Sci-fi writing competition winner!

Due to the... ~cough cough~ Evenness of the votes for the two competition entries, I am going to declare the winners as tied!

Entry #1 ~gets overwhelmed by the insane applauding~ Exciting, clever, with wonderful characters! Pretty much totally brilliant. :3
Was written by... RAVEN!
Or as I like to call her, our very own Raygun!
~applause everywhere~

And Entry#2... ~a few half-hearted claps~
Well, you know. It was cool.
You gotta admit, it was a little bit cool, eh? eh?
LOL, well, that one was written by me! :]
I tried... >.>
~few more claps~

The winners!
The Supreme Commanders of the Mother Ship!

... That was fun. :3

See you for the next competition!

Sci-fi Competition Voting Area

Okie dokie, so ends this competition.

There were a couple of other people who were going to send in entries, but unfortunately it's been a few days since the competition deadline, and they haven't managed to send in their entries.

Therefore! As you can see, it will be a faceoff. :]

This is the voting area. Read the short stories, vote here for either Entry 1 or Entry 2 and "sign" your name at the bottom of the comment.
We'll declare the winner in a few days!
Have fun reading! :D

Sci-fi Short Story Competition Entry #2

  A time long ago... There was a planet a good distance away. On this planet, whose name was Galerog, lived an orphan, who, based on earthly terms, would be an alien, and, based on Galerog terms, appeared to be a native. Unfortunately for this orphan, his mother and father were from a neighboring planet called Galrosh, and when this little Galroshian was born, a meteorite struck the planet, destroying that world and nearly all of its inhabitants. The little baby was sent off into the sky in a pod, landing soon after on Galerog.

  Not finding any name, or any articles to identify this baby, some local farmers took him to Miss Larzen's Orphanage, where he was soon dubbed Sprocket for his enjoyment in playing with electrical devices and always ending up fixing them, young as he was.

  Nowadays, being old and wise at the age of twelve, Sprocket spends his time in a gorlong house [or, on earth, it would be known as a "treehouse"]. He makes things, fixes things, and hangs out with his best friend, Raygun.

  Now, Raygun was a girl who liked talking about aliens, not that anybody actually believed they existed, but she would look in mysterious books and magazines and was always coming up with "spacey" names she thought creatures from another planet might call themselves. She would often amuse herself by spouting off absurd names, and would go on like this: "Suuuuuusan... Rrrrrrrebecca! Rebecca! That sounds spacey, doesn't it? I bet aliens live on that Martian planet in that milky galaxy, don't you, Sprocket?"

To which Sprocket, who was in the middle of building one ingenious device or another, would reply, "If aliens exist, Raygun, you would come up with some pretty cool names for them, I am sure... " After which, he immediately returned to creating a new type of robot, lasergun, or common household appliance.

  One night- it was the month of Billy- Sprocket  was outside with Raygun. He had created a telescope, and Raygun was testing it out for him. There was a streak of light across the sky, but instead of disappearing in the atmosphere, it got bigger. "Spock," this was Ragun's nickname for Sprocket," I think that star isn't a star... I think it's a meteor."

"Well, astronomically speaking, if it's more than a flash of light, than it's a meteoroid...," Ragun gave him a look. "Just saying..."

"It's coming this way... Do you think GASA knows about it?" [GASA- this is the Galrogian Aeronautics and Space Administration, for all those earthlings who may be reading this.]

"Of course they do... Let me have a look for a moment.... Hmmm..., you are right. It appears to be entering the atmosphere. I do wonder if it's coming this way?"

"Oooooh! I bet it's aliens! It has to be aliens! At long last! They're coming to visit me!"

"Forsooth, perhaps they will experiment on you... Sometimes I'd like to..." Sprocket quizzically arched his brow at Raygun.

"Well, I believe you could do a proper examination. How're you so smart anyway?"

"I do not know. When your aliens arrive, ask them fortwith, and I wouldn't be surprised if they are able to tell you. Ultimately, if they come here at all, they will have the superior technology."

"Well, let's wait and find out."


  Two hours went by and the meteoroid was very near. "Spock, I think it will land here."

