Demons

“How did you find me?” I hissed, straining to see my captor.
A man’s voice answered with a hint of disdain,
“I know your kind, you’re all the same.”
“You are sadly delusional, Jace.” I relaxed slightly to have identified him even though my eyes were firmly covered with a black cloth. “I am as different from the next as a human is to his neighbor.”
“Shut you, monster. You’ve already gotten on my nerves by running away and I have something very sharp in my hand and it’s inching to become better acquainted with you.”
I stopped talking.



“Jace, they really want this one.” Tom brushed up the dirt beside my body in which they were all convinced was currently asleep.
Concentrating carefully on the three boys standing around me I sensed the boy named Jace’s eyes narrow.
“And why is that?” His tone was controlled.
I felt Erick’s eyes roll. “Same thing as always, of course; she must be wickedly powerful.”
“Interesting choice of words. Do know what she can do yet?”
“No idea, Jace.” Tom said, shrugging. “We’ve kept her drugged up to the max just in case and she hasn’t talked yet.”
“When did she fall asleep?”
“Right before you arrived.” Erick answered quickly and added as though it was crucial he said it, “But she would stare at us, with a slight smile, like she could-” But he fell silent at a pointed look from Tom.
I forced myself not to smile, still straining to feel out every movement.
“It wasn’t a big deal, Jace, honestly.” Tom’s heart rate jumped as he tried to cover up for his friend.
There was a painful moment of silence.
“Erick. Look at me.” His eyes rose unwilling from my curled form to meet Jace’s. “What is the problem with falling in love with Demons?” Jace whispered in a surprising soft voice.
“They’re evil as hell?” Erick suggested and now it was Jace’s turn to hold back a smile.
“Besides that?”
“They-um-they…ummm-”
“They can’t fall in love back.” Tom finished for him, his gaze lost in the surrounding forest.
Jace nodded his approval.
“Demons are void of most human emotions, and anything as gentle or selfless as love is far past their scope.” I felt my teeth bearing slightly behind closed lips, but luckily only Jace saw it. He continued talking though, his eyes fixed on me now and I had an acute feeling that he knew I was awake and possibly awake for the entire time. “So you claim that she was watching you funnily, as though she could see right through you, perhaps?”
Erick nodded, looking a tinge apprehensive.
“That is all psychological, your ability to feel makes you incredibly difficult for her to understand you on any level besides pure physicality.”
I didn’t have time to gouge Erick’s purely physical response before I was sorely distracted by a different presence very close to where I lay, feigning sleep.
“I know you’re awake. Now sit up very slowly and don’t do anything foolish if you still value your cursed life.” I held very still as Jace whispered very close to my ear.
After a long moment or two, as instructed, I pulled myself up in a timely fashion and focused my gaze on the boy reaching manhood named Jace but again my attentions were diverted to the large, obviously sharp sword held tightly in his hand, pointed at my heart.
I was only slightly comforted by the hand dagger pressed against my left heel because even though yes, I could pull it out of my shoe and chuck it at his neck, this boy was in absolutely no danger of death by my hand, not at moment at least. At the moment, I was in shock.
I’d never seen a human so fierce or beautiful in my entire life of fifteen years. His features looked carved and perfect in the fading light of a completely crappy day for me at least. His eyes were dark but bright, alight with hatred, all for me.
My shins and knees began to burn slightly in my kneeing position. Trying to retain whatever dignity I had, I nodded coolly at his weapon and lifted my chin ever so slightly.
I heard Erick’s laughter but continued to watch Jace steadily.
“Haughty, isn’t she?” He said, delighted at Jace’s astonishment.
Astonishment? I didn’t get that from him, how strange. Now looking harder I could see the emotion etched on his face but concentrating with a bit of fury I realized I wasn’t able to read any of his emotions but had to guess them from his expression, like someone normal.
I hissed in frustration.
Erick who thought it was in response to his comment sobered up his face, eyes fearful and wary. Even Tom took a full step back. But Jace hadn’t reacted in anyway but to push his sword a few inches forward so the tip touched my chest.
Tom asked, “Well, are we just going to kill her then?”
“No, you said she was sorely wanted?” Jace asked Tom, looking thoughtful. “Oh this is ridiculous.” He said suddenly to me. “Give me that knife.”
My hand which had previously been hesitating toward the little dagger at my heel now reached down to retrieve it. I didn’t even consider taking his life as my arm obediently reached out and handed him my only weapon.
My eyes widened while I fully appreciated my hasty action and I glared at the boy now twirling my dagger.
“Pretty.” He said, admiring it.
“What are you?!” I spat out.
He said nothing, just watched me. My heart beat frantically and I was uncomfortably aware of the sword point cutting into my skin.
“He just knows how to deal with your kind.” Erick said with a savage pleasure at my helplessness. Men.
I let a smile that I’ve carefully mastered fill my face as I surveyed Jace, wondering if he would react like his friends who immediately took to me, charmed.
Instead I was rewarded by increased pressure from the sword and rather than tempting him he now looked scared, fearful of me for the first time.

