Rose

I need help! Will you help me?
I’m trapped; a prisoner to a cruel and evil master. He has trapped my feet under ground, holding me in place; eliminating any chance for escape. He has cut off my arms, right to the shoulder. But when the fingers begin to show, my master, he gets angry. He sharpens his knives and cuts deeper into the flesh.
“To preserve your beauty my dear.” he tells me. My head is his prize; my beauty is his goal. One faultless head to preserve forever. Our only purpose in life is to reach perfection. I have seen many times my brothers and sisters falling to disease, dying before their time. Others I have watched reach acceptation from the master, only to reach the chopping block. My poor friends; I loved them so.
But if you’re lucky; if you’re perfect, you may get to live. My lucky brothers and sisters have their one foot in the grave, far, far away from our master. That’s what keeps me going.
Our conditions are harsh. We get fed once a day; always cold and in liquid form. But it is sufficient. Everyday we are groomed, to keep out arms and feet in check. The master slowly tries to sculpt us into his perfect prize.
Can you save me? Will you save me? My name is Rose; don’t let them kill me. Please don’t.

my Love is an Angel

My love is an angel,
an angel of glass.
Crystal eyes,
and wings of snow.

But now I sit by the fire,
watching them shatter in my hands.
I don’t understand,
how we are so powerful,
yet so weak.

My angel’s blood,
stains my hands forever.
the sun sets taking my heart
leaving me in the dark

Oh love, how I miss
the touch of your skin
the love in your eyes
forgive me my angel

I shatter the mirrors
like I shattered my angel
So I don’t see the monster
that sits on my shoulder
telling me what a good job I’ve done

when love is lost

When love is lost,
Sky greys,
Heads lower.
No one tries.

Lost,
I run,
High into the mountains,
Where air is thin.

I breathe deep,
Slowly losing my mind.
Where were you,
I’m so lost without you.

I crave your voice,
Your touch,
Your kiss.
Please come back.

My head spins,
Out of contol.
How can you save me now?
Would you save me now?

Many questions dwell inside me,
None that can be answered.
I hate my self,
But not as much as I hate you.

The Words of a Hated Man

I don't like where I am. It scares me. Every face I see; it's dark and soulless, empty eyes staring back at me. I try to escape, but it's impossible. I made a deal with the devil, and I have to accept that. Clawing at the walls of my mind, trying to find a tear or a rip is pointless. All I asked for was a good and long life with my family. Was that so much to ask? And in return all he wanted was for me to live within my mind. How hard could that be right? In my mind my world was my own; I could control everything. But I was sorely wrong. The fears and the nightmares that I had tried so hard to lock away at the back of my mind have found their escape. They terrorise the perfect world my mind has come so accustomed to. It was a beautiful, peaceful world. But that now is shattered. The ghosts of my past come back to haunt me, and though I no longer live and walk in the world, they still hurt me, reminding me of the horrible things I did while I was awake and walked the Earth.
I look upon what I have left behind. I see family, beautiful children, mourning for their loss. Oh if they only knew of the pain I had caused in my life, of the horror I had created. I guess I had it coming.
The blood shed by the men I once knew, but the men I trusted was done by my command. I am truly sorry for what I have done, but I couldn't change it even if I had the chance. There was no other way, right? What's done is done. These people's lives have shattered in my hands like glass, and I do not regret my choices. It is my people that I must protect at all times, and if that means living in hell for all eternity, then I must do what I have to do. Again, I am sorry.

