The Midnight Court

I have been struggling with this story for days now.  I liked it, but was then told that my portrayal of Larry wasn't real enough.  So with a lot of hair pulling I reworked. Constructive criticism is always welcomed.

The Midnight Court

 

Melissa blinked back the tears that blurred her vision as she used her shirtsleeve to wipe her face.  Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm down.  It was over and done with.  

Sitting on the edge of the pig pen, she exhaled and looked up toward the cloudless sky.  The sun felt warm on her face and the breeze relaxing, as it blew across her skin. Facing the pen, she took a deep breath and wrinkled her nose from the smell.

Holding a bright red apple out toward her pig, she smiled.  He timidly walked toward her and sniffed the apple.  When he was close enough she reached out and rubbed the spot between his ears. “Who’s my good boy?”  

Squealing, he ran away from her and hid in the corner of his stall. “Don’t be that way.  I am sorry, truly I am, but I did what I had to do.”    Looking at him she felt a ping of guilt, but quickly pushed it aside.   Swallowing back more tears, she thought back to that night.  She sung happily in the kitchen while she prepared dinner.  They were on a tight budget and she had spent too much money, but it was a celebration.  She had good news, news that would make everything right between them once more.

The front door slammed shut and the sound of keys being thrown across the room told her that her husband, Larry, hadn’t had a good day and when he saw the steaks on the kitchen table she could see the muscles in his jaw tighten.

He sat down and pulled his plate to him. “You bought New York Strip?”

“Yes, I know it’s expensive, but I have good news and wanted to celebrate.”

“The next words out of your mouth had better be that we won the lottery or better yet, that rich, stingy bitch you call a mother died and left us everything.”

“Even better.” Melissa beamed, ignoring the comment about her mother.  “I’m pregnant.”

“You’re what?  Melissa watched his fist clinch and unclench on the table.  Her smile disappeared and her voice shook as she said, “I thought you would be happy.

Pushing away from the table he yelled, “Happy! You thought I would be happy.”

Melissa rose from the table and took a step back.

“Jesus H. Christ!  We can barely feed ourselves and you get pregnant.  What the hell were you thinking?” 

 He stalked toward her and she backed up until she hit a wall. “It will be all right.  I will look for another job, one that makes more.”

He was standing so close to her now that she could smell the stench of stale sweat, cigarettes and alcohol that clung to him.  Laughing he wrapped a hand lightly around her throat, pinning her in place. “Who the hell do you think is going to hire you?  Not only are you stupid, but you’re knocked up.” 

 “Please don’t hurt me… don’t hurt our baby.” Releasing her he walked back to the table, placed both of his hands on top of it and hung his head.  Cautiously, Melissa walked toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “We will figure something out…I can ask mom…” before she could finish her sentence, he shoved the table, sending the food and dishes crashing against the wall.

Realizing her mistake, Melissa turned to run, but he grabbed her and shoved her into a wall.  “Your mother?  I know she thinks I’m not good enough for you. I see the way she looks at me, like I’m nothing but dirt beneath her feet and yet you want me to beg her for money.”

She watched as he walked toward her and his arm went back.  She felt the pain as his fist connected with her cheek and the sharp crack of her head hitting the corner before she blacked out.

 The sound of the front door closing brought Melisa to and caused her to quickly sit up.  She strained to hear who was coming toward her as she swallowed down the vomit rising in her throat.

 “Melissa,” her mother called out.  “Where are you?” 

“Mom?” She called out as she relaxed. 

When her mother walked into the room, the smile vanished from her face.  Sinking down to the floor next to her and gingerly stroked her daughter’s bruised face. “Oh baby, what has he done to you?”

Bursting into tears Melissa clung to her mom. “I thought the baby would make him stop but…” her body shook as she sobbed in her mother’s arms.

Her mother pulled away from her and used her thumb to softly brush away her daughter’s tears. “It’s okay.” She cooed. “His abuse is over; it’s past time that we deal with this abuser.” 

***

Larry sat at a bar with his hand wrapped around a mug of beer.  The coldness of the glass felt good on his bruised hand and cracked knuckles.  Steve sat down in the stool next to him, “Man, what did you do to your hand?” 

He looked down at his hand and shrugged.  “Dad always told me never to hit a woman with a closed fist.  I always thought it was for their benefit, but I guess not.” 

Steve snorted in laughter.  “Oh man, what did she do this time?” 

Ignoring Steve’s question, he got up and headed home. He had had a rough day at work and didn’t feel like talking.

Sitting in his truck he looked at his hand again he shook his head.  His grip on the steering wheel tightened and he grimaced when one of the cuts on his knuckles opened up.  

Reaching into the brown paper bag sitting on passenger seat he pulled out a beer.  Popping the top, he took a long swallow before shoving the keys into the ignition and heading home.

Pulling up to their small house, he looked at the dark windows.  He threw open the front door and stormed through the house, “Melissa!”  

