Wanderer's Journal #22

Marie-Lynn and the night-eyed girl clashed like opposites. I stood there absolutely confused as the two gave each other death stares. It looked as if it was about to get violent. I grabbed Marie-Lynn's arm and started pulling her away. I said something about having to get somewhere to the night-eyed girl as we left. Once a good distance away, Marie-Lynn shook her arm free and turned into me. Her arms wrapped around me fearfully and she sobbed on my shoulder. I asked her what that was about. She pulled away and met my eyes with hers. Then she told me who the night-eyed girl really was. "She's the girl from my dream..." 

I suppose you could say that I already knew this, but that was an idle fear at first. I comforted Marie-Lynn and brought her to a quiet place where we could be alone. Eventually her tears stopped. I felt guilty for some reason. I asked her why she wanted to leave town in a bad attempt to make her think about something else. Just as my luck would have it, she wanted to leave town because of the night-eyed girl. I was shocked, but after that meeting, it seemed understandable. The two were at odds and there was no denying that. Later that night, I found myself stuck in reality, trapped by thoughts of Marie-Lynn and the night-eyed girl. I thought perhaps I could talk to Mili, the night-eyed girl, and try to resolve the invisible conflict. Of course, I had never truly spoken to her before. Mild pleasantries had been exchanged, but purely due to her own politeness and my nervous attraction. Things had changed, however. She would associate me with Marie-Lynn, disrupting the neutrality I may have had. 

With that in mind, I dared approach her, for my love for the flame-haired girl gave me a childish courage. Mili turned to leave before I could speak, but I stopped her and spoke my piece. I begged that she leave Marie-Lynn alone and assured that she would return the favor. My requests and offers fell on dead ears. I was pushed to the side as Mili's boyfriend walked up to her. His timing seemed perfect for her, for we knew I could not ask anything while he was near. I had not known him before that day and only knew who he was when his lips met hers. A primal 'zilia', if you will, washed through me. It turned me green and corrupted. I suddenly wanted her all to myself. My mind became foggy and utterly distracted. Her boyfriend was short but built. He had well cut blond hair and carried himself with the perfect amount of confidence. Was I truly jealous that she was his, or was it a twisted envy? The politeness I once knew her so well for was mirrored in his words and tone as he questioned what had been happening before he appeared. As obvious as it was, I lied and fled from the man. I tried not to look over my shoulder, but I could not resist. The two had already left. Was I that unimportant to her?

Later that day, I reported my failure to Marie-Lynn. I left out the details about my jealousy, or envy. We agreed to leave town in a week if nothing improved. But that night I entered another's dream world. Perhaps she was unaware of her dream-state, for she did not seem to notice the strangeness of the dream. I, on the other hand, noticed with great familiarity. It was Mili's dream world and her boyfriend, whose name was Robert, was also there. He was completely unaware. My envy of him had been absent that night, for I was in my element. However, due to the fact that it was not my dream, I could not alter it in the slightest. It was merely a strange rendition of reality. I stood opposite from the couple. Our eyes were filled with a secret longing, along with a false aggression.

"Look," Rob began saying. He was silenced before he could continue. I was not sure if I appreciated the silencing or not. We stood there in silence for a dog's age. But then the world started changing. Mili would not remember this part, I reckoned. I took the chance to speak with her subconscious. 

"Why Marie-Lynn?" The sky began spinning. It turned black with white streaks in it. It was hypnotizing and I looked away. The ground was becoming an asphalt road. The yellow line appeared between my feet. I was running out of time.

"The innocent cannot survive much longer."

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I have recently been lacking the sleep that our narrator above never missed. Of course, this is entirely my fault and due to a backwards sleeping schedule. Perhaps it is only backwards because I am trying to correct it. Anyhow, I felt that I am obliged to inform you that I am once again doing Camp NaNoWriMo. Throughout August, I will be writing a new novel that I recently had the inspiration for. The novel goes by the name of "The Knife In Admeta's Back."

The novel idea came to me when I was thinking about a novel I started back at the end of 2009, and the beginning of 2010. It was called "Admeta" and never really got written. For the small part that was written, I described it as a modern day Romeo and Juliet. It was quite cliche if you ask me. I would have gone with that initial idea, but something else came to me. A murder mystery may be more interesting to write. I have yet to write anything longer than a thousand words that would be a part of the mystery genre. Therefore, I found it quite fitting to write a full fifty thousand word novel in a month as a way to try out the genre.

