I am alive!
Mar. 10th, 2004 02:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fairyruneSeeing as how I haven't really updated this thing in over a month, I figured I'd let y'all know I'm still breathing. School's been super nuts lately, but things have finally started to calm down. We had a deaf lady come into my sign language class last night, and she said I was very good. My online fantasy course is AWESOME. Our midterm was roleplaying as characters from The Neverending Story. I got to be the Childlike Empress. :) It was great! Behind the following cuts are the story I wrote for my Fiction class, which will be revised and made much better, and the crazy assignments I've been getting for my Writing Therapy course.
Marie walked down 7th Ave., listening to the “click click click” of her high heel black vinyl boots on the wet pavement. Her dark, chin length hair was shiny in the light of the street lamps. Her tailored leather trench coat was buttoned shut against the slight chill in the air. Blue eyes darting back and forth, watching for signs of danger were the only outward signs of her inner alertness. It was a clear night, and the moon was not quite full. It was three AM, and the streets were empty.
Marie saw a man stagger around the corner, obviously drunk. He was a rather large, somewhat scruffy looking man, wearing blue jeans and a flannel shirt. Marie thought he probably would have been more attractive, had he not been up all night in a bar, drinking and carousing with his buddies. She planned on ignoring him and continuing on her way. This was a very bad night to bother her, and she tried to make that obvious through her body language and expression.
Drunk people don’t pick up on these things very well.
“Hey baby,” he said in a voice gruff from too much alcohol and not enough sleep. “Your real pretty. Hows about you an’ me go back to my place, an’ have a real good time.” The only word Marie could think of to describe what the man was doing was “leering.”
“Leave me alone.”
“Awwww…what’s the matter, hot stuff? Ain’t I your type?” He moved closer to Marie, and pressed his body against hers. He sounded mad.
“I said leave me alone!” Marie quickly stepped away from the man. She was about to get very angry.
“You’re gonna come with me, bitch, whether you like it or not.” With that, the man tried to grab Marie around the waist.
In a flash, Marie reversed the situation, ending with the man’s arms pinned, one to his side, and one behind his back. Her fangs glinted in the light of the streetlamp, dangerously close to his jugular.
****
In order to understand what happened next, some knowledge of Marie’s past is necessary.
She was born in 15th century England, the daughter of a duke in the area of Salisbury Plain. Her mother was much younger than her father, and his third wife. The first two had died in childbirth. The duke had thirteen children. Marie was the last.
Her mother caught pneumonia when Marie was barely a year old, and died. The duke passed away a little over a year later, leaving Marie an orphan to be raised by a nurse.
Her oldest brother became duke, and Marie lived in the castle for sixteen years. She was the black sheep of the family, not caring for politics at all. She was a thoughtful, quiet child, with a wild imagination. She much preferred to be alone with her thoughts than to discuss the latest fashions and faux pas with the ladies of the court. This made her somewhat of an outcast, and led her to a very…interesting life.
She was walking in the countryside one summer evening, alone. She was fully aware of the dangers, but preferred solitude to the company of a bodyguard.
“Halt!” The voice had come from a line of trees to Marie’s right. “Take one step further, and you shall be shot.” An arrow flew inches in front of Marie, burying its point in the ground.
She stood as still as stone, not daring to even glance to her right to see who had shot the arrow. She had been under the impression that her brother had rid these woods of bandits. “I guess he missed a few,” she thought.
Someone came up behind Marie, and knocked her on the back of her head. She lost consciousness.
When she awoke, Marie was lying on a bed, in a room she did not recognize. There was a fire in the fireplace on the left hand wall, and the walls were paneled in dark wood. The bed was large, and soft, and clean. She couldn’t see much other furnishing in the room, other than a large armchair in front of the fireplace. Someone was sitting in it.
“Hello?”
“Oh. So you’re finally awake.” A man’s voice spoke from the armchair. “I’ve been waiting all night.” The man stood up.
