Write every day.
Some time ago I joined a Facebook group called Creativity is Contagious. The group is run by Kristen Palana, an amazing woman, artist, mother, and teacher.
The idea behind the group is to create something every day. We’re not talking major works of art or completed manuscripts here. We’re talking about doing something, no matter how small, related to your creative field every day.
The reason to create every day is because the more creative you are, the more creative you are. What this means is that the more you use your creative muscle, the stronger it gets. The more you practice, the better you get. The more creativity you put out there, the more creativity flows through you and to you.
It doesn’t matter if we think what we created is crap. It only matters that we created. We then post pictures of our creations. Most of the people in the group are artists working on visual creations. I am one of the few working on writing. I post little snippets of my works in progress every few days or so.
The group understands that life happens, and most people don’t post every day. We all lead busy lives.
I’ve saved all of the little snippets that I put on the Creativity is Contagious Facebook page. I thought that I would put that document up here to share with my readers. It is little snippets of whatever writing I might be working on at the moment. The writing is not perfect. There are errors. It is all a big WIP. Not all of this will make it into the stories.
Keep in mind that these snippets might be confusing. I write all over the place. Can you say panster. The snippets are listed here in no particular order so one snippet might be closer to the end, while another might be in the middle, and still another near the beginning. And to confuse matters even more, they may or may not be from the same story!
If you’re so inclined to read my little snippets, have fun and enjoy. Here they are as they appeared on Creativity is Contagious.
“Let’s bring her now.”
“No. Her time isn’t right. She’s not ready. Her mind might break.”
The voices in the void slowly penetrated Amanda’s awareness. Her eyes flew open. Blackness. She always slept in total dark. She almost whispered “Who’s there?” But she stayed silent. Amanda lay still in bed. She remained unmoving while her eyes searched the black. Nothing. Was she dreaming? Again?
“I love you Carrie.” Those words still lingered in her head.
For the first time David said “I love you Carrie.”
why had he waited so long to say it? Why had he waited until she said goodbye?
Anna has grown up. I can see her walking along the beach, barefoot, kicking at the sand, same as she has done nearly every morning for the past five years. Her blond hair is long, very long. It flows down her back and past the bottom of her shorts tickling the back of her thighs. Oh, I shouldn’t be looking at Anna’s thighs.
The almost full moon cast a silver glint over the sea. It shone a bright path right to the shore where the waves lapped molten to the sand. The rest of the water, dark shadows and silvery highlights, rose and fell to the ever present rythym of the ocean. Twyla stood on the shore, another night gazing out to sea. The silver sheen, so intense on the sea tonight, raised her hopes, and she half expected the Argana to slide into view at any moment.
She was out there. Twyla could feel her. Twyla always knew when the Argana was out there. Tonight she was close. But not close enough.
“All right.” Laiya slid the mug of ale across the table to Tirian and plunked herself in the seat opposite. “Tell me why you hate Lauren so much. “
It was a small ship with a small crew. Everyone slept, everyone except Gina. Gina was awake. She didn’t know the exact time but figured it to be well past midnight. Why me? She thought to herself. Why does it have to be me? Why am I the one who has to protect? Why do I have to be the one to keep the secrets?
“I always thought you and me would end up together, you know.”
“And yet you killed me.”
“Oh that. Can’t we just let it be water under the bridge by now?”
Diane didn’t know what possessed her do it, but she sidled up to Ian, raised up onto the balls of her feet and whispered into his ear lyrics to one of her favorite songs – the song playing through the stereo system right now. She whispered in tune with the vocals :
“Let’s dance here alone. Nowhere else to go.”
If he winked at her she might lose it, not in a good way. And then he did. He turned in her direction, smiled the secret impish smile reserved only for her, then winked and held her gaze for a second too long before turning back to the crowd, stumbling and spilling more beer than he was drinking. She thought to herself “If I don’t kill you Lauren, the booze will.” Suddenly she hated him a little less than she had just ten seconds ago.
He pulled his eyes away from hers and caressed her body with his gaze. Golden light from the torches shimmered and flickered doing an eerie dance on her naked skin. He leaned closer and let his lips barely touch her neck. Tirian shuddered slightly.
