Dream self

Hey! The month is almost over...Crazy, huh? I'll be looking forward to next month's project, which is yet to be decided. I'd like to do Burden, but I don't' want to start it unless it's ready. I know I'm writing another depressing story today, and I'm sorry, but this one I really needed. And it has a happy ending. So, enjoy if you can, Dream self...

Glass is turning through the air, and she’s screaming, though no sound comes out of her mouth. Inside of a dream, it may not seem quite so scary. But what if you know, that when you wake up, it’s worse than flying through glass? What could you do, but sit through the dream and wish that you could really die. The girl in the dream, she is covered in blood. But the girl of real life, she is covered in tears. The parallels are painful, but she's trying not to think of it. Trying to believe she can forget it all, and trying to focus on the glass all around in her dream that's killing her. Trying to feel the pain that isn't there. She's sailing through the air, and she's hurting. But the real girl can't feel it. And she wants to, so bad. She's been hurting for too long, she's not sure she can feel anything anymore. Stop. The girl thinks, her dream self mouthing the words as she does. You can feel. Someone is out there, and he or she or is going to come someday and help you, and you will feel once again. But until then, try to feel what you know only can make yourself feel. Feel what you think there's no one to feel it for. Feel love. Feel it for yourself if that's all you have, but feel it. You have to. The girl takes a deep breath, and her dream self's cuts close together and her eyes become full of light.

They both hear the sound of laughing, clear and bell-like. The dream girl wipes away her tears and looks down, realizing her big dress of lavender, loads of tulle making a skirt, floating around as the glass comes back together, forming a mirror in which her dream self sees her hair is up and the blood gone. And then, the real girl floats in, jumping into the body of the dream girl for only a second.Their voices join, and she can hear them out loud. "I love who I am, and I will keep doing so until I have someone else to love and someone else to love me. I feel the power of love, the pain of my life, and everything I've been trying to feel for a long time. And love made it possible, in some crazy. Love, and my dream self.

Writing tips LATE

I decided to do my writing tips after all. With 6 (six) simple words in mind.

WRITE WHAT YOU WANT TO WRITE
That is the only thing that matters. Yesterday, I wrote about coffee. It was weird, but it was what I wanted to write. That's what matters. Always remember that. Of course sometimes a story becomes something else then you planned in the first place. Sometimes, a story writes itself. And that's okay. But if you don't want to help this story write itself, the answer is simple. DON'T. That's all there is to it. So, that's that, and here's today's story. It's a bit odd, but I wanted to write it so...

Isn’t is funny how easily we walk once we learn? You see children learn to walk, see them see it’s not as hard as it seems. And then, suddenly, they’re teenagers and they walk and talk with friends. And they can walk wherever they please. Including away. Far away. But as children they focus on the walking itself. The journey, not the end. That’s what I do now. Step by step, breath by breath. But after a while, I can’t take the agony of wanting to go back. I close my umbrella, brush some dust off my pretty pink dress, and sit down. I didn’t want to leave, but it’s too late now. I’m gone. Far away from them. It seems that it doesn't really matter who them is, but it does to me. Oh, how it does. I love them. I love my parents. My brother. But what my brother did was unforgivable. He killed someone’s heart, tore it out, and left me to deal with it. He told my best friend that someone didn’t love her, convinced her completely. The hour before her wedding, because he was mad at me, he barged into the bridal room, upsetting all of us in our pink bridesmaid dresses, and told her that her fiance was gone. That he didn't have the guts to marry her. And she believed him. Ran out. And I was left to do nothing but tears to comfort me. I tried to run after her, but it was too late. How can my brother be so hateful? I know he thought he loved her, but I know better. He was wrong. But now who am I to do anything about it? Answer: I am her best friend, the person she trusted this day to, trusting I would help with anything that went wrong. I sigh and open my umbrella again, opening my eyes and ears, trying to track her down.I hear crying and run towards it, not caring when I slip and splash mud onto my dress. It doesn't matter what I look like, or what I feel. This isn’t my day. I hear her, and I decide the only thing I can do is scream her name. And I do. I scream it, and I hear her run towards me, and I know it’s the most wonderful moment in my life.

“It’s fine!” I yell. “Go back to the church. He lied. He still loves you!” And for a moment, disbelief is on her face, and then, trust. And that, just like that, she run for the church.

