Pearls and Formaldehyde's Stories

1865

2008-03-07T00:24:21Z

Night
Through forests they march
Through someone’s unharvested field
Through their own backyards
To battle

Fight
Rifles aimed at foes
Cannons blazed at friends
Bayonets charged at brothers
To protect their home

Light
Weary bodies move steadily
Down paths they’ve always known
To family’s warm embrace
War forgotten

Preparations

2007-11-10T15:09:58Z

The carriage ride was unbearably long for Mykel. He kept thinking of his ever-approaching demise, Astarte’s eyes a constant reminder.

They skidded to a halt in front of a large, gothic mansion. Mykel was unchained and shoved from his seat onto the ground. Worms grabbed him and hauled him in through the front doors. Pushed to the ground yet again, they disappeared. And then he was in the arms of two very pretty women who smiled kindly at him. He was jerked to a white marble room, in the center of which was a bath. They scrubbed away seventeen years of grime in less than two minutes. They primped and pampered for what felt like forever before he was placed in front of a mirror.

All in all, he had to say he wasn’t bad on the eyes. They’d cut his light brown hair to a manageable shagginess. His face was clear of blemishes, resembling the pure marble he stood on. They’d even given him new clothes.

“My, what a transformation,” Astarte drawled from the door. “Are you ready for dinner, Mykel?”

119

2007-11-08T00:25:50Z

Head tips back
Numbers and random information crowd
Can’t think straight
Mind’s moving like a freight

In love with who I can’t have
Homework is killing slowly
Face burns red
Embarrassment and failure I dread

Push joins with shove
Books slip from my hands
I hit the floor
Can’t take this anymore

Call 119
I need a doctor for the brain
Hit me with a steady beat
Give me something simple to handle
Examine this skull of mine
It’s heavy with all this pressure
This pain is almost too much
The life of a freshman is such

Doodles swarm notes
Love-lorn distraction
Disguise this lust
Hidden from all the mistrust

At home the tears flow
Over pages of algebra
The numbers mean naught
In this confusing web I’m caught

Need to get a grip
Need a steady beat
The pain is almost too much
The life of a freshman is such

Death of a Friendship

2007-08-28T23:19:00Z

It started with note
With words of hate and pain
I don’t know why I wrote it
There was nothing to gain

You weren’t supposed to get it
You weren’t supposed to see
It was to go to the trash
Now your disappointment is weighing on me

But in a twist of fate
You read every line
Got sick with anger
Your hurt feelings a clear sign

I can’t belive it happened
The fires of your soul I lit
I hate myself like you hate me
I sit in the deepest part of Hell’s pit

I’m not worthy of forgiveness
This is the start of the end
It started with note
It ended with the loss of my best friend

I’m so sorry…

Killing the Monster

2007-07-30T00:41:25Z

Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
With this stake
I deal the pain of the just

You’ve killed too many
Who didn’t have a clue
You’re a monster without a soul
They didn’t hold a candle to you

But you made a mistake
Because you didn’t kill me
And now I’ve tracked you down
To slay you with glee

You took my voice
You took my face
So now I’ve come
To be rid of you, every little trace

But my hand stills
This deed I cannot do
It would be so much easier
If I didn’t love you…

Grown Up Too Soon

2007-07-09T01:13:56Z

A mass of people in black were crowded in our living room. A closed casket sat in the back. Even though the lid was down, I knew who lay within: Private Emory McLeod, my father…

My ma had ordered the casket be closed ‘cause she couldn’t stand the sight o’ him in his deathly cold state. She also told us that she hadn’t wanted us to remember him like that, but as the brave soldier and good man that he was.

Bein’ a young girl, the rest of the family kept telling me it was okay to cry for my loss, that it must have hurt somethin’ awful and that I should let it all out or I might explode. But I refused. Also bein’ the oldest, I had to set a good example for my little brother and sister. All three of us sat beside the casket. Little Mary was cryin’ her eyes out, and Isaiah looked like he was about to burst. I just held them because I couldn’t muster up words of comfort. The pain of losing my pa hurt so bad I couldn’t speak. But I had to be the strong one, because no one else looked like they could be.

A Soldier's Wife

2007-07-08T22:50:58Z

As I stepped out on my porch, watching the sky shift from bright blue to quiet purple, I thought of my husband. It was all I seemed to do lately, but I tried not to appear distracted in front of my family and friends, for fear that I would cause worry.

The last I saw of him was the day he’d left, nearly four months ago. The night before he’d come home in his uniform, looking so handsome and so proud that all of my objections to his leaving dissipated. So all I did was give him my full support and my ever-enduring love, sending him off with a heartfelt kiss.

The other day I had received a letter from him, telling me that they had recently been victorious and not to worry, that he was a man that could hold his own in battle. He also told me, in the event of his death, that “If I fall, remember you have given your husband to the most righetous cause that ever widowed a woman.”

Returning to the house, I pressed a kiss to his picture and prayed for his safe return.

*quote credited to Strong Vincent

In the Heat of Battle

2007-07-04T21:09:57Z

The fight had consumed me. We rushed forward without a second thought, believing in our leaders’ judgement. Baring our muskets and rifles, we charged, screaming with the insanity and bravery that had been gathering inside of us.

My brother was beside me, looking just as scared as I was. We stopped and crouched low to the ground, pointing our guns in the direction of the rebels.

