If you're a writer and you see this post, stop what you're doing.
WHENEVER YOU SEE THIS POST ON YOUR DASH, STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING AND WRITE ONE SENTENCE FOR YOUR CURRENT PROJECT.
Just one sentence. Stop blogging for one minute and write a single sentence. It could be dialogue, it could be a nice description of scenery, it could be a metaphor, I don’t care. The point is, do it. Then, when you finish, you can get back to blogging.
If this gets viral, you might just have your novel finished by next Tuesday.
I get into fights now and again over the following question. Which is harder to do, being a writer or being an illustrator? I always pick writing but then again I am one though my reasons are well founded. I would however like to know what others think of this question. Feel free to tell me, just be nice about it.
What the bloody hell is wrong with me? Get a grip, Sarah. Why can’t I just be like every other female bodied human being and accept that this is what happens to female bodies? It just... feels so wrong. So damn wrong. I don’t want this. I’ve never wanted this.
She got up, trying her best to quieten her heavy breathing. She looked at her reflection in the mirror but didn’t see herself looking back. She saw a body with all the woman bits that felt so wrong. That had always felt wrong. She held her breasts as close to her chest as she could, turning her fingers white. Turning sideways on to the mirror, she admired her newly flat chest.
Why do so many women want these? They are so big and unsightly. They sag and weigh down my chest. I can’t go running or exercise because of them. I wish I could just give them away. Find someone who wants them, man, woman, other. First come, first serve.
She opened the bathroom door to make sure no-one had woken up. Seeing that everyone was still soundly asleep, she crept downstairs. Rifling through drawers in the kitchen, she found what she needed. I hope no-one wakes up now, it would be really bloody difficult to explain what I need cling film in the bathroom for. Maybe I could pass it off as some kind of practical joke. OK, that’s the story I will go with.
Luckily, she didn’t need the story. She stepped in front of the mirror, hoping so strongly that the reflection would change, would have altered in some magical way to show her actual, “true” body with its athletic frame, amazing muscles and its penis. Oh God, did she wish that would happen. She would give anything for a male body. Even a disgusting, flabby one that has a stomach too large to see your feet or your genitalia. Just to know it was there, somewhere.
She unwrapped the cling film and started to wrap it around her chest. She knew it was dangerous and that it could cause complications. This is the only way. I could never hide a binder and how am I supposed to explain to people that I am a freak?
Tighter and tighter she wound it. She immediately felt faint and knew she should stop but she couldn’t. It had become a need. Something that she needed more than anything else. Just to be rid of them for a short while, it won’t be for long. I just want to pretend. Please God, just let me have these few minutes.
Tears streamed down her now slightly red face. She stopped winding and turned sideways again. Flat-chested. Why can’t I be like this all the time? No light headedness marring the moment, making the moment tainted. As her breathing got slightly too difficult for comfort, she realised that she should stop and start unravelling. Just a moment longer.
As she heard the clock downstairs chime 3am, she realised that it really was time and started to unravel herself from her self-made prison. Now unbound, she crept out of the bathroom and into her bed next to her loving boyfriend.
Oh, if only you knew. Would you still love me? Of course you wouldn’t. You would see me for the freak I am and leave. Please don’t, I beg you. Please. I have to tell you. I can’t keep doing this. When would it end? Would I have to lie to you forever? Say I do through gritted teeth knowing our entire foundation was based on the lie that I am a woman. I could never do that to you, I never want to hurt you.
“I really need to speak to you” she whispered softly.
“huh?” he groaned back, evidently waking from a very deep slumber.
“I have a really strange question for you and I need you to just answer it no matter how weird or sudden it may seem”
“Ok, you have piqued my interest” He replied after sitting up and turning on his bed side lamp. “I have a question first, what time is it?”
“3am, maybe a bit later” She replied.
“Ok, now I’m ready. Hit me”
She gently punched his arm and smiled at him. “Ok, so say something ridiculous like...” She gave a momentary pause to pretend she hadn’t already thought of the next part. “Maybe I was born a man or something.. Would you still love me? Would you still date me?”
“I would date you even if you were a naturist, porn star, psychic midget” He laughed and pulled her close. “Now is that all?”
“I’m serious, you arse”
“So was I”
“Really?” Her voice took a desperate tone.
“Of course, now what do you need to tell me”
“I think I’m a man. Well.. not literally. Like you know. I feel like a man. But..”
“You mean you are transgender?” He cut in, saving her from her fumbling.
“Yeah, that” She started to cry those deep, heavy sobs she was so used to making alone in the bathroom.
“Ok”
“Is that it?”
“Oh, so what’s your name now? Sarah is a chick’s name” He looked completely dead pan.
“That can’t seriously be it. Where’s all the argument? Where’s all the but you can’t be’s?” She blurted, not even really thinking.