April Writing project: Day 22: Can't focus

Hey! Posts may be late this week. Stuff is crazy around here right now, but I'll keep writing. Today's poem is about how I'm feeling. too many new ideas to do anything. So therefore, it is a short poem. I'm trying a new format called a Triolet. It's interesting and a bit confusing, but I found that I like it.  Also, next month, I am going to be starting a new novel! Burden. The short story I wrote last week I really like, and someone suggested I write it as a novel. So I shall. Hopefully by then, I will have my tablet and be able to write more easily. But anyway, enjoy, and have a great day!

I really can’t focus

My mind is too ablaze

My heart is homeless

I really can’t focus

Starting to be hopeless

Is it worth the chase

I really can’t focus

My mind is too ablaze

April Writing Project, Day 13 and 14: Finally Free

EXPERIMENTING WITH 3RD PERSON! Yippee. Anyway, my total word count for this month is 6352. And sorry this bit is so odd, I was a bit rushed. :-P

Adam Johnson was a man, like many were, of about 40 years old. He lived a life, like all try to. He breathed every day of his life, like everyone does until the day they die. He lived in an old apartment building, he worked as a teacher of 4th grade math. He woke up, he worked, he went home, he ate. He slept, and he repeated. On weekends he graded reports, and on Friday’s he watched history documentaries on National Geographic. He had a good life, he kept telling himself. He had a simple life. But why, people often asked. Why, He thought? I wish I didn’t know why. And he would shake his head and walk on. Adam, same name as the first man of the world, but his sins were deeper than that. So  much deeper.

Every day, he got up, trying ignore the pain. Every day, he lived in fear that someone from back then would find out. Every day, he bit his nails to nothing and walked out the door. Because someone normal like Adam shouldn’t have secrets, right? But Adam did. And he couldn't tell anyone. Until one day. After class, a little boy walked up to him, about the age of 7, an inquisitive look on his face.

“Mr. Johnson?” He asked, and Adam turned around, surprised.

“Oh, hello.” He said sharply, taking a deep breath. He closed his eyes from a moment, as if trying to remember something. Then he opened them again, the look on his face less sharp. “What do you need, Joshua?” He bent his knees and dropped down closer to the ground so he could be at eye level with this boy.

“I’m not Joshua. I’m his little brother, Mason.” He nods.

“Okay. What’s the problem?” He asked, and a little bit a sweat sheened on his brow. He had a tight smile, as if he wasn’t quite comfortable in front of kids. THe boy leaned forward, putting his lips next to Adam’s ears.

“You’re not real.” Adam’s face whitened, and he took a deep breath.

“What do you mean?” Mason took a step back again, fixing his gaze on Adam’s neck.

“Under your collar. There’s a thingy. You’re a robot, aren’t you?” He shook his head, standing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mason. C’mon, it’s almost time for my next class. I’ll walk you back to your homeroom.” Mason shook his head.

“No, it’s fine, Mr. Johnson.” Mason ran out the hall and up to the next floor, where his Brother Joshua and his sister Addie, who was about 14 and thought she ruled the world, or that’s how it seemed to Mason.

“Did you ask him?” She asked, her voice sounding a little metallic. Her smile was crooked, as if something was wrong with the nerves in her face. Mason nodded and sat down on the unclean floor next to the bathroom. They heard class start and stared at each other.

“I can’t believe he didn’t recognize us.” Joshua said, sounding a little melancholy. We look just like we did back then, but younger. And more innocent, I suppose.” Carrie rolled her eyes and stood.

“I wish I could tell him, but Mother would never allow it.” Carrie whispered. Joshua stood up quickly, putting a hand on her shoulder hastily.

“He’s our brother. We should be able to.” Mason nodded and stood up,

“Joshua’s right. Mother doesn’t matter anymore. Let’s change back and talk to him.” All three of the children nodded in unison and reached up to their neck, touching the spot below their colors. A light shimmered over them, and when it left, they were robots. Silver, tall, robots, with faces that looked like the older versions of the children that stood there a second ago.

Adam walked down the hall, his pulse high, his mind racing. He seemed confused, upset. A few people wondered to themselves why he wasn’t in his classroom teaching, but no one said anything, and Adam wouldn’t have heard anyway. His thought were bouncing around inside him. He peeked around the edge of the hall, seeing the three tall silver robots and his face broke down. He walked towards them.

“I don’t care what you want, I’m not going.” THe robots turned towards him, the digital faces on them smiling.

“Adam.” THey said in unison. “We’ve missed you so.” Adam shook his head.

“Liar. You don’t care about me. I left because my chip was broken, and disgraced the family. I’m stuck like this forever.” The people nodded.

“Mother wants us to kill you.” The robot that was Carrie said, her voice uneven and her face ashen, “But we just came to give you this.” A port inside of her, and ;something comes out. “It will remove your chip, and you’ll become human forever. Adam put his hand to his chest, as if that would  slow his racing heart.

