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I was born of good blood, kind parents caring for me as they should. Never did I mess with the law, and A’s were boldly displayed on report cards magnetized to the kitchen refrigerator. I was polite to everyone I encountered. I saw the glass half full. In other words I had a positive state of mind. But good people do bad things; stupid things. Sometimes they can’t control it. The opportunity comes along and they grab at it without knowing what it is, lunging off their feet and reaching out until the skewed goal is in their hands. When I saw those roadblocks, I became that person. All reason floated out my ears and drifted to the skies.
It was three weeks and three days after my freshman year started. I had just spent a long hour in Mrs. Rieder’s math class writing out a proof on the midsegment theorem and learning about polynomials. The day had finally ended with the bell and students poured out classroom doors eager to bask in the summer sun’s glow, which appeared a yellow great circle in the sky. Gary was in band, Suzy on yearbook, and Tony learning how to function in society (aka seeing a therapist), so I had no one to walk home with. I decided to take the long route, since I was in no particular hurry and the day was comfortably warm. I skipped along the sidewalk, noticing how the concrete slabs seemed to form a very distinct, yet boring tessellation. I hummed to myself breathing in the fresh air, having no care in the world.
That was when I ran across the roadblock. Two cones stood aside the road, three parallel strips of yellow caution tape slung between them. Past them, the road seemed to go on and from where I stood in front of the roadblock; I could see no reason why the path was barred. Not exactly enthused with the idea of having to turn back and walk all the way around, a sudden thought came to me. Why not just jump over the tape? It wasn’t as if a bolt of lightning sent by the almighty Zeus was going to strike me down and divide me into two symmetrical halves. With that thought, I stood on point and climbed over the barricade.
Once over, I thought I was going to be run over by an enormous shamrock cement truck or attacked by a ferocious dog the size of a house with twice the volume of drool contained by your average golden retriever. But, alas, neither of these happened. Instead I was greeted by the gentle hand of the wind. Still, I was a little shaken by the roadblock and I felt peculiarly precautious.
Deciding that I was in no immediate danger, I decided to keep on lumbering in the direction of my household. It must have been no more than 10 minutes when I happened upon a large cliff. Its length seemed endless while the width seemed no farther than a few body lengths away. Several steps to my right was a thin bridge suspended from edge to edge which lay perpendicular to where I currently stood. Tangent to the far cliff edge, were jagged rocks lining the beginning of where the road picked up again. Now believe me, random cliffs appearing where there normally aren’t any, was surprising to me, and perhaps I should have turned back, but right then my fear seemed acute. I was hungry and tired from walking so far and I really just wanted to get home. I had already traveled past the barricade, and come on, cliffs really aren’t that bad, so I neared the thin bridge and stepped on.
While tiptoeing in a straight line across the bridge, I stared straight ahead in order to keep my balance. My eyes happened on a large building in the distance. At first it seemed shaped like a regular house, like a boxed shaped prism, but suddenly it shifted into an Egyptian Pyramid. I almost fell with the shock. I squinted, sure my eyes were playing tricks on me, but the image didn’t waver. The pyramids? Here in the suburbs of Petaluma? Just when I thought this shifting building couldn’t get any stranger it began moving side to side as if riding the arc of a rainbow. The building seemed to taunt me, daring me to travel closer. Not one to pass up a challenge, I carefully raced across the bridge, over the jagged rocks, and plopped down safely on the other side.
Wiping the sweat from my eyes I glanced up, searching for the unusual building, but it wasn’t there. No matter how hard I looked, how intently I strained my eyes, the building would not appear. I poked the ground, prodded the sky, even sniffed to catch a hint of its smell, but nowhere could I find it. Frustration built up inside of me and I knew that no matter what its cost, I would have to find that building.
I jogged along, impatient now, but forever curious. I bounded with great leaps, the cat chasing the mouse that chased the cheese. After an hour my leg muscles strained with exhaustion. I began to slow, and just when I thought I would collapse, the building blinked into existence no more than two feet in front of me. I jumped backwards, sure that it hadn’t been there a second ago, but recovered to reach out and grab the knob of the triangular door in front of me.
I yanked it open, pulling my arms, as the door hadn’t been oiled in a while. Peering in, I could see the room was pitch black, but I had come this far and nothing was going to stop me from going on. I hesitantly stepped forward entering the dark room. Nothing happened. Although I couldn’t see my own hand in front of my face I trudged on, 13 or perhaps 14 paces. I stopped, a ripple of trepidation running down my spine. Something was not right. I could feel it. The place breathed evil and just as I was getting ready to turn around and scramble for the door, luminous red eyes broke the darkness. They stared, pupils’ large, blood spilling out of the corners like old-maiden tears. They seemed to glare at me from every angle, multiplying by the minute. Each eye seemed congruent to the others and they all peered at me in that evil way where you just know you can not escape. The look which tells you that you’re forever trapped and cooperating won’t help one bit. You’ll still spend centuries in endless torture and as I stood frozen in my shoes, eyes dilated with fear I couldn’t help but think that those cold merciless eyes were going to be the last thing I ever saw. And so I did what any proper person would do. I fainted.
Now truthfully, for I never lie, I do not know what happened. After I fainted I woke in a valley, which I finally figured out after several minutes was right behind my own house. Was it a dream? Unless lucid, I think not. It seemed too real, too vivid. Every touch, smell, taste, sight seemed plausible. Yet I have no other explanation and until I discover the answer my nightmares will be concurrent, rising one after another every night for the rest of my life. I will search for the answer. I will dive through underwater seaweed, dig through underground caves, fly in every airplane. I will read every book, skim every website, and buy every magazine that may hold a clue. I will do anything to find out the meaning up until the day I die. And even then, while slumbering in my continuous sleep, my soul will rise and look down upon my face, searching every crevice of my decaying body, hoping to satisfy its curious edge before it slips underneath the cold soil entering the underworld.
- by tinaateurface |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 12/23/2008 |
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- Title: Blood of Old-Maiden Tears
- Artist: tinaateurface
- Description: This is a narrative I wrote for geometry in 9th grade. The task was to use a list of "math terms" in a story, so if some words seem odd or unfitting this is probably why. I'd like feedback about everything from my writing style, to the plot line. Please keep in mind that this is an unedited school assignment!
- Date: 12/23/2008
- Tags: blood oldmaiden tears
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Comments (2 Comments)
- tinaateurface - 12/29/2008
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Thank you : ]
Considering I'm currently in 10th grade, it wasn't too long ago. - Report As Spam
- cheekydeeks - 12/28/2008
- Hard for me to believe a 9th grader wrote this---it's very good. Thanks for explaining why the math terms--that did have me wondering. A very impressive five out of five.
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