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 Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2009 3:28 pm
"S o m e t i m e s T h e D a r k n e s s I s U n b e a r a b l e, B u t A N e c e s s a r y E v i l." ✙✈ ✉ ✌ ✁ ✎ ✐ ❀ {♥} ✰ ❁ ❤ ❥ ❦❧ ➳ ➽ «« т н є η i g h t m a r e D i a r y
Penelope Bourbon has a famous name and nothing else. An ordinary apartment, a dieing fern, a runaway stray cat and a pile of unpaid bills. Taking the bus to a nine to five job she hates and loves in a wrapped up little package, atop, a shiney red bow. Maybe her smile is a little fake, and perhaps she really doesn't look interested in what you are talking about. Truth be told, you hit the nail right on the head. Penelope's life begins the instant she closes her eyes and enters a world she is familiar with but finds all too foreign in and of itself. Sleep brings out the worst in lost souls, bearing witness to death unimaginable, but everyone wants something; Penelope just has to find out what that is before they take her to the threshold of no return. They say you learn lessons best when experienced first hand, however, you have no claim to fame with your own until you hear Penelope's. They don't call them nitemares for nothing...
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Table of Contents
♥ Part I.. Bear
♥ Part II.. Reaping Willow
♥ Part III.. Three Past Three
♥ Part IV.. Maybe He Comes
♥ Part V.. 1408
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Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2009 3:29 pm
"S o m e t i m e s T h e D a r k n e s s I s U n b e a r a b l e, B u t A N e c e s s a r y E v i l." ✙✈ ✉ ✌ ✁ ✎ ✐ ❀ {♥} ✰ ❁ ❤ ❥ ❦❧ ➳ ➽ «« т н є η i g h t m a r e D i a r y
Part I...Bear
Barren feet made a discordant melody as they made their way toward a rather sickly looking room. Dimly decorated with but a 1970's style lamp, masses of dust collecting books that had either been read a million times before or gifts that had not been thoroughly thought out enough, and the plain Jane had not the heart to toss them to the garbage heap just yet. A few picture frames with a shiny sort of feel to them had been hung about in an unfashionable order nor had time been taken to remove the photographs that had come with the frames at the time of purchase. Penelope Bourbon was not one of those girls that had many friends, giving her no actual reason to put forth the effort in making her homestead as nice as some. In her opinion, the photographs provided were just how she imagined herself if she was in their shoes, why delude her dreams just because it was not the way things were done in the real world? It did not matter. Penelope was not one who actually lived in the real world, in fact, not even in a world at all. The very first time her dreams became a serious reality was the most interesting night of her life. Mayhap she was a bit frightened, perhaps shaken up as well, however, she did learn to accept that which she had no control over, and when they, those people whose lives had already passed on, ventured into the depths of her mind and invaded her dreams, Penelope accepted them.
Tonight would be no different, aside from the characters she met; it always started the same...
The pearly white face of the great full moon gazed down dreamily, the few remaining clouds have given up their feeble attempts to cover this massive star’s godly glow; disappearing into the abyss far beyond the horizon. It was a cool night, the grasses swaying side to side in a melodramatic dance, almost every strand in perfect unison. Peace and tranquility lay together over the land, and every crevice of this tiny down trodden planet succumbed to them. As earth fell deeper into an unfathomable sleep, the stars garnished the velvet sky, exploding into plain sight with indescribable splendor. The image was something out of a Vincent van Gogh painting, all the colors tango dancing onto the canvas of earth creating a harmonious masterpiece even he would be proud of.
In the gentle hush of sleep, the living locked their doors and turned themselves in for the night, awaiting the hassles that sunrise would convey. Earth would once again open its arms to chaos and movement. The people had very few choices in this life and the next, to either keep moving in turn, or be left in the wake of its absence; the group that could not grasp this concept were very recognizable, a collection of odds and ends the greater portion of society cares nothing about. These are your average drifters, losers, homeless, drug dealers, and in some cases, even war veterans. This planet was notorious for insisting its select few people to give their lives, only to return with nothing short of a cold shoulder. What a noble world this has turned out to be... But those who are valuable enough to escape the eternal clutches of destiny will only rest tonight in triumph, and continue on their chaotic lives until the day they die. A cycle of birth, chaos, and death, not a single person on earth ever breaks from that.
