Thursday, April 16, 2009

Grave Obsessions

Grave Obsessions
To fight evil you’ve got to use evil.

One
The puncture marks were deep, the flesh torn. The crimson blood had spilled all over the wound, running down the pale skin of my neck, making it look messier then it really was.
The thick poison was seeping through my veins, travelling at a painfully slow speed. Soon it would reach my heart, stopping it dead. It was burning its way through my body, slowly killing any and every human part of me.
The pain was unlike anything I had ever felt, my skin was burning, I felt like I was on fire, slowly melting apart with every passing second. My head pounded, my ears rang. I couldn’t even hear myself screaming, but I knew I was. It was so painful that I was being held down by two sets of arms, so distraught that I was fighting against my restraints, screaming so loudly my throat was dry, the sound felt like it was tearing apart my flesh just to get out.
That pain was nothing compared to the venomous liquid searing through my veins, burning me from the inside out, slowly destroying me, slowly taking away my life.
I was screaming so loudly I ran out of voice, I was in so much pain I had drawn blood from biting on my lips. My hands were bloody and sore from clawing at my skin, from pushing against my captors, from trying to escape.
All of my attempts to escape were futile. They had won, I was going to die, or worse, I was going to become one of them.
All the fighting I had done, my entire life, it was all wasted because of this very moment.

***

I sat bolt upright in bed, my head spinning, my body covered in beads of sweat. I ran my hands over my arms trying to extinguish the lingering feelings of the fire cursing through my veins.
It was a dream. It was only a dream. It all starts with a dream; everything always starts with a dream, a vision, a nightmare.
I ran my hands over my neck, feeling for any sign of the blood that had been trickling down it moments before, searching for the cuts, the puncture marks, the evidence. It was clean, there was no blood, no puncture marks, nothing.
It was a nightmare. It wasn’t real. It didn’t happen; there was no tangible evidence of me having even been touched.
I took several deep breaths, I needed to calm down, and I needed to clear the images out of my head. I needed to get rid of the feeling of the poison running through me, the poison slowly killing me, extinguishing everything human about me. It all felt so real, and the feelings were still lingering over me.
I ran a hand through my damp hair, trying to calm myself. My dreams were always filled with scary things, my nightmares always vivid, but they were never like this. They were never this real, they never felt like this, I could still feel the hands pinning me down. The scariest part of it all was that my dreams always meant something, I always dreamed things that were about to happen, or that were already happening. I was more than familiar with the feeling of ‘déjà vu’ or even ‘premonitions’. I didn’t consider myself psychic, more just intuitive.
I couldn’t shake the thoughts of that happening to me from my head. I had fought my whole life to stop that from happening to anyone, the thought of it happening to me made me feel sick. It made my stomach churn, and my mouth go dry. I was never going to become one of them; I will never let that happen to me, never. I would never become a vampire.
Vampires were the most filthy and evil things to roam this earth, they killed anyone and everyone. They had no morals, no ethics; they were simply evil creatures, damned for all eternity.
I had spent my entire life hunting and killing them, I had grown up loathing them. This life isn’t a normal one, especially for an 18 year old girl, but it’s my life and my destiny, I was called to live this life. I was one of the chosen few that had to live this life to protect everyone else. No one knows that while they sleep we roam the streets, protecting them and their dreams. While they sleep peacefully, unaware, we stop anything and everything from trying to harm them. We are the angels of the night, guarding them.
We are the protectors of the whole human race; we are the protectors of the good. We keep the creatures too evil for hell at bay.
I have seen more things in my life that you would never even know existed. I’ve seen things that would make you afraid to close your eyes again; I’ve done things that you couldn’t even dream about.
Why? Why do I do all this?
That’s simple. I do this because I was chosen; I do this because I am a protector, because I am an Infernal Guard, the slayer of the damned and the saviour of the innocent.
For centuries evil has plagued the earth, for centuries and you would have never known it. You would have never known it because of us, because we keep it from destroying your lives, we keep it from seeping into your life and destroying you. We’ve kept it out of history; we’ve kept it from your sights. We keep you safe.
I am one of the select few that are chosen to do this, one of the few who give their lives to protect the human race. I don’t know a life outside this, this is what I do, and this is who I am. This is what I was born to do. I am a protector of the innocent and a slayer of the damned. I know nothing else, I can dream of a life without this, but I don’t know how to live it.
This life is all I can remember, this lifestyle is all I know. I am trained to kill, I am trained to protect. My schooling didn’t consist of learning different mathematical equations, or writing poems, my schooling consisted of being trained how to fight, being taught history of evils you couldn’t even imagine, reading ancient stories. I know the history you know; only I know it better, I know more about it, and I know the truth.
I know all the same stories you do, all the same fairytales, myths and legends, but I know them better, I know the real stories, and I’ve seen more of them than you’ll ever know.
I know how to fight better than anyone you will ever know, I am stronger than you would think. Trained in combat by masters of the art, I can kill people with one hand. I know how to use weapons you didn’t even think existed.
We don’t use guns; guns are useless for what we fight. They are effective if you want to kill a human, a person with a heartbeat, but when you are trying to kill the undead they are useless. Shoot a vampire and nothing will happen, it would be like a scratch, healed within minutes.
The only way to effectively kill a vampire, in the quickest way, is to either chop of their head or strike him through the heart. Either way, when you are finished you have to burn the remains. If you fail to burn the remains then you probably failed to really kill the beast anyway. There are stories of people who forget to burn the bodies, forget to clean up their mess, most of those people go missing or wind up dead, and the vampire winds up killing more innocent people.
A vampire is hard enough to deal with, but a vengeful vampire is even worse. They have enternity to plot their revenge.

“Lilly?” I was snapped from my thoughts by a whispered voice shattering the silence. “Lilly are you awake?”

“Yes Marty” I replied, letting my body relax, letting myself breathe again. “I’m awake.”

“I thought I heard something” he said into the darkness, the need for whispering now gone. He flicked on the light at the wall, bathing the room with bright light. I let my eyes painfully focus and adjust to the new brightness of their surroundings. “A bad dream?” he asked.
Marty was always fishing for information from me. I was one of the only Infernal’s to get premonition like dreams, therefore he was always interested to hear about my nights dreams.
They didn’t always come true, my dreams, but more often than not they were a clue about something. They were always a starting point, or in some cases, an ending point.

“Something like that” I nodded, getting up out of my small bed and pulling on a jumper. I wasn’t in any hurry to replay this dream to him; I didn’t want him to get worried, or to start trying to get any big ideas about protecting me.
Marty was human, pure and simple. He wasn’t an Infernal Guard, nor was he a Guide to any Guards. He was simply a human who was caught up in our world. If it was my choice, I would have never let him get so involved in our world, but someone else did. He was 25, and he looked every bit his age. Years of pouring over books, staying indoors and worrying about friends had taken a toll on his appearance.
He was taken into our care after the brutal murder of his parents, which of course, the Guards had tried to stop. He was seven years old, the sole human survivor of the whole night. With no family left, and no idea about what he had just witnessed, Marty was distraught. He latched onto the only person he thought he could trust, he clung to one of the Guard’s there that night.
Ever since then he has been part of our world, studying everything we do. He wasn’t in any way physically strong like us, but he was smart, and he knew every myth, legend and book in our archive. He was, in many ways, important to us, as we were to him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked me, his pale skin glowing in the light of the room.

“Not right now” I shrugged, I didn’t want to talk about it ever if I could have my way. “What’s the time?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

“It’s a little after 5” he replied. “The sun’s set to go down at 6:39 tonight” he added.
The thing I loved most about Marty was the fact that he was like a brother to me, we had grown up here together, and we knew each other inside out. He was the closest thing to real family that I would ever have, everyone here was.

“It was time to get up anyway then” I replied, walking with him into the small kitchen. We all lived in a small house in the middle of town. We lived in a small town, where no one asked any questions. I attended the local high school, Marty worked at the local hardware store. We tried to make ourselves look as normal as possible, despite our anything but ordinary activities.
There were 6 people in total who lived in this house. Marty, myself, three other Guards; Tom, Phillip and Jessie, and our Guide; Isaac. I was the youngest in the house, and also the only female. It wasn’t unusual though, females were not normally called into this life. I was one of the few, if not the sole one.
Tom and Phillip were twins, and Jessie was their younger cousin. It wasn’t unusual for a family to have multiple members called up, it was pretty common. The Infernal Guard’s bloodline can be traced back to essentially come from three separate bloodlines, and only these three bloodlines. People outside these bloodlines were never called, they were never chosen, and they went about their lives oblivious to everything. This was embedded in our blood and our history. Every family has its secrets.
Most people who are chosen are orphans, like myself, but there are a rare few who actually still have living parents. Generally their parents know about the whole thing, they are generally part of the small order that works to keep everything secret and works towards keeping everything supplied and everyone housed. Without them, we wouldn’t be able to function; we wouldn’t be able to operate.
Marty put the kettle on and I sat down at the small table in the kitchen. Spread all over it was various newspapers, and books. Any hint of anything suspicious in the news and we would investigate it. Any hint of anything suspicious coming from our police contacts and we would investigate. We never took any chances.
One of the benefits from living in a small town is that strange news travels fast. If anything out of the ordinary happens, it always gets around.

“Hot chocolate or coffee?” he asked me. I scrunched up my nose at the thought of coffee; it was something I didn’t really like. I only ever drank it because I needed to be awake during the day, but I’d usually settle for any form of energy drink over coffee.

“Hot chocolate” I answered, letting my eyes skim over the papers in front of me.

