Naked

I don't know where I am. It's dark and cold here. My hands are tied and I am trapped. I feel naked... Exposed. I feel so alone--a fear as though no one will ever be able to reach into this darkness and save me. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A snippet from my NaNoWriMo story (yes... that is still happening). As I wrote this scene of Becks waking up after being kidnapped by the land pirates I realized how similar this could be when we feel hopeless, helpless, grief stricken, or depressed. But don't worry... She'll make it out of there... Just like the rest of us. 

a.r.w.

Run

I chased after Lord Death willing my legs to run just a bit faster than they ever managed to go in gym class. He was fleeing like an animal--to see him in such a way made me panic. Faster and faster I chased him and when I felt as though I couldn't run any further, Death reached out his hand and pulled me along. 

"I won't leave you behind!" he shouted though most of his words were lost in the roar coming from whatever beast hovered above us. "Run!"

I didn't think we could do it but we manage to reach the cliff face in time. The opening in the wall was just wide enough for a person to slip through. 

Lord Death slid to a stop and pushed me inside, scraping my elbow in the process. He lipped in build me with a grunt and we were both shrouded in darkness. 

"Move!" he ordered as he pushed me deeper into the cave, the sound of the monster clawing at the rock face  shaking the entire cave. 

Death and I just stood still, holding our breaths and clinging to the walls around us, hoping that somehow we could hold up the world as it came tumblng down around us. 

The creature roared and dust and debris continued to fall down on us. 

"Alright," I whispered as my voice shook wildly, nearly choking me with fear. "I am officially freaking out now."

I could feel Death lean in close, trying to hear me. After a moment he nodded his head. "I'm scared too."

I knew his words were intended to make me feel better and to offer me some comfort but they did anything but bring me comfort. "Yeah," I muttered. "Definitely not what I needed to hear right now."

We slipped back into silence and I found myself clinging to Death as he wedged himself between myself and the opening of the cave. The world continued to rattle and shake. 

"Are we going to die?"

"No," Death declared. I could sense the change in him. As if he had gone from victim to victor in the blink of an eye. There was a spark in his eyes and an energy coming from him. 

It was at that moment--the moment when Death returned to his old self--that the beast outside attacked once more, shaking the cave to its very core. 

"Go!" Death shouted, spinning me around in the narrow space. "Move!"

I climbed over boulders, crawled under rubble, and scurried down the narrow path. We paused in our escape to spin around and watch as the mouth of the cave ripped apart, blocking out the light and silencing the beast outside. 

"The cave fell in!" I was feeling more and more helpless and hopeless with each passing moment. "What do we do?"

"Keep going," Death tried though I could hear the hopelessness creep into his voice as well. "There has to be a way out."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

We were getting a bit too romance-y in the story so I threw in a dinosaur monster, a disaster, and up next is a kidnapping. Yay for hijinks!

a.r.w.

Words

words etched on the page

breathe life to an unknown world

create with each thought

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

I finished NaNoWriMo today!

 

a.r.w.

Becks

“Becks,” I whispered.

“What?”

“Becks,” I repeated. “You can call me Becks. Every one else does.”

He seemed to hesitate for a moment. This was an intimacy that we had not yet shared with one another. I always felt strange when I heard him call me Rebecca—only my Aunt Audrey would call me that and my mom when I was in trouble when I was a little girl. It was not that I didn't like my name but it just wasn't me—I was Becks to my parents, my friends, and to Jed… deep down, I wanted to be Becks to Lord Death as well.

“Becks,” he finally tried my name for the first time. I could sense a change in the air between us. As if a shiver ran down both of our spines as he whispered my name. In a way, I felt that he was here to replace the hole that Lee had left in my heart. He was something to me, but I just didn't know what that "something" was just yet.

All of my thoughts and sense of reason seemed to freeze the moment I felt Death’s arms wrap around me. His body was pressed up tightly against mine, trapping me between the rock face in front of me and his body behind me.

“What are you doing?” There was no way I could hide the panic in my voice. My eyes were wide and I suddenly felt much more awake than I had only a moment ago, more aware than ever before.

“You are shivering and your teeth are chattering,” his voice was calm and smooth just as it always was even in the most uncomfortable situations. “We cannot build a fire so we must use one another to keep warm through the night.”

“Is this really necessary?” I could feel my heart beat faster and faster the more aware I became of his body pressed up again mine.

“It is if you do not wish to lose another one of your pearls.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I am back safe and sound in the US and less than 2,000 words away from the 50K finish line!

Here is a snippet from what I managed to write on the plane yesterday (after 35 hours of being awake, you'd think I would have managed to get more than 5,000 words...). It looks like Becks and Death are managing to get somewhere... heheheh...

Also! I posted a haiku yesterday, till trying to maintain the "create something every day theme" so if you didn't read it yet, you can check it out here.

a.r.w.

Pirates

Death shook his head and laughed—it was a sight that I had come to love to see what with the constant threat of Lee, the pressure from Maurielle, and the constant worry that I would make one wrong move and keel over dead.

I joined him in his laughter and for a moment we both forgot why it was we now found ourselves in the middle of the Badlands, journeying through the Betwixt.