Only the most desperate, or the very brave, or the downright stupid, sailed directly across the sea. Unless you were Halloran, then you sailed wherever you wanted. Not a single pirate would ever dare to attack Halloran. They feared him. But even more so they feared Her. They feared The Ship.
“Jesus! He’s a boy Iliha!”
“He’ll be a man soon enough. Why not help him along a little?”
“God you’re sick. I’m not into boys. I prefer men. And he’s blond, boring. “
“Yeah, I’m not much into blonds either, but he’s just so cute!”
“He is cute. I’ll concede to that. I see why all the girls go ape shit over him, but he’s just not my thing.”
Ilhiana laughed. “Ape shit? You say the strangest things.”
Amanda ignored her. “I mean besides the pretty factor, he is so charming and precocious. How can they resist him?”
“They can’t. I can’t. I’m gonna make him a man tonight.”
“Oh dear God.”
She wanted to hurry her check, but she didn’t. You never hurry your check. Even though the suit was climate controlled, she felt the chill to her very core. The dark pressed into her, and the silence roared. Then she heard it. Her mouth went dry. Her heart pounded. Panic gripped her as the hair on her neck rose, the skin on her back crawled, and goosebumps covered her arms.
Gina wanted to run. You couldn’t run, however, in a spacesuit floating in space while tethered to a small ship out in the middle of a black void of nothingness. Nothingness. Yet something was out here. The fear almost paralyzed her. Yet somehow she managed to pull herself in with the tether.
“They like to bring people from other realms here.”
“Why?”
“Only they can answer that.”
“Who are they?”
“No one knows for sure. Beings from another world, or dimension, or plane of existence perhaps. Some believe they are working by the divine grace of God. Others believe they have their own agenda serving only them.”
“And which do you believe it is?”
He lowered his eyes slightly and said “I have no opinion either way.”
She looked at him intently for a moment. Clearly he was lying. He had an opinion. She didn’t push him on that point, however, instead she asked “How can I contact them so I can ask them what they want with me?”
Dylan knew the cube wasn’t for him. It couldn’t be. When he held it, it felt like nothing in his hands. At first he was excited when Ethan gave him the cube. To an impressionable eight year old whose father frequently traveled to exotic places to study the rare and the odd, the cube, along with it’s legends, was the stuff of fantasies. It didn’t take long, however, for Dylan to know that the cube had a different master.
He studied the legends. He read all the old texts that his father brought home. The old man had said to Ethan “Your child will save the world, and he will do it with this.” The old man said “he.” All the texts, however, said “His offspring,” “His child,” or “His seed.”
Dylan knew who the cube belonged to. He had already given it to her.
She had been chatting with one of the locals and sipping on a dark ale that tasted exquisite. Served at room temperature, the strong ale went down easy. Her favorite kind of beer, dark, strong, and smooth, it warmed her belly giving her just the right glow. But then Lauren waltzed in.
Joe liked the inns too, but he also liked the traveler’s rests. He liked the quiet and how you could go outside and see all the stars. He often commented on how eerie it felt to look up and see all those amazing stars and not recognize any of it. It was different, like the Universe had shifted or something. Maybe the Universe had shifted. Amanda didn’t know.
She did know, however, that she liked Joe.
If you were lucky enough to catch it just right, even in the darkest night, a tiny glint of her shimmering silver might sometimes be seen. And in the bright light of day, if she so desired, she put on a blinding display of light and silver that awed any onlookers. Most of the time though, she just looked like a normal ship, until you got close enough to see the silvery sheen of the wooden planks that made up her hull. Then you knew she was different.
She listened. The haunting, chilling sound of the howling actually gave her some solace. These sounded like normal wolves. That meant The Others likely were not about. If they were near, the wolves would be silent. The wolves and The Others tended to shy away from one another.
“They will find me.”
He looked at her and asked “Who will find you?”
“My family, my friends, the police!”
“The police?” His tone suggested that he didn’t know what that meant.
Incredulous she said “Yes. Police. They arrest people.”
“Arrest?”
Amanda sighed “Arrest. You know take them to jail.”
His expression looked blank.
“What rock did you crawl out from under? Arrest. Jail. Take them to prison!”