Penelope permitted herself to leave the sanctuary of her bedroom into the dead of night, her sheer night gown flowing behind her like a bride’s veil. Her long white golden locks shimmered in the moon’s light, her eyes fixated at the dirt path just feet in front of her. Her instinct was guiding her through the hours of darkness; her curiosity fueled by visions of deja vu. It was the middle of August on a cold night; all was soundless, aside from the resonance of her own name being whispered into the hollowing winds. Her soul rose from her porcelain body, still, as it lay motionless in deep sleep. She looked down from where she stood to glimpse one last time at her sleeping body, her chest still heaving up and down; a simple yet effective reminder that she remained alive and thriving. She turned, and followed the strange call to her door, and let herself into the gloom of the night, the moon full breasted in the sky. It was always that way when she dreamt, as if to stare down at her with watchful and skeptical eyes. She crossed the vacant wasteland she often called her front yard, and onto the trail leading to a small forest behind her home.
During the summer she could hear the muffled laughter of children, as they played their adolescent games, and splashed into the chilled river that ran completely through the perimeter of her neighborhood. Her small town was identified by it’s scattered forests, fresh clean water, and for the farm lands that stretched on for what seemed to be endless miles. It was a perfect town to conceal what you wished the world not to discover.
Her dream self entered the diminutive excuse for a forest, the sounds of the autumn leaves echoing through the region with every step taken. The voice, though far off in the distance when this excursion began, was now clearly comprehendible, as if just in arms reach. The voice itself was shrill and persistent, instead of calling to her; it was demanding her presence, like a child for its mother’s attention and care.
She compelled herself further into the tiny fortress of trees, until Penelope entered a copious clearing, the great moon above providing the perfect light, as every inch of the clearing was consumed by it.
“Penelope…” The voice spoke to her once more, and she could see at last the creature who had been diligently calling. It was a young boy, ten years of age, by the look of his tiny disposition he couldn't be much older than that. His frail body was covered only by a long shirt, and a pair of overly large white socks, stained from what one could guess was hours of trekking in the mud. The boy turned and began to continue further into the woods; Penelope inaugurated that this small patch of trees was seemingly larger and more expanded then she remembered it to be.
“Wait!” Penelope yelled to him, lunging forward to grab his arm before he could elude her grasp further. “Please, why do you keep calling me? What do you want from me?” She took hold of both of the boy’s shoulders, and looked at him in the face for the first time. His eyes were milky white, huge gashes as deep as knife wounds painted the horrific story of this child’s fate. Penelope gasped, releasing her hold, and took two minute steps back.
“You stole it! You took it! Give it back! The boy reached for her, his hands stretched out like the branches of a willow tree. She stuttered backwards, tripping over her own feet and fell to the cold forest floor. This calm serene vision was spiraling into a gruesome nightmare. Without warning more outstretched hands reached for her. Penelope forced herself to her feet, and backed away from the hungry hands, each belonging to a disfigured child. Penelope watched as they poured into the clearing like water from a broken dam. Children of all races and ages, with more afflictions than Penelope dared count, forced themselves closer to her. Broken or missing limbs, disembowelment, scars, gashes, bruises, and some had large perforations strait through their tiny figures; such a vision brought tears to Penelope’s eyes. Despite their ailments, she could not find it in her heart to tear through them; all of this seemed too real. The scrawny disfigured arms seized anything on Penelope they could, hair, clothes, even her arms and legs. She fought them off, striving to cause as little harm to them as she could muster. But her efforts were in vein, for even though they were feeble and spindly, their strength outmatched her own. Penelope let out a long cry of fear as they pulled her down, unable to move her arms and legs; their eyes staring down at her, like little red lasers from a sniper rifle. The land began to spin, so fast that the color red was all that Penelope could make out. "Let go! I haven't taken anything!" The female's voice rang loudly over the muffled moans these strange children had been diligently emanating. There was no reason to end her existence in this moment and Penelope raised her arm and threw a small body to the side giving her a clear shot out of the mess, as larger wads of her hair were torn from her head; any more of this and she would be bald in a matter of seconds.
