Two Truths and a Lie

Too often we prattle on
Reaching out with thoughts alone
Unable to bring ourselves to speak
Seeking love, silently, not appear weak
Tucking misery in our chests to sleep

 

 

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Kindness Where Thought There Was None

Stop doubting yourself, be bold. –Gordon Ramsey, MasterChefUS

For I have traveled so far, not knowing how I look
Even thinking that I am nothing more than a crook
And forgetting at times that I can be so much more
Reality is something that was always such a chore

And then came another
Who stood in front of me
Who I thought would criticize
But only bolstered me

I’m Lost

It’s morning and you wake up in bed. The bed is not familiar nor is the room that you’ve woken in. Your clothing isn’t familiar either and though they are cozy feeling against your skin, you are  frightened but trying not to show it.

You hop out of bed and look into the closet. More unfamiliar clothes but half of them fit you while the other half you can tell with a glance belong to a man. You dress quickly, not paying attention to what you throw on except that it fits. You ease the door open and find a hall. You creep down it, listening intently for any sounds.

“Do you think she’s up yet?” You hear from a room at the end of the hall. Light spills from an open doorway.

“Soon enough. She was pretty out of it last night.”

You listen carefully for anything else, but the rest of the conversation is nothing important or earth shattering, they’re only talking about the weather and whether it will rain later in the day or not.

The floorboards squeak under you and you flinch as the sound of someone standing from a chair reaches you. You are too afraid to move as a man comes to the doorway.

“Honey!” he smiles and a part of you wants to be afraid because you still don’t recognize anything, but another part of you feels safe just by the look in his eyes. “I’m glad you’re awake!”


Written for an old FreeWriteFriday prompt.

Merciful Coward

It wasn’t something that she had done. No, it was never something she had done. It was always the opposite.

It was what she hadn’t done.

What she had allowed others to do.

All because she was weak.

There were those that said differently, that said what she had allowed to happen was a kindness, was mercy.

“You could have sunk to his level, ma’am, if you had killed him.”

“You granted him the mercy that he did not grant others.”

“You are more forgiving than many.”

What they did not realize was that there had been no mercy in her heart, no forgiveness that had stayed her hand.

It was cowardice, pure and simple.

She’d never been alone, not truly alone, as she’d always had her other half with her. Even if they were on opposite sides of the globe she would still hear and feel her other half in the back of her head.

Her other half was gone now, sent away to give her a chance at finding more than just her life, but her very sanity.

She could no longer hear her in the back of her mind, could not longer feel whether or not she was happy or even still lived.

And so when her cousin, the one who was her brother almost in spirit if not in blood, had knelt before her, hands chained behind his back and a defiant look upon his face and bruises scattered about his frame, her hand froze.

Instead, she had him banished and his abilities locked.

But though she was older than most empires and countries and the written memory of mankind, even she was not omnipotent nor all-powerful. Her abilities, while stronger than his, were not as tricky.

It wouldn’t be until much, much later that she learned that he had found a way around the binding. The fullest parts of his abilities were still out of his reach, but he had enough to cause more than just mischief.

One of the things he had been partially successful in undoing was the runes that would bring him to her or her to him. She would still be able to find him, but it would be a hunt across space, time and the dimensions throughout them.

“I didn’t spare him because of mercy or forgiveness.” she would whisper to the night sky, “I left him alive, because like me, it is hard for him to die and I did not want to be the last of our kind.”


Inspired by this week’s quote from Light and Shade Challenge.

Every man is guilty of all the good he didn’t do. –Voltaire

Remembering – Thankful Thursday

Thirteen years ago today, I was in a U.S. History class, watching the news and waiting for class to start.

Thirteen years ago, my second eldest sister and her husband were getting ready to fly out to their new posting in Germany.

Thirteen years ago, my eldest niece was my only niece and she was barely learning how to crawl.

Thirteen years ago, for the first time in my life, I feared losing not just my sister, but my brother-in-law.

Thirteen years ago, I prepared for my niece to possibly have to live with us and without her parents.

Thirteen years ago, their posting didn’t change, but their way to get to it did.

Thirteen years ago, my sister’s family had to drive across the country and catch a military flight instead of a commercial one.