“You should know me better than that. I love you regardless of your gender, whether you are male or female. Come here, you prat” He grabbed her and pulled her close again.
“I always kind of wanted to be called Isaac” She paused, letting him hold her close.
“So then Isaac, how’s about some loving from my new boyfriend?” He laughed.
I think the thing I will miss the most is singing. In fact it is the only thing I will miss. I mean that is why I am doing this because of the everything else. It’s strange that through all of this that is the one thing I will miss. Maybe strange is the wrong choice of word. I just don’t know any more. I’m tired and I don’t care anymore, I just want to get this out there before it consumes anymore than it already has.
The young man looks out of the cafe window at some children passing by hand in hand with their mother, each one of the little ones holding a brightly coloured lollipop of some kind. He runs his hands through his short shaggy brown hair and exhales.
She is not going to understand any of this. I just know it. He thought to himself as he stirred the spoon in his tea watching his reflection shatter in the mug.
“I just know she is not going to get it. This is going to be worse than the time I told her I did not want to have children.” He said to himself before taking a sip of his tea.
The cafe door swung open and in stepped a middle aged woman with long black hair and narrow nose. She looked around the room for a few moments before spotting the young man, smiled then approached her.
“Hay Sarah sweetie, how are you?” Said the woman, taking the seat opposite to the young man.
“Yeah, I’m ok.” He said his words falling flat on themselves.
“Really you don’t sound it?” Said the woman in an accusing tone of voice.
This is going to be worse than having my teeth ripped out without any novocaine. He thought to himself.
“Mum I need to tell you something so I don’t want you to say anything until I’m done.”
“Ok I’m listening.”
He took a deep long breath in and then out again before beginning.
“I’m... I’m transgender.
He might as well have said kittens lay lemons for all the sense it seemed to make to her.
“What do you mean?” She asked her eyes narrowing.
“I mean I am a man.”
“Sarah, you’re a woman not a man.”
“I am a man in a woman’s body and I know this must be difficult for you but I would really appreciate it if you could call me Isaac from now on.”
“Sarah, this is not funny.”
“I know it’s not funny. This is a decision I have not come to lightly. It is something that has always been there at the back of my mind nagging me that something is wrong and now that I have come to except it I hear it louder than ever, screaming in my ear.”
There was an uncomfortable moment of silence between son and mother. The only sounds that could be heard were the nearby hushed conversations of the other customers and if you listened closely Isaac’s mothers breathing which was getting increasingly louder.
“Do you have any idea how this makes me feel?” Her voice becoming angrier.
“How it makes you feel, are you kidding me? You are not the only one affected by this. I know it’s hard but it’s also been very hard for me too. I need you to not react angrily to this because this isn’t an attack on you.”
Isaac could see out of the corner of his eye an elderly gentlemen looking over with for a brief moment before turning back to his egg and chips.
“Kittens lay lemons?” Translation “But what about children?”
“What about them?”
“One day you will want children and that feeling will overtake anything you feel right now. You are young and stupid and don’t know what you want”
YOU FUCKING WHAT! Is what he thought there were in a public setting after all. “You don’t understand what I want more than I do I’m sorry to inform you and it isn’t your call to make since I have a basic human right to something called bodily autonomy. I have never wanted children I made that choice years ago something you still refuse to accept more to the point this has nothing to do with what I am telling you now. I am telling you, I am a man and from today I intend to live as one.”
“Well, I suggest you keep your body intact. You will change your mind one day and I will never forgive you if you change your body and I will not be your councillor when you come crying to me wanting children.”
“Would it seriously help you overcome this if I had some of my eggs frozen?”
“But then you would have to go through a surrogate and everyone knows that surrogates always end up trying to keep the baby and I’m not helping you with legal fees either. This whole thing is just ridiculous all of your partners have been men anyway so just do it naturally like everyone else.”
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME! He thought again though he struggled to keep it all in. “Mum, I don’t even know where to begin on how offensive that sentence was. What about people who are infertile and just can’t “do it naturally”? And that sexuality bit is total crap anyway because sexuality and gender are not, nor have they ever been, linked. You might as well say that gay people don’t exist.”
“I just don’t understand you.” She said folding her arms.
“Clearly.” On the outside but in his head it was more like, you have never understood me you stupid ingrate cow.
“Is that why you had your hair cut short like that?” She said gesturing towards his head.
“Well yes because as I have already said as of today I am living as a man.”
“What’s up with your chest? Your breasts are gone.” She said with wide eyes locked firmly on her son’s chest.
“It’s called a binder it helps to hold my breasts closer so they look more like peck muscles.”
A waiter walked over to the table. “Is there anything I can get for you, Miss?”
