tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63443468640201175662024-03-13T11:53:43.898-07:00My original literary creationsSome of my stories and ideas. Enjoy and share to spread the word.RC Michhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02783921567712364984noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6344346864020117566.post-71127092304291429882013-10-08T07:08:00.000-07:002014-10-05T12:25:16.787-07:00Online gaming<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Bo1jJCuEpVM/U3cCpE47ljI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D3Nu2ePnXDs/s1600/res_viewer2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Bo1jJCuEpVM/U3cCpE47ljI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D3Nu2ePnXDs/s1600/res_viewer2.png" /></a></div>My name is Anath!</div><div class="MsoNormal">Umm, no it’s not….</div><div class="MsoNormal">My name is Sirra!</div><div class="MsoNormal">That’s not it.</div><div class="MsoNormal">My name is…what was my name again? Those are the names I use in an online game. I have many friends there, including a lover. Just yesterday I was walking alongside the riverbank with him when he proposed. I was so happy that I had to use an emoticon to show it. And yesterday my friends threw a surprise party for me. Again, what happy hours those were. We danced and laughed until two days passed. I received many presents and my lover even gave me this cute little rabbit as a pet. Today we went hunting, many armors and weapons dropped, and when we sold them we made a pretty handsome profit. My bag is now full of coins. I wonder how much I can still make. I should save up for our weeding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still need to make the quest for a wedding dress and him for a tuxedo. It’s going to take some time. Maybe I can stay up all night and finish the first part.</div><div class="MsoNormal">……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..</div><div class="MsoNormal">I did it, only two more parts to go. He couldn’t finish it and although I offered to help he refused me. He told me it was something he needed to do by himself. I can’t keep my eyes open anymore…maybe it’s time I put up a shop.</div><div class="MsoNormal">………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………</div><div class="MsoNormal">He went hunting with another char. I got mad. We had a fight. When he called me to talk about this..my internet connection collapsed.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Then I return to REALITY. My dad comes in, my paper is due tomorrow, and I’m feeling hungry.</div><div class="MsoNormal">I think it’s time to search for another online game.</div><br />
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<embed base="http://external.kongregate-games.com/gamez/0012/2759/live/" height="510" src="http://external.kongregate-games.com/gamez/0012/2759/live/embeddable_122759.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="680"></embed><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Play free games at <a href="http://www.kongregate.com/">Kongregate</a></div><br />
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RC Michhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02783921567712364984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6344346864020117566.post-83950890559090969852013-08-07T13:00:00.000-07:002014-10-05T12:26:07.531-07:00100 Words Story<font;left>“Forever it will be!” He cried in a aggravatingly sharp tone. “Don’t forget my words. Now and forever they will haunt you, awake or asleep there is no escape from your sins!“<br />
Each stroke of the grandfather’s clock reminded her of those words, always causing a slight chill to run down her spine, reaching the depth of her heart. <br />
“Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock…” The sound became louder as the wretched time approached at an alarming speed leaving only memories of the past behind. <br />
“Even if it were to end like this, I will never repent for that which was necessary!”</font;left>RC Michhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02783921567712364984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6344346864020117566.post-90382101868783736622013-06-16T12:27:00.000-07:002015-01-10T09:16:59.394-08:00Life...what a joke...<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">1</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Who said life is beautiful? I don’t<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>know…What’s so wonderful about living every day…struggling more and more to fit in, drinking to forget, smoking to calm down…all this is bullshit…why should I do this? Where is the blessing of the so called God? Why is it that every day I have to think, to talk, to respond, to move, to breathe…? I hate this, it’s stupid!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t want to do it anymore…still passing to the other side is scary… I’m not that brave, and then again I’m not brave enough to keep living either… is it courage or stupidity, where does it all lead? You just live…and other will live after you…you will be forgotten soon, there’s no point even trying. Even as a famous person, how much time will people remember you? 10-20 years from now you will be just like any other person…it’s only stalling. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Why should we struggle in everyday life? Are the feelings of joy worth it? They’re only momentary, still we fight for that 1 moment with all we’ve got…people are really stupid…</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Staying in an old building, looking at my father self-destruct, pretending I’m okay, feeling pity for others, mocking others, being mocked, being felt pity for, it’s never-ending. It will only stop when I die, maybe not even then, for me at least. This sucks! Life sucks! Love? Hah, bullshit! Happiness, trust, companionship, they’re all bullshit! All that’s real are greed and meanness. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Why are we all so stubborn in believing fairytales? People are so weak, can’t live without God or hope for a better future… which is obviously not going to happen. Each man for itself, that’s the rule! The survival of the strong and the death of the weak! The so called jungle rule. It’s the same even between civilized people. Civilized, even the word seems like a joke to me. People are only animals who learned to deceive themselves and others. And so we live, each minute, each hour, each day, each month, each year, each decade, each generation… what a joke! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I want to know, is anyone truly happy? What is happiness? Is it worth all the hurt to reach that so called happiness? I don’t believe in such things… should I? I don’t think all the effort is worth it! People should be happy if they don’t realize this, but life sucks! I mean really… we only strive but really we just keep running without advancing. It’s just that our minds go numb from all the hits, and start dreaming of the so called happiness so we won’t go insane.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I find it funny and sad at the same time, when hearing about the joy of life, happiness, faith, aren’t these all excuses so we can leave on? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Yes, there is happiness, for not more than 1 minute, that’s only when we think about it, there is no happy ending in life like in fairytales. No prince charming or Cinderella, no helping godmothers or faithful partners.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone is on their own and nothing is endless. Life is short and if you actually think about it, quite unpleasant. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Still, tell me! What do you think is happiness? What does one need to do to be happy? Work hard? That shouldn’t be it, because it doesn’t matter, there is always someone better which will destroy all your hard work. Love all? Right, that will be your doom! People will trample all over your so called love. Persevere? That will only annoy people and in the end you will be bullied! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Life is not a movie, not a book, not a manga, not an anime, it’s just… LIFE! Be it worth it or not, this is a small problem, actually people are to scared of the unknown, of death to actually think about it logically. Let’s believe in God because he can save us! Right…. Is there even such a thing as God? How can you be sure? That’s it… you can’t, doesn’t it suck?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So it all connects to our need to believe in a better future.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Fuck Life! Fuck Happiness! Fuck Conciseness! It’s all fake!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Still we breathe, we live, we laugh, we ignore everything that doesn’t fit our ideals! People say life is fun, wonderful, meeting your soul mate, falling in love, bearing children, raising a new life…let’ face it, we’re just animals who can pretend really well. We’re all actors in this world. We just don’t know it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Let’s take education for example. We say we are educated, civilized, superior to animals… are we? Don’t we kill out of greed, vengeance, pure evilness, stupidity? We want to control everything but we can’t even control ourselves! That’s just how we are. No point denying it! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We always hope there is somewhere a person who could understand us, who could care for us, who could be with us forever… but that’s all wishful thinking!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Something we need to believe to move on, to take the next breath and to get out of bed in the morning. Nevertheless is that the truth?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I don’t know…..</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">2</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Always taking care of people…God forbid to hurt someone’s feelings! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">You shouldn’t swear! You should behave! Do like the others do too? Don’t stand out! Don’t act different! Don’t think different! Be the same… the same…the same! Don’t rebel! Don’t be yourself! Be like the others! Just live, from day to day, each year, until you die! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">You don’t need to think, just follow what others say! You don’t know anything, you’re weak, you need others! You will die all alone! You will survive only by following the herd. Don’t think about it! Just ... BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! BREATHE! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">No need for a break! Everyone is perfect! You are the only one imperfect! Don’t struggle to change! Accept everything! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE! LIVE!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Most people start thinking about the purpose of their life, and still, they end up all the same, that’s what education transforms us in! No use defying it! It’s the rule! The unspoken, unseen rule! Just obey and go on!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">You think life is hard, it’s no, only if you think! But don’t worry; naturally you will forget that you ever thought about such things!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I was so young then! I didn’t know what I was saying!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">And still when we are young we are the truest to our nature! But time, blasted time always fucks us over! No need to even fight it! It will happen! Even I, tomorrow I will be getting out of the bed, drinking my morning coffee, grabbing my bag, going to school, making small talk with my colleagues, smiling like an idiot, because that’s what I need to do, to go on, to survive! Pretend, retain all your feelings and then lock them up somewhere far away so they won’t escape! Joke about everything important! Kick all your thoughts away and just meekly live like the others!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">People could be such interesting things if only they were true to what they really thought! But they’re not! Life isn’t so simple as to allow us to do that! But then again what do we care about what life lets us do? Well, do we have a choice?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Can we really completely separate what we’re taught and what we think? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ahh, why should I be the only one to think about this? Oh wait, I probably am not. But we will all forget we even had such thoughts! That’s why I’m writing them, so I can reread them later and try to remember. Well of course if read in a state of oblivion and total refusal to think, I will think these are all things I thought cause I was upset. But is it really so? Can we say with certainty that it is so or it isn’t? Can anyone answer me this? Should I believe what you think? Show me proof, solid proof! Use logic, I don’t care, just show me I’m wrong so I can return to the oblivious pattern which we all have! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I want to go! I want to stay! I want to remember! I want to forget! I want to care! I don’t want to care! Save me! Let me alone! Catch me! Let me fall!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">No matter what… Do something! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">But, you won’t, neither will him, her, them, or anyone else! Why? Because you don’t care! Read it all as my mistakes in judgment! Tell yourself I’m emo, stupid, a child, naive, anything you want. I don’t care! Live your life just as you did until now! Why should I care? You don’t! I won’t either! There is no escape! Everything is a mess, will be one and will end as one! Will it end, I wonder…</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">3</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ahh life is wonderful! It’s so sunny outside and I have someone who loves me truly! Everything is perfect! A good job, wonderful children, great relatives! Life is really perfect for me now! Forget all the stupid little problems! They don’t matter! They’re just passing by; everything will be all right in the end!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just need to keep working hard for everyone’s happiness! It’s easy to do that because I have family and friends which are always beside me, helping, and also God! Thank you God for blessing me with life! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">What? You have a problem? No worries, it will solve itself if you just keep trying and believe so! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Life is WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">This is the truth! Happiness exists! Love exists! Love exists! Faith exists! Breathe with great PLEASURE, PLEASURE, PLEASURE, PLEASURE, PLEASURE, PLEASURE, PLEASURE, PLEASURE, PLEASURE, PLEASURE, PLEASURE, PLEASURE, PLEASURE, PLEASURE, PLEASURE, PLEASURE, PLEASURE, PLEASURE, PLEASURE, PLEASURE, PLEASURE.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Is your problem still not solved? Persevere! It will happen! I promise! How do I know? Because I’m happy. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You just haven’t fund the balance of your life. It will happen! It’s all related to time!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">No, you won’t be to late in finding your road. It’s never to late!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">If you can’t be happy in this life, you’ll get what you deserve in the afterlife! Don’t worry! Everything happens with a reason! Don’t despair! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Isn’t this nice! Just enjoying life! Without thinking about what we enjoy. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Is It Really? Is This What You Call Life? Is This What You Call Happiness? Are You Content With This?</span></div>
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Yes? Good then, live like that! Go on breathing happily until your last one! Don’t read this, don’t think about this, don’t mind this! This is all but a small accident in the course of life!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Everything is okay now! Enjoy life!</span></b></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The little boy looked slightly over the end of the fence only to see the whitish fog embracing the small and run-down house at the very end of the hill. As he drew nearer with unsteady steps, tiny flickering lights made their appearance from time to time in a circular pattern, making the boy question the direction of the house over and over again. They were dancing, happily dancing, swirling in the cold air. They couldn’t be counted although as they approached the boy, he realized he couldn't figure out if it was really them moving, or him, staggering, an eight years old boy.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Although it was already dark and the clouds were huffing loud threats with all they had, there was not a single drop of rain to be seen. It was an ominous feeling in the air, as the boy was hesitantly approaching the house. Suddenly, the playful lights were gone, now the only visibility he had was given by the shy moonlight rays which from time to time would arise from beyond the clouds. The stillness of the surrounding nature was adding to the chilling atmosphere. He wanted to scream, but he couldn’t. Nothing could come out of the little boy’s chest.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">A sound was heard, as he approached the house even more. Where did the rhythmical sound emerge from? At first it was just barely reaching his years, but as he kept walking forward the pulsating sound drew closer and closer and with an accelerating speed. He finally arrived at the front porch of the house. As he put forth his hand, a bell started ringing in a bloodcurdling tone. Suddenly a strong light was turned on in front of the door. Slowly the door cracked open.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Trick or treat! The boy mumbled while trying his best not to run away.</span></div>RC Michhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02783921567712364984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6344346864020117566.post-25445376045364727042012-09-10T02:39:00.000-07:002014-10-05T12:26:41.109-07:00Ouija documentation project<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Today is 6 of June 2006. We are all now gathered at this house to make an experiment as homework, that was provided by our English teacher. The house we’re at is on Granicerilor Street in the small town called Baia Mare. Country: Romania. We have 7 days to finish this task.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Our goal is to prove that ghosts exist. We are four people participating in this project:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">1<sup>st</sup>: Mihaela Rogojan</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">2<sup>nd</sup>: Cristina Pop</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">3<sup>rd</sup>: Ana Nicolae</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">4<sup>th</sup>: Nicoleta Stan</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">This place belongs to me, the leader of the group, Mihaela Rogojan. It is a house we don’t usually use unless we are renovating the other one. It used to be leased but the previous tenants moved away a month ago.