Loneliness

It is more than just a mental state. It is more than just a state in general. There is circumstantial loneliness, where all you feel is separation, a distinction between you and those around you. And then there is isolation, where the line is not drawn between you and other people; the line is drawn around you.

That is true loneliness. You may surround yourself with family and friends but there is a dullness inside that makes the smile on your face more like the sun's reflection on a pool of dark water. It is not a subtle wall that separates your ideals from theirs. It is simply a sleeping unhappiness. On occasion, the impulse to drive it into action becomes overwhelming and then there is a conscious feeding of the beast, simply to provoke some sense of a negative emotion, for the alternative is to be dead inside. At those times, it is like popping the loaded spring on a mousetrap. While you may have wished for the satisfying snap, the rapidity and the force behind it never fail to surprise.

And then the darkness becomes everything.

My Happy Place

There's a place that I've found. It's a happy place. It's mine but I'll share. I know how to share. In reality, to stand on par with a cloud is impossible. They are too big and too grand. Yet in my dream, I am on a plane with them. And it's amazing. They're far from me but if I were to walk over to them, they would still be right beside me. So it's me and the clouds, under a clear night sky. And below us is a city. It's beautiful. I can look down on it and see all the lives of the people below. I can see them running around and imagine how their days were. Make believe. And it's all just so great. And I'm alone, up there, with the wind and the clouds. And I can see it all, every last bit of my city. And I think I'm dead. But I can't tell if it's heaven or hell.

Blue World - 31

He pushed out his breath in white clouds that lasted as long as his dreams as he dug his gloved fingers into the shadowy ice. Despite its blackness in twilight, he could feel the cool breeze sweeping tendrils of snowy chill into every hole in his clothes. His eyes shone in the dark, gleaming as the moon rose behind him, turning the curve of the ice's peak into a glowing wave of silver. He gritted his teeth in excitement as he thrust himself slowly upward. As he neared the shining tip of the wave, the beat of his heart grew unbearable, pounding furiously, fueled by the adrenaline that filled his veins. He set a hand over the tip and hoisted himself up, catching a glimpse of the world in frosted blue before his gasp sent shockwaves of cold straight into his mind. Over the edge of the precipice lay an eternity.

The tips of snow-brushed mountains cast massive ebony shadows over a vast landscape of gurgling rivers and roaring oceans frozen in motion. The flash frost petrified the grass instantaneously, coating them with a misting of ice. Trees were suspended in all strange angles, grudgingly arching their bodies in the face of some terrific wind as the ice grew and coated their ancient figures.

He pulled out a specially modified camera and, standing straight on the ridge of the massive wave he had scaled, snapped a picture of the end of all life. As he looked back on the trail he had left, the only shadowy footsteps that blotted his blue world.

Keep the Faith - 30

She shuddered in her hospital bed, knowing that she wasn't imagining the soft knocking at the front entrance of the hospital, even though she was three floors up. She was terrified of her Death. She had seen a man die before. Fiery eruptions had split the earth and from the crevices that appeared, out sprung a limber young man with smile lines that wrinkled his eyes. His youthful face creased in a smile as he sprung forward and thrust his hand straight through the man's body. Ignoring the organs and blood that spewed from the shrieking mortal, he lightly lifted his hand above his head, easily bearing the man's weight with his arm still thrust through his midriff then the youth jumped straight back into the pit of hell, smiling cheerfully at her, merely a young girl at the time.
So as she heard the light footsteps ascending the stairwell, she could see the boy in her mind, smiling quietly to all he passed as he danced his way to her room. Every other step, she could hear a soft clink. As of metal on tile. The tile of the hallway. Tap, clink, tap, clink. She began to shiver uncontrollably, making the blankets rustle. Finally the steps stopped and she could see a tall silhouette parked outside her door. She threw her sheets over herself and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the pain that would undoubtedly follow. And sure enough, it did. A hand pierced straight through her chest into her heart, popping the fragile organ, then emerging straight from the middle of her shoulder blades. As the hand pulled itself out, she felt a warmth spread through her like a drop of hot chocolate, melting away from the point and she gasped, knowing it must be the blood. Flowing down her gown like a river. Then she felt a firm grasp on her hand pull her upward and she opened her eyes in terror to behold the most ancient man she had ever seen, his other hand tightly wound around a walking stick capped in silver.
His eyes were an ebony black, soulless, but as she followed his pull up out of her bed, she could feel the wings that had sprouted from her wound, downy feathers brushing lightly against reality like a curious child. She sighed and relaxed, following the hollow man through the roof into the impossibly bright sky.

We Can Try - 29

He looked into her clear blue eyes that reminded him of the sky every time he gazed upon her delicate face. The laughter wrinkles that creased the edges of her eyes were as endearing as her unkempt hair when he first met her in her art studio, paint dotting her hair tied in a bun. He had grabbed her for himself like he was snatching the greatest gift that life could possibly give him and married her within the year. When they moved into their first and final house, they noticed the doormat faced outward but they were too elated to fix it as he carried her into the house, always leaving it for "later".

