Sleep Deprivation

He didn't get to sleep that night. Not that he hadn't had many sleepless nights, but that was one of those I can't stop thinking no matter how hard I try nights. Sleep was impossible with so much on his mind. So many mistakes. So many tears. How could he fix such wrongs? He deserved this sleep deprivation. In any case it gave him more time to think. Sure, most of them were bad thoughts, but there had to be some good in them, yes? He hunted for that spark. That light. Something good must come of this. Some ingenious plan. Some hope.

[103 words]

Too Easy

I held the door knob preciously in its place, listening for anyone that might have heard the click of it opening, the creak as I opened it slowly inwards. I then crept slowly, silently, up the hallway I had walked previously, my heart thumping like crazy. Then I took a different, unknown route at the end of it. It led to a bare kitchen. An empty kitchen. Where was everyone? This was too easy. Much too easy. My brain was telling me to turn back now, but my heart was urging me forwards. As I crept towards the sliding door, I found another obstacle-free zone. It wasn't locked. Freedom was just beyond that fence... I slid the door open and before I could stop myself, ran.

[126 words]

All Love

Some watched over her from birth, each birthday, went on every holiday. Others were simply there. In the background. In the foreground. The majority of them remained, although some were now misplaced in a box or on a shelf, they were still with her. Each bore the friendly, well known smile. Some had been stitched and worn to pieces. Faded. Full of sweat, blood and tears. Some were as good as new. But all were loved.

[76 words]

Worth It?

After a while, I tuned out to their swearing and just sat there, with my arm around her trying to comprehend our situation. I had just put both of our lives in jeopardy and we were no further to freedom then we were before I'd pulled such an act. It was a stupid thing to do. But I had seen them. They were cops, I had known it. But what would've happened if they had caught us? They'd blame me just as they'd blame the others. Wouldn't they? Not that I minded. If it meant getting her out of the danger that she was in, it'd be worth it. Maybe.

[110 words]

Writer's Ramblings

The cursor linked a steady rhythm on the blank page, the quietness of the house penetrating, ideas empty. But people claimed there was no such thing as writer's block. As long as you kept up your writing, as long as you wrote something, anything, it would still count. Writer whatever nuisance is on your mind, write from your stream of consciousness, and something will eventually come up, some usable story idea, some spark. Thing is I could be here for hours if I were to do that, denying each idea as something worthless. I could write a novel on my thoughts alone, except of course no one would read something like that - every single thought on my mind? I guess you wouldn't really get writer's block then surely, because then you'd just ramble on and on, without much care because, again, no one as going to read it. But where was the joy in that? The accomplishment? Aside from being a completely boring novel, you'd just have wasted precious years when you could have been working on your other manuscripts. And you might have one, three good ideas in that to come out of a story? Or would there be more? Of course you'd never be able to truly tell unless you did it... which I had no incentive to. Or did I?

[224 words]

Caught Up

25 September 2010

I wanted to retort, to retreat further into my cage, but before I could stop myself I was clambering out, desperate to stretch my legs. I wanted to make my run escape, but again there were more of them then there was of me, and so I settled with just crawling out. Cameron wasn’t with them. I didn’t know if that was good or bad, but I kept my mouth shut. Someone had the lead to the collar in their hands and that scared me. They reached down to attach it. I scrambled away, crawling unconsciously towards the door, though at a much slower pace then them and they caught up with me much too easily. I heard the click of the two chains meeting, the instant pull of it and I stopped struggling, eyes for the ground. I would not look at them. I couldn’t look at them.

[149 words]

Back Stories

She walked past the commotion, trying not to stare. Not that there was anything to stare at, it just wasn't something you saw every day. Something different to your every day schedule. The woman had finally sat up, the smell reached her nostrils as she passed, and four police officers now joined the previous two security guards, with gloves. Drugs? Possibly. She wasn't really one to judge or make up the back stories of strangers. As writers they were encouraged to do such things, but sometimes... you just couldn't. No matter how interesting or unusual a story they would make.

[100 words]

Schedules

So a schedule is something that plans out what you will do for the hour, the day, the week - or month or year - whatever you like, really. For some people, they were incredibly hard to stick to, for others, incredibly easy. And for some, it depends on how they are feeling at a certain time. Your aim is to somehow, with any luck, get all of your work done. This is spread over the course of a week, so as not to cram it all into the last minute. This also gives you free time, and relaxation, away from your work as required. The outcome is not always reflective of this aim. But perhaps, just this once, it would work.

