Welcome to Gaia! ::

@ Lemon: Your story was good. Although the only thing is, as I was reading it, it sounded a lot like a part in "The Phantom of the Opera". The part where Madame Giry finds the Phantom and rescues him. That is the only thing I can really find wrong with it. Otherwise this, your story is very good. I liked reading it.

@ Stasi: Your story was good as well. I enjoyed it very much. It needs more detail however. I didn't really get too into it. I'm not saying it's bad, but it just needs a little more. I liked how you ended it though. It makes me want to hear more about what Sidney exactly does.

@ Subtle: I liked your story as well. It was nice reading a story with your interpretations of Greek mythology. I was a little confused at times, but this is because on my own free time, I study Greek, Roman, Egyptian, and Norse mythology. I thought it interesting that Icarus was the holder of the Earth, rather than the Titan Atlas. That's what I love about the creativity of writing. Good job.

Poem #1
It spells Carrousel using the first letters of each line.
I don't know why, but i'm infatuated with Merry-go-rounds. I guess I find them eerie in a way, which is what I was trying to get across.


Cruelly captive to their confined expressions,
Amongst the loud laughter of an innocent invention
Round and ‘round, restless
Runners tread ominously without a sound.
Occupants of a counterfeit collection.
Unheard screams projected:
Slaves to the Merry-Go-Round. Wearied participants
Engaged in an endless race of chipping paint.
Leniently lullaby their fixed expressions.

I am very impressed with all the short story entries so far. I have several favorites, for different reasons, some for the story, some for the characters. It's going to be difficult for me to pick 1 overall winner.

So can you enter like, say, a short chapter from a story you've been working on? I've been wondering about that if so I'd post it for the short story. And I hope some violence and blood will be ok, if not I can do some edits maybe. Just lemme know. sweatdrop

||I made this one last year||

Poetry #2:Ǻ s ĥ ē s Łŏ À s ĥ ē s
By: The Subtle Lord or Hope

Its raining ashes,
Just like black snow,
They start to erase,
Everything I know.

But when the ashes come pouring down,
They begin to kill,
Without a sound.
Many put their parasols up,
But that is simply not enough,
Because when its ashes to ashes,
We all fall down.

We all watch the ashes rain,
But before we die,
We feel no pain.
And who is dead and who is not,
Because all the corpses begin to rot.

And as the ashes rain down,
I begin to die without a sound,
And when I begin to fall down,
They laugh at me,
As I pound the ground.

And when I give my last breath,
I close my eyes and begin to rest.
Because when ashes turn to ashes,
We all fall down.
Dead.

short story : like a romeo and juliet just not quite
the only reason it is all spans over one day is because well the limit was 2001 words for the thing I was writing it for. tis the only reason why it was rushed at the end 3nodding

‘She lay on the ground next to a young man and raised her head at a noise near the door. Brushing back her hair she reached over his body for a shard of the mirror that they broke earlier. Raising the sharp tool to her wrist she brought it down, leaving a red jagged line across her arm. Movements already slowing she moved to the next one, wavering slightly as she did so. With both wrists bleeding she curled up next to his body offering them warmth during her last...’

Waking up from my dream with a start, I looked over at my alarm clock giving off a small groan as I realized what time it was. Sitting I stretched my arms and replayed the dream in my head. This wasn’t the first time I have had this dream. If it had been I wouldn’t be as worried. It is very dark and at first, it is as if I am a different person which changes quickly and I become that lady who slits her wrists.

"Alice, come down and eat breakfast before you go to school," my mother called, disrupting my thoughts.

"Ok, mom," I reply, "let me change first." I didn't wait for an answer as I ran to the bathroom with my clothes and took a shower. Resuming my train of thought I concluded that I would not consider myself the kind of person who hates life. In fact, I really enjoy life. What really bothers me about the dream was that I became a person who took her life willingly.

Dressed in my new school clothes – black, black and, oh wait, nope, just more black- I marched down the stairs to be greeted by the smell of eggs, bacon, and pancakes. I wrinkled my nose in disgust at the over smelt breakfast combination.

