Showing posts with label fear. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fear. Show all posts

Monday, September 19, 2016

Smile, My Friend, for Death has Come to Visit

So, I made a promise to myself that I would share the good and the bad. And I'm not ovely fond of this particular story, but a promise is a promise. Ugh. Please forgive me in advance. The prompt for this was: "We go to war with a smile on our face because we are friends of Death himself."

Bit of backstory-ish on the main character - one Victor Ragnorock. He's not "my" character per say, but a friend of mine has offered him up to me so often to use in my stories (especially Always for Eternity), so I am quite fond of him and don't mind using him for my "personal gain" (read as: emotional abuse, personal slave, etc. Love Victor anyhow).

He's a lovely character, Victor, one with a wide range of backstories for me to use. However, he is a soldier first and foremost in all of my stories, and in my friend's stories as well. So, this is how he's portrayed most often. War, soldiers, etc. - these are things that I can draw out this particular character.

Smile, We're Friends of Death -- an original work by Julie Lynn Thorpe (C) 2016

     The new boots were nervous as they stared at the veterans who wore smiles and laughed, never mind the fact that a war was happening just outside of the perimeter of tents and vehicles. One even took to frowning as she stared at a few of the older men who were laughing particularly hard at a joke someone had said.
     “Why are they laughing?” She hissed as she glared at them. “Don’t they know there’s a war going on outside?”
     Victor rolled his eyes as he stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder to prevent the inevitable movement forward. He raised an eyebrow as she turned that crystal blue glare on him, but he smirked anyway. She could be intimidating, in her own way, but it wouldn’t do any good out here.
     “Take it easy, new boots,” He raised his voice to be heard to the entire group of new cadets – Only ten? Why didn’t they send more? – “Yes, we are very well aware of the war not too far away from our only little paradise. Trust me, we’d love nothing more than to forget about it, but—.”
     Gunfire echoed from outside the thin walls and for a moment, the whole battalion tensed, waiting to be called into action. When it ceased, a collective inaudible sigh filled the room before the laughter and general merriment resumed.
     “But that’s life, kiddos.” Victor shrugged, motioning the new recruits to follow him through the maze of tents and temporary buildings.
     This wasn’t an assigned job, leading them around and instructing them on where everything was, but it made it easier. Things ran here extremely well and the sooner the new boots understood as much as they could, the better off everyone would be.
     The last place on their “tour” was the infirmary, the one place everyone tended to avoid if they could, even the doctors. He paused a few feet inside the door as the small group gathered around. The frowns they’d lost as they’d wandered returned and a few even looked a bit green. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
     “You’ve seen how we act during our down time,” Victor’s voice was soft, almost gentle now. “How we laugh and play and pretend that the war is something that doesn’t exist beyond the four walls of our shelter.
     “I don’t know what anyone’s told you about going to war with a smile. Yes, it’s a gruesome, bloody, horrible place to be where everyone you loves dies or goes home broken in more ways than you can count.”
     Haunted looks stared back at him and a few of the new boots paled. Feet shuffled and a young man whimpered. Victor turned his gaze to the blue-eyed recruit and smirked humorlessly.
     “We got to war with a smile on our faces because we are friends of Death himself. We do the work that he cannot and in return, we are rewarded with moments of peace where we can laugh and pretend nothing is wrong.
     “We are nothing but the reapers of this world, new boots, smile while you can.”
     He dismissed them and most scurried away, out of the infirmary, possibly off to find their own bolt holes within the compound. Only the woman who’d been angry before now stood before him.
     “How can you still smile even knowing that you’re nothing more than a pawn for Death?” Her voice mirrored his, though he couldn’t be sure if was on purpose. She did seem far more frightened than angry, and at this point, it was to be expected.
     “Because I’m still breathing, recruit. Because one day, Death will come for me too and I, personally, will welcome him with open arms.” Victor chuckled, patting her shoulder. “Best learn to love him, kid. Sometimes, he’s the only friend you’ll get in a place like this.”
     He left her standing there, wandering off to his own bed. She’d understand in time, they all would. Victor chuckled as he shook his head.
     “Much more than a friend you are, Death, old buddy,” he sighed, flopping on his bed with a sigh. “Friend, teacher, lover… They’ll understand one day.”

I'm a sucker for comments and critics. Let me know what you think down in the comment section below! Thank you for reading!

