Gone.

Run. That's what you do when you're trying to get away, right? Okay, so I run.

I throw on a pair of shoes. I hope I'm doing this right. I'm not used to getting away. I'm used to staying trapped.

I feel my way around the hallway. It's dark and I can't risk turning the lights on. He might wake up.

I've been here for three months. I made it a priority to memorize every inch of the house. Stairs in two feet. Creaky board in five feet. I might make it.

The house looked like a shack. It was one of the smallest ones on the street. The outside was crumbling faded brick. The roof desperately needed to be redone. The window panes were barely hanging off their hinges.

I was to the door now. The hardest part. I left it unlocked and slightly open last night. This man must be really oblivious not to notice.

I slid through the thin opening. The only thing between me and freedom. Finally, I was going to make it.

The hinges creaked.

I stopped cold in my steps. Maybe I just imagined it. I was so paranoid lately. Then I heard the worst noise.

Rustling sheets. And the groan of an old bed frame.

I ran. This is what legs are for. Leaving. Going away. Disappearing. I don't ever remember running like this. But then again I don't remember anything past last week.

"Willow, come back!" I heard his voice. That dreadful voice. It was laced with worry for the neighbors to hear. But I heard the anger underneath. I wondered if anybody else could hear it. Or if that tone was special for me.

Run. Don't look back. He's old, he can't come after me. Run to the road. Get in a car. Don't look back.

I got to the main road and bent over, panting, to put my hands on my knees. I watched people out the window when they were running, and I saw them do this. So I thought I'd try it out. My pulse slowed and I regained my breath. I fell back on the rough, dead grass. This whole neighborhood was horrible. Garbage everywhere. Screaming. Hitting. Shooting. Small houses falling apart by the seams. But grass was nature. And nature was not that apartment. Anything was better than there.

I ripped up the grass and sprinkled it across my stomach. I saw little kids do this. Then adults would cone and yell at them. I wondered why it was bad to do. The grass was dead anyways, pulling it up was just making it dead in a different place.

A car pulled up beside me. A hideous noise sounded and I covered my ears and gritted my teeth.

"Ten bucks for that," the man inside said. He had a thick accent and stubble along his jaw line. His clothes were dirty and ripped.

"I don't have any money," I replied. I heard the man in the house talk on the phone and picked up words and phrases. I learned that "bucks" is another word for "money", which is a method of payment.

"Damn you're a stupid girl. That's okay, I'm sure you can make up for it. Now get in." His voice was harsh and rude. His last words were a demand, not questionable. It frightened me only slightly, but I needed a way to get out of this place.

I slid into the backseat of the car. The man gave me a strange look but didn't say anything. The car's interior was covered in dirt and smelled of old alcohol. I choked and gagged a little bit. I tried my best to hold any bodily fluids that threatened to escape down so I didn't offend him.

The man looked middle aged, much younger than the man in the house, but older than the boys I saw running frantically down the street at night. The boys that ran always cried. I watched them as they pulled out guns and waved them around. No one else saw when they returned to their houses, they sat and wept for hours. Humans are so fragile. I don’t particularly like them, I’ve decided.

Twenty minutes later the car started to slow down. I had been laying down across the moldy and faded leather seats in the back. When I felt the car slow down and turn I lifted my head up to see where I was. I peeked just my eyes out over the window, hiding from the world.

The house that I saw didn't look much different from the houses on the street with the man. It was dirty and run down, the driveway was long enough to hold the two cars that were parked there. There were patches of green grass, and a few bright yellow flowers that looked like suns bursting from the ground. This house felt so much more safe. Though still not safe in a general sense, because this man driving the car was a complete stranger.

The vehicle eventually slowed to a stop. The man turned around in the front seat to face me. I examined his face for the first time. He looked to be around twenty five, with darkly tanned skin that led me to believe that he spent a lot of time working outside. His eyes were dark and sunk far into his thin face. I felt smewhat bad for him, since he looked so tired and worn out. A flash of pity went through his eyes as he examined me as closey, if not closer, than I examined him.

"How old are you?" he asked in a curious tone, not treatening at all like he had been earlier when he told me to get in the car.

"I don't know," I responded. Which was the honest truth. I had no idea how old I am, or how I am, or anything about myself. But I recently learned that I enjoy flowers.

"How can you not know how old you are. Are you some kind of stupid-" His voice grew louder and louder until he was shouting at me. I felt my face contorting in a natural instint of fear. He must have noticed and caught himself before scaring me away.

"Sorry. You just seem like one of those weird girls wandering around. Can never be too careful, right?" Again, his fatherly tone was used.

