tinykitten10 - Tumblr blog

tinykitten10 · 10 years

Text

The Year of the Vision Chapter 1

Day 1, March 8th, 10:15 A.M. Samuel Blythe I did not want to go out on such a night but there was not much else that I could do. The buildings that sprawled out in front of me were slumped against the earth, a stark change from the lavish skyscrapers that groomed the skyline with sharp, harsh towers made of metal and glass. Nature had run over this part of the city years before, and the council members were not in any hurry to try and change the crumbled structures. Metal frames littered a street that was more grass than asphalt, not that I had seen asphalt for years. The last time I had seen anything in this particular neighborhood was when I was about four years old. I did not recall much of my life there, and my parents seemed to prefer it that way. This night, the eighth of the month, March, I thought, was the night that I did not want to be present in the town square. I had been hiking out here for hours, simply trying to avoid going home, and having to witness something I despised so much. It was a hanging, and I did not believe that it was deserved, not in a place where crime was a normal occurrence because no one had what they wanted, or even what they needed. But the council deemed it necessary, and so it was, on the eighth of March, two young women, 19 and 21, were to be hanged and burned at the gallows that had been built days before. I walked slowly through the small neighborhood, pausing and looking through windows, examining the peeling paint and caved-in walls and ceilings. I watched the numbers on the walls and doors slowly climb in value. I stopped finally at the house at the end of the street and turned down the vine covered sidewalk. I wiped dust off of the door before gripping the door handle in his sweaty, slippery palm, and twisting it to the right. The door clicked and swung open smoothly. Good, I thought, still works. And I slung my leg over the wooden barrier that stood beyond the door, giving a sharp yank on the door, it shut with a bang behind me. For some reason it did not matter if I made noise today, though on other days there were various monsters roaming and searching for something to eat, today there did not seem to be anything moving beyond the line of the forest. They must be running from the same thing I am,.I sigh and run my fingers roughly through my mop of light blond hair, moving it from my eyes only to have it flop back down into my line of sight. My breathing is shallow, the air in the older, crumbling building almost struggling to gather the freshness that the surrounding vegetation created. I walked to the broken staircase, maneuvering around cracks and gaps created by weather and nature trying to take over what was once hers to begin with. The sounds of the forest only become prominent as I make my way into my childhood room. A bed stands against the back wall, covered in some toy-themed blanket that really should have been scavenged by now. A dresser is adorned with various toys and trinkets. I ran my hand against a few of the items there, clearing them of dust. The walls were in similar condition, covered with drawings and pictures, probably cut out from magazines and the like. A framed paper, which was unlike most of the other items on the wall, had only a few lines of text. It lacked the feeling of childishness, and lacked the colored scribbles that adorned every space not occupied by a piece of paper with the same scribbles. The paper was a certificate, it read, Samuel Blythe, June 10th, 2015.. I sighed loudly, disturbing birds that seemed to like perching on my windowsill, even before I was born and my family had moved to this particular neighborhood. I had always had an affinity with animals, I used to play with them in the yard, and I could notice when they were disturbed. A loud noise resonates through the small neighborhood, It sounds like a gunshot, I felt panic close his throat. There had not been any ammo for years, so it was odd to hear the loud metallic noise. Screams soon followed the boom and I started to run down the stairs, jumping over the wooden barrier and jimmying the door handle only to realize it had locked itself when I had slammed it shut behind myself. I ran towards the barrier that separated the outer and inner city, tripping on my own feet and various nature made obstacles that sprouted up between concrete and overgrown lawns. My heart beats fast in my chest and my eyes glaze white in the edges until all I could see was what was in front of me. I trip and fall on my knees, scraping them badly. My palms stung with gravel and dirt. My pants tore where I landed and I let out a gasp of pain as I lifted myself to my feet. Something blurred past the barrier, which was now only twenty feet away. My glasses lay a couple feet away, and it was hard to see clearly. Two figures approached me, and I backed up on all fours, fear rising and paralyzing me to in place. One of the reached down, having found something, probably my glasses, on the ground. The other, who was much taller than their counterpart, held out a hand to me. I reached out hesitantly as the person, a girl by the feel of her hand, snaked out her arm, reaching around my neck, biting down hard while pressing two of her fingers into the soft part of my neck. I slumped hard on the ground. Day 1, March 8th, 12:27 A.M. Jocelyn Rene Stark "Jocelyn Rene Stark, of the Valmere District." The tall guard spits my name at the crowd, almost as if he was just as angry at them as he was at me. I walk out onto the thin, makeshift boards of the temporary gallows. They probably had not planned to kill anyone, if the crime is grave enough…, I thought solemnly, then it does not really matter where or when, or even who. I did not believe there was much crime in what I had done, as I had been hungry and desperate, and the family had been well fed and easily targeted. There had been such a low chance of being caught and yet there I was, standing on the platform in front of those who would watch me die. I should not have been caught. It had been such easy pickings until she had shown up. Short and scrawny, the girl had to be around my age, but her face screamed naivety. I did not know the other girls name, as we had been separated up until now, having last seen each other when we had been caught in the middle of stealing dinner. I shook my head, trying to clear it of the frustration and anger held towards the girl. It was hopeless now, and I knew it. I looked over at the smaller girl, pressed uncomfortably close to the man behind her. He was touching her thigh with his right hand, holding her hands behind her back. I growled once and he looked over at me, “You’d be better spendin’ your time rememberin’ this pretty little thin’ ‘stead of tryin’ to protect her. She won’ be here for very much longer.” His tone was threatening and he trailed his hand up to rub at her stomach, underneath her chest. I tried to look forwards, ignoring the man touching the poor girl. The man behind me looks longingly at his counter part. I jam my elbow into his gut, apologizing with a fake, sickly sweet slur in my voice. “S-sorry mister, my muscles spasms are getting to me again, I really am sorry.” He smiles down at my face, stroking my wrist. I swallow hard, trying to ignore the way he continued to stare at the back of my neck. I take in my surroundings. The walls that surround the district are tall, but climbable. They were only repaired enough to keep things in, not out. The Mayor sat at his pedestal, guards at his sides, speaking of the grievances that had been committed. The only other guards were behind us. Not much harm from two little girls, huh? I thought, yanking her arm at the presence of the mans curious fingers. The guard did not comment, but yanked on the chain in between the cuffs on my hands. I rolled her eyes as the Mayor droned on about their wonderful government and how benevolent that they were towards each and every city. If they were benevolent, I noted, then I would not have had to resort to stealing to get a meal every freakin’ day. The Mayor’s voice drifted off and I snapped to attention. The other girl whimpered loudly in the silence. He started back up again, somewhere around equality, and justice among the people. I looked at the girl, wishing I could reach out and comfort her for some reason. But the girl had gotten me caught, gotten me killed! I growled loudly and strained at the binds on my wrists. Something loud and metallic ran through the air. Birds scattered across the sky, which was dark with clouds full of rain. I snapped my head to the side, looking at the girl, who looked back with just as much shock if not more. I looked down at my wrists, which were a lot lighter, and no longer sported the heavy metal cuffs from before. I glanced around, mouth agape as I watched the chaos unfold into the clearing. We do not have time for this! I thought, panicked, as I turned to grab the smaller girls hand, and roughly tugged her towards the outer wall. The Council had been thorough in their preparations, as the wall was far from the gallows where they were to have been hung. I pulled harder on the girls wrist as to make her move faster. The small girl picked up speed, finally, and the wall inched closer. I skidded to a halt in front of the structure, looking for something, a hole big enough to fit the both of us through. I did not find anything big enough until I glanced upwards towards the upper half of the fence. There was a hole big enough for both of us, but it was a climb. I looked towards the other girl and gasped in horror at what I saw. Her entire leg was covered in blood. The same leg the man had been groping held a six inch long dagger. It was military grade, and expected of every officer in