I sat on a chair with my head spinning in every which way and stomach churning. My eyes were held shut because I knew if I decided to open them I would puke even though my stomach was clearly empty. People held onto me, afraid that if they let go I would tip over. They began to remove body jewelry, shoes and other unnecessary clothing. A woman’s soft voice echoed in my head, “Hannah, Hannah. Can you tell me where you are?” she asked. More voices filled my head and they kept asking their questions as if they were the most important ones. “Screw off!” was going to be my reply if my mouth would’ve move.
Truly and honestly I couldn’t remember anything. Everything was a blur beginning when the night was starting. My ‘best friend’ had decided I was a liar. That much I could remember. I had been in that situation more than once. It was the story of my life: friends back stabbing me because they are afraid of me. I’m not scary and you think an honest friend would know that.
I remember feeling frightened and wanting to go to sleep and wake up only when everything was over. But I knew that wouldn’t be possible since her and another one of my friends were on their way to my house. I curled up in my bed, clenching onto a bloody knife. My wrist had been slit in order to get all my anger out. “Damn it. Why?” I sobbed, jumping outta bed. I reached over for a water bottle and my retainer case that held my trippy pills. I didn’t know what they were, but I knew they made me trippy if I took just two. I counted out eight and placed them in my mouth, hoping maybe I would pass out and nobody would be able to wake me up from my deep slumber. “Hannah?” my mom whispered, turning on my bed light. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m going to bed.”
“Okay. Tomorrow is a new day and we all can start over.” She blew me a kiss then shut my door. She was right. Tomorrow was a brand new day and I could pretend nothing happened. The only sign of today that would be left are the texts and the bleeding cuts that will turn into scars soon.
“GO SHAKE THAT LAFFY-TAFFY! THAT LAFFY-TAFFY! AH! CANDY GIRL!” my cell phone screamed. I ran over to answer it, secretly hoping it was James, but it read Danyel. I felt the tears began to well in my eyes and my heart sank. “Why the hell won’t you leave me alone?” I threw my unanswered phone across the room and into the sofa. The ringing ended. I thought her harassing me had ended forty minutes ago, but no. “GO SHAKE THAT LAFFY-TAFFY! THAT LAFFY-TAFFY! AH! CANDY GIRL!” this time the screen read Shaylee. I held the ignore button down till I felt satisfied she wouldn’t call back. “GO SHAKE THAT LAFFY-TAFFY! THAT LAFFY-TAFFY! AH! CANDY GIRL!” Delaney (Shaylee’s younger sister) name came to the screen. I pressed ignore, but it only took seconds till they decided to call again, but this time on my younger sister’s phone. I watched the lights blink on and off rapidly, this could’ve been an emergency. I pressed answer and Danyel’s voice came on, “Hannah! T-“ I pressed end and went to hide underneath my covers. I was safe from monsters there as a child, I would be safe from them there now. Stop calling me or I swear to god I’ll hurt myself. I text to my sister’s phone. Don’t say that! I don’t take that lightly! You’ve tried it before! Her concern seemed fake to me. Why would anyone care if I died? Then have everyone stop calling me damn it! I hoped my point came across, but the fake concern only grew as she repeatedly text me not to do it or say things like that. I didn’t reply.
The bedroom door flew open, making my walls rattle and posters shutter, “Hannah! Come up stairs now!” my mother yelled franticly. “Okay, I have her now.” She said into her blackberry.
I rolled, literally, out of bed and flopped onto the floor. Eight pills, I thought to myself, I’m not going to be able to hide it. My heart beat fast, so fast my ears began to boom. “Wh-hat?” I asked sitting down on the brown leather couch upstairs. My mom sat beside me and I laid my dizzy head onto her lap. She brushed my dark hair out of my eyes and whispered it would be okay and that everyone was coming over. I started to cry again. My pills weren’t relaxing me at all. I started to shake. My body couldn’t hold still and my breathing grew heavy. It felt like I was having a horrible heart attack that wouldn’t come to an end.
The door bell rang and my mom stood up, leaving me shaking out of control on the couch. Miley and her dad Devin took off their shoes and walked over to me, moments later Danyel and Shaylee ran into the house. I rested on the floor and Miley above me. She held me between her legs so I could not fall over. Her long fingers ran through my knotted hair until it was smooth. “We want to talk to Hannah alone!” Shaylee yelled to my mom.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do that.” She replied calmly, “She is my daughter and I need to protect her…”
“We aren’t going to hurt her!” Danyel, with swollen eyes, fought.
“Peace and love, you guys. Stop yelling.” I chuckled, “Whatever you say in front of me you can say in front of my peoples.”
Miley laughed and patted my head.
“What is she on?” Shaylee snapped, flailing her arms in the air. “You are drugging her!”
“Prozac. The doctor put her on it f-“
“-You guys are drugging her! She is perfectly fine! Hannah! You don’t need this…” she cried.
“She’s bipolar, Shaylee! Sh-“
“-No! She is perfectly fine!”
“Damn it! Stop yelling!”
“Then stop drugging her! Let us talk to her alone!” Shaylee got in my mom’s face. Miley held me closer to her, as if she was trying to protect me from everything going on, and, honestly, I would let her. I needed it.
“Miley.” I laughed quietly, too quiet for anyone to hear.
“She’s like her father! She’s not right in the head!”
“I can’t do this.” Danyel sobbed and ran out of the house, Shaylee, of course, was right behind her.
I closed my eyes for a minute, ignoring the front door slamming open then closed then open again, ignoring the voices in and outside of my head and trying to focus on my rapid beating heart. “Go! Sit! Now!” my mother screamed in her devil voice. Our dog whimpered and I cowered closer to Miley.
“It’s okay.” Miley whispered. Her voice was shaky, not comforting at all.
“I’ll talk to them.” I gurgled. “In the kitchen…Okay? Mama, I’m okay.”
“You sure, huney?”
“Y-Yeah.” I got to my feet, barely, and stumbled into the kitchen, with Miley holding onto my hips. “I- Danyel. I need a hug.” I fell into her arms and whispered what I had done earlier that night….
The rest of that long night was meshed into one big blur full of crying, questions, ivies, doctors and ambulances.
So now I occupy a hexagon shaped room with a stale mattress, desk, locked cabinet and a ½ a person bathroom. The ceilings seem to go up forever and never end while the cramped walls are a nasty cream.
I lay patiently on my mattress in a pair of sky blue socks that didn’t belong to me, blue sweat pants and a black TOKIO HOTEL t-shirt. I don’t remember changing. “Hannah?” the locked door clicked open and a short red headed nurse smiled at me, “Time to take a shower okay? Then come out here and talk to me when you are done.”
“O-Okay.” I got off my bed, my knees wiggled until they finally gave out and I was on the floor. “Damn.” I mumbled, planting my palms on the red carpet and was able to crawl over to the ½ person bathroom.
Removing my clothing was easy. The real challenge was staying standing while showering. “One-two Freddie’s coming for you.” I sang, “Three-four better lock the door. Five-six grab your crucifix.” I washed the last bit of stink out of my hair and off my body with the ice like water and got out. No shampoo, no soap, no towel. I got dressed dripping wet and would have to let my hair air dry curly.
“Hannah?” a dirty blonde nurse said. She sat in an open area and behind a big desk with several other nurses. Doors, like mine, were all over the place and there were three hallways to choose from, which had more doors to choose from.
“May I pass?” a short tan girl with dreadlocks and dressed in pajamas asked the nurse. She nodded. The girl walked pass two door frames before she turned.