Penelope's hands scraped at the dirt path until tree roots allowed her to pull her body from the mass and out of harm's way. With a deep heavy sigh her feet carried her further away from those horrible little vermin though she had no idea where she was to go next. Obviously all of this running is useless if she has no direction, soon she would tire and escape would be impossible. The moon was now obscured by drifting, gray clouds the land about her dark and her eyes squinted through the shadows for any sign of her new, little playmates. For her sake, they were no where in sight, but that did not halt her legs, which were growing hot with every stretch of mile that was traveled. "This is getting me no where..." Thoughts hounded like a barking dog chained up in a used car lot. If she was going to get out of this scenery, she would need to find the key to all of this, what it was that kept these creatures bound to this existence. "They said you had taken something, what are they missing? Other than limbs and parents.." Smirking, Penelope met face to face with a white hued building, a large golden bell sitting atop like some monument to whatever edifice this stood for.
Swings, merry-go-rounds and see-saws gave away the secrecy of this place; a school house. Of course, Penelope had not seen one of this age in a great many years, mayhap her great grandfather might have attended one, but as it stood, they had been closed down years ago since the dawning of public schools. Her first bet was to search the play yard for any sign of something lost, even kicking up the sand did not bring her further in reaching any kind of safety. "If only I knew what you all were looking for!" She yelled out loud, still angry at herself for having been given this strange gift in the first place.
Right on cue, through angered eyes, Penelope saw the little boy who had initially reached out for her attention, and though he had gotten it, he seemed disinterested in receiving her help the easy way. But of course, in these kinds of situations, when was it ever easy? Sighing, the girl knew that she would soon see the others and as if able to read her own thoughts, rows upon rows of those little disfigured children carried themselves from the shadows and revealed their awkward appearances to not only the night but to Penelope who could not bare to look at them. Red eyes stared only at Penelope whose heart was racing faster than a galloping horse in a state race. "Oh god." Hollowed calls broke the chilling silence, and without thinking her shoeless feet drug her to the school house, locking the door as immediately the sound of pounding fists echoed through the four tiny walls that she knew would collapse in but a few short years.
Glass was the next sound as it shattered and limbs of all sizes reached through, moments later Penelope would be covered in frail bodies if she did not take a much closed off position; the spare closet. The door slammed behind her and a wooden chair fit perfectly underneath the knob. With chest heaving in and out rapidly like the waves of the troubled ocean, the girl looked around for something she could use to defend herself, now was not the time to worry about injuring children that were no longer alive, and it wasn't as if one more wound was going to kill them. Boxes were thrown left and right, as the front door to the school house was finally breached, the pitter patter of feet could be heard over the wooden floor boards which moaned over the mass amount of pressure and weight now being applied to them even after so many years of being left alone. The door to the closet was now being rocked back and forth in an attempt to be opened, but the lock was holding; for now. Wood paneling from the wall behind her frightened form fell and knocked over a brown box still untouched in her frantic searching, nearly missing her head by inches. Red eyes filled the oblivion that could be seen through that miniscule crack, just as another panel fell from the door and the sight of broken hands and fingers made their way through, reaching with everything in them to get the woman they thought to have wronged them.
"I don't know what you want! You have to tell me! I can help you!" Screaming, Penelope was dragged to the ground by her hair once again, a hand having reached for her and achieved its goal.
"You stole it from us. We want it back." The voices rang in unison, frightfully eerie in the moonlit night.
"Stole what? What did I steal?" Penelope questioned back, still unable to peace together what it was they were searching for, what they had thought she stole. But there it was in the lost a found bin. The only toy in this whole stupid closet, and as her body was pulled closer towards the reaching hands, her own reached for the stuffed toy taking a hold of it by the strands of its left ear. Without warning, her hands shoved the furry creature into the mass of flesh in hopes of silencing them for but a few moments to give her time to prepare her next move. But with eyes shut, Penelope could hear nothing. Just the silence most nights like these orchestrated through them.
And as soon as Penelope opened her eyes, there was her bed again, the sheets drawn up over her shoulders, the feeling of warmth on her toes, since having put socks on just before falling entirely to slumber. Rising, the clock next to her flickered 2 A.M. over and over again in a florescent green hue. Beads of sweat lined the brim of her forehead allowing her feet to touch the cold floor below and made a break for the bathroom. Just before reaching the hallway, a figure loomed in entryway to the living room, its arms cradling a furry creature she could not forget for the life of her. His smile was charming now that he was not scarred from head to toe, and Penelope's glittering eyes watch him disappear into the darkness.
