Okay, so it's been a while. Many months. Mainly cause I've mostly been posting on my shiny new lj (which is no longer particularly shiny or new).
So. News. I have an exam on Thursday. I really should study tomorrow, so I really ought to be asleep. I'm not, obvs. Oh well. It's only 39 questions, and 30 of them are multiple choice, and I only have to get a minimum of 34 correct, if I remember correctly from my earlier calculations. I suspect it'll take about an hour, and then I'll have three weeks before school starts.
Also: Birthday soon. Woot. I...am really not that excited. I stopped caring about my birthday very much sometime before I turned 13. Presents are nice though. I should get a couple Doctor Who related things from my grandparents, aunt, and possibly my friend. My Amazon Wishlist is almost entirely made up of Doctor Who stuff, so odds are any gift I get will be Doctor Who related. Plus my friends coming over, and an excuse to pig out on popcorn and watch Firefly and or Doctor Who is always good.
This is me trying to be excited.
I'm failing rather badly.
Currently have my god-sister's dog staying at my place. Name's Lucky, and he gets along with Sam quite well. Terrified of thunder, though, the both of them. And Lucky hasn't been eating much. He didn't eat at all until tonight, and then only had about half his dinner.
Speaking of my god-sister, she's going off to college in like a week. I'll miss her, but I might get to pay her a visit sometime in October, so that's...good. And stuff.
I must say, I can't wait till this exam is over with. I have a Neil Gaiman book to read, but my blasted work ethic won't let me read it without feeling guilty until the exam is done. It won't let me read anything else I was planning to, either, including Hitchhiker's Guide, my new book full of H.P. Lovecraft, Jane Austen, or Dark Projeny, or Shakespeare, or anything. (My extensive reading list is due to a summer spent studying (and avoiding studying) math, which I wouldn't have had to do if a. the educational system wasn't such an ass, or b. I hadn't missed so much school, including the exam. I was supposed to read for three months, damn it! READ! And watch the History channel, and surf the internet for info on space and crap. I did those last two, actually, and the cooking, but READING. There was supposed to be a hell of a lot more reading involved. Grr.)
Can't wait for tomorrow (well...today's, I suppose) Universe. It's about Parallel Universes!
Finally: I've been working on a novel, the premise for another novel, and some ridiculous amount of poetry. There's also a play about vampires and a book about them that are sort of on the back burner at the moment, and will likely continue to be for quite a while, what with school starting up again in 3 weeks or so. The first novel, by the way, is your standard adventure fantasy. Girl (who is disturbingly muscular and has been training for this literally since she could crawl, maybe before) and boy (who is a bit like an ambassador, really) set out to defeat warlord named Andiatne who is working on taking over the world and is really really dangerous. Along the way they're joined by another boy (who is a starving homeless kid.) The novel I'm working on the premise for is about wolf-men.
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Thursday, January 1, 2009
The Girl in the Mirror
"The demon lurks beneath the ground,
His singing makes a charming sound,
But what to do with the maiden fair,
For all that she will do is stare."
His singing makes a charming sound,
But what to do with the maiden fair,
For all that she will do is stare."
The girl in the mirror was singing. This itself was not particularly unusual, for the girl in the mirror often sang. She would sing lullabies and nursery rhymes, innocent rhymes written to entertain young children, and certainly not made to sound like instruments of some dark entity. It is a truth, however, one that may be ignored or not to one's own fancy, that children like blood. They enjoy stories full of fire and knives and swords and magic, full of sinister plots and wicked fairies, blood and death and princes with strange fetishes for those who are neither conscious or, in some cases, alive. Rhymes enjoyed by children are often full of violence, of blinded folk and decapitation, of things that, when considered carefully, appear rather more sinister than grown-ups would like to imagine them to be. And so it was that the girl would sing, sing songs that, though having themselves an air of innocence due to their inherent connection to children, sounded as dark and sinister as their lyrics would suggest.