“May I pass?” I asked.
“Yes. Go where Brie went and you’ll have dinner, okay?” she talked to me like I was a child. Jerk was the only word I had for this woman.
I walked where she directed me, into what was a small white tile and wall room with two big tables pushed together. Five other kids sat there. They all looked normal. One of the boys was Mexican and really young looking, he seemed like a happy kid. The other boy was dressed in a white t-shirt and basketball shorts, making him look like an athlete. He was cute. Three girls, one which was the Brie, looked sorta normal too. One was a short haired black girl. She had a big smile plastered on her face from the moment I came in. The other was a gorgeous brunette with perfect skin and the biggest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. Brie seemed to be the only troubled looking one, besides me and my emo appearance.
“Hi.” The black girl said. You could tell she was gay right off the bat. “It’s about time you woke up.”
“What time is it?” I asked, taking my seat across from the gorgeous brunette.
“A little after five thirty.” Brie answered. “You’ve been asleep for almost two days.”
“Oh.” I had gotten what I wanted. To go to sleep and wake up when everything was over. It’s over.
“Hannah.” The red headed nurse said, “Here is some food. You must be starving.” She handed me a Styrofoam box that had a ham and cheddar sandwich in it.
“Not really.”
“Well try to eat.”
“I’m Tascha.” The black girl introduced. “That’s Brady,” she pointed to the athlete, “That’s Macey and that’s Salvatore and Brie.”
“Hi.”
“You’ve been sleeping along time.” Macey said before she took a sip from a Styrofoam cup. Salvatore nodded in agreement.
I waited for Brady to say something, but he continued to eat his salad without taking time to breathe between chews.
“So Jessica was saying how she was going to wait for me when I get out of here…” Tascha said, continuing the conversation that was being carried before I interrupted. “I can’t wait to see her.” She shoved the last bit of her BLT in her mouth then started cleaning up. Everyone rolled their eyes as in a ‘silly Tascha’ way. “She’s giving me a second chance after cheating on her, so this is a big deal. You all don’t get it.”
“No, we do.” The red headed nurse said, “And nobody wants to hear it, hun.”
“Goodness. Don’t have to be so rude.” She sat down next to me and just smiled.
“What?” I asked, a bit creeped out.“Something on my face?”
“So you O.D.ed? Do you remember anything?”
“I did?” I looked to the faithful red head, her name tag read Rachel, “Did i?” she nodded and gently smiled.
“So you don’t? What were you thinking before you t-“
“Tascha!” Brie snapped, she held her knees close to her chest. “I like Tokio Hotel too.”
“What?” I asked, looking around. “Oh.” She was talking about my shirt.
“I like them too.” Macey added. She was so pretty. I wondered if Brady liked her. “I haven’t gotten a chance to listen to their CD yet.
“Then quit running away.” Tasch jumped back into the conversation. I starred, confused. “She’s a runaway.”
“I’ll after this.” She paused, “Who would’ve guessed it would be so uncomfortable to sleep in a shed, big enough for a dog, for almost two months.”
It got silent and awkward. Brady stood up to throw away the container his salad was in then went to grab a sanitization wipe to clean up his spot. “Not me.” He finally said, “Anyone up for cards after group?” he slapped the pocket over his chest where a deck of cards (that looked like a pack of cigarettes) were being held.
“I’ll play B.S.” I said.
“Nah, I’m sick of that game.” He walked through the back door of the room, everyone else fallowed. I took the hint and moved along as well, after cleaning up my stuff, of course.
It was a large room with colorful couches all along the walls, a television against a spot where the couches ended and a bunch of shelves with movies were in the room. The dirty blond nurse from the desk was sitting in a chair in the middle of the room. “Okay. Want to read me your goals everyone?” it was more of a command than a question.
I took a seat next to Brie, but still fair enough away because I knew we were not friends. I crossed my legs and held my head up high, trying to keep my frightened tears in. I’m in this strange place and nobody will give an explanation to me. “Hannah?” the nurse, named Ashley, asked. “Do you know why you are here?”
“N-No…” I stuttered. I did, though. I was here because I wanted to die. I wanted to die like every other teenager in this room, except maybe Tascha. She seemed too happy to be here…wherever this place is. “I don’t.”
“You are here because of suicidal ideation after attempting to overdose by taking pills given to you by a boy at your school.”
“My old school.” I muttered under my breath. Nobody heard me.
“Your treatment plan is no suicidal ideation or behavior for seventy-two hours. You must participate in all nursing assessments, take medication prescribed by physician, identify five coping skills and five triggers to avoid dangerous behavior, and express how you feel in daily TR Groups to practice expressing.” When the nurse finished talking I felt dizzy. She used so many words I had no clue what they meant. How did she expect me to get out of this place if I didn’t understand what she was saying.
“Where are my shoes?” I asked, staring out the window. I longed to walk outside on the fresh snow.
“You can’t have them right now. Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes. I have to not be suicidal.” I answered.
Grendal Story
Ben Johnson, 8th grade
I am the most feared creature of the human race. I live in a swamp far away from my human food source and walk to the village every so often. Some people say the mere sight of me can kill you; others say that my smell can rot your skin away. To be honest I just think that my claws can kill you. Some nights I can hear those partying and I have an urge to kill someone. One night I had just about had enough of their singing and partying. I ran to their village and burst open the doors. I almost ate every last one, but I couldn't because I was too full. I ran home and slept for the next week.
I was having a good day playing Marco Polo with my mother at our swamp and we decided to have lunch. She sent me to retrieve some fresh Geet from the village. On the way I spotted a herd of sheep and decided to have an appetizer. I ripped their heads off and ate their guts. "mmmm... yum," I said. I started walking again, time passed and it felt as if I was going nowhere. It started to get dark and I though, "Should I go home? No, but what about mother?" I continued on hoping that my mother wouldn't worry about me. By the time that I got to the village the moon was at its highest peak and the coyotes were howling. I crawled over to the palace and ate the guards outside of the door. I tapped on the doors and they flew open and I ate half of the Geets and stuck the other half on a stick for my mother. There is only one Geet that I can never find; his name is Hrothgar, King of all Geets.
I had to run home so that my mother would not worry about me. She was pleased with what I had brought her. She feasted for the rest of the night. We slept for two days and were awoken by the sound of cheering and some guy bragging. I wanted to see what was going on so I ran to the hills by the shoreline and saw a Viking ship and a muscular man and his crew. I heard the man that they called Beowulf say that he was going to try to kill me, "What a loon," I thought as I scratched my butt.
I ran home to tell my mother what I had found out and what I was going to do about it. I was going to the palace and wipe them off the face of the earth. I waited until about an hour 'til sundown and ran to the palace. I blew open the doors and roared my beastly roar and ate a Viking. I opened my eyes to see a bunch of drunken Vikings, but only one was naked. I focused my vision on him to see that it was Beowulf. I walked over to him and reached down to grab him and eat him, but like a ninja he snatched my wrist and thrust me to the ground. He has me in a half nelson, now a full nelson, ohh now he's beating me with Bobby Nelson. I couldn't bear it any longer, I stood up and tried to shake him off me, but suddenly I couldn't move my elbow or even twiddle my fingers. I looked to my side... my arm, ripped out of its socket, was lying on the ground. I ran home and fell into my mother's arms as my soul faded away.
A Monstrous Mother's Lament
Elizabeth Wharton (8th)
"Grendal! Grendal! Come home! Where are you?"