“How was school today?” he asked me. I groaned, school was the bane of my existence. I had been trained from a young age, so my school with the Guard’s had almost finished, but my regular life schooling was still going. I was in my senior year. I only went to school to keep up the charade that we lived a normal life, to keep our existence secret. It was all just an act.
In truth, I didn’t pay attention in class and barely made any effort in any classes. I didn’t need to pay any attention. The things they were trying to teach me were of no value when I was out there saving the world. If I lived a normal life they might have come as some use to me, but I wasn’t.
I found the whole ritual of me attending school pathetic, everyone else found it amusing. They all loved the fact that I had to spend the majority of my days in a classroom while they got to sleep, train or do anything other than pretend they were learning. I had to complete homework while they got to play around with new weapons and toys. I hated school, so I guess in pretending to be a normal teenager, I fit in rather well.
Socially I was an outcast, not that it at all bothered me. The few friends I did have at school were nice enough, and they didn’t ask any questions as to why I would miss random days of school every now and then. It didn’t matter if I wasn’t popular at school, my school life was really not all that important to me. I cherished the few friends that I had, but it was safer for them if I didn’t get too involved in their lives and in turn they in mine.

“It was long” I replied. I hated having to get up at 7 almost every morning to go to school and not getting home til 3. It made staying up late like I do really rather hard. That was the reason behind my afternoon nap. When you have to be up at 7 but really can’t go to bed until the sun goes down there really isn’t much time for sleep. The boys were lucky in the fact that they got to sleep during the day, I however had to attend classes and make it seem like we were normal people. Although, I managed to adapt to the lack of sleep rather well.
The idea behind our unusual situation was that Isaac was my father, and the boys were all my brothers. Although we all didn’t really look that much alike, the fact that we all acted alike made the lie believable.
“It was long and boring Marty, I really can’t wait to be done with it. They keep telling these muted down versions of history, sometimes I wonder what they would do if they knew the truth” I added, skimming my hand over the hard leather bound book on the table.

“You know they’ll never know Lil” he replied. “They can’t know.”
It was true, they couldn’t know the truth, and they wouldn’t know how to handle it. It would be like telling the world that their worst nightmare was true. They were better off thinking that terrorism was their biggest threat.
That’s why we worked so hard at keeping things a secret. Can you imagine what would happen if it all got out? If people were suddenly aware that all the things they had read about in stories, all the evils they conjure up in the darkest pits of their minds was all true?
The world would erupt into chaos. People would no longer be able to function. Fear grips people in different ways, some people would try to fight, others would try to become vampires, and others would hide. Ultimately, they would all die. Normal humans aren’t equipped to deal with the sorts of things that I’ve seen. We were bred for this; we were made to defend them.
The vampires also try to keep a lid on things. They also seem to have a hierarchy under which they operate. It seems even the most evil people can have rules to live by. They are in no way as careful as we are, but they are not going around proclaiming to the world exactly who and what they are. In some ways life might be easier for them, but the fun would be taken out of it. Life is a game to them, and having everyone in on the game would not be as fun. Hunting is a sport and we are all but pawns in their existence. Or so they think.

“I know” I nodded. “It’s just I am sick of hearing these watered down versions of stories. I mean...I hate having to hear about things that aren’t true or that never happened.”

“You’ll be done soon Lil, then you can forget all about it” he soothed, bringing over two steaming mugs. One contained coffee and one hot chocolate, both their aroma’s filled the air. It was a comforting smell to wake up to.

“Are the boys all sleeping?” I asked into my mug, letting the hot steam warm my face.

“Yeah” Marty nodded in response, pulling a paper in front of him. “I don’t know what you did to them last night, but they are all exhausted.”

“I didn’t do anything” I smiled into my mug.
In truth, last night we ran training drills. Things had been slow of late, which of course was unnerving. It was like the calm before the storm.
When things died down we ran lots of training drills to keep each other prepared. Last night it was my turn to be the ‘bad guy’, and the boys hate it when it is my turn. I always make them work hard.

“Sure you didn’t do anything” mumbled Marty. I just kept smiling into my mug, the image of Phillip getting hit in the face and falling flat on his ass just kept flashing through my head.

“Oh good afternoon Lily” smiled Isaac walking into the kitchen. He was older than all of us, probably in his mid 50’s. I never asked his age, and he never gave out that information. He was our Guide, Phillip, Tom, Jessie’s and mine. His job was just that, to guide us, sort of like a mentor. He trained us, kept us in shape, kept us connected to the rest of the Guard’s around the world, and he researched the things going on in the area. He was kind of like a babysitter.
Marty and Isaac together made a perfect team, they both fed off each other. Isaac was the Guard that saved Marty, and between them was a bond that none of us could understand. We didn’t go through what they went through that night, and they are both reluctant to talk about it. I never pressed for details, they were both smart, if I needed to know something, they would tell me.
The great thing about Isaac, despite his greying hair and failing eyesight, he was once a Guard. Not many Guard’s get the chance to retire, but when they do, they become Guides. Who better to train and guide the new recruits then the people who have been there right?
Isaac was once a very well respected and successful Guard, well respected in the right circles. The puzzling thing to me was that he gave it all up, just stopped. He didn’t even become a Guide straight away; he disappeared for years taking Marty with him. Around the time I was chosen he returned. He became my Guide, and later on, after I began my training and learning, the boys joined us.
He never talked about what he did when he disappeared, and neither did Marty.
Marty was there the whole time, in the background watching, helping. Ever since then we have been one big family, not related by blood, but related by situation and cause. We were all fighting for the same thing.

“Good afternoon Isaac” I smiled. In many ways, he was my father figure. Sometimes I felt like I clung to him as a father because I never had one.

“How was school?” he asked me. I rolled my eyes.

“Boring” laughed Marty. “She doesn’t like the human version of history” he chuckled. Isaac just chucked at me, he ran his hand through his hair and proceeded to get himself a drink.

“So what are we doing tonight?” I asked. “More training?”

“After what you put the boys through last night?” laughed Isaac. “I don’t think so. Tonight we will patrol.”
I just mumbled an agreement. Patrolling was boring; it means there was no guaranteed action. For someone like me, who was trained to fight, trained to kill, a night where none of those events take place is a boring one. Patrolling didn’t satisfy that itch for action. It would be something similar to a soldier being trigger happy, itching for action, only I knew what I was doing.
While most people love going to work and having nothing to do, I hated it. When we had nothing to do it made me uneasy. It made me feel like something was coming, or worse, that something was wrong.


Two
I roughly kicked at the person in front of me. The force of my kick pushed them backwards, propelling them into the wall. I heard a small grunt of pain mixed with the impact of the body against the wall.
Before I had a moment to regain my balance two firm hands gripped around my body, jerking me backwards. I felt myself slam into the hard marbled chest of my attacker.
All the air left my body. I gasped for breath as the arms of the person behind me gripped my small frame tighter, firmly crushing against my chest.
“Little Lilly should stay in school” they taunted me, whispering in my ear. Anger and fear built up inside me, boiling as the lips of my attacker brushed against my neck. How did they know my name? It was not like I was someone well known, was I?
They weren’t supposed to know my name; in fact they weren’t supposed to know anything about me. We lived in secrecy; this was not something that was normal.
“Such a strong heart beat” they mused. “So strong and loud...”
They never finished their sentence.
I felt the body behind me go limp, the dead weight slumping against me. I pushed my way out of their now lose grip, untangling myself from their limbs, feeling the fresh air fill my lungs. The moment I was free I was thrown backwards. I didn’t know where the blow came from, but I slammed into a brick wall. The impact crashing through my body, the sound ringing in my ears and spinning in my head.
My body crumbled to the ground, pain shooting through my back. I rolled my eyes as I gingerly got up, gasping for air. I was going to be so bruised tomorrow, how was I supposed to explain that to anyone at school?
I looked up, locking eyes with the monster that had thrown me against the wall. He was tall and thin, his white fangs glistening with blood in the moonlight. It wasn’t my blood; it was the blood of the innocent girl he had tried to make a meal of. That was until we turned up.
His eyes were dark with anger; I could see the flames burning behind his pupils. They were all the same, blood thirsty villans.
Before he could even move towards me, his eyes widened in shock, his tall thin body falling forward hitting the ground with a loud thump.

“Took your time” I hissed at Tom, slowly pulling a piece of broken wood out of my tangled hair.

“Sorry” he replied, kicking the now motionless body of the dead vampire. “The girl kind of took a little more time than I thought...”

“Is she okay?” I asked, praying we got to her in time.

“Dead” he sighed. “We were too late; the venom had spread too far.”

“Fuck” I muttered. “How old was she?”

“16 or 17” he replied, picking up the body in front of him. I sighed and grabbed the other vampire, the one who had known my name. They weren’t supposed to know who we were; the fact that he had called me by my name had made me more than nervous and uneasy.
I followed Tom, dragging the body of the dead vampire behind me. This was the part I hated the most, as if it wasn’t enough to have to fight, you had to clean up after yourself and burn them. The smell of burning flesh is not one that is easy to forget.

“He knew my name Tom” I said as soon as we stopped. We had come to where the girl was, she looked no older than me, he hair tangled, her eyes wide in shock.

“What?” he asked, turning to face me. “He what?”

“He knew my name, he called me Lily” I replied.

“What did he say exactly?” asked Tom. “Tell me everything he said to you.”

“He said ‘Little Lily should have stayed in school’...and then he went on about my strong heart beat” I replied looking at him. If he was panicking in any way he wasn’t showing it. I, however, could feel my heart racing in my chest.

