little-skittle-stuff

[little-skittle-stuff]

Have mercy

Work was currently the bane of Blake's existence. This was definitely a week that Murphy's law was dogging her every step. She had shipped out three commissioned pieces four days ago only to get messages from two of the clients saying they still had not received them. The real trouble was the tracking said otherwise. She tried to relax a little by starting the next piece, opening up her paint and setting them in a bowl. Unfortunately, her knuckle headed cat, Lucifer, thought it would be hilarious to knock the entire bowl from the counter. It had taken her almost two hours to get everything cleaned up and every ounce of self control not to lock him in the bathroom after that. She left the house to get more supplies only to literally watch a child slam a cart into her front fender, scratching it to high hell, then listened to the mother insist that the scratch had been there before then jump into her car and leave. Blake was convinced she had been a serial killer in her past life for the universe to come at her like this. With a deep breath, she turned and headed into the craft store.

Determined to turn her day around, she sent a silent prayer to any god that may be so benevolent to assist her. For now, she needed to focus on the task at hand. She was barely through the door when she heard someone call her name and her eyes fell closed for no other reason than to conceal the way they rolled. Pasting a smile on her face she spun around, "Jake, what a surprise seeing you here." The look on his face told her it wasn't a surprise at all and that sent a chill down her spine. "Yeah, weird, I didn't know you came here." She couldn't help the way her brow furrowed at the blatant lie. "You… didn't know that I got stuff from a craft store? For the art that I do? And for my volunteer work?" He looked like he was considering lying but must have read something in her face that made him think better of it. "Okay, you caught me, I've been frequenting here in the hope of running into you." She took an involuntary step back, but then adjusted the way she was standing to conceal her retreat, "Well, I really need to get going…" Her sentence trailed off as she began to turn but he reached out and took her arm in a grip tighter than strictly necessary. "Wait, we should talk, I miss you." She looked down at her arm, then back up at him, "Please let go of me." His hand loosened as soon as she met his gaze again, but he didn't let go until the employee walked over to see if everything was okay. "Jake, I really hope you find what you are looking for, but I'm not it." She set her basket back down and turned to the employee asking him to escort her back to her car.

Blake was sure, for as long as she lived, she would never forget the look on Jake's face when she asked the employee to walk her out. He had even turned to follow then until the employee let him know he was going to call the police if he didn't leave. If looks could kill, Blake would be at the weigh station. After leaving the craft store, not to mention without a single item she needed, she drove around for almost half an hour just to be sure no one was following her. She couldn't be exactly sure what it was but she had a feeling that she shouldn't go directly home and if there was one thing her mother had taught her it was to never ignore those feelings. The day had been a nightmare, just like the ex that she was trying to avoid at all costs.

[little-skittle-stuff]

Don’t do that to yourself

In the top drawer of Blake Quinn’s desk was a laptop that she didn’t use for her day job. A laptop that didn’t look like anything special on the outside. At a single glance it resembled a net book, small in size and easy to overlook. The small protective case was much the same. It looked like a thin shell that clipped over the outside, a layer to dampen the shock of an impact if dropped. What no one would know from a visual inspection was that the case was actually a very powerful magnet set to wipe the entire drive with only a short command. There were a lot of things that didn’t seem as they appeared in the young artist's life. 

Blake was doing a little monthly maintenance on her black-market site. Nothing too in depth, mostly she was checking her digital fences to make sure no one was snooping where they shouldn’t be. She made sure everything was still routing through a seemingly endless bounce around the globe and was looking through some of the transactions when a small window popped up in the corner. It was a notification that someone was trying to get a hold of her. Dragging the window across her screen, she watched the green cursor blink a few times before connecting to the chat. There weren’t many people that reached out to her, most sticking to the out of sight out of mind approach, so her interest was piqued. 

‘Hello Sentinel.’ Her fingers brushed lightly over the keys without actually typing anything. Her brows furrowed as she watched the solid green line blink in and out of existence just waiting for her to type something. After a few moments she put her hands back to the keyboard and responded in a similar fashion. ‘Hello Chronicle.’ After poking back and forth, Chronicle got to the point. ‘I need a favor but I need to know that I can trust you.’ That actually made Blake laugh before responding, ‘Why would you ever trust anyone?’

