Burntcore Week 48: Paradise

Burntcore
Thursday


Picture 1

Picture 2


Burntcore's Choice: Picture 1


Title: Paradise
I hated this time of year. It was cold and barren and brown. Even the snow only stayed pure for so long. Staying out in this cabin only made me feel more desolate. I brought the cigarette to my lips again and pulled another drag of the sweet tobacco into my lungs.

It felt like spring would never come again. I longed for warm breezes and leaves on trees and even flowers. Mostly, I couldn’t wait to see the girls running around campus in shorts and tiny dresses.

I couldn’t help it, I was still a guy... who, especially in this cold, forsaken place, longed for the warmth of something soft and feminine. All of those soft and feminine things were covered up by thick, downy jackets, gloves, hats, and scarves.

Sigh.

And yet, my dumbass is standing out on this joke of a balcony in a t-shirt. The joys of being a smoker.

Maybe I should quit.

Maybe I should just put on a sweatshirt before I go outside.

Perhaps it was time for a road trip to someplace warm.

Shivering, I flicked my cigarette out into the snow covered grass below and shuffled back into the cabin. My roommate was sprawled across the couch, mashing his thumbs on the controller of his game system.

“Dude!” I said as I plopped down beside him.

“‘Sup?” he asked, somewhat distracted as he graphically dismembered his enemy on the screen with sprays of blood going in several directions.

“When’s your last final?”

“Tomorrow,” he replied, and executed another series of hacking and slashing.

“Awesome. It’s time for a road trip.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere south. I don’t care where as long as it’s warm and has pretty girls.”

My roommate looked back at me with a big smile. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. There’s a game I would much rather be playing.”

He high-fived me and I laughed as I started making plans for our winter break road trip away from this desolate, cold, hellhole.

Paradise, here we come.

Kimmydonn Week 48: Rising Water

Kimmydon
Wednesday


Picture 1

Picture 2


Kimmydon's Choice: both


Title: Rising Water
The grey sky was ominous as we drove nearer to the ocean. There was little traffic in either direction, which was surprising. We expected an exodus away from the hurricane and flood zone, but apparently everyone had already left and we were the only one’s crazy enough to be driving into it.

“Keep going, Martin,” I pleaded as the rain began to pelt the windshield. “I know she’s there. We have to help her.”

“She’s gotten out already, Lucy. Why don’t you believe that? She’s long gone and just didn’t have a way to tell us.”

“No, she’s trapped. Don’t ask me how I know, I just know. Just like I know we’re going to get there before this really breaks on us.” I looked up at the sky, doubting myself for a minute. It looked horrid, and the devastation further south certainly foretold of disaster here. It didn’t matter. I had to get to Kristen. She had been living in the lighthouse all summer, alone. She said it was perfect for her to work on her novel. No interruptions, easy, steady work. She’d sent me pieces of the manuscript to review, by mail - snail mail. She was taking this ‘olden days’ thing far too seriously.

Martin knew she had taken only a long dead cell phone with her into the light house, and no computer, no laptop, nothing. The lighthouse had power and a phone jack, but she’d shunned both, as he knew, which is why he was so avid that she simply hadn’t gotten hold of us. However, I knew that if she’d left, the first thing she would do is find a phone and call. She was still there, trapped in a tower on the edge of the ocean.

As we broke through the scrub to the actual beach, I saw just how trapped she was. Tide was in and higher than it had ever been. The storm had lighted a little, as I had known it would. I jumped from the car before Martin even had it in park.

“Lucy! Come back here!”

It was too late, I’d jumped off the rocks that protected the area we had parked, though the water would breach those soon as well, and landed with a splash in the swirling, rising water. I started to slog for the pinnacle, for Kristen. My red coat floated on the water, swirling around me, but I hardly noticed it. It seemed to take hours to reach the door at the base of the spire, and it was already half its height under the water, as was I. It would have been impossible to open if it had been fully sealed.

Planners had left small gaps, which made this horribly cold in the winter, but accessible now, when the water threatened to strand whoever was inside.

“Kristen!” I yelled, shoving the door with all my strength. It budged slowly. “Kristen! Can you hear me?!”

“Lucy?” her voice croaked. It sounded full of pain. “Is that you?”

“I’m coming, Kristen!” The stairs, out of the water, were easy to climb, though I shivered with cold. Being out of the water drew attention to the winds coming off the ocean, bringing the hurricane with them.

I found her, trying to turn the glass of the light. The rusted mechanism had jammed. Joining her, I pushed with all the might I had as well. This was important, getting the light where it would warn ships tossed in the storm. Two backs seemed to have enough oomph to throw the mirror into place. Kristen ran out of the room while I still heaved for breath.

She came back with pages in a giant ziplock. I almost laughed. She hugged the bundle to her chest. “Thanks for coming. I assume Martin is out there?” she asked, skipping down the stairs.

I was hot on her heels. “Yes. We need to hurry, we won’t get far before this really breaks. Why don’t you have a radio in here?” I asked as she pushed open the door that had been shut again.