"It seems you are correct... Let's get in the woods. We will have some protection there." They fought through the growth, climbing over springy leaves and shrubs, and got far enough in to have some safety while at the same time, being able to see what was now a meteorite.

  It got bigger, and before ten minutes passed,  it was shooting towards the clearing on front of them. Sprocket and Raygun watched as it flew in at an alarming speed, but just before crashing to Galerog, it stopped, so abruptly one could just picture the inhabitants- if there were any- slamming into the glass of a window, and hovered for a moment, incinerating the grass below it, before settling on ground.

  It was small, no broader than casket, no taller than a TARDIS. It looked more like a big rock or what one would expect a meteorite to look like.

"I told you it would be aliens..."
"Ray... I owe you five dollars..."

The meteorite spaceship sat still for a moment.

"Maybe I should go touch i-"

"Do not! Bad idea."

It vibrated, shuddered, and split in half, straight down the middle, the halves tumbling over like the pieces of a neatly sliced caspermelon [similar to earthly cantaloupe]. There strangely wasn't any steam or alien astronauts though.

"Um...," mumbled Raygun.

"Ok... doubtlessly it is a bad idea; however, my curiosity gets the better of me, and GASA will surely be here soon.... We will look at it."

Raygun grinned and stood. The two of them hesitantly made their way over to the space... thing, and peered gravely at it from three feet away. They could make out strange designs, curlicues, if you will, all around the cracked open edges... The designs lasted for about a foot inward, and then dropped down into a depression. They cautiously stepped closer to see what was inside.

  A small cylinder, not much bigger than the size of a pencil, rose from the depression, turned towards the half-way-retreating Raygun and Sprocket, and emitted a blue light, apparently scanning them up and down. It beeped happily and a hologram appeared before them.

"Spock? He... he looks like an older version of you..."

"Seriously? My ears are not that pointy... He looks like an elf...."

The hologram started talking, "My son, I sent this rocket to you, just after sending you yourself into space. I am afraid it may not reach you immediately; however, at least you will know who you are..."

Raygun looked at Sprocket, "Is he talking to you? He's... your dad, isn't he? He even talks like you, avoiding contractions when necessary, making things a little more complicated just for the fun of it..."

The hologram started up again, "My name is Cornelucious." [A pronunciation for non-Galerogians: Cor-nel-Lu-see-us.] "I am your father.... Your mother and I come from a nearby planet, Galrosh, and... my son, I am afraid that it is now destroyed... Your... your mother and I are gone... I am sorry I cannot be there to raise you, but the least I could do is send you this and tell you what I can."

  "First," Cornelucious continued, "you will be a special child to Galerog. We Galroshians have... immense brain power. With that, if you explore it, train yourself, not only will you be a genius, but you will have the ability to do amazing things... Practice, my son, always, and you can do almost anything."

  "Second, in this rocket, I have sent three things. The first is a Galroshian pennadote. I believe the Galerogians call it a 'puppy.' I put it into a sleep, so when it feels the fresh air, it will awaken... He will be a friend to you, my son. Secondly, I have sent you a sword. Yes, I know swords are fairly old fashioned these days; however, this was my sword in the great Barnatic War, and it served me well.... Lastly, a picture. I have sent you a picture of your mother and me, for you to keep close to you always... So you can remember us, and remember the great power you have within you."

  "My son, I do not know what they call you on Galerog, but here, your name was Steve. Your mother and I love you, Steve. Have a long life... Prosper, Steve. We will meet again one day."

The hologram smiled, flickered, and cut off.

Two seconds of silence, broken by the rumble of a helicopter on its way.

"Spock... That's probably GASA... We need to go."

"You... you are right.... Let me get these things first...., and we will go."

A scuffle, and a little puppy popped its head over the edge of the depression, woofed happily, and tackled Sprocket.

Raygun laughed, hefted the broadsword, carefully took the picture, and managed to extricate the "thingy that showed Spock's dad" without damaging it irreparably. "Come on, Spock, what are you waiting for?"

He was in the process of trying to figure out how to calm the... what was it called? Pennadote? From drowning him in slobber.

