(Romeo and Juliet)
Once upon a time there was a young man named Romeo. He met a beautiful girl named Juliet. Romeo was so happy when he met her, he ran through the streets ballet dancing and singing about a girl name Maria.
(West Side Story)
She said her hands were cold. He said her face was warm. Romeo gives Juliet a beautiful ring to wear.
(Lord of the Rings)
Romeo told her that when you set the ring on fire, words would glow off the ring. Romeo had just slipped it on her finger when an old voice screamed out from behind them. They turned and saw a wizard with a white staff running toward them. He yanked Romeo away from Juliet and called him a fool. Romeo watched as Juliet started to change.
(Harry Potter)
Romeo’s head exploded in pain. His hand jumped to the lightning scar on his forehead. The beautiful Juliet transformed into Romeo’s arch nemesis Lord Voldemort. Romeo and Voldemort drew wands. Voldemort shouted Adada Kedavra at the same time Romeo screamed Expeliarmus. Voldemort collapsed to the ground, never to rise again. Romeo wept for the loss of Juliet while Gandalf shouted for joy over the destruction on Voldemort. Romeo hardened himself as his other arch nemesis appeared and started walking towards him.
(Star Wars)
Darth Vader reached out his hand and Gandalf rose into the air holding his throat. “Join the dark side,” he rumbled. “Never,” screamed Romeo, “you killed my father.” Darth Vader laughed. “No Romeo, I am your father,” he said. “Noooooooooooooo!” Romeo bellowed.
(Spiderman)
Then, Spiderman swooped out of the sky and knocked Darth Vader into a brick wall. He ran to Romeo and said, “You’re coming with me.” Before Romeo had a chance to argue, Spiderman had grabbed hold of him and they were swinging through the sky. They landed on the roof of a skyscraper. A shadow emerged from behind a wall.
(Wolverine)
Sharp metal knives protruded from his knuckles. When he saw Spiderman he called out to unseen others. Others started to emerge.
(Superman Returns)
(The Dark Knight)
(Ironman)
Before Romeo, stood Spiderman, Superman, Batman, Ironman, and Wolverine. Romeo asked nervously, “What do you want with me?” Batman stepped forward and started talking. “Have you noticed a sudden increase in the amount of villains?” Romeo nodded.
(Twilight)
“The evil vampire Edward has turned all the villains into vampires like himself. Their mission is to drink all the blood out of the human race.
(Peter Pan)
(Pirates of the Caribbean)
We are trying to recruit the help of the werewolves but they will only help if our forces are joined by Peter Pan and Captain Jack Sparrow. They are sworn mortal enemies. It is up to you to recruit them.” “Why me?” “Peter Pan only trusts boys like himself. Sparrow is afraid of magic,” he nodded toward Romeo’s wand. “Here’s your ride now.”
(Back to the Future)
The Dolorian shot through the air out of nowhere. It slid to a stop in front of Romeo. The door opened and Romeo slid in next to the Doc. The doors closed and lights flashed around the Dolorian. It stopped and the door lifted open. Romeo stepped out and found himself on a pirate ship. A gunshot rang through the air. “Missed me, Sparrow!” Peter called down from his perch in the rigging. “Oh bugger,” Sparrow muttered. “Get down here and fight me like a man!” Romeo ran up to Jack and pulled out his wand. “Stop Sparrow, the forces of good need you.” Sparrow turned on him, “You want me to join the forces of good? I’m Captain Jack Sparrow, mate. Savvy. I’m a pirate.” He suddenly noticed the wand. “What are you going to do with that, poke me?” Sparrow started walking away looking for a good place to shoot Peter from. “Lumos,” Romeo called. A ball of light appeared in front of Jack. Sparrow turned around, “I’m in.” Peter swooped down and landed gently next to Romeo. Romeo turned to him and said, “The forces of good need your help.” “What have the forces of good ever done for me?” Peter sneered. Doc got out of the Dolorian. “I just got news, Edward heard about us recruiting you. They have the real Juliet,” he turned to Peter, “and Wendy.” Romeo and Peter both stared open mouthed at Doc. Sparrow came up behind them and clamped his hands on their shoulders. “Well,” he smiled, “let go save your bonny lasses, lads.” They climbed into the Dolorian and sped off. The car started shaking. “What’s wrong with this contraption?” Sparrow yelled. Doc pulled out of the time stream.
(The Titanic)
They climbed out and found themselves on a giant cruise ship. Doc lifted the hood and stared at the engine. He looked up at his passengers and said one word. “Sabotage.” Screams began to fill the air. The deck started to tilt at an alarming angle. Doc, Jack, Romeo, and the Dolorian slid down the ship. Peter launched himself into the air and took a survey of the scene. The S. S. Titanic had a massive gash and was taking on water. Peter looked for his allies and saw the Dolorian leaning precariously on a rail at the end of the ship. Doc had his head under the tilted hood. Jack was holding on to a life preserver nearby. Peter landed by Jack. He had to yell to be heard. “Where’s Romeo?” “How should I know?” Sparrow yelled back. Doc yelled, “She’s fixed! Hop in!” “We can’t leave without Romeo,” Peter hollered. He shot up along the deck searching. Peter was almost back to where they had arrived when he saw Romeo. His shirt was caught on some metal and he couldn’t free himself. Peter looked and saw the Dolorian floating in the water alongside the ship. Peter landed next to Romeo and started hacking at the fabric. He’d just freed Romeo when the almost vertical ship snapped in half. Romeo was freefalling through the air. Peter wasn’t quick enough to catch him and he disappeared into the water. Peter braced himself and dove down after him. Doc and Sparrow watched anxiously from the Dolorian. A minute passed before they saw two heads break through the surface. Jack breathed a silent sigh of relief. “We ain’t got time for swimmin’! Your girlies are waitin’ for you.” They swam through the water and climbed, shivering, into the Dolorian. Lights flashed and the next time it stopped they were back in the present.
* * * * *
The room was dark. Edward sat watching his beloved Bella as she slept. It didn’t’ matter that she didn’t love him. He would keep her with him forever. Wendy and Juliet were being kept elsewhere, but Bella would never leave his side. So he watched her. Someone came into the room. “They have recruited the flying boy and the pirate. Now the werewolves will join them,” the vampire Darth Vader reported. Edward never took his eyes off Bella as she opened her eyes at the sound of his voice, “They won’t be much help. Jacob would never let them do anything that would harm Bella.” Bella cowered in her corner and thought of her beloved Jacob. She knew she would never ne encircled by his embrace all because of this fiend called Edward. His black eyes could look straight into her soul, leaving her vulnerable. His voice sent pain through her very core.
(Transformers)
“Send in the Decepticons,” he order Vader. Darth Vader left to fulfill his errand. Edward moved toward the cowering girl. He lifted her to her feet and pulled her close to him. He breathed in her scent as tears streamed down her cheeks.
* * * * *
The doors of the Dolorian opened and the four passengers emerge. The five heroes were waiting for them as well as two others. On was Jacob Black, and the other was none other than Romeo’s Hogwarts mentor, Lupin. A grin spread across Lupin’s face when he saw Peter Pan and Captain Jack Sparrow. “Well done, Romeo!” he exclaimed. Then he put his hand on Jacob’s shoulder, “I guess it’s time to ho save dear Bella.” An awful roar filled the air. From every side of the building rose massive transformers. Megatron roared once again then shouted, “Attack!” Lupin gathered Jacob, Peter, and Romeo together. “It’s up to you. Stop Edward or the whole human race perishes.” He ducked as Spiderman was thrown over his head.
(The Lightning Thief)
“There is a boy named Percy Jackson at the bottom of the Empire State building. He will help you.
(Indiana Jones)
“With him is Indiana Jones. The five of you must defeat Edward or perish trying.” Jacob, Peter, and Romeo ran down the stairs. Romeo and Jacob ran through the town while Peter flew ahead of them. They found Indiana and Percy and quickly talked while Peter kept watch from the air.
(King Kong)
“All cle—,” he started to say as a massive, furry hand plucked out of the sky. “Peter!” Romeo screamed. Jacob started to pull Romeo down the street to the vampire headquarters. “We don’t have time!” he growled. “He saved my life! I can’t just leave him!” Romeo shouted at him. Jacob looked back at Romeo and released his arm. Romeo sprinted back to the Empire State building. He raised his wand and shouted, “Accio firebolt!” The broom flew through the air to Romeo and he hopped on. He flew up to the giant monkey squeezing Peter. There was a look of pain on the flying boy’s face. He flew to Peter. “Where’s your knife?” he asked. “I already tried that!” Peter grunted. “It didn’t work!” “We need something bigger,” Romeo muttered. He looked down and saw a flash. He dove down and saw Percy’s sword. Percy jumped onto the broom with Romeo. They flew up and Percy stabbed King Kong in the arm above Peter. The ape opened his hand and screamed in pain. Peter shot out of his grasp and the three flew to the ground. They joined Indiana and Jacob. They went as fast as they could to the vamp HQ.
(?)
Two minutes later they were at the old movie theater and immediately found themselves surrounded by ninja’s. “I’ll take care of them,” Percy said, uncapping his sword. “You go on.” Peter decided to stay and help while Indiana, Jacob, and Romeo continued on. They started running down a hallway when Darth Vader appeared. “So, we meet again Han Solo, for the last time!” Darth Vader said to Indiana Jones. Indie pulled out his whip and snapped it at Vader’s leg. It caught hold and Darth Vader went down hard. “Not on my watch.” He turned to Romeo and Jacob, “You two go on. I’ll deal with him.” Romeo and Jacob ran on, further and further into the dark building.