Perhaps I ought to introduce a character or two. The story follows Innocenzio Dell'Aera, a nineteen year old boy, and his ex-girlfriend Admeta Oinek. Obviously it is a tale of betrayal and death, but that will be left to later. Innocenzio, or Inno, is a high school graduate that works for a high-brand knife company, called Slice Mo' (Slice More). He is of Italian decent, in case that isn't completely obvious. I am quite tempted to begin talking about the story; however, I will refrain from doing so for the reason that I wish to keep the surprise alive.

I thank you for reading this and wish you a good day. Until next time,

-Zero

Link to Camp NaNoWriMo Website: http://campnanowrimo.org/

Wanderer's Journal #21

      Fear is an interesting concept. Why should one be afraid of anything? What makes one afraid? At this point I do believe that fear originates with death. Humans are naturally afraid of their end. Most other rational fears derive off that single idea of the end. It's all meant to allow us to avoid death, that final finish line. Some people seem naturally predetermined to win the race, while others walk as slowly as they can. Sometimes people are forced across the finish line by others. Marie-Lynn was one of the people to be forced across. Of course, it was by me, but she was forced across nonetheless.

      But I will return to that at a later date. Marie-Lynn desperately wanted to run away. From what, I did not know, but I assumed it was nothing. I told her to wait until morning. Of course, that night we entered my world out of sheer luck. Another year in my world with Marie-Lynn was well welcomed. I remember how little control I exercised over it. It was as if I had forgotten that it was my world. Even Marie-Lynn seemed to notice this. She did not mention it for a month or two in my world, but once the third month came along, she could not hold it back anymore. Her voice quickly escalated in volume. She screamed and shouted at me in an attempt to make me remember where I was. She tried to help me recall that I was not trapped in reality. Finally, I had enough of her screaming. I split the ground between us in annoyance. She quieted down immediately and smiled at me. My eyes couldn't believe what I witnessed. That was when I came to realize that it was still my world. Excitement flowed through me. The sun broke apart and became four big flaming orbs in the sky. They quickly found their ways to the four points of a compass. The ground beneath my feet shook as I pulled the two parts back together. Marie-Lynn was absolutely thrilled. She welcomed me home.

      That was when I realized that despite my many years in my own world, I was still young and foolish. Only time spent in the real world could change that. But that year in my world was surprisingly fulfilling. I had Marie-Lynn there with me. She thoroughly enjoyed her time back. We climbed mountains like we used to. Reality was forgotten. The fear she had was lost among the purple trees. Purple was her favorite color. The trees were more or less a gift to her. Their leaves were orange, my favorite color. The grass was a bright blue and a large yellow sun covered the red sky. We spent many days in those strangely colored woods, but one day we decided to build a home together. The trees chopped themselves down and piled themselves. A hole appeared in the ground and filled itself with nails and screws for our purple wood house. First we built the frame. I lifted and placed the wood and Marie-Lynn would swiftly hammer it into place. Roots extended from the four corner pieces and dug into the ground, solidifying the structure. Then we made planks with the trees left over. They became a nice pale purple. We used them to build the walls, the ceiling and the floor. We found that there was too much of the same material, so we put dry wall up and painted it a pure white. Our house was almost done and at this point we were only a month away from waking up. She didn't notice the end of our ignorant bliss coming. I did, but kept quiet. The forest regrew as we put in the dark brown door with a knocker on it that had her last name written on it. Her last name was Dusk. I find it fitting as she saw the fall of man, our own dusk.

      The last days of that year were spent with fireworks and other various celebrations. When we reentered reality, it seemed so alien. I hadn't experienced that feeling in a long time. Not since I met Marie-Lynn at least. She forgot completely about running away together. I was relieved for the question was too pressuring for me. Of course, we would come to regret forgetting about it. That day in reality following the wonderful year we spent together was an interesting one indeed. Marie-Lynn and I were taking a leisurely stroll in the sunlight when we bumped into someone I had not expected to run into. Nor did I expect for her to know Marie-Lynn. It was the night-eyed girl.