“Come on, we need to burn these bodies, and then we need to get back to Isaac” snapped Tom. The fact that he was desperate to get back to Isaac made me even more scared, it made me feel like there was something I was missing. How could they know my name?
Nothing smells as putrid as burning flesh, and nothing will ever erase that smell from my memory. Despite how many times I have had to do it, and how many times I have seen it done, the smell still shocks me; it still brings me close to tears. That of course was something I would never let anyone else know. In our line of work there can be no room for emotion, it gives you a weakness, something to pick at until you fall apart. I haven’t cried since I was three, and I refuse to let things make me cry. I will not be seen as weak, I will not show weakness.
When I was three, when I was first taken in by the Guards, I was beaten to within an inch of my life. This was my initiation. This was to prove that I was strong enough to be here. The idea behind the beating is to take you close enough to death that you don’t fear it. Being a protector of the innocent, and Guard, you can’t be scared to die. The beatings also happen for another reason, they make you stronger, mentally, and emotionally. They keep going until you no longer cry when you are hit; they keep going until you aren’t scared, until you can’t cry. They make you stronger, they make you better.
Tom and I jogged home in silence. There was nothing we needed or even could say to each other.
My mind was racing. How could this have happened? Did someone slip up? Did someone tell them about us? Was there a traitor amongst us?
No matter how many questions I asked myself I couldn’t come up with any answers. There wasn’t any explanation that I could give myself. My head was swimming with possibilities, but not with answers.

***

The room was eerily dark; it smelt like years of decay. Everything about it was frightening. He moved quickly in the dark, unwilling to linger and waste time. In this day and age, time was something that they couldn’t afford to waste, not any more, they had wasted too much of it already.
They had found her, for so long they had been searching, but now they’d found her. He’d been waiting a lifetime for this moment and now it had come. It was almost painful to have to think about the few more months he might have to wait. He had made it this far, he could make himself wait a few more months.
He’d been dying to meet her, this girl who was supposed to be something so special. What could possibly be so special about her?
She was human after all, it’s not like they are really good for much, except for possibly a meal.
His footsteps echoed in the empty halls, filling the silence. It would be stupid of him to assume that he was alone right now, there were always people watching you in places like this. People could so easily blend in with the stone walls; watch you from the shadows unseen. This is why they were so secretive about everything they did; you never knew who was watching.
He pulled his jacket tighter around himself, as if to protect his body against the cold, wet, damp air of the dark rooms, but he didn’t need really need to be protected from anything.
He hated this life, living in the darkness, fighting every day to stay alive, it wasn’t a life. He hated that he was dead, but yet here he was still living some form of life. He hated that he had been reduced to this creature, to behave like such a monster to survive day to day. He hated that he was existing in this form of limbo, not really dead, but not even close to being alive.
He was an outcast to his own kind, and a demon to the humans. He was everything that was hated in this world, all of that was about to change though. It was all about to get better. They had found her, Lily Evans, the girl who would save them all. She was the one that would bring him his freedom or at least his freedom from them. He was stuck in this life, stuck in this form of living, neither dead nor alive. He just existed. He wanted to be free of this burden; he wanted to either be dead or alive. He wanted to have a soul, to know what it felt like to hold someone in his arms, to have warmth flood through his body, he wanted to know what it was like to be human again.
All the hostility he had towards humans was just jealousy. They didn’t know what it was like for him; they lived their perfect privileged lives while he suffered in the dark. He had gone centuries without feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin, with the moon as his constant companion. He wanted so badly to be human again.
She was supposed to help them; she was supposed to be able to defeat him, to free them from the monstrosity that their existence had become. He didn’t know how, he didn’t care how, all he knew was the she was the one that they needed. She was the one that he needed.
They had to act fast though; she was highly wanted in his world, highly wanted for reasons very different to his own. They wanted her so they could be saved; the others wanted her so that they could doom the world. She was like a key to a hidden treasure.
It was hard to think of an 18 year old human girl as a saviour, but right now she was their only hope to end this suffering that had haunted them for a lifetime.
“Alex” a raspy voice said as he reached the doorway. Inside the room was bathed with light, inside the room were two other people. ‘People’ wasn’t really the word, they weren’t people anymore, they were vampires.

“Marcus” nodded Alex. “Sophia” he added, acknowledging the other figure. “She’s the one” was all he said to the two slim figures. They stood there motionless, emotionless, blankly staring at the younger vampire.

“Are you sure?” asked Sophia, her hard pale face studying the younger male’s.

“Yes” he replied coldly. “She’s the only female left, it has to be her. She’s our last hope in defeating Viktor.”

“Then we must act now” nodded the older male, Marcus, his hand touching Sophia’s. “We must help keep her safe. We must get her on our side.”

“She’s not as weak as you might think” smiled Alex at his older companion. “She easily killed one of Viktor’s men earlier tonight, her partner killing the other and a girl too far gone to save.”

“Where is she now?” asked Marcus.

“Back with her Guide, Isaac” replied Alex. He himself found it hard to believe that a girl so small was capable of defending herself, let along killing a creature as strong as a vampire.

“Good” smiled Sophia. “Isaac is an old friend; I have much faith that he knows how to keep his charges safe.”

“How do you know him?” asked Alex, slightly intrigued at this new information. The older guide was a mystery to him; he had studied him for days but had no idea why he did what he did. He clearly was not as driven as any other the other Guide’s. His goal wasn’t to help his charges kill and protect, it was simply to train them, to keep them fit, healthy and above all safe. He wasn’t worried about the number of kills they had or any of the other trivial things that seemed to be slowly taking over the other Guards.

“We’ve had our run ins in the past” smiled the older woman. “I can promise you he won’t have forgotten me.”

“Enough reminiscing” interrupted Marcus, cutting the topic off before it had begun, Alex tried to read his expression but it was hidden too well. “We have to move now; the sun will be up in a matter of minutes.”
Both Alex and Sophia nodded, in silence the three of them moved, easing gracefully from the well lit room into the darkness, desperate to get to their goal. The sun was completely harmless to them, but it was easier to remain in the darkness of night, safer for them to travel and the best way to stay hidden. Movement during the day was so easily tracked and traced.

***

“What do you mean calm down?” asked Tom. He was more yelling at Isaac, but it was question nevertheless and I didn’t care so much about how it was delivered. I wanted to know the answer too. How did that vampire know my name?
Jessie was sitting at the table watching Tom pace around the kitchen. Marty was quietly and calmly reading a book, and Phillip was leaning against the wall watching Tom, nodding along with him as he yelled around the room, also making sure the older boy didn’t lunge forward and wrap his hands around Isaac’s throat.
Our Guide was being less than helpful, he was just listening to Tom go off, watching the tall boy walk around the room throwing his hands around wildly.
I didn’t understand how everyone else was being so calm, here I was sitting down, my hands white on the table as they talked about me as if I wasn’t in the room. They were talking about vampires that knew about where I lived, knew how I was living, and knew who exactly I was. That was something that was never supposed to happen. We were supposed to be almost unknown, even to our own people. Not many people in the order could list any others in the order other than the people they directly interacted with. We never had large gatherings and kept to ourselves, we remained secret to protect ourselves.

“Isaac, how did they find out?” I asked quietly, interrupting Tom’s passionate ranting. “How and why do they know who I am?”

“I can’t be 100% sure Lily, but I do know that it means that you’re not safe anymore” he sighed, breaking his silence. “I haven’t always been honest with the three of you, and for that I am sorry but it was in your best interest, and you must believe me when I say that I never really thought that this day would come. I never believed in the myths or legends...”

“What?” asked Jessie, looking up from the table. “What day? What myths? What legends?”

“This day” replied a dark figure from the corner. He stepped into the light, followed by two other people. My heart instantly began to race as I recognized the distinct features, the sharp teeth, and the pale skin. They were here for me, I knew they were and it sent a shiver down my spine.
The boys made a move to defend themselves against these intruders, but Isaac silenced them, I didn’t hear or notice much of the commotion. My eyes were fixated on the youngest of the three of them, the tall, pale, handsome boy with piercing blue eyes. He stood there, straight and tall, staring right back at me. I felt as if he were looking right through me and into my soul, I felt bare and exposed to him. I quickly diverted my eyes and looked at Isaac, greeting these three vampires with what seemed to be open arms. I was more than confused.

“Who are you?” I asked the oldest of the three of them. He seemed like the logical person to ask, he had this aura of being in charge, he held himself with poise that suggested he was in charge.

“My name is Marcus, this is my wife Sophia and that is my son Alex” he replied graciously, his smooth voice seeming to calm the volatile atmosphere in the room. “I am sorry to interrupt your morning, but we wouldn’t be here unless we thought it were completely necessary.”

“I understand” nodded Isaac. What exactly was going on here? Why were there three vampires standing in my kitchen? Was Isaac friends with these blood sucking animals?

“Isaac what is going on?” demanded Phillip, stepping forward into the light of the room. He looked angry.

“It’s a long story Phillip” sighed Isaac, seemingly unwilling to divulge any more information.

“Well start at the beginning old man” demanded Tom. “Because this is getting ridiculous. There are three unannounced vampires in the kitchen, Lily’s life seems to be in some kind of danger, and you are rather calm about this whole situation.”

“These vampires are nothing to be worried about” replied Isaac calmly. “They are friends of mine, old friends, and they are very much on our side.”

“Our side?” interrupted Jessie. “How can you be sure? Last time I checked there was no such thing as a good vampire, and I didn’t really know that vampires and Guard’s had a side.”