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Day I:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">While placing our hands together on the planchette there were no sign of anything out of the ordinary. We stayed for three hours trying to call on someone from the other world. Conclusion: 1<sup>st</sup> day failure to prove existence of spirits.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">..........................................................................</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Day II:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Still nothing out of the ordinary happened. We stayed 5 hours trying. Conclusion: 2<sup>nd</sup> day failure to prove existence of spirits.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">.........................................................................</span></div><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Today was the first day something could be interpreted as anything supernatural happening. The planchette moved as a sign that something or someone was successfully summoned. Then we started asking questions but he or she stayed quiet. All of a sudden, after about an hour, the board shook violently until we all got our hands off of it. We called it quits for today. Conclusion: Got some signs but nothing big.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">...........................................................................</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Day IV:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Today we found out some answers. The spirit summoned was a woman, who died in 1944. According to what she said, she didn’t die of natural causes. She was married and had a kid named George. Her name is Amalia. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">The questions and answers were as follow (going to spell the answers as on the board):</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Are you there?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">YES</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">What is your name?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">A+M+A+L+I+A</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Are you dead?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">YES</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">When did you die?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">1+9+4+4</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Why did you die?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">(no response)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">How old were you?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">2+5</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Were you single?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">NO</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Did you have kids?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">YES</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">How many?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">O+N+E</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Do you remember his name?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">YES</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">What was it?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">G+E+O+R+G+E</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">That was all for now. Thank you!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Day V:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">I don’t know what happened! Everything was going great until Amalia suddenly got angry. We tried to sooth her but in vain. It’s still raining outside and we can’t get out. All the windows and doors are locked. I don’t know how or why she’s doing this. Our cell phones are out of signal and we are the only ones in this house. It is now 8 PM. We decided to give it another try and find out why she is doing this.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">What happened?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Y+O+U</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Did we offend you?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Y+O+U</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">How can we make it up to you?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Y+O+U</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">No matter what we ask. It’s the same answer.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Little time has passed and the board started moving by itself. It was only one word it spelled over and over again. It was a name. My name: M+I+H+A+E+L+A</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Suddenly all the lights went out and powerful knocking was heard at both the door and the window at the same time. It was dark inside and outside. We could still hear the planchette moving on the board. Lighting and thunder was being heard from outside and it was just adding to the terror we were all feeling. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Nevertheless I think I was the most petrified. Why my name? Was it because the house was mine? Does she have any connection to this place?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">..........................................................................</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Day VI:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">It’s now past 1 AM. The board stopped moving and the knocking ceased. Outside the violent storm is still making a ruckus. We are all on the one bed there is, embracing each other tightly. Nothing happened since then…except...I had a very bizarre dream. I was just a small child in the dream, around 5 years old. And there was a little boy playing with me. He was older and had contrasting blue eyes and crimson color hair. I noticed that he followed me everywhere but nobody said anything about him. Was he a relative? Wouldn’t I have remembered him, with such egregious features? I know his name, but I can’t clearly remember it. It’s on the tip of my tongue. Maybe the dream was induced by the strenuous atmosphere. The girls can’t seem to take it anymore either. Ana already fainted once, Nicoleta is on the verge of a mental breakdown and Cristina can’t stop crying. We are currently waiting for the sun to rise.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;"> ..........................................................................</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">I can’t believe what happened. The things were starting to look better regarding our situation, Amalia was no longer mad. Or at least that was what we thought. Nevertheless as soon as we attempted to leave the room, the knocking began again, even more violent than before. We didn’t answer. Then, as surrounding us, we heard whispers coming from every corner of the room. Each of our names was said 9 times. Or at least from what I counted. But I can’t say for sure. Even though it’s already 1 PM, it’s still pretty dark inside the room. The storm was still raging wild outside but now it was only whips of rain drops powered by the restless bursts of wind.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">It’s now 4 PM. I just got signal on my cellular and I phoned my father to come get us. Hopefully everything will be okay from now on. Now only if I could find o.............</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tMhO0_grPuo/TIn72X1cZ3I/AAAAAAAAACE/kVtSFBZ5d1M/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tMhO0_grPuo/TIn72X1cZ3I/AAAAAAAAACE/kVtSFBZ5d1M/s320/2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;"> ..........................................................................</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Already two weeks passed. Today is the 27 of June. We are all safe. Sometimes I can’t believe something really happened. The only thing which is disturbing now is the blackout we all had. We can’t remember anything that happened in the 7 days we were there. Apparently mother only got the phone call on 13<sup>th</sup> of June, the 7<sup>th</sup> day of our project. But it clearly states that it was on the 12<sup>th</sup> that I called.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">I researched the spirit we encountered. I am now unwilling to call her by her name. I did found some testimonials about her. But she wasn’t even from this town. She was from a town called Tulcea, which is in the South-East of the country while we are in the North. She was a nurse in the World War II. She indeed had a son named George and ironically she died by the very hands of her beloved son. He was wounded on the battlefield and when he was sent back he had already lost a leg. Apparently the operation took place with his mother beside him. Blaming her for the lost, he one day slashed her neck with a kitchen knife. Also what greatly bothered me was that the same man was the last tenant we had at the apartment. When I asked my parents about that family I found out the father committed suicide in the apartment. The reason is still unknown. Apparently it was in the same room where we gathered. I might have a hunch as just why he felt that he had nowhere else to go.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">Regarding the dream, it wasn’t as I thought.That boy has another story behind him.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Mistral; font-size: 16pt;">This concludes this documentation paper regarding the existence of spiritual beings. I will leave this in your hands, you may use it however you want.</span></div>RC Michhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02783921567712364984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6344346864020117566.post-58867331252547592052012-06-22T09:47:00.000-07:002014-10-05T12:28:02.589-07:00Dream or reality?Even if I told somebody about what happened to me, they wouldn’t believe me. I mean, I can hardly believe it either, and I’m not too sure about what happened.<br />
<br />
It all started one overcast night. It was a full moon but you could hardly see any light coming from it because of all the clouds covering the sky. From time to time you could hear the cricket’s song outside in the yard. I was reading a book in my bed when I heard a noise coming from downstairs. So I got up and went to see what was going on. When I got near the end of the stairs I shouted:<br />
<br />
“Mom? Is that you? What are you doing home? Was the trip canceled?”<br />
<br />
But nobody answered, although the lights in the kitchen were on. So I walked slowly as to not make too much noise. I was getting scared. I knew my brother was spending the night at his friend, so I was home alone. I reached for the umbrella near the entrance, and then I entered the dining room. The light was becoming stronger as I approached the kitchen door. I could hear the noise intensifying and getting louder, there was even a crash. Although I could barely stay on my feet, because they were shaking uncontrollably, I watchfully entered the kitchen.<br />
<br />
There was a mess on the floor. The fridge was wide open, and the cake I made that day was on the floor. Between parts of cornflakes, which usually were on the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard, there was a smashed dish. The flower vase on the kitchen work table was upside-down, and the flowers were a mile away, near the fridge.<br />
<br />
I raised the umbrella over ready to strike at the smallest move, but everything was quiet now. Then I noticed the window was open. I must have forgotten to close it before going upstairs. When I reached for the sash of the window to close it, I looked outside. There were about ten pairs of red, beady, eyes looking at me. Some were further, some closer, with their eyes fixed on the kitchen window. I felt a creepy chill running down my spine.<br />
<br />
I suddenly hid, gluing myself to the wall of the window. I then stealthy looked out the window again, while in the same time, I extended my hand to the gardens lights switch. I pushed it. When the light lit in the garden, I saw many squirrels running for cover to the darker sides of the backyard.<br />
<br />
I’ve never in my life seen so many squirrels all in one place. It wasn’t very pleasant, especially since I was alone at home, and it was late at night too. But this wasn’t even the weirdest part. That came the next morning.<br />
<br />
After I closed the window, I was so relieved that I suddenly felt very sleepy. I decided to go to bed and clean up tomorrow. “Nobody will know if I just clean it tomorrow. I’m too sleepy now, and after the scare I’ve been through, I deserve a good night’s sleep.” I told myself, while checking to see if the doors and windows were looked tightly. So I climbed into bed, and fell asleep the moment I put my head on the pillow.<br />
<br />
The next morning when I woke up, to my surprise, everything was at their place. Even the cake was still in the fridge, untouched, and there weren’t any broken plates. Was it all a dream? I asked myself. But just, when I was sure I’ve dreamed it all, I saw a squirrel near the kitchen window, looking into the house. When she noticed I had seen her, she quickly ran into the apple three in the garden, and then disappeared from sight.<br />
<br />
Later that day, when my brother came home, I asked him if he came earlier by any chance, and cleaned up the kitchen. But he said he was at his friend’s house up until now, and they didn’t even left their house all day, because they were playing an online game.<br />
<br />
What really happened on that night or if it was all a dream, I’m not sure. All I know is that from then on, every time I look into the garden, I search for traces of squirrels in the trees or on the ground. It has become a habit now. And sometimes, I even have the impression that there is someone watching from outside the window, carefully as to not be discovered.RC Michhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02783921567712364984noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6344346864020117566.post-65543996717542128372012-05-05T10:26:00.000-07:002014-10-05T12:28:11.313-07:00Gibberish of an "old" woman<span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Every time I open my computer… And I see my desktop full of shortcuts of games… I think to myself: Why am I playing all this? The answer is: To escape reality!<br />
Online or offline… they all make me forget about failed exams, problems with social relationships or even those with my family. When I play, I concentrate only to grow more, to extend my influence, make some friends, and just plainly have fun. Now a day it’s all about the computer. When was the last time I noticed the birds chirping at my window, or the light breeze of summer. I have long forgotten the feeling of innocence. Even if I’m only 21 years old, I feel like I’ve lived a long life. My early years were troublesome not because of me but because of my father, who for a while lost to the alcohol and regrets. This was after my mother died. I often saw him dead drunk, with his head on the table, snoring away as he lost touch with reality, he succumbed to a beautiful dream. There he wasn’t left all alone… with three young girls to take care of. Although I was young, I already knew the gravity of the problem my father was facing. Maybe if it wasn’t for his mother, my grandmother, we, the three sisters wouldn’t be together now. But this all passed we grew up, but then, life showed us another problem…love. What is love, and how do you find it? Is it just something you feel deep inside ourselves, or just an illusion we like to create in order to feel secured? I personally think the so called love happens when we feel at peace with another person…which can be from different reasons. Financially or emotionally, as long as we are accepted, and we feel protected, we classify that as love. Maybe this comes from the need of companionship, and the fright of dying alone. Which again I believe is weird because one way or the other, we are one person and we are born alone, and die alone, no matter who is beside us. Now how can we find the rumored soul mate? The most honest answer I can come up with right now is that there isn’t a soul mate. It’s all an illusion which we create in order for us to feel better about our life. Even if there is a sexual attraction, the emotional one exists only for a short time. Sexual attraction can stay for a longer time, but even that, sooner or later end up as nothing but mere memories. So real love is just what people have created in order to please themselves. <br />
There are some people who realize that, and in all my bad luck, I am one of them. And when I realized this, I knew that the fairy-tales I listened to when I was little were just part of the ways to make us fall under this impression of love and care among humans. But there isn’t any, it’s all just customs, like the wedding, and our need to rely on somebody. Maybe that isn’t even the worst part. That which now recognizes some ideas of love as false, but that which teaches us to believe in this idea, only for our own selfish reasons, that can later lead to disappointment and sadness. So in the end, thinking about all this, it’s nothing that can make me feel better about life. We live for ourselves, and everything we do is conditioned by our own good. We are just some self-absorbed creatures, who are a little more evolved than animals. I believe animals have more right to be happy then humans do. Because they live by their instincts, and if they hurt something, it’s not intentionally, unlike humans, who can hurt other creatures, just for their own self-satisfaction, without even thinking twice about it. <br />
Thinking about all this makes me want to escape, to a fantasy world, where I can be a stronger person, a wiser person, where people aren’t judged from how they look, and where I can act freely, without worrying about the consequences. But even if I try to escape in my own imaginary world, or online gaming, it’s all in vain. Even there, people influence the way society is thinking, leading to a copy of real life society, from which I wanted to escape in the first place. So human’s ideas and ideals transfer even to games and imagination, leaving us with no way out of this labyrinth of thoughts. This circle is repetitive and it will be like that even for the years to come, when humans, lost in their ignorance, will eventually destroy each other and themselves, without even realizing it, and the whole human kind will reset itself, if not vanish, returning maybe even then, at a innocent state of things, but then, there will be no more proof of these thoughts passing through my mind, and maybe there will be no one to even be able to read this, as my conciseness, flies at long last, freely through the universe.<br />
And there will be no meaning in ever thinking about it. Then, I will stop searching for ways to evade life.<br />
</span></div>RC Michhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02783921567712364984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6344346864020117566.post-31891916483260525992012-04-28T10:47:00.000-07:002014-10-05T12:28:16.235-07:00Colorful pebbles“He’s back!”<br />
<br />
“Are you serious? What is he doing, back here?”<br />
<br />
“Who are you talking about?” Sarah asked, coming behind the two girls, who were talking.<br />
<br />
“The devil!” The girls said in unison.<br />
