Wednesday, 7 November 2012
Bittersweet Bastard (To my ex-lover)
Bittersweet bastard, you plague my thoughts. Interrupting sanity with delusions.
I searched through the kitchen, but I couldn't find the mirror of your knife, so I'll keep searching. You know I'll find it soon enough, and wound you like you did I.
Don't worry, my lips will numb the pain.
Saturday, 29 September 2012
Guest Writer: David Yakimov: Vladimir's Story
The plane was trembling like a volcano ready to explode. Knowing the plane was going down, it was a matter of time until it hit earth. “Get out!” yelled the captain. We looked at each other in fear, knowing that we might not survive, seeing how dangerous the war really is. The first one to jump out was Gennadiy, who I had just met two months ago. The second one to jump was Igor, who never really talks. Then me, I looked down and saw where they were shooting us from, I feared I might get shot. Knowing I must jump, I jumped with my eyes closed. Above me I saw Dimitry falling and the plane exploded, getting hit by a missile. All those people in the plane, all those people out there, are losing their life, for what? I thought to myself, the country?
I was falling closer and closer to earth, ready to take out my parachute when Dimitry yelled “Not yet, don’t take your parachute out.”
We were friends since 3rd grade, and I would trust him with everything. “Why not? We aren’t far from earth,” I asked with curiosity.
“If we open our parachutes now, we will be an easy target for the Germans,” after about 45 seconds Dimitry yelled out, “Open you parachutes-quickly!”
We started to move right after we landed. Gennadiy said, “The Russian Front should be around here”
“Quiet! Do you here that?” asked Dimitry as everyone stopped. We could all hear the sound of the vehicles. I look around and see the Nazi cars coming this way.
“There are 3 cars,” I whispered, “2 of the cars have 4 troops in them, and the third one has one troop."
“If we surprise attack them, we might have a chance of taking the cars,” Dmitry whispered, “Vladimir, you take out the driver of the first car, and as many troops from it, Igor, you take out the last car, and I will take out the middle car, and Gennadiy, you could support our attacks,” as we laid in the grass, Dmitry slowly counted “three,” I had never killed anyone, “two,” my stomach started to twist, from the fear that I won’t be able to kill, “one” I aimed for the driver, “start shooting” I closed my eyes and pulled the trigger, but when I opened my eyes, the driver was dead, and the other three got out and started to look for us, Gennadiy and Igor started to shoot them but one spotted us and shot at us, I was watching all this, Dimitry was done with killing all the people in the middle car and went on shooting the three. I saw two of the Germans fall, the third one was behind the car. While he was shooting us through the window from the other side of the car, Dimitry got a chance and killed him. We all got up, except for Igor; he was lying face down, with red in his hair, and a small puddle of blood.
“He died because of me! It was my entire fault,” I cried out, “If only, If I would shoot when I had the chance”
There was the sound of more cars coming, “Come on, we’ll have to take this car,” Dimitry said, while taking the driver out. Gennadiy helped me get into the back seat, I stared into the distance thinking, why wasn’t it me who died? Since I was the one who didn’t do anything useful, “Come on Vladimir, it is not your fault, I remember the First time I had to kill,” I was to shocked to say anything, “It wasn’t easy, but you’ll get used to it after a while,” he said as he started the car.
“Did you hear about the Jews?” Gennadiy asked Dimitry, while the car started to move.
“Yeah, I heard that Nazis forced Jews to make weapons.”
“Not only that, they forced them to work,” said Gennadiy, as we were coming toward the Russian front, “ok come on Vladimir.”
Once I got out of the car, I was told that there is a battle going on not far from here. Dimitry, Gennadiy, and I went to the battle, as I aimed, thinking, none of my friends will die because of me from now on. I was behind the rocky wall, I shot, and I was killing them, still not fully recovered from Igor’s death, Dmitry, who was on my left, fell backward and lies still, with blood all over his face. I saw the sniper who shot Dmitry, he was on a distant building. My anger took over me, and I took careful aim with my machine gun, with my eyes watery, thinking of all those great times we had with Dimitry, I shot at the sniper, when Gennadiy saw what I was doing, he gave me a sniper gun, we both knew that I can’t hit him with a machine gun. As I looked in the scope, I saw him; he was aiming this way, ready to shoot. Pulling the trigger while thinking about Dimitry family, what are they going to do without a father? I shot him, he deserved it, for leaving a family without a father, I saw him fall of the building, and I picked up my machine gun and started to reload it.
