Saturday, August 6, 2011

For Macie

She awoke with a start, her heart pounding, sweat dripping down her forehead. She couldn’t stop the sobs that tore from her throat, immediately wrapping herself into a ball on the bed. Her entire body was shaking, her sobs becoming uncontrollable. There was a light knock on the door, followed by the turning of the knob.
“Macie?” she heard a masculine voice say. She looked up to see her housemate standing in the doorway, his hair sticking up in a messy halo around his head. “Are you okay?”
Macie let out a sniffle and stared at him, all the pain in her face drawing him towards her. He closed the door and walked over to her quickly, climbing into the bed and wrapping her in his arms.  Her shaking body leaned against him, her soft curves pressed against his toned body. He laid his chin on top of her head, tucking her into him. Her strangled sobs turned to whimpers as he whispered sweet nothings to her.
“I’m sorry about this,” she whispered, pulling away to look at him. He merely shook his head and brought her back under his chin.
“Hush with that,” he said. “This just gives me an excuse to hold you.” She could hear the smile in his voice and let out a small laugh. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really,” Macie’s voice cracked. “Just… the usual.” She felt him nod and snuggled against him, his arms tightening around her as she did.
“We should sleep,” he said. Macie’s chest tightened, silently begging him not to leave her. He laid her down, and before she could say anything, lay behind her, laying his arm across her. “Is this okay?” he whispered into her hair. She nodded, hardly daring to breathe, willing her heartbeat to slow. Ever so carefully she laid her arm atop his, intertwining their fingers. She knew her actions were accepted when he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. She closed her eyes and sighed contentedly, feeling his hot breath on the back of her neck.
“Thank you,” she whispered.

It's short, and I don't really like it all that much. I mean I can do alot better, but there you go c:

Sunday, July 17, 2011

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

She’d been hurt for the last time. She ran from that place she used to call “home” and out onto the street. She looked frantically around, where can I go? Her feet took off and she was running again. She ran the mile to the park in under five minutes, the fastest she’d ever run. She arrived out of breath, and shaking. Tears blinded her eyes as she stumbled onto the playground. Suddenly, she just stopped moving. She couldn’t force her feet to take another step. Her entire body was shaking, her sobs wracking her body. Her knees buckled and strong arms wrapped around her waist and held her up, lips pressed against the back of her neck in a silent kiss. She leaned back against him and his arms tightened against her.
“Shh,” he murmured. “Baby, shh.” Her body continued to shake with her silent cries. She raised her fists to her eyes and continued to weep. He pressed his forehead to the back of her neck and just held her while she cried. When her sobs quieted, and her breathing became regular he lifted his head and kissed her hair. Neither moved for a second, listening to the silence. One of his hands reached up and pulled the sleeve of her shirt down, revealing an untouched wrist. He did the same to the other, revealing the same thing, and sighed in relief. He turned her around and kissed both of her scarred wrists.
“Thank you,” he whispered to her.
“How did you know I was here?” She asked him, her voice still shaky and weak.
“I was coming to get you, you ran right past me” he said with a small smile.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. His hands cupped her face and he pecked her lips lightly.
“Are you okay?” He asked her, searching her eyes.
“I am now,” she mouthed. He pressed his forehead to hers and wrapped his arms around her waist, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.
“I love you,” he whispered against her lips. She pressed her body into his and wrapped her arms loosely around his neck.
“What would I do without you?” She whispered back. She tilted her head up a little and kissed his lips, love pouring out of her. He kissed her back just as passionately and tightened his hold on her. They pulled apart, both breathing a little irregularly.
“Come on,” he said pulling away from her. She followed as he walked out of the park, his arm wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. She smiled and wrapped her arm around his waist, leaning her head on him.
“Where are we going?” She asked him confused.
“Your house,” he answered. She stopped walking and a ripple of pain tore through her chest. “Hey, hey” he said cupping her face and looking her straight in her wide, frightened eyes. “We need to get some stuff for you.”
“What?” She said, not understanding.
“You’re not staying in that house anymore,” he said firmly. Her eyes widened and filled with fresh tears. He swiped his thumbs under eyes to clear the tears there. “None of that now,” he said with a soft smile.
“I love you,” she whispered. He kissed her forehead and resumed walking to her house, her hand enclosed in his.
She shook slightly, looking up at her big house when they arrived, her breath stuck in her throat. He squeezed her hand and said
“You don’t have to go; I’ll go get your stuff.” She shook her head and began walking towards her backyard. She pushed the ladder up against the side of her house, directly under her window and began climbing while he waited for her at the bottom, holding the ladder steady. She opened her window silently and climbed into her room. She walked over to her door and cracked it open; peering around the hallway to make sure her stepmother wasn’t around. Satisfied that she was alone, she hurried to her closet and began throwing her clothes into a bag. She packed all the things she couldn’t bear to leave behind, and then turned back to her closet. She reached onto the top shelf and pulled down a shoebox. Opening it, she looked at all her mother’s belongings that she had salvaged from her father’s anger. A few pictures and pieces of jewelry occupied the box. Most important was her mother’s favorite necklace, a beautiful silver locket with pieces of blue topaz embedded in the front, her mother’s favorite stone. She opened it and inside was a picture of her mother on one side, and a picture of her mother holding her as a toddler. She reached behind her and clasped the necklace on then packed the box into her bag. She opened the window a bit farther and threw her two bags down, grabbed her purse, and began descending the ladder, closing her window behind her. She was free. 

