NightMaiden's Stories

Like a Lark

2008-09-08T18:38:47Z

This is way too good to be true!

“Really?” I piped, quite literally, too.

Lin cried out in frustration, and Cricket watched her warily.

“Really,” he replied, nodding his head seriously. “You get to pick one famous musical and a song of your choice.”

“My voice is horrible!” Lin said, her black hair sweeping dramatically back and forth as she shook her head in defiance.

“I pick the ‘Sound of Music’,” I said, swaying back and forth to the melody that I was humming.

“A classic,” Cricket agreed. “What about you, Lin?”

“Who is going to be the judge?” Lin asked, her black eyes sparking dangerously.

“Why, Mama Rizzo, of course,” Cricket said, adjusting his glasses.

“What?!” this time both of us cried out together.

“She’s got a great musical ear, and was taking singing classes way before you guys.”

Mama Rizzo popped in from the kitchen, looking satisfied. “When you were starting out, I had come back and gone again.”

“Huh?”

“Is an Italian-Greek saying,” she said, a wide grin gracing her face.

Can You Hear the Harmony?

2008-09-07T21:05:29Z

I shrugged, my heartbeat picking up.

I was scared to open my mouth, in case another operatic voice would come forth from it.

My look was clearly that one of what-the-hell?! because Cricket frowned deeply.

And then, I heard something that made my eyes widen so much I thought they were going to roll out of their sockets.

“Mama!” Tony cried, sounding distressed. “Where did you put my round harmonica?”

“Ai, Antonio, why you tell me not sooner? It was around here somewhere.”

There was silence as they shuffled about in the kitchen.

“Mama, you didn’t put it in the pie, did you?”

“Of course not, Tony!”

I’m sure I looked pale enough to rival a bed sheet. Cricket, on the other hand, looked ready to burst.

With what, I’m not sure.

“Ey, Tony!” he shouted, and the Italian man popped into the room immediately.

“What?”

“I think I know where your harmonica is,” Cricket said.

“Really? It would mean a lot – “

And then Tony’s gaze fell on me. “Uh oh.”

I only nodded meekly.

Crazies...with Spoons!

2008-09-07T19:53:47Z

“She’s a cute kid,” Cricket remarked as Cara darted out. I smiled along with him, my throat still aching from the flu.

Soon, Cara came back in, carrying a tray that precariously swung this way and that.

I steadied her with a firm hand, and she gave me a wide smile that I thought would split her face in two.

The rhubarb pie, to say the least, looked ethereal.

It had been so long since I had even tasted rhubarb. What can you expect?

Running around like a maniac, being chased by maniacs (namely, those with spoons), tripping over roofs, whizzing down laundry lines, being called ‘smelly jasmine’ and now a sports competition?

Besides, Master was still missing, somewhere in the wilds of…well, I don’t know if he’s in the wilds or not, but he’s somewhere hostile, that’s for sure.

“Are you gonna eat that, or am I going to do it for you?” Cricket’s voice made me warp back into reality.

“I turn down your offer, kind sir. I shall dine with the utmost pleasure,” I answered, and then cut a chunk of pie.

Take a Moment

2008-09-07T19:27:09Z

I sat in the heather, letting this one moment of bliss pass by without a qualm.

I deserved the quiet and peace once in a while.

Did you ever know that nature is almost like a musical instrument?

This is going to sound extremely like something out of Pocahontas, but if you really do close your eyes and listen, you can hear every sound and tune around you.

There’s the rustling of the leaves upon the bark, and the branches swaying together.

The roots of the trees clamber over each other like clumsy school children, racing to get to school and only succeeding in ending up in a heap of limbs.

The fox tends to her kits only a few yards away, nestling them deeper into the den and clicking at them in annoyance with her jaw.

Deeper, further away, there’s a cacophony of screeches as a clutch of newly-hatched eggs await their first feed.

Songs drift up form the forest and the ocean.

All you have to do is pay attention to them.

Just lose yourself in the melody.

It’s not hard, really.

Honestly.

It Bakes!

2008-09-07T19:13:31Z

My head sank into the pillow.

I was feeling defeated.

What if Cara cut her arm off while trying to slice the rhubarb? Okay, that was the flu talking, I’m sure.

I closed my eyes, feeling unbelievably weary. Mama Rizzo had come into my room a few minutes earlier, with a bowl of steaming eucalyptus water.

She had draped a damp towel over my head, and then made me sniff the fumes.

Surprisingly, my sinuses had been blasted clear by the minty smell.

I pulled the blanket up to my nose, burrowing into the warm covers.

I tried squeezing my eyes tighter shut and picturing my family’s house.

I tried imagining sitting outside on the porch on a summer’s day, eating sweets and having fun with the cats.

The fever didn’t really help; it was making me shift around constantly.

