This is just a short part in one of my stories that I (strangely) was really proud of. It's from one of the stories that's all connected to most everything else I write.
Atara had enjoyed dinner, seeing all the little children, learning their names, but something felt strange. It hadn’t even been a full day since the fire, and she was suddenly acting like she had stepped into a paradise. She felt comforted, but that comfort was shrouded with guilt. It was almost as if she was glad her parents were dead. The thought sickened her. Soon she hadn’t been able to spoon another portion of her stew into her mouth, and then she’d excused herself early. Now she sat here, on the bed of her new and unfamiliar bedroom, feeling strange, awkward, guilty; she thought that she would become diseased because of it. And then something came to her mind that seemed to punch her in the stomach, stick a lump in her throat, give her a headache—no, a heartache.
Lord Verdisis and Lady Maiream were her parents, and they were dead.
Atara’s home was gone.
Nothing could bring anything back.
And she couldn’t do anything about any of it.
Atara put her hand over her aching heart and began to hyperventilate. Her breathing felt hard and slow, but she knew it was coming fast, terrifyingly fast. She was paying so much attention to her alarming breathing that she couldn’t feel the large, burning tears that spilled, cascaded down her cheeks until she had fallen onto her pillow and begun sobbing loudly, as if she would cry her heart out through her throat and die with tears never dry on her face. She wanted to die; it didn’t seem so scary and final anymore. It felt so appropriate! She didn’t even think of how Jaren would feel if she did die. All that was happening to her now was her tears, not even simply tears but more a waterfall made out of sorrow, stinging on her cheeks, and the pillow that was becoming ever wetter. Atara didn’t even know her own voice when it let out a pitiful, wrenching wail, and how it moaned of its own accord. She began hiccoughing and gasping for breath in a strange, distressed manner.
This—this horror, this nightmare was consuming her; Atara was falling into a pit of despair. It was as if she looked down upon herself, inside a dark, wet hole, looking thin, pale, sullen, gaunt, and even aged. The vision showed her writhing and thrashing around dangerously in pain. Atara didn’t know herself; she just wanted to forget it, forget everything, and maybe even forget what had happened and who she was.
Suddenly the vision simply went away, and everything became dark. Atara felt exhausted and lost, and then her thoughts and feelings became mixed in a pot of nothing.
She slept soundly and heavily all night.
Atara didn’t leave her bed when she woke in the morning, neither did she leave it at noon. She ate nothing and fell asleep crying again. That night she had a dream, or at least something she had seen during the night.
She was walking through a hall that was very simple and plain, the floor, walls, and ceiling made of wood, small sconces lit with drooping, mostly melted candles. She smelled something that must have been old, maybe even dead, and she looked for a room it must have been coming from. Then she realized, there were no doors lined along the corridor, only the sconces that held the melting candles, which she noticed, were red. A whisper seemed to tap her shoulder, and say, “Atara, we love you,” and it echoed through the hallway. The voice repeated the same words, and this time Atara could tell that it was a woman’s voice speaking. All the candles then flared for a sudden second, before returning to their normal sizes. Atara stared at them, for they each began dripping wax, and as it dropped onto the floor, she had expected it to hiss and smolder, but it did not. As the woman’s voice repeated the same loving words, it began to sound familiar. Atara put her hand under one of the candles and let the wax drip into her hand. To her surprise, it did not burn. Lifting her hand to see the wax in the candlelight, she suddenly screamed. It wasn’t wax. It was blood.
“Atara, we love you,” her mother whispered.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Video!
Okay, YouTube is being stupid, so I'm just going to attach it an e-mail if you want it and you guys can see it from there. It has basically everything I told you about in it, so enjoy. Oh, and a note: My camera can take video, but it doesn't have a microphone for some reason, so the marching band in the parade isn't really playing the theme to the Olympics. It just was good enough to play it and the theme was the best music I had that would go with it. Anyhow, tell me if you want it.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Aloha!
Alright, now that I'm finally onto giving you all the details of my trip to Hawaii, I have to say I'm glad I went, but I'm glad to be back! Thankfully, I've made a video of most of the pictures that I took so you can get a glimpse of what I saw. I'll note about some of the pictures while telling you about it, so be prepared. So, to start, our flight was early in the morning on Friday, so my parents wanted us all to get up at five (Eden and I thought "We'll just pretend we're getting ready for seminary!"), right? Well, it turns out that somehow Eden and I missed our alarm and got up at 5:30. Thankfully that wasn't a problem. So then we went to out cousins house, my aunt took us to the airport and then drove our car home, and we fly over to Los Angeles because my grandpa could only get us tickets that included a couple layovers. We had a six hour layover, so my parents decided we'd go out for lunch. Let me tell you that traveling on a bus in LA is TAXING! I'll tell you that it took us 2 hours to travel 7 miles to the pier. But we enjoyed our time eating at Bubba Gump Restaurant. Yummy shrimp!!! On our way back to the airport, we rode in a taxi...all seven of us. The only people who didn't have anyone sitting on their laps were the driver and my dad. Funny thing, our driver was from Armenia. He had a cool accent. It took us twenty minutes to get back to the airport. Yeah, buses don't really work.
