Three Piles of White Ash

my revised scary story for hnrs. eng. I. tell me if you like it!!!

Curtained in long lashes and eyelids shadowed in black, the woman's eyes were closed. She lay on the floor of the forest, the dead, lifeless trees stretching into eternity before her. Her bloodless face the palest of whites and her body covered in a ruby red cloak. Her long hair, tangled with twigs and leaves, fell about her face. Lips the color of blood whispering to the grey sky, dusk approaching as quick as the desperate whispers; she was whispering.
The man watched her seemingly lifeless body, waiting for her to breathe. She is whispering, he thought. She is whispering, but not breathing. It didn't seem possible, but there she lay, still as a lifeless corpse, whispering without breathe. He gasped as she sat up. He watched, enticed by her beautiful face to look onwards; he admired the perfect face.
She looked at him through her closed eyelids, but suddenly that sight was not enough. She stood up. She opened her eyes, expecting to see his horrified face turn and run. He stood still watching her, his face even. She saw more clearly his face, his closed eyes. She gazed, shocked.
He saw her eyes and felt the urge to run. They were the same kind. He approached her, touching her face as it hung awkwardly from her neck in the position of a dead person, touching her face around her white eyes. She responded by touching his closed eyelids and swerving uncomfortably, disturbingly. He ignored the burn he felt when he touched her skin.
She watched with certain fascination as he opened his eyes. She looked into the whiteness that lay between his eyelids. She felt the burn where he touched her face. Her red lips pressed into a smile, the burning felt good. She reveled in the touch of his long, elegant fingers. She picked a twig from his dark, tangled hair. She ran her fingers along his red lips. She barely noted that his head was hanging awkwardly from his neck. Watching his face with an upsetting amount of attentiveness, she did not notice the moon rising.
But, then, he did not see the moon rise either; he saw nothing but her glorious face.

OKAY... i'll post the rest later... i got dance!!!

Because sometimes, all you need is a dream...

And this story, here, is the fulfillment of simple things I've always wanted to do. I've always wanted to dance on the rain, and go to camp on a farm, and have to wear 'girly' clothes (I know that's a stretch, but sometimes I'd love to pull off being kind of Indie), and manage all these guy friends (NOT something I'm good at), and have this poetic ability to step back when I really would like to snap a certain annoyance's head off. This is the embodiment of dreams. My FAV <3


The rain pattered on my roof. I looked at Jane, my best friend, sleeping on the couch in my room. I saw the rain racing down the window in crystalline streams. I looked back at Jane, then out the window. I made my decision and pushed up the window stepping out on the roof. Scaling down the terrace, I wondered what Jane would think when she saw my bed was empty. Maybe I’d be back by then. The rain was cold and wet and felt so good on my skin. I stepped out the back gate and into the alleyway, twirling in the rain.
The moon wasn’t covered by the rain; rather it was amplified by the rain. I spun around with my eyes closed at the droplets fell down my arms, legs, and torso; I breathed deeply. After waking up from the haze, I slid back into my backyard and climbed the terrace to return sitting on my roof. Jane knocked on the window. I smiled and waved for her to come out.
“Hey there, I was wondering where you went,” she said, climbing out. “Dancing in the rain?”
“Yeah, just did it impulsively,” I said. Jane looked at me as if I were crazy. Maybe I was. She smiled softly. “Look,” I pointed. “There’s Matt.” I pointed to a car’s dimmed lights pulling into the driveway down the street.
“There’s Matt,” she echoed. The rain pulsed her hair into her face and I brushed it away.
“You missed him, didn’t you,” I commented. She nodded, blinking fast. “Don’t worry, he’s here now.”
“Yeah, I’m glad he is.”
“Let’s go back inside, Jane,” I suggested. “I need to change.”
“Same here,” she said quietly.
With that, we climbed back down into my room and grabbed towels from my bathroom.
“What’s it feel like?” I whispered.
“What?” she asked, surprised.
“Love. Remind me,” I replied.
“It’s like – whenever he sees me, he smiles so wide and you can see that he really is happy to see me. And whenever he claims me as his, my chest puffs out like a rooster’s and I can’t contain my happiness; I feel so happy just to know that I love him.” Jane looked at me and touched my shoulder. “He was a jerk, Claude. Forget him.”
“Kind of hard to,” I said bitterly. “He was my first. He’s still mad for no reason at all. Guess he can’t get over it. I’d like to be friends like we were.”
“It’s Tom, Claudia,” she tried to console my guilt. “Tom never gets over anything.”

