BlackInkWords

April 14, 2011 They said to start with something from my old life that I loved. They said that maybe writing it down would help me remember. I want to remember, so I said that I would try. There is a house in New Orleans They call the Rising Sun. It’s been the ruin of many a poor boy And God I know I’m one. My daddy used to sing that song to me before bed. At one point I couldn’t sleep without it. When I got older he stopped singing, but I knew that he would if I asked. When I had the nightmares, the black and terrifying ones, all I had to do was remember his voice singing that song, and it would beat away the shadows once

I have just a moment, one tiny moment to prepare. I meet his gaze from across the room and my response is instantaneous. My eyes dilate, heart racing, muscles tensing and a blush across my cheeks. He smirks, probably thinking I’m aroused. In a way, he's right. Fight or Flight? I feel like an animal in this moment, like a rat who will try to escape when threatened and only fight if cornered. Perhaps I could stand perfectly still or play dead in hopes that my predator loses interest... I rather wish I was a fish right now- one that could swim away or change color to camouflage myself. And therein lays the problem. I am not entirely s

"So. Miss...Green? Yes, Green. What would you like to talk about?" "nothing." "Surely there's something on your mind, otherwise you wouldn't be here. Please, feel free to discuss whatever it is openly with me. I'm here to help." "you know, it's a sin what you get paid." "Beg pardon?" "one hundred and twenty-six dollars and fifty-four cents per hour, taxes included for you to listen to my problems." "That's a standard fee, Miss Green. I can't control how much-" "how much of the cut you get? yeah, you can. you take just enough to offset taxes so that you're basically immune to them." "Miss Green, we aren't here to discuss my salary, we'

     Goat-face scrambled backwards, putting Pig-nose between him and Draven. Draven ducked his head and charged, axe trailing a dusty plume in the dirt. Around him the air was filled with the buzzing of arrows, turning the forest into a hornet's nest of barbs and points.      To his credit, Pig-nose stood his ground. But then again, Draven supposed that the fat outlaw couldn't have moved fast enough if he had chosen to. Axe to sword, Draven came upon Pig-nose, swinging from low to high in a murderous arc.      "Stop!" This time the call came from somewhere behind Dra

Cinder and Yura were standing at the center of Cosm's ring of law offices. Not the geographical center, as they were standing on the ring itself, but the metaphorical one for certain. Yura's father was the chief of police, after all, and this was his HQ. Cinder, ever fascinated with history, had a healthy appreciation for how terribly a bad force could tip the scales and how what a good force did shouldn't be impressive or awe-inspiring so much as keeping everything smooth enough that day-to-day life could press on. Cinder loved the station, but Yura and she knew better than to wander any farther than the commons, and there they planted the

Chapter 1. Ravens Rest. Drip - nine hundred and one. Drip - nine hundred and two. Drip- nine hundred and three...four...five. The ever recurring monotony of hollow echoes from water dripping into a puddle would be enough to drive a lesser man insane, but not Draven Reinhardt. Born of Torne blood of the Keltir clans, he, like the rest of his people, was a hardened soul, accustomed to the hardships of life and death in a world where the only thing that was sure, was that sleeping with both eyes closed was a dangerous thing to do. Some might even call it foolish. Others called it profitable. Draven Reinhardt was living proof of that

     'Blood and fire.      The dirt road ran red with blood. Thatched log huts roared with crimson flames, the evening sky above stained as if by blood from the guttering red sun. The raiders were obscured in the smoke spawned by the conflagration, their spitting torches a beacon to track the course of the chaos. Shadows flickered within the dark smog, shadows wielding swords tainted with crimson blood.        Keltir clansmen, women and children daubed bloody and screaming, fled from the wreckage of their homes. Horn-helmed Vikir marauders hacked down all t

After a long night of tossing and turning, we finally woke up and dragged ourselves out of bed around noon. Paige grabbed her bag and went to change in the bathroom down the hall while I picked up the trash that we had been surrounded by the whole night. She came down a few moments later, bag in hand, and waited for me as I put the last of the food away in the kitchen. We said our goodbyes and promised to call each other later. I watched her walk out the door and went back upstairs to my room. I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do with a whole week and a half to myself but I knew I wasn't going to spend it sitting around the house w

Dear Girl In My Future, I really hope you're not staring down that same gun barrel, wondering why nothing much has changed for yourself. Do you miss the girl you once were? You do, don't you? You used to be that girl who skipped down the halls a bit too carefree for the likes of the normal people. You sang in languages no one knew and danced to songs you probably shouldn't have, but hey: life was good. I wish I could know for sure what life is like for you now, but since I cant, let's make a checklist, shall we? 1. Are you following a dream? Your dream job, your dream family, any dream at all? No? Come back when you are. 2. I see you've

                                  Chapter 5 My dream started off simple. The first day I met Stan. I was only a few years younger than he was, but no one would let that go! Yes I always understood that he was much older and most likely wouldn't even notice me at all, but I was determined to talk to him! To at least be able to say hi, finally I got enough courage and gave him a handmade key chain with, he laughed and told me it was big enough to be called a bathroom key. I was there once again, the first time I met him. It was a small club in down town and the high school band was playing 'come fly with me,' by Frank Sinatra, I sat in the