Saturday, July 2, 2011

Starcrossed: Chapter 1

For years, a battle has destroyed the whole of Japan. Demons wreak havoc on the lands; humans live in constant fear, living in caves and under mountains, afraid to walk out of their doorsteps for fear of the unknown. The war has waged so long that none remember, save a few elderly. Lord Onigumo, ruler of the humans and the East, battles with Lord InuTaisho of the western lands, speaker for the demons.
Yet, there is one who can save us, one who can end the wars. She has been chosen by Midoriko, a dead priestess now angel in heaven. There is one girl, of Midoriko’s own bloodline, that she smiles upon. She just doesn’t know it yet.
“Kagome!!” A man’s voice boomed and echoed through the great halls. A small sixteen year old girl scurried through the doors and knelt before the man. She was wearing a light green tunic that ended at her knees, a darker green sash tied around her waist, showing that she indeed had a nice figure. Her wavy black tresses fell to the small of her back; her bangs hid her chocolate brown eyes from the man sitting in the thrown in front of her.
“Yes my Lord?” She asked in a meek voice.
“I do believe my Lady asked you to mend her dress for this evening’s event, did she not?”
“Yes my Lord,” she answered quietly.
“Evening has come and where is the dress?”
“I-” she began.
“Not here!” He bellowed loudly causing the young girl to flinch harshly.
“My Lord Onigumo, I beg your forgiveness.” She pressed her forehead to the cold, tiled floor in utter humiliation. Lord Onigumo sneered down at his slave.
“You are to mend the dress immediately and meet me in my chambers directly afterwards.” He had the satisfaction of seeing her tremble as she muttered a quick,
“Yes my Lord,” and nearly ran out of the room. Just as she left, a woman with long black hair down to her knees and lifeless brown eyes with a striking similarity to the slave girl walked into the room.
“Ah, Lady Kikyo,” Lord Onigumo smiled. “My love,” he said in a tender voice. She smiled at him as she dipped her head in respect.
“My Lord,” she said in her stoic voice. She sat in the throne next to him and asked, “Did you punish that despicable creature?”
“Not yet, my love.” Before Kikyo could protest he said, “We wouldn’t want her too injured for tonight would we?” Kikyo sneered and laughed amusedly.
Kagome bowed her head as Lady Kikyo entered the room she was running away from.
“Wench,” greeted Kikyo rudely.
“My Lady,” Kagome mumbled and hurried on. She ran to the servants quarters, ignoring the mumbles and shouts behind her. She dashed into her room and locked the door quickly behind her. She let out a shaky breath and leaned against the door heavily, sliding down to the floor. No, she thought. Not like last time. An image of Lord Onigumo standing above her, his eyes wild, as he reached down to her flashed before her eyes. His wavy black hair was sprawled wildly around his head, his red eyes looking scarier than usual.
She shook her head and the image disappeared replaced with a soothing darkness. It’s just a stupid dress, why must they be so cruel?  She thought despairingly. Suddenly a small knock sounded against the door, a tentative
“Kagome?” was heard through the doors. She stood and unlocked the door as fast as she could. Then, he was in her arms.
“Souta,” she breathed. Her arms tightened around the boy as she held him close to her.
“Sis,” he replied warmly. He took a step back, his eyes shining with unshed tears.
“How are you here?”  She asked blinking away tears of her own.
“General Musso was busy and didn’t notice when I slipped away.” He replied shrugging.
Souta was only a twelve year old boy, forced into the military, like others his age. Many mothers had opposed Lord Onigumo’s demands to force their children to fight, but with more men being massacred by demons every day, they had no choice. Souta and Kagome’s father had died fighting in the war and Kagome was afraid the same fate would befall Souta. Kagome’s mother had died a year later, her body found floating in a stream, her face completely gone.
The Higurashi siblings had been orphaned when Kagome was twelve and Souta was eight. That was when Kagome had first started working for Lord Onigumo. It had seemed like a great job, a room for herself and Souta, and all she had to do was do a few tasks for Lady Kikyo. That was before she found out what a slave driver Kikyo was, and how cruel Onigumo could be. Souta was allowed to stay in Kagome’s room without having to work, as long as he didn’t cause trouble. But when Souta turned twelve, Kagome tried to keep it a secret, saying he was still only eleven. When Lord Onigumo found out, however, the punishments had worsened uncontrollably. It was one punishment she knew she deserved.
She pushed Souta away from herself gently and quickly rushed over him with her eyes.
“Have you been injured in any way? Did you fight in any battles? Are you sure you’re alright?!” She asked anxiously. Souta rolled his eyes, but smiled a small smile.
“I’m fine ‘Gome” he said. She grinned at him and embraced him yet again. “Kohaku is here too,” he said into her shoulder.