every district, and it still shocked me to see it there. I growled in frustration and grabbed the girl around the waist, hauling her up behind myself, clinging with my right hand to what was left of the chain link fence. I made sure not to bother the knife and deepen the wound without actually meaning to. I just barely made it through the fence. When I looked back I could see the soldiers faces dawn on the fact that their prisoners had escaped. I look up towards the platform where the Mayor had stood moments before, speaking of integrity, justice, and equality, where now the Mayor lay dead, in a pool of his own blood. Good riddance and bless the person who shot that guy I scoffed at the thought and continued on down the opposite side of the fence. We walk towards the outer city, which was covered in trees and vines. Mother Nature had claimed this part of the city only recently, and it had been a shocking transformation to anyone who had lived here beforehand. My breathing had picked up in the scuffle, and the girl seemed to notice early on, though she did not say anything. After a few feet, under the cover of the trees, no more than twenty feet away from the wall, the girl demanded to be put down. Chapter 1? Hell Yeah Its done "I already got you caught once, it would be better to just leave me here so you can get away." I let her down gently, but keep a grip on her wrist to make sure she does not try and leave. "I do not see why it would matter now. They see me again, they gonna shoot me, end of story. And its the same for you to, missy, isn’t it?" I shake her arm once before dropping it. "And besides, I get pretty lonely out by myself." The girl looks shaken and I look at her, confused. She points forwards towards something. I look around to where she’s pointing to see a boy, no older than she was, with blond hair and deep green eyes. He was sprawled across the ground. I looked back to the girl and watched as she bends over and picks something up off of the ground, His glasses I thought before reaching towards the boy to help him up off the ground. He was not much taller than I was. I reached my arm to bring him into a hug, a customary greeting from where I assumed he was from. It would make sense that he was from the Oscrest District, the glasses and nice clothing, probably only torn from his fall, unlike my own clothing, which was torn when I got them, though they fit nicely. I gripped his hand tightly bringing my fingers down hard into the tender spot on the back of his neck while simultaneously biting down into his neck. He fell limply into my arms. Day 1, March 8th, 12:33 A.M. Princess Ileana Ward “Do you understand exactly what you have done wrong, Princess Ileana?” I look up at the officer, my eyes narrowed, and filled with terror. “You don’t have to worry princess, we have no plans to harm you, though this will be a lesson to both you and everyone at the ceremony.” He smiles grimly and chuckles. “The street rat deserves it anyways, stealing from a royal family.” I move my hand in an angry gesture and growl in the back of my throat. It sounds pathetic but I do not back down. The man smiles at me, his eyes cold and heartless, before yanking me up by my sleeve and pushing me into the guard on the right side of the door. He was a brute for sure I thought as he smiled like a lion commenting something I did not bother to listen to. It did not matter anyways, as he stopped talking the moment we entered the hallway that lead to the main clearing in the middle of the small town outside of the castles outer walls. It was quaint and small. Farmers and traders and the like. They lived in fear of the King and his sons. They hardly knew anything about Princess Ileana, and I was not as important as my siblings. They were all tough muscles and charm where I was soft skin and hard eyes. I tended to avoid people and I quite liked to be alone at times. My father did not believe I would marry when I got older, and that was well and good, for I did not like men much anyways. And that was what got me into this mess in the first place. It was not a family home that I had been in when I had been caught. I did not even know the people. It was just that the woman had captivated me. Though the way she acted after meeting me, it did not seem that she felt the same way. She was a beautiful creature. All curves where bones should be, though every rib could be seen, and that struck something in me, and I was unbelievably angry about it. Such a beautiful woman to be stealing from a home. She should be the princess, not I, who had no curves to speak of and still looked like the little girl that my father loved so much. And again, it did not matter so much, not now, that the beautiful girl was to die. My name was not announced when I was finally pushed into the sunlight on the platform where I was supposed to be hung. I did not believe my father was that heartless, but I was still afraid that it might actually turn out to be my hanging as well as the other girls. Though at this point I would rather we switch places, I was sure that my father would prefer the feminine features of the girl over his current child’s flat-chested, slim hipped features. I sighed and stepped forward onto my toes, trying to keep them from falling asleep. “”Jocelyn Rene Stark, of the Valmere District.” one of my fathers personal guards, and the guard of the towns Mayor, said in a deep and disgusted voice. I glared at the man before looking over to the girl again. Jocelyn, such a beautiful name. I thought before a tickling sensation in my thigh distracted me. I squeaked out a surprised sound, eyes widening, and my hands trembled behind my back. I tried to keep my eyes forward, shame bringing a deep red blush across my cheeks. I heard a growl coming from Jocelyn’s throat as the man’s hand crept just a little too high and I could not help but whimper. The man groping me said something to Jocelyn, but I could not hear what it was. Whatever Jocelyn did, it made the man stop, and for that I was grateful. The crowd here was large. Those who knew I was the princess stared on in shock as the Mayor went on in speech as if he had not even noticed that it was me. The rest of the crowd had eyes of malicious anger, as if they would be just as happy to rip the both of us to shreds themselves. It was just a home, how is it a crime to try and survive. I let out a quiet, angry noise at the thought before slumping my shoulders in defeat. My father was insane, though it was understandable what he did, and I probably would have done the same. I looked to the edge of the crowd, squinting my eyes to see, and then my eyes widened in shock. There was a man, dressed in a black trench coat, with the royal seal embroidered in the left pocket. His hand reached into the coat and rested on something glinting and metal. I jerked my head back instinctively, and the guard dug his nails into my thigh, causing me to let out a alarmed cry. The man in the trench coat looked up at that and smiled softly at me. The next few minutes ran in slow motion, as the man took out whatever was in his pocket, a gun, a gun. I whispered my fear as the man pointed the gun towards the Mayor and shot. Immediately the clearing filled with men in coats just like the man with the gun. They all had guns. I could tell by the bulge at their sides and how each and every one of them rested their hand on it in warning. Jocelyn grabbed my hand, much to my surprise, and yanked once. Pain shot up my leg and I almost cried out, but I stayed silent, dragging myself along behind the taller woman. I kept looking back, to see what was happening, stopping short when I saw the man who had shot the Mayor turn away from the crowd, huddled in a group in the middle of the clearing, and look over towards us. Panic shot through my body as I picked up speed, almost surpassing Jocelyn in my fear. We reached the outer wall within seconds of getting past the clearing, the men were gaining on us slowly, though I knew that they would not go past the wall, I prayed that they would not go past the wall. She knew not to hope. Jocelyn looked towards me and gasped in shock. Her face went pale with shock as she looked at my leg. Her eyes flicked back and forth before she slung me over her shoulder, somehow managing to balance herself enough to climb up to the hole in the fence. She slung me over through the hole, keeping a hand underneath my arm to keep me from falling while using her other arm to haul herself over the fence. Jocelyn hooks her arm back around my waist. Jocelyn dropped down a few feet at a time, allowing me to climb down slowly after her. We dropped down the last few feet, and I trailed slowly behind Jocelyn, who walked at a fast, panicked pace. She mouthed words to herself, though I was sure that she did not know that was what she was saying, or even that she was saying anything at all. The outer city was in shambles. My father had not wanted anything to do with it, already so concerned with the way the inner city was at the time, and how it still is now. I sighed and stared at Jocelyn’s back, guessing that it was just as bony as her sides, but hidden now in prisoners clothing, having lost her other more fitting clothes back at the main hall where prisoners were to be held before execution. I had loved the outer city. It told so many stories that could never be told in the inner city. Broken doors and walls, chipped paint, and half hung swings on porches that were just as broken as everything else. I could not remember life before being a princess. I knew she had one, but it was hard to remember what it was. Something glittered on the ground in front of me and I bent over to pick it up. A pair of glasses. Oscrest? That’s odd. I looked up towards Jocelyn just as the boy in front of her fell to the ground at her feet.

