In progress…continued

Careful to stay far enough under the water those above could not look down and see me I was fascinated by the strength of my eyesight. Despite the little sunlight that was filtering through to the depth in which I now swam I could see the rocky edges of the pool and the bubbles that formed where the water fell from above. Everything was a strange shade of blue, somewhat eerie, yet also comforting.

The further down I swam the cooler the water began to feel. The pool was a lot deeper that it looked. The bottom of the pool was flat rock, slightly slimy. There was no sign of life at this depth, and I began to crave the sunlight. I swam towards the cliff edge where the waterfall ended and started towards the surface. My experiment had been a success. Although I was beginning to miss the sunlight, I had not yet craved oxygen.

As I swam towards the surface I noticed something in the cliff face behind where the waterfall fell. It was an opening. My curiosity peaked, and I could not resist a look inside, if indeed there was anything inside. The cave was filled with water, but was sloping upwards, which led me to believe I would surface at some point. My instinct was correct, and I surfaced in a small pool, maybe 2 metres in diameter. The cavern was larger than I had expected, and I climbed out of the pool onto cool smooth rocks. It was obvious that sunlight had never touched this place, and the cool air chilled my skin, despite my resistance. The most unnatural thing about the cavern did not come to my attention immediately. It was the fact that I could still see. Absolute darkness should be unnerving, and I should definitely not be able to see. Yet there was something that lit the cavern that I could not comprehend.

The cool air was starting to bother me, and so I decided that I should head back to the surface and put my clothes back on. There were a couple other things I wanted to try before heading back to the campsite. Diving back into the pool I swam back down the cave before surfacing underneath the waterfall. Keeping an ear out for voices above I heard nothing, and assumed my fellow campers had started their hike back.

Pulling myself from the water I picked up my clothes and climbed up the tree to the top of the cliff to double check and make sure there was no one left. Confirming the silence with the sight of an empty river bank I ran along the edge of the river as fast as I could for about a kilometre and back in an attempt to dry myself. Once back at the top of the waterfall I figured I was dry enough and put my clothes back on.

In progress

Today I may have spent some time writing instead of doing some work. But I had flashes of inspiration, and it’s sort of a dream I had this morning.

—

I ran along the edge of the river testing my speed, trying to push my limits.  There was a reason I had declined the opportunity to go hiking with the other campers, and that was I wanted to test my abilities. They had left several hours ago, and yet in my short sprint I had probably covered an equal amount of distance.  I came to a sudden halt as I reached a small clearing where the river became a small pool at the base of a waterfall.

Large trees stood at the base of the cliff on either side of the waterfall, the branches too far apart for an average climber to tackle. With ease I jumped to the first branch, easily 3 metres from the ground. I landed with perfect balance, the thought of falling not even entering my mind. Within moments I was standing at the top of the cliff overlooking the forest and valley below.

My sensitive ears picked up the sound of voices and footsteps coming from further up the river. I recognised them as the voices of my fellow campers. They had spent the last 3 hours hiking to the very spot in which I now stood. They had, of course, had to go the long way, as it would have been impossible for them to climb the side of the cliff as I had.

It was tempting to stay where I stood and show off that I had made it effortlessly to where they had toiled to be. But I thought better of it, they would ask questions that I was forbidden to answer honestly. With my speed I needed little run up to jump the fast flowing river to the other side, hoping the hiking group would not cross or look too closely. I hid behind a few bushes which had grown along the banks.

Even from the other side of the river, and over the fast flowing water I could still clearly hear the conversation of the group. I focused on my three closest friends: Rebecca, Scott and Simone.

“I’m surprised Alissa didn’t come hiking with us,” I heard Rebecca say.

“She’s been a bit different lately. More reserved,” Scott, responded.

“I suppose she was never much a fan of the outdoors, but normally she would come just to hang out with us.”

“I dunno. I think something’s up. But she insists she fine,” Simone stated.

If only they knew.

“I just can’t believe how she convinced Mr George to let her stay behind, I wish I had been there to see that! He was all about compulsory participation and the great outdoors and fresh air,” Scott commented.

That had been my first real attempt at mind control. I couldn’t participate in group activities in my present state. I would show no sign of weakness or tiredness when all those around me were fatigued. I had not yet learned the ability of self control when it came to speed and strength. After all, this was all very new to me. It had been successful, and not witnessed by anyone while I was actually controlling his mind. When he said I could stay behind in front of witnesses it was just a gentle reminder I had placed in his mind. He appeared to be a little spaced out, but nothing too out of the ordinary.