The reprieve was short lived and soon our laughter died back down.

He cleared his throat before saying softly, “It would be wise if we keep our voices down over the next few days as we make our way through the Badlands.” I wanted to question him on his use of the word ‘days’ but he continued, “We don't want to draw unnecessary attention to ourselves.”

“What exactly is in the Badlands?” I ask him, curiously, as we climbed back up onto our horses.

“The Forsaken,” he started with the obvious answer; the thought of the Forsaken's sharp teeth and lifeless eyes still made me shiver. “Anyone who has been banished through the years…” He stopped to think before he added, “Oh, and pirates.”

“Pirates?” I felt like I was quickly becoming a parrot constantly echoing his words. “You mean like Captain Jack and Yo-Ho-Ho?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” He sighed.

“But how is that possible? This is practically a desert! How can there be pirates with no water?”

He scoffed at the sound of my disbelief. Looking over at me from the corner of his eye, he laughed, “I take it you have never met a land pirate before?”

“A land pirate?” This place was getting stranger with each passing day and each new revelation.

“Don't laugh,” he warned me. “They are far more vicious than their sea faring brothers.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Because a story is incomplete without pirates.

 

I'm at 43K words in my NaNo novel and less than 48 hours left here in Russia. Needless to say, I have many things to be excited for!

 

a.r.w.

Cocoon

“Rebecca!” I could hear a voice call out my name from beyond the darkness of my mind. “Rebecca!” There was panic and desperation in his voice.

The cold touch of his hands on my arms helped to bring me back from the darkness and my eyes snapped open to find Death standing beside my bed, his hands on my shoulders, and his eyes wide as he stared down at me in the mixture of concern and pure terror.

It was the sight of Death standing beside me—the fact that it had been him to reach in and pull me out of that nightmare—that made a sense of relief wash over my like a baptism.

I clung to him as if he was the only thing that could save me from drowning in the tidal wave of my fears. Burying my face in his chest, I just held onto him, sobbing with no way of stopping myself, controlling my tears, or trying to pretend to be brave.

I don't know how much time passed as I continued to shake and sob into his chest. I must have dozed off in exhaustion because when I came to, he was lying on the bed beside me, his arms wrapped around me like a cocoon to shield me from the terrors of the night.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

This was the moment I was waiting for in my story. Breaking through that ally-enemy barrier ever so slightly... the angst makes me a happy Amanda.

 

Happy halfway mark through NaNoWriMo! Remember: you should be at 25K by the end of today!! AND today was mine and Adam's last day off work. We managed to pack up our apartment, explore the city of Novosibirsk one last time, AND I wrote over 3,000 words.

 

Three days and we'll be on our way back to the land of the free and the home of the brave... Huzzah!!

 

a.r.w.

Haze

The world was quiet. It had never bothered me, the silence of these dreams until this very moment as I wandered through the darkness and the mist, not even my footsteps made a sound. As I continued to wander, my nervous creeping footsteps grew into a panicked run and my breathing was silenced by the mysterious mist.

If the haze made me feel nervous and claustrophobic, the silence of this dark, life ess place made me feel trapped. I stumbled, searching for a way out, an exit of some kind—a way to escape from the dream.

As I turned around, suddenly feeling disoriented and unsure of which way I had come from, something bright crossed in front of my face, making me scream… though no sound came from me. In the brightness of the light, I saw Lee’s face, staring directly into my eyes.

I stood there for a moment, frozen in fear. Up until this moment in my dreams, I had watched him scour the haze, searching for me but he was never able to find me… until now.

Without a sound or any sign of what he was thinking, he leapt forward, his hands reaching out to grab a hold of me—he finally found me.

I screamed once more and this time it erupted from my throat.

I leapt up from the bed, my heart pounding and my scream still echoing through the room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Dun! Dun! Dun!

 

It looks like the doorway between the Betwixt and the realm of the angels has opened just a bit more. Lee, Becks' guardian angel, has finally spotted her. I suppose it's only  matter of time before he finally gets a hold of her...

 

a.r.w.

Teetering

“Shall we?” Lord Death ushered me forward and closed the door tightly behind us, locking us away from the rest of the world. It was a realization that actually made me sigh in relief… something I never would have thought I could possibly do—find comfort in the idea of being alone with the god of death.

It was strange to think that just a short time ago, I had feared him so much--hated him even.

I would never say that I felt completely comfortable in his presence but, other than Jed, he was the only one in the Betwixt that I was slowly beginning to trust. He had proven himself time and time again since I had arrived here and he had shown me that he did actually have my best interest at heart.

It was something I had never anticipated in this place but as I looked around I suddenly found myself in the lap of luxury, eating, wearing, and living the very finest... far more than I ever had in life. And yet the fine food, beautiful room, elegant gowns, and even the kindness of Lord Death did not take away the longing I still felt in my chest—my deep seeded desire to return home.

It was this strange emotion. I felt that I needed to be home—that was where I belonged on earth in the land of the living surrounded by my family and friends for the next fifty or sixty years.

And yet, it had been some time—a year since Jed had passed away—since I had ever felt so alive!

It took being surrounded by the dead to make me feel more alive that I ever had in my entire life.