rewriting essay sentences

*Sally jumped from activity to activity with my brothers, keeping them endlessly entertained and paying as little attention to me as though I were invisible.*
9: Sally entertained my brothers as though I were invisible.
7: Sally entertained brothers and I was invisible.
5: Brothers entertained, I was invisible.
3: Invisible, brothers entertained.
1: Invisible.

*But it is to say that I made each and every babysitter prove themselves, not directly, but until they gained my trust and respect they had no purchase to my obedience.*
9: I made every babysitter prove themselves for my respect.
7: Every babysitter proved themselves for my respect.
5: Babysitters proved for my respect.
3: Respectful of tested.
1: Test.

*One of my greatest weaknesses is how closely I protect my affection for people; and how incredibly backward it is.*
9: My backward weakness is protecting my affection of people.
7: Weakness of protecting my affection of people.
5: I protect my people affection.
3: Protecting my affection.
1. Backward.

poems

Death

We scurry under the black hand
Some are crushed and break
Others look up and smile, unafraid
Those who live are rarely fake

Our high thoughts are pressed
Restrained, hidden, fallen, gone
In lowness we flourish, laugh and cry
Some fear the night, others die at dawn

What say we when our names are called?
Promises hang like chains, they bind
The dark we gave, the light we took
Now just a mark where the sun shined

Invisible

I’m invisible but don’t lose me

I’m not sure of the way back

I’m falling but don’t let me go

I’ll search for the things I lack

I’m invisible but don’t hurt me

With one false move I could fall

I’m crying so close in your arms

So big I’ve never felt so small

I’m invisible but don’t push me under

I’m almost out of breathe

Tied to a fate so inescapable

I’m feeling the rough lines of death

I’m invisible can’t you tell?

My color fades as the tears flow

You’ve given me the rope to hold on to

I only fear I’ve slipped too low

Essay Reflection

My essay illustrates the concept of making relationships more complicated than need be and losing at your own games. More specifically it resembles friendship when the dynamics change with age difference or position of power (such as a babysitter and child) and failing in completing the construction of your own fabricated game.

It was harder than I had originally anticipated to write about my experiences with the junior on my volleyball team last year because it forced me to realize how immaturely I handled the situation. After writing that section of my essay I actually went back and apologized to the girl.

If I could make changes to my essay it would most likely be revising some word choices to make them more interesting or appealing. I might also remove the small paragraph in the middle of my "Sally Greenwald" memory where it was my pondering over whether she would check on me again that night to see me angelically asleep mainly because I don't feel like it was my strongest writing or essential to the essay as a whole.
It was unexpected and a little fun to pour out the babysitter memory mainly because it is still vivid in my mind. But I was really surprised how easily I was able to format and write it because usually I'd struggle with processes like that.

