tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17289746990870118432023-11-16T10:11:32.646-08:00Between One Dream And AnotherAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05395854863636576651noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1728974699087011843.post-56773517347765059082013-02-26T17:05:00.003-08:002013-02-26T17:06:58.419-08:00Think About It...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtuZWeN9UMZPYBNiqEK8tQvHshjDW6LhAr-YsRXXS2szHuPkXYJu4XAjrVPgWim8LqfEBIjRE7dUBq_5N1RGrjjzFBRpibNXPbdNuudrMkOSCmF3qsUihXmqyUzavCMrNY_bQJ6cXss50/s1600/images-3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtuZWeN9UMZPYBNiqEK8tQvHshjDW6LhAr-YsRXXS2szHuPkXYJu4XAjrVPgWim8LqfEBIjRE7dUBq_5N1RGrjjzFBRpibNXPbdNuudrMkOSCmF3qsUihXmqyUzavCMrNY_bQJ6cXss50/s1600/images-3.jpeg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px;">
“People say, 'I'm going to sleep now,' as if it were nothing. But it's really a bizarre activity. 'For the next several hours, while the sun is gone, I'm going to become unconscious, temporarily losing command over everything I know and understand. When the sun returns, I will resume my life.'</div>
<div style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px; min-height: 16px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px;">
If you didn't know what sleep was, and you had only seen it in a science fiction movie, you would think it was weird and tell all your friends about the movie you'd seen.</div>
<div style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px; min-height: 16px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px;">
They had these people, you know? And they would walk around all day and be OK? And then, once a day, usually after dark, they would lie down on these special platforms and become unconscious. They would stop functioning almost completely, except deep in their minds they would have adventures and experiences that were completely impossible in real life. As they lay there, completely vulnerable to their enemies, their only movements were to occasionally shift from one position to another; or, if one of the 'mind adventures' got too real, they would sit up and scream and be glad they weren't unconscious anymore. Then they would drink a lot of coffee.'</div>
<div style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px; min-height: 16px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px;">
So, next time you see someone sleeping, make believe you're in a science fiction movie. And whisper, 'The creature is regenerating itself.” </div>
<div style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px;">
-George Carlin, <u><i>Brain Droppings</i></u></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05395854863636576651noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1728974699087011843.post-10216480976921998032013-02-26T16:59:00.001-08:002013-02-26T17:59:31.907-08:00Guardian Angel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizqMEoYbsenKDi7D2BNfxYtk8TcvA8YJG0dgsApHO6ec5dMJibnXXmlrcN2RRV-2W-c5NfKo3deuwkt998mh3QoTSj5u7WIQnFt3T4y7PAjcQFqbMB1GoRr7Z_ZP_e64xge0Ndkia-CJA/s1600/images-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizqMEoYbsenKDi7D2BNfxYtk8TcvA8YJG0dgsApHO6ec5dMJibnXXmlrcN2RRV-2W-c5NfKo3deuwkt998mh3QoTSj5u7WIQnFt3T4y7PAjcQFqbMB1GoRr7Z_ZP_e64xge0Ndkia-CJA/s1600/images-2.jpeg" /></a></div>
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves>false</w:TrackMoves>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>
<w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>
<w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:DontAutofitConstrainedTables/>
<w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/>
</w:Compatibility>
</w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="276">
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was sitting
on the damp ground with my back to the wall. Heavy irons around my wrists and
ankles. I kept my eyes closed and let my hands do the seeing. The iron was cold
and left chills down my spine. My fingers caressing the earth I sat on, gliding
over tiny rocks. I extended my legs, my bare feet being buried in the cool
soil. I opened my eyes. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was completely in the dark except for a small stream of
light pouring out of some unknown opening in the high ceiling of my dungeon.
The light hurt my eyes so I had to squint and let them adjust to see. It was a
small circular room with high stone walls. I was the only one here. My hair
clung to my neck and fell down my shoulders. It was so filthy. In fact, my
whole body was filthy. My arms and legs were covered in mud and bruises. I
tried to rub my ankles, which were throbbing in pain, but my chains tightened
and wouldn’t allow my hand to reach. What am I doing here? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I heard a scream from somewhere. It sounded distant and
close at the same time. It sounded like….me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I began to panic. I screamed for help, louder and louder.
But nothing. I sobbed. What did I do? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I scratched the dirt with my nails then balled my hands into
fists. What the fuck did I do to get HERE? This dark dingy place. This cold
place. Do I belong here? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I let myself drift off, my eyes losing focus, I stared into
the dark. What kind of person would be in a place like this?.....a bad one.
Maybe I was bad. Was I? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What makes a person bad? Is it how they act? Or perhaps it’s
their thoughts? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I behaved like a good person. I never hurt anyone
intentionally. I was a good friend. A good person. I knew it. I just knew it.
It was something that used to be important to me…I think? Why cant I remember?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But my thoughts….. there was something in me that began to
scratch at the seams that held me together. No, my thoughts weren’t so good.
They had never been. Am I here because my mind is twisted?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My eyes came back to focus just in time to see something
dart across the room. I tried to follow it with my eyes, but it moved quickly
and silently. What was that? I was scared. My breathing quickened, as did my
heart beat. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hello? No answer. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tears began to well in my eyes, blurring my vision. Slowly
the outline of a person came into my vision. They were walking towards me. I
blinked the tears out of my eyes and felt them roll down my cheeks. I looked up
at my visitor…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Daddy?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hi, baby.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dad, where am I? What is this place?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You know where you are, Jen. <br />
<br />
I do?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You put yourself here.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What? I don’t understand. Why would I do that?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He stood over me now, looking down at me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I could do this..</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<br />
He bent down and ran his hand up my leg slowly. He reached the hem of my dirty
tattered dress and lifted it easily. His hand continuing up towards…no…..</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Daddy!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You want this don’t you?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No! What are you doing?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He smiled as he began to touch me and rub down there. This
couldn’t be happening. I screamed out, I writhed, I tried to escape, but my
chains held me. I tried to force my legs closed but he pried them open and
continued to roughly finger me. Smiling the whole time. I couldn’t take my eyes
away from him. I could feel my body responding to his touch, but I didn’t want
it to….did I? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My screaming turned to moaning and I was no longer fighting
to close my legs. I arched my back and closed my eyes. His speed quickened and
I could feel my release coming faster and faster with every flick of his
finger. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Daddy……daddy……daddy!.....</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Right before I could orgasm he began to laugh hysterically,
I opened my eyes and looked at him. He turned to ash and fell in a pile at my
feet. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I sat there in the dark with just enough light to watch the
ash floating in the air, falling lightly on my skin. I closed my legs and tried
to rub some of the ash off the area’s that my chains would permit. All it
seemed to do was make me even dirtier. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What just happened? How could I have….enjoyed that? What the
fuck was wrong with me?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Disgusted with myself I screamed out. I screamed until my
throat was raw and my voice hoarse. When I couldn’t scream anymore I hung my
head and cried. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Suddenly a noise came that interrupted me. I stopped crying
and held my breath in anticipation to hear it again. There it was! What was
that? Where was it coming from? I looked all over the room. There was no way of
telling how big the room actually was. Who knew what actually lay past that
deep darkness. The noise continued….like a clanking of metal. Maybe chains? Are
those footsteps? I couldn’t hold my breath any longer and exhaled loudly. I was
so terribly scared. Suddenly
another man stepped into my vision. Coming from the darkness, he could’ve been
the devil himself. He wore a mask over his face but his torso was bare. He was
gigantic, looming over me like death. His wide shoulders and massive arms. He
wore black pants with chains
hanging off of them. That must’ve been where the noise was coming from. He wore
thick blacksmith’s gloves, and in his left hand a whip was coiled up. He looked
down at me and I heard a deep laugh escape from behind his mask. The whip
uncoiled loosely down to the ground, leaving little whisper marks in the
dirt. In his right hand he held a
large metal hoop with three keys on it. He began to walk towards me. Those huge
leather, probably steel toed, boots making the dirt crunch underneath his
weight. He leaned over and unlocked my irons, first my wrists then my ankles.