* * * * *
Juliet and Wendy were talking quietly in a small room. “I know Peter will come. He would never desert me,” Wendy said proudly. Juliet wasn’t listening, “Romeo, Romeo, where for art thou, Romeo?” Wendy sighed and stared off into a corner. They both heard the sound of running feet from the hall. They stopped before they reached the door. Jacob had stopped and was pointing down as adjoining hall, “Edward is down there.” “Are you sure?” Romeo asked. “Positive,” Jacob responded, “I can smell him, Romeo.” Juliet caught her breath. Romeo was here. She scampered across the floor to the door. “Romeo!” Romeo froze. “Juliet?” he murmured softly. Then louder. “Juliet!” He ran to the door. Locked. Jacob pulled Romeo away from the door. “Move Juliet.” Jacob kicked the door, and it snapped in half. Romeo ran into the room and gathered the crying Juliet into his arms. “I’m here,” he whispered. “I’m here.” Jacob pushed past them. There was another girl in the room, but no Bella. The girl came up to him, an intent look in her eyes. “Where’s Peter?” she demanded. Jacob was taken aback by her force. He pointed down the hall, “He’s fighting the ninjas.” She let out a grunt of frustration and started running down the hall towards the battle. Romeo and Jacob watched her run. A cold voice chilled them to the bone. “Well, well, well. Look who decided to join the party.” Romeo put Juliet behind him and turned to see Edward. He stood ten feet away, his hand gripped tightly on Bella’s wrist. Her eyes were brimmed with tears as she locked eyes with Jacob. She watched as his anger became greater and greater. Romeo pushed Juliet back into the room and pulled out his wand. “No,” Jacob rumbled, “he’s mine.” Jacob transformed into his werewolf self. Edward smiled and let go of Bella’s wrist. She scurried away from him and went to Romeo. “Are you okay?” She nodded. He tried to send her into the room with Juliet, but she wouldn’t go. Jacob launched onto Edward and the battle began.
* * * * *
Percy and Peter had finished with the ninja’s was wiping clean his sword. He turned to Peter, “I’m going to take a look around.” He turned on his heel and walked away. Peter turned the other way abruptly as he heard his name being called. He stumbled back as Wendy crashed into him. He wrapped her up in his arms and held her tight. Now that she was with him, the tears started to flow. “I thought . . . I thought . . .” she started to murmur. “Shhhhh.” Peter quieted her. “I would never let anything happen to you.” Wendy looked up into his eyes. Her eyes widened at something over his shoulder. “Peter—!” she cried out. A gunshot interrupted her. Peter turned around. A ninja was standing over them with a sword raised above his head. The ninja swayed on its feet before collapsing on the ground. Captain Jack Sparrow was standing 30 feet back with his pistol raised. He lowered it. “I’m the only one allowed to kill you boy. Always remember that.”
* * * * *
The fight was intense, with neither side gaining the advantage. Suddenly Edward lifted the struggling Jacob and threw him at the wall. Jacob’s wolf head hit the wall hard. He sank to the floor, whimpering. Edward laughed maniacally as he stood over the wolf. Romeo and Bella were watching immovable at the door.
(The Phantom of the Opera)
A quiet voice whispered in her ear, “Kill him.” She turned around and saw a man with a white mask covering half of his face. He held a knife out to her. Bella lifted the blade from his hand and turned back to the battle. She stepped out into the hall. She looked over her shoulder, but the phantom was gone. She walked up behind Edward and stabbed the knife into his heart. The laugh cut off abruptly. She turned the knife and stepped away. Edward pulled the knife out and turned to face her. He looked down at the knife then into her eyes. He plunged the knife into her stomach. She stepped back in shock and pain. Edward grabbed her shoulders and pulled her close to him. “If I have to go, so do you.” They slid to the floor. It would have been romantic if it hadn’t been so morbid and Bella hadn’t hated him. The light faded from their eyes. Jacob transformed back to human form and cried. Bella was gone. Romeo watched in shock as the events unfolded. Juliet walked up behind him and he held her tight. The rescue group slowly arrived from various places in the theater. They stood as a silent audience to Jacob’s pain. Romeo released Juliet and walked over to Jacob. He crouched down in front of him and waited. The tears stopped and Jacob looked up at Romeo with blank eyes. They stood up and the group left the building. They parted ways from Percy and Indiana and headed towards the roof. The Decepticons were gone as well as the heroes. Lupin and the Doc were the only ones left waiting. Jacob walked to Lupin and shook his head. Lupin placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Romeo and Juliet said goodbye to Peter, Wendy, and Jack. The three climbed into the Dolorian with Doc and they disappeared into the past. The couple walked over to the two werewolves. Lupin smiled as he had an idea. He pulled out his cell phone and made a quick call. Ten minutes later a beautiful girl with long red hair stepped onto the roof. Jacob’s eyes got big and he was immediately at her side. “Jacob,” he introduced himself. She smiled brightly at him, “Ginny.” Jacob’s pain was forgotten. Romeo and Juliet went down to ground level, walking hand in hand. “I love you,” they told each other. Romeo smiled gaily. If you looked closely, you could see his glistening fangs.
* It is important to note that when a vampire is stabbed by a knife given to you by the Phantom of the Opera results in death, no questions asked.
Showing posts with label Short Stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Short Stories. Show all posts
Monday, March 14, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
The Fortune Unfulfilled
We sat for what seemed like a long time, but, in reality, the time flew by. Our date was coming to a close. As if by magic, our fortune cookies appeared on a plate. I chose one and carefully opened. It read, “A movie would be a great way to relax this weekend.” What?
“So Jen,” Kyle started hesitantly, “do you want to, you know, go to my house and watch a movie or something?”
I looked down at my fortune cookie, considering. Today was a Monday, not exactly the weekend, but close enough, right?
I smiled at him. “Sure, a movie sounds great.”
He drove me to his house and allowed me inside. Yep, it looked exactly how I ‘d pictured a rich-boy’s house would: High vaulted ceilings, white walls, white furniture, beautiful chandelier, and last but not least, a marvelous black grand piano. The black stuck out starkly in the white room, but at the same time seemed to harmonize with it. Spotlights were aimed right at it, and I noticed it was set on its own little stage.
A hunger deep inside me longed to run my fingers over the keys, having the glorious sounds wash over and around me. I glanced at Kyle as he led me to the theatre room, and I felt a hunger of a different sort.
I don’t much remember the movie. All I can remember is snuggling on the couch with Kyle Anthony. The Kyle. Captain-of-the-football-team Kyle. All around great guy and 4.0 student. I couldn’t stop thinking, Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh!
Before I realized it, the movie was over, and Kyle was driving me home. I began to grow sad that our time was almost at an end. He opened my door, and escorted me to the house. “Thank you,” I told him, “I had a really good time.” I gave him a hug before turning to enter my house.
His hand reached out and grabbed my shoulder, turning me around. He was really close. My breath caught in my throat. An intense look was on his face. Slowly his lips came down on mine.
A car flashed past, bringing us back to reality. He pulled away and smiled at me. “I had a great time,” he whispered to me softly.
I know I was smiling like a fool as he back walked to his car and drove away. I slid down the front door, and sat on my step. There was no way I could go inside now. I needed air some air, quick.
I stood up shakily, reliving the moment in my head again and again. I stumbled down the driveway, and made my way to the park around the corner. A lonely swing set beckoned to me. I collapsed in the swing, deeply breathing in the night.
I sat there for probably a half hour, listening to the swing creak. Soft starlight gleamed down on me. Everything was at peace. I closed my eyes and sighed contentedly. It was quiet, almost . . . too quiet. My sixth sense perked up, and I listened intently to the silence, trying to detect what was different. Crickets, that was it, I couldn’t hear any crickets. Their eerie melody had lulled me into my peaceful state; now their tune was absent. But what would cause them to cease so suddenly? Crickets only stopped chirping when someone was too . . . close . . .
I jumped out of the swing and began running toward my house. I went crashing to the ground as someone broadsided me with a flying tackle. A scream escaped my mouth, but my assailant was quick to slap a hand down on my face. Roughly, I was yanked to my feet. One arm encircled my waist, pinning my arms to my side; the other stayed planted firmly over my mouth.
I struggled to escape to no avail. My captor simply lifted all five-feet-three-inches of me from the ground. He carried me to the blue Mazda Civic I hadn’t noticed pull up. Wait, my brain began to whirl, a blue Civic exactly like the one Bryan drove. BRYAN?! Not only was Bryan Mitchell not some random jerk from school, he was my best friend. It couldn’t possibly be Bryan.
Yet every step we took closer to the car, the surer I was that it was his Civic, and that my captor was Bryan. But . . . why? Was this all some stupid prank he’d come up with? I was angry at him, but decided I’d play along and stopped struggling.
We were only a few feet away from the car then. Bryan popped the trunk with a button on his keys. He turned me around so I was facing him. He whispered gruffly, “Are you going to scream if I move my hand away?”
I glared at him.
“Do you promise not to scream?” he tried again, angrier.
I continued to glare at him, but nodded all the same.
He hesitantly removed his hand, watching me carefully. He spun around, quickly searching through his trunk for something.
“Bryan,” I growled, getting louder with each word, “what do you think—?”
I was cut off abruptly as he swung around and slapped me. Hard. I reeled back, and stood in shock as he finished searching through his car. He pulled something out.
Next thing I knew, he’d slipped a gag over my head. Before I could fight back, he had my arms pinned again, and was securing them in front of me with duck tape. He covered the gag in my mouth over with duck tape as well to be safe. Looking confused into his eyes, I saw an anger I hadn’t noticed before. I knew that this wasn’t some practical joke, it was the real deal.
He lifted me easily, despite my struggling, and slipped me into the trunk. All light was shut out as the hood slammed down. Sounds of the engine turning over reached me. It started, and the car began its journey to who knows where.
Tears began spilling from my eyes. What was going on? What made Bryan go so dark? Why was he turning his anger on me? I was so confused. I tried making a map in my mind as we drove, but got hopelessly lost amid all the turns. His soccer ball continually bounced off my head to make matters worse.
After what seemed like forever, but was actually only a few minutes, the car came to a stop. Above me, the hood opened and Bryan yanked me out. I knew immediately where we were. Bryan firmly guided me towards his garage which his parents had let him convert into a bedroom. We went inside and he firmly locked the door behind us.
He stepped around me and walked to the center of the room. He began rolling up the rug that sat in the middle. Why was he doing that? My question was answered as I saw a trap door revealed.
My eyes widened and I backed into the wall. Bryan lifted the door than walked back to me. He grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the hole. After a bit of wrestling, I found myself in the cellar.
It was a small room that he’d placed a television and a small couch in. A radio sat next to the TV on the ground. Light in the room came from the small trapdoor in the ceiling. The shear amount of everything that was happening caught up to me, and I found myself collapsing on the couch.
Bryan suddenly appeared in front of me, having descended down the ladder. I shrank into the couch. His face softened and he reached out and stroked my cheek. I tensed as he plopped down next to me on the couch. He pulled me toward him and hugged me, all the while stroking my cheek, my hair.