[little-skittle-stuff]

Alice: "How long is forever?"

White rabbit: "Sometimes just one second."

-Alice in wonderland

[little-skittle-stuff]

Find an escape

The sun was dancing through the window lighting up the dust motes floating through the air. Her eyes followed them, jumping from one to the next then the next, imaging that he could be small enough to do it herself. She pictured it like a video game, climbing higher and higher to some grand castle with a princess that needed saving. Taking a deep breath, she blew it out in a gust, sending the motes frantically swirling through space and taking the fantasy with it. As much as Blake wanted to be the one to save the day, today she couldn’t fathom being the hero. Unfortunately, no matter how hard she tried, she kept seeing herself as the princess locked away in the tower in desperate need of help.

Breathe. She had to remind herself from time to time. Breathe. The weight on her chest grew heavy making it a chore to make it from one moment to the next. She hated days like this. ‘Escape. Find an escape.’ She pulled her knees to her chest, like making herself smaller would make it easier for the universe to overlook her. A split second, the blink of an eye, the beat of a heart. That’s all she needed. For the pressure to dissipate for a fraction of a second, that’s all it would take for her to remember why it was so important to hold on.

The buzzing of her phone on the counter didn’t distract but rather added to the sensory overload. With her knees against her chest, she pressed her hands to her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. Find an escape. Find an escape. Adrian was always better at distracting the younger Quinn, but then again it was the absence of her sister that acted as the catalyst. Blake never suffered this way until the burden of her sister’s disappearance was added to the secrets she kept. It felt like too much. Not because she didn’t want to keep them, but because she didn’t have the one person that shouldered the weight of life.

[little-skittle-stuff]

Once upon a time

Blake rubbed her eyes as she leaned back in her overstuffed chair. She knew she should really get up and go upstairs to her comfortable bed, even made plans to do so as she kicked her legs over the arm and rested her head on the other. The book that was balanced on her stomach began to slide off but she managed to catch it before it tumbled to the floor. Lifting the tome, she opened it up and tried to keep reading. She had read this book more than a million times and this was one of her favorite parts. Favorite in the sense that it made her feel more than she ever thought a literary journey could. It made her feel like her heart was bleeding and the need to reach into the pages and hug the protagonist was overwhelming.

Her arms wrapped tightly around his slumped frame. She felt him tense first, that was the only warning she got before he was trying to pull away. Her arms tightened, her hands linking together to hold tightly to him even as he tried to shake her off. His movements grew desperate, pulling her off her feet as she clung to him. She could handle the rejection from him but somehow she knew that if she let go, she would be condemning him to a fate far worse. Somehow, she knew this was a pivotal moment that would define the direction his life would take.

A loud thud startled her awake. It took her a moment to gather her senses and piece together what had happened. A dream. It was all a dream. She sat up in her chair, finally resigned to heading to bed as her foot hit something on the floor. Drawing her knees up, she looked at the offending object only to realize that the thud had been her book hitting the ground. Picking up the bound adventure, she passed her hand over the cover, the raised letters of the title feeling soothing against her skin. She really needed to stop pushing her bedtime like a toddler.

[little-skittle-stuff]

A little rebel

Blake got out of her car and walked around to the back. The oversized bag sitting in the Jeep equivalent of a trunk was about half her height and almost three times wider. She had to resew the straps so the bag wouldn’t drag while it was on her shoulder. She didn’t know what kind of giants these were made for, but a five foot three small town artist did not seem to be their target audience. Hefting the bag up on her shoulder, she closed her car up and locked it. Turning toward the front of the school, she took a deep breath, set her smile and headed inside. 

Mrs. Ratchford’s first grade class was one of Blake’s favorites to volunteer at. It was in part because of the woman that was almost as excited about art as Blake was, but it was also largely about the kids. There was a particular child in her class this year that Blake always looked forward to working with; Andrew Vanderguard. He was shy and reserved, the first time she worked with him he wouldn’t even make eye contact. His reservations were not isolated to adults or strangers, but the other children as well. Art made the little boy come alive and when the other children saw what he created, it seemed to work as a bridge between the small humans. 