Listening to the girl sing, the woman wondered again where the songs came from. She had certainly never heard them before, not in this world, but the girl seemed to know them from memory, and they rolled off her lips with the sort of familiarity that comes when you have listened to something a great many times since your youth, when the lyrics were ingrained into your young mind. The rhymes spoke of blood and stars and demons, of darkness and monsters. This would not have been so bad, the woman thought, for she knew of monsters and demons and knew they were not real. Even when the girl spoke of terrible things that the woman would do, even then the woman was not particularly frightened, for she knew she would never do them, indeed could never do them, so strongly was she governed by her moral code.
What frightened the woman was when the girl came to her, covered in blood. The girl would have a knife with her, and she would look at it for hours, watching as the shining metal caught the light. The woman would close her eyes and look away, and the girl wouldn't notice. Sometimes she would sing, but more often she would sit, silent except for the occasional mutter about blood, the occasional murmur about screaming. Sometimes the girl wasn't alone. She would get angry sometimes, frustrated by the woman's refusal to do as the girl said she should. Those times she would bring someone with her, do her work there, in front of the woman. The woman would look away, closing her eyes and her ears, trying not to hear the screaming. She would yell, then, yell at the girl to stop. But the girl in the mirror never listened, and the girl in the mirror never stopped.
The girl wasn't afraid of anything. She made monsters cry out in pain, made demons beg for mercy. Everyone and everything cowered before her, and she was afraid of nothing. But she didn't like the woman in the mirror. The woman in the mirror didn't understand, and she didn't cower. She would tell the girl things, tell her to stop. The girl didn't want to stop. She liked it when they screamed, it sounded high and clear and beautiful, and it made her tingle with pleasure. The woman was wrong, the girl wasn't evil. She was doing what she had to. She had to hurt them, she had to know, she had to, she had to. She would wish for the woman to go away, but she never did. She was always there, in the mirror, always talking and smiling and saying...saying awful things. She would tell the girl it would be over soon, that she would win and the girl would go away. It was too bad, really. She would have made a nice friend. The girl didn't have many friends. People said they liked her, but they didn't. The girl knew this, knew they were lying. She didn't like liars. "Lying is wrong," she would say, and then she'd make them scream. After all, they had to know. They had to understand that lying was wrong. The woman lied, she said she wasn't afraid when it was quite clear that she was. But the girl could never make her understand. She tried, she did. She couldn't hurt the woman in the mirror, so she showed her, showed her what happened to liars.
The girl didn't like the woman in the mirror, but she would sit there all the same. She would watch the woman, talk to the woman, tell the woman what she'd done. She would listen to the woman's whimpering, listen to her little gasps of shock and horror. She would sit there, listening, looking at her knife, watching the light, her shirt soaked with blood. This was what the girl in the mirror was doing now, watching her knife as she sang under her breath.
Listening to the girl sing, the woman wondered again where the songs came from. She had certainly never heard them before, not in this world, but the girl seemed to know them from memory, and they rolled off her lips with the sort of familiarity that comes when you have listened to something a great many times since your youth, when the lyrics were ingrained into your young mind. The rhymes spoke of blood and stars and demons, of darkness and monsters. This would not have been so bad, the woman thought, for she knew of monsters and demons and knew they were not real. Even when the girl spoke of terrible things that the woman would do, even then the woman was not particularly frightened, for she knew she would never do them, indeed could never do them, so strongly was she governed by her moral code.
What frightened the woman was when the girl came to her, covered in blood. The girl would have a knife with her, and she would look at it for hours, watching as the shining metal caught the light. The woman would close her eyes and look away, and the girl wouldn't notice. Sometimes she would sing, but more often she would sit, silent except for the occasional mutter about blood, the occasional murmur about screaming. Sometimes the girl wasn't alone. She would get angry sometimes, frustrated by the woman's refusal to do as the girl said she should. Those times she would bring someone with her, do her work there, in front of the woman. The woman would look away, closing her eyes and her ears, trying not to hear the screaming. She would yell, then, yell at the girl to stop. But the girl in the mirror never listened, and the girl in the mirror never stopped.