<br />
“Devil?”<br />
<br />
“Yes. You don’t know yet, because you just moved, but if you see a man, with white hair, and red eyes, stay away from him.”<br />
<br />
“Why?”<br />
<br />
“What do you mean, why? Didn't we just told you?”<br />
<br />
“Come on sis, let’s go. She won’t understand, anyway…” And they left, chattering away.<br />
<br />
“Weird girls, those two!” Sarah grumbled. “Devil, that’s stupid. Now I don’t fell like going to school anymore. I really hate it here. It’s a total bore. Maybe, if the devil would really be here, it will make things more interesting.” She said, while turning in the opposite direction, and walking slowly.<br />
<br />
“Mm, I’ve never been here before.” She said, when she noticed a road, a little farther from the central one. The road was secluded, by a row of trees, on which the treetops, were filled with pink flowers. Some of the flowers, were scattered onto the road, forming a soft cover to walk on.<br />
<br />
Advancing on the pathway, while kicking rocks that were on the way, Sarah heard a strange noise. When she looked down, she noticed, she had kicked a metallic ball of some sort. She took it up, and stared at it. “What is this?” She wondered, while examining it. When she shook it, she could hear noise, coming from it. “There is something in it.” She said, while shaking it some more. Then, she turned it on all sides, but could not figure out how to open it.<br />
<br />
While she was preoccupied with the ball, her cell phone rang. She took it out, and answered it: “Yeah? At school. No, I’m not! I’ll come back, after school hours. Yeah, bye!” And she hung up. She tucked the ball in her bag, and went back to the main road, heading in the direction of the school.<br />
<br />
Sarah was a thin girl, her hair was raven black, shoulder length, and she had dark blue eyes. She came from the city, around a month ago, with her father. She was only 17 years old, but because of her mother's death, when she was little, she had to take care of the house chores, so she was more experienced and mature, than the rest of the girls. As a consequence, she never got along well with her classmates, being considered conceited.<br />
<br />
When night came, just before going to bed, Sarah heard the sound of pebbles, hitting the frame of her window. She looked outside, but the sky was covered with clouds, and she could not see anything. She took a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a summer jacket, descended from the window, onto the balcony, and jumped on a tree near her. She then, lowered herself carefully on the tree, until she could touch the ground, with her feet.<br />
<br />
She looked around, to see who had thrown the pebbles. It was even darker, as she distanced herself from the house. Not long after, the clouds started dissipating, allowing the moon rays, to fall onto the ground. Then, she saw a person, with white, long, flowing hair, heading down to the same road, she accidentally discovered that day. Without hesitating, she followed the man, who did not even turn around to see if she was following him.<br />
<br />
When they arrived onto the pathway, surrounded by trees, the man disappeared after a tree. Sarah followed. When she squeezed herself, through a pair of trees, she raised one of her hand, to block the strong light which was hurting her eyes. When she got used to the bright light, she remained in awe, unmoved, for a couple of seconds. She could see a large, blue lake, outstretched on the horizon. Fishes were swimming around, and moons pale shafts of light, shining down on them. The fish were reflecting the moon rays, which made them look, like moving jewelry stones.<br />
<br />
She then noticed the man, who was squatting, on the edge of the lake, playing with white pebbles. She approached him slowly, careful not to startle him. When she looked at him, she saw that his eyes were dark red, and they stood out even more, alongside his fair skin. When she reached, the place he was at, she sat down beside him, and turned her gaze to the lake.<br />
<br />
“Why did you call me here?” She asked him, without even looking in his direction.<br />
<br />
“The ball.” He replied, shortly. His voice was melodious, and he had a foreign accent.<br />
<br />
“Oh, it was yours? Sorry, I didn’t know.” Sarah said, excusing herself.<br />
<br />
“I know.” He simply said, smiling softly, and extended his arm, with his hand open.<br />
<br />
She took the ball, from the pocket of her jacket, and handed it to him.<br />
<br />
“What is in that ball?” Sarah asked.<br />
<br />
The man pushed a small knot, on one side of the ball, and the ball opened easily. From it, colorful pebbles fell, onto the ground.<br />
<br />
“Ah, I see.” She said, staring at the pebbles.<br />
<br />
“Do you collect them?” He nodded.<br />
<br />
“They’re beautiful!” She exclaimed, while looking at each, in turn.<br />
<br />
“What’s your name?” The man asked.<br />
<br />
“Sarah. What is yours?” She turned to the man, waiting for an answer.<br />
<br />
“Whitley” He said, lowering his head.<br />
<br />
“It means white meadow, right?” She asked, in a casual tone, and then continued. “It’s a beautiful name.” The man turned at her, and smiled.<br />
<br />
“Yeah.” He said.<br />
<br />
"Are you the one the local girls call the devil?" She asked with an nonchalant tone. He showed signs of nervousness, but still answered without his voice giving away what he felt.<br />
<br />
"Yeah. They call me that..."<br />
<br />
"Why?" Sarah said, with a genuine curiosity and innocence. Whitley answered while raising his tone a little.<br />
<br />
"What do you mean why? Isn't it obvious? It's because of my looks." He turned his eyes away from her.<br />
<br />
"I don't understand. I like how you look. And it's not your fault you have albinism either. So why call you devil. That's just stupid. That's why I hate this place, so many ignorant people." She said in a rush. Her cheeks turned red and her fists were clenched on the ground. He turned around and stared at her amazed.<br />
<br />
"How did you know? Not many are aware of the cause of my looks." He asked while smiling gently.<br />
<br />
"My mother..." She answered while leaning backwards, on her elbows, and making a short pause in her speech. "... She had it too..."<br />
<br />
"Ah I see." He said while avoiding her look. "Where is she now?" He continued.<br />
<br />
"She died, when I was 8." Sarah replied with a bored tone.<br />
<br />
"I'm sorry." He said.<br />
<br />
"It's okay, let's just change the subject, it's boring." She said while looking at him, and smiling softly.<br />
<br />
They stood there, by the side of the lake, talking about everything, and anything, until it was time to go home.<br />
<br />
“When are you coming, again?” She asked.<br />
<br />
“Next year.” He replied. Sarah was disappointed. She had finally found, a person to talk to, and he was leaving, for a whole year.<br />
<br />
“Here, take care of it, for me. And I shall bring more, to add to the collection.” And as he said that, he placed the metal ball, in her hands.<br />
<br />
“Okay, you can count on me!” She said happily. “I’ll see you next year!” She shouted, as he was moving away. He turned, and waved to her, before disappearing among the trees.RC Michhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02783921567712364984noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6344346864020117566.post-65872695521949941542012-03-10T04:53:00.000-08:002014-10-05T12:28:27.145-07:00Rain drops<meta content="text/html; charset=utf-8" http-equiv="Content-Type"></meta><meta content="Word.Document" name="ProgId"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 12" name="Generator"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 12" name="Originator"></meta><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMima%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List"></link><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMima%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx" rel="themeData"></link><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMima%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml" rel="colorSchemeMapping"></link> <m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent><style>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">I can feel it, cold rain drops, falling heavy onto my skin. It is so eerie the emotional state that I am in right now. Everything around me is gloomy, drowning in a felling of sadness and despair. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">It does not matter how much I run, all I can see is darkened, tight corridors which lead form one room to another. Each room is empty, with glassy floors, wrapped up in darkness. There is no ceiling to these rooms. Rain is falling without stopping, becoming colder as I advance through the corridors.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">I am now already tired and scared; I need to find something, but what? What is so important for me to run after in this horrid weather? I cannot see anything clear, only walls around me, and rain above me. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">The sound of the big rain drops, falling on the glassy surface of each room, makes my head hurt. It’s a rhythmic sound, blending with the noise that my bare feet are making. Running through the corridors with unsure steps, trying to control the tremble of my whole body, as not to fall before I reach my destination, I sometime search the walls of the corridors for something to hold on to.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">It is getting harder to breath now, as my running pace slows down, the feeling of panic rises through me. I cannot find it, but it must be here.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">I see a door; a warm air flows from within. And I can see a welcoming ray of light coming from under the door. I grab the handle and while turning the door knob, I slowly push it. But it will not open. It will not move an inch, regardless of the strength used.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">I know this is what I am looking for, but why won’t it open? Am I missing something? A key! That must be it. At least now I know what I am looking for. I just need to find a key. Realizing this, I feel a lot lighter and happier. I must search for the key, and I will find it, no matter what it takes.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"> While thinking like that, I start running again. But the rain is still cold, and the corridors are never-ending. Still no sign of the key. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">The wet clothes are weighting me down. It takes all my will, just to keep on going. My muscles are hurting, as I use them even more as time passes, trying to keep going, without thinking about the tiredness I am feeling. I am focusing all my attention into finding any trace of the key.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">I can see light, coming from one of the rooms with the open ceiling. Maybe it is the key. I stop for a moment to rest. Then I use the little energy I have left to head into the direction of the light. But the more I struggle to advance, the dimmer the light appears. Then questions and doubts start rising into my mind:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">Am I going the right way? Is there really a key to that door, or am I looking for it in vain? Why is the light getting fainter by the minute? Maybe it is a fire, and the rain is extinguishing it. I should hurry.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">I finally arrive in the room, and as I look around me, trying to discern through the darkness, where the light had come from, I see another door. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">Even though the room is darkened and the rain obscures the little visibility I have, I can see that the door is different from the last one. It is upholstered with dark-red silk and the casing is silver. When I try to open the door, I feel that the doorknob is warming up, as I keep my cold hand on it. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">This must be where the key is. I thought. As I slowly push the door, the door swings aside, permitting entry. I see a flicker of light which quickly dies off, in the middle of the room. Then a deep darkness envelops me and the door behind me closes with a loud noise.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">As I try to figure out where I am, I am hesitantly touching the walls with my hands, groping after a familiar object. Maybe the key is hidden here, in all the darkness. My hands find a thread with a little knot at the end. This must be the light for the room. I think, while I pull it firmly.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"> Suddenly, the floor disappears, and I begin to fall. My voice will not come out, I cannot even scream. I am petrified with fear. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">Ah, I must be outside, because as I fall, I feel yet again, the cold rain falling heavily on me. It makes all my pores scream of pain. Such a sharp pain, that it makes me wish I was dead and unfeeling. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">The fall is never-ending, where is the ground? How much more time does it take to reach death. As these thoughts rush through my head, I hear a stuffed sound, coming from above me. Someone is calling for me. But who is it? Can’t they save me? Although I struggle to free myself from the terror, I can’t reply to the voice calling for me. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">And so I remain motionless, as I am falling deeper and deeper into darkness and despair, without being able to mutter one single word for help. Since whatever I try to do is worthless, I close my eyes, waiting for death, while my body still shivers slightly as cold rain drops whip through my body.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">“Finally you’re awake!” Somebody said with a worried tone of voice. “I thought I have to take you to the hospital.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">As I open my eyes, I see a shadow leaning over me. I can feel this person’s presence even more when she puts a cold compress on my forehead. It’s my mother.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">“It’s time to take your medicine.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">As I hear her speak, I slowly realize.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;">“It was all a dream!” I mumble to myself with a smile of satisfaction at the warm bed, and the caring hand that strokes my hair, before falling unconscious yet again, under the influence of the fever.</div><br />
RC Michhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02783921567712364984noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6344346864020117566.post-84382929981769976062012-02-17T06:58:00.000-08:002014-10-05T12:28:46.349-07:00An unbelievable trip<span style="font-size: small;"></span><span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">As I hurriedly shoved my wallet into the back pocket of my jeans, I heard the doorbell ring.</span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">“Ah, she’s here already!” I said while rushing to open the door. In front of me stood my older sister with a fairly big bag on her shoulder.</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">“I’ll be done in a minute, Alice, just wait!” I said to her before she could even say hello.</span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">“Yeah, yeah okay. Just hurry, will you? The plane will leave in two hours and we’re still here”, she replied while impatiently typing a message on her cell phone.</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">“Ready!” I said after a few minutes. “Let’s go!”</span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">And so we got into her car and drove for about 20 minutes while listening to the radio in the car. When we finally arrived at the airport we checked our luggage in and then we stood there, waiting for the plane, while drinking a cup of coffee from a vending machine.</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Finally the plane arrived, and we got on board of it. It was my first time ridding on a plane, so I was excited. My sister left me the window seat, as she had already traveled by plane a couple of times. She was obviously having fun seeing me so excited.</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">“Hope we don’t crash”, she said with an evil smile on her face. She knew I had heard many stories about airplanes crashing and I was a little scared.</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">“Don’t say that!” I whined, while checking my seatbelt. “You can’t scare me!”</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">“Yeah, yeah, I wouldn’t even dream of it”, she replied with an ironic tone.</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">We were almost at the destination, at the St. Kitts Island. We had decided on this destination after finding the Tripbase website on the internet. And there it was, Saint Kitts and Nevis sister Islands. Me and my sister were looking for a quiet place to unwind and recharge our batteries, so we discussed going on this trip. And before I knew it, we had already bought the tickets and made our reservations.</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">When we arrived, it was already evening, so we took a taxi to our hotel. It was called “Bird Rock”, and it had an incredible view of the Caribbean Sea.</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">After we checked in our room and arranged our luggage, we had dinner at “Diana’s Restaurant”, a meal which consisted of specific Caribbean dishes that even now, thinking about them, make my mouth water.</span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Afterwards, we were pretty tired after all the new things around us, so we retired to our room, and went to bed. The next day, we planned to go to the beach and take a dive into the sea.</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">After a few hours, I woke up at the sound of the TV. My sister had left it on and had fallen asleep like a rock. So I got up, and turned it off. But by then, I wasn’t sleepy anymore, so I decided to take a stroll on the beach. As it was still late at night, I could be all alone on the beach. So I changed into a white, thin blouse and a pair of jeans and went out of the room, as quietly as possible.</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Just like I thought, I was all alone on the quiet beach, which was located in a protective cove. As I walked around, the warm sand was gently massaging my feet. Some red and narrow beams of light started appearing slowly, on the clear sky, while I was admiring their reflection in the water. As small waves were caressing the sand, they seemed to be dancing on the glassy surface. </span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">While I was thinking of returning to my room, I noticed a manly figure slowly coming out of the water. The man had long, black hair, and a good stature. He was definitely a swimmer. He wore a black swimming trunk, while his chest was naked. And while he was brushing his hair back, water was dripping from his body, leaving a trail on the dry sand.