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| Sad Strings Of Hair; Self-Training | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 12 2007, 11:21 PM (66 Views) | |
| Kenny | Jul 12 2007, 11:21 PM Post #1 |
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Meteorain (Lv3)
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“I’m… falling asleep… mm, sleep…” … He lived a simple life. The fire crackled, being forced to the Stone Age because of Terra’s powerless position the young boy placed more sticks on the dimming light. Its ambient glow was multiplied a hundred fold throughout the wretched city, each one dancing along with Terra’s nightly breeze. The lad sat down only to be welcomed by the cracked pavement’s unevenness which left him to feel slightly uncomfortable. His brow lowered and a frown formed, sympathetic of the position he was in, when he had finally realised how silly he was to leave home for the ‘big city’. Nothing was expected in a place like, nothing good. The boy lowered his head and looked at the chopped up cement. He was longing for the good times when life were more simple. A simple smile spread across his face, remembering a fond memory of poking water reeds into watermelons to use as a straw. It was all too clear in his mind now… “Yup, when I caught Beth doing it for the first time, having to tell her off before noticing the reed poking out and admitting that she had talent for mischief.” As it turned out she wasn’t able to crack it open without making a mess and letting Father know, so she worked out a cleaner option. It was probably why she was the only child in the family to leave the farm for proper schooling. She was always the smart one. He was proud. Suddenly, the boy looked up with a disorientated smile, having mixed emotions that left that type of mark on a face. “Life is hard, but I’m harder.” With that said, a prostitute across the road looked at him and smiled. Kenneth winced and the prostitute laughed. He didn’t like it when the man with the strings played around with his words. A shadowy figure appeared behind Kenneth, a young man… but before the person had the chance to speak, rain began to fall from the sky and soak the brittle ground and turn its finer dust into mud. As the person spoke their voice was drowned by the sudden bang of thunder making Ken jump from shock. His fire was quickly put out and he turned around feeling like he was being watched. He stared into the abyss, the lack of light concealing shapes so he couldn’t make out anything behind him… not until lightning illuminated the area once again. Ken looked to the older boy with his eyes becoming wider and his stress levels increasing. The loud sound of the thundering weather boomed and Ken had lost himself to crawling backwards with his eyes stuck on the large eyed creature before him. He didn’t recognize the boy as a boy like him, mainly because of the darkness and the large glasses that were perched on his nose. “Please don’t probe me!” The boys face resembled an alien more than anything. Looking to his side in fear, Ken could not help but take hold of a large cement rock that had entirely broken away from the pavement. Firmly grasped in his hand he lifted it towards the figure in a threatening fashion. He wasn’t a violent person and he was shaking. “Get back!” The figure before him could only stare back at him as it most likely plotted its way into his rectum. Father had always warned Ken of these creatures that stole other rural folk for his bed time stories and it appeared they wanted him now. The creatures darkened armed lifted up towards its face and seemed to pull its large eyes out, their ambient shine reflecting the little light there was. “What the hell are you?” Ken shouted, his grip tightening on the wet rock in his hand. The creatures eyes were hidden for a moment within the figures garments, presenting themselves once again as it placed them back inside its head. This creatures response was slow, almost as if it were savouring Ken’s fear. It may have been enjoying itself, but Ken wasn’t. He was soaked now and he wasn’t warmly dressed. With the added effect of adrenaline he couldn’t help but shiver more than normal. “What are you?” "Hey, watch it!" The shadowy and alien monster suddenly had lost its scariness. It finally clicked that this mystery creature was just a human and so the cement shard in Ken’s hand was instantly let go. "I'm not going to hurt you! I just wanted to join you by your fire, but now it's out so I wonder if you want to go to a hotel?!” The person’s voice didn’t fit at all, here he was against this terrible boogieman and the voice portrayed a boy only a bit older than himself. The weather classically cleared up and revealed his would-be antagonist, who was exactly what Ken had figured after hearing him. “What? Hotel? What in the world is a hotel?” Ken answered the boy rashly, quickly prompting his own mistake at being impolite. “I mean, very sorry. I didn’t realise you were… I’m sorry about the rock.” He could roughly make out the boys smile and returned his own disorientated grin. ... “Ken…” “What?” “Ken…” “Who?” A tear, a single tear running down his left cheek. It had woken Ken so quickly, what was he dreaming? He seemed to forget his dreams too easily. The dull light in the sky bled through the room’s window, pouring itself over Ken’s covers and onto his face. His hair lazily spread itself across his pillow, a light brown which was lit to glow by the slight light. “Damn,” Ken spoke aloud. He had heard a voice before he awoke, something which had interrupted his peace. Something within him cried out, but it wasn’t really within. It was something else. Somebody who wanted to talk to him. Ken sat up and used his blanket to wipe his wet cheek. His expression was blank with thought. This, continued for a few minutes until he finally lay back down with a sigh. “Man, I hate sleeping. This always happens…” If it wasn’t for fate, he might of not heard those voice ever again. If Gaia didn’t choose him, he might of lived a slightly normal existence, alas he wasn’t and he had to carry the weight on his own shoulders. He was a retired prophet, but still haunted by the ghosts which craved life. “Ahem…” Ken’s face quickly lit up as he felt a thud on the top of his covers, a creature clawing steadily from his feet to his stomach. He looked up to see Muffins, his cat. He was very old. “Oh, hello… How are you Muffins?” “Very well. You,” Muffins started. “Yes.” “Were crying in your sleep.” If the fat ball of gray fur could express an emotion, his face would be contorted with concern. “Want to talk about it,” the feline enquired. |
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6:29 PM Jul 10