"I'm not afraid to die, because I know my words never will. I'm not afraid to live, because I know there will always be more for me to say. If my voice was lost, if my sight darkened, if my hands were paralyzed, I could and would still write as long as I had my thoughts." ~Lauren E. McIntosh, future author, forever writer, and fearless thinker.

Saturday, October 29, 2011

Too Hideous to be True

"How many times will I love before I'm broken-hearted?
How many times will this happen to me before I go insane?
How many times will I call something hideous before I call it true?"

Tall and threatening, the dark figure stalked toward me. It hunched over like an animal yet still stood on two feet. Claws protruded through gangly fingers clenched into fists and a low growl escaped its chest.
     I started to run. After about ten feet it hit me...literally. I was thrown to the ground by the blow. My hands and knees caught me, skidding across the asphalt.
     I was pinned. Hot blood ran down my face. My hand reached up to my head and felt a deep gash and an area with missing flesh. My head throbbed.
     The figure rolled me over, forcing me to look into its hideous face. Sharp fangs were barred menacingly at me. Putred breath ran out over my face. I coughed, struggling to break free, but its blood shot eyes held me in place.
     As I sat staring into the monster's eyes, I realized there was something familiar. My fear ran dry, "Jesse?"
     The figure climbed off me. I stood up, "Jesse?...is that you?"
     The animal's head seemed to nod, signalling that this truly my friend. My hand reached forward, but Jesse flinched away, whimpering. Before I could say anything Jesse had ran into the dark, leaving behind a crinkled piece of paper. I picked it up and read its contents...

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