</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">I stood there entranced by this man, who seemed to be coming straight from a dream, as to answer my desire for company. At first, he didn’t seem to notice me. He then proceeded to slip his white shirt, which was crumpled at the root of a palm tree, back on his broad shoulders. The shirt slid easily on his chest following the contours of his wet skin. He suddenly fixed his eyes on me and slowly approached the spot where I was standing.</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">As I watched him walking towards me, I could feel a small wince of fear, passing through my body. But nevertheless, I just stood there, unable to utter a word. I could feel his eyes going over my body, binding me to the ground.</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">When he was in front of me, he took my left hand, and laid a cold kiss on it. I could almost feel the salty water of the sea, now on my left hand. I didn’t say anything, I couldn’t.</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">He stood there, in front of me, looking at me, holding my hand into his, for what to me seemed a couple of hours. He then slowly led me towards the sea, without even muttering a word.</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Even though I thought it was strange, at that moment I couldn’t disobey him. I was following him blindly. There was something attracting me to this person, something linking me to him, leaving me at his command.</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">As we slowly walked into the sea, I could feel the small, cold waves crashing at my feet. When the water was around my waist, he suddenly stopped. He then turned to me and embraced me.</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">His arms were cold, clinging desperately onto me. As if waking up from a trance, I put my arms around him, and whispered: “I’m sorry!”</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">He then looked at me, with a sad smile, and nodded. He understood. While still holding me, he softly touched my forehead with his lips. When he let go of me, I noticed a tear, dropping onto his cheek. As I gently wiped it off with my right hand, I could feel its warmth.</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Before I could realize it, tears started flowing out of my eyes, blocking my view of the man. After I wiped them off violently, rubbing my eyes, I noticed he was already gone. I couldn’t see him anymore. My knees gave in, and I was in the water up to my neck.</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">After that night, all I would do was sit at the beach, almost all day and night, waiting for him to appear again. But regardless of how much time I waited, he wouldn’t come. After a week had passed, it was time to return home. And indifferent to what I said, my sister, who thought it was all a dream, persuaded me to return.</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">I knew I couldn’t stay anymore, and I also knew I wouldn’t see him anymore, so I agreed to return home, without too much fuss.</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">The ride home wasn’t nearly as fun as the ride to the Islands, and I didn’t get to visit much either, but one thing I know for sure. I will never forget the night I met him. Even if no one believed me, and still I myself can’t understand what happened exactly, I can say with certainty that it was all real.</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Since that day, whenever I get some free time from work, I return there, in hope that I will see him once again, and this time, I will surely go with him, wherever he takes me.</span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div>RC Michhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02783921567712364984noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6344346864020117566.post-60094104603280466132012-01-25T03:10:00.000-08:002014-10-05T12:28:54.042-07:00The girl with the broach (Final part)<meta content="text/html; charset=utf-8" equiv="Content-Type"></meta><meta content="Word.Document" name="ProgId"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 12" name="Generator"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 12" name="Originator"></meta><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMima%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List"></link><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMima%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx" rel="themeData"></link><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMima%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml" rel="colorSchemeMapping"></link> <m:smallfrac val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin val="0"> <m:rmargin val="0"> <m:defjc val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent val="1440"> <m:intlim val="subSup"> <m:narylim val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent><style>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“I should go.” Fred whispered, but it was enough to sober her up. It would have been the same, if he would have shouted. She didn’t move, just replied.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“I understand.” Her reply was also a whisper, but it weighted heavily on both of them.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Can I…” Fred started. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“No!..Yes!..I don’t know! Yes!” she said, in the end, with a slight panic in her voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“I’m glad, thank you!” He replied, while smiling gently at her. She looked at him, and smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“You, have a beautiful smile.” He said, while finally letting go of her. She then blushed violently. He started laughing.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“I bet, I could never get bored of you.” He said, still laughing. After, they said goodbye. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The party was almost over, and the guest were scattered through the halls, some of them even went up to the rooms, they were staying in. Mia hurried back, to the kitchen, to help out, but her mind, was still in the room, where it all just happened, the room where she had, her very first kiss.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The next day, as they were cleaning, after the party, Mia heard some of the servants whispering. She then approached, to hear the conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“So that was him right? Mr. Raymond.” As she heard the name, Mia’s heart skipped a beat.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yeah, I hear he’s called Frederick Thomas, after his grandfather. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Who would have guessed, he was the fiancé. Few people knew him; he’s been secluded all this years, good thing he found a wife now. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I wonder why, did he arrived so late last night? He came almost, at the end of the party.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And Miss Evelyn is such a beauty too.” The girls giggled. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“But he’s handsome too, and he has all that wealth now, as a single child, after the accident.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And…” But Mia wasn’t listening anymore; it was him, Fred. Frederick Thomas Raymond. She couldn’t believe it. The happiness from a few moments ago, turned into fright and terror. She was in love, with her own brother? How could that be? And he was marrying Evelyn. She staggered on her feet, for a moment, and then ran into the attic, as fast as her legs carried her. There it was, the painting, placed between some desks and curtains, powdery, from years of neglect. She examined it carefully. Even if she didn’t want to admit it, it was true, he resembled her. The same black hair, and black eyes, even her mouth, looked similar to his. Why, why was it so painful? She always wanted to meet her brother, why did it have to be like this? And the kiss, the soft, loving kiss, now felt like a curse, a chain binding her to her sin. How can she face him, now, after she knew the truth? Day after day, she struggled by herself, thinking what to do, how to tell him. Everything was dark around her, only misery and sadness remained, for the once, extremely happy girl. She couldn’t even smile anymore.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">One day, she was called out by one of the servants. When she walked, out the door, into the backyard, she froze. It was Fred, smiling at her, unaware of what she’s been going through. Sheltering the secret, all by herself, having nightmares, her conscience consuming her as time passed. Before he could even say anything, she made her decision. She couldn’t go on like this, she had to disappear.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Don’t say anything!” She said, with a trembling, forced voice. “Just listen! Meet me, in the central park, the day after tomorrow. I have something important to say, but right now, I can’t. Now, please leave.” And she turned around, and walked back into the kitchen, passed the hall, and entered her room. There, she took a piece of paper, and started scribbling furiously on it. First she made some accounts, to all the money she had, and a list of things she will need. After she finished with them, she placed them in the counter, at her desk. The next piece of paper, and the next, and the next, not one was good enough. How could she, explain to Fred, that his own sister, was deeply and hopelessly, in love with him, and that she couldn’t stay by his side, because he was getting married. She didn’t have good enough words, to tell him, how much he means for her. Finally she took another piece of paper, and wrote, while silently crying:<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Dear Fred,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">By the time you will read this letter, I would be long gone. I don’t know where, I just need to go away, away from you. I need to tell you so many things, so may painful things.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The most important, and the most painful thing, is the fact that I love you! I love you more, than you could ever imagine, and that’s exactly why I’m leaving. I know you don’t understand, why I would be saddened by my love, but until the end of this letter, I hope you will, and that you will agree with me, that this was the best way, we could have handled things.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">These last few days, I tried to forget about you, I couldn’t. I tried to hate you, I couldn’t do that either. In the end, I was left only to feel love, and sadness, in place of anger, and hatred. I tried to blame the whole situation on you, but you weren’t at fault. You didn’t know. It was me who should have figured it out, before everything that had happened. Unfortunately, all is in the past now, and it can’t be undone. It just happened all too quick, for me to even try to resist. So, I’m doing it now. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And yes, I know you are getting married, and I’m sad you didn’t told me, but back then, I didn’t wanted to know, and I probably would have preferred it, if I wouldn’t have ever found out. But it was inevitable; fate seems to bring me only misfortune and suffering. But I can’t do anything about this, and it’s just too big of a problem, to be ignored.<o:p></o:p> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I told you, I was searching for my brother, that day, in the room. Well, I must confess, I found him. Unfortunately, in this case too, I would have liked to remain ignorant, to the person who is my brother. Because, the same person who is my brother, my own flesh and blood, is the same person I shared my first kiss with. Yes Fred, it’s you. How do I know? Because I have our mother’s portrait with me, I always did, from when I was little. I will leave it with this letter, since it will only remind me of you now. I came to love you, painfully much. But, even if you are my brother, I can’t stay with you. I realized it today, when you came to see me. It’s too painful, to love somebody, and not be able to touch him, and see him marry someone else. I’m not that strong. That’s why, I’m running away. You can blame me, for being foolish, and a coward, but please never doubt, my love for you, now and forever.<o:p></o:p> </span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Your loving sister, <o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Mia “<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">One day passed, and Mia started her journey. She knew where to go. The nuns, at the orphanage, once told her, that there was always a place for her, where she was going. It was far away from Fred, and that’s all she wanted for now. She left the letter at a friend, who was also working at that house, and instructed her to deliver it to Fred. She even gave her some money.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">While walking down the road, she took out a little pouch, and felt it through her finders. It was empty now; the emptiness that she felt in her heart was the same as that pouch. It was there, where she kept the pendant, with the portrait of their mother, always close to her heart.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">After a few days, of traveling through various cities, she finally arrived. It was a small town, with little white houses, spread along the road, and fences that surrounded carefully attended gardens, and dogs barking, at some of them, announcing the rival of the owners, back home.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">When she arrived, at the end of the town, she saw a small church, and near it a gray building, which seemed like a dormitory, with windows spread, at even distances one from another. Before she could even reach the door, a big black dog, which contrasted greatly, with the white church, came to greet her. And after him, an old priest, and a young girl, greeted her, and invited her inside. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">She was a teacher there, to all the orphaned children, and she enjoyed spending time with them. She often, spent time in the church, praying ardently, for the happiness of Fred. Even if she was miles away, from him, she could still clearly remember the touch of his hands, and the sound of his voice. Even the taste of his lips, was deeply engraved into her memory. She didn’t try to forget him anymore, she just accepted her sin, and prayed to God. Sometimes she would even dream of him, calling her name, from the middle, of a sea of mist. But she couldn’t see him, and when the mist cleared, all that was left, was the pendant, lying on the ground. When she had these dreams, she would always wake up screaming, and drenched in sweat.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">A couple of weeks have past, and Mia, was getting used to life, in the little town. She was busy all the time, until nightfall, but it helped her get her mind of things, for a while. One day, while she was walking on the narrow street, between trees abloom, she had the peculiar feeling, that someone was watching her. So she turned around, as to see who it was. She thought it was some of the kids, playing a prank on her, but to her surprise, behind her, at about 10 feet, there was a man, looking at her, without averting his eyes. He wore a large hat, on which the brims covered his eyes, so she couldn’t see who it was. Mia had this strange sensation, of pain in her hearth. She took it as fear, and acted accordingly.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Are you looking for me, by any chance?” She said, while trying to keep her voice, firm. The man didn’t say anything, he just nodded. She looked at him again, but she still couldn’t see who it was.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“What can I help you with?” She asked, now intrigued, by the man in front of her.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“You should hug your brother when you see him!” A deep voice said. Mia froze, on the spot. It couldn’t be, he was far away, it must have been her imagination. Then the voice spoke again: <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“And here I thought, you would be happy, to see your dear brother.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Hearing this, she realized, that it wasn’t the man in front of her that spoke. The voice, came from behind her. She then, felt a sharp pain, in her chest.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“How is that possible?” She mumbled, while slowly, turning around. There he was, handsome as ever. He had a few dark circles, around his eyes, and he looked like he traveled a lot, but he was still as charming, as when she had first met him. Of course, he did travel a lot, he’s here. She thought to herself. She couldn’t believe it. She was happy, and hurt, at the same time.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“So, you leave me, just one measly letter, with an insane explanation, and a pendant, and you expect me to stay put?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Insane?” She asked. “I told you the truth! Why have you come here? I have already said, what I had to say and…” But he interrupted her.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yes, you did, and then left, without even waiting for an answer, and you left me, dumbfounded and sick. Did you know, how I felt, when I read your letter?” He was approaching her, slowly, but steadily. She didn’t move. She knew that, deep inside, she wanted to be embraced by him, and called by her name, and even if her logic said no, her heart still longed for him. And now, as he was approaching, she realized it painfully well, how much she had missed him, and that her love, grew even stronger, the time they were apart. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Let me tell you, how I felt.” He continued. “I was upset, and angry, but most of all sad. I thought you loved me, as a man, and then you tell me, I’m your brother. What kind of excuse was that? I felt hurt, especially, by your running away. Did you ever thought, about confronting me on the subject? Asking me, what my family name was? Or why, I was at the engagement party, that night?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“It doesn’t matter!” She shouted, and covered her ears, while closing her eyes. Her senses, were going crazy. He was too close to her, and she could barely support herself, from falling down. Her legs were giving in, and the world was spinning, at an alarming rate. The next thing she knew was that she was felling, as light as a feather, blown by the wind. When she opened her eyes, he was there, leaning with his back, on her bed. She got up, and took her dressing gown, from the chair it was placed on, and went into the kitchen. She was terribly thirsty. On the kitchen table, there was fresh coffee made. She first, took a cup of water and gulped it down, and then she seated herself, at the table.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“I see you’re up. Good morning!” She heard a horse voice saying. Mia turned around, to see a tall man, standing at the entrance. He was the man, with the large hat, that she didn’t recognize. But still, he felt familiar. “Come on, drink up your coffee, I made it for us all.” The man said, taking a seat, at the end of the table. “Is Fred still sleeping?” She nodded. “I’m not surprised; he didn’t sleep that much, this last few weeks.” “Why?” Mia asked, her curiosity, winning over her shyness, and caution.