“They killed him! They-” yelled out Gennadiy while I was reloading
“I killed him, I killed the one who has sniped Dimitry,” I said and collapsed, “Why does war have to be like this?” At that moment the shooting stopped.
“We got to keep moving,” said someone. As me and Gennadiy were advancing forward with the others, we talked about anything and everything but Dimitry, Igor and the war.
After a few days, as we were marching, there was Auschwitz camp, the Jews looked at us through the gates, they were human skeletons, and you can see every bone in their body through the skin. Most of them were sick, or dying. The camp was big, and weak Jews were all around. Gennadiy and I both rushed looking for more Jews. I saw one sitting on the ground, no strength to stand up. Gennadiy and I helped him get up and walked over to the rest of the group, where he would be fed. As we were walking him, we saw other soldiers rushing to the other side of Auschwitz and for a moment I saw how terrible war is, I saw how terrible things can be. But inside I felt good to help the people who were in need. I also felt horrible about what happened to them and how they were treated.
“I have heard of concentration camps, but I would never guess it was this horrible,” said Gennadiy.
“No one would have guessed it was this horrible,” I said, “No human deserves to be treated like this, not even animals.” I took out some canned food from my bag and gave it to the Jews. I knew that they needed it more than me. The Jews were thanking us nonstop.
I wondered how this can be happening when no one is aware of it. How can a human do that to another human? Why would people do this to each other?
Yakimov is a young writer from Kazakhstan. Currently working indipendently on his own book. His friend, and teacher, inspired him to pen Vladmir's Story.
I was falling closer and closer to earth, ready to take out my parachute when Dimitry yelled “Not yet, don’t take your parachute out.”
We were friends since 3rd grade, and I would trust him with everything. “Why not? We aren’t far from earth,” I asked with curiosity.
“If we open our parachutes now, we will be an easy target for the Germans,” after about 45 seconds Dimitry yelled out, “Open you parachutes-quickly!”
We started to move right after we landed. Gennadiy said, “The Russian Front should be around here”
“Quiet! Do you here that?” asked Dimitry as everyone stopped. We could all hear the sound of the vehicles. I look around and see the Nazi cars coming this way.
“There are 3 cars,” I whispered, “2 of the cars have 4 troops in them, and the third one has one troop."
“If we surprise attack them, we might have a chance of taking the cars,” Dmitry whispered, “Vladimir, you take out the driver of the first car, and as many troops from it, Igor, you take out the last car, and I will take out the middle car, and Gennadiy, you could support our attacks,” as we laid in the grass, Dmitry slowly counted “three,” I had never killed anyone, “two,” my stomach started to twist, from the fear that I won’t be able to kill, “one” I aimed for the driver, “start shooting” I closed my eyes and pulled the trigger, but when I opened my eyes, the driver was dead, and the other three got out and started to look for us, Gennadiy and Igor started to shoot them but one spotted us and shot at us, I was watching all this, Dimitry was done with killing all the people in the middle car and went on shooting the three. I saw two of the Germans fall, the third one was behind the car. While he was shooting us through the window from the other side of the car, Dimitry got a chance and killed him. We all got up, except for Igor; he was lying face down, with red in his hair, and a small puddle of blood.
“He died because of me! It was my entire fault,” I cried out, “If only, If I would shoot when I had the chance”
There was the sound of more cars coming, “Come on, we’ll have to take this car,” Dimitry said, while taking the driver out. Gennadiy helped me get into the back seat, I stared into the distance thinking, why wasn’t it me who died? Since I was the one who didn’t do anything useful, “Come on Vladimir, it is not your fault, I remember the First time I had to kill,” I was to shocked to say anything, “It wasn’t easy, but you’ll get used to it after a while,” he said as he started the car.
“Did you hear about the Jews?” Gennadiy asked Dimitry, while the car started to move.
“Yeah, I heard that Nazis forced Jews to make weapons.”
“Not only that, they forced them to work,” said Gennadiy, as we were coming toward the Russian front, “ok come on Vladimir.”