This young man seemed to know a lot about this place, and since there was no one to tell me about myself, I might as well learn about my surroundings. "What weird girls?"

"Do you live under some kind of rock? The weird girls who stand out on people's lawns chanting things. No one can figure out what they're saying, probably some weird foreign language. But we can't get rid of them either. When they're not standing around being weird, they're just gone and no one can find where they went."

I had hoped any new information would spark some kind of memory in my mind, but nothing happened. But the news stuck to me and made me wonder further about these strange girls.

"Has anyone been able to talk to them?" I tried to look menacing so he would tell me, but he just returned my stare with a quizzical look.

"Why would anyone try that? This neighborhood is full of cowards. Anyone who isn't a coward brought out their shotguns."

"Shotguns? Isn't that a little harsh?"

He snarled, I guess it was meant to be a laugh, but his face was so contorted it only made him look more hideous. "That’s how this town works.”

I didn’t understand, but dropped the topic. "Can you bring me somewhere else? This house is ugly, and I don’t like it.”

The man frowned. “You haven’t paid me for the ride yet.”

“I already told you I don’t have any money. I don’t know what else you want from me.”

“You really are that stupid.”

Then the man in the front seat lunged at me. His movements were sharp, but predictable. His hands lashed towards me at the same moment I grabbed for the car door handle. I didn’t know exactly how to react to the situation, on account that I had no clue what he planned on doing to me. But I could guess it wasn’t very nice.

I rolled out of the car and hit the gravel hard. My shoulder and thighs burned where they scraped against the ground.