"Kneel! Sit! Roll over! Play dead!" This final order caused the puppy to freeze, lull its tongue, roll its eyes into its skull, and tumble over. "... Wow..."

He scooped the dog up, and they disappeared into Miss Larzen's Orphanage, leaving a split meteorite to baffle GASA ten minutes later.

Sci-fi Short Story Competition Entry #1

Ashley sat on her roof, watching the meteor shower.
She heard someone climbing up to the roof and she turned to see who: it was her best friend, Ben.
“Knock Knock.” He said as he finished climbing and stood on the roof.
“Hey,” She said, facing the meteor shower again. She heard him sit next to her.
“Everything OK? You only ever come up here if there’s a crisis.” He says, getting to the point, as usual.
She shrugs. “Everything’s fine.”
“I don’t believe you, Ash, I know you too well for you to lie to me; now what’s the problem.” He says.
She sighs and turns to face him. “I’m mov-“
“What the hell is that?” He demands, his face staring out at the meteor shower.
“It’s a meteor shower.” She says simply. “You’ve seen them before.”
“No, not that,” He says, pointing to something below the skyline that’s glowing different colors, from purple to yellow, from orange to blue.
“What the hell is that?” Ashley says, repeating Bens’ words.
They both stand and gawk at the sight.
“Let’s go check it out.” Ben says turning and climbing back down from the roof.
“What?” Ashley says, following.
“Let’s check it out.” Ben repeats.
When they get to the front yard, Ben takes off running in the direction and, after a hesitant moment, Ashley follows.
After a while of running, they’re both ready to collapse.
They sit beneath a tree, breathing hard and seeing spots.
“What… were….you thinking?” Ashley demands between gasps.
“We’re…not far.” He answers, looking out in the direction of the lights, which they could still see even from their position on the ground.
“I…can see that.” She gasped.
They sat there for a few more minutes, until their breathing returned to normal, and then continued, albeit at a slower pace, down the street towards the lights.
The lights led them to the forest that was clustered on one side of their small Oregon town.
They walked deeper until they got to a small clearing, and stopped in their tracks.
In the center of the clearing was a crater. They looked at each other before continuing forward hesitantly.
Ashley's foot hit a rock and she glanced down automatically. That was when the problems started.
Her momentum took her forward, and she tumbled down into the crater, landing heavily on her ankle, and she felt the bone snap, and she cried out.
Ben rushed down after her, and found her rocking back and forth, holding her leg that she'd maneuvered out from under her.
"Are you ok?" He asked.
"Do I look ok?!" She snapped between gritted teeth. "I think my legs broken."
Ben looked down at her ankle. It was turning black and blue, and was twisted at an odd angle for an ankle. He cringed and looked away, and that's when he noticed the singular rock in the center of the crater.
"What's that?" He asked, getting to his feet and walking towards it.
When he got close, it started humming. A low sound at first, but it gradually got louder until he had to hold his hands over his ears to keep his eardrums from bursting.
When he got close enough to see that there were strange scribbles all over the rock, the humming stopped as suddenly as it had started.
The top of the rock slid off, revealing a white interior and two hands reaching out. Ben jumped back, startled at the rock suddenly breaking and the hands appearing.
After a hesitant moment, he walked closer and grasped the hands and began pulling whoever it was out.
When he's pulled the person out, he noticed that it was a girl, who appeared to be about seven years old, with white blonde hair and she was wearing a white robe. Her eyes were a stormy blue, which really contrasted with all the white.
She opened her mouth and a strange clicking came out. He stared at her, and she frowned and tried again, this time it came out in Spanish.
He held up his hands in a confused gesture and she sighed in frustration.
"I hate to interrupt," Ashley said from where she still sat, cradling her ankle. "But my ankle is kinda broken over here."
Ben walked over and knelt next to her again, followed by the strange rock girl, who looked at Ashley's ankle in what seemed to almost be confusion.
"Sorry Ash," Ben said.
The strange girl reached out and grabbed Ashley's ankle, making her cry out as pain shot through her leg.
"What are you-" Ben's voice trailed off as the girls' hands began to glow over Ashley's ankle.
After a moment, the girl set Ashley's ankle down and she moved it experimentally and found that it didn't hurt to move it anymore and it was no longer an ugly black and blue.
She stared at the girl in amazement. "T-thanks," She said. The girl nodded, a smile on her face.
"Who are you?" Ben asked. "And why can't you speak English?"
The girl spoke again, but this time it was in French.