All I wanted was to run, but my limbs suddenly couldn’t move. It was as if I
hadn’t used them in years. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He bent down and grabbed my arms and lifted me over his
shoulder. I didn’t fight him, I couldn’t. Even if I had the energy, this man
could kill me with a flick of his hand. He set me down, and I swayed back and
forth on my weak legs. He grabbed my wrists and held them above my head. Clink.
The sound of the iron’s being clasped around my wrists again. He stepped back and inspected me. I was
standing in the middle of my dungeon now. The light pouring over top me now,
riddling my body with shadows. My arms suspended above my head, tightly held by
big rusty iron cuffs. He turned
and stepped out of the light disappearing in the darkness. I heard a squeaking
noise. I suddenly started to be raised off the ground. I looked down and my
breathing once again quickened. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I came to my senses and began to scream for help. Screaming
so loud. My throat was still raw, but I was scared beyond belief. I needed to
get out. Now. The man slowly stepped into the light in front of me. He was
probably just a few feet from me. I could smell him. Sweat, leather, and
something else. I recognized it. I’d smelled it before. What was that smell?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I stopped screaming and stared into that dark mask. I was hanging there for him, the
way I knew he wanted me. Maybe 2 feet off the ground. The iron digging into my
wrists as all my weight pulled me down. My heart hammering against my ribs and
sweat falling off my forehead….I was helpless. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He began to slowly circle me. I couldn’t see him but I could
hear him walking behind me. His pace constant, slow. I’m not sure how many
times he circled me. I began to get light headed and delusional. All I could
hear was that low grumble of a laugh, and those slow steps. Was I falling in
and out of consciousness? I couldn’t feel my arms anymore and my head felt like
it weighed a million pounds. But he just kept circling me. Never speaking. Just
walking, like a lion hunting a gazelle. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Suddenly, a ripping noise. He was tearing my dress off my
body. The material fell, crumpled and dirty, at my feet. My nipples hardened, and
goose bumps flew up my entire body. I was awake now. His walking stopped, and
he stood behind me. I couldn’t see him. A loud crack echoed and I felt the whip
bite into my back. I screamed out. Christ! My head shot back and I squeezed my
eyes shut. He kept whipping. Crack…crack….crack….crack. I kept screaming.
Sobbing. Pleading. Begging. Every whip was like fire and ice down my back. I
clenched my teeth and tried to prepare myself for the next one. It didn’t
matter. The pain never dulled. My body didn’t go numb, or into shock. It just
kept rippling through my body. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Do I deserve this? I must. I know I do. My mind is like a
rotted fruit. It’s sick. And I need to be punished. Suddenly my pleading wasn’t
for him to stop, it was for more. And he was more than happy to oblige. He
began to put some of that muscle into it. I could feel something warm running down
my back. Blood. His whip cut into my skin, and I liked it. I loved it. The pain
seared through my body and I felt every molecule, every atom, scream for more.
My head was throbbing and my legs tingling. My body told me it couldn’t take
anymore, but I told it to shut the fuck up. I could take it. I had to take it.
I THIRSTED for more. I closed my eyes and tears streamed down my face.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The whipping stopped and the man pressed himself up behind
me. I could feel his sweaty chest pressed against my back. Even with me
suspended in the air his head was still by my head. He rested his chin on my
shoulder. He was breathing heavy and his breath smelled sweet. He turned his
head and inhaled deeply into my hair. His skin was rubbing my fresh wounds and
it burned and made me inhale sharply as well. What was he doing? He put his
arms around me and cupped my breasts. He rubbed and pinched each nipple. My
body writhed and I let out a moan. My body was going into sensation over load.
He ran his rough hands down the sides of my body. Moving slowly and feeling
every curve. His long arms extended down my hips and to my thighs. He reached
in front and grabbed my inner thighs, forcing my legs to pull up. He gripped me
just above the back of my knee, pulling my knee’s to my chest, completely
exposing my soaking wet vagina. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My arms still numb and the iron still ripping into my skin,
my back shredded and bloody, and now my knees up by my ribs and my body splayed
out for everyone to see….all I wanted was for this huge man to fuck me. I
wanted him to tear into me like his whip. But before I could even whisper to
him to fuck me, I saw movement in the shadows in front of me. The man was still
pressed behind me holding my legs up. I narrowed my eyes and tried to see in
the dark, but all I seen was the inky black. The squeaking noise came again and
my body began to lower. The man behind me stayed frozen and holding me. My back
sliding down his torso sending pain shooting through me. I screamed out. What
was going on?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My body continued to lower until I was just a foot above the
ground.. I looked into the darkness searching for whoever had lowered me. A
child stepped out into the light, a little girl. I hung there panting and staring at this little girl, more
confused than ever. She had short, curly hair. There was a red bow tied at the
top of her head. She had pale skin, with big eyes. Dark eyes. She looked like a
normal little girl, but there was something off about her. She wore a white
polo and a plaid skirt. She had white ruffled socks and shiny black buckled
shoes. I stared at her, suddenly very aware of how exposed I was. I tried to
lower my legs but the man held them tight. She stepped closer to me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Who are you? I asked</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Who do you think I am? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How would I know that?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She smiled sweetly, and looked down at me. Her eyes stopped
at my sex. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What are you doing here? I tried to get her eye contact back
up to my eyes, but she just kept looking.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m here because of you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yup. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t think you belong here, sweetie. This isn’t a place
for kids.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had no idea where I was, but I was pretty sure it was
exclusively for bad people. Not innocent little girls.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She laughed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What makes you think I’m innocent?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Had I said that out loud?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You’re just a little girl. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now she raised her eyes to meet mine. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Were you innocent when you were a little girl?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My mouth opened to respond, but I couldn’t find the words. I
just stared back at her. Was I innocent when I was a little girl? When did
these bad thoughts come into my mind? Does corruption come with age? Or was I
always a plague? Maybe I’m just the bruised, ugly part of the fruit. Maybe I
just came into existence this way. The tears came again. The little girl looked
back down into my opened legs. She began to walk towards me….</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Stop!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The voice came hurling through the room like a wrecking
ball. The little girl and I both jumped. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Stop this Jennifer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He came running into the center of the room. He looked so
out of place. His clothes and skin clean, his clear blue eyes darting from the
man behind me to the little girl, then finally rested upon me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Oh God, Jennifer…..oh God </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Charlie…..</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just saying his name out loud seemed to bring fresh air into
the room. I looked into his eyes. He looked back at me. Concern and love
shouting back at me. Slapping me in the face. I looked away and cried. I didn’t
want those things. Not here. This is no place for love. And why would he be
worried about me? About someone like me… </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jennifer…look at me</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn’t want to. I could still feel the big man behind me,
his grip had loosened a little but still held my knee’s high. I glanced up at
the little girl who suddenly seemed afraid and meek. Was she shaking? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Finally I looked up at him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Oh God, Charlie. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I sobbed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He stepped towards me, but the man behind me gave a warning
noise. And Charlie stopped and looked at him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jennifer, make this stop.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What do you mean? Can’t you see I’m clearly not in control
here!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jen, you are in control here. Take a good look around, baby.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I took a couple of deep breaths and tried to stop crying. I
blinked the tears out of my eyes and began to look more closely at the room.
What I had thought were stone walls actually was a plastic tarp painted to look
like stones. Hastily done, and not very convincing. Some of it was falling off
the wooden pegs it had been nailed to, allowing light to come through. My eyes
fell on the little girl. Her hair was messy and unkept. Her bow dirty and
sloppily tied. She had tear stains down her face. Her shirt untucked and dirty.
