Poison (updated version)

I see him through the large swarm of people. He stands alone, completely still. His eyes, black, swallow me whole as he stares at me. I can’t move. My heart has frozen over and my blood has turned to ice. He begins to walk towards me. Each step he takes breaks me further. I try to scream out, but no sound leaves my mouth. The ice has spread to my throat. He stops in front of me, so close that I can feel his warm breath on my skin. He opens his mouth to speak.

And the words, like poison, drip from his lips.

I see her through the large swarm of people. She is completely still, her deep blue eyes wild with fear. I could not imagine anything more beautiful. I begin to walk towards her. I can see that she wants to run, to scream for help, but it’s like she doesn’t know how. A deer caught in the headlights. I stop in front of her. Her long, blonde hair catches in the artificial light and it takes everything in me to resist reaching out and touching it. I open my mouth to speak.

She drinks in my words, cringing as if they were poison.

I see them both through the large swarm of people. They stare at each other across the crowd, both completely still. Their eyes connect, his full of power and hers full of fear. She doesn’t move a muscle as he begins to walk towards her, people parting for him as he does. He stops in front of her, so close that their chests almost touch. He opens his mouth to speak, not breaking eye contact for even a second. Once he has spoken, he receives a small nod of her head in reply, and he laces his arm around her waist possessively. She says nothing as he walks her out of the building.

The last thing I see before the door closes behind them is the curl of his fingers, gripping her side like he’s never going to let go.

He leads me towards a car. It’s black, like his eyes. As I breathe in, his smell hits me and I wince at the sickly sweet odour. It wafts up into my nose and is so strong I can practically taste it in my mouth. It took me wash after wash to completely rid my clothes of that smell the last time I saw him. He opens the back left door of the car. His lips form a cruel smile as he eases me inside and shuts it again. As he walks round to the driver’s seat, I test the handle. Locked. It has to be opened from the outside. I rest my head in my hands, closing my eyes. The slam of his door is a concluding one.

He’ll never let me get away with this.

I lead her towards the car awaiting us. Something makes her wince, whether it be the pressure of my fingers on her side, or even the thought of what she hopes to be untrue; what I need from her. She is a smart girl, she’ll work it out. I smile down at her as I ease her into the car; she doesn’t smile back. Again, I have the urge to touch a strand of her hair, so beautiful in the light of the morning sun. Instead, I walk round to the driver’s seat. When I get in, I see that her head is now in her hands, shielding her face from my vision. Is she crying? No, she has too much pride to do that in front of me. But a small gasp still escapes her lips when I slam my door.

She knows that she’ll never get away with this.

He leads her towards a car. I move through the crowd of people still mingling, all of them oblivious to her, oblivious to him. All except me. Being sure to stay back far enough that I don’t draw attention, I watch him as he eases her inside the car. Even from this distance I still catch the cruel smile he flashes her before he walks round to the driver’s side and climbs in himself. He hesitates for a moment before shutting his door. When he does, the loud slam is followed by the gentle roar of the engine as it is awakened. I watch the car disappear into the distance, getting smaller and smaller until I can no longer see it.

He’d better not let her get away with this.

The trill of a ringtone breaks our silence. He reaches into his pocket and draws the mobile out, not looking away from the road. After glancing down at the screen momentarily, he holds it to his ear. In the rear-view mirror, I watch his eyes narrow slightly.

He listens for a few seconds.

“I do.”

A pause for a few seconds more.

“I won’t.”

He slips the phone back into his pocket.

His eyes catch mine in the mirror and I immediately shift my head to look out the window. Flashes of trees and road signs pull my focus as I attempt to concentrate on anything but him.

The only other person who knows. I hope.

The trill of my ringtone breaks my thoughts. I was thinking of her. Or rather, what she can give me. Recently I haven’t thought about anything else. I glance at the screen of my mobile and, after viewing the name, pick up. The voice that greets me is one I am all too familiar with.

“You have her?”

“I do.”

“Don’t let me down.”

“I won’t.”

The caller hangs up.

Her eyes, still panicked, catch mine when I check the rear-view mirror. She immediately shifts her head. She’s probably been watching my eyes the whole time we’ve been in the car; she knows how much they give away about a person. But then why doesn’t she realise how much hers reveal to me?

She’s hoping I’m the only other person who knows. I wish I was.

