Beast.

Hey folks! This is a snippet of a story I've had going for some time. Hope you enjoy!

SIZZLE. CRASH.

I wake up to the sound of debris falling from some where. Everything smells like smoke and the carpet in front of me is charred to dust. Looking up,  the roof is on the verge of collapsing inward from a large puncture right above where the coffee table had been.

“Caleb?” a sandy sounding croak…

“Jade, are you okay?” I sound fine. My face and neck stings; my shirt is scorched. Then I blink in the dusty air, where’s Malcolm? The middle of the room is obliterated and there’s only a eight foot wide, one foot deep depression left.

“No… I think it’s my ankle... Where’s Mal?” Jade’s voice comes from near the entrance of the room; where the enormous framed tapestry had hung.

“I don’t know. I’ll look” I get up, balancing shortly on one knee; despite the dust in my eyes, I still see stars of dizziness. My heart sinks fast, the furniture that had sat in the middle of the room, the books, the coffee table, the couch, were nowhere to be seen. My trunk wasn’t there anymore either.

“Is he there?”

“No”

The finality of the actual words sting in my throat, but that’s what they are now, fatally so.

I help Jade up, only to carry her to the unscathed kitchen, her left ankle is totally twisted and awkward, toes are already turning purple. Probably completely fractured; that tapestry had to be at least twenty pounds, never mind the frame. Well that would definitely hurt.

“AH…” Jade sighs when I put her gently but without ceremony on the cleared kitchen table.

“Do you think he could be,” Jade stops, puts a hand to her throat and then points out the kitchen window.

“What?” I ask, and then I inhale sharply at the sight I behold when I turn.

“It’s still here.”

The dragon is poised in a regal stance; claws viciously sharp. You can see them all the way back here, at the house. The bright yellow amber eyes glint in the dawn, surrounded by blacker than night scales. Suddenly all I can think of is Malcolm. I surprise myself.

“Jade. You don’t think he took Malcolm, do you?”

“What?” Jade gasps, forgetting, it seems, about her pain. “And, who says it’s a he. It’s beautiful.”

“I mean, the roof... it's not disintegrated.” I start, breaking the reverent phrase still hanging in the air.

"If it wanted to finish him it would've burned this place to the ground!"

Jade shakes her curly head and then says,

“Caleb Sanders you’re the craziest Dragonologist ever! If you're seriously implying that that beast is interested in preserving us, you're mad. Let's find Malcolm."

We’re both quiet after that. The dragon outside shifts from claw to claw… Then it lifts its mighty head, opens its powerful jaws and belts out a column of flame that falls, like an ignited snake to the parched ground. The next second, the beast is gone. 

Inkling

Playing around with eyeliner and photo booth- I apologize for the terrible quality!

-dh-

Thanks/New Years

        Sorry about this outlandishly delayed post! I just recently watched Baz Lurhman's The Great Gatsby and its complete special features. Finally, inspiration! No plagiarism or stealing of ideas was meant if there is any of that in this post. I simply decided to write and this is what came out...

         Any party that I've ever attended has not been of my own volunteering. Every time I go out I make myself a fool or worse, embarrass someone else. I was not altogether thrilled when my nosey mother in-law phoned me halfway through dinner to urge me to attend a complete stranger's New Year's party. The year up to this cold night had been less than exciting for this cubicle dweller. 

Still, I protested. 

         The car was in the shop, it was alright she was on her way already, she could pick me up; I had nothing to wear, that was fine, she promised to help me when she got there. Nothing I said made a difference. It is in these circumstances that I find myself disgusted at my own being and wish that it wasn't so impossible to simply go and be with people. Besides, she whined, it was the start of a New Year which by the sound of it, was like a renewing of her commitment to get me 'socialized'. I had to cave. Just this once. 

The ride was pitiful. I squirmed in the stiff outline of the suit she'd brought me from Eric's extensive collection. Eric, my brother in-law and much more outgoing friend was always attending dinners and fancy meetings. He had an enormous drawer filled with strictly individual style ties and stuffy old bow-ties that confounded me to no end.  I swallowed and tried not to think of it. The car was making me feel giddy and nervous, as if my in-law's chatter about my host wasn't enough to put me on the edge. 

"He's famously rich you know," I cut in. 

"Listen, Dana…"

"-Great eye for things like decor and wonderful taste in wine…" I gave up and automatically tuned her out- thinking of nothing but the lead-like mashed potatoes that sat at the very bottom of my stomach. I rolled down my window, feeling ill at ease and woeful. Parties would be the death of me. 

"Now, we're coming up to the house now- don't forget to say hello and thank you, etcetera…." 

"Of course." I reassured her huge bushy red hair, I couldn't see her profile clearly because of it. 

"You know Jared, you worry me sometimes. You forget to have a good time."

"Thank you for your concern… I suppose" I mumbled.