The water on the other side fought against her. It had risen in the time I’d been here. “I do. I just... didn’t turn it on,” she admitted sheepishly.

Shaking my head, I joined her at the door, wedging it enough for the water to swirl in, up to my breasts now. We only opened it enough to press one of us out at a time, and we each groaned and cursed as it tried to close on us. It slammed as soon as I was through and we started paddling for the shore. I could see Martin in his light brown slicker, watching for us. He started waving arms as soon as we were out.

“He’s never going to let me live this down, is he?” Kristen asked.

“And I am?”

The water had breached the rocks, just barely, and it was through sloppy mud that we ran for the car, Kristen and I caught each other as we skated on the slick surface. We both hopped into the back where I’d left a couple of blankets, suspecting we’d be cold.

Martin, bless him, had left the engine running and was backing onto the highway as our door closed. “Hold on,” her warned, snapping the wheels and tossing both of us in the passenger side door. Kristen grunted as I collided with her, but Martin was climbing, headed to town where we could shelter. Already the winds were rising and the rain had returned, harder than before.

“You alright?” he asked, once we were on the slope.

“Yeah. We’re okay,” I answered.

“Thank you,” Kristen murmured.

Martin just chuckled. “If I didn’t trust Lucy so much...” he mused, focusing on the road and trying to see through the rain.

“At least we’ll have something to read while we wait out the storm,” I joked, taking Kristen’s bundle from her. I gasped when I saw the water pooled at the bottom. “Oh no!”

Kristen’s hand shot out to take it back, ripping the bag open. She sighed in relief. “Just a little damp on the edge. A hole in the bag, probably.

The last line or two of each page was smudged, but not illegible. Her baby, as she so often called it.

Martin got out first, when we reached the community hall. He dove out and ran for the door, banging on it twice before pulling it open. He ducked in for only a second before holding it and motioning for us to join him. Clutching our blankets, we did.

There was a small group gathered, coffee in an urn, water in pitchers, and a handful of kids chasing each other around the large open floor.

“Hello. Did you have any trouble?” a woman with grey hair asked.

“A little,” Kristen answered. “The mirror wouldn’t budge. I need Simon to come take a look at it when he can.” She filled a cup with steaming brown liquid, holding her blanket with one hand. “I might not have made it out if my friends hadn’t come to help me with it.”

She motioned to Martin and I. I waved tentatively.

“And now you’re trapped here, too. Well, they say this won’t last long, overnight. Melanie! Nita! Would you two stop running! I need you to get another mat.”

The two oldest girls stopped chasing the younger boys and went to one of the doors under the small stage. They dragged out a pair of mats that might be used for gymnastics, but would be our beds for the night. The woman, who’s name I hadn’t gotten, went to help them lay out sheets and pillow from the pile on another mat.

“You don’t mind staying, do you?” Kristen asked. “That’s Mrs. Murphy and the girls are her daughters; the boys, grandsons.”

“I don’t see as we have much choice,” Martin complained, listening to the storm howl.

All the lights went out suddenly and then came back on a moment or two later.

“We have a generator,” Mrs. Murphy told us, returning. “And stew in a crockpot when you get hungry.” She led them toward the kitchen again. “Don’t expect many will find their way here tonight, but you never know in a storm like this. Tree blow right through your window, and then what do you do?”

None of us answered, just took more coffee, quietly.

“How much longer are you planning to stay here?” I asked Kristen as I sipped from my mug. “You must be nearly done writing by now.” She couldn’t mean to stay in the tiny coastal town forever. Certainly not in the lighthouse.

“I’m not sure. I’m... not finished...”

There was a gust of cold salty air as the door opened.

“Simon! Shut that. Hurry now!”

As soon as I saw the man, I knew what Kristen wasn’t finished. “And why didn’t you have him come fix the lantern sooner,” I asked.

Martin chuckled, too. He probably noticed Kristen’s face colour as the man came in. He wasn’t extraordinarily handsome, but he certainly didn’t strain the eye, either. His head was covered with a shiny rain hat, that he doffed quickly to reveal more forehead than he’d probably had a few years ago. Rather than old, it made him look... stately.

He stepped up to Mrs. Murphy and kissed his cheek. “House’s shut up as tight as I can make it. The boys give you any trouble?”

“Not a lick. Girls! Boys! Come get some supper.”

I turned to Kristen in surprise. Not only was he a few years older than us, he had kids?! This was a long way from the guys she usually dated. She was still red-faced and watching Simon closely. I couldn’t take my eyes from her, until Martin approached Simon, hand out-stretched.

“Hi, I’m Martin. Lucy and I are friends of Kristen. We were worried when we didn’t hear from her.” He glanced over his shoulder at us and Kristen huddled further into her blanket, seeming to hide.

“What have you got there, dear?” Mrs. Murphy asked, coming closer. “Is that the book? Bring it into the kitchen. Lots of counter to set it out on. I see it’s gotten a bit damp.”

