randomwritingsofluna

[randomwritingsofluna]

A Man Who Saw No Beauty

There was a man who could not see any beauty in the world. No matter what spectacle he had seen, he only saw sadness, anger, despair, and disappointment. He would go around, telling others of how there was no true beauty in the world, only the tricks we played on ourselves, hoping to hold on to some form of hope that our world wasn’t in ruins already.

No matter what he saw, there was no beauty. He witnessed sunset and sunrise, but only saw the dread people faced from having to wake up to the stresses they would experience throughout the night. Deer would run past him as he travelled, though he could only see the deer becoming someone else’s dinner. Perhaps, the worst case of this was when he saw his child born, he could only see the pain they would experience after losing their parents, not the joyous moments of birthdays, or the making of a new friend. No, those were only distractions from the universe, trying to hide us from the truth.

As the man went on, spreading his word, he ran into a man adamant about telling him that beauty existed in everything, he just needed to try harder. The man who saw no beauty was used to this, he had many tell him the same thing, but this man assured him, he was different than the rest. “I have walked the land. I’ve seen nearly everything there is to see on this world, and I assure you, there was not a moment I could not find any beauty. Come with me, I’m sure I can show you something beautiful. Perhaps that will help open your eyes to a world around you that you’re missing out on!”

And so, the man who saw no beauty went with the man who had walked the land, where they came upon a river. “Look closely. See all the fish swimming around? How the stream flows in that direction for as far as we can see, leading to who knows where. The animals who come to this river to drink find peace here. It’s very likely there was a civilization that was started here because of this river,” said the man who had walked the land.

“Yes, I can see the fish swimming, how the river seems endless, and how these animals come here to survive. It is likely there was a civilization formed here as well,” the man who saw no beauty spoke, though it was with a tone of sorrow.

“Yes!” the man who had walked the land exclaimed in excitement, “Now do you see the beauty?”

“I see that these fish will die, possibly from being hunted by a predator, or pulled out by some careless fisher and left to suffocate. And though it may seem the stream goes on I know it has to stop at some point. It also may be an inconvenience for those who live nearby, or perhaps may have ruined the fauna that was once in its path. The civilization that might’ve been here is long gone, with nothing to show for it, save for bones buried beneath the earth. There is no beauty here, only eventual death, like all things in nature.”

The man who had walked the land gave frowned at the man who saw no beauty and tried another place. Though this man tore apart this place as well. It continued on like this for some time, until the man who had walked the land had an epiphany. “If I can’t prove to you there is beauty in everything, I know someone who can. Come with me, one last time. I promise it won’t be a waste!” The man who saw no beauty only sighed and gestured for his acquaintance to lead the way.

After walking for what must have been days, they finally came upon a lone tent in a valley. “Sir, I brought someone who claims to see no beauty! Despite my best efforts, I cannot get him to see all that life has to offer. Please, help this poor man understand. He seems to be so sad and I believe only you can help him! Please!” spoke the man who walked the land, to another man staring at the sky, a paper in hand, pencil in the other.

The man set the pencil and paper down and turned to look at the man who saw no beauty, inspecting him, circling around him, and mumbling to himself every so often. “While I commend you for your efforts, I fear I cannot help those who do not want to be helped, no more than you or anyone else. He may leave,” the man said, then immediately went back to looking at the sky, seeming to study the clouds.

“But sir! You’ve walked among the stars, you’ve not just seen the world, you’ve seen the universe and what it has to offer! Surely there must be something you can do!”

The man who walked among the stars grunted, then turned to the man who saw no beauty. “There is one thing I can do. I can give you advice, if you wish to hear it.”

The man who saw no beauty shrugged and said, “Why not? Though there’s nothing you can say that will change how I see the world, in its purest form.”

The man who walked among the stars smiled briefly, nodding his head, then spoke, “You actively avoid beauty. You don’t lack a vision for it, far from it. You see it. Then ignore it.” He spoke with anger and disdain. “There is beauty in everything, but because you can’t see any inside of yourself, you refuse to recognize the beauty around you.” The man who walked the land looked upon him in awe, having never heard his mentor speak quite this way before.

“Sir, perhaps you’re being a bit harsh,” said the man who walked the land. He looked over at the man who saw no beauty, who was silent, only staring at the man scolding him. Though it would be more accurate to say he was looking through the man scolding him, almost as if he knew this all already.

“I’m far from being too harsh my apprentice. This man is going down a dangerous path. He will do anything to convince those around him that there’s no beauty in anything. If he can’t find a lack of beauty in something, he’ll make a lack of it. He’d set ruin to the universe just to prove his point.” He pointed at the man who saw no beauty, “If you don’t change, I fear for the universe. There is beauty in you somewhere, but I can’t see it anymore than you can. So instead of destroying it, make some.”

He paused, but only briefly, “While there is a beauty in destruction, your destruction will only lead to despair. And when you look at yourself, you’ll not see a happier man, no, you’ll see a man who’s broken and wasted away. Now get out of my sight.”

The man who saw no beauty was dejected. He spoke no words but followed the order and left. The man who had walked among the stars saw no beauty in him either, and somehow, he had managed to find beauty in even the most destructive forces of the universe.

[randomwritingsofluna]

Yard Sale

At a glance,

A yard sale is nothing more than,

A pile of unwanted things.

Thing the owner no longer wants or needs.

Or just a pile of junk.

But a yard sale reveals a lot about somebody.

What they do,

What they like,

What they’re like,

And most importantly,

Memories.

A yard sale is full of

Memories.

And you get a glimpse,

Of someone else’s life.

[randomwritingsofluna]

Control

Shut your eyes,

Ignore the signs.

You’re mine,

And I’m yours.

As long as you do as I say,

We can do this forever.

You can’t open your eyes,

Not even slightly,

Or I may lose you.

Trust me,

This is how

Love

Is supposed to be.

[randomwritingsofluna]

Death’s Knock

Upon the ground I lay

Here is my final resting place

I thought I locked the door

When Death knocks

You don’t choose to answer

Death comes to greet you

I can’t run

I can’t hide

Death has come knocking

Though I feel it’s not my time

[randomwritingsofluna]

Destruction and Creation

Destruction and

Creation.

Creation and

Destruction.

Ying and

Yang.

They are one in the same.

Black and

White.

You cannot create without destroying.

And you cannot destroy without creating.

One is not more beautiful than the other.

When you draw on a piece of paper,

You may create a drawing,

But you destroyed a clean piece of paper.

Creation and

Destruction.

Destruction and

Creation.

They are one in the same.