I was euphoric seeing my little brother alive, healthy, smiling, and whole once again despite the cost it came with—losing my own life and living out the remainder of my days as little more than a prisoner, separated from what I was intended to be.

My mind was like a see saw, teetering back and forth between feeling homesick and longing to go home to be with my parents and being perfectly content to remain here in the Betwixt, reunited with my little brother for the rest of time…

Not ever having to endure that grief and that indescribable feeling of loss anymore was like finally learning how to breathe again—I didn't want to give it up... which then made me question me sanity of wanting to remain here.

Needless to say, I was confused and I would not be solving any of my problems both real or imagined any time soon.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin from the sound of Lord Death’s voice being whispered in my ear and the tickle of his breath on my cheek.

Quickly running my hand through my hair, trying to rid myself of the shivers and goosebumps that were suddenly popping up all along my arms, I ended up laughing like a nervous little girl, “Oh,” I tried to assure him with little to no effect what so ever, “It is nothing. Nothing…”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

I managed to get a bit of writing in today... still not nearly as far along as I'd like to be (just broke 30K) but I still have about a week to finish up which is my personal goal.

 

This piece of my NaNo story is very personal to me (if you couldn't tell with the very obvious tribute to my brother in the story). It's reflective, I guess. These are my thoughts if I was in Becks' situation. If I was reunited with my brother over There, I would feel conflicted. Thrilled beyond all belief or words (seriously, there are no words in existence that would be able to come close to describe how happy I would be) but also homesick for my parents, husband, family, and friends. It's that strange separation between Here and There, the world of the living and the world of the dead.

 

This was also loosely based off of a family friend and her message to us after she went to see a psychic. Apparently, there was a very tall young man, standing back and waiting patiently to talk. Finally waving to get the medium's attention, he said to tell his mom that he is happy and whole. Our friend didn't know what he meant (though she immediately knew it was Jed) but we instantly thought of how we had donated Jed's heart and lungs to his surgeon to study... to hopefully help future kids in Jed's shoes. It would be like Jed to patiently wait his turn and be nothing but smiles... I need to learn a lesson or two from that boy (still... I'm always trying to learn from him...).

 

a.r.w.

Your Book

“Can I ask you why?” I finally ventured to ask him the question I had always wanted to ask him but I suppose I just never found the time to do so between feeding his killer dogs, avoiding murder multiple times, and reuniting with loved ones who had died before me.

“Why what?”

“Why is it that reading my book is such a dangerous thing for me to do?”

It really didn't make any sense to me. It was a book filled with my story—my life. Half of it I had already experienced and lived myself, it held no surprises, no new knowledge for me so there was no danger in that aspect of the story. It was the future—what was yet to come—that I knew Lord Death referred to. Events and moments that I did not yet know were about to happen; I did not know how my story would end, where it would lead and I suppose the danger that Lord Death spoke of lied within that. But Maurielle also spoke of fate and destiny as something that you cannot change and cannot run away from. Even if I read my book, didn't like what I saw and tried to do things a bit differently, there would be no escape, because you cannot run from your destiny… or at least that is what Lord Death whispered to me my first day here in the Betwixt. The thought still made me uneasy even though I had no idea what it was I wanted to run from.

He sighed and closed his eyes as if I exhausted him—not just my questions but my presence here in the Betwixt. Making sure that I was not getting into any trouble and that I was safe and sound was enough of a full time job for him on top of being the ruler of the Betwixt.

“No human has ever been permitted to read their life story until after it has completely ended and they have arrived safely here in the Betwixt. Then and only then are they permitted to open the book and read it. Most humans have no idea that a book about their entire lives even exist so that should be a treat enough for you to even know that one day you will be able to sit down and look at your entire life and see what you were able to accomplish.”

It was as if he expected me to be content with that. As if that would be enough to make me be the perfect little ward and follow all the rules despite the fact that this was still eating away at me—gnawing at my very soul.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

I had a pretty good day of writing today with almost 6,000 words written. Compared to other years that is nothing to be too proud of but the way this year has been going (and will continue to go I realize as I look at my ridiculous work schedule for next week...) it has been my strongest day yet!

 

I always liked the idea of all of your accomplishments, failures, dreams, and relationships being recorded down in a book for you to flip through and read after you've died. You can see what an incredible life you had and the number of lives you managed to touch...

 

But Becks better watch out! We all know what curiosity did to that poor cat...

 

a.r.w.

Rip

A peculiar sound boomed all around us at that very moment—our moment of contact. It almost sounded like something was ripping through the sky above us.

The two of us stood in silence for a moment, both of us trying to figure out what in the world we were listening to when something caught our eye.

Above our heads was a blinding white light.

I let out a scream as I quickly realized the light was getting bigger as the sound was getting louder—whatever this thing was, it was headed right for us.

My hand still in his, Death jumped into action, leading me running down the narrow alleyway for my life. My free hand clung to the pearls around my neck suddenly feeling I might use them all up in one fell swoop. My legs struggled to keep up with Death’s long stride—I had never been the best athlete and the long skirt I was wearing did little to help me any further.