So then we flew overnight to Kona (we got there at 10:00 there, but like midnight in Washington). We met our grandparents, drove to the condo we were staying in, unpacked a few things, and then bushed. We spent the day going to beaches and just planning out what we wanted to do on Hawaii. And the first thing that happens at the last beach we go to, my sister Reagan gets bitten by an eel. We'd been at the beach for 10 minutes and he gets bitten by a moray eel! Their called puhi in Hawaiian. So that night she gets to the condo and all these medical people come in and look at it, tell my parents she should go to the hospital, she could possibly get stitches, and blah blah blah. Just Reagan, my parents, and my grandpa went, while the rest of us stayed at the condo watching Shrek The Third (HECK YES!). She came back fine, and no stitches.
So then we went shopping in Kona and I got this really pretty necklace at a market and a pair of sunglasses that actually work for me! Oh, funny story: There are fruit stands at a market right? Well, my grandpa gets a bag of seven papayas because my mom didn't want anymore than that. But on the other side of the market, my grandma gets 14 papayas. That's 21 papayas! and we had to finish those in less than 5 days before we went to Oahu! so every morning my grandparents would try to stuff two of three papayas in all of our faces so they'd disappear. Oh! we went to the temple too and got some pretty shots!
On Sunday, it happened to be regional conference, which included ALL of the Polynesian islands. So we went to a ward and watched half of it and then left to go on a hike down to a black sand beach (and I got an amazing picture there!) where it was really warm. For the rest of the day we enjoyed beaching and taking pictures.
Monday we went to Hilo, the only real city on Hawaii, and we just took a good look at the gardens on the beach and then looked at the waterfalls. Tuesday we went snorkeling on a catamaran. It was awesome!!! On the way back we came across a hunting pod of dolphins and they started to swim along with the boat as if they were getting a free ride. It was SO COOL! And one of the guys on the crew of the boat actually came from Lakewood. Small world. On Wednesday we went to this ice cream social that included all the people staying in the condos (They were Hiltons, you know) and they had a band playing outside. Thursday we just window shopped at the small outlet and then flew to Oahu.
And Oahu had all the interesting things! I'll tell you, you heard someplace playing Brown-Eyed Girl every day. We basically stayed in a small apartment in Waikiki (7 people in an apartment! I know, isn't that crazy?) because even though my mom had asked for two rooms, the lady running the place didn't give it to us for some reason (the place was basically empty except for us) but she still charged us for the same price of getting both rooms. Rip off! Both of my parents were ticked and the lady got a talk before we left.
For dinner we at at Duke's, which was really good, and then we to this big market that sells everything! Reagan got this coupon from these guys who sold pearl jewelery that basically got her whatever came out of the clam for $5! And what does she get? Two pink pearls out of one clamshell. Call that LUCKY! I would have gotten this pretty pair of earrings that looked like it had a nice Celtic design, but I learned that it was embeded with blue coral and it was $70! I only had $30, so no, it didn't work. It was funny when people asked us how long we'd been there. When we said that we'd just gotten there that day everyone would say "Oh, cool! Welcome! Happy Thanksgiving!" That night there was a holiday parade that we all watched (it was less than half a block from our "hotel room") and it was really cool. It had bands, Pearl Harbor survivors, dance groups, military vehicles, and Santa Claus!
The next day my parents took us to a free continental breakfast buffet before they had this big talk thing with this really nice lady about hotel rooms in this really awesome place (we got a mini-tour of it) that had hotel rooms that had up to four bedrooms! Hecka exspensive! But most of the time, all us kids did homework and watched Happy Feet :D Then we went shopping for groceries and I got the pair of earrings my mom had been begging me to find throughout the whole trip.
Saturday was the best part. Saturday we went to watch a surfing competition and the Polynesian Cultural Center. We watched the Canoe Pageant, went to all of the 'islands' and saw all of the different cultures. The dancing was awesome! And those drummer guys were really funny, especially the Japanese guy. And the belt that this one lady had on was awesome. I'm jealous! You'll see it on a lady talking into a microphone in the video. At this one place, this guy was demonstrating how to use different parts of a palm tree, and he made toys, a dish (which we got to keep), a headband (which I got to keep. He even smoothed my hair out when he stuck it on my head), and he had some ready-made baskests to show us, and tons of other things that can be made out of just a palm tree. We ate dinner at the restaurant that is there, where they showed a luau. They had cooked this pig, and it was huge! I didn't get the best picture of it because even with the flash my camera was too far away to get it clearly, and it was pointless to take a picture after it had been cut up. Then we went to the temple on that island, but I didn't take any pictures (i don't know why, it looked really cool at night) before we saw the dance show at the PCC called Horizons. Oh, it was just amazing!