[randomwritingsofluna]

Regret

It was just a thought

A single question

I didn’t think anything would happen

A question that got an answer

I can’t help but think

I’m the one to blame

The question will follow me

Looming like a shadow

Until I leave it

In the grave

[randomwritingsofluna]

The Cell’s Prisoner

Standing in the cell

Pacing the stone-cold floor

No guards

No warden

A single prisoner

Tally marks on the walls

Years of no relief

No way to leave

Only one way

No guards

No warden

A single prisoner

Lying dead on the floor

[randomwritingsofluna]

Them

I look over the sunset,

I’m sacrificing myself,

For their revival.

I tear myself apart,

So they can stay together.

I don’t want to,

But they need it.

I’m destroying myself,

To create them.

I look over the sunset,

I’ve reached my end,

But this is only the beginning for them.

[randomwritingsofluna]

The Death of Creativity

Colors fading from the world

Rainbows washing down the drain

Grays filling the air

Sheet music going up in flames

Voices dying down

Conformity filling our lives

Left right

Left right

Along we march to our doom

Left right

Left right

No more steps out of line

Lines aren’t drawn out of

For there are no lines to draw in

Black and white

White and black

The world once a canvas

Now a graveyard of what was

No talks or thoughts of rebellion because this life is all anyone knows

And we watched as the books were set aflame in the streets

And we were silent as museums of art were torn down

And we listened as no one spoke out against the executions of the last artists

The once vibrant colors of the world now became a dull gray, white, and black

Worlds that had been created on a simple sheet of paper were gone an instant

But not one tear was shred

And if there was, it was not heartbreaking enough to demand a change

For now we live in a world full of grays and dullness

With the colors that formed the world we once had are now buried deep

Buried, burned, slashed, and removed from history

Never to see the light of day again

[randomwritingsofluna]

The Antique Collector

I’ve always considered myself a collector of antiques, and a good one at that. Almost everything in my home was an antique, save for things such as my couch or television. Just because I enjoyed them doesn’t mean that I felt that everything needed to be one. That’d be ridiculous, as I found that a few antique collectors believed this absurd idea. I tried to avoid them as much as possible, I found that they were quite annoying and had the tendency to berate others who enjoyed antiques that wouldn’t be wearing clothes from the 19th century.

Despite the annoyance that they could be, they also tended to provide valuable information, like as one had done recently. I had been informed of an antique shop that was going out of business, and as sad as it was, it meant opportunity for me. Apparently, the owner had passed, his son couldn’t keep up with the payments, as much as he tried to help keep his father’s shop alive. I of course had rushed to the shop, usually antiques could be quite expensive, but if a shop was closing, it meant lowered prices. I did feel bad for capitalizing on a local man who lost his father and now what must’ve been the few things remaining of him. But I didn’t know him and wouldn’t let on to the fact that I knew of what had happened.

I had called him a few days prior to my arrival, saying that I saw his shop and was interested in buying a few things, but did see that they were going out of business. I asked him about what he had left and when he mentioned that he believed that he had some items from ancient Greece, I knew I had to come. Upon my arrival at his quaint shop, I began browsing until he came up to the counter. I introduced myself as the one who had called him and wanted to know more about the items from ancient Greece.

He pulled out a few things, necklaces, tools, and quite a few other things that I didn’t find appealing. As amazing as it was that they had survived that long, a nearly destroyed tool wasn’t exactly the best conversational piece. I did see that as he went to retrieve more items, something similar to a vase. It seemed too small to be a vase, so I thought it would be impractical for actual use, even in such ancient times. Speaking up, I asked, “What’s that piece next to you? The one that seems like a vase.”

“Hm?” he looked around and then down at his waist where the piece was sitting upon a shelf, “Ah. This one isn’t actually a vase, but is an urn. Obviously, there’s no ashes inside. I don’t know if there ever was or where my dad even got it from. But he always refused to sell it. I don’t know if I could sell it, wouldn’t seem right to. No matter how much I need the money,” he replied. I was curious about why his father never sold it to anyone. Must’ve had a good reason for it.

“How much would you price it at, if you were to sell it?”

“I guess, $30? I don’t want to sell it though, but I need the money.”

“How about I pay you $50 for it? I think it’s an amazing piece and would go wonderfully with my collection.” He looked down at the urn, back to me, and finally down at the urn once more. He then sighed heavily.

The antique dealer reluctantly agreed to sell the small urn for $50 but warned, “I think I should tell you about the curse.” I looked at him strangely, before I could utter a single word he told me of the curse, “As you are well aware, this urn is from ancient Greece. However, it was my dad’s belief that the urn was cursed and should never be sold to anyone. He said that they had a male personification for murder, creatures called Phonoi. Dad weaved tales of a Phonos, who had been captured and imprisoned by the ancient Greeks, which they believed to be the cause of a string of killings in their village. They imprisoned him in an urn, they believed it to be a fitting prison, having it passed down through the ages to be guarded. My dad said he was the current guardian and that I’d be next in line. As to how much I actually believe of what he told me, I don’t know. Dad had started to lose his mind a bit before his death, it was hard to watch. All we could do was go along with what he was saying. I promised him before he died that I’d guard the urn,” the dealer paused for a moment, like he was about to cry at the thought of his father and his passing, he continued with, “I know it’s not what he would’ve wanted, but dad was also more worried about the well-being of his family and I can’t handle running his shop. It’s no secret I’m not making enough to pay off the expenses for it, I’m rarely open. As much as he loved this place, it’s too taxing on me to take care of it anymore. So, have the urn, just be careful with it.”

I stared at him in disbelief, not just at the so-called “curse,” but at how much he opened up to a complete stranger. I paid him the $50 and he handed me the now carefully wrapped urn. I took it to my car and drove home trying to think of a place to put it. I decided upon an antique dresser by my front door.

Walking through the door, urn in one hand and my keys in the other, I felt the urn slip out of my hand and fall to the floor. I stared in dismay and thought to myself At least I got it on sale. I went to get a broom and a dust pan, but when I returned, the pieces of the broken urn were gone. I was thoroughly confused and began to worry about the curse that I had been so quick to dismiss. It couldn’t really be true. Could it? I wondered, not realizing my question would be answered soon enough.

I heard footsteps through my house and immediately became worried. No one else but me should’ve been home, I ran for my phone in a panic. As I was about to dial 9-1-1, I heard a clunk on the dresser. There sat the urn, in one piece, except there were now markings that had not been there before. My arm that held the phone suddenly caught ablaze and started spreading up to my shoulder and as it did, my arm slowly turned to ash. The dust then took to the air and started going into the urn. I tried running, but it was to no avail. The flames kept going further and further, eventually my other arm caught on fire too, repeating the same process. My legs were next as my only arm was reduced down to my elbow. As I lost my legs, instead of falling to the ground, the flames continued up on my floating torso as I screamed out in pain and fright. All the while, a laugh could be heard throughout my home, in my final moments, I realized it was emanating from the urn.