#Samuel Blythe #samuel #blythe #jocelyn stark #jocelyn #stark #ileana ward #ileana #ward #fiction #year #vision #the year of the vision

0 notes

tinykitten10 · 10 years

Text

Shifting Visions

Everything at once and then nothing. My thoughts swirl around me in a haze of color and memory. I walk forward and then stop, looking around at the blurry grotesque scene before me. I turn around again, feeling the coarse surface of the trees as I walk past them. I look for something to tell me that I had arrived where I needed to be but found nothing. The colors of the trees started to fade from brown, to grey, to white, to black, faster and faster until I couldn't continue any further. I fell to my knees and tried to stop my shaking, to no avail. I looked up to find something i had never seen before in the distance. I slowly got to my feet and headed towards the figure. I take a step closer. The creature twitches, not facing me. I take another step. The creature turns in a hurry, a frightened look on its face. Another step. The creature looks brokenly at me, or past me really. Another step. The creature still doesn't seem to notice me. I reach forward out of curiosity, using my other hand to brush the hair out of my eyes. I hear something drop to the ground and i step back startled. I find that the creature is falling apart in front of me. I look into the creatures black eyes, its red irises burning my own pale blue. My head throbs as i reach again towards the creature. I get closer. My head starts to spin. I get closer and double over, clutching my chest in an attempt to regain air in my lungs. The creature lets out a moan as this happens, suggesting that it felt pain too. Something snapped in my head and i reached forward, grabbing the creatures hand and allowing its blood to stick between my fingers. I looked again to its eyes and was frozen in place. The creatures soul seemed to moan at me in despair. Bloody tears ran down my face. The creature tightens its grip. My eyes run black and oozing. The creature lets out another moan. My skin changes, matching mark for mark, scar for scar. I look up again and the creature smiles sadly at me, the stitches around its mouth expanding to fit the smile to its face. It starts moving forward, not letting go of my hand. We reach the part of my thought that i hate the most and i am force to look around again. Little girls of every caliber surround me. Some of the are happy, smiling, embracing someone they love. Others are crying and begging. The third little girl is smiling again, sanity be gone, bloody masses of tissues and organs covering every inch of the room. Her tattered dress covered in blood and gore. There was no regret on her face. Instead, her face was filled to the brim with nothingness. Even the smile of insanity didnt truly hold any emotion. I feel the hand release mine. A wave and a smile appears in my mind and i let out a noise of desperation, wondering where my guide could have gone. I turn around now all alone. Something detaches itself from my body, but i dont bother to see what it was. My attention focuse on the item in front of me. A window? No a mirror. But, even that didnt really matter compared to the importance i was placing on the figure inside of the mirror. I let out another moan, realizing who it is. I look at the girl who is now reaching for my hand. I try to pull away but fail, only succeeding in pulling the girl with me. I let out another moan, so desperate to not enter the place that I hated so much. We reach that place and i run from it as fast as my body will allow. Something stops me and i turn around, smiling and waving at the girl before disappearing into the heavenly light.