Her socks torn and shoes scuffed. I looked at her face, and realized I
recognized her. Yes, I knew this girl very well. She was me. I cried. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Let me go! I demanded. The big hands released me and my legs
fell to the floor. I stood, looking up at my suspended arms. They were tied
together by flimsy rope. I lowered my arms and easily slid my wrists out from
the restraints. I turned around to
face the big man, who in fact was not so big. We were nose to nose. I reached
up and removed his mask. I gasped. Was this a trick? Underneath the mask there
was no man. It was a woman. Her hair was pulled back into a tight pony tail.
She had olive skin, and big brown eyes. Her full lips were painted red and she
smelled like sweet perfume. My perfume. It was me. I backed away, gaping.
Looking from the little girl to the woman in the leather pants with the whip.
What the hell was going on here? I felt like I was going to faint. Charlie
grabbed me from behind and held me. My legs buckled under me and we fell to the
ground. He wrapped his arms around me and I buried my face in his shoulder. I
sobbed. I cried so hard. He rocked me back and forth and rubbed my hair. I felt
his hand go to my back and he caressed my scars. I didn’t understand. What was
this place? I had done this all? How? Why? God, why?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jennifer, we’re going to get you the help you need okay?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Charlie, I don’t understand…what the fuck is going on here?
Where are we?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jen, we’re in your dream….</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My dream?!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yes baby.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How are you here?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I always come and pull you out of these dreams, Jen.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Always..?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yes, baby. Always.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But how? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because you’re my soul mate, Jen. I love you more than
anything. And I will always be here.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But how, Charlie? How?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We have a connection, Jen. When you need me most I know it.
I can’t explain how I am able to be in your mind like this. But I’ve saved you
from yourself many times.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
From myself…..?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Charlie looked around the demented fake dungeon room. He
sighed heavily and looked back down at me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yes, Jen. You created all this. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But..why?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That I can’t answer. You punish yourself almost every night.
You’ve put yourself through some sick things, Jen. I thought you were getting
better. But this…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He looked around again, then met my eyes. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I love you. You know that. You do not deserve this, do you
hear me? You don’t. You are not a bad person. I know you better than anyone on
this planet. I love you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He pulled me into him and held me tightly. I couldn’t pull
away, but I wanted to. His big arms wrapped around me, forcing me to be
surrounded with this man’s love. I wanted to shove him off of me, I wanted to
curl up and dissolve into this atmosphere. This ugly, dark room. I didn’t feel
deserving of the warmth I was feeling. But instead I began to dissolve into
him. I could feel my icy heart melting. I felt tingly and warm. I cried. But
they were soft tears. Slowly falling down my face and onto his chest. He never
let me go…….He will never let me go……..</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
………………………..</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I opened my eyes to the blaring alarm going off on my night
stand. Ugh. I reach over and switch it off. The sun is shining through the pale
white curtains, painting my walls gold. The bed is so warm and my fluffy white
comforter smells clean as I take a deep breath in. I reach up to stretch and
feel his heavy arm wrapped around my waist. I turn over and look into his face.
He looks so much like a child when he sleeps. I blow onto his eyelashes softly.
His eyes open and those clear blue eyes look into me. . He smiles and pulls me
closer. I giggle and pretend to try and resist, but I love being in his arms.
It’s where I feel most at home. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How did you sleep babe?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Pretty good, you?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think I slept pretty well. But I feel like I had a bizarre
dream! I just can’t remember it. That is so frustrating! I wish I could just
remember one dream instead of always feeling like I’m missing out on something
interesting.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well, how about I make breakfast and we’ll try and see if we
can jog your memory? Charlie kisses my cheek and throws the comforter off of
us. I jump up and follow him down the hall. I suddenly had an overwhelming
feeling of love and devotion to this man. It was like a wave crashing on my
heart. He turned and looked at me as I stood staring blankly in the hallway. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You okay?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I looked up and met those crystal blue eyes. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yes, I think I am. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I smile and run to him and he opens his arms as I fall into
him. I bury my face into his neck and breathe in and close my eyes. I get the
feeling of déjà vu. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Charlie, what would I do without you?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You’ll never have to find out, baby. I promise you that.</div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05395854863636576651noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1728974699087011843.post-5403317500010769332013-02-13T16:38:00.002-08:002013-02-13T16:38:17.604-08:00Think About It...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8mwN4xuB4e0a7JQk04vsWqYfGqFTOoMDd5EkCiE9G1EsxfC1deMLWlK5cZbN3u9yLFE8KKVjpeze5PFNBfRqkxrtQ2pqFwr51gN69qrX-Uyrseu9vAY8RXXlL5yupxoQQrCU6u7FyTaE/s1600/Unknown.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8mwN4xuB4e0a7JQk04vsWqYfGqFTOoMDd5EkCiE9G1EsxfC1deMLWlK5cZbN3u9yLFE8KKVjpeze5PFNBfRqkxrtQ2pqFwr51gN69qrX-Uyrseu9vAY8RXXlL5yupxoQQrCU6u7FyTaE/s1600/Unknown.jpeg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 14px;">
All human beings are also dream beings. Dreaming ties all mankind together. - Jack Kerouac</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05395854863636576651noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1728974699087011843.post-415478309175423912013-02-12T17:29:00.000-08:002013-02-12T18:35:51.012-08:00From The Fire She Rises<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNG_eVhSpNgvR3bAfizuhtJMkRxw2hPT6HwgVqcxwJ1ShhduwEsU4jIL2LANx1Ez6AOUFTJmC_VBaGi8g11gOvS2sSZhqtX0-tyIOiL7Ji65bddtysr9WMd9DE-1lfyh9tsR-H3mGwl6k/s1600/bebb6066de4caf3e6639b1a183fa3865.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNG_eVhSpNgvR3bAfizuhtJMkRxw2hPT6HwgVqcxwJ1ShhduwEsU4jIL2LANx1Ez6AOUFTJmC_VBaGi8g11gOvS2sSZhqtX0-tyIOiL7Ji65bddtysr9WMd9DE-1lfyh9tsR-H3mGwl6k/s320/bebb6066de4caf3e6639b1a183fa3865.jpg" width="185" /></a></div>
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves>false</w:TrackMoves>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>
<w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>
<w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:DontAutofitConstrainedTables/>
<w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/>
</w:Compatibility>
</w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="276">
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
She picked up an apple and watched it rot and decay in her
hands. She sighed and tossed it on the ground. She was so bored. She walked
across her chamber to the vanity.
She sat down and looked into the mirror. Nothing new there. She was
stunning. Perfect. Easily the most beautiful woman there ever was. She was as
beautiful in Death as she was in Life. She was as bored as she had been when
she was alive too.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“How long have I been here?” she thought to herself. “Too
long,” she laughed. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She didn’t remember too much about her Life anymore. She
couldn’t even remember how she died. She just knew that she hadn’t been a very
good person in Life, because otherwise she wouldn’t be here.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She looked around her chamber. The walls were high and
plain. No paintings or decorations on them. There was the vanity she was
sitting at, a dresser (which had nothing in it), and a bed. She glanced side
ways at the dresser. One of His biggest jokes was to give her things to remind
her of what she didn’t have. She wasn’t allowed to wear clothes, she was
completely naked. She didn’t even remember what it was like not to be naked. He
also always made sure there was a pitcher of water, and a bowl of fresh fruit.