“You--” His voice cracked. “You would do that?” Joshua and Mason nodded.

“Just--Go.” Carrie said. “ We won’t tell Mother. Can you...” She looked at the item on the ground, and Adam nodded.

“Sure, um...” He took a deep breath and reached down, picking up the heavy brass item filled with a green and blue liquid.

“Thank you.” He said. And they disappeared, and Adam took a deep breath. He was finally free. He was free.

April Writing Project: Apparently it's a Pinocchio retelling....Part 2

The words come out as one breath, and I have another in, ignoring the pain. “Please.” I add as an afterthought. The man shakes his head.

“You know that’ll cost ya.” He has a thick accent from the lower town.  I nod, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a silver coin.

“Is that enough?” I ask, my breath short. I need this. Is all I can think. I need this. He nods.

“For a one way trip, but then you’re on your own.” I nod.

“You’re better off that way. I don’t know if I even will be coming back.” He nods.

“You won’t. You won’t.” He says, stepping aside and letting me get into the small boat with one, ragged sail. I take a deep breath and step into the rocky boat.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.:” I say, sitting and rubbing my wooden finger. “I’ve made it this far.” I say, mostly to myself. He climbs in and starts rowing. I close my eyes and pray. All I do is pray, taking deep breaths and trying to ignore the rocking of the moving boat. And I hope to fall asleep, but of course I can’t. I can’t sleep right now, with my skin turning to wood and back again in rhythm with the tides. Finally, the man from the docks shakes my shoulder gently.

“We’re here. I need to go.” I nod and climb out of the boat. I start to walk away, but turn around at the last moment. “What’s your name?” He smiles a little, a shaky, I want to get out of here, smile.

“Ren.” I nod.

“Thank you, Ren.” He nods and rows away into the black night. I sigh and turn around, my jaw set and hands shaking.

“Selena?” I scream. “I know you’re here, daughter of the Black Fairy. You gave me life. Now I want you to take it back.” I gasp when I feel her. I don’t see her, I feel her. I take a deep breath, knowing she’s here. She broke out of her eternal prison for me. To help me. “I know you don’t have much time, so I’ll be quick.” I feel her nod, somehow. Selena was trapped as a vapor in the air, caught in a jar with no life but a piece of driftwood. and Gepetto found her. She created me, from Geppetto’s being, making it so he could be inside my head, and even once, control me. But all that changed when I fell in love. The driftwood she created me out of is beginning to take over, all my emotions. Especially when I lie. But even more when I’m away from Joseph. It’s as if I am lying to myself by being anywhere but near him. And now, allI want is to be a statue in Joseph’s house forever. “I fell in love. It’s too much. He’s marrying someone else.” I feel a teardrop slip own my face, turning to wood at the last moment.

Why, why why? I hear her say.

“Because she’s rich, and his family needs it. He loves me, though. Please, Selena. All I ask is that you turn me to wood so I might be with him. Forever.” I feel her disaprooval in the ari and shiver. “Please.” I say again, feebly. “I need him.”

Think you can just live as a parosel holder in his home for your entire life? You think he would want that.

“I’m better near to him.”

I am sorry, Pinocchia. But I can’t. You need to figure this out yourself.

“I can’t.” I whisper. In the end, I am on the ground, tears around me in the vapor that is Selena, sobbing, not doing anything. And I close my eyes, feeling defeated. When I open them, I’m outside Joseph’s family cottage, and I know Selena put me there. I smile a little thank her soul, and knock before I can change my mind. “Open up, Joseph. You need to decide.” I say, and I feel my throat close up. I hope He’s ready to do all the talking. The door opens and Joseph looks at me, his eyes wide.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t live without you.” I nod. “I’m leaving her.” I excepted at this very second to feel happy, to want to throw my arms around his neck, to be someone for one second. But instead, I feel wood start to spread all over me, encasing me.

“No.” Is all I can say. “You’re supposed to love me so much you can bear through all this so your family can get through it all, but you’re supposed to take care of all of them. I loved you for that.” I whisper, my throat opening and closing and making me hurt so much. “I’m sorry, but I have to do the right thing.” I kiss him on the cheek.. my wooden lips brush his, and I step back, knowing one thing. I’m about to b encased in wood. And this time there’s no one there to help me. “Do wha you will, Joseph. But what I do, I did for you.”

Day 6- Apparently it's a Pinocchio re-telling...Part one!

