Post by Audie Smith on May 17, 2005 14:21:27 GMT -5
Ok here's the second chapter and I would have to say my favorite so far. I was listening to the soundtrack to Schindler's List while writing it so *shrugs* I don't know it helped I guess.
Disclamer- I own nothing.
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*)-To be different in this age is not acceptable you should be just like every one else a, robot of the government. But there are the ones that are different, isn’t that what makes a country great the many different believes, race, languages obviously not. People were being killed off like deer but not because of what they did but who they are. Just like you. Now let’s get back to our fairy tale-(*
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There’s too much for you to think your heart holds pain, loss, confusion, anger, nothing. Knowing that your parents are dead tears you up in side. You ask the same questions. Why? Why did they do this? What was to be gained? That’s an easy one, nothing. Nothing was to be gained from the brutally slaughter of your family.
Sitting in this room for what seemed like years but was only probably days. Knowing you’d never see your mother sitting in the ‘sitting’ room stitching the blood red rose onto the white as snow cloth or hear your fathers crude jokes only made to make you laugh. Sitting in this room you’ve come to realize you never really thought of what would happen if you lost them but now that you have lost them it feels like you can never go on. That life has no purpose for you if your whole life was to crash in around you in a bloody heap of death and despair.
But god must have had something in store for you, for why where you the only one left in the cold, damp, dark room set at protecting the life of the one that is in side it? Did your father know? He must have, you still hear his words ringing through your head like the ringing of the old church bell ‘Never give up faith (y/n) never give up hope you hear me?’ Yes father you heard him but why, why is the question you ask over and over again as you lay on the gray bed in the deathly quiet room.
‘I want to give up hope. I have no faith left for tomorrow. With out you there will be no tomorrow for you for this country.’ Sitting up from your former position you set your feet to the floor it freezes your toes thru your woolen stockings. You had taken of the shoes for they clicked when you walked and that would only bring attention to your self. ‘But I won’t give up hope and I will have faith for you father I’ll hold on to what you said just for you.’<br>
Sighing in despair ‘Why can’t my life be like that of the fairy tale stories I’ve read. Why can’t I have a normal life?’ well the answer to that is no life is normal there are always the ups and downs the fairy tales that we read of the princess and the prince falling madly in love and there lives becoming perfect is just made by a bunch of old people who want the same thing you do, for it to be real.
How many times have you looked at that wall, traced the patterns in the floor. You know if you make a sound they’ll find you they’ll find you and kill you. Oh what great pleasure they would take in watching your head fall into the basket on the other side of the guillotine seeing the last tears you shed fall down your face dripping painfully silent into the bottom of the basket. But you won’t give them that pleasure, oh how you want to see your mother and father again but you’ll wait till it’s your rightful time to go and not give those heathens the pleasure of watching you die.
Tears, you cried all through the night all through the day or what felt like night and day for which you can’t tell. Your tears have run them self’s dry, you couldn’t cry if you tried now all that’s left is the pain in your heart but the will in your mind to move on. Sliding to the floor by your bed you again trace the lines in the floor for what seems like the thousandth time. Spotting an ant crawling over a crack in the floor you start to block his path to what ever destination he’s headed. ‘What would it be like to be an ant? I definitely wouldn’t be here tracing patterns in this room playing with ants.’<br>
‘I envy you ant. Your life seems so…so easy compared to what I’ve been through so far. Lets just pray that it gets better’ taking your hand out of the way of the ant you watch as he scurries down through a crack in the floor leaving you behind wishing you could follow. Leaning your head back so you can look at the ceiling more thoughts cross your mind but none to important just memories of the past to painful to dwell upon.
You have amazing hearing now. At least you think you do. It’s like a deer being hunted it listens with clear concentration for it knows it’s being preyed upon. Just like you, you know you’re being preyed upon your just now clearly concentrating, you’re the deer. Snapping your head forward looking at the adjacent wall you slowly stand up. Your woolen stockings gliding you over the rough wooden floor.
Standing in front of the paneled door that only you know is there you press your ear to it. You are correct for the deer is always correct when it’s time is almost up. Footsteps they have finally come back to research your house, destroying everything in there sight but still not finding their deer.