“Ahhhh.” He nodded in understanding, finally “Prison. They detain them. You mean Officials.” Then he added “I do not crawl. And I certainly do not crawl under rocks.”
She stared at him with wide eyes. She didn’t know whether to laugh or be amazed or just shake her head in disbelief.
He flashed that big disarming smile at the first bar maid he saw and said “Hey beautiful you know what I want.” He couldn’t say it without the innuendo. The bar maid blushed a little. Only Lauren could make a seasoned bar maid blush. She brought him a large tankard filled with his favorite foamy brew. He graciously took the tankard from her then pulled her by the waist to him, almost kissed her but didn’t, then twirled her away and bowed to her. Then he laughed and took a long swig of the beer.
The Others had drugged him. His head lolled from side to side, and he was singing, something about misty eyes and heartbreak. It might have been endearing, except they were going to kill him. She couldn’t let that happen.
“Haven’t you ever heard of acapella? I’ll bet you sound great.” Then she said “Hey. I know a place where the acoustics are amazing; you won’t need any microphone there. It’s not that far from here, only a day or two.”
“Only a day or two? That’s not far?”
“Relatively speaking. It’s on the itinerary. That’s where we were heading anyway. It’s quiet, and it’s safe, relatively speaking.”
He snorted. “Nowhere is really safe here right?”
“Right.”
Joe smiled. “OK. Let’s go then.”
The kiss came long and slow and tender.
She looked down and saw her own reflection. The railing creaked louder and gave a little. She eased back some. That water looked a little too cold for an inpromptu swim. The railing held. She looked back over the lake. It’s beauty tore at her soul. The loneliness settled in deeper.
This had to be the coolest traveler’s rest she had seen yet. The small cabin built right over the water rested on sturdy pillars maybe six or so feet in the air. Rowboats docked underneath bobbed and swayed with the gentle current. The view from the deck took her breath away. Across the lake, tall peaks rose straight from the water. Evergreens covered the sides until about half way up where the peaks then became barren rock, and as the peaks rose higher snow covered their tips even though it was late summer now.
As lovely as this place was, she wouldn’t want to be here in winter.
Lauren held tight to his tankard as his friends bandied him about. They laughed and joked and cursed while Lauren stumbled and laughed and joked with them. His blond hair shone golden in the torchlight of the pub, just like it did in another pub on another night a long time ago. It could have been the same scene, the same night, but it wasn’t.
Amanda had a hard time focusing on work. She kept seeing those dark eyes from the dream gazing at her. No. They weren’t gazing. They were penetrating her, begging, pleading with her. What? What did he want? More of the surroundings came to her memory. She noticed his hands were bound. Someone pushed him to the ground. He knelt right in front of her, his face so close to her’s he could have kissed her. That’s when she realized she was also kneeling on the ground, but she wasn’t bound. No one seemed to know she was there, no one except this man with the scruffy long black hair and the penetrating eyes, eyes that as they looked into her made her spine tingle.
Amanda watched Joe now as he stoked the fire. She sipped her tea and wished they were at an inn where she could have gotten some ale, or maybe even a bit of wine. She wouldn’t turn down a good glass of wine tonight. Shadows played around the room. Light from the fire and torches highlighted reddish glints in Joe’s brown hair.
Tirian retched into the tall grass then wrapped her arms around herself and rocked. A tear escaped her eye, and as the realization hit her the sobs started slow and silent. She felt like this once before. She didn’t want to do this again. She had already loved and lost another man. She didn’t want to love and lose another child.
He smiled again, then his brow furrowed and his jaw tightened. He had lost track of her in the scuffle, and when all was said and done, she was gone. Bystanders said that the men had carried her off with them when they retreated. God what would they do to her?
He wanted to find her and help her. He wanted to thank her.
She felt the ground shift under her. Had someone pulled away the road? She wanted to reach out for Joe to steady herself, but she couldn’t see anymore. She couldn’t hear anything except the man’s voice and the roaring in her head.
Why she kept going forward instead of turning back, she couldn’t say. She walked for quite a while before realizing that a mist had started swirling around her. The sun set some time ago, and she had been going by some eerie other worldly light. The change was so subtle she hadn’t even noticed.