“They are on our side, these people are my friends” replied Isaac firmly. “They are here because time has apparently run out.”

“What do you mean time has run out?” asked Phillip. I sat silently watching the exchange between all of them, wishing I knew what was going on. My head was filled with questions that I knew better than to ask. All the while I could feel the eyes of the youngest vampire Alex on me, he made me uneasy.

“I was hoping it would never come to this” he sighed. “The reason I took the four of you on as charges was to protect Lily. I knew that if I could train you all together, if I could make you strong as a team; make you aware of the world around you, of each other’s strengths and weaknesses that when the time came, if the time came, everything would be okay.
Then other females started getting called into the order and suddenly Lily wasn’t as special as they had originally thought, or so they concluded. I was still sceptical. So I stuck with you all, after all, I had grown rather fond of you, I started to think of you as my own children.
Females are not supposed to be called to duty; it was never the way it worked. They were the people that worked behind the scenes, looking after anyone who got hurt, researching, bearing children; they were never actually supposed to fight. We never wanted to send them into battle; we never wanted them to get hurt. We have this innate instinct to protect them, to care for them, and they for us, sending them into battle never seemed a feasible option.
Then, occasionally a woman would get called into the order. At first the order tried to ignore it, tried to put the woman in the corner and pretend that nothing out of the ordinary had happened. But then more were called, until they finally decided to train them, to let them do what they had been called to do. Lily’s grandmother was one of the first women to be trained by the order, she was a better fighter than most, stronger, faster, it was almost as if she knew things before they happened. She retired to have a family with another Guard.
For years not one other girl had been called up for duty. The order was sure that there would never be anymore called up.”

“Let me guess, then Lily was called?” asked Tom dryly. He seemed to think everything was a sick joke.

“Yes, then Lily, three year old Lily, small and innocent Lily was called into the order” continued Isaac. Why had he never told me any of this?
He always said that there were other women like me; he never told me that there were barely any other women.
“For three years the order trained her within its own walls, never letting anyone see her, barely even letting people within the order know of her existence. Only the most important people were aware of her existence.
I myself came back the moment I heard about her. I of course couldn’t prove that the whispers of a female Guard were true, but I knew that no one else was allowed to train her, that I had to guide her. Then you three were called, and I knew from the moment I saw you that you were meant to help her. Call it whatever you want, but I believe it was something similar to devine intervention.
Then something weird happened, other females started being called again. Not many, but enough so that Lily was no longer deemed as important, as unique. Not to mention the fact that she was still the youngest out of them all. The order lost interest in her that is why they were willing to let me train you.”

“What do you mean willing?” asked Jessie, just as confused as me.

“I had fallen out with the order long before you four came along. It was around the time that I met Marty” the older man touched the younger’s shoulder.
“I had saved the young boy’s life, and spared that of the one vampire that was found at the scene” his eyes drifted to the only other woman in the room.
“I was exiled and I didn’t want to be part of the order anymore....but then Lily drew me back.
When they suddenly lost interest in her, they were willing to let me be her Guide. They were obligated to give me a charge, seeing as I was a Guard years before. Rules are rules, and we are all bound by them.” Isaac didn’t seem to want to go into details about his falling out with the order, or any great details about that period of his life, just like always. I wanted to press him for details, I wanted to know everything, I needed to know more, but I stopped myself from speaking. My hands just dug into the table as I tried to take this all in.

“Well then what about us?” asked Tom. “Why were they willing to let you have us?”

“You three I had to fight for, but they gave in” he shrugged. “There was no real reason as to why I couldn’t have the three of you, even if they thought that I was taking on too many charges. Most Guides only have one or two, and I wanted four. That baffled them, but I knew that if there was any truth to the myths and legends going around, any truths in the whispers that had brought us together, then I knew that Lily would need a strong family around her.”

“What myths and legends?” asked Phillip, looking intently at the old man.

“If I may?” stepped in Sophia, her graceful frame stepping into the light, unveiling her classic beauty. Isaac nodded.
“For centuries there has been a legend going around about a girl who could save us, and in turn the world” she started. “In simple form, she would save the world, but when you dig deeper into the stories and the prophecies, it gets a little more complicated and more and more ambiguous.
According to legend, one girl, stronger than any human, born into a world of men, would be able to defeat the dark master, the lord of the underworld. The legend says that she will develop bonds with people she was born to hate, and that a love stronger than any form of magic, and withstand all the challenges thrown its way, this love is supposed to be the reason that she can overcome the darkness she must fight.
Obviously the legends and lore’s are old, told from generation to generation, lost in translation. It is hard to know exactly what it is true, and what is going to happen and what isn’t. We do know that there is someone who will help free us of the evil bonds that this life is putting on us. We do know that there is a girl who can and will save us, and we know that it is Lily.”
“All that has ever been documented on the legend is lost, all the remains of it is one small portion of what was once an epic story.
The fate of the species and the human world will rest in the hands of one girl; she will be the only one strong enough to be able to defeat him. She will be chosen and born into a life of hatred, killing that which she will save.
From her destiny a love will be born, a love stronger than ever before, a love to save her life, a love to save the world.
Her sacrifice is our gift.
We believe that Lily is that girl.”

“How do you know it is me?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. All faces turned to me, as if just remembering that I was in the room, although one face had not stopped looking at me.

“Because you’re the only living female Guard” replied Marcus. “And because Viktor, the leader of all the other vampires and the underworld, is after you Lily. He wants you, and we don’t know why. We know that you are able to kill him, that you can succeed were so many others fail, but we don’t know why he could possibly want you. We fear he is after you to kill you.”

“To kill me?” I asked, the words causing me to choke.

“That is why we are here, between us all we can keep you safe” soothed Sophia. “If we work together, like the legend says, we can defeat him. We can free all the innocent people who are under his power; we can save the world from his evil.”
I shook my head in shock. This was not happening, this was not happening to me. I wasn’t some saviour. How did they have so much faith in me to save them when I was willing to kill them?
I had spent my life learning to hate them, learning to kill them, and now they all wanted me to turn around and save them.
Why didn’t the order try to tell me earlier? Why did they banish me off with Isaac? Did they not believe in this story? Did they not think I was ‘the one’? Was I ‘the one’?
I felt like I had been thrown into some nightmare, desperately hoping that it would end, pleading with myself to wake up. And what was all this about sacrifice?
Everyone was so willing to skip over that like it was some minute detail. Was I supposed to die? Was I supposed to just lose a hair?
These stupid things were so ambiguous and no one else knew what was going on. The fact that these questions swirling through my head at a hundred miles an hour were never going to be answered was even more frustrating.
It was taking every ounce of strength that I possessed to not scream, to not stand up and kill the vampires standing in front of me. I didn’t even know how they expected me to be able to work with them, for them, when I had been told my entire life to hate them.

***

He studied her carefully. She was pretty, innocent looking, but under all of it he could see the fierceness in her. She was a fighter, that, at this point could only be a good thing.
The three boys she lived with were protective of her, that was a charming quality really, but would they be willing to side with them?
It was hard to tell.
The old man was still somewhat of a mystery, he had a history with Sophia it seemed, and he had spared her life, at great sacrifice to himself.
Marty, the human in the room remained silent the whole time, it was unsettling how calm he was, listening to this. It seemed the horrors of the world didn’t seem to faze him, this entire situation didn’t seem to bother him at all, and he just sat there, unfazed. That made him uneasy.
He himself had stood in the shadows, studying everyone, particularly the girl. His eyes barely left her face, he was determined to never let her out of his sight. At the end of the day she was the only one they needed, so she was the one that drew the majority of his attention. There was also something about her that he couldn’t pinpoint, something that was alluring to her, something that made her more fascinating to him without reason.
The humans bantered between themselves, raising their voices in annoyance at the secrets, the lies, and the lack of communication, frustrated for not being able to understand. He didn’t get why they didn’t understand, it wasn’t a difficult thing to grasp.
Lily was someone they needed to help to save not only their own kind, but also his kind. She was the saviour of the world to put it bluntly.
“I need some air” said Lily, standing up quickly, out the door before anyone could protest. He glanced at Marcus, wondering if he should follow; it was dangerous to leave her alone. Marcus shook his head slightly, indicating for him to stay. He did as he was told, watching the door she had disappeared through.
Tom instinctively followed Lily, he was like a brother to her and his protective nature of her was shining through right now. The old man had clearly done very well in making them a close team; their loyalty would probably be almost faultless.
Compared to everyone else in the room, save Marty, she was the smallest, the frailest looking, but that meant nothing. The men all might have been taller, more muscular, but none of them could match her strength, not even Phillip, the biggest of them all. He knew that she was stronger than she looked, that she was a fighter. Her life proved that.
They all knew of her, everyone in their world knew of her in some way. Most assumed she was just myth, legend, but he knew otherwise. It was a weird feeling to think that the small girl that was in his presence a few seconds earlier was the same girl that people feared to even talk about.

“Will she be okay?” asked Sophia, looking at Isaac.

“I don’t know” he shrugged sitting down at the table. He looked exhausted, but relieved. He no longer needed to live a lie; he had no more secrets from his charges. His shoulders were slumped from exhaustion.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” asked Jessie. Out of the four of them, he seemed to be the most inquisitive, the most logical. While the conversation had been progressing, he seemed to be thinking things over in his head, processing everything that was said. The other two boys were more tactical and muscular, built more for fighting, they instantly angered at the lies and deceit, not to mention the danger that Lily was being put in. Lily, well, she was something in her own right. She was also harder to read then most people he had ever encountered. He couldn’t tell what was going through her mind, but he could tell she was confused, angry and hurt.