The storm raged on as I cried this, slipping out of the sea. I was soaked from head to toe with salty water that dripped into my crimson eyes. My hands trembled with worry as I climed onto the shore. Rain stung my face, as if a swarm of bees was attacking me. I squinted my eyes, trying to see where I was going. To see if my baby boy was out there, waiting for the right moment to come home. Where is he? I thought, where had he gone? I didn't know. I could not even imagine where he would go.
"Grendal!" I called. "Grendal, where are you?" My chalk face was dripping horribly of water. I shook my head, trying to get it off. My attempts were useless so I stood in the rain, eyes darting to catch a glimpse of him. But my desperate cries were unheard, for the wind howled even louder. "Please Grendal! Come home!" I tried again, screaming it at the top of my lungs.
No answer...
I stepped out of the safety of the sea where I had been dancing back and forth, unsure where to go, and rushed back into the trees. I climbed up one tree and jumped on another, leaping back and forth around the woods. I reached for another branch to climb even higher, pausing every minute or so to call out for my son once more. "Grendal!"
For the first time, I thought I heard his little whimper. I stopped where I was, to listen, but nothing made a sound. All I could hear was the wind's deafening roar and thunder claps from not too far away.
"Mother..."
I jumped at the voice, nearly slipping off an oak's branch. The branches were becoming slick and slippery but I didn't care. It was definitely my boy's voice! He was here somewhere! But where? Where? I jumped off the tree and landed gracefully, splashing a little because I landed in a puddle. I raced into a clearing, judging by the direction the voice came from, to find the familiar outline of my baby sinking into a freshwater pond. I rushed to his side, diving into the pond's unwelcoming, pure waters, and seized Grendal in a motherly embrace. I shrieked.
His arm... It... It was gone. It took me a while to register it into my breain, to tell myself that my son's arm was completely gone. I couldn't speak. Every sound I could muster was gone.
How? How did this happen? Who would be so heartless to do this to him? A young man who just desired a few nights of sweet, well-needed rest? Who? Again, I did not know.
The smell of blood overwhelmed me. Precious, bubbling blood oozed out of the gaping hole where his arm should have been. It slipped silently off him and into the depths, causing the water to bubble also. I sniffled as the water flashed a violent neon green then quickly changed to a deep shade of scarlet.
"G-G-G-G-Grend-d-dal..." I stammered. "Wh-Who d-d-d-did this t-to y-you?"
Grendal's dim eyes traced my face weakly. His lips moved slowly as he spoke a barely audible whisper. "Beowulf...Of the Geets." His face was taut of pain, speckled with dots of my tears and his own blood. He rasped. "Mother, I am so sorry..."
"Shhhh, it's okay. There's nothing to be sorry about." I assured him. My attempts to keep my voice normal were wasted. It was unusually high, and I knew he knew I was upset. "I'll get you home. It will be alright."
"No, don't," Grendal rasped feebly. "Mother, I...I..." He gave a rattling breath and fell limp. I stared at him, my heart stopping. I shook him, crying out.
"Grendal... Come on, hon', wake up. Don't play tricks on me. Please." He didn't budge, his eyes still staring lifelessly at me. The truth crashed down on me but I could not believe it. It couldn't be true...Not him. "You're fine. You're fine. You're alright. You got to be alright!" I was on the verge of hysterics. "Grendal! WAKE UP! PLEASE!"
Grendal stayed where he was; a broken, limp body of a demon. The agony had never been so intense before. My son was gone. Never ever, would he smile or laugh. Never would he come home to visit me where we would talk for hours about his dreams for the eternal life he would have, should have. He would never get the chance to experience the great joys of a lifetime. My son was gone. Doomed to death.
Then it came to me.
I knew what I had to do. I was going to find this "Beowulf of the Geets" and make him hurt. The maniac that maimed my son was going to pay. The same pain that my baby went through, that murderer was going to feel it. He will. He will. Beowulf, I will find you. * * * * *
The savages of humanity, I knew, would be celebrating their false victory. They would be soaked with rum, drunk with excitement during the party. Most likely, after a dozen drinks, the men would pass out and fall into a deep sleep that even the loudest roar couldn't disturb them.
I knew what I had to do. I had to kill someone important to the pathetic scoundrel that called himself "King" of this land that was rightfully mine. The King would become hysterical, calling for Beowulf for his rescue. This would lure him out of the safety of his friends. He had to be alone.
I stopped walking, with the rain still pelting my face. I glared hatefully at the castle that loomed out of the darkness. Herot was in my grasp. I would have no mercy once I have Beowulf. Once I got rid of him, I would take over Herot and make the citizens live in hiding once again, quiet as if they never existed. It would be what Grendal wanted.
Slipping into the shadows, I continued to trudge towards the castle. I made it to the door in quick time and pushed open the door iwht my toe. I silently stepped inside and was relieved to see that the guards were not out. I snuck in even farther to walk into the hallway to find a bunch of sleeping men. I smirked at the snores that filled the air. Men are so stupid, I thought with a mental laugh. I sidestepped over the bodies and flailing limbs. I looked up and froze in my tracks. There, on the wall, was Grendal's precious arm.
Fiery rage engulfed me. "Those savages!" I stormed quietly, hurriedly walking closer to snatch my son's arm. "Treating a corpse as a trophy? Who do they think they are?" I groaned loudly, causing the sound to reverberate throughout the halls. None of the men awoke so I returned to my task. Tucking Grendal's arm under mine, I searched for a victim.
I glanced down at the man closest to my left. I had seen him on many occasions accompanying the King on horseback, lurking on the shores that were right above my lair. He laughed and taunted us, as in demons, calling angels. To a demon, angels were the worst insult you could get. A gruesome, but wonderful thought crossed my mind. A sharp fanged smile graced my ruby lips. I could get rid of him too. Two birds killed by one stone. Simple.
I leaned over him and quickly slit his throat, slightly cringing at the sight of crimson pouring out of his skin. I hate to wake up and see that! I thought, Well, this is for my little boy! With one last glance, I walked quickly around the sleeping men and raced out into the night, preparing myself for the murder of the maniac that slaughtered my son.
* * * *
Back at home, I tenderly placed Grendal's arm on top of the fireplace so I could gaze at it. As soon as I was finished with Beowulf, I was planning to rejoin his arm with his body and bury him in the cave. I hope it was fine with him to wait.
I took a long moment to gaze at his arm, remembering that I had held that arm so many times. Ever since he was a baby! I added in thought. I could not take it much longer. What was I suppose to do? Cry? The thought of crying did sound like a good idea. Well, not a good idea, but I felt like it would be good to let all of the sickening emotions out. Would it? I needed closure.
My lips quivered and I let out a mournful cry. Shaking my head, I paced back and forth around the room and cried to my heart's content. He is gone! Gone! Those words screamed at me, shattering every microscopic bit of hope I had to dust. I was all alone now.
I froze.
Something was stirring out of the water from behind me. I could hear the familiar ripple of the water. I had memorized the sound of Grendal's ripple, which was loud and ended with a pluoop. However, this was much smaller and had a small pop. My hear pounding, I whirled around to face...
Beowulf...
He was rather a large man with pulsing biceps that oozed seawater. He wore armor and a sword hung at his waist. I glared at his dark hair and blue eyes, furiously hissing at him. "So, you are the maniac that killed my only son?" He stared at me, bewildered that I could speak, but I didn't bother to hear his answer. He was so close.
