Battery Charities?

Well, I got the grade back for my Escapist story. I got an A on it, but she put no comments on it at all. I know that's a good thing, but I just get so nervous, when there's no critism or anything.

My next story I plan to write was suggested by my friend Matthew, and I think it'll be a challenge, but I'll show him I can do this. He wants me to write a plot about "an Energizer battery that forms a charity for people that bite their fingernails too much."

So yeah... this should prove interesting.

Continue?

Escapist

So, I decided to kill two birds with one stone. We had to write another story for creative writing, using this opening line: She sat on a suitcase waiting for a taxi. This is what I came up with, which is basically a remake of an older fairy tale. The song sang throughout the story is "Escapist" by a band called Brandtson.

She sat on a suitcase waiting for a taxi. But the taxi never showed and after hours of waiting and letting the autumn winds run across the field and collide onto her shoulders, it still didn’t come. She was a small pillar, sitting cross legged against one side of Nowhere Road, inbetween a field of corn and a forest of somber shadows. From visits before, she knew these crops and remembered in the summer how her grandmother would take her to pick the fresh corn for supper and how sweet it tasted against her tongue, like some candied vegetable. Now, the left over corn was trying to hide behind the leaves, surrounded by stalks that started to turn crimson and curl down. They were crimson, just like the hood of her sweater she pulled over her head. The girl used it to guard from the wind that grew colder as the sun began to shrink down across the horizon.



Her jacket was like a blessing now, some security that wrapped around her form allowing her mind to drift off into memories, at least for a little while. She had been thirteen then and her grandmother presented the sweater in a box of shining paper. With anxious eyes and hands, she tore the gift box open and lifted the clothing out, feeling it against her cheeks. So soft and velvet, or as her grandmother described, like the down of angel feathers. And the young girl felt just like an angel, as she twirled about the living room under the dusty chandelier that was missing a few light bulbs. Even in that moment, those lights were still as elegant as ever. Five years later, her sweater still fit the same on her and she wished she could feel the comfort of it now, only the wind stung her cheeks again and she was lured out of her visions. She pulled the strings of the hood tighter and closed her eyes for a moment.

The situation wasn’t quite like this either. She usually visited in the summer of course, but she had a chance to go earlier. Under unfortunate circumstances, of course. Her grandmother had fallen ill, and her mother busy at work, was unable to do anything about it. So, the girl was sent off with a package of some herbal medicine, green teas, and cakes that was now buried somewhere among the clothes in the suitcase. But she was happy to go until she realized the taxi wasn’t coming.

She sat against a withered post that connected a fence of brown wire, encasing the perimeter of the fields. The final bus stop. Her grandmother had ordered a taxi the rest of the way and every visit, it went like this. It seemed so simple, but now she felt so lost and alone. She waited longer and began to sing with the music of the headphones that filtered into her ears. She let herself drift away again, the whisper of melodies floating on wind. In this quiet place, no one would hear her, and she wouldn’t have to worry about her voice being awful for others to listen too. She didn’t feel that embarrassment she felt on certain occasions when she was pulled by friends onto a stage, singing karaoke with 1980’s music.

"You’ll go on to become the queen of some kingdom… And I’ll be that monster of myth off in some forest, mire or filth…"

Her eyes lifted open when she felt a slight kick against her boot and looked up. Some one had heard her singing, but he seemed to not care about the off key qualities her voice carried with it. Instead, gray eyes under a cerulean hooded sweater stared down at her waiting for an answer to a question she didn’t have yet. She reached both her hands up to her headphones, pushing them off her ears.

"You should get going somewhere now," he said. She began to reply, but found herself focused on his hair. It seemed so golden and fine, like something only an expert weaver could thread together. In this country, most people didn’t have such handsome hair, and he became a prince among this landscape. Only for a moment, she found her words abandoning her to answer the boy. Then it was too late, and she watched as he became a dark speck in the distance, following the road to whatever castle he came from.

Somewhere to go now, she thought letting the words roll around on her silent tongue. It was apparent by now, after waiting for so long, she could have easily walked to her grandmother’s house and gotten there. And as she gave up on the taxi, she realized she would go somewhere now. She would hopefully reach the inviting fireplace of her grandmother’s house before nightfall. All she had to do was follow the road around the bend she couldn’t even see from her view point, and she would be safe.

She lifted her body from the post behind her back. Any minute longer leaning against it, and she would have found the pressure of her body breaking it. Moving was in her best interest now, and as her feet steadily walked down the road while her one arm lifted the suitcase, she dropped her headphones back on top of her ears.

"Now it’s clear to me. We should have seen this coming back at the beginning…"

She sang on until she came just before the bend in the road and paused, letting her fingers press into the stop button. The music died down, and her eyes scanned across the road, towards the forest. The trees were split open here and became a canopy over a path away from Nowhere Road. If she followed it, perhaps she could cut across the bend and get to her destination sooner. She looked back to the sun for an answer, and saw it was barely even there to welcome her anymore. The orange in the sky started to fade into a deep lilac color and that was enough to convince her. Soon the stars would be out, shining brighter than the fireflies in July.
Walking off the road into the path, she pressed play again and picked up where she left off.