 His search ended in the bedroom.  Looking around his eyes landed on a picture of his wife and mother-in-law. Picking up the picture he glared at it, “I bet that’s where you are. That’s all right, actually it’s perfect.  It’s time I showed your mother I’m not something she can look down her nose at.” He threw the picture against the wall and grinned as the glass shattered.  Taking another long pull from the beer in his hand he made sure stepped on the picture as he walked out of the room.

Standing in front of his mother-in-law’s house, he took another pull from his beer before raising his hand to bang on the door.  Before he could knock, the door was opened by beautiful woman.  In a voice of pure velvet she purred, “We have been expecting you.”   He stared at her stupidly, trying to remember what he was there for.

 When she turned away from him, his head cleared and thoughts of his wife and what he was doing here returned.  He pushed past the woman who had opened the door and stormed into the house yelling his wife’s name. Stomping his way into the living room he came to halt. Dozens of woman wearing hooded black robes stood around a dais staring at him.

Sitting on a gold throne atop the dais was a woman flanked by men in loin clothes.  This woman was even more beautiful than the one who opened the door.  Rising from her throne, she walked toward the edge of the dais, wearing nothing but a sheer golden rob.  Her long red hair flowed over her shoulders in soft waves, covering her almost naked form. Parting her perfectly painted lips, her honeyed voice wrapped around him, pulling him closer, “Is this him?”

“Yes.”  The voice of his wife brought him out of his daze and he looked around until his eyes locked on her.

 “There you are.”  He made his voice low and menacing.  He stepped forward and reached out to grab her, but was stopped by two men in loin clothes.

The woman on the dais spoke again, pulling his attention away from his wayward wife, “Enough! You will have respect for me, this court and all of the woman here.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“Silence!” The woman shouted.  He opened his mouth to tell the bitch off, but found that nothing would come out.  In a calm voice she continued, “I am the Goddess Auril.  Your wife has come to my Midnight Court and filed charges of abuse against you, charges in which you have been tried and found guilty of. “

Still unable to speak, he glared at her. “Yes, I can see that you don’t agree with me, but” her laugh echoed though the room, “it doesn’t matter what you think.  You sealed your fate when you began beating your wife.”  Gracefully, she sank down on her throne and tapped a well-manicured nail on its arm.  “What to do with you.  Perhaps I will turn you into a eunuch,” she waved a hand toward the men in loin cloths, “and allow you to serve as one of my slaves. 

He clinched his jaw and balled his hands into fist as he looked around for an escape.

 “No?  Not a eunuch, oh well,” she shrugged her shoulders, “only one thing to do then.  You shall live out the rest of your life at the mercy of your wife, just as she has had to live hers at the mercy of yours.  However, you will be trapped in a form that tells everyone who sees you exactly what you are.  From now on Larry, you shall be a pig.”

A sharp pain in his ankle caused him to scream out in agony.  Falling to his knees, he looked down and saw his foot had begun to twist and transform into the foot of a pig.  He looked up at the woman wide eyed and opened his mouth to beg when he felt a stabbing pain in his jaw.  Reaching up, he touched his face only to feel that his jaw had begun to shift and elongate.  His back bowed, sending him down to all fours and his long continuous scream turned into the shrill sound of a squealing pig.

“Oh, Larry, I told you I’m sorry.  I really never meant for this to happen, but you left me no choice.  Look, I built this wonderful pen for you to apologize.” She waved a red apple in front of him, “I even brought you fresh fruit.” 

He looked up at the woman sitting on the railing.  He knew her…didn’t he?  He watched her bite into the…the…I knew what it was just a few minutes ago.  He shook his head and looked around.  He felt a moment of panic when he remembered what had happened, but then everything started to fade away.  He was a pig now…and this truly was a wonderful pen.

National Novel Writing Month

When I signed up to do this crazy thing called National Novel Writing Month I had no idea how truly crazy it was.  After all 50,000 words in a month is quite a bit.  I only have a short time left and i'm seriously doubting if  I will finish or not, especially if these stupid headaches, almost daily headaches don't stop.  If I finished it or not, I have learned quite a bit about writing and that my biggest obstacle is my obsessive need to constantly revise. 
I thought I would share with anyone out there listening the first chapter in my novel.  I welcome any and all feedback.

“All of my books have always been so pleasant,” Elsie shook her head and looked down at the handkerchief she was wringing in her chubby hands.

Despite the fact that Elsie is a well-known drama witch, I could tell something was truly upsetting her. We were standing outside of her French Quarter book store, “Elsie’s Enchanted Tomes”. I could feel myself melting in the midday sun as it beat down upon us. She had refused to go inside to show me what was going on. That’s how I knew something was wrong. Elsie loved her creature comforts and to be outside in July was not comfortable in the least. It had rained only hours before and the mugginess hung like a curtain draping itself around the city. My thin cotton shirt was plastered to my body and the air was so thick I could feel it as I sucked it into my lungs. Elsie had to me miserable stuffed into what appeared to be a girdle two sizes too small. Her hair which was always so perfect was clumping together around her face in damp lifeless strings, the makeup she so expertly and was melting off her face as we spoke.