Customers filtered in and soon the cafe was full, buzzing with the sounds of another busy day. Carrie listened to snippets of the early morning conversations going on around her as she sipped her steaming cup of much needed and very strong coffee.
“Remember that fellow that used to come through here a while ago? You know the one doing some trucking for the Cole outfit?”
“Oh yeah, what was his name? Jeff? Greg? No Gary. I think it was Gary.”
“Gary.”
“He was a colorful sort.”
“Sure was.”
Or
“Hey Joe, did you ever find out who stole yer mailbox?”
“Nah. Police think it was some kids that passed through, maybe from the University out for fun, making trouble and all.”
“Didn’t they steal Patty’s box too?”
“Among others so I heard.”
Or
“It’s too bad Benny had to shoot that old bull.”
“Mmmhmm. It happens though.”
Or
“The Henry farm sold last week. Heard it was some city folks from down south that bought it. Wanna try their hand at farming.” A chuckle.
“I don’t want to kill.”
“You’re not here to learn to kill. You’re here to learn to survive.”
The tears always came, and she could almost smell the crisp air around the Traveler’s Rest. She smelled the fire and heard it crackle in the hearth. She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent like she had so many nights when she lay next to him. She liked to rest her nose lightly on his neck and just breathe, in and out, just breathe him into her.
She didn’t need any more problems, and she didn’t need her heart to go any deeper into Dane. Keep it light. Keep it friends. Keep it safe. No more hurt.
“If you go after it, you won’t come back. If you do come back, you’ll come back dead.” Then he added “Or different. You’ll come back different.”
She pressed him for more “What makes the marshes so bad?”
He spoke in a flat tone “The Others. The Others live there.”
He figured that he would never see her again. She had to be dead, or locked away somewhere being used as a slave for those men’s depravity. That’s what he thought, yet here she was right now, right in front of him, smiling and well. In fact, she looked very well indeed.
He drank then because it was fun. He drank now because it kept him numb.
But she was a runner, and she had two sackfuls of fresh green pascha draped over her back. Her belt pouches contained various roots, powders, buds and dried leaves. She even had some vines from climbing pascha she found growing up a forgotten ancient wall that still stood, alone and unexplained, a remnant from a world no one remembered.
He knew he could tame that wild one, but Ahri didn’t want to have to tame any woman. He liked women with spirit, strong women with their own minds who could look after themselves. Ilhiana certainly fit all of those qualifications, but he saw something inside her that he didn’t like.
The blond woman on the other hand, had a different kind of strength. She came across as humble, vulnerable, and sometimes even afraid. She seemed so out of place, but she held herself bravely and stoic. Ahri admired that in her. She had a story to tell, a story he wanted to know.
She leaned against the rock and took in the view. The sea glistened below while calm waves rippled in to shore. Out in the harbor she saw a ship shimmering silver as it sailed it’s way to the port. She could see part of the town to her left. She wasn’t quite ready to make her way down.
Joe’s eyes opened, looking right into Amanda’s. Blue. His eyes were blue. His expression remained blank. She couldn’t even begin to think what he might be thinking. Did he remember anything that happened? He looked at her for what felt like ages then finally spoke.
“It must have been a helluva party.”
Amanda smiled “You could say that.”
So I’m going to do something a little different here. Instead of a short snippet, I’m gonna take a risk and do a longer bit. One of the snippets I posted before is in here though. It still needs some tweaking. It’s not perfect. It’s all still a work in progress, and maybe this passage will be changed or even eliminated, but I wanted to share something a little more this time. Sorry if it’s a bit long.
So here goes:
She woke to cold embers in the hearth and sunlight streaming through the one tiny window in the wall opposite the bed. She still held Joe. Her body still pressed against his, only instead of lying on his back, he now faced her, his nose almost touching hers. He had one arm draped over her back, and one of his legs cradled her legs.
Joe’s eyes were closed, and his breathing remained even. He appeared to be sleeping. Amanda considered getting up to restart the fire and go out to relieve herself, but she didn’t want to wake him just yet. She lay still and studied his face.