The Water's Secret

He held the gun in two hands out in front of him, pointed directly at her. His jaw was set, and he looked completely serious about what he was going to do. But she saw it, only for a moment did he let his true self come though his eyes; a moment of weakness. Though she did not relax at this sight as he was still pointing a gun to her chest and was in the midst of mental instability. Of course she had an idea why he was brought to this decision, and she hoped there was a way to coax him out of this act.
“Eric-” was all she said before he pulled the trigger. The horrible noise created by the small object rang loudly in her ears, rendering her deaf for only a moment. She screamed and jumped back, tripping over her own feet and falling to the ground. But there was no pain, except for the pain radiating down her side from where she had just landed on the cold, wooden floor. He had missed her, purposely, aiming to his far right.
“SHUT UP!” he yelled. “Just shut up, ok?” There was a moment silence except for Eric’s heavy breathing as an endless train of thought passed though Maria’s mind. What had she gotten herself into?
“Please.” she begged, her voice just barely passing for a whisper. But in this cold night, not even the crickets sung their song, and all was heard by Eric.
“Why?” was all he could say. He let his arms hang effortlessly by his sides, the gun though still held firmly in one hand. She couldn’t look him in the eye, and looked down at the ground instead. She didn’t want to answer him. She didn’t want to admit that the only reason that she was here was because she was afraid. She didn’t want to admit that there was nothing that scared her more than love; a true relationship that really meant something and wasn’t just another high school fling. But she couldn’t admit that to him, not now, and not anytime in the future. But it was obvious that he wanted an answer and he was going to extremes to get it his way. But with his fragile condition she knew that there was no way for him to accept that without someone getting hurt.
He came to stand over her, but she still wouldn’t look at him. She flinched as he stretched out his arm to help her up. She paused before taking his hand and standing up. She was unsure why he suddenly changed, but she was grateful he wasn’t yelling and threatening her with the gun anymore. The gun, she was well aware of was still in his other hand. He held tightly onto her hand as he whispered in her ear.
“An eye for an eye has always been the best method, right?” he raised the gun to her stomach, this time he wouldn’t miss. She caught her breath, trying not to scream, and struggled to escape his grip. He caught on tightly to her arm, digging his nails into her skin and pinning her to the wall.
“Please, Eric, no!” she begged, tears streaming down her face, and her body shaking violently. The loud, shattering noise of the gun once again rung loudly in her ears. But this time her deafness wasn’t temporary, and immense pain radiated from her stomach. She didn’t want to look down, but she could feel the blood dripping to the floor.
Eric fell to the ground with her, never taking his eyes away from hers. He was astonished at what he had just done. But he had done it, and there was no going back. She was just barely hanging on to life, and her breath was slowing as the seconds passed. What had he done?
“I’m sorry.” he whispered as she finally left him, and he was alone in the world, with no one to help him no matter how much they tried. Maria was the only person who truly knew what he was going through, and some how she had pulled through her own painful past to live a perfectly happy life, even enough to come back to help him. But he wouldn’t let her. He didn’t want to move. He was too comfortable in his depressed state to ever fix things, and he knew that would ruin his life. And when she turned her back on him, realizing that there was no hope for him, did he really appreciate what she was trying to do. And now that was all gone.
He dropped the gun, and lifted her up, letting her head rest on his shoulder. Her blood had begun pooling around them, and as he carried her out of the room, rubies were scattered in a trail behind them, like foot prints. He took her outside and stood in front of the lake that had caused him so much pain. It was quite strange to think that all of his misdeeds of the past month and the misdeeds of many people before him were the fault of a lake; a body of water that moved and danced when the wind and the moon commanded it do so. He placed her down at the water’s edge on the soft sand, and lay beside her. The hours felt like seconds, and before he knew it, the tide had risen enough to finally sweep him under its grasp, taking him and Maria into its murky depths where they settled to it’s floor making their final resting place. And just before he let death take him from this world he opened his eyes one last time to see the treasures of the water; the price paid by all those before him. Into the eyes he stared of all those who sold the souls to the water demon.

Nightmares

Screams and the sounds of rock crashing against harder rock.
That's all I hear. I'm pretty sure some of those screams are from my own mouth, but I don't care. I have to get to her, I have to save her. But something is holding me down.
Warm rippling muscle, twisting around me, turning me away, focusing in on me with sapphires with darkened souls. Their darkness wrapping around my wrists, taking me away from my world. More screams - this time I don't know where they came from - and then there's silence. A kind face shelters me, telling me everything's alright. But he lies - there's something wrong, I know it.
A bright light blinds me, and I'm gone from the world that scares me, and I'm back home. Back in my warm bed, snuggled under my blanket. I don't like my dreams any more. They scare me. I thought dreams were like worlds our minds create when our lives are hard, a place we can retire to after a hard day to live in a strange sense of bliss. Why can't my mind just be kind to me and give me a break for once.
"honey, what's wrong?" my mum asks from the door. "You were screaming."
"Nothing, mum. Just another nightmare."

