection. She tilted her head to the side, clearing falling for my pleasant wave of calmness.
"Yes, I do." I answered politely. "Why do you ask?"
"Isn't she, like, your brother's girlfriend or something?"
"That is correct." I nodded once. She didn't respond then, and instead chewed on her bottom lip in thought.
"Is… that all?" I asked, wanting to escape the situation now that my oxygen supply was dwindling. I may not have needed air to live, but I needed air to speak.
The girl looked back at her friends again. The two teenagers giggled annoyingly and scurried away. I had a feeling that I was the victim of some inside joke I hadn't heard.
"Oh, nothing." The girl sighed in response to my question. Her eyes lit up then, as if she suddenly realized something. "Oh, sorry," she said, blushing. "I should have introduced myself. I'm Whitney." She held out her hand.
I looked at her once before my eyes trailed down to her hand. Smiling, I took it in my own and bowed as any gentleman would. I already knew who the girl was. She had passed by me many times in school and her mother had invited Esme to a garden party once. In fact, I knew most of the faces in Forks, if not all. The town wasn't that large and the population was small. But, I allowed Whitney to believe that she was being polite anyway. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Whitney."
That was it. The last of my oxygen fluttered through my lips with those words. I stood back up, not allowing the discomfort to show on my face at all. I would wait for her to leave before I let myself take in another lungful of air.
But Whitney didn't leave. After letting go of my hand, she spun around and leaned against the grocery store shelf.
"You had my Trig class last year, right?" She asked.
I blinked at her in confusion. Why was she still here? Had I made her too calm? Did I need to instill some fear in her to make her go away?
I didn't want to use my power in that way. People rarely approached me or talked to me and I was a little curious as to why this young girl was attempting a friendly conversation with someone that scared most people. I looked around again for her friends, but they were nowhere close to us. Perhaps they had put her up to a bet or a dare. I sighed internally and rolled my eyes quickly. Kids.
I realized, after just a second of pondering this, Whitney was still waiting for a reply. To reply to her, I needed to take a breath. To take a breath, I needed to be away from her.
I craned my neck around as far as I could, as if I were going to sneeze, and sucked in air sharply. The taste of her scent danced on my tongue, making saliva form at the corners of my mouth, but it was bearable. I sneezed just for show and turned back to her, holding all the air I had re-gained, in my lungs.
"Yes, I did." I replied quietly. "Did you have a question?"
I saw her nose wrinkle just a touch at the mention of tutoring, but she shook her head. "Nah, I was just wondering. Do you think Varner is a little uptight?"
I wasn't expecting such a straight-forward question. Given time to think about it, I probably would have said yes. Mister Varner could be a somewhat "uptight" teacher, I supposed. But I didn't have time to think and I was caught off-guard. I raised an eyebrow and replied, "No."
Whitney shrugged. "I just think he should lay off a little, you know? He likes to, you know, make you suffer in class. Like, the other day, I was taking notes and I missed one question he asked. He about bit my head off for it."
I frowned a touch. Why was she talking to me about such trivial things? I was on a schedule and she was causing me to run late. I wished this little game I was caught in, this dare or whathaveyou, would end so that I could leave in peace. But, Whitney showed no signs of moving.
"He is a teacher," I tried to explain; "he deals with many students that misbehave more than you or me. When I was in his class, I received the same treatment." That may have been a small lie. In truth, every one of my teachers enjoyed my presence. I made sure of it.
I picked out another package of hamburger, trying to give my guest a hint that I needed to leave, and cut off all pleasant vibes radiating from my mind. Instead of inserting emotions, I just let her regular feelings come back.
I recognized when her senses came back to her, because she blinked a few times too many and shuffled her position a bit. She turned to look at me again and gave me a soft smile.
"Well… it's been nice talking to you, Jasper." She said quietly.
I could tell that the fear was back in place. I smiled and bowed my head a little in understanding.
In that second… everything changed.
Whitney turned away from me and pushed off of the counter with her hands. I heard a gasp come from her as she yanked her hand away from the counter. Instinctively, I took a breath to ask her what was wrong. But then… the smell hit me.
I had smelled human blood before, but it was always at a distance. Never was I so close… and so… hungry. She raised her hand to her face, staring at the small slice in her finger.
"Ouch, dang it. Stupid counter."
Her words seemed to be in slow motion as I stared at her. Immediately my body tensed and I prepared a crouch that would start out my attack. Venom flooded my mouth, flowing down my throat. My stomach burned with the white-hot intensity that came with the hunger. A red haze clouded my vision and my better judgment.
I was a predator now.
I could feel every ounce of humanity leaving my body, just trickling away from my conscience. Every feeling, every moral was masked completely by the hunger. Whitney was no longer a human being in my mind. She was a meal. Food.
Not even a second had passed as I considered these things. Whitney was still taking the same step away from me, holding her blood-smeared finger in her mouth. It didn't matter. That wouldn't help. I could still smell the crimson, iron liquid.
I felt my body turn toward her just slightly, not enough that she would notice. I looked around. Our aisle was all but empty now. There were two younger people shopping together at the other end of the aisle, but they were leaving. Soon, Whitney and I would be alone. And I would kill her.
The word "kill"… it sent a wave of shock through my body. An inkling of my humanity came back to me for a moment, registering in my mind that killing a human was a bad thing. But my instincts took over again and I didn't care.
Alice and Edward should have known. They shouldn't have left me alone in this store, no matter how much I hated being babysat by them. They should have realized that I wasn't yet ready. That my previous lifestyle was still fresh in my mind. That I was still a killer, a monster.
And why hadn't Alice seen this coming? Why hadn't she gone with me just to make sure everything would be fine? Was she so focused on Bella that she didn't care what happened to me? No, I couldn't believe that. Alice loved me. She would throw me to the wolves.
But then, what could explain her reason for not being here? Even now as I pondered different ways of killing this young, innocent girl? She should have seen it by now. She should have known.
The less civilized part of my mind sent out a wave of comfort for Whitney. I no longer wanted her to leave. I mixed the comfort with a curiosity and an attraction to get her to come back. She still hadn't fully taken the step away from me.
I knew it was now or never. I needed to make her death quick so that she couldn't alert anyone to my presence. I scanned the ceilings for the security cameras. There was only one black orb attached to the ceiling near us, but my sharp vision told me that the camera was pointed the opposite way. The revolutions were slow for the cameras in this store. I often tried to avoid them when I came here, so I knew that I had exactly twenty-five seconds until the camera would rotate to face me. Twenty-five seconds to kill her and find some sort of escape.
The escape didn't really bother me right now. Although I knew there was but one entrance and exit to the store (which were at the front), I was not bothered with this trivial problem that I would solve once the dirty task had been accomplished.
I took a step toward her… and froze. Something like a brick wall slammed into my mind and I couldn't move from the shock of it. It was as if the electric pulses in my brain had shorted out and couldn't get a message to my legs to move forward. Whitney had barely taken her first step away from me.
Surprised by this sudden "walled" feeling, I paused in my attack. What was going on? I focused my vision on Whitney and my instinctual thoughts were irate. She was getting away.
"You can do it, Jasper. You won't hurt her."
The voice startled me. I quickly looked around, but Alice was nowhere in sight or in the range of my hearing, which was a good mile or two. How had she spoken to me? As far as I knew, none of my vampiric family was able to insert thoughts into another's mind like Edward was able to read them from someone's mind. This was a feat that had not yet been accomplished by any vampire I knew of. How then?
I felt the wall loosen and inched my body forward when another shield came up around the helpless, human girl standing in front of me.
"Be strong, Jasper. I know you can do it."
"Where are you?!" I demanded in my mind. I had convinced myself I was being tricked. It was as if someone somewhere was watching me and I couldn't see them or hear them. I took another step forward.
There was not a wall that stopped me this time. There was a picture. An image in front of my mind's eye, obscuring the view of Whitney just beyond the picture.
The picture I saw was Alice. She was perfect in every way, of course. Her pale, granite skin glowed lightly in the artificial lights of the store. Her short, spiky black hair was styled as it always was, sticking out in every direction. Her full, red lips were stretched wide in a smile that showed her brilliant, white teeth. And her golden eyes… were staring at my dark, black ones.
She did not stare at me in horror or disgust. There was no look of disappointment on her features. Instead, her smile was reassuring. Comforting. As if she did think I was strong enough… somehow. As if she didn't see me as a monster or a murderer. As if she knew something that I did not yet.
"I love you, Jasper." The image whispered to me. Her voice was so clear, so beautiful in my mind. It was almost like she was actually there with me. My eyes flickered from the image of my beautiful wife to the innocent girl that was still facing away from me. The hunger rose up again, nearly throwing me over the edge.
But I concentrated on Alice. Beautiful Alice. The one who'd always believed in me from the beginning. Even when I had not known her, Alice had believed in me. She knew I wasn't a monster. She knew I didn't want a lifestyle of torture and murder. And she helped me attain what I desired most: to be loved. Truly loved, too. Not loved for my power or strength or intelligence. Loved for who I was, no matter who that may be.
I felt my body relax slightly as her face still stared back at me, never blinking once. I straightened my slightly-hunched position and closed my lips.
"Hold your breath." Alice and I both told my mind. I immediately cut off all air flow into my lungs. It was difficult at first. I desired to smell the girl's blood again. But I managed to keep myself from breathing. The venom in my mouth, the ache in my stomach, it all began to recede as my humanity began taking dominance once more.
I cut off all emotional vibes I was sending out and watched Whitney take a few more steps away as Alice's image began to vanish from my vision. The girl turned once to look at me with a soft smile.
I smiled back.