"We both chose to take this road to the same place but at a different pace…"

Heading deeper into the forest, she became aware that she was not the only one singing here and when the howling struck rang out across the trees, she shuddered, stopping the music to take caution of the beast’s warning. She gazed around, not fully able to tell if it was the trees shaking from the wind or from the blood, curdling wail. Wolves. She was so close to her destination, even the animals that ruled this region couldn’t stop her. After all, didn’t the prince want her to go somewhere? She would at least carry out his wishes, and allowed herself to hold her chin high with the ounce of bravery she conjured up.

But most of her fear still consumed her now and she did not press play again. She didn’t want to miss any sounds of padded footsteps creeping up behind her. Her being begged her to be aware, because at any moment, with each passing footstep she put on the ground, her stomach dropped into a pit of despair. Then again, she persuaded herself the feeling in her belly was hunger and nothing more. She wondered what the chances were of something horrible crashing out of the forest until it did.

She saw antlers first, large and ivory and thought for sure they were rushing at her. But the deer crashed, knees buckling underneath it, as it fell tumbling to the ground. She heard bones crack in his fragile legs as the buck gasped for breath, curled up on the ground like unfolded laundry. His whole body was a crumpled mess and she moved forward to let her hand touch the deer, to comfort him if he would allow. She could try that much at least.

Try as she might, something else got to the deer first. His hunter. Like a flash of silver, the wolf leapt through the trees, its jaws snarling and snapping as it clamped onto the deer’s neck. The girl put her hand over her mouth and ceased movement, because so far, the wolf was so hungry it didn’t realize she was there. It seemed to intent on its meal to care for that matter. In and in the wolf’s teeth sank with each back and fourth swing of its head. With powerful hind legs, it began to push itself out, dragging the victim along back into the shadows of the trees. She stepped around the blood, not even allowing the song to take her mind off this one.

The girl hadn’t seen so much blood since her mother cut her finger once while make dinner. She was trying to chop an onion and the girl, disliking them so much, sat in the living room chair, fuming with thoughts of how much she wished the onion would just disappear. Like not so pleasant magic, her mother cut her finger deep enough that blood spilled onto the vegetable and they threw it out in the end. Now that she looked back, it was probably not that much blood at all, but when your eyes are so small, everything looks so much bigger in the world.

At this moment, her eyes saw a small, comforting light, glowing not very far off in the thickness of the forest. She knew that light. Her grandmother would keep it on, so the girl would always know where to go. She would know her way, if she got lost taking a walk. That beacon of hope would be her North Star home. She followed with her suitcase now dragging behind her. She would get these goodies to her grandmother.

The trees seemed to fall in towards the path more and she had to shuffle through their jagged points. She dodged around long branches, ducked under low twigs, and hopped over roots that tried to capture her feet. She swept away spider webs with her hand and didn’t look back on the fate of the deer at all, until her attention was pulled by some one or something. She noticed a patch of razor sharp thorns snagging at the hem of her sweater and tugged it loose as fast as she could. She heard a faint rip in the fabric and let her lips drop into a frown, feeling herself loosing this battle with the forest minute after minute.

Freeing her sweater revealed something else and she let her fingers move around the thorns to pick up a piece of cerulean fabric. And right beneath it, hidden among the thorns, a trail scarlet liquid formed for her to follow. Thicker and thicker it became as she walked along the side of the thorn brush until it ended where she soon found the prince’s head. So pale and cold he looked, his body still wrapped in the blanket of thorns. His blonde hair was now matted with blood and those gray eyes had been scarred from the fall where the thorns scratched them out with no apologies. But he wouldn’t need them to see any longer, because he couldn’t. A tear curled around her cheek and she looked for a stick, something to push the thorns away. At least maybe she could free him from his cage, and as she wrenched a branch off a tree, she began to long so much more for the star that pointed home.

The thorns unfolded like a curtain and inside them, his stomach had been ripped to pieces by teeth. She had seen those jaws at work before and without a doubt, she knew the entrails spilled around him was the work of another wolf. Perhaps one of the same pack. There was nothing she could do for now until she got some help and that sinking feeling came quickly back to her stomach, as if some one had kicked her hard. She leaned over for a moment, holding her stomach and releasing her hand on the suitcase. What ever it was she drank and ate many hours before came rushing up and fell down onto the earth. She waited for a moment and breathed in, trying to get the taste of something like rotten oranges out of her mouth and then gathered her suitcase dragging it back towards the light that grew brighter and brighter until she was home at last.

The door was unlocked, which was nothing out of the ordinary and she called out to her grandmother. It would be alright, she told herself, although she knew the prince would not be seeing his castle anytime soon. She would let it pass her for now and she pressed play once more to finish the song.

"And I’ll say, I’m the fabled one that let you down… The greatest escapist the world has even known…"

Yes, she did escape from all those wolves, she thought humming along with the instruments as she unpacked the basket of goods from within her suitcase and set it on the table. The song’s whole three and a half minutes seemed like the longest she had ever known in her life. But it was over and she could start a new story all over again. She set her headphones inside her suitcase and closed it shut like she would protect a treasure chest full of her dearest possessions. Just like she wanted, the fireplace was waiting for her, warm and comforting as she had seen it in her mind and she later would sit by it for a while, after she saw her grandmother foremost.