I was even more confused and beginning to feel out of place. Maybe Kristen hadn’t needed us after all. She followed the older woman into the kitchen silently but was soon set upon by the boys who didn’t seem interested in their stew. The colour in her cheeks faded as she answered their questions and showed them pages. She wasn’t leaving.

Simon was watching her with the boys. Martin stood beside him, grinning. He caught my eye and winked before striking up a conversation with Simon. One that probably revolved around revealing every tidbit Kristen would like never repeated. Indeed, Simon was soon laughing with Martin and they moved to some stacking chairs that had been set out.

I entered the kitchen, planning to ask Kristen about Simon, but she had her head bent to Mrs. Murphy’s. “You’ll be fine dear. Just go and talk to him. I know the old mechanics of the lighthouse aren’t like the new fangled gadgets he works with now, but he’ll know what to do. I’ll keep the boys out of both your hair.” The older woman’s smile was warm and knowing as well.

Grabbing a deck of playing cards from a cubby hole, I sat at one of the tables set up and started dealing out Klondike, until Martin came and took the cards, dealing for Gin Rummy. “Didn’t see that coming, did you?” he asked, cocking his head in Simon and Kristen’s direction.

“No,” I answered honestly. My gift let me see somethings, very clearly in the worst scenarios, but almost nothing in the best. It was nice. It meant I could still be surprised, but usually in the most pleasant ways.

SwedenSara Week 47: A Place to Hide

SwedenSara
Friday


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Picture 2


SwedenSara’s Choice: both


Title: A Place to Hide
All my life I’ve been looking for places to hide. When I was little, I hid for fun - in the closet, under the table, or behind the couch. I sat there, waiting in rapt anticipation for my parents or my big sister to find me. I giggled with joy as I listened to their voices, laced with pretended concern for my well being as they called for me, begging me to come back to them. In some ways, I knew that they just played along to make me happy and that they were aware of my whereabouts all the time, but I still loved the feeling of being missed, of hearing them cry and telling each other how their lives were not complete without me. It was just for show, but it made me feel loved and cherished. I was loved and cherished, and toying with the idea of disappearing made me realize what an impact it would have on the lives of my loved ones if I really did go missing. For a while, that understanding made me anxious about letting go of my mother’s hand in the supermarket, or losing sight of my family on the playground or the beach, but I grew out of it.

My talent for finding good hiding-places came in handy in school, in positive as well as negative ways. During my first school-years I excelled when playing hide-and-seek in recess, but my friends grew tired of never finding me. Once, they decided they had had enough, and just left me. I waited and waited, and when I realized they had actually abandoned me, I cried. I stayed in my place and didn’t go back to class that afternoon. I felt betrayed and ashamed, an odd mixture; betrayed because they left me, and ashamed because everyone would know that they left me. Everyone would know that I was the one singled out, the black sheep, the one not worthy of finding. They would point their fingers at me and whisper, covering their mouths and giggling, and when I would look at them they would quickly look away. I knew that. I had seen it happen so many times. That evening, my parents got the first of many calls from the teachers about my missing class.

From then on, I stayed out of the hide-and-seek games, with the intention to always be close to my friends so they wouldn’t leave me again. Unfortunately, that was a mistake. They suddenly seem to find me annoying, but I didn’t know why or what I had done wrong. It was as if the choice to abandon me during hide-and-seek united them closely and made it okay for them to freeze me out.

I quickly adapted to being “the lonely one.” I thought that, if I gave them time and kept my distance, they would come back to me. I wasn’t happy with it, but I figured that at least it couldn’t get worse. They didn’t come back, and it did get worse. A lot worse. And my skills at hiding came in handy again.

I usually hid in the woods behind out school. The moss-covered trunks and the leafy branches, the huge boulders and the uprooted trees, they were all on my side, offering me solitude, solace and security. The only difference was that now, I didn’t want to be found. So many times I decided to just stay in the forest forever, to disappear and never come back. Then I thought of my family, searching for me and calling my name like they did when I was little, only this time it would be for real. And I realized that if I did leave, then the sorrow in their voices, the despair and concern, it wouldn’t be just for show anymore. It would be sincere. I couldn’t do that to them. So I came back, every time, only to face my antagonists once again.

I survived, though. I’m grown up now, and I have friends who would never leave me behind. The scars are still there, and I still look for hide-outs wherever I go, just in case. It’s like a reflex, an unconscious act meant to prevent and protect. I haven’t told them what happened to me, and to be honest, I don’t remember much of it. I’ve repressed it, pushed the worst stuff so far away in my mind that I’m not sure I could remember it even if i tried. I don’t want to remember, but my therapist says I should. She thinks my life would be better if I dealt with it. I can’t see why reliving that would make anything better at all. I think those memories are perfectly fine where they are, banished from my conscious mind and locked away.

Today, as I look down on the big city below, I realize how much it looks like a forest. The skyscrapers reach for the sky, offering me millions of hideouts. It’s not like the forest at home, but it’ll work. It’ll make me feel safe.