It just goes to show, sometimes even the small things matter. Brown fuzzy bears to young boys are what golden crowns are to kings. Better to treasure the smallest of matters, who knows what you are going to miss later on. Penelope signs her name at the bottom of her diary. And the nitemare continues on…
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Table of Contents
♥ Part I.. Bear
♥ Part II.. Reaping Willow
♥ Part III.. Three Past Three
♥ Part IV.. Maybe He Comes
♥ Part V.. 1408
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Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2009 3:30 pm
"S o m e t i m e s T h e D a r k n e s s I s U n b e a r a b l e, B u t A N e c e s s a r y E v i l." ✙✈ ✉ ✌ ✁ ✎ ✐ ❀ {♥} ✰ ❁ ❤ ❥ ❦❧ ➳ ➽ «« т н є η i g h t m a r e D i a r y
Part I...Bear
Barren feet made a discordant melody as they made their way toward a rather sickly looking room. Dimly decorated with but a 1970's style lamp, masses of dust collecting books that had either been read a million times before or gifts that had not been thoroughly thought out enough, and the plain Jane had not the heart to toss them to the garbage heap just yet. A few picture frames with a shiny sort of feel to them had been hung about in an unfashionable order nor had time been taken to remove the photographs that had come with the frames at the time of purchase. Penelope Bourbon was not one of those girls that had many friends, giving her no actual reason to put forth the effort in making her homestead as nice as some. In her opinion, the photographs provided were just how she imagined herself if she was in their shoes, why delude her dreams just because it was not the way things were done in the real world? It did not matter. Penelope was not one who actually lived in the real world, in fact, not even in a world at all. The very first time her dreams became a serious reality was the most interesting night of her life. Mayhap she was a bit frightened, perhaps shaken up as well, however, she did learn to accept that which she had no control over, and when they, those people whose lives had already passed on, ventured into the depths of her mind and invaded her dreams, Penelope accepted them.
Tonight would be no different, aside from the characters she met; it always started the same...
The pearly white face of the great full moon gazed down dreamily, the few remaining clouds have given up their feeble attempts to cover this massive star’s godly glow; disappearing into the abyss far beyond the horizon. It was a cool night, the grasses swaying side to side in a melodramatic dance, almost every strand in perfect unison. Peace and tranquility lay together over the land, and every crevice of this tiny down trodden planet succumbed to them. As earth fell deeper into an unfathomable sleep, the stars garnished the velvet sky, exploding into plain sight with indescribable splendor. The image was something out of a Vincent van Gogh painting, all the colors tango dancing onto the canvas of earth creating a harmonious masterpiece even he would be proud of.
In the gentle hush of sleep, the living locked their doors and turned themselves in for the night, awaiting the hassles that sunrise would convey. Earth would once again open its arms to chaos and movement. The people had very few choices in this life and the next, to either keep moving in turn, or be left in the wake of its absence; the group that could not grasp this concept were very recognizable, a collection of odds and ends the greater portion of society cares nothing about. These are your average drifters, losers, homeless, drug dealers, and in some cases, even war veterans. This planet was notorious for insisting its select few people to give their lives, only to return with nothing short of a cold shoulder. What a noble world this has turned out to be... But those who are valuable enough to escape the eternal clutches of destiny will only rest tonight in triumph, and continue on their chaotic lives until the day they die. A cycle of birth, chaos, and death, not a single person on earth ever breaks from that.
Penelope permitted herself to leave the sanctuary of her bedroom into the dead of night, her sheer night gown flowing behind her like a bride’s veil. Her long white golden locks shimmered in the moon’s light, her eyes fixated at the dirt path just feet in front of her. Her instinct was guiding her through the hours of darkness; her curiosity fueled by visions of deja vu. It was the middle of August on a cold night; all was soundless, aside from the resonance of her own name being whispered into the hollowing winds. Her soul rose from her porcelain body, still, as it lay motionless in deep sleep. She looked down from where she stood to glimpse one last time at her sleeping body, her chest still heaving up and down; a simple yet effective reminder that she remained alive and thriving. She turned, and followed the strange call to her door, and let herself into the gloom of the night, the moon full breasted in the sky. It was always that way when she dreamt, as if to stare down at her with watchful and skeptical eyes. She crossed the vacant wasteland she often called her front yard, and onto the trail leading to a small forest behind her home.