"Well done, Jasper," Alice's voice praised in my head, "I am proud."
I closed my eyes and smiled. Perhaps I didn't need Alice or Edward's physical appearance with me after all. Perhaps they were both right. Perhaps they had been right all along, and I had never given myself a chance. Perhaps I was stronger than I thought.
Murphy's Law was my constant companion. But now I know how to deal with my little friend.
I would not be a killer. I would not be a monster. Not today, not ever.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Murphy's Law was my constant companion.
I realized with some disdain that my life was just a big ball of irony all strewn together and weaved in odd ways that would probably discourage most. But somehow, I was a fighter. I didn't give up… and I didn't know why.
I had lived a life of butchery for quite a while before I came to my senses and realized that what I was doing was wrong. Terribly, horribly and disgustingly wrong. For years, I had survived on the blood of others. Never did I spill the blood of my allies or those which had good intentions. No, I was sane enough to realize who deserved death and who didn't. But who was I to judge whether or not a man died? I was not God. And that realization came to me when my eyes were finally opened to the wretchedness I had been a part of for so long.
I didn't exactly remember how or when this realization came to fruition, only that it happened and I was glad it had.
The lust for human blood was not something that should be… encouraged. I knew that, so I ran from my previous life, ran from everything that could drag me back down into those deep, dark pits of Hell.
When I met the Cullen family, I found their… erm… "diet" to be rather odd, but acceptable. Feasting on the blood of animals rather than humans was a very difficult transition (human blood is much more desirable than that of an elk), but I had managed. I had made sure I would manage because of one member of the Cullen family. Technically, she was not biologically related to them (but neither were any of them), and I fell in love with her upon laying my crimson eyes on her.
Alice Cullen was the love of my life. The fact that we were brought together was not just mere happenstance, either. You see, Alice possesses a gift. It's much stronger than mine (which is to manipulate the emotions of those around me). Alice is able to look into the future. She saw who I was and that we were going to fall in love. Ironically, I had thought that I would never fall in love. Who would want to be with a monster like me?
But Alice's love was just one example of the irony that was my life. The more recent happened just as of late.
I had been sent on a mission provided by my mother figure, Esme Cullen. I was to seek out and retrieve food items (yes, human food items) for my brother's girlfriend. Edward, my younger brother, was better at maintaining his hunger around humans. He had a harder time with his young, human girlfriend, Bella Swan, who had extraordinarily… delicious-smelling blood, especially to Edward. But he was in love with her and determined never to take her life from her.
I never really understood their connection; I had never had a strong connection with any human during my "afterlife". But, I enjoyed Bella's company and was glad that she was coming over for dinner that night. Esme was bubbling with joy, of course, and Alice was giddy with excitement.
This may have explained why I was left in the supermarket… alone.
My family often saw me for who I was not. Other than Alice and Edward (who had an intriguing ability to read minds), my family thought that I was strong. Of course, they knew that I was the one out of our coven that was struggling the most, but they put too much confidence in my self-control. I had always portrayed that to my family- the strong one, the calm one. I was useful to them in that way. I, after all, had the useful ability to control the emotions of those around me… which helped a little when you had a house full of hungry vampires trying not to gouge into the flesh of an innocent, seventeen-year old girl who was in love with one of your siblings….
But I was indeed much weaker than they perceived, especially when I hadn't eaten for a while. Two weeks without food was about my limit. I could barely control any part of my body beyond that. But I was trying to make it longer, trying to make myself stronger. It was difficult, especially when I was surrounded by potential… meals.
And since supermarkets were not full of trees and elk like the forest, but rather clueless, helpless humans that could not escape me if I snapped, it was very… very difficult.
I managed to weave my way through the aisles, holding my breath most of the time. I technically did not need air to survive. My lungs burned for it, but oxygen was not what kept my life going. So I could hold my breath for a very long time. Indefinitely, if I had to, I supposed.
I was close to being done with my shopping trip and stopped at the shelf that held the raw meats- hamburger, roast, bacon, etc. I was about to reach down and pick up the package of raw hamburger in the highest brand name there, when I heard some giggling behind me. I often heard many noises behind me. Sometimes, having extraordinary hearing could even distract me with the conversations that were being held around me.
I chose to ignore the giggling and continued rooting for one of the packages that contained the most hamburger meat. Another round of giggles, louder this time, and I was starting to get curious about what could be so entertaining behind me.
I carefully lifted the package up and turned my torso slightly to place it in the shopping cart. My eyes flitted over to the source of the laughter.
Three young girls, in their mid-teenage years I would have guessed, were standing not that far away from where I was. Two of them were taller. One had short, red hair and the other had long, brown hair piled atop her head in a heap that was supposed to be "stylish". The shortest one was the most animated. Her hands never remained in one place for more than a few seconds. She had about shoulder-length, sandy hair that bobbed around whenever her head moved… which was quite often.
After my split-second deduction of what the situation was, I was back to picking out a second package of hamburger.
"I bet that Bella girl doesn't know what to do with herself." One of the girls giggled. I turned my head slightly to catch who had said it. The shorter one with sandy hair. A smile tugged at my lips.
"Yeah, all those beautiful Cullen boys all over the place. Of course, Edward is the only one available," replied the red-head. "But, I really don't understand. I mean, he was never interested in any of the girls at school until she came along." This line was said with a bit more venom than the last.
I rolled my eyes.
"Hey, isn't that a Cullen over there?" whispered the brunette. She was trying to be stealthy, unaware that I was able to hear even the lowest of whispers.
My smile disappeared when I realized they'd taken an interest to me. I sighed and attempted to ignore the rest of their conversation as I continued shopping.
But it wasn't thirty seconds later that I heard the sound of footsteps approaching me. I tried not to turn to face the stranger, even though my body automatically reacted defensively. I didn't enjoy people sneaking up behind me. But, I was likely to scare the person approaching me if I suddenly whipped around and stared them down like some sort of predator. So, I let the person approach on their own.
I felt a very soft tap on my left shoulder, almost too soft to feel on my hard, granite-like skin. If I hadn't just been attuned to my surroundings, I most likely wouldn't have noticed the gentle nudge.
I tried to look normal, even a bit surprised, as I turned to face the stranger.
The sandy-haired girl was smiling back at me.
Okay… so I didn't have to fake the surprise much. In reality, I had half-expected it to be some sort of store employee asking me to move aside so that he or she could re-stock the shelf. Even part of me had hoped it was Edward or Alice, coming to save me (or at least keep an eye on me, even if it did irritate me to have babysitters…). I certainly hadn't expected a girl from my own high school, let alone one that I had scared quite a few times, to come within even three feet of me.
"You're Jasper Cullen, right?" She asked with that inflection in her tone that reminded me of a bad eighties movie.
I quickly gathered myself together again and smiled at her. "Yes, Ma'am. What can I do for you?" Instinctively, I sent out an easy vibe, one that would calm any fear she might have felt.
The girl looked back at her two friends, who were now staring at us with wide-eyes, and then back at me. "Do you know Bella Swan?" She asked with that same inflection. She tilted her head to the side, clearing falling for my pleasant wave of calmness.
"Yes, I do." I answered politely. "Why do you ask?"
"Isn't she, like, your brother's girlfriend or something?"
"That is correct." I nodded once. She didn't respond then, and instead chewed on her bottom lip in thought.
"Is… that all?" I asked, wanting to escape the situation now that my oxygen supply was dwindling. I may not have needed air to live, but I needed air to speak.
The girl looked back at her friends again. The two teenagers giggled annoyingly and scurried away. I had a feeling that I was the victim of some inside joke I hadn't heard.
"Oh, nothing." The girl sighed in response to my question. Her eyes lit up then, as if she suddenly realized something. "Oh, sorry," she said, blushing. "I should have introduced myself. I'm Whitney." She held out her hand.
I looked at her once before my eyes trailed down to her hand. Smiling, I took it in my own and bowed as any gentleman would. I already knew who the girl was. She had passed by me many times in school and her mother had invited Esme to a garden party once. In fact, I knew most of the faces in Forks, if not all. The town wasn't that large and the population was small. But, I allowed Whitney to believe that she was being polite anyway. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Whitney."
That was it. The last of my oxygen fluttered through my lips with those words. I stood back up, not allowing the discomfort to show on my face at all. I would wait for her to leave before I let myself take in another lungful of air.
But Whitney didn't leave. After letting go of my hand, she spun around and leaned against the grocery store shelf.
"You had my Trig class last year, right?" She asked.
I blinked at her in confusion. Why was she still here? Had I made her too calm? Did I need to instill some fear in her to make her go away?
I didn't want to use my power in that way. People rarely approached me or talked to me and I was a little curious as to why this young girl was attempting a friendly conversation with someone that scared most people. I looked around again for her friends, but they were nowhere close to us. Perhaps they had put her up to a bet or a dare. I sighed internally and rolled my eyes quickly. Kids.
I realized, after just a second of pondering this, Whitney was still waiting for a reply. To reply to her, I needed to take a breath. To take a breath, I needed to be away from her.
I craned my neck around as far as I could, as if I were going to sneeze, and sucked in air sharply. The taste of her scent danced on my tongue, making saliva form at the corners of my mouth, but it was bearable. I sneezed just for show and turned back to her, holding all the air I had re-gained, in my lungs.
"Yes, I did." I replied quietly. "Did you have a question?"
I saw her nose wrinkle just a touch at the mention of tutoring, but she shook her head. "Nah, I was just wondering. Do you think Varner is a little uptight?"
I wasn't expecting such a straight-forward question. Given time to think about it, I probably would have said yes. Mister Varner could be a somewhat "uptight" teacher, I supposed. But I didn't have time to think and I was caught off-guard. I raised an eyebrow and replied, "No."
