Month: January 2012

Carla Rogers was in a heap of trouble. It had started when she realised she was selling firearms and ammunition to the Russian Mafia. She shuddered. That was bad enough. But when the Mafia got into a fix and lost all their weapons, they blamed Carla. They were sure she had ratted them out. So they kidnapped her to make sure she didn’t say anything else. Now she was stuck guarding this stupid cellar full of illegal weaponry. She was extremely pretty, with light brown hair and a tanned body, so she wasn’t the sort you’d expect to be involved in this line of business. But at least her orders were clear. Make sure nobody gets inside the cellar the big boss man had said,  If they do, we could go down and I’d make sure you would go down with us. Well, things could be worse. There could be someone inside the cellar. Just then, she heard a noise from behind her. Someone was inside the cellar.

It could have been hours, it could have been five minutes. Paul had no idea how long he’d been asleep. He only knew the longer he stayed here, the more dangerous the situation became. He was in the Russian Mafia’s headquarters, or more accurately, their cellar. He had had dealings with the Mafia once, trying to obtain some illegal medicine to cure his uncle of cancer. Let’s just say it didn’t work out, and Paul’s uncle died the next day. He had hoped never to return, but his wishes were sadly denied. The cellar was full of crates and there was only one door, over in the corner. He stood up, his confusion from the the time-travel passed, and stumbled over to the door. He was still a little drowsy though, and banged his knee on a crate, knocking it to the floor. There was a loud crash, and then silence. Paul held his breath, waiting for the Mafia to  come storming in with their sub-machine guns raised, like they did in the films. However, after a minute of silence, it seemed he had escaped detection. He started to walk again and then, just as he reached the door, it burst open. Paul didn’t have time to register what had happened, when as quick as lightning, he was knocked to the floor with a pistol pressed to his head.

5 Ghost

Everything seemed to blur around me. I couldn’t make sense of anything as time flew by. If I was even in a world where time exists. So this is what it feels like to be dead? Normal? No incredible warmth or ice cold feelings? Is this how I will exist for all of eternity? I was questioning death for who knows how long until I finally came back to the reality I was trapped in. I made my way back to the doctor and sat in the chair next to him.

“I see you’re finally back up on you feet.”

“I float remember? You have to say ‘I see you’re finally floating again.’” I had no idea why I was felling funny. Was humor a stage of grief?

“I don’t think we have been properly introduced. I’m the angel Patch. I look over all who come into this realm.”

“Realm. This is Heaven? Where is everyone?”

“No you’re not in Heaven.”

“Purgatory?”

“Nope.”

“Then where am I? I can’t be in hell, can I? I mean I haven’t do that bad of things. If I have then I can’t wait to see where Bianca ends up.”

“No you are not in hell. You are still technically on earth.”

“What?! So I’m a ghost?”

“Yeah you could say it like that.”

“Then what’s going on!”

“It’s a bit complicated.”

“Patch. Tell me.”

“Well you have noticed how you’re the only one here. That’s because you’re the only ghost that’s existed in over 50 years.”

“I still don’t understand. Do I need to get some help from a medium to help find the light or something.”

“No. That’s only in the movies. You have been specially chosen to go back.”

“Go back?”

“To the living.”

“Whoa. Are you saying there is a way to live? Even though I died?”

“Yes. God must have bigger plans for you.”

“Well that would have been nice to know before I went into a mental breakdown. So what do I have to do?”

“How should I know? I’m only supposed to get you this far. All I’m allowed to tell you is that you’re supposed to find the key to unlock the safe.”

“Oh gosh. Please don’t turn this into riddles. I am horrible at figuring them out.”

“Unlock the safe. That’s it. It will open easily to you but you have to make its keeper see you. That’s where you will have a bit of trouble.”

“Keeper of safe sees you, safe opens, live again. Got it. Uh who’s the keeper?”

“I can’t say anymore. Later.”

