Blank Pages

Image of storks from my own collection

The first thing she was aware of was the feel of the gentle breeze caressing her cheek.

It was a constant, gentle thing, a cooling wind to blow away the cares of the day. She found herself breathing easily, enjoying the breeze. Each breath she took brought new aromas, opened her senses to more information about this place.

The scent of wildflowers. Of freshly-cut grass. The cleanliness of a river.

A beautiful meadow, she thought to herself, her mind instantly casting back to when she was just five years old, and her parents had taken her and her brother on a family picnic. That one moment, when she was a child, walking in the tall grass.

“Open your eyes, Alice,” the brimstone voice of the demon broke her reverie.

Alice opened her eyes to find herself standing on a small hill, under the shade of a large yew tree. Around them, she could see people about them, frozen in a moment. Some were running after each other. A few were sitting on picnic blankets, sharing food. She even saw a couple kissing passionately, lovers entwined with each other, forgetting the world. Her cheeks turned red and she looked away.

“You may speak, child,” the demon’s voice seemed to unlock Alice’s lips, and she found the questions tumbling out.

“Where is this? What am I doing here? Why is everyone frozen?” Alice found herself hyperventilating, panic rising in her chest for no reason.

“Breathe, child. You are not in danger here. This…” he waited till Alice had taken two deep breaths and released them before he continued, “Is heaven. A place where those who are sinless and those who have done good, are taken to rest. Frozen, in a moment of time, at their happiest.”

“What… what is it that you wish me to do here then?”

“We want you to destroy Heaven,” she looked at him as though he had gone mad.

He grinned, and sat down. Alice could not help but think how absurd it was, that here, in the sunlight, in what was supposed to be one of the holiest places, a demon, complete with horns, cloven feet, and thin tail, was sitting happily on the ground. And looking up to HER as though she was going to do the impossible.

“What?” she blinked and stared at him.

“Corrupt Heaven, Alice. This is the price you will pay.”

“But how?” she took a few steps back from him and held her hands open wide, to emphasise her words.

“I leave that up to you. Let me know when it begins, hmm?” the demon leant against the Yew tree, closed his eyes, and soon began snoring.

Alice did not dare to even think of running away. She had made a bargain, and she would stick with it. The question that arose, of course, was how do you corrupt heaven?

~~~~~~~

Heaven, they say, is a place on earth.

Or that it’s something you work on. I don’t know. And to be honest, I stopped caring a long time ago.

Heaven, to me, is a state of mind. It’s a moment of bliss, a moment of happiness. A moment where everything clicks. When you feel right, and that everything around you is right. A moment that you would want to freeze. So as to remember it forever.

I don’t want to freeze time.

I know I don’t want to die. I have a lot of things to live for. I always had, I’ve just never had the courage to admit it to myself. But that’s beside the point.

I like the idea of Heaven, but I don’t like what you have to do to get there. That separation is painful. And if there is nothing in this life after death, it is also pointless.

Much better to love and appreciate the people around you instead while they are here. Heaven shouldn’t be a place you wait to meet those who’ve gone before. By the time you’ve found out, it’ll be too late.

Heaven should be a place on earth. Or rather, a person on earth.

Moments of happiness. Of life.

I don’t want to leave this plane. I don’t want to leave my friends, my family, my loves. I want to live here. To be here. Eternal happiness is nothing if the people I care about are not there.

Hell, they say, is other people. But I’m willing to be in Hell if my loved ones are in hell. Because my heaven are the people I care about.

And apparently I can care quite a bit.

This entry was written for the 100 Themes Challenge. For the full list, click here.

Original entry as appearing at Ink to Screen.

Image by Melanie Cook (wiccked) on Flickr

Chapter 4: Solace-Taking

She had never expected it to spiral out of control this fast.

The plate flew over her head as she ducked. It smashed with a terrific sound against the wall behind her, accompanied by screams. She covered her head with her hands, thankful that her long sleeves protected her arms somewhat.

“How could you do that?” there was a terrific shout from her brother.

“We did nothing of the sort! It’s over between us!” she peeped over the kitchen counter to see her brother throwing another plate.

“How could you, Mit? How could you? You know how I feel about her!”

“Tim, calm down! It isn’t like that, I promised!” she saw Mit move forward to try to calm Tim down, but her brother picked up and threw an icebox instead.

She belatedly remembered that the ice box was filled with fish Mit and Tim had brought back from their fishing expedition yesterday, as the box flew over Mit’s head, bounced on the counter, and unloaded its content on her. She screamed in terror.

“Alice!” she heard her brother shout in terror, but it was Mit who came to her aid first.

“Alice, are you alright?” he asked her gently, removing some of the fish from her head. The look on terror on her face told him otherwise.

“I’m so sorry,” her brother came and knelt next to Alice, taking her hand.

Alice found her eyes welling with tears. They were both concerned over her, and they both looked absolutely miserable at her. She burst into tears and hugged them both. They tried to calm her down, forgetting their argument just now, but what neither of the boys realised was Alice cried to cover the guilt and darkness within her own heart.

~~~~~~

Solace: comfort or consolation in a time of distress or sadness.

Seeking Solace: Looking for comfort or consolation in a time of distress or sadness.

I’m not one to usually ask for solace. I kind of pride myself on giving it to others. Seeking solace for myself isn’t something that I’m used to doing, with the occassional exception of screaming about clients (and there are more of those now than I thought before).