Whitney shrugged. "I just think he should lay off a little, you know? He likes to, you know, make you suffer in class. Like, the other day, I was taking notes and I missed one question he asked. He about bit my head off for it."
I frowned a touch. Why was she talking to me about such trivial things? I was on a schedule and she was causing me to run late. I wished this little game I was caught in, this dare or whathaveyou, would end so that I could leave in peace. But, Whitney showed no signs of moving.
"He is a teacher," I tried to explain; "he deals with many students that misbehave more than you or me. When I was in his class, I received the same treatment." That may have been a small lie. In truth, every one of my teachers enjoyed my presence. I made sure of it.
I picked out another package of hamburger, trying to give my guest a hint that I needed to leave, and cut off all pleasant vibes radiating from my mind. Instead of inserting emotions, I just let her regular feelings come back.
I recognized when her senses came back to her, because she blinked a few times too many and shuffled her position a bit. She turned to look at me again and gave me a soft smile.
"Well… it's been nice talking to you, Jasper." She said quietly.
I could tell that the fear was back in place. I smiled and bowed my head a little in understanding.
In that second… everything changed.
Whitney turned away from me and pushed off of the counter with her hands. I heard a gasp come from her as she yanked her hand away from the counter. Instinctively, I took a breath to ask her what was wrong. But then… the smell hit me.
I had smelled human blood before, but it was always at a distance. Never was I so close… and so… hungry. She raised her hand to her face, staring at the small slice in her finger.
"Ouch, dang it. Stupid counter."
Her words seemed to be in slow motion as I stared at her. Immediately my body tensed and I prepared a crouch that would start out my attack. Venom flooded my mouth, flowing down my throat. My stomach burned with the white-hot intensity that came with the hunger. A red haze clouded my vision and my better judgment.
I was a predator now.
I could feel every ounce of humanity leaving my body, just trickling away from my conscience. Every feeling, every moral was masked completely by the hunger. Whitney was no longer a human being in my mind. She was a meal. Food.
Not even a second had passed as I considered these things. Whitney was still taking the same step away from me, holding her blood-smeared finger in her mouth. It didn't matter. That wouldn't help. I could still smell the crimson, iron liquid.
I felt my body turn toward her just slightly, not enough that she would notice. I looked around. Our aisle was all but empty now. There were two younger people shopping together at the other end of the aisle, but they were leaving. Soon, Whitney and I would be alone. And I would kill her.
The word "kill"… it sent a wave of shock through my body. An inkling of my humanity came back to me for a moment, registering in my mind that killing a human was a bad thing. But my instincts took over again and I didn't care.
Alice and Edward should have known. They shouldn't have left me alone in this store, no matter how much I hated being babysat by them. They should have realized that I wasn't yet ready. That my previous lifestyle was still fresh in my mind. That I was still a killer, a monster.
And why hadn't Alice seen this coming? Why hadn't she gone with me just to make sure everything would be fine? Was she so focused on Bella that she didn't care what happened to me? No, I couldn't believe that. Alice loved me. She would throw me to the wolves.
But then, what could explain her reason for not being here? Even now as I pondered different ways of killing this young, innocent girl? She should have seen it by now. She should have known.
The less civilized part of my mind sent out a wave of comfort for Whitney. I no longer wanted her to leave. I mixed the comfort with a curiosity and an attraction to get her to come back. She still hadn't fully taken the step away from me.
I knew it was now or never. I needed to make her death quick so that she couldn't alert anyone to my presence. I scanned the ceilings for the security cameras. There was only one black orb attached to the ceiling near us, but my sharp vision told me that the camera was pointed the opposite way. The revolutions were slow for the cameras in this store. I often tried to avoid them when I came here, so I knew that I had exactly twenty-five seconds until the camera would rotate to face me. Twenty-five seconds to kill her and find some sort of escape.
The escape didn't really bother me right now. Although I knew there was but one entrance and exit to the store (which were at the front), I was not bothered with this trivial problem that I would solve once the dirty task had been accomplished.
I took a step toward her… and froze. Something like a brick wall slammed into my mind and I couldn't move from the shock of it. It was as if the electric pulses in my brain had shorted out and couldn't get a message to my legs to move forward. Whitney had barely taken her first step away from me.
Surprised by this sudden "walled" feeling, I paused in my attack. What was going on? I focused my vision on Whitney and my instinctual thoughts were irate. She was getting away.
"You can do it, Jasper. You won't hurt her."
The voice startled me. I quickly looked around, but Alice was nowhere in sight or in the range of my hearing, which was a good mile or two. How had she spoken to me? As far as I knew, none of my vampiric family was able to insert thoughts into another's mind like Edward was able to read them from someone's mind. This was a feat that had not yet been accomplished by any vampire I knew of. How then?
I felt the wall loosen and inched my body forward when another shield came up around the helpless, human girl standing in front of me.
"Be strong, Jasper. I know you can do it."
"Where are you?!" I demanded in my mind. I had convinced myself I was being tricked. It was as if someone somewhere was watching me and I couldn't see them or hear them. I took another step forward.
There was not a wall that stopped me this time. There was a picture. An image in front of my mind's eye, obscuring the view of Whitney just beyond the picture.
The picture I saw was Alice. She was perfect in every way, of course. Her pale, granite skin glowed lightly in the artificial lights of the store. Her short, spiky black hair was styled as it always was, sticking out in every direction. Her full, red lips were stretched wide in a smile that showed her brilliant, white teeth. And her golden eyes… were staring at my dark, black ones.
She did not stare at me in horror or disgust. There was no look of disappointment on her features. Instead, her smile was reassuring. Comforting. As if she did think I was strong enough… somehow. As if she didn't see me as a monster or a murderer. As if she knew something that I did not yet.
"I love you, Jasper." The image whispered to me. Her voice was so clear, so beautiful in my mind. It was almost like she was actually there with me. My eyes flickered from the image of my beautiful wife to the innocent girl that was still facing away from me. The hunger rose up again, nearly throwing me over the edge.
But I concentrated on Alice. Beautiful Alice. The one who'd always believed in me from the beginning. Even when I had not known her, Alice had believed in me. She knew I wasn't a monster. She knew I didn't want a lifestyle of torture and murder. And she helped me attain what I desired most: to be loved. Truly loved, too. Not loved for my power or strength or intelligence. Loved for who I was, no matter who that may be.
I felt my body relax slightly as her face still stared back at me, never blinking once. I straightened my slightly-hunched position and closed my lips.
"Hold your breath." Alice and I both told my mind. I immediately cut off all air flow into my lungs. It was difficult at first. I desired to smell the girl's blood again. But I managed to keep myself from breathing. The venom in my mouth, the ache in my stomach, it all began to recede as my humanity began taking dominance once more.
I cut off all emotional vibes I was sending out and watched Whitney take a few more steps away as Alice's image began to vanish from my vision. The girl turned once to look at me with a soft smile.
I smiled back.
"Well done, Jasper," Alice's voice praised in my head, "I am proud."
I closed my eyes and smiled. Perhaps I didn't need Alice or Edward's physical appearance with me after all. Perhaps they were both right. Perhaps they had been right all along, and I had never given myself a chance. Perhaps I was stronger than I thought.
Murphy's Law was my constant companion. But now I know how to deal with my little friend.
I would not be a killer. I would not be a monster. Not today, not ever.
.:Psycho:.
Written in 2008 to go along with this picture I drew: http://supercoolninjagrl.deviantart.com/art/Psycho-97607571
WARNING: Rated R for gruesome images and gore
DISCLAIMER: A.J. Courman is a werewolf. She is MY character. If I see anyone using her or another character that resembles her too closely without my permission, I will consider you a thief, hunt you down, and KILL YOU. "Psycho" lyrics are (c) to Puddles of Mudd
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Maybe I'm the one who is the schizophrenic psycho.
I raised my hand to my face, taking in the full image of the beating heart in my hand. It was still amazing to me how the human body could survive for just a short second after its main control was ripped from it. It was also amazing how this muscle, this organ sitting in my palm, was still moving... still pushing blood to the arteries that no longer existed.
Slowly, the beating came to a dead halt and relaxed, the heart becoming a ball of mush in my palm. The blood dripped from the shredded veins and arteries through my fingers to splash onto my legs underneath me.
My eyes, focused on the task at hand, shifted from the heart to the victim who no longer owned it. Such a pretty, young face. His flesh was still pink with color, not yet taking on that look of death. His eyes were closed, thank goodness. I wasn't sure if I could take staring at his eyes.
The only problem with the beautiful picture before me was the gaping hole in his chest. The one that was sputtering blood like some sort of gurgling fountain that had a kink in the pipe. Past the red liquid that stained his white tee shirt, I could see the off-white color of bone. His ribs. I had had to crack a few of them before my hand would fit through the hole to rip out his heart.
I felt a sudden pang of guilt and remorse for the poor, young man, but it was quickly swept away as a new feeling entered my mind. Glee. Excitement. Thrill.
Somewhere, in the back of my suppressed conscience, I knew that such feelings in this situation would be considered monstrous, evil, abominable. I was a killer, a murderer.
That word registered in my mind for a moment as a bad thing, but again, with instincts overriding my brain, it was gone just as quickly.
I knew that once I woke up from this nightmare I would be horrified. I would cry for hours upon hours, re-living this memory again and again. I wouldn't eat for another full month until my disgusting and wretched fate seized me once more. I would suffer. I would hate myself.
I was beginning to become accustomed to this. Nine years of hatred toward myself. Nine years of suffering. It was normal for me.