Both of her hands ran along the walls as she made her way to her grandmother’s room, letting one hand pull away from the familiar wall paper as her knuckles tapped, knocking against the door. Grandmother mumbled from inside the room, the sound a person makes from waking up after a long time or being extremely exhausted once a tiresome event has passed. The girl let herself in, pausing before the end of the bed, watching the shadows that formed on the covers from the two candles that flickered on the small dresser at the side. The blankets were wrapped around a mass of body, that looked much larger than what she remembered her grandmother’s size. At least her grandmother still had an appetite, the girl thought.

She stepped closer, "What good eating you’ve done since I’ve been away."

There was a quick jerk of movement underneath the blankets. The girl arched an eyebrow, curious if the sickness her grandmother carried made her convulse like this. But stepped closer again, anxious to show her grandmother the crimson hood she loved so much as well once again.

"Look how sick you’ve become, but I’m here to take care of you."

There was another moan, a soft whimper, and her grandmother’s hand fell from under the blankets, limp at the side of her bed. Blood slowly trickled across the old fingertips that used to stroke the girl’s brow whenever she was visiting and came down with the flu herself. The girl hoped she could do the same in return for her grandmother, and stepper ever so closer.

"Grandmother… how weak you are now."

With that, the girl’s voice finally heard, the blankets moved fast and fell away as the form underneath them twisted to get up. The girl fell back onto the floor and clear in her sight, hovering over the edge of the bed now was the amber eyes of an onyx wolf staring down at her. It gnashed teeth together, breathing viscously as if it were a dragon about to send a column of flame at her. The wolf stood for a moment testing the girl, blood dripping down its powerful jaws, as it guarded the grandmother. Its tiger-like paws moved and with one strong leap it fell, ripping the crimson hood and anything inside of it to shreds.

Continue?

Spell of the Wild Yard Shrews

This is a story I wrote for my friend Daniel. He was obsessed with these things called wild yard shrews and I don't even think they're real, but I wrote it anyway.

This story starts out quite different in that the character in the story has nothing to do with being a prince or princess and in fact, he was not even related to royalty at all. He was just a boy who lived in a closet surrounded by darkness. Now why did he live in a closet? No one exactly knew why, but he stayed in there all day and all night and when his mother gave him food, she slipped it through a small spot under the door. She wasn't a bad mother and hadn’t punished him there, but had actually encouraged him to come out and get fresh air and play with the other boys in the town. However, he would not come out of the closet for anyone or anything. Most had guessed it was from some trauma he had when he was younger that caused him to be afraid to be outside anywhere, but he didn't talk to anyone so there was no way anyone would ever know.



This affected his parents greatly because he was their only son, but they never saw him at all. They never got to watch him grow or got to talk to him, so his parents became quite depressed over this. It was then that one night they became so upset over trying to get the boy, Daniel, out of the closet and when he still kept it locked from the inside, they both went and killed their selves.

Then, it was when Daniel heard their bodies slump on the floor that he finally got out of the closet and looked around sighing of relief. Now he was free to roam around the house, but what about going outside in the village? He quietly crept over to the window and looked out, only his forehead and eyes showing over the top of the windowsill, when he saw that the whole village was in fact a village wild yard shrews.

Now, wild yard shrews are quite dangerous beings, but nothing quite explains their actions or how they look. The one thing we can say is that Daniel was terrified of the wild yard shrews and didn't want anything to do with them. This all started one day when Daniel was outside for once in his life before he decided to hide in the closets. He accidentally crossed the path of an angry wizard at the time that put a spell on him and from that day fourth, all people to him would be seen as wild yard shrews. Every person he saw became a wild yard shrew. So he hid in the closet.

Now that his parents were dead, he did not know what to do so he walked around the house for a couple days since it was safe in there. Then there was a knock on the door and he quickly dashed back into his closet and hide as usual. The door to their house opened and a couple villagers (what Daniel sees are a couple wild yard shrews keep in mind) walked into the house. Daniel looked out the peep hole in the closet and watched as they took his parents away to be properly buried.

He knew the villagers would send people in who would want to buy and live in his house now, so there was nothing else for Daniel to do except leave his house in secret at night. And so he did, terrified, but freed from the village at least. Daniel had no idea about the spell that was put upon him by the wizard. He had just thought the wild yard shrews had eaten all the people and that they took over. He had no idea if there would ever be any other humans he would see around, but now he knew he had to do things on his own. He was in heavy despair trying to figure out what to do when he got lost in a very thick forest. He tried to stay to anything that looked like a path but nothing seemed like a way out of here and he dreaded running into a dragon, demon, or worse, a wild yard shrew.

It was days on end as he wandered the forest helplessly alone and hungry, for he hadn't eaten in a good week and at least his wild yard shrew parents had fed him, although he dreaded that they might poison him one day. He often hugged himself around the sides, trying to tame the hunger or squeeze it away perhaps, but nothing seemed to work and exhaustion was getting to him. He wondered, as he finally fell, why did this forest seem longer then it should have?

It was like a very dark dream of blackness he was having and then suddenly he felt cool water upon his lips, swallowed some of the refreshing liquid, and opened his eyes and sat up to see a girl watching him. And yes, strangely for some reason, this was a girl and not a wild yard shrew. He couldn't believe his eyes and blinked them a couple times and then rubbed them, but it was still a girl. Then as she watched him, she tiled her head slightly to the side and then laughed a bit and said," Do you have something in your eyes?"

"No, I thought you would be a wild yard shrew," he said almost a gasp.