Soon, the aroma of baking pie reached my nose, and I inhaled gratefully.

That smells really good…

I turned on my other side, and flipped over my pillow to get to it’s cool side.

I let myself slowly drift off into sleep.

Sick Leave

2008-09-07T17:46:25Z

Lasagna therapy? I mean, what’s next? Maybe I’ll take a tomato sauce bath.

I shuddered at the thought. I had been wondering around the shack for a few minutes before ending up at my room again.

My bed looked awfully comforting; I took a shower, changed into my pyjamas, and slipped into bed.

You know that feeling you get in your mouth when you have the flu? That kind of ‘yuck-ick’ feeling that makes you want to just lie down and sleep the day away?

Yeah, well, that’s what I was experiencing.

My eyes were just about to slide shut when my door swung open.

I groaned inwardly, expecting another one of Lin’s spoon monologues or a sport-threat from Cricket.

I sighed in relief when I saw it was Mama Rizzo.

“Ah, bella!” she said, sitting on the edge of my bed, “you don’t look very…good.”

“I don’t feel good, Mama Rizzo,” I told her, turning on my side.

She laid an expert hand on my forehead, and I jerked at her cool touch.

“Mama mia! You are burning up, child!”

Great. Just what I needed…

To The Rescue! Somewhat, at Least...

2008-09-05T20:29:51Z

At first, my brain hadn’t quite been jarred into being sensible, so instead, I just gawked like a dope and repeated.

“Run? How could I possibly run? You’re – “

“Listen to me!” she hissed, and then squinted in pain, her shapely face contorting into a grimace of agony. “You have to get out of here!”

“B-but…why?”

“No questions asked,” she said, blond hair falling into her eyes.

“What about you?”

This sounds like something out of 24…

“Are you deaf, girl?” she was very near to screeching. “You have to leave unless you want to die a slow and painful death!”

That did it.

But I didn’t run.

Instead, I bent over to get her out of the car. Okay, it wasn’t the best idea ever. I might have injured her, but other than a gash on her forehead, she seemed alright.

I’m not strong…at all.

Heck, I was called ‘Noodle Arm Holly’ for six consecutive years in gym!

Hoisting a bleeding woman twice my size to God knows where isn’t exactly on my daily agenda!

The rain was blinding.

Where to?

Solitary Confinement

2008-09-05T18:35:23Z

The dark cell was damp, and smelled of humidity.

The guard that was…well, guarding it, or whatever was in the damned cell, had been ordered to slide the food under the door, just like he did twice a day.

All the time he had been standing guard, there had been not even one sign of life from the enclosed cell.

Not even the sound of a breath. Not even the rustle of fabric.

No one came to change the bedsheets. The door was never opened.

The wood was a deathly white, with a red cross standing out at the bottom, bloody and vibrant in scary splendor as the day it had been painted.

There was something fishy about this entire thing, and the guard, who will go unnamed, did not like it.

Yet, he still slid the food and water underneath the door, and straightened his back again, until a soft voice nearly startled his breeches off.

“I don’t like walnuts.”

He exhaled sharply, and answered back, making sure his voice wasn’t shaking. “Too bad. Eat up or you’ll get no other rations.”

“That is too bad.”

Tally [Jailbird Challenge]

2008-09-05T05:13:21Z

How long has it been?

I looked to my wall, long mutilated with marks of others and mine, something steady in this world of insanity.

I ran my hand over the tally marks, counting them silently.

Twenty years.

Has it really been that long? The number by itself scares me, whether I spent in prison or lived it out – that’s seven thousand three hundred days.

I didn’t understand their logic – much like Cockroach over in cell C-3. Surprisingly, there are innocent people in Alcatraz, and Cockroach was one of them.

All of those days, spent – no, wasted – incarcerated in here for a crime I didn’t commit.

I remember it vividly.

It was sunny out; the school was bustling with children.

I remember standing outside whilst it was engulfed in an inferno of ochre flame – I remember the screams and the bodies.

I remember the stench of burning flesh and charred hair.

I remember the police reading me my rights and cuffing me.

Why would a mother possibly blow up the school that housed her kids?

The Silent Guardian

2008-09-04T20:33:56Z

The older man stepped back at the tremendous change in my physique.

Had I control over my face, I would have smiled again. Yet, my limbs felt still and leaden again; a suffocating, albeit familiar sensation.

Dennis, however, seemed unfazed – despite the threads of illness drifting about him, I could sense a powerful will to live within him, and silently praised the boy.

He would need it in times to come.

The tombstone was cold, and I felt the chill spreading through my previously warm body.

The headstone was intricately carved in granite – no easy feat, considering that humans had less than a quarter of the artistic qualities and equipment my people possessed.

With a small twinge of defeat, I realized that I was now a part of the lavish design.

Now, I had reverted to just another creation for human eyes to slide carelessly over.