Still strangling her handkerchief, she looked back up at me, fat tears dancing on her lashes. “You have to do something.”

Trying to comfort her, I placed hand on her shoulder and asked, “What exactly has the book done?”

“As I said, I occasionally have enchanted books show on my shelves, but they have all been pleasant. They have breeding and manners. That…that…that…thing in there is a rude, foul-mouthed…thing.” Fighting back a sob, she closed her eyes and brought her hand up to her mouth. Shaking her head she continued, “He has ruined my shop, knocking down shelves calling me vile names that I have never heard before and dare not repeat. He chased Mrs. Englebert around the shop humming the wicked witch of the west theme song until she ran out the door in tears. You know how she feels about her skin after that unfortunate spell backfiring a few years back. No matter what we have tried; that green hue will not go away. She’s very sensitive about it. I will not have him in my shop a moment longer insulting me and my customers. I don’t care what you have to do; get him out of my shop and away from me.”

I knew how terrible upset Mrs. Englebert had been. Every witch in the New Orleans Coven had tried to reverse the effects of that terrible spell.

She pressed her face up against the large picture window that made up the storefront of her bookstore and jabbed a sausage-like finger at the glass.

“He’s right there, in the bookshelf between the two that have fallen in the middle.” She turned to me, making sure I was looking. “You can’t miss the nasty foul mouthed thing. Last time I saw him he, was laying on a shelf blowing raspberries at me and telling me that I needed to lay off the beans.”

Biting my lip to keep from laughing, I pushed my face against the glass next to hers and peered between the antique gold lettering on the window.

Giving her a smile that I hoped was reassuring I said, “Don’t worry Elsie, I’ll get him out of your shop.” I had no idea how I was going to do this. I had never done a successful exorcism before. That was my sister’s specialty. I was good with the plants and herbs. When my sister told me to head over here I was thinking Elsie just needed help with a plant or perhaps a potion. Surely Sybil misunderstood Elsie on the phone.

Pushing open the door, I took a deep breath. What the hell are you doing, just turn around, and tell Elsie that Sybil would be better for this. Turning back around I see Elsie looking at me pleadingly as if all of her hope hung on my ability to take care of this.

“Crap,” I muttered under my breath as I walked in.

A frigid blast of air hit me as I crossed over the threshold.  The sweat that had caused my t-shirt to stick to my body felt as if it had turned to ice causing me to shiver.  Stepping over one of the fallen bookcases, I looked around.  The tiny shop was crammed full of shelves, all different heights, shapes and colors. Dust motes danced in the beam of sunlight steaming in through the window that hit the polished copper cash register causing it to glimmer in its rays. 

The floating chandelier was now hovering over my head.  Walking deeper into the shop stepping over fallen bookshelves, across squeaky floor boards and dusty surfaces, I inhaled the wonderful old smell of old books and leather.  I had always loved that smell.  It smelled of memories, old friends and comfort.

A creaking sound pulled me from my musings. I crept as quietly as I could toward the noise. Standing in front of the bookshelf, I squinted at the tomes trying to discover which one was the culprit.  A small movement attracted my eye to the center of the shelf.  I blinked and found myself staring eye to eye with a book.  It was a thick volume, lying on its side, the words on the cover written in a language I didn’t know.  Two frog- like eyes staring back at me were situated just above the opening of the book.

Clearing my throat I widened my stance and announced, “You are going to have to leave this shop and return to where ever it was you came from.”

The book liked at me for a moment then said, “No.”

Trying to act as if I was confident in my abilities I said, “If you don’t leave willingly, I will be forced to exorcise you.” 

The book opened and closed as it talked, pages flapping wildly, “You and what army, bitch?”

Placing my hands on my hips, I cocked my hip to the side and glared at the book, “Elsie was right, you are rude.”

“Elsie?”  The book roared “The fat cows name is Elsie? Oh that’s priceless”

“Fine, you leave me no choice.”

As I bent over to reach into my bag, the book lets out a wolf whistle and in a bad Barry White impression says, “Baby, we might just be able to work something out.”

I spun around and glared at him.  His eyes were locked onto the space where my ass was.  Dragging his eyes upward he wiggled his eyebrows at me. Elsie was right.  The book wasn’t only foul, it was perverted

                “What’s your name?”

“Oh no, no, no, you can’t get me with that trick.  Names have power. But you’re right; I don’t want to go through an exorcism.  I have an idea.”

The edge of the books mouth curled up giving the illusion it was smiling, it wasn’t a nice smile.

“Take me home with you.”

“What?  No absolutely not.”  Reaching back into my bag I start pulling out my exorcism gear.

“Oh Morgan, you and I both know that you have to wait until midnight to do that anyway.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Oh, I know a lot of things about you, Morgan.” Another smile spread across his pages. 