Sunday was half laze-around and do homework day and half visit Pearl Harbor day. It was really laid back, but we were happy to rest. Monday we prepared to to leave, my mom gave away all of our bus passes to people while we waited for our shuttle to come. So at the airport (and this is funny) I happened to notice this family with a kid that looked like someone in my band class, but they were in a different part of the terminal. But as we're boarding, I see them getting on the plane, so apparently they had been waiting in the wrong area. In the morning we land in LA again, but we only have a 2 hour layover this time. So while waiting for our flight, who happens to be continuing onto Seattle? This guy and his family are going to Seattle, just like us. I just thought it was crazy that they were going from Hawaii to Seattle just my family, so I had to get a picture. The kid in the green jacket looks like the person in my band class.
So, we got home and spent Tuesday sleeping and finishing homework. And now I'm back at school, everyone says I'm tan even though I don't think I am, and all of my friends enjoyed a souvenir of chocolate covered macadamia nuts. I hope you didn't fall asleep. I'll post the video later. But as for now, I'm finishing homework and getting to bed. Goodbye!
So then we flew overnight to Kona (we got there at 10:00 there, but like midnight in Washington). We met our grandparents, drove to the condo we were staying in, unpacked a few things, and then bushed. We spent the day going to beaches and just planning out what we wanted to do on Hawaii. And the first thing that happens at the last beach we go to, my sister Reagan gets bitten by an eel. We'd been at the beach for 10 minutes and he gets bitten by a moray eel! Their called puhi in Hawaiian. So that night she gets to the condo and all these medical people come in and look at it, tell my parents she should go to the hospital, she could possibly get stitches, and blah blah blah. Just Reagan, my parents, and my grandpa went, while the rest of us stayed at the condo watching Shrek The Third (HECK YES!). She came back fine, and no stitches.
So then we went shopping in Kona and I got this really pretty necklace at a market and a pair of sunglasses that actually work for me! Oh, funny story: There are fruit stands at a market right? Well, my grandpa gets a bag of seven papayas because my mom didn't want anymore than that. But on the other side of the market, my grandma gets 14 papayas. That's 21 papayas! and we had to finish those in less than 5 days before we went to Oahu! so every morning my grandparents would try to stuff two of three papayas in all of our faces so they'd disappear. Oh! we went to the temple too and got some pretty shots!
On Sunday, it happened to be regional conference, which included ALL of the Polynesian islands. So we went to a ward and watched half of it and then left to go on a hike down to a black sand beach (and I got an amazing picture there!) where it was really warm. For the rest of the day we enjoyed beaching and taking pictures.
Monday we went to Hilo, the only real city on Hawaii, and we just took a good look at the gardens on the beach and then looked at the waterfalls. Tuesday we went snorkeling on a catamaran. It was awesome!!! On the way back we came across a hunting pod of dolphins and they started to swim along with the boat as if they were getting a free ride. It was SO COOL! And one of the guys on the crew of the boat actually came from Lakewood. Small world. On Wednesday we went to this ice cream social that included all the people staying in the condos (They were Hiltons, you know) and they had a band playing outside. Thursday we just window shopped at the small outlet and then flew to Oahu.
And Oahu had all the interesting things! I'll tell you, you heard someplace playing Brown-Eyed Girl every day. We basically stayed in a small apartment in Waikiki (7 people in an apartment! I know, isn't that crazy?) because even though my mom had asked for two rooms, the lady running the place didn't give it to us for some reason (the place was basically empty except for us) but she still charged us for the same price of getting both rooms. Rip off! Both of my parents were ticked and the lady got a talk before we left.
For dinner we at at Duke's, which was really good, and then we to this big market that sells everything! Reagan got this coupon from these guys who sold pearl jewelery that basically got her whatever came out of the clam for $5! And what does she get? Two pink pearls out of one clamshell. Call that LUCKY! I would have gotten this pretty pair of earrings that looked like it had a nice Celtic design, but I learned that it was embeded with blue coral and it was $70! I only had $30, so no, it didn't work. It was funny when people asked us how long we'd been there. When we said that we'd just gotten there that day everyone would say "Oh, cool! Welcome! Happy Thanksgiving!" That night there was a holiday parade that we all watched (it was less than half a block from our "hotel room") and it was really cool. It had bands, Pearl Harbor survivors, dance groups, military vehicles, and Santa Claus!
The next day my parents took us to a free continental breakfast buffet before they had this big talk thing with this really nice lady about hotel rooms in this really awesome place (we got a mini-tour of it) that had hotel rooms that had up to four bedrooms! Hecka exspensive! But most of the time, all us kids did homework and watched Happy Feet :D Then we went shopping for groceries and I got the pair of earrings my mom had been begging me to find throughout the whole trip.
Saturday was the best part. Saturday we went to watch a surfing competition and the Polynesian Cultural Center. We watched the Canoe Pageant, went to all of the 'islands' and saw all of the different cultures. The dancing was awesome! And those drummer guys were really funny, especially the Japanese guy. And the belt that this one lady had on was awesome. I'm jealous! You'll see it on a lady talking into a microphone in the video. At this one place, this guy was demonstrating how to use different parts of a palm tree, and he made toys, a dish (which we got to keep), a headband (which I got to keep. He even smoothed my hair out when he stuck it on my head), and he had some ready-made baskests to show us, and tons of other things that can be made out of just a palm tree. We ate dinner at the restaurant that is there, where they showed a luau. They had cooked this pig, and it was huge! I didn't get the best picture of it because even with the flash my camera was too far away to get it clearly, and it was pointless to take a picture after it had been cut up. Then we went to the temple on that island, but I didn't take any pictures (i don't know why, it looked really cool at night) before we saw the dance show at the PCC called Horizons. Oh, it was just amazing!
