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mycharmingcharade · 9 years ago

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Underwater, A Short Story

Pond water was the most disgusting form of water that existed. It lacked the beauty of oceanic water, which was full of life. By the ocean, the water breathed in and off the shore with each wave, sometimes coming in closer, sometimes moving out farther. The ocean’s expansion around the world was grander than anything the human mind could understand. To the human eye, there was always a point where it would just end, touching the horizon. A pond, on the other hand, was enclosed. It was often dirty and dark, stifling in the way that the water just sits there, waiting, praying for a breeze. Or maybe the daring human to walk amidst it, causing short ripples with a walk along the water.

I found myself face-down in a pond, floating. It took me a moment to realize that I wasn’t moving -- of course, just floating, did I expect the pond to bring me back to shore? I flopped over onto my back, disturbing my balance and thus falling underwater. Even opening my eyes underwater didn’t bother me--the murkiness wasn’t frightening and the muck didn’t burn my eyes.

I made my way back to shore, spitting a mouthful of pond water out at my friend. “I… think I really am dead.”

“What was your first clue?” Dia sighed, having dodged most of my attack. “You realize you were floating face-down for half an hour now, right? If you hadn’t already died, April, you would have by now. Maybe five times over.”

“I don’t think I have any perception of time anymore, either,” I sat next to her, wringing my hair out as best I could, sprinkling any excess in her direction. “It didn’t feel like I was out there for that long.”

“Ugh! Stop trying to get me wet! You’re lucky that you don’t smell like a wet dog right now. Maybe you should check for leeches.” Dia rolled her eyes, playing with her hair. I watched her play with her hair, instead of look at me. Pointedly avoiding my gaze.

I curled my knees up to lay my head between my knees. Even though my clothes stuck to my skin, heavy with water, I wasn’t uncomfortable and I wasn’t cold. There was no difference if the weight of my head was on my knees or not. I couldn’t feel anything. Except, of course, the fact that Dia wouldn’t look at me right now.

“...I should get back to my apartment, I think. Are you…” Dia sighed, looking over at me. “What are you going to do, April?”

“Freeze to death,” I said, letting out a single breathy “ha.” Dia offered a half-smile, but her heart wasn’t in it and I knew it. “Just go home, Dia. I… don’t know what I was expecting today. Something different, I guess.”

“I have work tomorrow. But you can come to my place in the evening okay? ...If you aren’t there by ten, then I’ll meet you here again, okay? I’ll just assume that… your reach doesn’t extend to my place.” She stood up, blazing red hair flowing in the wind as she started to walk, though she didn’t get far before stopping and looking back at me.

I waved.

She left, head down.

“Okay, April,” I stood up as well once Dia was out of distance, spreading my arms out wide. “You have no idea how many people can see you, or hear you, and you really have no place to go for the night! So, you might as well go home until you can see Dia tomorrow. That seems like the best course of action right now.” I nodded, agreeing with myself wholeheartedly.

The walk to my house from the pond was normally about twenty minutes--when I was alive. But… I wasn’t alive anymore, and I had no idea how long it took me to get to my house. One moment I was at the pond, and the next I was standing in front of the driveway. Did I put on autopilot somehow? Or did wishing to be someplace become enough to get me to that place? I told myself that I would pay attention next time I had to walk any sort of distance.

But then I was inside of my house, not remembering how I got there, or ever turning the doorknob. Was I able to touch anything, or did could I phase through walls? These were important questions that nobody was answering! Who knows how long I had been pulling at my hair until I let my hands drop to my side. There was no pain, but also no strands of hair in my fists, either. How was I supposed to be careful if I couldn’t feel anything? How careful did I need to be since I’m dead?

The house was unusually silent. There was no television playing, no radio, no talking. It didn’t even sound as if any of the electronics were on. I searched around the ground floor for mom or dad, but didn’t see either of them. Of course I didn’t remember my walk through the driveway, so I didn’t know if they were even home or not.

“Mom? Dad?” I called out, not knowing if they would hear me even if they were home. Something about hearing my own voice comforted me, reminded me that I’m still here. Kind of. I could no longer pinch myself to wake up from a dream, but talking had the same effect--it was the only thing that felt familiar. Standing in my own bedroom didn’t rustle any feelings from inside of me. I might as well have been standing in a stranger’s room, a stranger’s house, even though everything was where I had last left it.

Walking over to my bed, I tried to lay down. There was no push back from the bed, there was no creaking from my bed’s tired springs. Rolling onto my side to get comfortable, there wasn’t even an indentation made on my comforter. Trying to grab at the edges of my blankets proved fruitless as well, because no matter how hard I tried to wrap my fingers around it, they simply went through. No matter how close my hand seemed to look compared to my bed, there was some unexplainable distance between the two.

...Of course, it wasn’t really unexplainable. I was dead and this bed was made by living people for the living. And I knew that. I knew that. I’m dead. I died.

“...So what am I supposed to do now?” I asked to my pillow, used-to-be-my pillow. Was I supposed to be here forever? How long was forever? Where was that eternal happiness and peace that I was promised after death?

I waited.

Not for answers that I knew would never come, but I waited for night, for morning, and for night again. I thought that at some point my parents would return and break this ungodly silence that overwhelmed my ears but that relief never came. Where were they? What happened to them?

I was restless at night. I couldn’t stay on my bed, as much as I wanted to. I wandered around my home, but it was senseless and exhausting. Or it would have been. How I got from one room to the next didn’t make any sense. It seemed that all I had to do was think about a section of the house for me to actually get there. Sometimes my eyes actually caught how I got to the room--through walls and doors mainly, as if they didn’t exist at all--but most of the time my brain didn’t even seem to process the how and just focused on the where. Once I was in the room I wanted to be in, I didn’t actually do anything because there was nothing I could do. Everything I tried to touch would slip through my hands, which was frustrating in myself. I ended up just staring--there, the clock glowed 2:48 in a neon green; there, piles of books my dad was reading as he went back to school--a sort of sad reminiscing of something that felt long gone.

The house felt empty even with me in it, and I wondered if mom and dad had left it to rot. Already?