Last night’s quick assessment of his age appeared to be correct. He had smooth skin with no beard or mustache. His longish brown hair, still damp from his sweat, matted around his head. Long dark brown eyelashes graced his closed eyelids. She still didn’t know if his eyes were blue or green, or maybe they were light brown like Lauren’s. Lauren. She blinked away the chilling memory of Lauren’s cold stare.
Joe’s eyes opened, looking right into Amanda’s. Blue. His eyes were blue. His expression remained blank. She couldn’t even begin to think what he might be thinking. Did he remember anything that happened? He looked at her for what felt like ages then finally spoke.
“It must have been a helluva party.”
Amanda smiled, “You could say that.”
His expression turned soft and concerned. He moved his arm from around her and reached up to stroke her hair. “You’re quite lovely, but I wouldn’t want to…Did I…Did we…?”
She cut him off, “Don’t worry Tiger. You didn’t. We didn’t.”
He looked relieved and continued to stroke her hair. “What time is it anyway? I have practice today.”
“I have no idea what time it is.” Amanda glanced at the narrow sunbeam streaking across the floor and said, “Morning. Some time in the morning. Still early I think. ” Then she added, “Practice? Practice for what?”
His eyes narrowed, and he looked a little confused. “Band. We have practice at Ronnie’s house.”
“I don’t think you’ll be going to Ronnie’s house today.”
His confusion deepened and alarm set in. “What do you mean? Why not?”
“I’d love to take you to Ronnie’s house. I really would, if only I knew how to get there.”
“Well where are we, and I’ll tell you the way.” He said.
Amanda sighed into those blue eyes that were searching her, so genuine and now very concerned. “You, Joe, are very far from home, and there isn’t any way to get you to Ronnie’s house.”
“What!?” He raised up on his elbows and glanced around the room. “You are making no sense, and it’s freaking me out a little. Or a lot. It’s freaking me out a lot.” His eyes narrowed as he took in the room. “Where is this place?”
“I can tell you, but I can’t tell you.”
Joe now looked annoyed. “That is what I’m talking about. Quit not making sense and tell me what’s going on here. Are the guys trying to pull one over on me?”
“Oh how I wish it were that!” Amanda said. “If only it were a joke. No. It’s not a joke. We’re really here, and although I know where here is, at the same time I don’t know where here is at all.”
“You’re gonna have to start explaining this to me.” He looked her direct in the eyes again.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” She asked.
The question distracted him, and his eyes faded from hers while he searched his memory. Then he brought them back to her. “Dreams. I can’t remember any details, just weird images and voices. A round light. I think I was on a boat, but it’s so vague. There was water all around though. Someone in a cloak.”
Joe stopped, lowered himself back down, and thought for a minute then continued. “Singing.” He half smiled at that. “I wrote a song. It just kind of came to me in all that mist. Then I was trying to walk, but I couldn’t. Coldness everywhere, and I couldn’t stop shaking. Someone sat on me and held me down. You! Someone must have spiked my drink. Did you? It was you! What the hell!” He rose up on his elbows again and tried to roll from the bed. He fell back and groaned.
“Holy crap! Hell no I didn’t spike your drink!” She shot back at him. “I saved your ass is what I did. What do you remember before the dreams. What were you drinking? Where were you?”
Annoyed he said, “I was at the party.”
“OK. What party?”
Sarcasm, “The party. You were there right?”
“No.” Amanda said. “I wasn’t. I was not at your party.” She pressed him. “Where was this party?”
“Clark’s house. Well Clark’s parent’s house. They’re out of town for a few days so Clark thought he’d have a few friends over. I’m sure you were there. I remember you.”
“Okay. Good. That’s good.” Amanda said. “I wasn’t there. Now what were you drinking?”
“Beer”
“What kind of beer? From a glass or a can? Cold?” She continued to grill him.
“Beer. I don’t know what kind. A can. Why? Why the hell does it matter? What’s so important about my drink? Did somebody put something in it?”
“No. No no no. It’s not important.”
He cut her off, “Then why do you keep asking about my drink? You said I was pretty.”
“I’m asking about where you were and what you were doing.” She said. “What’s important is that you remember. What you were drinking, and whether it was in a glass or a can isn’t important at all. You just have to know. You have to remember as many details as possible. It’s important. It’s important that you remember even the smallest, most trivial things. And that wasn’t me. Was the beer cold?”
