MollyxWolf [Unfinished]
When I was young I would imagine that every blink was taking a picture; that I would have hundreds, thousands of pictures waiting for me someday. Today, I believe it would be millions even in my short life span. Millions of beautiful photographs displaying my life in vivid, almost unimaginable colors. Unimaginable especially when the last bit of my life has been filled with whiteness, or at the very best, dim pink nurse scrubs and the light blue bedding that was becoming duller by the day.
As a child I hardly thought of where the pictures were stored. Some inner part of me had to believe it was for my after life. Part of me was always afraid I would forget my life when that time came, and when those fears were at a peak I would blink far too often as though my eyes were irritated, though my parents wouldn’t say anything, even if they noticed. And then, after I was certain I had captured everything around me I’d calm down again, content that those moments were stored away somewhere. They were out of reach, but someday obtainable. That was all I cared about.
Of course, now, I am not sure if I believe in any of that. Though I wish it to be true. There are so many parts of life I wish to have back. So many parts of life I wish I could slip into and away from the smell of disease in the form of machines and medicines and bland food. Did I take pictures of the good food? I’m uncertain if that was ever important enough to me, if I ever realized how wonderful some things were that I now wished were right before me again.
I wondered too about who I had pictures of. Perhaps my parents, young, alive and well. Myself in the same condition, looking in a mirror, beautiful and lively, making faces at myself. Myself a bit older, but not sick, my long hair soft and full, my eyes clear and proud.
I avoid mirrors now, and part of me, in this train of thought, is glad for that. If anything, I don’t want pictures waiting for me that remind me of any of this time. But perhaps that is unavoidable. By now my collection of hospital pictures is getting quite large, I’m sure. Tests and shots, medicine, my health declining as I stare at another handful of hair even while still living at home.
Amongst the dullness and the sorrow, though, there is still one image I love to see. Every day, nearly all day, or as much as he can manage, he sits by my bedside, or lays with me when I persuade to. He’s good at being himself, at hiding sorrow that everyone else I know is terrible at. He hides it so well, when he’s here, I can sometimes get lost in the feeling of his gaze, still looking at me admiringly, as though the cancer didn’t exist and I was still fully alive and beautiful.
And he is the last one I want to see when I close my eyes for the final time, because I know he will be there and I know he will still look at me in that way, and the final image of my life will be one I will not be afraid to look at when the time comes, and one I will love perhaps more than all the rest.
This is a rewrite of something I posted here a while ago… I am going to actually touch this up and probably submit it to dA once I feel it is good enough. I haven’t written and revised or put time into something in a long time. This is Molly and Wolf; in mine and Ev’s roleplay she has cancer (though she recovers, due to various things that this short story does not have, so I guess this is the alternative). I know it’s kind of sad, but hey, I like writing things like this sometimes. And no, I’m not sad in the least. And yeah, I actually did “take pictures” by blinking when I was young. I thought it was a cute idea to incorporate here :)
As it stands, this is not edited at all. I simply wrote it (rather quickly) to get my idea down. I’ll play around with it before spring break is over so I can actually accomplish something for me this break!
100 Theme Challenge #1 Introduction
“I’m going to cheat and make this a quite literal introduction. The 100 theme challenge is something I’ve wanted to do for a long time and FINISH so, here’s to hoping that will happen finally. For one variation, anyway.
So how do I plan to do that? I will write for one theme a day. I will write it all day, though only when I feel like working on it. If this results in one sentence, then that is what it shall be. I hope it will be more than that, however.
They will ALL relate to my characters. This will give me a theme to work with so I’m not bouncing all over the place between reality and fiction. If it’s one thing, then that narrows what I have to work with, which, in this case, would be my characters. Secondly I am doing them in order. This prevents me from wanting to jump around. I will have something I MUST work with for the day.
I will make them silly stories if I must to finish them. Or sad. Or happy. Or completely random where not even I know what I’m doing. Whatever works. I will finish this.” — said Crevan.
And look, already one down! But it doesn’t have my characters… (Oh look, I added quotations and that Crevan said it. It’s the longest time he’s ever spoken!)
A Wolfy Christmas [2012]
This is kinda meh because… well, yeah I haven’t written in forever. But… I had to get at least one holiday story in before the actual holiday is up xD I have another one in the works, but it’s winter themed not Christmas themed so I have some time to work on that yet. Anyways, enjoy~
And this is for Evy. Happy Holidays Evy! And since it is for Evy most of it won’t make sense to anyone else as usual!