I was thankful for the sunshine because it meant that I was that much closer to being able to see Dia. I was thankful for the sunshine because all of a sudden, my restlessness evaporated. Despite lacking the need to breathe, I let out a sigh as if I had been holding my breath all night. With that released from my system, my eyesight began to grow fuzzy. Although I tried to touch my face--I’m not sure what that would have done, but it’s what my reflex told me to do--I didn’t feel anything. I couldn’t see if my hands were in front of my eyes or by the side of my head.

When my vision returned, the sun was setting. I was standing in the same spot that I had been this morning. The only reason I knew time had passed was because from where I was standing I could see out a window and see how the sun had changed position.

“Dia,” I choked out, feeling as if I hadn’t used my vocal chords in ages as my voice came out breathy and hoarse. Her face in my mind was indistinct, like a faded memory: she had white skin and red hair, but the features that made her special, the features that made her Dia, and not like every other white girl with red hair were blurred beyond recognition.

I didn’t see the houses or the streets as they passed by, and I still didn’t know if I needed to walk like an ordinary person. A living person. Even in the dark, though, I could recognize the familiar walls around me. Over the years I had spent days hanging out in this room, nights sleeping over.

The moonlight shone through the window, lighting up Dia’s sleeping face. Even from this distance, she was so beautiful.

So real.

Kneeling down beside her bed so that my face was level with hers, I reached out my hand to brush her cheek. Where once it might have been a warm gesture to feel her skin against my own, there was no reassuring warmth. My fingers passed through her skin in a way that frightened me--a way that would have made me squeamish, if I was still capable of feeling a physical reaction like that.

But I wasn’t, and Dia was. Her cheek covered with goosebumps, a section of her face turning red from where I had touched. An adverse reaction if I ever saw one.

“Dia?” I whispered, wondering if she could hear me at all. “Dia, wake up, please. I’m sorry… I’m a little late.” I tried focusing energy to be able to touch her so that she could feel me, so that maybe I could rouse her awake, but there was still no reaction except Dia shivering in her sleep. “Please,” I begged, hearing and hating as my voice just tipped over the edge into whining, “Wake up and talk to me. You don’t know what I’ve been feeling this past day… I really need to talk to you…” If I could have cried, I’m sure I would have. As it were, it was an impossibility for me to release the feelings that were pent up inside of me.

But even if I wasn’t real, that didn’t mean my feelings weren’t real. “All I have is you, Dia,” I gasped, standing up and backing away slowly from her bedside. It was frightening realizing that I was dead, actually dead, and could no longer walk beside you like I wanted to. Not in the same way, anyway. I was drowning in fear and sadness that nobody could make go away, that nobody could console out of me. How long will I feel like this, Dia? It’s suffocating, you know, being stuck with yourself and your thoughts and your emotions and it’s only just you with no sense of time and so one minute feels like forever and in that forever you are suffocating. I’m suffocating.

“Don’t you hear me?! Can’t you see me?!” I screeched, flinging my arms wide. As I did, a lamp on one of her bedside tables flickered on before being flung across the room, ripped out from the wall socket with a few sparks flying behind it.

The crash against the wall, of course, made Dia spring out of bed, eyes wide. While she walked over to turn the lights on, I did my best to stand in front of her, waving my arms, dancing around in my spot trying to get her to notice me.

She walked right through me and stopped where she stood. For a moment I thought, maybe she would see me, maybe she felt me, but the hope was too good to last. Dia ignored the light switch and opted for her closet, where she grabbed a sweatshirt to cover up with, shaking as she did so. Before going back to bed she picked up the shattered remains of her lamp and moved them aside until she could focus on it in the morning.

Not wanting her to go to bed without realizing I was here, I made one last attempt to reach her. I made as if to grab her by the shoulders, and for the most part I ended up passing straight through her, but Dia was knocked a little off kilter so I must have made some sort of contact with her, even though I hadn’t felt anything.

With paling face, Dia turned to face my direction. But I knew she couldn’t see me with the way her eyes didn’t focus on any one spot, just flickering at the general airspace that I may have been. “...April?” She whispered, as if I was something to keep secret, as if I was something to be afraid of.

“I’m here,” I whispered back, even though I knew she wouldn’t be able to hear me. Making myself to her bed, I sat on the very edge farthest from the head. There was suddenly a heaviness weighing over me that I could not sleep off and that I could not escape.

“...I’m sorry, April,” Dia whispered, making her way back to her bed as well. While she tucked herself under her blankets, the two of us faced each other, even without Dia’s knowing. “If you’re lonely you can spend the night here, okay? You can stay here for as long as you want.”

I knew that should have made me happy, but there was a dark cloud that clung to me. No--it didn’t just cling to me, it grew from within me, spreading its tendrils out so that even Dia was overwhelmed by it, suffocated by it. Although I knew her words were genuine, there was nothing she could do anymore to help me. There was nothing anyone could to do to help.

“I want you to be at peace, April,” Dia pleaded, her voice barely a whisper but still managing to pierce whatever was left of my heart. “I don’t want you to suffer anymore, so please….” But she didn’t finish her sentence. Her voice trailed off and she laid down for bed.

#underwater #short story #romance #ghosts

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mycharmingcharade · 9 years ago

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An excerpt. All inspiration for this novel can be found under “romo novel” on my main blog.

Chapter One

Translucency was the property of being clear but still solid, still having a sense of self. Transparency meant that there was an outline that could be seen of one object, while the full picture of another object could be seen through it. Either of these would have been better than what she was. She was entirely invisible. Despite having been born and raised in the same small suburban town for twenty years, having gone to school and being surrounded by the same hundred students, she couldn’t say that anyone really knew her. She had tried her best to reach out and make contact, but nothing ever stuck. By the time of her graduation, she was sure she had more fingers than there were people in her class that knew her name, let alone anything substantial about her.

Sometimes she wondered if there was any substance to her, though. If someone asked her how she passed her time, she wouldn’t be able to give a solid answer. Most of the time, it felt as though all she did was sit in her bed staring at one wall or the other--if she wanted to switch it up, she stared at the ceiling. To amuse herself, she imagined what the cracks on the walls most looked like. If that wasn’t enough entertainment, sometimes she made herself completely invisible.

“Sabrina!” Her mother called from the floor below. “Where is that girl when…” Her voice trailed off while the voices of other members of the household drowned her out.

Hauling herself out of bed, Sabrina made her way downstairs to where her mother had called her. Or kind of. Either way, she would end up doing something for mere convenience, rather than purpose.

