~Lost~

The days are blot outwith tongues made of darkness
Words of ignorance shout
Smug arrogant righteousness
Are far from true

The void overwhelms this place
listen how the music is gone
Lost within the black
All color seeps away,
Years of self-made lies and deceit
The web of the universe
Unravels in the confusion
Binding the light of truth

Listen how the mighty Tree weeps
Bending deep like the delicate willow
Oh how, Gaia, cries for the 'Lost',
Release her wanderer,
the soul built from the stones,
those of his magic, mystery, and perplexity,
stones of black, and white, and unknown

A spirit cries out
Anxious for the sun's return
For his release,
For without the warmth
to the spirit, heart and mind
there is nothing but an abyss of emptiness.

(I dedicate this to a friend that is currently 'lost')

57th Short Story Entry

This theme we had to start with "It was a dark and stormy night", keep the words to about 600, and had to use a 57 Chevy and a Cat. I think. Here are the two stories that I submitted. (I forgot the chevy part.)

Reconditioning

It was a dark and stormy night. Everywhere I looked in the room I saw blood splattered throughout looking more like modern art than gore. A bright flash of light just outside the window followed with the distant crackle of thunder made me aware that the storm was only becoming more intense. I let out my breath looking for the source of the blood. How did I find myself in this place? Was in the middle of a crime scene or something? Where the hell was I? I swallowed back the bile creeping up my throat as the stench began to overwhelm me.

The mew of a cat circling between my legs took my attention away from the blood. The cat and I were also splattered with the blood. My heart could not be contained and cold dread washed over me my hands were also stained with blood. How did I get in here? I wondered picking up the cat glancing at the closed door. He purred loudly as I scratched his chin. A cold paw pressed against my face as he devoured my affection. I looked at him curiously wondering how he had gotten there too.

There was a knock at the door but before I could answer it opened. A man in a brown suit or uniform of sorts walked in. He adjusted his glasses surveying the room. A small smile touched his lips as he pulled a clipboard from behind him. The cat gave the man a hiss digging an affectionate claw into my cheek freeing him from my arms. The man made a couple of scribbles onto the clipboard before looking at me.

“Where am I?” I managed feeling awkwardness using my voice.

The man gave me a nod before scribbling on his clipboard again. He returned behind his back. He scratched his temple then adjusted his glasses as he looked around the room. He nodded a few times before bringing his gaze back to me. I took a step forward and came to an abrupt halt by something hard around my ankle. I looked with surprise at the manacle around my ankle keeping me bound to the floor.

“Where the fuck, am I?” I snarled kicking at the chain glaring back at him.

“Reconditioning,” He said pulling the clipboard from behind his back. He scribbled a few things down then looked at me. “What is the last thing you remember?”

I glared at him. Lightening lit the room and the gore was worse than I had first thought. ‘The last thing I remember was the cat,’ I thought. I brushed my fingers against my cheek where his rough tongue had lapped until I woke up. I looked back to where the cat had gone. There was a deep protective instinct that overwhelmed me that I needed to keep him safe.

“Waking up in this room,” I muttered looking back at him.

He gave a nod and scribbled some more. The fact that he kept writing on the clipboard was starting to irritate me. He tucked it behind him again wondering what he was doing. He shifted and adjusted his glasses. He extended his hand behind him out of my view, but when it returned to view he held a syringe filled with some blackish goo. 

Flashes of screaming and pain flooded my mind. I stumbled backward tripping over the chain falling hard onto the floor. I let out a yelp and the cat began hissing madly from the darkness. I glanced toward the darkness then heard the footsteps in front of me. I gasped with surprise as the man took my arm in a vice-like grip plunging the syringe into it.

The thick goo flooded me with pain. The cat hissed and spat yet he still remained hidden in the darkness. The blackness of the injection was consuming my arm. I looked wildly at the man as he gave my cheek a comforting pat. Slowly he stood giving one last glance into the darkened corner of the room before he left the room.

Just as the door closed behind him I heard him say, “Subject 57, reconditioned.”

_______________________________________________________________

Rendezvous

It was a dark and stormy night, how’s that for a clique? Yet it was a dark and stormy night when I walked into the lobby of the dilapidated hotel. The stench of musty mold intensified in the rain. I shook the rain from my coat as I looked around the rundown place.

I glanced over my shoulder at the number painted on the door. ‘57’ that was the right street number.

I gaze when to the short round balding man standing behind the counter. He mopped the sweat from his brow as I walked toward him. My heels echoed each step giving an eerie kind of sound accompanied by the rain behind me.

The man gave me a leering smile. I shifted bringing my hand to the opening of my blouse and clutching it closed. I cleared my throat as he looked at me with anticipation.

“Is there a reservation here for Jones?” I asked clearing my throat glancing once more over my shoulder uncertain the number was right.

“Of course.” His voice was soft and it sounded like a sigh. “You did not make the reservations.”

“Uh, no.” I shifted unzipping my purse. Nervously I pulled out my phone. My heart skipped a beat that I hadn’t heard the text message, but from an unknown number.

“Oh you need a key.” He made a couple of key stroke into the computer then began shuffling through some things for a key.

I shivered at the cold that pricked at my neck. I just wanted the key and the room number so I could relax but until then I would be a bundle of nerves. He turned to face me and slid the keycard slowly across the counter. His finger pressed firmly against it as I looked at it.