Sitting in the middle of a sea of kids and parents and noisy people was the last thing Wolf had in mind for spending his time. But he was there, right in the middle of it all on one of the busiest days of the season. Dressed in a Santa suit, waiting for the gate to open to let the first kid come up and tell him their holiday wishes.
It was all a joke, not to him, but to Natalie and Reina who had set him up to do this task. Natalie was the main cause, bold enough to actually steal his gun to use it against him. They decided it would be fun to see him dressed up as Santa, considering a fake beard was about all he needed. Considering he would do anything for his gun, though, he sat there and dealt with it. He had even been generous enough to at least bring presents for the kids.
Natalie laughed, sitting on the edge of his chair. “Who would have thought, Wolf dressed up as Santa with a hot Mrs. Clause on each side, hm?”
He glanced at her, a bit confused what she was talking about when he realized things were only getting worse. She was wearing, to him, something quite disturbing and completely inappropriate, especially considering the large young audience they had. It was a typical outfit for the set up in regards to the red with the white fluffy trim, but it was certainly nothing he would have allowed for such a scene for children. In all reality it wasn’t too bad – perhaps a bit lenient in regards to decency but his reaction was well worth it. Reina was wearing the same, though she didn’t have her jacket pulled down quite as much. She only smiled while Natalie laughed even more at Wolf’s frown and immediate head turn back away from her. He didn’t even bother looking at Reina, knowing hers was most likely the same.
“Don’t like us, huh? I think we pretty up the scene, especially considering that frown you’ve got going there.”
“I am merely dealing with this ridiculous event you are putting me through.” He said.
“You are supposed to smile. You will definitely make all the kids afraid of you looking like that.”
“That was not a requirement.” He said simply. Natalie remained quiet after that, as the gate had been opened since it was now the right time for the service to be opened. She and Reina both stayed back to just smile at the kids as they came up, letting Wolf take on the rest of it. Which, it turned out he was terrible with.
When the first kid came up and sat on him Wolf merely stared at him, waiting for him to tell him what he wanted and leave.
“Sorry, Santa is apparently not talking today,” Natalie said, stepping in, leaning against the side of the chair. Wolf moved over a little when he felt her touching him, frowning more. “And what do you want?” She asked the kid.
“Well… I’d really like a new iPod.” He said excitedly.
Wolf stared at him more when he said that, unsure what he was even talking about. “Ah, well, I believe this will suit you nicely,” he said, pulling a gift out of the bag to hand to the kid. Really he had just grabbed some things he thought would be suitable for them, regardless of what they asked for. It seemed like it was going to be much easier that way anyway. As the night went on the gifts the kids were asking for didn’t get anymore normal.
“I want a new laptop! My mom gave me a really old one and it doesn’t work very well.” One of the girls said before she was even fully sitting down.
“I am unsure of what you are requesting,” Wolf said, grabbing another present from the bag to hand to her. “I believe this will suit you nicely, however.”
She grinned as she started opening it. It looked like it could be a computer. It was shaped like one. When she opened the box, though, she frowned, pulling the item out of it. It was some dress. Some awful looking dress, she realized as she laid it across herself. “This is stupid.” She said.
“I believe it would suit you much better than the rather indecent attire you are wearing in the present.” He said as he pushed her off his lap.
“You are not a good Santa Clause.” She said, frowning at him. She tossed the dress back at him. “It smells like old people too.”
Natalie laughed. “What did you do, wrap up things from your house?”
“Stores hardly carry decent items any longer.” He said simply.
“So you are giving away your old junk?” Reina laughed. “Those poor other kids that walked off without opening them in front of you. Couldn’t even scold you.”
A littler kid walked up to him next and Reina and Natalie both backed off again, though both of them were still trying to not laugh. The little boy sat down on Wolf’s lap and inspected him. “You aren’t fat. And you aren’t smiling.”
“Indeed, I have little to be happy about at present.” Wolf said.
“But Santa is always happy.”
“Perhaps some may be. What would you like?” He said, growing impatient. There were only a few kids left. And then I can have my gun back and rid myself of this annoyance.
“Well, I’d really like a puppy, but mom says I can’t have one.”