Burntcore Week 47: Stillness of Color

Burntcore
Thursday


Picture 1

Picture 2


Burntcore's Choice: both


Title: Stillness of Color
Melanie sighed as she flopped on my bed. “Do you think we’ll ever be as cool as Marlon Brando?” she asked, gazing longingly at my black and white poster of Marlon on my wall.

“Maybe,” I mused. “If you stop being such a goober all the time.”

I smirked at Melanie as her jaw dropped in shock.

“Goober? Who are you calling a goober?” she demanded, throwing a pillow at me.

“Who you callin’ a cootie queen, you lint licker!” I quoted an Orbitz gum commerial as I caught the pillow and tossed it back at her.

Melanie laughed and sighed lustily over Marlon Brando’s picture again.

“They just don’t make them like they used to, do they?”

“Hmm?” I asked, as I dug through the piles of organized chaos on my desk to find a SD card for my camera.

“Men like Marlon. They don’t make them like that anymore. Hollywood just isn’t like it used to be.”

“Aha!” I crowed happily as I branished the sought after SD card. “Found it!”

“Seriously, Linds, what do you think? Do you think Hollywood is different now?”

I sat in my desk chair with a flop and pondered her question. “Of course it is. Half the shit that men like Brando got away with back then couldn’t be done now. Everyone romantisizies how things were back then but was it really that great?”

“If you feel that way about that time, why do yo have a poster of Brando on your wall?”

I laughed, “Cause he’s fucking hot! Duh!”

Melanie joined in my laughter as I swapped out SD cards on my camera. Regardless of how much of a sexist pig Marlon Brando may have been, he was still one of the finest men to ever grace the big screen.

Our laughter died down and I gathered my camera bag and lenses. Melanie said she wanted to come with me on this trip. I next assignment for my photography class was to interpret the phrase “Stillness of Color.” I wasn’t sure just how I was going to do that but we were going out to find just what that would mean.

“You ready?” I ask, as I slide the last of my stuff into my bag.

“Yep,” Melanie said, as she got up from my bed and grabbed her purse. “Where are we going exactly?”

“I have a few ideas where I think I can find something that fits... the lake is one, and possibly the arboretum. We’ll hit the arboretum first as it is closest. After we’re done, you wanna grab a bite?”

Melanie eagerly agreed, “Yes, please. I’ve hardly eaten all day.”

We ran out of my apartment and hopped in my trusty Honda Civic. It had seen better days but it still ran great and got me where I needed to go. The gas mileage couldn’t be beat for a standard combustion engine either.

It didn’t take long before we got to the college’s arboretum. Thankfully, it wasn’t that busy. As we walked around, I took a few photos of interesting things I saw but nothing really stuck out at me. Melanie even tried to help by pointing out a few things she saw that caught her eye, but nothing was working. Nothing was It. We had gotten about halfway through the arboretumwhen I realized that I wasn’t going to find what I wanted there.

“Come on, Melanie. It’s just not working here. Let’s try the lake.”

“Really? There are so many beautiful things here,” she replied, looking around with a smile. Melanie loved the arboretum, which was fitting since she was studying to be a botanist.

“There are,” I agreed. “But not what I need for this assignment.”

The drive to the lake took a little longer. We chatted easily about our plans for later that night. Melanie and I both had dates with guys from our Ethics class, the one class we both had together. This was my first date with Jason but her third with Matt. She was eagerly looking forward to how the third date shenanigans would go.

“You are such a slut,” I teased.

“What? He’s hot!” she retorted.

“Yeah, but still, that doesn’t mean you have to give it up just because it’s the third date.”

“I know that, mom, thanks,” she said sarcastically. “I really like him so we’ll just see where it goes.”

I nodded, knowing that nothing I said would sway my friend from her goal of getting into Matt’s pants. He was a good lucking guy and all but there was more to life than sex. Not much, but there was.

Finally, we pulled up at the look-out point for the lake, which was also blissfully empty. The sun had just set and colors were streaking across the sky.

“Oh my God,” I whispered. “Mel, this is perfect.”

I barely remembered to park the car and shut it off before I was out the door and setting up my tripod. I heard Melanie get out of the car and join me on the bank of the placid lake.

“Wow, that’s amazing, Linds,” Melanie whispered.

I nodded as I attached my camera to the tripod and dug through my bag for the right lens. The colors were deepening as the sun continued it’s trek across to the other side of the world. I only had moments to capture this. With a quiet snick, the lens locked into place and I began setting the aperture settings.

Gazing through the viewfinder, I watched the oranges and the blues of the sky streak against the high, puffy clouds. The placid, calm lake mirrored the image, providing a fantastic backdrop to the dead tree that stood off to the side. Finally finding my moment, I focused on the limbs of the dead tree with the last of the sun streaming behind it in glorious golds that contrasted the blues and oranges of the sunset.

Click.