"A wild yard shrew??? What are those?" she giggled.

"You haven't ever seen a wild yard shrew!? Are you mad?? They're all over the place watching us!" he exclaimed waving his hands around for a moment to try and show her. She still laughed at him and then held her hand out to help him up, which he took and stood.

She then stepped back and added, "Well, my name is Adria. We should get out of this forest, don't you think?"

"Well, I guess... but I hope there aren't any more wild yard shrews around."

"I don't think there will be," she smiled with a nod.

So, then they both left the forest finally, him following her, since she seemed to know her way pretty much around the forest some how. When they finally got out, they headed down a path to a village full of people, but Daniel, he saw wild yard shrews again and left running, screaming in the other direction. Adria only blinked wondering what was wrong with him then went to look for him and soon found him hiding up in a tree. She looked up at him and he was shivering so hard at the sight of the yard shrews, that leaves were falling from the branches.

"Will you come down?" she asked. "I don't know why you are so afraid..."

"You were trying to lead me into a village of wild yard shrews!" he hissed down at her.

"But that's a village of people," she said. "At least I see people anyway…"

"No, it's yard shrews!" he replied shouting back at her.

Adria stood and thought for a moment about this and why he was seeing wild yard shrews when she saw only people and the people also saw her as a person, so it couldn't be just her. It had to be him, she thought. Some one must have put a spell on him and in this day and age, there were lots of temperamental wizards, witches, warlocks, sorcerers, and sorceress'. She knew that for a fact, but she knew one that wasn't.

"You must have a spell on you," she said. "That makes you see all people as wild yard shrews. Do you remember having a spell cast on you?"

"Well, no of course I didn't," he said nodding his head. "It wouldn't make sense, because I don't see you as a yard shrew. So maybe you're the crazy one who is not seeing the yard shrews that are taking over!"

"Well, maybe so," she nodded. "We should get it checked out. Well, my grand father is a wizard. He could help us!"

"I suppose... As long as he isn't a wild yard shrew. If he is, I can't trust him," Daniel added with a sigh as he climbed down finally from the tree.

"Well, you have too because if you don't then you'll never know the truth," she said nodding.

"Alright, alright..." he said shaking his head. "The first wrong move the wild yard shrew makes though, I'm out of there."

It was then that Daniel realized that the wild yard shrews had never tired to hurt him, as he did have them for parents when they just could have broken the door of the closet down. Wild yard shrews were very strong in fact, so why didn't they? Better yet, why wasn't he a wild yard shrew, since both his parents where? Maybe those wild yard shrews were posing as his parents? He didn't really know but he just kept on following Adria into a hidden secluded place in the woods where they would meet her grand father, the wizard.

Finally, they got to the wizard’s house and when Adria knocked on the door, the wizard, to Daniel, did not actually appear a wild yard shrew. However, there was something very familiar about him. He recoiled back some as they wizard greeted his grand daughter then looked over at him and glared down upon him. It was then that it all came back to him suddenly. This was the wizard who had put a spell on him to make him see wild yard shrews! The spell he had forgotten! But the wizard remembered Daniel very well and was in no mood as usual for a troublesome boy.

"You... you're the one who put a spell on me!" Daniel shouted pointing a finger at the wizard.

Adria gasped lightly and looked at her grand father, "Did you put a spell on him, grand father???"

"Well," he said pointing a finger in the air, " I most certainly did and for a good cause. Little rascal was wondering on my property!"

"That's not very nice,” Adria said scolding him, her eyes narrowed at her grand father. "Now... take it off!"

"No!" The old wizard bellowed back.

"I’ll tell everyone about your secret organization you have!" Adria threatened.

"You wouldn't?!" he snarled back at her.

Now Daniel was a bit confused.

"I would so," she nodded matter of factly.

"Well fine then! Let's see you two tell everyone when you're both locked in a cage!!" he said picking them both up by their collars and throwing them in cages big enough for children.

Adria groaned knowing very well she had made her grandfather mad again and that he would not let them out for a long time. So they both waited patiently but her grandfather seemed to not want to let them out at all and kept them in there for day and days on end. He didn't even feed them and Adria was starting to get mad.

One day, the wizard left to go out to the city and stupidly left the key to the cages with in reach of them. Adria gleefully sighed and reached up taking the key and unlocked the cages and then helped Daniel out. She looked around for a moment hoping her grand father wouldn't come back for a while.

"Now what?" Daniel asked.

"Well, we have to go ask a witch or wizard who knows how to get the spell off of you, or else you will still see wild yard shrews all the time. I think the reason you don't see me as one, is because I was related to the wizard who put the spell on you," she nodded. "But anyway, we have to hurry."

And with that, she led him out of her grand father's hut and back around it to a tree stump. She tapped on the lid of the tree stump about three times and the top of it flew open like a small door and a witch popped out of it.

"Oh well hello there Adria! Come to see us all?" she cackled.

"Yes, but we have a problem,” Adria said with a frown and began to tell the witch all of their problems.

"Ahhh, I know just the person who can help you,” she smiled. "And your grand father has been extremely cranky as of late. Working us very hard and even punishing us! Well, anyway, come on down and I'll lead ya to him."

She waved her hand for Daniel to follow as they went into the tree stump and climbed down a ladder that led them underground. The ladder led into a tunnel and they followed the witch, who didn't appear as a wild yard shrew to Daniel, which was starting to perplex him. He wondered why, but he thought maybe it was because the witch knew about the yard shrew spell. He didn't care though, because it was one less yard shrew he had to see.

