This is the story of a girl. And while she didn’t cry a river and drown the whole world, she definitely grew up alone and scared. I’m looking at that girl who huddled into a corner the minute I entered the brightly lit room. I see the small roman numeral tattoo on the inside of a thin, pale wrist of XV and I know that I’ve found who I’m looking for. I’m looking for a little girl with rust coloured hair in a dirty orphan’s smock. If these rumours are true, the little waif of a child in front of me has a special talent.
I refuse to be…
a cookie-cutter shaped
of a person.
I refuse to conform…
To the expectations of
To be weak,
To be silenced.
To be bullied
and afraid of
those around me.
I outright refuse…
To engage in
To go with the flow
and never be myself.
I refuse so much
to become a better person
in my own way.
Let me be,
let me love,
let me stop pretending,
to be something that
Six months had passed in the blink of an eye as Zosimus entered Jem’s small, undecorated room and woke the little girl. She whined sleepily and curled away from his touch as the lights flickered into life at the snap of his fingers. He watched with a smile on his face as she burrowed into the blanket.
“Jem, it is time to get up,” Zosimus chided her softly as he began pulling the white comforter away from her.
She did not like the mornings one bit. They were the coldest time of the day for her and it was always a bit of a war to get the little girl out of her bed in the mornings. Most children who were sent down from the Cribs only needed the heating pad of their beds on for the first few weeks. In Jem’s case, they had remained on because of her aversion to the cold. She was more accustomed to it than six months previous but when the cold snap had begun, Zosimus had had no choice but turn it back on for her.
“I know that you are cold but I have warm clothes for you to wear,” he said soothingly. “Today is your initiation into the Angbroda and you will be sent away if you do not go through with this.”
It had been six months since Jem had come to Enceladus. It was also her birthday; her seventh to be exact. She had grown by two inches instead of shrinking as most of the children did and had fully come out of her shell. She could walk under her own power and no longer required periods of rest. She was a bright, happy child who brought a sense of joy to those who knew her. She was strong enough to be a normal kid in an abnormal world. She sat in the office of the doctor who had been caring for her since her arrival, her face glued to the tablet in front of her.
“Jem,” Julian called. “You can come in now.”
“Can I have five more minutes please? I just got –“
“Jem, put the tablet down,” the doctor broke in. “I do not have all day to wait for you to finish whatever you are doing.”
Jem’s eyes opened slowly and took quite some time to focus as she reached out a hand to feel for the barrier that blocked Daddy from her. She felt warm and comfortable wherever she was. There was a faint beeping in the background that was easy to ignore before a strange face appeared over the edge of the bed she was placed in. She sat up with a start before slumping forward. It was her first time experiencing gravity and it left her feeling ill as she was gently placed back into her original position. Even those simple movements left her dizzy and tired.
“Zosimus,” a voice called out. “Your charge is awake.”
“Ah,” a gravelly voice responded. “What is her condition?”
And here I am, giving my story of The Child of Destiny another go! This is my work for Camp NaNoWriMo. Check the links page for further details! Thoughts so far would be greatly appreciated. 😀
The planet was Enceladus. It is a world comprised of ice that is surprisingly teeming with life. The people of other worlds had always thought that it was an inhabitable world. That is, until the domes were built in the numerous craters that meteors had created over the millennia. The planet was farthest away from the sun of its system and was the only planet of its name. Its days were short and only those who were deemed strong enough after initiation could live on its surface. The lone moon of the world orbited on an abstract route and made the days pass in a lazy manner.
Even as the lazy moon as it was called by the people of Enceladus lived on its surface, several stations orbited the planet that were teeming with young life. It was there on those station that the young were bred for habitation. They began their studies at an early age and did not hesitate to send the weaker children to a lone station farthest from the planet. These children were special and were deemed to have special gifts that would be vital to the prosperity of their world in the near future. These little ones were far and few between. They were pale skinned, light haired and bright eyed children who were sent to a lone man for care.
The old man sat precariously on the throne, guarded by several large pyres of ice. Icy blue skin and eyes contrasted tremendously with his white hair, woolly beard and rich robes, and a mischievous smile gave his face a mischievous look. Where was he going to send the next squall or blizzard? Germany? France? Southwestern Ontario, Canada? The wicked grin changed to a thoughtful frown as his pyres began to shrink. He knew that his time on the throne was coming to an end soon. He had to throw out as many storms and pleasantries of his season before the enormous doors banged open.
“Old Man Winter!” Came her cheery voice. “Times up!”