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Why do you think? He was sick of worry.” He said, while fixing his eyes upon her. She blushed, and wanted to retort, but he didn’t give her the chance.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“So you love me?” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Excuse me?” She said, outraged at the familiarity, this man, was using on her.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Well, I’m flattered and all, but I’m afraid I’m married already.” He said, with an mischievous smirk, on his face.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“What are you talking about? I never said I love you!” She said more and more enraged.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yes you did. Although, I don’t know what you meant by, the room where we kissed, since I don’t remember ever, laying a hand, on my little sister.” She was ready to reply, when she froze.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Sister, what are you talking about?” She asked, more confused than ever.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Well, I am you brother, and you did, send me that letter through Fred.” She gasped.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“That, wasn’t for you, it was addressed to Fred.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yes. Frederick Thomas Raymond. Last time I checked, it was my name. I’m glad to see you again little sis.” He said now with a gentle smile on his face.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Wait a minute, if you are my brother, then who is Fred?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“He’s Fred, but people usually call him Mr. More.” Mia remained unmoved for a couple more minutes. “But he looks, just like the woman, in the painting, and the pendant.” He started laughing.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Of course he does, he’s her son.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Fred is her son? How? Isn’t that, our mother?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“No.” Said Fred, with a sleepy voice, from the other room. Then Fred, stepped into the kitchen, and took a seat at the table, in front of Mia. “She’s my mother, definitely.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“But, the maids said…” She started, but was interrupted by Fred.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Oh, the maids, is it? They obviously, don’t know who they were talking about.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“But, I had the pendant, from when I was a little baby.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“That’s because she was there, my mother, and you mother, were best friends. They both died in that accident.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“So, you’re not my real brother? And, she’s not my mother?” Mia asked, in a serene tone.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yes, that’s how it is.” Fred said, with his eyes, fixed on Mia. Thomas, got up from the table, and stepped outside. In the meantime Mia was trying to put everything in order. Her thoughts, and her feelings, which were jumbled up together, started to make sense. And then, she suddenly asked Fred, who was sitting quietly, drinking his coffee.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“So I can love you?” And while she said that, she gave the sweetest and most sincere smile. Fred choked and asked: <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“What?” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“What you heard.” She replied, still smiling. It was so easy to smile now, as if she was just an innocent child again.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Well, it all depends.” He said, with a grave voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Depends on what?” Mia asked, with a light tremble of worry, in her voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Depends, on whether you will run off again, leaving me behind. It wasn’t pleasant at all, you know?” He said with an upset expression on his face, looking at a corner of the kitchen, as if there was something, extremely interesting there. When she didn’t say anything in return, he turned his eyes on her. She was staying, with her head bowed, trembling, while her hands were clenched, on her dressing gown. She was saying something, with a voice so low, that he couldn’t hear it. He then, got up, and went around the table, until he was near her.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“I can’t hear, what you’re saying. Say it louder!” She then stopped talking, and after a few moments, and a deep breath, she said: “I said I’m sorry! And…” Talking was harder now, because of the tears, which were falling unstoppable. “…and, I LOVE YOU! I WANT TO STAY WITH YOU! PLEASE LET ME STAY WITH YOU!” She shouted it all, in one breath. She felt the need, to say everything, she head on her heart, to share her feelings. All she had been through, over the last few months, all the suffering, she could now let go of it. After she shouted, her feet couldn’t support her anymore, so she almost fell. But Fred was paying attention, and he grabbed her, by the waist, before falling, holding her closely to him. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“I’m sorry too.” He told her, with a soft tone. “I should have known it was hard for you too. It was mean for me to tease you. I’m sorry!” He said while clearing away her tears with his hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“So, so…I can.. love you?” She barely said that, among her sobbing, with her head leaned against his chest.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Always!” Fred replied, and took her head in his hands, and kissed her tenderly. Even her tears stopped falling, as they stayed, embraced, for a long time to come, lost in their own little world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>RC Michhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02783921567712364984noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6344346864020117566.post-10036034470403955152011-08-25T03:08:00.000-07:002014-10-05T12:29:03.975-07:00The girl with the broach<meta content="text/html; charset=utf-8" equiv="Content-Type"></meta><meta content="Word.Document" name="ProgId"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 12" name="Generator"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 12" name="Originator"></meta><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMima%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List"></link><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMima%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx" rel="themeData"></link><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMima%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml" rel="colorSchemeMapping"></link> <m:smallfrac val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin val="0"> <m:rmargin val="0"> <m:defjc val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent val="1440"> <m:intlim val="subSup"> <m:narylim val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent><style>
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</style><b style="color: #990000; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">[I would like do dedicate this story to one of my best friends, in honor of her birthday. Today 25.Aug.2009.</b><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold; line-height: 115%;"><b style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #990000;"> Happy Birthday Adela!!!] </span></b><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“This is a story, about how people can be affected by gossip, and how choosing to run away from a confrontation, can lead to sadness and misery” An old lady was telling a small group of young women. They were seated around her, anxious for her to begin relating.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“But it’s just fiction right?” I asked without hesitating.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t, you will have to decide whether to believe in it or not.” The old woman replied with a calm, monotone voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“It all started, when a baby girl, apparently named Mia, was brought to an orphanage in the middle of the night. She was found near the beach in a basket, wet and crying. The nuns at the orphanage raised her lovingly, and when she was 16, she departed in search for work.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">She was a small girl, thin, with black hair of medium length. She always kept it tied back in a ponytail. Her eyes were brightly green, and she was always with a smile on her face.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">She started working, in an aristocratic family’s house, as a kitchen helper. The pay was low, and there was always something to do, but she received food and shelter, things that were very important to her, so she was happy. She sometimes even donated a part of her pay, to the orphanage.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">One day, while the maids were doing a thorough cleaning of the house, she was sent in the attic, to carry up there some old curtains. She suddenly gasped in surprise, dropping the curtain on the dusty floor of the attic. There it was, in front of her, the same portrait, at which she gazed with love and curiosity, for so many years at the orphanage. It was the same woman, engraved on her pendant. She was given the pendant by the nuns, when she was only 4 years old. They said she was carrying with her, the pendant, when she was first brought to the orphanage. She was grasping the pendant with all her might, in her little hand, not wanting to be separated from it. She always thought that woman was her mother, and whenever she was out in town, she would always search for her, in the crowd. But she never found her. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">A couple of days later, she asked the older maids, if they knew who the woman was. They told her she was the deceased Mrs. Raymond.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Poor soul, she died with her daughter on that damn ship. And her son remained all alone at only 6 years old, good thing that his grandma took charge of him.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Where does the son live now?” Asked Mia, with impatience, trying to control herself. Feelings of joy were swelling up inside of her. She was ready to burst with laughter, at the pleasant thought that she had a brother, and that she wasn’t all alone anymore.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“I don’t know for sure, I’m pretty sure they moved away, but I don’t know where exactly.” One of the maids answered.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“I see…” Mia answered a little disappointed.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The next weeks, she tried searching for her brother, but nobody knew where he was. All that she had found out was that he was named Tomas, their grandma had died, and that he was 22 years old.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">One day, while she was out shopping for ingredients, some kids bumped into her and while falling, she clanged to the nearest support, which was a young man. Unfortunately, he was caught by surprise, and they both fell on the ground. When she came around, she was being held by the man, who looked a little puzzled.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“I’m so sorry…”Mia started to apologize vehemently, while her checks burned red. The man started laughing. Mia looked at him in surprise. What was so funny? She thought. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“It’s no problem, but do you think maybe, you could get up from on top of me?” The man asked still laughing. Mia then realized, she was still standing on him, and people were looking strangely at them. She quickly got up and arranged her skirt, looking into the ground, while her ears turned red.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“I’m sorry.” She mumbled again, after the man got up.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Like I said, it’s okay.” The man answered, while looking at her, still with a smile on his face.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Are you ok or did you get hurt?” He then asked, while the smile was slowly vanishing.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“I’m okay, thank you!” She said, while lifting her head, and looking at the man in front of her. He was a handsome man, although young, his eyes sparkled with intelligence. He had black hair, and equally black eyes. He was also tall, and beneath the clothes, you could tell he wasn’t very slim, but had a slightly muscular build.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“I’m sorry, I have to go now.” Mia said, remembering, that she still had to finish shopping.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Wait a minute!” The man said, with a light panic in his voice. “Can you tell me your name?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“My name? It’s Mia.” She said, looking a bit surprised.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Ah, I see, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to startle you.” He said, his tone shaking a little. “It’s just that for a minute…I thought you resembled someone I once knew.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Mia smiled softly. “No problem. Can I know your name now too?” She asked, with an indecisive tone.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">He smiled. “It’s Frederick, but you can call me Fred, I like it more.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Fred it is then. Nice to meet you.” Mia said, holding her hand out.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“My pleasure.” He said, while gently grabbing her hand, and laying a kiss on it. At that very moment, Mia felt a tremor, traveling down her spine, waking up all of her senses. It was a feeling of happiness and excitement, feelings, which were threatening to overflow, from every one of her pores. She gave a gibbering excuse, and rushed home. The feelings she had just experienced, were totally new to her. She didn’t know what it was, until later that week, when fate brought them back together.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">There was a party that day, the only daughter of the family, was getting engaged. Servants were preparing fervently for the party, under the strict surveillance of the head servant. Mia was sent to get the rooms ready, for some of the guests, and to check if there isn’t anything missing, that would inconvenience them.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">She was at the second floor, arranging flowers in a vase, when she heard the door open.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Excuse me…” a deep voice started to say, but when she turned, he stopped, while hesitating. “Mia…right? What are you doing here?”The man said with a surprised voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Mm, well…I work here.” She said, while giving an awkward smile. She was so happy to see him again, and at the same time embarrassed. All the time, since the first time they meet, she couldn’t get him out of her mind. She than knew on the spot, that she had fallen in love. And although the realization made her happy, she was also afraid, afraid of the unknown feelings, rising deep inside her, making her tremble. It was a ride, on an emotional roller coaster, of both joy and terror, at the realization of her sentiment.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Are you a guest here?” She asked shyly.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yes…” he answered, still staring at her.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“That must be nice.” She said dreamily. “I will be one too, if I ever find him.” She mumbled to herself.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“You will be what?” Fred asked, as if woken up from a dream. “Who do you need to find?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“I was just talking about my brother…” She said, with a mellow voice. “He’s a aristocrat.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Really?” Fred asked, with a genuine curiosity.”Can I ask what his name is?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“It’s not that important…” She said. “I don’t even know where he is, right now.” She continued with a sad tone, while lowering her head. She felt like crying. Mia realized she forgot all about her brother, after she had meet Fred. Seeing her, tremble slightly, he approached her slowly.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“What’s the matter?” He asked when he was near her. They were sitting so close, that he could see her tears falling one by one, as she was trying to stop herself, from crying out loud.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“It’s nothing, I’m sorry…” She could barely reply. She turned, and wanted to walk away. They were to close, she could even feel his breath, and smell his cologne, and it was an intoxicating emotion. But before she could even take a step away from him, Fred grabbed her arm, and without realizing it, he pulled her to him, binding her in his embrace. They stood like that, without saying anything. They were enveloped, in the darkness of the night, while live, classical music, was heard from the party, downstairs. Mia was happy, more than ever before. She knew, they couldn’t stay like this forever, but she didn’t want to be the one, to break the silence. She could feel him now; he had his arms around her, holding her tight, refusing to let go. His breath was rhythmic, and she felt his chest moving beside her, synchronizing itself, with the hard beating of his heart. She felt she could die happy now, and that greater joy, wasn’t possible in this world. The music stopped. Her heart started beating, faster and faster, all her senses were sharpened. She felt one of his hand, moving slightly, from the back of her waist, while the band, started another song. He transferred the hand, over her tense back, then on the shoulder, touching it delicately. The hand then stopped at her face, caressing her cheeks. He slowly, raised her face with his hand, until their eyes met.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The next moment, was like magic. She let out, a light gasp of surprise, before she was engulfed by the pleasure, of feeling his lips closing down on hers, at first shyly, then with hunger for her, with a passion she had never seen, or felt before. While the hand near her face was caressing her hair, the other hand, was pulling her closer to him; as if he was afraid, she would escape him. It was heaven. She abandoned herself, to the fire she was feeling in her heart. She put her hands around him, and returned his kisses, with all the warmth, and courage, she could muster.