During the summer she could hear the muffled laughter of children, as they played their adolescent games, and splashed into the chilled river that ran completely through the perimeter of her neighborhood. Her small town was identified by it’s scattered forests, fresh clean water, and for the farm lands that stretched on for what seemed to be endless miles. It was a perfect town to conceal what you wished the world not to discover.
Her dream self entered the diminutive excuse for a forest, the sounds of the autumn leaves echoing through the region with every step taken. The voice, though far off in the distance when this excursion began, was now clearly comprehendible, as if just in arms reach. The voice itself was shrill and persistent, instead of calling to her; it was demanding her presence, like a child for its mother’s attention and care.
She compelled herself further into the tiny fortress of trees, until Penelope entered a copious clearing, the great moon above providing the perfect light, as every inch of the clearing was consumed by it.
“Penelope…” The voice spoke to her once more, and she could see at last the creature who had been diligently calling. It was a young boy, ten years of age, by the look of his tiny disposition he couldn't be much older than that. His frail body was covered only by a long shirt, and a pair of overly large white socks, stained from what one could guess was hours of trekking in the mud. The boy turned and began to continue further into the woods; Penelope inaugurated that this small patch of trees was seemingly larger and more expanded then she remembered it to be.
“Wait!” Penelope yelled to him, lunging forward to grab his arm before he could elude her grasp further. “Please, why do you keep calling me? What do you want from me?” She took hold of both of the boy’s shoulders, and looked at him in the face for the first time. His eyes were milky white, huge gashes as deep as knife wounds painted the horrific story of this child’s fate. Penelope gasped, releasing her hold, and took two minute steps back.
“You stole it! You took it! Give it back! The boy reached for her, his hands stretched out like the branches of a willow tree. She stuttered backwards, tripping over her own feet and fell to the cold forest floor. This calm serene vision was spiraling into a gruesome nightmare. Without warning more outstretched hands reached for her. Penelope forced herself to her feet, and backed away from the hungry hands, each belonging to a disfigured child. Penelope watched as they poured into the clearing like water from a broken dam. Children of all races and ages, with more afflictions than Penelope dared count, forced themselves closer to her. Broken or missing limbs, disembowelment, scars, gashes, bruises, and some had large perforations strait through their tiny figures; such a vision brought tears to Penelope’s eyes. Despite their ailments, she could not find it in her heart to tear through them; all of this seemed too real. The scrawny disfigured arms seized anything on Penelope they could, hair, clothes, even her arms and legs. She fought them off, striving to cause as little harm to them as she could muster. But her efforts were in vein, for even though they were feeble and spindly, their strength outmatched her own. Penelope let out a long cry of fear as they pulled her down, unable to move her arms and legs; their eyes staring down at her, like little red lasers from a sniper rifle. The land began to spin, so fast that the color red was all that Penelope could make out. "Let go! I haven't taken anything!" The female's voice rang loudly over the muffled moans these strange children had been diligently emanating. There was no reason to end her existence in this moment and Penelope raised her arm and threw a small body to the side giving her a clear shot out of the mess, as larger wads of her hair were torn from her head; any more of this and she would be bald in a matter of seconds.
Penelope's hands scraped at the dirt path until tree roots allowed her to pull her body from the mass and out of harm's way. With a deep heavy sigh her feet carried her further away from those horrible little vermin though she had no idea where she was to go next. Obviously all of this running is useless if she has no direction, soon she would tire and escape would be impossible. The moon was now obscured by drifting, gray clouds the land about her dark and her eyes squinted through the shadows for any sign of her new, little playmates. For her sake, they were no where in sight, but that did not halt her legs, which were growing hot with every stretch of mile that was traveled. "This is getting me no where..." Thoughts hounded like a barking dog chained up in a used car lot. If she was going to get out of this scenery, she would need to find the key to all of this, what it was that kept these creatures bound to this existence. "They said you had taken something, what are they missing? Other than limbs and parents.." Smirking, Penelope met face to face with a white hued building, a large golden bell sitting atop like some monument to whatever edifice this stood for.