Sunday was half laze-around and do homework day and half visit Pearl Harbor day. It was really laid back, but we were happy to rest. Monday we prepared to to leave, my mom gave away all of our bus passes to people while we waited for our shuttle to come. So at the airport (and this is funny) I happened to notice this family with a kid that looked like someone in my band class, but they were in a different part of the terminal. But as we're boarding, I see them getting on the plane, so apparently they had been waiting in the wrong area. In the morning we land in LA again, but we only have a 2 hour layover this time. So while waiting for our flight, who happens to be continuing onto Seattle? This guy and his family are going to Seattle, just like us. I just thought it was crazy that they were going from Hawaii to Seattle just my family, so I had to get a picture. The kid in the green jacket looks like the person in my band class.
So, we got home and spent Tuesday sleeping and finishing homework. And now I'm back at school, everyone says I'm tan even though I don't think I am, and all of my friends enjoyed a souvenir of chocolate covered macadamia nuts. I hope you didn't fall asleep. I'll post the video later. But as for now, I'm finishing homework and getting to bed. Goodbye!
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Another Spoiler!
Alright. this one actually has a chapter heading! But this isn't the full chapter this time. This is just the beginning. But I proofread it a little bit and I think that for starting this in fifth grade, it's really good (even though I've had chances to enhance it). Enjoy!
Chapter 2:
Tyrants of the Forest
The girl was hurt, poor thing. She wondered why she had to suffer the pain and why no one seemed to care for her. She guessed that she was probably the only one who knew her own name, Maritire. Tucking her waving red hair behind her ears, she clutched her ankle, holding it as delicately as if it were a valuable glass object. Maritire sat on the forest floor, wishing she were somewhere different, somewhere wonderful, instead of being this nomad orphan stuck in a great wood. She was lucky to be caring for her foot at the moment, having been nearly killed numerous times in her life. She thought of all the memories, all the things she had gone through. Several thoughts came to mind.
She squeezed her eyes to shut everything out. Maritire knew she was a complete wreck, feeling selfish at her own spoiled thoughts. She had thought she could outrun that thrice cursed dark person, but then the rock had come out of nowhere, and set her foot turning at a weird angle. Barefoot, too, which meant that all the cuts around the wound could become infected, and there would be no one to tend to them. Why didn’t a bear as well make her his dinner now? Her only question was why the person had run on and left her alone after chasing her for so long.
Oh, she could just picture the bear lumbering to her, sniffing the air and breathing heavily in its brutish way. And then he’d smell everything; the blood, the meat on her bones, her human scent, the stench she had gained since she last came to a deeper part of the stream and bathed. It would be two seconds, a simple blow on the head, and she would be over. Maritire didn’t see the point of her wandering anymore either because it had gotten her nowhere, and everywhere it took her chased her away quickly. She’d liked it when there had been a home for her, a bed, and a family. The bear image suddenly shifted into something about the same size, but several times more menacing.
Shutting her eyes again, Maritire hoped that she didn’t have to remember, that she didn’t need to think of it now. But her memory groped for it, against her own will, clawing at her eyelids so they would stay open to the past. These moments were the times that kept her vigilant because of what they reminded her of. Maritire had to keep the horrid memory intact, only so that she kept the will to live and again knew her mission. The heat in her chest grew, all the images swirling to get in order, to where everything had begun. To the beginning, when she’d had all that she needed, now all vanished. The cursed klethimobix.
Her mother, lying in bed, called her name with a hoarse voice, saying,
“Maritire, I want you to take care of your father the best you can. I know your so young, but do what you know.” Maritire’s high-pitched six-year-old voice sobbed,
“You’re not going to die Momma. Poppa can take care of himself. Why am I taking care of him?” A small chuckle was followed with,
“Because he’ll lament my death. And yes, I know it’s sad, but I am dying.” Tears flowed down both of her cheeks. She was gasping now. “Try—you m-must t-try to b-be good, p-please?” All Maritire could do was nod yes and leave the room while her mother fell into a soft slumber.
Maritire was seven now. Her mother lay in bed, coughing in a horrible manner. Her father held her shoulder tightly, hoping for his wife’s survival.
“Maritire,” he said. “Go into your room and do anything you are able to do in there that will occupy yourself, alright?” His voice shook slightly. Maritire didn’t hesitate, but she ran through the house, tears flowing all over her face, wishing her mother would either die now or be cured forever. She hated klethimobix. Hate was the best she could do for it. So Maritire let her wrath wring out until she couldn’t cry anymore. By then she was asleep and she could let the years pass until she saw the day her mother left.
She woke in the morning and rushed to her mother’s room. Thank heaven she was still alive, but the klethimobix had now taken her mother’s voice along with the hearing that had been gone for months. All Maritire could think of was how much she pitied the sight of her invalid mother, too sick to speak, hear, and soon she wouldn’t have the right to see her pretty daughter’s face. She hated klethimobix.
