It's That Wonderful Time of the Month Again....

Challenge time--and it's my turn.

:D

This isn't my most inventive challenge but it is one and it's a somewhat easy one seeing as I'm being attacked by the storm I like to call homework. Anyway, onto the challenge. This months challenge is inspired by fan fiction--don't die just yet.

There's this thing in fan fiction where you write a 'story' OR a 'trailer' to a song. Let me give mine as an examples it's for my seventh Harry Potter fan Fiction (both):

Haunted By Evanescence:

*opening music/instrumental*

*black and white*

Carmen leans forward to look at the table "Voldemort's building up an army-greater than he ever has before."

Scene changes to Remus at Grimmuald place looking at Harry, Ron, Hermione and Dragon, "They're accusing muggleborns of killing wizards and stealing their magic.....Carmen's had to run."


"It's this or Azkaban....personally with whose running the ministry....I'd rather risk my life running."

*Color*

Long lost words whisper slowly to me

"Things are getting worse, Harry," Dragon whispers looking at him, "I fear there's no stopping what's to come."

Still can't find what keeps me here

"If you go after Voldemort, so do I, he's not just your problem Harry."

(Oohh, ohh oh ohh oh)

Caroline crosses infront of McGonagal,"They can't do this can they? Take everything over the way they have?"

"I'm afraid rules no longer apply."

When all this time I've been so hollow.. inside

"It's like the minute you find something everything is destined to fall apart, I don't know about you, Dygon--but I'm not letting your father and his friends destroy anymore of my family. There's a war going on and whether or not Remus approves I'm fighting in it."

(Beep beep beep)

"Riley!"

I know your still there,

"My dear old friend find traitors and mudbloods that had opposed us for so long," Voldemort hissed leaning towards the man before him, "Bring me back my blood and potter--do as you with their families the mudblood and Dumbledore."

Watching me, wanting me,

"Ever since I was born my grandfather had a price on head. I'm not spending the rest of my life living in fear of the man who murdered so many, it's not worth it--if he wants me let him come. I dare him."

I can feel you pull me down

"There are things in this world, Riley, you can not change. He's dangerous for you to be around," Tonks whispered, eye level with her, "if his father finds you, Remus' world will fall apart."

Fearing you,

"I'm leaving, Ron, there's nothing you can do to stop me--if I stay he'll just destroy you all. It's Harry and I he wants."

"But your my sister, where you go. I go. It's fact."

loving you

"She loves you, Ron, if you can't see it no one can."

"I'm not the only one who can't see who loves us, Harry."

I won't let you pull me down

"Carmen," Caroline breath and Carmen barely smirked, "You didn't think those death eaters could run me off the face of the earth did you?"

"Come out, mudblood, you cannot hide." Lucious taunted but she didn't move. Only death awaited from outside that pillar. A fate she wasn't sure she was prepared for.

Haunting you, I can smell you

"You were supposed to destroy her when you destroy her parents!" Voldemort boomed. "Well my lord, it was about as difficult as it was for you to destroy the boy--"

"ENOUGH! I'll find them myself, it seems to be the only way anything is done right."

Alive

"Mrs. Weasley did you ever think that possibly you're children are more capable of handling themselves than you thought?" Curtis questioned sipping his coffee nearly immediately as a glare was his response.

Your heart pounding in my head

"Harry," (beep beep) "I don't think we should follow her...I have a bad feeling about this, Harry. I don't trust her."

"Trust me, Dragon, everything's alright."

Watching me, wanting me

I can feel you pull me down

"You know what I have to."

"I know I do...but I don't want you to."

"I have to."

"Then I'm coming with you--this isn't just your war Harry, you aren't the only one that has things to avenge for or heal. Whether you like it or not but the minute you sealed my lips you sealed a contract. Where you go I go. It's simple."


Saving me, rapppping me, watching me *cough* (It's the lyric's people........and yeah I added extra P's looks a bit more like rapping now :P *is more comfortable and will probably change the word later*)

"So...what'd you think?"

"I think you were a very fitting, Aunt Bell, Hermione. You know...except for the fact that your politeness made me ponder if Aunt Bell had I dunno.....gotten amnesia and turned into my Aunt Andromeda but really, besides that...you are awesome."

(Watching me)

Greyback stepped on her arm, pressing down with all his weight before shoving her wand in the other direction.

I (wanting me)

Weak and disoriented she lifted herself

I (I can) feel you pull me down

looking at her wand as she did so calling it to her silently as a figure ran up. (Fearing you)

"Dragon-" I (Loving you)

And just like that Voldemort turned lifting his wand. "Avada Kedavra!"

I,

"No!"

I won't let you pull me down Her wand fell absently to the darkend wood's ground.

(beep)


My second one (these are kind of ideas I've had for awhile and more story-ish then the one above. The one above is kind of....trailer-ish)

These are also kind of heavily Carmen/Charlie

My Last Breath By Evanescence:

"Charlie" Carmen whispered walking into the room, he looked over at her, "You're light was on...I saw it from the livingroom." She walked over and sat next to him, "What's wrong?"

"I can't sleep."

"You have to."

"I know I do, it's good health." His tone was oddly sarcastic but Carmen frowned before putting her head on him, "I don't want to go either...but there's nothing I can do." She glanced up at him he was just staring at the wall, "At least this way if you need me...or the order does....I can help." He finally looked at her and kisses her forehead. "I love you."

Lightly she pulled back and smiled at him, unsure why tears weren't yet rolling don her cheeks, "I love you too." He put his forehead on hers, "What if they find out and come after you? You'll be all alone." She rolled her eyes, "I don't fear them, the only way they can make me fear them is if they take away any more of what I love--and I won't let them do that. I'm not afraid, Charlie, at least not for me."

hold on to me love
you know i can't stay long
all i wanted to say was
i love you and
i'm not afraid

Moments seemed to pass like hours, "I have to go, Charlie. The Order believed this would be the best time to do so."
"I know," He whispered fingering her broom before handing it to her. She glanced up at the sky and back, "I'll be fine, relax."

"Carmen," He put his arms around her waist, "I may never see you again...how can I relax? I want nothing more to say that I can't let you do this... they could hunt you down and kill you and I'd never even know."

"Voldemort will not tear us apart, Charlie. Never. I love you and you love me-nothing can keep love appart. He may try but I can tell you I will not be killed and if anything happens to the ones I love or the ones they love I can assure you I will be back in a heart beat. I'm not afraid. I can't afford to be, and niether can you." She put her lips on his, "You have to promise me you'll be careful though."

"I promise."

Can you hear me?
Can you feel me in your arms?
holding my last breath
safe inside myself
are all my thoughts of you
sweet raptured light it ends here tonight

"Charlie!" Carmen screamed as snowballs pumbled her to the snow filled ground. "Oh! YOU!" She turned back and shoved a good ten right back at them. "Well, what else am I supposed to do?! Throw marshmellows?" He shouted, "It's a snow ball fight!"

"The least you could do is throw one at a time!"

I'll miss the winter
a world of fragile things

"Carmen, we're not supposed to-"
"We're not supposed to go into the restricted section of the library but we do, I'm not allowed after elven and niether are you but at 12:01 you seek to my room." Carmen looked at him. "Face it Charlie. We weren't born to follow the rules. Now," She back into the forest. "You can wait here while I find the book myself and have a little adventure or come with me. It's your choice." She smirked and ran into the woods.

look for me in the white forest
hiding in a hollow tree

Carmen stared at the picture in her hands....how long would it take for the war to end? How long would she be seperated from those she loved? "Merlin I don't want to be here..." She murmured with tears rolling down her cheeks.

(come find me)

"Where's Carmen?" Mrs. Weasley asked and Charlie dropped his bag onto his parents kitchen floor. Heaving a heavy breath Charlie looked at them, "She's taking a vacation."

"Oh...everything alright between you--I would have thought you'd have gone together."

"Yeah, well," He paused, "she needed to be alone."

i know you hear me
i can taste it in your tears

Carmen held in a breath and rested her head on the tree behind her. It was nearly like she had infact been cut off from society all together. Which, mainly, she had. Closing her eyes she put the picture away. There was no reason in fixating in the past from a picture--she had more memories in her mind than any object could return. And that just frightened her more.

holding my last breath
safe inside myself
are all my thoughts of you
sweet raptured light it ends here tonight

Charlie laid down and stared at the cieling before temporarily closing his eyes he'd gotten through the first month okay and then the others. It was more like a dream now....everyday he felt like he should wake up and actually see her there. But yet, it made it easier--better to be in a pleasant dream sometimes than a reality filled with darkness.

closing your eyes to disappear
you pray your dreams will leave you here
but still you wake and know the truth
no one's there

Carmen stared at the stars thoughtfully. Things were so quiet. She had expected to hear from Kingsley now about some sort of attack and as much as she was saddened by the lack of family and friend contact she was pleased that apparently, nothing too horrible could have struck.

Or so, she hoped everyone she loved hadn't been destroyed in an atomic bomb like spell.

say goodnight
don't be afraid

"Carmen." Kingsley's patronus was easy to spot, "get to Charlie's parents--explain if there is time but don't waist time. The school's being attacked Tonks and several others are already on their way."

calling me calling me
as you fade to black

"Charlie." Carmen said coming into his house. "Carmen what are you--"

"Kingsley told me about the attack," She eyed him, noting he was about ready to leave, "I'm coming."