On the other end of the line, the trill of his ringtone lasts too long for my liking. I scuff my boots on the gravel for a few moments, impatient. When he eventually picks up, I don’t ponder.

“You have her?” I know that he does.

“I do.”

“Don’t let me down.” I know that he won’t.

“I won’t.”

I hang up.

After moving across the car park, I slip into my car. I’m surprised he didn’t notice it here. He had no idea I was even watching him. Pulling out of the parking space, I glance at the glass doors of the airport’s entrance. Didn’t anybody ever tell her that you shouldn’t run away from your problems?  They always catch up with you in the end, and in this case they intercepted before she had even managed to get away.

I bet she’s hoping that he is the only other person who knows. She’s wrong; I know too.

The Message

I fumble around in my bag for my keys, unable to see clearly from the tears distorting my vision. I glance over my right shoulder, down the hallway of the flat. When my fingers find the sharp edge of the keys, I pull them out and don’t hesitate for even a second before unlocking the door. Once inside with the door closed, I lean against the back of it for a moment to catch my breath.
Just breathe, Melissa. Breathe out, breathe in. Breathe out, breathe in. It’s frustrating me that I have to remind myself how to perform a simple body function.
A flashing red light catches my eye. Someone’s left a message on the house phone. Taking one last gulp of air, I walk across to it and push the button to play it.
Hi Melissa. Please listen to this message, don’t delete it. I beg you.
I know that you don’t want to talk to me at the moment, but please, just hear me out. I need you to know what I have to say. I wasn’t-I’m not cheating on you, I promise. Look, I didn’t want to ruin the surprise. I was… I was going to ask you to marry me. That woman you saw me having dinner with, she is my friend from work. She was helping me plan the proposal! I love you more than life itself, Melissa, and I don’t want to lose you. Please… don’t leave me. I want-
Melissa? Is that you?
I was just leaving you a message!
What are you doing here? No, I don’t care, I just care that you are here.
You need to know that-
Wait, what are you doing?
Melissa?
Melissa, listen to me. Put the gun down. This is all just a misunderstanding.
Please. Don’t do this.
A gunshot fires, the line goes dead.

Snow

I thought that I would have a go at writing my own poem, like Oliver's Red Riding Hood one.

Your skin was pale; your lips were red,

“Our home is yours”, that’s what we said,

We took you in, you helped us too,

You cleaned our house, you made us stew,

My brothers and I, we didn’t know your name,

We didn’t know your story; we didn’t know your game,

On that night we were asleep in bed,

When you put a bullet through Grumpy’s head,

Then you killed Happy, Bashful, and Doc,

So I ran and hid in the grandfather clock,

Sleepy and Sneezy, they soon met your gun,

Out of my brothers, I was the luckiest one,

Their blood stained the carpet where they did lie,

And I knew right then that you needed to die,

I lifted my pickaxe, brought it to your head,

After a few swings, you were also dead,

I stepped over your body, lifeless on the floor,

I left it behind me; I walked out the door,

It’s a mystery, Snow; what happened to you,

Still nobody knows. Except me. I do.

He Is Gone

Through my hazy state between awake and asleep, I feel him climb in next to me. The heat from his body immediately comforts me, and I snuggle closer. After the three hours I have spent restlessly fidgeting, I am finally able to relax. His arm slightly lifts my top as it slides under my back, his hand curling around my waist. I sigh in satisfaction. I love the feeling of his skin on mine, and I wish that for once it could still be there when morning arrives. Yet every time the sun inches high enough to cast bright beams through my window, waking me up, he is gone.

The next day is no exception. An overwhelming brightness flashes behind my closed eyelids and stirs me. I can feel that his body is no longer entangled with mine, and opening my eyes confirms this. The empty space on the sheets next to me engulfs any chance that I might not be alone again.

The next night when he climbs under the covers, I shift my head so that it lies on his chest. I like to feel its gentle rise and fall as he breathes. It lets me know that he is still there, that he hasn't left me yet. He presses his lips softly against my forehead. The kiss lingers there long after he draws away. As I slowly sink into a deep sleep, I feel his words tickle in my ear, but I am far enough gone that I can’t quite catch what he says.  

Poison

I see him through the large swarm of people. He stands alone, completely still. His eyes, black, swallow me whole as he stares at me. I can’t move. My heart has frozen over and my blood has turned to ice. He begins to walk towards me. Each step he takes breaks me further. I try to scream out, but no sound leaves my mouth. The ice has spread to my throat. He stops in front of me, so close that I can feel his warm breath on my skin. He opens his mouth to speak.
And the words, like poison, drip from his lips.