Maritire was now eight, glad that she could have at least a couple weeks with her mother before she died. The sad part was that her mother couldn’t speak, hear, see, or feel things physically. She was frail and whiter than a ghost, with an exception of the yellow blisters that had been all over her skin since the beginning of it.
During supper, Maritire had a feeling that something, or someone, was coming to her home. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling at all; she was afraid of what might happen. Her mother could die any moment, and people would take her away to be buried, or Maritire would be taken away herself because her father would also die because of the pain. She didn’t speak to her father during the whole meal, but regretted it. A knock sounded heavily on the door, as if the person wished to break the door down.
“Enter.” her father said solemnly. With a loud boom, the door slammed wide open and in marched five large men in dark cloaks and hoods that covered their faces and an assortment of things on their belts.
“Your daughter is to come with us,” One of them addressed her father in a determined tone. It was almost frightening. “You may not make any disagreements, sir.” Maritire looked at her father apprehensively. They would not take her away, even if he did die out of a broken heart! At the man’s words, her father looked at them seriously and told them,
“My daughter has no importance to you whatsoever.” The one who had spoken shifted onto another foot.
“I believe you are mistaken.” He took a strong hold of Maritire’s arm.
“No!” her father cried. “You will not take my daughter away; do you hear me! “ the men began pulling her toward the door. “She has a mother to tend to and a family. You will—” He stopped. The lead man was dragging her out the door roughly, and another stood outside ready to take her up into his arms. Raising his voice, her father cried, “If you ever knock at my home again, there will be no mercy!” Maritire was frightened at her father’s words, for these men were twice his size, and her father also had no weapon with him. What scared her worse was that these men wanted her for something she was sure had to be dreadful, but she didn’t know what it was. The one holding her fingered the hilt of a sword at his side with the other hand.
“You shall not hinder us, man!” said another of the men. “I swear by our master, we will take your daughter with us or your family will die before we do!” And with that he drew a sword and advanced on Maritire’s father. The first let go of her and followed suit as all five of the men came toward her father. Maritire stared at her father fearfully, unable to move. Closing her eyes tightly, and then opening them again, she turned and ran before she could see the rest of the horror that had been wrought.
Crying, dashing blindly, she prayed to her god, wishing—hoping—that her parents would be all right, knowing that her efforts were fruitless. After many hours, she was so exhausted that she fell on her face into the winter snow and cried herself to sleep, curling into fetal position. Later she woke and crawled into a hollow at the bottom of a great tree and there she fell asleep until she would run again.
Maritire brought herself back to senses and shivered hard and long. That day had been not only the worst, but the devil owned it himself. She knew those men still awaited her somewhere, to take her life for the reason she didn’t know. Whatever master they served knew her, and Maritire was sure that whatever purpose she had was powerful enough to stir someone evil, even though she didn’t know what it was herself. The thought of her mother drove her mad, the idea of her father was loathsome, but thinking of herself and the way she had managed to stay alive was truly enough to curdle the world. She wanted to face those men someday, no longer a small eight-year-old, strong and wise, and defeat them all, though it seemed highly unlikely that would ever happen.
Then she remembered the darkly dressed person who had been chasing her before. The temperature seemed to drop as she thought of what his purpose might have been. Or maybe she was trapped in this forest! He’d chased her just to get her scared, and then when she stopped believing that she’s was in pursuit, strangers would come up all over and try to take her away to the master one of those men had spoken of. But Maritire thought, it still could all be ridiculous anyhow and the man had mistaken her for someone else. He could possibly have been someone who was thrown out of a city because he had a dangerous mental condition. But what were the odds of that?
Quieting her unhappy thoughts, Maritire listened carefully, and heard a trickle from somewhere far off. Oh, why did she have to smash her foot on that stupid rock? Slowly scooting towards the sound, she made her way over to a small stream, which didn’t look pleasing. Taking a handful of the muddy water, she splashed it onto her scratched up face, then she washed her foot, which was throbbing with pain.
The wood was filled with grand trees that looked down on her in a condescending way. Their boughs sat as if on hips, their hollows glaring at her in shame. Maritire almost told them to quit staring at her, and then reminded herself they were only trees. Yet she believed trees had great power. They housed hundreds of creatures, whispered messages in the wind, and sheltered the ground from the rain. But because they sheltered the rain, they held it all to themselves. This made the trees tyrants of the forest. Her washing ritual continued for a while, as she sat watching the wood, and then Maritire retired to sleep.
Restlessness ran in her brain, as if the slight paranoia that she’d gained could wake though she herself slept. It drove her far from where she lay, far from the wood and the stream, but no further from pain.
She was standing on a tall hill, seeing a vast valley before her eyes, with a war raging below. It was dark in that valley, yet moonlight shone on her hill. The cries from below were anguished and desperate. Horses fell, men fell, flags fell. Fire flew from the hands of a group of men all garbed in black, their faces grinning maliciously. Looking to the east, Maritire saw a light flare in a tent as a young man helped a young woman inside. As they entered, their silhouettes told that the woman had been lain down. Had she been wounded? Two hands joined together above her face; she was still conscious. Maritire turned back to the battle out in the field.