The Tribute

Though Mirabelle hid in silence, crammed in the dark unpleasant tent, the tears could not be helped. They poured from her green eyes in waves of renewed anguish. She wept for the mess she’d somehow managed to create, all the damage that would never be repaired, the people she hurt. Chase’s face burst into her head, the expression he had worn when they’d heard the wind whispering, Mirabelle Rosaline Winters over and over again.
There was no way out. Her name had been called; no one survives when their name is called from the millions. It’s the risk one must take if they wish to pursue magic. And now Mirabelle knew it was no longer a random occurrence when a name was chosen, she had caused too much trouble for The Order to be allowed to live.
Moreover, she was sure it would not be quick. Sick images swirled menacingly in her head, all the ways they would enjoy finishing her off. She would suffer, Mirabelle took that as fact.
And again the rush of emotion took her. Tears fell until her face, hands, hair, and heart all were soaked. But they didn’t stop, salty droplets rolled from her cheeks and each time they dropped it was a small reminder that Mirabelle was still alive, still breathing, not quite dead just yet. And that’s when the idea hit her. Born from the increasing, dominating darkness settling in her mind, it called to her like the sweetest song she’d ever heard.
As though in a daze, Mirabelle searched the small tent for something, anything that might work. Her bleary eyes found the meat knife Fredrick had sliced the disgusting burnt salmon last night. It shone, piercing a deeper part of Mirabelle as she squatted, staring at it in the semi-darkness.
Her eyes closed, and she choked back rising bile, feeling around the cold dirt for the knife’s handle. A sharp pain and spreading warmth told her she’d found the blade, but as her hand closed around the smooth handle, she realized with a slight jolt that her minor injury in her right hand would mean absolutely nothing in a couple minutes.
Rather than being overwhelmingly emotional, Mirabelle felt almost nothing as she traced the dirty, but dangerously jagged knife lightly over her chest, searching for her heart. Dramatic though she knew it was, Mirabelle decided it was the best place to puncture, quick and lethal enough that if Chase or Fredrick did manage to find her shortly after, she’d be beyond saving.
But what she did not anticipate was the ripping sound that filled her ears as she’d pulled the blade away from her body, preparing to plunge it deep. The tent flap was whipping in the wind and another sound presented itself in Mirabelle’s left ear.
“You’re a coward.”
A much larger hand had grabbed the knife from her shaking hand, tearing it from her grip and throwing it to the side.
“I thought you were stronger than this, Mira.”

I stopped smiling at passengers I’d say about two or three hundreds years into the job. At first I’d made an unspoken promise to myself that I’d be cheery and maybe even pretend to take an interest in people’s lives and stories of their deaths. But that got boring pretty quickly. Even though I’ve only been the Ferryman a couple thousand years, I feel as though I’ve heard it all. Car crashes, heart attacks, weapon wounds, diseases of names I can never remember, and so many other ways but believe me they’ve all been told by one soul or another.

I usually wait a full year before I take a load across; it’s just more convenient that way. But you’d be surprised at how impatient and so incredibly self-absorbed some people can be. They die, Death carries them to me, and I tell them they have to wait thirty days or so and suddenly it’s the end of the world.

“Why can’t you take me now!?”

“I have to wait? Absolutely ridiculous!”

“Who put you in charge? I’ll steer the goddamn boat across myself!”

That last request is highly amusing to me. One day I’d like to see someone try and ferry this boat across, try fifteen years of training and thousands of practice and then come talk to me.

Although over my time I’ve gained a heavy dislike of humans, I still find it interesting how easily I can tell you someone’s personality in life just from the expression on their face when they realize where they are. I could tell you who was brave, who was cowardly, I could spot an intellect from his calculating gaze, and I could tell you who had no brains from their blank bewilderment.

I may seem unkind to your eyes but really I’m just jaded. Imagine a simple, mindless task and then imagine repeating it year after year for thousands and in the time in-between, suffering from the ceaseless complaints and threats from noisy, annoying souls.

I couldn’t tell you what the date was mainly because I don’t keep track of the living world anymore but also because I’ve never had a mind for small details. But I could tell you that today was a fine day because tomorrow would mark the start of a new year, on my calendar of course, down here where no one can tell me differently. It’s much less complicated to argue and reassure whiny souls when I have a deadline as close and solid as that. I considered leaving today just because I didn’t think I could stand the constant tetchy voices any longer, all with some bone to pick with me. There are times when I can’t believe the injustice of it all, if they’re not happy with where they are now, they should blame Death, not the Ferryman.

But on the whole I decided on my original departure of the boat. Not that it did much good anyway. Death only had gotten around to carrying one soul down to me that day. My first impression was that she was very lucky indeed; Death had cut it a little close for her.

At sunset and when everyone was loaded and packed upon the boat, I announced the departure and untied the thick ropes. As I glided us away from the black waters of the port, I spotted the young girl who’d arrived only today leaning heavily over the side of the boat, a strange expression on her translucent face.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. If you fall in there you’ll never come out again.”

She whipped around to the sound of my voice and asked me for my name. I hadn’t been expecting that but I decided to answer her anyway. I was caught up immediately.

“I…I can’t remember.” Suddenly I felt like weeping, an action that felt completely foreign to me. What was my name? I’d never had a need for it before because no one had asked.