He rolled those pretty blue eyes, “Yes. Yes it was cold.”
“Good. Were you talking to anyone?”
“We were about to play.”
“Play?” She questioned.
“Um. Music. We were the band. I mean not really. It was more of a jam session.”
“Oh.” Amanda finally realized what he meant. “You were going to play!”
“Yeah.” He sounded a little exasperated. “Did we play? How did we sound?”
“I wasn’t there. Remember?” She sighed. “Not yet. You haven’t played yet, but you will. I mean if you did, or if you’re going to, you will.”
His face screwed up in confusion. “You are twisting my brain.” He moved his arm and fell back down onto the bed. “I don’t feel so good. Not good at all. Oh God I’m fucking dizzy.”
Suddenly he shot back up, threw off the blanket and took a frantic look at his abdomen. His eyes widened when he saw the bandage Amanda had put over the knife wound.
“Oh my God! You stole my kidney. You stole my fucking kidney!” His voice became sinister. “You’re a goddam organ stealer.”
“What?!” Amanda might have laughed, but this wasn’t funny. “Are you kidding me? I did not take your kidney! That is so ridiculous. I’m not an organ stealer.”
“I don’t believe you.” He fell back again, weak from the exertion. “I don’t believe you.” His voice trailed off.
“Please. You must believe me.” Amanda pleaded. “I’m not an organ stealer. I’m here to help you. And besides, aren’t organ harvesters typically not there when you wake up?”
“I suppose. That’s true.” His voice slurred. “Are you sure you didn’t drug me?”
“I didn’t, but The Other’s did.”
She met his gaze as she let a tiny sip of the sweet red wine slip past her lips and warm her palate.
He smiled, and she felt a tremble caress her spine.
How easy it would be to forget, how easy to fall into old patterns and old friendships. Her heart yearned for that old friendship again. But as she studied his back while he stood at the bar waiting for his ale, she remembered. That friendship was never real. That friend was never real.
At least they were in a restaurant, and she had a big plate of practically untouched food in front of her as well as a full cold beer. She wondered what Dane would think of her sudden crazy appetite and her need for copious amounts of booze. Every time they’ve been out, she ate slowly and stuck to her one drink. She thought to herself “Not tonight Dane. It won’t be just one drink tonight. You’re going to see a side of your little miss Amanda that you’ve never seen before. I hope you like her.” Then aloud “I hope you like her. Whenever tonight starts again.”
Then she understood. She drooped her head into her hands and closed her eyes. She squeezed them tight. Maybe the tears couldn’t get past closed eyelids. But they did.
“She’ll think she is dreaming.”
Amanda’s skin went cold and her throat tightened as she realized that she was awake. Dreaming? I’m not dreaming. I hear you. She kept the thought to herself thinking it best they not know she could hear them.
But her older wing, a wing that spanned the eons of time, finally reached its limit.
Anjelina always thought she was being watched. Today was no different. She felt the eyes on her as she walked out of the coffee shop. Didn’t she see that same dark sedan following her yesterday? What about that guy sitting at the tall table by the window? He held his to go cup with both hands, up in front of his face. She saw him peering over the coffee, studying her.
He grunted again. His hand moved towards the hilt of his sword. Oh here it comes she thought, but he didn’t draw. He let his hand rest lightly on the hilt.
Amanda cringed when she saw the blisters on his feet. Every step must have been excruciating, yet he never complained. He kept his sense of humor and that smile on his face. How could he stay so lighthearted and be in so much pain at the same time? He never once curled up into a ball and cried like she had.
Then she realized there was something terribly wrong with the girl. She had no eyes. The girl had no eyes. Amanda thought the girl’s eyes were closed, but they weren’t. Skin grew over the sockets, and the red glow shone through. She didn’t like this at all.
Amanda glanced at the clock again. 8:08. Where did the other minute go? She didn’t normally like to eat breakfast, but now a hunger rumbled in her belly. As she put her feet back to the floor she realized she was trembling. Her knees wobbled as she stood, and the hunger grew.