"But-"

"There's no time for buts," Carmen rushed quickly kissing him, "We've got to get there before it's too late." But, in many ways, it already was.

holding my last breath
safe inside myself
are all my thoughts of you
sweet raptured light it ends here tonight

Now for number three, this could in many ways be a continuation:

Breaking the Habbit By Linkin Park:

It was so odd to Carmen, everything just seemed so much simpler when she first became and aurror instead of now. It was watch your back, watch your parents back, no wands in pockets, wand at the ready, point, aim, fire. But now, simple things seemed so much more complicated.
But then, everything seems so when you're staring into the past as your preparing to be thrown into the middle of a battle where there was everything to win or everything to loose just the same.

Memories consume
Like opening the wound
I'm picking me apart again

"Carmen!" Caroline exclaimed wrapping her arms around her friend nearly immediately and leaving Percy's side. "What are you doing here?! The ministry-the death eaters-Voldemort---"

"They're the reason I'm here, besides, you didn't think those death eaters could run me off the face of the earth did you?" She smirked lightly, "Not a chance."

You all assume
I'm safe here in my room
Unless I try to start again

"Oh Carmen dear," Molly said hugging her nearly ending all air from entering her body for a good 10 or so seconds. "It's so wonderful to see you and Charlie talking again." Carmen blinked and looked at Charlie who mouthed 'I'll explain later' to her while his mother's back was turned.

Carmen looked around the room and become suddenly worried. I don't want to be the one the battles always choose. "Where is everyone?" She asked "Harry, Dragon, Fred, George and Percy went that way, Hermione and Ron that way and Remus what that way and Tonks soon followed." Caroline and Percy explained and Carmen, whom had still been being hugged by Molly as if she was Harry looked at them. 'Cause inside I realize that I'm the one confused.

"Tonks?" She looked at Charlie they had spoke to Tonks before they left, "I told her not to, doesn't she understand?" She didn't wait for a response before quickly releasing Charlie's hand which she had taken after beind released by Molly and exiting the room.

I don't know what's worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
I don't know why I instigate
And say what I don't mean


"Carmen!" Charlie called but it was too late she was already bounding up the staircase with her wand in hand. "Relax, Charlie, Carmen's a great wizard she can handle herself." Molly said. "That's what I'm worried about," Charlie said, "Her having to handle herself."

I don't know how I got this way
I know it's not alright
So I'm breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit
Tonight

"I told her not to," Carmen thought, she would have loved nothing more than to bop her dearest friend upside the head--both of them. She'd run up what seemed to be many staircases and still not seen any sight of them "Merlin let nothing have happend.." She breathed, but that one time, she seemed to be led into the wrong by her hopes.

She heard a cackle, a familiar cackle in the distance before it disapeared altogether. Bellatrix. "Tonks, Remus!" She called, swearing beneath her breath before running into the room the cackle had come from. Nearly immediately she stopped in the doorway and put a hand over her mouth. "Merlin no....no...please...no." She clamped her eyes shut. It couldn't be real, but yet when she opened her eyes, there they were lying there. Lifeless.

Clutching my cure
I tightly lock the door
I try to catch my breath again
I hurt much more
Than anytime before
I had no options left again

"Merlin, Tonks," She whispered wiping tears from her eyes as she knelt down, "I begged you not to. Why couldn't you just listen? Why couldn't the both of you?"

I dont want to be the one
The battles always choose
'Cause inside I realize
That I'm the one confused

"Morran." She turned her head hearing someone come towards the entrance of the room. Quickly she stood, wondering if they'd pass the room but they didn't. A shadowy figure entered. "Expelliarmus!" Carmen dodged it and sent it the disarming spell back at it's 'owner', "Protego!"

I don't know what's worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
I don't know why I instigate
And say what I don't mean
I don't know how I got this way
I'll never be alright
So, I'm breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit
Tonight

The battle had been only going on for seconds before another figure, much more menicing entered and that battle lasted much longer. But they were determind and in a pair--she was on her own and dead set against using an unforgivable curse, probably the only easy way out.

Finally, somewhat tired and weary she made a commotion and disapeared, hiding behind a pillar to catch her breath. She kept quiet and closed her eyes for a few moments before opening them and keeping her hearing keene....they were quiet. Perhaps they thought she left...

"Why taking to hiding so suddenly?" Now the voices sounded familiar, "Come out, mudblood, you cannot hide." Lucious taunted but she didn't move. Only death awaited from outside that pillar. A fate she wasn't sure she was prepared for.

"Are you afraid of taking me up on that duel? Or do you suddenly believe us pureblood's could infact--wipe the floor with you?" Snare's voice slithered.

Carmen put her elbows on her knees and put the back of her hands on her forehead moving them around as she thought with closed eyes. Taking a deep shaky breath, glancing at Remus and Tonks before looking up and leveling herself she stood, walking out from behind the pillar. "Lucious Malfoy and Kuldrun, somehow, it doesn't surprise me." her eyes were locked on them, she'd made her decision. Never looking away from them she grasped her wand in her hand until her knuckles turned white. Too many people had suffered heartache, too many had been lost to the war...what would be one more. "This is where is where it ends." There was no point in hiding, hiding was childish--if this war was going to take those who she and others loved, she might as well give the others the better chance. Harry and the other's would find a way. She'd just stall these two as long as she could it had to be of some help.

"It's your funeral, Morran." Snare said before the duel continued.

I'll paint it on the walls
'Cause I'm the one at fault
I'll never fight again
And this is how it ends

"Avada Kedavra!"

I don't know what's worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream

Following his enterance with Collin Creevy Filch entered, visible before his entrence was a lock of brown hair. He placed her by Tonks and Remus, wand still clutched in her right hand and turned to Caroline and Charlie, "Found her upstairs not far from them."

But now I have some clarity
to show you what I mean

Charlie leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees, "Merlin." He breathed placing his hands on his forehead.

I don't know how I got this way
I'll never be alright

"Charlie," Caroline said got up from Percy's side and went over to him, wrapping her arms around him, "I'm so sorry."

So, I'm breaking the habit

"Dragon, if you're coming with me we have to go now." Harry said and looked at her. She was staring over at her brother and family swallowing back every tear that was threatening to exit.

I'm breaking the habit

"Dragon?" He whispered coming up behind her, his breath seeming so hott against her suddenly cold skin. Piercing her lips and closing her eyes she slowly turned.

I’m breaking the habit

"I'm ready," She said and looked at him, locking eyes with him, "let's go, let's just end this thing before anyone else gets hurt."

Tonight

Your assignment (should you choose to except it :P) is to write a 'songfic' either a trailer (like the first) for a fanfiction (if you have one) or for a physical book you're writing OR a story section between charactors set to a song. (like the last two)

Some sites with more examples (easiest to find LOTR or HP examples):
http://mmadandrlntless.proboards78.com/index.cgi?board=songfics
http://admmfics.proboards22.com/index.cgi?board=snogfic
http://www.council-of-elrond.com/forums/archive/index.php/t-6528.html
http://www.council-of-elrond.com/forums/archive/index.php/t-6641.html
http://www.openscrolls.net/fanfic/story.php?no=326&sid=75a7877b1f545e1eba5591611c3b6084

Just had to point out "Oh, Estel, I was positively smitten," *snort*

Just. Picture. It.

Ah. Yes. Lenia's heaven----her uncle saying "smitten". long with a bunch of other things.

http://www.openscrolls.net/fanfic/story.php?no=188

Lenia*slaps Legolas* Legolas*blinks* WHAT?! Lenia: I'm never gonna have a sad story like that! Legolas*blinks* ...............I'm sorry? Lenia: Better.

It has been proven via this and many other 'fan fictions' that I, have apparently, become too attached to my charactors and their attachment to others because I BAWLED my eyes out reading through that example.

Curse you alter-ego Lenia.

So. Yeah. Welcome to your challenge. Have fun....if you have questions ASK please :) I'll try to help :D

LoveyoumygorgeousfellowWritingRantian's♥

P.S. Sorry about post this right after your post Kelia!!! I didn't know you had posted until I posted this!!! :-/ So yeah, ya'll who haven't read Kelia's awesome FAN FIC post go. No. SHOO! I'm going to read and comment right now as I speak so. Loveya♥

Challenge Time!

That's right --- AGAIN.

Except this time, it's my turn to pick what we're going to do.

And you know, knowing me, that it's not going to be [too] hard, but it's different, and different is good... most of the time.

Bwaha.

This whole idea came from Katie, who was discussing how hard it is to write from a male POV, or with a male MC overall, by the way, so if you need to blame anyone, it would be her. (Love you, Katiebobaity... Heheh.)

Kay. So.

MY CHALLENGE TO YOU:

Since we're all of the amazingly talented female gender, I propose that we make up a guy character - He can't be based off of anyone you know (Jessie...), and can look/be/have the attitude that you choose.
But that's not really the challenge. The challenge is making him a main character in a short story. Simple.

One catch - it has to be first person, from his POV.

You can make him TELL a story about himself, or just write a scene that comes to mind with him as the MC/POV.

:)

OyVey.

GET TO WORK!

Love,
L!

DEPRESSING?!

Okay.

So I finally DID THE CHALLENGE.

It's a little over 2,000 words - 2,150 to be exact.

And another thing: It's (very) DEPRESSING. AND (very, VERY) CONFUSING.

But if you get it, you'll understand.

If you don't, this will just sound like a jumble-ish mess to you.

------

The funeral was a curious one; since he’d been so young, so charming, and so popular, hundreds upon hundreds of people came, parading around the place in their best black suits and dresses, some even recycling their recently-used prom dresses, crying their eyes out before the service. Most of the guests were around my age, mid-high school level, and it could almost guarantee that half of them didn’t have a clue what had even happened to him; they’d come just to get out of school; to get the attention of supposedly knowing him. The older ones looked tired and worn; as if the death had suddenly affected them, as well.