#fiction #falling apart #cycles

0 notes

tinykitten10 · 10 years

Text

The Voice of Self Hatred

Sometimes there's this voice in my head. It wont go away no matter how hard I try. And there will always be a part of me that wishes it never would. A part of me that believes I deserve every wrong that comes my way. A part of me that believes that every single thing that the voice in my head says is one-hundred percent truth, and there is nothing that I can do to change this. And when I escape from this voice, if only for a few hours of restless sleep, I find myself wondering when it will be back. And I am not wondering in the sense of dread that should be expected. This voice is normal to me, and I usually miss it when it disappears. And perhaps this is why I find it so hard to tell anyone how I truly feel. Because the voice in my head assures me that they do not care. The voice lets me know that I am being selfish. And the voice doesn't bother hiding the fact that it believes, and I believe, that I am always a selfish person. In a way, I would be lost if the voice were to go away, and yet that is what I wish for the most. The voice is the beginning and end of the hurricane of emotions I'm forced to deal with, or to not deal with in my case, every time I open my eyes. It is a dreaded cycle that I cant explain, but have been through so many times it has become second nature. Emotions are a weakness, giving away that you feel is like letting the shark smell your blood in the water. So I tend to wear the mask of unrivaled disinterest. Empty eyes and a soulless gaze, the mask of someone who doesn't care for a reason. But the truth is that I really do care, so much in fact that the voice in my head has intercepted me, reminding me that I am not like the others around me, and therefore do not deserve to feel as they do. And I cant say that people haven't told me to just end it, because they have, and even the voice in my head thinks its a good idea. At the same time, however, the voice comments on the selfish nature of the decision that I have the option of making. I am selfish, cowardly, and I don't deserve anything good. I am also selfish and cowardly if I give up, because I am only thinking of ending it for myself, and not for anyone else. So there in the end, I am stuck, with the laughter of everyone else echoing around me, urging the voice in my head to tell me even more ways that I dont deserve anything, that I am not normal, that I'm ugly from head to toe. And I will then take all of this negativity, and I will bottle it up, because I dont know what else to do with it. And eventually I will explode, starting the cycle all over again.

#writing #drabble #voices #emotions #bottling yourself up #exploding outwards #rinse and repeat

0 notes

tinykitten10 · 10 years

Text

Steeplechase; Step one

White walls separated by broken, jagged lines And compared to the red that is inside my head? and spilled and spattered on every inch of devil-coated space? for the purpose of sheer demoralization of our minds and bodies of the demons and the angels and the dark little creatures There is this sound, a quiet voice, one you can't help but hear No one know exactly what happened to you after that night the voice wills back insanity and brings calmness with the smallest of lilts and demonic inflections It experiments with your helpless mind bringing revolting images of blood and the obliteration of a world a world that looks so much like your own it forces the ascension to the edge of your fragile sanity You don't have an inkling what it desires of you and you don't want to even try to comprehend what it wants the undead knowledge no longer snatched from your numb, innocent hand you know now of every little infraction upon every persons moral beliefs and you know now that it was all by your hand and your disolutive mind and you find yourself face-first in the ground with no choice but to move you have to move now you have to move now and it matters none that you don't know how anymore or that it hurts the pain isnt real in any other plane of existence at least, thats what i have always been told.

#poetry #steeplechase #writing #tinykitten10 #tinykitten100 #a rambling teenager

0 notes

tinykitten10 · 10 years

Text

The Destination

The destination of our minds is clear And though our holy leaders steer All who believe into dark distress Until all that's left is happiness Hope is always met in pairs Met with destruction and long lived despair Pain is blinding and forever binding Love is hurt and leads to ware.

http://tinykitten100.deviantart.com/art/The-destination-365057694

#poetry #old poems #writing #tinykittrn10 #tinykitten100 #a rambling teenager

0 notes

tinykitten10 · 10 years

Text

The Years of the Vision

He didn't want to go out on such a night but there wasn't much else that he could do. The buildings that sprawled out in front of him were slumped against the earth, a stark change from the lavish skyscrapers that groomed the skyline with sharp, harsh towers made of metal and glass. Nature had run over this part of the city years before, and the council members weren't in any hurry to try and change the crumbled structures. Metal frames littered a street that was more grass than asphalt, not that he had seen asphalt for years. The last time he had seen anything in this particular neighborhood was when he was about four years old. He didn't recall much of his life there, and his parents seemed to prefer it that way. This night, the eighth of the month, March, he thought, was the night that he did not want to be present in the town square. He had been hiking out here for hours, simply trying to avoid going home, and having to witness something he despised so much. It was a hanging, and he did not believe that it was deserved, not in a place where crime was a normal occurrence because no one had what they wanted, or even what they needed. But the council deemed it necessary, and so it was, on the eighth of March, two young women, 19 and 21, were to be hanged and burned at the gallows that had been built days before.

He walked slowly through the small neighborhood, pausing and looking through windows, examining the peeling paint and caved-in walls and ceilings. He watched the numbers on the walls and doors slowly climb in value. He stopped finally at the house at the end of the street and turned down the vine covered sidewalk. He wiped dust off of the door before gripping the door handle in his sweaty, slippery palm, and twisting it to the right. The door clicked and swung open smoothly. Good, he thought, still works. And he slung his leg over the wooden barrier that stood beyond the door, giving a sharp yank on the door, it shut with a bang behind him. For some reason it did not matter if he made noise today, though on other days there were various monsters roaming and searching for something to eat, today there did not seem to be anything moving beyond the line of the forest. They must be running from the same thing I am. He sighs and runs his fingers roughly through his mop of light blond hair, moving it from his eyes only to have it flop back down into his line of sight. His breathing is shallow, the air in the older, crumbling building almost struggling to gather the freshness that the surrounding vegetation created. He walked to the broken staircase, maneuvering around cracks and gaps created by weather and nature trying to take over what was once hers to begin with.

The sounds of the forest only become prominent as he makes his way into his childhood room. A bed stands against the back wall, covered in some toy-themed blanket that really should have been scavenged by now. A dresser is adorned with various toys and trinkets. He ran his hand against a few of the items there, clearing them of dust. The walls were in similar condition, covered with drawings and pictures, probably cut out from magazines and the like. A framed paper, which was unlike most of the other items on the wall, had only a few lines of text. It lacked the feeling of childishness, and lacked the colored scribbles that adorned ever space not occupied by a piece of paper with the same scribbles. The paper was a certificate, it read, Samuel Blythe, June 10th, 2015.. He sighed loudly, disturbing birds that seemed to like perching on his windowsill, even before he was born and his family had moved to this particular neighborhood. He had always had an affinity with animals, he used to play with them in the yard, and he could notice when they were disturbed. A loud noise resonates through the small neighborhood, It sounds like a gunshot, Samuel felt panic close his throat. There hadn't been any ammo for years, so it was odd to hear the loud metallic noise. Screams soon followed the boom and Samuel started to run down the stairs, jumping over the wooden barrier and jimmying the door handle only to realize it had locked itself when he had slammed it shut behind him.