“Ah, I see.” He said, thinking about it for a moment before he turned to grab a present for the boy. It was pretty big, boxed and wrapped as the rest had been. The kid got excited to see he was getting something early, eagerly ripping the wrapping paper off. “It may not be a companion as you requested, but it shall be every bit as useful.”
When the kid pulled the actual object out of the box his mom ran up and took him. “What are you doing? You can’t give him that!” She said angrily even as the kid protested, claiming he wanted it. She hushed him as she left with him.
Natalie was a bit surprised. “Ok, I think we need to leave.” She said, grabbing Wolf’s arm to drag him off and leave out the back. Reina picked up the sword he had tried to give to the kid, following behind them.
“You were trying to give the kid a sword?” She asked once they were outside and far enough away from the place no one would continue to look for them if they had planned to in the first place.
“There is nothing better for a young boy to begin learning.”
“Uh, I think his mom thought otherwise.” Natalie laughed. Now that they were for sure not getting in trouble it was pretty funny. “Did they really give swords to kids for presents in your day?”
“Indeed, they were a quality gift.” He said, looking at her expectantly. “I did as you had asked. I would like my gun returned.”
“Well, you didn’t finish all the kids.” She said. When he merely glared at her she laughed more. “Ok, ok. Reina has it.”
He turned to look at Reina.
“Are you really going to make me give it back to him this way Natalie?” Reina asked, getting a little uncomfortable with the plans Natalie had made earlier.
“Yes. If Wolf wants it back he needs to take it back, no?”
“Ok…” she said. By this time Wolf was confused as to what they were talking about. When she started pulling her skirt up Wolf quickly glanced away.
“There is no -” he started.
“I told you Reina has it,” Natalie said with a laugh, “you better look so you can take it back. This is a Merry Christmas to you.”
He glanced back at Reina, regrettably. His gun was strapped to her thigh, something his eyes only barely lingered on before he snatched it back, knowing fully well Natalie would keep pestering him and he wouldn’t get it back any other way.
“Well that wasn’t very romantic.” Natalie said.
“Wolf doesn’t know how to be romantic.” Reina said, dropping her skirt back down. “Though I kind of expected him to have more difficulty than that.”
Wolf just walked off after that, not bothering to stick around and listen to them talk.
“I think Wolf has been dealing with us long enough he’s figured us out.”
SEE, IT’S SO BAD xD AND SO RANDOM. JUST RANDOMLY TORTURE POOR WOLF
43 [Dying]
Why is it that I’m so scared of the end of all of this misery? Why is it that the end must feel dark; why can it not be bright?
I’ve been told about dying a lot. Not recently, of course. No one ever talks about death to someone who is actually dying. No one talks about it when it actually matters most. When it’s the scariest.
It’s so unknown to me. Just what awaits at the end of my beating heart; when the rhythm falls off. Some people call it peace, others just don’t know. I’m one of those. I treasure my heart beating. I place my hand over my chest frequently now just to feel it heavier and more alive than I know I am. But it is weak. So are my lungs. So is my entire body.
I wonder if death will bring me flight. I wonder if it will open up my lungs again, if my heart will be stronger than ever, if I can place my hands over my chest and feel it like a drum.
I try to dream of these things; of these happy thoughts. I try to think that death is a good thing, that I will be released from all my worry and pain, that I will be in a place I could only ever dream of.
But there is doubt… isn’t there always?
“Hey,” he said, sitting down on the edge of my bed. Cyan. I’ve said his name a million times since I became sick. To myself, mostly. I love hearing it inside my head. He’s the strongest person I’ve ever known, and he wills me to push through this even though the odds are against me.
“Hey,” I said. I gave him a small smile. It’s not exactly fake, though it feels it in a way. All the doubt in me makes it hard to believe I can smile. But he does make me happy still. He always has.
“Sorry it took me so long to get in here this morning,” he said, running his fingers through my hair, fixing it up for me a bit since my arms refused to move that much anymore.
“It’s alright.” I want to tell him he shouldn’t come in at all anymore. I’m a wreck. I’m miserable. He should be off being happy, remembering me.Not this sickly thing he keeps trying to push hope into.
“How are you feeling?” He asked. He asks this every time, and I tell him the same thing.
“Fine.” But he knows I’m lying. He would be ignorant if he didn’t and I know he’s far too smart to fall for what I’m saying. But he just gives me a small smile; something that I adore. Something thatreally makes me smile back. A real smile, because I just can’t help but to feel happy when I see his.