The service was painful and numbing, the decrepit preacher’s words being drowned out by loud, sudden sobs, randomly across the sea of commemorators, stifled only by the occasional tissue, which even then couldn’t help very much.

The family began after the preacher, giving their eulogies, several friends, and one of his more recent ex-girlfriends. They called him loving and caring, devoted and sincere, joyful and courageous. Memories were shared, pristine images filling the heads of everyone who’d chosen to pack themselves into the old Baptist church with its musty air and stained-glass colors splaying down over the floor, making people think that they’d known that side of him, too.

While the last girl cried for him, trying to tell her stories through her tears, I stood up from my place, the last seat before standing room only, and left. There was no point in being in there anymore, honoring someone’s memory when we all had our own.

I walked outside, out of the chilled foyer, as if they wanted to make you feel stereotypically numb, stepping into pure sunshine. It was ironic that this kind of blinding light could even exist on a dark day like this, like some kind of grim, twisted fairytale, but all the same, the world didn’t stop for one.

It was cold outside, though not uncomfortably so, but I pulled my coat around me anyway and headed out across the battered parking lot to the park. In appearance, it was crowded with laughing children and gossiping parents, but if you walked a little further, past the last edge of the latest installment of sidewalk, on to the torn and trashed rubble that was only slightly similar to anything resembling a path, through the very edge of the towering lot of trees, it was absolutely quiet for almost a quarter-mile stretch.

Not many people knew about this section of the park, or at least came here often. It was overgrown and sheltered, with the more ancient of benches and run-down water fountains in sight. When people did come here, it was usually the skateboarders from the nearby middle school; the place where they could build ramps that weren’t constantly being torn down.

In all, it was like this part of the park was a separate solace.

It was only when I sat down on one of the crooked, warped benches that I could actually feel myself shaking. Blame it on the cold, blame it on sickness – anything; just not the fact that he was dead. That couldn’t possibly be it.

“I’m sorry,”

I inhaled, my breath catching softly. “No,”

“No?”

“No.”

I sat there for another minute, looking at the remarkably green grass, before turning to the bench beside me, hesitant to speak.

Tim sighed knowingly, anticipating my question. “No, Jen. You’re not crazy.”

I turned away again, before turning back once more. “But I haven’t cried.”

“You’re not supposed to. He’s in a better place, and you know it better than most.”

I shook my head, looking up at the sky, feeling outright disgusting. “My best friend.”

Tim nodded beside me. “You’re special, and he knew that better than you think.”

I closed my eyes.

By ‘special’, he meant ‘different’, and by ‘different’, people would say ‘troubled’. Most would consider my differentt as a kind of disease; one that “must have been caused at childhood”, and truly, it had been.

When I was six, I had this old dog named Snickel who loved to be walked… or run, rather. Rachel, my mom, had always let me be the one to run him around the turn-around circle that the neighborhood across the street turned into; a distance of only a fraction of a mile. Being an unusually smart six-year-old, I decided that, one day, instead of running along behind Snickel, I was going to use my brand new scooter to tag along.

The funny thing was that it had worked.

I went three-fourths of the way without problem. Snickel kept running and running, without stop as usual, until suddenly, he smelled something on the street.

He stopped abruptly.

Most people believe that time doesn’t seem as long as most books say it does when you have a hard choice to make, but I’ve experienced different. At that moment, with my manual scooter still flying after the halting Snickel, I had to choose: run over Snickel or make a sharp turn.

I’d always had a heart for animals.

My turn caused the scooter to spiral out of control, throwing me off as it crashed into the pavement.

I screamed.

From there is where everything gets a little more blurry around the edges.

I was blinded by the pain; it was all from my legs, the hurt, the red marks all over that road, gushing out of my kneecaps. I only screamed that once, just because of my six-year-old pride, but the blood was scaring me and I couldn’t walk close to at all.

That’s when I met them.

Two boys, both looking only a year older than me, rushed up to me, asking if I was okay and if I needed help. They stood me up as dirty tears raced down my cheeks, both of them noticing my knees and offering to help me home. I was coughing then, trying my best not to cry too much, and choked out a no.

They sat there and watched me as I stood my scooter up and started home, walking beside it, Snickel no longer pulling. Every few yards, I would have to stop and wipe my knees off in the grass; the blood was running furiously down my legs, actually embarrassing me more than anything.

When I’d reached my house, I looked back one time.

They were gone.

Over the years, I didn’t see them often; only one of them ever went out in the yard, it seemed, and usually he would just pick up a toy and stare at it for a while, talking to no one.

But four years later, on my tenth birthday, I’d opened the door to find both of the boys, still around my age, standing at the door, one of them smiling shyly, the other one with a sad look in his eyes, standing behind the first.

When Rachel could only see only the shy boy in front, John, I knew.

When my friends couldn’t see the other boy when he was standing right in front of their faces, the idea grew on me.

When I had to stop trying to see if people could see him so I wouldn’t get sent to a psychiatrist, I was certain.

I could see an angel.

Ever since that moment when he stepped foot in my door seven years ago, Tim had been with me when I needed him, serving as my guardian angel. He hung out in my room at night, singing softly, or sat in the passenger seat on the first day at a new high school, just kind of watching out for me, talking to me, and making sure that I knew he was there.

He didn’t have wings, or a halo, or even an inhumanly appearance; he was blonde and blue-eyed, preferred worn-out jeans and plain tee-shirts, and had a gruesome history behind his death that he never would tell me all of.

“You couldn’t have…?” I questioned sadly.

“I couldn’t.”

I nodded, swallowing a sob.

Tim sat silently beside me.

“Don’t you feel anything towards this?” I asked quietly.

He looked down at his hands. They looked so real, even to him, as he’d told me once. “Of course.”

“But you still stick to...”

“It’s not in my ability to control life and death.” He said soothingly.

“You can only help little girls when they fall off of their scooters.”

“Right.” Tim quirked a smile. “You were thinking about that, too?”

I nodded, and looked out again at the crumbling sidewalk. “Do you ever feel lonely?”

At that question, Tim didn’t respond for a while.

“Well?”

He sighed needlessly. “I don’t feel the kind of loneliness that you feel – it’s not any kind of human emotion; I feel the loneliness of desertion, of heartache, of deepest desolation, of…”

“Death. Yeah.”

Tim hummed a lullaby, looking off into space.

Often, I would sit there for hours and think about things in Tim’s point of view. Nothing he experienced was often humanly, and just the way he handled himself was something curious; he was always there, but not, with varying looks on his face, though none of them ever revealed what he was actually feeling.

“There’s not a word to describe any one emotion of my own,” he’d said once, when I’d asked him after my father had left. “Whereas you, here, are limited in your speech, while where I am, I can express beyond all of the limits that language enforces.”

Now, looking at my angel, I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He claimed not to think about things too much; just that he knew them, and the things he did have to think about were usually best left alone.

Suffice to say, we didn’t talk about his family or previous life very much.

“Jen,” he said softly, startling me. Usually it was me who started the conversations, “what did you think of him?”

“I thought…” I paused, trying to gather my thoughts. There were so many of them, jumbled up and tossed into my head, recklessly clashing into one another. “I thought that he was as close to an angel as anyone would ever meet. He was like you in a way, but more… touchable, almost. He would bend over backwards to make sure everything was okay, and most of all, he believed in angels more than anyone I knew.”

“Angels…” mused Tim. “How ironic.”

“Isn’t it? He used to talk about how he felt like he missed half of his own life after… well, you know better than I do… But he would say things about heaven and how he believed we were all being watched over by angels from heaven who could do anything; to who nothing was impossible.”

“Doing nothing is impossible.”

I rested my head in my hands. “So it seems.”

“So it is.”

I could feel Tim’s eyes probing me as I refused to meet them. His eyes were the kind that could see your soul; the kind that made you feel the answer before you spoke it, which made you consider everything before thinking anything.

The wind howled around us, rising through the trees.

“I still think I should cry.”

I felt Tim shrug next to me. “Crying is for those who mourn; you should know better.”

“But wouldn’t you cry, in my case?”

He was still, and what I said sank in.

“Sorry.” I said dully, glancing over at him.

“You forgot. It’s not a sin to forget.”

“I shouldn’t have.”

He laughed. “Forgotten that I’m not one of you? That I’ve never experienced ‘your case’? Relax, Jen, there’s no problem.”

He said that, and I got chills. Sometimes, the way he talked made him seem even more human, though at other times, he could seem more otherworldly because of the same words.

We sat there for a while.

Staring at the trees.

At the grass.

At the chunks of rock.

At countless, swooping birds.

And then I turned to him again.

“What about you?”

He looked at me, questioning.

“What did you think of him?”

I didn’t expect him to answer right away, and I was right in assuming. When he did answer, I could feel some of his soul in the words he chose, in the ways he expressed it.

“John was a believer in me, through hope and faith alone. He would’ve taken my place in a heartbeat had that car not swerved, and I think that he chose to see you again because he knew that you would be able to see me. That’s why you were his friend, Jen. Both of you could see me – through your eyes and his actions.”

I could actually feel the tears, my heart beating hard and slow. “So you miss him?”

“Of course.” He said sadly. “Anyone would miss their brother.”

------

Soooo? What'dya think? A huge lame-o mass of nonesense?

Hahaha. I wrote most of it today. It's almost two in the morning here.

Love,
Lauren.

