Still Alive

Okay, I’m not going to give this up. Throw all the strange looks and bludgeoning words at me and I’m telling you, I’m just going to smile. Yup, I’ve had some sort of a revelation. I’ve shaken hands with my inner self. My writing’s really slow now and I accept that, but there’s no way I’m going to stop and abandon all this. Even if it takes me years to finish, I’m going to see that this story finishes itself; I’m going to see to it that I focus on this little acre of heaven; and I’m going to make sure to dispose of the unnecessary static of confusion.

I see the first scene clearly now and both characters are equally, potentially interesting to me. Two very special people.

A little sneak peek:

Darkness couldn’t hide the tall figure that loomed over little Cady as she lay asleep on her bed. It bent down over her, possibly to whisper something, hoping its words would find themselves crossing over the bridge of dreams. She’d wake up thinking everything that happened that night was a dream. He had cleaned the mud off her shoes before he carried her back to her house and he had made sure restitution was observed. It was unjust of him to constantly bring her deep into the woods and deprive her of her sleep but she enjoyed it and he had seen it on her face. Her smile brightened the dark woods, like the soft uncanny radiance of a full moon on that vast black ocean of a sky.

He tucked her into bed, pulling the blanket up until it reached her neck. Then he crept out the window, which was large enough for his way in, with Cady in his arms, to be his way out. As his small feet–unproportioned to his height–touched the ground, he looked up at the sliver of the crescent moon. As he made his way back to the woods, he slid his boot over the soil, covering up whatever shoeprints had formed on the ground when he had brought Cady back. Covering up was what he did best.

Before he submitted himself to the call of the crooked, gnarled trees of the woods, he looked back at that little one-story house in the midst of fields and felt that longing that could only be satisfied by a killing.

No, the figure wouldn’t keep her tonight. Not yet, at least.

And the song that I listened to while writing this:

Sweet Child o’ Mine by Guns N’ Roses                      from alez15666


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