The gloom and darkness of the alley quickly disappeared as it was bathed in the light of the monstrous ball still rushing toward us at a deadly speed. Rats and spiders fled from the light as we continued to run, the noise becoming so deafening that I truly believed my ears might start to bleed.

The impact was cataclysmic.

The ball of white light crashed, a clap of thunder with a wave of power sent both Death and I flying through the air as if we were nothing more than rag dolls.

I hit my head on something that caused my world to go black for just a moment. Desperately blinking the stars from my eyes, I felt Death crawl to me and lay on top of me, his hand covering the back of my head that was already sticky with my blood.

We remained like that—both of us lying on the filthy ground, him on top of me, our clothes scorched from the explosion, and our faces covered in dirt, blood, and soot—until the world around us returned to silence. We could hear the sound of people screaming and crying out in the distance but the alleyway remained as silent as a tomb.

I shifted beneath Death and he quickly crawled off of me, both of us suddenly uncomfortable with the closeness of the other.

“Are you hurt?” he asked the obvious question. I could see him roll his eyes at himself as his fingers explored the cut on the back of my head. He clicked his tongue but assured me, “It's not too bad. Head wounds always look worse than they really are.”

“Well it must have been pretty bad,” I pointed out as I glanced down at the pearls still hanging from my neck. For the first time, I had witnessed the power that Lord Death’s pearls—one had vanished from sight telling me that the head wound could have been and should have been a lot worse.

We stayed still for a moment, both of us clearly shaken by what had just happened—what we had just survived.

Looking back down the alley from the  way we had come running, I gasped in horror, covering my mouth to try to stop myself from crying out.

The ball of light—or whatever the monstrous thing had been—had found its target.

“Kira’s tea shop,” I found my voice and made no effort to try and stop my voice from shaking in horror as my eyes took in the sight of the wreckage.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

And just as soon as I made a character that I loved, I killed her off... I managed to do a fair share of writing today but I'm still not at my goal. Hopefully I'll hit the halfway mark tomorrow!

 

a.r.w.

Tea

“I had a feeling you’d be coming sometime after tea.” The woman with black eyes standing in the doorway looked from Lord Death to me, winking.

“I was hoping to have a little chat with you—if you have the time.”

“My lord, I am dead,” she declared with a flourish of her hands, ushering us into her home. “I have nothing but time!”

Lord Death ducked down as he stepped inside the dark house after the young woman.

I remained out in the alleyway for a moment, staring into the darkness after them. If I thought the alleyway had been dark and creepy, it paled in comparison to the darkness of the house of the Empath. Death vanished from my sight and for a moment I felt safer out in the openness of the alley than I would in the darkness of the home.

Something moving before me caught my eye, making me look up again, wondering what this world would throw at me now.

It was just Lord Death, leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He looked like a shadow hiding in the darkness as he stared down the steps to where I continued to just stand.

“Rebecca?”

I must have jumped at the sound of his voice because I watched his face change from slightly annoyed at my inability to follow him to slightly humored…

There was still something in me that warned me to stay away--surely a living thing constantly being so close to death could not be healthy. There was something about him--something powerful and perhaps even dangerous--that made me nervous. But I had to trust him—at least for now.

Picking up my skirts that I was quickly coming to despise with each step I took, I let Lord Death take my hand and lead me away from the outside world and into the stuffy darkness that was the Empath's home.

I felt like I had just stepped foot inside a haunted house with lamps covered in old scarves, their tassels swaying back and forth as we wandered across the old, lop sided creaky floor. Tables filled the main room we stood in, covered with tea sets, the tea cups on their saucers rattling softly. I tried to ignore the layers upon layers of spider and cob webs billowing in the breeze over my head.

“This is the tea house,” the woman with hair as black as night explained lazily. She was dressed head to toe in white—a simple cotton dress, a scarf around her head, and a billowing shawl hanging from her arms—it was a stark contrast to her dark hair and even darker eyes. “If you’d like,” she turned her head just enough to look back at me with a smile on her face, “I can read your tea leaves after this.”

The idea of fortune telling and reading tea leaves, numerology, and tarot cards was almost laughable to me. Why did the dead need to know their future? What was there left to see? But I realized that humans always long for more—we need more, want to know more, want to see more… it makes us feel as though we have a bit more power over our lives. Of course, we never have and we most likely never will have any power or control... but it's still nice to pretend every so often, I guess.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

I'm still super behind on NaNoWriMo... I just passed 15,000 words when by now I'm usually around the halfway mark. But today was a pretty decent writing day for this year so here is a snippet.

 

Enter our new character--Kira--the tea witch and Empath that brings Becks and Death a bit of unwanted news. She's named after my favorite student here in Russia and I absolutely adore her.

 

I'm hoping to get a big day of writing in tomorrow! Only 11 more days here in Russia and there is still a lot of writing to do, packing to do, and (of course) work.

 

a.r.w.

Humanity

“This isn’t at all what I expected the afterlife to be like.” I continued to look into the shop windows and watch as people—each one of them looking young and healthy and strong—laugh with one another, hug each other in greeting, and bow their heads ever so slightly each time their eyes fell upon the face of the man walking beside me.

