The night breeze blows past jack, his hat flies to the night sky taken by the wind. Jack curses under his breath then follows the hat. For a moment Jack loses sight of the elusive flying hat, but quickly spots it once more. The wind carries the hat inside the old abandoned cemetery, it stopped functioning long ago, closed down because of rumors of it being haunted by souls not wanting to leave this world. Jack approaches the gates of the cemetery, chained and locked, the dismal atmosphere of the place along with the rumors he once heard as a kid scares Jack. Second thoughts of letting his hat go and just buy a new one surfaces in his mind, but as Jack turns to leave a voice suddenly calls out to him. Jack turns to see who was it that called him, but he didn't notice anyone. Thinking it was just the wind, Jack leaves.
Jack slowly climbs to bed, and almost immediately sleep takes captive of him. Jack dreams. In his sleep the world is black and white, he's walking down a cobblestone road. He looks around him, no one was there. Only withering trees, a white sun above hanging on a pitch black sky. Jack resumes his walk, the cadaverous surrounding became reiterative. Same withering trees, same white sun, same everything resting under the black sky. Seconds seem like minutes and minutes turn to hours, Jack walks on though his mind says to stop. After what seems like an endless trek, the cobblestone road ended. In front of Jack lies a huge gate, locked and chained. Jack instantly recognizes the gate in front of him, it's the same gate as the one in the entrance of the condemned graveyard only larger. Jack can't see anything inside, a thick fog seems to be obscuring his vision. Jack turns to leave, but as he walk away a voice calls out to him. The voice was that of a female. The voice holds captive of Jack's mind, enchanting but at the same time terrifying, Jack loses control of his body. He walks towards the gate, not being able to walk away or look away, the voice fills his mind. That sweet, enchanting voice. As Jack reaches out to the gate a ghostly hand grabs his arm. Jack wakes up.
Sweating and bewildered by the peculiar dream, Jack sits down on his bed cross-legged. Inside Jack's mind the voice can still be heard, calling, waiting. Jack slowly climbs out of bed, he enters his bathroom and looks into the mirror. A pale face looks back, eyes bloodshot, with his hair in a mess. "Man I'm getting old, hearing voices in my head, freaky nightmares, what next?" Jack mutters to himself. Jack splashes his face with water, the voice slowly fades becoming nothing more than a horrifying nightmare. "One way to stop this nonsense... I'll go tomorrow."
Oct 21, 2007
Oct 12, 2007
Remnants of war
Gun shots were heard everywhere, the land was stained red. Blood covered the ground, a small encounter between British soldiers and the Nazis left the air smelling of burned flesh and death. Cries of wounded men were heard miles away, cries of men still fighting from the grasp of Death's arms. It was a murky afternoon, the sky was painted red back then. The sun looked pale, smeared with a little black, large clouds of smoke rose from the ground. Even though the battle was over sounds of dying men still filled the air.
The date was 30th of May1942, three years before Hitler committed suicide and a day before the bombing of Cologne. War tore apart Germany--houses were destroyed, families were broken, sadness was everywhere. A small town was just attacked by British soldiers, a small boy was the only survivor. He was told by his father to hide and never come out no matter what. He obediently obeyed and hid under his bed. Moments pass and he heard a few screams, ear splitting screams. He heard his father pleading to someone, that was the first time he heard his father cry, it was also the last time. A loud voice came from an unknown speaker. "Kill them," the speaker said. He did not understood what it meant, it probably was English, his father knew English. His father continued to plead some more, now joined by the voice of his mother, then loud noises came from somewhere, or something. The air was filled with a burning scent, his father had stopped pleading, his parents remained silent. He did not realized it then but tears were streaming down his eyes. He waited till the men left. As he came out from under his bed he saw the body of his dead parents, his father shielding his mother before they were both shot to death. "Papa?" The little boy once full of innocence and ignorance tried to wake his dead father; confusion gripped his ignorant mind. He wondered why Papa was not moving, and why he was covered with sticky, red stuff. Outside the cries of other survivors filled the air--blood flowed down the street, bodies were everywhere. The boy gripping the hand of his teddy bear sat beside his dead parents crying.