I was something that would make them shiver, or leave a flower behind in respect.

It would eventually wither, like all things.

Strangely, I felt at peace.

I wonder why.

The Ultimate Translator #2

2008-09-04T14:50:15Z

There was a click and a whir, and the machine immediately started to work.

The sentences were projected onto a huge, white screen behind Syllabus.

“The bold represents teens, and the italics the parents,” the Professor explained, watching the letters crawl across the screen.

Go back to your room and FIX it! : You have five minutes until I blow my top.

Oh, my God! That is so, like, rad! : Put that down. You’ll poke someone’s eye out with it.

Yeah, yeah. : YES .

I’ll be right there, honey, : You’d better be ready for some waiting.

“Hey! The last one doesn’t apply to all parents!” the only lady in the audience cried out, and Syllabus turned to stare down from his perch again.

“It is merely how the children view the phrases.”

The lady gave a huff, and sat back down.

Where were you? : Prepare for a lecture. I expect you to sign a full confession afterward.

It’s nothing, mom. : It’s something and more!

There was silence over the auditorium as the scientists watched patiently.

The Ultimate Translator

2008-09-04T14:39:51Z

Professor Syllabus stepped up to the podium, adjusting his spectacles in the gleam of the auditorium lights, ready to give a science lecture.

“Gentlemen!” he began. There was an pronounced, sort of ‘I’m here too’, kind of signaling cough from the front row, and he peered down his nose. “And lady.”

“We are gathered here today to discuss the extremely interesting psychological exchange that occurs during the miss communication from parents to child and vice versa. “

Professor Syllabus gave a tiny cough, and took a sip of water from a conveniently placed glass of water.

“It is with the most fascination that I present to you the Ultimate Translator!”

Syllabus shuffled to the front of the auditorium, showing off a small, white gadget that looked much like a minuscule laptop without a keyboard.

“You select the sentence that you would like to translate, and communication between parents and child is instantly easier.”

Appreciative ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’ came up from the crowd.

“Let us test it out, shall we?”

Waking

2008-09-03T16:19:04Z

I awoke to the rays of the morning sun; it was pleasant, and I stayed in my spot for a little more so I could heat up enough to get going.

I yawned a jaw popping yawn, and stretched my human limbs far above my head.

The ground had been rough, but when I had fallen asleep, I was still a dragon – the surface of the ground did not have a large impact on my skin, seeing as I was practically walking armory.

I had slept on a high cliff overlooking a human marketplace. It was now bustling with peasants.

I looked down at them, cocking my head slightly at the way they walked.

I may have grown up amongst humans, but something always felt wrong about them. There’s no other way I can describe it.

It’s like I was expecting to see something else, but all I had was humans.

I shrugged, and started to walk down the path slothfully, taking my time.

It wouldn’t be long before Simon’s troops came with their pitiful spears to come capture me, so I decided to savor the moment of temporary peace.

Temporary.

The Wrath of the Spoon Ninja

2008-09-03T16:08:03Z

The ball came whizzing into my line of sight, and I whacked out at it, executing a pretty professional backhand.

It bounced in Lin’s side of the net, and she threw it right back at me with a little more than ‘normal force.’

As I hit the ball back, I noticed the look of anger on her face.

She was irritated about something, that much was sure.

The birdie flopped unceremoniously onto my side of the net, and it was a point for Lin.

Too many thoughts at once.

“One, love!” Tony announced, and my mood soured. She wasn’t going to win so easy.

I aligned the ball with my elbow, and threw it in a precise, clean cut line above me head.

I felt the assuring reverberation of the birdie against the face of my raquette as it flew over the net.

Lin’s face turned into a more intense grimace, and she swung at the ball, getting it right in the center of the face.

Strange thing was…the ball never came back.

I gaped.

She had hit a hole through her raquette!

Sketch [400 Ficlets Challenge]

2008-09-03T12:01:44Z

He was sitting at a table, presently, sipping at a very sour smoothie.

Heck, this was supposed to be strawberry! Not the type of lemon that gives you wrinkles within the first few minutes of sucking…

Jeremy pulled a face equal to his drink, and set it down disdainfully. He let his eyes travel around the room.

His gaze settled on a raven haired girl next to the window, drawing in what seemed a black, leather bound book.

Jeremy watched as her eyes flicked back and forth, looking for something to revise, something to fix.

Her head was lifted when she spoke to the waiter, and Jeremy noticed that her eyes were an electric blue that seemed to stand out despite the distance.

It reminded him eerily of a white tiger he had seen a few days ago in the zoo. He searched for a word, and found it almost immediately.

Hypnotic.

When she left to go to the ladies’ room, Jeremy took the opportunity to walk over and see what she was drawing.

A tiger?

“Hey! What are you doing? Get away from my notebook!”