“You… rang?” Sabrina asked once she entered the living room where her mother whirled past her. She only moved her eyes to follow her mother around the ground floor, wondering whether or not she would realize that Sabrina had responded to her off-hand call.

Instead of answering, her mother returned to the kitchen, where Sabrina watched her back as she stirred a giant pot. Whatever was in it would presumably be her dinner. She called out to her mother once more, with a little more confidence, but it might as well have gone through one ear and out the other. If it even reached her ears at all.

“Mom’s making dinner.” Junior called from the couch. He was playing a game on his phone and wasn’t looking at Sabrina as he spoke to her.

“That’s great,” she muttered. “Mom just called me down for nothing, I guess?”

“Did she call your name? I didn’t hear her.”

Despite Junior being five years younger than her, his comment still bothered her. It very well could have been totally innocent, him being too consumed by his game to recognize anything around him. Or, which seemed more likely to her, he was pulling her leg to be the obnoxious little brother that he was.

“Where is everyone else?” I asked Junior, ignoring his comment outwardly. Despite mother working on dinner, there still might be time to go for a walk.

“Dad’s working in his office. Talia’s at work. Miranda… is being Miranda… somewhere…” Junior’s response was stagnated, talking to Sabrina in segments only when he could afford his attention on her and not his game. It also wasn’t a terribly useful answer, but Sabrina wasn’t exactly sure what she was expecting out of him. She was bothering him, he didn’t owe her anything better than that.

So, she exited the house.

When she was bored, as she was now, she headed to the coffee house that was just down the street. It was a popular place she had gone to throughout her high school years. Or, it was a popular place for her fellow high school classmates and she just happened to hang out with them in the same airspace at the same time. By mistake. Or by coincidence.

It was an ordinary enough little place for locals to enjoy average-priced and average-tasting coffee and maybe a small pastry if it so tickled their fancy. There was a counter that held a few of the daily pastries, and there were only two or three tables--sometimes pushed together depending on who got there first and how big their party was--with three or four or five seats. Then, by the windows, there were also two or three seats for people who didn’t have a large group of friends to sit with could take a breather.

Someone like Sabrina would belong there at a lonely single seat by the window, staring at the street and watching nothing. The street wasn’t a horribly busy one even during rush hour but at this time in the evening, it was even deader. The street lights were flickering on slowly as the sun began to fall away from sight. Sabrina knew that the cafe would be closing soon, so she didn’t stick around.

She never did.

When her latte was handed to her over the counter, she left the cafe without so much as looking at the other customers and without the server having even needed to ask her what her name was. Instead of heading straight home, she sat down on the strip of grass to the side of the cafe. Sabrina took a sip of her more-sugar-and-milk-than-coffee latte, watching as the shadows on the street in front of her grew longer, the sun disappearing slowly but surely.

As she took a sip of her coffee, Sabrina cocked her head slightly so that she was able to see herself in the side window of the cafe. It was a faded version of her--if she focused, she could see the interior and the workers within rather than her own appearance. Instead, she watched herself: there wasn’t much of a breeze, so her hair remained in place just above her shoulders. She was pale naturally, everything about her was light, so the windows just washed her out. From this distance, she couldn’t see the freckles that smattered her face and nose.

In less than a minute, she couldn’t see any of her reflection at all.

Sabrina took another sip from her latte. As she lifted the cup to her mouth, she knew where her hand and arm should be, and she knew that it was moving--she was telling it to move and could imagine it before her eyes.

But there was nothing to see except the coffee cup, with its green paper cup and white plastic lid.

She closed her eyes and concentrated so that when she opened them again, even the coffee was gone.

This had become something she had started doing increasingly more often. Even Sabrina had do no idea why she was able to turn herself invisible, and it was only recently that she realized that she could. Now, she abused that power by doing it whenever she could outside the borders of her house. Very rarely did she use it while at home, unless her parents didn’t realize she was at home to begin with.

The world didn’t recognize that she existed, so she made it so she basically didn’t.

Her senior year of high school was spent remaining in class long enough for the teacher to mark her present, and then she made it so that the entirety of the classroom could not see her, could not bother her. She didn’t go anywhere, she remained in the classroom--maybe there would be a partner or group project that required her attention. But there were times where even then, she didn’t end up presenting, didn’t pass in a group project, but still got full credit for it. Sabrina wasn’t exactly sure how it happened--average enough of a student in terms of attendance and grades where maybe the teacher just assumed she did it, even if they couldn’t actually remember the specifics of her project--but it made her final year much easier. Even if it meant she was a little lonelier.

After three--nineteen?--years of loneliness, aloneness, she was just happy to not have to stress about loneliness, aloneness. If nobody could see her, then she didn’t have to wonder why they didn’t acknowledge her. There wasn’t any crazy adventures she had gone on ever since she realized she had the ability to turn invisible--what was the point of going on an adventure if you couldn’t share it with someone? And she had no one--instead, she just spent her average days doing average things… without being watched.

Without being seen.

Well… once, she had gone back for a second dessert during her senior year. That was back when she didn’t realize she could turn other things invisible as well. That was also the only time she had ever stolen anything while using her ability. She compensated through her tip the next time she bought a treat. It had been far more easier than she had realized--it was like flicking a switch. There was a bit of concentration required, but once that something else had turned invisible, it didn’t require any special attention. And then, just like with herself, once she wanted to be seen again, she just was. Simple as that.

And it didn’t bother her that it was as easy as that. There were days where she wondered why she suddenly had this ability, wondered if she had it all this time and never realized, wondered whether she was using her ability properly. What were the rules behind having the power to turn invisible at a whim? Was she supposed to alert her family, the authorities? She didn’t feel like turning into the neighborhood vigilante, nor did she want to turn into the neighborhood thief. There was no rule book on this, so she decided to keep it silent, just as she so often kept silent.

She walked in the middle of the street while on her way home. As she did, she quickly became visible. Sometimes she tried to see whether or not her head first turned visible, or her shoes--but it wasn’t like that. One moment she was there, and another moment she wasn’t. Just like that, as fast and as casual as a blink.