Not that it mattered. She had been hungry and thirsty for hundreds of years
now. Anytime she picked up the fruit it would rot in her hand, and the pitcher
always seemed to be empty when she would attempt to pour a glass. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All of those things used to bother her. She would cry and
plea to God to take her out of this place. She would repent and pray and pledge
herself to God. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She laughed again. “What a fool I was,” she said out loud. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She got up from the vanity and walked to the one window in
her room. She looked down below. She was in a tower, how high she never could
figure out. Her view was lovely. Mountains, a sky, trees and flowers. She could just see a peek of water
from the other side of the mountains. A lake perhaps. The sun shined, and the
birds chirped and everything seemed so picturesque and perfect out there.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But she knew better. Probably fake. Another one of His
clever tricks to make me long for something I can’t have. He had so many of
those tricks. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In Life, she remembered using her looks and men’s lust to
get what she desired. She had slept with plenty of men, but she never enjoyed
sex. Ever. She loathed it really. Men made her skin crawl. She thought them all
pathetic, and weak. To be able to be manipulated so easily baffled her. Women
were much stronger in her mind. But men were necessary. For whatever reason Eve
let Adam take the reigns of the World. So women always came second. And could
do nothing with a man. She did only what was necessary to survive. She didn’t
feel bad about it, though she knew she probably should. She’d figured that was
why she was here. No remorse for the broken hearts, and promises. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As soon as she arrived He put her in this room, where she
sat for so long without any contact from anyone or anything. She just cried and
hated herself and pleaded with someone anyone to help her. She cried over the
dying fruit and the dry pitcher. She cried over her naked body, and the
beautiful view. She cried because of the stale air in her chamber, and the
loneliness. She thought she would die, again, from her misery. But that’s just
wishful thinking she discovered. She would never die, or escape her prison.
This was Hell, after all.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She stayed in that room for so long by herself, until she
finally stopped crying. She became numb. She spent her day’s staring at the
walls, and her sleepless nights she stared out the window. There was no sleep
here either. When she gave in and became numb, that’s when He started coming.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The first time was in the middle of the day. The sun was
shining through her window, and she sat on the chair of her vanity blankly
staring at the bowl of delicious looking fruit. Suddenly she got very hot, and
her whole body started to sweat profusely. Her hair clung to the back of her
neck, and she panted trying to get air. Her mouth dry. She stood up and looked
around her room. Nothing had changed. The window was still open, her bed still
there, the fruit, the water, the blank walls, the sealed door with no knob
seemed to remain sealed. She was confused. She went to the window and tried to
get a gulp of fresh air. But nothing. She stopped and realized she couldn’t
hear the birds chirping anymore. It was as if someone had shut off all the
noise in the world. She wrapped a slender hand around her throat, still gasping
for fresh air. She turned around
and faced her bed. Maybe she should lie down? She started for the bed,
when suddenly something grabbed her by the back of her hair, she went to let
out a scream but something unseen covered her mouth and quieted her. She could
feel something grab her around her waist and lift her in the air. Her eyes
darted to the vanity, in the mirror she seen herself floating in the air. Her
naked body suspended in the air, but that was all she seen in the mirror.
Suddenly she was flung onto the bed, she landed on her stomach and the air was
knocked out of her. No time for air, she tried to scramble to get away from
whatever was in the room with her.
But it grabbed her ankles and pulled her back. She grabbed the blanket, but it
just followed her as she was pulled. She tried to flip over onto her back to
face the invisible attacker, but it shoved her face down on the bed. She
couldn’t lift her head and she grunted and whined. She was so afraid. She could
feel the thing touching her body. Caressing her sweat soaked hair, moving down
to her damp neck, and tracing it’s way down her spine all the way to her
buttocks. It gripped one cheek and grasped it hard. She inhaled sharply. It grabbed her hips and forced her to
her knees. She was now kneeling on all fours on her bed, she could still see
her reflection in the mirror. She looked pathetic, and helpless. She knew this
scene all too well. Though she may not know who was committing the act, she
knew this was rape. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She began to whimper and cry, not able to tear her eyes from
her reflection. She watched as her body began to jerk as it entered her. She
let out a cry of pain. It did not hesitate. It continued to pound into her
body. It dug into her sides as it
gripped her tightly, continuing to thrust into her. Harder and harder. Faster.
In the mirror she looked as if she were having seizures, shaking so violently
back and forth. She cried out. Loud and angry. But it didn’t care. Suddenly
with one final thrust, it stopped. She didn’t move from her position she opened
her eyes and looked around her room. The air was thinner now. Breathable again.
She let out a breath, then breathed in, and before she knew it she was panting.
She couldn’t find her breath. She was having a panic attack. She fell onto her
side and hugged her knees to her chest. She sobbed and her body shook. Oh her
body hurt so bad. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Later when she gained composure, and calmed down. She went
to her vanity and lifted her leg onto the surface. She inspected her vagina. It
was raw, and bloody. She touched it tenderly, and winced in pain. She laid in
her bed for days on end, waiting until the bruises went away, and she could
walk again without the pain. She just sat there and thought and replayed the
whole thing in her mind. What had that been? Will it happen again?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Some time went by, and she healed. For a while she would sit
in suspense, just waiting for it to come back. She was very conscious of the
air. She wanted to be ready when it got hot and unbearable again. She knew that
would be the sign it was happening. But it never did.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She just went on with her normal routine. Walls, window.
Walls, window. Walls, window. She almost completely forgot about the whole
thing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then one night as she lay there looking out the window, the
air got thick, and hot. She snapped out of her daze and sat up in bed. She
pressed her back to the wall and pulled her knee’s to her chest. As her hair
began to get wet, and her forehead had beads of sweat, she had a thought. She
was pretty sure it would come and do the same thing again. She would probably
have less injury if she fought less. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She was petrified, but she convinced herself to lie flat on
the bed with her arms and legs spread.
She lay there panting, partially out of fear, and partly because of that
damned air. She had another thought, and quickly brought her hand to her mouth and
spit in it and then rubbed it down there. Just as she did that she felt the
weight on her. It bowed the bed, and hovered over her. She could feel the hot
breath, and feel it leaning against her pelvis. It crushed her. She didn’t
move. She lay there panting and staring up at the ceiling. She wasn’t going to
give it the satisfaction of her crying this time. It waited for a long time,
and she started to think maybe nothing was going to happen. Then suddenly she
felt it penetrate her. She cried, but she clenched her teeth and prepared
herself for the next thrust. And it came just as hard as the first. It kept on
and she turned her head to the side and suffered through it. Every last thrust,
every hot breath on her face. Even though she had tried to lubricate, she could
feel it starting to become raw again. She looked up at where the invisible
rapist would be and wondered…..</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She slowly moved her hand down and began to touch herself as
it continued to pummel into her. She closed her eyes and tried to let herself
feel the pleasure. She just kept rubbing and rubbing and finally there it was.
Pleasure. She hadn’t felt it in so long. She let out a small moan, and suddenly
the thrusting stopped. Her eyes snapped open just in time to feel the hard slap
on her cheek. She cried out. The pain shot through her. Her hand flew up to
hold her throbbing jaw. A tight grip wrapped around her neck and lifted her up
against the wall. She tried to grab the invisible fist holding her, but it was
too strong. She opened her mouth but could not get any air. It pushed itself inside of her again,
and fucked her hard against the wall. She let her eyes roll up and stared at
the ceiling. She couldn’t breathe, surely she would suffocate. But she never
did. Her lungs ached and screamed for air, but no release came. Neither of life
or death. She just stayed in that terrible state for what seemed like forever
as it pounded into her. It hurt so bad. It stretched her out, and ripped her
insides. But it was relentless. It flipped her around so her face was squeezed
against the wall. Finally she took a breath, but it wasn’t over yet. It had her
by a fist full of hair and it kept her head tight against the wall. The wall
scratched her face every time her body jolted up then back down as it continued
to fuck her from behind. She cried every time it did. Then suddenly, it
stopped.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Her body crumpled onto the bed, and the air became thin
again. She cried and coughed and cried some more. She grabbed her throat and
tried to massage it. It ached, but not as much as her vagina. She looked down
and seen the drops of blood falling onto her mattress. She cried all night.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After that night it came every night. She stopped fighting,
but it never stopped hurting. It got more and more violent and greedy. Her body
was just a pleasure tool. There was no human there, no emotion or feeling. She
was merely an object. She realized this was happening because she hated sex so
much. She knew this was her punishment for using it as a tool in Life. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Years went on and she never got used to it. There was no
ability to go numb to this. Every time was like the first time. Painful,
terrifying, humiliating, and violent. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She layed back on her bed and tucked her hands behind her
head. She smiled to herself, thinking back to those times used to be so
depressing. Now she laughed. She had won. She thought of all His other whores
who had gone through the same thing. Who were still going through it. They were
weak. She didn’t pity them at all. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Women will always be the most powerful. Men will always be
victim to their carnal lust. And as long as women remember that, we have them
by the balls,” she thought. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She thought back to the moment when she realized that. It
was another night of rape for her, she was on her knee’s on the floor. The
invisible attacker had her by a grip of hair on the back of her head and was
fucking her mouth. She was gagging and crying and couldn’t breathe. Suddenly, a
lightning bolt cracked in her mind. An epiphany. In Life she had used it as a
tool, why couldn’t she in Death? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She looked up at her invisible lover, and started to move
her own head. She began to push it deeper into her mouth, and started moaning
and licking and sucking. Thrusting and thrusting the big, unseen dick in her
mouth. Her neck ached and her jaw felt like it would break, but she kept going.