“I didn’t know how” shrugged Isaac. “I also wanted to keep you all protected, especially Lily. I also knew if she didn’t think she was special, if she didn’t feel any pressure, she’d learn better...but then it just got to hard to say. I wanted to tell you all when she turned 16, but I just couldn’t bring myself. I wanted to believe that I would never have to. I tried to make myself believe that it wasn’t real, that she wasn’t ‘the one’.”
Silence followed the old man’s confession; it was almost as if he were confessing a sin.

“I can understand that” nodded Jessie. The young man turned to Marcus. “Why does this involve you three? Why is it so important to you to have her?” He smiled at his question, of course they would question the want of three strange vampires in this quest.

“Because we need her” replied Sophia. Marcus held up his hand to silence her.

“You think we are all evil, I understand that, it is what you are taught to believe” said Marcus. “The truth is that we are not, there are a select few of us who are not, as you would so easily call us, evil. We don’t exist to kill humans, to harm anyone. You have to remember that we didn’t chose this life.
We generally stick to ourselves, living in small groups, hunting at night. We try to stay out of human lives, and keep them out of ours.”

“I don’t understand” said Phillip shaking his head. “Then how do you survive?”

“We drink animal blood mainly, we try hard to not harm humans” replied Marcus. “You could kind of call it a vegetarian diet of some sorts. We only hunt when we need to, we rob blood banks, and we do everything within our power to be peaceful. With time, the urge to kill fades, and the desire for human blood becomes something small and manageable. We don’t need human blood to survive, that in its whole entirety is a myth, we can survive on very little of it, using animal blood as a substitute. This kind of lifestyle takes discipline, which is why there are so few of us.
We need Lily because we are threatened by Viktor’s existence just as much as you are. We are the outcasts of our species. To protect our world, and yours, we need her, and we are here to work with you to help, in whatever way we can.”

“Why wouldn’t they tell us about you?” asked Jessie. “I mean, if there are ‘good’ vampires out there, ‘good’ creatures, then why keep that secret from us?
We are trained to kill you, to never ask questions. As far as we are concerned you are not conscious creatures, you don’t think like we do, you don’t feel. Why then do you work so hard to keep humans safe?”

“Because for centuries the Infernal Guards have been trying to rid the earth of anything that is not human. It has been trying to wipe out vampires, werewolves, witches, everything and anything that threatens the human race” replied Sophia softly. “We need to go as undetected as possible.”

“Why?” asked Jessie.

“Everyone is afraid of that which they don’t understand, of that which is different” replied Marcus. “The easiest way to deal with something that is different is to reject it. The human race has proved itself to be very destructive in its time.”
Somewhere in the house he heard an alarm ring, it was a high piercing sound, and he cringed slightly. His sensitive ears didn’t quite agree with the sound.


Edited and re-worked in places. Constructive criticism is always welcome. Of course, like most things, it is very unfinished and very rough. Plus I am too lazy to add in the italicised things, seeing as blogger is getting fussy with me cutting and pasting from word.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

I'm going to be re-editing and continuing a story very soon. I feel like it is time to pick up the pen again, however slow the process may be.

Monday, January 26, 2009

Wipe off that Makeup, What's in is Dispair - Chapter 2

“Did you miss me?” asked the voice, from the other side of the door. I felt the blood drain from my face as I heard the key hit the lock. I don’t know how long I had been in this room, or how long I had been alone, but just as a false sense of security was coming over me, it left.
“Are there she is” continued the voice, coming through the door. “The girl of my dreams.”

“W-what are you talking about?” came a muffled, slightly scared whisper. “Where are you taking me?” Slowly I let my eyes drift to the door; I was going to have to see my tormenter eventually, it would probably be better to get it over and done with.
“Take all my money, I don’t care, I won’t go to the cops. Just let me go.”
The sight before me shocked, scared and surprised me. Standing before me was both a stranger and Daniel. Daniel looked like he had been in some sort of fight, there were cuts on his face, his clothes were torn, and the stranger looked flawless, no cuts, no bruises, nothing.

“I believe you two know each other” said the stranger, pushing Daniel into the floor, binding him to a pipe that ran along the wall.

“Bella?” asked Daniel. “Bella?! What is this, some kind of sick joke? Who the fuck are you?!” Daniel struggled against his restraints, trying in vain to escape.

“Someone who is going to teach you exactly what respect for a woman is” replied the stranger, pushing him back against the wall. “I’m going to show you exactly what you’ll miss for the rest of your life.”

“What are you talking about?” snapped Daniel. “You’re fucking crazy.”

“You have no idea” sneered the man. “Although, in my eyes, you are the one who is crazy. I know what you’ve been doing Daniel, I know every single one of your deep and dark secrets. Should we tell Bella here exactly what you’ve been up to?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about” hissed Daniel. “You’re a fucking creep.”

“Sticks and stones” smiled the man, brushing the words aside. “Although, I believe Bella knows about your indiscretion with her friend Melanie.”

“Why are you talking about this?” I asked, struggling against the ropes that bound my wrists. “I don’t want to hear about this.” I didn’t want to relive any of this, I suppressed the images of their bodies intertwined on our bed.

“You’ve seen it, what harm is there in talking about it?” shrugged the man casually. “Besides, Melanie is only the beginning of the story.” I cringed as another image of their naked bodies flashed before my eyes.

“What?” I asked in confusion. Daniel couldn’t have been sleeping with any more women could he? Was I really that worthless? Was I really that repulsive?

“He’s lying” shot Daniel.

“Oh shut up” snapped the man, backhanding Daniel across the face. It was enough to make me jump.
“Melanie was only one of Daniel’s many conquests whilst he pretended to be faithful to you” he continued. “You see, Bella, I’ve been watching you for a while...I’ve taken an interest in your life, and when I noticed that things were not exactly, right, I thought I’d dig a little deeper. It seems Daniel was not anywhere near as faithful to you as you were to him.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked in a whisper, tears starting to once again form in my eyes.

“Because he’s a fucking sick creep” yelled Daniel, again struggling to free himself of his binds.

“Because you captured my attention” replied the man, ignoring Daniel, his cold finger running along my jaw. “You captivated me and you deserve so much better than this piece of shit.
You’re a special woman Bella, and you don’t deserve people treating you like that. He lied to you over and over again, he used you, and he betrayed you.”

“Why do you care?” I asked, my voice shaking as the tears started to fall down my cheeks.

“I care more than you know” he whispered in my ear. “I care because I am nothing like him, and because someone as amazing as you should be taken care of, not abused. I care because I can.”

“But why do you care?” I asked again. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know you sugar, I know everything about you” he replied.

“You’ve been stalking her?” asked Daniel. “You fucking sick bastard.”

“I don’t know why you care so much Daniel, is it because all of a sudden your territory is up for grabs? You’re the one who was cheating on her remember?” he laughed. “And as I said, she captivated me, enough to make me look into her life and find out more about her, and let me tell you Daniel, I like what I’ve found.”
My tears were now freely flowing down my face; I was in a state of shock. The very person whom I had been running from was sitting across from me, and a man who I had never met before in my life was talking about me like I was the object of his obsession. This had to be a nightmare; this couldn’t be real, no one would be sick enough to do this to me.

“Don’t talk about her like that” yelled Daniel, struggling further against his binds. “She’s not a piece of fucking meat.”

“I know that” smiled the man menacingly. “I don’t think you ever did though.”

“I don’t understand why you even care, you’re a fucking sick jerk who has no idea about anything” spat Daniel.

“I care because you made her cry” he replied, once again, his finger catching a tear that was running down my face. He moved back towards Daniel and in one quick movement slapped his hand hard across his face. This time the sound didn’t make me flinch.

“What are you going to do to him?” I asked in whisper. I had no idea what his intentions with me were, but I knew that he would keep me longer than he intended to kept Daniel.

“Oh sugar, you know I never like to ruin surprises” he smiled at me. He didn’t look like someone who would hurt me, but judging by my track record I was always destined to be wrong about people. “Between you and me though darling, I am going to make sure he can never do what he did to you to anyone else.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“It means sugar, I am going to torture him just like he tortured you” he replied with a smirk. The look in his eye made the blood in my body run cold. My life was no longer in my own hands and that scared me.
“Don’t worry sugar” he said lifting my head to look into his hazel eyes, “I’ll keep you safe.” His thumb smudged the remainder of my tears across my face.

“But I am” I whispered into his hand.