Well then. This writing prompt-

Turned into a Pinocchio re-telling. But in my style. Okay, then. I've been watching waaaaaaaaaaayyy too much Once Upon a Time. (As it should be.) ;-) ENJOY! I only have the first bit, because it's longer, so I couldn't finish it today. :-)

“But we’re supposed to be in this together.” He whispers, and I shake my head.

“I can’t do it.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry.” I’m lying so hard, and it hurts. I want to do this, want to feel for him. But I can’t. He wants me to kill someone, and I can’t do that. I can’t end someone’s life just so I can be with him. Especially someone that also loves him. “Look,” I take his hand. “I said you had to choose, not stage something so that you can be with me without the cost.” I lean forward, touching my forehead on his. “And everything,” I whisper, kissing him on the forehead, “Has a cost.” A tear slips out of my left eye, and I let it fall.

“But I wish-” I shake my head,

“There is no wishing. There is only doing this, and loving someone, even if it hurts.” I squeeze his hand and stand up. “And you need to choose who’s going to get hurt, Joseph.” And I walk out. Just like that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next few days, I hear that the wedding is being set for four months from now. I see Joseph around, but we don’t speak. He just nods his head to me and I to him. There's an understanding that he’s making this decision. And I'm glad. because I know what I would choose. This is not my choice. This is my little sin, loving him. I’m clear and happy, no secrets. Until now. But I’m not supposed to have secrets. I’m cursed, and I have to tell everyone. Nokia. A voice in my head says. My body tenses.

“Yes, Gepetto?” I rub my hand back and forth on my single wooden finger, wincing when my finger covered in skin splinters. I pick the sliver out and take a deep breath.

Pinocchia. I nod.

“I’m here, father.” I suck on my stinging finger.

What aren’t you telling me? I shiver, still not used to my creator inside my head, making sure I don’t lie.

“I can’t--It’s complicated.” I take a deep breath and plunge. “I love him.”

No, Pinocchia. He says, sounding resigned. You can’t. I shake my head.

“He’s making the decision. I’m telling him he can choose--I told him he has to.” I take a deep breath. “Gepetto. I need him. He’s the only person I feel like a real person around, like I’m not just made of wood and magic. I need him. I can’t--”

I know, dear. Go. Find him. I know you need to. I shake my head, wooden tears coming out of my eyes, starting to turn more pieces of me to wood. I think of him and turn back to skin again. I think of Joseph. I love him, and I need him. Please. I take a deep breath, suddenly an idea springing into my head. No. I think at first, but then I know it’s what I must do.

“Gepetto.” I say, tears of salt coming through my eyes. “I love you, and thank you for helping me, for telling the fairy, that I may meet him, love him.” I run to the harbor, toss some coins at the man who stands there.

“Take me to the Black fairy.”

Theory Thursday- All about the tiny things

As promised, I will post some writing tips every Thursday. So... I'm gonna post a few of my favorite/what I think is most important tips, So here goes, but first-

DISCLAIMER: I do not claim for these techniques to work on all writers or people, I am a young writer, and I am only trying to be helpful. If you have anything to add to my ideas, please go ahead. :-)

DO sweat the small stuff.
That's what my "lesson" is all about today. The little things in writing. For me, it's one of the most important, and the hardest things to get.

You see, I'm a very emotion-type person. I like to make lots of feeling in my writing, which you know if you read it. (hint, hint.) I'm always getting all my characters caught up in the moment and they don't always notice their surroundings. But I wouldn't say that's a bad thing. I would say if that's the kind of person they are, it's fine. But the trick is, I would say, what they do notice. Here's a workout I would recommend.

Walk around your house. Find one odd or non-important object and just focus on it. See what kind of memories it brings back. In a novel or story, when your hero remembers something from their childhood or high school days, it doesn't have to be connected or important to the story.

So that's the first side of it, memories and surroundings, but it goes even deeper then that. (And by deeper, I mean more shallow. :D)

Anything that someone owns is for a reason, right? So when someone is fiddling with something while talking to your hero, why? Even if your reader doesn't know, you should know right? I would say, you can do one of two things for this. One, you can get a writing prompt, (If you have a board on Pinterest, or you can just search the inter-web.) and write one character into it. Maybe not your MC, or your MC's best friend. Maybe it's the villain, or Your MC's brother in law. But just write, and see what this person would do in any given situation.

 Number two, would be to fill out a character sheet for that person. I found one online, hanks to a writing friend a while ago. (http://dehydromon.deviantart.com/art/Blank-Character-Sheet-doc-Over-370-Questions-298561173) So you can check that out, and hopefully you'll get to know your character better.

So that's that, and my other tip would be one that is close to my heart and it's about one of the most debated things of all time.