She seemed to be getting sick by the sight of bloodshed when a darkness came over her. The white dress she wore seemed to glow, and was the only source of light throughout the area. The noise of the battle ceased, leaving her clueless of direction. A breath sounded behind her, and with a turn she faced something she couldn’t see. It was someone, or something, her size; it must have been human. Hearing a whistling noise in the air around her, the hilt of a sword collided with her head, leaving Maritire to fall unconscious to the ground, blood blending in with her hair.
Seeing her fallen figure, Maritire woke and sat upright, nearly hyperventilating with shock. A dream about war didn’t feel good. It added to all the other ideas that she so hated. Looking all around her, Maritire gasped.
The place where she had fallen asleep wasn’t the same. It was elevated, so it felt like a round top. She couldn’t see anything very well, it was dark. Shaking with terror, she pulled herself into a more comfortable sitting position. After a while she adjusted to the darkness and she saw her dream hill. Nothing was raging around it; she was glad of that. She was also fortunate not to be wearing white, but a plain brown. Maritire felt her forehead, hoping she was seeing things. Something had dried there; she felt it all down her face and over the scalp. Was the dream real? That was impossible. And she was not a victim of near death—again.
Maritire shifted her weight so that she didn’t disturb her ankle as much. Her dream was really frightening to her, for one who had been nearly killed probably thousands of times. It reminded her of when she’d had to watch her parents get killed, though that was far different from the dream. In the dream many people had been dying, and Maritire might have been witnessing the last moments of a very young woman.
She felt at her bodice, and finally grabbed hold of the picture she’d drawn of her parents when she was younger. The lines were perfect, the shading exact. She fingered the hair she had done on her mother, as if trying to stroke it vicariously through the drawing. A teardrop fell on her finger, thankfully missing the paper so that it didn’t spoil the picture. Her only talent seemed to be art. It was a work that she knew deserved a frame. Before she could spoil the picture, she tucked it back into her bodice and wiped her eyes. Maritire could make herself seem so strong, but inside everything was weak, like rubber. She hated showing weakness because she knew it would be disgraceful. At least, it would be if it were shown before someone she cared about or before people who looked up to her. Thankfully, there were none of those categories.
Well, she had to sleep the night out now, strange place or not. No more thoughts, no more worries, let the head stay down. Maritire tried hard to simply listen to the gentle breeze around her. Soon her mind calmed and she laid herself back down.
Chapter 2:
Tyrants of the Forest
The girl was hurt, poor thing. She wondered why she had to suffer the pain and why no one seemed to care for her. She guessed that she was probably the only one who knew her own name, Maritire. Tucking her waving red hair behind her ears, she clutched her ankle, holding it as delicately as if it were a valuable glass object. Maritire sat on the forest floor, wishing she were somewhere different, somewhere wonderful, instead of being this nomad orphan stuck in a great wood. She was lucky to be caring for her foot at the moment, having been nearly killed numerous times in her life. She thought of all the memories, all the things she had gone through. Several thoughts came to mind.
She squeezed her eyes to shut everything out. Maritire knew she was a complete wreck, feeling selfish at her own spoiled thoughts. She had thought she could outrun that thrice cursed dark person, but then the rock had come out of nowhere, and set her foot turning at a weird angle. Barefoot, too, which meant that all the cuts around the wound could become infected, and there would be no one to tend to them. Why didn’t a bear as well make her his dinner now? Her only question was why the person had run on and left her alone after chasing her for so long.
Oh, she could just picture the bear lumbering to her, sniffing the air and breathing heavily in its brutish way. And then he’d smell everything; the blood, the meat on her bones, her human scent, the stench she had gained since she last came to a deeper part of the stream and bathed. It would be two seconds, a simple blow on the head, and she would be over. Maritire didn’t see the point of her wandering anymore either because it had gotten her nowhere, and everywhere it took her chased her away quickly. She’d liked it when there had been a home for her, a bed, and a family. The bear image suddenly shifted into something about the same size, but several times more menacing.
Shutting her eyes again, Maritire hoped that she didn’t have to remember, that she didn’t need to think of it now. But her memory groped for it, against her own will, clawing at her eyelids so they would stay open to the past. These moments were the times that kept her vigilant because of what they reminded her of. Maritire had to keep the horrid memory intact, only so that she kept the will to live and again knew her mission. The heat in her chest grew, all the images swirling to get in order, to where everything had begun. To the beginning, when she’d had all that she needed, now all vanished. The cursed klethimobix.
Her mother, lying in bed, called her name with a hoarse voice, saying,
“Maritire, I want you to take care of your father the best you can. I know your so young, but do what you know.” Maritire’s high-pitched six-year-old voice sobbed,
“You’re not going to die Momma. Poppa can take care of himself. Why am I taking care of him?” A small chuckle was followed with,
“Because he’ll lament my death. And yes, I know it’s sad, but I am dying.” Tears flowed down both of her cheeks. She was gasping now. “Try—you m-must t-try to b-be good, p-please?” All Maritire could do was nod yes and leave the room while her mother fell into a soft slumber.