He disappeared and I was left alone. Great. Now I’ll have to figure out how to get out of here all by myself. I roamed the halls and looked for an exit sign or a ‘this way to earth!’ sign. I finally saw a blinding light shine in my eyes as soon as I turned a corner. The light grew brighter and brighter until I was consumed by it and entered another world.

**OK I”M BACK! sorry i was caught up in this AMAZING BOOK. and i never got the chance to write but the book is over and i’m typing again. at least for a little while. so right now i am way backed up on Barbarian but i have up to chapter 12 in Ghost so i’ll be posting those while i write Barbarians. and just to ask, has anyone else seen their profile pictures? They look like doodles and stuff but i didn’t post them. I like my. It has wings. I guess someone figured out the whole ALooseAvian title thing. ok i’m rambling on. Leave comments!! Give me tips on writing (I need it)! Do whatever!!! And I have been keeping up with posts but I haven’t commented in a while. ugh! Rambling sorry sorry. Later everyone! Keep writing!!**

Chapter Two of The Fugitive

Quickly he pressed himself against the floor hearing the bullets pass overhead he quickly crawled toward the back exit. He knew they would have the place surrounded but maybe he could sneak across the alleys. He decided that it was worth it. He quietly flittered out the door then stubbed his toe on a garbage can causing a loud noise. He sighed and whispered angrily, “Focus Ryan Focus.” He jumped over another trash can barely making it then he ran for what he was worth.

He knew that they would check the house to make sure they killed him and that would buy him some time. As he snuck by his neighbors garage he knew he needed a vehicle so he disabled the alarm and snuck inside. Looking around he saw no cars just a four wheeler. So without hesitation he opened the garage and raced down the driveway. He heard yelling coming from the house and put the pedal to the medal. He knew this was going it was going to be close.

He had two options whether to die or try. He decided the later. The fugitive raced around a corner pulling up beside Southwest Airport He saw a plane in the airway getting ready so he climbed a tree then jumped over the fence. He ran like he never ran before. Dodging cars and trucks he noticed a luggage escalator that was almost done. Before it was done unloading he had jumped in a huge bag and lay there silently. “Sir the luggage is done.” “We’re clear for liftoff.” a voice said right over him.

Ryan woke up to the sound of people screaming, “Help me help me.” He felt the plane doing a nose dive toward the floor. He scrambled out of the bag and into the seating area. He almost wished he didn’t. There was two men in sky masks yelling, “Everyone down.” I went back inside so they wouldn’t see me. “Why my plane,” Ryan grumbled thinking. He quickly yelled and screamed as loud as he could Hearing a one of them approach, “Hey you check it out,” a voice said. The footsteps got closer and closer. Finally one opened the door and shut it behind him peering around cautiously. He glanced at me hiding behind the door and before he could react I had knocked him unconscious.

Zak yanked the door open and fell. Down, down…around him, scenes of his life replayed before his eyes. The dustbin he was abandoned in, the orphanage, the bullies, meeting Detroit, the murders, school…falling…he couldn’t stop…and all around, the laughter continued.

——–

I love writing dreams. I really do. The creepier, the better. So, while writing the dream sequence I had “Nobody’s Home” by Avril Lavigne playing. It got to that EXACT bit in the song….and I had to chuck it in(: Of course, I changed the lyrics a bit to make it match. But hey. Full credit goes to Avril(:
xThreeDaysGracex

Paul toppled forward but he never hit the floor. Instead, his mind seemed to disconnect from his body, and it seemed to zoom inside the little silver orb. Just then, Paul realised that maybe time-travel wasn’t such a great idea after all. He started shooting through his life, and it happened in a single second, as though time didn’t exist here. Then, as he reached the point he had chosen, he was flung forward into a vortex of time. It was completely silver, the same colour as the orb. It seemed to last forever, though in reality it was less than a nanosecond. Then, finally, his feet touched solid ground.