In an explosion of smoke, they fell around me like dominoes, some dead, others crying out in pain. In the time period of less than a second, these once proud men were reduced to whining children. The ones that had not been hit, myself still miraculously included, could do nothing for them as we were ordered to keep moving. They grabbed at our feet, screamed for assistance, but we could give them none. In all the madness I had lost track of my brother. I had never felt a greater guilt, but I pushed the thought from my mind as I took aim once again, praying to God he was still with the living.

A Shred of Proof

2007-07-03T01:48:53Z

I had been coming on these tours for a few months now, hoping to catch some glimpse of someone or something from the afterlife. The guides knew me as one of their own I had been here so much. I just wanted one shred of proof of an existence of the afterlife. So far, I was pretty disappointed.

Tonight, I was on Molly’s tour. Like always, she led us down the streets of the town, showing us places where soldiers cried out in pain as their limbs were sawed off and where orbs would appear before your very camera lense.

As we moved on, I stayed at the very back to help an elderly man along. He got moving and I started forward, but I suddenly I smelled perfume, sweet roses. I felt something brush against my arm and a lady’s soft whisper in my ear…:

“My name is Elizabeth. Please hide me!”

I turned to see who it was that pleaded to me only to be greeted by empty space.

The End of May

2007-06-24T00:31:35Z

“How’s your burger? Hopefully better than mine…” Mike muttered, eyeing the McDonald’s double cheeseburger with slight disgust. But he took another bite, probably for my sake. I was the one who liked McDonald’s, not him.

“Just as good as always, I guess,” I muttered, taking another bite of my Big Mac.

“That’s the last burger you’ll ever have,” he grimly stated.

“Yeah, I know…” I had been trying to avoid thinking like that. Leave it to Mike to remind me I was going to be dead in less than a year. Suddenly, I felt sick to my stomach, and couldn’t finish eating so I put it back in the red cardboard box and started sipping my cola.

The look on my face must have been bad because he put his burger away and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. Softly, he kissed my shortly cut black hair.

“I love you, May,” he murmured.

My blue eyes caught his brown ones in the dying sunlight, and the coming tears choked my words. Life is so unfair.

Picture Perfect Ending

2007-06-22T06:13:18Z

The smell of blood and smoke was thick in the air. Bodies surrounded me, some friends, others foes. Though they all had the same peaceful look of death on their faces. I feared I would soon join them.

The pain in my leg was immense as I tried to move. The same pain was in my midsection. The battle had moved over us, into the larger fields of open ground ahead. I knew that I would never see another battle again, even if I survived here. My worst fear was never seeing my darlings, my wife, Delia, and my newborn daughter, the latter of which I hadn’t even met yet. Delia’s face flashed before my eyes, tears gathering.

“God, please help me. And if you cannot, then take them into your arms and help them in the dark times to follow my passing…”

My eyelids began to droop, the heat and the pain gnawing at my last bits of strength. I pulled out the photo of Delia, looking one last time at her beautiful smile as my eyes began to close, welcoming the restful darkness.

Chains and Rubies

2007-06-22T05:41:51Z

Mykel was pushed inside the carriage, hands chaining him to the seat by his hands, mid-section, and feet. The vampire took his seat opposite him as the gray-skinned worms climbed onto the back of the transport.

Mykel now had time to take in the appearance of his buyer. His hair was a rich brown that flowed in waves over his shoulders. His marble face was hauntingly handsome. He had a wide chest, muscular, dressed in a black shirt with intricately designed silver button, pants and boots black as well. The rings on his fingers were silver and gold, some adorned with jewels. He looked Mykel over, his eyes as red as rubies, grinning wolfishly. “My friend, you smell utterly delicious.”

Mykel swallowed hard, gaining his voice. “Will you kill me?” It was an obvious question with an obvious answer. He began to say the prayer again in his head.

The reply he got was not the one he expected. “We shall see. It is all up to you,” the vampire drawled. “My name is Astarte, by the way. And quit the damned praying.”

I Love-Hate You

2007-06-22T03:52:31Z

Those eyes.
That smile.
There’s something sinister
Yet desirable…
You make my blood boil.
You make my heart thump.
The butterflies in my stomach
Are sick of you…

It’s love!
I hate you!
It’s love!
I’m going insane…

One word.
One motion.
And I’m yours.
Wanted or not.
You make my head spin
You make my knees quake.
You think you’re so perfect.
And you are.

It’s love!
I hate you!
It’s love!
I don’t need this turmoil.

Last song.
Last dance.
A tango for two.
I’m dancing alone.
I want you bad.
I need you bad.
But you make me so mad
yet so happy.

It’s love!
I hate you!
It’s love!
Baby, I love-hate you.

Bleeder

2007-06-22T02:35:51Z

The dim glow of flashlights shined in front of him. By now, Mykel had gotten used to the blinding glow and looked ahead with defiance. Dark blond hair was dishevled about his pale and fair face, marred slightly by the dirt from living in the “cattle” quarters. Pure green eyes sparkled with anger.

The men and women that crowded around him poked and prodded at his arms and his body. The others of his kind squealed and screamed, but he was silent. He was a bleeder, nothing but food to the vampires he loathed. He had accepted his fate a long time ago.

“Back away, you animals,” a smooth voice called out. The crowd around him parted for the speaker. A man in elegant black clothing stepped forward, pulling Mykel up by the arm. A talon-like nail ran down the side of the boy’s face. Mykel considered spitting at him, but resigned. Better to loose a little blood and live than to get smacked so hard your skull gave in.

“You’ll do just fine,” the vampire said, smiling. His fangs made Mykel shake with instinctive fear.