Samuel ran towards the barrier that separated the outer and inner city, tripping on his own feet and various nature made obstacles that sprouted up between concrete and overgrown lawns. His heart beat fast in his chest and his eyes glazed white in the edges until all he could see was what was in front of him. He trips and falls on his knees, scraping them badly. His palms stung with gravel and dirt. His pants tore where he landed and he let out a gasp of pain as he lifted himself to his feet. Something blurred past the barrier, which was now only twenty feet away. His glasses lay a couple feet away, and it was hard to see clearly. Two figures approached Samuel, and he backed up on all fours, fear rising and paralyzing him to the spot. One of the reached down, having found something, probably his glasses, on the ground. The other, who was much taller than their counterpart, held out a hand to Samuel. He reached out hesitantly as the person, a girl by the feel of her hand, snaked out her arm, reaching around his neck, biting down hard while pressing two of her fingers hard into the soft part of his neck. Samuel slumped hard on the ground.

#the #year #of #the vision #vision #the year of the vision #fiction #Samuel #Blythe #Samuel Blythe #novel?#short story?#Idrk #guess we will find out #read and review please #tinykitten10 #tinykitten100 #a-rambling-teenager

0 notes

tinykitten10 · 10 years

Text

Writing help links

I just figured I'd post the things that I use for writing for anyone that would like to know ;)

http://writingexercises.co.uk/index.php - This one has various prompt generators and covers a broad region of random choice. It include a plot generator, character generator, a first line generator, and alot more, this is definitely a helpful tool for anyone who doesn't have as much inspiration for things.

http://chaoticshiny.com/civgen.php - This website can help with randomizing/creating a guide to what your world might look like. It gives a broad description on how many different things are including ecology, superstition, economy, religion, culture, population, military, and politics. It is advised to look for further information for some things, but otherwise this is very helpful.

http://www.freetranslation.com/en/translate-english-german - This is a good alternative to google translate, though I don't know much about it, I use it to translate into German, and I think that it can be used for other languages as well.

http://www.panthermoon.com/generator.php - Any one of these little links leads to a generator. They all work pretty well, I used it a couple times, and it gave some interesting things. It is also fanfiction friendly!

http://watchout4snakes.com/ - This is a good website if you are at a loss for words. It can be used kind of like a subject word, but it generally is just a random word generator.

http://www.ruggenberg.nl/titels.html - This is a good place to find a title for your story. Because its a generator, the titles don't always make sense, but it can make some cool titles so its pretty useful.

#writing help #prompts #generators #random prompts #random generators #plot generator #random word generator #character generators #translation #fiction prompts

17 notes · View notes

tinykitten10 · 10 years

Text

The Almost Totally Random Writing Exercise Generator

http://panthermoon.com/generators/generator3.php

500-1000 words * male character - under 18 * an empty playground

I sit down on the creaky swing. Sighing, I push my feet against the ground until I am moving at a steady pace, and I begin to swing. I look around at the broken down structures. The paint peels in random splotches of rusty metal and bright and glowing colors. It was late at night and the moon didn't shine nearly as bright as it usually did in the summer. It was as dark as my mind was at that particular moment. It hadn't been a good day for me. And oddly enough it had nothing to do with school. It was only when I actually got home that I was frustrated with everything. And I supposed that I had the right to be frustrated. My parents were very strict and demanding, especially when it came to money and the way I lived my life. It was summer break, the last day of school behind me, and all that I had wanted to do was sit in the shade of the old oak tree in the backyard and take a long awaited nap. When I got home, a nap wasn't what I had got. I had slammed the door behind me, my mother having already made me mad on the drive home, and I wasn't to keen on seeing my father after hearing what she had to say. They didn't seem to believe that I had a right to believe in anything aside from what they did, and while they usually did not get in my way when they saw that I loved something, apparently men were not on that list. It's not like I had openly done anything either. I didn't have a boyfriend, I didn't have a girlfriend, and I never said I liked boys, I just said that I didn't prefer girls. But being parents, they blew it way out of proportion and now I was stuck here for the night, too afraid to return home to the punishment that I was pretty much guaranteed at this point. I stood up from the swing, walking barefoot over to where I had left my flip flops that I had managed to grab last minute. I hoist myself up the slide nearest to the swings, the one that was yellow and made entirely of plastic that was cold to the touch in the bitter wind. I make my way to the top of the playground and lean over the railing. I yawn and stretch my arms above my head. Only for a moment do I wonder where I will go. But I already know that answer, and I have known that answer since the first time I had to sneak out of my second story window into the oak tree that I love so much. I push myself away from the railing and fling my body forward down the slide as fast as I can manage to go. The slide creaks underneath my weight and I cringe as it moves back and forth. I jump from the bottom of the slide and take my cell phone out of my pocket. I flip through my contacts, trying to find someone to call. It was late, really late, so I didn't really want to call anyone to ask them for anything, but I figured my phone would be dead in about an hour, and it was going to be way too cold to stay out tonight. I decide to randomly pick people from my contacts and determine whether or not they would kill me if I called them at this time of night. At first I didn't really find anyone. I had spoken to most of them recently, and they were most likely sleeping in late to make up for the graduation ceremony that would be held in a couple days. I groan as I go through name after name of people who really didn't know me. I came across one name, one Jeffery Hall. I rubbed my eyes to clear them as I looked away from the glare of the screen. I pressed the dial button and prayed. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Four rings. I almost hung up the phone when I heard a distinctive click and a groggy voice. "Yeah?" Jeffery sounded as if he just woke up and I quickly went to apologize, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up, man.. Gosh, I-" He scoffs, "Need a ride,bro?" I clamp my mouth shut and then quickly reply, "Yeah- my parents..." He interrupts my sentence, "Yeah, I hear ya... Be there in five, kay?" I sighed in relief and thanked him a million times over. "Yeah, Yeah, Calm down dude, jeez." I smiled as I ended the call and went to sit on the swing. He took longer than five minutes, but I suppose that didn't matter much at all, and I happily go into the front seat. "You cold..?" It wasn't really a question and we both knew it, but I nodded politely and turned the heat up about five notches. I sighed in the newly found warmth. "So, my place?" I look at him in confusion, "How did you know?" He looks at me and smiles, before rubbing his thumb over my hand and then returning it on the steering wheel. "I saw you and your mother bickering, didn't want to assume, so I didn't do anything, but I guess I made up for that, huh?" I sigh as he pulls into his driveway. He nods to me to open the door as he carries the things that I had with me into the tiny home. "You can sleep in the guest room." I nod and make my way to the room after grabbing my things from his hands. As I go to sleep that night I hold the pillow close to my body and think of the good people that inhabit this earth. And I love it so much more.

#fiction #the almost totally random writing exercise generator #prompt #writing #writing exercise #generator #generation differences #understanding #figuring out who you are #loving the world #loving who you are #being who you want #school is over #summer #empty playground #a rambling teenager #tinykitten10

3 notes · View notes

tinykitten10 · 10 years

Text

Random First Line Prompts: There was a legend about the well in the garden...

http://writingexercises.co.uk/firstlinegenerator.php

There was a legend about the well in the garden...