♥♥♥♥

VICTORIOUS! I DID THE CHALLENGE, BOOYAH!

Okay, so here it is, my short story. Cheesy pasta as it may be it's here. I like it a lot better than I did, I've edited it a bit but not a ton. It's 1,985 words, I could have made it more but I was too lazy to edit it more. You get what you get ;) :P :) (Pssst.....picture is the best picture I could find of the MC......Ergh.)


I was so nervous that day and Ethan had been so…nice to me in the past few hours…I didn’t want it to end but yet, I knew it would, as every word finished the end came near and as I stepped into place my nerves had me worrying if I’d forget anything…Five, four, three; I counted down in my head as I stared out at the black veil before me, waiting for the lights to go up. Two, one; the lights flew on and immediately I felt my heart pounding. Taking a deep breath and letting it out I walked from behind the dark curtain and onto the polished wooden stage. I turned out, staring out at the chairs, blinded by the stage-lighting before turning my head and tilting myself towards my right as I heard gentle footsteps enter and come across the floor.

There he was, walking towards me as if nothing in the world was the matter. His eyes were locked on mine, deep green eyes on a blue ocean background. It seemed to take forever for him to walk nearly a foot from me, his blonde hair looked like angels were kissing it and creating a halo around his head. “Jessamine,” He extended his hand out towards me but I turned my head, “Come on, Jezzy,” His voice pleaded, the nickname falling of his lips like silk. I scrunched my nose and stared down at the small white dot on the wall towards the floor as I crossed my arms.

Ethan crossed his arms, looking away stubbornly as well. My eyes traveled back, right on cue-but it wasn’t the direction I was given that I was thinking of, that I was holding to-oh no. I was looking at him, out of the corner of my eyes, his jaw set firm, arms crossed tight across his firm broad chest, head tilted away at an angle allowing the white lights to kiss his cheeks-he looked completely gorgeous. It wasn’t hard to seem like I was in love with him because I really was. “I guess…” I trailed off, lowering my arms and looking at him; his head turn towards me, an endearing-nearly passionate look in his eyes-never had I seen that look before and it hurt. “I suppose we could do it….for Mrs. Chamberlain and the other actors of course, Eden, it doesn’t mean-”

“We’re talking, I know.” His eyes rolled and he walked upstage. I made a dramatic sigh and followed. It all felt far too real, it was too real. Holding his hand out towards me he looked at me and I slide my hands into his, everything seemed to melt away so fast. Even as Cassandra did her role of being the panicking, nit-picking director and stormed off the stage it was as if she was so far in the distance I couldn’t hear her as Ethan and I pretend to fight by uttering words under our breath. Within an instant later we were sweeping across the floor together and it all seemed to fall into place. No longer did it feel like scripts and props, like direction and stage-lights but truth. It was like the last light of hope had shown down upon us. The way our feet occasionally stomped the floor board and then moved along with each other like waves the next was as if we were fighting some sort of war, some sort of loosing battle where every time we’d try to pull farther and farther away we were just being pulled closer and closer together. Finally, he pulled me in, there was no way to be closer than we were, slowly, gently he dipped his head down towards mine and just as slowly the lights dimmed.

Ethan smiled down at me lightly as the auditorium roared like thunder from yells, whistles and applause. “Great job, Faith.” He spoke simply as we parted at the same time the lights came up and our friends surrounded us. “You too, Ethan,” I said but my voice was droned out by the applause and he was paying no attention to me anyway, he was preparing for the bows. I was the only one still wrapped up in us…in what ‘we’ could have been. Time seemed to go by slowly as the crowd left and we began picking up. Ethan and I parted our ways, walking away out into the night in two different directions with our friends as if there was nothing ever between us, as if we were never friends, as if everything we’d ever been through didn’t matter anymore. For once in my life I felt like I was the only one who didn’t believe it over, or perhaps I just didn’t want it to be over. Either way, I was wrong. We never spoke again after that, both of us parted our ways and after graduation we both went on to college never seeing each other again. Or at least, he never saw me.


“There you have it,” The reporter said, “Ethan Camry on his latest film, The Black Hawke.” My friend sighed dreamily, “He’s so gorgeous,” she mused, “I’d see any movie with his name on it, he could make any girl swoon-making her fall head over heels for him. I’d marry him any day-did you see him in ‘The Great River’ oh dear lord.” She slipped farther down on the couch, “I’d die to have him speak words like that to me everyday.”

I found myself laughing a bit to myself as I changed the channel, biting into my pop corn. I always knew Ethan would be famous; he was so immensely gifted in many ways I was not. Apparently; seeing as I was still the little girl in South Dakota serving burgers at the local diner and struggling her way through college. Acting never got me anywhere, all it was, was a hobby. However, for him-it was everything. Scouts found him the minute he graduated from High school and gave him all sorts of scholarships; he went off to some famous drama schools and then bigger and better things. According to the news he'd won some awards a time or two, he seemed pretty happy-good for him. “Eh,” I shrugged, trying to hide my laughter, “That’s his Characters, Lynn, not he himself.”

“Oh yes,” She rolled her eyes, “like you’d know the real him. No one is that good of an actor, Faith, face it-he’s good to the bone.” I frowned lightly staring at the bowl of popcorn in my lap as her words repeated in my head. I didn’t know him anymore but long ago, when we were younger before he and I both changed we both knew each other as if we were one person. I shut off the TV and placed the bowl down on the coffee table, “We should get to bed, Lynn, I have work early in the morning and you have classes.”

“I wish you’d take your classes up again, we miss you.” She looked at me and I sighed shutting out the light as she settled on the couch, “I can’t afford to take full time classes, I’m working at the diner and trying to make something of myself-I’d be running ragged if I took full time classes.” I shook my head strawberry orange-blond braids swaying, “Night.” I bounded up the stairs as she called the same words up the stairs towards me. It took my a long time to get to sleep that night, a lot of tossing and turning were going on and I just couldn’t seem to rest my mind. However, after a lot of hard mind clearing attempts I finally drifted off.

“One burger, a fry and a grand ole shake.” One of the people from the kitchen called out at me and rang the bell. I took the food and brought it to the man whom had ordered it. “Jib, you’re here on an irregular day,” I mused, “well, thought I’d wish you a happy birthday, Faith.” I smiled brightly, “thank you, enjoy.” I flashed him another smile as my boss called me over and a skated to her, “What’s up, Gia?

“Some guy,” She nodded to someone in the outside patio, “he asked for you, but didn’t give a name, strange guy-have an idea of whom it may be or do you want me to tell him to get?” I starred out the window, “No, its okay, Gia, I can handle it.” I wheeled around her and headed outside, making my way over to the only person outside on the shaded patio on that hot summer day. He was dressed in a foe leather jacket, jeans, sneakers, and dark sunglasses. “Excuse me?” I asked and he turned to face me, “Faith,” His lips curved into a bright, broad white smile, “you don’t know how much I’ve missed you.”

I cocked my head, “I’m sorry, do I know you?” I asked and he smiled a bit, “Well, I guess it has been awhile,” He said and took off his sunglasses placing them in his pockets, revealing rememberable blue and green eyes framed by long blond bangs. Slowly I felt my lips parting and my golden-green eyes widening, “Ethan, what are you-how are you-why are you here?”

He chuckled, Lynn was right, he was captivating, “You think I’d miss my best friends twenty-first birthday?” I tilted my head and looked at him, “Last time I saw you we…” he shook his head and held up a hand, “Fay, listen, that was a stupid fight-come to think of it, I don’t even remember what it was about, I’ve been mad all this time about nothing or….at least…I thought it was nothing.” I must have made an odd face because he chuckled, eyes sparkling like diamonds, and reached a hand out to finger one of my orange-strawberry blond locks that was resting on my shoulder and not on my back like the rest of them in the pony tail. “You know, Faith,” He said looking down at me, “I was just jealous.”

“Of what?” I asked looking at him; his sudden appearance was so unexpected but so uplifting, “That guy, how he liked you-that’s the only reason I made that argument.” I looked at him, “Ethan, you were jealous of him, why ever on earth would that be?” He stared intently at my hair and then allowed his eyes to travel up, locking with mine-I began to feel like a stupid teenager again. “Because,” He said smiling lightly, “I loved you and always have, Faye.” I felt my temperature rising up and flushing my face, creating a bright pink to dust my cheeks. “Oh, Ethan….” I trailed off, “How on earth did you ever know I was still here?”

He slipped his hand around mine and we walked around towards the back of the diner, “Well, I ran into some of our old friends while I’ve been traveling, we talked a lot about new times and old…your name came up a few times and how you were doing and when shooting for my next movie came up to be close by-I thought now was the best chance I’d ever have..”

“To…” I pressed looked at him spinning around on my skates so I was in front of him, “To make up with you, and…” I smiled a bit tilting my head, “to show you actually care?” His eyes narrowed as a playful look filled his face, “That and more,” he said before leaning down and capturing my lips in his. “I’ve never stopped loving you, Faith.” He whispered and I bit my bottom lip smiling, “Neither have I, Ethan.”

I'm a cheater :D

So, I know I'm the one who came up with the challenge and all, and I can certainly say it HAS been a challenge. I already told Katie to remind me not to do something so hard next time. However, I am cheating, because I most certainly did write a short story, but it's not 2k. It's actually 2,247 words. And I already cut at least three hundred. And I'm not cutting any more. So there.

So I guess Kelia and Katie and whoever else gets around to it, it's allowed for it to be a little over. The point is to write a short story. Which I did. Hehe.