[122 words]

Distracted Dreams

Relief is a great feeling. It's amazing. You can be so stressed, so worn out, so unhappy, until the relief comes and it changes everything. It makes you feel good. Like this huge weight has been lifted off of your shoulders and it feels as though you can do anything. You can win. You can sleep. Sleep is fantastic. Amazing. Beautiful. The world of darkness that sweeps over you isn't dark at all. Your dreams may be filled with colour and inspiration, despite what you may or may not remember of them when you wake up. Dreams and sleep are perfect.

[101 words]

Idiocy

The idiocy of some people stuns even me. Do they not realise the fool they are making of themselves? I do not care about you, so I am going to ignore you and hope you get the picture. I truly hope you weren't really stealing, and in any case I think I recognise the car. A shame the cops around the corner didn't see you. Although I'm sure you weren't really doing anything wrong, and I'm just imagining things, right? You're just there to make me mad at you. You happy? You succeeded for a whole five minutes. You remind me of the youth I want nothing to do with. Thanks.

[111 words]

Assignments Never Go Away

She wanted to return to the music, the singing, the crazy, be-it-herself relaxer, tension-reliever, whatever. Writing orals were not her thing and certainly not saying them aloud. But that was life and you had to do things that you didn't always want to do, like writing an assignment, like speaking in front of a class. She had no doubt it would all go just fine, it was just the lead up to it that was the worse. Finishing things up and polishing it off. But when it was over, it would be god. When it was over, it'd be great. When it was over, she had her mini-holiday. A week to wind down and catch u, ready to prepare herself for the final three weeks. Then maybe, she could think of something else.

[133 words]

Rain and Applause

Saw the last show of the Mamma Mia Musical today :)

One person stood up. Then two, then three, then I was standing up with them and the crowd was going wild. The clapping was almost louder than the music, and the cheers were drowned out by everything else. The magic and intensity of it was brilliant, and everyone was singing whether they could sing it well or not. Then came the confetti and and it was like colourful rain on what was such a miserable-cloudy-rain-put-off day, and to be up on that stage would be a blessing, and it didn't quite feel real but it was and it was lovely but it was also coming to an end as all the good things do, and then the curtain was drawn and the applause struck it's climax, as people made their way for the doors.

[134 words]

Make The Choice

He was kicking himself on the inside. He'd known it had been a bad idea all along. Now there were two separate groups after him and he didn't know which to run to first. Heck, he had the girl, wasn't that the only thing that had been pulling him back? Couldn't he run to the cops, right now, end this all? But his mind was arguing with his desire. His mind wanted him to return, for some pathetic reason, perhaps because he knew what they were capable of and he knew they'd sought him out again, or his family or other people he cared about. But if he could just get away... this was his chance. He could get away. Why, why was he running the wrong way? He contemplated crashing to the ground, just so he wouldn't have to make the decision, but he could feel them behind him, in front of him, on every angle, closing in and he had to make the choice now.

[167 words]

Oscar

I snuggled deeper into the depths of the blankets, eyes focused on the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, a finger massaging over the body of Oscar and entwining in his hair. She loved him. In fact, she loved all of them. Just because he was a horse didn't make him any different to all the other stuffed animals. No one was favoured over the other, because that wouldn't be fair and so she tried to alternate who she slept with. The duck, the polar bear. They were all just as loved, just as special. All with names. And they came alive.

[101 words]

Change Beginning

It was weird, strange. A different feeling all together, yet still the same. Kind of odd, really. She didn't know what to think. It was just a bit of a change to get used to, that was all. And she would get used to it and she didn't mind. It was good, better, in a way. There were still no regrets. No grudges, and that was good to know. A good feeling. In another way it felt like she was back to the beginning, but she knew she wasn't. So much had happened, had progressed. And things hadn't really changed in general. Changes were to be expected, she just had to get used to them, even if at times she hated change.

[122 words]

Lol

Sometimes something is funny and when something is funny you laugh and everybody loves a good laugh because laughter is the best medicine and it makes you feel better even if it's just for a short time but sometimes it's for a really good time and you can be laughing for hours and you can get really sore and you can be crying even though you're happy because you're laughing but it's just that you laugh so much that you can't handle it anymore and you really want to stop but you just can't and then sometimes you only laugh on the inside like when people say lol and it means laugh out loud but most of the time they aren't actually laughing out loud unless they put it in capitals like LOL and then you know they really mean it because it has twice the impact and that means you've made them smile and this is a good thing and everyone should smile more often because the little things make life great and people find different things funny like videos filmed on Youtube or people falling over but sometimes things just aren't funny and people don't get it and that's okay too but it's best when everyone gets it and then they're all laughing at other peoples stupidity for doing something unintentionally funny or they do something intentionally funny and then people laugh and that feels good and makes life good and funny.