There was a legend about the well in the garden that was almost as old as I was. I had lived here for forty years and had not heard a word of it until I had stepped back into the attic with the dusty window. I was up there to put something away, a book of pictures, or a box of toys, it was hard to remember but it was something I had needed to get out of the way. It was dark in the attic and the light that was there must have been older than even the house because when I touched it, it shattered underneath my fingertips and pooled at the toe of my shoe. I had ignored the glass, though I don't really know why. The sane being in my mind would have already been down the ladder and under the scratchy blanket that was currently draped across the back of the couch in the living room. I remember walking towards the window with caution because I had been sure that the window was even older than the light bulb and the corrosive oils on my skin would only cause it to break as well. I tripped over something on my way there, a large square object that spread dust in the air, and effectively stopped me in my tracks with a fit of coughing. I bent over at the waist to grab the offending thing. It was old and looked to be bound by hand, sometime around the 18th or 19th centuries. It was hand painted on the cover, which was made of a peeling brown leather. I tucked it underneath my arm to read for later and moved to put away the box of random trinkets, or was it pictures? in the corner next to the various holiday-related decorations that I had stored here in the past. I dump the box on the ground and straighten, looking around at all of the junk that needed to be looked through. I decided to put it off another couple of years and made my way down the ladder as carefully as I could with a twenty pound book in the crook of my right arm. I sighed as I entered my kitchen, setting the book down on the table, and picking up the phone to answer it.

"Yeah, this is Alyssa Gilbert,"

I pace back and forth in my kitchen as I speak.

"Well, I don't really know much about the well, but it isn't like its given me trouble, so I don't think it will be a problem when it comes to selling the house..."

I close my eyes in frustration.

"Sir, oh sorry- Ma'am, I am sure that it won't affect anything. No Ma'am I haven't heard any rumors. No, I am not trying to trick you... I just-!"

I slam the phone down on the counter.

Bitch hung up on me.

I throw the phone against the couch in the other room and slouch down in the kitchen chair near the sink. The book sits, perched on the counter, almost as if it was waiting for me. I get up out of my chair and move to a closer one, situating it so that it sat at the corner of the counter where the book lay. I breathe out heavily through one side of my mouth and reach to open the thing. Stopping short I tug it off of the counter to place it on the shelf in the foyer attached to the right side of the kitchen. I decide that I should look at it later and go to grab my laptop off of the charger in the living room. I guess it wouldn't hurt to look up this legend thing she keeps spurring on about. I sigh and lift the lid of the laptop, opening up the browser to search the property. I clicked on a few links, but they were only related in terms of the city, and really had nothing to do with my particular well. I growl and fan myself with the mail that I had gathered earlier that morning. I decide to look up my house and find something interesting. A news report on a little girl that died thirty years ago? I disregard the news feed because there hadn't been anyone else here thirty years ago. Well, I was here, but I wasn't dead. Curiosity gets the best of me and I click the link to view the whole article. It states mundane things that I already knew and I almost click out when I see a message pop up in the corner screen directed at my username.The person who spoke back didn't have a username, or if it did, I couldn't see it and it was probably generic anyways. At first I ignored the little pings, but as they continued, it was almost as if they got more and more frantic. I listened until I couldn't take the noise anymore and I finally looked at what it was saying.

______: Hey! Alyssa, is it?

______: I already knew that.

______: Yeah, I bet your ignoring me...

______: Well guess what! It doesn't bother me all that much

______: Ok, maybe it does a little bit.

______: But that doesn't mean anything important!

______: Alyssa!

______: Alysssssssssa!!!

______: Alyssa!!!!!!

ParkaSparkles: Who are you?

______: Just a friendly ghost

ParkaSparkles: Last time i checked, ghosts werent friendly, or real

______: Well I am real

ParkaSparkles: How am i 2 believe that?

______: Well, I don't really know! All I know is that you know me. And that we both like sparkly things...

ParkaSparkles: Well I guess I like sparkles, but i dont no who u r

______: Well you will...

ParkaSparkles: What is that supposed-

______ has disconnected.

I growl and shut the lid to my computer in frustration... Who even was this person. I decide not to think about it and get ready for bed. It almost didn't even matter that it was only five in the afternoon.

In the morning, and I was quite surprised that it was morning and not night, I got up from the couch that I had not planned to fall asleep on and went to make breakfast. As I finished eating I spotted a van in my driveway and a familiar suit-clad woman heading towards my front door. I sigh and run my hand through my hair and tried to clear my eyes of sleep.

I walk towards my front door and open it before she has the chance to ring the doorbell- which didn't work anyways- and led her to the kitchen where my laptop was still propped on the edge of the island where I had been browsing the internet the night before.

"Sorry for the mess, I went to sleep really early last night."

"If only we could all do that." She smiles in an attempt to make amends with me for our argument the night before. I don't really pay attention though.

"So about the house...?" She perks up suddenly and smiles.

"I actually have some good news. We found someone who is willing to buy the property!" I stand up and hug her happily.

"Thank goodness! I was worried I would be here forever!"

She nods in mock sympathy and puts some papers in front of me on the table.

"We just need you to fill out these forms."

I look up in confusion, "We...."

The news blares on the television screen in a house that had been empty for weeks before hand.

June 16th

Evidence of the missing girl was found after thirty years after being declared dead when she was ten years old. Sadly the body was not found, but police forces are searching the area for any signs of the woman. If you have any information, contact your emergency services immediately.

June 28th

A body was found near a well this morning, and though it does not match the description of the girl, it is suspected that the kidnappers changed certain features through plastic surgery. It is not confirmed that this is the girl, but results point towards positive that it is. If you have any information, contact your emergency services immediately.

July 4th

As we celebrate the birth of our nation, a family mourns the loss of a child. Another body was found by the well this morning at approximately 8:00 a.m. Investigators say that they aren't sure the identity of either of the bodies, but searches are being made around the area to see if this mystery killer can be found. If you have any information, contact your emergency services immediately.

July 15th

Another body was found, approximately three miles from the well in the backyard of Alyssa Gilbert's home. She has been missing for over a month and investigators are remorseful to say that the trail has gone cold. If you have any information, contact your emergency services immediately.

July 30th

Yet another body is found another ten miles away from the house of on Alyssa Gilbert. Investigators are starting to wonder if their victim is responsible for the murders. Evidence at a crime scene pinpoints the killer to be distinctly female. If you have any information, contact your emergency services immediately.