“Yeah? Fine enough to get up and go outside for a little while?”
“Huh?” I said, confused. I hadn’t been outside in what felt like forever. On good days it was lucky for me to get up and walk in the hall a little, to spread my despair to the unlucky people that happened to see my miserable self.
“Go outside,” he said, pulling the blankets off me. It was a little embarrassing for him to put his arms around me and pick me up. I knew he could feel how thin I was, I knew it because it even made him hesitate for just a brief moment as he stared down at me. But that was all. Just a brief moment and he was back to his normal self. He held me close as he carried me down the hallways I had grown all too familiar with. White; some smell I no longer noticed, but recalled being rather unpleasant when I first got there.
“Cyan, I can’t go outside can I?”
“Why not? Just for a little while. Just for some fresh air. You’ll be fine.”
When I get outside I close my eyes and inhale the fresh air. This is what the hospital has left me with wanting. This is what I want to be able to smell all the time after I die. Fresh air; nothing indoors at all. Outdoors reminds me of him, for one. He rarely went inside. Even more so now that one of my last happy memories with him was going to be out in the crisp early autumn air, outside seemed all too pleasing.
[[unfinished; may be finished at a later date]] I’m not sure what is wrong with Reina in this… I am just following the prompt xD I’m assuming cancer or something, or at least that’s kind of the feel I’m getting off it anyway. Sorry it’s so depressing! I picked a random theme and OF COURSE I GET DYING.
LOL
Ok this is old… and totally funny xD We had to do some cheesy poem for a class a couple of years ago… and I did a version of Cyan which I turned in BUT I DID ONE OF CREVAN that I forgot about. Here it is. LULS [and it’s not even done]
Dark As Night
You are the moonlight -
Dark hair like the midnight sky,
dreamy and long,
makes me stagger
Silver eyes that match the moon,
glowing with radiance
that makes me swoon
A smile so light,
like wisps of air
flowing over a valley
Oh! You remove all my fright.
And when you hold me,
I’m held by a strength
firm and protective,
as the night protects the predator.
7/17/2012 [Unfinished]
I used to blink a lot when I was younger. I believed somehow my blinking was like clicking a camera, and all the things I didn’t want to forget would be stored away for when I died. And when I did die, a box would be waiting for me and I could lay all these pictures out and see my life there.
I don’t remember these memories now. And I am dying. And I’m trying to remember what was so important to me before, if I managed to hold onto those things at all.
And I’m certainly not taking those mental photographs any longer. All I’d have to save would be the painful ending. It’s the only part I want to forget. But of course I can’t stop blinking, and all I can do is hope if my childhood imagination is true, that it is only true of good things. Things I love.
Not all these doctors. Not all the people that are sad when they come to visit. Not the emptiness when they are gone.
And certainly not me when I look in a mirror. But then again, do I even blink when I look in the mirror? It seems I can’t manage to close my eyes when I do. I’m too mystified by the way I look. By the way my hair has lost its sleekness. By the way my eyes are darker than ever. By the way my skin is pale and thin and barely manages to cover up my bones. By how the beautiful curves of my body that once were have been replaced by these bones, by all these sharp features.
And then, of course, there’s him. The one person I want to remember through all of this. The one person I hope there are a million photographs of waiting for me when I must leave him.
He’s always here to call me beautiful, even though I know I’m far from it now. And he smiles and comforts me. He makes me forget where I am, even if for a brief moment. Perhaps, then, there is one thing left to remember before I leave.
#48 Childhood 7/4/2012
Mm, yeah, another attempt at writingsomething. It’s terrible and lacking tons of stuff but, oh well, it’s something to rework later if I ever feel like it xP Plus it’s not really done. But! I’m going to count it as done on the 100 theme challenge. My done = at least something attempted.
To hold her hand in mine… so small, so delicate… so wonderful.
Reina could remember everything about her daughter – from the moment she first held her, to the moment she was in now, watching her run around with Cyan. These moments made her smile, seeing the two of them together, so much more perfectly fit than she could even imagine before having her.
She was only five now – big enough to do such things as chasing after everyone – but small enough to still be in that perfect moment of childhood. The playful age, the cute age – a time Reina wished would never end.