English Project: Mystery Story

Dawn Rosenberg

I quickly walked out the condo before I could hear any more vicious sounds of delicate items smashing against scratched wood floors. It hurt to see my father like this, but from lessons at school called “life skills” I knew it was best to “remove yourself from the situation”.
The stairs leading down the small living place were ragged and broken. Lots of things had been smashed against those too. They would never be fixed, so we were forced to look at the memories every day.
There weren’t many places to go in Spanaway, Washington. But I had been running through the town enough times to memorize where everything was. My favorite place to go was the playground, which might seem weird for a girl in high school, but that’s just the way my brain works.
I started my jog at a light and slow speed. No need to rush, since I had a feeling I would have to be out for a long time before my father could calm down. The sun was just starting to set, and it spewed brilliant colors against the dusty blue sky. I wanted to stop and gaze at it, but it was dangerous to stand on the side of the road. Sunsets were always the most beautiful in Washington. Not that I had ever been out of the state, but anything more stunning than this would be overkill.
The further I got from my house, the cleaner and fresher the air smelled. In fact, all of my senses heightened with every heavy step I took forward. The warm summer wind against my face stung, but it was a humble reminder of every inch of my skin.
The tops of the three sets of swings loomed ahead over the hill. Most of the metal poles were rusted completely, but they still served their purpose, which was to bring simple joy to children or teens, in my case.
I didn’t stop my jog. Instead I sprinted into the nearest swing. I jumped over the splintering wood and plopped into a sitting position. I took a minute to observe my surroundings and catch my breath.
There was one toddler playing in a sandbox and gurgling to the tune of a song I’d never heard before. A babysitter, possibly, lied on a bench near the child. She stared up at the sky with a look of longing. I too turned my head upward. Now, the clouds looked like ghosts of sharp orange and magnificent magenta. The sun had barely touched the horizon. It was a beautiful, if eerie, sight. I had maybe three quarters of an hour before night settled.
Pumping my legs, I climbed higher through the thick air. Once I was at a height where I could see across the whole park, I reached down and untied my shoelaces. Then I sat back up so I wouldn’t lose any momentum. Closing my eyes, I kicked off my ripped up sneakers. I listened for the thud of them hitting the ground. After forty seconds I opened my eyes just in time to see one navy shoe with threads billowing off its edges hit the dirt. Strange, I thought to myself. I didn’t think I kicked it that high. But my mind was elsewhere today, maybe I counted the seconds wrong.
I continued my blissful swinging, bathing in thoughts of happier times. Then I started thinking about that pair of shoes. Suddenly an odd thought occurred to me. I had only seen one shoe land. I never saw or heard the right one touch the ground. Perhaps I was just losing my mind tonight. But just in case, I slowly opened my eyes, all the time I still swung back and forth on that rusty old swing.
Searching the ground for any object that might resemble a shoe, worry crept into me. The sun was now going down at an alarming rate and now I was barefoot. Even worse, the one shoe that I had seen minutes before had disappeared.
I stopped pumping my legs back and forth and leaned against the movement of the swing. I looked around to see the toddler in the sandbox now having a tantrum. The girl who had been lying on the bench leaned down to pick the little boy up and carried him out of the playground.
The child could’ve taken my shoes, but that was unlikely since it would’ve had to have moved very fast in and out of the sandbox.
Before the swing had come to a complete stop, I had jumped off and was running around the area of where my shoes could possibly have landed. Then a bright color caught my eye. Tucked carefully under the corner of a large stone, was a leaf. In mid-summer, I was not expecting to see a neon red leaf lying around. As I looked close in the dim light, I saw there was a word imprinted in the direct center of the leaf.
Keep.
Keep? What could that mean? Did it even mean something? I looked around again, for anything that would be another clue to this curious word. Then I saw it.
A red treasure chest, made of plastic of course, and the corners were bitten, probably by a dog. I smiled. “Keep” was referring to something you would keep something in. What would be in this little chest, I had no idea. But I doubted it was a treasure, unless of course it was my lost shoe, which would be a precious treasure to me. This seemed like some form of mind game, and though it was frightening, part of me couldn’t help but feeling entertained.
I ran over and opened the chest to find another leaf. This one was electric blue with another single word on it.
Fall.
I sighed inwardly. I don’t think my shoes are worth this effort. If I want to get back before the streets become dangerous, I had better start back now. I felt a prick on my ankle and yelped. Probably just a bug, I thought. I glanced down and saw it was a spider. I’ve been to this spot in town a hundred times. I’ve explored every inch of the soil a thousand times. Never has there been a single spider in the area. I swatted the creature away and looked up for something one could fall from.
The monkey bars would be an obvious choice. But there was nowhere to hide a bright colored leaf there. There was also the rope structure that I used to climb up when I was younger. But I was the only kid who would fall from those. Unfortunately, there wasn’t any other option.
Of course, there was a leaf wrapped around the intricate pattern of ropes. I had a nagging feeling that whoever was playing this joke knew me personally. Something as simple as a rope wall was easy to climb, and anyone else wouldn’t be expected to fall.
This leaf was neon green. It reminded me of the color of the woods in the morning. The word on it this time didn’t give me any help at all.
Forest.
This is just great. The sun had dropped fully under the sky and it was now night. Surrounding the little playground was miles of forest. Whoever put these out must be crazy to think I would just wander into the woods at night with no shoes.
But then again, I had nothing worth going home to.
I started towards the edge of the wood closest to the swing set. At this point I was just wandering based on memory, because I could barely see my own hand in front of me. And because today seemed to be my lucky day, I tripped on a loose rock.
After mumbling some swears to myself, I reached back to find what exactly I had stumbled on, I felt stiff fabric, then rubber, then laces. It was my right shoe. I laughed to myself at how silly the whole situation was. Then I slipped my shoe on and walked further into the woods.
It had been seven minutes, according to my watch, that I had been walking aimlessly through unfamiliar forest when I heard a rustling in the leaves above me. I looked up and saw a figure jump down and land about four feet away from me. As my eyes adjusted to the new movement, I saw the figure was a person. It looked like a boy around sixteen years of age. He stuck out his arm and for a second I thought he was going to strike me, but then I saw a flash and heard a thud. I looked down to see the faint outline of my left shoe. Thankful for the ease off my bare feet, I quickly grabbed the shoe and slipped it on. I didn’t bother to fix the tongue or pull the laces out from the inside. The boy was still standing there. He walked a few steps in the opposite direction I had been coming. He turned around and may have given me a meaningful look, but I couldn’t see since it was pitch black out now. He waved his hand to me until I took a reluctant step towards him.
I am definitely going crazy. Why would I follow this boy? Even if I was lost in the woods, I would’ve found my way out eventually. But who knows where he could be taking me.
Eighteen minutes later our sprint had slowed, and the forest stopped. He stopped and looked straight ahead into the distance. As I leaned over to catch my breath, I realized where we were. This was the back of my house. I spun around taking in the view from this spot. I had never even realized there were trees in our backyard. I was too obsessed with leaving to see what was around me.
I became acutely aware of the boy next to me. Now his features were dimly lit by the street lights in the distance. His features were sharp and it made him look rather serious and unhappy.
He took one backward step, then turned around and swerved between the trees until he was out of sight. That was really strange, I thought. I’ve never seen that boy before, and I knew almost everyone who lived here. Maybe he didn’t go to the local high school. I wonder if I’ll ever see him again… How did he know where I live? Why did he steal my shoes?
Muffled sobs from inside the house distracted me from my thoughts. I remembered my father and how I had left him. One thing to deal with at a time.
Walking up the back porch steps, I turned back for one last look. I could’ve sworn I saw a person hanging from a tree, but my mind was playing a lot of tricks on me tonight.
I made a silent resolution to take my runs in through these woods instead of on the street.

