FreeWrite#7

The page remained an unforgiving shade of white. For hours she’d stared at it, glaring brightly back at her, taunting her lack of progress. She’d been told she’d made a mistake, the life of a writer was not one that she could survive on. She heard these things while blazing through the newest Best Seller on the NY Times reading list. Oprah made millions on a book club membership for people to tell her that becoming a writer wasn’t lucrative.

She’d always had to defend her passion. The bubbly loud mouth would always simmer down when you placed a good story in her hands. Her brows furrowed glasses dangling from the bridge of her nose. She would momentarily immerse herself in a world of fantasy.

Where knights risked everything for true love and the pursuit of a good battle. Magic could be used to force sides, all things were possible. She allowed herself to believe this, because closing the book she was shown all things were not possible. She was told that if you don’t move fast enough opportunities will pass you by.

Told that her caramel colored skin made her desire to dress up in costumes unacceptable; that not enough people shared her interests for her to survive on sheer passion alone. It was unwise not to look for other venues or to refine her visions to match other people’s aspirations because her aspirations were too ambitious.

She often wondered if she was lighter or a man if any one would have ever told her that she was too ambitious. Wondered how much of her writing those “advising” her actually read. She been writing one thing or another everyday since she figured out how to hold  a pen. She wondered sometimes rhetorically, how many dreams they had pushed aside because someone said so.

Looking up she noticed that her page was no longer a blank face staring at her but a fluid moving entity that grew as she allowed her heart to spill into the keyboard. Her words stretched across the screen marching in time with the beat of her heart. Her words, that they’d often told her she’d used too many of, could no longer be ignored.

She never needed the wealth or fame that would naturally come. She needed to know that her voice mattered, forgetting the only person it needed to matter to was the one using it.

Dragon Hunter: Case Files of Erin Draconis

It’d been a family heirloom, the dusty book bound in worn animal flesh. She’d always been fascinated by the stones on the cover. Both a journal and an encyclopedia of sorts, it was among the things willed to her by her late uncle.

Vincent Draconis, renowned paleontologist had been keeping a secret. Though he had built his name and his fortune on the research and study of bugs and fossils they’d only funded his true passion.

He’d spent all of his youth and most of his elderly years pursuing and recording the few lasting breeds of an ancient creature. He’d stumbled on the existence of dragons. At first he needed proof that they’d really existed, he was sure the findings would make him famous.

Vincent had bee contacted by a secret order, sworn to protect the magical beings. At the height of their existence they were beings of untold power, every piece of their bodies could be used in potent spells. The dragons were almost hunted into extinction.

As a girl Erin had remembered going on many adventures with her uncle but none to explain this revelation. She’d seen him hunched over the book often, furrowed brow scribbling frantically while mumbling into a tape recorder. These moments she wandered the corridors of his mansion.

She’d been fourteen when she’d come to stay with her father’s brother; after a house fire claimed her remaining parent. Erin had lived through several tragedies at once for such a young age. Her mother weakened from the stress of childbirth gave her life so she could survive. At thirty – five Evan Draconis would fumble through her early years. They’d survived unscathed when Vincent fresh from college came to stay the first time. He’d become infatuated with fossils and decided to travel the world to study them. Her earliest memories were of his beard and backpack.

The backpack lay abandoned in the corner of the office now. his desk was still cluttered with maps and charts. He’d been planning to go somewhere prior to his stroke. Vincent was always full of life but he was a man of terrible health. In between meals he enjoyed copious amounts of liquor and fat. He was beloved, but had grown plump and slightly senile in his later years. The imminent stroke that claimed him was of no surprise; though it was heartbreaking just the same.

A knock at the door relinquished her from her thoughts.

The attorney had brought a flash drive she was to view alone and only after agreeing to the task on the drive. She’d signed her name and received a box promised to have everything she’d need for her new life. The lawyer shook hands and departed.

Everyone else had gone home.

She decided to watch the drive.

FreeWrite #6

Her boisterous personality spoke for her. Made up for her petite stature. She could not and would not go unnoticed. There was almost an adolescent quality to her, it was both endearing and infuriating at times. She was polite, occasionally absent minded, but only because she was already off to another bright idea. She posessed a mystifying inner calm that could not be stirred. Many wondered about the stranger, they’d heard her voice before actually glancing upon her face.

FreeWrite#5

It had been destined. Their souls often found each other sooner or later. Stood to reason they’d find each other now, on the eve of every major breaking point they always seemed the symbols of a change. Sometimes for the best, others signaled the end.

He was always the rebel, brutish and vulgar daring those foolish enough to take their stand against him. He was always poised for battle, his bloodlust taking over long ago. She his catalyst a being of creation, in her lived all the beauties of mortal life and all she touched were changed for the best.