Once I got out of the car, I was told that there is a battle going on not far from here. Dimitry, Gennadiy, and I went to the battle, as I aimed, thinking, none of my friends will die because of me from now on. I was behind the rocky wall, I shot, and I was killing them, still not fully recovered from Igor’s death, Dmitry, who was on my left, fell backward and lies still, with blood all over his face. I saw the sniper who shot Dmitry, he was on a distant building. My anger took over me, and I took careful aim with my machine gun, with my eyes watery, thinking of all those great times we had with Dimitry, I shot at the sniper, when Gennadiy saw what I was doing, he gave me a sniper gun, we both knew that I can’t hit him with a machine gun. As I looked in the scope, I saw him; he was aiming this way, ready to shoot. Pulling the trigger while thinking about Dimitry family, what are they going to do without a father? I shot him, he deserved it, for leaving a family without a father, I saw him fall of the building, and I picked up my machine gun and started to reload it.
“They killed him! They-” yelled out Gennadiy while I was reloading
“I killed him, I killed the one who has sniped Dimitry,” I said and collapsed, “Why does war have to be like this?” At that moment the shooting stopped.
“We got to keep moving,” said someone. As me and Gennadiy were advancing forward with the others, we talked about anything and everything but Dimitry, Igor and the war.
After a few days, as we were marching, there was Auschwitz camp, the Jews looked at us through the gates, they were human skeletons, and you can see every bone in their body through the skin. Most of them were sick, or dying. The camp was big, and weak Jews were all around. Gennadiy and I both rushed looking for more Jews. I saw one sitting on the ground, no strength to stand up. Gennadiy and I helped him get up and walked over to the rest of the group, where he would be fed. As we were walking him, we saw other soldiers rushing to the other side of Auschwitz and for a moment I saw how terrible war is, I saw how terrible things can be. But inside I felt good to help the people who were in need. I also felt horrible about what happened to them and how they were treated.
“I have heard of concentration camps, but I would never guess it was this horrible,” said Gennadiy.
“No one would have guessed it was this horrible,” I said, “No human deserves to be treated like this, not even animals.” I took out some canned food from my bag and gave it to the Jews. I knew that they needed it more than me. The Jews were thanking us nonstop.
I wondered how this can be happening when no one is aware of it. How can a human do that to another human? Why would people do this to each other?
Yakimov is a young writer from Kazakhstan. Currently working indipendently on his own book. His friend, and teacher, inspired him to pen Vladmir's Story.
Tuesday, 28 August 2012
Rodrigo Y Gabriella
They entered the function separately, but were one with another now.
As they danced, the guitar ran through their heads, their feet moved in time with the Latin rhythm. Their furious footsteps echoed throughout the hall, adding to the intensity of the performance.
The two strangers danced the night away.
As they danced, the guitar ran through their heads, their feet moved in time with the Latin rhythm. Their furious footsteps echoed throughout the hall, adding to the intensity of the performance.
The two strangers danced the night away.
Sunday, 26 August 2012
With Friends Like These
As I lay at the bottom of the hill, with a broken leg, I realised I needed help to get to the hospital.
I dialed her phone number.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
My imaginary friend didn't come through in the end, I should have got a real one.
I dialed her phone number.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
My imaginary friend didn't come through in the end, I should have got a real one.
Friday, 24 August 2012
I'm Back.
So, after taking a little bit of a break to catch up on some things I've decided to return.
First things first: Thank you to Tim from 50 Word Stories.com for posting my story, Rampage, up on his site. It meas a lot to me, so thanks.
Secondly, I've been working with the idea for something a little bit... bigger, than what I have previously posted up here. I'm not going to share too much because it's only an idea, and I have only penned a tiny fraction of it (see extract below for a small sample.). I had the idea of something a little bit more violent yet understandable. I'm not attempting to write a meat-headed action story.
Lastly, and this goes out to a certain somebody: Psymon's Tale P.t. VI will be out soon enough. So you can stop biting my head off about it. :)
Any, I just wanted to say I;m back, hope you like the extract, and send in more story ideas.
Lewis
X
First things first: Thank you to Tim from 50 Word Stories.com for posting my story, Rampage, up on his site. It meas a lot to me, so thanks.
Secondly, I've been working with the idea for something a little bit... bigger, than what I have previously posted up here. I'm not going to share too much because it's only an idea, and I have only penned a tiny fraction of it (see extract below for a small sample.). I had the idea of something a little bit more violent yet understandable. I'm not attempting to write a meat-headed action story.
Lastly, and this goes out to a certain somebody: Psymon's Tale P.t. VI will be out soon enough. So you can stop biting my head off about it. :)
Any, I just wanted to say I;m back, hope you like the extract, and send in more story ideas.