We stared at each other for a moment before he continued on.  “Since you can’t exorcise me until midnight anyway, take me home with you.  It will make the fat cow happy, make you look good, and I’m about ready to get out of here anyway.  She’s starting to be a drag and all of her customers stopped coming yesterday.  Oh, and I will tell you how I know who you are and all the other things I know about you.”

Looking back at the window I saw Elsie’s face pressed up against the glass looking hopeful. I didn’t want to disappoint her.  I wanted to be the one who took care of things for a change.  Someone besides a glorified gardener. Taking a deep breath and knowing that I’m going to probably regret this decision later I look at the book and said, “Okay, but first give me something.  Tell me something you know about me.”

A smug smile spread across its pages, “I know your father.”

“So, my father is a very prominent professor at a local university.”

“No, I know who your real father is.”

I felt my stomach drop.  My legitimacy had been whispered about ever since I grew a headful of hair that was as dark as the rest of my family’s was fair.  When I would cry into Adelaide’s, my nanny, shoulder about the nasty things I heard, she would always tell me not to listen to gossip.  That gossips where just mea, nasty people who had nothing better to do than to spread manure. 

Taking a deep breath, I swallowed back my tears and reached out to grab the book, “You’re not going to bite me are you?”

“That depends…do you want me to bite you?” 

I quickly grabbed the book, shoved him into my bag and headed toward the front door.  I could hear a faint mumbling sound coming from the bag, but I ignored it as I pushed open the door and walked back into the sweltering heat. 

Elsie looked at me with relief, “You got him didn’t you, please tell me he’s out of the book, out of my shop.”

“Well, he is out of your shop.”

“Elsie’s eyebrows knitted together, “What aren’t you saying?”

“He refused to leave the book, I can’t perform an exorcism until midnight and if I did, I can’t guarantee what he would do to your shop.  He is a very powerful spirit and I think he has just been playing with you right now.  If he wanted to I’m sure he could do a lot more damage than he has done so far.  So I talked him into coming with me.”  I opened my bag and Elsie peered inside.

Raspberry “Wow I told the cow she should lay off the…”  

Elsie cut him off, “Yes, yes, yes.  Take the book.  I don’t care I actually never remember seeing it before and…just please get that thing away from me.  My nerves can’t handle one more minute of him.”  She shooed me away from the door. “Give your mother my best dear.”

Before I could even blink, she was on the other side of the door and the door firmly shut behind her. 

 

Witchcraft, voodoo, hoodoo and vampires are all things that the people of New Orleans are open to.  There are stores here that you can purchase voodoo dolls, spell books, spells, get your fortune told and countless other witchy things.  They even have a vampire tour that have hundreds of people a day lining up to shell out their hard earned money to go. 

But, what would all of the citizens and tourist think of New Orleans if they knew the truth?  If they knew that witches and witchcraft was alive and well in their city.  Would they be as accepting then?  It’s a question the true witches of New Orleans have wondered countless times, but have never been sure enough to come out of the preverbal broom closet. 

Our community exists right next to yours.  We have our own stores, cafe’s and gathering places.  Yes, some witches will cater to both humans and witches, but for the majority of us we like to keep out businesses separated.   Walking down the street a mortal would never know where one of our hidden shops where.  Only those with the blood can see them.  We have many ways of disguising our hidden city.  Some like to make their shops appear vacant, others make them look dangerous and if a mortal tried to go in, they would suddenly get a bad feeling and leave.  My favorite method and the one my family’s shop uses is we make the entrance impossible to find. 

My family’s shop, The Copper Cauldron sells a mixture of things: herbs, athems, book of shadows, alters and cauldrons to name a few.  I had recently moved out of my parents’ house and was living in the small apartment above the store.

“Crap.” I said as I looked at my watch.  I am running late for dinner.  Even though I had moved out, mother still insisted that I come daily for dinner.  My mother did not like to be kept waiting, but I couldn’t take the book with me and after seeing what it did to Elsie’s shop I was not leaving it in my car. 

Reaching my car, I tossed my bag into the passenger seat and quickly followed it in. 

Turning up the air conditioning to full blast I dug the book out of my bag. I pointed my car in the direction of my apartment and asked,

“Ok, who’s my father?”

A smile spreads across his pages, “A demon, of course.”

The Gypsy Curse

Running for her life Emma pushed tree limbs out of her way.  The boys were right behind her.

          “Come back here you thieving little gypsy whore!”  

Tripping on a tree root she fell skinning her hands and knees.  Ignoring the sting she scrambled to her feet, but one of the boys caught her ankle and drug her back to the ground.   Screaming for help she struggled against him.

 “Wake up Emma, you’re having a nightmare.”

Emma’s eyes flew open and found herself in her sleeping bag covered with sweat; her friends staring at her.

“That must have been some nightmare,” said Olivia.

 “It was so real,” she panted, “these boys were chasing me through the woods.  They were going to kill me. That’s the last time I let you guys talk me into telling ghost stories.”