She looked up with a seductive stare at her attacker. And she felt the grip
loosen slightly on the back of her head. She had caught it by surprise! She
didn’t stop. She kept going and going. Moaning. Sucking. Licking. Moaning.
Sucking. Licking.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Finally it pushed her back hard, and she slid across the
floor and her back hit the door. She looked up and waited for something, but it
never happened. The air thinned, and her body began to cool down. She reached up
and rubbed her jaw and began to laugh hysterically. She won! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After that night she kept up the act. She acted like she
loved it, she NEEDED it even. And it seemed to like it right back. Eventually
she learned that it was Him who was visiting her. And He came every night. She
eventually began to look at it like a challenge. Her goal was to shock, and
surprise Him. She began to try new things. Daring things. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She even began to enjoy it herself. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hell isn’t so bad,” she said to herself. Suddenly, the air
got thick and hot. She smiled sweetly, as she felt her body moisten and become
excited. “Hello, dear….”</div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05395854863636576651noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1728974699087011843.post-60507161253266541312013-02-12T13:40:00.001-08:002013-02-12T13:53:08.230-08:00Think About It...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpO9wXiIckqOgsh7FrVxJoGREWJRekEPzOZnbSROLFnmOqPh1pAg2mqnOY_KD9nRkjyOuvqUMAq0ChVsrvmzKR1aKAlwTn1XVY7KmOu89YiydFx7y4zBDX18xPB2AeoGxgGJ_iTfVnPiI/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpO9wXiIckqOgsh7FrVxJoGREWJRekEPzOZnbSROLFnmOqPh1pAg2mqnOY_KD9nRkjyOuvqUMAq0ChVsrvmzKR1aKAlwTn1XVY7KmOu89YiydFx7y4zBDX18xPB2AeoGxgGJ_iTfVnPiI/s1600/images.jpeg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px;">
<span style="color: white;">“Dreaming permits each and every one of us to be quietly and safely insane every night.” -Charles Fisher</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05395854863636576651noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1728974699087011843.post-36634996840852775162013-02-12T13:23:00.001-08:002013-02-12T13:23:31.370-08:00Magical: Part 1
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves>false</w:TrackMoves>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>
<w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>
<w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:DontAutofitConstrainedTables/>
<w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/>
</w:Compatibility>
</w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="276">
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix4P91DeoR85PmiMYDmzqZaZ87XU30phRPC1zZEx7tpsl7-Y29dTW896W4i6z4L2GAS4CVbIUlZvgkTKkW-OH4gMm13nj-TxVPxcyB8kGx9WuP5YEoIKbr2NwNDyRbROssVPAYazcXAjQ/s1600/images-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix4P91DeoR85PmiMYDmzqZaZ87XU30phRPC1zZEx7tpsl7-Y29dTW896W4i6z4L2GAS4CVbIUlZvgkTKkW-OH4gMm13nj-TxVPxcyB8kGx9WuP5YEoIKbr2NwNDyRbROssVPAYazcXAjQ/s1600/images-1.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His eyes shot
open. The alarm clock was screaming in his face. Groggily he swings his hand
out and slams it down on the SNOOZE button. He rolls over onto his back and
stares at the ceiling. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Day 370…he thinks to himself. I love you, Samantha.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He gets out of bed, takes a shower, starts the coffee pot,
gets dressed, does his hair, pours a cup of coffee and fills up his thermos,
brushes his teeth and he’s out the door. Same routine every day for the past
370 days. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Goes to work, another grueling 13 hour day. He originally
got the job because of how much money he made doing it, now he could care less.
His bank accounts just kept accumulating money. He didn’t spend money on
anything other than bills and necessities. Money just no longer interested him
like it once had. In fact, none of his old interests seemed that important
anymore. He only stayed at the job now for the sake of routine. It kept him
going, his routines. <br />
<br />
After work, he pulled up to his apartment and parked. He got out, locked the
car doors, and pulling on his jacket he headed for the park. It was late, and
he’d heard on the news of the recent crimes being committed at the park.
Probably just a bunch of punk kids, but they still warned people to stay out of
the park after dark just in case. He didn’t care. For 370 day’s this is what he
did at the end of every day. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He kept on the path for some ways, counting the cracks in
the side walk as he stepped over them. He didn’t see or hear anyone in the
park. He never really did though. The late night runner, sometimes a kid
walking listening to music, but the worst is when he’d pass the couples. They
always seemed so happy, holding hands, bodies close, smiling and laughing. He
always just kept his eyes to the ground and hurried past them. It was like a
knife in the gut for him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He let himself drift into a memory of her for a moment. They
were walking on this same path, it was Fall. It was a late after noon, the
leaves were just changing colors. He remembers it being really beautiful. It
was their day off together, and normally he would spend most of the day glued
to the television, but she had nagged him to go for a walk with her that day.
He grumpily agreed, but secretly he’d really enjoyed being outside with her. He
remembers she had thrown on a pair of jeans and boots, and her winter coat was
buttoned all the way up. Her hair naturally fell in curls down her back, and
her white scarf contrasted beautifully against her dark hair. She forced her
arm around him back, making him put his up and over her shoulders. She giggled.
God, he can still hear that giggle. She looked up at him and smiled. Her eyes
dancing in the sun. He looked down at her and smiled back, laughing. No matter how hard he tried, he could never
really be mad her. They walked all day. Sometimes not talking, other times they
stopped and sat at a bench having serious talks, and then the rest of the time
they just playfully picked on each other. Giggling and bickering. It was one of
his favorite memories with her. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Stop, he said to himself. He had to keep his mind in check.
It so easily betrayed him when it came to her. For the first 124 days all he
could do was think about her. He didn’t function. He barely wanted to live. She
was his obsession. His family worried about him, friend’s checked on him, work
gave him time to get back on his feet. But nothing mattered. Just her. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He cut off the sidewalk and stepped onto the grass. The wind
was against him, and bit at his face. He pulled his coat around him a little
tighter. He was heading to their
spot. He’d never found somebody else here, he wasn’t even sure anyone else knew
about it. Which suited him just fine. It was theirs. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You had to pass some bushes, and once you stepped into the
tree line, no one could even see you. It was still farther in, and he had to
watch his footing. There weren’t any street lights here. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Finally he reached their spot. It wasn’t anything special.
When the tree’s started thinning out, the ground sloped up into this hill.