He was of average height, and thin. His hair was long and golden blonde, and he was dressed in fine clothes. He held a pipe in his left hand.
“Hello, Marie. My name is Nicholas. I’m very pleased to finally meet you.”
“How did you know my name? Why have you brought me here? You can’t hold me prisoner like this!”
“Such an inquisitive girl! I shall answer your questions in order. I know your name because I’ve been observing you for the better part of a year. I’ve brought you here because I want you to be my consort. You’re very beautiful, you know. Finally, you aren’t my prisoner. Fairly soon, you will want to stay with me.”
As Nicholas spoke, he had been approaching the bed on which Marie was now sitting. As he finished his speech, he sat down beside her and caressed the back of her head. Although Marie was frightened and distrustful of this strange man, the gesture was surprisingly warm and genuine. It felt…nice.
“You’re even more beautiful close up. Your eyes reveal your intelligence, you know. I like that in a woman. Now, hold still. This will only hurt for a moment.”
With that, the vampire Nicholas sank his teeth into Marie’s neck. The sting lasted only for a second, and then the wonderful feeling of the release of endorphins swept over Marie. She suddenly felt that she could, and would, love this handsome stranger. Thoughts of escape and home immediately left her mind as Nicholas pulled away from her neck and embraced her. There was no turning back.
After a night of…private activities, Nicholas explained to Marie that she would soon notice her fangs growing. Soon after, she would feel the need to feed.
He was right. Within a week, Marie had a set of ivory white, needle sharp fangs. She was craving blood.
Nicholas took her to a neighboring village one night to hunt. Her first victim was a young man. They had snuck into his small house in the dark, and Marie attacked him in his sleep. When he struggled, she found that she had become much stronger, and was able to hold him down. As soon as she sank her fangs into the tender flesh of his neck, he went limp. Marie sucked him dry. Her blood lust was satisfied. For now.
Nicholas found his own prey, and they returned home. Marie had many questions.
“Why didn’t that young man turn into a vampire like I did?”
“There is a ceremony that must be performed before a sireing is attempted. I shall teach it to you some day.”
Nicholas went on to explain, “Certain fluids are released during sireing to cause the victim to become a vampire. They also trigger the good feeling you felt when I bit you, so you wouldn’t feel much pain. Those fluids are not present during a normal feeding. However, the victim does become paralyzed, so you can eat without having to fight your food every step of the way.”
Marie and Nicholas lived happily together for many years. Whenever people would start to avoid an area because of them, they would move on to someplace completely different. They traveled the world together over the centuries. Their love for each other was unparalleled.
Sometime in the nineteenth century, Nicholas was stalked and killed by a vampire hunter. Marie managed to escape unharmed, but the loss of her only love drove her mad for quite a long time. Marie traveled alone after that; solitude was once again her favored companion.
****
In late twentieth century North America, Marie’s existence changed. She had always thought of herself as a soulless creature. She was wrong.
The discovery came one night in a farmhouse in the middle of no place in particular. The farmer and his wife were asleep, their little girl was dreaming in the next room, and Marie wanted blood. She went after the wife first. Her screams woke the little girl, who came running into the room to see what was the matter.
She was no more than five years old, holding a teddy bear under her arm. Wearing a little pink, frilly nightgown, the girl was the absolute picture of innocence.
“Please don’t hurt my mommy. She’s the only Mommy I’ve got!” Tears were streaming down the little girls face.
Marie felt something inside her stir. Something she had not felt for a very long time. In her mind, she saw two paths ahead of her. One path lead to sin and destruction, the other led to salvation. She knew this was the moment when she had to choose.
She heard Nicholas’s voice, “My darling Marie. We caused so much hurt in our time. You have the ability to repay our debts. Choose the path of good. Help people. I love you. I miss you…”
Snapping back to reality, Marie looked into the eyes of the little girl, begging for her mother’s life. She dropped the mother, and ran from the house.