Monday, January 12, 2009

I sent it in, but i don't expect anything

From The Vault

Ever since the day I can remember having my first conscious thought, I think I have been trying to convince myself that my family is normal, that I am normal, that this life I am living is not fucked up and everything is fine. I have been trying to tell myself that my life is going to be one big fairytale and everything will fall into place.
The thing is, it is not. Nothing is fine and my family is far from normal.
How do I know this?
In truth I don’t. I don’t know how other families work behind closed doors, I don’t know that the person next door is not as fucked up as me, all I have to go off is that stupid clichéd Hollywood movie, but I know that the life I am living is not at all normal. The situations I have seen are not normal.
I’m 20 years old, but I should be 80, I’m a definite ‘wise beyond her years’ type, an over thinker, a perfectionist, a dork, a loser, an optimistic girl who just happens to have to take a small pill every single day to make everything okay. You know, that one little pill that comes from the box labelled everywhere, “do not stop taking this medication abruptly unless advised by your doctor”, “prescription only medication”, “antidepressants”. People think that one word sums me up, they like to believe that I am only that word, that because it fits into a part of who I am, it is all I can be. it is a word I loathe, a word I try never to speak, a word that pretty much haunts me but is everywhere I look. Depressed, I have depression.
People like to believe that it means that I am sad. I am not just sad, there is so much more than just feeling sad that follows that word. It means something a little different to each person that can say they suffer from it.
I have spent the last God knows how long in therapy sessions, trying to talk everything out. It’s like trying to apply a verbal bandaid to everything. Some days it can feel like it is working, other days it feels like all I keep doing is talking shit and going nowhere.
I haven’t lived a traumatic, horrible life. I don’t have a sob story. If anything, my life has been nothing but easy, save the few awkward teenage moments, or an occasional character building moment.
I was never abused, never raped, I never witnessed anything truly horrific. How then can I explain this? When did it start? What caused me to be like this?
That day your parents yell at each other, screaming so loud you can hear it vibrate through the walls, you lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling waiting for it all to end, maybe that was the day it started.
The day your uncle called you fat, maybe that was when it started.
The Christmas you found out Santa wasn’t real. Could that have been the beginning?
Truth be told, it could have happened at any time. There is no way to go back and be sure that it started on x day at x time. No matter how hard I try, I’ll never know. No matter how much I talk, I will never get to that place of clarity. I will never see the beginning and I will probably never see the end. It’s almost like groundhog day in my head, a cycle of rinse and repeat emotions.
Sometimes I feel like a fake, I feel like I don’t deserve to be like this, that I don’t have the right to feel this bad when so many have it worse. Let’s be honest for a moment, my life is pretty fucking good. I’m not starving, I’m not being abused, I was never raped, I don’t have any children or responsibilities save two monthly bills. It’s not like everything in my life is horrible and has been horrible, therefore I am depressed because I have been through and have to go through so much. No, my life is easy and yet here I am, surprisingly still standing, barely.
How is it that someone who has so much less than me can struggle to remain alive but be going through life with a smile, yet I am here barely able to stand on my own two feet because of this overwhelming brick that sits on my chest?
I feel like I spend every day taking these pills, going through the motions, cruising through life, not experiencing anything truly. I feel like I am missing out, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to make myself get ‘into’ life. As if life is this ship that you jump onto and cruise away into the sunset. No matter how many internal ‘pep talks’ I give myself, no matter how many times I relive the ‘Rocky’ ‘Eye of the Tiger’ moment, I don’t seem to be able to get anywhere. I’m this girl stuck on repeat in a sucky made-for-TV movie.
I guess I am feeling like a talentless musician waiting for a big break so I can make it big. Only problem is I hate being in the spot light, and can’t for the life of me do anything other than feel like a worthless pile of shit.
Some people would tell me to shut the fuck up and stop whining, others would ask me how I have managed to make it to where I am. The answer is I don’t fucking know.
To the people that tell me to shut up, to not let myself be the victim, to ‘think positive’, to ‘make the change’ to better my life, all I can say to you is that you really have no idea. I have spent many nights trying to explain it to myself in simple terms, but honestly, unless you have been to these horrible places, and felt these insane emotions you will never understand. There is no bandaid solution to this problem; there is no way to turn off this negative cloud that follows me around.
I see myself as a failure, I’ve been in and out of university, in and out of work, and every time I get something good going I tend to fall apart at the seams. That or something happens to throw me off the rails. The stupid thing is, I am not a failure. I may have failed some things in my life, the odd test, a subject, but it doesn’t make me a failure. I’m still standing here breathing; I’m still getting out of bed and trying to push through everything to make this all work. That has to count for something right?
The only thing that I can say has been my constant companion, through the good and bad times would be music, and for the most part writing.
Music has that stupid ability to be able to sum up your emotions, your day, your desires in one melody, in one lyric. It can be anything from a ridiculous pop song to a classic. No matter the artist, no matter the title, any song can speak to any person at any time, and luckily for me, it was there when I needed a companion to help me not pick up the knife, or to stop me from swallowing the pills.
I’ve managed to come so close so many times. There are too many scary moments to relive and count. The thing is, I’ve survived through them and I can’t help but think I am better for it. I’ve hit rock bottom and climbed back up. One of my biggest fears is that one day I won’t make it back up.
"You sit by yourself, back against the wall, wondering how it came to this. What stupid little thing made it all come to this? How did it get so bad?
You were a happy child, always smiling, always laughing, but what everyone didn’t know was that it was all a cover. Every day was spent trying to make sure that everyone didn’t notice the dark monster eating you alive slowly.
It doesn’t matter anyway, because it has all lead you to this moment anyway. This deep dark moment, you’re sitting alone, pressed against the cold wall. Tears stream down your face, like they are trying desperately to get back to the earth, to get away from you.
Isolation is a one way street. The cold hard fact is that you put yourself here, you isolated yourself from everyone. But they wouldn’t understand would they? They don’t get it do they?
There is no comfort in this, sitting alone, crying to yourself, again. It’s pathetic, you’re pathetic and you know it.
Insecurities plague you like the flies in the summer; it’s hard to see a life where you’re not fighting to reach that pedestal that is always out of your grasp.
Your arms grasp your legs, pulling them against your heaving chest. Tears continue to run down your cheeks as you sob, like a child, desperately hoping for everything to just go away. There has never been a moment that you have wanted to be able to shut yourself down like a computer. You’re over thinking, over anyalysing, and there is no escape, the horrible truth is you can’t turn it off. You have to listen to every thought swarms around in your head, making it worse.
If it would leave you, if you could live without it, wouldn’t life be so much better? Wouldn’t you be able to live so much easier?
Right now everything is a struggle, a fight on a daily basis. Some days it is so bad you can’t even get yourself out of bed, other days you can’t eat, and then there are the days where you are so detached from everything it’s like you were never there anyway. It’s gotten to the point where you can’t see yourself living like this anymore; it’s just too much to take. Nobody wants to have to give themselves some stupid fake pep talk before they do simple every day things; nobody wants to be so unmotivated they can’t stand in the shower. It’s not living.
It begs the question; would everything be better if it was gone? Would it be better if you didn’t have to do it anymore? Surely the world would be a better place without you, there is no one who would miss you right?
Here you are, dejected, isolated and alone, crying to yourself, tears of pain that no one knows about, that no one will hear. Here you sit, gasping for air as your lungs and throat burn from crying, in the dark thinking of nothing but dying, trying to remove that invisible brick that is crushing your lungs and making you feel like you can barely move.
There are so many different ways you could do it, so many options. You could go for your wrists, you could drown yourself in the bathtub, you could jump in front of a train, take all your medication, it’s scary to think that all these things are running through your head. It scary to think that at the drop of a hat you could list a possible way to kill yourself. It is scary to think that every time you see a train approaching the station you watch as it gets closer and then think about how easy it would be to jump. The thing is, every time you’ve let the train go past, you haven’t jumped. Was that the right choice?
Life wasn’t supposed to be like this. You weren’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to get easier, you weren’t supposed to be another statistic, and you weren’t supposed to be someone who died so young. Yet here you are.
You never thought that you’d be the person who was the suicide risk; you never thought you’d be the person so desperate, so depressed that the only solution you could see was ending your own life. How pathetic is that?
You can imagine it all now; everyone apologetically dressed in black, standing around remembering what you used to be before all this. They’ll remember when you were young, when you were carefree. They probably wouldn’t know that most of it seems like it was a lie. Time will pass, and eventually they’ll forget.
So everything has come down to this moment, this one lonely dark moment. Is this the time when you call it quits? Is then when you walk away and say I tried? Is this the end of the story?
You’re so tired, sick of fighting everything, sick of not being able to sleep, sick of not being able to get away from your own thoughts, sick of feeling so useless, so stupid, so alone, so sad, so helpless, it’s not the life you wanted. It’s not a life at all is it?
But giving up now would be too easy; giving up now would mean that all the months of hard work would have gone to waste. It would mean that opening up to a complete stranger and spilling every little minute detail of your life in 45 minute blocks would be pointless. It would mean that the last 20 years had been a monumental waste. The next 20 could only be better right? The next 20 just might be worth living for, right?
It’s just hard to see anything getting better; it’s hard to think about life without feeling this way. Everything just feels hopeless and there is no getting away from it. It is a sinking feeling, deep in the pit of your stomach, taking you over slowly. It’s a brick weighing down on your chest and there is no escape.
Family creeps into your head, their smiling faces, childhood memories, everything that would make what you want to do hard, suddenly showing you the way that you disappearing might affect people. Suddenly it all doesn’t seem so easy to end. Suddenly you have people who would miss you, people who would be disappointed by you, people who you will be letting down, and it dawns on you that you’d be letting yourself down the most.
You continue to hug your legs, your tears have stopped and your eyes are drying. Tiredness is overcoming you, but still you sit there. Still you feel helpless; still you want it to end.
You sit there and let the time tick by, the time that you can never get back, but the time you don’t want to have. Slowly you fall asleep and your darkest moment fades away, you’re most vulnerable moment ends, you got through it. But it’s a battle every day, because your biggest fear is that one day this moment will come back, and maybe one day you won’t be able to turn it down."