“Well what did you expect?” The corner of his mouth was turned up ever so slightly in an attempted hidden smile as he looked over at me curiously.

“I don’t know…” I tried to think back to Sunday school. “Golden palaces, endless feasts, flowers everywhere.”

“Are you disappointed?”

It didn’t even take me a moment to answer truthfully. “No. I definitely prefer this.”

“Why?” Clearly that was not the answer he had been expecting from me.

“It’s familiar.” I shrugged my shoulders. “It feels nice and safe. It’s not perfect and so I don’t feel like I have to be either.” I smiled as I looked out at the little shops surrounding us. “Bakeries and fruit sellers. Mundane things like food and friends that I thought only belonged to the living.” I smiled as I felt a sense of relief wash over me. “It’s just nice to know we don’t lose our humanity when we die.”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned from you humans after watching you for the last few million years,” Death declared, his eyes looking around at his world and trying to see it as I was, “it’s that you love to cling to what specifically makes you human. You are a proud bunch,” he looked pointedly at me. “There’s no denying that. But if you weren’t,” he continued, “I think the Betwixt would be a much different place… and not for the better.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Today in my NaNo story, Becks got to journey beyond the gates of Styx Manor for the very first time. Lord Death is joining her as she explores the nearby village and she's quickly learning that life after death is not at all what she had imagined... and in a good way.

 

I'm halfway through Day 3 and I'm hoping to reach the big 10K mark by tonight.

 

a.r.w.

First Blood

“Ah,” that deep, smooth voice whispered as I was leaving the library, with a new armful of books. I slowly turned to see Maurielle standing at the top of the staircase, a safe distance from me but still far too close for my liking. “You’re still here, I see.”

“No thanks to you.” I know I shouldn’t have taken her bait—I should have just bit my tongue and walked away… but I didn’t. I moved to walk away, hoping maybe I could make it back to my room in one piece.

“You won’t win, my dear. I hope you know that.” 

One moment she was down the hall and the next, she was standing right behind me, hissing in my ear. I was starting to think that this was common practice here in the Betwixt. But where Death made me shiver, Maurielle made my stomach drop. 

I spun around as fast as I could, not trusting her for an instant. She towered over me in her oversized puffy dress and golden hair piled on top of her head. 

“I’m not trying to win at anything,” I informed her, proud that I could keep my voice steady as my heart continued to pound frantically. “I’m just trying to survive.”

She scoffed at me—apparently I wasn’t good enough for a full laugh. “It’s a shame he didn’t leave you out there to rot.”

“Yeah,” the sarcasm just kept coming and I knew it would get me killed one of these days. “Darn that Mr. Death… such a gentleman that he is.”

“I will repeat: you won’t win.”

“Is everything a game with you people?” I lifted my arms up in utter confusion, my voice rising ever so slightly. “Win what? Death? Trust me, lady: I’m not trying. You can have him.”

It was as if she didn’t even hear me. The sneer on her face just deepened, twisting her otherwise beautiful face.  

We just continued to stare at one another… I’m not sure why. It was as if we were both waiting for the other one to say something or do something—either throw a punch or walk away—but neither of us had the balls to do it. Finally tired of the faceoff and feeling more awkward than tough, I turned and marched down the hall to the safety of my room.

I felt safe as the door clicked shut behind me.

“I am competing with a coward it would seem.”

I screamed at the sound of her voice. Dropping the books, I ignored the pain shooting up my leg from one of them finding my toes as I spun around to face Maurielle who had somehow found her way into the middle of my room—my sanctuary.

“Get out of my room!” I was beginning to sound like a bratty teenager.

“Oh,” she cooed and puckered her lips into a frown. “Or what?”

I stood in silence, fuming. I hated being mocked especially by a witch like her…

“What can a human girl like you possibly do to me?”

I wanted to threaten her with the lord of the manor. I knew he held sway over her and I was beginning to realize that he was more on my side than he was on hers, the so called “mistress” of the manor. But part of me didn’t want to stoop so low… the other part of me was afraid of what would happen if I did mention Death to her.

“They may dress you up in fine gowns and brush your hair and paint your face… but you’re still nothing but a little mouse pretending to be something that you're not.”

I watched her as she lifted her long nailed hand to my shoulder. With the flick of her wrist she tore at my sleeve, pulling it away from the collar of the dress, revealing my freckled shoulder.

“See?” She tilted her head to the side as she looked at me. “How quickly the façade falls away.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

She lifted her brow but remained silent—she must have been stunned by the audacity that was me opening my mouth, getting myself into trouble. And yet I continued:

“It’s better to have the façade fall away to be seen for who you really are…” Looking up at her, I matched her glare. “I have nothing to hide… I’m not sure the same can be said about you, mistress.”

Hissing a scream, she picked me up with unimaginable strength and threw me across the room. I was so surprised by what had just happened that I wasn’t aware of my impact against my wardrobe until I heard it rattling behind me, threatening to teeter over and crash to the floor on top of me. I shook my head, trying to rid my vision of the stars that were dancing in front of my eyes right then. I could see Maurielle marching closer to me, her face bright red in fury, but my body did nothing to move, to try to fight back.