New York City is a good place for a vampire to blend in with the crowd…
*****
Marie whispered in the drunken man’s ear, “I suggest that the next time you get drunk and try to rape a woman, you think about how you came this close,” she scraped her fangs along his neck, “to dying the last time you made that mistake.”
She threw him to the ground. The crotch of his pants was wet, and his eyes were wide with fear. He was whimpering like a puppy that wakes up alone in the kitchen in the middle of the night. Marie put one boot on his chest, none too gently.
“I’ll be watching you…”
I would like you to set aside about an hour for this exercise. Take 20-30
minutes, to draw yesterday with your left , or non-dominant, hand. As you
do this, notice the choices you are making, the thoughts and images and
memories that flit through your mind, and your feelings around what you are
drawing.
When you have finished, write for as long as it takes, fast, about your
drawing (right hand is fine).
Then look back at your drawing and what you have written, and reflect. You
may observe what you have left out, what you have included, things that
surprise and interest you. You may want to ask the question : What did this
exercise show me about myself, and about how I live my life?
This project also takes about an hour - here it is :
1. With your left hand, draw a tree. Just let the image on to the page, noticing what you feel as you draw, the thoughts that arrive and the choices you make. 10 mins
2. Write (you can use your right hand) about the drawing, and the tree, and about what you eperienced as you drew it (thoughts, feelings, choices). 10 mins
3. Imagine yourself as the tree, and write in the first person.(I am the tree) . 10 mins
4. Take one image from the tree, and write as it (I...) . 5 mins
5. And another (5mins)
6. And another (5 mins)
7. The tree has a message for you - write for 5 minutes.
8. Reflect on the whole experience for 10 minutes.
Now this exercise is in three parts -
1. Close your eyes and allow a bird to fly into your mind's
vision. I want you just to accept whatever bird it is that
first appears, and for you to notice it. When you are ready
open your eyes and write about this bird for 5 or 10 minutes.
2. Now this bird tells you that you have got it a bit wrong,
and proceeds to tell you what she/he is really like. Write.
3. This bird has a special message for you. Write.
Then reflect. Do you recognise this bird?
Does anyone else wonder how talking to birds in your head is supposed to help you be less crazy?
Marie walked down 7th Ave., listening to the “click click click” of her high heel black vinyl boots on the wet pavement. Her dark, chin length hair was shiny in the light of the street lamps. Her tailored leather trench coat was buttoned shut against the slight chill in the air. Blue eyes darting back and forth, watching for signs of danger were the only outward signs of her inner alertness. It was a clear night, and the moon was not quite full. It was three AM, and the streets were empty.
Marie saw a man stagger around the corner, obviously drunk. He was a rather large, somewhat scruffy looking man, wearing blue jeans and a flannel shirt. Marie thought he probably would have been more attractive, had he not been up all night in a bar, drinking and carousing with his buddies. She planned on ignoring him and continuing on her way. This was a very bad night to bother her, and she tried to make that obvious through her body language and expression.
Drunk people don’t pick up on these things very well.
“Hey baby,” he said in a voice gruff from too much alcohol and not enough sleep. “Your real pretty. Hows about you an’ me go back to my place, an’ have a real good time.” The only word Marie could think of to describe what the man was doing was “leering.”
“Leave me alone.”
“Awwww…what’s the matter, hot stuff? Ain’t I your type?” He moved closer to Marie, and pressed his body against hers. He sounded mad.
“I said leave me alone!” Marie quickly stepped away from the man. She was about to get very angry.
“You’re gonna come with me, bitch, whether you like it or not.” With that, the man tried to grab Marie around the waist.
In a flash, Marie reversed the situation, ending with the man’s arms pinned, one to his side, and one behind his back. Her fangs glinted in the light of the streetlamp, dangerously close to his jugular.
****
In order to understand what happened next, some knowledge of Marie’s past is necessary.