“Unless you can get me a normal daughter, PISS OFF!” Isaac’s mother snapped at him. He looked both hurt and angry but rather than say another word and risk his job he walked away.
“You look silly. You’re a woman with no breasts.”
“You are still not getting the whole trans thing are you?”
“You are only trans because you were raised in a society where being cis and straight is now considered to be vanilla. It’s just a style thing you will outgrow this one day and will seriously regret any changes you have done now.”
“Are we just going to ignore all of the psychiatric evaluation and counselling I must go through just to get hormones, never mind full blown surgery?”
“People pass that all the time and then regret changing their bodies, it’s useless”
“That’s it, I think we are done here.” Isaac said as he stood up out of his chair not caring any longer about making drawing attention or not.
“What are you talking about? We have only just started to talk about this.”
“It’s clear that you are never going to see past your own prejudices or get over your god complex so there is no need to put myself through any more pain than I need to.”
He walked out of the cafe, never once allowing himself to look back or to cry until he was safely round the corner and his car.
Slamming the car door behind him, he collapsed onto the steering wheel in floods of tears, his arms interlocked. Passersby could see and hear him in distress but did nothing but walk on by as thou he was not there. A couple of deep breaths and he started the car up and drove home.
Parking up in front of the house with a slight screech of the tires, he slammed the car door behind him and stormed inside throwing himself onto the sofa crying into the pillow on contact.
It was not until a few hours later when his father returned that he regained some measure of self control. Wiping his now red face with the bottom half of his shirt before flipping over the pillow so has to hide the evidence.
A tall man with a gleaming bald head walks in with a presence larger than himself. An unlit cigarette firmly clutched between his lips. He says hello without making eye contact and walks into the kitchen putting down the box of milk he had been carrying. He then proceeds in turning on the kettle before coming back into the living room.
“Hay up kiddo, you ok?”
“Yep I’m ok.” He lied trying to hold back more tears from bursting forth.
His father took a seat next to him and took out a lighter and lit his cigarette.
“So are you going to tell me?” He said in a rather frank manner.
“Tell you what?” Isaac said trying to look as if he was just checking his phone. Flicking through old text messages pretending they were all new ones.
“I’m your dad, don’t bullshit me. Come on out with it.”
“I saw mum today.” He began.
“I should have guessed that your mum would have something to do with this. Go on then what did that harpy do or say now? I’m guessing she did not completely drain you of all your blood seeing as how you’re still alive and all.”
“I told her something, something I need to tell you before I can tell you what she said.”
“This sounds quite serious.” He said crushing out his cigarette in the glass ash tray nearby.
“It is ok here goes. Dad, I’m Transgender. I want to be a man. I want people to see me as a man, I want you to see me as your son and I would like to be called Isaac from now on.” He blurted out.
There was a moments silence before tension was broken.
“Is that all? I thought it was something really bad for a moment then. You had me worried.”
“You did hear me right?”
“Ye I’m old but I’m not that old.” He said moving over closer to his child. “Listen you are my child and I will always love you no matter what. Nothing is more important to me than your happiness. Now how about a cup of tea?”
Isaac could no longer bear it he just allowed himself to cry and threw himself into his father’s open arms.
“Thank you dad” He said through closed eyes.
“You have nothing to thank me for my child. So what is it your mum said?”
“Oh it does not matter anymore.”
“Well as long as it does not matter, now how about that tea?”
“I’ll get it.” Isaac said.
“Well I certainly wasn’t going too.” His father said with a laugh and friendly punch in the arm.
A young man with short shaggy brown hair stepped out of a watch makers shop from across the street, spotted her and stopped abruptly. His facial expressions were calm and collected but beneath his chest his heart was ready to spring forth like a herd of startled deer.
Placing one foot out into the street followed by another, he walked over to the woman in the red velvet dress and without her noticing, purchased one of the roses while she was gently cupping a violet. She was about leave when he swiftly placed the rose behind her right ear. She turned to see the young man with a smile on his face as she reached up for the flower he had just placed behind her ear gently rubbing one of the petals between her thumb and finger.
“I don’t often receive flowers from gentlemen.” She said adjusting the flower.
“A gentlemen? You do flatter me miss.” He said lowering his head slightly.
“Morgan, Lady Samantha T. Morgan.” She said extending her. He took her hand and gently kissed the back of it. “I’m Joe Drennan and it’s a pleasure to meet you Lady Morgan.”
The excitement of the moment caused the blood in Samantha’s body to rush to her cheeks resulting in a colour that matched her dress.
“Thank you for your kindness, sweet Sir.” She said curtsying. “I had best be going. I have to meet my father.”
“Well it was a pleasure to meet you, Lady Samantha.” He said with a bow.
She departed, continuing to walk down the street only briefly looking back once to still see Joe looking on at her with a kind smile before disappearing behind a smoke cloud produced by a passing aerial automobile.