I am thankful this day not only for those who died saving people from harm, not only for those who continue to fight and protect today, but also for the knowledge that my niece didn’t have to pay the same price that so many other children have had to.

Thank you to all those who work towards the safety of not only citizens of this country, but others as well.

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image: sister’s phone

These are her children, two of which were born several years after September 11, 2001.

Make sure to read the original Thankful Thursday as well.

Once Even I Was A Little Child, And I Was Afraid

Matt hummed softly as he walked down the long hallway, carrying his precious bundle so carefully. Halfway down the hall a door stood open and inside was a bedroom done up in soft warm colors, reds and browns and golds with an occasional touch of blue to offset it. He moved towards the bed which was already turn down, the quilt showing a starburst pattern on it.

Once his little bundle was placed in the bed and tucked in he sat on the edge of the bed and ran a hand through the child’s hair and his humming continued and moved into words.

Little child, be not afraid
The rain pounds harsh against the glass
Like an unwanted stranger
There is no danger
I am here tonight
 

The little girl in front of him smiled and rolled over so that she could peek up at him through her eye lashes, humming along with his little lullaby.

Little child, be not afraid
The thunder explodes
And lightning flash
Illuminates your tear-stained face
I am here tonight
 
And someday you’ll know
That nature is so
This same rain that draws you near me
Falls in rivers and land
On forest and sand
Makes the beautiful world that you see
In the morning
 
Little child, be not afraid
The storm clouds mask your beloved moon
And it’s candle like beams
So keep pleasant dreams
I am here tonight
 
Little child, be not afraid
The wind makes creatures of our trees
And the branches to hands
They’re not real understand
And I am here tonight
 

She frowned slightly, sleepily at the words about the moon. Matt smiled, but kept singing softly. He knew that she’d always preferred the sun or the stars to the moon, but this was the way the song went.

And someday you’ll know
That nature is so
This same rain that draws you near me
Falls in rivers and land
On forests and sand
Makes the beautiful world that you see
In the morning
 
For you know once even I was a little child
And I was afraid
But a gentle someone always came
To dry all my tears
To switch sleep for fears
And to give a kiss goodnight
 

Matt’s voice shook slightly over the previous verse, remembering when his mother would sing him to sleep. The little girl’s eyes had slipped closed by now, but she was still just slightly awake, so Matt carried on.

Well, now I am grown
And these years have shown
The rains a part of how life goes
But it’s dark and it’s late
So I’ll hold you and wait
Until your frightened eyes do close
 
And I hope that you’ll know
That nature is so
This same rain that draws you near me
Falls in rivers and land
On forest and sand
Makes the beautiful world that you see
In the morning
Everything’s fine in the morning
The rain’ll be gone in the morning
But I’ll still be here in the morning
 

After the lyrics had all been sung, Matt continued humming slightly though the little girl was deeply asleep. His hand had long since stopped carding through her dark red hair an sat limply in his lap. His eyes hadn’t stopped watering throughout the ending of the song and tears were still trickling quietly down his cheeks.

Little Mary snuffled softly in her bed, unaware of her silently crying son next to her.


This little snippet is far into the future for this little universe, but it’s been on my mind for a while and I had to write it down.

My mom often sang us to sleep at night, so much so that the first thing I have ever tried to get my nieces and nephews to sleep is some of her songs being sung softly.

Running From Fear

Keep running, keep running, keep running.

“They’re catching up!”

Heart racing, pulse pounding, sweat trickling in my eye.

“We have to go faster!”

“I’m going as fast as I can!” I try to yell back, but there isn’t enough air in my lungs to do more than gasp. My lungs are burning and my legs are slowly but surely turning into rubber. I don’t know how much longer I can keep going.

My companion must know it, because he reaches back and grabs one of my hands and pulls me along.

I have no idea how he’s still moving and talking and dragging me along as I stumble.

“Keep going, keep going, keep going!”

I don’t have enough breath to say anything in response. I can only cling to his sweaty hand with one of my own and stumble after him. I know that the only reason I’m still moving is because he’s dragging me along in the wind.

It’s not until we’ve reached some kind of stone building that I realize there is no one behind us anymore.