                “It wasn’t that scary,” said Chloe.

                “I’ll never be able to look at another china doll as long as I live,” proclaimed  Emma. 

                “Me either.  Dolls creep me out to begin with; just the thought of one being possessed by an evil spirit gives me the heebie—jeebies,” Sophia said with a shutter running through her body.

“Emma!” her mother’s voice echoed through the house.

 “Breakfast is ready!”

Walking through the house the smell of bacon and eggs hit Emma making her stomach growl. Heading toward the kitchen she sees her Aunt Rose sitting at the kitchen table warming her hands around a cup of coffee.

“Emma,” she beamed at her. “Come see your Aunt Rose.” Holding up a medium sized box wrapped in shiny pink and silver paper with a huge pink bow tied in the center.  “I know your birthday isn’t till next week, but I saw this and felt compelled to buy it for you.”  Before handing Emma the present she engulfed her in a big hug, the overly sweet scent of Aunt Rose’s perfume forced her to swallow hard to keep from gagging. 

Emma began ripping the paper off the gift as her friends gathered around her.  Suppressing a scream she nervously showed the girls her gift; a china doll. 

“Oh look how beautiful,” her mother exclaimed. 

Looking down at the gypsy china doll the taunts of the boys in her dream echo through her head.  An elbow to the shoulder jolted her out of her thoughts as her mother prodded her to thank her Aunt for the gift. 

“Aunt Rose, it’s just so beautiful and unexpected I don’t know what to say.”

“I had this irresistible urge to go into this old antique store.  I walked straight to her.  It was the weirdest thing, almost like she was calling to me.”

“Well,” Emma’s mother said, “I know the perfect place to put her.  On your night stand by your bed.  She will look beautiful there.”

***

Climbing into bed that night Emma stared at the doll.  There was no way she was going to be able to sleep with that doll there.  Every time she closed her eyes she could almost feel it staring at her, just waiting for her to sleep so it could pounce on her.    

Ok this is ridiculous. I am not 5 years old.  I was just a stupid story.  Dolls do not come to life.  Dolls do not kill people in their sleep.

Rolling over Emma pulled the covers up over her shoulders and closed her eyes determined to fall asleep.  

The noise was soft; scratching.  Holding her breath, Emma listened.  This time it was louder, closer.  The feeling of something hovering over her sent chills down her spine and when she felt the warm breath on her cheek she screamed.

“Jesus Emma.” Her mother exclaimed, holding her hand over her heart.  “You scared me half to death.”

“Sorry Mom.  You scared me.”

“Well I think you just took a few years off my life.” Her mother leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Sweet dreams.” She muttered as she closed the door behind her.

Emma sat in bed staring at the doll.   I’m just going to put it in the closet. Grabbing the doll she dropped It on the floor, stared at it a moment, opened the trunk in the back of her closet and crammed it in. Better safe than sorry, she muttered to herself as she climbed back into bed.

***

Running for her life Emma pushed tree limbs out of her way.  The boys were right behind her.

“Come back here you thieving little gypsy whore!” 

Tripping on a tree root she fell skinning her hands and knees.  Ignoring the stinging pain she scrambled to her feet, but one of the boys caught her ankle and drug her back to the ground.   Screaming for help she struggled against him.

Straddling her waist, one of the boys pinned her to the ground.  The dampness of the earth and leaves soaked through her clothing as she struggled, searching for anything that might free her.  Coming across a rock she palmed it and brought it up toward the boys head, smashing it against his ear.  He fell backward but was quickly replaced by another boy.

  “I think this little gypsy bitch needs to be taught a lesson.”  Leering at her he began to raise up her skirt. 

Bucking him off, she struggled to her knees, but was pulled backward.  Her fingers clawed at the earth trying to get away.  The first fist to the face caused stars to burst behind her eyes.  After the fifth her body went numb and she stopped counting.  Ascending into blackness she stopped struggling, stopped feeling the cold and stopped caring.

 Peace surrounded her as she heard a familiar voice yelling.  Her head was cradled in someone’s lap as words of comfort where whispered to her in a language she did not understand while another voice boomed in the distance. 

“You did this to my granddaughter.  You with your hate. You with your prejudice.  You believe that nothing can touch you.  But you will be touched. For this act you will suffer.  A gift will come to the first daughter in each of your generations. Through this gift they will suffer just as my beautiful granddaughter suffered.  They will die knowing what you did to my granddaughter.  They will die knowing that you caused her death.  They will die knowing that you caused their death.”

 Opening her eyes, for the last time, Emma looked up to find the doll on her dresser; as the last breath left her body, a grin spread across its face.

 

Short Story

Let me start off by saying...I hate word limits. I can see why we have them.  If every student turned in a 4000 word paper the professor wouldn't have time to read them all.  That being said, I hate word limits.  I feel that I an unable to give all the information needed and that I have to sacrifice description in order to tell my story.  I know there are ways to work description into dialogue and I try my best to do this, but it doesn't work all the time.  Now that everyone knows just how I feel about word limits, this is a short story based off a novel I'm working on. 