A couple of weeks had passed and Samantha had often spent most of that time thinking of the young man she had met by chance in the street. She was sat in the drawing room looking at the single rose she had been gifted with and had been keeping alive ever since in a small crystal vase.
A young maid entered the room and stood perked at the end of the sofa, hands cupped just under her breasts.
“You have been looking at that rose for quite a while my Lady. If you should wish it why not simply go look for him?”
Breaking eye contact momentarily from the flower, Samantha looked up from her perched sitting position.
“It is not in my nature to go seeking the company of a man. What would father say? In fact I know what he would say. He would say it is beneath my station and that if I seek the company of a man, he should come to me.”
“Nothing in this life worth having is easily obtained.”
Samantha looked back at the rose and smiled. “You are right Beth perhaps I should take a walk on the wild side as it were. But how would I even go about finding him?”
“When I lose something I start by going to the last place I saw it.”
“Beth?”
“Yes my Lady?”
“I will be out for awhile please let my father know that I may be late for dinner.”
“But of course, my Lady.” She said with a smile and curtsy.
Samantha had her driver take her back to the street where she first laid eyes on Joe. His short shaggy brown hair, his deep brown eyes, his tall dominating figure that gave the impression of safety and reassurance.
Not wanting to get her hopes up Samantha did her best not to think of such things until she was able to find him first.
Arriving at the street Samantha was greeted with the same familiar sights and sounds that she had come to expect having frequently visited this area of the city. Though there was one sight, one person she was most anxious to find.
After dismissing the driver and his car disappeared behind a low bearing cloud of smoke she went in search of Joe. She spent many an hour asking local shoppers if they knew of Joe and where she could find him. But this was to no avail no one seemed to know who he was or where she might find him. She felt that her search may bear no fruit and she would have to give up and taste the bitterness of defeat in this endeavour. A taste she would put on hold for now as she spotted him through the window of a watch makers shop right across from when they first met. He was standing behind the counter working on what she presumed was a watch though she could not tell as her sight was obstructed by passersby. Turning to a nearby shop window she checked herself to make sure she looked her best, a quick adjustment to her hair and a straightening of her dress and she was ready for judgment. Taking a deep breath, she turned on her heels and walked as calmly as she could across the street and walked into the shop. At first he did not seem to notice her standing at the door and so taking another deep breath walked up to the glass counter with many pocket watches varying in size beauty within.
Joe looked up from the watch he had clearly been working on for some time.
“Good day Lady Morgan.”
“Good day Joe.”
“How might I be of service to you, my Lady?”
“I was perhaps wondering if you would like to escort me to the city park for a walk and maybe a tea.” Her heart jumped into her mouth and her skin ran hot. She had never placed herself in such a vulnerable position.
“It would be my pleasure my Lady.” A wave of relief washed over her as the thought of rejection never accrued to her until the question had left her mouth.
After Joe locked up the shop they walked to the nearby park side by side the two of them exchanging brief looks at one another every few minutes but remaining mostly silent.
The park was filled with young lovers eating water crest sandwiches and drinking tea with lemon slices. The sun light was reflected off every single blade of grass and leaf giving all life that does not speak within the park a vibrant pulsating energy. It was like a living Michael Copus painting. Samantha showed him to a spot she frequently visited as a child with her family. It was a quiet little spot under a tall and proud oak tree of at least three hundred years.
This was, as most would understand, a critical moment in any potential relationship, the understanding of one another and the horizons of something much more or less.
They sat under the tree side by side overlooking a group of children playing and their hands accidently touched but for a moment as Samantha adjusted her dress and pretended it was accident which it was, or she convinced herself it was.
“Would you like a tea?” He asked, no hint of eagerness in his voice which she secretly hoped for. “Yes that would be most acceptable.” With that he stood back and wondered off towards a small tea room next to where the children had been playing. Each second of his absence passed by with thoughts of conversational topics none of which had any follow ups and there for were abandoned.
He returned with holding a tea tray and upon two tea cups and tea pot and two small glass pots. One containing honey, the other sugar. Something she saw as an everyday expectance but it came to her that perhaps this was stretching the coin strings somewhat and there for sure should show some appreciation for his effort.
“Why thank you Joe you did not have to go to all this effort, a simple tea would have been more than enough.”
“But you are anything but simple, my Lady.”
“Please we can put the formalities to one side just call me Samantha.”
“Very well, Samantha.”
Raising one of the cups to her lips, she took a sip of the tea embracing its flavours.
“So tell me something about you Joe?” She said lowering her cup.
“What would you like to know?”
“Anything, do you have any family?”
He looked away for a moment into the middle distance and sipped his tea.