He was in a cellar. It was hard to tell much else through the silver mist still blocking his vision, but even he could see that much. It took a few minutes for his eyes to clear, but when they did, he looked at his surroundings carefully. Paul knew this place, he was sure of it, but it remained at the edge of his memory, just beyond reaching point. He looked at his watch. It had of course, stopped. Paul chuckled. This was just like a science fiction film. He got to his feet and started to walk. He managed three steps, before falling flat on his face with exhaustion. As he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness, he remembered where he’d seen this cellar before. And it was not good. Not good at all.

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Hi guys! Thanks for reading this short episode of “Reverse”. If you did read it, well done, please leave a comment. If you skipped to the end, damn you. I’ve just read through my story and I realise it’s highly cliched. I didn’t realise this when I was writing, but I kind of ripped off Doctor Who. If you’ve ever seen it, you know what I mean. If you haven’t, go watch it now. Great show.

Any way, thanks for reading, keep following Reverse, there’s much more to come and always comment!      XD

Paul gaped. It looked just like any other walking stick or staff, but he felt an aura of power radiating from it. It was a dark blue colour, with Black stripes up the sides. At the top, there was a silvery orb. Inside, was a strange glowing mist that Paul somehow knew could snap his mind in an instant. He stumbled forward and picked it up. As soon as his hands touched it, the silver started spinning rapidly. Inside it, the mist had cleared to reveal a scene that seemed somewhat familiar. It him a moment to realise that this was his sixteenth birthday. He gazed upon the picture fondly, remembering the happiness of that day. Then, the scene changed and he was looking at two young sleeping in a dorm in what looked like his old college. And then it became his trip to Spain. And then finally, it became his mother’s funeral. Paul’s heart clenched and he thought Back a bit please. The staff must have bonded with his brain because it zoomed back to two weeks before, when his mother was fine and dandy. Paul knew this was it, so tried the last step to use the staff. He cleared his mind of all thoughts, and then spoke out the word of power. “Reverse. . .”

I stood up and grabbed my sack. My face throbbed in pain. I took the pins out of my hair again and went to the marketplace. I yelled, “Guards! I need your help! I will reward you generously!” The guards who chased me before came. I explained to them what happened and what the boy looked like. They saw a boy who looked like him, chased him, and wrestled him to the ground, just like they did to me. They grabbed the tiara and part of the money that I took that I didn’t even know was there. This boy must have really searched around in my sack. They returned to me the money and the tiara.  I decided to pay the fruit-seller from whom I had stolen previously, when I didn’t know that I still had a large sum of money hidden in the bottom of my sack. I counted the money. It was an extremely large sum, and I would be able to pay the merchant and still have a lot of money left. And so I paid the merchant.

I pinned up my hair again and walked. I had absolutely no idea where I was going. I must have looked rather awful, since a woman spotted me in the crowd and came over to me. She put her hand on my face. She smelled of perfume, face cream, and face powder.  She had a beautiful dress on and her hair was braided. She appeared to be of the high-society. I think I may have seen her a few times at balls. “Oh, you poor darling,” she exclaimed. “Somebody must have beaten you quite badly. Come with me to my home. I will give you comfort, food, and shelter,” she said sympathetically. “B-But,” I stammered. I had plans to take a coach to the country and perhaps find an inn or an abandoned shack to stay. “I will not take no for an answer. You must come with me,” she said dramatically. I supposed that if one is willing to be so charitable, I should not refuse. So I joined her.

We walked along, her skirts rustling as we walked. “Who did this to you?” she asked, almost angrily.  I did not feel comfortable telling her the full story, so I simply replied, “A boy selling papers. He wanted to steal my sack.” We walked in silence to her home.

The minute we got to her home, my suspicions were confirmed: she was part of the high society. Her house was almost as grand as our palace, with gorgeous balconies and buttresses. She led me up the spiral staircase. She opened a door. “This is where you’ll be staying,” she said. “You can’t stay in those rags. Let me give you some of my son’s clothing. How old are you?” “Twelve”, I replied. “Perfect.”, she said. She went and came back with a stack of clothes, a wash basin filled with water from a stream down the road, and a bar of soap. “Here,” she said, “wash and change your clothes.” I washed and changed my clothes. The woman knocked. She came in with bandages and such and took care of my wounds. “What shall I call you?” I asked. “Mrs. Peabody. My son’s name is Caleb.”, she answered. “Now lie down and rest.” I lay down. There was a stack of books on the bedside table. I picked one up and started to read.

