Short Story: I am Eden

OK, so I've been away for a little while, but I have a valid reason for it -- I was busy doing this? And by "this" I mean I was writing my English essay, which, lucky for me, just so happened to be a short story with my choice of genre and story plot. It's a tad long, so I don't blame you if you don't read all of it (I would kill you, jokes. I would seriously injure you instead :D ). I think there a few typos, I'm just too lazy to fix them up. But you have give it the correct spelling where it's due ;)

I am Eden

The war never ends. For two thousand years it has been going on and on, never ceasing, and one side never having an advantage over the other. For the children who had been born during those two thousand years never saw a morning, never saw a break in the perpetual storm that rages over the Earth, curtsy of the Goörns, one of the races who came flying out of the void and onto the Earth where they searched for two thousand years and two thousand nights in a vain attempt to locate the child of Eden, the last of the Tooravar race . . .

   The Humans searched too . . . they all did. It was a race against time, the two sides battling with each other for a trace of the one who will bring light to a world of eternal darkness and evil, the one who will end everything, and finally bring peace to the land.

My name is Eden.

And I am the keeper of Light . . . the last of the Tooravar . . .

It all began when the Humans found the gate. They had heard of a place where storms were brewing endlessly in the centre of Africa and they swarmed there like vultures, all curious to get a glimpse of the large stone gate that sat silently in the middle of the storm. Everyone had their ideas of what had brought it to be there, some had said aliens and magic whereas others thought that the gate was of some biblical meaning.

   Of course they couldn’t help themselves and after years of strain they finally managed to open the gate, not wide enough so that it was fully open—or fully closed—but it was enough for the races to come flying out of the void . . . and onto the Earth.

   The first to come were the Tooravar. A distinguished race, they had been stolen from a world filled with peace and serenity, where their bald, naked skin and large devil-like wings fit into the environment. But not here, here on Earth they were brought to a land of sand and heat and they were never allowed to leave, the Humans had wanted to live alongside the new race in their own world, and when one of the Tooravar had enough they lashed out.

   That was how the war started. The Humans were fast to grab their weapons of mass destruction and hunted down the Tooravar until they were reduced to nothing but dust on the hot tar roads. Some mourned the death of a new creation; others cheered and celebrated victory. They didn’t pay thought to the gate in the desert.

   They didn’t notice the Goörns until it was all too late.

   The other race had come in a flurry, they were much stronger than the Tooravar had been and bore razor sharp claws and teeth, and magic that oversized the Humans. They had seen the fall of the race before them and decided that the only way to survive on Earth was to fight. And so they fought, they fought and never stopped.

   It was halfway through the war when the Humans realised that the only way to seal the Goörn’s power and ultimately defeat them would be to close the gate, it took them the other half of the war to realise that in order to close the gate they needed someone of Tooravar blood.

And that's where I come in.

I don't know if the other two races know of my existence, I’ve been hiding from them for the last millennium whilst I worked silently and alone so I can make my way to Africa, where home stood waiting. I don't want anything no object or possession, I don't care whether the Goörns or the Humans win, all I care about is getting back to my home land, the land of mountains and blue sky and peace, a peace which I have not laid eyes on for two thousand years.

   Right now I am sneaking across the plains. Although it is night the desert sand stings my feet where they were wounded from crossing the mountain ranges bare foot. I would have flown had I the wings, I was only a hundred years old when I was captured, just a child, the Humans had tortured me until I told them where my family were hiding out. They cut the wings from my back, and even when I had told them, locked me in eternal darkness.

   It was fair enough to say that I was the reason my race fell and the reason the war started. I killed them. I killed them all.

   I shake my head and banish all memories from my mind; right now I need to focus because this is where the hard part comes as the war is occurring right in the centre of Africa—and in the centre is where I need to go.

   Keeping silent I press myself against a boarding wall which they—the Humans or the Goörns, I do not know—have made stretching across the desert. Patrolling atop of the wall are soldiers, their shadows are cast against the sand and I crouch down, hoping that my own shadow would be mistaken for that of an animal. I slither across the ground on my belly until I arrive at the end of the wall and there is no coverage for at least two metres.

   Taking a deep breath, I push myself up from the ground and run.