"She doesn't know," Ashley said. "She doesn't even know how she got here."
Ben gave her a questioning look, and she shrugged. "I take French, remember? Top of the class."
"I remember," He said with a laugh.
The girl was looking up at the sky, like she was looking for something.
"Can you understand us?" Ben asked. The girl looked at him and nodded.
"I understand," She said hesitantly.
"You do know English!" Ben exclaimed.
"Of course I do," The girl said. "It just takes me a moment to remember the exact pronunciation for every language. They get mixed up."
"What's your name?" Ben asked.
She thought a moment. "You could not pronounce it." she said.
"Molly." Ashley said suddenly, and they both glanced at her. "What? I think she looks like a Molly."
"Molly." The girl said, trying the name out. "I like it." She smiled.
Suddenly, they all heard a noise that sounded like a semi-truck being dropped on glass, making them all jump to their feet.
Molly ran to the rock and placed her hand on one of the scribbles and it started to glow with a faint green light that pulsated out, surrounding the crater.
"What was that?" Ashley asked.
"Protection sigil." Molly answered, looking up at the sky.
Ben and Ashley glanced at each other before also looking up, just as something exploded right above their heads. They both dropped to the ground, covering their heads with their hands. Molly remained standing, unaffected by the explosions that were still happening above her head.
"What's going on?" Ashley shouted over the noise of the explosions, but Molly didn't answer, instead pressing another of the scribbles.
This time, no symbol shot out light to shield them, this time, the rock changed shape, or rather, it opened, so that it looked like a chariot from Greece without the horses.
She stepped forward and stood in front, pressing more scribbles and making more light shoot out to join the green until there was a rainbow above their heads.
"Molly!" Ben shouted. "What's going on?"
She glanced at them, but didn't respond, instead hitting another scribble and sending what looked like a toy rocket shooting up and going past the barrier, and hitting something, causing it to explode.
"Why can't you just take your private war somewhere else?" Ashley shouted. "We have family here! What if they get caught in the crossfire?"
"I did not ask them to follow me." Molly said as she sent another missile up. It hit something and exploded, giving them a brief view of what was attacking them.
It was a ship, and it was huge.
"Who are you?" Ashley asked, staring at where they had just seen the ship. "What is that thing?"
"That would be, I believe as you call them, the mother ship." Molly answered. "As for me, I am no one."
"I doubt that." Ben said. "They wouldn't be attacking you like this if you were no one."
Molly began to respond, but just then five missiles hit the barrier and exploded, sending them all back to the ground.
There was a sound like a megaphone coming on and then a loud voice said, surprisingly in English. "Why do you fire back?"
"It speaks English?" Ashley asked.
"Apparently." Ben said as he helped Ashley to her feet.
Molly just looked at the ground, refusing to even look at Ben as he offered her a hand.
The voice said something that sounded more like clicking than anything and Molly cringed and finally looked up.
"Why did you fire back?" The voice repeated. "And why did you involve these earthlings in this matter? Just like you to be selfish."
"Me? Selfish?" Molly shouted up at the voice, then, apparently figuring it couldn't hear her, got to her feet and ran to her rock and grabbed something that looked like a radio from a plane and spoke into it. "Me? Selfish? Have you looked in the mirror lately?"
"You dare speak that way to me? You dance on dangerous ground." The voice said.
"Excuse me," Ashley said. "I hate to interrupt, but what the hell is going on?"
Molly didn't answer.
"What is going on?" She repeated, and when Molly still didn't respond. She took a deep breath and ran up to her and grabbed the radio from her and spoke tartly into it. "What the hell is going on?"
"You must be one of the humans," The voice said. "I apologize for my daughters' behavior, she has been quite a handful as of late."
"That's alri- wait, your DAUGHTER?" She said.
"I'm afraid so," The voice said. "This is highly irritating, one moment please."
There were sounds like he was hanging up, and then a beam of white light appeared at one end of the crater and a tall man stepped out with white blonde hair like Molly's and, also like Molly, he was wearing a white robe.
"I apologize for her behavior." He repeated. "Her tantrums are very extreme."
"I wouldn't have reacted like that if YOU'D had just been reasonable." Molly said, crossing her arms.
"Excuse me," Ben said. "But you almost destroyed our town over a DISAGREEMENT?"
"It appears so," Molly's dad said. "I apologize once more, please, allow me to heal what we have hurt."
