Behind the Shadow (for 5.2.12)

They came and went like lightning, leaving a shadow of destruction behind. They came with waves of fire and weapons, burning, pillaging, slaying. Now the walls of once majestic buildings are crumbled; and only the skeletons of the huts remain. Crows feast on the bodies strewn around the dark remains of the village.

A red light burns on the mountain. On that mountain they are rejoicing. On that mountain they are celebrating another village vanquished. On that mountain they feast. Their sickening joy fills my bones with rage, and turns my blood to fire and I realize…

I’m all that’s left.

Tomorrow's Shadow

I’m afraid of ghosts.  Not ghosts from my past.  No.  Ghosts from my future.  The specter of things that may or may not be.  The wisping shadows that call to me from down the road.  The shimmering mists who hold out their arms, inviting me to join them, to partake of their story and splendor.

I used to cherish these ideas, the happy plans of my many tomorrows, full of cheerful sunshine.  Now, they frighten me.  The darkness has set in and the moon illuminates them for what they really are.  The future ghosts.  They are calling me. 

I’m terrified. 

Cyanide

Words pour from her mouth like water, like poison. They wash around me, killing me slowly. It’s built up so gently, I didn’t even notice. Can’t handle it any longer, I’m half alive. Half dead. She’ll miss me, wonder where I am, if it was her fault. She’ll reassure herself that it isn’t, and I won’t tell her different.
How can you stand it? Watching, hearing, laughing. I tap your head, hear your brain rattle around inside. You can’t run away, not with me. Too trapped up in this web, you’ll never live.
You will never make it out alive.

I See - by Christan Tracy - Day 2

[Note: This was written by my little sister]

            I see the horses in the pasture. I see the cows in the barn. I see the chickens in the hut. I see the dogs on the porch. I see the birds in the sky. I see the corn in the fields. I see the laundry on the clothesline. I see the hay on the tractor. I see the leaves in the wind. I see the ants working busily for winter. I see the deer coming out for a graze. I see the fruit on the fruit trees. And then I thank God for His wonderful world he gave us.  

Vision Fading

His whole world— destroyed. 

“Don’t you know I love you?”  she had asked with a smile. 

He had just grunted that morning, not awake as he readied for work. 

“See you tonight! Be home on time!” she had called. 

He blinked, not sure if the wet on his cheeks were tears or rain. 

Hearing the deep rolling of wheels, he jerked out of the way of a group of skateboarders.

With a tremendous smash, his body collided with a car and he limply rolled to the black tar. Vision fading, he saw her beautiful face. His eyes closed in death.  

{little helperes} 5.2.12

Saturday I dragged myself out of bed at the scandalous hour of 7 o'clock. I dragged myself to the shower. I dragged myself to work. The beginning of the day was crazy-breakfast rush, but later the afternoon was relatively quiet. Then, towards the middle of my shift, as I washed the front (glass) door I noticed a young family coming toward me. I opened the door for them and as one of the young boys passed through he very eagerly asked me, “Would you like some imaginary reindeer to help you with your job?”  

“I would love some!”

Project Backfire

A knock on the oak door timidly encroached into the quiet, carpeted, and very well-furnished study space of Laurence McGreen. He cleared his throat loudly and said with resounding luster, "Come in."

A human form, short, thin, and dressed in white, walked in carrying a manilla envelope. "Sir?"

"Well, bring it at once!" McGreen's voice grew with his thrill of power. The small figure ventured forward and gave it away.

After some time, Alex spoke up. "Sir, we gave it a name."

"Oh?" McGreen barely looked at Alex.

Alex's eyes were aflame, teeth clenched, tongue forced silent by industry. "Project Backfire."

Mountains - by Christan Tracy - Day 1

[Note: This is by my little sister]

            Mountains float above the ground like birds upon the wind. Mountains are as white as clouds, which drift up in the sky. Mountains are as big as a human to an ant. Mountains are heavier than any human knows. Heavier then any person in the world could lift. Mountains are the work of God that no human can grasp. His work is so almighty, so glorious, it’s more then we could know. The handy work of the LORD has made the world in all its beauty. He has made the stars, the Earth, the sun, the moon, and the heavens.  

The Beginning, May 2

He pushed through the snow, growing more tired with every step. He looked back to see the snake like path he had made vanish in a flurry of snow. So tired, he just wanted to sleep. To rest and just give up. He shivered as another gust chilled him to the bone. Shaking, and pulling the ragged jacket closer around his shoulders, he marched on. On and on he went, the only change in the landscape being different sized snow hills. He fell face first into the snow. What he saw caused an even colder feeling to permeate his being.

5.2.12 Brother

It wasn’t all that long ago, brother, when we promised undying friendship.  I thought that being there for you was all I ever wanted.  To watch you grow up, choose a bride, build a home.  I’d never be too far away, never leave you to walk this road alone. And everything I did was always for your good. All my life I’ve loved you, protected you, fought for you.

Brother, I would have died for you.

But you changed.  So did I.

Now you lie before me with a bullet in your chest. 

The gun still smoking in my hand.

White stone (for 5.1.12)

“The white rocks are my favorite.” She states, as we walk around the side of her house on a “wishing stone” hunt.

“Why’s that?”

“Because they are so pretty and bright once you rinse the dirt off.”

“Yah, I guess the white ones are my favorite, too.”

And as I look at her glowing face I think, “Someday, Sami, you will have another white rock that you will call beautiful, another rock that you can’t help but steal glances at. Someday you will have a diamond ring that shows how much he loves you. Someday, but not for a while.

{a flaming ball of plasma} 5.2.12

The sun rises and falls, its brilliant rays illuminating the earth and warming the ground.Then, quicker than it rose, it falls, and appears on the other side of the planet. Since the beginning of time the sun has risen and fallen, day after day, night after night it hides.

Without the sun the earth would be cold. Without the sun we couldn't see anything. Without the sun, this earth would be black. And cold. I think I’d get awful awful tired if that rested on my shoulders. I also think, if that was my job, I’d probably leave the earth cold and black a lot.  

Ice

 Breath shouldn't be cold. Hers fell like ice shards and the words she spoke stabbed at his heart in an equally frozen form.
        "I just wanted you to remember." One finger, bone cold and thin, touched his ear gently. "When your world is crumbling around you, when those you love begin to die, when they look at you with hate-wide eyes, whisper and scream that they want nothing to do with you, when nothing you love is whole, when you look around and grasp the absolute of the destruction that reigns around you, just remember; this is your fault."

A Running Rebellion

At first, his pace was slow and measured. A woven layer of roots, rocks, and rotting leaves, flowed past his gaze, reminding of the 20, forever corrupted. He searched the horizon, and found the setting sun. His eyes, wet with forming tears, glinted with every movement. His entire frame cried out to be used, so he bolted towards the light, dodging trees, and jumping boulders. He screamed. His arms danced to maintain pristine balance. Every ounce of energy was exhaled into into the world, out of every arm and leg and lung, travelling far and wide into the world unseen.

Judas Body

I couldn’t walk this morning when I woke up. Again.

I put my feet on the floor next to my bed and tried. But the muscles were so tight. And the pain was so severe. My dental hygienist looks at my teeth every six months. Tells me that I grind my teeth at night. Maybe I do. But I mostly grind them when I’m trying to walk. When I’m grabbing at the walls and my desk chair in a desperate attempt to keep moving. As if clenching my molars will give my legs strength.

My body has betrayed me. Again.