I’d been holding it back for too long. Tears started pouring from my eyes. Bryan rocked me gently. “I’m sorry,” he whispered softly in my ear. “I’m so sorry.”
I got angry. From my position all I could see was my duck taped wrists. Sorry my foot, I screamed in my mind. I jammed my elbow into his ribcage.
He yelled out in pain and threw me off of him. My head adequately broke my fall. I saw stars floating around me. Bryan came and grabbed my arm pulling me to my feet. I tried not to wince in pain as his fingers dug into my skin. He was more angry than I’d ever seen him before.
“My patience is limited,” he hissed. “We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. Which will it be?”
Idiot, I thought. It’s not exactly like I could answer with my mouth tapped shut. I glared at him.
He laughed without mirth and dropped me on the couch. “Since you are obviously too dimwitted to understand the magnitude of what is happening allow me to explain.” He began pacing back and forth in front of me. “You are my prisoner. Why, you might ask, we were always such good friends?” He stopped and leaned over me, putting his hands on my knees. “Such. Good. Friends,” he reiterated with gritted teeth.
He resumed pacing. “For years I’ve hung patiently on your every word, catering to your every whim. Waiting, hoping for the day you would look to me with the same longing I’ve always had for you.”
He stopped walking and turned away from me. When he resumed talking his voice was quiet, deadly, “Then you took it all and throw it back in my face, Jen. I’m driving home from work, and what do I see?” His voice was becoming slowly louder, “I see you, on your front porch, making out with Kyle Anthony!” His voice holds such venom it shocks me.
He faced me again, “My patience ran out. Now it’s my time for a day in the sun. On Friday we’re leaving. Going somewhere they can never find us, somewhere we can be together forever. And that’s not even the best part,” his eyes had taken on an evil gleam.
How could I have never seen this side off him before, after all the time we’d spent together the last few years.
“The best part,” he continued, “is that when you are reported missing, everyone will blame the last person you were seen with. The boy who dutifully dropped you off at your house after your date!”
My eyes widened. He was right of course. Nobody knew that Kyle had returned me home. Everyone would blame him for my disappearance. Sweet, wonderful Kyle would have no way to disprove the accusations. No one would think to look at the distraught best friend of Jennifer Goodwin.
Bryan watched gleefully as these thoughts flashed through my head. “Now you finally understand. And just think,” he added, “if you’d waiting until the weekend to have your moment, none of this would have ever happened. I’d have been working my graveyard shift at the gas station and would’ve never known.”
Bryan turned away from me and ascended the ladder. He pulled it up after him, and looked down at me from the hole above. “I’ll leave you to turn that over a few times in your pretty little head. And in case you get any ideas, know that this room is soundproof. It shouldn’t be too hard to escape from that tape, so I’ll leave you to that.” He smiled at me, but the smile held no warmth. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” He shut the trap door and left me alone in the dark.
My mind reeled. Words from the fortune cookie spun over and over in my head. A movie would be a great way to relax this weekend . . . this weekend . . . this weekend. I had dismissed it because it was only a fortune cookie, right? But it had been true. If we’d waited until the weekend, Bryan would have never known. The fortune had been telling me something, and I had disregarded its warning. Now, not only would I suffer, poor Kyle would too.
I tried not to think about that. I worked at the tape until it stretched enough for me to slip my hands out. With a quick pull, I yanked the tape from my face. It stung and I screamed but the gag pretty well smothered it. I slid the gag off and took a few shaky breaths. I curled up on the couch, wrapping my arms around myself. After that, I cried myself to sleep.
When I awoke in the morning, I didn’t want to open my eyes. I snuggled down deeper into the blankets. Someone was shaking my shoulder. I knew that if I woke up, I’d have to go to school. I swatted at the hand. “Five more minutes, mom,” I pleaded groggily.
I heard a bellowing laugh. Wait, that didn’t sound like my mom. I opened my eyes and saw Bryan standing over me. “Sorry love,” he whispered in my ear, “there’s an amber alert on the news I thought you’d want to see.” Everything all came rushing back to me.
I sat up as he went to turn the TV on. A big-haired anchorwoman was telling all about how one Jennifer Goodwin had never made it home after her date last night with 18-year-old Kyle Anthony. Police had him in custody but had yet to learn anything about my whereabouts. All through her story, my yearbook picture blared at me from the top right hand corner of the screen.
I hadn’t noticed Bryan sitting down next to me, holding my hand, until he used the remote to turn the volume down. I glanced over at him and snatched my hand away. “You’re sick!” I growled at him.
He didn’t try to deny. “It will be okay,” he started instead, “I’m sure they’ll find Kyle guilty and you’ll never have to worry about crushing that boy’s heart.”
Bryan saw my fist clench and stood up before I could sock him.
He smiled at me and pointed to a button on his shirt. “You see this button?” he asked. “This button has been fitted with a small microphone. I’ve had it programmed so that if you turn that radio on,” he explained, indicating the radio in the corner, “you’ll hear everything I hear and say. That way you can be in the midst of your investigation.”
I wanted to punch him. Oh how I wanted to punch him. But for some reason, I couldn’t find the strength in my legs to launch myself at him.
He glanced at his wristwatch. “Sorry Jen, I’ve gotta go. Can’t be late for school.” He ran his fingers through his hair a few times, disheveling it. He arranged his facial features so it looked like he was on the verge of breaking. “How do I look?” he asked.
“Awful,” I spit, “distraught isn’t a good look for you.”
He laughed heading for the ladder. “I don’t have to look good,” he told me as he climbed, “I only have to look convincing. My best friend was just kidnapped you know.” He pulled up the ladder and shut the trap door, leaving me in the glow of the quiet TV.
An hour later and throughout the rest of the day, I found myself curled in a ball on the couch curled around the radio and watching the TV. I watched and listened with a morbid fascination. I found that I was unable to turn either off. A news station had dedicated themselves to my search. A man with a mustache I wanted to rip off interviewed my parents, my neighbors, my teachers, Kyle’s prosecutors, and Bryan. While watching my parents cry was bad, the part I hated most was watching Bryan. Even knowing that he’d kidnapped me, I still felt myself being bought over by his lies and accusations against Kyle. I had to repeatedly remind myself that he’d kidnapped me and Kyle was the good guy. I could only imagine what it was doing to everyone else. I had no idea that Bryan was such a brilliant actor. What other things had he lied to me about?
Listening to the radio was nearly as bad. People, my friends, would stop him in the hall and offer their sincerest apologies. He lied up a storm, even Kyle’s football buddies were taken over to the dark side. In the mind of the school, Kyle Anthony had become the enemy.
Bryan had left a box of food sitting on the floor, but I was unable to find the energy to go to it. Much to my satisfaction, I found a door, which I had not previously seen, leading to a bathroom.
When Bryan came back at 5:00, I didn’t bother acknowledging him, but he seemed fine with that. He pulled the radio away from me and set it on the floor. Next, he sat down on the couch and pulled me into his lap. He trailed kisses down my neck and the side of my face. He buried his face in my hair and nibbled my ear, all the time whispering to me of his love and promising me we’d be together forever. I let him because I lacked the energy and motivation to resist. I tried imaging the rest of my life, and it brought tears to my eyes. Bryan wiped them away with a gentle finger, telling me it would be alright, but more rushed to fill their place.
Something on the television caught my attention. It was Kyle! Mustache man was at his house interviewing him. Kyle was angry. He denied being involved with my disappearance and wished people would consider the idea that he had nothing to do with it. He slammed his front door in the man’s face. Bryan had stopped fondling over me and started watching the news as well. Mustache was saying that the police were unable to pin anything on Kyle and had been forced to release him. He would be returning to school the following day.
“Is he telling the truth America?” Mustache questioned in conclusion. “Does Mr. Anthony know her whereabouts or was it another who is responsible for her disappearance as he claims. Could it possibly be serial or was it maybe even one of the nice people we interviewed today? Join us again in one hour as we continue with all the latest on the Jennifer Goodwin case.” Mustache disappeared and the people in the studio were back offering their comments.
Bryan picked up the remote and the TV went black. He rolled me off of him, and began his restless pacing. I only halfheartedly listened to his ramblings about Kyle and how all his plans were falling apart. I thought about Kyle and was happy he was clear. I also feared what he would face at school the next day. He would find everyone against him. He would suffer mercilessly. I prayed he would decide to stay home.
Bryan stopped pacing and looked at me. I saw an idea come to his head and knew immediately I wouldn’t like it. He was up the ladder and back with a paper and pen in hand before I could even think about escaping after him. He shoved the pen into my hand and pulled me roughly to the floor. His hand grabbed my wrist and forced my hand over the paper.
“I need you to write something for me,” he began. “I need you to write that Kyle has you hostage and you need someone to save you.”
Horror coursed through me, and I tried to get away. Bryan’s grip on me was iron and I was unable to move.
“Write it!” he screamed at me. His nails dug into my wrist. Tears fell onto the paper and I found myself writing. One of his nails broke skin and a single drop of blood fell onto the paper as I finished. He ripped away my finished product and bounded up the ladder.
I curled up on the floor holding my wrist as the ladder and light disappeared. I’d sentenced Kyle to prison because I was too weak to resist. “I’m sorry!” I screamed to him, even though he couldn’t hear me. “I’m sorry!”
I couldn’t believe this was actually happening to me. I was a good person. All I had ever wanted to do was play the piano. Aside from school and “friends”, piano was my life.
I didn’t see Bryan the rest of the day or the next morning.
As Bryan was at school the following day, he gave me a play-by-play as often as he could via microphone. Kyle was being attacked on every corner. Bryan made sure to be there for the most vicious attacks. Kyle was the only thing people were talking about. It was no longer sadness over me, but anger over Kyle.
During fourth period, Bryan asked if he might use the hall pass. He was going to the locker room, he explained to me as he walked down the hall. It was football period and he was going to plant my note in Kyle’s locker, thus adequately framing him for my disappearance.
When he entered the locker room I could almost smell the sweat coming through the radio. “Let’s see,” Bryan wondered aloud for my benefit, “which one of these lockers is Kyle’s. Oh,” he exclaimed, “it must be that one over there with ‘I hate you’ and ‘murderer’ written all over in permanent marker.” My heart clenched.
“Now we take out the note,” he continued, “and slip it—.”
“What are you doing!?” I heard Kyle’s voice come in. I could practically see Bryan standing at the locker with the note only partway in.