The two together would build civilizations through time, but their great power was often coveted by outsiders who couldn’t understand.

She would always be the spark that ignited the flame; he, the blade to end it all.

Mali believed in freedom but thought creation was the start of change, wars only caused devastation, who would live to tell about the battle if all had perished fighting it?

Horus was a rebel his was a life on the edge, every moment had been a struggle. There were horrors in this world that once seen could never be unseen. He still had nightmares of the real life monsters that roamed the mortal coil.

Fate had crossed their paths as always. She had been running late to class, covered in paint and carrying arm fulls of books, her back pack had lost both straps and she was staggering to right her belongings while still shuffling her feet. Pre-occupied with her present dillemma, she hadn’t noticed the young man walking in her direction.

He’d been staring into the horizon thinking, about nothing and everything at the same time. When the young woman absent mindedly walking his way slammed into him, dropping all of her things. He would usually have stepped to the side but curiosity had struck him, he wondered if she would slam into him if he stayed his course. She had…

FreeWrite#4

The old well hadn’t been used for many years. The rotted wood that covered it’s opening had weathered another brutal winter and had bowed in the drying of the new summer sun. Alicia pushed aside the foliage that caged the makeshift cover, shoved the lid over the end and peered inside.

It was dark and reeked of mildew but there was no denying the well was a facade. Alicia craned a leg over the cool rocky surface and began her dissent down the hidden staircase. Water dripped in the distance, echoing eerily through the space.

Alicia felt a chill as she sank beneath the earth, curiosity propelled her forward. This stairwell  had been blocked and hidden for a reason, no map on the trails revealed its location and had she not fallen while running she herself would’ve continued by it.

There was a warmth she could start to feel, lights at the base of the stairs, there was only one path to follow she was getting closer. The silence surrounding her rang in her head one never end absentee note.

“What A Wonderful World in Vaunderlend” the subtle voice echoed in her head only.

At the base of the stairs was a wooden door, old and worn like the wooden cover of the well. A warm breeze crept through it’s splintered planks. Alicia inched closer and as she did, the distant dripping grew louder like the crash of waves.

Alicia tried pushing the door open, but it appeared to be locked. Light eeked through the cracks of the wood, daylight was coming, she’d been out all night.

The Pet Shop – Serket

“Sirens are not born young one, they are created.”

Sasha had been after the voice each night as it took her closer to the temple. Even now at nine months she had to obey it. Swollen and wabbling in the island heat, the moonlight hid her figure and the waves washed her footsteps from the sand. The island didn’t need any one to know she’d been there.

The majestic temple beckoned her inside, flames shooting from the votive on either side of the door. She’d gotten shipwrecked here more than five months ago and had taken pleasure in making this oasis her home. She had nothing left for her back in New York.

Cramming into miniature condos, commuting like a sardine. Her whole life had been one mundane task after another. Always looking for that something more people were always referring to. All of that ceased when she’d met Rodney. He was charming, an investor on Wall Street he had enough funds to keep her comfortable. The romance was quick and impulsive and four years later she woke up one morning pregnant and nervous.

They’d never discussed the prospect of children. Neither had any and Sasha was sure Rodney had no interest in being a father. Jet – setting across the world seemed more his speed and she was willing to take that ride. To her surprise he’d convinced her to keep it. Promised that she and the newborn would be royalty. She’d relied on his words to steady her nerves and looked to his promise as motivation to prepare for motherhood.

She couldn’t have known as she grew in size the weight of Rodney’s deception. She’d been planning to surprise him at his office. She’d usually call and alert his assistant but was shopping in the area and wandered into the lobby one day. The expression on Morgan, the assistant’s, face was a mixture of terror and intrigue.

“Ms… Ms….. Ms. Stephens, how nice to see you was Mr. Graves expecting you?” she sputtered.

The all glass room that was his office, showed clearly that he was not. A tall leggy brown skin woman stood up with some minor help from Rodney. Hugged Carl, Rodney’s boss in a familiar embrace before being escorted from the office by Rodney himself. Before she even had time to process what had occurred she speed walked herself in their direction leaving Morgan slack – jawed in awe.

As she moved closer she could hear the giggling. It sends shards of anxiety to her heart each step she took. Bridging the gap between them she finally was close enough to approach.

“Rodney!”she churped.

He and his guest stopped walking and he swirled around to face her eyes darting from the woman he had at his side and the one standing within arms reach. He’d been wearing the button up she’d bought him at Saks, a money green which brought out the red in his skin tone.

The woman Sasha noted, was generically beautiful, bright brown eyes. Perfectly coiffed hair, even several months pregnant she had that motherly glow everyone talked about. Sasha felt inferior by comparison. She hadn’t been handling pregnancy well, always sick, her hair was in a messy knotted bun thrown a top her head. She was wearing no make up and even comfy sweatpants betrayed her good looks. She felt on the defensive but was unsure why.