The clouds reflected in her irises grew dark and heavy as they knew that death was knocking upon the door. Three times the slow, soft thud permeated the house. The great windows in her new studio splayed a strange pattern of light over the floorboards.

She gave him a quivering smile as she asked, "do you want to get it or should I?"

He stroked her cheek and kissed her on the forehead as he stood up. They held hands and approached the great oak double doors. In the fogged windows that framed the beautiful wood they could see a great shadow and the gleam off his sickle. Behind him, the blue sky mocked his presence even as it acknowledged him by covering itself humbly in clouds. They grasped each others' hands like lifelines and hesitated.

"Do you think we could... We could leave wi... With stre-"

"We can try," he cut her off, gently releasing her hand. He reached forward and thrust the doors open, embracing his old friend.

They were swept off their feet and the only thing left behind was a doormat facing the wrong direction. "Welcome home."

Sins - 28

I remember the night that hell was born for me. I heard the whistle of a bullet for the first time. It was always a whistle, but as it zipped past my ear into my wife's head, it sounded more like a shriek. And shortly after, hers mirrored its nightmarish sound. I remember yelling in horror as her blood spilled onto my neck and spurted onto my clothes. The thieving bastard bent low to my face and his yellowed teeth smelled exactly as I had imagined. The cavities that dotted his pearly not-so-whites looked like mines on a battlefield. I sealed my mouth and began to sob. He grabbed me by the hair and grinned malevolently. I knew then that the boss was done for me. He began dragging me toward the room where I had given up my sweet little daughter to the mad experiments of the devil-spawn. I blinked away my desperate tears as I felt my wife's body slump away from mine, lifeless. He pulled me toward the room and I looked up into the mirror. I couldn't look at her. All I saw was the yellow biohazard triangle stamped onto the pipeline feeding poisons into the room. He set me down and suited up, pulling a gun from its holster. He swung the door open and thrust me into the room, slamming it shut behind me with enough force to crack the frame. I looked up at my child's face as blood dripped from her cracked lips, thick with saliva. Her eyes were pitch black, hollow. Even the whites of her eyes had been burnt black by the toxins. She staggered toward me, her tattered clothes barely covering the huge gaping holes in her flesh where she had eaten herself. Her nose picked up the scent of blood on me and I saw her cock her head like a beast. Her eyes widened, her nostrils flared, and she dived at me. As her teeth sank into my neck, my vision darkened and I saw the monstrosity of the darkest realms of hell standing over her, hand tightly clasping her shoulder as blood flowed freely from his pure-white eyes.

Monument - 27

She stared up at its spiraling peak with gleaming eyes. The sheen of the brilliant sky reflected off her eyes and her sweet mouth curved into an innocent smile. She grasped her mother's hand as the tour guide opened the door and showed them into the monument. Inside, the floor was cast with marble and she saw other children with their mothers and fathers. Her smile flickered like an old tape and her mother kissed her tenderly on her forehead, an apology. She bounced into the magnificent lobby and her pigtails shook with the movement, swaying like soft curtains. The tour guide gathered them together and they stepped into the elevator as a group.

Slowly they rose to the peak of the tower in the glass cage. She could see the view for miles but all the beauty of nature was suppressed into roaring civilization. From her perch she could see all that was wrong with the world. In an alleyway, an innocent man lay gasping for breath as he watched his assailant break into a stumbling run, carrying his wallet away into the dark underground of Utopia. They reached the top and stepped onto the windy height, swaying as a group before the majestic carved angel that rested at its tip. As the guide began to explain its significance and how it came to rest just so, she grew bored and began once more to examine the streets below. At the base of the building, she saw a fight break out.

As the two men pummeled at each other, a crowd began to gather, obviously excited by the violence. They watched with eyes that glowed with a dark fervor, screaming vulgarities as the men pummeled at each other, driving fists home in each others frames. Her eyes began to blur as she watched the terrible scene. She clenched the railing so tightly that the edges of the nails driven into the metal began to dig into her young fists. Her jaw began to grind almost imperceptibly as a blinding headache crept into her mind. She edged slowly closer to the edge until her feet rested half on the building, watching in horror as she realized the men were brothers. She wiped the tears from her eyes and turned away to face the angel once more.

As her eyes swung around and met the angels', she lost her footing and slipped off the edge. Fear froze her body and the ice-cold fingers of death gripped at her insides, holding her scream inside her. Her small body landed right next to the growing circle of people watching the fight with a sickening crunch.

As blood began to blur her eyes once and for all, she saw the onlookers scream and their demonic faces turned to horror. The brothers themselves stopped fighting to stare in mortification at her mangled frame. Men and women clutched at each other, suddenly bound together in grief where earlier there was nothing but a fevered lust for the violence before them.