He didn’t need to speak what he was for me to know, it was the Phonos trapped within the urn. Free, now that I had dropped it accidentally. My final thoughts before I completely turned to ash were: I should’ve listened. Now I will pay the price, as will many others for my foolishness. Before my right eye turned to ash with the rest of my body, I saw that the Phonos had taken form. Specifically, the form of me. He appeared to be writing something, he was close enough that I saw that it was the events that had happened in the antique shop, even my thoughts. He looked at me and smiled. The only part of the form he had taken was the right eye. No one would suspect that I was dead, as “I” would still walk the Earth. As my eye faded to ash, I saw it form on the impostor’s body and then complete darkness, I was dead and he was free.

[randomwritingsofluna]

Life of a Coin

Sometimes people think of where the money they’re holding has been. This usually doesn’t occur when someone is buying something, they’re busy thinking about the plans they have when they get out of the store. You don’t think about its life, from off the printing press, to wherever it ends up years and years later. Maybe you should start thinking about where that coin has been.

This particular coin was made on May 16th, 2003; this particular coin was a nickel. It had started off in a bank teller’s hands. Where a man needed change for a dollar, specifically for a nickel so he could use a parking meter nearby. After receiving the various coins and the nickel, he used that nickel to pay for his parking. And there it sat for quite some time, until someone decided to empty the parking meters a little sooner than they should have been.

A petty thief with a pillowcase had been going around the city, finding parking meters and emptying them into his pillowcase. The thief was never caught and he then used the money at a store a few days later. The nickel that had been minted on May 16th, 2003 was one of these coins. A week later the thief was caught and arrested. However, the nickel had already been spent and was now sitting in a cash register. At the end of the day when the nickel had been spent, it was counted up, but the nickel had stayed, waiting to be returned to someone as change.

Eventually, three months and two days to be exact, the nickel was given as change to a woman doing her grocery shopping. But on her way out of the store, she had dropped it and didn’t even notice the sound of the coin dropping to the ground, or the boy behind her who tried giving it back to her. The boy asked his mother what he should do with the coin since the woman didn’t take it; he was told to keep it and either save up or spend it with his allowance. The boy decided to save the money up.

After the boy received his weekly allowance, he went straight to the comic store. He had saved up a month’s worth of allowance, plus any money he had come across, like the nickel the woman dropped. There he spent his allowance, including the nickel, on two new issues of his favorite comic series. The owner of the store liked collecting nickels, he saw that this nickel was from 2013. For some reason, he had been unable to come across one, even though it was now 2015. He kept the nickel with his collection.

When the comic book store owner returned home, happy with his new addition to his collection, he had started getting his materials ready to hang it on his nickel wall, when he heard a scratching. He went to look for the source and saw his cat clawing at the nickel, leaving small cuts on the coin. He then yelled at his cat to stop scratching the nickel. Sighing and examining the coin, he saw the damage was minimal, but he would like one that hadn’t been damaged. Though due to him not having another 2013 nickel, he would wait until he found one in better condition.

Three years went by, the nickel still hung upon the wall of the comic book store owner, but he still hadn’t found another 2013 nickel. The comic book store owner had been continuing on with his life, still looking for a better nickel, but as he was cooking, he heard a crash from his cat and left the stove. He had been making himself bacon and had found that his cat had gotten into some old comic books and the store owner now was wrestling with the cat to get it away from the comics. While this was going on, the bacon had caught fire and was spreading to the rest of the kitchen. Hearing the roar of the flames, the store owner rushed to grab some water and put out the fire.

Taking the cup filled with water, he flung the its contents on the grease fire. The fire roared stronger than before and consumed the house. The nickel, made on May 16th, 2003, given to the bank, next the man needing change for the parking meter, then in the parking meter where it was stolen by the petty thief, where they spent the nickel at a store, where a woman shopping had received it as change, but then she dropped it and though a little boy tried giving it back to her, she just wouldn’t listen, then the boy saved this nickel and spent it with a month’s allowance for some comic books, where the nickel reached the final owner’s home, where the cat scratched it and hung upon a wall with other nickels, and finally burn with the house that

[randomwritingsofluna]

Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner

I recently sent out multiple invitations to random addresses to come to my dinner party. Each invitation gave them the information on what they would need to arrive at the location I decided upon, a risky and dangerous idea I know. Someone who means me harm could arrive, but that’s just another part of the thrill for my dinner parties. You see, I hold my parties once a month, invite over a few guests and just enjoy myself.

I look around my area and use a random number generator to determine the address, this time it generated a five, so I sent out my invitations to a few houses that had a five in the address number. This ensures that it is completely random and that I don’t put any bias into my decision. Doing so would ruin what I want to ensure in my dinner parties, complete randomness and a bit of chaos.

To add to the chaos, I sneak out at night and put the letters in random mailboxes, preventing anyone from pinpointing my location. I decide on those houses with another random number generator, this one being eight, so I went to homes that had an eight in their address. If everyone were to know about my dinner parties, then it’d be much too inclusive and boring. Having a select random few coming to the party is much better than just anyone who heard about it and wanted to come.

The invitations were in the mailboxes a week ago and those who received the invitations would come soon. I had prepared the destination, an old farm house that no one used anymore, I spruced the place up by giving fresh coats of paint, repairing the floors, and even cutting down a few trees to make chairs and tables to keep with the theme. By the time I was done, the old farm house looked like it had been kept up with for quite some time, and not ignored for years as before. I even did some gardening work and planted a few flowers, along with removing weeds, vines, and cut the grass down.

I was inside setting out plates, while dinner was cooking when I heard a knock at the door. “That must be one of the fated guests!” I thought to myself. I set down the white plate I was holding and walked to the door. “Just a minute please!” I said to my guest, as I unlocked the door with the key, the doorknobs locked on the inside and outside with a key. I opened the door and saw my first guest.

“Hello ma’am, I’m Walter, Walter Harrington. I received your letter in the mail and I must say that you look stunning in that dress. May I come in?” he spoke in a thick Southern accent, not common around these parts, but it was charming.

“Why thank you! Please! Come in, come in! You’re the first guest to arrive, I’m sure the others will arrive soon. Have a seat in the dining room if you wish.” As Walter went to sit down, I checked on the food, it wasn’t done just yet, which meant I had more time to set out plates, napkins, and silverware.

As I predicted, the other guests started to arrive. After Walter, a family of three arrived, consisting of Martin Eldrich, Elizabeth Eldrich, and their son, Ryan Eldrich, who must’ve been no older than three. However, no other guests arrived. I had expected as much, not many people would want to come to a random invitation they received. Being the gracious host that I am, I greeted them with kindness and introduced them to Walter.