Maritire was seven now. Her mother lay in bed, coughing in a horrible manner. Her father held her shoulder tightly, hoping for his wife’s survival.
“Maritire,” he said. “Go into your room and do anything you are able to do in there that will occupy yourself, alright?” His voice shook slightly. Maritire didn’t hesitate, but she ran through the house, tears flowing all over her face, wishing her mother would either die now or be cured forever. She hated klethimobix. Hate was the best she could do for it. So Maritire let her wrath wring out until she couldn’t cry anymore. By then she was asleep and she could let the years pass until she saw the day her mother left.
She woke in the morning and rushed to her mother’s room. Thank heaven she was still alive, but the klethimobix had now taken her mother’s voice along with the hearing that had been gone for months. All Maritire could think of was how much she pitied the sight of her invalid mother, too sick to speak, hear, and soon she wouldn’t have the right to see her pretty daughter’s face. She hated klethimobix.
Maritire was now eight, glad that she could have at least a couple weeks with her mother before she died. The sad part was that her mother couldn’t speak, hear, see, or feel things physically. She was frail and whiter than a ghost, with an exception of the yellow blisters that had been all over her skin since the beginning of it.
During supper, Maritire had a feeling that something, or someone, was coming to her home. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling at all; she was afraid of what might happen. Her mother could die any moment, and people would take her away to be buried, or Maritire would be taken away herself because her father would also die because of the pain. She didn’t speak to her father during the whole meal, but regretted it. A knock sounded heavily on the door, as if the person wished to break the door down.
“Enter.” her father said solemnly. With a loud boom, the door slammed wide open and in marched five large men in dark cloaks and hoods that covered their faces and an assortment of things on their belts.
“Your daughter is to come with us,” One of them addressed her father in a determined tone. It was almost frightening. “You may not make any disagreements, sir.” Maritire looked at her father apprehensively. They would not take her away, even if he did die out of a broken heart! At the man’s words, her father looked at them seriously and told them,
“My daughter has no importance to you whatsoever.” The one who had spoken shifted onto another foot.
“I believe you are mistaken.” He took a strong hold of Maritire’s arm.
“No!” her father cried. “You will not take my daughter away; do you hear me! “ the men began pulling her toward the door. “She has a mother to tend to and a family. You will—” He stopped. The lead man was dragging her out the door roughly, and another stood outside ready to take her up into his arms. Raising his voice, her father cried, “If you ever knock at my home again, there will be no mercy!” Maritire was frightened at her father’s words, for these men were twice his size, and her father also had no weapon with him. What scared her worse was that these men wanted her for something she was sure had to be dreadful, but she didn’t know what it was. The one holding her fingered the hilt of a sword at his side with the other hand.
“You shall not hinder us, man!” said another of the men. “I swear by our master, we will take your daughter with us or your family will die before we do!” And with that he drew a sword and advanced on Maritire’s father. The first let go of her and followed suit as all five of the men came toward her father. Maritire stared at her father fearfully, unable to move. Closing her eyes tightly, and then opening them again, she turned and ran before she could see the rest of the horror that had been wrought.
Crying, dashing blindly, she prayed to her god, wishing—hoping—that her parents would be all right, knowing that her efforts were fruitless. After many hours, she was so exhausted that she fell on her face into the winter snow and cried herself to sleep, curling into fetal position. Later she woke and crawled into a hollow at the bottom of a great tree and there she fell asleep until she would run again.
Maritire brought herself back to senses and shivered hard and long. That day had been not only the worst, but the devil owned it himself. She knew those men still awaited her somewhere, to take her life for the reason she didn’t know. Whatever master they served knew her, and Maritire was sure that whatever purpose she had was powerful enough to stir someone evil, even though she didn’t know what it was herself. The thought of her mother drove her mad, the idea of her father was loathsome, but thinking of herself and the way she had managed to stay alive was truly enough to curdle the world. She wanted to face those men someday, no longer a small eight-year-old, strong and wise, and defeat them all, though it seemed highly unlikely that would ever happen.
Then she remembered the darkly dressed person who had been chasing her before. The temperature seemed to drop as she thought of what his purpose might have been. Or maybe she was trapped in this forest! He’d chased her just to get her scared, and then when she stopped believing that she’s was in pursuit, strangers would come up all over and try to take her away to the master one of those men had spoken of. But Maritire thought, it still could all be ridiculous anyhow and the man had mistaken her for someone else. He could possibly have been someone who was thrown out of a city because he had a dangerous mental condition. But what were the odds of that?
Quieting her unhappy thoughts, Maritire listened carefully, and heard a trickle from somewhere far off. Oh, why did she have to smash her foot on that stupid rock? Slowly scooting towards the sound, she made her way over to a small stream, which didn’t look pleasing. Taking a handful of the muddy water, she splashed it onto her scratched up face, then she washed her foot, which was throbbing with pain.