Walking around the room, Blake was handing out canvas’ and brushes to children, making sure everyone had supplies. “How is my rebellious little artist today?” Andrew looked up at her, his smile shining like she had never seen. “I am going to make the best bird today, Miss Blake.” She laughed softly and crouched down next to the child. “I think that sounds absolutely amazing, Andrew. I can’t wait to see it.”

[little-skittle-stuff]

Ace in the hole

The world was like a spiderweb, every string attached to a different person, a different soul, a different life. No one human was privy to the workings of the web as a whole, most unaware of the links that connected them. There were a few people that could see the connections near them although they were unable to do anything other than observe. Spectators in a life that they cannot manipulate or control. There were some really clever people that could move and maneuver their string but only at great sacrifice in some other part of their life. Even more rare than those are the people that were able to pluck the strings and watch those around them dance. 

Blake didn’t like to think about the web, mostly because she had plucked the web more times than she could even admit to herself. Manipulation had never been a comfortable part of her life, only a necessary one. The first big secret she started keeping from the people she loved gave her a freedom that she only saw on cinematic adventures. For the first time in her life, the power she had online made her larger than life. In the black market bazaar she was a god granting wishes to anyone that had the right tribute to pay. The only reason that worked was because she spent a year building up her name and reputation. 

Secrets were heavy like a weight on her chest, a looming threat always over her head if anyone ever found out. On the same note, against those left in the dark about the truth, that same secret was also an ace up her sleeve. The perfect example was when Adrian showed up at her home that dark night over a year ago. Terrified and with nowhere else to turn, Adrian had come to Blake out of habit and was surprised that her younger sister had actually been able to help her. Whoever was stalking her sister didn’t count on her having other options than walking into a trap. It was the secret Blake kept, the money she made from it, that enabled her to spirit Aid away.

[little-skittle-stuff]

Darkness falls

WIth her feet against the seat of the bench, Blake leaned back and used her knees as a table for her notebook. She spent the better part of the morning at the elementary school with Mrs. Ratchford’s first grade class. She had a few pages due in two days, but she never could pass up the opportunity to work with the tiny humans. It was like recharging her batteries, preparing her to face life. It significantly cut into the time she needed to put out her best work but the trade off seemed worth it. Energized and ready to illustrate the journey of Tamlin, the periwinkle rhino, but first she needed to map out her thoughts.

Working through the fourth page, Blake was lost in her own little world. It was actually more accurate to say that Blake was lost in Tamlin’s world but the math came out the same. She crosshatched the undercarriage of the cartoon animal when a shadow fell across her face. Looking up, she squinted against the bright sunshine that outlined the figure hovering over her. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust as she set her feet back on the ground, her hands clutching the book before it could crash to the ground. When she recognized the face above her she wished she had been paying more attention.

Henry Tarron towered over her with a smile that sent a chill down her spine. Not even the warm southern sun could chase that away. “Miss Quinn, it’s so nice to see you out here.” His eyes dropped to her notebook and she had to fight the urge to close it in an unnecessary attempt to protect Tamlin. She forced a smile and hoped that it looked natural, “Hello Mr. Tarron, it seemed like too nice of a day to spend it inside.” He nodded before taking a seat beside her and somehow that action unsettled her more than the first. “You are right about that, Miss Quinn, maybe I’ll join you for a while.” Turning the page in her book, she put the graphite filled tube back to the parchment, she had to stay at least for a short time before making her escape from a man that gave her the creeps.

[little-skittle-stuff]

I’m falling apart

After taking a deep breath, Blake reached for the door handle again. She knew why she was so hesitant today, but she needed to shake that before facing the people beyond. Her hand touched the cold metal of the knob and she froze again. Get it together, Blake! If she couldn’t act completely normal it wouldn’t seem too far off base, but she needed to make sure she hid a few key emotions. Guilt being the biggest one. She should look sad and nervous, but she wasn’t just heartbroken and she feared that would show.

