caliaest

[thetimeweaver]

A Proper Introduction

Hello! And welcome to my side blog, dedicated to all my writer musings. Check me out on my main blog @reshiramgirl88. 

So a little about me: My name is Kate and I am a bit of an aspiring writer hoping to be published in the near future. At the moment I don’t have major works I’m willing to share, because I am a dedicated to writing, editing, and finally finishing my novel The Sarah Conspiracy and its sequel The Collector’s Theorem.  

I go by the pronouns she/her. I’m 20 years (though 21 in October) and currently a junior in college majoring in Creative/Professional Writing and Psychology with a minor in Computer Sciences. I’ve been writing just about my whole life, though my earlier works are truly horrendous. I am an avid reader and tend to dwell in Young Adult section, simply because I think growing up is overrated and YA stories are so much more entertaining than adult. (Plus I want to be  a YA author, so I gotta stay up to date with the cools kids and see what they're reading days.) 

For some time I did write fanfiction, but I burned it all in a grand pile of angst and overused “said’s.” But now I am more open to writing my own worlds and creating my own characters (though they do tend to be literal children of chaos). And its all thanks to my favoritism towards morally gray characters and villains. Sorry I wasn’t a Disney princess type of girl growing up, the antagonists will ALWAYS be my favorite of the cast. (I blame Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo). Though the book that really inspired me to sit down and write my own stuff was Cinder by Marissa Meyer. 

At the moment I tend to write Sci-fy and read Fantasy, though you will see some contemporary works (once I get my butt in gear with posting stuff...). 

If you have questions, requests, hit me up. I’m always down to talk writing stuff.

[thetimeweaver]

NaNoWriMo!

Hey guys just as a little update, I'm actually doing NaNoWriMo this year! I've tried in years past (especially with the many drafts of The Sarah Conspiracy) but they all kinda flopped before I could even make it 10,000 words in. So I'm finally kicking my butt into gear and doing it. I actually already started so I wouldn't loose the momentum I already had by waiting until the end of October and I'm already 5,000 words down!

So that's all to say if you need a buddy to survive NaNoWriMo with, I'm your gal! Feel free to add me on the NaNoWriMo site. My handle is The Rogue of Ribellione!

Let's get writing!

[thetimeweaver]

Masquerade

There are many names for it:

Façade

Disguise

False face

We all wear them, no matter how much you deny it

Concealing, hiding, fabricating the very truth

That lies beneath

 When you reach the age of maturity

You are expected to wear the mask

From forehead to chin

It hides your face

Obscuring the truth that lingers below

 Keep your head leveled

Hide your face

Society doesn’t want to know

What lies beneath

All that matters

Is the lie they approve of

 A society

Built on the premise of a game

Lies are everything

The truth is nothing

Squash it beneath you

No one wants to see you

The you that lingers deep within

Smile

With just your teeth

Not your eyes

No one cares

About you

Your feelings

Your emotions

You are a shell

Nothing

So, act like it

 He wore his mask like a battle helm

A lion caught mid snarl

Giant and consuming

All that could be seen between its jaws

Were his eyes

Dull and dying

Oh, where dear lion,

Did your bravery scamper off to?

Shy and barely aware

The lion scared away all that tried

To frighten his lonely heart

 Her mask was barely noticeable

Wide and elegant

Like that of a gentle butterfly

Resting so delicately on her skin and bones

At first glance her mask wasn’t noticeable

She wore it proudly,

Like that of a bride showing off her

First wedding ring

But another glance

Another look

Her mask was there

Sometimes

She wore her face like she had her mask on

Always

  United and distinguished

Their battle helms are tall

Metallic

And matches their uniforms

People run in fear

Cowering away from their presence

After all

“It’s Dangerous

When too many men

In the same armor

Think they’re

Right”

  There are people of many faces

Always shifting

Always changing

Always taking on another mask

Sad, Happy

Angry, Tired

You never really know what beneath

Always wearing

Always deceiving  

Always lying to themselves

 Sit at a table

Deck in hand

Slip on the mask

Solid

Stern

Absorbing the skin and expression beneath

It’s the way of the game  

No one must know

No one cares

As long as they win

  My mask was snowy white

With loose lace reaching behind my head

Delicate and made of deceit

Eye slits barely big enough

to see the decaying world

And a placid mouth

that refused to move

 They say to give it time

We all grow into it

Eventually

But no matter how

Small I make my lips

High I keep my nose turned

Tight I slam my eyes shut

It would never fit

Not the way they want it to

  They try to strap it to my face

Replacing torn laces with chains

that rattle with each expression

The porcelain slowly broke away

Morphing into cold metal of expectations

Eyes wide

Nose turned down

And a smile that makes my entire face scream in pain

[thetimeweaver]