“A fake!” she continued to scream as she pulled me back up from the ground. “You’re nothing more than a fake!”

She continued to scream frantically—about what, exactly, I still wasn’t sure—slapping my face with each word.

“I won’t let you have him!” I could hear her voice from beyond the pain I was feeling. “He’s mine!”

Something in me seemed to catch up with the moment and my eyes were able to focus in on my attacker. Without even stopping to think about what I was doing, I threw my fist out, crushing Maurielle’s perfectly swooped nose.

She reared back in pain, screaming and clutching at her face. Crimson red blood stained the front of her otherwise pristine silver gown.

“What have you done to me?” she tried to scream but her nose plugged with blood just made it sound comical—it took everything in me not to burst out laughing.

I just stood there in a strange mixture of awe and horror and what I had just done. I looked down at my fist that had the tiniest bit of blood on it--her blood.

“I—“ I began to stutter, trying to figure out what I really had just done. Looking up from my fist to Maurielle’s face that was already beginning to bruise, I declared somewhat proudly, “I broke your nose.”

Her eyes narrowed at the sound of my voice; they darkened as they focused on me once more. She marched one, two, three steps forward and planted her hand across my cheek. The sound of the strike was almost loud enough to make the room shake in its echo.

I stood there, cupping my cheek that was still burning from her slap, her blood staining my face. She stood there in triumph, her head held high despite her twisted nose.

And to think… a moment before I had been so proud of me for standing up for myself.

As she continued to stare at me, I watched as her eyes slowly journeyed down from my face to the string of pearls around my neck. Her eyes grew wide for a moment before she lifted her hand once more, this time tangling her fingers around the string of pearls.

“Did he give this to you?” She tried to make her voice deep and smooth as it always sounded when she wasn’t screaming… she failed.

I didn’t move.

“Your silence condemns you,” she whispered as she tightened her grip on the necklace.

I stood still for a moment, expecting her to walk away, but as I felt the air leave my lungs, I began to panic. Clawing at her hands, I tried to push away from her. I kicked her shins and tried to scream for help but it was no use—all I could see was the pure hatred in her eyes. She wanted me dead. The Forsaken didn’t do the job… so now she needed to get her hands dirty.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Doing NaNoWriMo while working 40 hours a week is hard! I'm not even 5,000 words in and it's already Day 2... Fail...

 

a.r.w.

Pearls

I stood in silence, watching him as he retrieved a box from the other side of the room and returned to me and placed it in my hands. “A gift for you,” he declared with a whisper that once again made me shiver—it was as if his voice was made of ice.

I looked at him suspiciously for a moment before I looked down at the velvet box in my hands. Slowly lifting the top, I gasped as I looked down at the string of black pearls, strung into a necklace.

Looking back up at him, I must have had quite an amusing look on my face because he threw his head back and laughed at me. “I like to keep you on your toes,” he joked as he lifted the necklace from its box. “For you, my dear.”

I looked at the gift in his hands, then back up at him. We were one step away from being enemies and nowhere near close enough to be considered friends. Gift giving was not in our nature and I didn’t trust him.

He could either sense my trepidation or simply read my thoughts (neither would have surprised me at that moment). He smiled, entertained by me, I guess. “You’ll want to think about wearing this,” he assured me.

“Why?”

“It will help to keep you alive.” Simple. But effective.

I didn’t want to trust him but I was reminded of how he healed me after the Forsaken attack. If he wished me ill, he would have just left me out there with them, easily forgotten as if I never existed. But he didn’t. He came after me. For some strange reason he cared about this whole thing—this bet.

Slowly—not liking the idea of taking my eyes off of him for even a second—I turned my back to him. I could sense his smile as his fingers gently brushed against my neck, his touch leaving an icy trail along my skin. He collected my long auburn hair in his hand and softly placed it over my shoulder, careful not to pull a single hair. His cold hands unclasped the hook of the pearl necklace and he slowly wrapped it around my neck, locking it into place. His hands remained on my shoulders for a moment longer than needed, making the hair on my arms stand on end.

“It’s beautiful,” I admitted to him as I quickly turned back around—that was all the trust I had within me for the day. “But what exactly will it do?”

“You know how they say a cat has nine lives?”

“Yes.” I nodded my head not sure where this was going or how it connected with my question.

“Well, think of these as your nine lives… Though I think you’ll need more than just nine,” he explained. “If you ever find yourself in a mess and something happens to you, one of these,” he tapped a pearl, “will absorb the damage. Where you would have died, a pearl will vanish.”

“Whoa,” I whispered, looking down at the mundane little pearls in awe. He was right—I should think about wearing these little guys.

“Whoa, indeed,” he echoed, his eyes continuing to watch me intently. “The Betwixt is a dangerous place, Rebecca. I can’t have you dying on me anytime soon. If you do, your damn angel will kill me.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

And with that, NaNoWriMo has officially begun! This month will be crazy, busy, and super hectic on top of work and NaNo and life just having a way of getting into trouble.

 

NaNoWriMo is National Novel Writing Month where you have 30 days to write 50,000 words and for the 6th year in a row, I am going to attempt it... though this is my first time trying to do it with a full time job and a husband! My story is about a girl named Becks who is caught in the middle of a bet between her guardian angel and the god of death. Here, Lord Death gives her a sort of insurance policy for protection in the Betwixt.