The girl wasn't afraid of anything. She made monsters cry out in pain, made demons beg for mercy. Everyone and everything cowered before her, and she was afraid of nothing. But she didn't like the woman in the mirror. The woman in the mirror didn't understand, and she didn't cower. She would tell the girl things, tell her to stop. The girl didn't want to stop. She liked it when they screamed, it sounded high and clear and beautiful, and it made her tingle with pleasure. The woman was wrong, the girl wasn't evil. She was doing what she had to. She had to hurt them, she had to know, she had to, she had to. She would wish for the woman to go away, but she never did. She was always there, in the mirror, always talking and smiling and saying...saying awful things. She would tell the girl it would be over soon, that she would win and the girl would go away. It was too bad, really. She would have made a nice friend. The girl didn't have many friends. People said they liked her, but they didn't. The girl knew this, knew they were lying. She didn't like liars. "Lying is wrong," she would say, and then she'd make them scream. After all, they had to know. They had to understand that lying was wrong. The woman lied, she said she wasn't afraid when it was quite clear that she was. But the girl could never make her understand. She tried, she did. She couldn't hurt the woman in the mirror, so she showed her, showed her what happened to liars.
The girl didn't like the woman in the mirror, but she would sit there all the same. She would watch the woman, talk to the woman, tell the woman what she'd done. She would listen to the woman's whimpering, listen to her little gasps of shock and horror. She would sit there, listening, looking at her knife, watching the light, her shirt soaked with blood. This was what the girl in the mirror was doing now, watching her knife as she sang under her breath.
"The demon lurks beneath the ground,
His singing makes a charming sound,
But what to do with the maiden fair,
For all that she will do is stare."
His singing makes a charming sound,
But what to do with the maiden fair,
For all that she will do is stare."
The girl didn't like demons. Demons lied, lying was bad. That's why she had to hurt them. And they would yell, their screams like a song, sweet and loud. Her dad used to sing the song to her, and she'd listened. She always listened. She listened when he sang, and she listened when he lied. She even listened when he died. She lay down the knife, looking into the mirror. The woman in the mirror was avoiding her gaze, but the girl didn't care. The girl in the mirror stared.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Happy New Year!
So I'm queasy, I have a migraine, I have cramps, I feel kind of lightheaded, and I think I managed to bruise a spot right by one of my ribs. How? No idea. Just hurts. So anyway, due to the fact that only three of these five symptoms are the norm for me, I think I might be sick. Yeah. That sucks.
Anyway. I actually made this post for only one reason: I now ship Jeb/Raw. Yes, this is the result of reading exactly one fic. A crack fic. Which I will link to, because it is awesome and funny and I want to know if anyone else ends up shipping Jeb/Raw. Probably not, I think my mind is just a strange place. Oh well.
The link is this: http://community.livejournal.com/glitch_wyatt/359442.html
Really wish I had a plotbunny for them. I should probably be working on my DW novel. Or my poetry. Or my new original fics about the dragon who accidentally kidnaps a prince (which I will post here once it's done.) It needs an ending, and then it will probably become the first in a series. But right now I need to finish it.
Anyway. I actually made this post for only one reason: I now ship Jeb/Raw. Yes, this is the result of reading exactly one fic. A crack fic. Which I will link to, because it is awesome and funny and I want to know if anyone else ends up shipping Jeb/Raw. Probably not, I think my mind is just a strange place. Oh well.
The link is this: http://community.livejournal.com/glitch_wyatt/359442.html
Really wish I had a plotbunny for them. I should probably be working on my DW novel. Or my poetry. Or my new original fics about the dragon who accidentally kidnaps a prince (which I will post here once it's done.) It needs an ending, and then it will probably become the first in a series. But right now I need to finish it.
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