Berenice63

It was a beautiful day. The sky was as blue as her eyes, the clouds looked as soft as her skin. Around the grass gleamed with the dew and the flowers were just starting to perk up. The horizon was as red as her blood and as it spilled all over her apartment, the light crept over buildings. The man in the brown suit pulled at his cuffs. Reaching into his pocket his pulled out a package of cigarettes and carefully placed on at his mouth. Grabbing his lighter he shielded his smoke from the slight morning breeze and inhaled a blue cloud of tobacco. Replacing both the lighter and the package into the left pocket of his jacket, he adjusted his st

I stare at them with silent, accusing eyes. Blood drips steadily from the tips of my knives onto the luxurious carpet, staining the soft white fabric a deep crimson colour. Drip. Drip. Drip. The red matches all the red dots on my body, targets for the guns of the soldiers who surround me. They stare at me behind their face masks with accusing eyes. They whisper into their radios and yet they do not move.I have not moved from my crouched position, but the feralness has left my eyes. By hair swirls around me in a rainbow of colours, moved by a soundless wind and even though I know the outcome of this evening… I am not afraid. I am cal

Why won’t he die? The monster callously watches the human man pick up his sword and charge forward to the next wave. He ducks, moves back, parries and thrusts his sword deep into the belly of his opponent. Again the monster notches another arrow and lets it fly. And the human is stunned again (the monster wishes the human would just lie down now, it is clear that he isn’t going to survive this encounter) but continues the battle. Once again the human picks up his sword and looks towards the enemy with a snarl. The monster reaches for another arrow. Why won’t he die? Boromir knows that this is it. He isn’t not going to m

They are weak, Elrond says to himself. Weak and foolish and so hopelessly frail. The race of men will not survive this war and he wonders how it will happen. His race are leaving and soon there will be none of them left to protect the humans. The ancient halls of the Firstborn will decay into nothing and the memory of his people will fade until they are only remnants of ages long since passed. The dwarves will not be too far behind he thinks, even now the dwarves numbers are dwindling. They may think that they are indestructible but Elrond knows better. The halls of the dwarves are known to everyone and after Moria, and Elrond feels a chill r

The Big Seven. That’s what everyone calls them. They’re the first, the veterans. They are the cornerstones and the foundation. They answered the first call and have answered every call ever since. No matter what has happened the seven have endured for that is what they do. They bleed and sweat, strain muscles beyond their limits to hold up walls and ceilings. They run until they are no longer able to breathe and then run faster. They push until there is nothing left to push and then the person beside them supports them and they keep going. Because they have to for nobody else will. They are the ones that the rookies turn to, look u

Acknowledgements… Many thanks to the following persons: Mr. Merredew (teacher/editor) Lindsay Garton (inspiration/idea bouncer) Peter Bottineau (inspiration/for putting up with me) Sarah Maierl (for inspiration) Lewis Koluk (for introducing me to Clone High and Firefly) God (for talent/inspiration) I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you.  Love, Ka.S Prologue Being born is a curious thing. It all starts with attraction. A male and a female like each other and depending on the species, initiate a courting period or they immediately jump beneath the sheets. Sex then leads to the introduction of a male s

Chapter Eight Coming out of the pool and back into real life is weird. It’s so silent and peaceful in the pool, just the slapping of water and feet in a sleepy atmosphere because it’s warm in pool room. However, it’s halfway through a class so it’s quiet and there are no voices that talk to me. I don’t have to worry about what I do or do not hear, or what I think I’m hearing. Hallways are like some sort of pre-orchestra without a conductor. Everyone is an instrument but nobody plays in time. It’s all a jumble of meaningless noise and whispers and sly, half lidded looks. I don’t hear sentences or imagin

Chapter Thirteen ‘CCCCAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMRRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYYN!” Zoë calls, highlighting the ‘am’ in my name and drawing out the “in” while rolling the “R’.  I wave back at her and rip open the envelope that contains my mid term marks, the door to my future. Zoë sits herself down beside me and beams. “How are you?” I ask, skimming over the remarks from the teachers. “Excellent!” she chirps. “I got an email from my mom. She’s alright with you and Denise coming over and us going backpacking! She’s going to make us trail mix!” I wrinkle my nose in disgu

The first time she saw the flame, she was a little girl in her homeland. It was a small flame, flickering on the walls, colours reflecting in her eyes.  The flame was so beautiful, tiny and yellow. It was connected to a short purple candle that sat on a stone pillar. If she stood on her tip toes, she could be just at eye level with the flame. “Don’t touch,” Her mother warned, tugging her back. “It’s time to go home.” The little girl pouted. “Can’t I stay just a little longer?” she asked. “No. But don’t fret my dear, we will be back tomorrow. And soon enough, you will be looking af

Confusion A fog  No end. No direction. No help.  I’m lost. And nobody can point out a likely path. Alone.  No help.  I’m lost   and   frightened   of wrong choices and mistakes…    Please forgive me. What do I do? Follow one way but No another? What is best for me… But what about you?  I don’t know myself.  I don’t know the way.  I can’t help myself.  A fog.   No end.  No direction.  No help.   I’m lost in this labyrinth. Please Somebody help me.