I see her through the large swarm of people. She is completely still, her deep blue eyes wild with fear. I could not imagine anything more beautiful. I begin to walk towards her. I can see that she wants to run, to scream for help, but its like she doesn’t know how. A deer caught in the headlights. I stop in front of her. Her long, blonde hair catches in the artificial light and it takes everything in me to resist reaching out and touching it. I open my mouth to speak.
She drinks in my words, cringing as if they were poison.

I see them both through the large swarm of people. They stare at each other across the crowd, both completely still. Their eyes connect, his full of power and hers full of fear. She doesn’t move a muscle as he begins to walk towards her, people parting for him as he does. He stops in front of her, so close that their chests almost touch. He opens his mouth to speak, not breaking eye contact for even a second. Once he has spoken, he receives a small nod of her head in reply, and he laces his arm around her waist possessively. She says nothing as he walks her out of the building.
The last thing I see before the door closes behind them is the curl of his fingers, gripping her side like he’s never going to let go.

Autumn Ghost Story (Draft 2)

Every year since he left, she met him on the platform. Every year her heart swelled when she heard the clicking of the train on the track, bringing her brother home. When she was ten, she had waited for him for the first time. Five years later, on the same day, she stood on the platform, eager for the train to arrive. It was no different from the other four years. Or so she thought.

Juliette was dressed in a thick, navy coat with fluff around the hood. A woolly, brown scarf was wrapped around her neck and she drew it up to her chin as she waited at the station.  A soft exhalation pushed a wisp of breath into the cool air. It was cold outside, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to see Thomas again.

The twenty three year old was a pilot in the air force. Juliette could remember seeing photos of him when he was little, always clutching a toy airplane in his tight, toddler grip. She could remember the mass of plane models he had in his bedroom when he was a teenager, so proud of his collection. And she could remember the beam on his face when he announced that he was becoming a pilot, finally getting to fulfil his dream. These were the images that played in her head as Thomas’s train pulled up in front of her.

The train doors slid open, revealing him standing just behind. He looked exactly the same as the last time she saw him, Juliette thought, he hadn’t changed. His blonde hair formed waves on his head, and she could see the faint freckles on his nose that he had always hated. She only let him take a few steps forward before bounding into his arms, embracing him tightly.

“Hey sis”, he whispered into her ear. A sad expression crossed his face momentarily, before he thought better of it and adopted a smile as she pulled away.

“I’ve missed you”, she replied, looking into his deep blue eyes which had become slightly watery, even through his effort to remain cheerful. A tear of her own escaped and slipped down her cheek. Over Thomas’s shoulder, she saw an old man’s brow furrow in confusion as he watched over the scene. Ignoring him, she grabbed one of Thomas’s icy hands with one of her own, wrapped snugly in a mitten. 

“Shall we go for our walk?” she suggested, already knowing the answer. Whenever he came back, the first thing that the two would do was take a walk down the Crab and Winkle, an old pathway near their house, where trees from both sides grew so large that they loomed over the path, forming a sort of tunnel. It was filled with memories from when they were younger and used to play there every day.

When they reached the Crab and Winkle, Thomas sucked in a breath at the beauty of it. The trees on either side of the trail were just starting to lose their leaves, so although they were mostly still decorated with the vivid oranges and yellows, a thin coat of the colours also lay across the pathway. As they walked together, Juliette told him stories of the year that had passed since he last visited. He chuckled as she told him about when her and her best friend fell into the river during the summer, and pride shone in his eyes as she told him about how well she was doing in school.

“So tell me about your year” she said, once she had finished. Thomas sighed and begun to speak gently.

“Well, about eleven months ago, not long after we went back, there was an incident. The engine on my aircraft blew, and it came crashing down. My entire platoon was in there; forty people. Only eight survived.”

As Juliette listened, more tears threatened to spill over her eyes, and she almost didn’t see the woman with a pushchair who was about to pass by.

The woman came to a halt just in front of her and said “Excuse me, miss, are you all right?”

“She’s fine, aren’t you Julie?” Thomas said, nudging her lightly.

Juliette nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine thank you.”

The woman gave her a sympathetic look. “Are you sure you’ll be okay out here on your own?”