He snapped his fingers and the light returned and slid across the ground towards them and, before they even knew what was happening, Ashley and Ben were aboard what looked like something right out of Star Trek.
Molly walked over to one of the nearby chairs and sat down with a sigh. Her dad walked over to the controls and started hitting some keys that had the same scribbles as Molly's rock had.
"There," He said with a satisfied smile as he turned back to them. "Everything is as it once was."
"Thank you." Ashley said.
He smiled again and turned to Molly and his expression changed to one of disapproval. "I will not embarrass you in front of these earthlings, but do expect repercussions from your little 'trip.'"
"Yes, father." Molly said. "I'm sorry." She looked up at him with what could only be described as a cutesy look.
"That's not going to work this time." He said sternly, and turned towards Ben and Ashley again. "I will send you back to your homes now, and I apologize once again for my daughter."
The light appeared again and before they knew it, they were both standing on Ashley's roof again, but this time, the lights were gone.
"Wow," Ashley said. Ben nodded silently.
They both climbed down and said goodnight to each other before Ashley went inside and Ben walked down the block back to his house.
The next morning, Ashley came down the stairs, expecting her mother to tell her that she should stop digging her heels in and just pack, but her mother didn't do that.
When she walked into the kitchen, her mother was sitting there just staring at the phone.
"Mom?" She said when she walked in. "Is everything alright?"
"Y-yes." She said. "I'm just surprised is all."
"Surprised by what?"
"Well, you know how my job transferred me to Florida?" She asked; Ashley nodded. How could she forget?
"What about it?" She asked.
"They changed their minds." Her mother said. "They've given me a pay raise to stay here, saying that no one can handle the people here like I can."
It took Ashley a moment to fully understand what her mother was telling her. "We're... we're staying?"
"Yes." Her mother said. "I guess we are."
Ashley screamed and ran over and gave her mother a hug. "I have to go tell Ben!"
She ran out and down the street to Ben's house and rang the doorbell until his father opened the door.
"Oh, hello Ashley." He said.
"Is Ben up?" She asked. He nodded and let her in.
She walked into the living room and saw Ben sitting on the couch, playing a video game.
"Hey, uh, do you remember last night? I was going to tell you something?" She said. He looked up and nodded, though he didn't seem surprised to see her here. "Well, I was trying to tell you that I was moving to Florida because of my moms job."
He sat there staring at her for a moment.
"But before you say anything, those plans have changed." She explained. "My moms bosses gave her a raise to stay, so I'm not moving after all!"
He stared at her some more.
"What?" She asked. "Say something!"
"You're staying?" he asked, and when she nodded, he started to smile. "Good."
"I wonder what caused them to change their minds." She said, sitting down next to him. He shrugged.
They sat in silence for a long while before Ashley stood. "I'm gonna go check out the woods."
"Why? Her dad repaired everything they'd wrecked."  Ben said.
"I know, but I still want to." She said and left.
She was halfway there when she heard footsteps behind her. "What took you so long?" She asked.
"I had to finish that level." Ben said, falling in step beside her.
She smiled and they continued until they reached the clearing where the most exciting night of their lives took place.
The crater was gone and there were no remnants of the missiles that were sent back and forth between Molly and her dad.
"What's that?" Ben asked, as he walked over to a tree. She followed him and peered over his shoulder as he looked closer. It was a piece of paper, tied to the tree.
"What is it?" Ashley asked, and Ben started reading.
"'Dear Earthlings, I hope you are reading this and not some random hiker, that would be hard to explain, and the memory wipe machine is malfunctioning so that would be hard to clean up.
Anyway, I wanted to thank you for not freaking out over the whole alien thing, although to us, you're the aliens, I think I'm losing control over this now so I'll just wrap up.
I apologize in advance for this, but I did a little research and I saw that the human earthlings mother was being, what was the word? Transferred so I took the liberty of, how shall I put this? Changing their minds, we'll just leave it at that.
Once more I apologize, but you two seemed to be a great team and it would be a shame to split that up. Now, I think this note is becoming, as you earthlings say, ramble-y. So, goodbye earthlings.'"
Ben and Ashley shared a look and started laughing.
"We have to get this framed!" Ashley said. 
"Agreed." Ben said and untied the note and they started walking back to their houses, looking up at the sky and wondering, what else was out there?
The End