Even now, as I turned my palm over and let the dead organ slip from my hand, I knew that this was all my fault. This death, among others, were all because of one choice. One small decision I had made when I was a child.
The heart landed with a squishy, wet sound on top of his chest. I raised my hand to my face and smeared his blood down my cheek. This action was not my conscious doing, but that of my master's. He liked to rub it in a bit- as if I weren't suffering enough.
Anubis was only good for one thing. He blocked emotions. I suppose that's how I could be such a cold-hearted killing machine. I never felt remorse, never felt guilt or sadness during the hunt. Those emotions would distract me from my goal. So Anubis took care of that by wiping my mind clean of all thoughts, all emotions, all free will. I was simply an animal. A tool. A machine for him to use. He would give me back my free will when the sun rose and the full moon was hidden by its light. He would give me back my thoughts, my conscience, my emotions.
And then he would sit back with a smile on his face and watch me suffer.
And it would happen all over again the next month.
WARNING: Rated R for gruesome images and gore
DISCLAIMER: A.J. Courman is a werewolf. She is MY character. If I see anyone using her or another character that resembles her too closely without my permission, I will consider you a thief, hunt you down, and KILL YOU. "Psycho" lyrics are (c) to Puddles of Mudd
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Maybe I'm the one who is the schizophrenic psycho.
I raised my hand to my face, taking in the full image of the beating heart in my hand. It was still amazing to me how the human body could survive for just a short second after its main control was ripped from it. It was also amazing how this muscle, this organ sitting in my palm, was still moving... still pushing blood to the arteries that no longer existed.
Slowly, the beating came to a dead halt and relaxed, the heart becoming a ball of mush in my palm. The blood dripped from the shredded veins and arteries through my fingers to splash onto my legs underneath me.
My eyes, focused on the task at hand, shifted from the heart to the victim who no longer owned it. Such a pretty, young face. His flesh was still pink with color, not yet taking on that look of death. His eyes were closed, thank goodness. I wasn't sure if I could take staring at his eyes.
The only problem with the beautiful picture before me was the gaping hole in his chest. The one that was sputtering blood like some sort of gurgling fountain that had a kink in the pipe. Past the red liquid that stained his white tee shirt, I could see the off-white color of bone. His ribs. I had had to crack a few of them before my hand would fit through the hole to rip out his heart.
I felt a sudden pang of guilt and remorse for the poor, young man, but it was quickly swept away as a new feeling entered my mind. Glee. Excitement. Thrill.
Somewhere, in the back of my suppressed conscience, I knew that such feelings in this situation would be considered monstrous, evil, abominable. I was a killer, a murderer.
That word registered in my mind for a moment as a bad thing, but again, with instincts overriding my brain, it was gone just as quickly.
I knew that once I woke up from this nightmare I would be horrified. I would cry for hours upon hours, re-living this memory again and again. I wouldn't eat for another full month until my disgusting and wretched fate seized me once more. I would suffer. I would hate myself.
I was beginning to become accustomed to this. Nine years of hatred toward myself. Nine years of suffering. It was normal for me.
Even now, as I turned my palm over and let the dead organ slip from my hand, I knew that this was all my fault. This death, among others, were all because of one choice. One small decision I had made when I was a child.
The heart landed with a squishy, wet sound on top of his chest. I raised my hand to my face and smeared his blood down my cheek. This action was not my conscious doing, but that of my master's. He liked to rub it in a bit- as if I weren't suffering enough.
Anubis was only good for one thing. He blocked emotions. I suppose that's how I could be such a cold-hearted killing machine. I never felt remorse, never felt guilt or sadness during the hunt. Those emotions would distract me from my goal. So Anubis took care of that by wiping my mind clean of all thoughts, all emotions, all free will. I was simply an animal. A tool. A machine for him to use. He would give me back my free will when the sun rose and the full moon was hidden by its light. He would give me back my thoughts, my conscience, my emotions.
And then he would sit back with a smile on his face and watch me suffer.
And it would happen all over again the next month.
.:Detention:.
Written in 2008 from my friend's character's perspective, Kai.
DISCLAIMER: A.J. Courman is a werewolf. She is MY character. If I see anyone using her or another character that resembles her too closely without my permission, I will consider you a thief, hunt you down, and KILL YOU. Ahem. Kaitso (Kai) Atokata is a werewolf also. He belongs to TheeBycth/Howla, a good friend of mine, and is used WITH permission. Same rules for this character, peeps. Thanks very much!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kai walked into the classroom just as cold and stiff as he ever was. His amber eyes kept their icy, hawk-like glare as he scanned the crowd in the room. It was small today, that was unusual, he mused. Only two students sat at the very front of the row of desks, directly in front of Mr. Lancer's desk. The balding teacher who was taking over detention for Mrs. Grimshow looked up from his copy of "Journey To The Center Of The Earth". He smirked at Kai and stood up from his seat.
"Glad you could make it, Mr. Atokata," greeted the heavy-set teacher. Kai didn't respond, just stared at Mr. Lancer. "You may have a seat." Mr. Lancer hinted with an annoyed tone to his voice. The two students in front turned ever-so-slightly to steal a glance at the boy who dared act defiant against their teacher. They were met with a soul-piercing glare from Kai that quickly turned the students' heads away once more.
Kai said nothing as he took his seat at the back of the classroom.
"You will not speak." Mr. Lancer began pacing up and down the center aisle of the room slapping a ruler into his palm repeatedly with every step he took. "You will not clown around. You will do your homework and when you are finished you will sit there and stare at the wall." He glanced around the room, feeling confident and in-charge. "There will be no laughing, no sleeping, no doodling, no humming." He smiled. "And I can add to that list if I need to."
Mr. Lancer slapped the ruler down loudly on Kai's desk, attempting to startle the boy. But Kai simply ignored him, opening his Algebra textbook. Mr. Lancer frowned and turned back to his desk. He began to walk away when the door to the classroom opened. The teacher and the students in front turned around to see who had come in.
Kai didn't. As soon as the door had swung open, he recognized her scent. He didn't look up from his homework as she brushed by his desk to walk up to Mr. Lancer.
It was the "spunky" girl. The annoyingly hyper, talkative girl he'd run into last night. The one that wouldn't shut up and wouldn't stop following him. He glanced up only to see her back. Long, raven hair streaked with an odd hue of neon blue. Black and red, long-sleeved shirt and blue jeans. She had her backpack slung over one shoulder and had her free hand on her hip.
"Late as always." Mr. Lancer observed, smiling. "That's what got you detention in the first place, Miss Courman. Perhaps you need more tomorrow."
"Mrs. Becker already gave me detention tomorrow for throwing a frog at Star in Science class." The girl replied.
Kai smirked. Throwing frogs? He'd done better.
"Fine." Mr. Lancer snapped. "Then the next day-"
"Already have it for stuffing sloppy joes down Dash Baxter's pants." The girl chuckled. "Actually, I have a whole week for that one."
Kai's smirk widened. Okay, so that one was pretty good...
"Well, when exactly are you free?!" Mr. Lancer shouted. The girl reached into her pocket and pulled out a small booklet. Kai raised an eyebrow. A yearly planner?
She flipped through the first couple pages. "Let's see. April's all taken up, May's no good... uh..."
"The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn!" Mr. Lancer cried, throwing his hands up in the air. "Just take your seat!"
The girl slid the booklet back in her pocket and turned away from the teacher. Kai was expecting to see a smirk or grin of success, but that's not what he saw. As the green-eyed girl turned in his general direction, he could see a look of sadness or regret on her porcelain-colored face. He found himself looking at her strangely with his head tilted. He didn't even know why he'd received detention today. Many of his teachers just didn't like him despite the fact that he was the smartest student in each of his classes... and probably the smartest in the town... or even in the state.
What was her reason for looking so upset? Detention wasn't that bad.
The girl sat down at the back of the classroom, four desks away from him. She slung her backpack on the floor and sighed.
"I trust you know the rules already, Ashley." Mr. Lancer said calmly as he sat back down. "You are here all the time."
"It's A.J." The girl grumbled under her breath. Mr. Lancer didn't hear, but Kai did. Kai continued to look at A.J. without realizing it until she glanced up at him curiously. His eyes widened and he immediately looked away.
She was about as pale as he was and sickly thin. She had the brightest green eyes he'd ever seen in his life with the only flaw on her face being that strange, crescent-shaped red scar that ran down her left eye. Although, that was usually covered by her floppy bangs.
Kai blinked and furrowed his eyebrows, realizing for the first time that he'd been thinking about her non-stop since she'd walked in the door.
Idiot. He thought to himself. He shouldn't be thinking about her. She was annoying, hyper, too loud and talkative, beautiful, funny and...
He shook his head, rubbing his eyes. Where had those thoughts come from? That wasn't like him at all.
"Mr. Atokata, is there a problem?" Mr. Lancer asked, seeing Kai shaking his head. The boy looked up at the teacher with a surprised look on his face instead of his emotionless mask.
"Of course not, Mr. Lancer." He said coolly, flickering his eyes back down to his Algebra book.
Kai kept his mind busy with concentrating on his homework, getting it done much faster than usual. The room was silent at all times except for Mr. Lancer who would periodically make noises relating to how he was feeling about the part of the book he was reading.
When Kai ran out of homework, he cursed under his breath. Now he had nothing to do for the next half hour. Usually, on those odd occasions when he'd get detention, he'd take his time to get through his work so that he wouldn't be bored. Now he had nothing to do and plenty of time to think.
Absentmindedly, his eyes wandered over to A.J. again. He saw her head laying in one hand while she tapped the end of her pencil silently against her textbook, looking very hard and intent at the ceiling. Either she was trying to figure out the answer to a question, or she was trying to count the number of tiles in the ceiling.