Her eyes were one of Reina’s favorite features. As she ran up to Reina, those big blue eyes of hers were so bright and gentle. They reminded her of nothing she could remember of her past. All she could recall at that age was looking in the mirror to watch the tears roll down her face; she was amazed by this, watching her own sorrow pouring out. She didn’t know what a happy child was. Not until now, anyway. Sky.
“Hey, how’s my baby?” Reina said, opening her arms up for Sky to run and jump on her lap, hugging her and smiling.
“Good!” Her toothy grin was one Reina could never stop staring at, admiring even. She smiled back at her, tucking her blonde hair back from her face. “Dad said you would take us to get ice cream!”
“Oh did he?” She laughed. “He must have read my mind then.” She smiled at Cyan and he returned it, walking up to them to sit down next to her.
“Of course I did.”
She’s so lucky to have him… so am I.
#10 Breathe Again 7/4/2012
That moment when
you release all your air
and sink to the bottom;
the water weighing your airless
soul to the murky depths;
that is the moment when
you have lost all hope
when everything has gone so
far under
and you feel you’ve lost control.
But all it takes is one simple action;
to climb back up,
to glide through the water,
to break through the top…
to breathe again.
Another 100 theme challenge random entry :3 I guess it’s supposed to be inspirational? xD Don’t ask. I haven’t been writing like, at all ;-;
6/6/2012 (#17; Blood)
There was something about her that just made him collapse.
Her blood.
It was warm in his mouth. And delicious. But he hated it. He hated it so much he couldn’t even stand to drink it for more than a moment. But he would have continued had it not made him feel completely weak and vulnerable. The taste was better than any human. She was bittersweet.
He was clutching desperately to her. The desire for more blood and the hatred of the way it made him feel made it impossible for him to hold on or let go, but he was stuck there against her because of all this uncertainty. He wasn’t sure if he loved her or hated her. I despise her for making me feel this way.
And it didn’t help that she was leaning against him, wanting more. It was normally a laughable matter when girls desired to have their own blood drained from them. But not now, it wasn’t funny at all. He wanted her to stop and leave him alone. This weird feeling she left him with made him feel anything but amused. Just what has she done to me?
Natalie is mine, Jack is Ev’s ;D Our steamy couple xD This sort of thing happened in our RP… just kind of rewrote it for memory for this prompt. Short and sweet but whatever. I need to get myself writing again D;
4/19 [Possible workshop story]
I have to workshop something of mine in class x.x I can’t think of anything to write D;
Alone. That’s how she would feel if she didn’t have her piano in these times when he was gone.
Afraid. That’s how she would feel if she didn’t concentrate on the melody her fingertips created.
It was an easy distraction when he was away. She didn’t forget, though. The lack of his presence made even the music seem lonely. His violin accompanying her was gone. It made her music lack depth somehow. It made her heart feel just as hollow. And then she began to wonder if the music was really doing her any good. Perhaps it was only hurting her more, reminding her of what was missing, reminding her she’d have to spend the night alone again. Alone and afraid. Afraid that she wouldn’t hear the phone ring, afraid that, in that situation, she’d miss something important.
The phone ringing was a good thing – it meant he was going to come home.
But then she worried of the doorbell ringing instead. That was a bad thing. It meant they were coming to tell her he had died.
She felt herself playing faster at this thought, her fingers trailing across the keys, barely gliding over the ones she needed to skip. Frantic to make these thoughts leave her she needed to play something complicated, something that would set her mind at ease of these terrible possibilities she couldn’t help but think of.
Yet, this did her no good either. She knew everything far too well. Of all the times he had to leave she had become so good at the piano nothing she tried to do with it could distract her. She could play a perfect melody while her mind was elsewhere. As much as she loved how beautiful her music sounded, she wished she could rewind what she knew. She wished she could start over, or maybe only know half of what she knew now. She wanted to make a mistake now, to catch herself doing something wrong so she could worry about that instead.
It never happened, though. She didn’t even have to concentrate on finding a mistake; if she made one she would hear it regardless of concentration.
She stopped playing and looked over to his violin, resting in its usual place in the corner. Of course when he played it he would stand near her, positioning himself as close as he could, but also keeping himself in the right place for the sounds to mix the best.
Walking over to it, she picked it up, running her fingers over the strings. She had no idea how to play it, it was something she never wanted to know. It was his thing, not hers.