“I was,” Bryan stammers, “I was just—.”
Kyle didn’t let him finish. I heard Bryan being cut short as he’s slammed into the lockers. I heard the sound of paper unfolding. Kyle began to read, “’To whomever finds this note. Help. This is Jen—,’” Kyle’s voice cracked here, and he had to stop and take a breath before continuing. “Jennifer Goodwin. Kyle is holding me hostage. I don’t know where. Please find me.’”
There was a long pause. I imagined Kyle looking at the smudges left by my tear and also looking at the blood.
“Where is she?” Kyle asked so quiet I can barely make it out.
Bryan doesn’t respond.
“I know this is her handwriting! Where is she, Mitchell?!”
When Bryan spoke, his voice was calm, “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Mitchell!” Kyle roared.
Silence.
“Wait,” Kyle comments, thinking, “you were talking to yourself when I walked in here. You’re bugged aren’t you?” It was more of a statement than an actual question question. “Jen? Can you hear me?”
My breath caught. He was talking to me.
“It’s going to be alright, okay? Hang in there, I’ll find you.”
He stopped talking as I heard a crash followed by a groan. Next I heard running feet as Bryan ran away. No more talking to me, no more joking around. I knew Bryan was coming to take me away. It was earlier than he’d planned, but sometimes you have to make do with what you’ve got, and his window of time was rapidly narrowing.
Ten minutes later, the trap door opened and Bryan descended, duck tape in hand. He was all business. He looked around but didn’t see me. I watched him run to bathroom door and yank at it. Locked. He began yelling for me to come out. I stood up quietly from behind the couch and moved to the ladder. I launched myself up it, knowing speed was now more important than stealth.
I’d barely climbed out of the hole when a hand reached out and grabbed my ankle. I kicked at but to no avail. Bryan was on top of me, gagging and duck tapping my mouth as well as my hands. He lifted me to my feet, and led me none so gently to the door. He threw it open and pushed me ahead of him outside. I tried screaming, despite the duck tape, as he escorted me to his car.
He froze. I looked up from my efforts to see Kyle standing 15 feet away watching slack-jawed.
Before Bryan had time to react, I went limp, becoming deadweight in his arms. My maneuver distracted Bryan, giving Kyle adequate time to attack Bryan. And he took it.
Kyle jumped at Bryan as if all the food had vanished in the world, and Bryan was holding a pizza.
I heard police sirens and saw squad cars pulling up in front of Bryan’s house. Kyle climbed off of the dazed Bryan as police officers swarmed the property.
While this was happening I’d managed to escape the duck tape again. I’d just ripped it off my face when I was suddenly, as if by magic, enfolded in Kyle’s arms, and it was all over.
As my life continues from this point on, there is one thing I will never do again: leave a fortune unfulfilled.
“So Jen,” Kyle started hesitantly, “do you want to, you know, go to my house and watch a movie or something?”
I looked down at my fortune cookie, considering. Today was a Monday, not exactly the weekend, but close enough, right?
I smiled at him. “Sure, a movie sounds great.”
He drove me to his house and allowed me inside. Yep, it looked exactly how I ‘d pictured a rich-boy’s house would: High vaulted ceilings, white walls, white furniture, beautiful chandelier, and last but not least, a marvelous black grand piano. The black stuck out starkly in the white room, but at the same time seemed to harmonize with it. Spotlights were aimed right at it, and I noticed it was set on its own little stage.
A hunger deep inside me longed to run my fingers over the keys, having the glorious sounds wash over and around me. I glanced at Kyle as he led me to the theatre room, and I felt a hunger of a different sort.
I don’t much remember the movie. All I can remember is snuggling on the couch with Kyle Anthony. The Kyle. Captain-of-the-football-team Kyle. All around great guy and 4.0 student. I couldn’t stop thinking, Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh!
Before I realized it, the movie was over, and Kyle was driving me home. I began to grow sad that our time was almost at an end. He opened my door, and escorted me to the house. “Thank you,” I told him, “I had a really good time.” I gave him a hug before turning to enter my house.
His hand reached out and grabbed my shoulder, turning me around. He was really close. My breath caught in my throat. An intense look was on his face. Slowly his lips came down on mine.
A car flashed past, bringing us back to reality. He pulled away and smiled at me. “I had a great time,” he whispered to me softly.
I know I was smiling like a fool as he back walked to his car and drove away. I slid down the front door, and sat on my step. There was no way I could go inside now. I needed air some air, quick.
I stood up shakily, reliving the moment in my head again and again. I stumbled down the driveway, and made my way to the park around the corner. A lonely swing set beckoned to me. I collapsed in the swing, deeply breathing in the night.
I sat there for probably a half hour, listening to the swing creak. Soft starlight gleamed down on me. Everything was at peace. I closed my eyes and sighed contentedly. It was quiet, almost . . . too quiet. My sixth sense perked up, and I listened intently to the silence, trying to detect what was different. Crickets, that was it, I couldn’t hear any crickets. Their eerie melody had lulled me into my peaceful state; now their tune was absent. But what would cause them to cease so suddenly? Crickets only stopped chirping when someone was too . . . close . . .
I jumped out of the swing and began running toward my house. I went crashing to the ground as someone broadsided me with a flying tackle. A scream escaped my mouth, but my assailant was quick to slap a hand down on my face. Roughly, I was yanked to my feet. One arm encircled my waist, pinning my arms to my side; the other stayed planted firmly over my mouth.
I struggled to escape to no avail. My captor simply lifted all five-feet-three-inches of me from the ground. He carried me to the blue Mazda Civic I hadn’t noticed pull up. Wait, my brain began to whirl, a blue Civic exactly like the one Bryan drove. BRYAN?! Not only was Bryan Mitchell not some random jerk from school, he was my best friend. It couldn’t possibly be Bryan.
Yet every step we took closer to the car, the surer I was that it was his Civic, and that my captor was Bryan. But . . . why? Was this all some stupid prank he’d come up with? I was angry at him, but decided I’d play along and stopped struggling.
We were only a few feet away from the car then. Bryan popped the trunk with a button on his keys. He turned me around so I was facing him. He whispered gruffly, “Are you going to scream if I move my hand away?”
I glared at him.
“Do you promise not to scream?” he tried again, angrier.
I continued to glare at him, but nodded all the same.
He hesitantly removed his hand, watching me carefully. He spun around, quickly searching through his trunk for something.
“Bryan,” I growled, getting louder with each word, “what do you think—?”
I was cut off abruptly as he swung around and slapped me. Hard. I reeled back, and stood in shock as he finished searching through his car. He pulled something out.
Next thing I knew, he’d slipped a gag over my head. Before I could fight back, he had my arms pinned again, and was securing them in front of me with duck tape. He covered the gag in my mouth over with duck tape as well to be safe. Looking confused into his eyes, I saw an anger I hadn’t noticed before. I knew that this wasn’t some practical joke, it was the real deal.
He lifted me easily, despite my struggling, and slipped me into the trunk. All light was shut out as the hood slammed down. Sounds of the engine turning over reached me. It started, and the car began its journey to who knows where.
Tears began spilling from my eyes. What was going on? What made Bryan go so dark? Why was he turning his anger on me? I was so confused. I tried making a map in my mind as we drove, but got hopelessly lost amid all the turns. His soccer ball continually bounced off my head to make matters worse.
After what seemed like forever, but was actually only a few minutes, the car came to a stop. Above me, the hood opened and Bryan yanked me out. I knew immediately where we were. Bryan firmly guided me towards his garage which his parents had let him convert into a bedroom. We went inside and he firmly locked the door behind us.
He stepped around me and walked to the center of the room. He began rolling up the rug that sat in the middle. Why was he doing that? My question was answered as I saw a trap door revealed.
My eyes widened and I backed into the wall. Bryan lifted the door than walked back to me. He grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the hole. After a bit of wrestling, I found myself in the cellar.
It was a small room that he’d placed a television and a small couch in. A radio sat next to the TV on the ground. Light in the room came from the small trapdoor in the ceiling. The shear amount of everything that was happening caught up to me, and I found myself collapsing on the couch.
Bryan suddenly appeared in front of me, having descended down the ladder. I shrank into the couch. His face softened and he reached out and stroked my cheek. I tensed as he plopped down next to me on the couch. He pulled me toward him and hugged me, all the while stroking my cheek, my hair.
I’d been holding it back for too long. Tears started pouring from my eyes. Bryan rocked me gently. “I’m sorry,” he whispered softly in my ear. “I’m so sorry.”
I got angry. From my position all I could see was my duck taped wrists. Sorry my foot, I screamed in my mind. I jammed my elbow into his ribcage.
He yelled out in pain and threw me off of him. My head adequately broke my fall. I saw stars floating around me. Bryan came and grabbed my arm pulling me to my feet. I tried not to wince in pain as his fingers dug into my skin. He was more angry than I’d ever seen him before.
“My patience is limited,” he hissed. “We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. Which will it be?”
Idiot, I thought. It’s not exactly like I could answer with my mouth tapped shut. I glared at him.
He laughed without mirth and dropped me on the couch. “Since you are obviously too dimwitted to understand the magnitude of what is happening allow me to explain.” He began pacing back and forth in front of me. “You are my prisoner. Why, you might ask, we were always such good friends?” He stopped and leaned over me, putting his hands on my knees. “Such. Good. Friends,” he reiterated with gritted teeth.
He resumed pacing. “For years I’ve hung patiently on your every word, catering to your every whim. Waiting, hoping for the day you would look to me with the same longing I’ve always had for you.”
He stopped walking and turned away from me. When he resumed talking his voice was quiet, deadly, “Then you took it all and throw it back in my face, Jen. I’m driving home from work, and what do I see?” His voice was becoming slowly louder, “I see you, on your front porch, making out with Kyle Anthony!” His voice holds such venom it shocks me.
He faced me again, “My patience ran out. Now it’s my time for a day in the sun. On Friday we’re leaving. Going somewhere they can never find us, somewhere we can be together forever. And that’s not even the best part,” his eyes had taken on an evil gleam.
How could I have never seen this side off him before, after all the time we’d spent together the last few years.
“The best part,” he continued, “is that when you are reported missing, everyone will blame the last person you were seen with. The boy who dutifully dropped you off at your house after your date!”