[244 words]

Love is Life

Love is one of those words that is tossed around a lot. A love for mother and daughter, brother and sisterly love. A love of an object, a toy, a television show or yes, a person. A love for a friend, a famous person, a crush, a boyfriend or girlfriend. And love isn't always kind. It is cruel and harsh and withstanding and has to deal with a lot. It can go without problems forever, or problems can occur all the time - a heartbreak, a mended heart. It can be the cause of the worst feelings in the world. It can also be the best, which is why it is so often sought after. Love is life.

[118 words]

Try and Hide

He lay crumpled on the floor, arms folded tight against his chest and his eyes squeezed tight shut. He held in his cries of pain and bit down hard on his tongue, trying not to think of the blood that was weeping from his arm. He had never been really good with blood, becoming light and faint headed, but it was a relief from what he was used to here. In any case, it was from him, not them, and that was of some consultation. Now he just had to hide it from them and maybe he would be right. Of course, he could never hide, but he could try.

[110 words]

Daily Do's

I didn't really know what to write, I just knew I had to write something, and I didn't much feel like writing. Sometimes it seemed like more effort than it was worth and sometimes it felt it was well worth the wait. But she couldn't quit, she'd continued this too long, it was an obligation she had to fulfill every day before the day was out. The writing, no matter how horrible, how pointless, counted towards that goal, a goal she would reach. She had to just focus her efforts on other things in the mean time as well, and not leave her assessment as last minute as she left her dailies - stressful and hurried and almost meaningless, but never quite. Right?

[123 words]

Doing the Work

She'd finally made a start, but would it last? Probably not. Could she write it out to the correct word length? With difficulty. Would she succeed? Maybe, maybe not. Hopefully. But what about the other subjects? She had to do work on all of them, with or without those distractions. She could do it if she put her mind to it, so would she? Sometimes it seemed like such an effort, but usually, not always, but usually, the result was worth it. Now why couldn't she find an equal balance between everything in her life right now? EQUAL. Not jumped all over the place in huge and minor chunks. She had to get the work done. Soon.

[117 words]

Empty Page

The page was blank, the ideas a swamp of nothingness. The lines remained neat and unfulfilled, and the pen almost untouched. The scribble that could be seen on pages were on pages before, already there, old. The page she wanted to write on was blank. Empty. The words that usually cluttered her mind weren't there and if she tried to look harder she doubt she'd find much more. It was one of those times that the stories just didn't exist in her world, which of course was a lie, because they always existed, well hidden beneath the surface. So why couldn't she pull just one forward? Wretch it from it's grave? There had to be something worth writing about. There always was. She just had to find it, and that's what took time, and the dreaded patience.

[137 words]

Forgotten Change

His lank frame cringed, scrawny, into the wall. The wall that stood bearing the groaning graffiti of previous victims. He, a victim also, hid beneath a mop of brown hair that shielded his eyes from the sunlight and retained the darkness. His hair was dark, his eyes darker, and his thoughts the darkest. He wasn't always like that, but they had made it so. They had changed his way of thinking. They had changed his name. They had changed him. This body wasn't his. This voice wasn't his. This life wasn't his. It was theirs. And he had forgotten how to change it back.

[104 words]

Fairy Tale Part 2

"Actually, you know, now's not really a good time," I commented, slipping sideways for my door. I grabbed the handle and wrenched it shut.

"Oh don't be silly Emma," my mother practically laughed at me, "you're only writing another one of your stories."

It was all good for her. Her room didn't look like it belonged to an eight year old.

"Can I hear it?" he asked, his tone interested as he looked up at me. I looked at my feet.

"I'll leave you two alone," my mothered smiled, then added as she walked away, "don't be rude, offer him a drink."

I looked questioningly at him and his smile broadened as he shook his head. When I was sure Mum was out of hearing, i said again, "Now's not really a good time."

"Well when will it be a good time, Emma? I can come back if you want me to but you can't avoid me forever. What's so bad about your house? I don't see cobwebs and I can't smell socks."

I cracked a forced smile at him. He was right, of course. For the past two months I'd been rearranging plans, coming up with excuses... it wasn't that I didn't trust him, but... okay, maybe it was. I pried Jesse out of his hands. Then he turned his back on me and made for the sliding door.

"Wait," I pleaded, but he'd already called out loudly, his voice carrying through the house.

"This is some garden you have, Mrs Phillips." I looked incredulously at him with my arms folded as Mum came into the room again, "It's really something magic. Have you done it all yourself?"