I stomped my foot and felt myself shoot upwards. Now my head was scrapping against the roof of the cave. Beowulf looked like a guinea pig now, small, helpless, and incredibly annoying. I seized him into a crushing hold and watched him wriggle and struggle in my massive hand.
For the first time ever in my long life, I felt regret deep in my gut. Utter fear showed in Beowulf's eyes. No matter how much effort he put into his struggling, he couldn't get free. I could not stand to watch. Here was the murderer and I didn't want to kill him. Why? What was wrong with me?
I began to loosen my grip and before I knew it, the little man was slashing swords at me. It bent oddly in half at contact. It did not pierce the skin but it did hurt. I let out a piercing cry of pain and squeezed Beowulf tighter. All Thought of mercy was gone.
Beowulf screamed and screamed, cursing. I did not care what he said. I just wanted him to go so I could never be bothered again. As I lowered to sit on my knees- at this point, my head was at level with a sword that used to belong to my late husband- and attempted to set him down peacefully. Beowulf cursed again and grabbed the sword. I was shocked. He really did want to kill me.
I closed my eyes as he swung the sword straight at me. I felt a sharp pain in my neck and...
Hidden In My Soul
By Elizabeth Wharton (8th)
It took me a moment to realize that there were no whispers or singing of the songbirds, actually, come to think of it, no sound was to be heard. It was dead. Nothing moved. Nothing seemed to be alive. I gazed at the tall Sitka spruces around me, watching how the little needles scratched against each other when the cool fall wind blew. The leaves from the deciduous trees rustled against the hard bark and floated around me. My throat constricted, drowning any sound from me.
I jumped silently to my feet and looked at the water, searching for some clue to what was going on, why the usually musical forest was now dead silent. The surface was calm and clear, enabling me to see the creek bottom very clearly as if it were merely a photograph. I had that very odd, uncomfortable feeling of being observed. I stiffened as a harsh gale curled onto me, blasting my hair in all directions. Leaves and pinecones rained around me, some pelting my head or steering clear. The tree branches bent in ways that I never expected they could. The creek's water saturated everything within reach. I yelped, retreating to ben down on the ground and clasped my hands to the back of my head. The *im* to run drained from me. My feet seemed as heavy as rocks and my arms as useless as twigs.
"Great," I muttered under my breath. "Nature is against me."
"It may seem so, Princess." A malicious male voice crooned from above.
I felt like my courage had died. My body was working against me. I wanted to move, I so dearly wanted to run, or at least to scream. But I couldn't. It took every bit of strength to look up and glare at the speaker that somehow was responsible for the forest's silence.
He was slightly taller than I was with a muscular and lanky build. His face was obscured by the shadows that the afternoon sun was casting. He was dressed in jet-black, as though he didn't want to be seen. I wished he wouldn't hid so I could see who he was but all I could do was shake in rage under his gruesome gaze.
"Do not call me princess." I snapped heavily, attempting to get my bravery to revive.
He laughed. His laugh seemed so dark like he, himself, was the devil from Hell; like he was born from Hitler's ashes. As though he were living in the shadows and slaughtering innocent girls for a living. That dark. I shivered, even though I wasn't cold anymore.
"What? You don't like Princess? What about 'Your Highness' or 'Your Worship'?" the boy inquired crookedly. I gritted my teeth and shot back.
"Who are you?"
"Ah, the classic question. 'Who are you? Why are you doing this?' or 'What do you want from me?' I have heard them all. I'm afraid I can't answer, Your Worship." He glanced over his shoulder and raised a palm. A scarf of water from the creek levitated to his outstretched hand and changed shape into a sphere. He gazed at it for a moment then slowly inclined his head to look at me, clearly grinning. "So, how is it that a little girl like you ends up in a stink-hole like this?"
That cold, gruesome laugh echoed again. His eyes narrowed as I rose my fists clumsily up, with the rest of my body swaying alarmingly back and forth. "I wouldn't fight if I were you. You know don't know what you're dealing with."
"I wish," I moped tensely, trying to stall him to figure out how I could easily get away. In the distance, I heard Luna's voice calling my name, clearly she was worried and in shambles. I glanced over my shoulder at her voice and rapidly warned: "My family is looking for me and they'll find you if you kill me." I stepped back to turn but in a second, he was on top of me, snarling.
"They won't find anyone." His strong hands squeezed my wrists ruthlessly, sending pounding pain up my arms. I let out a short shriek of anguish and struggled, trying to ignore the drainage of feeling from my wrists that he was crushing brutally. I could feel the bones slowly, agonizingly, shift from place, snap, and rupture under his hold. I screamed again, louder and longer this time but he silenced me with a great heave over his shoulder. I kicked my legs wildly, yelling helplessly and shaking violently on his right shoulder as he trudged away from the creek and even deeper into the woods.
Back
By Anonymous
I am standing here all alone, contemplating my escape and suddenly, you are there with a black mask covering every worn out feature of your dark, lonely face. I realize why you are here, you hold out your arms, reaching for my cold and frightened body, convincing me that you are not here to hurt me.
You pull me close and run your fingers through my already tousled hair, as if to comfort me. I'm scared and the stillness of your body tells me that you can sense my fear. You whisper an apology, almost undetectable beneath my sharp uneven breaths. You want me back. Of course. It seems like we always end up in this dark shadow of your many apologies and I always take another chance. I am always stupid enough to forgive you.
I remember the words you told me so many goodbyes ago. "If we can make it through the impossible, then we know we really love each other." I laugh as I think of how I had responded to those words. "O.K. Dr. Phil," I had said.
I remember how it once had been love, almost too good to be true, when the thought of no "us" was something that neither of us dared to speak of. Now we have been through this so many times that it seems like a way of life to us. Like if we do not continue this cycle we will die. It's like the bird and the worm.
I think this over and over in my mind; it was almost pointless to ask myself if you were what I wanted. I knew you were exactly what I wanted. I am afraid to lose you again. I can feel everyhting in my heart pulling me back to that place that I felt so safe, back to you, the very core of my existance.
I look into your eyes, now weary with suspense. Behind that sea of blue I love so much, I see sincerity and it pushes me to tell myself that i DO need you.
I think back at all those nights I sat alone, longing for your presence. Those nights I sat longing for the warmth of your hands to pull me close to you, to hear the steady beat under your chest.
You look at me, waiting for some sort of response. I take a deep breath. "You said goodbye forever," I say in a whisper that I'm sure you can't hear.
The look on your face is full of confusion and the tension between us is too strong. I close my eyes and take a long breath despite the staggering beats of my heart. "I can't do this," I think to myself. I know that if I let you go my own existance will seem pointless to me.
Where do I go from here? My eyes flicker back to your face and I hold the gaze for a few brief seconds. I look away again. I am so frustrated with myself. How could I still want this? How could I still be willing to go through the pain that I am so sure I will have to endure?
This is all so complicated. You slowly release your hands from my waist and turn on your heel to walk away.
"Wait," I whisper, breaking the silence.
You turn back once again and look at me.
"I love you," I say.
Your eyes widen and tell me that you were not expecting the response. You open your mouth and repeat my words in a more firm voice, accepting me back into your open arms.
I run forward and throw myself at you, burying my face in your shoulder to hide my tears.
You start apologizing over and over again.
"I'm sorry. I can't leave you again. I'm so sorry. I was stupid. I need you. I love you."
You just kept repeating these words. These insignificant sentences that have brought me back so many times. These words that I have heard so many times.
I fell for it this time too.