And the story itself is very, very strange, although I do kind of like it, but I think it's probably the strangest thing I've ever written and a FAR cry from Mirany. Just be prepared. ;)
Comments and criticism shall be appreciated!

Sea Souls

By Anna Ingraham
Copyright 2008

The girl blinked as salty spray hit her wide, dark eyes. The ocean, which had been so beautiful that morning, now tossed and turned like something had made it very, very angry. A wave slapped against the shore and sent water spraying up, hitting her bare arms, but the girl didn’t step back. She stared into the water, wanting to lose herself in that angry green blue, and not caring that the hem of the fine black dress Sandra had made her wear was getting completely soaked with sea. A sudden urge to take off the horrible dress and go swimming hit her, and she almost laughed as the image of Sandra’s horrified face flashed through her mind. She would never get away with it.
A raindrop hit her face, and she glanced up. The clouds that had threatened all afternoon seemed to be finally giving up their burden. The girl titled her head back and smiled softly. “God’s crying,” she whispered.

She didn’t turn when she heard her name, knowing she couldn’t stay much longer but not wanting to leave the angry sea. Sometimes she felt like the sea was the only person - thing, she had anything in common with. She knew it was strange. But she also knew her mother had felt the same way; had felt most at home right here by the ocean. She didn’t like it that they were going to take her away to be buried in the family lot. She wouldn’t have wanted that. But then, she wouldn’t have wanted any of this.
“Sammy!” she jumped as Sandra appeared next to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s pouring, if you hadn’t noticed. Come inside before you get phenomena!”
She turned away, still staring out over the ocean. “I’d rather stay out here.”
Sandra’s voice softened. “I know, Sam. With all the strangers, the people mom knew... it’s a little awkward, right? I’m sorry.”
“It’s not that!” she jerked away, frowning, and Sandra took a step back.
“What, then?”
Sam looked up, blinking water out of her eyes furiously. “Do you even care she’s gone?” she said, her throat dry, although water fell all around.
Sandra looked taken aback. “Of course! What do you think I am?! She was my mother too, you know.”
Sam turned away, shaking her head. “I’ve heard you talking with people. You say things... things no daughter should say.”
“Things that are true,” she replied softly. “Sam!” she grabbed her arm, forcing her to look at her. “Didn’t you see her at the end? She was crazy. She wasn’t here any more.”
“That’s not true!” she screamed, feeling sudden hot tears pour out of her eyes. “She wasn’t crazy! How can you call her that?! She was never crazy!”
Her sister shook her head sadly, covering her hand with her mouth as though she needed to keep something inside, and then turned and walked away. Sam stared after her with a sinking feeling, like she really could have expected more. She turned back to the ocean and stood there, as the rain soaked her dress, her hair; seeping into her very pores, it seemed, till she felt so heavy with water she wanted to scream. And finally, she did.
“Clara!” she called out, voice wobbly. She took a step forward, barely feeling the cold sea splashing around her feet. “Clara! Mom! Mom!” Her feet slipped on a smooth stone in the ocean bed, and she fell, the stormy waters of the sea excepting her gladly.
And the rain continued to fall.

Cold fingers stroked her face and she cracked open her eyes, the sudden light making her head ache. It was morning. Sam turned to her side and wondered faintly what she was doing on the beach. Sand dug into her cheek but she didn't’ bother moving again, too tired to even wonder who could have been touching her face. She wrinkled her forehead as she realized she wasn’t on the normal beach, as she should have been looking strait down at her house. All she saw was sand, and more sand, stretching on for miles. Where was she?
A pair of feet appeared in front of her face, and she blinked. The feet shimmered slightly, and she began to wonder if she was going insane, just like... no, she wouldn’t think that. She sat up quickly and looked into the face of the strangest girl she’d ever seen. She was maybe a little older then her, tall, with extraordinary green-blue eyes and hair that was so blonde it shined white in the sun. Or maybe it wasn’t blonde at all, she wasn’t sure. The wind moved a bit of the girls curly hair, and it seemed to go almost pearly green for a moment. She put a hand down to Sam, and she looked at it for a moment, still sure there was something faintly odd about her skin, but finally took it and stood, feeling her bones creak as if she’d been asleep for months. The girl smiled lightly, a questioning look on her face, and Sam cleared her throat, tasting gritty sand in her mouth.
“Who are you?” she finally managed, and then had to hack for a moment, as her throat closed up and she felt like she was going to be sick. The strange girl frowned in concern, her pretty features going oddly dark, and put a hand on her arm. Sam shrugged her off, swallowing hard, and then looked up to meet her eyes fiercely.
“You can call me Leah,” the girl said softly.
Sam turned away, wanting to challenge her but not having the energy. “Where are we?” she asked, trying not to feel frightened.
“Ithaca,” Leah said, smiling again, and Sam glared at her.
“Isn’t that a town in New York?”
Leah shrugged. “Is it?”
Sam sighed, and walked away, down the beach, trying to see how long it went on. She reached the corner, heart sinking as she went around the bend and saw more beach, stretching on. “It’s an island,” she grumbled, glancing up at the bright blue sky. “Thanks God. I’m surrounded by my mothers best friend.”
“It’s hardly his fault,” Leah said, coming up beside her, and she stared at her sharply.
“What do you know?”
“Aren’t you the one who wouldn’t come in when your sister said to?”
“How do you know that?!” She grabbed her arm fiercely, and Leah jerked away, eyes wide.
“Don’t touch me,” she hissed.
“What? Sorry,” she stepped away, taken aback, and Leah seemed to relax a little.
“It’s just,” she paused, glancing at Sam’s hair, “you’re still wet.”
She looked down at her short brown hair, dripping salty water down her neck, and laughed. “So?”
“I’m afraid of water,” her face was still tense, and she looked away uncomfortably.
“You’re on an island and you’re afraid of water,” Sam nodded, as if this was believable at all. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“I live here,” Leah shrugged, still not looking at her, and Sam coughed back another laugh. This girl made absolutely no sense at all.
“So there’s other people here? A village, maybe?” she wasn’t even going to bother thinking about how she’d gotten there, what she wanted now was to get back. And a village meant a boat.
“There’s no one else here,” Leah said seriously. “My mother... used to be. A long time ago.”
“So there’s no way off?” she kicked the sand, sending it spraying up in front of them, and didn’t look at the strange girl, afraid her face would show how much the word mother had bothered her.
“There is,” Leah looked out at the sea, her shining hair shifting in the wind, “but you would never make it.”
“I’m a good swimmer,” Sam said stubbornly.
“You would need more then that.”
She looked at her and laughed, almost bitterly, then walked away towards the sea, stopping where her toes met the surf. “Have you noticed people are always telling me what I need?” she said to the air.
“Why are you here?” Leah came up behind her, stopping a few feet away.
“Good question,” Sam didn’t turn, “I’d like to know the answer, too.”
“Are you sad about your mother?”
She turned so quickly water splashed up, and Leah jumped away with a yelp. “What do you know about her?”
“She talked to the sea,” Leah met her eyes, and for the first time Sam really saw the strangeness of her skin, her hair. She didn’t look human.
“What are you?” she whispered.
Leah smiled and turned away. “Have you ever seen a mother of pearl shell?”
“Sure, they wash up on my beach all the time. I have a collection.”
“Just like your mother,” the strange girl nodded, her hair glowing pink for a moment, before fading back to it’s pearly white.
“I’m not like my mother!” Sam’s eyes flashed, and Leah looked taken aback.
“I thought you didn’t think she was crazy?”
She ran a hand through her sandy wet hair. “I don’t know. I don’t know what she was. But Sandy has no right to say that to people...” she trailed off. “Am I like her? Are you just in my imagination?”
“If I’m just your imagination then you’re just my imagination and we’re both in a bit of a pickle.”
Sam snorted, then turned away, spotting something floating on a wave as it washed in, and waded through the water to pick it up. “Fancy,” she laughed a little, “mother of pearl.” She tossed it towards Leah, who froze, and didn’t catch it, her face shimmering intensely for a moment. “What’s the matter now?” Sam demanded.
“Do you know what they are, those shells?” she whispered.
“They’re shells...”
Leah shook her head, looking strangely angry. “They’re me.”
“What?!”
“All shells like this,” she picked up the small fragment and tilted it gently so the light hit it, sending colors sparking off, “are born like... you. Human in appearance. Mostly.”
“Yeah, right.”
“They grow up just like a human too, able to talk, walk, think - everything. Unless salt water touches them. Then they turn into... this,” she stopped, looking sad, and Sam stared at her.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Look at my hair; my skin,” she held out her arms and they shimmered stronger then ever before, colors dancing off them. “I am part of the sea. All parts of the sea have souls. Some have bodies for awhile, some don’t.”
Sam backed up slowly, suddenly feeling strangely afraid. “Either I am insane or you’re trying mighty hard to make me think I am.”
“Neither,” Leah said, rolling her eyes. “It’s why I’m so afraid of water,” she turned to the ocean, that trace of sadness still on her face. “My mother-er, the shell, as you call us, who used to live here - she changed. She said we all must, for it is the way of things. But I don’t want to be a hard, little, rocky thing. I won’t.” Her face had gone cold and she looked at Sam with such determination she immediately found herself agreeing with her.
“Of course not! If I couldn’t think or move ...” she trailed off, frowning, “not that I believe you or anything.”
“Do you have a choice?” Leah said softly.
“Yes!” Sam’s eyes sparked angrily, “I do, and you can’t tell me I don’t! I hate it when people do that! I’m not going to believe you, I’m going to freaking go home, and I don’t care what you say and I don’t care what Sandra says, and I-”
“She was crazy, you know,” she interrupted quietly.
Sam took a deep breath, then let it out in sudden defeat. “I know,” she said sadly.
“And you’re not.”
She met her eyes, and the fear in her own was evident. “I’ve always been like her... the doctors said it could have passed to one of us.”
“Trust me,” Leah smiled.
She held her gaze for a moment, then broke away, nodding. “I’m going to go.”
“There’s no where to go.”
“I have to try to get back.”
“You’ll die.”
“I have to try.”
She turned, and waded into the ocean once again, not stopping when it reached her waist, but starting to swim. On the beach, Leah watched her bobbing head with something close to tears in her eyes. “She’ll die,” she said. A gust of wind blew across the sandy beach, spraying water into the air. You can save her, it whispered. Her eyes turned a sudden bright blue, and she smiled. “I can save her.”
She ran forward, and leapt into the ocean.