“Ah yes,” he said as snowflakes blew out with every word. “Spring. How have you been dear?”
Spring was a budding woman no older than thirty with green curly hair tumbling down her shoulders. Her golden eyes shined with renewal, and her hands were placed precariously on her hips. Broad leaves covered her slender figure before she stormed up to the ice barrier and pointed a long, green nail from an avocado toned finger that graced her whole body. The overuse of green in springs’ attire annoyed Winter to no end.
“How have I been, Old Man?” She asked tartly. “How have I been?! I’ve been trying to warm this area up for weeks, and you keep pushing me away because you feel inclined to drop another three feet of snow on some poor town.”
Winter heaved a mighty, dreary sigh before flicking his weathered wrists to give Spring a path to enter. “Come Spring, why all this complaining? I’m only doing my job, the same as you.”
“I quite happen to like the sounds of baby birds and smells of tulips, thanks.” She responded crisply. “Winter is over, Old Man and it’s my turn to play on the throne for the next little bit.”
“Tell me Spring,” Winter challenged. “How do you propose to get me off my throne? The world would look fantastic in a blanket of white, don’t you think?”
“Let me think about that,” Spring spat back. “No. Never. Not gonna happen. Pack your bags, clear out the chambers and for the love of all things sane, get rid of all this ice!”
Winter’s booming laughter reverberated in the large hall before he rose to his feet. Spring had always amused him and he felt like taunting her a bit more. She was like a cat chasing a ball full of catnip when she rose to the occasion like this. “Tell me Spring, if I were to… abdicate the throne to you today, what would you give me in return?”
“What’s in this for you? Simple,” she said confidently with a snap of her fingers. Threads of green began creeping up the old man’s legs. “You hand over the throne, and I won’t turn you into a green old man Winter.”
He smirked at her spunky nature. “Really Spring. You would turn this poor old man into a hedge statue. Really my sweet girl, you wound me.”
“I could always turn you into a tree. You’re certainly tall enough, and the bird and squirrels would love to make their homes on or in you,” she shot back with a wink. “A nice flowering Tulip Tree would suit you just fine.”
“Really my dear, you know I don’t like tulips.” He groaned.
“Thus their appeal.” She returned smugly. “Big, tall and pink, purple and white all spring. After that, Summer would have a blast with you!”
“Ah yes, Summer has always been a pain.”
“We’re the younger seasons, old man. We’re supposed to be carefree and fun. You and Fall? Well, you’re the old farts who try to keep the young’uns in line and all that old fart stuff that Fall spouts.”
Winter shook his head at the girl before levelling a hard look at her. “Watch your tone or I’ll refuse to give you the throne six weeks early.”
Spring waved her dismissively at the threat. “Please, like anybody believes what those groundhogs say. I bet you’ve been paying them to see their shadows and go back to sleep for another six weeks.”
Clever girl thought Winter and Spring merely grinned that smug little grin of hers.
“You can correct me if I’m wrong,” she quipped.
“SILENCE!” He bellowed before stepping off the throne’s dais. He glared daggers at the girl before sweeping past her with one last cold blast. “Foolish child, you’ll pay for this insolence next year.”
“I’ll be waiting,” she quipped in response.
Spring skipped up the dais and settled herself on it as the pyres of ice were quickly disposed of and replaced with several broad, newly budding trees. The chamber was filled with the scent of the forest as Winter slammed the doors behind him. Year after year, Spring always reminded Winter of one solitary point.
Spring was more than a pretty face.
This post was inspired by this prompt. Although, instead of making Spring male, I opted for a female, more spunky Spring! Also, Grammarly is amazing. If you have the extra cash lying around, give it a shot.
I suppose one could say that getting back into writing poetry is going to let me explore the different styles all over again. The other day, I wrote a sonnet and I appreciate those likes that every one left! Today, I bring to you a dramatic monologue. Enjoy it! 😀
Come here, my child and listen well.
For today I have a wondrous story to tell.
It involves a young boy who loved to climb trees
And of the marvellous sights that he saw.
He began to climb trees at the age of three.
Much to the chagrin of his Mother,
He was quite sturdy on his feet and grinned a toothy grin
At his Mother whilst she stared in horror
At her baby boy.
He didn’t climb high
This boy was most certainly not feline in nature
As one day, he fell at the tender age of six.
With his arm in a cast and a sulk about his countenance
But alas, for it did not break his spirit.
The minute that the cast was removed,
He was ready to climb again.
He leapt out of the car and with a
Mighty barrelling that shook the earth around him to its core,
He cascaded up the tree, tickled pink to feel
The rough texture of bark under his fingers again.