Macbeth

They follow me closely,
Like the night follows the day,
And their pain radiates from them,
Like smoke from a fire.

They moan,
And they wail,
Constantly reminding me,
Of the deed I have done.

At every slight noise,
They scream in my ear,
making me jump,
And swallow my heart.

"My hands are your colour,
But I shame to wear a heart so white."
But I know her heart,
And it's is as black as the burden I carry.

My skin glistens with the crimson,
That is thicker than water,
But in my cruel act,
I have broken my sense of family.

The gold that surrounds my head,
shields my aura,
And hides my fear,
Surely they know.

Day after day,
I find that death is upon my door step,
never for me,
but by my command.

I have murdered sleep,
And while I wake and walk,
I do not fear,
But as I close me eyes they return to me.

My beauty has gone,
her heart to beat no longer,
And with her hands in mine,
I find I no longer need her.

I see my death in front of me,
in the form of a man,
born not of woman,
And I call to him and laugh.

Love is a melody

The music is so soft,
yet it beats inside of me,
louder than my heart.

It makes me want to shout,
to sing,
to make the world know of my happiness.

So beautiful and sweet,
Warm and comforting,
I feel safe when I hear the notes ring loudly in my ears.

I makes me catch my breath,
makes my skin tingle,
Makes me want to cry and laugh.

I have to hear it,
over and over,
I never want it to end.

But then the notes get slower,
softer than before,
and I know I don't have long to soak it in.

For this is just another song,
just another melody,
just another boy trying to win my heart.

Blind

"You don't want to go outside." said the young girl. She had snuck up behind me, and I jumped in surprise. She looked about sixteen and wore a long dark shirt and skinny, dark jeans. She was covering most of her skin. She had long, thick, dark curls that cascaded down to her waist. She looked so unlike the other teenagers I had seen around. Most teenagers would have cut their hair short, or at the very least coloured is some very unnatural colour. But her hair looked natural. And her clothes, why did she cover so much up? It must have been almost 38 degrees Celsius. I craved to go back to my apartment and get out of this drab suit that was a mandatory uniform at the office. I often envied the young who could wear such free and colourful clothes. It's funny to think that a little more than a decade ago I was one of them. But it seems that the second you turn 25 you just get turned into some zombie worker drone.
"Why not?" I asked.
"Because they'll get you. They can smell you." her expression didn't change, but she glanced outside, though the large, floor to ceiling, round window in the wall beside us, before focusing back to me.
"What will get me? There's nothing out there, right?"
"Nothing living." There was an eerie note to her voice. "It's the silver vampires. They'll find you quickly and kill you without mercy."
"OK now you’re just making up stories." I said, turning from her to the door. I peered through the small, circular window in the door. Behind the door was a small room, or what was left of it anyway. It was a mess. It looked as if something had come and taken a great bite out of the side of it. The furniture was ripped apart and there was broken glass covering everything. Somewhere, off to the right, a broken electrical wire sparked brightly. Long purple curtains just barely held onto the wall, and danced lightly in the breeze. I had never felt a breeze before; natural that is, only watched it from behind two inch thick glass.
"Why would I make up anything like this?" she asked her voice and face expressionless.
"Because you're a child, and children make up stories." I told her promptly.
"Do you really believe that, or did they tell you that?"
"What?" I had no idea what she was talking about, and my chance to step outside was thinning.
"Why do you want to leave, Mr Davis?" she asked, tension building in her voice.
"I...how do you know my name?" I had never met this girl before. She stood out in such contrast to the rest of them, I would have noticed her if I had met her, right?
"Why do you want to leave, Mr Davis?" she repeated.
"I don't want to leave; I just want to see outside."
"But if you go out there, they'll get you. They have no mercy."
"Yeah, I got you the first time." All emotion had left her voice, and I felt like I was no longer talking to a human. She stared at me blankly, wanting better answer. "Listen kid, I don't know who you are, and I don't care. Just leave me-"
"Everything alright here sir?" A patrol officer was just passing by as I began to raise my voice. He had just rounded the corner of the long corridor; I don't know how I didn't hear him coming. I guess I could say the same about the girl.
"Yes, every thing's fine." I smiled. I had become good a faking a smile now, even when I felt like crap; it was second nature to me now. He nodded, and continued walking down passed us and rounded another corner.
"Just leave me alone." I hissed when I thought the officer was out of ear shot.
"I'm trying to help." her voice flat.
"There’s nothing to help. I won't go outside." I told her. She smiled and her face suddenly came back to life.
"Well that's good. I'll see you later." she said waving and following the path of the officer. I hoped I wouldn't see her again. I turned back to the window. It was so quiet there. I looked down the corridor, both ways and strained my ears for any noise. Nothing. I reached out slowly to the door knob. I didn't even know if it was unlocked, but I had to find out. It was the first time that I had walked down this corridor. I was just taking a short cut, when I saw the yellow and black police tape cutting off the door from the hall. I had only slipped under it when the girl appeared. As I turned the golden handle it squeaked loudly. I stopped suddenly and glanced over my shoulders, as if that small noise had been amplified around the whole building.
"Relax." I told myself. My heart was racing. I didn't know what was wrong with me. Maybe it was because going outside was wrong; I've had that drilled into my head for as long as I could remember. Then again, how could I go outside anyway? There were no doors to the outside, and the windows were next to impossible to break. And even if you did, somehow break a window, where would you go? Then, I was on the top floor, level 183 and all floors under level ten were restricted in any building. There were over one hundred buildings in this small town and the only way to get between the buildings was to catch the train that connected them all together on level 30.
The train! I looked down at my watch. 6:55pm. my train would leave in 5 minutes. I dashed under the police tape and sprinted off down the corridor to the station.