“I had a younger brother once but he died a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry I did not mean to bring up any painful memories for you.” She said placing her hand on his shoulder. “It’s ok I will feel better about it one day. What about you?”
“Well I have a couple of older sisters but we don’t really see eye to eye. I have a tendency to stray from what my sisters deem proper behaviour for a young lady. For example they would say that this whole situation is unthinkable, a lady should not go off seeking the company of a young man. It is he who should show the initiative is what they would say.”
“I take it you are not into the traditional methods of courting then?”
“Not at all.”
She took another sip of tea. “Though, it is not something that has not come at a cost. Two years ago, I snuck out late one night to see a boy I had grown fond of. I took my father’s car figuring he would not notice before I got back. I was half way there and I had just begun to land when a small boy ran out in front of me. I did my best to avoid him but it was too late, I, hit him.”
Samantha lifted up her hand to wipe away a tear before it had a chance to fully form and fall. I still don’t know what became of the poor boy, whether he lived or died.”
“You mean you don’t know?”
“No my father’s guards picked me up and hurried me away. They had been following me since the moment I left the manor. Apparently I was not as sneaky as I had thought.”
“Have you ever thought of looking into what happened to that innocent child?”
“No my father even forbid me from ever even talking about it again. You are the first person outside of the family to know what happened that night.”
“And the last.”
“What do you m...” Before she could finish her sentence he had already plunged the spring loaded knife he had been keeping up his sleeve. Her eyes became wide as a small amount of blood began to slip out of the corner of her mouth and to the ground below.
“That is for my brother.” He said as he violently pulled back to blade leaving to slump to the floor. He wiped the blade on the end of her dress before walking away only pausing momentarily to smell a nearby rose.
These words are not spoken but I hear them none the less.
I tell the story of a young girl in love with her best friend but I am told this won’t work.
She will never have her story played out in the heads of strangers or twirl in that emerald green dress of hers that she got from her grandmother in chapter three.
A dress specially made to match her Paris green eyes.
No one will know if she gets the love of her life or is left found longing forever.
She dies before she lived, total attendance at funeral, one.
Why not remove that metaphor and make it simple? Why not remove that line there?
Maybe I don’t want it simple and maybe it took me four hours to come up with that metaphor, which I have great pride in. Maybe that line is fine. Why not give it another read?
These words never leave my mouth. There is simply no point and so I lie to myself I pretend I am someone else if only to force myself. Force myself to self harm with words I do not believe in. Paper thin lie punctured every three words.
I betray my pen, I betray myself.
My favourite colour is green, but green is not a creative colour.
I was thinking today about Birmingham, the city in which I was born and spent the first ten or so years of my life. I recall being picked on, a lot. I don't think I met a kid who was not a selfish little shit of a bully. So in short fuck you Birmingham fuck you and everything about you including having such a stupid name like Birmingham.
I had no idea how to work my gmail account, that is all I have to say on that.
Now that I am back however I will be filling the internet with my stories once again and I have a few more to show since the last time I was on. Hope you all like them.
Wake up late with a headache even if I had not been drinking {Really need to see a doctor about that} take about three hours to recover from having to be awake. Then I sit down to my laptop and three hours later start writing 98% of which will be crap by the time I fall down on my "bed."
I was supposed to take a class called mutant and monsters mythology but it clashed with my Monday class. So today was my first day in 16th century literature @_@ I sat there for over four hours and I still have no clue as to what the hell I have to do for that class. All the writing classes I wanted to take this year have been taken away from me and its really bringing me down. Does anyone have any advice.
last night I watched the film looking for a friend for the end of the world. This film really got to me and kept me up till about five in the morning thinking, what would I do with such a short amount of time left. So I want to ask anyone who reads the stuff I put out there this question. "What would you do if you had only three weeks left?"
“Go on, beg, it’s the only jolly I get in this line of work.” The man’s request was met only with a smile. “What is so amusing?” He said gun pointing straight down cross hairs fixed between the young woman’s eyes.
“I’m happy. For the first time in my life I have found something worth dying for and her name is Hope.”
“We will find her.”
“Not before she finds you.”
***
“Thirty pounds to my name, looks like I might have to short out an ATM or two if I want to get through the week.”
Sat on the edge of a tall building the pale moonlight shining down upon a young woman like a spotlight, her shoulder length black hair flowing gently in the breeze as she delicately crumples a couple of damaged looking notes in the palm of her hand. She tucks the notes into the pocket of her jet black cargo pants and sighs. The tall, soulless grey buildings of New London scrape the sky and the only way she can see it is to look directly up. The sky line of the city is dotted with bright multi-coloured L.E.D’s and flying cars.
The sounds of sirens echoed out into the night getting closer and louder. The young woman stood up the ends of her feet hanging slightly off the side. A squad car shot past her like a bolt of lightning not more than a meter from her face and yet she seemed unphased by this.