Comments? Questions? Need for plot development? Email me, txt me, COMMENT!!!!
Much Love,
Asiat

not much :(

Simon Lex was a man of few words, fewer friends, and even fewer ambitions. He was tall, lanky, and somewhat nerdy; he had grey eyes, pale skin, and dark brown hair. He spoke only when he had something to say. He worked as a consultant and investigator with police and was extremely popular because of it. And all this was unwanted recognition and fame.
For some unfathomable reason, women were attracted to him, even though he was extremely uncomfortable with most of them.
“I am quite busy, Miss,” was all he would say to the girls who called for his attention, looking through his specs and over his book. Women, in truth, felt secure around him – but, was there any woman who wouldn’t? He was, after all, responsible for putting eighty criminals behind bars.
Simon Lex would seem to many as a man without a home, but this was not so. He lived with his school mate, Tom Goldings. Tom Goldings shared the inherited house with his sister, Harriet ever since their parents murder twelve years previously. Lex had solved the murder when he was just seventeen. And, despite this tragedy, they were all the best of friends – even though Simon’s fancy for Harriet provided for some awkward situations.

All I've got for now, girlies!
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Vortican, check your inbox!!!

Okay, I give up on the Oakland/HighSchool post - it's much too hard to take pictures of Oakland when you're on a moving bus that wants to kill you. :( It's also very weird when people stare at you because you're taking pictures of yourself or them...

BUT, i continue my grand quest of posting Kristy's Story. And, like i said, Vortican CHECK YOUR INBOX!!!! you too, ECPM! you'll find a summary in there and the "final scene". *MUCH SPOILERS*

While the others laughed over scrambled eggs, I quietly walked upstairs. Allan was still sleeping peacefully. I brushed the hair away from his face and marveled at his perfect boyish complexion. I knew that from the day he was born to the day he died, he would be the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to me. He was the greatest miracle I could have ever received. I sat on the bed next to him, just looking at him.
There was a knock at the door.
“May I come in?” Emilia asked. I nodded. She came and stood by me. “He’s a marvelous-looking boy. Going to be a killer with the ladies, I see.” I just smiled.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “He’s a killer already. Killed Alice and me.” Emilia patted my shoulder.
“Where’s his father in all this mess?” she said. “It’s a shame.”
“It is a shame,” I said coldly.
“I’m sorry,” Emilia said. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No,” I said “You shouldn’t have.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was wondering if you still were offering to help around here. Jack saw some questionable people hanging around. He thought that it would look more normal if you would do something. I told him I’d ask, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“No,” I said. “I want to do something to help. You’ve already saved our lives. That’s a debt not so easily paid. What do you want me to do first?”
“I thought you’d say that,” Emilia smiled. “I’ll go get some clothespins and the wet laundry. You see, in the country, we still air-dry our laundry.”
“My only request is that somebody stay with Allan,” I said.
“Well, Chief said one of the boys gotta’ stay with you, the other’s gotta’ stay with Allan,” she explained. “So that’s taken care of. Let me call Jack to take the first shift with Allan. In four hours Jack and Allan’ll switch. Okay?”
“Sure. Now where’s that laundry?”


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Much Love, my girls,

A.

More, More, More...

We have a while before I have to switch to the "new" story (that I told Vortican about...). I'll probably do a post about highschool within the next week (when stuff like pictures of Oakland are taken...)