August 25th

Parents are warned to keep their children at home until further notice. Another body was found at the central park, evidence shows it was the same person as the killer that left the bodies near the well in the Gilbert residence. The victim was considerably younger, approximately ten years old, and school has been canceled in the hope of preventing any more killings. If you have any information, contact your emergency services immediately.

October 16th

School is still canceled for the foreseeable future. If you have any information, contact your emergency services immediately.

November 1st

Suspects have been arrested in the Gilbert case. Various females of Caucasian decent matching Alyssa Gibert's description have been put through various interrogations. Parents are still warned to keep their children from public crowds and gatherings. Schools are closed (at least) until the end of the year. If you have any information, contact your emergency services immediately.

November 2nd

The Gilbert case has been suspended and it is asked that everyone returns to normal.

#fiction #random first line prompts #news stories #a rambling teenager #legend #what even was that book #idek

1 note · View note

tinykitten10 · 10 years

Text

One of Them

I replaced the German with English translations…

The next day was a dark existence. The little boy from the day before slept soundly on my bed with half of his body hung limply off the side and his eyes shut tight. His eyelashes dripped water onto the mix of dirt and tears that already stained his cheeks. His hair was a mess and I sat there now, running my fingers through the dark brown locks, removing as much water and dirt as I could if only to keep the child warm. I had not let him go home. I could not have done so with any of the justifications that they had so sprinkled at my feet. I had not believed a word that had sprouted from any of them and I believed that I had done good in that act. His house was already full. Filled to the brim with the sound of bickering and pattering feet. So many little problems to eventually overshadow the small half-drowned boy in clothes that were worn by every child before him. He did not stir as I draped the scratchy cover over his shoulders, my hands rubbing small circles in his scarred back. There was not much tolerance for disobedience in a house that was as full as his was. There was a balance that had to be obtained in the house. He must have gotten in the way to have as many scars as he did now. It was a shame, though, because he seemed to be strong and intelligent. His back rippled with muscles that I was sure would develop with time. I sat down at the table across from the boy and I propped his feet on my legs underneath my desk, rubbing at the callused soles, he sighed in contentment. As he slept I attempted to entertain myself, I grabbed the paper, fresh from the mill, and the ink that I had made that morning from the side of my desk that my feet did not rest on. I dipped and then pressed the quill to the paper and began to write. I did not write in my spoken language, but I wrote in English, slowly so as to make it legible for myself later. I don’t even know what I am to write, just that it brings calmness before everything goes wrong.

I am afraid of his awakening and how he will react to what happened. And Avila, poor, sweet Avila. As sweet as the dew on the flowers that lined her parents garden. It would make sense that he would follow her. Though I doubt that was what it really was. He probably does not even remember himself. Oh to have her here as well would bring pleasuring calmness to my heart and my mind.

I set the paper to the side, figuring that I would not get much done with the boy’s squirming making me so anxious. He stirred again, this time his eyes blinked open and he looked at me, at first with shock and confusion, but eventually with a sad understanding on a few details of what had happened. I stared back and waited for him to speak. For the briefest of moments he did not speak, his face contorted and changed with every though that I could not even begin to imagine. I did not know how to comfort him, and this frightened me. He moved his hand to his forehead and moved the mop of hair from his eyes and then back into his eyes as if to offer himself a bit of protection from my gaze, He spoke, finally, “What happened? Where is Avila! she said it would be fine, that we would not be in trouble. Where is she! She said, that we would be… that we would be… she… she promised! She promised, that we would be fine!” He slowly but surely melted into tears. His shoulders shook with sobs as he lifted himself up, covering his eyes with his arms and curling in on himself. I reached out hesitantly, at first I pulled my hand back, but I reached out again and rubbed his right shoulder, still unsure of myself, moving my hand up and down. I do not know what to say, and if those words will really mean anything to the boy. I struggle for a moment to remember his name and then hand out a generic sentence as a means of apology for something I did not have a hand in, “I’m sorry, David, I do not know how to do this, God, I’m sorry that you had to go through this … I-” I look at him, reaching my spare hand to lift his head and look into his amber eyes. Tears are gathered at the lip of his eyelid as something registers in his eyes. He seems heartbroken, and I try to guess why, though I was probably, ultimately, wrong. “You do not have to go home, you know you can stay here … with me and help me.” My words do not seem to register in his mind, so I wait, giving him time to understand the depth of what I am saying and what it requires from him. He looks up at me in confusion and shakes his head, once, twice, three times before removing his chin from my hand. “I could not do that.” I make a rash decision that I figure I may regret later on. Though it was more considerate than what I could have done, and what many others would have done, “ You have no choice in the matter.” My voice drips with a demanding substance, though in my heart there is no such determination, and I could even say it is only my mind that actually cares what happens to the boy. The boy, who despite having an odd connection to, has no idea what is going through my mind, and has no idea what I am planning. Hell, even I do not really know what I am planning, just that I am planning something that involves him. David looks up at me in shock and shakes his head. “I must go home. They are probably worried and searching for me…” I scoff, though its only for show, and yank his chin up again so that he has to look into my eyes. “ Do you really think that they care when you are away. You are just another mouth to feed. I’m sure there are many other children in your home that they. Longer than they ever were relying on you when you were not there leave be suddenly Why do you think you are here now? it is certainly not because they wanted what is best for you. Its because I took you in out of the kindness in my heart. God forbid they have a child with another problem I am here for you, I’m everything you need, just remember ..” He looks pained but lowers his head in submisson. “What are you called?” he looks away from me shyly, as if his question had offended me enough that I would strike him. Though I could not have cared either way “Matthias, and it would be best to call me that. There will be no ‘sir’ in my house. We are equal, understood?” he looked up at me for a second before lowering his eyes to the ground again. “ You should sleep, too many bad memories to plague you while you are awake.” I smile sadly at him and wrap my arm around his shoulders. My hand tangles itself in his hair, hopefully with comfort, and I whisper softly into the mass of curls.

He does not believe this is fair, or even that what I say about his family is true. But he knows that it is, even when his brain denies it. He sobs softly and nuzzles his way into my overcoat. I look down at him affectionately and move his body so that I am leaning against the wall with him hanging haphazardly across my lap. He nuzzles his nose into my neck as his sobs slowly die out and my coat lays slick with tears against my skin. I sing softly to the boy as he nods off once or twice. I whisper softly into his ear, “Go to sleep now, sweet angel..” and he breathes out brokenly before settling even more into my side.