There was a knock on the door. “Who is it?” I yelled. “Caleb. Caleb Peabody.” a rather manly voice for a boy of twelve answered. “Come in.” A tall, strong-looking, rather handsome  boy around my age, with brown hair and blue eyes came in. “Hello.”, he said, “You’re rather small, aren’t you?” He struck me as rather pleasant, so I decided to reveal that I am a girl. “It’s because I’m not a boy.”, I said as I unpinned my hair and the thick blond hair spilled on to my shoulder. His blue eyes widened. “You’re Princess Catalina!” he exclaimed. “Yes. Yes I am. But let’s keep this our secret.”, I reply. I then tell him the whole story. He looks at me dreamily. Then he leans in. I’m confused. He kisses me. I kiss back.  That was a big surprise. I actually like him, so I don’t mind. After he breaks away, I say, “A bit young, aren’t we?” He shrugs. I take a paper and write down the address of the palace. “So you can send me letters or visit me. Momma and Papa won’t mind, since you’re part of the high society.”, I say as I hand the paper to him.

We walk downstairs. Mrs. Peabody introduces me to everybody. When she introduces me to Caleb, I say, “I’ve already met him.” and wink at him. We both laugh. Mrs. Peabody looks bewildered, but she doesn’t question why we’re laughing.

They wrestle me to the ground. I’m breathing heavy.  The guards get off of me. I stand up. One guard whispers to another, “Thing looks like a girl.” I hear them, take the pins out of hair, and yell,”I am a girl! I’m Princess Catalina!” The guards laugh. “And I was knighted,” one says, little bits of saliva flying out of his mouth.  “No,” I yell, close to tears.  I take out the thing that I put in my sack that Momma and Papa say always proves that I’m royalty: my tiara. They see it and start asking tons of questions.  “It’s a long story,” I say. “But if you don’t tell my parents and let me take the fruit, I will make sure that you are rewarded.” That calms them and they go hunt down other beggars and thieves.

I pin my hair up again and set off, sneaking between alleyways. A boy in a hat, selling papers, comes up to me. Pointing to my noticeably heavy sack, he says, “What do you have there?” “Nothing.”, I say. He pounds his fist in to his hand and says, “Nothing valuable enough for me not to steal it, eh?” I’m frightened, but I stand my ground. “No. I got lots of money yesterday while begging by the markets, so I was able to buy lots of food.”, I state. Next thing I know, I’m lying on the ground bruised and bloodied, most of the contents of my sack still there. I notice no glimmer and gasp. He took the tiara!

I was so frustrated and tired of the same thing every single day. I needed to break free of the grind. Tomorrow night, I would be going to a bat mitzvah party for these twin girls in my class. Maybe that’s what I needed to get out of my rut

The next night, I got dressed. When I got to the party, my friends were already there. So we’re talking and hanging out, and I’m making sarcastic comments. Then the most obnoxious kids in my class arrive, one of them being my beloved companion from math. (I later found out that they actually crashed.) Okay, breathe. They don’t acknowledge me. Brief sigh of relief. We sit down to eat. Once again, we’re eating and chilling out. Then comes a moment that will go down in my personal history as the awkwardest moment in my life: the squeeze. (Cue the dramatic music.)  Yes, one of the obnoxious crew, actually squeezed my shoulders. One moment I was talking and chilling, and the next minute I felt a squeeze. I turned around, and yelled, ” You jerk! Get off- now!” Then came the sorrounding of our table. The rest was just a blur of sarcastic comments and the few moments I remember are my beloved companion asking for a dance and a fist bump, another kid asking for high-fives, and the discussion of how jerky the boys are. The rest of the night-dancing.