They followed the witch to a door and when she opened it, Daniel couldn't believe his eyes. There was an underground casino! Full of witches and wizards of course. He walked up to Adria and said, "What is all this?"

"Oh this is my grand father's casino for witches and wizards. They come work and play here, because well you can't just make money off of doing spells and brewing potions," Adria nodded. "It's a secret though."

"But he hasn't been paying us either!" the other witch said.

"Some one needs to punish my grand father for what he's doing!" Adria said.

And the witch nodded in agreement and then led them into the casino trying to look for the wizard who could help them. She finally led them to a wizard with amber yellow eyes and a floor length black beard and strangely enough, he had black cat ears poking out of his wizard hat. He looked at them and greeted the fellow witch as she began to tell them the story. The wizard's name they found out was Rufus a long time companion of Adria's grandfather.

"He's been a real trouble and disgrace to us lately!" Rufus bellowed. "You know I started this place and he stole all my ideas!! Well, we'll show him... But first to take the spell off of you, young man."

And so Rufus laid a finger on the tip of Daniel's nose and concentrated for a while and Daniel didn't know what he was doing, but he had the urge to sneeze. Right before he sneezed, Rufus took his hand off and smiled down at him. Then Daniel sneezed and Rufus said, "It is done!"

Daniel was a bit skeptical of it, but he guess it had worked after all. They then waited and planned a secret attack on Adria's grandfather for when he came back. Rufus waited at the right moment to sneak up on him when he returned and turned him right into a frog! The wizard was angry but there was nothing he could do about it, because you cannot use your powers when some one turns you into a frog and well, no one wanted to kiss Adria's grand father.

So, they stayed underground for a while and had a good time. Adria's grandfather became an attraction, for how often do you get to see a talking frog? All the witches and wizard were living happily now in the under ground casinos, going on about their lives as how they wanted to, since Rufus was the new owner. However, Daniel still did not know if the spell Rufus had done on him had freed him.

Rufus had explained that they way the spell was set up was made that everyone would be seen as wild yard shrews except a few people. These people where any witch or wizard who knew the basics of the spell, or anybody with the blood of a witch or wizard in them, which meant Adria. But only masters of the spells could take it off, which meant either Rufus or Adria’s grandfather. And, well, we all knew Adria’s grandfather would have never taken it off.

The next day then, Daniel and Adria left the underground casinos and went back to the village, Daniel a bit still fearing he would see the wild yard shrews. However, when they got to the village, all the people were people! He couldn't believe his eyes as he sat rubbing them trying to get his vision to stop tricking him, but they still stayed as people and for the first time in his life since he had came out of the closet, he felt so happy and relieved.

Adria just turned at him and said with a soft grin, "Told you they were people."

Continue?

The Angry Tables of Tablia

Story I wrote when a friend named Robert told me to write about a kill chair.

Once upon a time, a stork was on his daily routine, delivering babies to kingdoms in the lands and across the seas of eternal blue. During on night where the stags hung in a midnight blue sky, he was on his way to the most magnificent castle to greet the king and queen with their bundle of joy, the prince. However, the stork was a little tipsy on this evening. The stork had been so excited about going to the kingdom that he took to celebrating with a few bards before his departure and drank a little too much. Suffice to say, his flying wasn't all that graceful and he was getting a bit sea sick to his stomach, which is a strange thing to say anyway, since he was flying in the air. Feeling even more dazed by the moment, he quickly searched for the castle. In his drunken state, he flew over the wrong kingdom and swooped down to a small stone house at the edge of town. He entered the house, squinting his eyes as he looked around the empty place.



"Looks like the queen and king have been renovating! A bit tiny this place has -hiccup- gotten, eh? Well, I'm sure your parents will be home soon anyway. No need to worry," he slurred drunkenly to the baby, placing him on the floor. The baby stared confused, not understanding a word.

With that, the stork flew out of the house and left the baby boy behind in this kingdom. What was so wrong about it was that this kingdom was ruled by living and breathing tables. The tables were like people very much. They could run, walk, talk, eat, and sing if they wanted to. And in the end, one thing was outlawed in the kingdom, and that was making things out of wood, because to do that it would be like killing a fellow table.

At that moment, the child started crying and the only other human in the village (a young woman who also got left there by a drunken stork, go figure) walked into her home and looked down at him. She sniffed the air and sighed heavily when she smelled the aroma of alcohol. She knew it was another drunken stork. From that day forward, she took care of the boy who they both never knew was a prince.

As he grew, she taught him many things, even though she did not have a lot of possessions herself. You see, the city they lived in was called Tablia and the tables did not take a liking to humans at all. They even built a high wall around their kingdom to keep the humans out. They had one main reason for that. What were to happen if the lands surrounding Tablia did not have enough supplies of tables? They would surely come to Tablia and use the tables there as slaves. So, they shut out the humans. They did want to get rid of the girl and boy living there, but the two lived in the smallest house and no table was able to walk through their door.