Cold fingers touched her face, once again. She opened her eyes, coughing desperately, and felt water gushing out of her mouth.
“Sam, Sam, oh my gosh Sam, you’re alive! You’re okay! Thank God!” Sandra leaned over her, cradling her head, salty tears bouncing off her face.
“What’s the matter?” Sam croaked.
“Don’t you remember honey?” Sandra said, crying harder. “You almost drowned. I almost lost you, too! I couldn’t bear it!” She covered her face with her hands and turned away, sobbing. Slowly, Sam reached up to touch her shoulder, feeling something close to tears on her face, too. She looked down at the hand still by her side, and uncurled her fist gently, sucking in her breath. There, in her palm, lay a shell.
It was mother of pearl.

Can someone please tell me what I'm doing?!

Well here it is, most of what I have written in White Rose. I apologize for the length but it didn't make sense to do any less, and it probably would have been utterly confusing, sooo deal. :P If you haven't read the beginning go to la blog (wanderdreams.blogspot.com), as it's posted there! And you should know that my plot is kind of going wildly off track and I don't really know how it's all working so this is ALL liable to change. It's a very strange thing, writing fantasy when you've no clue where all this stuff is coming from. Haha. But anyways, as you will see, Mirany is in a bit of a funk and I have to get her out of that before she gets annoying. Emmy can't always be the one doing the bouncing, mute or no!! 

:P

Another small problem is the LENGTH of these entries, which are like no diary or journal entries anyone has ever written, I'm sure. I mean, really, who writes an average of at least eight pages by hand every night?! It's just not realistic! *sigh* So I'm going to have to fix that eventually. But oh well hehe. 

Without further ado, I give you... Mirany! 

Night after the full moon:

My brothers left us today. I’m not sure why, but I think the fariie’s must have called them at last, as I knew they would eventually. It was a sad day for Emmy and I, but I know I should continue telling events in order since I’ve already started, so I’ll have to go back.
It’s strange, that night that was just two nights ago feels like weeks in the past. Time goes slow and fast at the same time, and sometimes I feel as if it’s leaving me behind, and I’m just left spinning. It’s not going to over power me though, the strange truths of time. For I am Mirany, princess, sorceress, girl with powers she doesn’t understand who, oh yes, just happens to be mute. I feel ridiculous and helpless, although I’ve been doing plenty in the last two days. I can’t allow myself to get lazy and feel sorry for myself. But I don’t know how long I’ll be able to last here, driven insane by my handicaps. Perhaps I should go somewhere to be alone for a little while, come to terms with it all. You’ve no idea how much I think, now that I can’t talk. It’s constant, and sometime the voices and memories become too much and I just want to scream. I’m frightened to make any sound at all though, even though the fariie did not say anything concerning laughing and screaming and non verbal sounds like that. I’m too scared to find out what would happen if I try it. I haven’t laughed since it all happened. I feel a little empty.
And yes, here I go, feeling sorry for myself again. I’m extraordinarily talented in it, if you hadn’t noticed. I think what I need to do is make, or get, one of Mattews flutes so I can work on playing it again. I miss our lessons and the sound of music would make me happier, I know. Perhaps one of these days Emmy and I will go back up the mountain to collect some things and so I can show her the garden. But it might be too painful, I can hardly even think about it now. I’m afraid if I step into those stony walls the ghosts of my brothers will haunt me and make me unable to do anything...
Arg, stop it Mirany. Stop it, stop it, stop it.
That first night, as Emmy slept, I cleaned Mattew’s feathers a little more, before placing him by the fire and sitting there next to him. I could barely keep awake, and eventually I did give in to my weariness and fell asleep. I woke during the night, panicked that he could have died since I’d been asleep, but when I put my hand gently on the Raven I could feel he was still warm and breathing, faintly. Despite all that had happened I still hoped he would live, and do now. I don’t know why he betrayed us but perhaps he had a reason, or perhaps he really was just trying to save his own skin, as he seemed to be, and there’s no wisdom in loving him. I don’t know. I don’t care. I hope he lives.
The next morning when we’d freshened ourselves up a bit, Emmy went down to the village to tell her parents what had happened, the edited version of course. She asked them not to share the news yet, that the King is dead and I will be ruling in his place, with Emmy at my side, for we need a few days to straiten things out before we have peasants knocking on our door. We spent the rest of the day quietly, cleaning up the mess in the hall and my father’s study, talking of how to arrange things and looking for any sort of papers or things that could give us an idea of what kind of state the kingdom is in. I’m sure my father has let the country go rampant, apart from his own evil intentions.
This morning, after another long night with both of us waking up periodically to check on Mattew, we awoke when the birds, who had been perching quietly nearby for over a day, suddenly all rose into the air at once. The noise of their wings woke us, and we sat up as they formed into a group and set off, out of the library and down the hall. They were heading towards the front doors, and after a glance between us we got up and ran after them. It took us a minute to catch up, but they had stopped by the front doors and were swooping around impatiently, as if they wanted to be let out. I slowed to a stop first, realizing that they must have to leave, and from the sad look on Emmy’s face I knew she had figured it out, too. “Do you know what kind of work the fariies will make them do?” she asked softly. One of the ravens came up and grabbed ahold of my hair impatiently, but I absently brushed it away and shook my head. “I hope it’s nothing terrible.”
I pulled out the pen and wad of paper I’d started carrying about with me and wrote - ‘the fariie’s have always been kind to me. Don’t worry. Should we let them out?’ She frowned and I bit my lip, not wanting to let them go. “I supposed we’ll have to,” she said, as one of the birds landed on her shoulder. She looked over at it and her voice broke a little. “Stesha, which ever one is you... I’ll wait for you.” I squeezed her shoulders, blinking back tears, then went to the great front doors and opened them slowly. “I wish I was one of them,” Emmy said softly, from behind me. “I wish I could fly away from all of this, too.” The birds swooped out, into the bright morning sky, and without a glance back towards us, flew away, into the sun. Fly fast, I thought, but please, please don’t forget us.
After they had gone, we drifted, kind of mindlessly, back to the library and sat around for a couple of minutes, not sure what to do next. Emmy knelt beside Mattew and moved him gently to look at his wound. I came over and tapped her on the shoulder, giving her a questioning look. “I think it’s healing,” she said, “but it’s hard to tell... he hasn’t stirred yet.” I nodded, then wandered over to the book case which was in even worse repair then it had been last time I’d been here. It looked like some of the books were even falling apart from mildew and decay, but I forced myself to fix that later, (it really wasn’t easy), and instead looked for any sort of papers or something that would give us a clue about the affairs of the kingdom. I found a couple of scrolls that looked promising, and pulled them out to get a closer look. Emmy came up as I sat down and stood behind me, reading over my shoulder. A couple of them were simple legends, nothing of much consequence. One, I had pulled out because I’d noticed it said something about the kingdom and rights as a king and whatnot. It was boring drivel and I skimmed over it quickly, until my eyes snagged on a familiar word. Fariies.
‘Concerning the fariies of Kazire. One should not mix themselves up in the affairs of the golden ones, for in the past there have been dire consequences, even for the nobles of the land. There are many tales regarding them especially involving love affairs between mortals and the golden. All have ended tragically. Take warning young prince’s and princesses of the land!’