I basically got what I wanted- a break from the daily grind.

The door swung open with ease, as if someone had oiled it recently. Not a nice thought. Paul looked around. There were lots of dusty vases, and even a stuffed panther’s head on the wall. He walked through the threshold, into a long corridor with lots of doors. Okay thought Paul The staff should be easy to spot. I mean, there aren’t that many time-controlling staffs around. But the search proved harder than he thought. Door after door he opened, and each one filled with nothing interesting, just dry, old books and relics. After two hours, he was confident he had searched the house from top to bottom, without a trace of the staff. He was about to leave in a very bad temper, when something caught his eye. There was a very small crack in the floor, half hidden by the carpet. He bent down and lifted it up, to inspect the crack. But he realised it was more than just a fissure in the wood. It was a trapdoor.

He had climbed into the narrow space and found himself in an almost completely bare room. At first he thought it was empty, so his heart ached with disappointment. But then he noticed something leaning against the wall behind him. It was a staff.

I crept down the steps slowly. I still hadn’t changed out of the torn, dirty rags that I’ve been wearing for a week. My cat, Tabby La Roux (The French are fascinating people.), crawled in to my lap and squealed. “Shhh,” I whispered. “You musn’t make them aware that I’m here.” I saw my friend Annabelle, her father Andre, who was a member of our household staff, Momma, and Papa sitting on the couch. Momma sat looking stricken. “I-I just c-can’t und-derstand,” Annabelle sputtered.  All of the sudden, Momma snapped out of her catatonic state. “Ah!”, she exclaimed. She recalled an incident before a ball, while the maids were lacing up our dresses in which I, and I quote,  her “mild-mannered” daughter, told her that she wanted to be a commoner. After recalling this incident, she burst in to tears, stating that she didn’t know that I would actually do it.

I picked up my dear, dear Tabby La Roux and climbed up the spiral staircase. I went in to my sleeping chambers and sat in my lovely canopy bed. I sunk back and started to recount my travels.

I stand up and brush the pebbles off of me. The pebbles had pressed in to my hand and made little marks.  The marks were like my life, scattered, unexpected, and sometimes out of order.

The next day, I walked in to homeroom. I sat down and got out my stuff.  Our teacher gave us time before the first period bell to just hang out, go to our lockers, and get our stuff out.  A girl in my class named Anna came up to me. Immediately, a big neon sign saying “UH-OH!” flashed in my head. I had a history with this girl. You see, in fourth grade, I used to be friends with her. Until I wised up and realized that she was using me for homework answers and so that she could spit back whatever I said to her “real” friends and use it as gossip material. I dumped her like a hot potato. In fifth grade, she came back for revenge and bullied me mercilessly. I learned to ignore it becuase by the end of the fifth grade, I found my real friends and finally learned just to be myself, even if the real me is different. In sixth grade, I gained the admiration of the boys, who I sometimes liked, becuase they were less judgemental than girls, but sometimes hated because they were annoying, teasing jerks. Anyway, this girl came up to me. That day, I wore the llama shirt my sister made me. (Confession: I have a llama obsession and my sister sometimes is nice.)  She asked me a few humiliating questions. By the time she finished her interrogation, I was gripping my book so hard I thought I would rip it apart. I yelled at her. She acted innocent. Typical.

Fast foward to sixth period. I’m sitting in math. I’m ready to kill the kid that sits next to me since he stole my eraser and won’t give it back. Jerk. SO typical.

Fast foward to five P.M. I’m talking about my day. TYPICAL!

GRRRRRRR!