His Mother, petrified to the ground by the gate to their yard
Stared slackjaw and wide-eyed at her reckless little boy.
Boys will be boys, she thought, oh she thought hard.
And in the end, when the little boy was done with his climb,
He came inside to eat dinner with the broadest
Grin on his face that his parents had ever seen.
They knew then and there what they’d been
Denying, avoiding, for such a long time.
They realized then and they still believe it now.
For their little boy with his scraped elbows,
Dirty knees and
Grass-stained denim shorts,
That he was destined for great things.
And great things he did.
He lives in our history, an icon, a martyr.
When the world cried foul after his many
Innings as a pitcher of politics,
He was cast aside, assassinated
And grew to infamy.
So I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m telling you this tale
Of adventure and tragedy.
Your life is a blessing and
You should take care.
Your adventure has just begun and
Don’t ever dream of letting it get away.
(The following story was based upon the writing prompt shown on the left. It may seem a bit juvenile but I wrote it with younger readers in mind!)
Once upon a time in a land far away lived a kindly old knight. He was very wise for a man of his years and had trained many great knights in his time. Many of those knights had gone on to do many great deeds but that is a story for another day.
The kindly old knight wore his armor with care. It shone from hours of meticulous attention as the sun’s rays bounced off it happily. With his shield on his right arm and his mighty sword strapped to his back, he was busy walking the trail toward what many thought was a town to rest for the night. Little did those he passed know that he was off to visit his dear friend the old, wise dragon.
Now who would’ve thought that there would ever be a dragon that man would be friends with? Well this was no ordinary dragon. He was rather small for a dragon and didn’t have many dragon friends as a result. The dragon also didn’t like to terrorize the countryside and have knights from all over the world coming to slay him. He guarded no treasure nor did he breathe any fire. He was merely a small blue dragon with hide the colour of the ocean and carefully filed claws.
The knight with his long white beard and matching moustache marched along the trail between the farmlands with purpose and the country folk paid him no mind. They thought that he was on patrol to protect the people from brigands and that was all right with them. He walked for quite some time through the rolling countryside hills dotted with brush and outlined with the bright green treetops on the horizon until at last he came to the cave where the dragon lived.
“Hello, my friend!” the knight called into the mouth of the jagged cave. “Are you home?”
“I am, my friend Bob.” the dragon replied with a raspy lisp. He was a very polite dragon and always spoke to his friends with great respect. “I have just put on some tea, would you like to join me for a cup?”
“I thought you’d never ask, Steve.”
Bob entered the cave without caution as this was not your typical dragon. The fragrant smell of Steve’s tea filled the air as the knight went into the well-lit home and settled himself on an old wooden stool. The duo engaged in the usual pleasantries between the two of them. The kids were doing fine and making names for themselves, the wives were fine and the kingdom they called home was at peace. Bob and Steve talked with each other for quite some time before Bob rose to his feet.
“I’m afraid that I must be on my way back home, my friend,” Bob explained. “My wife is expecting me home and I must not be late.”
With a rumbling laugh, Steve bobbed his head. “Just one minute, Bob.”
Steve went into the kitchen of his home and returned a few moments later with a carefully wrapped package in his hands. It was a freshly prepared sweet bread for the old dragon had grown tired of the taste of meat and had turned to sweets instead.
“For your wife and children my friend,” Steve said as he held the package out to Bob which he took with pride.
“Thank you, my friend. I’m sure that we’ll enjoy it greatly. You’ve always baked the sweetest treats for me and my family.”
“I am glad to hear that,” Steve replied as Bob made his way out of the cave to start his journey back to his village.
Steve stood at the entrance to his cave and watched Bob walk over the hills until he could no longer see his friend on the horizon. He knew that his friend would visit him again sometime in the future months as he went back inside his cave to enjoy the rest of his day in contentment.
(it was a writing prompt, honest!)
Relationship advice. Considering my lack of experience with relationships, this might be coming from the wrong person. It seems to me like stress is a big factor in why people are breaking up but this is coming from a rather logical mind so you’ll have to forgive my bluntness on the topic. Stress makes us say and do things that we all regret regardless of whether or not you’re in a relationship. I would say to find another way to deal with your stress that doesn’t involve a fight or petty squabble. You could go for a walk to cool your head, write down your feelings, or just punch a pillow. Sure, it might sound great to just scream at someone for a good long time but it isn’t the healthiest thing to do in the world and it’s only going to end in disaster.