Carefully listening you hear them enter your fathers study. ‘How many times have they searched that study, they could have taken any thing yet they search for just one thing. You’re their deer.’ Backing away from the door silently so as not to alert them to your presence you hear the footsteps come right up to the hidden door. Do they know your there now are you finally caught.
“*Something in Japanese*” you frown what was that? These are definitely not your countrymen. Then who could they be are they good another deer to help this lonely lost one or bad the cougar who has finally found its dinner? You hear the people on the other side of the door prying open the door your eyes widening every second it takes them to open the door. ‘How did they find you? Could you trust them? No! No, nobody was worth anybody’s trust anymore.’<br>
The door is finally pried open by these unknown deer or are they cougars? You want to scream but would that do any good could that help at all? Standing before you are four men dressed in the gaudiest outfits you have ever seen a person wear. The tallest of the four had orange hair and beady little eyes that you could not make out the color he was wearing a blue what you thought to be jumpsuit he was also the most un-attractive of the four. Next there was a boy with black hair slick back with what you thought to be some type of grease substance that gave it sheen he had brown as dirt eyes and wore a green ‘jumpsuit’. Standing next to him was the second tallest he had long red hair, a slightly feminine face but with the most beautiful vert eyes you have ever seen he also wore a ‘jumpsuit’ only in the color of light maroon. Last was the shortest but by what you could tell by looking the fiercest one he had midnight black hair that defied every law of gravity know to man with a white starburst right in the center and the most coldest, harshest blood red eyes you had ever had the grace to look upon. He wore all black down to his shoes except for the white bandana around his forehead and the white scarf around is next.
You where frightened out of your self. Were they here to help or were they here to kill. Finally after having contest of who can look at who the longest you gather up the courage in your already broken heart you ask just one question. “Qui êtes-vous?” your voice sounding raspy and un-used. They don’t answer you and you feel dread come upon you they may not be hear to help they may just be hear for dinner.
*)-Not All Fairy Tales Are Good Fairy Tales-(*
(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*
-Longer than the first but oh well what ever. I hoped you liked reading this story as much as I liked making it *laughs*.
Disclamer- I own nothing.
(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*
*)-To be different in this age is not acceptable you should be just like every one else a, robot of the government. But there are the ones that are different, isn’t that what makes a country great the many different believes, race, languages obviously not. People were being killed off like deer but not because of what they did but who they are. Just like you. Now let’s get back to our fairy tale-(*
(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*
There’s too much for you to think your heart holds pain, loss, confusion, anger, nothing. Knowing that your parents are dead tears you up in side. You ask the same questions. Why? Why did they do this? What was to be gained? That’s an easy one, nothing. Nothing was to be gained from the brutally slaughter of your family.
Sitting in this room for what seemed like years but was only probably days. Knowing you’d never see your mother sitting in the ‘sitting’ room stitching the blood red rose onto the white as snow cloth or hear your fathers crude jokes only made to make you laugh. Sitting in this room you’ve come to realize you never really thought of what would happen if you lost them but now that you have lost them it feels like you can never go on. That life has no purpose for you if your whole life was to crash in around you in a bloody heap of death and despair.
But god must have had something in store for you, for why where you the only one left in the cold, damp, dark room set at protecting the life of the one that is in side it? Did your father know? He must have, you still hear his words ringing through your head like the ringing of the old church bell ‘Never give up faith (y/n) never give up hope you hear me?’ Yes father you heard him but why, why is the question you ask over and over again as you lay on the gray bed in the deathly quiet room.
‘I want to give up hope. I have no faith left for tomorrow. With out you there will be no tomorrow for you for this country.’ Sitting up from your former position you set your feet to the floor it freezes your toes thru your woolen stockings. You had taken of the shoes for they clicked when you walked and that would only bring attention to your self. ‘But I won’t give up hope and I will have faith for you father I’ll hold on to what you said just for you.’<br>
Sighing in despair ‘Why can’t my life be like that of the fairy tale stories I’ve read. Why can’t I have a normal life?’ well the answer to that is no life is normal there are always the ups and downs the fairy tales that we read of the princess and the prince falling madly in love and there lives becoming perfect is just made by a bunch of old people who want the same thing you do, for it to be real.