4 Hospital

I woke up and looked up at a white roof that seemed a little to bright for comfort. I expected a feeling of pain or at least an upset stomach but strangely I felt… normal. It was almost like it was all a dream. I sat up and found myself in what looked like a hospital room. Was I sick? Did someone find me and saved me after I blacked out? Or maybe it was a long time after the men… Now the feeling of pain in my stomach swooped in and I managed to grab a trash can before throwing up until I was coughing dry heaves. I was a bit wobbly when I got out of bed but it was nothing to serious. I saw a simple white arrow pointing down the hallway and I walked down the strangely empty hall. It seemed as if this place was abandoned but is was in a pristine and clean shape. And everything was white, almost too white. I finally saw a counter with a man in white cloths, shoes, and hair relaxing at his white desk and mindlessly reading a white book. I stopped in front of the desk and stood there awkwardly while he was reading. I cleared my throat a little and he looked up. I stared at me for a second and his jaw completely fell open. Then he yelled out loud and threw his book up in the air. It seemed to have disappeared into thin air but I told myself I was just hallucinating. Probably symptoms of whatever I’m in here for.

“Um, sorry to bother you but I don’t really know where I am and I need some help. I would like to go home.”

“Oh God help me.” He made the sign of the cross and looked at me. “Ok um. Sorry I haven’t been working in a while. Uh well this is going to be a bit hard for you to take and for me to say.” He began to pace behind his desk, trying to figure out a way to tell me what ever it was that was so important. He finally turned to me. “What is the last thing you remember before you got here?”

“I remember being in a dark ally downtown. These drunkards came and closed me in. I’m glad I don’t remember the rest.” I shivered at the thought but only because I had nothing in my stomach to throw up. He did a quick search on a computer (That was also white) and nodded.

“Your here: That’s how it says you…” He cut off and left the sentence lingering like he wanted to tease me.

“I thought doctors weren’t supposed to keep secrets from their patients. Now if you don’t mind, I would like to call my parents. Do they even know where I am? Is there a phone I can use?”

“Your parents aren’t here.” I looked at him for a second and then he slapped his head. “Of course!!! All those years of training and I didn’t think of it before! Come here. Maybe you can draw a conclusion of your own.”

We walked down the hall and turned into an unlabeled room where a few unimportant objects sat. A box of dirt sat in the corner and he poured a bucket of water into it, turning the dry dirt into wet mud.

“Put you feet in here.”

“Um excuse me? Is that a normal medical procedure?”

“No but it will help you answer all the questions you’ve been asking. Step in.”

I shrugged my shoulders. What harm could a foot mud bath do? I stepped in and felt its squishy texture squeeze in between my toes. I sat there for a second until me grabbed my hand to help me out.

“Walk around.” So I stomped all around the room and knew I was getting the floor beyond dirty. I wondered why he wanted me to do this. “Now look at your foot prints.”

I turned to look at my handy work. Only problem was they weren’t there. The floor was a white and spotless as ever. I looked down at my feet to make sure if they even were dirty and they were. But when I slid my mud-caked feet on the floor, no mark was left behind.

“Ok, what is this stuff. It is really cool.”

“It’s not the mud that’s the problem. It’s you. I mean you aren’t a problem but you can no longer leave foot prints.”

“Why?”

“Come here.” He brought me towards a mirror across the room and I stared at my self.

“Ok? So what am I supposed to be looking for?”

“Look at your feet really closely.”

I looked in the mirror and saw my normal looking, bare, dirty feet standing out from the white background. But when I looked closer I saw how they weren’t on the ground at all. I nearly fell back from the shock of thinking I was floating in mid-air. I crouched down and felt my feet  to make sure they were still there. Then I stuck my hand in the air between my feet and the ground. They weren’t that far off really. I could just fit my figure though it was squeezed between my foot and the floor. It confused me. A lot. It felt like I was standing firm on the hard floor but there was proof right before my eyes that I was floating in the air even though you wouldn’t notice unless you look for it.

“I’m floating.” I somehow managed to find the words.

“Yes you are.”

“I’m–I’m floating.” I didn’t seem able to get over the fact.

“Yes. You said that already. So what do you think this means?”

“Am I? Am I no longer…alive?” he nodded and the wind flew out of me. The doctor grabbed a chair out of thin air but I didn’t pay much attention to that. I couldn’t breath. Actually I literally couldn’t breath because I was…

Dead.