These nightmares are getting really bad.

I walked along the road back to the camp base. It wasn't that much further away. I bet I could get there in no time. A few minutes later the sun had fallen past the horizon. Darkness closed around me. At first I figured there was nothing to worry about. I was on a main road and nobody around here would do any evil. But then I remembered. But then it was too late. Vines wrapped harshly around my ankles. They pulled and tugged at my every limb. I tried so hard to break free, but thorns dug into my calves. I screamed out. In the dead of night, no one could hear me. Before I even hit the ground, I had lost consciousness. I dreamed of seeds yelling at me. Screaming out my flaws and wrongdoings. I woke to normality. The road was just as it was before. Not a vine in sight.

"We won't make it in time. The sun is already going down." I was frantically worried. No one had any idea what happened when I was captured by the vines at night.

"I promise it'll me fine, there's still some time left." Sarah skipped along the snow dusted on the edge of my driveway. The tree at the bottom was massive and out of proportion, as everything was in dreams.

The sun stopped falling. I didn't question it, just raced to the end of the road leaving Sarah muttering about a text message from Margot. The hole in the ground was very large. I slipped into it, somehow knowing it would lead to the base camp.

I was in an airplane. A girl sitting beside me, and people surrounding us. They announced I would be paired with my longtime friend, who I can't recall the name of. He looked over me and smiled. The smile gave me the same frightful feeling I had gotten when I felt my legs surrounded by thick plants. Fearful dread.

I woke up with tears swept along my face and my legs quivering. My mouth was full of sores from biting my lips in my sleep. The nightmares.

Nightmare.

It was so loud. Booming music reverberated throughout the massive room. Not that I had been drinking alcohol, but my head was spinning in the most amazing way regardless. I had no clue what was playing, because it was so loud. But it had an energetic feel with lots of background techno-like sound. There were so many people, all crammed together. Shoving against each other, people didn’t even know who they were dancing with. But with a smile so glorious and care free on their face, they didn’t care either.

The whole world seemed to lock into place in that gymnasium. Everybody was in synch, and nobody cared what race you were, or how tall you were, or how much makeup you wore. Every single person just was, and every single other person enjoyed you just being. It made you feel like you belonged. Like maybe it was somehow possible that someone out there in the world wanted you to be there at that exact moment so they could dance with you and a hundred other people.

A person walked by and grabbed me around the waist. Colors flashed and there was a flood of movement around me as people repositioned for the next song. Strobe lights glazed the walls and ceiling. The air was thick and heavy with the summer air. The arms around my waist loosened and the rhythm of the crowd quickened. The floor pounded from the jumps of countless people.

A breath in my ear, and I twirled to face it. Oh God, there was perfect face, the perfect person to share this moment with. My senses blurred into a grin. The lips facing mine mirrored my action. It was all I could do not to gape at this magnificent boy. This boy of my dreams, with coffee colored hair that smelled of the woods and reminded me of crashing waves. Hazel eyes with specks of white, yes there was an endless white in the color of his eyes. He had a soft jaw line that gave his face a lighter look, less serious. And finally, thin, but lush lips, which were moving. Why is he talking? Shut up boy, I just want to dance away what little time we have. But now that he was talking, of course I heard every word that came out of those delicate lips.

“I miss you. Come back to me.”

“Stop it! What is it with you and talking at the worst times possible?”

“You need to understand how much I-“

“Don’t care? Okay I get it. Can you please just leave me to savor this splendid moment? Thanks.”

“Willow, that’s not what I was going to sa-” His brow furrowed, but I didn’t want to hear it. Any of it.

The music turned up louder to drown out his words. Now it was impossibly loud, so loud I couldn’t hear a thing. I watched his chest rise and fall in an exasperated sigh. Giving in is easier, he would learn that eventually.

I took that moment to look around. The once exotic and beautiful party members had now turned to cardboard that moved stiffly. The bodies had no shapes, no faces, just a slab of cardboard with rough and pointy edges that wobbled around.

“LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO MY BEAUTIFUL PLACE. YOU’VE SPOILED IT. YOU’VE RUINED IT ALL.” The music changed to a dull, monotone beat. It sounded the tick of a clock, but deeper and more eerie. I pushed the boy away, but he didn’t stumble, didn’t even move.