Bleeding Roses

My fingers gradually grow numb holding onto her favorite flowers, red roses. The room is tale and filled with distraught faces. They linger near the bed, constantly fighting with the concept that we all don’t fit. I want to cry, but I bite my lip and force myself to focus on erupting pain and blood. My mother’s hand hovers over my shoulder, keeping me in this endless torture known as reality. I don’t taste the familiar metallic-ness until she waves me over. My feet stick to the linoleum as a dozen glares shoot endless arrows into my sluggish body. Her eyes crinkle and a smile flutters to life under her oxygen tube. She reaches out for me with her only usable hand, silently begging for me to be her only ground in this abyss. My hand is trembling and my cheeks are stained when our skin meets. Her voice is hoarse and tiny, like she been screaming for her entire life. “I’m so proud of you.” Her grip tightens, chaining me to this one moment. “And I love you so much.” It all happens in slow motion, like watching a group of heroes walk away from an explosion. Shoes scrape against the floor and people are screaming, for her, for a nurse, for me. The flowers tumble out of my bleeding hands as my mother drags me away from the bed. My heart stops as my mind finally registers the sound of a heart monitor tangled in the depths of a never ending flat-line,

[thetimeweaver]

Character Sketch

Tall, but still shorter than her youngest grandchild. Eyes of a labyrinth, filled with chocolate and maturity. The years have forever scratched and pulled at her taunt and thinning skin. Signs of wear and tear mark every inch of exposed, silencing stories forever left untold. One arm and a stub, scars of a long-ago battle. Her back forever and permanently hunched over from one too many days plastered to the unevenness of a hospital bed. A sigh, created with the scent of cigarettes and grease. Her hair is short and layered with snow, perfect for the constant struggle that is her life. Sick and dying, always covered in bruises that never seem to go away. She clings to life, desperately wanting to stay long enough to see my sister graduate, but she quickly looses her grip. 

Its been 5 years. 

[thetimeweaver]

New username!

hey guys! just as a heads up! I changed my handle. I really liked @aplaceforthoughtsandstories despite how long it was. But I figured it was time to be #onbrand (lol not really) and claim the name before anyone else did. (mainly because I'm the one who came up with it)

So hi! I'm therogueofribellione

[thetimeweaver]

Breaking

This was supposed to be her big break. A break from reality. A break from her mother. A break from everything that once held her back. But things were not exactly happening as planned.

“Do you have everything you need?” Her mother asked with a voice high strung and filled with worry as she slammed the car trunk closed. The two, Ella and her mother, were standing outside the freshman dorm of All-Star College, experiencing the frustration and devastation of the dreaded move-in day. It had taken them nearly half an hour to unpack and fill Ella’s assigned dorm room. Now all was left was the fated parting. Mother and child, finally going their separate ways.

         “Yeah, Mom.” Ella groaned, dancing on unsteady feet. She grabbed the handle of light-weight suitcase covered in an endless array of constellations and the never-ending abyss of space with a small set of wheels to relieve some of the burden of its contents. The handle was pulled to its tallest height, just barely reaching one’s hip.   She eyed her mother, leaning towards the entrance of the dormitory. And started towards the front door with her mother following close behind.

“Do you have your braces? Your extra castes?” Her mother said quickly, concern coating her voice as her steps quickened to keep up with her daughter. “What about the wellness center’s emergency contact? You have Dr. Clare on speed dial, right?”

Ella stopped and turned towards the one person who held the key to her freedom. “Yes, mom, I got everything I need and more.” She turned back towards the door.

“But, what about-” Her mother started, only to be interrupted by a loud, annoyed sigh.

“Mom, please. I’m gonna be fine.” She reached out and grabbed her mother’s shoulders, knuckles paling with effort. “I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“But Ella, your condition, I’m just afraid that you’ll…” She bit her lip, glancing between her only daughter and the door. So many uncertainties. So many possibilities. So many ways for such a fragile being to crack and break, shattering into a million undistinguishable pieces.

Ella stiffened. Her condition. How dare she call it that? Always breaking, always screaming, always crying. Always being restrained to the disastrous and stiff mixture of plaster and cotton. Only for it to be reduced to two simple, everyday words. Her condition. Osteogenesis imperfect.

Ella’s eyes slipped over her mother’s mask of worry then to the closed door. “Goodbye, mom.” She leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek, lips barely brushing against her mother’s skin. With a shaking hand, she reached over and turned the door handle and strode away into her new life.

