T-kun Unusual Wordsmith III

“You can’t just stay in your room all day, Katy?” A kind woman said, outside the door way of the young teen’s room. Soon: adding to her daughter, with but a fact of truth. “Let alone a week, mi hijo.”

 

“Don’t feel like it.”

 

“What about all that talk about finding your friends? Parkland’s home is not far from here, I bet she would be happy to see you, after so long.”

 

“I’m too tried.”

 

“Too tried to see a friend?”

 

“I wouldn’t really call her a friend, mom?”

 

Her mother just rolled her eyes, giving a sigh, before walking fully into the room. Standing near the foot of the bed of her child, assertively grabbed the blankets and pulled them away. Rolling them up and leaving the room.

 

“Mom, no, it’s cold!” Kate yelled, jumping out her bed, dashing after her mother, to get back the blankets in hasty grabs, trying to make look like her body was freezing, even though the weather was midsummer at most.

 

“Sorry, I need to get laundry done, and I am not waiting any longer to wash these. But, hey, now you’re up, go outside.” Her mother said, in such an acute way, before side turning to face her child, soon adding. “But first, change out those as well, you look like a mole person, and I didn’t waste the better half of my life, raising no science fiction titanic.”

 

“Mom . . .”

 

“Change and better be quick by on the count of cinco!”

 

“Mom, really, not today . . .”

 

“Uno . . . !” She started out with, before pointed back to where Kate’s room was, before again counting. “Dos . . . ! Mejor irnos, mi hijo, o enfrentar la ira de mamá!”

 

“Oh, fine!” Kate stated, with distrust, before marching back to her room, changing quickly, grabbing some weekend chore money, and with little care, sliding down the ramp, not in the mood to take the stairs, upon meeting eyes with her father.

 

“Stairs next time, kiddo, safety first.” He stated; fixing the sport cap on her head that was almost coming off, from the sudden rush down the ramp. Sparing a moment to kiss her forehead, speaking quietly when slowly pulling away, with a knowing smile to his daughter, which she gave back even knowing what he was going to say. “Don’t mind your mother, you know how she is. And don’t think what happen before did not bother her, I already gave my say to the lady and her son. Your mother, she’s just wants you to be like you’re normally are . . .”

 

“Which: means no lazing around the house, like it’s the end of the world. Yes, daddy, I understand.”

 

“So glad you’re catching on quickly. Now get going. Be home before dinner, okay?”

 

“Yeah, dad, see you at the dinner table!”

 

To Be Continued . . .

 

 

 

—-Side Note—-

Translations:

 mi hijo — My child

cinco — Five

Uno — One

 Dos . . . ! Mejor irnos, mi hijo, o enfrentar la ira de mamá! — Two . . . ! Better get moving, my child, or face the wrath of mama!

In finder times, young Kat walked slummy across the street lanes, hands deep in her pockets, lopping her head to music that only to heard from inside, for her to hear. Eyes looking around the world before, as she kept moving, taking in of any differences of the town there after her and family moved away years back, only for some reason coming back.

 

With given reasons, that only felt half spoken than what should have been given. Yet it was over and done with, less wanting to speak anymore of her family choices, the better.

 

Stopping to a full halt, near a four way street, waiting for cars to drive on before daring to take another step, coming to see a familiar store, just within rock stone kicking distance.

 

Mindful with each step taken, crossing in time before any cars could come zooming by. Kat made it in time, patting her pockets of a reminder that she had what she needed and walked into an old 40’s to mid-50’s style diner.

 

Sliding into a counter spinning chair, a waitress coming up to her not long later, quickly asking for something sweet and such, having soon see the young lady to go off and place the order on the stringed clippers.

 

The light music filled in the spaces of quietness, as few other people enjoyed their lunches.

 

Yet, the lone feeling of a small pair eyes were not hard to miss, turning her head just a bit, seeing a boy glance her way, sitting by her guess, his mother chatting with another lady.

 

Kat soon took notice that boy was looking farther down.