I excused myself to the kitchen to continue with the final preparations for the dinner. I overheard them speaking through the thin walls. “So, Walter, do you, uh, know this woman? We received a random invitation and thought to try something adventurous,” a gruff voice, belonging to Martin, spoke.

“Well, no actually. I am in the same boat as you,” spoke Walter with his Southern drawl. Perhaps under different circumstances, I would’ve found it to be nice to listen to for hours on end. But I had plans, and I wasn’t going to let an accent get in the way of work that I have spent years on.

Once the food was finished cooking, I poured the drinks, adding a tasteless sleeping powder to each drink. Ryan wouldn’t need as much as his father or mother, but I wanted to make sure.

“What an amusing woman, inviting complete strangers to her home just for some dinner!” spoke Elizabeth in a dainty voice. A mumbled response came, but I could not hear it, likely belonging to Ryan. The boy hadn’t found his voice it seemed.

“I’m sorry that took so long, I just had to make sure it was perfect! But I hope it’s to your liking!” I spoke carrying out the food on two platters. I set them down on the table and removed their coverings. I served Ryan first, then Elizabeth, next Martin, and finally Walter. I then took some food for myself, but didn’t plan on eating any of it. After all, it wasn’t exactly the steak the invitation promised.

I watched as they took bites of the “steak” and smiled gleefully, waiting to see their reactions. “My ma’am, this is mighty fine. I daresay, the best steak I’ve had!” Walter spoke naively. What he didn’t know was that this “steak” was actually the last dinner party’s guests.

“Why thank you Walter, I’m glad you enjoy it!” I said getting up, “A toast. To new friends!”

“To new friends!” everyone except Ryan who just held up his cup. They all took a drink and I knew that the powder in the drinks would take effect within a few minutes. As the dinner continued, Ryan fell asleep first. Elizabeth had panicked, but only for a minute as she too passed out.

“What did you do to them?” Martin asked, sluggish and slurring his words. He tried getting up, perhaps to attack me, but fell down.

“Well since you asked so nicely, I’ll tell you. You see, I am what you consider a sociopath. Any emotion you’ve seen me emit is actually just a façade. Frankly, I don’t feel any emotion at the thought of your death that will be arriving soon. I think this time I’ll burn this farm house down with you all inside. And if the police come, well I’m a very good actor as you can tell,” I said, no longer putting on a false face.

“You’re insane!” Walter cried before falling asleep like the rest. With him asleep, the next part of my plan could take place. The bodies were fine where they were, I wasn’t worried that they’d wake up either. I used quite a bit of that special sleeping powder.

I turned the gas oven back on, not igniting the flames to allow the gas to spread throughout the house. I then grabbed my match box and stepped outside. Outside there was a barn that I had a can of gasoline that I could pour to avoid being too close to the flames and possible explosion.

Grabbing the gas can from the barn, I poured some out on the porch and made a trail behind me as I walked. Once the can was empty, I lit the match and dropped it on the ground. As the match left my hand, I took off running, not an easy task in a dress mind you. I then heard an explosion as the house went up in flames. Continuing to run towards my car, I started thinking of the next location for my dinner party.

[randomwritingsofluna]

Dice.

Explanation of the World

Strange, powerful things are amidst the world. Some give you the chance to save yourself from death. Some are possessed by ancient beings wanting to cause chaos. Some are letters delivered to you from points of time telling you to go places. Others are attractions with vengeful beings protecting the innocent and punishing those they deem to be guilty. Some are more docile, like eggs hatching creatures that shouldn’t be possible. This is a story of one of those items. Similar to the first, except instead of saving someone from death, it allows the user to relive one moment of their life, but unbeknownst to the user, they must then live their life all over again to that point, unable to change anything that happens.

End Explanation of the World

I decided to go on a walk, expecting nothing out of the ordinary, just a way to clear my head and maybe reduce all the stress I’ve been under. And while I was walking, the most extraordinary thing happened! And by extraordinary, I really mean absolutely nothing out of the ordinary happened and I went home, with my head a little less foggy, not much but it was something. My back was hurting was mainly the reason I went home, that and I started to get lost in thought a bit too much and was starting to daydream while walking. I barely felt my phone as my mom called, wondering when I was going to be home and how I was doing. I must’ve been a sight to see. Wandering aimlessly, a blank look on my face, and probably almost falling over due to the fact that I have very little balance. But I got to thinking about my friends from Missouri before I moved.

It’s been five years since I’ve seen them. I had to leave the last day of my 7th grade year, immediately after school let out. Seems like it’s been even longer, especially when I spent two years not in contact with my best friend of almost 9 years now. Makes me feel old, knowing that almost half my life I’ve been friends with him and I can still remember clear as day the first day of 4th grade when our friendship started.

I’d relive that day in a heartbeat, just to see him again. Even though I’ll be seeing him again soon. Though so much has changed. Not just appearances, but our lives. We both went through some things that shaped us to who we are now. I might have gone through some more extreme things, but that doesn’t mean the things he went through aren’t as important. Just means we’ve had to grow in different ways at different times and will continue to do so. Though he also planted the seeds for a lot of things I now enjoy and I’ve done the same.

  One of these seeds is Dungeons & Dragons. I often will go online looking at different dice, table mats, expansion books, and anything else I can find. Sometimes I’ll go to some stores and look around. This is where the story truly begins.

A few days after my walk, I went out again. I had been looking around a game shop and saw a 20-sided die that called to me. The die was an obsidian black, with marble white numbers. Seeing as it was in the bin for bargain dice, where you could find an assortment of dice that never really went together. Usually they were pretty ugly, but not this one. I picked it up and brought it to the counter. “Excuse me,” I said trying to get the cashier’s attention, “Why was this die in the bargain bin?”

 “Huh?” the man working the cashier had a blank on his face then realized what I meant, “Oh! I couldn’t tell you honestly. I just put the stuff out,” he joked. It got a small, if a little forced, laugh out of me. “If that’s everything for you, that will be ten cents.” I handed him a dime and headed out of the store with a new-found die.

The entire way back home I had been thinking of which dice set I should use it with. I started thinking out loud, “Well there’s the red dice, it could be my two favorite colors together. Though it might like good with the purple set. The black set wouldn’t work, those dice aren’t dark enough and the etching color on the dice wouldn’t match. Don’t need a black and blue set, that’s just bad jokes waiting to happen. My green set would look horrible with this one.”

My mom became curious about my ramblings because I was walking around the die in my hand, fidgeting around to calm my anxiety from the conversation with the cashier, “What are you saying?”

“I’m just trying to figure out what dice I want to use my new one with! Think I’ve figured it out though!” I replied, deciding upon the purple.

