Old Writing Tidbits – Part 1

I went through some of my old writing files. I’m someone that keeps even the tiniest writings I do forever. A writing pack rat. Decided to share these. Most of them are horrible to me, but thought I’ll let some people laugh at them.

There will be five parts. Four short scenes and one poem. I don’t even call them short stories, they are just 1 or 2 pages ideas of scenes.

These are pre-2007. Skeletons from my writing closest. I’m not even going to edit them, and I’m sure there are mistakes I’ll see after all these years.

Part 1: Hollow Night

It was a hollow night and the wind’s echoing weaved through the forest as if it was an eerie prolonged scream. The ground hid underneath layers of snow laid by the storm from a night before. The wind lifted the fallen snow into small twisters that flowed between the trees like playful spirits. A few of these passed over a body that lay within the white canvas of the snow.

It was a young woman, in her earlier twenties, who was facing towards the sky. Her eyes were closed, so she could not enjoy the sight of the stars peeking through the branches above. Her body was clothed in a simple bedtime outfit and, indeed, she had been asleep for a couple hours. She was frostbitten all over her sickly thin figure. It did not help that during those hours, the twisters had slowly started to bring snow over to cover her body like a blanket. If she had entered into an eternal slumber, the forest was ready to accept her.

Yet, the hands of heaven had not taken her and she knew no peaceful rest. Her slumber was full of nightmares and misery. And that misery was not ready to end. Her eyes flickered open with a small yelp of pain and a shiver cascading down her body. She sat up and hugged her knees, crying for a half hour just from the pain and the cold. It was silent aside from her sobs and the wind.

Long auburn hair lay damped upon her head as the patches of snow and ice, trapped within its strands, started to melt. Her perfect complexion was ruined by a wound extending from her forehead, down the side of her face, and stopping just before her chin. Her pale skin was stained by the fresh crimson that still flowed from the deep cut. Bright green irises were lost within her reddened tear-filled eyes. Often drops of blood rolled down her forehead, fell from her brow, and smack into her barely opened eyelids. She nearly could not see as tears escaped her eyes and blood coated her vision. Every now and then she lifted her arm to rub her eyes, smearing her white pajama’s sleeve with same blood that was blinding her.

As the crying still neared no end, an empty feeling started to form within her mind. Why was she here? How did she get here? Where was here? These questions flooded her thoughts and she searched her memory for the answers. In the back of her consciousness a faint image tickled her awareness. She tried to grasp for it, physically reaching out one hand and leaning forward on her other one. Her fingers wiggled as she saw nothing but the image in front of her and she knew her touch was so close to it. Her tears stopped and she ignore the pain coming from her fingers’ blacken tips. Suddenly the questions did not matter and all she desired was to see the image clearly. The hand that was supporting her slipped and she slammed forward onto the ground.

The young woman stayed with her face smothered by the snow. Pain raided her body again with her goal gone. For a brief moment part of her wished to end the pain and just drift off into sleep again. That plunged her into a downward spiral of self-loathing she did not even understand. How could she have thought such a thing? She lifted herself off the ground and onto her swollen feet, grunting in pain. Her eyes still could not see but part of her believed she did not deserve to see now after thinking such a thing.

She heard a train roar through the silence and flinched in surprise. “P-p-people…” Her voice choked out barely. She turned towards the sound and started to walk in that direction. She swayed a few times, gripping trees to keep steady, but she finally was dangerously close to the train tracks. She felt the strong wind of the last few cars passing right in front of her. As it died down she tried to run after train, not wanting to be left alone any longer. One of her feet jammed into the side of the tracks and she fell forward.

Her face became buried in the snow again and she could not breathe. This time she quickly pushed herself up on her side and then tipped over onto her back again. As she wiped her eyes dry of tears and blood, she wondered if this had happened last time. It was merely passing thought though as her heart jumped. The image was now above her like a stained glass window with the stars shining through it. She could now see the lights of the sky as they produced bright tints down upon her through the colored glass. She lifted her hand towards it. The bright lights made it impossible to see what the image was, but now that did not matter to her. She did not even care about how she ended up here. All she cared about were pretty beams that seemed more intensified than any colors she had seen before. It was so beautiful to her.

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