By Hannah Wilson (10th Grade)
I sat on a chair with my head spinning in every which way and stomach churning. My eyes were held shut because I knew if I decided to open them I would puke even though my stomach was clearly empty. People held onto me, afraid that if they let go I would tip over. They began to remove body jewelry, shoes and other unnecessary clothing. A woman’s soft voice echoed in my head, “Hannah, Hannah. Can you tell me where you are?” she asked. More voices filled my head and they kept asking their questions as if they were the most important ones. “Screw off!” was going to be my reply if my mouth would’ve move.
Truly and honestly I couldn’t remember anything. Everything was a blur beginning when the night was starting. My ‘best friend’ had decided I was a liar. That much I could remember. I had been in that situation more than once. It was the story of my life: friends back stabbing me because they are afraid of me. I’m not scary and you think an honest friend would know that.
I remember feeling frightened and wanting to go to sleep and wake up only when everything was over. But I knew that wouldn’t be possible since her and another one of my friends were on their way to my house. I curled up in my bed, clenching onto a bloody knife. My wrist had been slit in order to get all my anger out. “Damn it. Why?” I sobbed, jumping outta bed. I reached over for a water bottle and my retainer case that held my trippy pills. I didn’t know what they were, but I knew they made me trippy if I took just two. I counted out eight and placed them in my mouth, hoping maybe I would pass out and nobody would be able to wake me up from my deep slumber. “Hannah?” my mom whispered, turning on my bed light. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m going to bed.”
“Okay. Tomorrow is a new day and we all can start over.” She blew me a kiss then shut my door. She was right. Tomorrow was a brand new day and I could pretend nothing happened. The only sign of today that would be left are the texts and the bleeding cuts that will turn into scars soon.
“GO SHAKE THAT LAFFY-TAFFY! THAT LAFFY-TAFFY! AH! CANDY GIRL!” my cell phone screamed. I ran over to answer it, secretly hoping it was James, but it read Danyel. I felt the tears began to well in my eyes and my heart sank. “Why the hell won’t you leave me alone?” I threw my unanswered phone across the room and into the sofa. The ringing ended. I thought her harassing me had ended forty minutes ago, but no. “GO SHAKE THAT LAFFY-TAFFY! THAT LAFFY-TAFFY! AH! CANDY GIRL!” this time the screen read Shaylee. I held the ignore button down till I felt satisfied she wouldn’t call back. “GO SHAKE THAT LAFFY-TAFFY! THAT LAFFY-TAFFY! AH! CANDY GIRL!” Delaney (Shaylee’s younger sister) name came to the screen. I pressed ignore, but it only took seconds till they decided to call again, but this time on my younger sister’s phone. I watched the lights blink on and off rapidly, this could’ve been an emergency. I pressed answer and Danyel’s voice came on, “Hannah! T-“ I pressed end and went to hide underneath my covers. I was safe from monsters there as a child, I would be safe from them there now. Stop calling me or I swear to god I’ll hurt myself. I text to my sister’s phone. Don’t say that! I don’t take that lightly! You’ve tried it before! Her concern seemed fake to me. Why would anyone care if I died? Then have everyone stop calling me damn it! I hoped my point came across, but the fake concern only grew as she repeatedly text me not to do it or say things like that. I didn’t reply.
The bedroom door flew open, making my walls rattle and posters shutter, “Hannah! Come up stairs now!” my mother yelled franticly. “Okay, I have her now.” She said into her blackberry.
I rolled, literally, out of bed and flopped onto the floor. Eight pills, I thought to myself, I’m not going to be able to hide it. My heart beat fast, so fast my ears began to boom. “Wh-hat?” I asked sitting down on the brown leather couch upstairs. My mom sat beside me and I laid my dizzy head onto her lap. She brushed my dark hair out of my eyes and whispered it would be okay and that everyone was coming over. I started to cry again. My pills weren’t relaxing me at all. I started to shake. My body couldn’t hold still and my breathing grew heavy. It felt like I was having a horrible heart attack that wouldn’t come to an end.
The door bell rang and my mom stood up, leaving me shaking out of control on the couch. Miley and her dad Devin took off their shoes and walked over to me, moments later Danyel and Shaylee ran into the house. I rested on the floor and Miley above me. She held me between her legs so I could not fall over. Her long fingers ran through my knotted hair until it was smooth. “We want to talk to Hannah alone!” Shaylee yelled to my mom.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do that.” She replied calmly, “She is my daughter and I need to protect her…”
“We aren’t going to hurt her!” Danyel, with swollen eyes, fought.
“Peace and love, you guys. Stop yelling.” I chuckled, “Whatever you say in front of me you can say in front of my peoples.”
Miley laughed and patted my head.
“What is she on?” Shaylee snapped, flailing her arms in the air. “You are drugging her!”
“Prozac. The doctor put her on it f-“
“-You guys are drugging her! She is perfectly fine! Hannah! You don’t need this…” she cried.
“She’s bipolar, Shaylee! Sh-“
“-No! She is perfectly fine!”
“Damn it! Stop yelling!”
“Then stop drugging her! Let us talk to her alone!” Shaylee got in my mom’s face. Miley held me closer to her, as if she was trying to protect me from everything going on, and, honestly, I would let her. I needed it.
“Miley.” I laughed quietly, too quiet for anyone to hear.
“She’s like her father! She’s not right in the head!”
“I can’t do this.” Danyel sobbed and ran out of the house, Shaylee, of course, was right behind her.
I closed my eyes for a minute, ignoring the front door slamming open then closed then open again, ignoring the voices in and outside of my head and trying to focus on my rapid beating heart. “Go! Sit! Now!” my mother screamed in her devil voice. Our dog whimpered and I cowered closer to Miley.
“It’s okay.” Miley whispered. Her voice was shaky, not comforting at all.
“I’ll talk to them.” I gurgled. “In the kitchen…Okay? Mama, I’m okay.”
“You sure, huney?”
“Y-Yeah.” I got to my feet, barely, and stumbled into the kitchen, with Miley holding onto my hips. “I- Danyel. I need a hug.” I fell into her arms and whispered what I had done earlier that night….
The rest of that long night was meshed into one big blur full of crying, questions, ivies, doctors and ambulances.
So now I occupy a hexagon shaped room with a stale mattress, desk, locked cabinet and a ½ a person bathroom. The ceilings seem to go up forever and never end while the cramped walls are a nasty cream.
I lay patiently on my mattress in a pair of sky blue socks that didn’t belong to me, blue sweat pants and a black TOKIO HOTEL t-shirt. I don’t remember changing. “Hannah?” the locked door clicked open and a short red headed nurse smiled at me, “Time to take a shower okay? Then come out here and talk to me when you are done.”
“O-Okay.” I got off my bed, my knees wiggled until they finally gave out and I was on the floor. “Damn.” I mumbled, planting my palms on the red carpet and was able to crawl over to the ½ person bathroom.
Removing my clothing was easy. The real challenge was staying standing while showering. “One-two Freddie’s coming for you.” I sang, “Three-four better lock the door. Five-six grab your crucifix.” I washed the last bit of stink out of my hair and off my body with the ice like water and got out. No shampoo, no soap, no towel. I got dressed dripping wet and would have to let my hair air dry curly.
“Hannah?” a dirty blonde nurse said. She sat in an open area and behind a big desk with several other nurses. Doors, like mine, were all over the place and there were three hallways to choose from, which had more doors to choose from.