When she entered her house, one amongst many settled close to each other right next to the center of town, the warm smell of freshly cooked dinner hit her instantly. It smelled like homemade mashed potatoes, so there was also probably some sort of meat with it. A stereotypical Irish dinner if there ever was one. After tossing away her coffee cup, she sat down at the dinner table.

All five of the other members of her family had started eating already. They were talking amongst each other, and did not so much as look up at Sabrina when she sat down with them, let alone verbally acknowledge her.

Sabrina was a fast eater. There was no rush because she never had anything pressing to do, anywhere to go, anyone to feel, yet there was always a knot in her stomach that formed. That knot made it hard for her to want to sit still for too long at a place that she did not feel wanted. She never felt wanted at many places.

“How was your day, Miranda? Were you with Amy today?” Diana Dunn, the lucky mother of these four children, asked after an awkward break in conversation. Mrs. Dunn looked remarkably like most of her children, save for Sabrina. They all had the same straight blonde hair and were all above-average in terms of height.

“Yeah, we decided to get together again before school starts,” Miranda nodded while twirling her potatoes, turning them from mashed to mushed. Despite going into her final year of high school, Miranda was starting to be scouted by modeling agencies. Sabrina wasn’t sure why her mother ever bothered with putting the same amount on her plate as the rest of the family--she very rarely ate any carbs and only ate half of whatever else she was given. It caused a pit in Sabrina’s stomach to look at Miranda. In terms of age, they were the two closest siblings, but they could not be more opposite. She was tall for a girl, being nearly five-foot-nine, with the long flowing hair that people only ever saw in commercials. Decent enough at academics and with capable social skills, Miranda actually enjoyed going to school and often had plans on the weekends.

“You still have two weeks before the new year starts. Are you trying to tell me you have no plans on seeing her anytime between now and then?” Talia asked, a playful sneer on her face. It was easy to see how she was the oldest Dunn sibling, excluding the fact that she was the only one with a paying job. Her voice was a little deeper and far more steadier, giving off an air of confidence. Instead of short skirts or ripped jeans, she was often sporting a clean work suit of some kind, or otherwise a neat blouse and jacket. Sabrina wasn’t exactly what type of work she did--an accountant or office worker for some company or other--but it was the type of job that made her seem like a real adult. Her mom and dad didn’t have to worry about Talia because she had a set schedule for how her weeks went and for when she received her paycheck. It was only for reasons like this that the Dunn’s did not ever feel the need to mention to Talia about moving out since she was now twenty-three, almost twenty-four.

“Well, I mean, I probably will, but…” Miranda trailed off and shrugged, offering a stunning smile in consolation. “You can never be with your best friend too often, y’know?”

“Miranda,” Junior whined. “You’ll still drive me to school this year, right?”

“A promise is a promise!” Miranda nodded, finishing up her dinner and sliding the rest over to Mr. Duncan Dunn, the silent guardian of the household. “We’ll get to school early on the first day so I can show you around! That way, by the time you’re done with your first year, you won’t even miss me when I’m gone!”

“Oh, I’ll miss you,” Diana sighed, shaking her head, sending blonde strands flying. “I can’t believe my last chickling is going into high school this year! You all grow up so fast…” Here, she exchanged a meaningful look with Duncan with heavy eyes. Duncan didn’t say anything, only nodded as he continued eating. He was a man of few words.

Sabrina picked up her plate and placed it in the kitchen sink. For a few seconds, she pretended to be washing her dish, or at the very least let running water wash over it to see if her parents or siblings would say anything about her silence during dinner, or getting up while everyone else was still eating.

Nobody said anything, and so she went upstairs to her room.

She collapsed on her bed, facing the window and back to the door. Sometimes she wondered just how much of this was her fault. Why couldn’t she pick up her family’s genes? Well, in a way, she did. Her father wasn’t an extensive talker, but at least he still had a way with words. When he spoke, other people listened. Even if Sabrina opened her mouth, there was someone else to cut her off, someone else who spoke louder. As a kid when she was more desperate for her parent’s attention or her sibling’s friendship, she was more consistent in her attempts at talking, at recognition. As the years passed though and she was consistently given the cold shoulder, she just accepted her position in the household.

At first this meant being seen, but not heard. Now they didn’t have to suffer with either.

Lying down in bed, lost in her thoughts, the night sky was the closest thing to a friend she had. Just like the cracks on the wall, she would imagine the stars into different shapes. Sabrina didn’t actually know any of the official constellations outside of the Dippers, but sometimes she would imagine she could see a bunny rabbit, or a winking face. And sometimes her images were disrupted because what she thought was a star was actually an airplane.

This night was cloudy and dark. There was no moon or skies to illuminate the skies, and from her view, none of the neighbors had their lights on. It made for a silent and lonely night. If she listened closely she could hear some activity still that was from downtown, but even the center died down early at night. At least if there was some teenage raucous down the street or on the beach, the sound would carry and she could imagine what it was like being amidst friends, imagine just exactly what they were doing outside so late at night. Wonder if they were having fun or were just intoxicated.

A flash lit up the sky even through her closed eyelids. Part of her thought fireworks, a dubious attempt to prolong the summer by some rebellious teens. Another idea was lightning, as there had been no sound that accompanied the flash, and maybe there was a storm coming despite the lack of humidity that day. With a hazy and lazy gaze, Sabrina stared out her window and up at the cloudy sky. For a few quick seconds she thought that maybe the light had woken her up from sleep, and her eyes were taking a little longer than normal to adjust.

The clouds were outlined amidst the sky that was no longer black, but a dark gray, light gray, until a single streak of white became a blinding sight. It grew larger and larger in the distance, leaving a tail of cloud or steam behind it, until it disappeared. Or, at the very least, Sabrina didn’t see where the light flew off to--the whiteness became too much for her that she had to turn away, watching as it lit up the entirety of her room. When she looked back, the only remnants of the strange occurrence had actually happened was the strange streak of clouds lower than the actual coverage.

Then a bomb went off somewhere downtown.

And her windows exploded.

Sabrina bolted upright in bed and shoved herself as far away from her window as she could, although all that led to was her fall backwards onto the floor. Her head hit the carpet hard, but she barely realized it because there was a stabbing pain in her face and tangles in her hair. Glass.