Planning VS. Pansting
For those of you who don't know, pantsing is a term for those who don't outline, and just jump right in. I am proud to be one of those people. Pansting means, 'flying by the seat of ones pants' or, to put it simply, NOT PLANNING. I've tried making outlines, and It never works. I mean, most of the time I know what happens and around when, but when it's an outline, I feel like I'm being forced. And the story, also, moves too fast. Because it's this and then that and then this again. And I feel like I'm tied up and can't do anything but what the outline says.

Not everyone is like this, I know, but I am. So here's what I do to fix it.

I stole this idea form my sister, Moriah. She used it before me, I just changed it a little to work better for me. so thank her if it saves your life. ;-)

I write down scene ideas, and the climax and all that, but I don't do it in the fashion of an outline. Click here to see the outline template.


Those are my tips for this week. They aren't perfect, and won't work for everything and everyone. I'm just trying to help a writer out. :-) So see you tomorrow, where I'll be posting today's and Friday's story/poem.

Thanks!

Elsie

If an Immortal could die: Chapter 3- part 1 (PLUS THE COVER!)

Chapter 3

At first, when he says it, I think he’s lying. But he was probably ready for that, because he pulls a closed envelope out of his pocket. I shake my head vigorously.

“No.” I say forcefully. “You’re lying.” I clench my hands into fists and tear my gaze away from him. “Just like you did before.” I throw at him. curling into a ball in my stiff leather seat of my car. I see him shake his head. slipping the envelope into my hands with a gust of wind. I feel the envelope get damp with sweat and wipe my hands on the front of my jeans. THen, taking as deep a breath as I can, I scroll up the window, shutting Alaric out, and slip my fingernail under the envelope flap, ripping it a little with my shaking hands. I’ve got shaky tears streaming down my face, I slip out an old looking paper. Sighing a little, I start to read, my eyes misty with tears. Because I know it’s her. It’s her handwriting. Her old jokes I was always so sick of.

Cvita,

By the time you read this, you won't have any idea I’m gone. Alaric pulled some strings so you would have some time, because I know with Jake things are crazy. For the past three or so weeks, I have been a party animal, and you don’t know why. You’ve been secretly wondering, so secretly wondering, why I Suddenly changed. And you’ve been confused. I’m sorry. You probably blamed Alaric. That’s not fair for him. And don’t you throw this away right now, because I know that’s what you want to do. But just “Hear” me out, okay? I know who he is. I can’t write it here, but if you know, you’ll know what I mean. You need to listen to Alaric, help him. Some serious stuff is going to go down. and you need to be prepared. if you want to believe me, go to the little graveyard in the back of the garden. Go to the tree. You know what tree. I love you and miss you.

Heather

I choke out a sob, my hands shaking harder than they ever have before. Of course I know what tree. Whenever Heater and I would come here, to the garden, I would say ‘When I die, I want to be buried next to that big tree.” And Heather would laugh. I jump up, getting out of my car, and running over, through the garden, past the playgrounds, to the gated graveyard. I don’t even ask for someone from the park to open the gate. I just jump over the metal bars, and run to the edge of the gate with the huge oak tree, over-shading all the graves. I gasp, because the grave is right there. Her name. Set in stone. And I’m gasping, choking on my tears. I’m shaking my head. I don’t know what to do. Right there. Heather Olivia Carabello, May 1992-March 2014. And that’s all, but then, I circle to the back and see for words. For Cvita: I’m sorry. I fall down on the ground, upset with tears. I bite down on my lip, trying hard to stop, and feel my lip start to bleed. I swear and stand up, wiping the blood away quickly. I ignore the quiver in my knees as I stand, and stumble my way back to my car, where Alaric stands. I sigh and then, before I think about anything, run into his chest, putting my arms around him I feel his warm, soft, stiff, and caring arms circle around me, and he whispers,

“Do you believe me now?” I nod, feeling his ever-beating heart in my ear.

“ I do.” Those two words I know, are hard for me to say right now. The last five minutes have been an emotional lifetimes worth of tears. I sigh and break away, not going to be the weak one anymore. Alaric lets go of me, and I let the cold wind push my hair back and make me cold. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, counting down from 10 to one. Then I open my eyes, ready to face this mission, whatever it is.

I don't own this picture. I got it from Pinterest and edited it.

If an Immortal died: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I wake in the morning with a monster headache and too many unanswered questions. I drag myself out of bed and get dressed for work. I apply a little bit of makeup, and grab my jacket. Before work, I need to see someone. someone who knows what I’m going through. I take a deep breath and flip my phone open, speed dialing my sister, Sophia. She picks up after the second ring and I sigh.