“You are the one who has tainted the worlds. You can’t control anything. This is one thing you have to give up. No longer are you in my mind, Willow, never again will you be. What was the past stays in the past. We will never be. Stop trying.”

“My glorious dream… you turned it into a nightmare. You monster.” The girl’s voice shook. But I couldn’t connect with her body to make her strong again. I couldn’t bring reason to her, as her mind blocked it all out.

The boy sneered, and walked out. He just kept walking off into the Edge. The girl cried out and I reached for her, but it wasn’t enough. The cardboard beasts turned on her and beat her. One in particular grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. It had a face, and eyes of the color of a midnight storm, with evil laced through them.

“You should’ve known you would be no better without me. You’re stupid, and I pity you for that. But I won’t help you, because I don’t need you anymore. In fact, I never did. I used you, Willow. We all did.”

The girl bled from her wounds but made no sounds. She sat in silence and took blow upon blow. And I sat, far away, feeling every touch she received.

I woke up to the drone of my alarm clock. My face streaked with crusty tears. These nightmares won’t cease, and it kills me to remember in the morning.

I rushed to the bathroom before my mother could point out anything strange. I turned on the bath so no one would hear my cries. I washed away the evidence, and I sobbed, and I pretended to forget. Because that was the new routine these days.

Landscapes/Other

Landscapes/Other

Flowers/Garden

Check mate.

Sunsets (2)

(not a sunset, but still in the sky...?)

Sunsets (1)

Portraits

I am conquering my fear and uploading my best pictures.

2.44

One foot in front of the other, in a straight line, hips swaying dramatically. One foot in front of another. Following the invisible line that was somewhere deep in a memory, that line that always leads me forward. That's how I knew forward from backward. Walking backward felt like running through sand. You are blind, you are deaf, and you are stuck. By backwards, I don't mean the literal walking backwards like the children do in races to see who has swifter and more accurate feet. The kind of backwards I experience is through memories, and dreams of course.

You can get lost in a memory. It's not that hard, all you have to do is forget how you got there. You can't get away from something when you don't know how (or even if) you got there in the first place. And then before you know it, you're crying and screaming and you have no idea where or what you are. You are lost, in a memory.

There is pain, and you can feel it. You'd be surprised how strong a memory is. Every sense heightened. There is happiness, and it takes over you. Light pours out of you, like a sun. You are a sun. That's how happiness is.

I sit. Because that's what people do when they see a chair, or a stool, or a couch. No one stares at it like an idiot, wondering how many people in a factory touched it before the whole world went around sitting on it. Nope, normal kids don't do that. First thing you should know about me, I'm not normal.

Bend legs... yes I remember how to sit. I think. Voices buzz around me, god I hate that buzz. Music flips to full blast; I don’t even realize my fingers move sometimes. They take over me and they know what’s best for me. Thanks little dainty fingers, I appreciate it.

My name, Willow, is shouted from someone. People, can’t you see I’m trying to take root into the ground and become invisible? What are you doing calling out my name? Stupid children, we’re all so stupid. Great, now everyone is staring at me. Music turns down, fading away, no, sweet clarity and predictability, don’t leave me.

I greet them, those stupid children. I just want that buzz to go away. I hate how all their voices buzz like that. Maybe you can’t hear it, but I always do. It’s always eating away at me. How can these people walk around like it’s nothing, when their voices are causing such chaos?

“Shh…” I murmured to myself. I like to pretend I have power over all of them. That I could just stand up and whisper, “Shh” and they would never speak a word again. But, alas, I don’t.

The worst part of all of this is that my voice too buzzes.

“Hey Willow, how was your weekend?” If I had a buzz-ometer, it would’ve exploded by now.

“Fine,” The buzz settled around my shoulders, and into my ears. What a pain, this voice was.

“Why just fine and not good? You should have more good weekends, Willow.” Who the hell was this kid anyways? I lifted my head up for a better look.

It’s a boy. Great, these were the worst to get rid of. I assessed him carefully. Jet black hair, soft and thin looking, that framed his face nicely. He had big, wide eyes, surrounded by a line of eyelashes, blue eye color with flakes of golden. Interesting eyes I will admit… His body was lean and skinny, not in a muscular way though. Sickly pale skin wrapped around his stubby fingers.

“You checking me out?” He sneered at me. His voice was rich and thick, like a blanket. There was a slight hint of buzz, but not nearly as bad as the rest of them.

“No,” I keep it plain and simple. The less words the better.