The room was rather small, roughly the size of a utility closet. The air was heavy and smelled like stale bread and mold. Reaching with both her arms stretched out wide, Ella could easily touch both, oddly pinkish walls. They were made of stone and flaunted the idea of a masquerade of tape and posters. Provided solely by the college were the absolute essentials two young adults would truly need, beds, desks with accompanying rickety chairs that were on their last legs, a mini-fridge, and a microwave that smelled like leftover meatloaf. There was also a mirror, if you wanted to call it that. Shattered and long been discarded, it sat in Ella’s side of the room, waiting for someone put it back together. All of Ella’s belongings were piled up on her side of the room, just in case her roommate decided to show up before she was completely done unpacking it all.

“Well, home sweet home, I guess.” Ella said, a frown sewn tightly onto her nude lips. She strode over to the shattered mirror and picked up a fragment, watching as the sharp edge silently dug into her paling skin. A droplet of blood leaked out of the wound, like a dew drop slipping off the edge of a sweating radiator. Finally registering the sudden pain, she dropped the piece, watching as it crashed and shattered against the concrete.

  She was standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed tightly over her stomach. Tears dotted her forest green eyes as her brunette hair fell onto her face. “Who am I kidding? I cannot do this.” Ella slowly sunk to her knees. “What if I break? What if I shatter? Who will pick up all my pieces?” Her eyes glared at the forgotten mirror, anger swelling in her throat.

Then came a knock, rapid and obtruding her storm of thoughts. Ella stood and walked towards the door, peeking out into the hallway to find a bright and eerily cheery face staring back at her. Covered head to toe in red with a dragon, the school’s mascot, costume consuming most of her body, was an older girl. “Howdy there,” the girl said, a southern drawl blanketing her words in dust and hot weather. “My name is Alessandra, but you can call me Aless if you would like. I am your RA.” She peeked into the room, taking in all the bareness and lack of readiness, she glanced down at her clip board and then back up at the room number printed on the door. “You must Ella Nichols.”

Ella’s fingers drummed along the door, waiting patiently for Alessandra to decide she was too boring to deal with and leave. “I am. Why? Is there a problem?”

Alessandra shook her head, “Nope, none at all my dear.” She paused, searching for the right, non-condescending, words. “It’s just that your mother made it very clear that you have a certain…” Another pause, smothering the already foul-smelling air with tension and unease. “Your mother wanted to make sure that I knew that your bones are little different form mine and hers.”

“They’re hollow.” Ella said, trying to ease the door closed ever so slowly. “Much a like a bird’s. But instead of allowing me to fly, they break.” Break, shatter, snap, cave in, Ella thought to herself, not daring to say the words aloud.

Alessandra shifted on her feet and clutched the clip board a little bit closer to her chest. “Well, you mother asked that I help you unpack, since you refused her aid.” She inched towards the door, attempting to pry it open just a little more so she could sneak through the crack.

“No thank you.” She said and pulled the door shut, wincing as the sound echoed around the room. A sigh escaped her lips as she placed her forehead against the cool wooden door. Just beyond was the sound of hesitant but retreating footsteps boomed down the hall. “Just because I’m a little different, does not mean I need extra help.” Her brow furrowed together as she snarled in disgust. “Why must mother always make a big deal out of it?”

She was left undisturbed for a total of three hours before being interrupted yet again by the rapping of knuckles against wood. Only this time, it was not the dragon lady, but rather Ella’s roommate. She was petite and scrawny, barely able to carry the large cardboard box that rested snuggly in her arms. Her hair was raven black and neatly braided down her back, barely reaching the top of her narrow hips. Black and blue spots slept snuggly under her caramel brown eyes, indicating the lack of sleep. Unlike Ella’s pale skin, the girl was tan and looked like she practically lived on the sun. She slipped through the door and hefted the box onto her bed. 

With a huff of breath, she turned and smiled at Ella. “That was a lot heavier than it looked, trust me.” The box barely made a dent in the bed’s conforming nature. “The name is Dianna, and yes just like Wonder Woman.” She struck the iconic heroine’s pose, crossing her wrists in front of her upper chest and gave Ella a fierce look. “What’s your name?”

“The name is Ella, like Cinderella, but without all the ashes.” She said, eyeing the girl warily. “My mother did not send you here, right?”

Dianna shot her a confused look, eyes narrowing. “Your mother, girl I have never met your mother in my entire life.” She paled as a thought crossed her mind. “No offense to her, of course.”

Ella quickly shook her head. “No, it’s just that she...” A groan slipped past her lips. “Nothing, just forget I said anything.”