Lewis
X
"You know, I never wanted to do this."
Sincerity ran through his words, but we both knew that nothing could be done to change what was about to happen. We both bowed, unsheathed our instruments, and prepared ourselves.
"I only wish you knew that I did it for the best of reasons. And for what will happen, no matter who leaves, I am sorry. My love."
And with that we began. a flurry of shimmering light dancing high above the Suppressed below. Both he and I experts at our art. Every blow deflected by the opponent, he and I danced, always keeping in time with one another. Then I noticed how I would defeat him.
Keeping on the offensive, I forced his hand, or to be more precise; his feet. I maneuvered him so as he had nowhere to retreat to, except to the streets below.
***
Remaining in the same place, we continued to duel. fatigue setting in on us both. He couldn't endure as much as I could, this was proven when he let his arm slip an inch. I did not hesitate and removed the appendage from it's owner, sword still attached via the hand. It cascaded to the streets below.
As he was doubled up in pain and shock, I executed the next phase in my attack. I turned and walked away, doubled back on myself and sprinted towards him sending us both over the edge.
The force of the impact allowed us to clear the street and fall over the lower roofs on the other side. I had time to say the last thing he would ever hear.
"It's not the fall that will kill you."
We stopped.
"it's the sudden stop at the bottom."
Sunday, 29 July 2012
Questions Answered: Would You Be Straight?
Imagine, if you will, a world in which an individual could choose their sexual orientation. Once chosen, the person's sexual orientation could not be altered again.
I was presented with this concept, and then asked if I could choose to be straight, would I. The short answer: No. The longer answer needs to be broken into multiple issues.
Straight Isn't Necessarily Right.
The way that the question is posed, as well as the way it was asked, implies that heterosexuality is "correct", or that homosexuality (and other non-heterosexualities) isn't. Now, I like to think that I'm not a heterophobe (If homophobe's a word, why can't heterophobe be?), some of my best friends are breeders; but, to claim one sexuality is right - and claim others aren't is morally wrong.
People are born into their sexual identity, they discover about a decade into their life what gender(s) they are attracted to, and that's final. People who are gay can act straight (trust me), and people who are straight can act gay (once again, trust me). This doesn't deter in any way from their actual sexual identity. Just because heterosexual sex spawns us all, does not make it "right"; or to be more specific, it does not make it the only "right" option. All sexualities are "right" in their own respect.
Loss of Identity
I have become the person I am today because of my sexual orientation and the trials that are expected to come with it, not to mention the scars (though that is the wrong term) that I have been left with.
Now, I've been lucky. I haven't come across much homophobia. When I have, I've been able to stamp it out. But, I would be a totally different person if I had not pursued the path I have taken. Simple things, such as: my first sexual encounter, my coming to grips with my homosexuality, my coming out, losing my virginity. Those are all things that would pan out in a totally different way, if I was of another sexual persuasion. My life has faults, all of our lives do. But, to be broken is special. If we are broken, we can be put on the path to be fixed, and it is in the journey of our damages and reconciliation, that we can become truly individual and unique. I would rather live with my own faults. I am happy with the individual Io have become.
So, no. No, I would not become straight, if given the choice. If any of the people I manage to rope into reading this blog have anything they would care to add, feel free to comment, or drop me an email. My email's in the About Cole section of the bog.
I was presented with this concept, and then asked if I could choose to be straight, would I. The short answer: No. The longer answer needs to be broken into multiple issues.
Straight Isn't Necessarily Right.
The way that the question is posed, as well as the way it was asked, implies that heterosexuality is "correct", or that homosexuality (and other non-heterosexualities) isn't. Now, I like to think that I'm not a heterophobe (If homophobe's a word, why can't heterophobe be?), some of my best friends are breeders; but, to claim one sexuality is right - and claim others aren't is morally wrong.
People are born into their sexual identity, they discover about a decade into their life what gender(s) they are attracted to, and that's final. People who are gay can act straight (trust me), and people who are straight can act gay (once again, trust me). This doesn't deter in any way from their actual sexual identity. Just because heterosexual sex spawns us all, does not make it "right"; or to be more specific, it does not make it the only "right" option. All sexualities are "right" in their own respect.
Loss of Identity
I have become the person I am today because of my sexual orientation and the trials that are expected to come with it, not to mention the scars (though that is the wrong term) that I have been left with.