   I don't think I’ve ever run so fast in my entire life, by the time I get to a crop of trees and engulf myself in their shadows I feel like my lungs are on fire. I turn my attention towards the wall, trying desperately to ignore the pain shooting through my legs, and see two Human soldiers pointing directly at me. The sand is still fluttering the air where I have disturbed it from my run. As the Humans come towards me I press myself into the side of a tree and try to stop my heavy panting.

   A figure passes silently ahead of me and my inside squirm as they recognise the blood of the ones who killed my family and tears well up in my eyes. I duck my head and remind myself to remain silent, because if the Humans were to find me I know that they would force me to close the gate, and then I’d never be able to get back home.

   Suddenly, there is a rustling of leaves directly above me and Human shines a flashing light to the source of the noise. I catch a glimpse of his fearsome face just before something black launches itself at him and claws the Human’s throat out in one swift movement. Within seconds the Goörns are swarming into the area, and the sound of whizzing bullets and horrid cries fill the air. I close my eyes and pray that they haven’t seen me. The Goörns want basically the same thing as the humans—they want the gate fully open so that their powers increase, but if I do this I must connect to only one world and one world alone. Either way, if I get captured I lose.

   And if I die the war will never end.

   I wait until the screaming dies down before I take my chance. I know now that the gate is somewhere nearby otherwise the Humans wouldn’t have chosen this area as their base, and the Goörns would not have attacks it.

   I am creeping amongst the shadows, keeping my distance from the fighting, when I hear the click of a gun and before I can react, something burning hot sinks into my left arm and I fall back immediately and holler in pain, darkness clouding my sight.

   Almost suddenly there is a noise from above me and I try to crawl away but something grabs my ankles and I am dragged across the ground, I dig my fingers into the sand but the hands go free and then I am splattered by blood. The darkness eventually disappears and I am aware that standing above me are several Goörns, they all cock their heads in union and stare at me with odd curiosity.

   For a moment the Earth stands still . . .

   . . . and then the Goörns spring into action, they hiss to each other words which are not clear to me and bring me to my feet, one of them drapes their cloak over my body so that it is concealing us both and I quickly lash out, trying to slam my fists against the side of its head but it blocks my attacks and points to the wound on my arm. I stare into its pale eyes and nod.

   I understand.

   Quickly, the pair of us race away from the battle scene sticking close to the shadows, and I briefly wonder if the Goörn knows who I am, and, if it does, how long would the hospitality last until I’m caught in chains, a single light blaring into my face and they are forcing me to do and tell them things I do not want to do or tell.

   I am thinking of this when a shadow passes overhead and the Goörn falls from my side and the cloak is pulled from my head. I glance towards the sky and see a shooter plane flying over, for a second there is hope that they haven’t seen me but a spotlight shines to where I am crouched and my fears are confirmed. My heart slams against my chest and I will myself to move but I don’t—it is as if I am glued to the spot by the light.

    Suddenly there is something cold on my arm and I glance down to see the Goörn who helped me, a thin thread of life still in it as if wallowed in a pool of its blood. For a moment I am reminded of my father as I watched him die. The Goörn suddenly pulls me close and whispers to me, in my very own language: “Run.”

   I don’t stop; I don’t hesitate to ask the Goörn questions, I don’t try to discover who he is and why he is choosing to help me. Instead I spring from the sand and I follow his orders and my father’s last words to me . . .

   And I run.

So what did you think? If you found anything that, in your eyes, should probably be fixed up or makes absolutely no sense please do tell me (because, you know, it is an English essay, and A+ look good).

Cheerio,

Be.

The Unnamed Short Story

This is a Short Story which I wrote because the posts I wanted to write failed and I realised that if you ever read them there might be a freak accident where a million people commited suicide (I wish that many people read my blog!). So this is the story, purely random and I haven't edited it because I was too lazy so enjoy!