Kai had already done that the first day he'd gotten detention. There were one hundred and seventy-five. It was just simple math. He smiled inside, his lips never moved. She was concentrating hard on something.
Then, once again, she dropped her eyes and glanced at him. She looked scared this time, maybe because he was looking at her so intently. He purposely used the cold glare he always had, on everyone so that they'd leave him alone. Was he giving it to her by accident? Kai quickly screwed up his eyes and looked away.
Great Atokata, He chastened himself. Now you've made yourself look like a moron in front of her.
He paused, staring at his desk. He... cared? He actually cared about what she thought of him?
No, that wasn't right. That wasn't right at all. Kai messaged his forehead in frustration, trying to grasp onto the thoughts that usually came and went when a girl was around. Annoying. Troublesome. Annoying.
He glanced back over quickly to see that she was leaning over her book again, shoulders slumped. He got the feeling that he'd made her feel even worse. She didn't exactly look like the confident-type. He leaned over his desk and laid his head in his hands.
Her face wouldn't get out of his mind. His eyes twitched in annoyance at it. He didn't even like her, why was this happening? Kai gritted his teeth and looked back toward her desk. She was looking at him again with a confused expression.
Her mouth moved, forming the silent words, "Are you okay?".
He blinked, not sure what expression was on his face. Even after he'd glared at her several times today and treated her like a pest yesterday she still insisted on talking to him. She even cared... What kind of weird freak had he mixed up with?
"Fine." He mouthed back. "Why?"
Seemingly excited that he actually answered her, A.J. smiled and glanced at Lancer. The teacher was enthralled with his book so much that he didn't see the paper football A.J. flung across the room to Kai's desk.
Kai sat up, staring curiously at the triangular-shaped piece of paper that had landed on his textbook. He quietly opened it up. On the inside, in her own messy handwriting, read, "No reason."
Kai smirked and shook his head, digging a pen out of his pocket. He scribbled down, "Okay" on the paper and folded it back up. With one well-aimed flick of his finger, the paper soared across the room and A.J. snatched it out of the air.
She quickly unfolded the paper and read his response. Then she frowned. Looking irritated, she wrote down something else and returned the paper.
"You can't reply with more than one word?" It said. Kai raised an eyebrow and scribbled down a smart response, sending the paper flailing through the air again.
A.J. opened it up and read it, frowning again, "Fine, here's more than one word: leave me alone." Was Kai's response.
He smirked, rolling his eyes. That would shut her up, he was sure of it. Now all he had to do was keep his mind occupied somehow so he wouldn't have those weird, stupid thoughts. But just as he was about to decide what he'd have for dinner, another paper landed in front of him. Kai gritted his teeth. She really was a pest.
He opened up the paper slowly. "You're rude." Was the newest addition to their message. He sighed. She'd just send it at him again if he replied, so...
Kai crumpled up the piece of paper- received an annoyed glance from Mr. Lancer for the noise- and shoved the wad of paper in his pocket. He smirked and looked at her out of the side of his eye.
A.J. was frowning at him. She rolled her eyes and looked away.
Kai frowned again. He'd made her mad. Poor, annoying little pest...
Wait! He shouted at himself, gritting his teeth again. No pity! What are you doing?! He ran his fingers through his hair and then pulled at the white, spiky locks, trying to distract himself.
"Mr. Atokata, are you trying to test my patience?" Mr. Lancer put his book down. Kai looked up at him.
"Can I go to the nurse's office?" He asked, gritting his teeth and screwing up his eyes. Mr. Lancer grimaced at his expression.
"I don't think she's still here-" Before the teacher could finish his sentence, Kai was out the door. A.J. blinked, cocking her head at the swinging door that he'd exited out of.
Kai shook his head, opening and closing his eyes at random intervals. "Stupid! What are you doing?!" He shouted at himself. The hallways were empty. He stopped at a set of lockers and eyed them, as if contemplating something. Kai slammed his forehead against a locker door, causing it to dent so bad that the door actually came off. He rubbed his forehead. "That wasn't the greatest idea I've had." He mumbled, but at least he was focused on the pain rather than her now. He smiled, satisfied and tried to continue down the hall. His head was throbbing and he was dizzy so it looked more like he was a drunk walking down the hall rather than a student. As he turned the corner to go to the nurse's office...
"Are you okay?"
"Aaaahhh!!" Kai stumbled backwards. A.J. stood in front of him, blinking and cocking her head at him.
She smiled softly.
"What are you doing?!" Kai shouted.
A.J. held up a piece of paper. "Hall pass. I came to see if you were all right. You were freaking out pretty badly in detent-"
"I was not freaking out." Kai growled in response, pushing past her. A.J. stumbled into the wall. "Leave me alone." He wobbled a bit as he walked, but he didn't hear her following. When he stopped and turned around, she was no longer there. He swiveled back around to keep walking and then yelped in surprise. Yet again, she was standing there, looking at him.
"You really should work on your people skills." She said in that nagging, girly voice. She had her hands on her hips, looking at him.
"Why do you insist on bugging me?" Kai asked, clenching his fists.
"Why do you insist on being rude?" A.J. retorted. His eyes flashed.
"Go away."
"Can't make me." She crossed her arms, smiled, and stuck out her tongue.
Wanna bet? Kai thought, itching to just smack the annoyance away like a mosquito. "What do you want from me?" He asked through his teeth.
"How about a hello? Or an excuse me? Or something like that?" A.J. suggested. "That would be a good start."
Kai smirked and laughed once without humor. "I've never given anyone that. You won't be the first." He turned back around to go back to detention.
"See you later, Kai." A.J. called after him cheerily. He furrowed his eyebrows and stopped walking again. Even after all of that, she still talked to him like a normal human being? She didn't get mad? She... remembered his name?
He blushed and turned his head to look at her, but she was already gone.
"Stupid girl," He muttered, continuing down the hall with his hands in his pockets. "Why do you have to be so stubborn?"
He smiled to himself.
DISCLAIMER: A.J. Courman is a werewolf. She is MY character. If I see anyone using her or another character that resembles her too closely without my permission, I will consider you a thief, hunt you down, and KILL YOU. Ahem. Kaitso (Kai) Atokata is a werewolf also. He belongs to TheeBycth/Howla, a good friend of mine, and is used WITH permission. Same rules for this character, peeps. Thanks very much!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kai walked into the classroom just as cold and stiff as he ever was. His amber eyes kept their icy, hawk-like glare as he scanned the crowd in the room. It was small today, that was unusual, he mused. Only two students sat at the very front of the row of desks, directly in front of Mr. Lancer's desk. The balding teacher who was taking over detention for Mrs. Grimshow looked up from his copy of "Journey To The Center Of The Earth". He smirked at Kai and stood up from his seat.
"Glad you could make it, Mr. Atokata," greeted the heavy-set teacher. Kai didn't respond, just stared at Mr. Lancer. "You may have a seat." Mr. Lancer hinted with an annoyed tone to his voice. The two students in front turned ever-so-slightly to steal a glance at the boy who dared act defiant against their teacher. They were met with a soul-piercing glare from Kai that quickly turned the students' heads away once more.
Kai said nothing as he took his seat at the back of the classroom.
"You will not speak." Mr. Lancer began pacing up and down the center aisle of the room slapping a ruler into his palm repeatedly with every step he took. "You will not clown around. You will do your homework and when you are finished you will sit there and stare at the wall." He glanced around the room, feeling confident and in-charge. "There will be no laughing, no sleeping, no doodling, no humming." He smiled. "And I can add to that list if I need to."
Mr. Lancer slapped the ruler down loudly on Kai's desk, attempting to startle the boy. But Kai simply ignored him, opening his Algebra textbook. Mr. Lancer frowned and turned back to his desk. He began to walk away when the door to the classroom opened. The teacher and the students in front turned around to see who had come in.
Kai didn't. As soon as the door had swung open, he recognized her scent. He didn't look up from his homework as she brushed by his desk to walk up to Mr. Lancer.
It was the "spunky" girl. The annoyingly hyper, talkative girl he'd run into last night. The one that wouldn't shut up and wouldn't stop following him. He glanced up only to see her back. Long, raven hair streaked with an odd hue of neon blue. Black and red, long-sleeved shirt and blue jeans. She had her backpack slung over one shoulder and had her free hand on her hip.
"Late as always." Mr. Lancer observed, smiling. "That's what got you detention in the first place, Miss Courman. Perhaps you need more tomorrow."
"Mrs. Becker already gave me detention tomorrow for throwing a frog at Star in Science class." The girl replied.
Kai smirked. Throwing frogs? He'd done better.
"Fine." Mr. Lancer snapped. "Then the next day-"
"Already have it for stuffing sloppy joes down Dash Baxter's pants." The girl chuckled. "Actually, I have a whole week for that one."
Kai's smirk widened. Okay, so that one was pretty good...
"Well, when exactly are you free?!" Mr. Lancer shouted. The girl reached into her pocket and pulled out a small booklet. Kai raised an eyebrow. A yearly planner?
She flipped through the first couple pages. "Let's see. April's all taken up, May's no good... uh..."
"The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn!" Mr. Lancer cried, throwing his hands up in the air. "Just take your seat!"
The girl slid the booklet back in her pocket and turned away from the teacher. Kai was expecting to see a smirk or grin of success, but that's not what he saw. As the green-eyed girl turned in his general direction, he could see a look of sadness or regret on her porcelain-colored face. He found himself looking at her strangely with his head tilted. He didn't even know why he'd received detention today. Many of his teachers just didn't like him despite the fact that he was the smartest student in each of his classes... and probably the smartest in the town... or even in the state.
