A World of Shadows

Deutsch: Ich weis das ich habe versprochen zu erst in Deutsch und dan Englisch zu schreiben aber dieses mal ich schaft das nicht. Ich muss das raus von Kopf nehmen. Das ist eine neue anfang von ein Buch das ich habe für eine menge zeit versucht to schreiben und ich muss es in English schreiben. Veleicht dannach kann ich das Ubersentzen.
English: I know that I promised to write in German and then English but this time it's not possible. I need to get this out of my head. It's a new begining for a book that I have been wanting to write for a while and I need to write it in English. Maybe I can translate it later.


This world that I live in is strange. Everything around me is a shadow itself. The only light there is comes from the sun, stars, and moon. The world seems to be in an ordered chaos. Everything is different day to day but some things are the same. The sun goes up and back down. The stars and the moon shine. Even when there are clouds hiding them from view, they are always there. It gives a routine to life. And so does school. Every day I go and learn. There is always something new to learn. But even if the classes are generally orderly, most of the time there is something that breaks the order. The halls have their own ordered chaos too. Everyone is heading from one class to another, talking with people, saying hi to friends. There are also those who run through the halls recklessly, bringing greater chaos to the already chaotic halls.

But still. It feels like there is so much life around me but everything is just a shadow. Colored, moving shadows. But shadows none the less. And I am the darkest shadow of them all. I walk through the halls, dodging the milling people around me. I walk out into the sun and feel the warmth of its rays on my face. I go home and watch the stars come out at night. I wake up to the moon rising making the shadows glow. There is one question that I have running through my mind day to shadowed day: is there a reason for this shadowed world? I have tried to find the answer all my life, but still can't seem to find it hidden amoung the ordered chaos of this dark world.

A New Book of Mine Titled "Changeling"

Prologue

Looking back on my life I can see the many mistakes I have made. I can see the hurt that I and the others around me have had because of my actions. But perhaps it’s those memories that keep me striving for something more – something just barely within my grasp if I try hard enough. And yet… and yet I still feel as if I will never reach there. As I lay in my bed, thinking about the past and what the future may have in store for me, I wonder how I’m supposed to go on when life seems so hopeless. As I slowly blink and look up at the blanket of stars, I remember why I do what I do and my promise to myself.

$20 Lemonade Stand

This is a true story.

One day, Mrs. Jacobs was driving home after grocery shopping. She passed a lemonade stand run by a bunch of kids, waving signs with '25 cent lemonade' written on them. She decided to buy one, only didn't pay 25 cents or even $1. She gave the kids $20 for one cup of lemonade, got back in the car and drove home.

The moral of this story isn't to buy lemonade from kids, but rather to be generous and kind.

The challenge of this story is that one day, when you have kids, give a random group of kids **$20** for a cup of lemonade. Pass the story on and give others the challenge.

**It doesn't have to be $20. Just whatever you can afford and still be generous.*

Something new...

Love. That’s a normal 13 year old’s first thought when she sees someone gorgeous. Especially when it’s Eddie Backer. His soft, shiny hair, twinkling blue eyes, dazzlingly white smile. He had any girl he could ever want wrapped around his finger. Except me. I couldn’t stand the sight of him. None of my friends understood why, but none of he could see what I saw: the truth.

I’m Elsie Bradburry. I’m not the normal teen. I’m not even human. I’m not sure what I am, but I’m not as normal as everyone thinks. I look normal, but magic can easily hide the differences between my body and the average teen’s.

Pointed ears, slated eyes, extra-long eyelashes, longer canine teeth, extra long hair, blood-red pupils. At first I thought I was an elf, then a vampire. I’m neither of those. I don’t have extra awesome reflexes or long life. I’m not invincible and don’t thirst for blood. I actually abhor the thought of eating any meet no matter the species. I’m the absolute opposite of a vampire.