“I didn’t know fariies and mortals could wed!” Emmy said, sounding surprised. I shrugged, and went to turn the page, a little disappointed there was nothing more on them. Emmy wandered over to Mattew, who still hadn’t moved. “Do you think we can stay in contact with them somehow?” I gave her a confused look and she laughed. “Not the fariies silly, your brothers.” Who are you calling silly? I thought, glaring, but she just laughed again. I pulled out my pad with a little sigh of frustration and wrote quickly. ‘I don’t know, they didn’t seem to even understand us and we haven’t a clue where they are...’ She nodded, frowning. “But maybe there is a way... I don’t know, we don’t know enough about fariies!” She looked around, a sudden light coming to her eye. “I wonder how much information your father had on them.” She got up and went to the shelf, running her hands along it, and I got up after a moment, not sure how I felt about this. “I don’t know what to look for,” she said after a moment, sounding frustrated. My eyes skimmed over the shelves until I’d found what I was looking for, a certain book that had made me curious for a long time now, ever since I’d noticed it sticking slightly off my fathers shelves. I reached up gently and pulled it out, and a few loose leaves fluttered to the ground. “What’s that?” Emmy asked curiously, her voice hushed, as if she could sense something magical in it. I looked at the loose pages I had picked up and sucked in my breath as I saw my fathers face staring back at me, cold and red eyed as he had always been. It was a drawing, but the strange thing was his face wasn’t in his normal body, but a larger, frightening looking thing, and he had claws and animal teeth and fur on his arms. I immediately thought of all the dead animals I’d seen in his study, and shuddered. Had he been planning on turning himself into something even less human?
“What is he?” Emmy whispered, clearly thinking the same thing I was. I tore my eyes away from the picture and looked at the other page, which appeared to be a crude map, covered with small black and red dots. It showed the castle and surrounding kingdoms, and Krene was circled for some reason and a name was written in my fathers spidery handwriting. Mira. “Who is she?” Emmy said suspiciously. I bit my lip, thinking. I know Zara never mentioned such a name and if she is an ally of his surely she would have known about him. Perhaps the name doesn’t mean anything, but it seems very strange. If it is a woman at all, and she was either an ally or an enemy of his, why don’t any of us know about her? It bothers me. I didn’t know, obviously, so I shrugged and walked over to the big chair by the door. I don’t know why but for some reason I feel more comfortable around doors, as if I’m going to need to escape at any moment. It’s strange.
I sat down and Emmy hovered over my shoulder, watching silently as I opened the book. A puff of dust flew into the air and I fought back a cough, still wary of making sound, of course. When the air had cleared I saw the title at last, scrawled across the page in an unfamiliar form of writing that looked ancient. I could barely make out the words. The Book of Kat.
“Kat,” Emmy whispered from behind me, sounding frightened, and I turned to look at her. “You don’t know what it is?” she sounded surprised. I shook my head, and she came around the chair and slowly sank down beside me, but didn’t speak at once, rubbing her ear. “My sister...Elise,” she said slowly, “she’s special. She kind of knows things sometimes; she was born able to read, and that's the only thing she likes to do, pretty much. She told me once she feels like there’s a hole inside her, so she tries to fill it with information. And she finds out a lot. She doesn’t know who else to tell when she discovers something that’s horrifying or completely out of the ordinary, so she tells me. I wanted to tell her what was really going on, yesterday, but you said no one...” she trailed off, looking a little sad.
I trust your judgement enough to let you tell anyone you want, I thought, but the pen and paper were too far away, so I simply waited for her to go on. “Kat is a form of sorcery,” she said quietly, “for humans who have no magic, like your father. My sister told me in this book she read, it said the person who first used Kat almost destroyed the world. Two million years ago, normal “weak” humans were wiped out and all those remaining forced to turn into horrible creatures, half animal, half man. Like that,” she nodded at the drawing, staring back at us from the low table. A shiver went down my back, and I grabbed a paper quickly and wrote, blotting the ink all over the page but not caring. ‘How was it stopped?’
“The Fariies,” she smiled, “they had not existed before, and no one knows where they came from. Elise could never find much about them, at least that she told me. All I know is, according to legend, when the world was about to be overturned, the fariies came down from the mountains and put everything back into it’s proper place, killing the man who started it all, of course. I did not know anyone still used the sorcery, after what happened. Perhaps this was the first time. Perhaps the book had been hidden away, until now.” I looked down at the strange book, and felt almost frightened at what could be inside. Emmy stood again, her long hair falling down like a curtain as she bent towards me. “Look, Mirany, before I go insane! ” Slowly, I turned the page, and read the single sentence written there with growing dread.
You will never kill me.
I bit my lip and turned the next page.
I am the one who started all this. And I will finish it. But it will take time. Perhaps I shall be over-run, if things do not go as they should. That’s why I’m writing this down, so the others who follow me can take over when my time has come. They will have to know how to become what I am. It will not be easy, but if they have my passion, my dedication, my evil, as some would call it, the magic will come to pass. They will have it running through their veins, just as I do. And then they will truly understand what I am.
The rest of the book seemed to be filled with strange spells and incantations, drawings that you wouldn’t want to show your toddler for fear of nightmares - that kind of stuff. Emmy and I flipped through it, not pausing to read too much, since we had been planning on doing some more cleaning and we still needed to find those papers of my fathers about the kingdom. Obviously I’m going to read the whole thing though, I don’t know what kinds of horrifying stuff I could find but some of it could be important.
“Do you think the person who wrote this is the same one who almost destroyed the world?” Emmy asked, as we were looking through it. I had thought the same thing myself, although the voice didn’t sound so much like someone defeated as someone simply waiting.
‘Surely it can’t be that old,’ I wrote, ‘I think it must have been written quite a while after, but perhaps by someone who had been working with him. Or I don’t know... they said they were the one who started it, but they shouldn’t have been alive to write it then, unless-’
“Unless the fariies didn’t kill him, after all,” Emmy whispered. There was a silence as my thoughts raced, but Emmy seems to have an uncanny ability to be thinking the same thing as me, and she has the advantage of actually being able to voice her fears. “Do you think he could still be alive, then?” I bit my lip, and then started writing again, trying not to smear the ink too much. ‘It’s been 2 million years you said? I don’t think anyone, sorcery or no, could live that long. Unless...’
“Unless they were like your father,” she nodded, sounding grim, “immortal.”
‘Exactly,’ I wrote. ‘But how do we know if this kat person is still alive, waiting to take over again?’
She met my eyes seriously and shrugged. “We don’t.”
My hand is killing me, again, so I’ll finish up quickly. We had to move on from the book to do other things, take care of Mattew and look for the documents and whatnot. However I intend to go through the whole book, starting just as soon as I finish writing this. I don’t know what we’ll find in there, and I’m afraid even looking at those horrible spells will pollute my mind or something, but it must be done. And maybe I’m already as polluted as I get to be without being out right evil, what with my powers and some of the stuff I’ve done. Sometimes I miss it, that feeling of power, of being able to control things. I wonder if that’s wrong. I wonder a lot of things.
But I must go so I can read The Book of Kat! Emmy is waiting for me, not wanting to go at it by herself, and I really don’t blame her. If I haven’t said it yet though, Mattew does seem to be improving, thankfully, (I’ve come to except whatever weirdness I felt about it before, so yes, thankfully). And no sign of any papers yet. I’m beginning to feel a little anxious, but hopefully I’ll have more answers tomorrow.