 

Where I tried to keep the posts spooky and scary in October in honor of Halloween, this month, most of (if not all of) my posts will be bits of writing from throughout the day. Enjoy! And happy writing to my fellow NaNoers.

 

a.r.w.

Fireflies

It was a long time ago. I don't remember exactly how old we were. I was maybe ten or eleven? My brother was still alive... he was probably five or six.

Back then, summers didn't last too long--those hot, humid nights were a rarity; the sun still kissing the horizon at ten o'clock at night. "Be back before it's dark," that was our dad's only rule in the summer and we always followed that rule... well, almost always.

It was one of those magically long days--as if the world was holding its breath, frozen, holding off the night as long as possible.

As we began to slowly make our way back home, little specks of light began to wink at us.

"Lightning bugs!" my brother shouted in excitement, jumping up and down as he broke away from me and ran after them.

I knew I should have shouted after him, called him back so we would make it back home before the sun set. I should have. But I didn't. And I am so thankful for that.

"Wait for me!" I called out instead as I leapt into the field and ran after him.

We leapt through the air, gently cupping our hands together as we tried to catch the fireflies. We made a game out of it.

"I got one!"

"That's six for me!"

"Ha! Eight! I'm winning again!"

We let the little bugs crawl along our arms and fingers, their green light illuminating our faces and smiles.

A whistle cut through the silence of the night--our dad was standing on the porch, calling out to us.

"We should go," I sighed begrudgingly. "Dad's going to be pretty mad."

"Wait, sisso!" He grabbed my arm and pulled me down. I watched him as he picked something out of my hair. "He was stuck," he said softly as his hands gently cupped the blue glow of the firefly.

"Blue?" I was just as confused as he was as our eyes locked on the strange glow coming from between his fingers.

Slowly, he opened his hands and we stood in awe of what he held.

It was no firefly, I can tell you that. I don't know what you would call it... but it was no bug. It was far too extraordinary to be just a bug. I couldn't see past the blinding blue glow... all I could make out was a pair of wings like a dragonfly's and a pair of eyes that locked with mine for just a moment before it leapt from my brother's palm and disappeared into the darkness of the night.

"A faerie!" my brother gasped, his eyes searching the sky.

The very idea made me smile.

We never told our parents why we were late--what we were doing and what we had seen. And I'll never know if my brother truly believed that he held a faerie in his hands. But I can never shake the feeling of magic at that one moment in my life.

The few people I've told have laughed at me and either called me crazy or imaginative. But their laughter means nothing to me--it can't even compare to the vision in my mind of my brother's face illuminated by a blue glow, wonderment shining in his eyes.

Whether what we saw that night was a faerie, I may never know for sure. But a night of chasing fireflies with your little brother is just as real and just as magical... and just as precious to me.

http://quit007.deviantart.com/art/The-Fast-And-Furious-Fairy-109395698

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

It's been a while since I've written anything (and NaNoWriMo is getting closer and closer)! I found a new website that has some great writing prompts--especially for fantasy writers--and this one jumped out at me right away: Out catching fireflies on their family's farm on a hot summer evening, two little girls accidentally capture a faerie instead.

 

I changed it up a bit to make it more "me" replacing two girls with a brother and a sister (shock shock).

 

I've always had a fascination with faeries. I put them in the same category as ghosts and paranormal occurrences. Paranormal just means something is beyond our realm of understanding--it's not normal. Just because we can't understand it, explain it, or always see it, doesn't mean it isn't real. I am a firm believer in faeries because... WHY NOT?!?!?

 

When I was a little girl, I did have a strange experience down by the creek at the end of our street behind the playground. I was playing down by the water (which I admit I was not allowed to do) with my neighbor and best friend at the time when I slipped and fell into the water. I sat there for a minute, stunned and embarrassed when something caught my eye. It was a fish swimming around by my feet and as I continued to watch it, it jumped out of the water and hovered in front of my face for a moment before flying away. I've never seen anything like that before or since but, to me, that was the only proof I needed to know that faeries are very much real... we just don't always know where to look for them.

 

I think that there is magic in our everyday lives. It all depends on how you look at the world. It's like that Roald Dahl quote, "Those who don't believe in magic will never find it." If you look at the world knowing it's just brimming with magic, you will see it everywhere you look whether its the profile of a sleeping mountain, sunlight hitting the wings of flying bugs just right, or a summer night long ago when you don't know if you were holding a bug in your hand... or a faerie.

 

I choose magic and I hope that your life is touched by it too.

 

a.r.w.

Birthplace

“This is madness!"

The fae continued to lean back against the tree, watching his queen pace back and forth, oblivious to the fact that the hem of her white skirt was now covered in mud.

They called her the Bastard Beauty in this small, godforsaken town and they were right—she was indeed beautiful with her curly chestnut brown hair, bright green eyes, and dark skin. Her beauty was not of this world—he knew that and it was high time she had accepted it too.

“I do believe that is the ninth time you have said that word in the last hour.”

