Sunday, July 3, 2016

I stand in Wellington


I stand in Wellington where the air is laced with sea mist and the wind whips my hair as the stingrays lash their fins. With friends, falling feels a lot like flying. Gliding towards the water to greet the people and other strange creatures below. The water tumbles around me like a gelatinous quilt. Drops of liquid glass take flight high above my head which has already begun slipping down under the surface. The rays of the sun glare brightly in the ocean and dance around the waves. Fish the size of my pinky finger glide in between my toes and disappear in a forest of seaweed that stretches up from the seabed. I drop my weight and allow myself to fall closer towards calm and further from fear. I bob in the water for a few seconds more before air starts to be sucked from my lungs; I then push myself up and take a large gasp. The oxygen glides into lungs filling them up and replacing the breaths I lost down below. Waves lap at my ears diminishing every sound around me. I cough and splutter as sea water rockets out my nose and mouth. The taste of sharp seawater radiates throughout my entire body shaking me into a fit.
Thick crimson liquid dribbles down my face temporarily blinding me. As people leap into the water in a rescue attempt, I can feel the hot liquid wash away from my body and into the water. I feel thick arms wrap swiftly around my torso and drag me through the water. Hard plastic scrapes against my back and my head is elevated slightly. The sun blares down into my eyes piercing the back of my eyes making my head ache. A face hovers over mine before darkness.


Sunday, October 18, 2015

In my head

In it there is a camera
and a project
for doing away with pain

And there is
worry,
which shall be first.

And there is
an entirely new photo,
an entirely new painting,
an entirely new feeling.

There is a lens
that captures the impossible.

There are emotions that fill you to the brim.

There is an image.

And it just cannot be erased.

I believe
that only what cannot be erased
is a memory.

There is much promise
in the circumstance
that everyone has memories.

Hallway Horrors

The gold tinted door creaked open with the sound of a thousand tiny screams. My footsteps echoed through the empty hallway. The floor light shine up into my eyes, blinding me momentarily. The lights only partially illuminate the scarlet red hallway, making walking a difficult task. I shuffle my feet along making as much noise as humanly possible. Fear crept up behind me, breathing on my neck as I shuffled down the hallway. At the end of the lengthy hallway, a figure appeared. Slowly the dark figure approaches me. Fear buckles my knees and I fall to the floor into the fetal position. A small bony hand rested itself on my shoulder and began stroking me. The rhythmic patting was soothing considering the fear that was me in a tight grasp. My heart rate slows and I am once again able to breath without falling into a wall of panic. As I attempt to rise to my feet shock hits me as I see that I am the only person that resides in the gloomy hallway. I take small cautious steps towards the end of the hallway. As I reach a corner, I back up against the wall and peek around in an effort to assure that the bony handed creature has not yet raced ahead to scare me. In the dim light the walls appear to breath in every time I take a nervous step.

Tortured Souls Part One

 I flinched as her icy fingers ran down my cheek and obliterated the fast rolling tears. Her lips turning purple, as oxygen was sucked from her collapsed lungs. Her eyes, once as blue as Tenerife Sea, now turning the colour of clouds on dark day. Her life slowly being snatched from her grasp as if she was being cruelly tortured for wrong doings.

3 months prior

  Her eyes connected with mine and I felt a hollowness run through my veins. I finally understood why people call it eye contact. I felt as if she was talking to me through the pupils in her ravishing eyes. Her message did not seem to be friendly, but there was something about it I couldn't let go. I snapped out of it when I vaguely heard my name being bellowed from the front of the room. As I turned Ms Baldwin's face greeted me, her pulsing veins far to close for comfort. I could here her wretched soulless heart beating as she moved closer towards me. She spit her words at me like venom from a snakes tongue.
"Mr Peterson if your thoughts are wandering then I thinks it's best you follow them, right out of this classroom and to see Mrs Wright"
 Reluctantly, I heaved by bag over my aching shoulder and swung out the door. I liked the school halls better anyway. The airy silence bought a thousand thoughts, the twisted ideas weaving in and out of my mind scape. None of the distractions that come when sitting in a crowded room listening to some old hag babble on about Al-Ja-Bra. I don't care for learning. Never have, never will. I do though. I looked around swiftly. I adore learning. No one else was around, but the thought was not my own. My thought process was slammed to a halt when a door creaked open and Mrs Wright stepped out.

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Tortured Souls Part One

Tortured Souls

 I flinched as her icy fingers ran down my cheek and obliterated the fast rolling tears. Her lips turning purple, as oxygen was sucked from her collapsed lungs. Her eyes, once as blue as Tenerife Sea, now turning the colour of clouds on dark day. Her life slowly being snatched from her grasp as if she was being cruelly tortured for wrong doings.