“What’s up, Vita?” I smile a little at the sound of my big sister's voice.

“Hey, Soph. I’m confused. You remember Alaric?” It seems I can feel her nod.

“The dork who dumped you because he thought he was all high and mighty?” I smile a little, but feel a pang inside my chest. I never told her about Alaric. I thought even one of my closest friends wouldn’t believe it. I sigh.

“I’m gonna tell you something a little bit crazy.” I hear her sigh.

“You didn’t--” She chortles a little. “You didn’t get back together with him, did you?” I shake my head very vigorously.

“Heck no.” i sit on my bed. “It’s crazier.” I hear her sigh again. My sister sighs at me a lot.

“Go ahead.” I plunge in.

“Alaric-was-a-god-and-that’s-why-he-left-me-because-he-was-studying-humans-or-some-kind-of-crap-like-that,and-now-Heather-told-me-he’s-dead-but-he's-an-Immortal-so-he-can’t-be.” I take a deep breath. I hear silence on the other end, and then another sigh. And then, finally;

“So he thought he was better then you because he was a god,or Immortal?” I suddenly feel like giggling.

“Yes.” I say, trying to sound exasperated, and failing. “So, what now? I’m seriously confused.”

“I think you need more sleep, and to just let this blow over, because you don’t know anything for sure right now.” I nod, glancing at the clock absentmindedly. I gasp. it’s 8:14, and I need to be at work by 8:30. I had slept later then I thought.

“Crap.” I mutter. “I need to get to work.” Sophia sighs.

“Late, again? Alright.” She says. “Do good work, Vita. Love you.” I smile.

“Love you too.” I hang up, drop my phone in my purse, pick it up, and rush to the kitchen to make lunch. I throw together a sandwich, put it in a plastic bag, and knock on my roommate's door.

“Heather? Wake up!” I turn the doorknob gently. “You have to leave for work in half an hour.” I agreed when I bought the apartment with Heather six months ago to wake her up for her job as a grocery store clerk every morning. I’ve been doing for so long it’s now part of my morning routine. Heather and I help each other out, we’re friends. I hear mumbling and groaning on the other side of the door and I know she'll be up any second. I briskly walk back into the kitchen, glancing backwards when I hear a door open behind me. I see Heather coming out, her hair in messy curlers and one side of her face creased by the sheet.

“You leaving?” she mumbles, stumbling into the kitchen. I nod and stride over to the door, feeling heavy on my feet.

“Yep. Don’t forget, I’m gonna be out late tonight.” It’s not a lie, I just sound like I think she knows. Heather turns around quickly.

“Why?” I roll my eyes, buying time to come up with a real lie.

“I thought you knew. I’m spending some time out with Jake.” Heather shrugs, accepting my lie quickly.

“Okay. See you tomorrow, then.” I nod and go out my car. as soon as I get there, I just jump in, and stare into the distance for a moment. I can’t just sit here and “Let everything blow over”, as Sophia asked me to, I need to do something. I need to-- I turn the key in the ignition and pull my buckle across my torso before I can change my mind. I need to find Alaric. I grab my phone and text my workplace, telling them I’m taking a personal day, and pull out, taking a deep breath and feeling ragged. I will find him. I will. I pay careful attention as I drive, not even sure what I’m looking for. After driving  around in circles for around half an hour, I stop. “This was stupid.” I say. “Really dumb, Cvita. You weren't thinking straight, were you?” I sigh and pull into the parking lot for the local park. I lean back the car seat and unbuckle myself, covering my face with my hands gently. I sit there for who knows how long, tears streaming unwillingly into my hands. But I don’t move. They're silent tears, so they don’t matter to me. I shed still tears all the time. My sorrow is silent. My sorrow is beautiful. No one will notice anyway. And if they do, they won’t care. Because that’s how people work. But not him. I shake my head at the unwelcome thought.

“But yes him, and you know it.” I say forcefully. “all of what you knew was a lie. And nothing else.” My voice breaks, a sob breaking out, ruining my silence. Ruining my heart and spirit, my trust in myself. “Don’t cry you idiot.” I whisper, my voice harsh and rushed, trying to stay ahead of the tears, who run towards my ability to speak. But finally, I give in, I close my mind, close my eyes, painting an image of pain inside my head, feeling the deepest of sorrows, my spirit dropping down low to know what pain is, what true grief is. I take my paintbrush of tears and paint an invisible picture. A picture of bittersweet agony. I sigh and bite my down on my lip hard, the picture disappearing entirely,not even a glimmer left inside of me, Not even a glimmer of sorrow. And then, I hear a knock. On the window of my car. My eyes fly open, and the pressure on my lip releases, blood rushing back into it, and a stinging feeling appearing. And then, I feel lightheaded, as my vision clears. I see a figure standing there, in black, his eyes bright, an almost perfect match to mine. So many sighs over that rush into my head, and I gasp. Because he  is standing right there. tears rush out of my eyes, happy and angry and sad and aginous. And I want to close my eyes again, lose everything out, but I also want to rush out and embrace him, hold him, hurt him with my love that I know I still have for him. I shake my head,wanting to turn on the car push him away, wanting too many things that it hurts like hell. Because Alaric Is standing right there.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