Writing is a therapeutic outlet, I feel so genuinely sorry for those that don’t do it. It can be self indulgent, poetic, one word, a story, a sentence; it can be anything that helps you get out whatever it was that needed to be released. Since being diagnosed with depression, something I find so stupidly difficult to say yet it is so easy to write, I have written something every single day. I have kept journals; I have written whatever it was that was in my head, even if it wasn’t anything that would make sense.
Those two things are the friends I had at 4 o’clock in the morning when I was crying so hard I couldn’t make out any objects, when the blade was pressed flush against my skin, when I had the pills in my shaking hand. They were there when I was so close to giving everything up, when I was so close to being self indulgent and selfish, when I was feeling pitiful and helpless.
I have scars on the inside and outside of my body, scars that only I can see and scars that I can share. They are from every moment in my life, every sad moment, every happy moment; they are catalogued so I can never forget. They are there so I will always know where I have been, where I have come from, who I am, and just how I got to where I am. I need this constant reminder of who I am, because I can so easily find myself getting lost in the crowd.
As for normalcy, I’ve given up on it. Nothing will ever fit into the ‘normal’ category anyway. I am a loser, a dork, a whiny girl, a selfless idiot, an optimist, an over thinker, a perfectionist, I am depressed. The best part of it all is that I am me, there is no one else out there that is the same, no one. There is no copy and I am just as important as the person on my TV, I am just as entitled and I am just as ‘normal’. I’m not afraid to show my scars and I sure as hell am not afraid to share them.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Lessons in Life - EDITED #2

If there was anything more that I hated in the world than school, it was a school based trip. It wasn’t enough that my life was reduced to being ridiculed by rich teenagers everyday at school, confined by the classroom walls, no, they had to make me attend these stupid camps and retreats where it was made more apparent that I was an outsider.
These stupid events always made it easy for people to point out exactly how few friends I had, or exactly how different I was. It also made it hard to get away; hard to get time to myself, because every second had to be documented by someone going by the guise of “supervisor”.
Today was my lucky day, the ‘group’ of students and teachers were going off for a day of hiking and rock climbing. None of the teachers here were stupid enough to even think that I would participate, let alone co-operate. They had given me the luxury of being able to stay at the camp and pursue other recreational activities. I guess they figured I deserved a ‘treat’ seeing as I had been behaving myself. Sure, I wasn’t enjoying myself, but I wasn’t being difficult either, I at least was partaking in the majority of stupid activities and pretending that I was happy and carefree.
I watched as they walked off into the distance, climbing onto the small bus that would shuttle them to the beginning of their stupid hike.
“I guess you’re stuck with me for the day then” he shrugged as the bus drove away, taking our classmates on what was sure to be a ‘fun filled adventure’.

“I think you’re stuck with yourself” I replied, “I’m doing my art assignment.” I was doing something for art, but it wasn’t really an assignment, it was more of an extra task from the art teacher. She was one of those few people that knew me well, and she knew that I wouldn’t be participating in the rock climbing, the bush walking or any of the mundane activities provided, so she set me her own task. I was to draw three landscapes, and then two animals, the tricky part was that they all had to be part of an interconnecting story. For example, I could draw the campsite, the lake, and the mountains, a butterfly and a possum. The possum would routinely steal food from the campsite and drink from the lake, the tree it called home was on the mountain and the butterfly was its best friend, well something to that effect anyway.

“Is the idea of spending the day with me really that horrible?” he asked, a small smile on his face.

“Yes” I replied. “It really is.”

“Why?” he pressed, the smile a little more prominent. He seemed to be getting a kick out of this torment.

“Because we have absolutely nothing in common, you hang out with assholes, you enjoy sports and I don’t like you” I replied picking up my bag.

“You don’t know me” he said taking the bag off me, a chuckle coating his comment.

“What’s there to know?” I asked. “You play sports, you’re a straight A student, you’re father is a top notch lawyer, you’re an only child, you’re mother is a full-time stay at home mum, you have a dog you take for a run every night, you’ve applied for all of the ivy league colleges, Harvard first because it is where your dad went, and you don’t date because it ‘get’s in the way of your sport’. Was that an accurate guess?”

“Leave out the dating and the dog part and you’re halfway” he smiled at me. “I don’t have a dog because my mother is allergic, my mother is actually a writer, my dad went to Yale, and I have an older sister.”

“How wonderful” I replied, sarcasm dripping from each word. I wasn’t actually fishing for his life story; I more just wanted him to go away. “Can I please have my bag back?”

“Well, Beth, I can’t give it to you because that would mean that you wouldn’t take me where ever you were going, and I so desperately want to come.” His smile was faultless. “Besides, I’d prefer to be verbally barraged by you all day then sit here alone and bored.”

“That might make more sense in theory” I said attempting to grab my bag off him, “but in practise it might not go so well.”

“Why is that?” he asked, his confident smile returning.

“Because on what planet is it exactly that we would get along?” I asked. “Since when has someone like you ever wanted to ‘hang out’ with someone like me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, now even more amused than before.

“Oh spare me the questions, and don’t make me point out the differences between us, you know exactly what they are” I replied, my eyes narrowing at him.

“What if I don’t care about all of that?” he asked.

“Then I would say that you’re lying. What do you expect? We spend the day together, have deep and meaningful conversations and then tomorrow pretend it never happened?” I asked. “I seriously think you should stop pretending that the world is perfect and that I am about to let you screw me over.”

“What makes you think I am out to get you?” he asked me sincerely confused.

“Because what else could you possibly want from me?” I asked, abandoning my bag and beginning to walk away. “What else is it that I could possibly offer you? It’s not like I am someone you would usually hang out with.”

“What does it matter if you are or aren’t?” he asked. “You barely even know me, so you don’t know who I’d usually even associate with?”

“What is it that you want from me?” I asked him again, completely tired of playing his games.
“Do you want me to say that the life you lead is fine, it’s okay, I give you my approval. I get it; you just want to use me to make your life seem better. Or you want to hear out all my little pathetic stories so you can laugh about it with your friends?”

“What makes you think I am that type of person?” he asked me, falling into step beside me, my bag firmly secured on his shoulder. “I promise you Beth, I am not out to get you. I simply just want to be a friend.”
I didn’t bother replying, I had no words for him. My mind was about to explode from the obscurity of this entire situation and the warning sirens that were going along with it. Instead of putting my foot down and making him leave, I just let it be. I ignored everything going on in my head and just let it all be.
“So why aren’t you going rock climbing today?” he asked, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen over us.

“Do I look like I’d want to be rock climbing with a bunch of people who hate me?” I asked him in return. “Someone might get a brilliant idea and cut the cord or something.”

“No one would do that” he replied.

“Why aren’t you partaking in the group festivities today?” I asked him, jumping from the topic of me. “After all, you are the sporting type, or so you pretend.”

“I have to rest my shoulder, doctor’s orders” he replied. “So that means no real ‘challenging’ physical activity.”

“How unfortunate” I replied in mock sympathy.

“So you don’t like sport” he laughed. “I get it.”

“No, sport does not like me” I replied. “Co-ordination does not like me.” I stopped dead in my tracks and turned to face him.

“What?” he asked me after a few moments of silence.

“Can I have my bag?” I asked him in return. “I want to get out my blanket to sit on.”

“You’re ridiculous” he laughed.

“Get used to it” I snapped, snatching the bag out of his outstretched hand.

*****

“So how was the camp?” asked my art teacher. She was slightly eccentric, a complete oddball and nothing like any other teacher I had ever had in the past. She was everything that this school was not, and everything that I loved. She was one of my good friends, not a best friend like two teenagers, more of a good mentor and friend whenever I needed someone to talk to.

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Lessons in Life - EDITED

They say that dedication takes a lifetime, I guess those people don’t know exactly what goes into a lifetime, or just how long, or short it can be.
My mother always thought that my taste in music, clothes, and boys was a phase. I couldn’t even begin to tell you how wrong about me she was.
The only person who really understood was my best friend, well, she was my best friend. We shared everything, we liked the same things and we both had a passion for music. You could even go so far as to say that we were obsessed with music.
We could sum up a day, a feeling, a moment, anything with music. We used music to talk to each other when our words failed.
I say she was my best friend because it implies that she isn’t anymore. I wish she was, but she can’t be, at least not from where she is. She died two weeks, 3 days and 5 hours ago. I know that counting seems pathetic, but that is how long it has been since I saw her last, since I spoke to her.
We were inseparable, we told each other everything. It wasn’t news to me that she suffered from depression, or that she used self harm as a way to deal with her problems. We both had our fair share of problems, but she had never talked to me about suicide before. Neither of us had ever been down that road, and as far as I knew, we weren’t going to.
She had left me a note, but so far I couldn’t read it, I didn’t have the guts to.
So far for me, living was hard without her. It was suddenly like I had lost a limb, a very important limb.
I hadn’t been to school since; I couldn’t face it without her. She was the only person that made it kind of bearable. Not many teenagers like school and I was definitely one of the majority there, except, I didn’t like school for the people, not the classes. In fact, I loved my classes.
The people at school were a different story; they were all people with money, or people who knew people with money. To get into the school you had to have some form of connections. We did, my uncle personally called the school to get me a position, he was also paying my tuition, much to the disdain of my mother. She didn’t object to it though, she knew it was better than any form of schooling she could provide for me.
My uncle was determined for me to go to this school, this snobbish school full of money, he wanted me to go there because it would be the best education I would ever get, and because it had a strong arts program, something he knew I loved.
My uncle was one of the few other people that understood me, or at the very least let me be myself and didn’t try to force me to be something I’m not. My mother was in no way impressed with anything I did, the way I dressed, the music I liked or the subjects I took. She didn’t want me to be an artist or a musician, no, that lifestyle wasn’t good enough, she wanted me to be a doctor, or a lawyer, something that would give me money and a status. Both of the things I didn’t want.
I would be quite content to go through life completely unnoticed, at this very moment I wanted to disappear off the face of the planet.
“Beth?” came a muffled voice from the other side of the door. I rolled over in my bed and pulled the covers up to my chin. “Bethany?”
The door opened, I didn’t look up to see who it was. I just wanted to be alone; it had been all I wanted since she died.
“Hey Kid” said the person sitting on the end of my bed, it was my uncle. I rarely got to see him because his business took him all over the world and kept him busy. He had no children, and I don’t think had any intention of having any, I guess that is why he paid so much attention to me.
I didn’t bother replying, but I sat up to look at him. He was well dressed, a black suit, he probably came straight from a meeting. His hair was slightly dishevelled, like always.
“I’m sorry about Elena” he said, his hand wiping the hair out of my face. Her name was like a punch to the stomach, all the air felt like it had been knocked from my body. I hadn’t spoken, or heard it in so long. It was painful to hear.
“I heard you’ve stopped going to school” he continued, breaking the silence that hung in the air. “I know its painful Beth, but you have to keep going. She may be gone but your life hasn’t and won’t stop.” I looked at him like he had grown an extra head. I opened my mouth to retaliate, but he cut me off. “I know you don’t want to hear this, and I’m sorry to have to be the one to put my foot down. I pay for your schooling, and it is my pleasure to do it, but I want you to go back. Your education is not something I want you to throw away. If you want to talk to someone about all this you know my number, and if you don’t want to talk to me I am happy to pay for you to see, talk to or be around people you do want to.”