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">They stayed in this embrace, for an unknown period of time, neither wanted to let the other go, or to ruin the magic of the moment. After a while, voices were heard, in the hallway, they suddenly remembered where they were. They had to return, to reality. Fred then looked at her, closely, trying to engrave in his memory, every little detail of her being. She just stood there, still a little muzzy, trying to figure out, her feelings and thoughts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>RC Michhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02783921567712364984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6344346864020117566.post-51924461046918687832011-08-17T01:38:00.000-07:002014-10-05T12:29:12.241-07:00The mysterious man (Part VII) - The end<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link style="font-family: georgia;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMima%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><link style="font-family: georgia;" rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMima%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"><link style="font-family: georgia;" rel="colorSchemeMapping" 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{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >After about half an hour she felt something cold and wet on her face. She opened her eyes and saw Keith, who was standing at her bedside, with a wet towel, gently rubbing her cheeks.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >She rose slowly and Keith jumped up from the chair and helped her, putting more pillows under her back.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“How do you feel?” he asked. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Fine, I think… what happened?” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“You fainted at the cemetery”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Ah, I see…the girl didn’t die in the accident right?” She felt him flinch and felt the tension in the air. She was a little uncomfortable but she didn’t say anything, just waited for a response. Meanwhile Keith had turned pale, but he knew this was the right time to tell her the truth.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Drink some orange juice first”, he said, and gave her a glass with freshly squeezed orange juice. She took two gulps from it before passing it back to him. Seeing that she was done, he took the glass, put it down, and answered:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Yes…it’s true”.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“You saved her didn’t you? From the plane crash, before the plane exploded…”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Yes…but…” and before he could finish his sentence she asked:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Why didn’t you tell me all this time? Caroline is me, right?” He looked at her with a pained look on his face and replied:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Because you chose not to remember, and the doctor said not to force you…and besides, if I could help it, I would have liked for you to remain Elisa.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Why?” she asked with a choked voice<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Because then you wouldn’t have to remember all you went through, and you could have lived happily…I still remember how miserable you were the days that followed the accident, and how you didn’t wanted to eat, or drink anything, and just stood there, in your room, staring into space…and at night you would wake up screaming for your parents, and wouldn’t calm down unless I held you in my arms for a few hours…so, after you blocked your memories, you were happy again, smiling and playing, eating normally…That’s when the Romanov family, who were good friends of your parents, decided to tell you that they were your parents and raise you accordingly.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >She couldn’t say anything anymore; she just stood there in the bed, and listened, while big heavy tears were running down her cheeks. Keith continued:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“So it was decided to let you live your life without knowing who your real parents were.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >She raised her head and looked at him.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Who decided that? Who gave you the right?” He looked away and continued.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“I know…I know… I’m really sorry, I tried to make you remember. That’s why I sent you to research your family. But there were others who didn’t agree you should be told the truth. Like the Romanov…” She stared at him and asked:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Was this what you meant when you said you would make me suffer? You helped me remember in the end, so why did you say that?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >He looked at her and with a low voice he said:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“You remember that I was in the plane, right? Then, you cried and begged me to go get your parents, but your father<span style=""> </span>and mother told me to get you to a safe place, and asked me not to return, so I listened to them… but now I think that if I had made an effort, I could have saved at least one of them…”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >She looked at him to see that his eyes were red and he was restraining his tears.<span style=""> </span>She took his head in her palms and gently kissed him on the forehead.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Thank you!” she said “You saved me twice already. It’s ok, you did all you could, and I know how much you being near has helped me, so thank you!”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >She hugged him as hard as she could and Keith returned the hug. They kept their embrace for a long time, and then they fell asleep still holding hands.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >THE END<o:p></o:p></span></p>RC Michhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02783921567712364984noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6344346864020117566.post-86838363797863674362011-08-17T01:35:00.000-07:002014-10-05T12:29:28.137-07:00The mysterious man (Part VI)<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link style="font-family: georgia;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMima%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><link style="font-family: georgia;" rel="themeData" 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style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" >A few days later, while she was at school, she overheard two teachers talking about the Lytton family.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" >“You know, I heard they finally discovered why the plane crashed, and apparently it was a clock bomb on one of the turbines. It’s said they were targeting the Lytton family.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" >“And they surely did a good job since all three of them died. poor souls; To think it was just because some people couldn’t handle the jealousy! But oh, petty people do petty things.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" >Hearing this, Elisa thought about going again to the Lytton house, but she decided it would be better to wait some more and meet with Keith again.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" >A few days later, while she was going to town, looking for a magazine for her aunt, she saw Keith buying some flowers from a shop on the corner, and then getting back into a car. She tried to follow it but she was on foot, so she thought about the places he could go in the direction that the car went. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" ><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" >The only place she knew that way was the cemetery where her parents were buried, and since he was carrying flowers, it was likely that he had gone to visit the grave. So she started walking to the cemetery. When she there, she went directly to the grave of her parents, but he wasn’t there, so after saying a prayer she wanted to go out to its other side of it, and while walking on the main path, she saw in the distance a man, dressed in a back suit, with black hair, kneeling before two graves, who had fresh flowers on them. She approached him silently, and when she was a few steps away from him, she read the names engraved on the grave. It said: Thomas Lytton and Stephanie Lytton and between them, there was a little tomb with the name Caroline Lytton. Seeing this, she suddenly felt dizzy, her feet grew limp and then all went black around her.</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>RC Michhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02783921567712364984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6344346864020117566.post-64365702014932357672011-08-15T16:08:00.000-07:002014-10-05T12:29:37.610-07:00The mysterious man (Part V)<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link style="font-family: georgia;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMima%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><link style="font-family: georgia;" rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMima%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"><link style="font-family: georgia;" rel="colorSchemeMapping" 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{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">Mama? Papa? What’s the matter? Why aren’t you getting up?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">It’s okay Carol, just go with him, we’ll come later too. Now be a good girl and listen to what he says.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">Looking up she sees a pair of green eyes filled with tears, a young boy was grabbing her tightly by the waist, and pulling her away from two people who were crying too.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">While she’s struggling to break free from the clasp of the boy, she’s shouting through her tears : <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">What’s happening? Why must I go? No…I don’t want too... Mama, papa, let me go! <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">But it’s all in vain, and the boy is dragging her further away. Just then, a loud noise startles her and she sees red flames embracing a white shell and a thick black smoke rising up from it, obstructing the sun, making it seem like the middle of the night. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">She abruptly rose from her bed and with tears still in her eyes she looked around frightened, trying to figure out where she was. After a minute or so, she calmed down a little, got out of bed, and walked to the kitchen to get herself a cup of water. After she poured herself some water she heard branches snapping outside so she turned off the light and looked out the living room window. There was a shadow lurking in the dark, turning in circles around the house. She woke up completely, took a knife from the kitchen cupboard and she went out the back door, slowly, making her way to the shadow. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">But as she approached it, she realized it was the mysterious man, so she left the knife fall down and ran to him, hugging him from behind. He jumped in surprise and violently shook her off, and she fell on her bottom, letting out a small cry. After he realized it was her he quickly helped her up, by taking her by the waist and pulling her up, and draw her to his chest for a few seconds before letting her go.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">She looked at him pouting and said: “What manners, you should know better than to treat a lady like this!” He started laughing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“What lady? You were the one that almost pushed me down from behind” She smiled.“Well, I missed you a little.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“Well, I’m flattered… and a little glad.” He replied. They both started laughing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“So what are you doing here at night?” She asked looking curiously at him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“Oh, I was just in the neighborhood, and decided to see if anyone was still awake, and then I heard some noise from the garden and was checking it out.” He said, while avoiding to look at her. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“But what are you doing at this hour of the night still awake?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“Oh, I had a terrifying nightmare, and came down to get a glass of water, when I saw you in the garden.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“What was the dream about?” he asked jokingly? “A dream where you couldn’t eat your dessert?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“No! If you really want to know it was a really scary dream. I was crying when a boy was pulling me away from a sea of fire and smoke, and I think my parents were in there…”, she said, and the some tears fell involuntary from her eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">The man froze for a second, then seeing her cry, he took her in his arms, and patted her head gently, while hiding his face in her disheveled hair. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“It’s ok, everything is alright, I’m here” he said gently. Cry all you want…” And for a few minutes they didn’t say anything anymore. After she calmed down she asked: <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“Why?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“Why what?” he replied<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“Why are you so kind to me? Why did you send me searching for the Lytton family? What connection do they have to my family?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, wondering how to answer her questions and weather she was really ready to know the truth? While hesitating, she looked at him trying to read his expressions, and then she suddenly asked:<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style=""> </span>“Is your name still unimportant? Cause I want to know what you are called.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“Well, it really isn’t important to know my name but if you ask me to introduce myself, I can’t say no to such a cute young lady as yourself.” Then he smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style=""> </span>“You can call me Keith.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“Keith, nice name, and I don’t know why, but it fells familiar.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“Yes, well it should, you used to always call for me”.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“I did? When?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“A long time ago, long before you even knew me...” And then he didn’t say anything else. She just sat there and thought of the words he had said, and what they could mean.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">Was it possible she had known him before she was 10? If so, why<span style=""> </span>couldn’t she remember?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“Can I ask you something now?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“Sure!” she said being only half attentive to what he was saying.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“Six years ago, why were you out on the street? Who were you searching for?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">She then turned to him surprised and said: “Well I saw something moving in the garden, and I thought it was Joe, the driver, and I followed him with the intention to scare him, but then he just disappeared, and I got a little lost” and she smiled at the memory.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">He started laughing. “Ah, yes, Joe, same stature.” She looked confused at this answer, but then suddenly she realized, Keith had the same height and build as Joe, so it was very possible she confused them, and she was really following Keith. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“So…it was you that night? The one that I followed?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“Well yes…” and he kept smiling. She blushed slightly, then continued:<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“But then what were you doing at my house?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“Oh I just had a little conversation with your father. And I was on my way back to my house.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“I didn’t know you knew my parents…” she said<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“Yes, well, you didn’t see me coming to your house, so of course you didn’t know about me.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">Elisa wanted to say something but before she could do it, they heard noises coming from the house.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“I think it’s time I left, looks like your aunt is up.” As he said that, he slightly bent forward and kissed her forehead. “Next time we meet I might bring you suffering, so I’ll say I’m sorry now.” And he left. She remained there, with a blank stare, until her aunt saw her and came screaming at her.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“What do you think you are doing little miss? Have you gone mad? It’s not ladylike to go outside the house dressed like this, and not healthy either. What if someone saw you or you caught another cold? Go back to your bed right now!” <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">She looked at her aunt and nodded, then she went upstairs and got into bed, but she didn’t sleep, just stood there with her eyes open, thinking of what Keith had said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“Why suffer? Did something bad happen? He’s still a mysterious man for me, just when I feel like I’m beginning to understand him, he says something which confuses me even more.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">And while thinking, she finally fell in a heavy sleep, to recover the sleep lost thru the night.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>RC Michhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02783921567712364984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6344346864020117566.post-12389306807347618162011-08-14T02:02:00.000-07:002014-10-05T12:29:50.913-07:00The mysterious man (Part IV)<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link style="font-family: georgia;" 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style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" >A few weeks passed with nothing unusual happening, and the mysterious man was nowhere in sight. On day Elisa received by mail a box wrapped in colorful paper and a green ribbon on top, addressed to her but with no sender’s address. Luckily for her, there was no one at home when the package arrived so she could move the box to her room unnoticed. She hurriedly opened the box and inside she found a white teddy bear dressed with a checkered green and red vest and pants, and an envelope. She opened the envelope and found inside a black and white picture of a couple with two kids; one was a baby in the arms of the lady and the other was a boy around 10 years old smiling happily while looking at the camera, standing in front of them; and a man standing beside the woman had his left hand on the boys shoulder and was smiling happily.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" >This box brought with it a new series of question: Who was the couple in the picture? Did they have any connection to her? And what was it that the mysterious man wanted to tell her?