After many years the little boy now an old man of 70, sits on a bench watching his grandchildren play. A little girl slowly approaches him. "Grandpa come play with us," the little girl reminded him of his childhood, full of dreams and ignorance. He smiled to the girl an empty smile. The year is now 2007, the Fuhrer was defeated long ago and now Germany is peaceful. The old man follows his grandchild, smiling, but deep inside his heart he'll forever be that little kid holding his stuff animal, dried tears glued on his cheeks, and eyes robbed of innocence in exchange of fear. A little kid that will forever be on that red, stained, sky afternoon of May 30 1942.
The date was 30th of May1942, three years before Hitler committed suicide and a day before the bombing of Cologne. War tore apart Germany--houses were destroyed, families were broken, sadness was everywhere. A small town was just attacked by British soldiers, a small boy was the only survivor. He was told by his father to hide and never come out no matter what. He obediently obeyed and hid under his bed. Moments pass and he heard a few screams, ear splitting screams. He heard his father pleading to someone, that was the first time he heard his father cry, it was also the last time. A loud voice came from an unknown speaker. "Kill them," the speaker said. He did not understood what it meant, it probably was English, his father knew English. His father continued to plead some more, now joined by the voice of his mother, then loud noises came from somewhere, or something. The air was filled with a burning scent, his father had stopped pleading, his parents remained silent. He did not realized it then but tears were streaming down his eyes. He waited till the men left. As he came out from under his bed he saw the body of his dead parents, his father shielding his mother before they were both shot to death. "Papa?" The little boy once full of innocence and ignorance tried to wake his dead father; confusion gripped his ignorant mind. He wondered why Papa was not moving, and why he was covered with sticky, red stuff. Outside the cries of other survivors filled the air--blood flowed down the street, bodies were everywhere. The boy gripping the hand of his teddy bear sat beside his dead parents crying.
After many years the little boy now an old man of 70, sits on a bench watching his grandchildren play. A little girl slowly approaches him. "Grandpa come play with us," the little girl reminded him of his childhood, full of dreams and ignorance. He smiled to the girl an empty smile. The year is now 2007, the Fuhrer was defeated long ago and now Germany is peaceful. The old man follows his grandchild, smiling, but deep inside his heart he'll forever be that little kid holding his stuff animal, dried tears glued on his cheeks, and eyes robbed of innocence in exchange of fear. A little kid that will forever be on that red, stained, sky afternoon of May 30 1942.
Oct 7, 2007
The Solemn Times...
As all light vanishes--
Swallowed by the dominating darkness.
As my fleeting soul slowly dies out,
Memories of you pervade my mind.
As the setting sun slowly disappears behind the horizon,
As my stigmatized heart slowly stops to beat,
As the winds of sorrow blow past me,
Memories of you pervade my mind.
As the dark red moon rises to the sky,
Under the pitch black sky I will lie.
As the burning stars carefully take their place,
Memories of you pervade my mind.
Before all life is taken out of me,
Before that inauspicious last breath,
Time slows to a stop
As memories of you pervade my mind.
My life comes to an unimposing end.
And as my soul hangs limp in Death's damp arms,
And as tears of regret and pain rolls down my face
Memories of us pervade my mind.
Swallowed by the dominating darkness.
As my fleeting soul slowly dies out,
Memories of you pervade my mind.
As the setting sun slowly disappears behind the horizon,
As my stigmatized heart slowly stops to beat,
As the winds of sorrow blow past me,
Memories of you pervade my mind.
As the dark red moon rises to the sky,
Under the pitch black sky I will lie.
As the burning stars carefully take their place,
Memories of you pervade my mind.
Before all life is taken out of me,
Before that inauspicious last breath,
Time slows to a stop
As memories of you pervade my mind.
My life comes to an unimposing end.
And as my soul hangs limp in Death's damp arms,
And as tears of regret and pain rolls down my face
Memories of us pervade my mind.
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