There was a steep drop on the other side, but if you lay on the hill on a clear
night, you would never be able to tell you were in a city. They had found it by
accident one night, and had only ever been here a few times since. But they
called it their spot. And it’s where they went to be completely alone with each
other.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This was the last place he’d seen her…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He stepped onto the hill and walked to the top. He sat down
and pulled his knee’s closer to his chest. He lay his arms out over top his
knees and just sat there. Every night he did this. For 370 days, he came here
waiting. For what, he wasn’t sure. But there had to be a clue. A sign. Where
had she gone? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He looked up at the sky. Over cast. The only thing he could
see was the faded light of the moon hiding behind a cloud. The pieces of sky he
could see were deep purple. If she were here she would say it felt mysterious
and magical tonight. He smirked, she always said the most ridiculous things.
She was the perfect combination of a woman and a child. He’d never noticed that
until after.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In fact, there were a lot of things he never noticed. He
never noticed that she tucked and hid little notes all over the apartment for
him to find. He never noticed that she always cleaned up after him. He never
realized how she was the one that kept him alive. Every little thing she did
had been a reason for him to breathe. And he didn’t know it until she were
gone. Now he kept breathing in hopes she would come back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There was a part of him that thought ….. no. He wouldn’t
even think it. She was alive still. She had to be. She had to be.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She had been so sad, and no one really knew why. She’d tried
talking about to him, and he pretended to understand. Say all the right things.
Be supportive. But in reality he had no idea. He didn’t get what she was
talking about. He always just thought she was so complicated, and emotional.
She would get over it. She always got over it. She was constantly changing.
Which annoyed him beyond belief. Now he looked back and was in awe of her. She
was so magical. He’d put a lot of thought into that word. Magical. He tried to
best describe her, and he couldn’t think of a better word. One minute she was this sophisticated,
sarcastic person. Laughing and arguing, or talking about something going on in
the world. Oh the conversations we had. He laughed out loud just thinking of
some of the debates. Then the next minute, she was wearing sweats and one of
his T-shirts, playing video games or watching Animal House with him. Laughing
and joking and eating junk food. There were day’s when she would stand in front
of the window, staring into space. She looked so sad. He would always try and
come up behind her and kiss her and wrap his arms around her. But that seemed
to just irritate her, and she’d shut herself in the room. Then the next day she
would be giggling and playing on the floor with the dog, like nothing had even
happened. She was the most diverse human he’d ever known. He’d considered
Bi-polar. But probably not. There always seemed to be a reason for her moods.
And when she got in the right mood, she would lock eyes with him from across
the room. And he could swear he could feel her hot breath against his lips. She
would walk to him, never breaking their gaze, and just stand there and look
into both of his eyes. He felt so weightless when she looked at him like that.
Then she would lean in and slowly close her eyes and kiss him. And it was like
dreaming. He would sometimes even get light headed from how stimulating it was
for him when she did that. Of course, he never told her that. Though he wished
he had now. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He never found out why she had been so sad all the time back
then. He just started to ignore it when it didn’t go away. He just figured it
would pass like it always did. But it didn’t. It went on for a few months. But
he didn’t know how to help her, so he just kept the routine of their lives
going. He thought it would help. For her to see life would keep going. She quit
her job and stayed home. She lost weight. Stayed up all night. Slept all day.
They started fighting a lot, but there never seemed to be an answer to their
problems. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He just didn’t know what the problem was. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Why didn’t you ask her? He scolded himself. Why didn’t you
get her help? Why didn’t you just pick her up and kiss her and tell her you
love her? Why didn’t you do more….</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
These trips to their spot had turned into guilt trips. He
beat himself up every night. The last day he seen her, she had written him a
letter and stuck it in his brief case. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’m sorry. I love you. Meet me at Our spot tonight at 7”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was the first time in months she had reached out to him
at all. He remembered being so excited, then being angry. She knew he worked
late that night. It was always about her, and her needs. What about him? He was
doing the best he could, and she had to be difficult and make him go to the
park at night just because she said so. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You were such an idiot! He thought. What was the big fucking
deal? She needed you. You could’ve made it happen. Fuck everything else.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But that night work had told him he couldn’t leave early. So
he didn’t. He tried calling but she never answered. When he got to the
apartment that night, there were no lights on. He went and checked and she was
not there. She wouldn’t still be at the park at this hour? He tried calling her
a few more times, and after she didn’t answer again, he put his jacket on and
headed for the park.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He remembered being so angry as he walked to their spot that
night. He was ready to yell at her as soon as he saw her. She was foolish for
still being here. So dramatic for not answering her phone. What was she
thinking?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But as he walked into the clearing of their Spot, he forgot
how angry he was. There she was standing at the top of the hill facing the
edge. She was looking up at the moon. The sky was so clear and brilliant that
night. The moon was full and seemed so close. It flooded their spot with light,
and everything was so clear. Her skin glowed with the moon’s softness. Her hair
flowing down her back and blowing in the breeze. She was wearing her purple
dress that he loved. It fluttered softly around her ankles. He was speechless.
His heart stopped. He had known right away that this was a moment he would
never forget. She turned and looked at him. She didn’t seem surprised that he
was standing there. She didn’t seem angry that he was so late. The only emotion
she was showing was sadness. A sadness he had never known before. Tears rolled
down her cheeks and fell of her chin. He was frozen, couldn’t move. But he
would give anything to go back and run to her at that moment. Grab her and just
hold her. Let her cry if she needed to, or say what she needed to say.
Anything. Anything at all. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He hung his head and cried. Every night he cried. He cried
hard. He sat on the hill, in their spot, and he looked at the sky and he cried.
He wondered what the last thing she thought was? What had she thought of when
she sat in their spot alone for so long before he showed up? Would it have
played out differently had he shown up on time? If only he could’ve been in her
mind. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That look in her eyes…. It haunted him. It was so deep, and
desperate. When she turned and looked at him that night, it was a cry for help.
He knew that now. He knew that then, too. But he didn’t do anything. He didn’t
know how long she had looked at him, before she turned her body to face his
direction. For a moment he remembered thinking she was going to start walking
towards him. Until she lifted her arms out from her sides, straight out into
the air. As if she were going to take off flying. She kept eye contact with
him, and the tears kept rolling down her lovely face. Her mouth partially open,
and he heard her whimper. As soon as he’d heard her make that noise, that awful
noise, he snapped out of it. He ran to her. But it was too late. She let
herself fall backwards. He remembered the way her dress wrapped around her
body, and her hair around her face as her body started to fall down the edge.
He swears she kept eye contact with him until she fell out of view. He ran to
the edge as fast as he could, if he could just get there in time to grab her.
His heart was pounding in his chest, he couldn’t feel anything. This couldn’t
be happening….</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He looked up at that moon, as the tears streamed down his
face. He wished he could just see it, instead of the glow behind the clouds. It
was just a reminder that it was there, just not in sight. He looked towards the
edge of the hill. He had stared at so many times. For so many hours. He’d
fallen asleep here countless times. And never any answers. He got up and walked
towards the edge and looked down.
It was a steep drop. Rocks lay at the bottom, jagged and ugly. He always
forced himself to look down. As if one day he’ll see her body. As if one day, he’ll finally know what
really happened that night…..</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His heart pounded in his ears as he ran towards the edge,
maybe she’ll be there just within reach. If he just hurried, ran faster…. But
he came and he halted abruptly, sliding towards the edge. Stopping himself just
in time, he looked down. Out of breath, heart still pounding he looked down.