BUT till then, more Kristy's story. And, c'mon guys!!!, I NEED A NAME!!!

I slipped into a nightgown and was surprised at just how exhausted I was. I fell in and out of sleep anyway and woke up before five. I took my shabby bathrobe and bundled myself in it and went downstairs.
“Oh, I didn’t think anyone was awake besides me.” I gasped and turned, but it was only Jack. “Do you want some coffee?” he asked. I nodded.
“How did you get here so early?” I asked, leaning on his mother’s kitchen counter.
“I sometimes sleep on the couch, when mum let’s me,” he explained. “Besides, Chief told me I was supposed to stay. What do you want?”
“Milk and two sugars,” I replied. “I feel like I’m intruding. Does your mum do this often?”
“She used to, back when dad was alive,” he said, stirring the coffee. “Dad would bring all manner of people – criminals and judges, too – home and somehow they all behaved. They said it was because my mum didn’t take nonsense.”
“I’m sure,” I said wryly.
“She didn’t,” Jack said honestly. “Never, ever.”
“Hmmm,” I said, mocking thoughtfulness. “At least Allan won’t get spoiled here.” He laughed. “I’m serious. Alice would… Oh Alice.”
“C’mon, the hospital’s open now,” Jack said. “Mum’s got a telephone for emergencies, so you can call ‘em. See how Ms. Brown is.” He got up and called the hospital up on the telephone.

“Hello?”
“Hello, I’m calling to inquire about Ms. Alice Brown,” I said, trying to be really nice. “About her condition.”
“And who is inquiring?”
“Ms. Kristy Clare,” I answered.
“Okay. Ms. Brown is in stable condition.”
“And?” I asked.
“I can’t disclose this information with anyone but the family. I’m sorry, have a nice day.” Then I heard her place the telephone back.


I sighed, somewhat disappointed.
“I don’t think they’ll let me see her,” I whispered. A tear fell from my cheek and I whipped it away quickly.
“What’s that?” Jack asked, handing me a hot cup of coffee.
“Thanks,” I said. He nodded. “I said that I don’t think they’ll let me see Alice ‘cause I’m not family.” I gulped the coffee down.
“I’m sorry ‘bout that,” he said, smiling gently.
“It’s alright,” I replied.
“Hey, there,” Andy Mercy said, coming down the stairs. “Your mum’s coming down the front steps, Stork.” Andy poured himself a cup of coffee.
“Morning, Andy,” I smiled.
“Morning, Ms. Clare,” Andy smiled.
“Jack! Get over here!” Mrs. Wilson cried. Jack rolled his eyes; patted Andy’s back and left.
“Where you from, Andy?” I asked.
“I’m from the slums,” he answered. He got up and poured himself some coffee. We clinked cups.
“’Morning, Andy, Kristy,” Mrs. Wilson hollered, coming into the kitchen. “How are you two on this fine and dandy morning?”
“I’m well, Mrs. Wilson,” I smiled. “What about you? Is there anything I can do to help around here?”
“Don’t worry about doing nothing, Kristy,” Mrs. Wilson said, rubbing my shoulders. “We’re all family here, so eventually I’ll use you for somethin’. And call me Emilia, or Em, please.”
“I’m sure there’s something I can do around here,” I said, eager to help. If this woman was going to risk her life to save me, the least I could do was some household chores. “The dishes maybe?”
“Maybe, Kristy,” Emilia laughed. “Maybe.”


Good? Commentos? Have fun!

Ciao, Darling gals :P

Asiat.

*_* Star struck and gunshots

VIOLA!!!!!