Seraphina Kane

Mr. Harper stood in front of the classroom droning on about some battle fought centuries ago; his monotone words lolling everyone within earshot to sleep.  Sounds of fidgeting students spoke volumes on his inability to hold anyone’s attention.  The fact that it was the last class before the weekend only added to restlessness filtering through the students.   Propping up my chin on my hand I try desperately to keep my eyes from glazing over.   

Glancing at the clock I sighed, 10 more minutes.  A note from Mia, my best…well my only friend lands on my desk.”  Ashton’s staring at you.  Again!”

 Ever since Ashton, the newest and hottest arrival at Douglas High School, arrived two months ago Mia has been alerting me to his constant staring. He had longer than average brown hair and the bluest eyes I had ever seen.  Those eyes seemed to hypnotize me; rendering me mute the entire time I was caught in their gaze.

            Mia constantly told me that he was looking at me; however I never seemed to catch him.   He, of course, always caught me and would lift one eyebrow as if ask, “What?”

 Because of this I knew what to expect when I turned around, but did it anyway. As soon as I looked at him he raised his head, looked me straight in the eye, lifted that one eyebrow and mouthed the word,

“What?”

I wanted to kill Mia; however my thoughts of murder were quickly interrupted by Mr. Harper.

“Miss Kane, if you are finished staring at Mr. Collins would you be so kind as to answer my question?”

Heat climbing up my neck as the class began to snicker.  Wishing the bell would ring, it did just that.    Mr. Harper looked at the clock,  it shouldn’t have rung for another 10 minutes, scratched his head and mumbled something about teenagers and hormones before sitting down at his desk. 

Wishing myself invisible I made my way to my locker, Mia was standing there tapping her foot looking intently down the hallway, ignoring me. 

“Mia, you have to stop.” 

Jumping as if I surprised her she blinked, “Stop what?”

“Telling me that Ashton is staring at me when he isn’t. I have never been so embarrassed in my life.”

“Oh, that.”  She waved her hand in the air as if it was nothing.  “Forget about that.  I have some excellent news.” Mia’s excellent news always scared me, plotting to make me popular was like a hobby for her. 

My dad died when I was a baby, so it was just me and my mom. I use to ask her about my father, but she would always change the subject, I guess it was too hard for her. We moved around so much that I never had time to make friends.  I never really tried to make friends, because I knew we would just move anyway and mom seemed to get testy if I mentioned having one, so Mia was an oddity.

Long ago I realized I was forgettable:  brown hair, brown eyes, average height and weight. Occasionally even my own mother would walk into a room and not notice me.  I was fine going unnoticed.  In fact I was used to it. 

Nudging me, Mia nodded her head across the hall.  Turning, I notice Ashton standing by his locker.  I really wished he was staring at me, wished he was interested in me.  He glanced up, our eyes locked; a glazed expression went across his face before he blinked, shook his head and gave me an odd look.

 “OMG…you saw that, you have to have seen that!” Mia squealed. 

“OK, back to my news.  I got us an invitation to Julie Crowley’s party this weekend.”

 I winced as her voice went up at least two octaves, surely every dog in the area ears where perked at attention.

  “You do know what this means right?  Make-over!”

  With what was surely a look of dread upon my face I glared at her.

 In a sing song voice she said, “Ashton’s gonna be there.”

 I reluctantly agreed. 

Wearing Mia’s clothes, staring in her bedroom mirror I decided I looked like a hooker.   It wasn’t as if any of this was going to land me a date with Ashton.  He hadn’t looked twice at any girl in the school, why would he start with me. 

Mia looked over my shoulder as I tugged on the hem of the skirt, wishing it was just a few inches longer.  Mia blinked, tilted her head to the side, “Hmm that skirt is shorter on me.”  A smile spread across her face, “You look hot.”

“No, I don’t.”

“See Sera, that’s your problem.  If you think you look hot, act like you are hot, then you will be hot.  Hotness is nothing but a state of mind.

 Standing at Julie’s front door Mia looked at me, smiled and whispered, “Act hot.” Pushing open the door, she walked in.  Taking a deep breath, I walked in.   Ashton was standing away from everyone he looked at me then purposely began walking toward me. 

I’m hot.  Played like a mantra in my head.  Before either of us could say anything the party erupted in screams as two a creatures entered the room.  They had to be over 7 feet tall, with leathery black skin, wings and bright red eyes that glowed.  Looking around the room they sniffed the air.  Their gaze landed on Mia, “Her.” Mia screamed.

 I yelled her name and the creatures looked at me. An evil grin spread across their face reviling a mouthful of sharp teeth.  “No, she’s the one.” Ashton let out a curse, grabbed my arm and ran. 