“Mine is…Courtney. Courtney Emily Rosales.” In her pause I was scared she’d forgotten her own as well.

“You forget things quickly down here.” I warned her. “Eventually you will vanish into the many.” Why was I telling her these things? Why was I even talking to her?

But she only nodded seriously and glanced out over the dark water. Then abruptly she smiled. There are only two kinds of people who smile down here. Those who still aren’t aware that they’re dead, and the insane. I looked closer at her face to make my judgment and was sad to realize that she was so much younger than most of the souls I carry across. She can’t have even hit adulthood yet.

“How did you die?” I asked to see if she knew of her death yet, and was surprised to find myself genuinely curious for her answer.

She didn’t respond for the longest time. Usually departed souls won’t stop talking but I was impatient for her to start.

“I don’t know.” She drew out each word carefully with guarded eyes.

“You’re a liar.”

“Aren’t we all?”

I didn’t answer. Instead I looked out at all my passengers and they’re hopeless, intolerant faces.

“Where does this boat go?” I met her questioning eyes. “I mean, where are you taking us?” Usually I always answer this question, just to shut them up. But for her,

“I don’t know.”

“You’re a liar.”

“Aren’t we all?” I muttered under my breath, “Aren’t we all?”

Now it was her turn for silence. She twisted her head to the front of the crowded boat, where I stood with the wheel. It was rather depressing to watch. I could see she still expected a breeze to blow her hair about and maybe even sunlight to warm her skin.

But the air down here is cold, still, and tasteless. It carries no emotion and soon those who linger long enough down here find themselves fading into impassive, dull creatures.

But I think it was even sadder to see a soul who still expects to feel the sensations of the living world. She was still breathing for godsake. No one needs to breathe when they’re dead but it was such a natural thing for her that she hadn’t stopped yet.

Her wide-set eyes never left the black water gently skimming under the boat and again the queerest expression seemed glued to her young, pretty face.

I finally understood.

“You drowned, didn’t you?”

She tore her eyes away from the water and twirled her hips to answer me.

“This is all a dream isn’t it? Isn’t it?!” She was almost yelling now, a few people turned to stare at her and then at me. “In a few moments I’ll wake up in my bed and go to school and forget all about this stupid dream in a few stupid hours of a stupid life.

“Tell me this is all a dream, man who can’t even remember his own name!”

And at that moment I wanted to scream back at her and cover my ears like a child and tell her how she was acting like every other complaining, selfish soul that I carry across. But as I opened my mouth to speak, her shoulders drooped slightly and the short-lived smile vanished wholly. I thought her I heard her mutter “I want my life back. I want it all back…” I caught her blue eyes again and saw them flooded with memories and searing emotions, a sharp pain pressed my chest in response. I also saw easily that she knew exactly where she was and what was happening, but further that she was asking me to lie to her.

“This can be a dream, little one.” I took a deep breath. I didn’t need it of course but watching her continue to inhale and exhale made me forget that and I murmured calmly. “In a few hours you among the billions before you will disperse out of conscientious thought and time, no more pain, no more happiness, no more life. But here, and right now, this can be a dream.”

false memory

I remember seeing his car parked in front of the house, his mother’s large, unwavering smile. My brother’s merciless teasing for hanging with a boy in the full-blown cooties age of time (3rd grade). The car ride over was quite an event, Zach talked non-stop about the lake, giving me details and assuring me that he would show me the awesome water slide.
I remember the tall wooden cupboards in his large and pretty house on a hill, full of tasty snacks and I remember being offered frosted flake cereal and refusing out of politeness though I was actually dying for some. I remember changing into my blue and green bathing suit when he left the room.
I can see the lake clearly in my head. It was wide and gigantic with a small section roped off in which I later suffered as the “training” section where they determined if you could handle
the deep parts of the lake. I remember Zach arguing with the lifeguards, saying I didn’t need to tread water for five minutes and that I was a perfectly competent swimmer. They let me go before my five minutes were up and he immediately took me out far in the lake to the huge
water slide.
I remember the staircase up was metal and hot from the sun and when we got to the top I remember being terrified for the first time of my life. Zach noticed my hesitance and told me he
promised to go down with me and save me if I drowned if I gave him a kiss. So I kissed him lightly, blushing furiously. And then we went down the high and ridiculously fast water slide.