The exchange between Steve and Lizzie wasn’t lost on the other girls in the VIP section or on the girls in the regular sections. Hard core fans knew the routine. They knew that Steve always played that song with his head down and his eyes closed. He mouthed the words as he lost himself in his guitar. He never opened his eyes, never looked at anyone. He just played and kept his torment to himself.
That’s how the girls saw him. Tormented. Each girl, and maybe even a guy or two, imagined being the one to bring him peace, to love him and make him smile. So when they saw him open his eyes and look up into the VIP section at a girl they had never seen before, shock waves went through them.
Amanda reached for Thomas’s hand. For a terrible second she thought he might not take hers. Another face flashed through her mind. She almost fell back.
“Reach!” Thomas yelled to her.
He leaned down and grabbed her wrist. He pulled hard while she scrambled up the embankment. When she reached the top, Thomas turned to run. He still held her wrist. She almost fell but steadied herself and made her feet keep up with him as he dragged her along.
They ran. They ran the way she and Lauren should have run that day.
**
“You like what you see Noralisa?” She asked.
“Oh God yes!”
“You’ve been watching me.” It was a statement.
“Mmhmm. I have”
“Why?”
“I get paid to watch you.”
“Oh.” Annabelle sounded disappointed. “I thought you wanted to watch me.”
“Oh I do!” Noralisa said. “I do. When I watch the others, I don’t see them, but when I watch you I…”
“You see me?” Annabelle interrupted.
“Always, I see you.”
“I see you too.” Annabelle whispered.
Goosebumps formed on Noralisa’s arms. “You’re the only one Annabelle, the only one I want to watch.”
Annabelle still hadn’t turned to face Noralisa. “Keep watching.”
All the other girls wanted to do the same thing she knew, but they didn’t know Steve the way she did. They loved their idea of Steve. They loved who they dreamed Steve was. Lizzie loved the real Steve, the boy with the scraped knees and freckled nose. She loved the awkward kid learning to play guitar. She loved the embarrassed teen who was too afraid to ask her on a date. And she loved the famous rock musician who seemed to have forgotten her existence.
She could smell the ocean air and feel it on her skin. The sea birds flew above, few at first then more. Could she hear the roar of the ocean in her ears? Or was that just the silence of the mountains?
Amanda drew her blade as she jumped onto the raft. She started cutting the leather strap that held the man’s right wrist to the cross.
He turned his head to her, smiled, and said “Hi. I’m Joe.”
She paused for half a second as their eyes met. The light from the orb illuminated his face. Young. Handsome. Maybe more cute than handsome. His eyes were lidded, and she couldn’t tell their color. For some reason she wanted to know the color of his eyes.
“I’m Amanda.” She responded.
“Amanda. Pleased to meet you Amanda.” Then he said, “Do I look pretty? She said I looked pretty.”
His first wrist was free. “You look beautiful Joe.”
Goosebumps formed on her arms, and the skin on her back crawled when she heard the voices, distant, muffled, the voices in the void.
“This is the wrong moment.”
“But the place is right.”
“We have to bring her back. It hasn’t happened yet.”
“Can’t we leave her, wait for the moment, and see what happens in the mean time?”
“No. It’s too risky. What if she leaves and doesn’t find her way back? She might not be here at the right time. She might not come back to this place at all. She could die. What if she dies?”
“Then she dies. He can find us another one.”
They kissed once when they were kids. She remembered thinking Steve looked silly all pink faced and flushed. It was just a peck, a quick touch of his trembling mouth to hers. Still, Lizzie’s body tingled every time she remembered it.
That hair. Those eyes. That mouth. Why had they never kissed? Better not have any more booze tonight, or they might. They’d be kissing before long if she let too much more of that sickly sweet wine roll down her throat. She pushed the glass aside. No need to complicate a perfectly good friendship.
The look had been long enough for her to see a hint of fire in his eyes. He wasn’t beaten. Yet.
“That lovely lady – the one you thought was me, the one that said you were pretty – was going to drink your warm, red blood. She was going to carve those pretty blues right out of your face. And then she was going to take your scalp along with all that wondrous long hair of yours and put it on a stick so she could stroke those silky brown locks whenever she liked.”
Joe grimaced. “You really are crazy.”
“Maybe. But if you want to stay alive in this stupid world you’re going to want to stick with me for awhile.”