“There a reason you don’t want me to meet ‘Mercy’?” I asked.
“Andy Mercy is a rookie, Ms. Clare,” Jack said, looking forward. “He wouldn’t know the first thing about protecting anybody.”
“Ain’t you a nice fella,” I said sarcastically.
“Ain’t I, though?” he laughed. “Where do you two live?”
“Just down the street,” I said, leading the way with Allan. I got to the dark apartment building and took out my key. “This is it,” I said. “Home sweet home.” I lead him up the stairs, opened the door, and turned on the lights.
“Get down!” Jack roared, shoving Allan and me down on the floor. I heard gunshots and then more as Jack returned fire.

Suddenly there was silence.
“Is everyone okay?” Jack asked, his voice breaking unevenly.
“Yeah, I think so,” I said. “Allan?”
“Here, mum,” I heard him call. I sighed deeply.
“Thank God,” I whispered. Tears came into my eyes. “Oh thank God.” Allan crawled into my arms in an array of glass.
“Thank God, mum,” he said innocently. “He always protects us.”
“He has a pretty good idea of protection,” Jack said sarcastically.
“Excuse me,” I said. “A little less negativity.”
“Sorry,” Jack said. I could tell he didn’t mean it.
“C’mon, Allan, let’s get you to bed,” I said, taking his hand.
“Ms. Clare, there’s no way you’re staying here tonight,” Jack said seriously. “I’m calling Chief.” I shrugged my shoulders.
“Allan, let’s go get packed,” I said. Allan and I walked to the dresser and began packing our few possessions into suitcases. I helped Allan into his pajamas. I picked him up and he fell asleep with his head on my shoulder.

Jack hung the telephone up and turned to me.
“Chief says we have to find you somewhere else to stay,” Jack said.
“I have a feeling you know where,” I said, shifting Allan’s weight.
“Yeah,” he said, picking up our bags. “Mercy’s got a car waiting.” We snuck downstairs and jumped into the back seat of Mercy’s car. Mercy turned from the driver’s seat.
“Hey there, I’m Andy Mercy,” he said. “Just call me Andy.”
“I’m Kristy Clare, Andy,” I replied, quickly shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Pedal to the metal, Mercy,” Jack said roughly. “We’re not being followed just yet.”
“Yes, sir,” Andy said. Allan woke up half way through the journey, but I lulled him back to sleep.

“Mum?” Jack asked, walking into the big house. He lived in the middle of the country, too; or at least his mum did. “Mum?” he called again.
“I’m coming,” she said. She came out of the kitchen in a bathrobe. “Chief called earlier to explain the situation. Hey there, Andy! And you must be Ms. Clare!”
“Just Kristy,” I said quietly. “This is Allan.”
“I’m Emilia Wilson. He’s adorable,” she smiled. “I’ll take you to your rooms.” She took us to a small child’s room. “Here’s where Allan’ll sleep.”
“Excuse me, I’m so sorry, but do you mind if Allan sleeps with me? I’d feel safer if he did for now,” I said. I wasn’t all that willing to let him go when there were killers after us.
“Oh, sure. Less sheets to wash,” she said. She lead us to another big room. “Here you go. G’night, Ms. Clare.”
“Kristy, please,” I smiled.
“Good night, Kristy,” she replied. “Sleep well, both of you."

----------------------------------------------------<3

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>_< Impatience

Allan and I took the bus back to Alice’s house. The police swamped Alice’s porch, house, and yard. But they also created a block around a car, which left soon after we came.
“Hello, Ms. Clare,” a uniformed officer said, putting his hand out. “I’m Chief Cratt. We found the guy who did this to Mrs. Brown, he’s in custody. The only problem is that we need someone to testify that he was there.”
“I’ll testify,” I said.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Don’t ask me again, sir,” I touched his shoulder. “If I said I’d do it, I’ll do it.”
“You’ll need protection,” he said.
“I’ll take whatever protection precautions you deem necessary,” I said.
“Okay, you wait over there and I’ll send an officer over,” he said pointing. “You’re aware that you’ll be having an officer in your house from this day till a month after you testify.”
“I have a couch,” I laughed. “Chief, don’t worry about it.”