“You ready to go to your new school?” my father questioned through the newspaper. I grumble a response that could go either way. He leaned the paper down and smiled at me, “I will take that as a yes.” His reply is mixed with the ruffles of the newspaper as he handed me the ‘funnies’. Grinning I search out my favorite comic ‘Rose is a Rose’. Just as I finished reading all of the comics a hand reached over the top of it to replace them with food.

“You excited Alice? This school will be great, I promise,” my mother chirped enthusiastically. A grunt from behind the paper confirmed what side he was on. Rolling my eyes I grabbed some bacon and a pancake while strapping on my backpack. I headed out the door after having finished most of what I grabbed. I worked my way around the garden to grab my bike.

While riding down the driveway I could hear my parents calling from the door telling me to have fun and be safe at school. The new house wasn’t far from the school so I was able to make it there in about twenty minutes. Because I was gawking at the size of the building and not watching where I was going my bike rammed into the curb which sent me over the handlebars. After brushing off and inspecting the bike for damage I look up to find that some guy was staring at me. I jumped about five feet back as he put out his hand to shake; my mind went into a frenzy. ‘Who is he? Why is he here? And why does he look like that guy from my dreams?’

The first two questions were answered quickly, “Hi,” his face lifted into a bright smile. “My name is Alex. I’m a freshman here at this school.” At the last bit he made a long sweeping gesture at the building behind him.

Taking his offered hand I pulled myself up. Wiping the dirt off my clothes yet again I gave him an equally bright smile, “I’m Alice. I am also a freshman and also new to this school,” my face dropped into a frown. His laugh was a small tinkling one, almost as if a small bell was rung and put in place of what would have come out of his mouth.

“I’ll show you around just let me see your schedule,” the laughter in his eyes grew as his eyes swept the page. “Guess what?” he asked while waving the paper in my face. “You are in all of my classes.” The smile engulfing his face made its way over to mine. Next thing I know we are chaining my bike and heading into the school.

With Alex leading us we made it to the classroom early giving me a chance to meet the teacher and find an empty seat next to my new friend. After role call the teacher called me up to the front of the class to say a few things to my new classmates.

“Hello, my name is Alice,” I shot a smile at the collected students “I am obviously new here,” I paused and got a chuckle from a few of the students in the back. “I really hope we can all be good friends.” I looked over at Alex who gave me a thumb up. Heading back to my seat I let out a huge breath of air. Public speaking is not my strong point.

The rest of the day went exactly like first period. I used the same introduction in all the classes trying to keep a straight face every time I looked over at Alex. Meeting with the teachers after each class Alex told all of them that he would be responsible for catching me up. By the end of the day we were both visibly exhausted.

Lounging out on the grass we talked about each other, getting to know the other person better. After about half an hour of talking we could both hear a honking noise coming from the road. Propped up on my elbows I could see a middle aged man waving from a truck. Looking to my right at Alex I noticed that he was waving back at the man.

“Hey dad,” Alex yelled over to the man in the truck who was waving enthusiastically. He hooked his thumb at me “She just moved here. Can she come over?” Alex asked still yelling.

“Sure, it’s fine by me,” his father’s smile reminded me of Alex’s. After yelling out my gratitude I called up my parents and left a message on the machine, because, of course no one is home at this time. The ride to Alex’s house was a lot of fun. His father turned the radio as loud as it would go and all three of us sang our lungs out.

By the time we arrived at his house I had learned that Alex’s father was a writer who submitted stories to the local newspaper regularly. Alex grabbed me lightly at my wrist and dragged me into the house stealing some snacks on our way up the stairs.

Kicking his door open the rest of the way he lead me into his room where I collapsed to the floor. Wide eyed I stared around the room. Opposite the door was his bed, sitting to the right of the door was a table that had a frame on top of it, almost as if there used to be glass or a mirror. Dumping the stuff on his bed he came over to see if I was alright. After recovering from the shock of the familiarity of the room I gave him a big smile and told him yes lying so that we would be able to enjoy the time set aside for studying. After throwing some loose papers into the air I stretched and groaned. I was mentally dead for the day. While laughing at me he continued on with the last math problem.

I followed Alex down to the kitchen. I got to meet his mom, who handed us a few cookies and a two glasses of milk. After licking the crumbs off our faces Alex told me about the history of his house. I turned pale as he explained the causes for the two deaths that happened at the house. During a family feud in the fifties two kids from opposite families fell in love, basically a Romeo and Juliet story except for the fact that the father shot the son and the girl killed herself over his body by slitting her wrists. Seeing how sick I looked he stopped talking and handed me a glass of water that sat untouched on the table.