“May I pass?” a short tan girl with dreadlocks and dressed in pajamas asked the nurse. She nodded. The girl walked pass two door frames before she turned.
“May I pass?” I asked.
“Yes. Go where Brie went and you’ll have dinner, okay?” she talked to me like I was a child. Jerk was the only word I had for this woman.
I walked where she directed me, into what was a small white tile and wall room with two big tables pushed together. Five other kids sat there. They all looked normal. One of the boys was Mexican and really young looking, he seemed like a happy kid. The other boy was dressed in a white t-shirt and basketball shorts, making him look like an athlete. He was cute. Three girls, one which was the Brie, looked sorta normal too. One was a short haired black girl. She had a big smile plastered on her face from the moment I came in. The other was a gorgeous brunette with perfect skin and the biggest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. Brie seemed to be the only troubled looking one, besides me and my emo appearance.
“Hi.” The black girl said. You could tell she was gay right off the bat. “It’s about time you woke up.”
“What time is it?” I asked, taking my seat across from the gorgeous brunette.
“A little after five thirty.” Brie answered. “You’ve been asleep for almost two days.”
“Oh.” I had gotten what I wanted. To go to sleep and wake up when everything was over. It’s over.
“Hannah.” The red headed nurse said, “Here is some food. You must be starving.” She handed me a Styrofoam box that had a ham and cheddar sandwich in it.
“Not really.”
“Well try to eat.”
“I’m Tascha.” The black girl introduced. “That’s Brady,” she pointed to the athlete, “That’s Macey and that’s Salvatore and Brie.”
“Hi.”
“You’ve been sleeping along time.” Macey said before she took a sip from a Styrofoam cup. Salvatore nodded in agreement.
I waited for Brady to say something, but he continued to eat his salad without taking time to breathe between chews.
“So Jessica was saying how she was going to wait for me when I get out of here…” Tascha said, continuing the conversation that was being carried before I interrupted. “I can’t wait to see her.” She shoved the last bit of her BLT in her mouth then started cleaning up. Everyone rolled their eyes as in a ‘silly Tascha’ way. “She’s giving me a second chance after cheating on her, so this is a big deal. You all don’t get it.”
“No, we do.” The red headed nurse said, “And nobody wants to hear it, hun.”
“Goodness. Don’t have to be so rude.” She sat down next to me and just smiled.
“What?” I asked, a bit creeped out.“Something on my face?”
“So you O.D.ed? Do you remember anything?”
“I did?” I looked to the faithful red head, her name tag read Rachel, “Did i?” she nodded and gently smiled.
“So you don’t? What were you thinking before you t-“
“Tascha!” Brie snapped, she held her knees close to her chest. “I like Tokio Hotel too.”
“What?” I asked, looking around. “Oh.” She was talking about my shirt.
“I like them too.” Macey added. She was so pretty. I wondered if Brady liked her. “I haven’t gotten a chance to listen to their CD yet.
“Then quit running away.” Tasch jumped back into the conversation. I starred, confused. “She’s a runaway.”
“I’ll after this.” She paused, “Who would’ve guessed it would be so uncomfortable to sleep in a shed, big enough for a dog, for almost two months.”
It got silent and awkward. Brady stood up to throw away the container his salad was in then went to grab a sanitization wipe to clean up his spot. “Not me.” He finally said, “Anyone up for cards after group?” he slapped the pocket over his chest where a deck of cards (that looked like a pack of cigarettes) were being held.
“I’ll play B.S.” I said.
“Nah, I’m sick of that game.” He walked through the back door of the room, everyone else fallowed. I took the hint and moved along as well, after cleaning up my stuff, of course.
It was a large room with colorful couches all along the walls, a television against a spot where the couches ended and a bunch of shelves with movies were in the room. The dirty blond nurse from the desk was sitting in a chair in the middle of the room. “Okay. Want to read me your goals everyone?” it was more of a command than a question.
I took a seat next to Brie, but still fair enough away because I knew we were not friends. I crossed my legs and held my head up high, trying to keep my frightened tears in. I’m in this strange place and nobody will give an explanation to me. “Hannah?” the nurse, named Ashley, asked. “Do you know why you are here?”
“N-No…” I stuttered. I did, though. I was here because I wanted to die. I wanted to die like every other teenager in this room, except maybe Tascha. She seemed too happy to be here…wherever this place is. “I don’t.”
“You are here because of suicidal ideation after attempting to overdose by taking pills given to you by a boy at your school.”
“My old school.” I muttered under my breath. Nobody heard me.
“Your treatment plan is no suicidal ideation or behavior for seventy-two hours. You must participate in all nursing assessments, take medication prescribed by physician, identify five coping skills and five triggers to avoid dangerous behavior, and express how you feel in daily TR Groups to practice expressing.” When the nurse finished talking I felt dizzy. She used so many words I had no clue what they meant. How did she expect me to get out of this place if I didn’t understand what she was saying.
“Where are my shoes?” I asked, staring out the window. I longed to walk outside on the fresh snow.
“You can’t have them right now. Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes. I have to not be suicidal.” I answered.
Grendal Story
Ben Johnson, 8th grade
I am the most feared creature of the human race. I live in a swamp far away from my human food source and walk to the village every so often. Some people say the mere sight of me can kill you; others say that my smell can rot your skin away. To be honest I just think that my claws can kill you. Some nights I can hear those partying and I have an urge to kill someone. One night I had just about had enough of their singing and partying. I ran to their village and burst open the doors. I almost ate every last one, but I couldn't because I was too full. I ran home and slept for the next week.
I was having a good day playing Marco Polo with my mother at our swamp and we decided to have lunch. She sent me to retrieve some fresh Geet from the village. On the way I spotted a herd of sheep and decided to have an appetizer. I ripped their heads off and ate their guts. "mmmm... yum," I said. I started walking again, time passed and it felt as if I was going nowhere. It started to get dark and I though, "Should I go home? No, but what about mother?" I continued on hoping that my mother wouldn't worry about me. By the time that I got to the village the moon was at its highest peak and the coyotes were howling. I crawled over to the palace and ate the guards outside of the door. I tapped on the doors and they flew open and I ate half of the Geets and stuck the other half on a stick for my mother. There is only one Geet that I can never find; his name is Hrothgar, King of all Geets.
I had to run home so that my mother would not worry about me. She was pleased with what I had brought her. She feasted for the rest of the night. We slept for two days and were awoken by the sound of cheering and some guy bragging. I wanted to see what was going on so I ran to the hills by the shoreline and saw a Viking ship and a muscular man and his crew. I heard the man that they called Beowulf say that he was going to try to kill me, "What a loon," I thought as I scratched my butt.
I ran home to tell my mother what I had found out and what I was going to do about it. I was going to the palace and wipe them off the face of the earth. I waited until about an hour 'til sundown and ran to the palace. I blew open the doors and roared my beastly roar and ate a Viking. I opened my eyes to see a bunch of drunken Vikings, but only one was naked. I focused my vision on him to see that it was Beowulf. I walked over to him and reached down to grab him and eat him, but like a ninja he snatched my wrist and thrust me to the ground. He has me in a half nelson, now a full nelson, ohh now he's beating me with Bobby Nelson. I couldn't bear it any longer, I stood up and tried to shake him off me, but suddenly I couldn't move my elbow or even twiddle my fingers. I looked to my side... my arm, ripped out of its socket, was lying on the ground. I ran home and fell into my mother's arms as my soul faded away.
A Monstrous Mother's Lament
Elizabeth Wharton (8th)
"Grendal! Grendal! Come home! Where are you?"