She stopped in her marching to turn and glare at the dark man before her—his skin was as pale as the moonlight and his hair as dark as the night.

“What did you say your name was, again?”

He just smiled at her ferocity. She was indeed the lost queen—no one else could speak to him in such a way and live to tell the tale. “Korzaeleous.”

“Odd name,” she muttered under her breath.

“Not where I’m from,” he declared as he pushed away from the tree and sauntered over to stand before the girl.

She eyed him suspiciously as she took a step back. “And where is that exactly?”

A lazy smile appeared on his perfectly handsome face… a smile that sent a shiver up her spine. “The same place that you came from…” His voice trailed off as he held his hand out to her. “Would you like to see?”

There was something about him. How she wanted to trust him, but every inch of her body told her to pick up her skirts and flee—get as far away from him as she could… for there was something wrong with him.

“Evelyn.”

The sound of her name on his lips made her take another step back, her eyes wide in fright. “How do you—“

“I know much more than just your name, my lady.” He bowed his head ever so slightly, his eyes begging her to take his hand and listen to what he had to say.

She did not doubt his words. She had caught glimpses of him throughout her life—always hidden in the shadows, always present, always unchanging.

As she thought back to his face throughout her life, she shivered, remembering her less than happy childhood. It had been filled with snide remarks, glares, rumors, and sadness. She was the Bastard Beauty. But that had been the kind name for her. In the darkness of the night, she would hear her father utter the cursed word “changeling.” And from the fear she spotted in the other villager’s eyes, that was what they really thought of her—not a bastard child but a monster from another world.

Another world.

Ever so slowly, she placed her hand in his and waited until his fingers wrapped tightly around hers. His smile widened as he turned to lead her deeper into the forest.

“Where exactly are we going?” she wondered curiously after a few minutes of silence.

“The place of your birth,” he said simply without turning around to look at her as if it was the most
obvious answer. He continued on before she could ask another question, “I was sent here eighteen years ago to watch over you and make sure that nothing happened to you.”

She bit her tongue. She had grown so tired of fighting with everyone in her life—she was no changeling; faeries were nothing more than old stories from a time before reason and logic. But the things this Korzaeleous knew about her, the fact that she knew she had seen him time and time again throughout her life, made her think that maybe—just maybe—there was some truth to the stories of the Old Ways.

Korzaeleous stopped in his determined march at the edge of a small clearing. The sun shone through the canopy of the forest, illuminating the grass of the forest floor. Evelyn gasped at the sight. At the center of the pool of sunlight was a perfect circle of mushrooms.

Tales from her childhood came back to her in an instant. “A faerie ring.”

Korzaeleous smiled at her.

Taking a step forward, he pulled her along behind him. “Are you ready?”

She wasn’t entirely sure what it was she was ready for, but looking back and forth between the fae and the ring, she slowly nodded her head.

Ushering her with his hand on the small of her back, he whispered smoothly, his eyes still locked on her face as if he was waiting for her to turn and run, “Ladies first.”

All her life she had been told to stay away from the rings—they were dangerous, portals to another world… the World of the Fae. But for the first time in her life, she did not fear the ring of mushrooms.

Looking back to the man one final time, she took a breath and stepped forward.

“Stop!”

Evelyn stumbled, caught around the waist by a man dressed all in white, a hood hiding his face.

“Let go of me!” she screamed, kicking her legs wildly like an animal caught in a trap.

As she looked around, she could see the forms of six other men dressed in white and Korzaeleous donned in black in the middle of the hoard.

With a swing of the sword tied to his waist, two of the men were down on the ground—their white garb suddenly covered in crimson blood. And within the blinking of her eyes, Evelyn was free of the man’s grip and running behind Korzaeleous through the forest, traveling deeper and deeper into the darkness.

“Who were those men?” she screamed out, her mind catching up with the moment and suddenly entering into a panic.

“Men from the Darren,” Korzaeleous growled as he paused to find his way. “They work for the Church and hunt down and destroy anything that has to do with our world.”

“What do you mean?” Evelyn was thankful for the chance to catch her breath.

Glancing over his shoulder, he looked down at her. “Magic.”

Evelyn lowered her eyes.

This morning she had been Evelyn Osmond. A normal girl living in a normal world, preparing to wed her normal fiancé. But the moment Korzaeleous kicked in her bedroom door and dragged her out to the forest, she realized that her life was now anything but normal. She knew that. He knew that. And it looked like these men—the Darren—knew it too.

Korzaeleous sighed, his hand still holding tightly to Evelyn’s in fear of losing her. “This might be a bit trickier than I thought.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Today's writing prompt was "place of birth." I've found that I've been drawing a lot more than writing here on this blog so I wanted to force myself to write something today (after all, there's only 43 days until NaNoWriMo!!).

This is a story that has been hidden in my head for about two years now. A young girl from the turn of the 20th century. A young fae who is ordered to protect her. A secret order whose only purpose is to destroy magic. Meet Evelyn and Korzaeleous.

I'm hoping to one day write this story out and explain why we no longer believe in magic in today's day and age. But for now, here is their first encounter with one another, the truth of Evelyn's identity, and the mysterious Darren.

a.r.w.