Eyes desperately scanning the rocks at the bottom, but nothing. No body. No
beautiful dark hair, no purple dress…she was gone. He dropped to his knees,
hands gripping the edge of the drop, he kept looking, and panting. She had to
be there. He just watched her fall over the edge. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“SAMANTHA!” he screamed into the night. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The moon illuminated the valley below. Still no trace of
her. He got up and whipped around, searching the clearing, the tree’s. Had she
somehow managed to get back up. He ran around looking behind tree’s, grabbing
bushes and clumsily parting them, searching every little space. She had to be
here. Where was she? How?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“SAMANTHA!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“SAMANTHA!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He dropped to the ground and sobbed. What the fuck had just
happened? Was he losing his mind? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No, he’d thought to himself, no. I am a logical man. I know
what I just saw. But where was she now? Help. I need help.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He reached into his jacket and hastily pulled out his phone,
he dialed 911.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
After that it had been nothing but reports, and pats on the shoulder, flash
lights and search parties. Blankets and coffee. Phone call’s from family and
friends. Dealing with her family had been especially delightful. He had always
wondered how a person like her had come from a family like that. They were self
absorbed, manipulative, and childish. They constantly pulled and ripped at her.
Tearing her down, building her up, playing on her sweet heart. He hated them.
He never told her that, because no matter they did she always remained loyal
and loving to them. They were just so utterly different, another piece of her
that could never be explained.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of course they blamed him for the whole thing. He even heard
rumors that they were trying to say he killed her. He was so numb and empty at
the time that he didn’t even care. Now as he stood at the edge and looked down
into the valley that had swallowed her, he thought to himself…did he kill her? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He swallowed down a sob, but the tears kept coming. Time
heals all, right? When would time heal this? Heal her? Find her? Find
something? That’s what ate at him the most. Where had she gone? Where was her
body? He couldn’t even really begin to focus on the thought of her being dead
because there was no evidence that she was. Even when she was gone she baffled
him. He laughed. He knew she would be pleased. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He turned around and looked around the clearing. A part of
him always expected to see her peering from behind one of the trees, in that
purple dress and her long hair falling over her shoulders, a big smile on her face.
“I got you good!” she would say. And he would run to her and pick her up and
wrap her in his arms and poke her sides and tickle her until her fits of
laughter were too much and she crumpled to the ground. “Don’t you ever do that
again you psycho,” he would tease as he kept tickling her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You’re torturing yourself, he told himself. Stop it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One final look over the edge, then he stuffed his hands in
his pockets, gave out a long sigh and turned to take the lonely walk back home.
He stepped off the hill and onto the dry grass. He reached the trees and a
bitter, cold wind hit him in the face suddenly. He shuddered. Had it been windy
this whole time? He had actually thought it kind of warm when he was on the
hill. The wind picked up speed and he leaned forward against it. He was among
the trees now, but they offered no shelter from the wind. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Wait…..”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He stopped dead in his tracks. Was he imagining that? He
waited. The wind was howling in his ears, and the cold was creeping into his
bones, he desperately wanted to get out of this weather. But he waited. Because
it almost sounded like someone said..</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Wait…..”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There it was again! He hadn’t imagined it. He looked around
him, it was difficult to see through the tree’s, especially with this wind
blowing into his face. His eyes were watering now, but he kept looking. He
turned around and faced the clearing. Was there somebody in there? Surely, he
would’ve noticed them before.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Come back.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was a faint voice, or at least it sounded that way in
combination with the wind. But there was something eerily familiar about it.
Then it struck him. He knew that voice. He’d heard it a thousand times before.
He’d heard that voice yell, and cry, and laugh, and sing. He knew that voice.
It was her. She was there. His face fell. Damn this wind. It didn’t matter. He
wasn’t cold at all anymore. He ran back to the clearing, the wind roaring at
his back, pushing him there the whole way. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s her, it’s her, it’s her, my God it’s her…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His head was pounding, and his heart beat against his ribs.
The branches of the trees whipped at his body and he stumbled on a rock but
found his footing and kept on. He broke through into the clearing and stopped
dead.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His eyes, was this real? She stood at the top of the hill,
her dark hair even longer than he had last seen it, swaying gently in the wind.
Her skin seemed to glow, her eyes bright and beautiful. She was wearing a soft
green gown and it fell at her bare feet. The expression on her face wasn’t
recognizable. Relief? Sadness? She looked the same, and yet so different. He
couldn’t put his finger on it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His leg’s gave out beneath him and he fell to his knee’s.
His hand’s shaking.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It’s you….”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes it is,” her voice washed over him . He closed his eyes
and breathed it in. Her scent surrounded him and embraced his body. Sweet and
deep. She smelled so good. He opened his eyes, half expecting it to have been a
delusion. But there she stood still. Statuesque and beautiful. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He hadn’t noticed that she wasn’t alone. There standing
beside her was a child. A fistful of her skirt in one hand, the other hand in
his little mouth. He couldn’t have been older than two. His dark hair shaggy
and sweeping the tops of his eyes. Those eyes…. They were crystal blue. The boy
was peering right into his soul it seemed. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She followed his gaze to the boy. The boy looked up at her
and she smiled sweetly down to him, petting his hair. She bent down and kissed
the boy’s cheek. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Do you know who that is?” she asked pointing to the man
kneeling on the grass.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The boy shook his head no. She smiled again. She leaned in
and whispered something into the boy’s ear. His face didn’t change, giving no
hints as to what was she told him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He remained kneeling on the grass, but he had regained
feeling in his body. His mind was still nowhere to be found, however. He was as
confused as ever. <br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Where had she been? Was this real? Had he finally lost his
mind? Who was the boy? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She stood back up and grabbed the boy’s hand. She began to
walk towards him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is real, he thought. This is definitely real.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She stopped in front of him and kneeled down. They were face
to face now. For the first time in 370 days he looked back into her beautiful
face, and seen her looking into his. He could count the eyelashes framing those
deep hazel eyes. He could reach out and touch her full beautiful lips. He could
caress her soft hair, and wrap his arms around her body. He could feel her heat
on him. Her scent was even stronger now. It smelled like…summer. Flowers, and
rain, and lemonade and camp fires. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That didn’t make any sense, he laughed out loud. And she
smiled back at him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What?” she asked him, her eyes searching his. She looked
concerned, but the smile on her face was warm.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I…I just can’t believe…It’s you…” he laughed again, and he
couldn’t help but reach out and touch her hair and he let his hand linger on
the side of her face. She closed her eyes and leaned into it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes, it is me,” she whispered. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“And me!” the little boy chimed in. Her eyes opened, as if
she’d forgotten where she was for a moment. She turned to the boy and pulled
him closer to her and looked up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“This is Max.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He looked from her hazel eyes, to the boy’s piercing blue
eyes. Now that the boy was closer, he got a better look at him. The dark hair
was wavy and thick, and made his eyes that much more shocking. His thick lashes
framing his eyes. His skin the same beautiful color as hers. He was beautiful. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It hit him like a ton of bricks…..</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Max……” he repeated. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He remembered a time when they had thought she might be
pregnant. They were so excited. After work they would come home and cuddle and
talk about the plan’s they had for the baby. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well, if it’s a girl I want her name to be Celeste,” she
said matter-of-factly, lying in his lap on the couch.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No, I don’t like it,” he said, smirking.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What? That’s a beautiful name!” she looked up at him
giggling.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well, it doesn’t really matter. Because his name is going
to be Max,” he looked down at her with a big sheepish grin.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh, you’re so sure it’s a boy?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yup.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They laughed and teased each other more that night. A few
weeks later she had a miscarriage, and they never talked about it again. It was
hard for both of them. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Max..” he repeated</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She looked at him, he knew she could see the pieces fitting
together in his mind.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“He’s your son…”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
…………………………………..TO BE CONTINUED</div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05395854863636576651noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1728974699087011843.post-7013075317299976622013-02-11T17:27:00.000-08:002013-02-11T17:27:11.058-08:00Ring Around the Rosie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2_UxJ4UB7IYFBMQ_7fTMevP1bt3EvhT4NED6XByz4g5eTuxKNPDEmESNlfSB2kQKEMDBvKg46JkAjq95NzxE8taZq6Crfbvn36VTteFiWwsuGJxc3dIhRB9J95bB8T-sHWNaYtI0PzJA/s1600/girl+running.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2_UxJ4UB7IYFBMQ_7fTMevP1bt3EvhT4NED6XByz4g5eTuxKNPDEmESNlfSB2kQKEMDBvKg46JkAjq95NzxE8taZq6Crfbvn36VTteFiWwsuGJxc3dIhRB9J95bB8T-sHWNaYtI0PzJA/s320/girl+running.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves>false</w:TrackMoves>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>
<w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>
<w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:DontAutofitConstrainedTables/>
<w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/>
</w:Compatibility>
</w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="276">
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was a meadow. The grass was thick, deep green, and soft
to the touch. The tree’s were tall, and guarded a small pond. Branches swayed
in the soft breeze. The air smelled sweet. The light pushed it’s way through
the trees and danced over top the pond, and made it sparkle. It was quiet here.