-Zero

The Dreams That Cause Insanity

It was strange, the way she looked at me. I never quite understood what it meant. I only ever got to know that it had a deeper meaning than I could ever come to understand. Her name was Laura. She was blond-haired and unattractive. She was the one girl that no guy ever noticed. All the girls noticed her though. They constantly talked about how creepy she was. Maybe it was for good reason.

They say some people are controlled by their dreams; I think she was one of them. It seemed like everything she did resolved around something that she saw in one of her 'visions'. It was madness. I heard that she would follow a guy around just because she saw them in a dream of hers. If nothing interesting happened, she would forget about the dream and move on. Too bad it wasn't that simple when the dream recurred.

She became obsessed, driven mad by the images in her head. I wish someone could have freed her, but there seemed to be no cure for her curse besides death. In case you haven't figured it out by now, I was the guy she became most obsessed with. My name is Isaac and this is the story of a misunderstood stalker.

It all started the night of the first new moon of the year. At least, that's when she told me it started. The first dream about me gave itself to her and even now I remember how she described it. “It's creepy, I know, but this insanity has become something I'm almost used to.” She told me shortly after I noticed that she was following me. Apparently, I was the first to notice. I bet I was just the first to say something.

We both shrugged it off and I didn't think that it would last very long. She even told me that she tended to only follow a guy for one day. Maybe she jinxed it because that night she dreamt of me again. This time, she followed from a safer distance, but I noticed her anyways. She didn't bother to lie to me and just told me the truth. “The insanity is worsening.” I shrugged it off and asked her why she would dream about me. She walked off without giving me an answer.

It was the night of the second day that I had a dream myself of her. It was terrifying, absolutely terrifying. There was darkness all around me and I could feel the brushing of something against my back. It was sharp, yet dull. The taste of rotting meat filled my mouth and the smell of death overwhelmed me. Something was seriously wrong. I knew it. In the darkness, feet shuffled towards me at a rapid pace. Laura's face came into view and out of shock, I started to run away. All of a sudden, she was ahead of me. A scream pierced my ears and crimson blood covered my hands and flowed from my chest. I tried to stop it, but I couldn't; I had become a crimson river. Soon, I found myself looking towards where I had just stood. Laura's twisted smile was all I could see. I looked down. I was pierced with swords that were dripping with an oozing blood. Then I woke up. I kept the dream a secret from her, afraid of what it might have meant. I think now I understand. It was weird though; she never showed up for school that day. It worried me.

Laura came to school the next day and asked me how I slept. I lied and said “great!” The truth is that I didn't sleep at all since I had that dream. I guess that's understandable though. “Are you still dreaming about me?”

She nodded her head and winked at me. “How could I stop? You're just so perfect,” her tone began to change into something twisted, “so delicious...” I took a cautious step back. I was worried about my own safety. After all, she did describe it as an insanity. Her eyes were filled with what looked like twisted thoughts and haunting ideas. I slowly crept back, but she followed me and started speaking again. “I even wrote you a poem!”

“Uhh... Cool?” I replied with a bad poker face. “I, uhh, have to get to class. Uhh, my prof is going to kill me if I'm late again. Maybe I can hear it later?” I lied through my teeth and turned to run away. That girl terrified me. I nearly tripped over my own feet when her obsessed voice followed me down the hall.

“Oh, you will hear it later.” She told me as I escaped to class. I entered the room and sat down in my seat. The bland rectangular room never seemed so welcoming. Even the teacher, who always seemed to be angry and tired, actually seemed to be in a good mood. I was five minutes early for class and she gave me a surprised look when she noticed me waiting for it to begin. She made small talk. I mostly wasn't paying attention. I was too focused on that stalker girl. Maybe if she was more attractive, I might have given her a chance. But I couldn't be seen dating a girl like that. No one would ever take me seriously. It didn't help that she was renowned for being a creep. She seemed nice enough at first, but I began to think that it was how she drew guys into her little trap. Maybe I wasn't actually the first one.

The bell rang and class was dismissed. I rolled my shoulders and stretched as I stood up. When I looked back down, I saw Laura standing in front of me with a twisted smile on her face. I nearly had a heart attack at seventeen. She held up a piece of paper and started reading it. “Tick tock, goes the clock. When the sun goes down, you'll be mine. Tick tock, here's a shock. You're so perfect, we should preserve you. Tick tock, I have a lock. You won't be escaping, so enjoy your stay.” She looked back up me and waited for approval.