“That’s strange, a cop car that’s not after me for once. Where are you boys off to in such a hurry?”
The young woman began to give chase after the squad car as best she could, leaping and running over rooftops the wind rushing against her face. She could still make out the lights of the squad car off in the distance reflecting off every wall and puddle.
The police car had not gone far as the young woman found it at the entrance of on alley something that she might have missed if not for the lights beaming over the rooftops like it was hosting a rave. The two police officers had already got out of the car both had their guns raised. The young woman looked down to the back end of the alley to see what it was they were pointing their weapons at. To her surprise, it was a little girl. She had long black hair, green eyes and was shaking uncontrollably as all she seemed to have on was some white gown.
“Get down on the ground now!” Commanded the officer, taking at step forward, the cross hairs of her firearm still fixed on the little girl. “Get down on the ground, I won’t ask again.”
The little girl began to cry as she fell to her knees the two officers moving in closer. Their faces seemingly getting angrier. The young woman could see the tightening of the fists around the grips of the guns, their fingers starting to slowly pull back on the triggers.
Sparks of electricity then started spring forth from all over her body accumulating into spheres in the palms of her hands building is size and power. She then threw the first of the generated masses directly at the second officer. The impact of which blew him sideways into a wall as it made contact with his head.
The first officer turned on her heels to see her partners smoking body, his face half burned away and looked up to see the young woman shooting sparks from her body, still holding the other sphere charge. She pointed her gun up to the young woman and began to fire round after round.
The young woman leapt from her perch landing on top of the police car below causing all of the windows to blow out. The officer raised her arm to cover her face. Before the officer could raise her weapon again, the young woman threw her second sphere knocking the officer into a collection of bins with a crash. She then hopped off the car and walked toward the little girl glancing down at the female officer’s body for a moment as she did.
The little girl still shaking looked up at the towering figure that stood before her.
“Are you ok, kid?” She asked as if nothing had happened.
The little girl looked up at her saviour for a moment nodded and looked back down.
“Ok then.” The young woman nodded back before she turned and began to walk away. She didn’t get more than one step away before she could feel a tug on her trouser leg. She looked back down to see, the little girl grasping her ankle with shaky hands.
“P...please don’t leave me.” She said her voice heavy with fear.
The young woman shook her leg with a sigh releasing herself from the little girls grip.
“Look, kid. Just because I saved you does not mean I want to adopt you. I just didn’t want to see a kid get gunned down is all. So look, why don’t you head on home, ok?”
“I...I don’t have a home.”
“And you think I do?” She said as she started to walk away again but with each step she got slower and slower as if she were wearing a backpack filled with weights getting heavier and heavier until she came to a complete stop. For a moment she just stood there, in the middle of flea ridden alley with a smashed up police car, two dead police officers and a crying child. She could hear the sounds of her whimpering echo threw her ears.
She looked back to see the little girl propping herself against the wall, tears still running down her face.
“Look, if you want I know a place you get something to eat, you know, if you want.”
The little girl’s eyes lit up as she nodded. She then stood up straight walked up the young woman and stood next to her expectedly.
“What’s your name, kid?”
“Twenty four.”
“That’s a number not a name.”
“It’s what is says on my wrist.” The little girl said as she showed the young woman her wrist. Tattooed onto her wrist in jet black ink was the number twenty four.
“Right, Well, I guess I’ll just call you TF for now. Come on then, I haven’t got all day.”
“W...what is your name?” The little girl said with trembling voice.
“It’s Skylar call me Sky once and I’ll drop you like those cops.”
The young woman took the young girl out into the heart of the city but not before she destroyed the police car with another sphere of electricity that she casually threw over the back of her head like a grenade as she and her little companion walked away.
An hour later the two found themselves in front of an abandoned greeting card shop. Its windows long since smashed and boarded up as well as the door. The hanging sign above said house of cards though it was now long missing most of the letters. All that was left of where they used to be were dark smudged outlines.
Skylar lifted up a metal grate in front of one of the boarded up windows slamming it up against the wall of the long forgotten shop. Taking the little girl by the hand Skylar led her down an iron stair case leading into a long dark tunnel. The way was lit by Skylar having sparks shooting out of her index finger like a sparkler. They came to a large steel door which Skylar had no problem in pushing wide open with the soul of her boot reviling a candle lit room and once she had ushered in the little girl closed it behind her. The room was filled with computers, large screens, cameras and above them catwalks that criss crossed the room.
“Hay Gears, you here!?”
A young man wearing holographic glasses swung down from the one of the catwalks on a metal chain like a futuristic Tarzan.
“Hay Skylar, you come round to have your gears grinded?” He said with a wink.
“My orgasms are wasted on you.”