Till then,
Mirany

Two Nights After the Full Moon:

I’m exhausted, but I want to try to keep writing every night so I won’t get behind on anything, and a lot has happened today. First off, we found some papers. Not all of them I don’t think, but some, that have to do with what land we own, the taxes and what the villagers are supposed to be paying, (I don’t think they have been, but I don’t really feel right asking it from them now...) There are a bunch of things my father was supposed to be doing as King, like keeping our alliances with the other kingdoms strong, in case of war, but I don’t see how we could possibly travel around and get in their good graces again, or even send an ambassador. Perhaps we will simply write out a very official letter telling of his ‘death,’ so that they know there are new rulers here now. But I fear telling them we’re two young girls, for if any of them mean us harm now would be the time to take it out on us. We have no defenses, no army, no weaponry, nothing at all. I don’t even think there’s any money, although I keep hoping to find some hidden away vault or treasury. If we did have any I would hire some villagers to work for us straightaway, but with no way to pay them that’s out of the question, even though we do need the help. Emmy has told me her family would be perfectly willing to come help put things to rights, as we don’t really have a clue how to go about it, but I don’t feel right about that. We’ll see.
I wish Kadin was here. He would know how everything should be, I’m sure of it. He’s the one who’s supposed to be King, and a great King he would have been. Ah well, I musn’t think of things that could have been. You know the strangest thing though? Sometimes I find myself wishing for Zara. She had such a confidence about her it was almost comforting. But surely she never wants to see or think of us again. She did what she set out to do, now she must be living happily wherever she is. I kind of hope so, at least, which is strange in itself.
Emmy and I have been reading the book, last night and this morning, learning what kat is all about. It’s disgusting and utterly evil, and involves killing a lot of people and animals, and doing even worse things then drinking your own daughers blood. And I know, that seems hard to beat. But a lot of what we read seems overshadowed now, because of what happened. We were skimming through the book again, it all being frightening spells we didn’t feel like looking at, when we came upon a section that seemed to be devoted to important peoples histories. I didn’t understand why it was just smack dab in the middle of a book of spells, until I actually started reading them. They all seem to be about important people who dabled in kat magic, or had their own strange magic in their blood, and even a few fariies. I was skimming, not really paying attention, and went to turn a page when Emmy put a hand on my arm. “Wait. What does it say there about someone ‘knowing the story language’?” I froze, as if I had heard that phrase before, although I know I haven’t, and seeing my face she pointed down to the spot in the book. Sure enough, there it was.
Cortezamen is the only known human ever to have this remarkable skill, the speaking of story language, or storytelling as some people do call it. He was a very powerful man and only the greatest of his enemies succeeded in killing him, not without dying themselves. I say he was human but that’s not what I mean. He was in fact half fariie, half sorcerer, a very strange mix to be sure, but one that resulted in his awesome powers. There are many tales of the havoc he wreaked, and I think he could have changed the world as it is if he had only realized how powerful he really was. Perhaps it was a good thing he did not though, for he would have been able to control even I.
The tale of his death is a tragic one, but it should be told and not forgotten, for who knows if a man with such powers will ever be born into this world again. And so I will pen it down, having been there myself, and seen these strange and wonderous things.
Long after the days of my reign when the fariies still kept close watch over the land, I had planted myself into a lower royal family as a long lost relative. Among this family was a strange man named Cortezamen. I knew of him, knew that his mother had dissapeared years earlier only to return to her family one day, toddler in tow, and much changed. She never told who the father was, but there were rumors, whispers of scandal with a high one, a fariie. Such a thing had never been heard of before, but it was the popular belief that Cortezamen was the son of a fariie, and for once my foolish relatives were right. He grew up to be a tall, extrodinarily thin man, human in features but he was said sometimes, in dark rooms or at night, to have an earie glow to him. I know that these were not, infact, rumors, but the truth, for on one occasion I saw the golden glow myself, almost as strong as a fariies would be but not quite. He did not seem to be aware it was there, or if he was he ignored it purposefully. He was a strange, quiet man, not prone to friendship or trust, and few knew of his great powers. But those who did, were afraid.
His mother tried to keep him close to her even as he grew older and older, but finally he escaped and went to a distant land, where we heard stories of strange happenings, many of them revolving around him. I was foolish then, and did not believe half of them. Then he returned one night, completely out of the blue, and told us he intended to take over the kingdom. We were sceptical, of course, as we were of royal blood but far down the line to inherit, and he himself wasn’t even in the line himself, being of questionable heritage. When he announced his plan my cousin closest to royalty lept up in anger.
“You’re a fool if you think we’ll just step aside and let you take the throne! It is not rightfully yours and it will never be! What, are you just planning to kill the current King? What kind of loyalty is that? But we know you’ve never been truly loyal to us, fariie born.”
Cortezamen’s eyes narrowed and I found myself a little taken aback by the sudden hatred in his face. He locked eyes with my cousin and said in a barely audible voice “Once there was a prince and his family who followed their illigitement leader without question or thought, and provided him with everything he asked for so that he could take control of the kingdom as was his right.” I felt a strange tugging on my mind and closed my eyes, shaking my head to clear it, and when I opened them I knew that we must support him, whatever the cost. I also knew what he had done, and I was intruiged and a little taken aback by it, but my mind was already leaping ahead with uses his power could be put to.
My cousin looked confused. “What was I saying? Er, of course we’ll support you, Cortezamen.”
“What did you do?” one of the older men of the family asked, knowing something wasn’t right but looking just as lost as everyone else.
“Only told you what you needed to know,” Cortezamen replied, with a small smile.
And so he began to take action, using his power more and more freely, dispatching with the King and his advisors and everyone around him without a moments hesitation. He could make anything as he wanted it, but he chose to use a gradual, round about route, so the people would not suspect. He claimed he was doing it all to get in a position of power and then improve the world, but I never discovered what his true motive was. I suspected something deeper, of course, but I chose to watch, and wait, and see if he could be recruited to my kat followers that had already formed. What power we would have held if I had been able to do so! But alas, it was not to be.
After he had been crowned king, I pulled him aside and tried to ask him what his true plans were. He was suspicious and would not open up to me, but I knew I had to be very careful. “Think of all that you could control,” I whispered in his ear, “think of the power.” He stepped away and regarded me coldy.
“You mistake me, Kataruz. I do not wish to use the power for evil.”
“What exactly do you call dethrowning the king, then? What was the purpose of all this?”
“That is for me to know,” he said, and I sighed in frusteration.
“I have followers,” I tried again, “there is a deep magic within all of us-”
He cut me off, taking a step forward and grabbing my arm. “I know who you really are,” he whispered.
I was taken aback but determined not to show it. “Then you know not to meddle with me.”
“I have more power then you. You feed off others, mine comes from within.”
“Not for long,” I hissed.
“You will not dare cross me,” he whispered, his eyes absolutely assured, and I hesitated, then took a step back.
“You’re right. But I will be watching. When you’re ready to join up, all you must do is say the word.”
“You will wait in vain,” he spat, and then stalked away. I watched him go with a strange joy in my throat, sure that the time had finally come for me to reveal myself again, and this time, the fariies would not stop me.
But I was wrong.
It was not many days after that when Cortezamens life came to an end. He had been ruling the kingdom quietly, not using his magic for anything, and I and my followers were puzzled about him. We all knew he had his enemies, and the assination was not a surprise. Who performed the murderous deed, however, was. I was hanging around the castle that day, prepared to be leaving soon but staying, on a futile hope that Cortezamen would come around, and I was lounging in front of the fire thinking when I heard shouting from down the hall. I was immediatly on my gaurd and used a little of the magic still in me to get to the kings study quickly, where the sounds seemed to be coming from. I threw open the door to see Cortezamen scribbling furiously, and a strange being that looked at least part fariie held up in the air as if he’d been frozen there.
“What-” I started, but just then another fariie apeared and another, and another. We were outnumbered, but I thought with his and my powers combined we would be fine. He glanced over his shoulder as I tried to keep them off him and finished whatever he wrote, then blew on the paper gently and I saw with astonishment the words float up off the paper and go quickly around me and out the door. Then he turned to face the invaders and opened his mouth to speak, but they pinned my arms as one of them threw something with perfect timing and it landed in his mouth. His eyes widened in surprise and he went to spit out whatever it was, but it had dissolved on his tounge, and in a moment he had slumped, lifeless, to the floor. The fariies had killed their own offspring. They disapeared from the air leaving me to deal with his body, but I left it there in the study and fled, knowing I would be accused of the crime, and I did not return to that kingdom for quite some time.

When Emmy and I got to the end of the entry we both sat there, rather stunned. “So there was another like you!” she finally burst out, “and he could do great things! What do you think it means?” I shrugged, feeling strangely put out, like I had enjoyed being one of a kind or something, but Emmy didn’t pay any attention to me. She walked around my chair and grabbed my paper, plopping it in my lap. “It said he sent a message by blowing on the paper. Do you think you could do the same?” I was still feeling cross and doubted it fiercly, but Emmy bounced beside me so I sighed and started to write. You’re a silly girl Emmy Sands, just because an old bodger could do a fancy trick with words doesn’t mean I’ll be able to. She laughed as she read over my solder, but nudged me as I hesitated and after a moment I bent my head and blew quickly on the paper, feeling extremely stupid as I did so. Nothing happened, and I bit my lip with a little pang of dissapointment. Perhaps I simply wasn’t as powerful as the man called Cortezamen, if he was real in the first place.
“Oh,” Emmy was trying not to hide her disapointment but I could hear it in her voice. “Well perhaps it’s a skill you’ll gain with time...” Wait a minute, I thought, grabbing for the paper again but not having the heart to write down what I wanted, what if there’s more to it, what if I have to do something else... I picked up the paper thoughtfully and looked at it a moment, before blowing gently, thinking while I did go to Mattew. And then the most astonishing thing happened. I saw the words begin to shimmer, and then one by one pull themselves off the paper, till they hung suspended in the air before me. Then they all turned together and flowed through the air to Mattew, where he lay by the fireplace, still a Raven of course. They hovered in the air above him and Emmy and I simply stood there and stared. If anyone had happened to see us they would have wondered if we were trying to catch flys, I’m so sure our mouths were hanging open.
“How did you do that?” Emmy finally spoke, turning to me with wonderment. I shrugged, just as astonished as she, and then walked over to the message that still hung shimmering in the air. I reached out a hand tentatively and touched it, wondering what would happen, and it dissolved into thin air, leaving not a trace behind. “That’s incredible!” Emmy said, running over with a laugh. “At least we won’t have to worry now about getting messages to other kingdoms.” I smiled, but really I felt a little scared. There’s so much I don’t know about myself, about this strange power in me. I didn’t ask for this and I don’t know how to control it! I don’t know what I could do accidentally! Sometimes I think the whole being mute thing is for the better, since I am so unsure of my powers. At least I can not hurt anyone with my storytelling right now. But what happens when the two years are over? Will people try to use me because of my powers, as Katuruz did with Cortezamen? Will I become corrupted? And how attached to the magic am I already?
Who am I, without it?
It frightens me.
But I can’t let Emmy see this. She already has so much on her shoulders, and she’s trying so hard to keep my spirits up, not even worrying about herself. I feel bad for being so moody lately, when she’s a saint. I expect her to fly off the handle one of these days and just scream at me; I almost want her to, which is strange, but I have this sense of guilt all the time and I know it’s showing, and I also know it must be annoying. I need to move on from everything that’s happened, with my father, brothers, Zara... I need to, I need to, I need to.
I just don’t know how.
The castle closes me in sometimes and I have to go out, even when it’s frigid outside, in the dark. I’m out here now, sitting in the wet grass in front of the castle, writing by the light of a small candle, and the moon when it peeps out from behind the clouds. I know Emmy’s going to make me come in soon but I don’t want to yet. I don’t like living here anymore. It doesn’t feel like home.
Oh, my candle just blew out. I’ll have to go in and get another match. But wait... it’s just occured to me I shouldn’t be able to see to write. What’s going on? Is this another part of being a story teller?
Heaven help us. I just looked down at my hand and saw something that makes absolutely no sense. 

I... I’m glowing.
Emmy’s coming. I had better run from the dark, before she see’s.

In Utter Confusion,
Mirany

Copyright © Anna Ingraham 2008 

And there you have it! I was wondering if anyone would hate me for putting Pocketful of Sunshine on the WR player?  Because I'm kinda addicted to it and it really matches someone's mood right now. ;) 

So. May I? Pretty please? :P

Also, for a challenge this month I kind of just decided I would do it, since Katie and Kelia already have and I would ask Jessie or L-ness but I know they're both super busy and stuff. So! Challenge for January 2008! Write a short story 2k or less, (and post it, course.) *Ducks from the flying tomatoes.* I know you're all gonna hate me but it's really just a way for me to get ME to do it. So you know. *Giggles evily*

That is all! Fair thee well, sweet sisters!

<3>

Edit: Okay never mind. Still doesn't beat Katie's in length by FAR. Dang. ;)