“It’s not the same without her” I said softly.

“It never will be, but sitting here in your room is not going to change anything and it sure as hell is not going to bring her back” he replied. “Do you think she would want you to be living like this without her?”

“That’s not a fair question to ask” I muttered.

“But I asked it. Think about it Beth. I want to hear that you are back in school at the very least. I might not be around very often, but I do know what is going on” he replied. “I’ve got to go I have a plane to Italy to get on, but I wanted to come and see you before I left. I needed to make sure that you weren’t going insane and that you were still at least breathing.”

“Thanks” I whispered.

“Someone has to look out for you” he smiled, his hand resting on my shoulder. “I’ll be back in a few weeks; I’ll make sure to track you down.”

“Okay” I nodded. As quickly as he came he was gone, leaving behind the faint smell of his cologne.
As much as I didn’t really want to admit it, he was right. I was wasting my time here. Sure, I was sad and upset, but life did go on, as painful as a life seemed without her.
I rolled back over in my bed and closed my eyes, welcoming the darkness, letting it engulf me.
Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide,
No escape from reality.
I played songs over and over in my head, trying to pretend that this wasn’t my life, this wasn’t happening to me. One day I would wake up, one day I’d walk away.
People would think that I lived a charmed life, I had a seemingly loving family, I went to a rich school, I had an uncle that was willing to foot any bills. My life wasn’t the fairytale people believed it to be.
I was a social outcast because in a school full of rich kids I was a middle class art student, I had an alternative taste in music, my best friend was dead and on top of that my family was nothing near perfect. In fact, my mother and I barely ever spoke, mainly because when we did we argued. She wanted me to be something I wasn’t and refused to acknowledge me for what I wanted to be. I guess that is why my uncle and I were so close, he was both the father and mother I wished I had.
My father was a whole other topic in himself, a dead beat drug addict who skipped out and re-appeared when he needed something, always claiming that he was trying to change. My mother, being the glutton for punishment always accepted him.
I guess it really was lucky that I was an only child. It meant that no one else had to suffer through this hell.
When I was younger I used to wish that my uncle would come and whisk me away, take me to all the exotic places he visited, I wished that he would adopt me. As I grew up I grew out of this fantasy.
Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance
For a break that would make it okay
There’s always some reason
To feel not good enough
And it’s hard at the end of the day
With my eyes closed I reached under my pillow and pulled out a worn envelope. It was her letter to me, the last words she wanted me to have, from her. It was worn because I had spent many nights running my hands over it, wanting to open it, but being too scared.
In the darkness I ran my hands over the worn edges, feeling them curve under my fingers. I wanted to read it, but the fear of what she wanted to say kept me from opening it. The fear of what she said and what she didn’t say the sadness of her being dead, the reality that she was gone, gone and never coming back.
Reading it would make it final, reading it would make it real. I didn’t want it to be real. I so desperately wanted this all to be a dream; I wanted to wake up tomorrow and find her in my room, flipping through my CD’s like always, or she’d be on the floor in the corner, her head stuck in a book because she couldn’t sleep. No matter how much I wanted it, life would never go back to what it used to be.
I let the darkness claim me, letting my mind wander as sleep took me over.

******

Dressing for school consisted of throwing on whatever clothing I could find first. On many occasions I had been tempted to wear my pyjamas to school, but knew that it would put me on even worse terms with the teachers. Sometimes I wondered if the only reason they tolerated me was because of my uncle and his huge fat wallet.
School would seem like a safe place for many teenagers, for me, the only place in the whole building that felt safe was the art room. The rest of the school felt like a prison, which I guess would only feel worse without her by my side.
I had decided that if I felt like it was getting too much I would just go home, but in order to try to make my uncle happy, I would go and at least try to continue my education. He at the very least deserved me to try for him.
Walking through the familiar doors didn’t at all feel the same. The halls felt empty and my stomach was in knots. I had never felt this way in my life, in a school full of thousands of students I felt so very alone. Life without her was never going to be easy.

******

The mere thought of being away on a school based trip was not something that at all appealed to me. The fact that it would indeed be a camping trip didn’t give it any more credit. I could think of nothing worse than forcefully being made to bond with my fellow classmates while performing mindless exercises.
“Sir you know that no matter how many so called bonding year level retreats will not make me any more or less popular than I already am. You and I both know that my attendance would be an utter waste of time. I should think spending that time more wisely, like here in school, catching up on the work that I missed, would be a more productive and satisfactory use of my time” I reasoned with my co-ordinator. He was a middle aged, slightly overweight, balding Catholic Priest, it would seem that no matter how unpopular the Catholic church seemed to get, Priests did, in fact, still exist.
“Bethany, you’ve tried this a thousand times. Year level retreats are a compulsory part of the school curriculum, and you must attend them unless it is physically or emotionally unreasonable for you to do so” he sighed sitting himself in his old leather chair.

“But sir, it is unreasonable for me to attend” I protested.

“I’m afraid that being unpopular is not a valid reason Bethany” he replied pulling his reading glasses onto his the end of his nose. “I know that this will not be a pleasant activity for you, and therefore me, but I am afraid you must attend.”

“I think it is cruel for you to make me go” I sighed.

“Bethany you think that everything I do to you is cruel” he replied. “I won’t hear another argument about this, you are attending this retreat.”

“I’m not playing any of those stupid games” I huffed.

“Now that was a battle I was hoping to leave up to someone else, but, I will not force you to participate in every activity. I will make you do whatever I see fit, but you will be excused from activities which I know will not suit you” he replied. It was as if we had somewhat reached a compromise, only he was the one that got everything he wanted and I got to keep my life vest so I didn’t drown.
I turned and walked out of his office, stopping to pick up my bag. The student reception room was fairly empty; people only came here when they were in trouble, or if they were in need of seeing the counsellor for any reason. It was a rather uncool place to be seen, and for this very reason it was a place I found myself very often.

“You forgot something” came a voice from behind me, I spun in my spot, had I moved any faster I think I would have suffered whiplash. I was surprised that someone else was close enough to me that I could hear them, when I had entered the room there seemed to only be one other person in the far corner.
The source of the startling noise was a boy, a boy I knew of rather well. He picked up my I-Pod, so carelessly left discarded on the seat. I held out my hand to accept the object we both knew belonged to me. He turned it over in his hands to see what music I was listening to, at least that is what I assumed he was doing seeing as there could be no other possible explanation.
“Debussy?” he asked me.

“Clair de Lune” I nodded, taking the device from his hands having given up on waiting for him to return it to me. “It’s my favourite” I added.

“I didn’t take you for the classical type” he said with a knowing smirk on his face.

“Tristan?” the voice of the secretary interrupted us. “The father will see you now.”

“That’s funny” I snapped. “I didn’t take you for the religious type.” I put my headphones in my ears and walked away from him without as much as a backward glance. He was one of the reasons I so very much hated this school.
Tristan Huntsberger, as if the name itself were not enough, his family’s money and his choice in friends made it even more impossible to like him. If my life were a teenage drama he would play the popular rich kid who has everything and whose friends made my life a living hell. As if he wasn’t annoying enough, he just so happened to be brilliant at everything, a straight A student, a star athlete and a given to get into any Ivy League college.
My meeting with the Father had gone quicker than I expected, so I found myself with some extra time on my hands. Classes were still going, which meant that no matter where I went it was sure to be quiet.
Whenever I found myself with ‘free time’ I usually went to one of three places, the art room, the music school, or the roof. The art room and music school were places I went when I needed to study, vent, or just get out whatever emotion it was that was eating me alive, the roof was where I went if I needed to think. These days I spend most of my time on the roof, ironically though, trying not to think.
The thing about this school that gets to me the most is its beauty, for something that can be so horrible it sure is beautiful. The old stone buildings, oak trees, paved paths, green grass, stained glass windows; it was something from a fairytale.
Our spot on the roof overlooked the main oval of the school, surrounded by tall oak trees with the administration building looming in the back ground. From up there you could see almost everything, but no one could really see you.