The encounter was awkward at best. Rodney did his best to hide the obvious truth but of course it had caught up with him. He’d been married for 15 years and the woman clutching his arm for support in the wake of his affair was indeed his pregnant wife. The “Miracle Baby” she’d been carrying was a product of prayer and In Vitro, the couple were told many years ago they’d never conceive.

Sasha saw first hand that Rodney was capable of impregnating a woman, what she hadn’t seen was his ability to actually love one. She was crushed, the revelation of his affair hadn’t phased his wife one bit. In fact her aggression was turned toward Sasha. Rodney allowed the woman to verbally brutalize his mistress before leading her away flustered to have a seat in the car.

Sasha stood there, alone, ears stinging from the down dressing she’d received. It was a far cry from how she’d planned the afternoon going. She didn’t wait for Rodney to return, expecting it’d be to embarrass her further she made her escape through the nearest exit.

For weeks she muddled through edging closer to her due date. Single motherhood had never been a plan she laid out for herself. She regretted that now. She’d work at that firm for six years, made a name for herself there, her name carried weight. She’d requested some time off to prepare for her new baby. They happily obliged.

Sasha decided to take a trip to clear her head, she’d been unable to fly for her Eat.Pray.Love journey so instead booked a cruise to Bermuda. Gaia called out to women in need. The island sought the heart-broken, their hearts sang a song and the island echoed it through the waves. The longing felt by ship’s captains were echoes of hundreds of sirens from the island.

Sasha had awoken from her sleep the night the ship sank. Something called to her from across the waves. Whatever  pulled her from the ship that night, protected her and her unborn baby. As each survivor emerged from the waves, the island claimed them as their own. She hadn’t noticed the crates then.

Settling into the island was the easy part, she had nothing tethering her to the real world and had been welcomed on the island with open arms. At the time, Queen Hilaya reigned and took her under her wing. When Sasha arrived the island had been in stasis. The Sirens frozen in sleep. No one had set foot on the island in years. Sasha and her Order had been the first, Hilaya readied her for childbirth, Sasha helped her to bring the island back to life. The sirens had always been known for leading men to their deaths, but Hilaya had other plans for her victims. Sasha would capitalize on that.

It felt like a lifetime ago, inside the temple, quiet and vacant. She was expecting more miraculous wonders but found herself in an empty room in the center of the room was a sarcophagus. The darkness she found inside changed things on the island forever.

The Pet Shop – Graduation Day

2

Evan rose proudly as they called his name, he’d worked hard for this moment. Top of his class with more than a few job proposals lined up in the future, his plans for the summer involved endless conquests. He surveyed the crowd of beauties parading before him. The campus was large enough to house over 30,000 students. Evan was sure he’d become acquainted with most of the student body but there were a few girls scattered through he knew he’d never seen before.

Kali Samson

Sentiva Smith

Sanura Stephens

The three young women rose almost in unison, single file towards the podium. Evan noticed the one in the front first, she never looked up from beneath her brown bangs. Shook hands quickly before moving quickly down the steps. Her photo taken she seemed to vanish into the crowd. The two women behind her disappeared just as quickly.

He could spend his last few moments as a student playing detective or celebrating his achievement. His frat brothers would be waiting, surely the campus was crawling with scantily clad female graduates.

The campus had erupted, it was graduation day, it was the end of finals it was the calm before summer session started. Students both new and old spilled into the Quad in droves. Some to wish congratulations others to be apart of the party following shortly.

Each year the local night life through a weekend long series of festivities to celebrate the graduating class. This year would be no exception the class of 2016, had been the most explosive class the university had seen. Evan had single-handedly been responsible for some of the campuses most memorable moments. Like the Bikini Wrestling Wet T-Shirt event, he’d been inspired, all wet t-shirts got in for free.

His agenda, to be young, wealthy and desired. Having no family to tie him to one spot he was free to follow the money. The money would be taking him to the West Coast in September. He had a month to prep and pack.

Evan had managed to make it back to the fraternity house in record time, the mass exodus of students fleeing collegiate life  made traffic lighter than  normal during the school year. He’d earned his bachelor’s and was ready to take on the world, waiting at the red light his eyes roamed over the buffet of women passing in front of the intersection.  Amidst them all his gaze maneuvered to the young woman standing in the intersection. The unknown beauty from the ceremony. Flanked by the two women who’d been behind her, they were all animatedly chatting while crossing the street. No one turned in his direction. He’d considered lifting his foot off the brake just slightly to garner their attention. As he pondered the young woman looked in his direction.

Her green eyes were the last thing he recalled. A horn blaring angrily behind him shook him from his thoughts. He couldn’t remember her face but her eyes, had indented his brain he could feel her eyes everywhere.