“He is?” She asked, surprised. “Has he seen Sango yet?”
“We snuck away together,” Souta said. “He should be with her now.”
“Let’s go see them,” Kagome suggested. Kagome poked her head out of her door and peered down the hallway. “I don’t think any of the other servants will turn you in, but you can’t be too careful” she explained. Souta nodded and the two ran down the hall. Kagome stopped in front of a door and she pulled a key out of, seemingly, thin air.
“Where’d you get that?” Souta asked. Kagome grinned.
“A magician never reveals her secrets,” she winked. Souta shook his head and watched as she unlocked the door and dashed inside. She closed the door behind him and grabbed an unlit lantern, twisting the small knob to produce light. “The old servant’s stairs,” she said. “Haven’t been in here since last time you were here.” Souta laughed quietly, remembering all the mischief they had caused when he visited last. He took every chance he could to see his older sister, for he loved her dearly. She was all he had left in his world and he didn’t intend to lose her.
They traveled down the corridors swiftly and silently. “Where do you think they are?” Souta asked.
“Sango is usually hanging around the other palace demon slayers, so we’ll check with them. They won’t turn you in of course; they know how much Kohaku means to Sango so we should be okay.” Kagome said. She opened another door and sunlight flooded the hallway. She peeked around the corner and upon seeing her friend; she exited the hidden passage with her brother right behind her.
A tall girl with long brown hair tied into a high ponytail was standing with a boy in an empty hallway. She was dressed in a pink and white kimono that went to her ankles with a green skirt wrapped around it. The kimono was long-sleeved and peeking underneath, part of her demon slayer uniform was revealed. A boy was in her arms, embracing her in return. The boy’s skin was tanned from the harsh sun, his hair brown and tied back in a ponytail. He was dressed in a black and green demon slayer’s armor identical to Souta’s black and red one.
“Sango! Kohaku!” Kagome cried upon seeing them. The two turned towards her and identical grins covered their faces.
Sango and Kohaku Taijiya were also orphans; their parents were great demon slayers and died in a great battle alongside Ryo Higurashi, Kagome and Souta’s father. Sango was nineteen and Kohaku was thirteen years old. Sango and Kohaku were family to Kagome and Souta; they only had each other to lean on in these harsh times. Sango worked as a guard demon slayer to their village under the mountain, one of few females; Kohaku fought alongside Souta.
“Kagome! Souta!” The Taijiya siblings exclaimed. Kagome embraced Kohaku while Sango did the same to Souta. The four pulled apart when they heard a man’s voice exclaim,
“Boys! So great to see you!” Everyone turned to see a man with violet eyes and brown hair pulled back into a tiny ponytail at the nape of his neck. He was dressed in long purple and black robes, a staff in his right hand. Sango rolled her eyes as the two boys raced towards the man shouting excitedly,
Miroku Houshi was a monk. His mother had died when he was little and his father died a few years later. The men of the Houshi family had all been cursed by an evil demon named Naraku, to have a black hole implanted in the palm of his left hand. Whenever he opened it, everything within distance would be sucked inside, never to return.  Prayer beads were wrapped around his arm to keep the “Wind Tunnel” from being open all the time. His father had been sucked through his own hole, and the same fate awaited Miroku if the demon Naraku was not slain. Miroku was now twenty years old and a powerful monk. His only downside was-
“Pervert!” Sango shouted, slapping Miroku’s cheek. The wandering hand left her bottom and she turned to face the monk. The dreamy look in his eyes did not waver as a red hand-print formed in his face.
“It was the hand Sango!” He protested, referring to the wind tunneled hand, “It’s possessed!”
“The only thing it’s possessed by is you!” She shouted. Kagome, Kohaku, and Souta all exchanged amused glances, covering their snickers with their hands. Sango glared at them and their smiles disappeared instantly. The monk rubbed a hand to his face and pouted pathetically.
“Why are you so mean to me, Sango? You know I’m doing this because I love you so,” he said sadly.
“Right, love me enough to stay above the waist,” she said rolling her eyes. Miroku grinned evilly and eyed her breasts, his hand already creeping away from his side. Sango’s eyes widened when Kagome and the boys burst out laughing, her arms immediately crossing over her chest. She glared at Miroku and he only smiled innocently in return.
Kagome watched silently as Miroku and Sango continued to bicker and Kohaku and Souta made snide comments to each other. She cherished these moments, these moments where she could forget all about Lady Kikyo and Lord Onigumo and just being with her friends. Her family.