She was overwhelmed with sensations. Did she acknowledge the fact that her ears were ringing, or the warmth that was dripping down her face? If she opened her eyes, would she find herself blinded by scratches? Were there any pieces stuck in her skin? These thoughts raced in her head and her hands shook in front of her, unsure of which part of her to address and help first, and so they remained useless.

“Sabrina!”

She was forced to open her eyes to see who had called her name--Miranda. Her eyes were wide and mouth agape slightly, It didn’t seem as though she had been asleep--instead, it seemed as though all of her nerves were on edge, the way her body was hunched together.

“...Miranda…” Sabrina breathed. “Are you okay?” Even as she spoke to her sister, she managed to raise her hand to her face. She still wasn’t able to feel it, even though she could tell she was bleeding. Or had been bleeding. There weren’t any stuck glass shards, though, which was a relief. After pulling back her hand, it was smeared with red. Not knowing what to do and not thinking properly yet, she rubbed her hands together in an attempt to thin it out of existence.

“M-mom thinks it might have been fireworks gone wrong. Until we can figure it out, though, she wants everyone downstairs… To keep an eye on us, I guess. It’ll make her feel better.” Miranda said, as if she felt compelled to explain herself.

Sabrina pulled herself off the floor once she had the strength to carry herself and after realizing that Miranda had no intentions to leave from the doorframe of her room. “I’ll be right down, I guess. Let me wash up… okay?” She said in her normal slow, even voice, as if her window hadn’t just attacked her.

“Right, I’ll leave you to that!” Thankful to have a reason to return to mother’s comforting company, or at the very least to leave Sabrina’s presence, she scuttered off and back downstairs.

Before heading to the washroom like she said she would, Sabrina crawled over her covers once more, wary of the glass. Outside the window, she was able to faintly make out the clouds that still lingered lower in the sky. However, the night sky had returned to its serene blackness. This was interrupted by the fact that the street was now louder with activity--no longer the same deafening sound of the explosion, but the low mumble of people collectively wondering what the hell just happened.

While washing off the blood on her face, Sabrina was able to splash water on her face without so much as flinching despite the various cuts across her. None were especially deep, and most of them grazed the right side of her face considering how she had been lying, but they may as well have been welts against her pale white skin. They fought for general focus against her dark freckles. Even as she stared at the mirror, there was a part of Sabrina that felt removed from the girl that looked back at her.

It seemed as though it took forever to wash the blood off her hands. Maybe it was just her eyes playing tricks on her, but there seemed to be a permanent pale stain that no matter how hard she scrubbed she could not be freed of. After a while, when she was sure it must be exhaustion or nerves or her eyes, Sabrina went downstairs to join her family. She would have expected them in the living room or the kitchen, but the moment she met the landing to the ground floor she saw that the front door was left wide open.

Despite a creeping sensation of fear and worry that left her brain ever more fuzzy and distraught, Sabrina went outside. Her family, asides from Junior, was huddled at the end of the driveway. She made her way without any rush to their side. Diana gave her a sidelong glance, reaching out to hold her hand. Sabrina took it without so much as a smile, though heat rushed to her face and she heaved out a breath she didn’t realize was building in her chest.

Sirens were beginning to fly throughout the air. They battled in Sabrina’s ears for dominance over the explosion and shatter of glass, which seemed to be playing on repeat in her eardrums. “What happened?”

“We aren’t sure. But, if you look over there,” Diana pointed towards downtown. She needn’t say more. The cloud streak in the sky pointed in that direction, but flames and billowing smoke also rose to disappear into the night sky.

“Should we go take a look? Make sure that everyone is okay?” Sabrina asked, but her mother had turned to Miranda, Talia, and Duncan, no longer paying attention to her. Miranda still seemed in shock, no better than when she had first left Sabrina’s room. Being the youngest there, Diana placed an arm around her shoulders in hopes of breaking her out of her shock, her eyes glazed over and unseeing. Talia was an odd contrast against her, seemingly fine. She watched Miranda but didn’t offer any comfort like Mrs. Dunn did, and her arms were crossed tightly over her chest. The only moment that exposed her was when one hand flickered out of the hold and made it’s way to brush an invisible strand of hair back into place, shaking as it did so.

When Diana didn’t answer, Sabrina allowed curiosity to get the best of her. Assuming her parents would just think she went back to bed, Sabrina closed her eyes and willed herself invisible. When she opened them and looked down at the ground, her pajama pants and boots were unseen next to her sister’s slippers. Before she could start worrying and consume herself with frightening thoughts and images, Sabrina began backing down the driveway and towards the center of town slowly. Once she was out of earshot of her family she picked the speed up a bit, allowing the clicking of her heels to fill the gaping silence of the street.

It did not stay quiet for long.

She was out of breath by the time she got to her favorite coffee shop downtown, otherwise she would have certainly gotten it knocked out of her. The popular spot that she had been at just hours earlier was no longer there. A chill place that was filled with steady background music of murmurs was now the source of the wailing sirens. The section had been blocked off by a frenzy of people jumping out of fire trucks, ambulances, and police cars. Sabrina had every intention of getting closer to the rubble of what was left of her little hangout considering that she could go past the officers without being seen, but the closer she got the more she worried she would be heard, even if she would not be noticed. The heat radiating off the source of the explosion was enough to get her to start sweating and cause her to pant a bit. Pressing a clammy hand over her lips in an attempt to keep quiet, she ignored the yellow tape that was being put up and wary of everyone’s movements around her. The last thing she wanted was to bump into someone and that was becoming too high a possibility.

Although she didn’t want to mess around with the scene too much, she figured that there were enough people being less careful than she was that getting closer to the situation wouldn’t be too much of a problem. With each passing minute more people were crowding around the officers and the cars, trying to get a look at the wreckage and the flames but being held back by security. Sabrina went as close as she dared to, not wanting to deal with the flames and heat waves still wafting off of

The meteorite?

In the middle of what had been stools and dining tables, surrounded by shattered glass and splintered wood, was a rock--a boulder? It wasn’t massive, maybe a few feet in diameter, but it was certainly no pebble either. As it cooled, Sabrina felt as though her soul was being sucked out of her body causing goosebumps to rise over her arms. She didn’t know what she had expected, but it certainly was not this. At the very least it had occurred after hours, where no one could have gotten hurt, although it was still a shame for the business and the owners.