The weather was perfect for fishing. I realised that as soon as I accidently dropped my Grandfather’s tackle box on my toe, kicked it at the wall and saw all the arrangements of colourful lures, hooks and sinkers. I’ve never been the type to go looking for my own food, I’m always expecting mother to come up to me and feed me like a rubbish bin, but that day the city girl in me ran away and a brainier girl replaced her.
As I fumbled around house, lit only by the small windows, since the electricity had gone out, I dropped the photo albums and stuffed toys and threw out all the expensive clothes in my suitcase and instead tipped the contents of the fishing box into the bag, took some knives from the kitchen, collected my father’s boots and mosquito spray and threw in the ugly but comfy and rain-proof clothes.
I gave the 10-person tent a longing look before I headed for the back door. It was nearly dusk, the rains had been and I was sure the bush, which would soon be my home, was filled with blood thirsty leeches and dangerous snakes. But I knew that it would be too conspicuous so I said goodbye to the tent, beds and photographs with a tear in my eye.
Before I closed the door my dog, Tofu, came running out and gave me the puppy dog look, the look which said, “Please take me, don’t leave me here in the darkness, please,” but I gave him a kiss on the nose and left through the window so that back door remained locked. I knew that it would be the last time I would see him, and he knew that too.
I had to force myself to stop crying, it was useless tears, and they gave you a cold and left you feeling empty afterwards. And I bawl like a baby, if I were to risk weeping it would be like risking bringing Tofu or the tent. I felt bad for not putting him outside so he could run free, avoid the heartless shadows and the guns which only screamed one thing. Death.
I had to remind myself that I wasn’t a bad person; I was doing this on orders―my mothers. She told me to look out for myself, that I was the most important thing now and if they got me it would be as if God gave the Devil the reins of Power.
So I pressed on, I disappeared into the forest, not stopping until the moon rose to the top of the sky and my legs couldn’t take it anymore. I climbed a tree and curled into a right ball up there, freezing in the cold air, scared and on the verge of a breakdown.
But I still had hope, that when the sun rose tomorrow I would be alright, everything would. If the sun rose tomorrow that is.
And I knew it wouldn’t. And I knew that everything wasn’t going to be alright.

--Be

thE bAbYlONiAN ChRONiClES

So how are you all feeling? Good? Three questions for you, if you had to be any animal, plant/tree and mythological creature which ones? Wolf, Poison Ivy and a Dragon for me.
It seems like every single time I post on my blog these days it’s when it’s raining, so basically I always say ‘dear readers, it’s raining here at the moment’ and then I delve into something random --- there was a Possum in my fridge!

(Sorry, I forgot to get the photos from the camera, but I'll later edit this and place it on)

We all thought that it was a rat that was running around our walls, but it turns out it was a possum! But poor Pussy (which was what my mum called him, since she can’t say ‘possum’) died the other day, I wonder if it was because he ate the rat poison in the roof. That sucks. It’s strange how when you get a possum in your roof your like aww, and when you have a rat your like ‘stupid thing crawling around in mei roof’ or is that just me? R.I.P to Pussy!!!!

I’m also proud to say that me and my friend, Jane, have created a blog devoted to a story we’re writing together. The writing may be rubbish to your opinions but we’re just doing it for fun, not for show, although it wouldn’t bother us if anybody read it.
Anyway, the story’s about two girls, best-friends and cousins, named Vairety and Ash who find themselves being chased by a group of dark-dressed men. They find this necklace and when they both touch it they’re magically teleported to a different world where mythological creatures exist and humans don't. They meet a friendly dragon named Xi and go on an adventure to find out a way to get them back home. On their adventure they find out that they can hold powers from the elements Fire and Air (Ash=Fire, Vairety=Air) and that there are two men who are causing havoc and they possess the powers from the elements Water and Earth.
That’s basically the summary which I’ve constructed, and if you’ve found it interesting click this like here >The Babylonian Chronicles<. But be warned, it might not have anything on it, depending on when you read this blog and click the link, but if you return later I promise there would be some interesting reading material placed ;)

Now I’ve written a blog post! Yippee yay!! I’m going to reward myself with Sims where I’ve created a family filled with Aliens, Vampires and Vampire Slayers and evil Aliens :D
Hope you have a good week/weekend, and enjoy all that chocolate cake you’ll be eating, possible, maybe, one day. . .

--βe

Draft of 'Sedona'

Just got back from work with my eyes all sore and tired and with my brain still sore from working at the markets I couldn’t really come up with anything to write about that won't make your brains sore either.