Writing Competition

Hello, everybody.
It's been a long time since we've had a writing competition!
Raven reminded me :D
How about one now, ay?

Let's say, the theme is sci-fi, i.e., spaceships, laserguns, aliens, sharktopuses, etc. Go ALL out! :]

Ok, word limits don't work very well... Let's just try to keep it reasonable. How many words per page? Um, yeah, I don't know. Well, let's say... 2500 words? Is that large enough? lol, if you go a little over, it's alright.

Turn it in by the 15th of September by emailing me at, and I'll post them right around then so we can vote. :]

I really hope you enter! Have fun!!

Everyone... Go Back to Blogland

Blogland needs you, my friends.
I miss you.
I miss ALL of the old-timers, and I would just.... LOVE to see you in Blogland again.

Besides, showing up and chatting like you own the place is exceedingly enjoyable :}

I know, I know, everyone is strange and new. I think every time I go to Blogland now-a-days I meet someone new, but hey, meeting someone new eliminates a strange new person to meet. Plus, if we all go back, even it's slowly, even it's once-a-month or less, we'll find each other.

Don't feel like it's useless. Even if you can only hang out for ten minutes, GO. Chat for ten minutes, then leave if you must. Don't disappear forever. Nothing is worth losing your friends because you're just so busy. If you try, I know you can make a little time. :D

Please come back. :]
I love you guys, and Dereksville Blogland desperately needs your crazy, brilliant, fun, adorable, creative awesome-sauce and epica spontaneity!

When you read this, post it on your own blogs [re-awaken the magic of them!] or email it to a friend from Blogland you haven't spoken with for who-knows-how-long.
Let's rekindle the old-timers.
Let's rekindle our own, special place again.
I miss it, and I desperately miss you.

~hugs a million times over~

I hope I see you soon!!!! :D

New House

My small house, sitting lonely in the countryside, holds up well against the storm. It handles its share of battering wind and rain surprisingly well. I had thought that the building's structures would be weak, which would have explained why it was so cheap on the market. But I have yet to find a problem with my new, cozy little house, even during one of the country's worst storms in five years.
The terrible weather woke me early on my first morning here. Trying to get back to sleep with the racket outside would be a fruitless attempt, so I get up and shuffle to the kitchen. A fairly modern kitchen for such an isolated place, with a large glass sliding door facing the back garden: a narrow rectangle of grass that stretches far, littered with some trees down the bottom, and enclosed by a sturdy fence. The storm is raging this morning, and the far off trees bend backwards against the force of the wind. The rain relentlessly drenches the glass, cascading down it like a waterfall.
I turn to the kettle, deciding to start my day-in with a cup of tea. As the kettle boils, I take a good hard look around the kitchen. It still feels to good to be true. There must be some problem with his house. Yet the worktops aren't scratched, the appliances aren't broken and the walls aren't falling apart. I begin to stroll around the room, inspecting the tiled floor as the kettle begins to whistle. Finding nothing, I turn toward the glass door, expecting to find the torrential rain leaking through its borders.
I find not a leak, but a young man standing outside. The shock takes me back a step before I can determine that he is not a threat - his casual t-shirt and jeans stick to his body, soaked through and through, his tall frame equalling the height of the door. His young face is pinched tight, struggling to see through the early morning darkness and the weather. He looks to be in his twenties. His knuckles tap against the wet glass door, but I cannot hear the noise they make over the howling wind. He moves his lips, and I assume he's asking me to let him in.
I hurry to the door, anxious to get him inside out of the storm, and yank on the handle. It's locked, and I signal to the man "One moment!". I scavenge the kitchen drawers and cupboards - Where the hell was that key? I find it eventually and rush to unlock the door. I slide it back without resistance and am immediately assaulted by wind and rain. I instinctively shield my face before reaching out to the man.
But my hand doesn't find him. Startled, I look up again, and can no longer see a figure in front of me. Only the grey haze of the storm. I peer harder into the rain, but cannot see him anywhere.
Realising the rate at which myself and my kitchen were being drenched, I tugged the door back into place, locking it again and leaving the key in the handle.