 

In her mind, cursed a bit, picking, quite the hell of all days to wear short, when forgetting something. Without, much thought, turned away bit, having her back to the child, eyes looking anywhere to forget the boy’s eyes.

 

Hearing the small verbs from the boy’s mother, entailing it wasn’t nice to stare at people. Even she too shudder some words of the sight.

 

When the waitress came by again, to another customer, Kat spoke quickly.

 

“Could I make my order to go?”

 

The waitress glanced her way, smiling and nodding, answering when she was done with another.

 

But sadly, the order didn’t come quick enough when the two ladies and boy walked by. Their meal paid and off they were leaving, but lasting long enough for one of the ladies to spare a few words, much without knowing.

 

“The poor dear . . .”

 

Kat again, only turning away, in time for order to finally come. Going quickly through, her pockets, in search of some cash, to pay her meal, and not, given not much of an udder word to the other, person, who handed it to her. Side-stepping, those, blocking the way, rushing out, and with just the faint thuds: as she ran far from the place.

 

If Kat could, change things how they were in the past. She could, but can’t, and only keep going forward, even with a part of her forever lost in the warping world of the past.

 

When: coming to place to rest from running, setting the bag on her lap, opening it for the items inside. Finding the plastic fork taped on top of the white form cover, opening it soon and eating. Wanting nothing, more than, just peace.

 

Weakly glaring at her legs as she did so, eyeing of how one of flesh and the other matching that of toy doll could be the same, but yet be eerily different.

 

Tragedy comes in many forms. This was hers to deal with.

 

The End . . .?

“If there is one thing in this crazy world, it’s you, Slope!” A young girl exclaimed, ending the last note in her line with a pop.

 

“You’re the one who wanted to do this!” The other named Slope said back, trying not to fall off from the tree branch.

 

“Well you’re a dummy for thinking you were part monkey.”

 

“I never said that! You did, and saying you could beat me, half way up saying the tree was too high and thinking you were going to fall. You’re such a big baby, Kat!”

 

“No you’re the baby! For, I am older than you! Ha!”

 

“Oh, yeah, by a minute and seven seconds on that clock you seem to carry wherever you go!”

 

“Thank you for proving my point.” Kat responded back, crossing her arms, but hurrying to put them back in place from keeping her from falling, soon adding in. “Forever this idea was; I hope we can get down soon. Help, someone, help!”

 

“Help, anyone! Please!”

 

“Is that you, Park? Kathren is also up there?”

 

“Alan, I am so glad you to see you, can you get some help.” Park said to her friend, that was like a brother to her.

 

“Or a latter, which ever gets up down from here!” Kat shouted, also pointlessly adding. “And I told you to call me Kat, you dolt!”

 

“You want my help or not, Kathren?” Alan teased at her, slowly walking away from the tree, in a matter that made it look like he wasn’t coming back.

 

“No, please, sorry, please. Help would be great!”

 

“Okay! I will be back as fast as I can.”

 

“Don’t get lost!” Park shouted, worrying now more her brother’s sake, than her and Kat.

 

Whom; just glared at her for saying that, not happy at all, of the thought of being stuck in the tree longer than needed.

 

“You have no clue how much that’s upsets me.” Kat stated to Park, who just rolled eyes.

 

“Not much as I think Alan has a liking to you.” Park smirked.

 

Without a second thought, Kat was about to smack Park for saying that, but missed, starting to fall. A short shriek left her mouth, before the sudden motion of falling stop, looking to see Park grabbed out for her.

 

“You, going to hang around all day, or help me, help you get back up here?”

 

Not wasting a moment got pulled back up. Now both sharing the same brank, glad to know it was able to hold them both.

 

Kat giving a groan of sigh, not crossing her arms this time, living in the silence for a bit, until hearing Park starting to laugh.

 

“Being out in the sun for too long?”

 

“Nope, just remembering how this reminds of something when we’re in Pre-K is all?”

 

“What? How is that possible?” Kat asked, looking at Park as she grown two heads.

 

“You don’t remember?” Park pouted a bit.