My eyes widened. He was right of course. Nobody knew that Kyle had returned me home. Everyone would blame him for my disappearance. Sweet, wonderful Kyle would have no way to disprove the accusations. No one would think to look at the distraught best friend of Jennifer Goodwin.
Bryan watched gleefully as these thoughts flashed through my head. “Now you finally understand. And just think,” he added, “if you’d waiting until the weekend to have your moment, none of this would have ever happened. I’d have been working my graveyard shift at the gas station and would’ve never known.”
Bryan turned away from me and ascended the ladder. He pulled it up after him, and looked down at me from the hole above. “I’ll leave you to turn that over a few times in your pretty little head. And in case you get any ideas, know that this room is soundproof. It shouldn’t be too hard to escape from that tape, so I’ll leave you to that.” He smiled at me, but the smile held no warmth. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” He shut the trap door and left me alone in the dark.
My mind reeled. Words from the fortune cookie spun over and over in my head. A movie would be a great way to relax this weekend . . . this weekend . . . this weekend. I had dismissed it because it was only a fortune cookie, right? But it had been true. If we’d waited until the weekend, Bryan would have never known. The fortune had been telling me something, and I had disregarded its warning. Now, not only would I suffer, poor Kyle would too.
I tried not to think about that. I worked at the tape until it stretched enough for me to slip my hands out. With a quick pull, I yanked the tape from my face. It stung and I screamed but the gag pretty well smothered it. I slid the gag off and took a few shaky breaths. I curled up on the couch, wrapping my arms around myself. After that, I cried myself to sleep.
When I awoke in the morning, I didn’t want to open my eyes. I snuggled down deeper into the blankets. Someone was shaking my shoulder. I knew that if I woke up, I’d have to go to school. I swatted at the hand. “Five more minutes, mom,” I pleaded groggily.
I heard a bellowing laugh. Wait, that didn’t sound like my mom. I opened my eyes and saw Bryan standing over me. “Sorry love,” he whispered in my ear, “there’s an amber alert on the news I thought you’d want to see.” Everything all came rushing back to me.
I sat up as he went to turn the TV on. A big-haired anchorwoman was telling all about how one Jennifer Goodwin had never made it home after her date last night with 18-year-old Kyle Anthony. Police had him in custody but had yet to learn anything about my whereabouts. All through her story, my yearbook picture blared at me from the top right hand corner of the screen.
I hadn’t noticed Bryan sitting down next to me, holding my hand, until he used the remote to turn the volume down. I glanced over at him and snatched my hand away. “You’re sick!” I growled at him.
He didn’t try to deny. “It will be okay,” he started instead, “I’m sure they’ll find Kyle guilty and you’ll never have to worry about crushing that boy’s heart.”
Bryan saw my fist clench and stood up before I could sock him.
He smiled at me and pointed to a button on his shirt. “You see this button?” he asked. “This button has been fitted with a small microphone. I’ve had it programmed so that if you turn that radio on,” he explained, indicating the radio in the corner, “you’ll hear everything I hear and say. That way you can be in the midst of your investigation.”
I wanted to punch him. Oh how I wanted to punch him. But for some reason, I couldn’t find the strength in my legs to launch myself at him.
He glanced at his wristwatch. “Sorry Jen, I’ve gotta go. Can’t be late for school.” He ran his fingers through his hair a few times, disheveling it. He arranged his facial features so it looked like he was on the verge of breaking. “How do I look?” he asked.
“Awful,” I spit, “distraught isn’t a good look for you.”
He laughed heading for the ladder. “I don’t have to look good,” he told me as he climbed, “I only have to look convincing. My best friend was just kidnapped you know.” He pulled up the ladder and shut the trap door, leaving me in the glow of the quiet TV.
An hour later and throughout the rest of the day, I found myself curled in a ball on the couch curled around the radio and watching the TV. I watched and listened with a morbid fascination. I found that I was unable to turn either off. A news station had dedicated themselves to my search. A man with a mustache I wanted to rip off interviewed my parents, my neighbors, my teachers, Kyle’s prosecutors, and Bryan. While watching my parents cry was bad, the part I hated most was watching Bryan. Even knowing that he’d kidnapped me, I still felt myself being bought over by his lies and accusations against Kyle. I had to repeatedly remind myself that he’d kidnapped me and Kyle was the good guy. I could only imagine what it was doing to everyone else. I had no idea that Bryan was such a brilliant actor. What other things had he lied to me about?
Listening to the radio was nearly as bad. People, my friends, would stop him in the hall and offer their sincerest apologies. He lied up a storm, even Kyle’s football buddies were taken over to the dark side. In the mind of the school, Kyle Anthony had become the enemy.
Bryan had left a box of food sitting on the floor, but I was unable to find the energy to go to it. Much to my satisfaction, I found a door, which I had not previously seen, leading to a bathroom.
When Bryan came back at 5:00, I didn’t bother acknowledging him, but he seemed fine with that. He pulled the radio away from me and set it on the floor. Next, he sat down on the couch and pulled me into his lap. He trailed kisses down my neck and the side of my face. He buried his face in my hair and nibbled my ear, all the time whispering to me of his love and promising me we’d be together forever. I let him because I lacked the energy and motivation to resist. I tried imaging the rest of my life, and it brought tears to my eyes. Bryan wiped them away with a gentle finger, telling me it would be alright, but more rushed to fill their place.
Something on the television caught my attention. It was Kyle! Mustache man was at his house interviewing him. Kyle was angry. He denied being involved with my disappearance and wished people would consider the idea that he had nothing to do with it. He slammed his front door in the man’s face. Bryan had stopped fondling over me and started watching the news as well. Mustache was saying that the police were unable to pin anything on Kyle and had been forced to release him. He would be returning to school the following day.
“Is he telling the truth America?” Mustache questioned in conclusion. “Does Mr. Anthony know her whereabouts or was it another who is responsible for her disappearance as he claims. Could it possibly be serial or was it maybe even one of the nice people we interviewed today? Join us again in one hour as we continue with all the latest on the Jennifer Goodwin case.” Mustache disappeared and the people in the studio were back offering their comments.
Bryan picked up the remote and the TV went black. He rolled me off of him, and began his restless pacing. I only halfheartedly listened to his ramblings about Kyle and how all his plans were falling apart. I thought about Kyle and was happy he was clear. I also feared what he would face at school the next day. He would find everyone against him. He would suffer mercilessly. I prayed he would decide to stay home.
Bryan stopped pacing and looked at me. I saw an idea come to his head and knew immediately I wouldn’t like it. He was up the ladder and back with a paper and pen in hand before I could even think about escaping after him. He shoved the pen into my hand and pulled me roughly to the floor. His hand grabbed my wrist and forced my hand over the paper.
“I need you to write something for me,” he began. “I need you to write that Kyle has you hostage and you need someone to save you.”
Horror coursed through me, and I tried to get away. Bryan’s grip on me was iron and I was unable to move.
“Write it!” he screamed at me. His nails dug into my wrist. Tears fell onto the paper and I found myself writing. One of his nails broke skin and a single drop of blood fell onto the paper as I finished. He ripped away my finished product and bounded up the ladder.
I curled up on the floor holding my wrist as the ladder and light disappeared. I’d sentenced Kyle to prison because I was too weak to resist. “I’m sorry!” I screamed to him, even though he couldn’t hear me. “I’m sorry!”
I couldn’t believe this was actually happening to me. I was a good person. All I had ever wanted to do was play the piano. Aside from school and “friends”, piano was my life.
I didn’t see Bryan the rest of the day or the next morning.
As Bryan was at school the following day, he gave me a play-by-play as often as he could via microphone. Kyle was being attacked on every corner. Bryan made sure to be there for the most vicious attacks. Kyle was the only thing people were talking about. It was no longer sadness over me, but anger over Kyle.
During fourth period, Bryan asked if he might use the hall pass. He was going to the locker room, he explained to me as he walked down the hall. It was football period and he was going to plant my note in Kyle’s locker, thus adequately framing him for my disappearance.
When he entered the locker room I could almost smell the sweat coming through the radio. “Let’s see,” Bryan wondered aloud for my benefit, “which one of these lockers is Kyle’s. Oh,” he exclaimed, “it must be that one over there with ‘I hate you’ and ‘murderer’ written all over in permanent marker.” My heart clenched.
“Now we take out the note,” he continued, “and slip it—.”
“What are you doing!?” I heard Kyle’s voice come in. I could practically see Bryan standing at the locker with the note only partway in.
“I was,” Bryan stammers, “I was just—.”
Kyle didn’t let him finish. I heard Bryan being cut short as he’s slammed into the lockers. I heard the sound of paper unfolding. Kyle began to read, “’To whomever finds this note. Help. This is Jen—,’” Kyle’s voice cracked here, and he had to stop and take a breath before continuing. “Jennifer Goodwin. Kyle is holding me hostage. I don’t know where. Please find me.’”
There was a long pause. I imagined Kyle looking at the smudges left by my tear and also looking at the blood.
“Where is she?” Kyle asked so quiet I can barely make it out.
Bryan doesn’t respond.
“I know this is her handwriting! Where is she, Mitchell?!”
When Bryan spoke, his voice was calm, “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Mitchell!” Kyle roared.
Silence.
“Wait,” Kyle comments, thinking, “you were talking to yourself when I walked in here. You’re bugged aren’t you?” It was more of a statement than an actual question question. “Jen? Can you hear me?”
My breath caught. He was talking to me.
“It’s going to be alright, okay? Hang in there, I’ll find you.”
He stopped talking as I heard a crash followed by a groan. Next I heard running feet as Bryan ran away. No more talking to me, no more joking around. I knew Bryan was coming to take me away. It was earlier than he’d planned, but sometimes you have to make do with what you’ve got, and his window of time was rapidly narrowing.
Ten minutes later, the trap door opened and Bryan descended, duck tape in hand. He was all business. He looked around but didn’t see me. I watched him run to bathroom door and yank at it. Locked. He began yelling for me to come out. I stood up quietly from behind the couch and moved to the ladder. I launched myself up it, knowing speed was now more important than stealth.
I’d barely climbed out of the hole when a hand reached out and grabbed my ankle. I kicked at but to no avail. Bryan was on top of me, gagging and duck tapping my mouth as well as my hands. He lifted me to my feet, and led me none so gently to the door. He threw it open and pushed me ahead of him outside. I tried screaming, despite the duck tape, as he escorted me to his car.