As we bolted across the street my mother runs out of the house yelling my name. One of the creatures grabbed her from behind and twist her head completely around.  Screaming, I lunge toward her.  Ashton threw me over his shoulder and ran into the woods.  Looking up from my mother’s crumbled body her killer smiles and begins flying toward us. 

“What are those things!”

“Unseelie.”

A swirling mass of light in the trees yanked my focus off what an Unseelie was, but before I could ask we ran through it.  My insides twisted as if I was on a downward spiral of a roller coaster and I closed my eyes to keep from being sick.

Hearing a gasp I open my eyes finding myself in the middle of what appears to be the same woods, but we were alone. 

“Put me down!”

“I’m sure you have questions.  You were not supposed to find out this way.”

“Find out what?  What were those things what did they want?”

“They were Unseelie scouts and they wanted you.” He held up his hand to stop my next question and continued.  You are a fairy Seraphina Cane, a Seelie Princess.

“A fairy, right…umm not sure how you arranged that scene back there but…”  My mouth kept moving, but nothing came out.

 Smiling at me he continued.  “Haven’t you ever just wished for something and it happened?” 

Still unable to speak, I nodded my head. 

You were kidnapped as a babe. Your father King Donovan has been looking for you ever since.

 Testing my voice, “Who was the woman who has been raising me?” 

“She was a witch who thought having you would bring her good luck. Her spells hid your magic from us, making it difficult to find you.”

“I have a father?”

“Yes, would you like to see him now?”

“More than anything.”

 

 

 

That First Scene

I know, it has been too long since I have posted anything. Life has been a bit hectic. I just finished taking Modern Art and as much as I enjoy art, the class stretched me at times. Now I am in the middle of moving approximatly 530 miles away to the middle of nowhere. So much of a nowhere that I'm begning to wonder just how I'm going to get internet access easily enough to keep up with my new class. It's a fiction writing workshop and I have been looking forward to it for awhile. One of the first assingments was to create three opening scence.

I know how important that first scene can be. Many times I have based my decision to read a book based on if it had hooked be by then. Did it make me want to continue? Did I have to know what happened next? I have created three opening scenes and decided to share. Here they are, please let me know if you were hooked.

Seraphina Kane

Sera Kane’s chin was propped up on her hand as she stared at Mr. Harper droning on about some battle fought centuries ago. It’s the last class before the weekend and by listening to the sounds fidgeting in chairs you could tell that nobody was listening or cared. All they cared about was the ringing of the bell announcing their freedom.

 Sera glanced at the clock and sighed, 10 more minutes. Something hit her arm as it landed on her desk. A note from Mia, her best...well her only friend.

“Ashton is staring at you. Again!!”

This has been going on every since Ashton, the newest and hottest arrival at Douglas High School, arrived two months ago. He had the bluest eyes I had ever seen in my life. So blue that they seem to hypnotize me whenever my eyes landed on his. Leaving me completely brain dead the entire time I was caught in his gaze.

 I had never caught him staring at me. Mia was constantly telling me that he was, however anytime I turned around he was looking at something else or he would glance at me and lift one eyebrow. Because of this I knew what to expect when I turned around, but did it anyway. As soon as I looked at him he raised his head, looked me straight in the eye, those blue eyes, lifted that one eyebrow and mouthed the word,

 “What?”

I wanted to kill Mia.

 

The In Between

Standing at the waitress station talking to my friend and co-worker Linda, I watched my tables as we shared the local gossip.

Linda wanted to share a particularly juicy bit of gossip about David Jenkins, the man I was secretly seeing. His family wanted him to marry Beth Carmichael, however he planned on telling them he wasn’t going to go through with it because he loved me. He was just waiting for the right time.

“He’s getting married tomorrow, you know. Rumor is Beth’s pregnant,” Linda whispered.

Before I could fully digest this, cook yelled my name,

“Cat, your order’s up!”

I excused myself from Linda and went to the kitchen, feeling shock and disbelief. Numbly, I walked back to the waitress station and asked Linda if she was sure.

Linda ignored me and continued to stare out at the dining room. I poked her in the shoulder. Nothing. I said her name louder this time. Still no reaction. I turned toward a bus boy and asked what was wrong with her; he completely ignored me.

I frantically looked around the room. At first everything looked the same then everyone started to move in slow motion. Sounds became slightly distorted and then…everything faded away.

That was when I noticed him.

 He was sitting on the lunch counter staring right at me.  I quickly covered my mouth, suppressing a scream.  He was of average height, no more than 6 feet tall.  His skin was so pale; it could only be described as fish-belly-white.   Pointed ears stuck out of slicked back, greasy black hair; he stared at me with eyes so black they appeared soulless. 

 

Then he smiled at me, grayish dead lips spread into an evil grin and revealed two rows of sharp white teeth. Two of the teeth were longer than the others, almost like fangs, his chin was stained red in what appeared to be blood, and he had what looked like pieces of flesh stuck between his teeth.