The most important thing the young girl stressed to the boy, whom she named Robert, was proper table manners at dinner time. In her house, she only had a few things: a television, a freezer, and a pillow. In her freezer, she had a carton of sherbet there that she never ate. She told Robert that sherbet was such a delicacy that you had to eat it at a table to properly enjoy it. She even made him promise to eat it only when he could leave Tablia and eat the sherbet on a table. So, he made this promise to her, and just in time, for the next day when Robert had turned seventeen, the woman died due to bad back problems from not having a bed. Robert was left in the town of Tablia without a clue on how to get out. Security was very tight around Tablia. There were soldiers guarding the wall day and night, defending it from humans at all costs might they come. Robert did not know what to do and over the next few days, he became depressed at this feeling of being alone now.

One day, he was sitting in his empty living room watching the television when there was a sudden announcement on the daily Tablia news.

"This just in the Tablia news. There has been reported an escaped killer chair from Chairalie. Please be on the look out and sharpen your the ends of your legs."

Sharpen the ends of your legs? the boy thought. Now what did that mean?
So he got up and walked to his window and looked out. Then he blinked a couple times in disbelief. The tables had been sharpening their legs into points to protect themselves. Normally, they would trample over the invaders, but this was a killer chair. With pointed legs they could fight the killer chair off successfully and if they wanted to, and… they could chip away at Robert's door and break it open so they could fit in finally.

It was then that Robert really had to live in fear. Not just because of the tables, but because of the psychotic chair that was on the loose from Chairalie. He sighed and got up and looked at his sherbet for a long time and hugged it. Then he put it back in the freezer with a frown as he contemplated the troubles of his life. Things seemed very grim after all.

That night, he startlingly awoke, hearing something wrapping at his window, banging on it. So, he got up quickly and ran over to the window. He then blinked a couple times, for clear in his sight trying to get in his house was the killer chair! If he were to go out of his house for help, the tables would kill him, but then here was this chair at his window. The chair grew frustrated and finally dive bombed into his room, breaking the window. The chair quickly flipped up and looked at Robert, who backed up against the wall of his house, scared out of his wits.

However, the chair started speaking gracefully to a panicked Robert and Robert became less frightened. The chair started to explain how he was not a killer chair from Chairalie, but a messenger from Robert's kingdom. Seems the king and queen had found out about the incident (after that, they outlawed drinking alcohol to storks) and set after their son. They sent the most skilled mercenary, the chair, to rescue Robert from Tablia. But, even if it seemed like he was to be saved, how would they leave Tablia? Surely the tables had heard the crash and would be on their way any minute now.

Just then, the chair started telling the prince not to worry because he had hidden wings (please, oh please, don’t ask how). So with that, they walked right out of his house and in front of the gathering tables. The chair spread its wings and Robert hopped on. They both laughed and started to depart and it was then that Robert tried to leap off the chair, because he had forgotten his sherbet! But if he went back now, he would be killed by the riot of angry tables below him, so he had no choice to leave it and his promise behind in Tablia.
So, they went back to Robert's kingdom and all was well. Robert made friends, which he had never had before. One of them was a girl named Adria, whom he talked to all the time and she would show him things about his kingdom. He also visited the chair and found out the chair's nickname he had earned was "Killer". But, something was missing. Sure, he had gotten sherbet, but it didn't seem as good and sweet as he had expected. Maybe it was because he had broke his promise to the woman that took care of him and this made all sherbet taste bitter from there on out.

So, Adria saw that Robert looked a little depressed and she wondered what was wrong. Now strangely, her aunt was a table from Tablia, so she wondered if her aunt might know. So, she snuck into Tablia and visited her aunt. Her aunt was actually a nice table, but Robert would have never known, since he never left his house. While Adria was talking to her aunt, her aunt explained how they had destroyed Robert's house, but before they did, she had found a carton of untouched sherbet in the freezer. Adria thought that must have been it. So,
with that, she took the sherbet and went back to the castle.

Robert was very surprised when Adria came back with the sherbet and she told him all about the situation. He was so happy to see the carton of sherbet, that instead of hugging it, he hugged Adria. With that, he found the best table in the castle and ate the best sherbet in the whole, entire world with his best friend.

Promises, Robert thought, can be so sweet and rewarding.

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Darn it.

Okay, so apparently elfwood.com blew up. If you're not familiar with Elfwood, it is basically an online gallery that people can join to upload their stories and art in science fiction and fantasy galleries. I had a gallery there with both my stories and art on it. The story one contained my old fairy tales, the ones I like that I wanted to fix up and post here. But now it's gone, lost in cyber hell with Elfwood and I feel really bad for them.

When I moved, I didn't get a chance to save them. (Actually, I did, but the disc went bad or something.) I have to write something new and improved now! Bleh. Not that it is entirely a bad thing, but hopefully Elfwood will come back and I can have my stories again. I don't even like Elfwood, if you haven't guessed already. Not because of this incident, but they just have a bunch of moderators who have no consistency in their moderating at all. They wouldn't know the difference between fantasy and science fiction if it hit them in the face with a two hundred and thirty six pound book.

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Weeping Willow

This is a story I wrote in tenth grade. The assignment was to write about a myth, how something was created. I really like willow trees so this is what I came up with. It's been revised a lot since then. It's not as weird as my other ones will be probably, but it sure is a tear jerker, I think.