He froze. I looked up from my efforts to see Kyle standing 15 feet away watching slack-jawed.
Before Bryan had time to react, I went limp, becoming deadweight in his arms. My maneuver distracted Bryan, giving Kyle adequate time to attack Bryan. And he took it.
Kyle jumped at Bryan as if all the food had vanished in the world, and Bryan was holding a pizza.
I heard police sirens and saw squad cars pulling up in front of Bryan’s house. Kyle climbed off of the dazed Bryan as police officers swarmed the property.
While this was happening I’d managed to escape the duck tape again. I’d just ripped it off my face when I was suddenly, as if by magic, enfolded in Kyle’s arms, and it was all over.
As my life continues from this point on, there is one thing I will never do again: leave a fortune unfulfilled.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
And the Walls Came Tumbling Down - a tragedy
Her hopes, her dreams, her future; gone. Everything was ruined. She couldn’t feel her body. Cries of the helpless barely registered. All she could see was a small patch of sky where the roof had collapsed. Sky the color of blood. The massive weight of the shingles and concrete was making it increasingly difficult to breath. She felt completely and utterly alone. Closing her eyes she willed death to claim her.
Images of the disaster flashed behind her eyelids: Nate kneeling on the ground, a ring in his hand; the bomb striking; Nate knocked down, lost in the rubble; the wall leaning, falling on top of her. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. Nothing except the pain, but even that seemed to be lessening as she floated farther and farther from the land of the living. Pain wasn’t the only thing that lessened, she noticed. The weight of the debris seemed to be lightening as well. Someone seemed to be calling her name. Nate? Yes, Nate, clearing rubble from her shattered body. A portion of wall was lifted away and there he was. Tears had created pathways through the grime down his cheeks.
He managed to extract her from her prison. He pulled her close and cradled her. “Jessie,” he said hoarsely, “you can't desert me. Not like this.” His despair was plain to see.
Jessie reached up and cupped his face in her hand. A face she’d dreamed of seeing every morning for all her days; a gentle face that portrayed such love and compassion. Never would her dreams be fulfilled. She was dying. “I love you,” she whispered. She wasn’t aware of the
tears streaming from her own eyes until Nate softly whipped them away. “Don’t leave me,” she pleaded.
Nate distraughtly opened and closed his mouth over and over, but no words came out. He features changed and he became angry, “Don’t be saying your goodbyes, Jessie. You’re going to live a full life, you hear me? A full life. I’ll take good care of you. Nothing will ever separate us,” his voice became quieter, the anger disappearing just as quickly as it’d come. “I love you Jessie. I can’t go on without you.”
A sudden calm overcame her. It wasn’t from Nate’s words. Death was imminent. She felt it closing around her like a vise. But she felt only peace. She wanted to share her peace with her love. “Nathan, I’m dying.” He opened his mouth to interrupt, but she overrode him. “Accept it. I’m going to be gone and you’ll need to move on. Please try.” Her voice was weak and she was unable to add more. She made one final request, “Will you sing to me Nate? That song you used to sing when we kids?” She held eye contact with him until he nodded. She closed her eyes and let his voice run like silk over her skin.
“The river flows, soft and sweet,
Gently ebbing forth to greet,
The brand new day, the summer sun,
Even when disaster come.
Amid the storms, though great and strong,
It travels on, it sings its song.
The rains bring on its strongest power,
Even in the darkest hour."
Jessie was happy. She felt amazing. All her pain had disappeared. She opened her eyes and saw her long dead mother beckoning.
Nate stopped singing. Jessie was gone. There was no doubt. He took a deep breath and pushed the fierce pain away. He looked up at the blood red sky. Just as he was about to look away a plane flew across the sky, a bomber plane. Most likely the very one that had caused him to lose Jessie. Confusion split his thoughts as he recognized the insignia on the bomber. It was one of the president’s own elite force jets. Why would the president bomb one of his own cities? Nate mulled over the question. A plan began to form in his mind. He had no purpose for remaining in this place of memories. He welcomed the opportunity to go search out the reason for this great betrayal. He wouldn’t rest until he solved the mystery and avenged his love.
Images of the disaster flashed behind her eyelids: Nate kneeling on the ground, a ring in his hand; the bomb striking; Nate knocked down, lost in the rubble; the wall leaning, falling on top of her. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. Nothing except the pain, but even that seemed to be lessening as she floated farther and farther from the land of the living. Pain wasn’t the only thing that lessened, she noticed. The weight of the debris seemed to be lightening as well. Someone seemed to be calling her name. Nate? Yes, Nate, clearing rubble from her shattered body. A portion of wall was lifted away and there he was. Tears had created pathways through the grime down his cheeks.
He managed to extract her from her prison. He pulled her close and cradled her. “Jessie,” he said hoarsely, “you can't desert me. Not like this.” His despair was plain to see.
Jessie reached up and cupped his face in her hand. A face she’d dreamed of seeing every morning for all her days; a gentle face that portrayed such love and compassion. Never would her dreams be fulfilled. She was dying. “I love you,” she whispered. She wasn’t aware of the
tears streaming from her own eyes until Nate softly whipped them away. “Don’t leave me,” she pleaded.
Nate distraughtly opened and closed his mouth over and over, but no words came out. He features changed and he became angry, “Don’t be saying your goodbyes, Jessie. You’re going to live a full life, you hear me? A full life. I’ll take good care of you. Nothing will ever separate us,” his voice became quieter, the anger disappearing just as quickly as it’d come. “I love you Jessie. I can’t go on without you.”
A sudden calm overcame her. It wasn’t from Nate’s words. Death was imminent. She felt it closing around her like a vise. But she felt only peace. She wanted to share her peace with her love. “Nathan, I’m dying.” He opened his mouth to interrupt, but she overrode him. “Accept it. I’m going to be gone and you’ll need to move on. Please try.” Her voice was weak and she was unable to add more. She made one final request, “Will you sing to me Nate? That song you used to sing when we kids?” She held eye contact with him until he nodded. She closed her eyes and let his voice run like silk over her skin.
“The river flows, soft and sweet,
Gently ebbing forth to greet,
The brand new day, the summer sun,
Even when disaster come.
Amid the storms, though great and strong,
It travels on, it sings its song.
The rains bring on its strongest power,
Even in the darkest hour."
Jessie was happy. She felt amazing. All her pain had disappeared. She opened her eyes and saw her long dead mother beckoning.
Nate stopped singing. Jessie was gone. There was no doubt. He took a deep breath and pushed the fierce pain away. He looked up at the blood red sky. Just as he was about to look away a plane flew across the sky, a bomber plane. Most likely the very one that had caused him to lose Jessie. Confusion split his thoughts as he recognized the insignia on the bomber. It was one of the president’s own elite force jets. Why would the president bomb one of his own cities? Nate mulled over the question. A plan began to form in his mind. He had no purpose for remaining in this place of memories. He welcomed the opportunity to go search out the reason for this great betrayal. He wouldn’t rest until he solved the mystery and avenged his love.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
The Unforgettable Truth - A Salute to Vampires
“Why can’t you be what we want you to be?” the echoes of Vincent, Chief Ellison, and the other islanders chased him through the dark corridor. Doors along the hall wouldn’t open to let him in. One solitary door remained open. He charged into the room and slammed the door shut. Sounds of pounding fists emanated across the solid oak. He stumbled back, struggling to escape the hold of the voices. An unseen thing on the floor tripped him up and he went crashing to the ground. He turned and his heart jumped to his throat. Kaylynne was sprawled out on the floor in a pool of her own blood. She was gasping her last breaths. “Blake,” she called, tears streaming down her cheeks. An overwhelming desire begins to overcome him. “No!” he screams. “Never again!”That life is gone. Her scent fills him and he finds himself leaning forward, bent on consuming her . . .
Blake jerked awake. He was alone in his room, away from the voices and the horrible truth. His clock read 4:00 a.m. No way he’d be going back to sleep any time soon. He slid out of bed and pulled on a hoodie over his rumpled shirt before slipping out of his crummy apartment. Dense fog shrouded the neighborhood: a perfect white screen to project his dreams onto. He walked down the silent street until he reached the park. His vision of Kaylynne dying was still fresh in his mind. But worse than that had been his dream self’s reaction. Blake thought he was strong enough to resist the desire. Now he wasn’t so sure. He collapsed on a bench and pushed away the thoughts that threatened to consume him.
His sensitive ears picked up the sound of someone approaching. The person’s gait was as familiar to him as his own. He didn’t look up as she sat down softly beside him. A curl of desire twisted in his stomach. “What are you doing here, Kaylynne?” he asked, resigned.
“I couldn’t sleep,” her voice quavered. She was afraid of him. “I saw you walking and I thought, you know, maybe you might want some company . . .” She let the sentence hang.
Blake glanced at her. Even as she sat stiff and rigid, he couldn’t help but be amazed at her beauty. “You shouldn’t be here,” he mumbled softly, keeping a tight rein on himself. When she made no move to leave he stood and started walking away.
Kaylynne jumped to her feet and went after him. She snatched his arm and suddenly they were only inches apart. Blake couldn’t move. She had him right where she wanted him and he was helpless to refuse. She edged forward slightly until their lips touched. Flames coursed through him, flames and something else. Her taste left him intoxicated. He wanted more. He had to have more . . .
Blake pulled away from her, astonished at his weakness. Kaylynne was watching him, her face a blank slate. It was becoming too dangerous for him to stay much longer. He would need to skip town, maybe even the state, anything to get away from her. “Kaylynne, I’m sorry. I can’t—”
Kaylynne cut him off abruptly, “I know what you are!”
Blake reeled back in horror. How was it possible? She couldn’t know. “What?” he managed to gasp.
“I know what you are,” her words were barely above a whisper. Tears pooled in her blue eyes.
Blake was just able to take hold of himself, “So what am I?”
An exasperated sigh burst from her lips. “It’s completely obvious. All the signs are there. I’m not stupid you know.” She stopped and waited for a response. When one didn’t come she murmured, “You’re a vampire.” She seemed slightly embarrassed now that she’d expressed her thoughts aloud.
She became even more so when Blake burst out laughing. “You’ve been reading too much Stephanie Meyer, sweetheart. Ain’t no such thing as vampires.”
Shamefaced, Kaylynne asked quietly, “Then what are you?”
All the humor drained from Blake in an instant. Fine, he thought dryly. If she really wanted to know, he would tell her. Perhaps then she’d leave him alone. “I’m a cannibal.”