 

“I know you an awesome set of markets.”

 

“Which in some way, somehow ended up coloring the whole classroom, having the both of us being set in the corner.”

 

Kat just shrugged, turning away, whistling, which she only when in denial. But the habit of a smirk wasn’t hard to miss.

 

“That was pretty good.”

 

“But it was a waste of markets.”

 

They ended up laughing a bit, stopping when seeing Alan rushing back, with some older people. The girls just went wide eyed, because they got down, they were in so much trouble. But, those two wouldn’t have it, any other way.

 

Even it had been awhile from the last time, they had ever played together.

 

Yet, now, some time had passed from then, and still it couldn’t be help, Kat smiles in the back seat of the car, parents up front, mother driving. Father looking through the ant tunnels of a map he was looking at, stating for maybe the fifth time, they were lost.

 

“We’re not lost; the map is upside down, dear.” The mother said, needing to also say. “You have glasses for a reason.”

 

“Right, right . . . oh, next left two stops from now.” He said, once finding his glasses, onto of his head, fixing them and the map to read.

 

The mother nodded, looking through the rearview mirror to see her daughter looked through out the window.

 

“You seem happy to be home, Katy?”

 

“Mom . . .” Kat signed out, disliking that name very a fiery passion, but still finish to say. “Yeah, hope nothing’s change, but knowing that Slope, who knows?” Ending; with a light laugh of fonder times, even when some moments weren’t as great as others.

 

The End.

In weather of displeasures: where the sky in nothing always crying, it can damper others thoughts of reality. Borden from leaving one spot; be it a bed, chair, or the very floor of a house, to lack the adventure of doing something exciting of any kind. Leaving, maybe the small chance of maybe counting each drop that hits the window, to mostly pass the time.

 

“Park, I’m bored.”

 

“I would never guess, grab a book and read something.”

 

“I might end up like you, if I do.”

 

A gentle toss a throw pillow came way to younger one’s head, but he just rubbed his head, grabbed it and sat on it. Seeing, it even out the numbness from before on sitting on a wooden chair for so long.

 

“Zam, please knock it off.” Parkland added in, when hearing the soft sounds of skin thudding against glass.

 

“Parkland, who was that waved at the bus when we were leaving?”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. All I recall is how you guys left in a race, when you two knew better.” Parkland stated back, turning to her next page, glancing upward when hearing movement upstairs, soon going back to reading. Along, adding the following words to Zam, custodies to stop him from hitting his head. “Alan’s up, go see if, he’s up to go play something, together, save whatever brain cells you have left.”

 

“Finally, I thought he never wake up!”

 

The rushing footsteps came and went, rounding through and up the house, before just echoing above where Parkland was reading. Though, she showed no care and went on reading.

 

But the reading came to a stop, as a sudden gusted outside knocked out the power. Girlish screams were heard up stairs.

 

“Really, now of all days, decides to go out, now?” Parkland questioned, slamming her book shut, going to fine a flashlight and go find the boys.

 

To Be Continued . . . ?

Hated is one of the most powerful emotions, that will always leave many blinded, but in sake for savor, it will guide them, pull them on thick chains down into a abyss that few are ever able to get out of, some give up and let it swallow them, and much of them embrace it for it to become one with them.

A price it is, a heavy price, that payment is that normally that of what makes one human.

But sadly, human is weak, becoming forever god-like is a finer way of living.

The only thing that holds one back from achieving that gloriousness, is a mistake . . . that should have never innate from the start.

“Doctor?”

A voice called out, small and unsure of the unknowing lack of wise; it was to bother the one titled the doctor.

Back stiffen with tied sentiments; eyes locked on something beyond the glass window had to hold. Face, cold stoned, with harden eyes, not once turning to face the other.

“What is it?”

The words left, heated and gutful to mane earth into rubble.

“The girl, sources have said she’s elsewhere now, last seen at the library. One source had an altercation with kid that knows the girl, but it was taken care off?”

“Breathing or not?”

“Another is sent to keep an eye on them.”

“Good.”