Kimmydonn Week 47: Misfortune

Kimmydon
Wednesday


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Picture 2


Kimmydon's Choice: both


Title: Misfortune
What was I doing here? I should have learned my lesson from his last show, but no, I’d decided to try to make it to another. Sure, there was the lure of the new songs, written about characters I had created, but Dan would have been happy to sing them for me somewhere quiet, well-lit, and warm. Instead I’d wedged myself into a milling crowd, sure my shoe was slipping in something not from a glass. I’d made it through three numbers before I couldn’t take another minute. The people felt like insects, swarming me. I ran from the bar and heaved a sigh of relief from beside the bouncer still taking cover fees.

“You okay?” he asked, eying me over. “Need me to get a cab?”

I should have accepted, instead I foolishly thought a walk would do me good. Fresh air wasn’t a bad idea, but the neighborhood I’d chosen couldn’t be much worse. Dan wouldn’t swoop in and save me now. I didn’t have a knight sworn to protect me. I was going to be crushed by the monster that dogged my steps.
I froze in front of a lighted window, praying the neon would repel him, like some magic barrier.
It seemed to work at first, he stalled anyway. Then he came on, grabbed my arm and pushed me past the window, into the alley.

“Come along, little girl.” His voice dripped venom and I started to scream. His hand wrapped around my mouth, muffling it. It was cut by the knife he produced. “Now play nice and I won’t have to use this,” he warned, twisting the blade so it shone in the sparse light. Tears filled my eyes but I nodded slightly.

”Aren’t you lucky I have a strong constitution? Amnesia, the knight muttered.

The princess clung to the knight’s back as he rode out of the cave. “How do you get me into these things?” he asked.

“I’m beginning to believe your reputation is bringing disaster,” she retorted, losing breath as she connected hard with the saddle.
“Heh, suppose it could be. You never see the inept ones I put down. It’s mercy-killing, I swear.” He chuckled and held a hand over hers where it clung to his breastplate.

“Well, if you will kindly return me to my fortress, I will attempt to make your job easier,” she answered coolly.

“How’s that?”

“Better fortifications, of course. Less chance...” His laughing cut her off.

“You think they won’t find a way around? They always do. How many times have you been captured this month? this week? I’m starting to think you’re running off with them to make me come for you.”

She seethed, wishing she could cross her arms. Finally she did let go and slipped form the saddle to the dirt. She tumbled once, her rags picking up more filth. This last captor had not been gentle.

Rearing, the knight pulled rein, and dismounted, coming to lift her. “Why?” he asked.

She kicked a little, ineffectually, until he plopped her in the saddle, walking with the reins. She quieted some then.

“Why?” he barked again.

“I don’t know,” she answered. She knew the question. Why did she fight him? Why didn’t she let him protect her properly, all the time? Why did she refuse his presence so often?

“Try to figure it out,” he grumbled.

Scooping a glob of jam onto my bread, I joined Marla at the table.

“What happened to you?” she asked, alarmed. “Where were you last night?”

I didn’t answer, slugging back coffee and choking on it. “Nothing happened,” I said when the coughing died away. “I went to the show, then Dan brought me home.”

She smirked. “Dan did. Is he coming by again today?”

“Yes,” I said in a whisper. Appetite gone, I dropped the bread to my plate and turned back for my room.

“Wait,” Marla called. “Your face. What did you do? Fall?”

I ran a hand of the shallow scrape and bruise. “Yeah. I fell. Near a wall.” It was pushed against a wall, but close enough.

“You’re not going to eat that?” she asked, pointing at the bread and heart-shaped glob.

“No. In fact, I’m going for a walk. Tell Dan I’m at the park?” I didn’t bother with bag or coat, walking out.

I sat staring into grassy field, not seeing the kids playing, or dogs walking. Leaping of the bench, I punched Dan in the jaw as he tried to hug me.

“I’m sorry!” I shouted, putting my hand to the spot. “You scared me.”

“I deserved that. Should have warned you. You forgot this,” he said, pulling my notebook from his coat pocket. “That nearly scared Marla to death. You’ll have to tell her something when you get back. As soon as she told me you were gone, I guessed where.” He moved to sit next to me. “May I?” he asked, lifting his arm and setting it well off my shoulders behind me.

I nodded and leaned into his chest, tucking my head under his chin. “Thank you,” I whispered. “It could have been so much worse. It was bad, but...” I sniffled unable to relive any of the night before, yet.

“I’m here for you, Chase. Always. I’ll come for you anytime, anywhere. I just wish I’d known you were coming. If John hadn’t spotted you in the crowd, if I hadn’t gone looking...” We both shuddered at the implications.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked after several minutes of silence.

“No,” I whispered.

“Want to hear a story?” he asked. “About a little boy who got caught by bigger boys?”

“No,” I answered honestly. “Unless it’s about the little boy kicking all their asses.”

He laughed, and I could feel it rumble through him. “Don’t let him get you, Jenny. He’s gone. You will never see him again. No one is going to see him again for months.”