“I know! If I thought we could get out of this I would have!” Simone objected. Of our circle of friends, she was the least active. We both encouraged each other in our laziness.

I was becoming bored of sitting still and decided that it was time to continue testing my new abilities. From behind the cover of the bushes I snuck to the tree that grew on the other side of the waterfall and climbed down. Before stepping into the clearing I looked back up at the hikers above, annoyed to notice a few standing at the edge looking down at the pool. I edged along the side of the cliff, hoping no one would look directly down. My next test was how long I could stay under water.

Shedding my outer clothing, I eased myself into the water I look a breath and dunked my head. Despite the fact the water in which I was now immersed was likely close to freezing it felt strangely warm. Opening my eyes I saw clearly the bubbles from where the water fell from overhead. Sinking lower into the water I moved away from the cover of the waterfall and into the pool. I couldn’t tell how long I had been under the water but it would have been over a minute and my lungs were not crying out for oxygen.

Metaphor

I wrote this one a while ago, but since I hadn’t posted anything for a bit I thought it would be good to share.

—

I sat across the table from the Monster and when he talked to me tiny black bug-like things would come from his mouth and attack me, burying themselves deep in my skin. They crawled through my body, intent on finding my heart. I could feel them as they began to bite at my heart, causing my eyes to fill with tears.

But the Monster only laughed at my weakness and sent another string of black bugs at me, causing more pain.

My mum gave me a sad look as she watched the Monster attack her child. But she could do nothing to protect me. If she tried to intervene she too would be attacked by the tiny black bugs.

As the insects ate away at my heart the pain worsened, and the tears that filled my eyes leaked out and rolled down my cheeks.

“That’s enough!” said my older brother Alex. He was fifteen, nearly twice my age; I was eight.

The Monster stood up and sent a string of bugs at Alex before hitting him across the face.

I cried even harder and the Monster attacked me more. The pain inside of me was becoming unbearable, and my tears were flowing freely.

Alex took my hand and led me out of the kitchen, away from the Monster.

“Wha’ d’you think you’re doin’ boy!” bellowed the Monster. “You won’ las’ long ou’ there!”

The Monster’s words were slurred but they no longer sent armies of bugs at us, but Alex still led me away from the house.

He took me outside and held my hand as he led me along the footpath to Mrs Walnet’s house, a few down from ours.

Now away from the Monster the bugs stopped their biting and my tears were wiped away by my brother’s hand.

Knocking on Mrs Walnet’s door, Alex spoke comforting words in my ear, and the pain in my heart was eased.

When Mrs Walnet answered the door and saw us standing there she invited us in. She took us into her kitchen and made us a mug of Milo each, talking to Alex about the Monster’s attack.

As I sipped at my Milo I felt the bugs being killed and washed away along with the pain that they had brought me.

Mrs Walnet and Alex told me that I would never have to worry about the Monster again, and that I was safe with her as she helped me into bed. I could tell she was telling the truth as she tucked me in and kissed me goodnight, something that my own mother was too afraid of doing because of the Monster.

But I would never have to face the Monster, or feel the pain of the tiny black bugs ever again.

As Alex and Mrs Walnet went back out into the kitchen Alex was still afraid for his brother’s well being. He knew his brother thought of their father as a monster, and his hurtful words as tiny black bugs that attacked his heart. Hopefully he would never have to see his brother in so much pain again, that was why he had taken his brother away that night.

The insects were gone, but the bite marks on his brother’s heart would be there forever.

Yay, more inspiration.

The lights flickered  as she heard her kettle come to boil. The electricity to her isolated forest home wasn’t always reliable, the lines long and difficult for the technicians to pin-point the source of the damage without it costing her a small fortune.  She poured the water into her mug and made her cup of tea, taking it to her cosy living and sitting on her well-loved couch.

As she picked up her book from the coffee table the lights flickered again and she sighed. Placing her book back down on the table she picked up the kerosene lamp. Given the frequency of her electricity problems she had learnt not to rely on it and had learned to enjoy the experience of reading by candle and lantern light.

In the next few hours that she read, she still did not feel tired. And by the time the clock struck eleven she knew that it was time for bed. For the last few months she had been suffering insomnia and so she tried to keep her sleep patterns regular. Marking the place in her book she placed it back on the table and went to the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and then went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. She still did not know the source of her insomnia, but the doctor had been more than willing to prescribe her sleeping pills. Taking one and washing it down with a mouthful of water she placed the glass back on the sink and retired to her bedroom.