I wake up next to the boy, having moved onto the bed in the corner, in a more comfortable position sometime in the night, or day? I did not remember when David had woken up, just that he had, and that he was a mess when he spoke. I moved him from my side, untangling our legs and removing his arms from around my waist. He had clung to me like he was dying, but it was not anything that I objected to. He made a noise in between a growl and a mewl, and moved away from my hands. I huffed at him and stood up from the bed.

I stretched my arms high above my head before slouching back down and scratching my head as I headed into the kitchen to make breakfast. A few minutes later I stepped back into the little cornered bedroom to wake up the boy, only to find him bent over, reading something on my desk. I walked up behind him and set my hand fully on his shoulder, gripping gently. He jumped a little underneath my grip and turned to look at me wide eyed. I smiled at him, “Food?” he nods and looks towards where he assumed the kitchen was. I nod at him and watch as he rushes towards the food. “Hungry, are you?” I laugh as I speak and make my way over to where the boy was looking at the breakfast laid out for one person. “I’m not hungry.” I said, looking at him expectantly, as he gave me the same look. I smiled and nodded to him, laughing as he rushed to sit and dig in to the food in front of him.

#fiction #snippet #matthias #david #so cute #a rambling teenager #tinykitten10 #this is so hard #weh #folklore #mystery?

0 notes

tinykitten10 · 10 years

Text

One of Them (Another snippet)

Please tell me what you think and what needs to be changed! The most important part of review is criticism, because it means i can improve! And obviously the German is probably really bad, and i am going to spend some time adding translations! Which will take even more time. Even if you cant see anything wrong with it, signal boosting is a big help to get this thing spread and get me more feedback. This is only a snippet of what i am working. And if you can correct German, even better! Excuse the lack of capitalization, Google Docs isnt the best option, but its what i got.

I bear the same ignorance that plagues each and every one of them. Half of them don’t even know the real cause of the First World War, let alone that the Second World War was the ‘one where Hitler killed the Jews.’ I know that it was the assassination of Franz Ferdinand, and not the Germans, even though the Germans are what spurred on the Second World War. But even then, the Germans were not the sole cause of the Second World War, but the ways that they resolved the First one that got so many countries upset with the allies. Yet when I say this I receive a barrage of comments that go along the lines of, “So what?”, “What does it matter?”, and, my personal favorite, “Who are you anyways?” The sad part is that even I do not know who I really am. Beyond my village and the city that surrounds it? Beyond the mountains that loom over everything now? The earth eroded all those years ago and yet I am the only one to remember, the only one who reads those old, torn, broken books in a library that was just as broken. And I don’t even know what lies beyond those towering rock structures. A lot of the things that I read only showed our own lack of progression. And I longed to live in such a place where there were screens, and plentiful resources, and real homes that weren’t just dirt piles with sticks lining them as if to keep the dirt and mud out when it rains. It wasn’t enough; because the water still leaked inside and the mud got into my bedclothes, because the river was polluted and the trees stubby, because the glass cut your fingers and was covered in dust. I was coming home from hunting. I was dragging my catch so as not to ask for help because it is already embarrassing enough to have a half-starved deer, let alone not being able to carry the pitiful thing. It didn’t really matter too much to me, because I didn’t have nearly as many mouths to feed as the families that surrounded my humble abode. It was still embarrassing either way. I had to be thankful that I wasn’t feeding anyone else, though, because if I had been, and I had brought this pitiful deer home, I would have been what they would eat that night. Since there were a lot of children, there was likely a replacement, anyways. I resettled the deer on my shoulder and moved through the thin gate that acted as a protection from the smaller things of nature. I pitied those who had to repair it, because the job was constant and tiring. It was a thin wall, and in no way kept any animals larger than the dogs in the pens away from the fields in our village. Even the dogs ate the food so it really was a burden to keep caring for the thing. It was useful, as it deterred most animals, but other than that it didn’t do much of anything. I walk past the small storefronts, resettling the deer once more so that I could wave at the women, gossiping out front in their homemade rocking chairs. They waved and smiled betwixt badgering their children and responding to each other with short, bark like laughs. I smile, my eyes closing, and wave at the little children who pooled around my feet. Only a couple of the women got up to keep them away from me. “Lassen ihn sein! “One of the women, the butcher’s wife barked shortly at the children. The children cheered at me, “Ihre erstaunliche! “And “ich will nur so sein wie du, wenn ich aufwachse! “ I doubted that the child knew what I actually did, but I responded politely and nodded towards the mother. “Ich bin sicher, Sie werden. Und Margaretha, die gute Pflege von diesem. “I smile and shake her hand with my free one. The deer shifts on my shoulders and Margaretha reaches out to steady me, “Sie sollten sich um sich selbst zuerst zu nehmen, Matthias.” I give my condolences and wish her a good night as I make my way to my home.

I walk through the door to my small hut. The walls are lined with branches and the windows are lined with colored glass. The glass had come from the library that I spent so much of my free time in. I had learned a new language there, one that no other in my village really knew of, and one that I had taken to using in my conversations with the shadows on the wall. I sigh and smack the deer over my shoulder and onto the table in the small kitchen conjoined with my bedroom and living room. I move to grab the knife from the drawer only to find it missing. I curse, “Gott verlassenen Kinder“and make my way back to the little clearing where the children still play. I notice that a few are actually missing and fear courses through my veins. „Margaretha, wo sind die Kinder, ich kann meinen Fleischmesser nicht finden, und ich vermute, dass sie etwas damit zu tun haben.“ She looks up at me as if i have gone mad and it takes her a minute to register exactly what i had said. She moves her eyes back and forth as if counting the children and then drops the wooden cane in her hands. „mein gott“ she exlaims and rushes towards me, „sollten sie in Richtung Wald laufen, ich ihnen geschickt hatte vor einer Stunde um Wasser zu holen, und sie kam nie zurück!“ she has started to panic and i move my arm to wrap around her shoulder, bringing our foreheads together affectionately. „es okay margaretha, werde ich in den Wald aus, und Sie werden alle Kinder im Haus zu sammeln und suchen für die Kinder da.“ Her breathing slows down significantly and she moves to herd the children inside the shambled home.

Translations

1- Leave him alone 2- your amazing 3- i want to be just like you when i grow up 4- I am sure you will. And, Margaretha, take care of this one. 5- you should take care of yourself The translations arent completely correct, but its what i remember them to be.

#one of them #matthias #folklore #something is in the forest #taking your children #its kinda scary #i wouldnt want to have that happen to me #fiction #margaretha is actually a german name #though im sure you could guess that #the same with matthias #im bored

0 notes