The Secret Beach

Sun light poured over me, warming my skin as I stepped out of the car. It’s funny how less than one hundred kilometers can make such a difference in weather. I hadn’t been out in the sun in about three months. Getting away from the city was getting harder and harder since Simon got the position of city keeper, though we all called him the executioner. He was harsh, and recently set up new rules and curfews. But as long as I got back in a few hours, no one would notice I’m gone.
The sand was hot under my feet. The crystal blue water stretched out in a perfect line making the horizon. I could taste the salt in the air, only a few more meters and I could feel the salt on my skin. The water was cold but welcomed. The sky back at my village might be constantly grey and looked like it was going to rain, but on most days it was so humid that it was hard to move. I dived under the clear water, letting the coolness surround me. Oh how I wished I could live here, come here every day. To sit in the sun and swim in the water would be paradise. Even if it meant abandoning my people. Not that they cared. Since my brother Henry died, I have no use in that hell hole. I live for myself, and make no use to any of my neighbors, who are quickly becoming aware of it. I know that if I make no go use soon, I will have to work for Simon. That’s were most orphans with no talent go. It’s sad really to watch them all being exploited. They all work like slaves. If only there was something I could do. Henry had a talent. If he was here still to provide for us, then I wouldn’t have to work for Simon. He was the best artist in the village. His paintings were so perfect. They were so good they looked like photographs, which got him a lot of business because clear photographs were hard to come by now. We could have been the richest family in the village.
I took another breath and submerged myself in another wave, the refreshing water taking away memories. I wish I could breathe under water, and then I could escape into the ocean, live among the fish as if I was one of them. If only. I don’t have a talent, I never have. They always told me I was lucky to have Henry, I knew I was. I didn’t mind all the other students gossip and laugh at me when I took a study period every time we had our elective. In a school day, the first four periods were classes like maths, English, cooking, cleaning, any sort of knowledge we need to get along in life. The last two periods were dedicated to our elective, our talent, which we either picked, or our teacher chose for us. Neither my teacher nor I could decide which elective I would fit in. So instead I spend my last two periods in the library, studying. I didn’t mind, really. Beside all I want to do is live here, by the water.
I walked out of the water, the hot sand sticking to my wet legs and feet. I laid out my towel, spreading the sand, and sat down, putting on my hat and glasses. The sun dried my skin slowly, giving me a dark and even tan. No one back at my village knew where I got my tan from. Everyone else was so pasty because of the clouds. The beach was a family secret, so everyone in the Winters family had a deep tan from coming to the beach so often. Ironic how my name and my looks clash so much, eh? But that was helpful and made no one question me. They all thought that colour ran in my family.
I sat up again and stretched, I must have fallen asleep. I must have not slept very long because I hadn’t burned yet. And that’s when I saw him. He stood down the beach, just out of my vision. He was a blur, but I could tell he was there. It was impossible. No one followed me, I was sure, and no one knows about this beach. I was sure of that. I stood and began walking towards him. He didn’t move.
“Hey!” I yelled. But he didn’t answer. I was getting closer, but he was not becoming clear in my vision. What was happening? I yelled to him again, but still received no answer. Suddenly in the corner of my eye I could see a hint of purple. I gasped and turned that way. I saw it up in the sand dunes that eventually grew to thick bushland. But there was no purple mist. I turned back to the boy, but he was also gone. How could he do that? There was no where he could hide in that time. Though the fog could be the only explanation.