“You say that like it bothers me.”
“I thought you said you did not have a home.” TF said her voice now much calmer than before.
“This is a shit hole not a home.” Skylar said looking down at TF with a hand on her hip.
“Ok one I don’t hear you complain when you need a place to crash and second who is the kid?” He said glairing down at the child.
“The kids Twenty four and yes I do.”
“Twenty four? She looks about eight.”
“It’s her name.”
“Kind of a strange name?”
“It’s better than yours.” She said with a smirk.
“Not a single letter of that name shall be spoken in my presence.”
“Alright calm down will ya and get the kid some grub.”
“Ye sure I think I have noodles in the kitchen.” He said disappearing into a room next to a pile of broken computer monitors.
Skylar threw herself onto a matted brown sofa with a sigh of relief as TF began to look around the room. Her eye was caught by the sight of a large computer in the middle of the room with red and blue lights flashing on and off like little fairies. She raised her hand up slowly to touch one of the lights, a solid blue. Mere inches away from her finger tip a spark of electricity jumped from her finger into the blue lights blowing the tiny blue bulb. Seconds later the top of the computer blew off getting stuck in the ceiling. TF fell back on herself as Skylar jumped up out of her comfy position. She looked at the child with wide eyes a look the young child returned.
Gears ran back into the room and upon seeing one of his computers smoking like a chimney dropped a bowl of noodles he had been carrying.
“What on earth happened?” He said his eyes still fixed to what was left of the computer.
“She’s a charged.” Skylar’s voice was gentle, soft and yet oddly cold.
A tense moment that was broken by gears saying “Shit the bed.”
Skylar walked over to the now confused little girl and kneeled next to her.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I...I don’t, know what I am.” She said as a tear began to roll down her face and land on the floor below.
“You’re something to fear. Use it.”
Skylar turned to face gears. “We should get a reading on her to see how powerful she is.” Gears nodded.
Moments later Gears had popped the fearful TF into what he liked to call the test tube. A large glass tube with a rather uncomfortable seat in the middle.
“It’s ok little one no need to worry about anything ok, just sit back and relax.” Said Skylar her voice muffled by the glass. TF simply nodded.
Gears now sat at his rather large rounded computer station, began pushing buttons and running programmes. The tube then very slowly began to fill with smoke.
“Wh...what’s...happening?” She said while trying to get away from the smoke.
“Don’t worry the smoke isn’t harmful, just breath normally ok.”
The little girl nodded and began to calm down.
“What’s the read out, Gears?”
“My instruments must be messed up a little. I’m getting level eight reading.”
“But how can that be? She’s just a kid.” Skylar said walking over to look at the screen for herself. Her eyes grew in size when she saw the level eight flashing like a silent alarm.
***
Back at the ally a team of the governments special branch known only as the insulators had descended onto the scene lead by a man in white. He was looking down onto the body of the female officer. He knelt down and touched her face. A spark of electricity jumped from her check to the tip of his finger though he did not react.
“Sir we can find no trace of subject twenty four”. Said an approaching insulator officer his voice muffled by his black gas mask. The man in white stood back and turned to face him.
“It is clear that our little stray has been picked up. Deploy the trackers, I want her and whoever is hiding her found.”
“Yes sir.” The officer said with a nod then he and group of officers all dressed the same each took out what appeared to be steel spheres. They each pressed buttons and a red glowing circle appeared. They shot off into the night sky like a flock of birds relaying signals back to the insulators wrist computers. The man in white looked up at the trackers shrinking into the distance and smiled.
***
“So where do you come from? You have any parents?” Skylar said sat on the sofa next to TF.
“I don’t know what that is. All I have ever known is my room.”
“What was it like?”
“It was a large white room. I had a bed a toilet and that’s it. Isn’t everyone like that? It is all I had ever knew.”
“Why did you want to escape?” The little girl looked confused.
“What do you mean?”
“If it is all you ever knew why leave?”
“One day one of the ladies who comes in to take some blood made a face.” Now Skylar looked confused. “What do you mean she made a face? What kind of face?”
TF looked up at Skylar and smiled though it seemed forced.
“You meaning she smiled?”
“Is that’s what it’s called? Smiling? Well I saw her smile and I tried the same thing. It made me feel something, something I knew was better that the way I had been feeling up to that point. I wanted to feel that way again and so during one of my checkups I escaped.”
Skylar could not bear it any longer, she lunged across the sofa and wrapped her arms tightly around her. “What you felt was happiness TF and you have a right to feel it.” TF gripped her little hands tightly around a clump of Skylar’s shirt.
“We have the drop point.” Said Gears running into the room and Skylar nodded in response.
“What is he talking about?” Asked TF with a concerned tone.
“We are taking you to some friends of ours. Trust me TF they will look after you, they will make you happy.”