What were the chances that a meteor would strike tiny, lonesome little Plymouth, Massachusetts? And what were the chances within those chances that out of the entire county of Plymouth, the coffee shop that Sabrina had gone to earlier that very day would be the place to be struck and the center of all this commotion?

Sabrina began to walk backwards away from the rock--for that was what it was, nothing but a rock. Sure, it had fallen from the sky, and it looked out of place sitting smack dab where the coffeehouse should have been, but otherwise it looked completely ordinary. Maybe if she had been farther north, in New Hampshire or Maine mountains, there would have been tons of boulders very similar to this one. And yet something so ordinary had lit up the night sky and caused her windows to explode.

“What happened?”

Still entranced by The Rock that had Fallen From the Sky, Sabrina didn’t at first realize someone had spoken. A second time the phrase was repeated, but Sabrina ignored it, figuring that she was just overhearing someone else’s conversation. There was no one in this crowd that would know her, and no one in this crowd that she knew.

A dark hand waved in front of her face to knock her out of her thoughts.

“Hello? Are you okay? Should I get one of the paramedics for you?”

Sabrina turned to her head to the side to look at the stranger, only to meet their shoulder. She had to crane her neck upwards to see the face of a girl she had never seen before in her life. That wasn’t saying much, all things considered, but it did make her wonder as to why this girl was speaking to her in the first place.

“I’m fine…” Sabrina murmured, though as she said it her stomach started somersaulting. “I don’t know. Can’t you see the meteor?”

“Well, yeah,” The girl said, taking her eyes off of Sabrina to look at the rock. Her eyes were unamazed, and Sabrina felt the same way. What was the point of something falling out of the sky if it was going to look like an ordinary Earth Rock? And destroy her favorite place to get a more-sugar-and-milk-than-coffee latte? The least it could do was contain Kryptonite, or maybe hatch a green lizard alien baby. It did not look as though either of those things would happen, though. The girl continued talking after a few seconds of silence. “But it’s nearly two-thirty in the morning! I can’t believe the crowd there still is this early!”

Sabrina’s heart jumped a beat at this comment--two-thirty? How would she manage getting into her house at this hour if her parents had already gone back to bed? What time did the meteor end up hitting Earth? Sabrina took another glance at the girl, and they exchanged glances. Her heart did another awkward pitter patter; she felt awkwardly out of place and had no idea how to interact in social situations such as these. They had only just met and only spoke a few words to each other, so should she say goodbye, or could she just leave without any warning? For a stifling minute Sabrina just stood there, pondering over her dilemma before making a break for it. She ran the rest of the way back home and didn’t look back at the crowd or at the meteorite.

Her house looked dark and uninviting when she made her way back up the driveway. There were only two floors to her house, but her bedroom suddenly seemed very high up. Sabrina tested the front door but as she expected, it didn’t budge. She may be able to turn invisible, but she hadn’t yet mastered being able to phase through walls. If she had any upper-body strength perhaps she could scale the wall to her room, or maybe a strong, old tree that she could climb up and fling herself to her window. Neither of those existed, and her window was probably locked from the inside.

“Help,” Sabrina whispered, staring with hunched shoulders at her front door. She could try knocking, but would anybody hear her? What was the point of ringing the doorbell and waking up the rest of her family, and then having to explain to them what she was doing and how she managed to stay outside?

To avoid disrupting her family and because she didn’t think she had the strength in her to face them at this hour, she decided to head out to the backyard. If a flaming rock hadn’t just fallen out of the sky, maybe she would have decided to camp out for the rest of the night. That being said, a flaming rock had just fallen out of the sky right down the block, so that wasn’t an option. Instead, she decided to camp out in her basement. The entrance from the backyard was unable to be locked, but the door from inside the house could be locked--and would be at this hour. As silent as the night, Sabrina hefted up the metal door and crept downstairs, trying to shut the heavy door without emitting any noise.

She was left in utter blackness. The blackness was worse than darkness. Outside was dark, but in the basement there was no light, artificial or otherwise. There was a lightbulb somewhere, but there was a lot of junk down here. Although her family was two floors above her, Sabrina still crawled around her basement floor, searching without sight for a relatively open space in the basement to at least sit down. The last thing she wanted to do was knock into something, or to knock something over. Even the slightest nudge or tumble sounded like another meteor crash to her.

When Sabrina found a relatively clear spot, she nestled down for the night. Her back was against the wall and her legs were spread out and the basement felt ten degrees colder than both outside and the rest of her house. Even in her own house, she was a prisoner. The last thing she wanted to do was fall asleep--what she wanted was her warm bed, but maybe it wouldn’t be so warm with the blown out window and shards of glass amidst the blankets--but there was nothing else to do. There was nothing to entertain herself with down here, and she hadn’t the energy to bother doing anything. She was exhausted, yet sleep was the last thing on her mind. There was a restlessness inside of her that she was unsure of how to cure. This feeling so consumed her that her last thoughts were not even of the fact that her town would probably make front page news tomorrow because of a meteor strike, but instead she found herself wondering how she could find herself wrestling between feeling blase yet restless. While trying her best to just relax without dozing off, Sabrina fell asleep.

#long post #romo novel #excerpt #my writing

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mycharmingcharade · 9 years ago

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Aurore Sbornei and Dustin Sbornei.

Leader of the Cursed and the most powerful Offensive member of the Cursed. They are literally so awkward that I even subconsciously drew them looking away from each other...

They are siblings with Dustin being the eldest. He is probably two years older or so than Aurore.

Aurore used to be a hothead, but now I think she is a bit more emotionally stunted and awkward. Even though she knows she’s Leader, she doesn’t always feels up to the job. She is in a romantic relationship with Ozzie, but she is asexual. Her, Ozzie, and Nick make up a trio considering they are all close in age and good friends.

Now Dustin HAS retained his hotheadedness throughout the years. He is also pretty awkward. His best friend is Saber Tooth. Dustin is best known for being the biggest of the Cursed, being tall and muscular but still retaining a baby face and freckles. There’s also something about him being a murderer, or maybe a king, but... you would have to read the book to properly understand all that. :)

#dne #dead end #my art #dustin sbornei #aurore sbornei

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mycharmingcharade · 9 years ago

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For Ozzie’s character week, we have the full Smith-Luminesse family drawn together! LOADS of info about each of these characters under the cut! <3

Ozzie, Dana, and Maddex are triplets. The problem is, however, that Ozzie stays with his father, Rian, with the Cursed. Dana and Maddex stay with their mother, Jewel, with the Fallen. Rian and Jewel both lack any magic. Maddex is the Former Higher Leader of Silver (his Higher Leader name was Moon) and Dana is the Former Higher Leader of White (her Higher Leader name was Pearl).