Blake jerked awake. He was alone in his room, away from the voices and the horrible truth. His clock read 4:00 a.m. No way he’d be going back to sleep any time soon. He slid out of bed and pulled on a hoodie over his rumpled shirt before slipping out of his crummy apartment. Dense fog shrouded the neighborhood: a perfect white screen to project his dreams onto. He walked down the silent street until he reached the park. His vision of Kaylynne dying was still fresh in his mind. But worse than that had been his dream self’s reaction. Blake thought he was strong enough to resist the desire. Now he wasn’t so sure. He collapsed on a bench and pushed away the thoughts that threatened to consume him.
His sensitive ears picked up the sound of someone approaching. The person’s gait was as familiar to him as his own. He didn’t look up as she sat down softly beside him. A curl of desire twisted in his stomach. “What are you doing here, Kaylynne?” he asked, resigned.
“I couldn’t sleep,” her voice quavered. She was afraid of him. “I saw you walking and I thought, you know, maybe you might want some company . . .” She let the sentence hang.
Blake glanced at her. Even as she sat stiff and rigid, he couldn’t help but be amazed at her beauty. “You shouldn’t be here,” he mumbled softly, keeping a tight rein on himself. When she made no move to leave he stood and started walking away.
Kaylynne jumped to her feet and went after him. She snatched his arm and suddenly they were only inches apart. Blake couldn’t move. She had him right where she wanted him and he was helpless to refuse. She edged forward slightly until their lips touched. Flames coursed through him, flames and something else. Her taste left him intoxicated. He wanted more. He had to have more . . .
Blake pulled away from her, astonished at his weakness. Kaylynne was watching him, her face a blank slate. It was becoming too dangerous for him to stay much longer. He would need to skip town, maybe even the state, anything to get away from her. “Kaylynne, I’m sorry. I can’t—”
Kaylynne cut him off abruptly, “I know what you are!”
Blake reeled back in horror. How was it possible? She couldn’t know. “What?” he managed to gasp.
“I know what you are,” her words were barely above a whisper. Tears pooled in her blue eyes.
Blake was just able to take hold of himself, “So what am I?”
An exasperated sigh burst from her lips. “It’s completely obvious. All the signs are there. I’m not stupid you know.” She stopped and waited for a response. When one didn’t come she murmured, “You’re a vampire.” She seemed slightly embarrassed now that she’d expressed her thoughts aloud.
She became even more so when Blake burst out laughing. “You’ve been reading too much Stephanie Meyer, sweetheart. Ain’t no such thing as vampires.”
Shamefaced, Kaylynne asked quietly, “Then what are you?”
All the humor drained from Blake in an instant. Fine, he thought dryly. If she really wanted to know, he would tell her. Perhaps then she’d leave him alone. “I’m a cannibal.”
A Dream Come True
“Wow,” I said, “I’m likin’ that!”
Everyone in the room started to laugh. My cheeks flushed in embarrassment at their unexpected reaction. This sort of situation tended to happen to me a lot. Something would come to mind, and I’d find myself saying it aloud.
Tom glanced over at me and smiled his perfect smile. His green eyes sparkled at me, deep emerald pools that captured my very soul. I was, of course, talking about him. He looked away and proceeded to take his seat. I buried my face in a book, but I could still able to feel the pointed stares of my classmates.
After what seemed like an eternity, the bell rang and I fled from the classroom. I all but ran to my locker. I leaned my head against the cool metal. I was probably just paranoid, but it felt like everyone’s eyes watched me. I jerked my locker open and grabbed my books. I slammed door shut and started running to my car. Instead, I ran straight into Tom. We fell to the ground in a jumble of arms, legs, and books.
If I was embarrassed before, now I was completely humiliated. I felt like a tomato. I scrambled to gather my books from the ground. I went to grab my notebook and found Tom’s hand over mine. I froze. Tom picked up the rest of my books and helped me to my feet.
“Are you okay?” he asked. His voice laced with concern.
I couldn’t talk. My mouth gapped open like a loser. I nodded dumbly.
He smiled at me. My heart began pounding loud. I was certain he could hear it. I reached to take my books from him but he shook his head. His arm slid until it draped around my shoulder. Surely I would fall dead on the spot.
I stood there like a fool waiting for him to leave. I still hadn’t managed to say anything. I just wanted to go home and cry. I plucked up my courage and mumbled a small, “Thanks.” I moved to open my car, but he placed his hand on the door preventing my escape.
Suddenly he was real close to me, his face mere inches from my own. He placed his hands on my waist, adequately preventing me from collapsing dead on the spot. His head moved till it was right next to her ear.
BEAP, BEAP, BEAP! BEAP, BEAP, BEAP! My eyes shot open and I found myself in the darkness of my room. The time on my alarm clock read 6:00. I groaned and stuff my head under my pillow. Time to wake up for another day of school.
Everyone in the room started to laugh. My cheeks flushed in embarrassment at their unexpected reaction. This sort of situation tended to happen to me a lot. Something would come to mind, and I’d find myself saying it aloud.
Tom glanced over at me and smiled his perfect smile. His green eyes sparkled at me, deep emerald pools that captured my very soul. I was, of course, talking about him. He looked away and proceeded to take his seat. I buried my face in a book, but I could still able to feel the pointed stares of my classmates.
After what seemed like an eternity, the bell rang and I fled from the classroom. I all but ran to my locker. I leaned my head against the cool metal. I was probably just paranoid, but it felt like everyone’s eyes watched me. I jerked my locker open and grabbed my books. I slammed door shut and started running to my car. Instead, I ran straight into Tom. We fell to the ground in a jumble of arms, legs, and books.
If I was embarrassed before, now I was completely humiliated. I felt like a tomato. I scrambled to gather my books from the ground. I went to grab my notebook and found Tom’s hand over mine. I froze. Tom picked up the rest of my books and helped me to my feet.
“Are you okay?” he asked. His voice laced with concern.
I couldn’t talk. My mouth gapped open like a loser. I nodded dumbly.
He smiled at me. My heart began pounding loud. I was certain he could hear it. I reached to take my books from him but he shook his head. His arm slid until it draped around my shoulder. Surely I would fall dead on the spot.
I stood there like a fool waiting for him to leave. I still hadn’t managed to say anything. I just wanted to go home and cry. I plucked up my courage and mumbled a small, “Thanks.” I moved to open my car, but he placed his hand on the door preventing my escape.
Suddenly he was real close to me, his face mere inches from my own. He placed his hands on my waist, adequately preventing me from collapsing dead on the spot. His head moved till it was right next to her ear.
BEAP, BEAP, BEAP! BEAP, BEAP, BEAP! My eyes shot open and I found myself in the darkness of my room. The time on my alarm clock read 6:00. I groaned and stuff my head under my pillow. Time to wake up for another day of school.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Spartacus
The man lay on the ground, his lifeblood draining into the earth. Through his eyes the world was surrounded with a red haze. All around him his friends had fallen and were falling. His beloved Tacita knelt over him, tears marking paths down her grime covered cheeks, wails howling through the air. She had torn her leggings and was pressing the fabric against the hole in his stomach. She clung tightly to him, begging him not to die. “Spartacus! Spartacus no! You can’t leave me!”
Someone broke through the crowd of ogling warriors and ran to them. It was his best friend Arrian. He tried talking to Tacita, but her cries overpowered his voice. He shook her roughly until she fell silent. “If we are going to save him we have to make our leave now. The Romans are about to overtake us. We must make our escape,” he explained in a gentle but firm voice. Spartacus closed his eyes and let the words wash over him. He would be gone from the world soon and their words were meaningless to him. A deep sigh escaped his lips as he let his troubles go.
Tacita became more hysterical than before. She tore away from Arrian’s hold and lay sobbing on Spartacus's chest. She wasn't listening to Arrian who was now screaming at her to control herself. But Spartacus was dying, and that was all that mattered to her. Arrian signaled to one of the warriors in the circle. The man stepped forward and ripped Tacita away from Spartacus. Her screams amplified as she was wrestled away from her husband. Over her screams, Arrian called to more warriors. A liter was hastily erected and Spartacus was lifted on. The group set off in the direction of the Bruttium mountains.
Spartacus opened his eyes to view the red, hazy world. A canopy of trees stretched over him. He could feel himself being moved. Why wouldn't these people let him rest? He had led the revolt tirelessly for over two years. Why couldn't they let him rest after all his hard work? Everything was silent, at least there was that. It was as if a bubble had encased him. Tacita was no longer by his side. It saddened him, he wanted to see her one last time.
Arrian appeared over him. His friends lips were moving but Spartacus could hear no sound. Tacita, he tried to say. He felt his jaw move but heard no sound. He tried again, Tacita, where is she? Arrian turned his head and looked at something a little ways off. Spartacus followed his gaze and saw a man carrying his struggling wife. Spartacus smiled, she had always had such spirit. Tacita, he called again. Tacita looked at him and saw him smiling at her. Her struggling became more frantic as she tried to escape her captor. Arrian signaled to the man who then released Tacita.
Tacita sprinted to Spartacus and shoved Arrian away from her husband. The warriors set the liter down and she brushed the hair out of his face, staring into his blue eyes. Her voice penetrated the bubble. “Spartacus, my husband, stay with me,” she begged him, her voice cracking. Tears were carving new tracks down her face.
He reached up and wiped the tears away. She caught his hand and kissed it, crying all the more. “I love you,” he croaked.
She started shaking her head vigorously. “No, no, no! Spartacus no!” She leaned down and kissed him again and again, as if that alone could save him.
Spartacus cupped her face in his hand and whispered, “Let me go.”
“Never,” she said glaring into his gentle face. Her eyes went big with fright from what she saw. She jerked back and screamed for Arrian. She looked back down at Spartacus her breath caught in her throat. She switched to her last resort. Tacita lifted his hand and placed it on her belly. “I'm pregnant Spartacus, I'm pregnant. You can't go, your child needs a father.”
A new pain flickered across his eyes, but he knew that there was nothing he could do to stop his death. And now he would never meet his child. He turned his head and saw Arrian watching them. Arrian stepped closer when Spartacus beckoned. “Will you take care of her, and the child?” he asked softly. Tacita started screaming and clung to him tightly. Spartacus kept eye contact with Arrian until he nodded. Spartacus turned his attention back to his wife. “Tell the child his daddy is very sorry he couldn't be there for him,” he took a deep breath, he was suddenly very tired. “I love you Tacita, always remember that. I'll be waiting for you in the heavens.”