So, I decided to post a draft of the book I’m currently writing: ‘Sedona’. The book is about a girl named Mira who’s dad is a Mad Scientist. And then, one night, some black-dressed men come in looking for him and try to get her to unlock his new invention: a Time Machine—which he had created so he could travel back in time to be with his dead wife (Mira’s mother) again. She ends up travelling over 3 million years forward into time and finds herself in a weird place filled with magic, demons and other weird creatures. This is an extract from Chapter 4, after she’s already travelled into time. I haven’t edited it yet, so bear with me.

Still soaking wet in my blue pyjamas with little ducks on them, I marched through the dense forest and as far away from the river as I could get.
I knew I should have stayed there at the ‘crash’ site, but I couldn’t help it. I was now 3 million years forward in time, and who can be guilty of wanting to explore?
The sun had already started rising when I finally stopped walking and sat down to rest by a large hollow log. My hair had already dried into a tangled, black mess and but my pyjamas were still damp and scattered with dirt and tiny leaves.
After checking that there was no spiders I brushed away the leaf litter and lied down by the log and tried to get to sleep. I had just rested my eyes and felt like I was about to go to sleep when I heard some commotion and hushed voices not far from where I lay and sat bolt right and glanced around anxiously.
I paused for a moment before I quickly stood and grabbed the lever, which I had been carrying all this time, and held it up as a weapon, although if it was some tough animal I was sure I had no means of protecting myself with some metal stick with a knob at the end.
I heard another array of hushed voices followed by a shout—not a war cry or a shout of pain, but something like realisation or, maybe, fear.
I was about to open my mouth and shout, ‘hello?’ like the people in books always do when I realised that I better keep my mouth shut, especially if these people mean harm.
For a brief moment I thought of mutants—or cannibals who used to be the real humans—until the forest took over. It was still dark out, the sun was just a blur over the canopy of trees, so maybe they were vampires—or werewolves. Maybe they’d turn me into their own kind. That would be pretty cool, but then again vampires and werewolves aren’t exactly like they are in all those books and movies.
I was too caught up in my hysterical thoughts (you know how some people can’t stop talking when their nervous—I can’t stop thinking when I am) to notice that something was creeping up behind me until it hit me—literally.
I let out a scream as I felt the tiny arms go over my throat and it’s legs over my chest. I tried to kick the creature off but already all of it’s tiny friends were dashing out of the bushes, holding tiny spears in their hands and bows and arrows in the other.
“Oh, crud, man,” I muttered.
The creatures were about knee high, some even smaller. They had dark, chocolate coloured skin and masks which covered their faces. Pretty much all of the masks were the same: they had an ornamented of feathers surrounding them and giant, eyes painted onto the wood with a big, grinning mouth set underneath them.
One of the scary, tiny creatures even chucked it’s 30cm ruler-sized spear at me, which narrowly went passed my head and probably (hopefully) hit the creature on me because it started yelling at the thrower in some weird language which seemed to mostly be made up of different pitched screams.
The thrower screamed back, causing the one on my back to jump off me and start attacking it’s team mate. Once it was off me I turned and started to run but two creatures jumped onto my legs and pulled my down onto the dirty forest floor.
Acting swiftly I turned the lever on them and hit one right in the stomach. I heard a crack and the creature stumbled backwards before falling to the ground and dropping it’s ruler/spear.
This seemed to cause all of the creatures to stop what they were doing (which seemed to mostly occur of them fighting each other) and screamed before they all leapt onto me at the same time.
I managed to let out my own scream while I was being crushed by their tiny little bodies. I tried to swing my weapon at one of them but another knocked it out of my hand before grabbing hold of my hand and bitting down on it.
I let out a shout of pain as all the others started following this ones tactic and dropped their spears and began sinking their teeth into me.
After a while of them bitting me my body was beginning to feel numb and I couldn’t help but think, this is it. This is how I’m going to die—being eaten alive by these weird little creatures. I wonder what your suppose to think about when your about to die?
But suddenly the creatures were starting to leap off me and recollect their spears to throw at something in the distance.
I saw a blaze of bright like and tried to sit up to see what it was until one of their spears made contact—into my left arm—and unlike their bitting these spears actually hurt, like getting stabbed by a knife hurt.
I glanced down at my arm which had blood pouring out of it like a tiny water fall and all down my forearm. “Oh my. . .” I thought, totally ignoring whatever that bright light was and concentrating on my flaming wound.
I had just started feeling an even bigger panic arise in me when one of the stupid, tiny creatures raced over and ripped to spear out of my arm to throw at their new victim.
“Ow!” I screamed, and angrily punched the creature with such force that it went soaring a few metres away where it crashed into the log which I had once been resting by.
Some of the creatures ran over to me and began trying to bite me again but I was quickly on my feet and kicked them away and into the log as well.
And to tell you—kicking these creatures felt good, so I ignored whoever their new victim was, their flying spears and my wound and began going through the crowd, angrily kicking them all out of the way. Some tried to get onto me once more but failed under my good kicking force (maybe I should have tried out for the soccer team after all) and soon most of the creatures, who hadn’t been kicked, turned tail and ran back into the bush, screaming the whole time.
Not long after I knelt by the ground, panting and found my lever. It was like my new best-friend or something. I put one hand to my wound and it came away stained with almost black blood.
Whoa, I remember thinking before my vision became blurred. I heard some more voices close to me but up high. I realised that it might have been those creatures again and tried to get up but that just caused me to fall onto my back. I was panting hard, I could even feel sweat pouring off of me.
Soon my eyes shut and all I saw was darkness. And then, nothing at all.
It’s hard to remember what you’re thinking when you’ve fainted. I’ve never fainted before then but my brain was working so over time to fix my wound that I didn’t even bother to come to terms that I was passing out.
You know what I mean? No. Okay, I’ll just shut up and continue with the story.