“All right. Glad you figured it out.” With that, I walked back to my room, ready to put the new die in with the bag of purple dice. Upon entering my room, I bent down to grab my bag holding all the bags of my dice, when I dropped the obsidian die on the floor. I looked over as it left my hand and hit the ground. Then with a hiss, I heard an eerie, ghost-like voice say, “Your wish is granted.” Before I could question what was happening, I felt pain shoot throughout my body, as the world seemed to get bigger.

 “Wait a minute,” I thought, “The world isn’t getting bigger, I’m getting smaller!” I only realized this because I looked down at my hands and watched as they started getting smaller.  The ring that was on my finger was gone, the clothes I was once wearing were also gone, I was now wearing something I might’ve worn from elementary school, they were too small to be the ones from. I then reached for my glasses, expecting the frames on my face, but instead found the wire glasses I used to wear. I blinked a few times and saw that I was no longer in my room, well I was in my room, except it was the wrong room. It was my old room.

I looked around a little more before my eyes felt like they were going stiff and I slowly felt myself lose control over my body. I was back in Missouri, with my green and blue walls, getting ready for school. I became a spectator in my own body, watching as I moved despite my best efforts to stop and look around. Whatever I was doing, I was clearly in a hurry to do it, I seemed excited about something. Eventually, my little body finished getting ready, for whatever and I headed outside with my sister, who looked so much younger that I wanted to cry. Then my mom brought us outside and started taking pictures of us with our backpacks. “First day of school, that explains some excitement. But what year is this?” I thought to myself, though I don’t think the younger me could even hear my thoughts.

Finally, I started moving again, heading down the road to the school at the end of the road. “Okay, this helps with some idea of a time frame. It’s either 3rd or 4th grade, though overall it doesn’t help me know what to expect.” My question of what grade I was in at the time was answered by my mom who asked if I was ready for 4th grade. Things started clicking into place.

 It was the first day of 4th grade, meaning a lot of things. One, the only friend I had nearby was my sister. Two, I was about to make some more friends. Three, I was going to make a best friend. Four, apparently that die “granted my wish” of wanting to go back to 4th grade to see my friend again.

I walked into the school and sat down in the cafeteria, where the principal introduced herself, I groaned at having to see her again. She was a nutjob and I was not looking forward to dealing with her again, even if it was only for a day. At one point in the future, she would lock a parent in her office and block the door, refusing to let her leave during some argument. Police ended up getting called and had to settle the situation. Like I said, nutjob.

 After we were all dismissed, I walked with the rest of my class to the classroom where I would spend the rest of my year. I had seen her at my previous elementary school before, but I left before I ever possibly had her class. Her name was Mrs. McQuarry, actually her name was Roxie, but I wasn’t allowed to call her that. She introduced herself and told us a bit about what we were going to be doing all year. It was certainly surreal being back at a small table with other kids, having an idea of how they were going to be when they were older, who I would still talk to, who I wouldn’t, yet none of them knew. I wouldn’t be able to tell them either. Having looked around the room every so often, I got glimpses of my future best friend, each time wanting to run up to him. But still unable.

The day went on, I felt excited, waiting to meet him all over again. Knowing that my nine-year old self had no idea the kind of person he was about to meet and become friends with. Finally, lunch came. If you could make excitement into a liquid and pour it out of someone, I would’ve filled a swimming pool at least. I sat down at the table for my class, sitting near the end because I was too shy to be around anyone. I then heard an all too familiar voice, “Is someone sitting here?” I turned around, shaking my head to the boy who was extremely tall to me, at the time, and watched as he sat down. “I’m Jacob, thanks for letting me sit here.”

I wished so badly I could’ve moved on my own, wanting to reach out and scream, hugging him tightly, saying how much I had missed him. Instead I introduced myself and initiated the conversation that would lead to our friendship. I had never felt so powerless as I tried moving my arms, my lips, anything to try and tell him what I really wanted to. But I couldn’t. I had to watch with excitement, for seeing my friend after five long years, and sadness, for being unable to do anything to tell how him how much I’ve missed him. The day continued on and our friendship grew more and more.

 After lunch came recess, where we didn’t really play on the playground. Instead we got to know each other more. He told me things I already knew, things I know that would change, and some that would never change. I felt like I was meeting up with an old friend who had amnesia and I was paralyzed.

When school was over, I told my mom about my day, how I made a new friend who was into almost all the same things as me, how much I enjoyed the day and how excited I was for tomorrow. In truth, I just wanted to go back to my life and be in control, talk to the Jacob who knew me, the one who was going to hug me back and still be much taller than me despite all the time passed.

I expected when I went to bed that night to wake up again in my room, a senior in high school, continuing on with my school life. Instead, I woke up to the second day of 4th grade. Then the third, then a week, then a month. I was well beyond worrying, if I had any control over my body, I would’ve been screaming to find out how to get back to where I was in life before all of this. Instead, I had to watch my life like I was watching a movie I had seen before, unable to change things when I knew they would go wrong. A year passed. I was in 5th grade and I had given up any hope of ever leaving of this endless time loop. I had to relive some of the best and worst parts of my life.

The best parts sometimes wanted to make me cry. A few of them had my dad in them, though in my time he passed away my junior year, every time I saw him, I wanted to hug him more than I wanted to hug Jacob. Every time there was an argument, I wanted to work it out. Any time he said he was going somewhere and wondered if I wanted to go, I wanted to go just to spend a bit more time with him. But I wasn’t allowed to it seemed.

 The worst parts always made me cry, or at least the closest I could come to it. One of the worst parts about being stuck in your own body unable to move, knowing what’s going to happen, is there’s no one there to comfort you specifically. I had to comfort myself, use comfort that I knew would come, or try and suppress it. Memories that I once had locked away were revealed to me again, meaning I would once again experience the trauma that came with it.

 More and more years passed. I eventually reached the age of eighteen again. I may have been eighteen when I left, but mentally I had aged another nine years and was technically twenty-seven. The day when I bought that accursed die came closer and closer. I had years to wonder what would happen and I still wasn’t sure on what would happen.

Would I be free? Would I experience it over and over again? Would I still drop the die and instead have that version go through what I just went through? And what would happen if I was freed? Who would actually believe that I went through this?

 Eventually the day came. When I walked into the store, I was screaming to just walk out and not even bother with the dice. You’d think after nine years, I would’ve learned that screaming at myself when I’m not in control will get me nowhere. But I’m stubborn. I still bought the die and I still brought it home.

As I got closer and closer to the moment of dropping the die, I felt strange, I tried looking at my hand and noticed my eyes moved towards my hand as I lifted it up for apparently no reason. “Perhaps I can stop this! I just have to catch that die before it falls or not drop it at all!” I thought, though the other me never heard. Walking through the door to my room, I realized it was now or never. If I didn’t stop that die from falling, this would happen all over again possibly.