"Come on now, before the sun comes up…" 

We struggled out of the car, I, feeling somewhat like a swimmer who's come up for air. The night was chilly and invisible ice crunched under my fancy, also borrowed, and devilishly cold shoes. The house was magnificent. Covered in multicolored lights the flat surfaced house stood tall and lumbering like a wave that might crash onto your head at any moment. The trim along the twelve windows looked like candy frosting and the double doors were painted electric blue. 

"Welcome, Mr. and Mrs.?" A man at the door wearing a tall party hat with 1982 wilting off the foam. 

"Keebler, we're not a couple." My mother in-law scooted past the man and I looked him up and down before remembering to say, 

"Thanks."

P.S The Great Gatsby really is a phenomenal piece of artwork, it is out on DVD and Blueray now. I highly recommend it!

Westwood.

Rain pelted the station's windows. The glass on the walls were filthy, I realized,  now that the rain drops plowing across the sparkling exterior highlighted the dirt. Small handprints and unknown smudges polluted the image to the outside. As I was staring quite aimlessly out of the station window a large, ungainly man came into focus beyond the rain spattered pane. He waved frantically at me and I felt my heart sink. He was unfamiliar, he was out of breath and seemed in a rush and he was most importantly waving a small white envelope. 

He was a man with a case, and no detective. 

A man with money and a case. I felt a tad bit happier and rose to greet him as he came sputtering into the station. 

"Bad spot of rain to be out in sir," I said in an effort to be kind, helping him out of his great coat. There was no tag- it was handmade, custom and very well taken care of by the way the water ran right off of the collar. 

"I know," he replied, disgruntled and wobbling with suppressed annoyance. As I got a chance to look him over I saw that his many chins were illustriously decorated with a necktie from Westwood and a series of expensive pins lined his lapel. One was obviously military but the rest were undefinable to me. 

"Do you happen to be the detective I was directed to find at platform eight?"

I was about to respond by stating the obvious but I decided against it and responded simply,

"Yes. I see you are in some trouble then..."

"I am in a vast amount of trouble. As you can see, I am not at my best but there is plenty of reason for that, as you will know. Come, let's get a cuppa somewhere and have a chat, shall we?" He seemed intelligent enough and although I knew he was marvelously rich, I didn't doubt that he had a good heart. 

P.S Sorry for the weird outline on this text, I couldn't remove it for some reason. Next post will be normal!

Asa.

This is a scene from a recent story I'm exploring. I felt like it created a mood so it's officially part of my description/setting experiment now. Enjoy!

...I decided in a second that no one could know Asa had been here. It was strange enough having my friend over when he was awkwardly invited. I had to hide him but how I was going to do that between the three seconds flat it took Maggie to thump downstairs, and ask grumpily what was for breakfast, was an impossible magic trick. I gave up.  Right on cue with my thought train, my little sister came downstairs, black hair an absolute mess and still clumsy with sleep; As soon as she saw Asa’s imposing frame leaning against the sink, she bolted straight back up stairs. She was gone so fast I could practically still see her when I blinked.

“She’s so annoying.” I said suddenly.

“It’s alright.”

“No, it’s weird. My little sister having a crush on anyone is fine but not you. She’s weird.”

“Whatever man. I guess I'll get outa your hair- I just came to tell you Heather was away. Oh, and also, that I got a text from my mom.”

I felt my jaw drop.

“Your mom?”

“Mhm.”

“When, exactly?”

“Around three A.M last night. Well, technically this mor-”

“What’d she say?”

Asa frowned because I had cut him off and took out his lighter again.

“She said she needed money. Fast.” Lighter on. He avoided looking at anything within a two foot radius of my body.

“Annnd are you gonna ask her where she is?” Lighter off. On again.

“Maybe.” Asa seemed insecure- undecided.

“She seemed scared. Very shorthand, very cryptic. Not that I’m used to her texting me all the time or something but…you know.” Asa gave me a long, hard look. I swallowed some cereal and found I wasn’t actually hungry anymore.

“What’s she doing texting you? She hasn’t seen you since-”

“Stop!” Asa’s eyes bulged slightly. He grabbed his glass out of the sink again and filled it.

“Let’s go to the park,” I said quietly, “We won’t have to worry about Maggie hearing anything there.” Asa dipped his head in agreement, swallowed, and dumped the glass out. 

--dh

Boy/Boxes

He guys! Long time no see. Sorry, I've been busy. 

Here's another section for my 'atmosphere' experiment. Once again, this was originally a song story piece, a story inspired by music, in this particular case the song What's A Boy to Do by Matt Kearney- all lyrics are his if I directly quoted any and this is meant purely as a literary experiment. This one is a bit different than the last one I think I posted, the song itself follows the story of a young man through the major mile stones of his life but I didn't write all of them. These are primarily the first three mentioned in the song, correct me if I'm wrong, this is something from the archives! I hope you enjoy!