(If you find you have a desire to share this elsewhere, PLEASE PLEASE let me know first. I have shared it in a couple of places, so I know it's out there already, but for the love of all that is holy, ASK ME to share this. I'll probably give it the okay, but I'd like to know where you're sharing it and if you're going to give me proper credit for it. It is my work after all. Thanks! :3 )

Monday, August 22, 2016

Blood

This week's story is less "story" and more "personal experience." Bit of backstory on this one first.

I live in a small town of less than 200. Which means we don't have trash pick-up, meaning we have to haul our own trash. Which is cool. Wednesdays and Saturdays, for three hours each day. Times change with the season, early in winter, later in summer. Easy stuff.

July 23 - A Saturday, meaning trash day - I woke up a bit late and was in a mild hurry to fetch all the trash in the house. I was wearing a pair of flats as I attempted to race through my yard and toss the stuff in the bed of the truck. We have an abundance of sticks in our yard, thanks to the crazy weather we've had off and on for a few months and the large pecan tree. I miscalculated my step and trapped a stick between the top of my right foot and the ground.

I literally attempted to impale a stick on my foot. I chunked the trash in the bed of the pickup and hobbled inside, bleeding all the while. Attempted to wake my darlin' husband (who had just gotten off a 10+ hour night shift from work), but that didn't work. He sat up, stared at my foot -"Oh my god, you're bleeding!" "I'm fine, just, I need you to take out the trash"-, I shouted at him, hobbled my way to the bathroom (dripping blood all over my house), and tried to not only wash off all the blood but not pass out while doing so (which was hard to do, just saying). (Oh, since he wasn't fully coherent when I 'woke' him, he wound up not doing anything other than falling asleep again. He felt bad about it later, so I forgive him.)

Spent several days with my foot wrapped up, trying not to bleed any more, and attempting to sleep.
For those who don't know, I have... The best way to describe it is "hemophobia", the fear of blood, but that's not quite strong enough to describe what I feel. So, I spent nearly a week attempting to see something other than blood cloud my dreams or even in the darkness that lay behind my closed lids.
I spent an entire night on the couch with the lights on and watching "Phineas and Ferb" so that I could get some sleep. After that, I took to listening to music.

It was suggested that I write down something, as I am a "writer", to help alleviate some of my nightmares and what-not. That's how I came up with this little blurb. And it actually helped. So, have a product of my nightmares and my accidental idiocy.

Blood - An original story by Julie Lynn Thorpe (C) 2016

     The color is not red so much as crimson. And yet, that is still not quite the right hue.
     Nearly everyone has seen it at some point or another, the color of life, the color of death.
     Ruby. Garnet. Cherry. Scarlet.
     All the same color, but not quite.
     Gather enough of it and it’s more of a wine or perhaps a good merlot. Sangria’s even a good choice.
     It is the color that I see when I close my eyes and attempt sleep. It is the color that haunts my dreams and rare waking moments, reminding me of something I’d rather not recall.
     Jam is a fun term and blush is far too light. Brick is the wrong hue and apples come in too many shades.
     Shock filled my vision, filling it near the color of clouds before a storm. This darkness threatened to take me away and make forget.
     It is not rose, not quite candy-colored. It is not the lipstick worn when feeling particularly empowered and sexy.
     Not when it runs down your foot, between your toes, and onto gravel, onto hardwood, into carpet.
     I could turn my pecan, caramel, cinnamon floors into a beautiful mahogany, but I’d rather not collect so much.
     A beautiful color, really, if it came from another source: a gem, a flower. The color as the sun sets behind the horizon. But it’s not.
     I can taste the pain: golden fire, biting chartreuse, bitter ash.
     They make my stomach roll and my eyes water. I cannot stand for fear of falling over.
     Currant is most likely closest, though berry is not far off.
     The color is all of this and more.

     I suppose the color I am looking for is simply called blood.


Figured it was a bit more fun with a visual. Those are all of the colors listed above in the story. Thanks for reading.


I'm a sucker for comments and critics. Let me know what you think down in the comment section below! Thank you for reading!

(If you find you have a desire to share this elsewhere, PLEASE PLEASE let me know first. I have shared it in a couple of places, so I know it's out there already, but for the love of all that is holy, ASK ME to share this. I'll probably give it the okay, but I'd like to know where you're sharing it and if you're going to give me proper credit for it. It is my work after all. Thanks! :3 )