Now, I've been lucky. I haven't come across much homophobia. When I have, I've been able to stamp it out. But, I would be a totally different person if I had not pursued the path I have taken. Simple things, such as: my first sexual encounter, my coming to grips with my homosexuality, my coming out, losing my virginity. Those are all things that would pan out in a totally different way, if I was of another sexual persuasion. My life has faults, all of our lives do. But, to be broken is special. If we are broken, we can be put on the path to be fixed, and it is in the journey of our damages and reconciliation, that we can become truly individual and unique. I would rather live with my own faults. I am happy with the individual Io have become.
So, no. No, I would not become straight, if given the choice. If any of the people I manage to rope into reading this blog have anything they would care to add, feel free to comment, or drop me an email. My email's in the About Cole section of the bog.
Wednesday, 25 July 2012
Slender Man
If you stare into the abyss, it stares back, into you. It's inhuman form rendering me so much more terrified by it's human facade, endeavouring to draw me in with it's gaze. A mortifying gaze. One without a face.
As I stood there, fixed to the earth like the tormented soul I have become, it drew near. Slender. Like a collection of branches and malevilence, gliding towards me. It's shadow would have ensnared me, if the trees and the twilight hadn't already done so.
Fear had become me, yet I managed to suppress it's evil urges. I turned on the spot and sprinted away from the woods, torch in hand, heart in mouth. I made it to the cabin, and suffered the worst kind of sleepless night.
As dawn broke, I set off for town. Swearing that it's gaze was upon me the entire time. Perhaps an illusion, I thought. How wrong I was. It had left it's tainted mark upon my mental health, and would soon enough leave it's mark upon my flesh, of this I was certain.
I shivered into the town square and managed to pass two words from between my lips. "Slender Man!" With this, the roar of the markets subsided and retreated into solitude. Nobody wanted to help, nor could they. This was my curse, my burden.
I was left in the loneliness of my abhorred situation, and it would never change. Dread wormed it's way through my mind, and it became my only thought.
I awoke to find the pitch blackness consumed the sky. Nobody had tried to move me, or leave their abodes, or so it seemed. I prayed to my god, but knew it would be of little help. The Tall One bowed to no god, it only pursued.
A pin-prick of realisation amplified into a barrage of spines that maimed my entire being. I can't live like this, everything I was, or could have been was irrelevant. I belonged to the Slender Man now.
I made my way into the woods, once more. This time knowing I would not return. I paced the previous night's route, and halted at the point where we met.
He was waiting.
Somehow, within the span of a night, he had become so much more terrifying. His attire a deeper shade of death than any that could be imagined. His grotesque form looming above me, topped by a gaze more severe than any other.
I stared into the abyss, and it stared into me.
As I stood there, fixed to the earth like the tormented soul I have become, it drew near. Slender. Like a collection of branches and malevilence, gliding towards me. It's shadow would have ensnared me, if the trees and the twilight hadn't already done so.
Fear had become me, yet I managed to suppress it's evil urges. I turned on the spot and sprinted away from the woods, torch in hand, heart in mouth. I made it to the cabin, and suffered the worst kind of sleepless night.
As dawn broke, I set off for town. Swearing that it's gaze was upon me the entire time. Perhaps an illusion, I thought. How wrong I was. It had left it's tainted mark upon my mental health, and would soon enough leave it's mark upon my flesh, of this I was certain.
I shivered into the town square and managed to pass two words from between my lips. "Slender Man!" With this, the roar of the markets subsided and retreated into solitude. Nobody wanted to help, nor could they. This was my curse, my burden.
I was left in the loneliness of my abhorred situation, and it would never change. Dread wormed it's way through my mind, and it became my only thought.
I awoke to find the pitch blackness consumed the sky. Nobody had tried to move me, or leave their abodes, or so it seemed. I prayed to my god, but knew it would be of little help. The Tall One bowed to no god, it only pursued.
A pin-prick of realisation amplified into a barrage of spines that maimed my entire being. I can't live like this, everything I was, or could have been was irrelevant. I belonged to the Slender Man now.
I made my way into the woods, once more. This time knowing I would not return. I paced the previous night's route, and halted at the point where we met.
He was waiting.
Somehow, within the span of a night, he had become so much more terrifying. His attire a deeper shade of death than any that could be imagined. His grotesque form looming above me, topped by a gaze more severe than any other.
I stared into the abyss, and it stared into me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)