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" >After thinking throughout the night and meditating on her next step, by morning she had decided, so she went to her old house, and climbing the staircase, she entered the attic. There were lot of old objects, and cases, and after inspecting a little the content of the attic and the order of it she started looking for old picture albums and letters.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" >After 4 hours of searching through<span style=""> </span>the dust, rags and a couple of falling boxes, she finally found, in a small casket, a picture of the couple, together with her parents, when they were younger. This was the connection she had searched for, the relation between the two couples and naturally, between her and that couple. She turned the picture, and on the back there was a date, 8 July 1985, and four initials: H&J and T&S.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" >She knew immediately that H&J were the initials of her parents, and T&S were the persons to whom the necklace belonged, namely Thomas and Stephanie. So now she needed to find out more about the T&S couple. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" >Said and done, the next day she went to the library and searched through the newspaper archives for the names, where she found several stories but only one attracted her interest. It was about an airplane crash, and several deaths which included Sir Thomas L and Madame Stephanie L as well as their girl. Miss Caroline L age 5. The article was the following:<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" >“Yesterday, at 11 o’clock in the morning, a terrible accident ended the lives of several people including the distinguished Sir Thomas and Madame Stephanie L, along with their little girl Miss Caroline L, of only 5, as well as the copilot, Mr. Seth M. and a pregnant lady called Catherine S., coming from Italy. The plane started experiencing problems as it was approaching the landing site, when the turbine suddenly exploded sending the plane in free fall, towards the lake near the airport. Authorities are still investigating the causes of the technical problems experienced, and might be suspecting foul play.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" >This was probably the Lytton family she had heard her aunt and uncle talk about. But the newspaper clearly stated that the girl, Caroline,<span style=""> </span>had died along with her parents, so why was the mysterious man looking for her? Or was it just a rumor that he was searching for her? Regardless, she found it most likely that these were<span style=""> </span>he people she had seen in that picture<span style=""> </span>with their children. And if the girl was the only one who had died, that meant that the boy was still alive. But could she be certain that the boy in the picture was really the son of the Lytton family? There was no mentioning of the Lytton’s having a son.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" >More days pasted as she was turning in her head all that she had found out, and everything was leading to the Lytton family and the boy in the picture remained a mystery. She decided to conduct some investigations on<span style=""> </span>the mansion of the Lytton family, so one afternoon, after asking people were the Lytton’s used to live, she noted the address and didn’t wait long to go there. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" >It was a mighty mansion, seated in the middle of a vast yard, which was framed by an imposing, black wrought iron fence, with flowers sculpted on it; on equal bases there were pointed spikes meant to discourage trespassing, and these were covered by vines usually called traveler’s joy, while the little white flowers blocked half the view of the garden. The mansion’s grandness was emphasized by its simplicity, illustrating neo-Georgian architecture, it was a structure at which people turned their heads, admiring its beautiful and imposing build. The garden was clean, with beds of dark-red roses, surrounded by trimmed hedges, which formed a circle, and in its center there was an old cast marble fountain with sparkling water gushing from the center of it, forming a beautiful view. Next to them, there was a road especially made for vehicles , and further away there were two marble bird baths.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" >Elisa approached the fence and while looking through the vines she saw the main door open and a man came out, in an expensive suit, got inside a car, and left the house through the giant cast iron gate that closed heavily after them. When the car passed Elisa, she could distinguish through the window in the back seat a raven-black head bowed over a newspaper. She knew who that was, and she realized what that meant: him, the mystery man, was the son of the Lytton. But why did he guide her through all this information? Something wasn’t clicking together. What was she missing, what was the piece of vital information that she lacked?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" >She then approached the iron gate and tried to open it, but it was tightly shut. Out of nowhere, an old man, wearing a black tailcoat, enquired on the purpose of her presence there.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" >“I am looking for the young master of this house” replied Elisa.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" >“Young master?” the man said surprised, “Unfortunately the young master died a long time ago along with his family. There is only Sir Earl now.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" >“Ah I see, but then who was the man in the car?” she inquired.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" >“I’m sorry I can’t tell you that, and it’s better if you don’t ask so many questions little miss, or people may think you’re up to no good”, the man said. “Well have a safe trip home, goodbye!” and he turned and left, entering the house.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" >“Hmm, are they just hiding things or is my suspicion wrong? It seems that, after all, the<span style=""> </span>only way for me to get the answer is to talk to the mysterious man and ask him.” She turned on her heels and walked back home, determined to give it more thought the following day. .<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>RC Michhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02783921567712364984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6344346864020117566.post-29537438092310918092011-08-13T02:19:00.000-07:002014-10-05T12:30:16.179-07:00The mysterious man (Part III)<meta content="text/html; charset=utf-8" equiv="Content-Type"></meta><meta content="Word.Document" name="ProgId"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 12" name="Generator"></meta><meta content="Microsoft Word 12" name="Originator"></meta><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMima%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List" style="font-family: georgia;"></link><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMima%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx" rel="themeData" style="font-family: georgia;"></link><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMima%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml" rel="colorSchemeMapping" style="font-family: georgia;"></link> <m:smallfrac val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin val="0"> <m:rmargin val="0"> <m:defjc val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent val="1440"> <m:intlim val="subSup"> <m:narylim val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent><style>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">Time flew. Two years had already passed since her parents died. She was now 16 years old. She had grown taller, more feminine, but her blond hair had preserved the same pure color she had had as a child, soft and shining, with the curls falling over her shoulders down to her waist. She usually wore hear hair in a pony tail at the back or the side of her head, while some rebellious curls framed her face, outlining the shape and color of her eyes</span>.<span style="line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">She was a good student, friendly with everyone, and helpful; younger kids admired her, and older people respected her, for she was always kind and objective in resolving a situation. Still, she didn’t have any good friends, because unconscious</span><span class="illustration">ly</span><span style="line-height: 150%;"> she isolated her heart and didn’t trust anyone, not even family, and when someone got too close to her she pushed them away.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">She didn’t forget about the mysterious man, and sometimes she would go out at night hoping he would appear, but he didn’t, they hadn’t met once since the last time, so that it was like he didn’t even existed, and only the two handkerchiefs were proof of his existence.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">One day, having just returned from school, she overheard her aunt and uncle talking in the kitchen.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“I heard the boy is working for him, he made a little fortune for himself that scoundrel; imagine what would have happened to Elisa if she had really been left with him. He would suck all the money dry from her,” her uncle said. Elisa stood there still, without making any noise, concentrating to hear every word that was spoken. “Well she doesn’t get any money till she’s 20, so I don’t think he could have done anything to get his hands on the money, imagine the impertinence, demanding to let her live with him, saying that her parents wanted that, God rest their souls, they would turn in the grave at such horrific idea. He didn’t even know the names of her parents, said it was Lytton, can you imagine that? It’s disrespectful to the Lytton too, poor Earl, having your kid with his wife and grandchild die in an airplane crash, a real tragedy. And he even approached her when she was little, her parents told me, I understand their worry…” And her aunt would have kept going on and on but their son just then came home and entered the kitchen. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">Elisa went up to her room quietly so they wouldn’t hear her, opened the drawer from her nightstand and took out the white handkerchiefs, sat down the bed, and started processing what she just heard. Was the mysterious man the one her aunt and uncle were talking about? Is it possible he was confusing her with someone else? So all the time that he helped her, it should have been another person, not her? This line of thoughts made her sad but she couldn’t tell why.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“And why would they say he’s only after money, he isn’t that kind of person, I just know that,” she said as to encourage herself, it’s all a misunderstanding, “And if he really was only after the money, he wouldn’t have to bother with me, after all…like uncle said, I’ll only be able to get my money in four years time, the little something my parents left me, which isn’t really a fortune …”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">From that day onward, Elisa started to be more attentive to the people and events happening around her, and one day, when she was coming home from school, she saw a familiar figure walking on the little streets between houses and shops. Without giving much thought to what she was doing, she went after him, on the little streets, further away from the main stream of people buzzing on the street, until she lost sight of him, when he turned a corner and vanished. But in the place he disappeared, there was a little musical box and an envelope on which it was written: “For Elisa”. She took the musical box, the envelope and went home, and silently climbed the staircases and entered her room, where she excitedly opened the envelope. Inside she found a green card on which it was written: “Blood will out”. What did he mean? Putting the card away, she took the music box and opened it. It was lined with green silk inside and there was a ballerina that started dancing as soon as she opened the box. The melody the box played was familiar, she knew it, but couldn’t remember the name exactly. Inside the music box there was also a silver necklace, with a rhombic shape, and in it a green stone shaped as a tear. When turning the necklace, on the back of it, she saw the gravure of two initials: T and S. Was this for her too? It was time she started getting some answers to all these questions.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">She first went to the music teacher of her class, to ask her about the song. When she found out the name of the song was “Fur Elise” she couldn’t stop a smile. Next were the initials, she thought hard how she could identify them and the best idea she had was to at least start searching for names starting with those initials, so when she got back home from school, she opened a drawer from her writing desk and got out a little black notebook, which she started carrying with her everywhere she went, and when she remembered or heard a name with those initials she would note it down on it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">So days passed and the notebook got more and more names and Elisa still had no clue how to filter through them. Near Christmas time, Elisa started to feel sick, and it got to the point where she came down with the flu and a fever on Christmas Eve. Her aunt and uncle together with their son went to the annual Christmas party, and she remained at home in bed; a neighbor was supposed to come and check on her from time to time, but she was too busy with her own family to find the time for that . <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">Suddenly her fever rose, and she started tossing in the bed, coughing violently until finally she calmed down and fell into a state of semi consciousness. After what seemed like a few hours to her, she felt a cold touch on her forehead, and slightly opening her eyes she saw through a thick fog, a pair of concerned green eyes looking at her. She closed her eyes again and concentrated all of her senses on the cold hand touching her forehead, the familiar feeling which relaxed her, and the joy it brought, just by being there, was almost overwhelming. After a few minutes, vacillating between consciousness and sleep, she felt a warm touch on her lips, and soon a liquid thicker than water, a little bitter, was flowing in her mouth and then easily down her neck. She could feel a wellness sensation growing in her, from her stomach to her hands and head, and then she fell into a deep sleep. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">She woke up only the next day, at noon, felling better. She could eat and even rise from the bed for a little, which was a very good sign. She asked when they came back, but they said it was only in the morning, so she believed that the person who helped her in the night was none other than the mysterious man. But why did he come here? Did he have something to tell her? She started looking at her room, to see if he didn’t left anything for her, but she couldn’t find anything, then, suddenly, she got an idea , so she jumped out of bed and reached to her writing desk, where the black notebook was, and flipped through it in rush. She was right, he did leave her something, there were two names underlined: Thomas and Stephanie. So these were the names that she had been searching for. But who were these persons and what connection do they have with her or the mysterious man? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">Since the little visit of the mysterious man was real and not just a dream, it was enough for her for now, knowing he had come to see her. That meant she wasn’t indifferent to him, although he had probably realized that she wasn’t the one he thought, the daughter of the Lytton. But if he had, was he still acting the same to her, as he would have done with the Lytton heiress? Was he being as gentle and attentive with her too? At that moment she started wishing she was the girl of the Lytton family or that the girl really had died in that plane crash.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: georgia; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></div>RC Michhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02783921567712364984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6344346864020117566.post-28184053012524367402011-08-12T03:48:00.000-07:002014-10-05T12:30:43.820-07:00The mysterious man (Part II)<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link style="font-family: georgia;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMima%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><link 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and on Elisa’s 14<sup>th</sup> birthday, while she was getting dresses for the party that<span style=""> </span>was scheduled to start in about two hours, a maid came to give<span style=""> </span>her a piece of news that changed her life forever. Her parents had been in a car accident, and were now in the hospital. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">The days passed in frenzy and on the 3<sup>rd</sup> day Elisa’s parents died, at an hour distance one from the other. The relatives arranged for Elisa to live with her aunt and her family after the funeral.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">Her aunt’s name was Charlotte. She was a short stocky woman, who took care of the household, while her husband was chubby and bold, and owned a construction company. They had a son who, unlike his parents, was slim and pretty tall for his 12 years, and who liked to study, being an overachiever.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">On the day of the funeral rain was pouring down, and the ski remained closed even through the night. After the funeral, Elisa was to move to her aunts house, so after all the people were gone, she went up to her parents room and took her time looking at everything very attentively so as to imprint the memory of the room in her brain, each detail having a memory attached to it. In the end she fell asleep on her parents bed. When the clock stroked 2 Elisa opened her eyes slowly, rose from the bed, descended the stairs, went out the door without even putting on her shoes, and started walking down the street. She fell down but got back up and kept walking till she arrived at a cemetery, the one where her parents were buried. When approaching their grave, she saw a shadow crouched at their tomb. Uncertain at first she approached the stranger by the grave. When he saw her he rose and walked away. She passed her parents grave and tried to cry out for him, but her mouth just wouldn’t open. All of a sudden, he turned around and looked at her, then approached her slowly. When she saw him coming towards her, her feet gave out and she fell on her bottom. Unable to say anything she just stayed down and kept looking at him as waiting for him to wake her up from the nightmare. When he reached her, he kneeled down in front of her, took a white handkerchief with green lacing and bandaged her right palm which was injured from her falling down on the street on the way here.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“You should get that disinfected” he said in a low voice while looking at the hand. She still didn’t said anything, just looked at the bandaged hand and nodded.