Status: Under construction, lovlies, but feel free to check out.
Like Air.
We Are Not Secrets
She stood as an imposing figure, not quite disturbing the otherworldly flow through the medium, but a stone-still silhouette; almost part of the scenery. She stood at the bank of the murky pond, not quite wholly part of the world. Her eyes, yet trained on the family of wood ducks trailing through the algae-choked water, were unseeing, or rather, seeing something that was alien to the rest of the world. Kirsten squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to grasp the odd sensation seeping through her.
Perhaps if someone had been passing through at that moment, they would have seen (maybe they would conclude they had imagined it), a sort of golden energy... Glowing inside her- around her? Perhaps if her eyes would have been opened, it could be seen that there was something not quite right about them. Aside from the fact that they were an odd bluish-purple shade (as they have always naturally been) there was something slightly... off. Though she knew that she was... considerably different from most, there was a part of her buried deep, waiting for its moment to be revealed.
We are not secrets
The words seemingly appeared from nowhere. They were certainly not from her. If she would have known better she would have thought that the words came from a separate being altogether, but when she opened her eyes once more, she found that she was alone.
The otherworldly feeling ebbed away and left her there, feeling almost empty, lacking the energy that was not her own but from some kind of lingering spectre. The words remained in her mind and she held them there. Kirsten was, for lack of a better word, a superstitious girl and kept this in mind. They might come back in the future.
We are not secrets.
The spectre whisked away from her, and did not come back. Not for a long time.
Returning back to reality, she instinctively lifted her face towards the sky. The area around her smelled like an assortment of rotting wild flowers and suckles, and also the mildew-bleeding pond mixing with the humidity of last night's rain, and the graze behind her that reeked of cattle and hay. The ground was slightly squelchy and very muddy. Not the best place to be. She slung on her bag and headed northeast to fight through the underbrush when she heard movement behind her. Kirsten had not heard him coming.
Kirk was damp from head to toe. On the way to campus he had fallen through a cumulus cloud thick with condensation, and landed into a graze, nearly striking a cow with a brown hide. His ribs were still slightly aching, he was wet, and he smelled like cattle. Great. Just great. He straggled over the wooden fence surrounding the area, and was stumbling across the shortcut when he saw her, standing beside the pond like it was nobody's business. There was something weird about it all. Kirk was also "superstitious" and ever so slightly paranoid, to add. She turned to leave when she saw him there, hair trickling water and face damp as if he were perspiring. He wiped his face with his sleeve to dry it a bit, to no avail.
The two, apparently heading to the same destination, turn towards the belt of trees and underbrush blocking them from the grassy slope that eventually would lead to the two unkempt soccer fields. Kirk thought he'd heard her say something along the lines of 'weird secrets'. The words slightly unnerved him, but he decided against asking in case she never said anything and he would seem even more odd and conspicuous. He didn't want that; He wanted to blend in and not be noticed. It was best.
After a brief exchange of introductions, the two pushed through the overgrown belt of oaks with twisting, thick moss and partially decomposed, musty leaves.
As they silently mulled over whatever thoughts they kept to themselves meanwhile, they could feel something ahead of them, in their minds, something big, challenging, almost frightening, and somehow invisible all at once.
Now they had passed through the unruly belt of oaks and were steadily walking across one of the soccer fields. The elaborate work of wood and brick, individual buildings of the school, loomed before them.
Another semester in Hell.
If only they knew.
Perhaps if someone had been passing through at that moment, they would have seen (maybe they would conclude they had imagined it), a sort of golden energy... Glowing inside her- around her? Perhaps if her eyes would have been opened, it could be seen that there was something not quite right about them. Aside from the fact that they were an odd bluish-purple shade (as they have always naturally been) there was something slightly... off. Though she knew that she was... considerably different from most, there was a part of her buried deep, waiting for its moment to be revealed.
We are not secrets
The words seemingly appeared from nowhere. They were certainly not from her. If she would have known better she would have thought that the words came from a separate being altogether, but when she opened her eyes once more, she found that she was alone.
The otherworldly feeling ebbed away and left her there, feeling almost empty, lacking the energy that was not her own but from some kind of lingering spectre. The words remained in her mind and she held them there. Kirsten was, for lack of a better word, a superstitious girl and kept this in mind. They might come back in the future.
We are not secrets.
The spectre whisked away from her, and did not come back. Not for a long time.
Returning back to reality, she instinctively lifted her face towards the sky. The area around her smelled like an assortment of rotting wild flowers and suckles, and also the mildew-bleeding pond mixing with the humidity of last night's rain, and the graze behind her that reeked of cattle and hay. The ground was slightly squelchy and very muddy. Not the best place to be. She slung on her bag and headed northeast to fight through the underbrush when she heard movement behind her. Kirsten had not heard him coming.
Kirk was damp from head to toe. On the way to campus he had fallen through a cumulus cloud thick with condensation, and landed into a graze, nearly striking a cow with a brown hide. His ribs were still slightly aching, he was wet, and he smelled like cattle. Great. Just great. He straggled over the wooden fence surrounding the area, and was stumbling across the shortcut when he saw her, standing beside the pond like it was nobody's business. There was something weird about it all. Kirk was also "superstitious" and ever so slightly paranoid, to add. She turned to leave when she saw him there, hair trickling water and face damp as if he were perspiring. He wiped his face with his sleeve to dry it a bit, to no avail.
The two, apparently heading to the same destination, turn towards the belt of trees and underbrush blocking them from the grassy slope that eventually would lead to the two unkempt soccer fields. Kirk thought he'd heard her say something along the lines of 'weird secrets'. The words slightly unnerved him, but he decided against asking in case she never said anything and he would seem even more odd and conspicuous. He didn't want that; He wanted to blend in and not be noticed. It was best.
After a brief exchange of introductions, the two pushed through the overgrown belt of oaks with twisting, thick moss and partially decomposed, musty leaves.
As they silently mulled over whatever thoughts they kept to themselves meanwhile, they could feel something ahead of them, in their minds, something big, challenging, almost frightening, and somehow invisible all at once.
Now they had passed through the unruly belt of oaks and were steadily walking across one of the soccer fields. The elaborate work of wood and brick, individual buildings of the school, loomed before them.
Another semester in Hell.
If only they knew.
♠ ♠ ♠
The SECOND gutted and renovated version of chapter 2.What do you think of it?
Does anyone know a song that can match what this chapter was about?
Not having a song-inspired title bothers me [/spaz]