Undressing and slipping into bed she felt the cloudy sensation of the sleeping pill taking effect. Her head rested comfortably on her pillow and she closed her eyes, glad for the dreamless sleep she was able to receive. The last thought as the cloudyness of the sleeping pill took effect was Did I remember to turn the lamp off…

The darkness of aided sleep engulfed her but yet there was something that tried to penetrate her dreamless sleep. A faint smell of burning was interrupting her time of peace. Her consciousness swam to the surface but she could not open her eyes, nor try to wake herself up. A feeling of panic set in as she realised her situation. She had not remembered to put out her lamp, and now her house was on fire. She could feel the warmth of the flames as they entered her bedroom but yet now it didn’t seem to matter so much. The smoke and the sleeping pills had clouded her mind now so much that she wasn’t really sure what was even going on anymore. Soon enough the darkness took over again and she never woke up.

Crumbling

I just wrote this is a rare flash of … I can’t remember to word, opposite of writers’ block.

—

She grabs her laptop in a rush, flying from the room and into the comfort of her sanctuary as tears start to form in the corner of her eyes.

Crumbling she types.

I am crumbling, I am losing control. I can’t stand the pressure, I feel so very overwhelmed.

Her vision blurs as tears continue to form and spill over and slid down her cheeks. And yet she continues to type, quickly and accurately, sight not important in expressing her innermost emotions.

I don’t understand what is happening to me. I have been through this before, so why does it feel so much harder?

As she finishes the final words of her post I just don’t know what to do anymore she hits the publish button and closes the lid to her laptop. Maybe someone will see her thoughts and give her the comfort she is desperately crying out for. Or maybe she will go unheard.

As she places her laptop, her lifeline to the outside world, on her desk she climbs into bed, curling under the covers as if they would protect from far more than just the cool night air. She pulls her teddy close and kisses him on the head. Softly and swiftly she cries herself to sleep to wake up to another day.

Story excerpt

I wrote this during my year 12 Accounting exam…I didn’t do too well, but I thought this turned out quite well.

—

The second hand seemed to be moving unusually slow. Each time I glanced up at the clock it seemed not to have moved. I suppose this was a good thing. As the minute hand moved ever closer to the twelve I was watching my life tick away before my eyes.

No one had come to visit me. Well, a priest had come, but he didn’t have much of a choice. They made him come and try and comfort me in my last hours. My family had disowned me, and I didn’t blame them. If my sister had done what I had, I wouldn’t want to see her against either.

In the time I have spent here, only two others have come to see me: two visitors in three years. The first was my lawyer, but he wasn’t much use. I pleaded guilty, and there was nothing much he could do about it. My other visitor was most unexpected. My father’s brother came to see me, and I think he will be the only one at my execution, apart from the guards, of course. But my uncle sympathised with me about my crime. In fact, he was the reason I didn’t kill myself in my cell.

He came and saw me last week, just after my punishment had been decided. Death, it would be; revenge from the others. Vengeance from the grave.

I didn’t blame them; I knew it was what I deserved. An eye for an eye; a tooth for a tooth; a life for a life. That was the natural order. That was just the way it went.

Not surprisingly, I didn’t feel afraid of my death looming before me. I had faced hopelessness and the deep seemingly infinite darkness of despair so many times before. But there was a light that had shined through it all: he was gone and I was in control.

I can’t remember if I even told my father’s brother why I killed him. I guess he will never know. The minute hand had just reached the eleven; five more minutes to go.

A guard has just entered my cell, cuffing my hands behind my back, telling me it is time to go. Go where? I wonder. Go to the Death Chamber, the room feared by all the inmates … except me. That is where I will make my final escape. That is where I will finally be able to escape my life.

The executioner takes a strange amount of care with his procedure. He is gentle, and even rubs numbing cream into the place the needle will go. He is so kind to me even though I am about to die.

I am lying on my Death bed, perfectly healthy in every way. But that injection will change everything. What is known as a device to save people’s lives will kill me, but not destroy me.

I am dying before they even administer the injection – or did I just not feel it? Everything goes blurry and my eyelids get heavy. I cannot keep my eyes open, so I left in the darkness. I cannot hear anything, and any sense of smell has vanished. I know I am dying, and I notice that as my breathing slows I begin to feel fainter and fainter until …

I can see them, sombre and silent, taking my body from the Death Chamber. Suddenly I see someone I didn’t notice before my death. Crying silently, watching my body, I see my uncle. He whispers something that only my dead ears can hear: “I’m sorry for what he did, but now you’re free.”

Welcome

Welcome to my blog.  This will be a collection of my writings. Please feel free to comment or add tips. If you have any writing instructions please let me know and I’ll see what I can do.

Enjoy!!