I tried to hide my disgusted and scared expression behind a fake smile. “That's pretty good.” I lied. “But it could use some more rhymes in there. I felt like it was missing some here and there.” I counterfeited a critique. I honestly hoped that she would have left that poem alone.

She shook her head somewhat jokingly. I was ready to run. I thought she was about to snap any second. I had heard about stalkers and what happened when they finally snapped. “No, silly! I like it better this way. I feel that it's more truthful this way.” I went to step back, but tripped over my chair. I hit my head on the desk behind mine as I fell. The force of the blow caused a concussion and knocked me out, I think. I don't remember what happened after that.

When I woke up, I immediately thought that Laura had been planning it all along. Of course, it was nothing like that. I was in a hospital bed. I told that I had been rushed there because I was unresponsive after hitting my head. Laura was sitting next to my bed and was reading a book. I quickly read the title. It read 'Controlling the Darkness Within'. I gulped loudly, accidentally drawing her attention. She put down the book and ran to my side.

“Isaac! Are you alright?” She exclaimed in a worried tone. I was assured that it was faked. I was convinced that she was after me. She grabbed my hand, but I shook it free.

“I'm fine.” I told her as I sat up. I made sure to use my hands as I did so. “Why are you here?” I questioned her. I tried not to sound suspicious, but I think she might have seen through my fake smile because she sighed heavily and sat back down.

“Just making sure that you're okay. I kind of feel like it's my fault you hit your head so hard.” She said apologetically. Once again, I was suspicious of her authenticity. I thought back to my dream about her and took it as a prediction of the future. My fear overtook me.

“Get away from me!” I yelled at her before trying to get up. I stumbled out of bed. She rushed to my side but I pushed her away. I looked her right in the eyes. “If it wasn't for your fucked up poem about me, we wouldn't be here right now. If you weren't such a freak, you would have friends!” My voice was cold and harsh. Tears filled her eyes. I didn't feel pity, just rage. She shook her head at me disbelievingly.

“I never even showed you the poem I wrote! I don't know what you're talking about!” Laura cried out before she ran out of the room with tears going down her cheeks. I sighed and sat back down on my bed. I noticed her book from across the room. I picked it up and saw that it was just a novel, not a self-help book like I had thought. I flipped it open and noticed a note scribbled in on the back of the cover.

I slowly read the note out loud. “You are the sun in the sky, the strength in the earth, the fire's beautiful eye, and the water of birth. Isaac, oh Isaac, I wish I never met you.” A realization slowly crept over me. That was the poem that she wrote about me. But if that was the poem, what was the other one?

“What are you doing?” Laura's miserable and misunderstood voice asked me from the doorway. I spun around and faced her, still holding the open book. She quickly rushed over and snatched it out of my hands. “You weren't supposed to read that!” She went to run back out of the room, but I grabbed her by the arm.

“Why do you wish you never met me?” I questioned her about the last line of the poem. She looked away as if she was ashamed. She tried to shake free and I let her. I thought she was going to run but instead she took a deep breath.

“Because I've burdened you with me.” She said quietly and then it was done.

-Zero

A Fear Greater Than Death (poem)

I see you, broken man.
Hold your head high all you please,
But the stars will not come closer.

From the bottom of a deep pit,
Only the hope of escape is possible.

I watch you, broken man.

Perhaps you are worthy of my pity,
But I will not forget your choice.
From your broken and desecrated corpse,
Only maggots will be born.

I fear you, broken man.
Becoming you is what I truly fear,
But you are the gateway to it.

From the boundless earth to the endless skies,
Only courage will save me.

I hate you, broken man.

The mirror in front of me shows me you,

But I cannot accept that it is me.
From the deepest reaches of my heart,
Only I can see the illusion.

And this is where I break free from the curse,
The endless and pointless cycle.
The mirror shatters before me,
Broken from the force in my fist.
My courage sweeps away the shards,
And dispel the illusion.

I know you, broken man.

But you are not me,
And I am not you.
For I will not fall;

I will stay strong.

For this fear is greater than death,
A fear of a death without relief,
The death of that which is unreal.

-Zero

Trapped in the Closed Box

     "What are you doing?" A female screams.