The storm raged on as I cried this, slipping out of the sea. I was soaked from head to toe with salty water that dripped into my crimson eyes. My hands trembled with worry as I climed onto the shore. Rain stung my face, as if a swarm of bees was attacking me. I squinted my eyes, trying to see where I was going. To see if my baby boy was out there, waiting for the right moment to come home.
Where is he? I thought, where had he gone? I didn't know. I could not even imagine where he would go.
"Grendal!" I called. "Grendal, where are you?" My chalk face was dripping horribly of water. I shook my head, trying to get it off. My attempts were useless so I stood in the rain, eyes darting to catch a glimpse of him. But my desperate cries were unheard, for the wind howled even louder. "Please Grendal! Come home!" I tried again, screaming it at the top of my lungs.
No answer...
I stepped out of the safety of the sea where I had been dancing back and forth, unsure where to go, and rushed back into the trees. I climbed up one tree and jumped on another, leaping back and forth around the woods. I reached for another branch to climb even higher, pausing every minute or so to call out for my son once more. "Grendal!"
For the first time, I thought I heard his little whimper. I stopped where I was, to listen, but nothing made a sound. All I could hear was the wind's deafening roar and thunder claps from not too far away.
"Mother..."
I jumped at the voice, nearly slipping off an oak's branch. The branches were becoming slick and slippery but I didn't care. It was definitely my boy's voice! He was here somewhere! But where? Where? I jumped off the tree and landed gracefully, splashing a little because I landed in a puddle. I raced into a clearing, judging by the direction the voice came from, to find the familiar outline of my baby sinking into a freshwater pond. I rushed to his side, diving into the pond's unwelcoming, pure waters, and seized Grendal in a motherly embrace. I shrieked.
His arm... It... It was gone. It took me a while to register it into my breain, to tell myself that my son's arm was completely gone. I couldn't speak. Every sound I could muster was gone.
How? How did this happen? Who would be so heartless to do this to him? A young man who just desired a few nights of sweet, well-needed rest? Who? Again, I did not know.
The smell of blood overwhelmed me. Precious, bubbling blood oozed out of the gaping hole where his arm should have been. It slipped silently off him and into the depths, causing the water to bubble also. I sniffled as the water flashed a violent neon green then quickly changed to a deep shade of scarlet.
"G-G-G-G-Grend-d-dal..." I stammered. "Wh-Who d-d-d-did this t-to y-you?"
Grendal's dim eyes traced my face weakly. His lips moved slowly as he spoke a barely audible whisper. "Beowulf...Of the Geets." His face was taut of pain, speckled with dots of my tears and his own blood. He rasped. "Mother, I am so sorry..."
"Shhhh, it's okay. There's nothing to be sorry about." I assured him. My attempts to keep my voice normal were wasted. It was unusually high, and I knew he knew I was upset. "I'll get you home. It will be alright."
"No, don't," Grendal rasped feebly. "Mother, I...I..." He gave a rattling breath and fell limp. I stared at him, my heart stopping. I shook him, crying out.
"Grendal... Come on, hon', wake up. Don't play tricks on me. Please." He didn't budge, his eyes still staring lifelessly at me. The truth crashed down on me but I could not believe it. It couldn't be true...Not him. "You're fine. You're fine. You're alright. You got to be alright!" I was on the verge of hysterics. "Grendal! WAKE UP! PLEASE!"
Grendal stayed where he was; a broken, limp body of a demon. The agony had never been so intense before. My son was gone. Never ever, would he smile or laugh. Never would he come home to visit me where we would talk for hours about his dreams for the eternal life he would have, should have. He would never get the chance to experience the great joys of a lifetime. My son was gone. Doomed to death.
Then it came to me.
I knew what I had to do. I was going to find this "Beowulf of the Geets" and make him hurt. The maniac that maimed my son was going to pay. The same pain that my baby went through, that murderer was going to feel it. He will. He will.
Beowulf, I will find you.
* * * * *
The savages of humanity, I knew, would be celebrating their false victory. They would be soaked with rum, drunk with excitement during the party. Most likely, after a dozen drinks, the men would pass out and fall into a deep sleep that even the loudest roar couldn't disturb them.
I knew what I had to do. I had to kill someone important to the pathetic scoundrel that called himself "King" of this land that was rightfully mine. The King would become hysterical, calling for Beowulf for his rescue. This would lure him out of the safety of his friends. He had to be alone.
I stopped walking, with the rain still pelting my face. I glared hatefully at the castle that loomed out of the darkness. Herot was in my grasp. I would have no mercy once I have Beowulf. Once I got rid of him, I would take over Herot and make the citizens live in hiding once again, quiet as if they never existed. It would be what Grendal wanted.
Slipping into the shadows, I continued to trudge towards the castle. I made it to the door in quick time and pushed open the door iwht my toe. I silently stepped inside and was relieved to see that the guards were not out. I snuck in even farther to walk into the hallway to find a bunch of sleeping men. I smirked at the snores that filled the air. Men are so stupid, I thought with a mental laugh. I sidestepped over the bodies and flailing limbs. I looked up and froze in my tracks. There, on the wall, was Grendal's precious arm.
Fiery rage engulfed me. "Those savages!" I stormed quietly, hurriedly walking closer to snatch my son's arm. "Treating a corpse as a trophy? Who do they think they are?" I groaned loudly, causing the sound to reverberate throughout the halls. None of the men awoke so I returned to my task. Tucking Grendal's arm under mine, I searched for a victim.
I glanced down at the man closest to my left. I had seen him on many occasions accompanying the King on horseback, lurking on the shores that were right above my lair. He laughed and taunted us, as in demons, calling angels. To a demon, angels were the worst insult you could get. A gruesome, but wonderful thought crossed my mind. A sharp fanged smile graced my ruby lips. I could get rid of him too. Two birds killed by one stone. Simple.
I leaned over him and quickly slit his throat, slightly cringing at the sight of crimson pouring out of his skin. I hate to wake up and see that! I thought, Well, this is for my little boy! With one last glance, I walked quickly around the sleeping men and raced out into the night, preparing myself for the murder of the maniac that slaughtered my son.
- * * * *
Back at home, I tenderly placed Grendal's arm on top of the fireplace so I could gaze at it. As soon as I was finished with Beowulf, I was planning to rejoin his arm with his body and bury him in the cave. I hope it was fine with him to wait.I took a long moment to gaze at his arm, remembering that I had held that arm so many times. Ever since he was a baby! I added in thought. I could not take it much longer. What was I suppose to do? Cry? The thought of crying did sound like a good idea. Well, not a good idea, but I felt like it would be good to let all of the sickening emotions out. Would it? I needed closure.
My lips quivered and I let out a mournful cry. Shaking my head, I paced back and forth around the room and cried to my heart's content. He is gone! Gone! Those words screamed at me, shattering every microscopic bit of hope I had to dust. I was all alone now.
I froze.
Something was stirring out of the water from behind me. I could hear the familiar ripple of the water. I had memorized the sound of Grendal's ripple, which was loud and ended with a pluoop. However, this was much smaller and had a small pop. My hear pounding, I whirled around to face...
Beowulf...
He was rather a large man with pulsing biceps that oozed seawater. He wore armor and a sword hung at his waist. I glared at his dark hair and blue eyes, furiously hissing at him. "So, you are the maniac that killed my only son?" He stared at me, bewildered that I could speak, but I didn't bother to hear his answer. He was so close.