“Adrian?” She snatched her hand back as if the door bit her, the barrier disappeared as her mother’s face filled the newly open space. There had been so much hope in her voice that the guilt that Blake felt intensified. “Honey, what are you doing out…” Her voice trailed off as understanding lit her face. “Oh honey,” her mother wrapped her up in a hug, pulling her into the house. It was one of those magical hugs that only parents could give. The kind that seemed to wrap your entire soul in a blanket that would keep you safe and warm from any dangers the world had in store. 

Blake wasn’t sure when she started crying as her mother’s hand rubbed her back. She remained oblivious to the trail of tears until her father’s arms wrapped around her and he started whispering to her like he had when she was a little girl. It was enough to pull herself together even if just barely. She had never lived without her sister and even though she knew Adrian was safe it didn’t dull the sting of her absence. She wiped at her face and leaned against her fathers towering frame. “I’m sorry, I don’t, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Her words sounded false to her own ears but her parents didn’t call her out on it.

[little-skittle-stuff]

My heart is happy

“I promise I am being safe, Mom.” Blake sat in the airport by her terminal as she waited for the plane to deboard. She promised her mother that she would check in before she got on the plane and again when she landed. It sounded a little funny to a random passerby seeing that Blake was a full grown woman, but her parents had been through enough. Correction, Blake had put them through enough. Still was if she was being honest. If it made her mother feel better for her to check in, then that’s what she would do. “Okay, Mom. We’re getting ready to board, I’ll message you as soon as I land. I love you, tell dad I love him too!” 

The flight was riddled with turbulence and it would be quite the understatement to say she was glad it was over. Blake floated the story that she was making a trip ‘across the pond’ to meet with a new publishing house. It was not a lie, so to speak, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. She didn’t want to get stuck on the phone while trying to pick up the rental, so she sent her mother a text along with a photo to prove that she was alive and safe, then headed for the rental desk. Dublin was not what she expected, but it was definitely not a disappointment. Tucking her book into the pocket of her raincoat, Blake let herself people watch as she waited. 

Driving on the left side of the road was a little disorienting but she caught on quickly. She really wished that she could have been a passenger so she could look at everything, but there would be time for that. Her phone began ringing but she ignored it. She didn’t think that driving and blindly searching for her phone would lead to anything good for her. She heard ringing again, but this time it was coming from her tablet and her face lit up. Grateful that it was sitting on top of her bag, Blake grabbed it and answered the alert while keeping her eyes on the road. “Little Skittle!!!” Her sister’s voice bounced around the cabin of her car causing her to laugh. “Aid, I’m like.. Ten minutes away!”

[little-skittle-stuff]

[little-skittle-stuff]

I’m only happy when it rains

Getting home before the sky opened up was Blake’s original goal. She absolutely loved the rain, but driving in it with people that liked to slam on their brakes was not her idea of fun. She never understood that, why would anyone slam on their brakes as soon as they got to the rain? That was a good way to make sure you hydroplaned or at the very least caused an accident. Add that to the list of things that didn’t make sense and never would. Her hopes were dashed when she was still about a mile away, adding that to her imaginary list of goals that she failed to meet. 

Blake pulled up as close to her door as possible, leaving only a space of about ten yards between her car and her home. The rain was coming down so hard that she couldn’t even make out the details of her house, even at such close proximity. Pulling her feet up onto the seat, she tucked them under her. Maybe she would wait until it lightened up a bit. She rested her head against the cold window and pulled out her phone, opening up the reader program on her phone. There was a book that had just come out this morning and she was chomping at the bit to read it. The sound of the rain was relentless against the body of her car and she realized that it was going to be too cold to wait it out. It was now or never.

Leaving most of her belongings in the car, she tucked her phone into her pocket and got her key ready to shove in the door. It couldn’t have taken more than fifteen running steps to get her to the door, a total of less than twenty seconds until she was dripping on her living room floor. Less than twenty seconds and she looked like someone had pushed her into a pool. Despite the mess she was making, she couldn’t help the smile that was plastered across her face or the laughter that bubbled up from inside her. She peeled out of her sopping wet clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. She could clean it up after a nice hot bath.

[little-skittle-stuff]

One. Little. Lie.