She was born in 15th century England, the daughter of a duke in the area of Salisbury Plain. Her mother was much younger than her father, and his third wife. The first two had died in childbirth. The duke had thirteen children. Marie was the last.
Her mother caught pneumonia when Marie was barely a year old, and died. The duke passed away a little over a year later, leaving Marie an orphan to be raised by a nurse.
Her oldest brother became duke, and Marie lived in the castle for sixteen years. She was the black sheep of the family, not caring for politics at all. She was a thoughtful, quiet child, with a wild imagination. She much preferred to be alone with her thoughts than to discuss the latest fashions and faux pas with the ladies of the court. This made her somewhat of an outcast, and led her to a very…interesting life.
She was walking in the countryside one summer evening, alone. She was fully aware of the dangers, but preferred solitude to the company of a bodyguard.
“Halt!” The voice had come from a line of trees to Marie’s right. “Take one step further, and you shall be shot.” An arrow flew inches in front of Marie, burying its point in the ground.
She stood as still as stone, not daring to even glance to her right to see who had shot the arrow. She had been under the impression that her brother had rid these woods of bandits. “I guess he missed a few,” she thought.
Someone came up behind Marie, and knocked her on the back of her head. She lost consciousness.
When she awoke, Marie was lying on a bed, in a room she did not recognize. There was a fire in the fireplace on the left hand wall, and the walls were paneled in dark wood. The bed was large, and soft, and clean. She couldn’t see much other furnishing in the room, other than a large armchair in front of the fireplace. Someone was sitting in it.
“Hello?”
“Oh. So you’re finally awake.” A man’s voice spoke from the armchair. “I’ve been waiting all night.” The man stood up.
He was of average height, and thin. His hair was long and golden blonde, and he was dressed in fine clothes. He held a pipe in his left hand.
“Hello, Marie. My name is Nicholas. I’m very pleased to finally meet you.”
“How did you know my name? Why have you brought me here? You can’t hold me prisoner like this!”
“Such an inquisitive girl! I shall answer your questions in order. I know your name because I’ve been observing you for the better part of a year. I’ve brought you here because I want you to be my consort. You’re very beautiful, you know. Finally, you aren’t my prisoner. Fairly soon, you will want to stay with me.”
As Nicholas spoke, he had been approaching the bed on which Marie was now sitting. As he finished his speech, he sat down beside her and caressed the back of her head. Although Marie was frightened and distrustful of this strange man, the gesture was surprisingly warm and genuine. It felt…nice.
“You’re even more beautiful close up. Your eyes reveal your intelligence, you know. I like that in a woman. Now, hold still. This will only hurt for a moment.”
With that, the vampire Nicholas sank his teeth into Marie’s neck. The sting lasted only for a second, and then the wonderful feeling of the release of endorphins swept over Marie. She suddenly felt that she could, and would, love this handsome stranger. Thoughts of escape and home immediately left her mind as Nicholas pulled away from her neck and embraced her. There was no turning back.
After a night of…private activities, Nicholas explained to Marie that she would soon notice her fangs growing. Soon after, she would feel the need to feed.
He was right. Within a week, Marie had a set of ivory white, needle sharp fangs. She was craving blood.
Nicholas took her to a neighboring village one night to hunt. Her first victim was a young man. They had snuck into his small house in the dark, and Marie attacked him in his sleep. When he struggled, she found that she had become much stronger, and was able to hold him down. As soon as she sank her fangs into the tender flesh of his neck, he went limp. Marie sucked him dry. Her blood lust was satisfied. For now.
Nicholas found his own prey, and they returned home. Marie had many questions.
“Why didn’t that young man turn into a vampire like I did?”
“There is a ceremony that must be performed before a sireing is attempted. I shall teach it to you some day.”