How many times have you looked at that wall, traced the patterns in the floor. You know if you make a sound they’ll find you they’ll find you and kill you. Oh what great pleasure they would take in watching your head fall into the basket on the other side of the guillotine seeing the last tears you shed fall down your face dripping painfully silent into the bottom of the basket. But you won’t give them that pleasure, oh how you want to see your mother and father again but you’ll wait till it’s your rightful time to go and not give those heathens the pleasure of watching you die.
Tears, you cried all through the night all through the day or what felt like night and day for which you can’t tell. Your tears have run them self’s dry, you couldn’t cry if you tried now all that’s left is the pain in your heart but the will in your mind to move on. Sliding to the floor by your bed you again trace the lines in the floor for what seems like the thousandth time. Spotting an ant crawling over a crack in the floor you start to block his path to what ever destination he’s headed. ‘What would it be like to be an ant? I definitely wouldn’t be here tracing patterns in this room playing with ants.’<br>
‘I envy you ant. Your life seems so…so easy compared to what I’ve been through so far. Lets just pray that it gets better’ taking your hand out of the way of the ant you watch as he scurries down through a crack in the floor leaving you behind wishing you could follow. Leaning your head back so you can look at the ceiling more thoughts cross your mind but none to important just memories of the past to painful to dwell upon.
You have amazing hearing now. At least you think you do. It’s like a deer being hunted it listens with clear concentration for it knows it’s being preyed upon. Just like you, you know you’re being preyed upon your just now clearly concentrating, you’re the deer. Snapping your head forward looking at the adjacent wall you slowly stand up. Your woolen stockings gliding you over the rough wooden floor.
Standing in front of the paneled door that only you know is there you press your ear to it. You are correct for the deer is always correct when it’s time is almost up. Footsteps they have finally come back to research your house, destroying everything in there sight but still not finding their deer.
Carefully listening you hear them enter your fathers study. ‘How many times have they searched that study, they could have taken any thing yet they search for just one thing. You’re their deer.’ Backing away from the door silently so as not to alert them to your presence you hear the footsteps come right up to the hidden door. Do they know your there now are you finally caught.
“*Something in Japanese*” you frown what was that? These are definitely not your countrymen. Then who could they be are they good another deer to help this lonely lost one or bad the cougar who has finally found its dinner? You hear the people on the other side of the door prying open the door your eyes widening every second it takes them to open the door. ‘How did they find you? Could you trust them? No! No, nobody was worth anybody’s trust anymore.’<br>
The door is finally pried open by these unknown deer or are they cougars? You want to scream but would that do any good could that help at all? Standing before you are four men dressed in the gaudiest outfits you have ever seen a person wear. The tallest of the four had orange hair and beady little eyes that you could not make out the color he was wearing a blue what you thought to be jumpsuit he was also the most un-attractive of the four. Next there was a boy with black hair slick back with what you thought to be some type of grease substance that gave it sheen he had brown as dirt eyes and wore a green ‘jumpsuit’. Standing next to him was the second tallest he had long red hair, a slightly feminine face but with the most beautiful vert eyes you have ever seen he also wore a ‘jumpsuit’ only in the color of light maroon. Last was the shortest but by what you could tell by looking the fiercest one he had midnight black hair that defied every law of gravity know to man with a white starburst right in the center and the most coldest, harshest blood red eyes you had ever had the grace to look upon. He wore all black down to his shoes except for the white bandana around his forehead and the white scarf around is next.
You where frightened out of your self. Were they here to help or were they here to kill. Finally after having contest of who can look at who the longest you gather up the courage in your already broken heart you ask just one question. “Qui êtes-vous?” your voice sounding raspy and un-used. They don’t answer you and you feel dread come upon you they may not be hear to help they may just be hear for dinner.
*)-Not All Fairy Tales Are Good Fairy Tales-(*
(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*~~~(*
-Longer than the first but oh well what ever. I hoped you liked reading this story as much as I liked making it *laughs*.