The next morning I wake early again, once more to the fault of the continuing storm. And once again, I don't bother trying to go back to sleep. I trudge through to the kitchen, making a point to glance at the door before switching on the kettle again.
I try to focus on the sound of the water while adamantly staring at the worktop. I try to think of everything except my back door. I try to push the image out of my thoughts. But still I turn around, and find the man back at my door.
He knocks on the glass, more aggressively this time but I still can't hear the sound it makes. Nor can I hear his shouts. He's definitely shouting this time, and he looks angry. Angry at me?  I had stayed and looked out for him all day, but he never came back - he has no reason to be angry at me!
I stalk up to the door, unlocking the already placed key, eager to let him in and set him straight. I throw the door open and glare at the man-
Who no longer stands before me.
I pull the door shut without hesitation this time, but keep staring through the glass at the spot where he stood.

The storm continues to rage on, showing no signs of easing off any time soon, and for three more mornings he stands at my door again, banging at the glass, and demanding he be let in. But I am too angry with him to even try.  I discover that if I do not try to let him in, he will disappear the next time I go to the kitchen. So I ignore his silent protests and go about my business as usual, throwing the occasional glare his way in the morning.
As the mornings passed, it got easier and easier to ignore him, to leave the angry man outside in the storm. So as I am woken up early on the sixth morning, I expect no challenge as I crawl to the kitchen.
I switch on the kettle as usual, and don't bother to look at the door. This morning, I won't even give him acknowledgement, not even in the form of a glare. I make my tea and take a seat with my back to the door. For a couple of minutes I sit calmly as normal, only the sounds of the storm breaking the silence. But something feels wrong. This morning, it isn't as easy to ignore him. More than usual, I feel the need to turn around, to see him. I'd like to think I could hold my resolve and stay determined, but only after another minute of awful tension do I turn to the glass door.
There he stands, in his usual spot as expected. But today, he does not look angry with me. He looks scared. He looks terrified. He silently slams his hand against the slippery glass and yells to me, pleading, begging. I get up, and guilt slowly drags me forward. He keeps looking back over his shoulder, and his eyes are getting wider. I inch closer. Is his face wet, or is he crying?
I reach the door handle and hesitate. He is screaming now, and his body shakes. But it's one last look at his desperate eyes that melts my will, and I pull the door handle.
He disappears again, and I am about to charge out into the storm and hunt for him, furious with him for tricking me yet again. But the sight of my glass door stops me: the heavy rain that normally runs down the slick glass is now thick with blood. Red is splattered wide across the entire door, and slowly runs down with the rain water.
I watch it until the last drop reaches the bottom. Until his blood is washed away.