Dianna shrugged, “Well, I gotta go get the rest of my stuff.” She headed towards the door. “Unless you want to help. My parents did not exactly have the time to see their youngest daughter, off. After all what is another move-in day compared the four others that came before it.”

Ella could feel her head bobbing up and down, eagerly. Then realization slowly sunk in. She could not help. She could not assist. She could not do anything without someone else helping her. Her eagerness died as it turned over into sadness. “I cannot, sorry.”

“Why not?” Dianna asked, the smile persisting to be a permanent part of her face. She glanced over Ella’s frame, taking in every detail. A pale blue sun-dress adorned her roommate’s frame, hanging loosely from her shoulders. Her green eyes were soft and a never-ending sight of apologies. “I do not see anything wrong with you, maybe a little on the skinny side. A little milk can easily fix that.”

Ella shook her head. “No, I have this thing. This condition.” The word felt like poison on her lips. “Where I cannot exactly do anything at all, without breaking. My bones are fragile and will snap like a twig if I’m not too careful.”

Dianna nodded, “Well, I guess that means you get off easy with carrying all the light stuff.” She held up her arms to show off her muscles. “Looks like I get to use these babies after all.”

Another smile ran across her roommate’s lips and Ella could not help but smile as well. “Well, I guess that beats carrying nothing.”

Walking arm and arm, the two strode out of the dormitory towards Dianna’s rusty orange punch-buggy. The interior was a messy array of dorm supplies and feminine essentials, such as high heels and packets of pumpkin-spiced coffee grounds. With arms filled with pillows and a random blanket, Ella was the first to arrive back to the girl’s dorm, only to find that the janitors had been by and cleared away the shattered mirror. She threw the pillows onto Dianna’s bed and sat on her somewhat assembled mattress, feeling weightless as she jumped onto it. The mattress springs groaned under her sudden weight. She kicked off her shoes and laid out, waiting patiently for Dianna to return.

The door slowly creaked out and there appeared Dianna, with tears streaking down her petite face. She bit her lip, trying to hold back a sob. Her eyes glazed over Ella as she slid to her knees.

“Dianna! What happened?” Without a moment of hesitation, Ella jumped from the bed. Only to be met with a sudden crack and then pain. Tears welled up in her own as eyes as her entire body folded in on itself, forcing her frame into the agonizing fetal position.

“Ella! What did you-?” Dianna raced to her newly-made friend’s side, hands hesitant hovering over her crumpled form. “What do I do? Who do I need to call? Ella! Speak to me!”

Just hold yourself together. Ella thought, keeping still so she would not become an endless pile of broken and tattered puzzle pieces. You knew something was going to go wrong. And now look at you. You’re nothing! Nothing but a mistake! Nothing but a burden! Who is going to pick you up now? You are just like that stupid mirror.

“Ella, I need you to listen to me.” Dianna whispered, voice suddenly clear of all emotion. Cold and tense, she sounded like the Amazonian warrior, as opposed to her meek and self-conscious side Ella had seen before. “I am going to carry you to the wellness center. If any time, it feels like I am hurting you. I need to know. Please do not keep secrets from me.”

Hands shaking like an old woman with arthritis, Dianna wrapped her arms around Ella’s breaking frame, trying her best not to cause any more damage that was sustained. “Where did you…” Break. The word clogged up in her throat, refusing to come forth. “Where does it hurt?”

“Legs. Lower legs.” Ella spat, barely able to keep the pain from splattering and staining her shaking voice. “Broken. Definitely broken.” She grunted as she was hefted from the peaceful ground to Dianna’s unsteady and bending back. “I’m so sorry. I must be the worst roommate in the world. Just when we were finally getting to know each other. I just had to go and break.”

Dianna laughed, bubbly and full of joy. “Do you know want to know why I was crying?” A pause, just enough for her to catch her breath as they trekked down the hallway towards the wellness center. “On the way back here, I realized something. For once in my life, someone has finally noticed me.” Another burst of laughter. “Wait that sounded better in my head. What I mean to say is that for once in my life, someone saw me for who I was. Not as the sister or the daughter, but as Dianna. Independent and fierce Dianna. And do you know who that someone was?” A smile spread across her lips. “It was you, my dear Cinderella. Now come on, let’s get your glass slipper fixed before our lovely RA decides to steal you away to the tower from whence you came.” 

[thetimeweaver]

About Me

Hi! You don’t know me and I don’t know you, but that’s okay. Welcome to a Tumblr dedicated to posting the many thoughts and stories I have throughout my days. These will vary from very personal things to awkward unfinished projects. There may or may not be the possibility of random fanfiction one-shots. Given I want to become a better writer, criticism is appreciated and accepted. And as a challenge I will take requests. 

Thank you. :)