The reason I destest Eddie Backer is not because he is a blood-sucking feind. Rather because of the way he treats my kind: magic kind. He is just a regular human with the knowledge of the magic world. To an extent. He doesn’t know what I actually am but he knows of other people who are like me: different; not entirely human. Hidden amongst the hustle and bustle, the rushing to and fro, the business of life. Some hide behind full body masks, creating an illusion of normalcy just like me. Some look perfectly normal, just have to keep their attitudes in check. But most choose to separate themselves from the world. The majority are different but choose to hide.

 The few humans who know of our world choose to ignore the truth. Few of them act upon the knowledge and fewer of those act kindly. Eddie is one of those few who choose the easier action: to act unkindly in defense against something that’s different. He chose hatred, racism and violence, and as someone who has always excepted people as they are, even the vampires, I could not understand his feelings towards those in possession of magic. Towards my people. As much as I loath and despise some of them, they are still my people.

My friends could never understand. They always said “What’s wrong with you? He’s a perfectly nice person. Plus he’s so cute!” but they didn’t know my big secret. I could never tell them, as much as I wanted to. They would react out of horror and fear instead of wonderment, sympathy and support.

I didn’t have a single person in the world who knew my secret. Not even my parents. I didn’t even know who they were. They didn’t exist in my memory. And if they are alive today, they are nowhere near here. But sometimes I feel as though someone is watching me…

I was startled out of my revere as MaKayla shook me, yelling in my face.

“Hey! Are you listening to anything I’m saying? I’m trying to explain why Eddie is such a great guy! Oh forget it! You don’t normally listen anyways!”

Thoughts

Thoughts. All you need is a thought and boom..... something completely new has been started: and idea, an invention, a story. Your body holds your thoughts and puts the most powerful ones into actions. One idea to start it all. Everything in history was started because of one small thing in someone's mind. You can't find anything from the beginning of time that wasn't started because of an idea.

Anything, including the war. I was there. I saw it and witnessed it's destruction. I felt the devistation of thousands of lives and the ruin of countless cities. I know the sorrow and the anger that was bred because of it all.

Empires were destroyed, species wiped out, civilizations erased from the map. Things changed, and few live to remember how it was and most choose to shove those memories into the backs of their minds, the dustiest corners so they will never be seen agian. No record exists for writing it would be too painful a memory and too great a task to ask of anyone. Except her.

She was there before the war and she still remains. No one knows how old she truly is. Perhaps even she has forgotten. But a war such as that can never be forgotten by those that live to remember it.

A Hopeless Love

Introduction: A small twist to Beauty and the Beast.

Some ways off, there grew a mysterious wood.  No one dared trespass in this wood for any who had, seldom returned.  In this strange and forbidden wood stood a castle.  This castle was also enchanted, and captive within was a nameless beast.  It is here, in this enchanted castle in a strange wood, where our story begins.

He stared out the window at the pouring rain.  It was always dark here as if his castle was locked in its own dungeon.  When the sun shone, its light never seemed to reach this magnificent palace or through its numerous windows.  The sun always seemed like a small, golden sphere shining its light everywhere except on this accursed place. In his hand he clutched a rose that was his love and fear.  It was a curse just as much as a gift.  It was the only beautiful thing in the palace, but it was also the most fearsome.  One solitary petal dropped onto the floor beside his ghastly feet.  As he stared at the petal, a distant door seemed to creak and he heard the indistinct voice of an old man.

He would have left him alone but for the voices of two servants that welcomed the man in.  What they offered this man appalled him to the greatest extent.  Who is this trespasser who DARES enter my prison and sit in comfort as I wait miserably for this nightmare to become reality?  How DARE my two servants offer him what I have strictly forbidden to any male passer whether he be young or old?  With these thoughts pulsing through his mind, he ran down the stairs and burst into a room lit with a warm fire.  The wind from the opening of the doors blew the brilliant flame to nothing but smoldering coals.