I watched the Chief walk to various officers and whisper in their ears. Each of them shook their head or just said no. Finally, one of them shrugged his shoulders and started walking over to me.
“Hello, Ms. Clare,” the man said, looking at me with genteel grey eyes. “I’m the policeman who will be protecting you while you’re testifying.”
“I don’t need protecting, Detective,” I said stubbornly. “My son does, but I don’t.”
“Well, then I’m protecting him,” he said, shrugging his shoulders again. “By the way, I’m Detective Jack Stork, Ms. Clare.”
“Kristy Clare,” I said, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you, Detective. My son’s over there – his name’s Allan; adores policemen, firemen, any kind of public service man, really. You’ll be getting a lot of attention from him, Detective Stork.”
“It will be a pleasure to find someone who like us law enforcement,” Detective Jack said, smiling at me. “And you don’t have to call me Detective Stork. Just call me Jack.” He wasn’t exactly handsome, but he had a nice face; pretty grey eyes; a pretty bashed up nose and all the regular features a young cop seem to have. He wasn’t fat, but he wasn’t a stick either. Seemed like he just had a muscle build.
“Okay then, Jack,” I said. I watched him go over to Allan. He seemed really familiar.

“Hello, sir,” Allan said, looking quite sad.
“Hey there,” Jack replied. “I’m Detective Stork – you can call me Jack though.”
“Does anyone else call you Jack?” Allan asked, only half-curious.
“Naw, not really,” he said. “But you can be a first. What’s your name?”
“Name’s Allan Joshua Clare,” Allan said.
“Well it’s nice to meet you, Allan Joshua Clare,” Jack said, shaking hands with my son. “I’m the policeman protecting you and your mom.”
“Oh,” Allan said. There was a silence and for a second I didn’t want them to talk.
“You know, Allan,” Jack said, taking a sigh and leaning on Alice’s porch steps. “You know, I grew up in the slums. I was dumped in St. Mary’s orphanage.”
“Really?” Allan said. He wasn’t interested at he normally was, but he was listening.
“Yeah, I got adopted by these two old people. They raised me and loved me,” he explained. “My adopted dad was a cop, so I always wanted to be one too.”
“Uh huh,” Allan said. “Mum grew up in St. Mary’s orphanage, Jack.”
“Oh really?” he said looking at me. I don’t know why, but I blushed.
“Yeah, really; thought you were familiar,” I replied. “Allan, you ready to go home?”
“Yeah, mum,” he said. We both stood up, preparing ourselves for a tedious trek home. We grabbed each other’s hands and started out of Alice’s alley way.
“Excuse me, Ms. Clare? You too, Jack,” the police chief said. Jack and I came to stand by the chief. “Ms. Clare, you know you are a witness that needs protecting. And Jack here is the guy protectin’ you right?”
“Right, chief, but my son’s the one who needs protecting, not me,” I said.
“Why’s that?” Chief asked.
“They’ll use my son to get to me, Chief. They won’t touch me,” I said quietly.
“I hope you’ve gotta couch in your living room, because Jack’s not going anywhere till you and your son are safe, Ms. Clare,” he said.
“Now wait a second, Chief,” Jack said. “I don’t want to intrude on Ms. Clare and I don’t have so much as a toothbrush packed!”
“Ms. Clare?” the Chief asked. “It’s up to you, but you need protecting.”
“It’s alright with me; I have toothbrushes at my house,” I said. There wasn’t a whole lot I could do about it now. I had to stay alive to raise Allan. “But if Jack here needs to get his stuff, then I guess you could send another officer with us.”
“Naw,” Jack said. “I’ll give Mercy the key and tell him what to get and where to get it in my apartment, Chief.”
“Okay, it’s settled then,” Chief said. “Bye, Ms. Clare, Allan, Jack.”
“Bye, Chief,” Allan said. Jack and I nodded.

NOW I bet that none of you whooped when the genteel officer with grey eyes came unto this virtual page. :(
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