“Um, its fine, I have my brother” Juliette replied after a moment of hesitation.

Thomas let out a heavy breath, and then softly murmured “Come on, Julie, let’s go.”

The woman stood and watched the strange girl continue down the pathway. What had she meant when she said that she had her brother? Maybe he was meeting her soon. Shrugging, she turned away, pushing her pushchair as she continued her walk.

Juliette turned to face Thomas, and spoke quietly. “I can’t believe how close you were to dying.”

“You have no idea”, he replied. Oh, the cruel irony.

“What do you think happened to all those people who died in the accident? Do you think they went to Heaven?” Juliette didn’t really believe in Heaven and Hell, but she wanted some reassurance that they would be in a place with no more suffering.

Thomas hesitated before answering. “Who knows? Perhaps, or maybe they are still roaming this world.”

“You believe in ghosts?” Juliette was surprised; Thomas didn’t seem like the type to believe in anything supernatural.

He shrugged noncommittally. “I believe that you shouldn’t dismiss something as impossible just because it’s improbable.”

“I guess”, she replied.

Later that evening at the station, just before Thomas had to leave again, he held Juliette’s face in both his hands. He looked directly into her eyes as he spoke. “You know I love you more than anything, don’t you, Julie?”

She was taken aback by his sudden outburst, but her heart blossomed with love anyway.

“Of course I do. I love you too, Tom. More than anything.”

He seemed satisfied, and after one last hug, the train pulled up to the platform. The doors opened and he stepped onto the train, turning to face Juliette once he was inside. He blew her a kiss, which she pretended to catch, and caught the one that she blew to him.

Juliette didn’t like to watch him pull away again so she left before the train set off. Her brown boots shuffled the few leaves that were scattered on the floor, and the slight evening breeze fanned her hair out behind her.

Thomas stepped out of the train again just before it could depart. He watched Juliette from the platform as she walked away; almost unable to believe how much she had grown up in only one year. There was a regretful look in his eyes and a lump in his throat, which he tried to swallow. Once she was out of his sight, he shifted his vision to the station. It was a beautiful building; one that he had always loved. The red bricks seemed to catch on fire in the light of the setting sun. He watched the birds that flew over his head, he watched the wild rabbits that moved at the side of the track, and he watched the sun as it slowly sunk downwards. He watched it all; capturing a mental image, so that he would never forget what life looked like.

He suddenly adopted a look of acceptance, his lips curling into a small, sad smile.

It was only once he closed his eyes that he faded into nothing.

Writing Journal- 1/12/13

This week I have been writing my ‘Autumn Ghost Story’, and also another piece.

For my ghost story, I wanted to have a character that was a ghost, but could only be seen by the other main character, who didn’t know that they were a ghost. I came up with the idea of having them as brother and sister; Thomas and Juliette. I found it quite hard because I needed to think of an idea that meant that other people wouldn’t have to interact with Thomas on a regular basis in front of Juliette. For example, if Thomas lived at home then it would be difficult to make the story work because she would notice if Thomas never interacted with their parents. In solution to this, I decided that Thomas could be in the military, and that he only came back to visit Juliette for one day each year, as he didn’t get on with their parents. I don’t think that my story really has the creepy feel of a ghost story to it, but it is still a story about a ghost, so I hope that still counts.  I also hope that it is clear, at the end of the story, about the fact that Thomas is a ghost. This was a worry of mine, because I didn’t want to spell out the he was a ghost, but had to try and write it so that it wasn’t so vague that the reader couldn’t understand.

The other piece that I have been writing started off as just a random, small paragraph because I was bored. I wanted to continue it, but didn’t know how to continue the story and so I wrote another paragraph, the same story but from the other characters point of you. I was pleased with the way that it turned out, so I decided to write one more paragraph, from an onlooker’s point of you. I like the way it turned out, and I will be putting it on my blog too so that I can hopefully get some feedback on it.

My quote of the week:

“I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now and live in it forever.”- Catching Fire, by Suzanne Collins.

After seeing Catching Fire at the cinema (twice!), I decided to re-read the series. I have read The Hunger Games series many times; I love it, but seeing the film adaption of the second book really made me wanted to read them again. When I came across this part in the book, it reminded me of Thomas in my ghost story, and how that is what he wanted. He needed the closure of seeing Juliette one more time before he could pass on. He would do anything to freeze that moment and live in it forever, but he knows that he has to move on.