The wood was filled with grand trees that looked down on her in a condescending way. Their boughs sat as if on hips, their hollows glaring at her in shame. Maritire almost told them to quit staring at her, and then reminded herself they were only trees. Yet she believed trees had great power. They housed hundreds of creatures, whispered messages in the wind, and sheltered the ground from the rain. But because they sheltered the rain, they held it all to themselves. This made the trees tyrants of the forest. Her washing ritual continued for a while, as she sat watching the wood, and then Maritire retired to sleep.
Restlessness ran in her brain, as if the slight paranoia that she’d gained could wake though she herself slept. It drove her far from where she lay, far from the wood and the stream, but no further from pain.
She was standing on a tall hill, seeing a vast valley before her eyes, with a war raging below. It was dark in that valley, yet moonlight shone on her hill. The cries from below were anguished and desperate. Horses fell, men fell, flags fell. Fire flew from the hands of a group of men all garbed in black, their faces grinning maliciously. Looking to the east, Maritire saw a light flare in a tent as a young man helped a young woman inside. As they entered, their silhouettes told that the woman had been lain down. Had she been wounded? Two hands joined together above her face; she was still conscious. Maritire turned back to the battle out in the field.
She seemed to be getting sick by the sight of bloodshed when a darkness came over her. The white dress she wore seemed to glow, and was the only source of light throughout the area. The noise of the battle ceased, leaving her clueless of direction. A breath sounded behind her, and with a turn she faced something she couldn’t see. It was someone, or something, her size; it must have been human. Hearing a whistling noise in the air around her, the hilt of a sword collided with her head, leaving Maritire to fall unconscious to the ground, blood blending in with her hair.
Seeing her fallen figure, Maritire woke and sat upright, nearly hyperventilating with shock. A dream about war didn’t feel good. It added to all the other ideas that she so hated. Looking all around her, Maritire gasped.
The place where she had fallen asleep wasn’t the same. It was elevated, so it felt like a round top. She couldn’t see anything very well, it was dark. Shaking with terror, she pulled herself into a more comfortable sitting position. After a while she adjusted to the darkness and she saw her dream hill. Nothing was raging around it; she was glad of that. She was also fortunate not to be wearing white, but a plain brown. Maritire felt her forehead, hoping she was seeing things. Something had dried there; she felt it all down her face and over the scalp. Was the dream real? That was impossible. And she was not a victim of near death—again.
Maritire shifted her weight so that she didn’t disturb her ankle as much. Her dream was really frightening to her, for one who had been nearly killed probably thousands of times. It reminded her of when she’d had to watch her parents get killed, though that was far different from the dream. In the dream many people had been dying, and Maritire might have been witnessing the last moments of a very young woman.
She felt at her bodice, and finally grabbed hold of the picture she’d drawn of her parents when she was younger. The lines were perfect, the shading exact. She fingered the hair she had done on her mother, as if trying to stroke it vicariously through the drawing. A teardrop fell on her finger, thankfully missing the paper so that it didn’t spoil the picture. Her only talent seemed to be art. It was a work that she knew deserved a frame. Before she could spoil the picture, she tucked it back into her bodice and wiped her eyes. Maritire could make herself seem so strong, but inside everything was weak, like rubber. She hated showing weakness because she knew it would be disgraceful. At least, it would be if it were shown before someone she cared about or before people who looked up to her. Thankfully, there were none of those categories.
Well, she had to sleep the night out now, strange place or not. No more thoughts, no more worries, let the head stay down. Maritire tried hard to simply listen to the gentle breeze around her. Soon her mind calmed and she laid herself back down.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Hello!
I really don't feel like saying much, so whatever comes out goes out in here. I've been pretty fine lately, and I guess I have no reason to feel unenthusiastic because I'm leaving for Hawaii on Friday. Tonight at church we're making movies--I think. that's what I heard at least, and I'm sticking with it untl I get there and my idea is changed. Actually, I think we are because people were talking about using cameras and stuff, so yup, we're making movies. I don't know anything more specific than that. I'll take pictures to give you all an idea of what really went on. You know what? I'm going to put in a spoiler before I leave on Friday. That'll keep you readers busy. Just what story I'll use will be the issue. but it's my issue, not yours, so why bother you with it? I'm a little tired today. Okay, no I'm really tired. I scared someone in science because I got sick of them telling me what answers to certain questions were. Usually I don't bite their head off, but I think I did today. Oh well. We all have those days. Mine was just today. At least I have something to look forward to. Ta ta for now. Boing. Bounce. T-I-Double-Guh-ER. TIGGER. TTFN.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Miss Me?
I've been gone, I know, and I really don't have that much time now, but for all of you who haven't heard much from me, this is for you. I've been doing pit orchestra fror the musical at school every school night except Fridays, and somehow Friday still doesn't end up being open. My Halloween was aweome though!!! Once I get pictures from my mom you'll get to see what i mean, and I'll tell you about it later. But, I had planned to be a minstrel (even though I couldn't exactly carry an instrument around all night through the neighborhood) just to find something that modified my costume. But then some kid who was in the musical camde looking for someone to take his awesome staff away because his mom thought Halloween was evil and if he came home with it he'd be dead, and I took the opportunity. I became a good sorceress instead. That's the summary for now, but I'll be back later!
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