I let the words calm me. He was right. The creep was a repeat offender. I probably wouldn’t even need to go to court. Dan’s hand never stopped moving on my back, slow strokes. He turned his head to kiss the top of mine.

I shifted, bringing my face up to his. I held those deep dark eyes for a moment before pressing my lips to his.

His response took me by surprise. He jumped and seized my shoulders, pulling me away slightly. “Whoa. You sure you wanna do that?”

I sighed a little. “No,” I answered honestly before deflating completely. I was a puddle of Jennifer in his lap, no will to stir from the spot.

His hands found my hair and started combing through it. “‘Why?’ he asked. I opened my notebook to what I’d written after he dropped me off.

“She kicked a little, ineffectually, until he plopped her in the saddle, walking with the reins. She quieted some then.

“‘Why?’” Dan continued to read.

“I don’t know,” I answered. Then the tears came. I’d cried on him last night, and then it had been okay. I mean, I’d been assaulted and nearly raped, that excused a few tears, but now? Now I didn’t know why I was crying. Probably because I was a girl.

“It’s okay, Chase, cry it out.” It wasn’t what I’d expected to hear, and the tears slowed as a result.

“What?” I asked.

“That’s what that little boy did, after he got back to his mom. She held him, and let him cry, until he was ready to try again.”

I half-expected the tears to return, but they didn’t. Instead I threw my arms around his neck, half-straddling him. He gave a gasp in astonishment. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I shouldn’t have left alone. I shouldn’t have gone alone. I’ll never be so stupid again.” Pressing my face to his neck, I pursed my lips to kiss it.

“I’m so glad I found you. John and Eric still weren’t talking to me this morning, but they will when I tell them why I didn’t come back. I can’t believe you came at all, alone or otherwise. Why did you do it?”

I sniffled and pulled away enough to look at him. “42.”

He put his forehead to mine. “You’re telling me,” he murmured.

His smile warmed me where I thought I’d be frozen forever. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours, but it felt like eternity.

“Take me to heaven?” I asked, an errant tear tickling my nose. His lips moved to kiss it away.

“One day soon,” he promised. “First, I want to have you here a little longer.” He hugged me tight again, stroking my back and rocking. I wouldn’t argue. There wasn’t anywhere else I wanted to be.

Destinee Week 46: We All Need a Little Fun

Destiny Cullen
Sunday


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Picture 2


Destiny Cullen’s Choice: both


Title: We All Need a Little Fun

Sara was laying on her bed trying to get back into her book, but she just couldn’t concentrate. She laid the book on her chest and stared at the photos she had on her surrounding walls. She smiled looking at each picture, remembering each moment that was caught forever and posted on her wall. She remembered each laugh, each smile, each hug. She remembered feeling. . .alive.

She wanted to feel happy again, like she did before - before she had to get a second job to pay for school and bills that weren’t even hers. She didn’t have any drive, no passion for school anymore. She sighed and took her feet off the wall, throwing the book across the room.

“What the hell? Are you trying to kill me?”

Sara laughed and sat up to look at her best friend. “What are you doing here? I said I couldn’t meet you at the mall, I have to study.” Her friend gave her an ‘oh really’ look and glared at the book that had almost hit her. “Don’t give me that look, Beth. You know I have finals next week.”

“Sure Sara. Anyway I came here, even after you blew me off, to tell you something really ultimately life changing!”

Sara rolled her eyes. “Did you win the lottery?” God knew she needed that for all the hospital bills of her late parents.

Beth scoffed. “No! It is way better than that. Try. . . Tickets to see The Sex Brothers! They had a free give away at the mall and I won! And what is even better you ask? We get to meet the band after the concert!”

Sara’s eyes were about to pop out of her head. The Sex Brothers? They were the biggest thing right now in rock music. Not to mention the sexiest band ever. Not one person in the band was ugly, but Sara had a huge crush on the guitarist.

“I don’t think I can Beth.” She sighed and headed to her closet so she wouldn‘t give in to temptation, but Beth blocked her. “Don’t you dare ditch me, Sara! I know you can go. I’ll even help you study tomorrow. All day! You know Saturdays are my flirt days at the beach.”

Sara couldn’t help but laugh. She glanced over her shoulder and looked at the pictures of her old happier self. She wanted to feel alive again, right? Before she had to take care of all the responsibilities? She wanted a little spice back in her life. Why not go to the concert that was bound to have adrenaline running through her veins? It may be temporary happiness but she’d take it where she could get it.

She looked at her watch and knew that if the show started at seven then they only had about six hours to wait in line. “I’ll have to hurry up and get dressed. If we want to be up front and actually see them during the show, we have to leave in the next twenty minutes.” Sara whispered not really sure if she should do this. Suddenly Beth crushed her in a tight hug and squealed with happiness.

“I have the perfect shirt for you to wear to the concert, it may be white but it describes you.” She snickered and Sara was instantly worried. “Come on,” she waved Sara out of her room. “I have an outfit for you in the car, just grab your camera and I.D.”