Tacita couldn't find her voice to respond. Spartacus smiled up at her one last time before he closed his eyes and stopped breathing. Thus ended the days of the greatest gladiator that ever lived. Tacita just stared at him, too shocked to even cry. Arrian lifted her to her feet. A few of the warriors came over and lifted the body of Spartacus. Without a word, they carried him over to the fire. Tacita didn't remember them having built that. Arrian led her over to fire and she watched the body of her husband burn.
The following morning Tacita was still standing in the same place. The fire had long sense gone cold. Arrian walked over and knelt by the fire. He solemnly scooped the ashes into a jar. He looked back and saw that Tacita hadn't even noticed him. He stood and handed her the ashes of her husband. She clutched the jar tightly to her chest.
In minutes, there was no sign that the rebel gladiators had ever been there. Everyone started walking deeper into the mountains. Tacita turned away from the campsite and saw Arrian watching her. She walked towards him, and together they followed the rest of the group into the mountains. She didn't look back.
Someone broke through the crowd of ogling warriors and ran to them. It was his best friend Arrian. He tried talking to Tacita, but her cries overpowered his voice. He shook her roughly until she fell silent. “If we are going to save him we have to make our leave now. The Romans are about to overtake us. We must make our escape,” he explained in a gentle but firm voice. Spartacus closed his eyes and let the words wash over him. He would be gone from the world soon and their words were meaningless to him. A deep sigh escaped his lips as he let his troubles go.
Tacita became more hysterical than before. She tore away from Arrian’s hold and lay sobbing on Spartacus's chest. She wasn't listening to Arrian who was now screaming at her to control herself. But Spartacus was dying, and that was all that mattered to her. Arrian signaled to one of the warriors in the circle. The man stepped forward and ripped Tacita away from Spartacus. Her screams amplified as she was wrestled away from her husband. Over her screams, Arrian called to more warriors. A liter was hastily erected and Spartacus was lifted on. The group set off in the direction of the Bruttium mountains.
Spartacus opened his eyes to view the red, hazy world. A canopy of trees stretched over him. He could feel himself being moved. Why wouldn't these people let him rest? He had led the revolt tirelessly for over two years. Why couldn't they let him rest after all his hard work? Everything was silent, at least there was that. It was as if a bubble had encased him. Tacita was no longer by his side. It saddened him, he wanted to see her one last time.
Arrian appeared over him. His friends lips were moving but Spartacus could hear no sound. Tacita, he tried to say. He felt his jaw move but heard no sound. He tried again, Tacita, where is she? Arrian turned his head and looked at something a little ways off. Spartacus followed his gaze and saw a man carrying his struggling wife. Spartacus smiled, she had always had such spirit. Tacita, he called again. Tacita looked at him and saw him smiling at her. Her struggling became more frantic as she tried to escape her captor. Arrian signaled to the man who then released Tacita.
Tacita sprinted to Spartacus and shoved Arrian away from her husband. The warriors set the liter down and she brushed the hair out of his face, staring into his blue eyes. Her voice penetrated the bubble. “Spartacus, my husband, stay with me,” she begged him, her voice cracking. Tears were carving new tracks down her face.
He reached up and wiped the tears away. She caught his hand and kissed it, crying all the more. “I love you,” he croaked.
She started shaking her head vigorously. “No, no, no! Spartacus no!” She leaned down and kissed him again and again, as if that alone could save him.
Spartacus cupped her face in his hand and whispered, “Let me go.”
“Never,” she said glaring into his gentle face. Her eyes went big with fright from what she saw. She jerked back and screamed for Arrian. She looked back down at Spartacus her breath caught in her throat. She switched to her last resort. Tacita lifted his hand and placed it on her belly. “I'm pregnant Spartacus, I'm pregnant. You can't go, your child needs a father.”
A new pain flickered across his eyes, but he knew that there was nothing he could do to stop his death. And now he would never meet his child. He turned his head and saw Arrian watching them. Arrian stepped closer when Spartacus beckoned. “Will you take care of her, and the child?” he asked softly. Tacita started screaming and clung to him tightly. Spartacus kept eye contact with Arrian until he nodded. Spartacus turned his attention back to his wife. “Tell the child his daddy is very sorry he couldn't be there for him,” he took a deep breath, he was suddenly very tired. “I love you Tacita, always remember that. I'll be waiting for you in the heavens.”
Tacita couldn't find her voice to respond. Spartacus smiled up at her one last time before he closed his eyes and stopped breathing. Thus ended the days of the greatest gladiator that ever lived. Tacita just stared at him, too shocked to even cry. Arrian lifted her to her feet. A few of the warriors came over and lifted the body of Spartacus. Without a word, they carried him over to the fire. Tacita didn't remember them having built that. Arrian led her over to fire and she watched the body of her husband burn.
The following morning Tacita was still standing in the same place. The fire had long sense gone cold. Arrian walked over and knelt by the fire. He solemnly scooped the ashes into a jar. He looked back and saw that Tacita hadn't even noticed him. He stood and handed her the ashes of her husband. She clutched the jar tightly to her chest.
In minutes, there was no sign that the rebel gladiators had ever been there. Everyone started walking deeper into the mountains. Tacita turned away from the campsite and saw Arrian watching her. She walked towards him, and together they followed the rest of the group into the mountains. She didn't look back.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
The Boy's Sword
Once upon a time, there was a good witch who lived with her two children, a boy and his sister. The sister was a very fair maiden. The fairest in all the kingdom. One day, the evil king came and kidnapped the sister from her small village so he could take her to wife. The good witch was so heartbroken that she got very sick. She gave the boy a magical sword. A sword that would only work for him, and also make him invincible in combat. She told the boy that her wish for him was to save his sister. After that, she promptly died.
The boy traveled through the brilliant country side of rolling hills until he came to the castle. He waited until it was the dead of night. He swam across the moat avoiding all the creatures that lived within. Then he expertly scaled the wall and carefully dropped down into the inner courtyard. In the deep shadows of the far corner, he could just make out the form of a girl. He strode toward her with newfound determination. Upon getting closer he could make out that she was bound and had a bag over her head. He was halfway across the courtyard when an arrow split through the air over his head and embedded itself in the ground a few feet in front of him. He turned toward his assailant and saw the strident figure of the evil king closely followed by an archer. As they got closer, the boy slid his sword out of its sheath with a soft hiss that rang across the night.
The sword was glowing a soft green, revealing all the powerful magic that lay deep within. The evil king was thence forth, immediately overcome by a profound sense of greed.
The evil king stopped and called over to the boy, “If you give the sword, I’ll give you the girl,” The boy, knowing the sword would only work for him, quickly agreed. He set the sword on the ground and ran over to the girl. He talked quietly to her in a reassuring voice. He pulled the bag off her head. To his surprise, the girl he found was strikingly beautiful, but it wasn’t his sister. He quickly unbound her and turned to face the evil king. The evil king could not lift the sword, but continued to try with all his might. The boy pulled out a dagger and hurled it. It struck the archer square in the chest, killing him instantly. He walked over to the evil king and ripped the sword, still sticking out of the ground, out of his grip.
The evil king stumbled and fell over onto the ground. He started to crawl backward away from his determined pursuer. The evil king stopped in his escape attempt when the point of the glowing sword pricked his neck. The evil king began to beg for forgiveness from the boy for all his evil doings. The boy quickly silenced the evil king’s protestation with a swift, clean swipe of his sword. He cut off the evil head of the king, who never uttered another horrible syllable again.
The boy quickly returned to the side of the beautiful girl, and together they went off in search of the boy’s sister. They soon found her and she was able to return to the village and her worried lover. The girl actually turned out to be the daughter of the evil king. She was so elated to be out from under the throng of the evil king, that she happily married the boy. The reigned together as king and queen for the rest of their days. The magic sword was placed in a vault, deep under the large castle. Nobody in the entire kingdom was able to lift the magic sword. So it sat waiting, in the vault, for the next rightful heir to come and wield it.
The boy traveled through the brilliant country side of rolling hills until he came to the castle. He waited until it was the dead of night. He swam across the moat avoiding all the creatures that lived within. Then he expertly scaled the wall and carefully dropped down into the inner courtyard. In the deep shadows of the far corner, he could just make out the form of a girl. He strode toward her with newfound determination. Upon getting closer he could make out that she was bound and had a bag over her head. He was halfway across the courtyard when an arrow split through the air over his head and embedded itself in the ground a few feet in front of him. He turned toward his assailant and saw the strident figure of the evil king closely followed by an archer. As they got closer, the boy slid his sword out of its sheath with a soft hiss that rang across the night.
The sword was glowing a soft green, revealing all the powerful magic that lay deep within. The evil king was thence forth, immediately overcome by a profound sense of greed.
The evil king stopped and called over to the boy, “If you give the sword, I’ll give you the girl,” The boy, knowing the sword would only work for him, quickly agreed. He set the sword on the ground and ran over to the girl. He talked quietly to her in a reassuring voice. He pulled the bag off her head. To his surprise, the girl he found was strikingly beautiful, but it wasn’t his sister. He quickly unbound her and turned to face the evil king. The evil king could not lift the sword, but continued to try with all his might. The boy pulled out a dagger and hurled it. It struck the archer square in the chest, killing him instantly. He walked over to the evil king and ripped the sword, still sticking out of the ground, out of his grip.
The evil king stumbled and fell over onto the ground. He started to crawl backward away from his determined pursuer. The evil king stopped in his escape attempt when the point of the glowing sword pricked his neck. The evil king began to beg for forgiveness from the boy for all his evil doings. The boy quickly silenced the evil king’s protestation with a swift, clean swipe of his sword. He cut off the evil head of the king, who never uttered another horrible syllable again.
The boy quickly returned to the side of the beautiful girl, and together they went off in search of the boy’s sister. They soon found her and she was able to return to the village and her worried lover. The girl actually turned out to be the daughter of the evil king. She was so elated to be out from under the throng of the evil king, that she happily married the boy. The reigned together as king and queen for the rest of their days. The magic sword was placed in a vault, deep under the large castle. Nobody in the entire kingdom was able to lift the magic sword. So it sat waiting, in the vault, for the next rightful heir to come and wield it.
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