I stomped my foot and felt myself shoot upwards. Now my head was scrapping against the roof of the cave. Beowulf looked like a guinea pig now, small, helpless, and incredibly annoying. I seized him into a crushing hold and watched him wriggle and struggle in my massive hand.
For the first time ever in my long life, I felt regret deep in my gut. Utter fear showed in Beowulf's eyes. No matter how much effort he put into his struggling, he couldn't get free. I could not stand to watch. Here was the murderer and I didn't want to kill him. Why? What was wrong with me?
I began to loosen my grip and before I knew it, the little man was slashing swords at me. It bent oddly in half at contact. It did not pierce the skin but it did hurt. I let out a piercing cry of pain and squeezed Beowulf tighter. All Thought of mercy was gone.
Beowulf screamed and screamed, cursing. I did not care what he said. I just wanted him to go so I could never be bothered again. As I lowered to sit on my knees- at this point, my head was at level with a sword that used to belong to my late husband- and attempted to set him down peacefully. Beowulf cursed again and grabbed the sword. I was shocked. He really did want to kill me.
I closed my eyes as he swung the sword straight at me. I felt a sharp pain in my neck and...
Hidden In My Soul
By Elizabeth Wharton (8th)
It took me a moment to realize that there were no whispers or singing of the songbirds, actually, come to think of it, no sound was to be heard. It was dead. Nothing moved. Nothing seemed to be alive. I gazed at the tall Sitka spruces around me, watching how the little needles scratched against each other when the cool fall wind blew. The leaves from the deciduous trees rustled against the hard bark and floated around me. My throat constricted, drowning any sound from me.
I jumped silently to my feet and looked at the water, searching for some clue to what was going on, why the usually musical forest was now dead silent. The surface was calm and clear, enabling me to see the creek bottom very clearly as if it were merely a photograph. I had that very odd, uncomfortable feeling of being observed. I stiffened as a harsh gale curled onto me, blasting my hair in all directions. Leaves and pinecones rained around me, some pelting my head or steering clear. The tree branches bent in ways that I never expected they could. The creek's water saturated everything within reach. I yelped, retreating to ben down on the ground and clasped my hands to the back of my head. The *im* to run drained from me. My feet seemed as heavy as rocks and my arms as useless as twigs.
"Great," I muttered under my breath. "Nature is against me."
"It may seem so, Princess." A malicious male voice crooned from above.
I felt like my courage had died. My body was working against me. I wanted to move, I so dearly wanted to run, or at least to scream. But I couldn't. It took every bit of strength to look up and glare at the speaker that somehow was responsible for the forest's silence.
He was slightly taller than I was with a muscular and lanky build. His face was obscured by the shadows that the afternoon sun was casting. He was dressed in jet-black, as though he didn't want to be seen. I wished he wouldn't hid so I could see who he was but all I could do was shake in rage under his gruesome gaze.
"Do not call me princess." I snapped heavily, attempting to get my bravery to revive.
He laughed. His laugh seemed so dark like he, himself, was the devil from Hell; like he was born from Hitler's ashes. As though he were living in the shadows and slaughtering innocent girls for a living. That dark. I shivered, even though I wasn't cold anymore.
"What? You don't like Princess? What about 'Your Highness' or 'Your Worship'?" the boy inquired crookedly. I gritted my teeth and shot back.
"Who are you?"
"Ah, the classic question. 'Who are you? Why are you doing this?' or 'What do you want from me?' I have heard them all. I'm afraid I can't answer, Your Worship." He glanced over his shoulder and raised a palm. A scarf of water from the creek levitated to his outstretched hand and changed shape into a sphere. He gazed at it for a moment then slowly inclined his head to look at me, clearly grinning. "So, how is it that a little girl like you ends up in a stink-hole like this?"
That cold, gruesome laugh echoed again. His eyes narrowed as I rose my fists clumsily up, with the rest of my body swaying alarmingly back and forth. "I wouldn't fight if I were you. You know don't know what you're dealing with."
"I wish," I moped tensely, trying to stall him to figure out how I could easily get away. In the distance, I heard Luna's voice calling my name, clearly she was worried and in shambles. I glanced over my shoulder at her voice and rapidly warned: "My family is looking for me and they'll find you if you kill me." I stepped back to turn but in a second, he was on top of me, snarling.
"They won't find anyone." His strong hands squeezed my wrists ruthlessly, sending pounding pain up my arms. I let out a short shriek of anguish and struggled, trying to ignore the drainage of feeling from my wrists that he was crushing brutally. I could feel the bones slowly, agonizingly, shift from place, snap, and rupture under his hold. I screamed again, louder and longer this time but he silenced me with a great heave over his shoulder. I kicked my legs wildly, yelling helplessly and shaking violently on his right shoulder as he trudged away from the creek and even deeper into the woods.
Back
By Anonymous
I am standing here all alone, contemplating my escape and suddenly, you are there with a black mask covering every worn out feature of your dark, lonely face. I realize why you are here, you hold out your arms, reaching for my cold and frightened body, convincing me that you are not here to hurt me.
You pull me close and run your fingers through my already tousled hair, as if to comfort me. I'm scared and the stillness of your body tells me that you can sense my fear. You whisper an apology, almost undetectable beneath my sharp uneven breaths. You want me back. Of course. It seems like we always end up in this dark shadow of your many apologies and I always take another chance. I am always stupid enough to forgive you.
I remember the words you told me so many goodbyes ago. "If we can make it through the impossible, then we know we really love each other." I laugh as I think of how I had responded to those words. "O.K. Dr. Phil," I had said.
I remember how it once had been love, almost too good to be true, when the thought of no "us" was something that neither of us dared to speak of. Now we have been through this so many times that it seems like a way of life to us. Like if we do not continue this cycle we will die. It's like the bird and the worm.
I think this over and over in my mind; it was almost pointless to ask myself if you were what I wanted. I knew you were exactly what I wanted. I am afraid to lose you again. I can feel everyhting in my heart pulling me back to that place that I felt so safe, back to you, the very core of my existance.
I look into your eyes, now weary with suspense. Behind that sea of blue I love so much, I see sincerity and it pushes me to tell myself that i DO need you.
I think back at all those nights I sat alone, longing for your presence. Those nights I sat longing for the warmth of your hands to pull me close to you, to hear the steady beat under your chest.
You look at me, waiting for some sort of response. I take a deep breath. "You said goodbye forever," I say in a whisper that I'm sure you can't hear.
The look on your face is full of confusion and the tension between us is too strong. I close my eyes and take a long breath despite the staggering beats of my heart. "I can't do this," I think to myself. I know that if I let you go my own existance will seem pointless to me.
Where do I go from here? My eyes flicker back to your face and I hold the gaze for a few brief seconds. I look away again. I am so frustrated with myself. How could I still want this? How could I still be willing to go through the pain that I am so sure I will have to endure?
This is all so complicated. You slowly release your hands from my waist and turn on your heel to walk away.
"Wait," I whisper, breaking the silence.
You turn back once again and look at me.
"I love you," I say.
Your eyes widen and tell me that you were not expecting the response. You open your mouth and repeat my words in a more firm voice, accepting me back into your open arms.
I run forward and throw myself at you, burying my face in your shoulder to hide my tears.
You start apologizing over and over again.
"I'm sorry. I can't leave you again. I'm so sorry. I was stupid. I need you. I love you."
You just kept repeating these words. These insignificant sentences that have brought me back so many times. These words that I have heard so many times.
I fell for it this time too.