Grief

Grief.

Going through a roller coaster of emotions, and not the fun kind. Laugh, cry, shake, shudder, we fall. It's like living deep beneath the earth. Every time I push away a clump of dirt and see light for a moment, more dirt piles on top. I gasp for air, scream for help, but I fell in the forest. The nightmares abound, the loved ones we've lost. The pain, it returns like an old friend that you tried to forget. Eyes wide, hearts wrenched, someone pull me in from sea. I'm vulnerable like a lamb. Let the wolves eat me, it will never be as painful as the sorrow that I feel now. Hopelessly waiting for the comfort I'll never receive from the one I'll never be able to look upon again. Don't wait up for me cuz I'll be here a thousand years. The light that once emanated from me was squeezed into submission by the darkness of cold hard reality. A sudden slap in the face, a stab in the back. I scream to the world, "Not here, not now!" Why don't you take some other fool and leave me in peace. I couldn't bear another day like this so I let go. I need someone to hold on to. Where's the tree I'm supposed to hug? You have to experience this to feel what I'm feeling, you can't walk in my shoes without feeling the burden for yourself. Even now it almost seems unreal. I can forget for a second but then I am plunged back in to the ice water from whence I came. My friends all around, take a piece, just a slice, of this poison cake I'm feasting on. Everyone cares, they all understand. I feel no animosity towards them, no bitterness, no regrets, "should have told him". No. Months before I had started saying "I love you" each night in case it came to that but not even I could see the gravity of the situation. Barely now can I begin to understand, comprehend what just happened. Is it possible? How could it be? It's almost denial but I don't feel like I fit in those neat little boxes. Can anyone feel what I'm feeling right now? I hope that you'll never have to but I know better than that. This is grief. This is suffering. This is loss.

Things Aren't Always What You Expect

A pretty cat sat in the windowsill, unbeknownst to all. She licked her paws and combed her whiskers and seemed content to sit under the sun all day. Noticing a fly buzzing around the screen, its leg, luckily for the cat, was caught in the wiring. For a while, she scratched at the glass until the window magically sprung open just enough for the cat to push her way into an equally magical few minutes of what could be considered a massacre of the fly-kind. After successfully amputation all of the poor fly's limbs, including its wings, the cat sauntered into the kitchen and then there was a zombie apocalypse.

The end.

The East End

I was born on the east end of the district. It’s the side where only the people that were born there live, most of them longing to be free from the decrepit buildings and tight quarters, I being one of them. I’ve always dreamt of a way out of this place. Money keeps me hostage. No one wants to hire a low-life from the east end and the ones that have to give you wages that a hermit couldn’t live on. Many people in the east end have two or three jobs and are barely making ends meat. No one in the east end could even attempt a move to a better part of the district. The prices are too high. I have never in my life owned a new pair of shoes. Once, a girl named Patricia got a new ribbon for her birthday. She wore it to school and everyone stopped and stared as she passed by in the hall. It was a brilliant red with a gold fringe at the end. It was “lost” by the end of the day. But that was years ago.

Most of us east enders leave school after third grade and go to work in the big textile factories, as shoe shiners, or anything we can scrounge up. I bet someone would sweep the sullied streets if they could get paid for it but no one cares enough about us to clean the streets. I know a few girls that were in my grade that had to resort to prostitution. That might just be the worst job or them all. The Cattle Driver comes through every so often and picks up the young girls who don’t have work. We’re all desperate. It’s survival of the fittest down here.

Reiny, my brother, and I have lived in Rat Kingdom ever since our mother passed away when I was ten. If you go down Grouse Street you’ll see many alleyways that end in large sewer drains. Connected to the sewer system is the Underground. The Underground was a subway system that went throughout Orion. From what I’ve heard, it was an industrial marvel. When I was three, the Underground was shut down due to lack of funds and the “unimportance” of many of the places it went, said the mayor. 