Monday, June 27, 2011

Beauty From Pain: Chapter 1

This pattern increased over the years. As Kioko grew into a teenage girl, her father’s behavior worsened. He would come home drunk, high, or both. Sometimes he would bring an assortment of his friends with him, and let them all watch while he did unspeakable things to her. Kioko just let it happen, she never stood up for herself, never attempted to fight back. After all, she deserved it, didn’t she?
“Dammit,” a 17 year old Kioko cursed to herself. “Hai?” She called back.
“Get in here!” Her drunken father shouted at her. She sighed and obeyed, walking into the dining room where her father and an intimidating man stood waiting for her.
“Who’s this?” She asked quietly, her skin crawling at the look the man was giving her.
“This m-man,” her father slurred. “Is going to t-take you.”
“Take me where?” Kioko whispered in horror.
“Wherever the hell he wants!” Her father yelled.
“What are you saying?” Kioko asked, her voice cracking.
“I owe him money, for numerous things,” her father said. He pointed at her, swaying as he did. “And he said that if I gave him you, my debt would be erased.” Kioko turned, horrified, to look at the man. He smirked and stroked her cheek.
“She’s a pretty one, I can make quite a bit on her I bet.” Kioko gulped and the man grinned a yellow-toothed smile. Kioko flinched away from his touch and looked pleadingly at her father.
“Daddy,” she begged. “Please, please don’t let this man take me! I’m your daughter!” Her father looked at her in disgust.
“Daughter?” He spat. “You’re nothing but a whore.” Kioko’s eyes welled with tears as the man wrapped his filthy hand around her wrist and began pulling her out of the house.
“Please!” She shouted desperately, as her owner dragged her mercilessly out of her house, and into the pouring rain. “Daddy!” She called out, willing her father to change his mind.
“Shut up!” The man shouted and slapped her across the face. “You’re going to be a good little girl, and you’re going to do whatever and whoever I tell you to, got that bitch?” The man grabbed her face in his slimy hand and squeezed roughly.
A surge of panic welled up inside her chest, and she squeezed her eyes shut; trying to block out the crude images that raced through her mind. No, she thought, please no!  
For the first time in her life, Kioko started to struggle. She shook the man’s hands off her and tried to run away.
“Oh no you don’t!” The man growled as he caught up to her and wrapped his arms around her torso, trapping her arms under his. Kioko gave out a strangled sob and kicked backwards causing the man to grunt and fall to the ground, clutching himself in pain. “You bitch!” he screamed at her. Kioko ran blindly, not caring where she was going, as long as she was far away from him. She could hear his heavy steps as his clumsily ran after her, and doubled her pace. She scanned the streets quickly, looking for any escape, any possible way for her to get away from him.
There! She turned down an alleyway and nearly screamed in frustration. Dead end. She froze when she heard someone chuckling evilly. She turned around slowly and saw the man, her owner, approaching her.
“Did you honestly think you could get away from me?” he asked tauntingly.
A fist collided with her face before she could answer.