Two hundred years ago, the world was different. People had freedom to do and go where ever they wanted. Then the purple fog came around. They called it the eggplant flu, because the mist was an eggplant colour, and smelled like one too. The teachers at my school taught us about it. They said that when it first broke out, the humans had a sort of immunity to it, well some of them anyway. Most of the old population grew sick with what everyone that was the common flu, hence the name eggplant flu. But in a few weeks these people would die very quickly of dehydration. Scientists and doctors of the world tried the best they could to find a cure, and they thought they did, for a while. The rest of the population was injected with a something that they though would prevent death from the eggplant flu. But it only stopped the weeks of sickness that was followed by death. Instead people began just dropping dead at the first breath of the fog. That was when we were rounded into communities like mine, to be protected from the fog. I don’t know how a wall like the three meter tall brick one that surrounds my village will shield us from a deadly gas, it’s a bit stupid to even consider. But we don’t question it. It has seemed to work for the years that they have been up and holding together.
My great great granddad, when he was about twenty, my age, figured out how to climb the wall; distract the guards and climb the tree. Easy I guess, but it’s easier said then done. My granddad was so good that he was going down to the beach once a week. He taught my granddad, who taught my father, who taught Henry, who taught me.
“You shouldn’t be taking you little sister to the beach.” my parents yelled at my brother when they noticed my tan.
“She’s fifteen; I think she’s old enough. Besides, why hide it from her, the beach is beautiful.” I never went as often as my brother did, but I didn’t complain. Going at all was good enough for me. But soon after that, my parents died. Although the wall kept out the fog, it didn’t keep out the other diseases humans were prone to. Like malaria. I wasn’t even allowed to say goodbye before they died, they didn’t want to loose another life to the awful virus, no matter how useless my life is.
I walked up the dune and stood on the edge of the bushland. I was risking my life by following what I think I saw, but I was fast, and needed to know if I did see something. Maybe I could out run it? I peered into the cluster of gumtrees that blocked my vision.
“Hello?” I yelled. But I got no answer. I looked up at the sky, at the sun. It was about five in the afternoon. “Shit!” I ran down the hill to pack my things and sprinted off to my car. I had only a little more than an hour before curfew.
I drove back to the house where we first found the car, only a block away from the edge of the wall, and ran down the street. It was a much longer trip back then I had expected, and it was past curfew. An icy wind beat against my face and the thunder roared in the distance. I climbed the tree that edged the wall. As a new rule, Simon cut all the trees on the inside of the wall down, the ones that were too close to the wall. He didn’t tell the rest of my village, to stop panic. If they knew that someone could climb the wall, chaos would break out, or at least Simon thought it would. Only Henry and I realised. And that is how Henry died. We were trying to get over the wall when he fell. I didn’t see it happen, but I heard the snap. I had to carry my brother back to the hospital. They didn’t ask me too many questions; I was too upset to answer anyway.
It took me a while to go back to the beach. Not only for the fact, that it took me a while to learn to climb the ridged edges of the wall, but because it hurt just to come back to the place where it happened. There was no blood, in was a fracture to his spinal cord that had killed him, but in my eyes, the area was drenched in an eternal sadness that forever reminded me of him. I had gotten quite skilled in climbing the wall, and thankfully years of weathering and decay had created grooves in the wall, perfect for my small feet. I hauled myself on top of the wall, and sat low, momentarily to scan the area. This was probably the furthest point from any houses, and ahead of me was a vast area of trees. There were no guards below or around me, just yet, so I leapt down, landing unsteadily on my feet and sprinted to wards the dim glow of the village rising softly above the tree tops.