I bent down and I felt the die slip from my hands. I screamed, “No!” Instead of my body not reacting, I turned towards the die and fell on my chest and stomach, catching it. My mom then came rushing into my room wondering what happened and if I was okay. With tears in my eyes, I looked for a safe place to put the die so it wouldn’t fall and settling on a place on my bookshelf, I hugged her tightly.

“Not that I’m against you hugging me, but it’s a little tight. Did something happen?” she asked, the look of worry written all over her face. I was too busy crying to say anything. I just nodded my head as I buried my head in the top of her shoulder, not wanting to discuss everything that had happened. “Do you want to talk about it?” I shook my head no, still buried in her shoulder. “Okay. As long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters.”

After a few minutes I let go of her and told her that I was fine and had just been daydreaming and got lost in it. Told her it was “kind of like a nightmare.” But once I calmed down a bit and looked around, moving almost every muscle in my body just because I could now. I then grabbed the die and headed outside, grabbing my hatchet, some lighter fluid, and a lighter. I spent almost half an hour chopping down branches off of trees, not wanting it to be noticeable that I cut something down with the intent to burn. I went back inside and gathered some paper to help with the kindling I chopped earlier. Heading back outside, with paper in hand and the firepit prepped, I set down some of the paper after crumpling it and placed it in the firepit strategically to get the flames to spread for a bigger fire. I had some extra kindling that would help keep the fire hot and if need be I could always sneak a log from the log pile for the winter.

 Once I felt that the fire was hot enough, I threw the die into the flames. It was either this or return it for ten cents and let it continue possibly wreaking havoc on people. I watched as the flames overtook the die until it started breaking apart, turning into ash. Once the fire died down and the embers cooled, I cleaned the firepit up and buried the ashes in a shallow grave in some random spot in the backyard. Leaving no indication that I buried it there, I walked back to the house ready to clean myself off, make some tea, and forget the whole ordeal ever happe

[randomwritingsofluna]

The Monster Hunter

It’s no secret that there are monsters among us. Vampires, werewolves, zombie-like creatures that the government has yet to give an official name, reapers, and some spirits of the dead. As such, the world needs people to hunt them down to protect us all. As time has gone on, their numbers have dwindled, but they still exist and are a major problem. They walk among us, eat with us, laugh with us, and all sorts of mundane things. No one says it, but we’re all on edge around each other. Your neighbor could actually be a werewolf waiting for a full moon to kill you and your family.

Everyone is afraid, save those who aren’t suicidal or insane. Some of those people who aren’t afraid though become hunters. Some who are afraid become hunters, wanting to protect their loved ones and everyone who isn’t a monster. It’s a well-respected job, but one that no one has retired from. No one lives long enough to retire when you’re a hunter. Another thing unspoken. Though there are those like me, who never wanted to become a hunter, but got enlisted through the draft.

After the governments of the old world settled their differences after the discovery of monsters, they became one government and one nation. We had achieved world peace through a common threat, everyone wanted world peace, just not this way. And as time passed, there weren’t enough hunters, a draft was made, like the one that had existed in the U.S. before they, like the rest of the world, disbanded as a country. Once someone turned 16 they could be enlisted to become an apprentice hunter. If they weren’t needed, they had they option to leave the life behind. But some, ever got that choice and had to become hunters. That’s what happened to me.

My master was an old woman, never telling me her name, just that though she was old enough to retire, she knew that her time was coming soon. Hence why she chose to have an apprentice, I was to be her replacement. I was basically a replacement part in a machine, it was obvious to me. I would watch as she showed me how to use a stake, her gray hairs flying around as she moved and thrusted her arm. She was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, being deadly to not just monsters but to humans if she felt the want to do so.

Normally, she would take me on small hunts, maybe a vampire attacking a few people around a small town, killing some of them, but mainly injuring them. Today however would be different, today she was taking me on a large-scale hunt. I was going to destroy a nest of vampires by myself, with her helping only if she felt that it was necessary.

I had become just like her, a killing machine. Not as strong as her yet, but that’s what she was working towards. Getting me to become as strong as her to help protect the world. The old woman trained me on how to use a stake, guns, knives, swords, daggers, any and all weapons she could come up with. If I was to be a proper hunter, a forced one at that, I would need to know how to fight with anything, if I wanted to live.

As we walked towards the location of the nest, she explained to me the details. “This particular nest is run by a vampire who goes by the name of Vlad, after Vladimir the vampire. He seems to have adopted the old clichés of what we imagined vampires as. Even has his own coffin that he sleeps in. As stupid as he may sound, Vlad is extremely dangerous. He and the inhabitants of his nest have killed thousands over the past few years alone. And that’s just the ones we know about,” the old woman croaked out. As she spoke, I could see her tongue slip in between holes where teeth should’ve been. More than likely, she lost them from fights. She was strong, not invincible.

I didn’t talk on the way there, I didn’t talk much around her when we went on hunts. I always felt uneasy talking on the way there. I tried it once on my first hunt with her and when she didn’t reply as I asked a question, I found it best to just keep my mouth shut. I didn’t need to talk though, we had gone over the plan before we left. I was to sneak in while they were asleep, they’d have guards set up to watch over the nest’s grounds, they would have to go first. After they were taken care of, I would take out those asleep in their quarters. Vlad would be much easier to face alone and as such, would likely be the last.

I made quick work of the guards. Thanks to my training, I was able to take them down without any problems. The quarters in which almost everyone slept was also easy enough. The only vampire left was Vlad, and barely 10 minutes had passed. When I came upon his room, I was surprised to see children’s toys and as I opened the coffin where the final vampire slept, I saw not a man as I expected, but a child.

Vlad was just a child. He must’ve been no older than 10. This was who was causing all these deaths? And I had to kill him? It seemed so wrong. He was just a kid, did he really deserve death, even if he was one of these monsters and supposedly orchestrated the deaths of thousands?

I didn’t hear her walk up behind me, when she put her hand on my shoulder, I nearly jumped out of my skin. The stake fell out of my hand and was about to drop to the floor clattering when she caught it. She gave me a look of understanding. It seemed that this wasn’t her first time having to make such a decision.

When the old woman handed me the wooden stake, pointed to the black coffin, and waddle away in the darkness, I knew what I had to do. I closed my eyes as I plunged the stake down into Vlad’s chest. He awoke gasping for air as I struck him. Wanting to cry, I pushed harder until I felt the stake go through the rest of his tiny body. As I removed it, I saw that I struck him right in the heart. The heart that was once pulsing blood through a 10-year old boy’s body, now no longer existed. It was then that I started crying and walked out of the nest.