The girl’s voice was clear and sparkling, like a newly discovered crystal each time she parted her lips and sang that enchanting melody she was so perfect at doing. She sang with all of what her spirit allowed her to remember from the ballad of the past that celebrated this special occasion that came once every fall season when the leaves changed to crimson and gold. Her fluid words told of a struggle to save the forest, the one where the trees tried to cling to life, the adversaries of the area being humans who did not care about cutting and tearing things down if it was in their way. Her people, the gossamer, winged fairies, protected what land they held so dear and in the final decision, their queen enchanted the forest so that any force who so dared to remove a tree from its roots would find their soul wandering aimlessly lost forever. The humans stopped destroying and took more care as to not loose anymore victims. On this evening, the girl, Willow, sang this song of her people and everyone before her listened transfixed, their eyes locked on her form and their ears touched every word.

As if the bells of the heavens themselves stopped ringing, when her song ended, everyone’s heart felt much purer, remembering what their sole purpose was in the land. There was steady applause and Willow dipped softly, bowing on her stage, the butterfly-like wings on her back stretching out behind her slightly in the gesture. A smile spread across her lips as she rose to her full height pleased with what joy she could bring her relatives and family. She didn’t know much in her eleven years of life, but she knew this song was something she cared dearly about to do each and every autumn festival.

When her feet moved from the small stage, people then finally started to get up and celebrate once more. Musical instruments were heard, woodwinds and strings playing uplifting beats as the fairies danced around in rings, the stars in the sky shining as bright as their spirits. Others ate and chatted while Willow herself fell back into the comfort of the forest, her hands folded together in front of her, moving one foot after another as if they knew where to go all along. She left into the comfort of the woods, unaware that a different pair of curious eyes watched her sing tonight from afar.

The forest smelled of fresh rain and out died the joyous song of the festival and in came the tune of the crickets, their repetitive, yet comforting sound filling the air. Every moment she stepped foot onto her homeland seemed more magical then the next, until that hand reached out and swiftly grabbed her arm, making her footsteps stumble in their tracks. She yanked and pulled trying to get away. Some one was hiding behind a bush, trying to pull her towards them and her voice which was so bright tonight, could not be heard anymore. It was lost somewhere in between wanting to scream and the suspense of wanting to know who tried to capture her. In these days, there were those cruel people who hunted fairies for their wings because much magic was held in them, something humans could not possess themselves. In their jealousy they cared not that the separation of a fairies wings from their backs resulted surely enough in death, just that they could have a taste of this power of their own.

But it was not the case. The grip in her arm loosened, making Willow fall back slightly, and the person behind the bush stood slowly on their feet. She looked up, her green eyes changing from scared to curious and then to relieved as her forbidden, human friend revealed himself. The friend she had spent nights running through the forest and playing chasing games with, the one who listened to her songs but was not of her kind, was the one who held his hand out to her now, to help her up and she took it with warmth in her fingertips. She stood back up with perfect posture and with a nod back towards her village, he grinned.

"The song was really pretty," he said looking down at his feet as shy as ever which he usually did when she sang to him. He didn’t know what she sang about was directly against his kind, only that like her people, the song made him feel peaceful.

But they didn’t dwell on the subject of it very long. Instead they were off again, running carefree, the hours going by. She talked about what she did today and about her home, painting him images of a beautiful, rich life with her words. And he listened usually, because he didn’t want to fill her with the dreary landscape that he lived with day by day. Instead, the moon started to fall, and the sun began to climb the horizon, leaving a trail of red and orange behind it as the sky gradually faded into blue, and Willow and the young boy parted ways, both to go back and sleep at the separate worlds they belonged in.

As with the time of fall and after the festival, the fairies began to ready themselves for a frigid winter season where the life in the forest would be covered with a thick, blanket of white snow. Their homes where prepared and their clothing was changed to keep them warm. There were never any fireplaces, because cutting the trees down for wood was unheard of and seen as wrong. Instead, they relied on an inner warmth.

Willow worked diligently on knitting some gloves to keep her hands warm, but her mind couldn’t seem to concentrate and when she remembered the time, she knew her friend would be waiting for her soon enough. This time she seemed to leave in secret, escaping her village into the forest, where they met at their usual spot near their favorite tree. The tree they sat and watched sunrises without a word of speech, was without leaves this morning as the first snowfall began. The boy looked up hopelessly into the bleak, gray sky as his eyes fell vacant and his blonde hair pushed back from his cheeks. Willow watched on as his head seemed to drop into despair.

"You’ve got something to tell me?" she asked.

"Yeah…" he replied. "Winter’s cold."

Her head titled curiously, and her lips faintly lifted into a smile. "I know. But you look so… sad?"

"I, well, there’s no place to go home to ever. I’m alone."

At that moment, she felt sorry for him and for herself for never knowing that he was even so isolated from his own world. She didn’t ever know that he had been left abandoned on orphanage steps when he was five. The orphanage keepers didn’t stand for unruly, adventurous children, especially when their beds were full enough as it was. When they found out he had been sneaking off late at nights to visit his secret friend, they kicked him out and let him on his own.

"See if he learns," they scolded.

But he forgot about it when Willow took him by the hand and said, "Follow me."