 

The creature jumped off the counter and as he reached a hand, tipped with black fingernails filed to sharp points, toward me he began to grow.  I stared back at him, frozen in place with absolute terror. He let out a burst of maniacal laughter and said

 

“Mine.” 

 

Unable to take my eyes off him, he continued to inflate.  I started backing up until I felt my back pressed up against the cool glass of the door and pushed it open.  His laughter filled my ears and when he spoke it was as if his voice was coming from inside my head.  

 

"Mine."

Harley Frost

 

A noise coming from somewhere in my house woke me up. I lay quietly for a few minutes listening. Nobody should be in my apartment. I sit up and looked around the room. I’m in a large four- posted bed covered in silk sheets.

 

Not my apartment.

 

Where was I?

 

More importantly how did I get here?

 

 I heard the noise again; a muffled cry. I quietly walk toward the door and opened it. The hallway is pitch black. I make my way down the hallway, hugging the wall along the way. My finger- tips find the edge of a doorway, and I peered inside.

A tall man dressed all in black is standing over a woman; she is tied to the bed and gagged. She twisted violently on the bed desperately trying to escape. I tore my eyes away from the woman to look at her attacker; that’s when I noticed him looking directly at me.

 

Can he see me?

 

Did I make a noise?

 

I backed up from the door and suddenly someone grabbed me from behind. I kicked and screamed, but they held me tighter. Opening my eyes, I find myself in my own bed with James, my partner on the police force, straddling my waist with my arms pinned above my head. I blink stupidly at him and ask,

 

"What are you doing?”

 

“You must have been having some dream.”

 

“Dream?”



Seraphina Kane

As many of you know, I am currently writing my first novel.  Right now I'm working on plot and character development.  I'm just getting to know the main character.  I thought I would have her introduce herself to everyone so they can get to know a little bit about her; maybe I might even be able to learn more about her as well.  So... I'm going to hand this blog entry over to Seraphina Kane.

Umm...Hi, my name is Sera Kane.  Please, Do Not call me Seraphina.  I'm not sure what my mother was thinking when she named me that...anyway...I am suppose tell everyone a little about myself. 

I'm 16 and go to Douglas High School.  It's in a small Podunk town in the middle of nowhere.  Nothing ever happens here.  Me and my mom moved around a lot when I was younger, but we have been here for about 5 years now; the longest we have stayed anywhere.   I never knew my dad.  He was killed when someone broke into out house one night.  I was just a baby and my mom grabbed me ran away when she heard the gun shot that apparently killed him.  They never caught who did it.  It has always just been me and mom, like I said we never stayed in one spot long enough for anyone else to enter our lives; until recently. 

I have actually made a friend, my first, during the last year.  Her name is Mia, she just moved here and for some reason decided to be my friend.  It's weird, I'm not use to opening up to anyone...always been a loaner, but Mia has big plans.  Those plans include us not only becoming popular, but getting boyfriends by next year. 

Besides Mia and my mom the only other person in my life is Conner.  He is fairly new to our school...he's kind of strange and has somehow become a part of my life.  The strange thing is him and my mom have gotten close.  He started out by tutoring me in Algebra and then some how ended up at my house all the time working with my mom in her herb garden. They are always outside playing in the dirt and drying herbs. Beyond bizarre.  Mia is trying to get me to "make my move"  keeps telling me he's cute, but ...no.  He just gives me this weird feeling when I'm around him and he's always staring at me like...like he's trying to ....I don't know...dissect me like a frog in biology.  It's beyond creepy. 

There is a guy though...his name is Ashton.  He just moved here a week ago.  Tall, at least 6'2", wide shoulders, slim waist, blond hair that looks like he never really combs it, just sort of runs his fingers through.  He has this one little piece of hair that tends to curl under his ear. The bluest eyes I have ever seen.  I have never been to Hawaii, but I have seen pictures...his eyes are the exact color of the Hawaiian ocean.  I could get lost in those eyes.  Umm...well... anyway, he is way out of my league.  Mia is always telling me that he stares at me when I'm not looking, but I think she's crazy. 

Mia is trying to get me to go to a party this weekend. Not sure I want to go to the party.  Mia says that's my problem and why I remain unpopular.  She says that unless I put myself out there things will never change.  She also says that she has heard that Ashton will be there.  Not sure if that's true or if shes just trying to get me to go.

She wants to give me a complete make over...she keeps telling me I should give up my mousy brown locks and go blond.  Mom would kill me.  I did agree to go to the mall with her Friday after school though.  Maybe if I let her dress me up she'll forget about my  hair.  Yes, it is blah, but blond?? Really? Sometimes I don't know what she's thinking.  She is always telling me how beautiful I could be...maybe we can stop at the Vision Source while we are at the mall to get her a much needed pair of glasses. 

Well anyway...I'm not really sure why I was supposed to tell you about my life.  It's rather boring...not much of a life really.  A part of my kind of hopes Mia's successful with her popularity plan, but another part of me just hopes my life stays as it is.  It may not exciting, but it's mine and I'm comfortable in it.