The one thing Blake loved about the dead of winter was the way the night air felt like a physical touch against her skin. It wasn’t a soft, loving caress like the summer wind but rather a harsh scrub of a reminder that the world could be as harsh as it was beautiful. On a rare night, like tonight just so happened to be, the cold descended from a cloudless sky. The stars looked like tiny diamonds scattered across oblivion. Nights like tonight she loved that she lived a short distance from the main city. Less light pollution let her see more of the fiery balls of gas that lived and died millions and billions and trillions of miles away. Standing out on the balcony of her second story, she let her eyes wash out over the water and savor the way the stars seemed to melt into the water’s surface. 

Blake tried to find her center, tried to quiet the noise inside her but was unable to accomplish the task. Inside the head and heart of Blake Quinn, chaos reigned. She turned away from the banister and headed back inside, shedding the soft blanket that was wrapped around her form. Her feet carried her over to the closet where she donned her favorite hoodie and then put a thick winter jacket over it for good measure. She had not made a conscious decision to leave her Northwood Lake home and was already halfway out into the mountains before she realized she was searching for a wide open plain, or some sort of fortress of solitude. 

It was of no surprise to her when she found herself laying on the wild grass of a tall mountain side. This deep into the winter, the world was void of all the small sounds like the chirping of crickets or buzzing of nocturnal insects. The weight of the silence settled over her like a blanket and she suddenly missed the chaos she had efficiently outrun. Now, with the world lingering beyond her toes, she only had the sad truth of life to tighten around herself. Not like a blanket but more like a noose. Secrets rested heavier than any silence and Blake’s were numerous. 

The moment you’re born your parents shower you in love. Your family and teachers spend every day drilling a single lesson into you. You can be anything you want to be. It’s the first lie you’re fed, the length of rope you’re given to start the hangman's noose. They tell you to dream big, to be yourself no matter who that might be, they tell you to reach for the stars. They never once warned you that in the world they brought you into, you’d have to choose. You would have to cut your wings off to traverse the land of the living. They built you up only to force you to cut yourself down. That was the lesson that would harden your heart. Only a little at first, but the small stone section would grow and spread, turning you into a monster with a pretty human shell. There was only one way to save yourself and that was something Blake was still working on; forgiveness. Not just for the well meaning perpetrators of the lie, but for yourself too, for believing the lie. 

[little-skittle-stuff]

Blake2021 point ohhh

1.) What advice would you like to give yourself as you begin the New Year?

Remember that nothing is permanent, this too shall pass.

2.) What would you most like to change about yourself?

My inability to ask for help, even when I need it.

3.) What brings you the most joy and how are you going to do more of that?

Drawing, but I think the whole ‘every free second’ schedule I’m on is good xD

4.) What is one change you could make that would give you more peace?

Figuring out how to take care of question number two.

5.) What important relationship would you like to improve the most this year?

The relationship with my parents, it isn’t bad, but there are parts of my life they have been shielded from.

6.) How can you deeply improve your relationship with yourself this year?

By reminding myself that needing help doesn’t mean I failed.

7.) Who are three people you would like to spend more time with?

Adrian Quinn, Sidney Tell, Ryker Anders

8.) Is there any relationship in your life that would benefit from forgiveness?

I think all relationships would.

9.) If you had one more hour during the day, what would you do with it? 

Paint.

10.) What’s one way you could have more fun in your life?

Get a Hydroflight to use in the lake :D

11.) Where would you like to go on vacation this year?

Any beach ever!

12.) Is there something you've been meaning to get closure about that you haven't?

I have some unanswered questions that I decided I am not holding on to anymore. It makes for a happier Blake.

13.) What can you never seem to find the time to do?

Workout xD

14.) What time-waster are you willing to let go of?

Binge watching everything Netflix has to offer.

15.) What activities would you like to add to your routine to help you manage your stress this year?