Except for the wind singing sweetly. It was the kind of place you could sit,
and swear you were the last person on Earth.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Suddenly, laughter came cutting through the air. A little
girl’s giggle; bubbly, and happy. She came bouncing up to the pond, her little
feet bare and dirty. Her white dress somehow not dirty at all. Her pale skin
seemed to glow as she peered at her reflection in the small pond. She got on
her knee’s to get a closer look. Little tendrils of her dark hair fell forward
and lightly touched the water. She giggled. She reached her tiny hand out for
her mirrored image, a small mysterious smirk on her angelic face. She moved so
slowly, it was as if you were witnessing a moment captured in time. A beautiful
painting. Then suddenly she slammed her hand into the water violently and
splashed and squealed. The noise and the movement did not belong in this place;
this quiet, peaceful place. She giggled again as she stood up and looked around
her. She slowly scanned her surroundings, almost like she were looking for
something. She sighed, as if she were bored, or disappointed. She began to walk
around the pond, humming to herself, carefully placing one foot in front of the
other. She stopped and looked at
the pond again. There was that smirk again. As if she knew the punch line of
some untold joke. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She started for the pond, not walking as slowly this time.
It was steady, and purposeful. Her tiny feet hit the water and she hesitated.
The water was probably cool, and fresh. She closed her eyes and breathed in.
Another smirk. She continued to walk into the pond. Farther and farther. The
water was above her knees now. Her precious white dress soaked and clinging to
her thighs. She kept on. The expression on her face was so serious, as if she
were making a difficult decision, as the water hit her waist. But she did not
hesitate as the water got higher and higher on her small body. As the water got
to her shoulders, she stopped. She looked down at her reflection again. The
only thing visible was her face. And she stared down at her reflection in a
daring way. Her soft brown eyes were full of fire, it was so out of place in
that child’s face. Whose eyes were they? Slowly she began to raise her gaze up,
soaking in everything in that moment. The water, the light, the trees, the dust
dancing in the rays of sun, the chirping of the crickets, that soft breeze
making her dark hair tickle her face. As she looked up at the sky, her face
pulled up as high as it would go, her hair falling back into the water, her
neck pulled tight, her eyes seemed to lock onto something. She held her gaze
for moments, an eternity. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I hate you,” she whispered, there was that smirk again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She flung her head into the water. Her body was completely
submerged. She swam underneath the water, touching the slippery plants that
grew underneath the water. Grabbing a handful of the mud. Looking at the pond
from the meadow, the surface was like glass, and everything was back to it’s
peaceful self. You would never guess that there was a little girl swimming
around underneath. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How long had she been down there? Suddenly the quiet was
broken again by splashing, and thrashing from the pond. Her body was jolting
and jerking, like she was having seizures. But her head remained underneath the
water. Her hands and feet splashing and flailing. If she would just come up,
she would be okay. Why won’t she come up for air? Suddenly, the water stilled.
Bubbles rose to the surface, and then all was quiet. The meadow was no longer
peaceful, there was a dark, dangerous feel to this meadow now. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Her small body rose to the surface, face down. Her white
dress floating all around her. Her dark hair reached out into the water, moving
in the water as if it had a life of it’s own. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Minutes went by….</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Minutes turned into an hour. Her body had floated closer to
the edge of the pond. Everything about that once beautiful pond, now seemed
tainted. As if it were just a part of an ugly picture now. It’s life was taken
from it, and now it was just a surrounding for her life. Her death. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Her little hand brushed against the dirt surrounding the
pond. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Her body bent forward, and now she was sitting on her knees.
Her torso rose up so that the top half of her body was not in the water any
longer. Her arms hung at her sides, and her hands were still in the water
holding herself up. Her hair fell in front of her face like a long black
curtain. She reached up and parted her hair to see. Her lashes wet, and clumpy;
her face splotchy and her lips a deep red against her pale skin. She used her
hands to prop herself up onto her feet. She slowly stood up, and stepped out of
the water. Her dress clung desperately to her body. She grabbed the hem and
tried to ring it out. She shook her head back and forth like a wet dog,
shooting water from her wet hair. She rubbed her arms to warm herself. She took
a deep breath and let out a giggle. She looked up and smirked. That same
mysterious smirk. She began to skip out of the meadow, singing “…ashes ashes…we
all fall down..”</div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05395854863636576651noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1728974699087011843.post-39095224320826678562013-02-11T12:30:00.000-08:002013-02-11T12:30:54.051-08:00Welcome<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU44C0G-3EHPL0At1IsLz2G4ijdv7oGBC45xinXvo0i8fFPL1rKjYzU9fR9ZKHq1ln7ld6Hs7Hq8NcQBfxa0QOz1sXAtO2hAZAIJc7Yfi9MaP0WCzHq_iibAWFfpdUAJK4JwdOwEQ6GS4/s1600/02153cde-b5d9-4e3c-be28-a3215deb18ab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU44C0G-3EHPL0At1IsLz2G4ijdv7oGBC45xinXvo0i8fFPL1rKjYzU9fR9ZKHq1ln7ld6Hs7Hq8NcQBfxa0QOz1sXAtO2hAZAIJc7Yfi9MaP0WCzHq_iibAWFfpdUAJK4JwdOwEQ6GS4/s320/02153cde-b5d9-4e3c-be28-a3215deb18ab.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
As long as I can remember, I have been woken by my dreams. Just shot straight up in bed, breath short, body covered in cold sweats. Disoriented. Confused. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Sometimes I remember what I was dreaming, and sometimes I don't. But you can never really shake that feeling that there was a specific reason for whatever you were dreaming, can you? </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
No one really knows why it is we dream. Messages from our subconscious, memories from a past life, God's way of communicating with us.... the list goes on. And almost all of the theories are fascinating. I wouldn't be shocked if it were proven any one of them true. Except for maybe one. I can't believe that dreams are..nothing. They are too real, too dark, ominous, happy, beautiful, spontaneous. No. I refuse to think that dreams are nothing more than meaningless drivel from the dustiest corners of our minds.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I have several theories of my own. But I'll keep those to myself for now. More so, this blog is to let people take a peek into my mind. I want you to live my dreams with me. Perhaps shed some light onto what it is my mind, or whoever/whatever, is trying to tell me. Since I was a child I have been obsessed with my dreams. Reading books, drawing pictures, retelling them, trying to relive them, remembering them, pondering them, looking up articles, watching documentaries. Theres something inside of me that knows it all means something. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Now, there is no theme to my dreams. Which is what makes it that much more difficult. I think every dream has its own individual meaning. They are all very different. Some are beautiful, and almost fairy-tale like. Magical. While others, are dark, mysterious, and cryptic. Some of these dreams may insult you. Make you feel uncomfortable. Others might make you laugh. Even cry. Whatever the emotion that is sparked in you, I want you to think 'why'. Why does it make me feel this way? Does it hit too close to home? Is it a dream you yourself have had, or similar to one you've had? Do you see the bigger meaning in it? Whatever it may be. Follow me down the rabbit hole....</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05395854863636576651noreply@blogger.com0