Since this was a whole chapter I had to get rid of a lot of paragraphs but please tell me what you think, and defiantly the constructive criticism because I need so much of that to know how to make my stories better.

Thanks

-βe

.A F E I L D, W I T H S U N F L O W E R S.

This is a story I had to write in English. It's suppose to be a 'horror' or whatever sort of story and the teacher thought mine was pretty cool so I thought I'd post it on here.
Oh! And if you like reading story blogs you have to check out my friend's blog:

wind Wishing

Finger's crossed the link worked. Anyway, check out the blog and here is the English story I wrote:

An owl shrieked in the distance, I could hear the clock strike midnight. But I wasn't afraid - well, that was what I kept telling myself as I crept down the gloomy street, making sure I stayed in the pool of light that each street lamp cast.
I knew I shouldn't look back - but I couldn't help it. I turned my head aand glanced over my shoulder and...
And I became instantly blinded by a bright, white light.
Squinting I rubbed my eyes and peered to see beyond the source of light to find a short, plump man weilding a baton and toothy grin.
Oh no. He was exactly what I had not hoped to see - especially tonight.
With a thudding heart I spun around and dashed towards the fence which surrounded the town.
I managed to clear the fence in a single bound, merely grazing my hands on it's sharp barbed wire. But that wouldn't stop me.
Keeping an iron grip on the package I ran, panting and freaked out, through the high field filled with innocent, watching sunflowers. I could hear the man behind me in hot pursuit, all the while he was yelling at me to 'stop!'
But soon the man's vouice was nothing but an echo in the distance.
With shaking hands I pulled the package from my coat and looked around for a safe place to rest.
Keeping low I managed to find a small cottage house smack bang in the middle of the sunflower feild. The cottage was badly rusted with broken windows, knocked down doors and a tattered roof. Even the walls looked like they were made of cardboard.
But oh well. It was better than making my way down the street, knowing I cant look back, but doing so anyway.
Silently I crept over to the house and opened the creaking door, hoping somone else hadn't beaten me to the little disguised sanctuary. But instead of finding a group of homless people (or anything worse), like I had expected, I came to see only darkness.
Creeping around I managed to find an overturned table and hid under it. I listened for a while - until I was sure I was alone - before I carefully unwrapped the package and gripped the glowing antidote close to my heart.
And, with one final prayer, I pressed the tiny vile to my lips and drank.

So. . . Do you like it? I'm putting this straight to my 'Stories' page, in case you wanted to know. Oh, and check out the blog mentioned above. It's a great blog.

By for now, not forever:

--Be