And so he did, right into her village, people watching, dropping things and their mouths, faces written with shock and above all things, disgust. Willow bowed her head, but she was not ashamed of the only person she felt a true friend who tagged along with uneasy footsteps. They disappeared beyond the door of her house and Willow sat down to began knitting two pairs of gloves this time. The boy stepped into a corner, where he couldn’t be seen through the windows. Willow opened her mouth to say something, but it was different and she struggled to find comforting words for him. Anyway, even if she did say something, there was a knock on her door and she was summoned to see the queen while her friend waited behind in silence.
The distance she ran carefree with her companion seemed to be shorter in length from the silent trail she followed to the queen’s quarters. When she got there, Willow was not the same person the queen had admired for her songs any longer. She was some one who had broken trust and let a stranger into the pact. He wasn’t just a boy. He was a human, and just as harmful as any other.

"I’m sorry," Willow explained. "He had nowhere to go, and I thought that with that cold winter and all, that well… You see what I mean, you understand, right?" She gazed up at the queen who appeared a mother to all her people, and let her eyes be as forgiving as they could be.

"You know what you have done, correct? This was uncalled for. I should-"

"Please!" Willow said breathlessly. "Just one winter. He’s my friend. I promise, nothing will go wrong."

"Just one winter? If he does anything wrong, he could pay for the consequences with his life. Do you understand?"

"I do," she nodded and her footsteps fell back some, wanting to leave for the embarassment she felt.

"Then… as long as you know, let him be reminded as well."

Willow clasped her hands together and with new light in her eyes, turned and ran all the way back to her home to tell her friend of the news. It was just one winter he would be allowed to stay, but it was one winter that would be better than the rest. She hoped and prayed so anyway.
Winter came in full force and frosted over the land without warning. The days of snow seemed endless and the rebirth of the forest seemed to drag on until forever. Spring was further and further away and inside Willow’s comfortable, little house she suffered from a man made sickness, a cold that she would have never gotten otherwise if she didn’t have a human visitor. She swore she felt fine to ease her troubled friend, but she shivered underneath the covers of her bed, barely able to even talk let alone sing, until her friend could take no longer. He left with the things she had knitted for him with one thing on his mind, the intent to make his friend warm.

An axe was taken from along the human road of a town he recalled begging food for on many occasions. In the blinding snow, he found his way to a tree that he did not know was their favorite, the one that carried the memories of the two children within strong branches. And for as long as he could for as many hours as he kept up his strength, the tree finally fell and firewood was chopped up for his dear friend Willow. When he began to gather it up and leave, his mind felt blank and he knew not where to go. He couldn’t remember which way Willow was or which way the human town was. So, he headed in every direction he could have thought of, circling the forest with numbness that finally made his arms drop, and his little body fall into the snow.

Willow awoke from her illness by a knock and she was taken to the queen again. Her feet seemed to drag on with worry, wondering what the queen wanted. Better yet, her mind swarmed with questions as to where he friend was. He was gone when her eyelids opened. When she got to the queen, she understood, her heart sinking further than her feet and below the earth.

"He’s lost forever," the queen said. "Because of you."

"No…" Willow sobbed, dropping to her knees. "Please, let me do something. Anything I can do to help make things better. It’s all my fault!"

The queen looked down at the girl with drooping wings and felt a pity overcome her, for she knew that soon enough, she would no longer hear this girl’s song. It would be gone with the past fall and some one new would take her place next season. Some bright, strong voice almost as good. No one had ever been as good as Willow.

"You know what you have to do," the queen answered.

Willow nodded and stood, wiping her nose with the back of her hand and looked at the queen with a final apology. Her body turned and moved towards the exit, out past her village, into the forest that led herself to the broken tree. With shaking feet and legs, she stood on top of the tree’s stump and let her arms hang out. Tears slid down her face forever and dropped to the ground beneath her feet. Her auburn hair hung low around her waist as vines began to connect her and the tree stump, climbing up around her body, but she did not move. Bark patched over her skin, arms separated and branched off into many others, and her being lengthened to a tall height that dwarfed nearly all the other trees in the forest in a spirit that resembled the young fairy. From the tops of the transforming tree, long green vines hung down like the curtain of the stage Willow sang on, and once the final leaf formed, Willow’s soul broke and the fallen boy awoke, startled.

He gathered his wood again like nothing had ever came over him and began to remember things. The first thing that came to his mind was Willow and how scared and alone she must feel. He shook his head at himself, wondering how he could have ever seen it fit to nap in the dead of winter. Heading back towards her, he found her not there and with worry and regret inside his heart, he knew she had gone to look for him. So, he left as well.

He searched as long as he could, his body breaking down from the tired feeling in his bones. He finally came to stop at the newly formed tree over their old meeting place, but he did not think much about it. Instead, he sat down, leaning against the strong trunk, and thought to wait for her. One day they would meet here again, he thought, and with that dream in his mind, he fell asleep forever, not knowing that his fairy friend was watching him closely from behind.

The tree stood as vibrant in the winter as it did in the summer and spring and they say on certain days, when the wind blows freely, that Willow’s song can be heard whispering through the vines, singing to her friend that became one with the earth below in his final resting place. She would cry eternally, for as close as they were, she could never touch him again. She could never hold his hand or tell him that she sang only in hopes for him to hear. She would watch, and his soul would dream of when they would meet again and what games they would play when they would come together. On certain occasions, travelers who stopped to rest beneath her cool shade would leave quickly, haunted by the image they swore they saw of a girl’s face inside the tree bark. They left feeling as sad and lost as both children were in their meeting place at the end of their mortal lives. And so they called her the Weeping Willow.

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