Sara threw on her converse and ran to her friend’s car, hoping no one saw her in her shorts and sports bra. They weren’t even the cute ones she ran in. “The bag is under your seat.” Beth smiled as Sara pulled out a plastic bag. “Just so you know, you have to wear what is in there because there is no way you are going to meet The Sex Brothers in ugly shorts and an old sports bra.”

Sara glared at her and jumped into the back seat and Beth sped off toward the arena. “I swear that if these clothes are too small I will kill you and feed you to the groupies.” She glared at Beth in the rear-view but her friend just told her to put on the clothes and quit complaining.

Of course Beth had to get on the freeway, and Sara was sure those honks weren’t for Beth’s bad driving. Finally dressed in a new bra, shirt, and pants Sara climbed into the front seat as they entered the parking garage.

“Are you ready to have to time of your life?” She smiled at Sara, and it was infectious. Sara was already forgetting all her troubles. She grabbed Beth in a rib-crunching hug. “Thank you so much for doing this for me. I really needed to get out and have fun.”

When she finally let go, Beth took her toward the already large line of fans. “Shit, we’ll never get to stand by the stage!” Her face fell, so much for getting Ryan’s guitar pick. Sara crossed her arms and stood behind a girl with a bright red Mohawk.

“Don’t act like that! Remember what we get to do after the show.” Beth smiled and leaned in close to her ear. “I know you want Ryan’s pick but imagine you could get something better. Like a shirt, or a kiss.” She giggled like a school girl; that earned some glances.

Surprisingly the hours waiting in the hot sun went by pretty fast and the venue staff let everyone in after verifying bags and tickets. Beth and Sara were about six rows of people away from the stage and figured that it wasn’t that bad. The tricky thing with general admission was that you never really stayed were you started out.

An evil grin spread across Sara’s face. She was going to be in front tonight, no matter if her clothes got ripped. Despite what it said on her shirt, she was not going to act like a lady tonight.

Not long after, the general admission was full and most of the stadium filled. Sara glanced around and saw the opening band start a sound check. She tugged Beth’s bra strap, “I need you to be ready. Once the band starts playing and everyone starts jumping around, we need to push our way up to the front.” Beth smiled and nodded her agreement.

After the final four bands played Beth and Sara were only a row of bodies away from the stage. The Sex Brothers came on stage and the whole place erupted in screams. Sara couldn’t help but stare at Ryan as he slung the red and black guitar over his shoulder.

The whole place vibrated with excitement and Sara smiled so wide it hurt. This was the feeling she was missing; she really needed to find a way to pay back Beth. The band started playing, and she could feel the music in her bones. The music from the amps shook her necklace on her chest.

Sara and Beth avoided the circle pits as best they could. A huge guy almost pulled Beth into the circle but Sara somehow got her back to their place up front. Ryan was in the middle of his epic solo when the huge guy from before came back around the circle pit and hit Sara square in the jaw.

Sara’s vision got flooded with black dots as the pain erupted in her head. She was here for the feeling she was missing and she got more than bargained for. She glared back at the guy but he was too into the music to figure out he just punched a girl in the face.

Fighting the tears, she put her all her focus back to the stage and she saw Ryan staring at her. Sure, everyone thought that a famous band member was looking at them during the concert, but he was really looking at her. She looked over at Beth and she was screaming for the lead singer, Darren, to look at her.

At the end of that song set, Ryan stepped on the ego riser, leaned over security, and held out his hand to her. Sara couldn’t breathe as she looked into his hazel eyes. Screams shredded her eardrums and hands bashed against her body to get closer to Ryan.

She shook the shock away and reached her hand out and took what was in his. He smiled as she took his pick and mouthed ‘sorry’ to her before he straightened and headed backstage. She was dumbstruck, but she couldn’t stop smiling even when her face protested.

“Thank you for coming out tonight! You made our stay in California worth it!” Darren yelled into the microphone.

“I want you, Darren!”
“Marry me, Darren!”
“You’re my baby’s daddy!”
“I love you!”

He laughed at the screaming fans, said his ‘I love you’s to all the screaming girls, and avoided the baby daddy comments. Finally the whole band came back on to say goodbye and then they were gone. The lights came on and everyone started for the doors.

“You got his pick, you little bitch!” Beth laughed as she hugged her. “Oh shit, your face! What the fuck happened?” It was Sara’s turn to laugh. “Nothing that matters, I got Ryan’s pick and I’m ready to go home.”

“Not so fast! We get to meet them backstage remember?” She smiled and thought about actually talking to her fantasy. “Lets hurry up before the groupies ravage them. I want Darren’s shirt.”

Thirty minutes later, they were backstage, but it wasn’t roadies and the band they were greeted with. It was the police. “You ladies need to leave. There will be no meeting the band tonight.”

Beth scoffed. “We have tickets to see them.” The policeman eyed her and then looked at Sara. “There will be no meeting the band. I suggest that you ladies go home.” He crossed his arms across his chest as his partner cupped his taser.