     "Don't worry; I know what I'm doing!" He reassures her as he pulls a long knife from his jacket. She steps back in fear, only to back up into a wall. She looks about for a way to escape. He moves closer to her. She goes to hit him, but her hands are bound behind her back, rendering her defenseless. He moves closer to her and holds the knife up. He jumps at her, knowing that she would move too much. He grabs her and holds her still. He brings the sharp knife closer and closer to her body. He moves the blade over to her backside. She turns her head in a desperate attempt to see what he is doing. 

     "No, please! Don't! You need me to get out of here!" She pleads to the man, referring to the closed box that they remain trapped inside of. He shakes his head at her. She misunderstands his intentions. Funny, considering their literal location, you would think that she would understand him much better. He cuts the rope binding her arms that he initially tied. She bursts away from him and watches him carefully from the other side of the box. 

      "Are you going to listen to me now?" He asks her, putting the knife away. She calms down a little and slowly nods her head. He looks himself over. All he sees is a battered and broken man. All he sees is a shadow of his former self. He moves his gaze onto her. He observes her carefully. Her appearance is just as battered as his own, but different somehow. She carries a strong feminine air around her, despite the restraints her male counterpart had placed on her. "We can both get out of here if we work together." He looks up at the cardboard ceiling.

     "I've been telling you that all along! Ever since you threw me down here!" She motions to the hole in between the two cardboard pieces that make up the ceiling. "All we have to do is open the box and get out, but no, you wanted to stay in here, saying something about liking it better in here! And that was years ago too! You weren't all that old! Why would you ever do that?" She screams angrily at him.

     "Look, I know I haven't been the best host in the world, but everyone else pushed me in here and closed the lid. It's not my fault!" He defends himself from his female counterpart. "I was just a kid. I didn't know what I was doing."

     "So what's so different now?" She questions him. Her voice is filled with a righteous anger. "You've been trapped in here for a long time, what's changed?" He points toward the hole in the ceiling. 

    "Someone is trying to get me out of here. I want out. I'm tired of the same old routine." He tells her. Her anger diminishes a little. She becomes more open to helping the man escape from the closed box, but only on the condition that he brings his female counterpart with him. Otherwise, there is no point in escaping. 

    "Fine. We'll escape." She moves toward the right wall, where the beginning of one closed flap is attached. "Boost me up." She orders him. "I'll push it open and then we'll do the other side." He nods at her and comes closer. He grabs her foot and picks her up. She reaches for the flap and manages to push it open. "Done. Other side." 

     They move over to the opposite side of the box and do the same. "Now what?" The man asks her. She looks down at him from her elevated position and smiles cruelly at him. She then grabs the side and pulls herself up. She gently balances on the wall of the box.

    "Well now I leave you here." She says in an attempt to break their contract. She looks about on the other side of the box and sees an entire world waiting for her. She remembers the man and has a change of heart, sort of. "I'll wait for you on the other side of the wall."

     "How am I supposed to get over?" He protests as if it's impossible. She shrugs at him.

     "Think outside of the box." She tells him as she jumps down and lands on the outside of the box. He is confused and wanders around as he tries to figure out what she meant. He eventually begins to remember what he saw when he could see over the walls. The world he remembers is a world of possibilities, where the impossible is always possible. Pigs fly and cats dance. The sun sometimes never sets and occasionally has tea with the moon. The man can't make sense of any of it, yet feels comfort in the strangeness of it all. It reminds him of his childhood after all. 

    He begins to plan his escape. He looks around the empty cardboard box. He pulls out his long knife and throws it at the wall. It goes through and creates a hole, allowing him to peek through. He sees the world he remembers and knows that he has to go there, despite what the others tell him. "What destroys cardboard?" He asks himself. The answer he gets from himself is something that every person is familiar with. "Water!" He searches the box to find no water. He sits down in defeat. "It's impossible." He mutters and then lies down. With the box open, the strange sky of the world can be seen. The moon and the sun are having tea together. He remembers that nothing is impossible in this world. He dusts off a hose that seems to have just randomly appeared. He points it at the walls of the box and water comes rushing from the hose. The water soaks the wall, weakening it. He drops the hose and it mysteriously disappears. He then runs at the weakened spot in the cardboard. He bursts through it victoriously and escapes the box. His female counterpart awaits him outside and catches him.

     "Good job. I was hoping you would understand. Welcome to your imagination."

-Zero