The next morning starts as is now the norm, with the storm as my early wake-up call. I dread making my way down to the kitchen, not sure what to expect at my door. I turn on the kettle. A deep breath. I cautiously turn to face the glass door...
And there he stands. In his usual spot, in front of the door now streaked with the messy blood stains he left behind. I hadn't thought to properly clean it. I didn't want to.
He is unmoving, expressionless. He only stares straight ahead of him.
Gingerly, I step to the door and slide it open. He disappears again. I knew he would. But guilt forced me to try.
I look to his spot on the ground, and carefully stand there myself, to see things from his perspective. The rain pounds my back and the wind threatens to throw me off balance. But I close the door from the outside, and look ahead to where he was looking only moments ago. I can see nothing of importance in my kitchen as I try every conceivable angle of vision. I look to the bloody glass around me, and try rubbing it with my hand. It squeaks, but doesn't come off.
I let out a sigh and glimpse the reflection of the trees in the shiny glass. I keep my gaze's focus on the glass itself, and turn to look straight ahead of me. And in the reflection I see a distant figure standing among the trees at the back of the garden.
I turn and narrow my eyes down the stretch of grass to the thin tree line, but cannot see a figure. Yet as I face the reflection again, sure enough, a figure can be seen.
I start to panic. I grab the door handle and pull on it. But it does not open, and I can no longer see the key in the other side.
Before I can try to open it again however, a woman seems to walk into my kitchen. She wanders around for a while, before catching sight of me. I don't know how she got there... but she can let me in. I knock on the door, and call to her. She stands like a rabbit caught in headlights, utterly stunned. I knock again, asking her to open the door, and eventually she rummages around looking for the key. I tell her where it is, but she doesn't listen.
At last she finds it and comes to open the door. She slides it open-

I'm outside the door again. The woman is still inside the kitchen. I bang on the glass. Why did she not let me in? She doesn't turn around. I'm really getting frustrated. I bang harder and shout to her. I can feel the storm's chill deep within my bones. After a minute she notices me, and I glare at her. How long was she going to make me wait? Just let me in already! She fumbles with the key and opens the door-

I'm still outside? And the woman is still messing around! Get out of my house! Let me in! I start to scream at her, and pound against the glass door, but she doesn't turn. She's ignoring me.

Still I bang on the door, still I yell at the stupid woman, and still I demand to be let in, when I check the reflection in the glass again. The figure is definitely getting closer. I thought I was imagining it before, but he is now halfway across the garden. But now as I look again, he is moving. Slowly but surely, he stalks toward me.
I bang on the door again, but the woman still ignores me.

He is getting faster, and I am screaming louder.

He starts to run toward me, and now so does she.

But he is faster.


I want to run, run, run; run so far that my ankles have burst, and from them, seeds have spread out and have planted others just like me, trapped in a small place that is inept to hold a person of freewill and far-fetched ideas. I want to climb, climb, climb; climb these fences that I get better at jumping each and every day, climb the rocky walls built in an effort to control the ones with wild thoughts and uncontrollable urges, the ones like me, the ones who question the definition of reality and the idea of sanity. I want to jump, jump, jump; jump so high that I can't find the ground again, and my feet are left floating and my hair is left swirling around my head as if it was underwater, as if I was drowning, when really I am flying. I want to crawl, crawl, crawl; crawl so wholeheartedly that there is a permanent crust under my fingernails, and there are stains on my knees and scrapes on my cheeks that burn when I sweat; but it is the burn that tempts the flame into a wildfire. I want to shake, shake, shake; shake so jerkily that from my ears pour millions of trapped thoughts, thoughts that have been crushed between the pages of my mind and tucked into the corner of my head, the corner that is not allowed to be untucked. I want to rip, rip, rip; rip into people, and words, and lullabies, and rip into pages so hard, so hard that the book it’s folded into falls onto the floor with only shreds as remains. I want to scream, scream, scream; scream because I am terrified or furious, because I am miserable or delighted, because I am pleasured or burned, screaming with pain and with intensity and with a fierce love. I want to burn, burn, burn; burn others and have others burn me, burns that come from vicious romance and burns that come from sudden realizations, burns that turn into open flames in the soul that ignite our need to be beautiful and our own person. I want to stretch, stretch, stretch; stretch my words into novels or my emotions into decisions, or my ideas into inventions. I want to grab, pull, mend; grab the arms of the person who is burying me beneath the soil that is my fears, and pull their hair so that their skull bursts and their own doubts come flying out, and mend their bodies back into the beautiful person they were before they let their own insecurities mold them into a creature of spite. I want to walk, listen, learn; walk along a road that I have helped pave with my own memories, and listen to the sounds of life around me, and learn to let the everlasting beauty in the universe keep me forever satisfied and of peaceful mind. I want to be free, and one day I will look back at the desires I describe in this very moment, and I will chuckle at the fire in my head that told me I could control my own path.