Damn him and his charming abilities! He was being written into her good books at this very moment. She cast a hand upon his shoulder and began conversation with him about the weather and the plants to which I didn't even know the names of. Then they were outside, strolling around the garden, picking leaves and laughing. I pouted, leaning back against the door of my room, determined not to let him in. Oh how he would laugh then - at me. Boys.

I let my thoughts rage by themselves, waiting for the pair to come back in. I would have to dump him. He wouldn't want me after today. Oh how rude I was being, but I didn't want him in my room. He would judge. Everyone always did. The rumors that would spread through the school. Why? Why was he here in my home, in my garden? Sure he was my boyfriend, but did that give him permission -

I yelped as the door I was leaning on gave way and I was crashing to the ground before he caught me under the arms and pulled me to my feet. I spun around, my all too memorized room coming to view, and him misplaced inside it.

"You left the window open," he smiled, taking his arm around me and leading me in. Him, leading me, into my room. There were tears of humiliation in my eyes as they flashed over the familiar premises.

It was liking walking into an enchanted forest. A model tree stood in the center of the room, its leaves making a canopy over the roof. The walls were painted dark, but everything was lit with fairy lanterns and scented candles. There was a built in wardrobe that hid beneath the painted walls, almost invisible, and the bed was in the corner. The bed was littered in toys and the desk was at the end of it, so whenever she wrote she could look up at her characters and take them from sitting on the bed and prop them into a story from another world. I tossed Jesse amongst the others and turned to face my fear, tear sliding down my cheek. As much as I tried, no words came out. This was my sanctuary, and no man had ever set food inside - well, except my younger brother, and he didn't count.

I looked away from the love of my life only to feel his finger upon my cheek, wiping that tear away. Then he strode over to the bed and plopped himself on it.

"Please, don't." I whispered. I couldn't take the tease. He was going to make fun of me.

"There's no shame in having toys at your age," his voice sounded ... like he didn't believe me. Like he didn't believe that I could feel such a thing. Just like I couldn't believe what he was trying to tell me. "I mean, look at this room. Open your eyes, it is awesome! How many people have a willow tree in their bedroom? Does it attract the fairies?"

"No," I admitted, taking a few steps forward to stroke the texture of the trunk, "I'm kind of starting to drop that belief."

"Don't you ever stop believing," he warned me, then shifted some toys over on the bed and made room for me. I smiled, but didn't move. I still didn't trust him. But he didn't need my permission. He grabbed one of my big teddies, and Jesse, and began his improv. I sat on the floor, and listened.

[875 words]

Fairy Tale

"The fairies were dancing in the skies, their glittery dresses swaying with them, their eyes alight with happiness, when suddenly through the clouds came a DRAGON! And he swooped towards the nearest, a youngin' by the name of Annie, and he was spitting flames and thrashing his tail when the fairy queen cast a spell that stunned him, and the fairies scattered away as he hovered there motionless, then they weren't quite sure what to do, when-"

"Emma!"

I looked up from the story I was reading out, and over my shoulder. Mum was calling from the kitchen.

"You didn't wash up the glasses properly."

I rolled my eyes and called back, "Do you want me to do them again?"

"No, it's too late now, I'm doing them."

That was the thing about Mum. She told you to do something, but you were never quick enough for her wishes. "Whatever," I called back, returning to my audience, "Where was I?"

The stuffed animals and dolls looked unmoving back at me. They lined my bed from top to bottom, giving character to the room. They were the best. I sighed. "You know I've been waiting sixteen years. Can't one of you just move? You know I'll keep your secret, I will!" I covered my eyes with my hands, "I'll count to three, and when I open my eyes, Jesse will be on the other side of Woody. One... two... three!"

I moved my hands. Jesse remained where she was. I wasn't really disappointed. I knew they were shy after all, and perhaps sixteen years wasn't enough to gain their trust. I couldn't blame them, really. The abandon toys that littered the opp shops...

I heard a series of thumps, and my eyes lit up, remembering where I was in the story and I grabbed the pink unicorn, "But the spell was wearing off and the dragon woke up and he was so angry with the fairies! And the unicorns were trying to figure out a way to overcome him-"

I could hear Mum opening up the front door and I sighed, disrupted again. "This will have to wait for another time." I instructed them, then as an afterthought, I grabbed my best cowgirl on my way out of the room, whispering to her, "You know, I might need your help for my next story."

"Ah Emma, look who I found at the door."