“Dr. Mine, any chance of a change of tactics? Why all this waiting that a simple hitman can do?”

Dr. Mine slowly turned; facing the lackey, eyes blank just as his face.

“Questioning?”

The lackey; flinch from the tone, before stuttering to cover up his tracks, trying to get back on his boss’s good side, in hopes to have no repeats of what happen to the last man who questioned Dr. Mine.

That man’s blood forever stained on the walls, for all to see of what could of others, if they lack the brain cells to listen and do as told.

“Anything else to report, Johns, or is that it?”

The other shook his head, leaving the doctor alone once more.

The doctor spared a moment to sit down in his chair, spinning it to face the window once more. His back leaned into the leather of the chair, elbows resting on the armrests, hands folded under his chin in thought, eyes looking as a stormed was slowly rolling in.

With a strike of lighting, a smile formed on the man’s face.

“In due time . . .”

The End

Once more, a clap of thunder roared to life, in the endless dark night. The flicker of the candles, rose and fell, as the flames ate away on the pickers. Shadows shuddered along with the flames, flashes of lighting, and bright glare of the flashlight; that wandered crazily that would make dance clubs flitch in pain.

 

 

An leaving sigh came from one of the shadows, reaching and grabbing for the said flashlight.

 

 

“Zam, stop, please, you’re hurting my eye sight over here.”

 

 

The one named Zam, glared at the other who took his flashlight, and quickly tried to get it back.

 

 

But another stop them both. Taking the moment to tighten up the blankets around them, that kept them both warm. Really wishing, for some adults to keep the children intact. Seeing, as that Parkland was having with the two.

 

 

“Knock it off, or so help . . .” Parkland started with, but grunted a hissy sigh, sitting back down, arms crossed.

 

 

“But, Park, what about if he comes?” Zam asked, concocting himself deeper into his blanket for signs he was saft.

 

 

Alan leaned near Zam, trying in a way of calming him, even if the whining that felt it going on for hours, was getting to Alan. But put on a strong face.

 

 

“How about a story?” Alan asked, knowing that’s all they need, a distraction.

 

 

Park rubbed her forehead in thought, before looking from the ceiling to Alan, soon asking. “Anything in mind?”

 

 

“How about a story you told, when you know, they left, the fun ones?”

 

 

The eldest looked at Alan with sadness of his choice of words, taking in how the light bitterness was there in his words, but before Park could reply to him. Zam gave a shout.

 

 

“That What Lives in Land Below Us!” Zam shouted, in a tone that was off, cut in the middle of joy and fear.

 

 

Park soon eyed her brother, away from Alan; noting to have a talk with him later.

 

 

“You sure? Last time I told that story, you never left mom and dad along for a month. Also you called the police when you saw, not one, but a seven sightings of it. Next call, won’t be a warning, Zam?”

 

 

Alan tried to keep from giggling, recalling from the last sleepover the two boys had, and by morning the cops were his family’s home door.

 

 

“I was young than. Times are different.” Zam bluntly stated, mocking the form his sister was doing in front of him. Arms cross, chin tilled a bit up, and chest slightly popped forward a bit. In show, he meant every word.

 

 

Park rose an eyebrow to him. Not trusting his words one second, but shrugged.

 

 

“Fine. But not a word to adults. Got it?”

 

 

Zam made a zipping motion on his lips, Alan flashed a crossed finger hand to her, to which Park wasn’t that surprise about. And with started the tale.

 

 

In pasted fables, adults found countless ways, to keep their children in line. For no adult could stand the very thought of one’s child going against their wishes. Quick as a breath, anew life of lies came to be. But the remain fact to this day, was it all really a lie, or the truth so real . . . no one care the conflicts that followed.

 

 

It lived below. Below the land we all upon. Eyeing all from a distance. Until the time called for it.

 

 

Taking it each step one would take, measuring it of the inner feast it could what lived below.

 

 

From the land below, where it hides is unknown, for it can see it all, and be seen.