Kioko groaned as she awoke, a great pounding in her head. She sat up and started getting out of bed, when she was yanked back down. Confused, she looked at the chain around her wrist, that was connected to the headboard of the bed she was sitting in. She looked around quickly, her heart pounding. The room was filled with ten beds, five along either wall, a girl occupying each bed. Some were awake like her, but they were all laying quietly, watching.
“W-What is this place?” She whispered to the girl closest to her. She simply rolled over, turning her back to Kioko. The sound of loud, obnoxious voices filled the air and Kioko quickly lay back down, hoping that if she pretended to be asleep she would be left alone. She heard footsteps next to her and cracked an eye open. An unfamiliar man was facing the girl that’d ignored Kioko before, injecting something in her arm.
“Aye, Akeno?” The man called out.
“What?” A voice sounded from across the room.
“Are we supposed to start the new girl on the stuff yet?” Stuff? Kioko thought fearfully. What stuff?
“Nah, Kazuo wanted to talk to her first. Wake her up.” Kioko cried out as the man next to her grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled, hard.
“She’s awake,” the man snickered and unchained her from the bed. He pulled her against his body, his warm breath on her cheek. “I heard you were a runner,” he whispered, causing her to shiver against him. Suddenly she felt something cold and hard press against her neck and she gulped unsteadily. “If you run from me, you’ll get this in your back. Got that, sweetheart?” He placed an open mouthed kiss on her neck and began rubbing her arms.
“Jiro, cut it out.” The man called Akeno scolded. “Kazuo said no one was to touch her.”
“Yeah yeah,” Jiro grumbled and licked her neck once more before pushing her forward. Kioko’s eyes tried to memorize her surroundings as she was guided into a room, the door slammed shut behind her. In front of her, seated behind a desk, was the man who had taken her earlier.
“Have a seat,” he said calmly, gesturing to an empty chair next to her. She eyed him wearily, her muscles refusing to move. The man chuckled quietly. “Now, Kioko, is it? My name is Kazuo, I’m afraid we weren’t properly introduced before.” He paused for a second, as if waiting for her to say something. When she didn’t, he continued. “I know your father didn’t say anything to you about what I do, or what you’ll be doing in the near future.” Kazuo smiled a smile that made Kioko tremble.
“I run a business Kioko, a very successful business. And in order for my business to be successful, we have to have the full cooperation of everyone working here, which means you.” He looked at her for a moment, a terrifying glint in his eye. “You really are a pretty one, aren’t you?” He said quietly. He studied her for a few more moments before he pushed a button on the edge of his desk. The man from before, Jiro, entered the room and eyed Kioko hungrily.
“Yes, boss?” He asked, his eyes not leaving Kioko.
“Postpone the treatments for the new girl, she needs to be,” he paused and grinned. “Broken in,” Jiro grinned in response and winked at Kioko before exiting the room. Kazuo stood and walked around his desk, locking the door before turning to eye Kioko.
Her screams tore through the air, her cries for help left unanswered.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Beauty From Pain: Prologue