Startled, I looked up and came face to face with the most beautiful eyes I knew. Fairy dust blue that sparkled. They mapped out a perfectly animated face that wore a permanent smile all day long that I loved. My boyfriend had never stepped foot in my house before. I quickly hid Jesse behind my back but I was a second too late, and he stopped me.

"Jesse's pretty cool," he smiled, gently lifting her out of my hands and caressing her woolen braids, "but Woody's better."

"What are you doing here?" I whispered, pleasantly surprised by his compliment, but still not impressed that he was here. I wasn't ready for him to judge me.

"I was in the neighbourhood. Thought I'd drop by. I hope you don't mind."

[531 words]

Distraction = On Hold

Distractions are sometimes too distracting. They jump from one to the other like lice. It's insane. First one thing, then a song, an idea, then it comes in a circle back to the first again. It's hopeless. Or at the very least, seems that way. And you feel like you've wasted your time for another hour that you'll never get back. And yet, we love a good distraction simply for the fact they distract - they take us away from the things we are supposed to be doing. They relieve us of the pressure, at least for a little while. They put everything on hold 'til you're ready. Another day won't hurt.

[112 words]

Imagination Driven

The rain drizzled unwelcoming down the window, as she snuggled closer into the blanket and rested her head upon Isha's shoulder. It was wrong to fall in love with him - she'd created him for pete's sake - but she'd never dreamed that he would become this real, this solid. And it wasn't just him. It was his brothers, his parents. It was a little overwhelming, but even before she'd begun writing this story her mum had said she'd been living more inside her head. Maybe she was supposed to live inside her head. Maybe she was unconscious in a hospital somewhere and this was all just some bizarre coma she was in that kept her entertained. She knew it wasn't though. Everything was so real, had lasted so long... the question was how much longer it would last. How long until she could finish the story, and what would happen when she did? Would they all just disappear? Because if that was the case, she wasn't sure she wanted to finish it. How could she drive away the figments of her imagination that did nothing to harm her? She couldn't. She wouldn't. Or would she?

[196 words]

Write from the Heart

People are always talking about heartbreak like its a disease. Of course, it's not fatal like heart attacks are, but with the amount of pain endured and described by the people that have suffered from heartbreak, you'd think it was. It was like a knife to the heart. I could feel it splitting in two. I mean, if it was, you'd be dead. No, my heart hasn't been broken. It's just had a few pin pricks, which I suppose is lucky and good in comparison to one that's been bleeding all out. A few band aids and they'll heal over with time unlike those that are scarred for life. It's a good thing writing is love, when it's from the heart (or aortic pump) at least, because it's something that will never hurt you like a person can. Which is why everyone should write. :)

[145 words]

Trust In Him

She sat beside him, unsure whether to truly trust him or not. Of course, she wanted to trust him, she did, but she wasn't sure if that was right or not. A few months ago, she hasn't even konwn him, but now he was everywhere, and he really cared about her. She could see it in his eyes. And besides, he needed her. She'd seen some of the things he'd done. Which was partly why she accompanied him, and slipped away from her mother to be with him. For some reason, his presence as an old brother figure was more comforting than her own mother's had been as of late. It was weird, but she tried not to question it and before long felt her throwing her full trust out to him. He'd protect her like a father, like a brother. She knew he would. And she would do what she could for him. Make him smile when he cried. Then he was whispering at her, telling her to get up, and they were heading towards the doors and he knelt to her and whispered a message which scared her, as she clung tight to his body as he picked her up in his arms and the doors opened. They ran.

[211 words]

Important Date

He traced a finger over his hideously scarred-for-life body, over the unprofessional tattoo on his ribs. One three zero six one two. He'd had it for years now, and still didn't know where it meant, except for the obviousness that it stood for a date, still years away. What would happen on that day he had no idea. It was obviously important, otherwise it would've have been permanently attached to his skin has a reminder, just like the rest of the unhealed scars. Why he couldn't be told of the importance of something on his own body was something you'd have to ask the person who did it. The person who was the reason he was locked away now. The person who destroyed his life.

[125 words]

Speeding Horror

People had been complaining about the late running of the service, even though they were still making good time. That was until they were jerked forwards at the sound of a loud crash. The train came to a painfully slow stop as people that had been sitting in the same direction of travel began standing, trying to see where the noise had come from.

"A car's been hit!" someone yelled, pointing to what was left of a crumpled, smoking car. Some people were gasping, others screaming or crying. She just stared, shocked, out the window as the sound of sirens filled their ears and they remained stationery, wondering why anyone would try and race a train a million times their size. They wouldn't have survived. No way. But you couldn't stop yourself from hoping.

[134 words]