Because many people in the east end could not afford to live in the tenements, they went underground. A city was build in the Underground and dubbed “Rat Kingdom”. Many black market dealings go on in Rat Kingdom and it has much worse living conditions than above ground but at least it doesn’t cost us anything to live there. Many an orphan can be found in Rat Kingdom along with failed businessmen and large families who can’t support themselves. These people aren’t as bad as you might think. Many are actually the nicest people you could meet in all of Orion, they’ve just been given a bad hand. If you’re having a particularly hard time, they’ll part with a pouch of uri seeds so you can trade for a small bowl of broth or maybe a pidgeon breast. That pouch might have given them the means to make uri bread to sell in the market or feed to their own starving children. Francesca has done this for me on many occasions. She has two darling children of her own, Marcie and Bradford. They are so sweet. Francesca is an amazing mother.

To be continued...

Sincerely, Your Stalker

Dear you,

I think I’m falling for you.

The way that you walk.

The way that you smile.

The way that you talk.

I blush when you see me looking your way.

You’re so beautiful.

I love the way that you comb your hair in the mirror.

I see your reflection out of the corner of my eye and I smile.

You are perfect.

The way you look when you sleep.

Beautiful.

That’s what you are.

I know I’m falling for you.

I also fell off your windowsill.

There isn’t enough room to sit comfortably and watch you at the same time.

There’s also that occasional moment where you almost see me.

I have to lean to the side into your potted flowers.

It isn’t comfortable.

It doesn’t help that you’re on the second floor.

Like sheesh, couldn’t you be more considerate?

Also, sometimes you close the curtains and that’s just plain rude.

Maybe you could move your mirror three inches to the left so I can see the reflection off your trophies that bounce to the glass cup you keep beside your bed.

That way, I can see you from all angles of your room.

Thanks a bunch.

Sincerely,

Your stalker

Of Course I Was Scared

Yeah, I was scared, but I tried to suppress the fear. No use in using up my oxygen by getting all worked up, I'd just end up suffocating faster. Suffocate like that boy in the paper who was playing hide-and-seek and got stuck in that freezer chest. The article had a quote from one of the paramedics saying that they could have saved him if he had calmed down. They just needed a little more time. I won't let my breath quicken. I'll give them that time.

If they'd only find me quicker. I'd tried shouting before I became light-headed. From watching all those crime scene shows, I knew that sometimes the police don't find you in time. But sometimes they'll be heroic and come at the last second. I hope my life is like a TV show. Maybe they'll be heroic for me.

I mean, today's been a pretty TV show-esque day. First a murder, then a kidnapping, and now I'm trapped in a refrigerator awaiting my rescue, or death. I'm hoping for the former. It's funny how you watch these TV shows and hear these stories on the news but never once does it cross your mind that you could one day be stuck in a refrigerator slowly suffocating as well.

If I survive, I think the first thing I'll do is get a nice big cup of hot chocolate. After the police finish with me, of course. I'll sit in my flat with my flat mate, Phil, and drink hot chocolate. Yeah that's what I'll do. I may even get a week off from work. I'll say I'm in shock. Maybe I am in shock. Can you tell if you're in shock? I doubt June will let me go back to work anyway. That would be nice. If only the police would come and save me.

My hair sticks to my face. It's all humid in here and when I put my hand on the sides of the walls, I can feel the condensation. Maybe I should try to sleep so I can preserve some air, give me a chance.

Hello There Humans (and other assorted life forms)

Hey there,
     So, I'm doing this bloggity thingamajig because I wanted a place to put all of the short stories I write. I'm not promising that I'll post often, but when I get the inspiration to write, I will post it on here. I already have a few short stories lined up to be posted so for the first little while that this is up you guys will have many juicy stories to digest. I'll probably also post stories that I'm working on to ask you for opinions or where I should go next, or just to post something. That's another thing, please comment on my work with constructive criticism or what you liked about it so that I can grow and learn.

Thank you, and goodnight
Olivia