“Do you need anything else?” I was breathless feeling awkward as I reached for the key.

“Everything has already been paid for.” He said with a shrug. “The Champaign, chocolate and fruit were delivered only a few moments ago.”

“Champaign, chocolate and fruit?” I frowned.

I glanced down at the text message and read. ‘Treats are waiting for you, angel, as am I.’

I gave a nod toward the man behind the counter and started to turn. “Ms Jones?” the man said with a chuckle. I looked at him and he pointed toward a hallway. “Room 157 is that
way.”

I nodded my thanks and walked numbly toward the room. I screamed at the sound of a screech and a hiss a blur of black and white fur went scampering down the corridor. “Stupid cat!” I growled. My heart was pounding twice as hard as it should. I glanced at each door as I walked nervously glancing at the keycard.

I walked faster until I found the room. I stood at the door uncertain if I should knock or not. I held the keycard in my clammy hands I had been anticipating the cloak and
dagger getaway for months. Now, the time had come. would it be a thrill once I
wanted through that door or a let down? I could heard the television on in the room part of me cringed that the television worked.

I slid the keycard into the slot. The red light flash then turn green and the mechanism in the door release. The garbled noise from within instantly became mute. I shivered taking a quick breath before I pushed open the door hoping the television would remain silent. I feared a battle.

“Hello, angel,” the deep voice said the moment I closed the door.

I smiled as I looked at him. “This is silly.” I said dropping my purse when he pulled me into his arms kissing me anxiously.

“Silly to want to be with you?” he breathed softly into my ear.

“Silly that we went through all this.” I breathed. “We could have just stayed at home.”

His fingers nimbly worked my clothes to the floor. “No, Tara, my angel,” He breathed his kisses down my neck. “It’s about spice.” His breath tenderly caressing my flesh. “I need to give you more spice.”

“After all these years you still surprise me, darling.”

My 6th Writing Contest:

The topic for the 55th Short Story Challenge is: Family History.

ᏅᎾ ᏓᎤᎳ ᏨᏱ  (Nunna daul Isunyi—“the Trail Where They Cried”)

~~

The journey to the West had already been long and treacherous. More people died each day. There were those of the White nation that wore white and black that walked with us as if it were a badge of honor. I despised them. They could go to their homes of wood and stone when we could no longer worship Yowa, the Great Spirit. 

~

I was witness to many families and homes of my clan destroyed by the law givers of the white man. I did not understand how my clan of the Cherokee Nation was not recognized as a sovereign and independent nation. For as long as I could remember we lived in harmony with the white men. My father traded with them, and had many that would come and share our food. 

~

When the soldiers came herding us like cattle I knew the great Nation I had known was no longer. I just did not expect to be forced to leave our homes. Least of all lead by the very same men that we befriended. It was they that released our cattle to the fields then would beat the young men for trying to contain our livelihood. Some were beaten to their death. The medicine man blamed the Nun'Yunu'Wi for changing our friends to our enemies.

~

I was too stubborn to cry but I also had hope. Hope that forged from the tears that were cried we would be a stronger Nation. We had to be stronger. Too many had already suffered for us not to be. I hated that the innocence of the children were lost. I had to be strong for them and because I would also be part of that new Nation in the West. 

~

I did my best to keep my head high and proud because I was the future. Yet I worried that I would die too. The winter was cold and bitter and I was one of the few that had moccasins. Blankets were given to the children and Elders from a hospital, but we soon learned they were infected blankets. We were not allowed to go into any towns or villages along the way because of the epidemic they had given us.

~

Most nights I would gather the children close to the fire telling them our ancestor’s stories so they would be strong. Their favorite story was that of the Cherokee Rose. A plant with seven leaves for the seven clans of the Cherokee. It was a delicate white rose with five petals, in the center of the blossom would be a pile of gold to remind our people of the white man’s greed for gold they found on our homeland. The plant would be sturdy and strong with stickers on all the stems defying anything which tries to destroy it.

~

Several soldiers ensured the relocation of my people. There were some that would give extra provisions to those women that would warm them at night. I would not favor any man wearing the fancy clothes of blue and gold. Even though they tried. I ignored them and they ignored me usually. Except for the new ones to the regiment. 

“Are you Laura?” A young soldier asked slowing his horse next to me. “I was told you see things.”

I glared ahead and quickened my pace. The man jingled getting off his horse. I kept my pace brisk but he still followed. I despised the new ones. 

“I had a dream,” He said walking next to me. “It is about these two brothers. They are identical except one in gray and one in black. They are battling over a scrap of bread on the table. While fighting the bread is lost and they destroy their home by fire. Can you tell me what that means, Laura?” 

He gave me a smile, but I gave him a glare as I stopped. “I am Uyetsasgvi Ama. Your people’s words say it Laughing Waters, not Laura.” I hated how the white man’s language felt strange in my mouth when I spoke. 

“I see.” he said with a timid smile. “I think Laughing Waters is pretty.” 

“It is honor not pretty.” I said flatly. “Your dream simple.” I flick the gold rope on his shoulder. “The brothers you speak are your brothers. It is a war not a battle. The reason forgotten until fire comes.” I let out a breath. “Your sorrow will be greater than ours.” I gave him one more look before I returned to the journey with my people. I felt a renewed strength as I walked. Strangely I pitied the man but I did not look back. Everything was going to be different for him soon too.

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