It was a beautiful Saturday morning, as a car sped along down the road. Inside a man, Makihiko, was desperately trying to reach the hospital, the agonizing cries of his wife Haru rang through the car.
“Daddy?” The little girl in the back asked fearfully. “How much longer? Mommy’s hurting my hand.” Makihiko looked back to see his five year old daughter huddled against his wife in the backseat, their hands intertwined, both colored with pressure.
“Not much longer, Kioko” Makihiko promised. “We’re almost there.”
“It’s a girl!” The doctors cried excitedly. Haru slumped back against the sweat drenched sheets, exhausted from the five hours of labor she had just endured.
“Let me see her,” she panted. She looked up at her husband who was holding a small pink bundle in his arms. Ever so gently he handed the baby to his wife, kissing her forehead as he stepped aside to let mother bond with child. “She’s beautiful,” Haru cooed.
“What’s her name?” A nurse standing nearby asked. Haru looked up at her husband, and back down to her beautiful baby. “Emiko.”
Nobody noticed the little girl huddled in the corner.
“What do you mean ‘there’s no cure’?” Makihiko shouted at the doctor angrily. Haru was holding her baby close, tears dripping down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry sir,” said the doctor. “You’ll be lucky if she survives her first birthday.”
“She’s only 2 months old!” Haru wailed.
Four years later
“Kioko! Emiko! It’s time for dinner!” Haru shouted out of the kitchen window. She felt two arms wrap around her waist as her husband kissed her cheek.
“Smells great honey,” he said as he reached over and stuck a finger into the bowl of sauce.
“Oh no you don’t!” Haru laughed as she wacked her husband’s hand with a spoon. He jumped back and ran into the dining room licking his finger clean. “Maki!” She shouted in pretend anger. She could hear her husband’s laughter and couldn’t help but smile.
“Mommy?” A small voice whispered. She turned to see Kioko standing in the doorway, looking confused and sad.
“Kioko, I told you and your sister to come inside for dinner.” Haru scolded. “Where is she?”
“There’s something wrong with Emiko,” Kioko said, her voice quivering. Haru’s eyes widened and she hurried out of the house, into the backyard where her children had been playing. A small girl lay motionless and pale on the ground.
“Makihiko!” Haru screamed, tears already threatening to spill. She knelt down next to her daughter and held her close to her chest. She vaguely heard her husband shouting and Kioko crying, but all she could concentrate on was her heartbeat, and her daughter’s lack of one.
“Kioko!” Haru shouted. She heard her eleven year old daughter running through the house, looking for her.
“Y-Yes, mother?” Kioko whispered fearfully.
“What did I tell you about this room?” Her mother said through clenched teeth.
“You told me to clean it,” Kioko answered quietly.
“Then why isn’t it clean!” Haru shouted angrily.
“I-I,” Haru whirled around and slapped her daughter across the face, interrupting whatever answer she was about to give.
“I don’t want your excuses! I’m sick and tired of always having to tell you a thousand times to do something! You’re useless, worthless, a disgrace! It should’ve been you who died, not our precious Emiko! You could never replace her!” Haru’s blows continued to rain upon Kioko’s frail body, leaving her huddled on the floor. Even then, she wouldn’t stop. She continued to kick at Kioko, until a deep pain shot into her chest. She grunted and fell to the floor, convulsing. “K-K-” she tried calling out to her daughter, for help, for anything, but her movements ceased, her breathing stopped.
When Makihiko came home later that night, he found his wife’s body on the floor, and Kioko huddled in the corner, bleeding and whispering “I’m sorry.”
“Kioko!” Makihiko’s slurred voice called through the house. Kioko winced as she pictured her drunken father, stumbling in from another night at the bar.
“H-Hai!” She answered, wishing he was too drunk to hear.
“Come ‘ere” he called out. She took a deep breath and exited her room, walking into the dining room where her father sat at the table. He stood when she entered, and held his hand out to her. She squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing the bile in her throat, her entire body shaking at what was about to come. She extended her arm until her hand fell limply in his.
“Whore.” Her father sneered and slapped her across the face when he was finished. Kioko’s body was sore, her clothes torn, her eyes wet from unshed tears. Her father got up and left the room, taking a bottle of sake with him.
Kioko pulled herself up off the floor and attempted to stand up. The aching in her body barely let her crawl into the bathroom. She turned the water on hot and sat in the shower, nursing the wounds covering her body, crying silently. She was thirteen years old.