Star gazing 

[little-skittle-stuff]

Blake’s Headphones

oo1. Get Up - Shinedown

oo2. I’m Bad At Life - Falling In Reverse

oo3. Stuck In Your Head - I Prevail

oo4. The Fastest Way To A Girl’s Heart Is Through Her Ribcage - Ice Nine Kills

oo5. Salem - Nothing More

oo6. Alone In A Room - Asking Alexandria

oo7. Throne - Bring Me The Horizon

oo8. Uma Thurman - Fall Out Boy

oo9. Dak’s Back - The Buttertones

o1o. Drag The Lake - The Amity Affliction

[little-skittle-stuff]

Fear is powerful

Blake Tatum Quinn was a great and many things. Most she advertised, but there was also a side to her that no one got to see, a side that was hidden from the real world. She had started working through digital programming when she was twelve, picking up tricks and learning the inner workings of the interwebs. At fifteen she was picking up work after school helping smaller mom and pop shops set up a web presence and at sixteen she stopped advertising anything computer based at all. She told her client list at the time that she no longer had the ability to keep up with school and her extracurriculars but the truth was much more sinister. Maybe sinister was a slight over exaggeration, but it was a fair estimation. 

Sentinel, the admin of a black market bazaar, was the person to seek out when someone was looking for rare and valuable artwork and antiquities. The online presence was known to be able to get almost anything inanimate a person could desire from ancient vases to rare postage stamps, but that wasn't why this particular individual was so well known or why the name Sentinel made hackers reconsider before reaching out. When the name Sentinel was whispered it struck fear in anyone within earshot. There had yet to be a single firewall or blockage that Sentinel couldn't hack, patch or obliterate. This person was so good that they could get behind a firewall, extract information and get back out without anyone even knowing something was amiss. It just so happened, sweet, unassuming Blake Quinn from Hartsville, South Carolina was such a person. 

Two sides to the same coin. The face she showed the world was caring and happy, volunteering at elementary schools and children's wards in the hospital. She illustrated children's books for a living and sold art on the side. Quick to smile and even faster to lend a helping hand, there wasn't much that could get under her skin. Her approach to life was usually similar, laugh off what you could and heal from what you couldn't. She refused to back down when it came to the people she cared about, and loved fiercely. Most people overlooked her and her cookie addiction, relying on her when they needed something and happy to forget she existed when they didn't. It didn't bother her any, in fact, it made life easier for her.

[little-skittle-stuff]

A single photo...

Blake’s eyes scanned the screen in front of her, the electronic device seemed to be mocking her. She had been working on the same page for over thirteen hours, scrapping the entire thing for the seventh time. She drew in a deep breath, holding it as she tried to focus on anything but the work she was failing to finish. Why was this last page giving her so much trouble? No matter how she drew out the gathering of animals, it just didn’t feel final. In a story where the animals gathered to forgive the elephant for breaking all their things, you would think Blake could come up with something. Pulling her sweater tightly around her, she stood up and walked away from the table. Maybe if she could put a little space between herself and the workspace inspiration would strike. 

Shuffling down the stairs, Blake pulled the hood to her sweater over her hair, tucking the brown locks beneath the fabric as she walked into the kitchen. “Something warm, something warm, something warm.” She made a clicking noise with her mouth as she opened and closed a few cabinets. She was not sure what she wanted and ended up settling on making some tea. Putting the kettle over the fire, she turned and picked up the pile of mail that was sitting on the counter. She really needed to get better about going through her mail daily instead of once every few weeks. The actual chances of that happening were less than likely.

“Junk, junk…” Blake was tossing the advertisements and credit card offers into a pile to recycle or shred when she came across an envelope that stood out. There was no return address, but that wasn’t even the weird part. The only thing that decorated the thick parchment was her name written in elegant font. Not even her address was on it though it was clear whoever sent it to her knew where she lived. The only way it could have gotten into her mailbox was if it was hand delivered. Turning it over, she slipped her finger under the flap, watching as it sprung open with very little resistance. Her excited curiosity evaporated away the moment she pulled the single item from inside. 

The inside of the envelope was lined in a deep purple which only made the single photograph it contained stand out. She dropped the whole thing to the counter top, the tremor running through her hand refusing to cease. Her brown hues were glued to the face staring back at her, a face that she knew better than her own. Adrian was standing in her apartment, her eyes, while hardly visible, were sure to be filled with terror to match the contorted expression on her face. Blake didn’t need to see anything else to know when this photo was taken. Not only when, but by who...