What was her reason for looking so upset? Detention wasn't that bad.
The girl sat down at the back of the classroom, four desks away from him. She slung her backpack on the floor and sighed.
"I trust you know the rules already, Ashley." Mr. Lancer said calmly as he sat back down. "You are here all the time."
"It's A.J." The girl grumbled under her breath. Mr. Lancer didn't hear, but Kai did. Kai continued to look at A.J. without realizing it until she glanced up at him curiously. His eyes widened and he immediately looked away.
She was about as pale as he was and sickly thin. She had the brightest green eyes he'd ever seen in his life with the only flaw on her face being that strange, crescent-shaped red scar that ran down her left eye. Although, that was usually covered by her floppy bangs.
Kai blinked and furrowed his eyebrows, realizing for the first time that he'd been thinking about her non-stop since she'd walked in the door.
Idiot. He thought to himself. He shouldn't be thinking about her. She was annoying, hyper, too loud and talkative, beautiful, funny and...
He shook his head, rubbing his eyes. Where had those thoughts come from? That wasn't like him at all.
"Mr. Atokata, is there a problem?" Mr. Lancer asked, seeing Kai shaking his head. The boy looked up at the teacher with a surprised look on his face instead of his emotionless mask.
"Of course not, Mr. Lancer." He said coolly, flickering his eyes back down to his Algebra book.
Kai kept his mind busy with concentrating on his homework, getting it done much faster than usual. The room was silent at all times except for Mr. Lancer who would periodically make noises relating to how he was feeling about the part of the book he was reading.
When Kai ran out of homework, he cursed under his breath. Now he had nothing to do for the next half hour. Usually, on those odd occasions when he'd get detention, he'd take his time to get through his work so that he wouldn't be bored. Now he had nothing to do and plenty of time to think.
Absentmindedly, his eyes wandered over to A.J. again. He saw her head laying in one hand while she tapped the end of her pencil silently against her textbook, looking very hard and intent at the ceiling. Either she was trying to figure out the answer to a question, or she was trying to count the number of tiles in the ceiling.
Kai had already done that the first day he'd gotten detention. There were one hundred and seventy-five. It was just simple math. He smiled inside, his lips never moved. She was concentrating hard on something.
Then, once again, she dropped her eyes and glanced at him. She looked scared this time, maybe because he was looking at her so intently. He purposely used the cold glare he always had, on everyone so that they'd leave him alone. Was he giving it to her by accident? Kai quickly screwed up his eyes and looked away.
Great Atokata, He chastened himself. Now you've made yourself look like a moron in front of her.
He paused, staring at his desk. He... cared? He actually cared about what she thought of him?
No, that wasn't right. That wasn't right at all. Kai messaged his forehead in frustration, trying to grasp onto the thoughts that usually came and went when a girl was around. Annoying. Troublesome. Annoying.
He glanced back over quickly to see that she was leaning over her book again, shoulders slumped. He got the feeling that he'd made her feel even worse. She didn't exactly look like the confident-type. He leaned over his desk and laid his head in his hands.
Her face wouldn't get out of his mind. His eyes twitched in annoyance at it. He didn't even like her, why was this happening? Kai gritted his teeth and looked back toward her desk. She was looking at him again with a confused expression.
Her mouth moved, forming the silent words, "Are you okay?".
He blinked, not sure what expression was on his face. Even after he'd glared at her several times today and treated her like a pest yesterday she still insisted on talking to him. She even cared... What kind of weird freak had he mixed up with?
"Fine." He mouthed back. "Why?"
Seemingly excited that he actually answered her, A.J. smiled and glanced at Lancer. The teacher was enthralled with his book so much that he didn't see the paper football A.J. flung across the room to Kai's desk.
Kai sat up, staring curiously at the triangular-shaped piece of paper that had landed on his textbook. He quietly opened it up. On the inside, in her own messy handwriting, read, "No reason."
Kai smirked and shook his head, digging a pen out of his pocket. He scribbled down, "Okay" on the paper and folded it back up. With one well-aimed flick of his finger, the paper soared across the room and A.J. snatched it out of the air.
She quickly unfolded the paper and read his response. Then she frowned. Looking irritated, she wrote down something else and returned the paper.
"You can't reply with more than one word?" It said. Kai raised an eyebrow and scribbled down a smart response, sending the paper flailing through the air again.
A.J. opened it up and read it, frowning again, "Fine, here's more than one word: leave me alone." Was Kai's response.
He smirked, rolling his eyes. That would shut her up, he was sure of it. Now all he had to do was keep his mind occupied somehow so he wouldn't have those weird, stupid thoughts. But just as he was about to decide what he'd have for dinner, another paper landed in front of him. Kai gritted his teeth. She really was a pest.
He opened up the paper slowly. "You're rude." Was the newest addition to their message. He sighed. She'd just send it at him again if he replied, so...
Kai crumpled up the piece of paper- received an annoyed glance from Mr. Lancer for the noise- and shoved the wad of paper in his pocket. He smirked and looked at her out of the side of his eye.
A.J. was frowning at him. She rolled her eyes and looked away.
Kai frowned again. He'd made her mad. Poor, annoying little pest...
Wait! He shouted at himself, gritting his teeth again. No pity! What are you doing?! He ran his fingers through his hair and then pulled at the white, spiky locks, trying to distract himself.
"Mr. Atokata, are you trying to test my patience?" Mr. Lancer put his book down. Kai looked up at him.
"Can I go to the nurse's office?" He asked, gritting his teeth and screwing up his eyes. Mr. Lancer grimaced at his expression.
"I don't think she's still here-" Before the teacher could finish his sentence, Kai was out the door. A.J. blinked, cocking her head at the swinging door that he'd exited out of.
Kai shook his head, opening and closing his eyes at random intervals. "Stupid! What are you doing?!" He shouted at himself. The hallways were empty. He stopped at a set of lockers and eyed them, as if contemplating something. Kai slammed his forehead against a locker door, causing it to dent so bad that the door actually came off. He rubbed his forehead. "That wasn't the greatest idea I've had." He mumbled, but at least he was focused on the pain rather than her now. He smiled, satisfied and tried to continue down the hall. His head was throbbing and he was dizzy so it looked more like he was a drunk walking down the hall rather than a student. As he turned the corner to go to the nurse's office...
"Are you okay?"
"Aaaahhh!!" Kai stumbled backwards. A.J. stood in front of him, blinking and cocking her head at him.
She smiled softly.
"What are you doing?!" Kai shouted.
A.J. held up a piece of paper. "Hall pass. I came to see if you were all right. You were freaking out pretty badly in detent-"
"I was not freaking out." Kai growled in response, pushing past her. A.J. stumbled into the wall. "Leave me alone." He wobbled a bit as he walked, but he didn't hear her following. When he stopped and turned around, she was no longer there. He swiveled back around to keep walking and then yelped in surprise. Yet again, she was standing there, looking at him.
"You really should work on your people skills." She said in that nagging, girly voice. She had her hands on her hips, looking at him.
"Why do you insist on bugging me?" Kai asked, clenching his fists.
"Why do you insist on being rude?" A.J. retorted. His eyes flashed.
"Go away."
"Can't make me." She crossed her arms, smiled, and stuck out her tongue.
Wanna bet? Kai thought, itching to just smack the annoyance away like a mosquito. "What do you want from me?" He asked through his teeth.
"How about a hello? Or an excuse me? Or something like that?" A.J. suggested. "That would be a good start."
Kai smirked and laughed once without humor. "I've never given anyone that. You won't be the first." He turned back around to go back to detention.
"See you later, Kai." A.J. called after him cheerily. He furrowed his eyebrows and stopped walking again. Even after all of that, she still talked to him like a normal human being? She didn't get mad? She... remembered his name?
He blushed and turned his head to look at her, but she was already gone.
"Stupid girl," He muttered, continuing down the hall with his hands in his pockets. "Why do you have to be so stubborn?"
He smiled to himself.
+Musings+
A poem I wrote back in 2008.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A new world unfolds
At my fingertips.
Dragons fly high
as I write my scripts.
Vampires creep
As black as night,
cackling loud
As they take flight.
In the dark forests,
Werewolves howl
with glowing, red eyes
slavering, they prowl.
Ghosts fly above,
glow a magical green.
It happens all year,
not just Halloween.
They each have lives,
their own stories to tell.
Some come from heaven,
some straight from hell.
But wherever they're from,
doesn't matter to me.
Because I'm in control
of their destiny.
They squabble and fight.
I type more and more.
They kiss and make up,
or perhaps start a war.
Whatever I want
they surely will do,
and they will not stop,
til my story is through.
As my muse dies,
it comes to an end.
My story will pause,
til I start it again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A new world unfolds
At my fingertips.
Dragons fly high
as I write my scripts.
Vampires creep
As black as night,
cackling loud
As they take flight.
In the dark forests,
Werewolves howl
with glowing, red eyes
slavering, they prowl.
Ghosts fly above,
glow a magical green.
It happens all year,
not just Halloween.
They each have lives,
their own stories to tell.
Some come from heaven,
some straight from hell.
But wherever they're from,
doesn't matter to me.
Because I'm in control
of their destiny.
They squabble and fight.
I type more and more.
They kiss and make up,
or perhaps start a war.
Whatever I want
they surely will do,
and they will not stop,
til my story is through.
As my muse dies,
it comes to an end.
My story will pause,
til I start it again.
.:Mine:.
This was written in 2008. It's another short story involving my character, A.J., and my friend's character, Kai.
