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.

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.”

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.

(1619) section 1

Great Britain 1619

“David Foster, you better tell me what this is about?” Elizabeth asked in frustration. He had been pulling her along for upwards a quarter of an hour through the dense underbrush of the forest. Her skirts had become tangled and torn. Her mom would be hysterical when she saw their state. Hair fell around her shoulders in curly disarray. It felt as though more than one bug had found home in the tangles.

David momentarily paused and looked over his shoulder at her. He flashed her that infuriating half smile of his before turning and continuing his trek. “It’s just a little farther, come on,” he called. She angrily swept a curl from her face before allowing him to resume dragging her along.

She should have expected something like this from him. The gleam in his eyes she saw when she’d found him leaning casually against the barn that morning spoke clearly of mischief. In fact, somewhere deep down she had suspected something. But this was David. For some reason she had never been able to say no to him, much to the dismay of her mother. At 18, she was the bane of her mother’s existence. She could only resist suitors for so long before her father would force her into marriage with someone she might not find as agreeable as others. Some were pleasant enough to be around, but then David would turn up and show her a grand adventure. Elizabeth wasn’t ready to let go of him just yet. Father would not agree to their union. As the youngest of three sons, he had not a penny to his name. He scavenged what little money he could doing odd jobs for local farmers. She herself was also the youngest of three having two older brothers. A match between herself and David was not to happen.

Lost in her musings, Elizabeth nearly crashed into David who had unexpectedly stopped. He glanced at her and she was able to discern the mischievous gleam lighting his emerald eyes. He pulled aside a branch and the foliage opened up before them. Elizabeth gasped and pushed her way past David into the clearing. A magnificent waterfall spilled, almost gently, from a large rock face into a pristine lake. She was unable to describe the emotions that engulfed her. This lake, along with its surroundings, was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. She stumbled to the shore and dropped to the ground. Fish of every color swam unafraid in its depths. The water flowed slowly past her into a small river she hadn’t noticed before. She reached down and skimmed her hand across the surface making small designs with the ripples that were then carried away downstream. The sky was a deep blue she’d never seen before.

“Elizabeth?” David’s quiet voice tugged her back into reality. She looked up at him and was surprised to find tears making silent tracks down her face. “So, what do you think?” He was watching the ground and couldn’t stop fidgeting.

Elizabeth stood up and walked over to him. She wrapped her arms around him, and after a moment of hesitation he did the same. “I love it,” she whispered.

He was silent a moment. Then, so quiet she could barely make the words out, he said, “And I love you.”

A shiver ran its way up her back. She stiffened and took a step back. He met her eyes and she could see that he was, for once, completely serious. He began to lean forward, holding her prisoner with his eyes; his green, green eyes. Soon she could see nothing else but those two deep pools of emerald green. That’s when she broke the chain that bound them and fled.

She could still feel his hot breath on her lips from their almost kiss as she ran through the trees. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was supposed to marry the first born son of some rich man. Not the poor, hired help. Her thoughts were jumbled; she couldn’t think. Branches tore at her face and clothes. Even the pain couldn’t take away the green haze that covered everything.

Before she knew it she was out of the woods. She bent over and gasped for breath. She was gone from the secret lake and the promises it brought with it. Before her stretched the town of Leeds, where she had been born and raised. Its major export was wool and there was never a lack of chores to accomplish. Father would be furious with her for being gone as long as she had. She looked back at the forest for a long while and felt a lump rise in her throat. She spun on her heel and headed for home.

When it came in sight, Elizabeth felt dread curl in her stomach. She could see her mother pacing back and forth in front of the window. Elizabeth knew there would be no chance to sneak in and clean up before facing her. Elizabeth took a deep breath and walked calmly towards the house, brushing off her dress as she did so.

Her mama happened to glance out the window. A second later, the front door swung open. Every inch of her mother was etched in fury. “Elizabeth Miller! Where have you been?! Just look at the state of you!”

Her mother stepped aside as Elizabeth walked inside. The door slammed shut behind them.
“Well?” her mother demanded, her foot taping in that annoying way.

Elizabeth sat down heavily on the chair.

“You were with that Foster boy again, weren’t you?!”

She didn’t give her a chance to answer.

“Elias,” she called, “I think it’s time!”

What?

Her father walked into the room and gave her a once over. He sighed, “Yes, Mary. I think you’re right.” He looked at Elizabeth. “Sit down sweetheart.”

She gave him a strange look. “I am sitting down.”

“Oh, yes, I see that.” He seemed flustered.

“What’s going on Papa?”

He knelt down in front of her and took her hands in his. “Sweetheart, what do you think about America?”

“That stupid land across the sea for greedy old men?”

“Yes.”

“What’s there to think about it?”

Mama decided she’d had enough beating around the bush. “Elizabeth, we are sending you on the next ship to America. It leaves in two days.”

Her mouth dropped open. “But . . . but . . . Papa!”

He nodded his affirmation.

“No,” she yelled, “I won’t go!”

“Yes,” Papa said softly, “you will.”

She looked at him for a moment, aghast, before leaping from her chair and running outside.
“She’ll be back,” She heard him say as the door slammed behind her. The sad part was she knew she would be too.

She didn’t know where she was running to, only that she had to get away. As she ran down the lane she saw someone walking towards the farm, but through her blurry vision she was unable to identify who it was.

She heard the person call her name as she rushed by. It was David. He was the last person she wanted to talk to.

Elizabeth ran until she found herself in a field of flowers. She collapsed and cried some more as sobs tore through her body.

Next thing she knew, David was lifting her from the ground and wrapping his arms around her. Elizabeth didn’t care anymore. She needed comfort.

She buried herself in his embrace.

“What’s wrong, Elizabeth?” he asked softly.

“America!” she screeched. “My parents are sending me to America because they don’t want to have to deal with me any longer!”

That shut him up. She continued crying and David held her tighter. His eyes shed a few tears as well.

*******

Two days later, Elizabeth stood with her parents in front of the ship. She was dressed in her finest cloak and skirts. A crewman had already taken her bag up. She didn’t see David anywhere. They hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye. Without a word, she hugged her parents and walked onto the ship; into her nightmare.

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.

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.