3 months prior

  Her eyes connected with mine and I felt a hollowness run through my veins. I finally understood why people call it eye contact. I felt as if she was talking to me through the pupils in her ravishing eyes. Her message did not seem to be friendly, but there was something about it I couldn't let go. I snapped out of it when I vaguely heard my name being bellowed from the front of the room. As I turned Ms Baldwin's face greeted me, her pulsing veins far to close for comfort. I could here her wretched soulless heart beating as she moved closer towards me. She spit her words at me like venom from a snakes tongue.
"Mr Peterson if your thoughts are wandering then I thinks it's best you follow them, right out of this classroom and to see Mrs Wright"
 Reluctantly, I heaved by bag over my aching shoulder and swung out the door. I liked the school halls better anyway. The airy silence bought a thousand thoughts, the twisted ideas weaving in and out of my mind scape. None of the distractions that come when sitting in a crowded room listening to some old hag babble on about Al-Ja-Bra. I don't care for learning. Never have, never will. I do though. I looked around swiftly. I adore learning. No one else was around, but the thought was not my own. My thought process was slammed to a halt when a door creaked open and Mrs Wright stepped out.
"Mr Peterson, what illegal activities have you been dabbling in today."
I sighed heavily and replied. "Why so formal mother" I scoffed "Or should I say Step Monster"
 Mrs Wright/Step Monster/Jacqui, swiftly pulled her thick mousy brown hair into a tight ponytail. She thought it made her look more sophisticated, but really she just looked like a twat. Her makeup was caked on, her ponytail drooped and her dress pants bunched in weird places. I knew all of this because a week ago she had asked me about it.
("Does this look okay?")
("You look like a twat")
This also happened to be the same day my actual mother disappeared. No sooner then Mum had disappeared I discovered my father and Jacqui had eloped. Also Mum and Dad had been divorced for a long time and just "forgot to mention it". So February 19 is now, as I like to call it, Day of all the shitty things.
 Jacqui shoved the door to her office open and guided me inside with a disappointed look smothered on her face.

Monday, April 27, 2015

Runaway Part One

  Her blonde hair fluttered around in the wind. Her window sat open, propped up against a tall stick. The annoying sound of the television echoed up the hallway and into her room. She lifted her foot out of the covers and gently placed it on the floor. Slowly and silently, she tiptoed across the plush carpet. The wind howled outside carrying her dying dreams with them. She swung herself through the window frame and descended out. Quicker than a fox, she sprinted around the corner of her house and retrieved the duffel bag she had shoved in a bush earlier. Seeking transport and shelter she had stolen several hundred dollars while her parents dozed on the couch. Whilst unzipping the bag she scampered across the road and up the street. Soon enough she arrived at the train station, awaiting the arrival of her escape vehicle. The wind howled in the darkness of the early morning. Probably not the best night to get out of here. She raised her hood over her head, sat on the concrete and hugged her knees. She rocked back and forth in an attempt to warm her freezing body. She heard trees snap under the harsh conditions. Eventually she decided under the shelter would be safer. She rose to her feet wit pins and needles rushing up her legs.
"HEY GEORGIA"
She froze, captivated with fear. In the distance, the sound of the approaching train brought little comfort. She had been found and her freedom snatched out from underneath her. As the train came to a stop she felt a small hand on her shoulder.
"Georgia" A soft voice whispered "What are you doing out here this late"
 Although she knew she would now have to return home she felt warm inside. She rotated her head slowly. Before her stood a girl with sky blue eyes and mouse brown hair. Brenna.
"I'm just going for a walk" Georgia muttered.
Brenna scanned her up and down then glanced at her watch.
"With a duffel bag packed with clothes at 2:49 in the morning"
Georgia smiled innocently and shrugged her shoulders. Brenna looked at her with doubt splashed on her face. Eventually Georgia gave in and explained the predicament. An awkward silence coated the icy air.
"Take me with you" Brenna begged "It will be fun"
 Georgia was relentless at first then welcomed the idea. So the two girls leapt on the train, seeking an adventure.

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Reality or not

 Twigs from the tree that stands outside, tap on my window. They scrap down as if someone is clawing their way inside. I haul the covers back onto my bed and bundle them around me. My stomach feels hollow and empty. As if something is eating me from the inside out. Guilt. I sink myself further and further into the blankets. Hoping that if the world is hidden the guilt will slowly slip away. How do I fill this pit in my stomach.
I swing my legs out of the covers and tiptoe towards the door. I slip downstairs in the dark and slide into the kitchen. I pull the fridge door open and gather an assortment of food that will hopefully fill me up. I balance the food in my arms and trudge towards the lounge. The television switches on automatically. Thank god for technology. Dreadful blood curdling screams greet me. My brother yet again left the T.V on one of his ungodly horror movies. He knows I don't sleep and he insisted on leaving them on. Probably his way of saying "Mornin' Sis". I dive for the remote and put on my favorite movie. The Hallway that breathes. It's a movie about a house that's alive and these teenagers go in and the hallway changes every time they move. I like horror movies. Just not my brothers horror movies. His are too unrealistic. When my favourite scene is playing (a scene where one of the girls goes missing and the hallway gets longer) I hear shrieking from upstairs. I shovel a handful of chips in my mouth and lumber upstairs. The screams come from the cupboard. My legs wobbled and when I opened the cupboard door I was no longer in my house. I stood in a wide open field with flowers blossoming everywhere. I fall into the flowers and bundle them in my arms. Bees buzz around my head. I close my eyes and I hear violins and pianos beginning to play. I open my eyes with a jerk. The air around me is thin. My mother and father hover over me. Me dark hair is brush and put in a halo braid. I try to move to no eval. Around me is a giant cushion almost like a bed. My father reaches over me. But he is not pulling me out. He grabs a wooden plank and drops it over me.
"We're gonna miss ya sis" Says a voice outside the box.
The scent from the flowers grasped in my hand waft up my nose. I throw them aside and pound on the sides of the box. I hear my mother call from outside.
" Shut up and stop screaming"
Her arms grasp around me. I open my eyes and I am in the lounge again. Real or not.