DISCLAIMER: A.J. Courman is a werewolf. She is MY character. If I see anyone using her or another character that resembles her too closely without my permission, I will consider you a thief, hunt you down, and KILL YOU. Ahem. Kaitso (Kai) Atokata is a werewolf also. He belongs to TheeBycth/Howla, a good friend of mine, and is used WITH permission. Same rules for this character, peeps. Thanks very much!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He isn't perfect. I can vouch for that.
He isn't the nicest person in the world and his language can get colorful. His hands aren't soft when he holds me- they're rough and calloused from working all day to support his household... which is constantly fluctuating. His "friends", if that's what you want to call them, drift in and out uninvited and unexpected, eat and sleep and then leave him with a dirty house and no food.
But he doesn't complain. I don't know what goes on in his head, because he never voices his opinion. He just... deals with it.
I don't know how he manages to stay alive. He's either working to make end's meet, working his ass off in school or saving my butt from some ghost that attacks the town. He doesn't want to be a nobody, even if that's what society views him as.
At least I have a name for myself, but he doesn't even have that. I knew who my parents were and I still have a family member left. But he... doesn't have anyone. He doesn't even know if "Kaitso Atokata" is his real name. Maybe that's why he's so cold, so distant from everyone all the time. Things have never been good for him.
But... he's not the same with me. With me, I can see a glimpse of who Kai used to be. Of who he was before Zamorax and life had ruined him. There's life in his eyes when I talk to him, a spring in his step. Is it because of me, I wonder? Could I, A.J. Courman, have that effect on someone? I don't know because he'll never talk to me about it. Even though we hug like good friends and joke around with each other, I still don't know if he feels the same way about me that I feel about him.
He's stubborn. He can be a jerk. He's cold. So why do I care about him so much? Because I can see through the emotionless mask he wears to protect himself. I can see his feelings even when nobody else can. I can understand the hardships he goes through because I suffer through my life... even if it's not as bad as his.
That's why I love him. That's why I'd risk my life just to protect him like I know he would with me. That's why I even bother to talk to him everyday even when I know I'll just get brushed off or stared at. Because he's stubborn. Because he's not perfect. Because he's Kaitso Atokata.
And he's mine.
DISCLAIMER: A.J. Courman is a werewolf. She is MY character. If I see anyone using her or another character that resembles her too closely without my permission, I will consider you a thief, hunt you down, and KILL YOU. Ahem. Kaitso (Kai) Atokata is a werewolf also. He belongs to TheeBycth/Howla, a good friend of mine, and is used WITH permission. Same rules for this character, peeps. Thanks very much!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He isn't perfect. I can vouch for that.
He isn't the nicest person in the world and his language can get colorful. His hands aren't soft when he holds me- they're rough and calloused from working all day to support his household... which is constantly fluctuating. His "friends", if that's what you want to call them, drift in and out uninvited and unexpected, eat and sleep and then leave him with a dirty house and no food.
But he doesn't complain. I don't know what goes on in his head, because he never voices his opinion. He just... deals with it.
I don't know how he manages to stay alive. He's either working to make end's meet, working his ass off in school or saving my butt from some ghost that attacks the town. He doesn't want to be a nobody, even if that's what society views him as.
At least I have a name for myself, but he doesn't even have that. I knew who my parents were and I still have a family member left. But he... doesn't have anyone. He doesn't even know if "Kaitso Atokata" is his real name. Maybe that's why he's so cold, so distant from everyone all the time. Things have never been good for him.
But... he's not the same with me. With me, I can see a glimpse of who Kai used to be. Of who he was before Zamorax and life had ruined him. There's life in his eyes when I talk to him, a spring in his step. Is it because of me, I wonder? Could I, A.J. Courman, have that effect on someone? I don't know because he'll never talk to me about it. Even though we hug like good friends and joke around with each other, I still don't know if he feels the same way about me that I feel about him.
He's stubborn. He can be a jerk. He's cold. So why do I care about him so much? Because I can see through the emotionless mask he wears to protect himself. I can see his feelings even when nobody else can. I can understand the hardships he goes through because I suffer through my life... even if it's not as bad as his.
That's why I love him. That's why I'd risk my life just to protect him like I know he would with me. That's why I even bother to talk to him everyday even when I know I'll just get brushed off or stared at. Because he's stubborn. Because he's not perfect. Because he's Kaitso Atokata.
And he's mine.
.:Flu:.
This was written back in 2007. The character, Raiden, is mine. Lilly belongs to my friend, MikeyCam. "Grasshopper" is the nickname Raiden has given to Lilly. Rekka is Raiden's twin sister. She belongs to another friend of mine, Howla. Neil is Lilly's older brother. He belongs to MikeyCam. Lilly and Neil are both half-ghost offspring of Danny Fenton from the cartoon, Danny Phantom. Raiden and Rekka are werewolves.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Lilly!" Raiden called from the living room.
Lilly rolled her eyes and huffed her breath.
"Hang on, you big baby!" She shouted back.
"Come on, Lilly. I don't need that. Come back in here and gimme back the remote!" He whined.
Lilly smirked slightly and poured the hot tea into the mug. She walked carefully into the living room and set the cup on the table in front of him.
Raiden looked down at the cup and then up at her, blinking. "Tea?" He asked.
Lilly just smiled and sat down in the rocking chair opposite the coffee table. "It'll help."
Raiden sneezed and wrapped himself tighter with the blanket. "I don't need it."
"Yes you do. Ray, it'll help. You're sick."
"I told Rekka this was a bad idea." Raiden complained, bringing his knees up to his chest. Lilly laughed.
"She had plans with Neil. She didn't need you hacking all over her."
"But I could have stayed home...." He sniveled, taking a tissue out of its box and blowing his nose. Lilly leaned forward in her seat and frowned.
"Yeah. If she'd left you at home you'd end up doing homework or trashing your house or something instead of resting. She brought you over to me. That means you're under my care and that means that you have to do what I tell you. Now drink your tea, Wolf Boy."
Raiden looked at her and then at the cup of tea on the table. He sighed in defeat and picked it up, sipping at it. He grimaced. "Ugh. What is this, Castor Oil?"
"Your senses are all out of wack, aren't they?" She asked. He rubbed his eyes and sipped at the drink some more. "You can't even smell it, can you?"
"No." The werewolf attempted to breathe through his nose, but couldn't. "Why? Did you poison it or something?"
Lilly just grinned that mischievous grin of hers. "Something like that."
"Oh great. My sister abandons me and now you try to kill me." Raiden grinned back, putting the cup down. "So, what'd you do to it?"
"Drink it all and I'll tell you."
"No."
"Well, you can drink it willingly and I'll tell you... or I can phase it into you. I mean, you're too sick to fight me." Lilly shrugged. "And you know what ecto-energy does to your stomach."
Raiden stuck his tongue out at her. "So you want to make me throw up before you kill me?"
"Well, you've already thrown up twice. I don't think you've got anything left in you."
"Except for this nasty tea," Raiden mumbled as he took another swig of it.
Lilly giggled. "Would you stop being such a baby? It's the Flu, Ray. Not Tuberculosis. You're not going to die."
"Until you poisoned my drink," he argued, taking another sip.
"Oh, you're so whiny. I put a sleeping pill in it, okay? It's not poison, it'll just help you relax."
Raiden grinned. "I knew I could get it out of you." He snickered and then went into a coughing fit because of it. Lilly took his half-empty cup and the tissue box and put them down on the coffee table.
"Lay down, Ray." She ordered.
"I'm fine, Li-"
"I said, lay down." She pushed on his shoulder slightly, and he fell over on his side, laying lengthwise on the couch. He pulled the blanket up around him.
"Bossy today, aren't we?" He grumbled.
"You know, you shouldn't even have that blanket. You've got a fever." Lilly leaned over him and tried to pull the blanket away from the struggling wolfa. Eventually Raiden was too tired to fight and she managed to get it from him.
"You make me drink poison and now you're trying to freeze me to death. So glad I came over here...." He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. Lilly shook her head and tossed the blanket on the rocking chair.
"Rekka was right. You do complain a lot when you're sick." She said, knealing down beside him.
"I don't get sick very much. When I do, I feel like I'm going to die." Raiden sniffed. Lilly just smiled at him.
"So, where are Rekka and Neil going anyways?" She asked.
"I don't know. Rekka said she had a school project to complete. Mom and Dad are with your parents at some sort of ghost-catching convention...." He sighed. "So we're all alone." He pretended to whimper. Lilly smiled and stood back up.
"Speaking of school... I've got to finish my homework. I'll come back and check on you later. Let that medicine kick in," she said, and took a step away.
"Lilly!" Raiden whined. "Don't leave."
"Ray, you'll be fine-"
"But you said you'd make me feel better." He pouted. "And I'd feel better if you stayed here." He gave her his "puppy-dog eyes".
Lilly put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. "Don't you give me that look." She said, but Raiden didn't stop. "Oh, fine." She walked back over to him. "What do you want me to do?"
Raiden grinned. "Turn around."
Lilly raised an eyebrow. "May I ask why?"
"Come on, Grasshopper. Just do it."
Lilly stomped her foot in irritation and turned away from him. "Now what?" She asked.
Before she could realize what was going on, Raiden had pulled her onto the couch with him, forcing her to lay on her side in front of him. She gasped sharply from the shock of it. Raiden wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back closer to his stomach.
"There. Much better." He smiled.
"Raiden, you better not get me sick." Lilly scowled, trying to release his grip on her. But he wouldn't budge.
"Come on, Grasshopper. You're warm, I'm cold. Don't move."
"Actually, your skin is burning hot." Lilly said. "It's quite uncomfortable."