My master had finished setting up bundles of wood, with the intent of burning the nest to the ground. “Where’s the body?” is all she asked me, I promptly went back without a word to retrieve Vlad’s lifeless corpse. More tears streamed down my face as I picked him up and carried him out. She had gathered the rest of the bodies of the vampires, they would be one of the sources of fuel for burning the nest.

As the night and fire raged on, I finally found the courage to speak. “Does it get easier? You know, when there’s children who are monsters?” She continued staring at the fire as it burned, seemingly lost in thought or the past.

“I wish I could tell you it does. I really do,” is all she said. We didn’t speak the rest of the night. Just watched the fire of corpses burn on throughout the rest of the night until sunrise. There’s a reason a lot of hunters don’t enjoy their job, I found out that night that the children who were monsters were just one of those reasons.

[randomwritingsofluna]

The Greenhouse

The invitation I had received had gave me no clues as to who or what sent it. It was typed, Times New Roman font and 12 point. The paper that it had been printed on was old though, it was yellowing and felt like it would crumble in my hands if I wasn’t careful. The ink letters were fading, making it hard to read, but not impossible. When I first got it, I considered throwing it away, but when I saw that it was addressed to me and that it was written ten years ago, at least according to the date, my curiosity got the best me and I bit the bullet.

It read, “Dear Tristan, please go to the following address on the day you receive this letter. 406 Weston Avenue. It will be in the town you’re living in, that I can guarantee, regardless of your location. Thank you for cooperation.” That was it, just three vague sentences that gave me no details on what to expect or why I was going there. I waited three hours, debating on whether or not I should go. I remembered the saying, “Curiosity killed the cat.” It could mean my death, but then I remembered the rest of the phrase, “But satisfaction brought it back.” I was left with two options, go and see this place with the possibility of death, or not go and face uncertainty for the rest of my life if I should have gone.

By the third hour, I had made my decision, I would go to the address, just to satisfy my curiosity, even though it may be my untimely death. I decided to not drive my car, instead choosing to ride my bike, which was a bright red, ten-speed, and had a bell just for kicks and giggles. I started pedaling down the street with a map of the town in my back pocket. I didn’t even pedal for ten minutes when I reached my destination.

 I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised that it was so close by and I had never noticed before. You think you’d notice a greenhouse, that wasn’t exactly green as all the plants inside were dead and wilting, for quite some time at first glance.

Gingerly stepping into the greenhouse, I saw another sheet like before on the ground. The mystery from before just stretched further and spiraled into an abyss of questions, theories, and overall concern for my well-being. My surroundings consisted of overgrown vines, dirt on the floor, and plants that had clearly tried holding onto life, but were so neglected they didn’t survive. I then picked up the note, and became lost in the words.

“The test of the ages. You are not the first. Though you may be the last. A simple task, in terms of words, awaits you: survive. Ask no questions. Survive. If you do so, destroy this place. Above all, trust your instincts.”

The words were certainly in an archaic fashion, yet were typed in a modern style. I still haven’t made sense of it to this day, though I hope to in the future. When I looked up from the picture, I saw the plants began to move. It certainly seemed impossible, though with my current days, I think of nothing as impossible anymore. The vines that were overgrown were the first to regain life, and thorns it seemed. Then the plants closer to the ground sprang to life, all of them moving towards me at once at quite an alarming speed.

I didn’t know what to think or do. I started asking myself questions when words echoed in my head, “Ask no questions.” I don’t know why I thought of that at a time like this, perhaps destiny had other plans for my death and it didn’t seem to want it to be here. Once I removed any questions from my head, my instincts suddenly felt heightened. They were telling me to grab the vines, though I was sure they’d hurt me more than anything. The thorns were quite large and clearly sharp, like they’d cut me just by looking at them.

“Above all trust your instincts.” My arms outstretched as the vines reached towards me and my hands clasped them. I was expecting blood to come from my hands due to the thorns, but I found that the thorns weren’t really there and was just a hallucination. Smiling, I yanked them down from the walls, a loud screech of pain sounded throughout the greenhouse. Almost as if it was alive.

As I pulled on the vines, I saw them coming out from the greenhouse’s walls like they were organs and the more I pulled, the more the greenhouse screamed. Once I removed the vines, my instincts told me to use my lighter and drop it on the floor.

The thing was, I knew I didn’t have my lighter on me, I left it at home since I found no reason to need it. Though, I already knew to trust my instincts and not ask questions, so I reached for my back pocket where I usually keep all my lighters, expecting nothing, I found the silver lighter there. Surprised, but remembering the situation at hand, I flipped it open and dropped it to the floor and rushed out of the greenhouse.

The screams now seemed faint as I watched the building burn to the ground. The vines and plants acted like gasoline to the fuel and the whole building was now in orange flames. I watched as humanoid shadows ran around and appeared to be the voice of the screams. Except, I didn’t feel bad for them, almost like I knew they weren’t actually human. I thought they might be some monsters.

The flames lasted throughout the night and I stayed and watched, transfixed by the beauty of the dancing flames and to make sure that the building and its inhabitants were gone for good. Once they did stop, I saw another note on top of the ashes. It was burnt at the edges and covered in ash.

“You have done well. You were not the first. But you are the last. Now your life is at a crossroads. Will you choose to live your old life with no knowledge of the greenhouse? Or will you choose to fight these demons that exist throughout all of time?” It was definitely the least cryptic of all the notes, and gave insight as to what actually happened.

I didn’t know how to make the choice. I wanted to continue doing this, stop these demons and keep people safe. Days went by, I was worried that the maker of the notes would think that I wouldn’t want to help. Then yet another note arrived, this time when I woke up from my bed, I had been dreaming of the greenhouse again, and it was on my nightstand with a new lighter, just like my old one, except this one had an inscription, but was written in something that I couldn’t understand, and the note read, “The time has come. Make your choice. To do so is simple. Burn the weapon with this note to continue your old life. Burn this note to see a new, unknown world.”

Grabbing the lighter, I immediately burned the note, not even bothering to go outside. Instead of disappearing, it instead turned into a new note. “Your choice has been made. Your weapon of choice from the greenhouse is now your calling card. Strike fear into their hearts. And above all, trust your instincts.”

Nowadays, I can recognize the places that are everywhere in time at once and in every location at once. Each time, I burn them to the ground, though the greenhouse was child’s play compared to what I’ve faced now. The inscription on my lighter is now something I can understand, “Burn with your Brethren.” A fitting inscription I believe. As for the author of the notes, they are like these demons. They exist in every time and in every location, though not everyone accepts the challenge and those who do don’t tend to make it. I was one of the few who have survived the challenge. Of those few, fewer wanted to continue on with the lifestyle.