“I want to stay with you.”
“Trust me little one it’s for the best.”
“NO, NO, NO I WONT GO I WANT TO STAY WITH YOU!”
“Please, you have to understand...” Skylar was cut off by a loud siren and the room being doused in the glow of red lights. “WARNING, WARNING OUTER BREACH DETECTED.”
“What the hell is that!?” Shouted Skylar as Gears ran to a monitor covered wall. One of the screens showed Insulators pouring in the entrance they had clearly blown open.
“Shit they found us, those rats must have used those new trackers gadgets to follow your signature.”
“Is there another way out of her?” Asked Skylar. He turned to face her with a cocky smile. “Oh please.” He said with a smug grin. He began franticly typing into the computer that lay before him executing various programmes. All the other monitors and computers began shutting down one by one and after the last one shut off a section of wall at the far back of the room slid open to one side.
“Quick take the girl and get out of here and here take this with you.” He said sliding onto her wrist a funny looking watch of some kind. “That watch will tell you where it is you need to go.”
“What about you?” He took out a pistol from his back pocket and pulled back the slide. “I’m going to slow them down give you some time to get away.”
“Oh no you don’t. Screw the hero bullshit, you’re coming with us.”
The large steel door began to bang loud and hard.
“Look we don’t have time for this just take her and get out of here.” He said pushing her away. Skylar shut her eyes tight before turning around scooping TF up into her rams and running down the secret tunnel. Once they were through Gears shut the panel behind them with a push of a button.
Both Skylar and TF were barely half way down the tunnel before they could hear gun shots that stopped as abruptly as they had started. Tears began to run down Skylar’s face uncontrollably but she stayed the course.
At the end of the tunnel they came to a ladder that led straight up. They both climbed the ladder Skylar leading the way and once they reached the top they found a man hole cover which to a let effort to slide over to one side.
Skylar made a quick scan of the area to make sure it was safe before bringing up Twenty four. They both found themselves in the middle of a dark and empty street.
“Ok were not that far now.”
BANG the sound of a gun being fired echoed throughout the street and a fraction of a second later, Skylar hit the floor.
“SKYLAR!” The child screamed rushing to her side. She could see blood now seeping from her left shoulder through her shirt. She managed to find the strength to push herself off of the ground and stand back up clutching her wound as she did and through gritted teeth.
A man in white stepped forth from the shadows farther down the street pointing a still smoking gun in their direction.
“It has been awhile Skylar.”
“Agent McKay, you know I’m starting to think you don’t like me very much.” She said gripping her shoulder tighter.
“My feelings towards you are irrelevant.”
“You really think you can take me all by yourself?”
“Your kind make far too many assumptions. What makes you think I’m alone?” No sooner had he finished his sentence did fifty insulators stepped forth from the dark their guns locked and loaded. The sounds of their boots stomping and their breath muffles by their masks. Skylar looked down at the frightened child and knelt down next to her.
“I need you to do be a little favour.” She said as she slipped the wrist map off hers and onto the TF wrist.
“I need you to grow up so that one day you can put a stop to all of this. So right now I need you to run just follow the map it will take you to some friends of mine they will look after you.”
“I don’t won’t to leave you.” She said tears now running down her face once more.
“I know you don’t want to but you have to Hope.”
The little girl looked up at Skylar rubbing the tears from her eyes.
“What did you call me?”
“Hope, that is your name now and one day you will understand why. Now please go I will give you the time you need.”
Rising from her knelt position Skylar stood tall and proud electricity now shooting in and around her body. She stretched out her arms and threw up a wall that stretched from one side of the street to the other and as high as the buildings.
“RUN HOPE.” Skylar shouted and with each little step gradually getting bigger and bigger Hope disappeared into the night.
“Stop her!” Agent McKay yelled the Insulators began to open fire not pulling any punches but it was to no avail as slowed down upon coming into contact with the wall of power and fell through the other side.
With a wave of her hand Skylar turned the wall into a giant drill bit which she then threw into a group of Insulators with a second wave of the same hand. The resulting explosion threw whole group into the side of a building wall with a bloody mess.
She then fell to floor clutching her wound and desperately trying to catch her breath. Agent McKay calmly and casually walked over to her stopping just inches away from her. She looked up at his cold emotionless face. He took out a blue coloured bullet and loaded it into chamber of his gun before pointing point right between her eyes.
“Go on, beg, it’s the only jolly I get in this line of work.” His request was met with a smile.
“What is so amusing?”
“I’m happy for the first time in my life I have found something worth dying for and her name is Hope.”
“We will find her.”
“Not before she finds you.”
A single gunshot echoed out into the night sky drowned out by the sound of approaching authorities.
snowghoul
gracieabrams
vaporwave
2087