He looks just like he did last time I saw him, young, wonderful, intense eyes, a blend of blue and green, sweep, arrogant smile, the same angular cheekbones and jaw, his eyebrows concentrated and his spine straight, making me feel small and unimportant. Just like I should around a god. I roll down the window a little, just to let his voice in. I feel calm suddenly, and I swear I feel a gust of wind dry my tears away.

“Cvita.” He says, and my heart beats quickens. “You need to come with me.” I shake my head.

“Why should I? you left me, Because you’re an Immortal.” i throw the word Immortal at him like it’s something shameful, like he’s horrible.Alaric shakes his head, his eyes fixed on me sharply.

“I explained to you why--” I shake my head.

“No. You gave me pain you will never know, your highness.” Alaric shakes his head at me like i’m a young child being irrational.

“You’re being irrational.” He says, as if he’s read my mind. And who knows, maybe he has. Maybe that’s how got me to love him unconditionally.

“No. I’m not. i’m being completely logical. I’m totally sane. Because I’m mad at. Because you hurt me. And I’ll never forgive you, not ever. No matter how much I used to love you, or ever will love you.” Alaric shakes his head again, looking agitated for once.

“Cvita. Just listen.” I purse my lips.

“You have 15 seconds.” I glance at the clock on dashboard, counting the seconds until I can leave him. Leave this man who doesn’t love me. Never will.

“I just have two words for you, Cvita Johansson.” I close my eyes, ready to soak in the last words I will ever hear him say. Because I never want to see him again. Not for one second.For all of his godly eternity he can die for all I care. He can die, just like Heather said. Alaric takes a deep breather and looks me right in the eyes. “Heather’s dead.”

If an Immortal died- Beginning doodle.

Hey hey hey! How's life in the interweb world? I found some time today, so I thought I'd put together a blog post, with some stuff...And things. I don't know really, I'm just gonna Go with the flow. (also known as going to my writing prompt board on Pinterest.)

[Five minutes later]

So...I found this prompt, but I decided it wasn't working so...

[Ten minutes after that]

I'm gonna forget the whole writing prompt thing, and work on an idea I had in the shower today. Just like that, yes. So here I go, jumping in! [falls to her doom]

I'm lost in a book, as always. The same book, again. I'm just gasping at the plot twist for the millionth time when Heather walks into the room, breaking me away from my book.
"Cvita?" I sigh and look up, placing a bookmark over the page and closing it.
"Yes, Heather?" I gasp a little when I see she's crying. My best friend is crying. I frown and set Gone with the wind aside. "What's wrong?" she takes my hand.
"I know this has been hard, after Alaric left you." I frown. Why is she bringing this up now? "And after he and I got together." I shake my head.
"What are you talking about? Alaric left me three years ago." My heart beat quickens. Could she know? But how? I... 
"Cvita." Heather says, and she looks deep into my eyes, searching them. "I'm sorry." I shake my head.
"For what?" She squeezes my hand.
"Alaric is dead." I shake my head, almost laughing. Because I'm scared. And my head is spinning.
"You're talking crap." My head shivers a little at those words. Those were the words I said to him. My voice shakes like crazy. "How could you even know that. He's not--" I stop because Heather is crying. Not just a title shimmer of tears, a small nose blow, but Shaking, sobbing, cries. "Heather--" I stop, not able to continue. Because I know why Alaric left me. And I know why, or I think I do, he came back for Heather. I know more about him then most girls he knew. but I don't know that much. But I know one thing. Alaric can't possibly be dead. It's completely impossible. Because Alaric-- Alaric is Immortal.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
Before I know it, I'm outside in the garden where he told me. Where he told me. I fumble, getting out my phone, tapping on the gallery app. I take a deep breath and go to the last viewed picture. It's him. It's Alaric. And me. Together. Smiling. The day before he told me. I close my eyes, knowing the memory will replay no matter what. I may as well give it my whole attention.