Amidst protests and endless pleading, he dragged the trespasser up the stairs to a tower filled with straw and cells.  He threw the man into a cell and went angrily back to where his rose rested.  He cradled the beautiful, fallen petal in his wolf-like hands and placed it in a jar along with the rest of the petals from the rose.  He thought of the many other petals that had fallen to the ground.  There were only three petals left on the enchanted rose.  Only three more days till the curse was complete and there was no escaping his now horrible form.

In those three days he must love and get a female to love him in return.  To that end did he still live.  But it was hopeless to do what must be done to break this foul curse.  How could a beast and a beauty fall in love over three days?

He brooded there for hours on end, thinking over his past life and then imagining the terrible life to come once his curse truly imprisoned him forever.  As he stared up at the thick, grey curtain that was the ceiling of his prison, he wished that the sun would truly shine just once before this nightmare became his true but terrible reality.  Here, the sky cried relentlessly, mourning the appalling curse that had been put upon him.  It was as if the sky knew his future and cried for the loss of joy it would have.  He could only imagine the despair and resentment that would come upon him if he never broke what the rose represented.

Slowly, as the moonless night wore on, his eyelids began to droop until he fell into restless slumber.  He dreamed of his father and mother; opening the door to find an unsightly woman standing before him; the woman turning into a beautiful and powerful witch; becoming the thing he now was; and seeing what he wished to, but never would, become.

When he awoke, he noticed that yet another crimson petal had fallen to the floor.  Stooping down, he laid it with the rest.  Only two more till it was complete.  It was against all hope that he wished for a miracle.  He knew none would come, but without hope, what did he have to live for?  Nothing.  Wishing for something else to think on, he stared helplessly at his rose, willing the last two petals to not fall but miraculously stay immovable on the wilting flower.

He sat there brooding his unwelcomed curse, and yet another petal fell.  He did not bother to place the solitary petal along with the others.  He had no strength left.  He let it lay there while he stared at it, unwilling to move or answer his servants’ pleading questions.  It was almost over, his nightmare, but his now locked reality was just about to begin.  He closed his eyes and slept, resting well for the first time since the rose had come into his possession.

He was awakened by the sound of distant creaking and the calling of a young girl’s voice.  He started down the stairs at a more relaxed but excited pace than before.  Upon reaching the bottom, he finally beheld the beautiful girl to whom the voice belonged.

She was a little thing and he seemed to wallow forever in the green ocean of her big, round eyes.  Her face was pale, but her nose and ears were rosy for the weather outside was cold.  Her dress was nothing extraordinary, made from simple cloth, but it complimented her body perfectly.  Her hair flew unruly from her head like an irrepressible wild fire.

As he stared in wonder at this young virgin, he wondered if she could ever learn to love him.  While his thoughts drifted to fantasies he knew would not come true, the young woman took notice of him for the first time.  Her gaze pierced his soul.  In her eyes, he saw his reflection: wolf-like face with human eyes, razor sharp teeth meant for killing, dark brown, almost black, fur covering him from head to toe, his frightening body morphed to be like a wolf’s but combined with a human.  In here eyes, he saw himself but also saw fear.

“Where is my father? I know you have him,” she said in a shaky but demanding voice.

“He is my prisoner and is staying in the dungeons of the highest of all the towers in my castle,” he replied.

“Please, let him out and give him to me to take home,” pleaded the girl.

“Only if you stay,” he bargained, but against all hope.

“Not for all the love in the world could I stay with a beast such as yourself,” retorted the girl.

“Then take him and leave me. Be gone!” he yelled with sad finality.

As the girl ran up the stairs to retrieve her father, he turned and went back to watch the dying rose that would set the course of his future for time and all eternity.  He went to the window with the rose in his hand and watched as two blurred forms struggled through the rain and out of the gate that bound him prisoner.  As he stared, a single tear fell on the last petal of the dying rose, shimmering like a diamond resting on red velvet.  Together, tear and petal fell to seal his doom as the Beast cried from anguished grief.