The triplets are 18 years old. Rian is probably near fifty, and Jewel is in her forties. Even if I could draw old people, they wouldn’t look old because anyone who interacts with a Cursed magic user doesn’t age after their peak years.

Although this is a Fictional World, they are supposed to be based Filipino-Filipina.

When one is a Higher Leader, they emanate a certain color--their hair, skin, clothes all reflect it. Since Dana and Maddex have Fallen, their roots are growing back in. They still aren’t used to wearing other colors. Undoubtedly, Dana is the strongest in her family. Maddex could be very strong, but he doesn’t really care about fighting. He doesn’t care about much. He has a very monotone voice, but he also doesn’t talk often. Ozzie is very bad at magic and it is unknown whether he is Offensive or Defensive. His skin normally has a yellow-green undertone to it due to his constant nervousness and nausea. Everyone on the Fallen are trained to be Offensive wielders.

Rian and Jewel used to be in a relationship, but they were never married, although they were serious for each other...as serious as either could get in terms of a romantic/sexual relationship. Jewel is now in a semi-relationship with Xander, the Leader of the Fallen. Ozzie is in a relationship with Aurore. Dana and Maddex are both single.

This actually looks a lot better in person so when I get home maybe I will scan it (these pics are from my phone!) and hopefully it will look better! Also maybe someday I will make a digital version. For now though I am proud of this post and I hope you guys like it!! If you have any questions about any of the characters or the story, please let me know..!!

#my art #ozzie smith #dana luminesse #maddex luminesse #jewel luminesse #rian smith #dne

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mycharmingcharade · 9 years ago

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Don't leave me to die here...

#ozzie smith #dawn of a new era #dne #myedit #tbr

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mycharmingcharade · 9 years ago

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First character of the week (starting in the middle of the week idgaf) will be Ozzie!! Since I had already done a moodboard for him that I still really like, here it is again. 8)

Ozzie Smith- Follower, unknown whether he is Defensive or Offensive. He is not exceptionally gifted at magic in general. One of the three Smith children, his same-age siblings Dana and Maddex are Fallen Higher Leaders and they live with his mother, Jemsa, while he remains with their father, Rian. He is not a former Higher Leader as his sister and brother are. Despite not being the “original trio,” Ozzie, Aurore, and Nick are all very good friends and are born in the same year. He is Aurore’s boyfriend.

Ozzie Smith. There was only one way to describe his skin color, and that was yellow-green, the same yellow-green someone got before you saw what they had for lunch. His eyes always looked like they were about to pop out of his head, and his shoulders were always up by his jawline. There was no way of knowing what specifically put him on edge because he always looked like that; he always looked uncomfortable in his own skin.

#ozzie smith #dead end #my writing #myedit #this is 4 u courtney my one and only fan!!!!!

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mycharmingcharade · 9 years ago

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Camera Shy

“There’s something here,” Kathee whispered into Mercy’s ear.

“...Really?” The other girl didn’t even try to hide her skepticism. “I don’t feel anything.” Like always, her voice was quiet and void of emotion. Dark brown eyes were far from amused. “We’re in a trashy, abandoned place.”

Mercy was right. The street they were on had long since been abandoned. Actually, it was a dead end. With how the houses on both sides of the street barely managed to stay standing, many of them without complete structures and black with soot and char, Mercy took the phrase “dead end” quite literally. When was the last time anyone had lived here? Had even stepped foot in this place?

It didn’t help that this place seemed to be exactly where Kathee belonged, but Mercy stood out terribly. Ever since this place fell to ruin, nature was making her claim once more so that it was more rural and woodsy than suburban. That was where Kathee belonged--in a cabin in the middle of the woods somewhere. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere. A place that was more dark and quiet. Despite being her best friend, Mercy belonged in quite the opposite atmosphere--just looking at her, one would imagine her a city street model. The way she held herself, the way she spoke,the fashion she wore perfectly screamed urbanite. The only thing about her that didn’t scream urbanite was her bank account. Still, the closest she preferred getting to nature was the floral prints that often decked her outfits. How they both managed to live together and attend the same urban university was beyond her comprehension.

Kathee was ready to get down and dirty, in a simple tee shirt and overalls. And so she did--she entered the premises of one of the houses. When she got close enough to touch one of the last standing walls, part of it crumbled under her touch, browning and blackening her pale white skin. “You still feel nothing?”

“Nada. Nothing. Zip.”

Without a proper door to knock on, Kathee rapped her knuckles against the tiling closest to what would have been a side door. The wood panel she had touched dropped to the ground, catching both of the girl’s attention, with an added jump from Mercy.

“You’re not going in there,” Mercy said as if it was already decided.

“Okay, five minutes, mom,” Was Kathee’s response, stepping through the doorway.

“I’m not saying this because I’m afraid,” Mercy continued. It was true--she wasn’t afraid of ghosts. She was afraid for Kathee. “You could get hurt. Something might fall down on you, or you might fall through something. Do you know how far we are from any sort of aide?”

“You forget, Mercy, that this is your first rodeo. Not mine,” Kathee called out to her. Mercy had remained outside the house on stable ground while Kathee had wandered inside.

Most of the second floor had joined the first floor. There was still part of it standing, giving some truth to Mercy’s warning. Kathee could also see into a section of the basement, where there was a gaping hole in the first floor. It seemed to have been a living room. The drop was precarious, though, and there no longer seemed to be a way to get back up to the first floor from what Kathee could see. She would have to watch her step, but the whole point of her coming out here was to look around with a careful eye.

“So, what are you up to?” Mercy called out to Kathee. She wasn’t able to see her anymore. “Did you bring an EMF detector with you?”

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” Kathee forced out a dry laugh as she rolled her eyes. Although Mercy could not see her doing it, something inside her told her “she’s rolling your eyes at you. God, fuck this girl.” Mercy rolled her eyes in response. “All I need is my trust camera! Seeing is believing, is it not?”