 

 

A few that were once a prey, say, its size large but slim, hollow eyes with pin glows of cold iron, a smile of sharp teeth that stretch farther than that of a small dog, a boxer maybe, it’s back arches within it’s realm of hiding, long spider leg-like fingers flex in hunger, breathing, and laughter. A quiet laughter of a hummingbird’s wings. A body of wires or fine short hairs, warped around the being that of fog. With a long, flat, transparent, fork-shape tongue would poke through, that of lizard, sniffing around it. As again, that smile would go longer in appeasement, that it found it was looking for.

 

 

And luckily, easy enough to swallow.

 

 

Adults know so little of the danger that is under them. Go with ideas that children go missing that they bad, and ran from the voice of elders. Never to return.

 

 

Any adult would say it, but one, did not believe it. For his child did everything right. Why was his one and only child gone from his life? His child showed promise, going places, leaving this small town behind, and being something. Why? Why was this child gone forever?

 

 

The father got an answer. An answer that he believed that is.

 

 

Even if of the trick of the light, as he took his normal route home, from the graveyard. Once again visiting the empty grave of his child. With nothing but a cold stone remember of bleak future paths that would never come.

 

 

His body shook with hopes to still his tears from falling. There was not to be any weakness tonight. He planned to go, have a small dinner, than go to rest. As drinking was not strong enough to block out the pain, not even numbing it, but worming it. Stalling something, he nor his child would find wise.

 

 

Than a sound came.

 

 

Light and abuzz to the ears. To that of a fly or a bee.

 

 

Decay drowned his sence of smell, moss and copper coated it, that even more so as it burned slowly from a fire that could be seen from where the man stood.

 

 

Wishing not to stay any longer, in that area of town, dashed off.

 

 

The night clouded and clam, with the glows of the street lamps to see, fleeting feet ran harshly against concrete. His pants short and quick.

 

 

But the buzz nor smell died away.

 

 

He ran until coming close to home, making so far, patting himself to find his keys. He glanced around his shoulders for anything that had followed him, but the moment the key was found and within the lock.

 

 

All went still.

 

 

Silence.

 

 

Buzz and smell gone.

 

 

Only his breathless pants filled the night air.

 

 

He dared himself to turn again, eyes coming a lone figure under a lamp-post, holding on tightly a stuff toy of some kind. The child’s faint cries were heard. In sudden fear that whatever was after him before, comes back, it was best to get the child away from the danger.

 

 

Looking around once more, dashed to the child. Asking if the child was alright. The child shook her head, saying in soft whines she was bad and thrown out, in hopes it would tune her misbehavior in turning a new page with her parents, but alas that was three nights ago and far too late for her, she told him, never looking up.

 

 

He asked how was that for her parents to do such a thing, for she was this stricken with fear, if anything was too late, was their love and understanding. For again, she was nothing but a child.

 

 

With a hand stretch out had to child, tells her, tonight was no night for a child to be out late.

 

 

She replies back, finally looking up, eyes gone and stained in blood, a frown forever etched on her face. As she than udder the words, just as the man’s son, pointing behind him.

 

 

He turns, to see another figure. That what lives in land below, holding a hollowed out shell of the man’s son. The grin widen even more.

 

 

Buzz and decay filled the air once more. With the buzz growing louder, as the small whispers of the girl echoed back in understanding.

 

 

Pain stuck the man’s side, turning to see his kneecaps slashed by an unknown weapon, he never saw the girl hold before. As she dropped the rotted stuff toy to the ground, nails long just the other’s long spider leg’s fingers. Her face stone, cold, lacking any kind of life, as her body fell backwards.

 

 

Leaving the buzzing to deafening the man’s hearing. Until all he saw was darkness and fleeting thoughts of what became of his child. As sharp teeth sake into his flesh.

 

 

The man barely made a sound, for that, by the first bite, he was gone.

 

 

” . . . That What Lives in Land Below, took another life, far different, but it didn’t differ the thought, that maybe. Another night such as that, a mighty feast could be given. If it had the right uses such of that lucky night . . . “

 

 

A strike of thunder blasted louder than ever before, having all the kids screamed, earth shattering sound and the gust of wind picked up, snapping a window by them to open, blowing out the candles.