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“Are you ok?”he asked, still avoiding to look<span style=""> </span>into her eyes. Elisa didn’t say anything, just grabbed his hand and squeezed it, and slowly tears began to fall, one after the other, until she started sobbing violently. She wanted to talk, to tell him all that had happened to her, but she just couldn’t stop crying.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“It’s ok now, cry as much as you want, it will ease your pain” and he hugged her and stroke her hair gently until she fell asleep in his embrace. When he noticed that she had fallen asleep, he took her in his arms and carried her in the direction of her house.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“What am I going to do with you now?” he asked while looking at her, while some tears were still dropping heavily on her cheeks.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style=""> </span>“Mama? Papa? Where are you?” she mumbled.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">Hearing her, a tear started making its way from his eye on to the cheek<span style=""> </span>and dropped from his chin. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“Poor child, what a sad destiny she has, always having to say goodbye to her most loved ones. Will I only bring her suffering? Should I really awaken her memories or let them sleep undisturbed?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">While walking down the street, the sun started showing it’s rays, and finally they were at her house.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“Elisa, come on, wake up”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“Mother? Let me sleep a little more…”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">“Elisa, it’s time to move, come on, be a good girl and wake up”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">Elisa suddenly opened her eyes and looked around, but before she could awaken entirely she felt her eyes heavy and a<span style=""> </span>strong headache quickly set in. She quickly closed her eyes so the sun couldn’t hurt them, then opened them slowly and looked around her felling at a loss. She was in her room, in her bed, but she remembered falling asleep in her parents room, how<span style=""> </span>had she ended up back in her room? When she decided to listen to her aunt and get up, she felt something falling from her hand. It was the white handkerchief, which she had received from that man when she was only 10, but why was it in her hand? Then she began remembering what had happened the night before, but it was all hazy and her headache didn’t subside at all so she postponed it till later. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:12pt;" ><span style="font-size:100%;">She got out of the bed, washed her face, got dressed in her black dress and started packing up her clothes one by one, all the while remembering how she had bought each of them with her mother and how her dad had always praised her, and told her how beautiful she was. After about an hour her luggage was ready and her uncle was loading it in the truck of the car. She took her time and looked one last time at her room, and she noticed something red under the pillow. It was the white handkerchief stained with blood. Then she remembered the cemetery, and the man, whom she called the mysterious man, and her crying in his arms and falling asleep. The memories of the previous night made her blush slightly, and then she even smiled for a</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">brief moment at the thought that maybe destiny was bringing her and the mysterious man together when she needed him the most. She had really felt</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">much better after she had cried her hearth out, and she was glad it was him who saw her and not some stranger or someone from her family. Then she realized she didn’t remember how she got home, or in her bed. She only remembered a light touch on her forehead and some words that didn’t make any sense to her: “let memories sleep undisturbed”. Were those words addressed to her or was there someone else around who talked to the mysterious man and she just heard them? Vainly she tried to remember more, it didn’t work, so she took the blood stained handkerchief, shoved it in her pocket and went downstairs when her aunt started calling her.</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>RC Michhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02783921567712364984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6344346864020117566.post-59115744818898128222011-08-10T07:09:00.000-07:002014-10-05T12:30:55.909-07:00The mysterious man (Part I)<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link style="font-family: georgia;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMima%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><link style="font-family: georgia;" rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMima%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"><link style="font-family: georgia;" 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mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >It was Christmas Eve, there was a lot of food and drinks, spread over a long table, tempting with the multicolored presentation and flagrant smell; on another table there was a mountain of cookies and cakes as well as a chocolate fountain which was surrounded by marshmallows on the sides, and music was heard on the balcony mixed with peoples voices, and from time to time, coming from the street, with a hum of voices and carols getting louder and then softly disappearing, as groups of family and friends were<span style=""> </span>passing in the front of the house.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >Inside the house there was a big commotion, servants running everywhere, like little bees next to a beehive, catering to the needs of the guests. The latter were laughing and dancing, some out on the balcony with their sweethearts, others, gathered in groups, were telling stories of other Christmas holidays and funny happenings from the<span style=""> </span>previous year’s party; meanwhile, some old people had gathered together and started discussing their grandchildren’s hope for the future and how good things had been<span style=""> </span>when they were young, reminiscing their youth.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >When seen from afar, the house had all the lights on and shined brightly like the stars on the sky, illuminating a part of the street much more than the street lights. At about 12 o’clock one could have seen a shadow entering the yard, and swiftly entering the back door of the house. Then, after half an hour, the same shadow went from the door, through the yard, and out the gate, but this time, unaware of its pursuer. Following them, we arrived at a dark corner of an alley, where the unknown shadow, finally realizing he was being followed, hid after a corner, until its pursuer stopped and looked around puzzled. When a car passed the street, he could see his pursuer was only a little girl, at around age 10, with blonde curly hair, and blue eyes that sparked with life. Dressed in a crimson red dress she seemed like a porcelain doll out of the shelf of a toy store. Her small body looked even flimsier under the moon light, like at the most gentle touch she could break and shatter into little pieces, and her skin was as white as snow, with a pinch of red in the cheeks because of the cold wind.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >She looked around for a few minutes then started walking on the street in front of her. He waited for her to be a little further then started following her. While walking behind her, as he passed several street lights, you could see he was a man around the age of 20, with black hair and blue eyes which shone with intelligence and a slim build, moving gracefully in a suit that looked especially made to fit him perfectly. The girl started to quicken the pace, looking desperate as she passed streets she didn’t recognized and going down a road with fewer lights and no people in sight. Realizing what had happened the man took a turn and dropped the cape in a corner, then started walking on a street right towards the girl, until he became visible to her. Seeing a person the girl stopped and tried to distinguish the man in front of her, but due to the scarcity of light she couldn’t see him well, so she approached him shyly until she was standing in front of him. Then she said:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Excuse me sir, I believe I’m a little lost, could you please tell me how to reach the main boulevard from here?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >He stared a little at her and then smiling faintly he answered:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Yes, of course, little lady, I will lead you back…but can I ask what you are doing at such a late hour without an escort in this neighborhood? Are you perhaps looking for someone?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Ah no!” she quickly replied while looking at the ground, “I was just taking a walk and I got a little lost…”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Ah, I see,” he said smiling, “Next time you should ask someone to accompany you, missy, when you go on a walk so you won’t get a “little” lost.” And he started laughing.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >The girl turned red and replied:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Oh never mind, I can find my way back alone, I’m sorry I disturbed you sir.” And she started walking fast moving away from him, swinging her fists furiously through the air.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >Still chuckling he started after her and when he was at her right side he said: <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t intended to offend you, it was just some advice, please let me escort you back”.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >She turned to him while walking but before she could reply anything she tripped and fell on the ground, grazing her knee. A few seconds passed till she realized what had just happened, and as tears was starting to ooze down her face, the man got out a white handkerchief with green lacing and after handing it to her, he picked her up in his arms and started walking slowly on to the main boulevard, without saying anything, while she was hiding her face in the handkerchief, she was desperately trying to retain her tears from falling. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“You should cry if it hurts”, the man said when they reached the main boulevard, “and after you finish crying stand up and raise your head, and walk forward no matter the<span style=""> </span>what.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >She looked up at him and said in a trembling voice: <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“You can put me down now, we reached the main boulevard and I can walk on my own now, I’m sorry for such a shameful presentation.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“It’s ok” he said smiling, “I’ll escort you all the way to the house since it was my fault you tripped” She looked at him confused for a few seconds and then started laughing.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“How was it your fault?” she asked, “It was my clumsiness that was at fault, if anything you helped me, so please accept my thank you”.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >He looked at her a little in awe and then started laughing.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" ><span style=""> </span>“You really don’t act like a little girl” he said. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Why do you say that?” she asked. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Well you are too polite and restrained, you should laugh and cry more easily” he replied. She stared a little at him and then exclaimed:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“But a real Lady doesn’t do things like that!”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >He started laughing even harder. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Ah, I see…”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >She pouted and looked away. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“That’s more like it” he said while looking gently at her.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >Despite herself, she smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Can I ask your name?” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“It’s Elisa” she answered, “Elisa Romanov. What’s yours if I may ask?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Oh, my name is not of such importance” he said looking a little sad.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“But…” she started but he interrupted her: “We’re here” he said looking at her parents coming before them in the yard.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >Her mother, Joan was a small thin woman, around the age of 35, with brown hair and brown eyes, dressed in a blue silk dress that accentuated her paleness, while her dad, Henry was a sturdy man, with brown hair and blue eyes, a thick beard and a mustache to go with, dressed in a black suit, custom made; you could tell he had a good lineage and was well educated.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Where have you been?” the mother asked while she was hugging Elisa, “You just disappeared, and you know it’s dangerous to go out alone at night,”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“It’s ok mother, this sir helped me back, I was just taking a walk when I got a little lost” she said and looked at the man but he wasn’t looking back, he was staring at her father, and even Elisa could feel some tension between them.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >When the mother looked up at the man she froze, and didn’t said anything anymore. Elisa was confused, why were her parents acting like this? Was there something wrong?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Nice to meet you, but I’m afraid I have to leave now, I’m expected somewhere else”, the man said after a few moments of awkward silence, and left without saying anything else.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Hey wait!” Elisa shouted, “You didn’t tell me your name”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >He stopped and turned around “I told you it’s not important” and smiling he left and disappeared at the end of the road.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >After a few seconds, Henry took Elisa in his arms, and asked trying to sound casual:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“What did you talk about with that man?” Then Elisa told her parents how she had met him, and what they had talked about.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >That next day Henry and Joan were having a conversation in the living room, while drinking their coffee. Elisa had just woken up and went down to greet them, but before entering the room she suddenly stopped when she heard her parent’s grave voice. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“We should have been more careful, we can’t risk her finding the truth, it will only make her suffer,” her mother said while grabbing the cup of coffee that had gone cold.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Yes, I didn’t think he would try to approach her, since he had agreed himself<span style=""> </span>it was not a good thing to shock her, but maybe he’s thinking of taking her with him” he said while holding a cigar between his index and middle finger.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“But he can’t, right? She would be even more confused and could start asking questions, then how could we answer her?” she said in a crying tone.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >But before he could answer anything one of the maids walked in carrying with her more hot coffee. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >Elisa decided to make use of the interruption and made her way to her mother’s chair.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Good morning mother, father!”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >Her parents jerked a little but it remained unnoticed by Elisa.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Ah good morning dear, did you sleep well?” her mother asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Yes” she answered. “I’m going to have breakfast and go in the garden for some fresh air afterwards.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Ok honey, don’t go out of the garden please, we wouldn’t want you to get lost again” her mother said, smiling.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 28.35pt; line-height: 150%; font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:100%;" >“Yes mother” she answered and left. Something wasn’t right, she thought, but after a few days passed and nothing new happened, she even forgot about the conversation she had heard. Everything was as always, normal days, filled with happiness.<o:p></o:p></span></p>RC Michhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02783921567712364984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6344346864020117566.post-80706792159764985152011-08-04T06:57:00.000-07:002014-10-05T12:31:06.312-07:00Welcome to my first blog!<span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > I hope you will enjoy my stories as much as I did creating them.<br />
<br />
For my first post I will tell you a little about myself. My name is Mihaela and I'm 21 years old. I reside in Romania, and at the moment I'm a student at the North University, studying Romanian and English language and literature.<br />
<br />
My hobbies include reading novels and mangas, watching animes, listening to music, and of course creative writing.<br />
<br />
Favorite authors are:<br />
</span><ul><li><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >Alexandre Dumas (both father and son);</span></li>
<li><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >Margaret Mitchell;</span></li>
<li><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >Paul Feval.</span></li>
</ul><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >Favorite books are:<br />
</span><ul><li><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > The three musketeers (all the volumes);</span></li>
<li><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Gone with the wind;</span></li>
<li><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Humpback;</span></li>
<li><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > The Heiress of New Orleans.</span></li>
</ul><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" > Favorite music is mainly rock and other genres that revolve around it.<br />
<br />
Although my native language is Romanian, I prefer writing in English because I wish that many people can read and enjoy my work, regardless of their nationality.<br />
<br />
The first short story that I will post here is about a girl and what happens to her over the years, after she meets a mysterious man. Her background starts to be uncovered, and old wounds open.</span>RC Michhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02783921567712364984noreply@blogger.com0