 Boxes were stacked everywhere. Most of them were only half filled with trash and trinkets that didn't mean quite enough to be kept through a move. But they were all coming along, the furniture was draped with white sheets and dust. There were only two pieces covered in bubble wrap to be loaded into a truck and taken along.

Before the big white truck came to cart everything away, a boy walked into the open house. He was tall for his seven years, dark haired and his intense blue eyes scanned house with a mixture of sorrow and rebelling anger.

“Alex! Alex, come here.” A woman crashed through the house holding a paper in her hand and a cell phone in the other.

“Here, honey, now let me explain...”

The boy, Alex, resisted her tender touch.

“No- mom, I get it. You couldn't pay again, it's fine.”

“Alex?” His mother looked confused.

“Where's my bag?”

“In the closet, as usual. I'm really sorry.”

“I told you, it's okay.”

Alex dragged his feet to the little closet at the back of the house. He opened the creaky door to discover a grungy backpack filled with practical joke trinkets, a few pocket knives, some school books he wasn't supposed to have.

Alex looked over everything and kicked the backpack over, letting the insides spill out and make a mess on the closet floor.

“Alex! He's here, c'mon, we've got to go!”

“'K mom!” Seizing the pocket knives, the boy rushed out of the door and tumbled into the white van with his mother. Their life was packed up and ready to go. The van was their one way ticket, bound for Saint Louis...

The school yard was nearly empty. Only Rags and his gang hung around, unawares of Alex crouched in the shadows of the garbage bins. Rags yelled about something. Alex looked down, a rough piece of rubble took up the palm of his rough hand. The gang shifted around, Alex knew they would start playing their game soon. Rags would take out a gun, the gang would inspect it and voice their approval. Rags would tuck the weapon away and they'd leave. Alex looked around cautiously before he boldly stuck his head around the dumpster and aimed.

The rock skittered across the pavement after striking Hands on the wrist. He howled with rage. Rags' hand was up in a split second, gun cradled between his thumb and pointer finger, cocked and loaded. Alex knew though, Rags didn't have money for more than one or two shots. Bullets weren't cheap if the teenager could've even found a dealer. The yard echoed with the rock's reverberating contact with the stone. Rags relaxed and put the gun to rest as well.

The gang left swiftly and Alex was left alone in the yard, idly holding his old pocket knife which was hinged open and tucked into his sleeve. He pulled it out and put it away. He left, kicking rocks in front of him in a dispirited manner. Time to go home.

“Hey Alex, coming over tonight? We're having a little extra celebration for Selena's promotion too. What'd you say?”

“No, I'm busy.” Alex said reluctantly, taking a swig at the glass in his hand. He was dressed up. He hadn't dressed up since middle school, for the orchestra concert. He grimaced at the thought, remembering his mother fussing over his hair beforehand. His mother had loved fussing. He downed the last half of his drink and put it harshly down on the bar. He left the club, eyes stinging with buzzy tears.

Paper Cut.

The silence roared in her ears, making it difficult to concentrate, as if she hadn’t even been trying to before. Throwing her pencil down she frowned and shut her text book with a satisfying slam!

                “Casey…” Her mother’s warning floated up the stairs, making her eardrums pound with impatience.

                “Alright mom, I get it!” She called back, the irritability swirling through her thoughts increased to point of anger and petty, irrational explosions. She glanced at her clock and felt a surge of furry sweep through her, it was already 8:30 and she wasn’t nearly half done with her work. Cursing quietly she rubbed her temples, gathering up all of her last reserves of faith, and plunged her nose back into ‘Advanced Math with Physics’. 

Two hours later, she awoke with her face hurting. There was a stinging paper cut along her cheek from lying on top of the rim of her textbook. Wincing as she felt the small rivet she rushed to the bathroom, cupping her hands under her chin to catch the droplet of blood that oozed off her face.

                “Did you do that on purpose?” A small voice made Casey’s head snap suddenly around to the bathtub behind her.

                “Oh, Jordan, it’s you. Why are you still up so late?” Casey recalled the time before she’d ran to the restroom, 10:34.

                “I couldn’t sleep, or try to anyway…” The little boy’s big eyes were somber with pain, his hands knotted and unknotted themselves in anxiety. Casey eyed the plastic tube that spiraled to his nose from the grey case on the bathroom tiles.

                “Its alright...” Casey tried to sound sympathetic, but she found it hard to when she was still burning with the hatred she’d come to know towards her toughest subject.

                “You didn’t answer me. Did you cut yourself?” Jordan’s face was so earnest Casey felt compelled to tell him the truth right away, instead of estranging herself behind a veil of unfriendly mystery.

                “No… No Jordan, I wouldn’t do that…” She sat next to him and as she held his head to her troubled heart, wondered if what she said was true.

                “Okay, I was just worried about you that’s all…” Jordan heaved shaky sigh and then snuggled closer to his big sister, feeling safe and warm just before he dropped off into a fitful sleep…