"That's not why you're trying to get away." Raiden whispered. "What's wrong, Grasshopper? Don't trust me?"
Lilly swallowed hard when she felt his hot breath on her neck. "Well... I'm not too comfortable being this close to a sick, grumpy werewolf."
"You know I would never hurt you." Raiden replied.
"Intentionally." Lilly added. "You remember what happened to Neil when he was with Rekka?"
"That's different." Raiden coughed. "I have much more control than Rekka."
"Under normal circumstances, maybe." Lilly said. "But you're body's weak right now."
Raiden grinned. "Obviously not too weak. You can't seem to get away." He chuckled. Lilly frowned.
"I could phase right through you, you know." She threatened.
Raiden moaned. "Aw, Grasshopper. You wouldn't do that to me, would you?" He asked, holding his stomach. Lilly rolled her eyes.
"Don't bite me and I won't phase you." She crossed her arms. "Deal?"
"Deal." Raiden grinned happily.
"You should really try to get some sleep, Ray." Lilly said.
"How can I sleep when I know that you're frustrated?" Raiden asked. "My nose might not be working properly, but I can still sense your feelings."
"You won't let me go."
"You could get away if you really wanted to." Raiden countered. "But you don't want to. Do you." It wasn't stated as a question.
Lilly felt heat rising to her cheeks in a blush. "Well.. uh..."
"Yes?" Raiden asked smugly. Lilly scrunched her nose at him.
"Do you have to be so cocky?" She snapped.
"No, I don't have to. But I want to." He answered.
She rolled her eyes. "No."
Raiden cocked an eyebrow. "No what?"
"Did you forget that quickly?" Lilly chuckled. "No, I don't want to get away." She said. "You're really warm and it is a little chilly in here."
"A little chilly?" Raiden asked incredulously. "Try arctic."
Lilly chuckled again.
"Well, now I feel better." Raiden said.
"Oh really?"
"Yes. Now you're not so irritated. I think I can relax now...." He said softly.
"Good. Get to sleep so you can get better. Detention's going to be boring without you tomorrow." She sighed. There was a silence before she spoke again. "Raiden?... Ray?" She tried to twist around to see him, but found it rather difficult. "Oh great. Now he falls asleep." She gently took his hand and tried to lift it off of her torso, but when she did, he groaned in his sleep. Lilly huffed her breath and laid back down beside him, giving up.
Raiden opened an eye and grinned.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Lilly!" Raiden called from the living room.
Lilly rolled her eyes and huffed her breath.
"Hang on, you big baby!" She shouted back.
"Come on, Lilly. I don't need that. Come back in here and gimme back the remote!" He whined.
Lilly smirked slightly and poured the hot tea into the mug. She walked carefully into the living room and set the cup on the table in front of him.
Raiden looked down at the cup and then up at her, blinking. "Tea?" He asked.
Lilly just smiled and sat down in the rocking chair opposite the coffee table. "It'll help."
Raiden sneezed and wrapped himself tighter with the blanket. "I don't need it."
"Yes you do. Ray, it'll help. You're sick."
"I told Rekka this was a bad idea." Raiden complained, bringing his knees up to his chest. Lilly laughed.
"She had plans with Neil. She didn't need you hacking all over her."
"But I could have stayed home...." He sniveled, taking a tissue out of its box and blowing his nose. Lilly leaned forward in her seat and frowned.
"Yeah. If she'd left you at home you'd end up doing homework or trashing your house or something instead of resting. She brought you over to me. That means you're under my care and that means that you have to do what I tell you. Now drink your tea, Wolf Boy."
Raiden looked at her and then at the cup of tea on the table. He sighed in defeat and picked it up, sipping at it. He grimaced. "Ugh. What is this, Castor Oil?"
"Your senses are all out of wack, aren't they?" She asked. He rubbed his eyes and sipped at the drink some more. "You can't even smell it, can you?"
"No." The werewolf attempted to breathe through his nose, but couldn't. "Why? Did you poison it or something?"
Lilly just grinned that mischievous grin of hers. "Something like that."
"Oh great. My sister abandons me and now you try to kill me." Raiden grinned back, putting the cup down. "So, what'd you do to it?"
"Drink it all and I'll tell you."
"No."
"Well, you can drink it willingly and I'll tell you... or I can phase it into you. I mean, you're too sick to fight me." Lilly shrugged. "And you know what ecto-energy does to your stomach."
Raiden stuck his tongue out at her. "So you want to make me throw up before you kill me?"
"Well, you've already thrown up twice. I don't think you've got anything left in you."
"Except for this nasty tea," Raiden mumbled as he took another swig of it.
Lilly giggled. "Would you stop being such a baby? It's the Flu, Ray. Not Tuberculosis. You're not going to die."
"Until you poisoned my drink," he argued, taking another sip.
"Oh, you're so whiny. I put a sleeping pill in it, okay? It's not poison, it'll just help you relax."
Raiden grinned. "I knew I could get it out of you." He snickered and then went into a coughing fit because of it. Lilly took his half-empty cup and the tissue box and put them down on the coffee table.
"Lay down, Ray." She ordered.
"I'm fine, Li-"
"I said, lay down." She pushed on his shoulder slightly, and he fell over on his side, laying lengthwise on the couch. He pulled the blanket up around him.
"Bossy today, aren't we?" He grumbled.
"You know, you shouldn't even have that blanket. You've got a fever." Lilly leaned over him and tried to pull the blanket away from the struggling wolfa. Eventually Raiden was too tired to fight and she managed to get it from him.
"You make me drink poison and now you're trying to freeze me to death. So glad I came over here...." He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. Lilly shook her head and tossed the blanket on the rocking chair.
"Rekka was right. You do complain a lot when you're sick." She said, knealing down beside him.
"I don't get sick very much. When I do, I feel like I'm going to die." Raiden sniffed. Lilly just smiled at him.
"So, where are Rekka and Neil going anyways?" She asked.
"I don't know. Rekka said she had a school project to complete. Mom and Dad are with your parents at some sort of ghost-catching convention...." He sighed. "So we're all alone." He pretended to whimper. Lilly smiled and stood back up.
"Speaking of school... I've got to finish my homework. I'll come back and check on you later. Let that medicine kick in," she said, and took a step away.
"Lilly!" Raiden whined. "Don't leave."
"Ray, you'll be fine-"
"But you said you'd make me feel better." He pouted. "And I'd feel better if you stayed here." He gave her his "puppy-dog eyes".
Lilly put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. "Don't you give me that look." She said, but Raiden didn't stop. "Oh, fine." She walked back over to him. "What do you want me to do?"
Raiden grinned. "Turn around."
Lilly raised an eyebrow. "May I ask why?"
"Come on, Grasshopper. Just do it."
Lilly stomped her foot in irritation and turned away from him. "Now what?" She asked.
Before she could realize what was going on, Raiden had pulled her onto the couch with him, forcing her to lay on her side in front of him. She gasped sharply from the shock of it. Raiden wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back closer to his stomach.
"There. Much better." He smiled.
"Raiden, you better not get me sick." Lilly scowled, trying to release his grip on her. But he wouldn't budge.
"Come on, Grasshopper. You're warm, I'm cold. Don't move."
"Actually, your skin is burning hot." Lilly said. "It's quite uncomfortable."
"That's not why you're trying to get away." Raiden whispered. "What's wrong, Grasshopper? Don't trust me?"
Lilly swallowed hard when she felt his hot breath on her neck. "Well... I'm not too comfortable being this close to a sick, grumpy werewolf."
"You know I would never hurt you." Raiden replied.
"Intentionally." Lilly added. "You remember what happened to Neil when he was with Rekka?"
"That's different." Raiden coughed. "I have much more control than Rekka."
"Under normal circumstances, maybe." Lilly said. "But you're body's weak right now."
Raiden grinned. "Obviously not too weak. You can't seem to get away." He chuckled. Lilly frowned.
"I could phase right through you, you know." She threatened.
Raiden moaned. "Aw, Grasshopper. You wouldn't do that to me, would you?" He asked, holding his stomach. Lilly rolled her eyes.
"Don't bite me and I won't phase you." She crossed her arms. "Deal?"
"Deal." Raiden grinned happily.
"You should really try to get some sleep, Ray." Lilly said.
"How can I sleep when I know that you're frustrated?" Raiden asked. "My nose might not be working properly, but I can still sense your feelings."
"You won't let me go."
"You could get away if you really wanted to." Raiden countered. "But you don't want to. Do you." It wasn't stated as a question.
Lilly felt heat rising to her cheeks in a blush. "Well.. uh..."
"Yes?" Raiden asked smugly. Lilly scrunched her nose at him.
"Do you have to be so cocky?" She snapped.
"No, I don't have to. But I want to." He answered.
She rolled her eyes. "No."
Raiden cocked an eyebrow. "No what?"
"Did you forget that quickly?" Lilly chuckled. "No, I don't want to get away." She said. "You're really warm and it is a little chilly in here."
"A little chilly?" Raiden asked incredulously. "Try arctic."
Lilly chuckled again.
"Well, now I feel better." Raiden said.
"Oh really?"
"Yes. Now you're not so irritated. I think I can relax now...." He said softly.
"Good. Get to sleep so you can get better. Detention's going to be boring without you tomorrow." She sighed. There was a silence before she spoke again. "Raiden?... Ray?" She tried to twist around to see him, but found it rather difficult. "Oh great. Now he falls asleep." She gently took his hand and tried to lift it off of her torso, but when she did, he groaned in his sleep. Lilly huffed her breath and laid back down beside him, giving up.
Raiden opened an eye and grinned.
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