“This is bullshit!” Beth stormed out of the arena and slammed the door to her car. “This is utter bullshit, Sara! We deserve to see them! You got clocked in the face, for shit’s sake!” Sara patted her friend’s arm since smiling was out of the question - her jaw was already swollen.

“I know, I know. I’ll take you home now. At least you got a pick out of the punch to the jaw. I’m going to complain to the manager who gave me the tickets. We are going to meet them one way or another, Sara.”

Sara laughed at her friend. “Yeah, right. You know, they don’t give a shit if we see them or not.” Beth shot her a death glare and she shut her mouth. Beth parked outside the house and waved bye before zooming off into the night.

Sara smiled as she walked into her room and falling limp on her cold sheets. She moaned as she curled up in the most comfortable position ever. “Best. Night. Ev-” She was cut off by the chirping of her phone.

She groaned eyeing the device on her nightstand debating if she could reach for it without moving from the comfy position. It chirped again and she glared at it and moved to get it. It was texts from Beth.

I’m home safely and on the phone with the manager right now. Wish me luck or you’re not getting to meet them with me!

Still on hold but not giving up.

Sara rolled her eyes, knowing she wasn’t going to get new tickets to see them but texting back her wishes of luck to her hopeful friend. She laid the phone right next to her pillow just in case her friend decided to text again.

Insistent ringing woke Sara up and she looked around her room wondering why her head hurt so bad. She wanted to shut that annoying ringing up. She found her phone under her pillow right where her ear was and looked at it, wishing she could turn it into mush with one thought.

But instead she looked through the messages. Fifteen missed calls last night from Beth and ten text messages from her, eight in from the last five minutes.

Bitch answer the phone!
You think I won’t go to your house and wake your ass up?
I have good news bitch!
Fine, I guess you don’t want to know!

Sara stopped looking through the texts and decided to call Beth before she had an aneurysm. Beth answered on the second ring. “Finally! I thought someone might have killed you last night. I mean you are a sexy twenty-two year old.”

Sara rolled her eyes. “The good news, Beth. I need to get some aspirin and get back to bed. My face is killing me.”

“Party pooper! Anyway. I was calling you to tell you we get to see the band next Friday in San Diego! And this time we have backstage passes! We get to see the whole show backstage.”

Sara’s eyes bugged and she couldn’t form words. “How the hell did you pull that off?!”

“I have my ways. But it might have to do with something about my best friend getting hit in the face and us not being able to see them, becoming emotionally unstable. Oh and lawsuit and killing spree might have been thrown around.”

“You made me sound like a lunatic.” She put her arm across her eyes, her room seeming too bright.

“The details don’t matter. Just get better and get an outfit ready for next week!”

The call was disconnected and she let the cell fall from her ear. She took a deep breath and smiled. She was looking for happiness? She found it, and it wasn’t even temporary. She just needed to open herself up to the opportunities.

Snapple Apple 450 Week 46: Floating

SnappleApple 450
Saturday


Picture 1

Picture 2


SnappleApple 450's Choice: both


Title: Floating
Have you ever wanted to fly away? Simply float up to the heavens and disappear into the clouds? I have. Whether it be by growing wings like a fairy, sprouting feathers like a bird, or defying gravity like a balloon, I wanted to fly. ...Never once in my wildest nightmares did I think my wish would come true like it did...

When I was eighteen, I was diagnosed with cancer. My life seemed to be terminated. Expired. Suddenly I had a deadline on life, literally. My family did everything to pay for the best treatment. I hated watching them fall deeper and deeper in debt. I knew I was going to die so I didn’t want them to continue to pay for their dead daughter’s hospital bill. It was a morbid way to look at life, but when death is knocking on your door, you don’t hold many optimistic thoughts of the future. Mostly I thought about what I was leaving behind, what I hadn’t done yet, what I needed to do before I died. Surprisingly, having my first kiss wasn’t a big deal to me. I mean, yeah, every girl dreams about their first true love, but I had my family and with my life soon to end, I didn’t want to bring anyone else in only to say goodbye.

The last thing my dad did for me before I died was take me skydiving. The rush of falling through the sky was indescribable. I cried on the way back to the hospital that day. Not sad tears and not flat out bawling either. I hadn’t cried even once that entire year on the hellish ride, but I did on that car ride. My wish was granted. I flew...

I died that night. My family cried. A few of the nurses even cried. They said I had a spirit not even death could kill. My little brother didn’t talk for a whole month after my funeral. I continued to watch over my family. Everyone was so sad. I wished I could make them happy, but I couldn’t. I worried most about my brother, he didn’t go back to his former self. It was like he retreated into a shell and never wanted to come out again. And then one night, my little brother went downstairs long after his bedtime and showed my parents a picture he drew.

“Look.”
“What is it, sweetie?” My mother asked, taking the paper from him. She saw the girl flying through the clouds and sky with large white wings.
“What is this?” My father whispered.
My little brother smiled for the first time in a long time. “She’s finally flying.”

And just like that, I knew my family was going to be alright...