Swings, merry-go-rounds and see-saws gave away the secrecy of this place; a school house. Of course, Penelope had not seen one of this age in a great many years, mayhap her great grandfather might have attended one, but as it stood, they had been closed down years ago since the dawning of public schools. Her first bet was to search the play yard for any sign of something lost, even kicking up the sand did not bring her further in reaching any kind of safety. "If only I knew what you all were looking for!" She yelled out loud, still angry at herself for having been given this strange gift in the first place.
Right on cue, through angered eyes, Penelope saw the little boy who had initially reached out for her attention, and though he had gotten it, he seemed disinterested in receiving her help the easy way. But of course, in these kinds of situations, when was it ever easy? Sighing, the girl knew that she would soon see the others and as if able to read her own thoughts, rows upon rows of those little disfigured children carried themselves from the shadows and revealed their awkward appearances to not only the night but to Penelope who could not bare to look at them. Red eyes stared only at Penelope whose heart was racing faster than a galloping horse in a state race. "Oh god." Hollowed calls broke the chilling silence, and without thinking her shoeless feet drug her to the school house, locking the door as immediately the sound of pounding fists echoed through the four tiny walls that she knew would collapse in but a few short years.
Glass was the next sound as it shattered and limbs of all sizes reached through, moments later Penelope would be covered in frail bodies if she did not take a much closed off position; the spare closet. The door slammed behind her and a wooden chair fit perfectly underneath the knob. With chest heaving in and out rapidly like the waves of the troubled ocean, the girl looked around for something she could use to defend herself, now was not the time to worry about injuring children that were no longer alive, and it wasn't as if one more wound was going to kill them. Boxes were thrown left and right, as the front door to the school house was finally breached, the pitter patter of feet could be heard over the wooden floor boards which moaned over the mass amount of pressure and weight now being applied to them even after so many years of being left alone. The door to the closet was now being rocked back and forth in an attempt to be opened, but the lock was holding; for now. Wood paneling from the wall behind her frightened form fell and knocked over a brown box still untouched in her frantic searching, nearly missing her head by inches. Red eyes filled the oblivion that could be seen through that miniscule crack, just as another panel fell from the door and the sight of broken hands and fingers made their way through, reaching with everything in them to get the woman they thought to have wronged them.
"I don't know what you want! You have to tell me! I can help you!" Screaming, Penelope was dragged to the ground by her hair once again, a hand having reached for her and achieved its goal.
"You stole it from us. We want it back." The voices rang in unison, frightfully eerie in the moonlit night.
"Stole what? What did I steal?" Penelope questioned back, still unable to peace together what it was they were searching for, what they had thought she stole. But there it was in the lost a found bin. The only toy in this whole stupid closet, and as her body was pulled closer towards the reaching hands, her own reached for the stuffed toy taking a hold of it by the strands of its left ear. Without warning, her hands shoved the furry creature into the mass of flesh in hopes of silencing them for but a few moments to give her time to prepare her next move. But with eyes shut, Penelope could hear nothing. Just the silence most nights like these orchestrated through them.
And as soon as Penelope opened her eyes, there was her bed again, the sheets drawn up over her shoulders, the feeling of warmth on her toes, since having put socks on just before falling entirely to slumber. Rising, the clock next to her flickered 2 A.M. over and over again in a florescent green hue. Beads of sweat lined the brim of her forehead allowing her feet to touch the cold floor below and made a break for the bathroom. Just before reaching the hallway, a figure loomed in entryway to the living room, its arms cradling a furry creature she could not forget for the life of her. His smile was charming now that he was not scarred from head to toe, and Penelope's glittering eyes watch him disappear into the darkness.
It just goes to show, sometimes even the small things matter. Brown fuzzy bears to young boys are what golden crowns are to kings. Better to treasure the smallest of matters, who knows what you are going to miss later on. Penelope signs her name at the bottom of her diary. And the nitemare continues on…
═════════════════════════════════════════════
Table of Contents
♥ Part I.. Bear
♥ Part II.. Reaping Willow
♥ Part III.. Three Past Three
♥ Part IV.. Maybe He Comes
♥ Part V.. 1408
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