Solace’s something I find it easy to give to others. Essentially, for the person giving, it’s an investment of time, care and sometimes, physical hugs/presence. The thing about giving solace is that you need to remember you cannot do anything about the problems the other person has. You cannot fight their battles.

Learning to let go and letting people fight their own battles was always the hardest thing for me to do. I had a hero mentality; I would offer advice forcefully at times because I wanted to be proven right. I wanted to be the one whom others looked up to, wanted to be someone who was needed.

Which stems from my own childhood demons, but that’s a story for another day.

It took me some time and training to realise sometimes people didn’t want advice. They just wanted to be comforted. To know there’s someone who’s listening and supporting them.

Sometimes it’s just the knowledge that you’re not alone.

I’ve been seeking solace from friends recently. That incident left me far more scarred than I thought it would have, and even though I thought the scab was already dry, it turned out that it was still bleeding underneath. As someone says, it only has been four months, but seeing him on Sunday and talking frankly about what’s happened…

I could put on a strong face for him, an almost heartless one, I think, at times, but when I’m alone and the headset’s on and there’s just me and the screen…

Sometimes it isn’t really solace I seek, I think.

Maybe it’s redemption.

This entry was written for the 100 Themes Challenge. For the full list, click here.

Original entry as appearing at Ink to Screen.

This post was written for the 100 Themes challenge. For the full list, click here.

Chapter 3: Lightning

There are shadows, and then there are shadows.

Some shadows you can see easily; darkness created by an obscured sun. Others live only in the fear of your mind, hidden in the deepest trenches of your soul.

Most terrifying of all are the shadowkeepers who wield both. They wield them like weapons, to manipulate, horrify and control. They are not a large number.

But they exist.

Or so the girl told herself as she sat in the middle of an empty house in the forest, stirring a pot and whispering soft, arcane words.

Her voice had a singsong quality, rising and falling in measured intervals. She took a deep breath before each new line, a shallow one whenever she had to add ingredients. A great sigh escaped her lips when she reached the end of the incantation.

“For thus I swear, and thus I curse, their life together in a hearse,” the tune made no sense, yet as she finished, there was the crack of thunder, and a flash of lightning. The fire under her stirring pot went out, and she felt chills on her spine.

Soon there was nothing left in the abandoned house, not even the tiny light of an ember.

Read the rest of this entry »

Original entry as appearing at Ink to Screen.

“Wow,” was all they could say to each other as they laid in bed.

They were both lying face-down, hands intertwined on a pillow between them. Turning to face each other, they smiled shyly. They could feel their sweat cool quickly in the air-conditioned room; soon it would be too cool for them to sleep separately. They did not move though; they were that exhausted.

“That was great,” one of them broke the silence with a wide smile.

“Yeah, it was… insane,” the other replied, eyes half-closed with a smug, contented grin spread across the face.

“Good night, Tim,” the other found the strength push himself up somewhat, and then pulled the other into his arms. Tim mumbled contentedly, and snuggled against his partner, eventually falling asleep.

~~~~~

This was a post that was much more difficult to write than I thought it would be.

It’s not so much of the fact that Love is a hard topic to write. It’s not so much that I find it hard to describe love. It’s more of the fact that I didn’t know what aspect of Love I wanted to talk about.

Alright, let’s try it this way.

I love.

It’s kind of hard not to.

For me, love doesn’t just mean saying the words “I love you.” It means having that emotion drive you to take an action. To do something. So when people whom I love call me out, ask me for favours, for help… it’s hard for me to say no. I also have the tendency to buy these people food, lunch and basically just shower them with love or what passes for it.

I’ll be honest though. I play favourites. There are those whom I’m willing to make the effort for, to ensure my schedule fits around their needs, and there are those whom I’ll only go so far. There are those I’ll push, those I’ll stand back.

And what hurts the most is watching them hurt and not being able to do more than the word “hug” or a sad face on the internet. The instinct to mother is strong within me, I won’t deny that. And there are times when I just wish I could grab all of them and hug them till the hurt goes away. And that’s the hardest part. Because they have to go through their own hurt till they come out the other side.

Someone once told me I’m more wife/mother material than I am girlfriend. Maybe I am. The hardest part though, is to keep the pain I feel inside inside and not let it leak out. Love is pain, don’t let anyone tell you differently.

Love is biting your lip and saying nothing when the person you love rants for things you have no control over. Love is staying your hand and resisting the urge to raise it in help, not just because offering help would weaken them, but understanding and allowing the ones you love to rise up on their own feet and watching them turn into kind human beings without help is the greatest love and help of all. Even if it hurts to see them struggling, but not being able to help, until they ask for it.

Love is realising that you are broken yourself, and in retreating from the world to rest, recuperate, and heal. Love isn’t just in giving yourself in love, but in realising that others love you too, and in learning to accept that love.

That there are people who love and care for you as much as you love them. That there are those who will never return the love you show them. That there are those who love you but you just can’t love them back.

Love’s a bitch. Love’s kind. Love hurts. Love heals.

Love.

For the full list of 100 themes, visit this page.

Original entry as appearing at Ink to Screen.

Image by Ramunas Geciauskas on Flickr.

So Rincredulous sent me a link to a very interesting challenge. It was quite simply, 100 topics to write about when you hit a block. However, while chatting with her, she suggested I do both short story and themed blog post (the result of which you can read here) but that’s neither here nor there.

So if you’re wondering, here’s my chosen 100 topics, taken straight from the 100theme challenge on DA. I might add a short story to it, I might not. Or maybe a blog post. We shall see.

Read the rest of this entry »

Original entry as appearing at Ink to Screen.