 

 

Park rushed up to close the window, locking it tightly, cursing to herself. But a smile on her face when seeing her parents car pulling up the driveway.

 

 

Yet, with another bolt of lighten, within the watercoated glass, something was off, but she shook it off, passing it off as if the story was just getting to her.

 

 

Going back to the others and relighting the candles, telling the boys who was back.

The End.

Issue 3.1

Wandering blindly she did, using the smooth wallpaper walls to guide her through the house, coming to the kitchen finally. Gliding with care, with her fingers in search, with nothing but the darkness around, for the handles of draws, choosing not to be brash, blinded with hast in finding the knife box in a rush; nor wanting to lose a finger. Luckily missing it, and finding the spare chargers and a flashlight.

 

Giving a quick shake for that it wasn’t empty, with a faint rattle like a snake, turn it on. Parkland finally having some kind of light to see, though the creepy shadows that came when having just one light, was something anyone would love not to deal with.

 

But she shook it off, aiming the light on her path for the stairs. Quietly calling for the boys that she was coming, and hopefully they stayed where they were.

 

When having nothing of any reply back, besides a crash of a lamp or a desk as an answer, Parkland quick step herself up the stairs, not noticing the loud creaks that came from the stairs has she headed upward.

 

Zoning the light here and there, with the patters of rain, gusts of winds, and the creaks of the wooden floor was her only noise within the household. Seeing the bony, finger-like branches of the trees clattering with the windows, a quick lightning strike consumed the area in superb light.

 

Or the small screams from a nearing room, as Park reached closer to it. Not thinking for a moment, open it, shining the light in, calling for the boys.

 

The only response back from an army of pillows; varies of toys; and a shoe.

 

“You’ll never take us alive, Man in Red!” A voice shouted right when the shoe was casted way at the door, missing much, and soaring over the person at the door.

 

“I doubt the Man in Red is the least of your worries.” Park grumbled when having the flashlight aimed where the voice came from, seeing Alan using his bed as a fort, who gave a sheepish smile back and a wave of surrender, as was soon to see that Zam was nowhere in sight. Which Park quickly asked Alan if Zam was under the bed with him?

 

Alan pointed to the closet, which where Park rushed to. Upon; finding Zam, curled up with his knees up to his face, protecting him, arms wrapped around to hold his legs close, with his body shaking when another strike of lightening came.

 

“Zam . . .”

 

Park was cut when another strike came, but it was enough to tell Zam his sister was there for him, as he quickly latches onto her, almost knocking her down, but she was able to keep standing. Using her free hand to calm him, usher Alan over to them, telling him to hold Zam’s hand, as she hold his, as they left the room, going back down stairs.

 

Stopping when the strikes came, less of a chance of falling for whenever Zam froze from the sound. Finally making down stairs, back to the living room, placing both boys on the couch, grabbing the throw blanket that rested on the back of the couch onto them, sparing a moment that she would be back in moment, not giving neither of one them to whine about it, as she left the room.

 

Nearing the opening way to the hall, glancing back to the boys, shining more on Alan, who somewhat looked her way, wrapping an arm around Zam, who was still shaking.

 

“Watch him, Alan; I’m going to get some candles, okay?”

 

“Don’t take too long.” Alan called back; his tighten when Zam gave another whine from the loud electric hiss outside in the punitive gale.

 

“I’ll try not to.”

 

To Be Continued . . . ?

In weather of displeasures: where the sky in nothing always crying, it can damper others thoughts of reality. Borden from leaving one spot; be it a bed, chair, or the very floor of a house, to lack the adventure of doing something exciting of any kind. Leaving, maybe the small chance of maybe counting each drop that hits the window, to mostly pass the time. Read the rest of this entry →

In weather of displeasures: where the sky in nothing always crying, it can damper others thoughts of reality. Borden from leaving one spot; be it a bed, chair, or the very floor of a house, to lack the adventure of doing something exciting of any kind. Leaving, maybe the small chance of maybe counting each drop that hits the window, to mostly pass the time.