“What if the ghosts are shy?” Mercy asked. She was growing tired--the sun was setting, making everything very dark. Almost all of the houses were already dark colored, and the overwhelming amount of woodsy coverage made the dying light disappear even faster. She also didn’t like raising her voice so much, but she refused to go inside. Even though, with each disappearing flicker of the sun, fear twisted her heart a little tighter.

“Even shy people are caught on camera. Besides, most ghosts are actually quite vain.” Finding a rather solid space in the house, almost on the exact opposite side from which Mercy stood, Kathee settled down. From her backpack that she had been carrying she pulled out her dual video-photography camera. Flicking it into video mode, Kathee raised it to her eye while also flipping open the side view. As she expected,she didn’t see anything except the charcoal and rubble in an eerie green glow. But, that didn’t necessarily mean nothing was being caught on camera, either.

“Kathee!” Mercy called out, after not hearing from her for a few minutes. She wasn’t sure what she thought could have happened--if something had fell, or if she had fell, undoubtedly Mercy would have heard something. But it was the silence that was creeping her out more than anything. It wasn’t just Kathee that was quiet, it was everything. The house was not settling or groaning, there was no wind rustling the trees and there were no animals scuttling in the undergrowth. Since it was a dead end long forgotten, there was no traffic. Nobody drove by. No people yelling or playing outside. In terms of population, this street was only inhabited by Mercy and Kathee. Or so Mercy hoped.

“Kathee!” Mercy cried out again, her throat a little tighter and her voice a little more shrill this time.

Still no answer.

“If you’re fucking around with me, just know that I am going to kill you.” Mercy threatened as she began to make her way into the building. Or whatever was left of it. Inside, it was even darker, and seemed even lonelier than outside. Unlike Kathee, Mercy had no fancy equipment. This wasn’t her forte. She took out her phone to use as a flashlight just in time to stop herself from falling down the gap in the living room.

People used to live here? Even Mercy was beginning to question that. She couldn’t help but feel horribly removed--like she was in a different time, a different world, where it was just her and Kathee left. What a duo. Society would be doomed.

As Mercy made her way slowly to the backroom, she first saw feet. Converse. A sure sign that Kathee was there.

But why did it look like she was lying down?

“Sleeping on the job, Kathee?” Mercy asked, walking into the backroom. As she did, she saw--

Shoes, legs, torso, neck--

But what disconnected the neck from the head was an axe, still wedged in place. Blood was still pooling out from the wound, soaking the girl’s clothes and staining her skin. Her eyes were glazed over, staring at the ceiling, her mouth left hanging open slightly.

Mercy dropped her phone as she went to cover her mouth. It did not, however, stop her from screaming. While backing away from the body of her best friend, she tripped over herself, or something else, and fell down so that she began to crawl backwards towards the kitchen until all that she could see were Kathee’s converses.

When Mercy’s back pressed against something solid, she was surprised--what could be so strong in this deprecated house? She turned her head upwards to look behind her to see--

Kathee, standing behind her.

Before Mercy could begin screaming again, and faster than she could swivel around, Kathee was beside her, cupping Mercy’s face in her hands. “What’s the matter? Why did you scream? Did you see a shadow?” Kathee asked at the same time she opened up her camera once more.

Although Mercy didn’t know how to form words with her mouth at the moment, she pointed a single finger in the direction of the back room, and Kathee scampered off in that direction. She had already taken pictures of the room, but if there was something that had scared her friend so badly, then maybe it was worth checking again.

“Maybe I need to take you on trips more often, Mercy!” Kathee said, blissfully tapping away at her camera. “Maybe you attract ghosts!”

“Kathee!” Although she wasn’t entirely sure she was all there, Mercy found strength enough in her legs to run over to her friend in hopes of stopping her from seeing--

Seeing what?

There was nothing to be seen.

No body.

Where did it go?

“That’s impossible.” Mercy rubbed at her eyes, to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Or maybe she had been? She had been getting tired. And maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her in the dark.

“What’s wrong?” Kathee asked, flashing her camera light over Mercy to attract her out of her thoughts. When it came to what she was feeling, it was plain to see from the pout on her face--Kathee was worried for Mercy. Maybe this trip was too much for her. Some people just couldn’t handle these sort of experiences.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Mercy whispered, low and hoarse. “I’m not sure we’re alone here. You’ve had enough fun for one night, right? ‘Cause I sure have,” She encircled Kathee’s wrist with her hand, forcing her to follow her outside.

Although Mercy had every intention of walking past the house, down the driveway, and towards civilization, something on the lawn just outside the front door caught her attention. It only took one second,and she looked forward like it was nothing, but then it finally registered. She turned on heel, forcing Kathee to look as well.

Mercy’s body, in a similar position as Kathee’s had been. Shoes, legs, torso, but this time the head was still attached to the body--the axe was wedged into her neck but caught on her spinal cord. Instead of lying on the reddening grass, the stick of the axe hung in the air.

As if someone had just left their post momentarily, and would be back soon to finish the job.

“Do you see it now?” Mercy forced out in a single breath. She was feeling light headed, and dizzy, and maybe she was breathing a little too quickly, or maybe her lungs weren't working fast enough, and just how long did Kathee plan to stand there? They needed to go, now. She no longer cared to find out whether this was the work of someone tangible or not--all she thought about was the fact that she could not fight neither murderer nor ghost.

As if Kathee read her mind, the two girls started running down the sloped driveway at the same time. Just before reaching the end, though, a dark figure materialized before them. They tried to stop, burning rubber until they both collapsed backwards.

First it was nothing but a shadow, but then its body began to form.

Shoes,

Legs,

Torso,

Head.

And, of course, in its hands, an axe.

“Kathee!” Mercy screeched, forcing herself onto her feet even when she thought they had completely failed her. She didn’t dare turn her back on this--this thing--her brain was not working fast enough for her to decide whether or not it was really a man, or if it just looked like a man. She grabbed Kathee’s wrist as she held it up her hand for help, but it was all over in a matter of seconds.

One minute her friend was there, and one minute--she was gone.

And her head was rolling farther down the driveway, stopping only at the figure’s feet.

With no air in her lungs to form anymore words and with the axe still slick with her best friend’s blood, he swung again.

#my writing #my story #dead end #genre:horror

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