It is a lonely life, I now exist in all of time too like the author of the notes. I exist in every location, you may have seen me and gotten a sense of déjà vu, though unable to place who I am. But above all, I trust my instincts.

[randomwritingsofluna]

Just a Thunderstorm

I watched the news today, but I never saw anything about storms coming. It was going to be a bit cloudy, but no forecasts of rain. I sighed as the dark clouds rolled in and the heavens opened up, usually I brought an umbrella with me, but of course the day I didn’t bring one it started to rain. The best I could do was grab my jacket collar and hold it up to prevent more rain from falling on me. Everyone else had gone inside or just stayed home it seemed. No one was around, just me and Mother Nature now.

I had barely started on my walk home, when suddenly a loud crack of lightning sounded around me. I admit I jumped and screamed due to being startled. But it was after the lightning is what was weird. The lightning struck pretty close to me, so I could easily see what it looked like. It left the grass black and dead, but also a deep, thin crack. I was about to look closer when suddenly something glinted in the crack, I instinctively stepped away as metal tends to attract lightning. As suspected, lightning struck the area once again, leaving more dead grass and making the crack larger. I thought whatever metal that was in there surely was destroyed, so I decided to investigate carelessly. It took me a minute before the metal glint was there again. I jumped back, out of fear of being struck and surprise that it had survived the lightning. Then the lightning struck again. And again, and again, over and over, each time opening the crack more and more. As the crack got larger, whatever was in there started coming out more, but I didn’t care what it was, I just wanted to get away from it as soon as possible.

Running through the streets, the rain didn’t let up, if anything it poured harder and harder. Normally, when it rains this hard it’s over in a few minutes, except this had been going on for longer. I couldn’t give an exact time; my best guess would have to be thirty minutes. The strange crack had me transfixed for quite a bit and it was almost as if time itself had sped up. I heard one last crack of lightning and it was louder than any of the other bolts before it. Looking back whilst I was running, I saw myself standing there. Except, my body was rapidly aging until it turned to a skeleton and then dust.

I didn’t dare look back after that, but as I turned my head, I saw another me right in front of me. The same process as before happened, except this one tried moving and touching me. I ran harder than I ever had in my life, but they just kept appearing. All of them tried reaching out for me, but only one talked. It didn’t say anything in any language I knew, but it felt foreboding and ominous. I fell onto the ground after this one, then all these things of me started moving closer and closer, until one of them grabbed me, the aging for it had stopped, it started to reverse actually. But as it did, I saw myself starting to age rapidly. My once young twenty-three-year-old body now was aged to my forties. More arms started to reach out for me and grab me, all of them started to reverse the rapid aging, but I started aging faster and faster. I was afraid I’d turn to dust, except I never even turned into a skeleton.

Instead, my body just continued to age, my body might as well as have been a skeleton with how thin I had become. Finally, the hands stopped. They all left me lying there, gasping for help with my now frail body. During all of this, no one had come outside, the rain never let down, the lightning had calmed down some, but still could be heard from miles away. My body and now too large clothes were drenched, what few strands of my hair remained stuck to my head.

I was going to die here, I just knew it. I was going to die without having lived my life to the fullest. And wondering what that strange metal in the ground was. Thinking of the metal, I started to crawl as best as I could to the spot where I found it.

After the agonizing crawl, I saw the hole, it stopped growing since the lightning stopped striking it. There in the center of the hole, was a small pendant on a necklace chain. It was just within reach of my bony arm, I was barely able to grab ahold of it. But somehow, I managed the difficult task. Inspecting it, I saw that it had a note inside of it. Things couldn’t get any worse, so I opened it, with some difficulty. I held onto the pendant with one hand and the note in the other. It read, “Put me on for a second chance.”

Apprehensively, I put the pendant on. When suddenly, the ground beneath me opened up, making me fall in. Then it started to close in on me, pushing me towards the center. I was so weak, I couldn’t scream or move. Though I tried. I saw the last bits of light disappear from my vision as the ground closed up and filled itself. I was going to suffocate, what did I expect with the recent events? I closed my eyes and accepted fate.

 I watched the news today, but I never saw anything about storms coming. It was going to be a bit cloudy, but no forecasts of rain. I sighed as the dark clouds rolled in and the heavens opened up, usually I brought an umbrella with me, but of course the day I didn’t bring one it started to rain. The best I could do was grab my jacket collar and hold it up to prevent more rain from falling on me. Everyone else had gone inside or just stayed home it seemed. No one was around, just me and Mother Nature now.

I had barely started on my walk home, when suddenly a loud crack of lightning sounded around me. I admit I jumped and screamed due to being startled. But it was after the lightning is what was weird. The lightning struck pretty close to me, so I could easily see what it looked like. It left the grass black and dead, but also a deep, thin crack. I was about to look closer when suddenly something glinted in the crack, I instinctively stepped away as metal tends to attract lightning. This felt way too familiar. More than a sense of déjà vu, I’ve definitely experienced this before. I looked closer at the metal, not caring if more lightning was going to come, I had to know. There was a small pendant on a necklace chain.

Suddenly the memories from my previous life rushed back to me, I realized that the pendant had done as it promised. I had been given a second chance and I wasn’t wasting it this time. I took off into a full sprint, not staying to watch what happens next. I heard the lightning crash down on the pendant just as before. This time however, I had experience on my side.

I knew the ground was splitting apart and there would soon be those strange versions of me again. I didn’t stop running, even when my lungs felt like they were on fire and my body was begging me to stop and catch my breath. I wouldn’t stop until I knew I was safe. I made the mistake of looking back and saw the rapidly aging versions of me getting closer, though they were still a good distance away. I saw a few of them turn to skeletons and dust, but they seemed to keep on coming.

I pushed harder, though my lungs and heart felt like they were going to explode. But I knew I saw the edge of the storm, maybe if I got through there I’d be safe. I could still hear the other versions of me getting closer and felt the whiff of a hand near my back. The edge was no less than three feet away, I’d be safe soon, just had to avoid them a little longer.

Beyond the storm I couldn’t see anything, but it was either do this all over again by the aging process or try something different. I ran out of the rain and everything went white. A loud ringing filled my ears and I was completely disorientated.

When my vision returned, I was back in the park, except there were people around. Children were running around, cars zooming by on the street, people window shopping, and other such things. I looked down at my watch and saw that no time had passed. I was safe and free from the nightmare!

I knew no one would believe if I told them, I know I wouldn’t believe someone if they told me what I had just gone through happened to them. It’d just be known to me, but maybe I could inform the world somehow? Perhaps by telling a story I could tell everyone. They wouldn’t believe me, but at least they’d know my story.

[randomwritingsofluna]

I’ve been away for a bit so I’m going to just dump a lot of stories from high school on to here to make up for that