 

“Park, I’m bored.”

 

“I would never guess, grab a book and read something.”

 

“I might end up like you, if I do.”

 

A gentle toss a throw pillow came way to younger one’s head, but he just rubbed his head, grabbed it and sat on it. Seeing, it even out the numbness from before on sitting on a wooden chair for so long.

 

“Zam, please knock it off.” Parkland added in, when hearing the soft sounds of skin thudding against glass.

 

“Parkland, who was that waved at the bus when we were leaving?”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. All I recall is how you guys left in a race, when you two knew better.” Parkland stated back, turning to her next page, glancing upward when hearing movement upstairs, soon going back to reading. Along, adding the following words to Zam, custodies to stop him from hitting his head. “Alan’s up, go see if, he’s up to go play something, together, save whatever brain cells you have left.”

 

“Finally, I thought he never wake up!”

 

The rushing footsteps came and went, rounding through and up the house, before just echoing above where Parkland was reading. Though, she showed no care and went on reading.

 

But the reading came to a stop, as a sudden gusted outside knocked out the power. Girlish screams were heard up stairs.

 

“Really, now of all days, decides to go out, now?” Parkland questioned, slamming her book shut, going to fine a flashlight and go find the boys.

 

To Be Continued . . . ?

Unknowing to all, he walked the streets, able to be seen by some, while others feeling him only as a gust of wind.

 

The young eyes are no fools. They see who it is, but come not close to what this thing is.

 

Cloaked in nothing but red. Face forever is seen unreadable. Yet, eyes are craved from the coldest ice of the northern land.

 

Feet walked the streets, leaving no sound of an echoed behind them. Giving the children who, only more of a reason to run, home or away, he didn’t care for what choice they made.

 

He would in time catch up soon.

 

Until than though, his eyes of ice were only one person thus far, pleasing how close this one was. Yet disgust of the hassle it would be to get closer.

 

Yet, the man in red knows, that everything comes to those who wait.

 

“Park would you hurry up, we’re going to miss the bus!”

 

“Move it slow poke!”

 

The girl of the named Park; stead faster in her steps up to the younger boys, whinnying for her to catch up with them. Both ended up in panic when seeing the slight rage she had. Rushing; off from being caught in Park’s ways of brotherly-love banters.

 

“Hey, get back here you two!”

 

“Not on your life!” The boys ended up calling out at the same time, as they rounded the corner for the bus stopped.

 

The man in red watch the boys, planning to climb the bus stop cover to get away from Park, all while not noticing him as he watched on.

 

Not long an older girl, Park came into view, panting mad from a long scale of running. Her eyes on the boys, ready to shout at them, but stopped, when feeling the icy coldness of the man in red.

 

Turning to face where the stare came from, finding the man in red looking at her, not moving his body of any way. Only having his eyes locked on Park’s.

 

Park couldn’t have been happier when the bus finally showed up. Loudly: ushering; the boys down the bus stop cover, and into the bus, not wanting to hear another word from them.

 

She dared herself once more to look back, only to find the man was gone from where he once stood. She shook it off, rushing into the bus, finding a place to sit, near the boys.

 

Not choosing to answer the questions of whatever the boys were asking. Looking; barely out the window, with much care, in a way of calming herself. Little it did, when the bus was nearing a four way, there was man again.

 

Who just tip his hat to her, made his on a new path, opposite to where the bus was heading off to? Park could eye the man, until she lost sight of him.

 

The End.

He was lost, nowhere to go, chased by something unknowing to the naked human eye. Ending up; in a corner of an unknown building, in who knows what part of the town, aging in time that was ticking away from the pillars to fall at any given time.

 

But where else to go, when those hidden shadows, would never leave him be, more than ever, where was his sister, that kept them at bay, where was she. When knowing, he was alone, with nothing but voices.

 

Though the man in red was nowhere to be seen, it never left his mind. That man could be near at any given time.