Still shaking at the knees I biked home after declining the ride from Alex’s father. After I arrived back at my house I ignored the usual parental questions and flopped on my bed. As I shook my head violently I attempted to sort my thoughts. When that failed miserably I pulled out my notebook from my backpack wrote down what I knew: I continued for the next half hour to write down everything and anything that came to mind. Finally, after it was all compiled on paper, I set it down on my bed and made my way down the stairs for a snack and a much deserved break.

After clearing my head by watching a few hours of television I went back into my room to take another look at the paper. Once in my room I found that my parents were already in there and were going over the paper I had written. Hearing me enter they turned in my direction with their faces full of malice.

After throwing the paper down my mother stormed from the room. My father gripped my shoulders, “Who the hell have you been hanging out with?” my father asked, absolutely outraged. I stammered out Alex’s name scared for my life. His face contorted to that of a mad man. He pulled me down the stairs and threw me on the couch.

“Do you know who those people are?” he asked, his tone still harsh. Shaking my head I rubbed the elbow that I had landed on. “Those people are the reason we had to move out here. They are the reason I have lost my job; they are the enemy.” He paced across the room until my mother appeared in the door way. My father forced me into the car. He hurriedly roared up the engine and gunned down the driveway.

As we neared the ‘enemy’s’ house my stomach started churning crazily. Glaring at me through the car window my father gruffly ordered me to get out of the car. Obeying reluctantly I followed them to the door the color draining from my face with every step. Alex’s mother answered the door, realization dawned on her features. She called to her husband as she ran back into the house, but left the door open in her flight. My parents marched into the house uninvited.

Once again being dragged I was forced to follow them into the house. When I saw Alex’s mother’s grim face a few tears came to the corners of my eyes. In the back of my mind I was starting to realize that this will end like my dream. My body went into auto pilot. I ended up in the living room in front of my parents as if a shield for the two. There was shouting inaudible to my deaf ears. The entire time Alex’s and my eyes were locked unmoving, unwavering.

Next thing I knew we were forced into Alex’s room and locked in, though we were still able to hear the shouting from downstairs. Alex put his arm around me for comfort. It was obvious that it was really freaking him out. His father came in with his mother attempting to pull her husband away. With tears in his eyes his father pulled out a gun. “I am sorry, son,” his father apologized, a tear running down his cheek; “if they were to get a hold of you I wouldn’t be able to promise a better death.” Screwing his eyes shut his father took a wild shot which blew out the window.

His shrieking mother attempted to stop her husband from trying to kill their son. Taking careful aim at his petrified son he fired, which sent a bullet into Alex’s chest. He crumpled to the floor and gasped for air. After seeing his parents rush out of the room to more shouting down stairs I went over to Alex’s body to see if I could plug up the hole some how. Tears flowed freely from my eyes as his breathing slowed and became shallower.

Crying over his now still body I knew what to do to finish this. I reached over his body. I grabbed a large shard of glass from the shattered window. Tensing up my body I brought it down on my wrist which left a jagged red line. I let out a huge gasp of air from the pain. I moved the shard over to the next arm, relaxed this time and repeated the action. After throwing away the tool and watching it shatter on the door I draped my body over his. Laying there, vision blurring slowly I let out my last breathe with a shudder running down my spine.

DARKNESS IN ME

The darkness of this world overshadows all the light;
The classic struggle of good and bad is the battle that we fight.
No one knows just when it starts,
But this battle rages in the heart.

The radiance of love is lost in struggles every day,
When so many people are wandering and get lost along the way.
They become the outcasts--disheartened and dismayed;
The ones who once had loved them have led them all astray.

There's a fire burning deep inside,
The flames are getting hard to hide.
This fire burns within my heart,
And I know not when it will depart.

Darkness is such a scary world to live in all alone,
The fears that crowd the mind at times, the heart cannot condone.
Anger fans the flames of hate, which spreads and slowly wins,
For a heart that hurts cannot control or quench this fire within.

This fire burns both day and night,
It's a constant battle--a constant fight.
No one knows just when it starts,
But this battle rages in the heart.