Nicholas went on to explain, “Certain fluids are released during sireing to cause the victim to become a vampire. They also trigger the good feeling you felt when I bit you, so you wouldn’t feel much pain. Those fluids are not present during a normal feeding. However, the victim does become paralyzed, so you can eat without having to fight your food every step of the way.”
Marie and Nicholas lived happily together for many years. Whenever people would start to avoid an area because of them, they would move on to someplace completely different. They traveled the world together over the centuries. Their love for each other was unparalleled.
Sometime in the nineteenth century, Nicholas was stalked and killed by a vampire hunter. Marie managed to escape unharmed, but the loss of her only love drove her mad for quite a long time. Marie traveled alone after that; solitude was once again her favored companion.
****
In late twentieth century North America, Marie’s existence changed. She had always thought of herself as a soulless creature. She was wrong.
The discovery came one night in a farmhouse in the middle of no place in particular. The farmer and his wife were asleep, their little girl was dreaming in the next room, and Marie wanted blood. She went after the wife first. Her screams woke the little girl, who came running into the room to see what was the matter.
She was no more than five years old, holding a teddy bear under her arm. Wearing a little pink, frilly nightgown, the girl was the absolute picture of innocence.
“Please don’t hurt my mommy. She’s the only Mommy I’ve got!” Tears were streaming down the little girls face.
Marie felt something inside her stir. Something she had not felt for a very long time. In her mind, she saw two paths ahead of her. One path lead to sin and destruction, the other led to salvation. She knew this was the moment when she had to choose.
She heard Nicholas’s voice, “My darling Marie. We caused so much hurt in our time. You have the ability to repay our debts. Choose the path of good. Help people. I love you. I miss you…”
Snapping back to reality, Marie looked into the eyes of the little girl, begging for her mother’s life. She dropped the mother, and ran from the house.
New York City is a good place for a vampire to blend in with the crowd…
*****
Marie whispered in the drunken man’s ear, “I suggest that the next time you get drunk and try to rape a woman, you think about how you came this close,” she scraped her fangs along his neck, “to dying the last time you made that mistake.”
She threw him to the ground. The crotch of his pants was wet, and his eyes were wide with fear. He was whimpering like a puppy that wakes up alone in the kitchen in the middle of the night. Marie put one boot on his chest, none too gently.
“I’ll be watching you…”
I would like you to set aside about an hour for this exercise. Take 20-30
minutes, to draw yesterday with your left , or non-dominant, hand. As you
do this, notice the choices you are making, the thoughts and images and
memories that flit through your mind, and your feelings around what you are
drawing.
When you have finished, write for as long as it takes, fast, about your
drawing (right hand is fine).
Then look back at your drawing and what you have written, and reflect. You
may observe what you have left out, what you have included, things that
surprise and interest you. You may want to ask the question : What did this
exercise show me about myself, and about how I live my life?
This project also takes about an hour - here it is :
1. With your left hand, draw a tree. Just let the image on to the page, noticing what you feel as you draw, the thoughts that arrive and the choices you make. 10 mins
2. Write (you can use your right hand) about the drawing, and the tree, and about what you eperienced as you drew it (thoughts, feelings, choices). 10 mins
3. Imagine yourself as the tree, and write in the first person.(I am the tree) . 10 mins
4. Take one image from the tree, and write as it (I...) . 5 mins
5. And another (5mins)
6. And another (5 mins)
7. The tree has a message for you - write for 5 minutes.
8. Reflect on the whole experience for 10 minutes.
Now this exercise is in three parts -
1. Close your eyes and allow a bird to fly into your mind's
vision. I want you just to accept whatever bird it is that
first appears, and for you to notice it. When you are ready
open your eyes and write about this bird for 5 or 10 minutes.
2. Now this bird tells you that you have got it a bit wrong,
and proceeds to tell you what she/he is really like. Write.
3. This bird has a special message for you. Write.
Then reflect. Do you recognise this bird?
Does anyone else wonder how talking to birds in your head is supposed to help you be less crazy?