 

“Park, help . . .” The boy cried out, not sure what else to do, at that given moment. Having, only leaving the young boy, to himself, to find the way, to shakily speak, again. “Parkland, someone, anyone! Can hear me?”

 

“Alan?”

 

When hearing his name being called, looked to where it came from.

 

“Zam, is that you?”

 

“Who else would it be; Grumpy Saint Nick, really?”

 

Alan got to his feet, moving near the voice, happy to know he wasn’t alone. He was going to something, but was cut by the other.

 

“Park is beyond pissed off right now. I choose we don’t do anything stupid.”

 

“Not something like we’re good at, Zam.”

 

“Do you think she’ll give a damn? I knew I should have brought a cup with me.”

 

Alan let a laugh leave him, rounding the corner of building, still following the voice, which seemed various steps ahead of him.

 

“Where are we?”

 

No reply came right away, but Alan kept moving, looking around. Soon, finding out for, the answer without much help from Zam.

 

“The fire house, how in the world did I get here?”

 

“Yep and a pissed Park is nearing. Shouldn’t have run when I had, but it’s over and done with.”

 

Alan only nodded, coming near where a poll would be resting for the firefighters to slide down on.

 

“Zam, you still here, Park’s coming right?”

 

And for a while, Alan notices he was alone all over again. But now fully knowing where he was now.

 

“If there anyone in here and is happen to be related to me. Be ready, for I am not in fucking mood! After, what I have been through!”

 

The End.

It was never a joke for how this had come to be. Park could never forgive herself if something like was to come. But, somehow, in just a matter of seconds . . . everything of this world around her came crashing down, in a blink of an eye.

 

Finding upon herself, as the sister she was to return home. With, the weather: far from her side, in helps of finding her brother.

 

Making it back home, soak to the bone, face shown mixture of hurt, lost, and worry. Even with the small favor of her parents’ not home, means the news of her brother was just a slight delay. She could head back out, and look for him, but night was coming.

 

Along with the faint feeling of a fever as well, Park could just rest for a spell, heading straight to bed, and head back out later. Leaving a note saying she was staying with friends or something along those lines to fool her parents and stall them for a bit.

 

Even, if just a bit to find . . . him.

 

If I had known it would take this long, I wouldn’t have wasted my time. I am so sorry.

 

Despite the fever being so confusing, Park could have sworn she heard something. The tone, sounded like her, but older, and far human.

 

Saying such words won’t make a difference. He’s gone.

 

Bolding out of bed, looking around her room, sweat covering her. Whatever this feeling was, she wanted it gone.

 

“Parkland!”

 

No, that voice it couldn’t be. In fear she’s cries, hoping it was nothing but her mind playing tricks on her. So loud, she didn’t know that her cries brought the footsteps of others near her room.

 

“Parkland! Help me please!”

 

“Park, are you okay sweetie?” The voice of her mother asked, coming in mousy steps near her, hands of kindness resting on Park’s shoulders.

 

“Mommy, I lost him, sorry.”

 

“Lost who?” Her father asked.

 

“Alan, dad, you know, your son.” Park stated back in confusing as to why she needed to answer that.

 

Her mother looks to her with worry, before adding. “Parkland, we don’t have a son, just you.”

 

“What?”

 

“Parkland, where are you?”

 

“Is this a joke?”

 

“Now you be careful with that tone yours, missy.”

 

“But, dad . . .”

 

“Park . . .”

 

“Parkland, wake up and help me!”

In a sudden jolt, Parkland was up and awake. Seeing she had fallen on the ground some time, tripping on something. With little care, got up, flinching when feeling the slight sting on her right knee, and went on her screech, not wanting that future, where her parents would go that far from keeping such lies from her.

Park refuses to live in a world like that.

“Alan, where are you? You better watch, because you have no idea of how mad I am at you right now!” And took off running down the path she fallen on. Hoping this wasn’t the path of a future where Alan wasn’t in it anymore.

“Alan!” Calling out again, still running, looking for him with little choice of thinking of giving up.

To Be Continued?