I was so happy to see him again. His face lit up any room, any time. But he took my hand, leading me to the garden, his eyes deadly serious.
"Cvita. I--I need to tell you something." I nod, my eyes squinting into a frown. "It's a secret. And I'm just going to come out and say it, and you need to just walk away after that." I a feel my eyes water suddenly.
"Oh--O-okay."
"I'm a god of another world. I came here to study your people, and you have been my tenth specimen. I don't normally tell you people, but you deserve to know." I shake my head.
"You're talking crap." He shakes his head.
"I'm the god of the sky, of wind, and of the air you breathe." He steps back, floating upwards, pushing my strawberry blonde hair backwards. I gasp and a tear falls out of my eye. 
"No. You--" I sit on the ground as he comes back down onto the ground.
"I told you though, Cvita, you have been very helpful towards my studies." He says, as if that would make me feel better. I  choke a sob out, putting my hand over my mouth in horror. I'd been lied to. And by a god, no less. Alaric turns around and leaves. I make myself stand walk away, trying to erase everything from my mind and keep it at the same time.

The memory fades again, and I take in the garden, feeling empty without the wind, but so amazingly quiet it hurts. And wiping a tear away, I stand and walk away, trying to put my mind together somehow. I thought I'd moved on from this. Now it's back, and I don't know what to do.

(Insert something clever here) And a short snippet I randomly wrote!

Hi! Here I am, posting....And Stuffs. So, I thought I'd rant about my writing situation...Because that's what people DO on blogs, right? :-)

First of all, this is my 40th post. So Happy post, Blog! 

I also want to say that I've gotten to 1,500 views on my blog. so thank you everyone. You rock! :-)

So, as you may know, I have been using my sister's computer for writing, since she has a smart phone and rarely uses it.

So I was all happy, writing, you know, like I do, and being all happy because I was ahead of my goal. :-) (Yay, Me!) but I'd been having trouble with my charger cord. I thought it had a short in it, so m genourous sister bought me a new cord.

I plugged it in, jiggled it for a second, and it charged just fine.

For 10 minutes. It then stopped charging.

I jiggled it, pulled it, and left it alone all night, and still-- Nothing. So, now I'm behind, and I'm saving up for a tablet.

In the mean time, I don't have my file currently. I'm gonna try and get it off my sister's computer soon. 

I would like to publicly (On the interweb) apologize to my current novel, Tears of Life. Good luck in getting along without me, and I'm very sorry to leave you on your own. Mama loves you, though! O_o

So, I'll leave you with a snippet I'm gonna write in about two seconds. :-) It's called, Turning I think. :3

Tears falling down my face, I turn away form the door for the last time.

"Wait." He says, and I pretend I'm not competently broken. I turn my head the slightest bit, just enough so that I can see the edge of his pleading eyes. "Don't just leave, Lily" I clench my hand into a fist, turning all the way towards him.

"If I'm not going to "Just leave" what do you want me to do, Sean?" Sean takes my hand, and I curl my fingers into a fist, clenching my entire arm up.

"I want you to listen." I close my eyes, trying to shut out what I know he's going to say. "I'm sorry that I did that to you, and I'm sorry I left. And I'm sorry I told Susan I loved her. And I'm sorry this whole thing ever happened." I shake my head.

"You can't just go run away to Hawaii, tell a girl you'll marry her, and then just turn back to me and say you're sorry." I take my hand away form him, turning back towards the door. "you can't just promise me the world and walk away, promising the next person something the same. Especially if you start a war in the process, after making out with the presidents daughter." I turn around, slapping him in the face, dragging the diamonds on my engagement ring through the skin on his cheek. "So I'm turning around, and walking away." And I do, leaving the rich boy who I thought loved me, leaving Sean all alone, not caring. Because I'm turning around.All the way. And I'm not looking back.

Stuff Saturday- Writing Doodle.

This week I'm going to post a little "Writing Doodle" I did the other day. It's not much, but I liked the feeling of it.

500 years is a long time, and I know it's even longer for me. Every day for me is a year. Because I need you, but you have passed on long ago, and I miss you more then ever. I could have have not opened that box, you would still be here. I shouldn't have ever said yes. I knew that you loved me, and I didn't need to live forever. I set a flower on your grave just like I have for 500 years. Ever since you died. And without you, I may be alive forever, but I'm dead inside. "I miss you." I whisper. And I caress your name carved in stone, mine next to it, ready for when I die, but it will never happen. But I look at our names next to each other, completely natural.

"Finally." I say, tears falling onto the rose down below. "It's set in stone." And I walk away.

Anyway, have a great day!