Sunday, 13 January 2008
I wasn't originally ever going to post this, but I decided I'm going to more, so that I have it somewhere besides my hard-drive where I can access it. I really don't want to lose it and it's a relatively good story, so you may enjoy it or you may not. I'm only posting the first chapter, today, but as I work on it I'll post the chapters for you to read, if you so choose, but I'm not really posting it for that purpose, just to keep it somewhere else so I don't ever lose it.
~*~ Forest Cemetary ~*~
Alone and under the cover of the night's black sky, Iz sat indian style upon a sloping hill in the Forest Cemetary. Hanging above her, bathing the cemetary in pale light, was the full moon. The air was still - not a breath of wind stirred the trees. It was almost as if the world had ceased to exist, if only momentarily, but that was only on this little space of the planet; in this tiny cemetary. Around the cememtary life carried on. Cars sped down the highway surrounding the cemetary and city lights blazed flourescent orange; containing their own man-made, mechanical beauty that radiated like a tiny sun encased in a glass globe. To Iz, the cemetary had always been a world of its own, containing powers that most normal citizens of planet earth would rather leave untouched, but Iz was not of the sort to let things be. She was curious about the world around her, and she tested her limits on an almost daily basis. Tonight was no exception to the rule. She'd come to the cemetary with a new goal on her agenda - Speaking to the Dead.
It had honestly never crossed her mind, until today, that all the time she spent in the cemetary she could've been using to "communicate with the deceased." She'd gotten the idea from one of her co-workers at Bradley's Books. Linda, cashier and most obnoxious gossiper of the century, had blatantly and loudly voiced her opinion that Steve could talk to "spirits of the other world." Steve was the butt end of all the jokes at Bradley's Books. It wasn't because he dressed different. [Because in truth Iz dressed far more eccentric than Steve did.] It was because he was so reserved and distant from everyone he worked around. He was the most unsocial of all the employees at Bradley's Books, and he'd been set aside from everyone since day one when he came into work and never said a word; not even "hi" or "goodbye." Steve was somewhat of a silent obsession of Iz's. He intruiged her because he was part of what she called "The Unknown," and anything that was Unknown, was something to be studied and observed until it was no longer Unknown, but Identified. Steve was a scrawny guy of 5'9" with shaggy black hair that was always ruffled to look as if he'd just awoken. Other than that, Iz knew nothing about the mysterious Steve, co-worker at Bradley's Books. He came in at 10am, the same time as Iz, and left at 5pm when his shift ended. [Iz's shift also ended at 5pm.]
It was because of Steve and Linda's rather rude comment that she was now sitting at the highest point in the Forest Cemetary, overlooking the graves. I'm Queen of the corpses! she thought and giggled girlishly. She closed her eyes and invisioned dead, decaying, boney hands shooting out of the ground, clawing and digging at the stale earth in order to free the walking dead attached to the other end; still buried. The thought sent chills running down her arms, legs, back and breasts. If only I could really raise the dead; we'd have a party. And deep in her heart she wished the dead really could rise. They'd make better company than the people I'm forced to see on a daily basis, and following on the heels of that thought, I wonder if there wasn't some truth to Linda's accusation of Steve.
It was at that precise moment she heard something, the first something she'd heard all night, move among the trees and the graves. Her eyes shot open; wide and inquisitive. Something was out there; she could feel it. Its eyes were locked on her, but she couldn't locate it anywhere, and then she did. Down in the valley, formed between the hill she currently sat upon and the one across the way, a pair of peircing golden-fire eyes penetrated through the thick darkness like fog. They seemed to glow like orbs; almost as if they were emanating from a power within. It's probably just a cat. But she knew that wasn't right. How she knew that, she couldn't have explained, but she knew it. It was a gut feeling, and she'd trusted gut feelings all her life. For a moment she sat completely still; her breathing reduced to a sigh only slightly greater than the breath of the wind. In that moment she and whatever the thing was stared at each other, neither blinking nor moving. To Iz, what felt like an eternity, was no longer than a the tick of a clock counting down the seconds.
Yet it was in that moment that felt like forever that she sensed something; a oneness with the unknown, a sense that she and whatever was lurking out there in the darkness were made from the same mold. However, this feeling was fleeting, disappearing as quickly as it came, but leaving behind a strange after taste that was both familiar yet unfamiliar. It was bittersweet like strawberries with a copper undertone. It was delightful, yet forboding; something about that taste in her mouth gave her the creeps. Something about it was just wrong. The most aggravating part of it was that she couldn't put a finger on it. It entirely eluded her, but the memory of it would haunt the back of her mind where the useless and unimportant or temporary things were stored.
Then without so much as a second thought, the thing with the peircing yellow eyes vanished. Iz felt it leave. She didn't physically see it leave, but she knew in her mind that it had left. Left the cemetary, left this world - she didn't know - but it was gone, and so was she. She stretched her legs out in front of her and massaged them gently. She'd been sitting indian style in the cemetary since it had turned dark at 8pm. Four hours had been more than enough time to put her legs to sleep, let alone atrophy them into disuse. She hadn't even come close to accomplishing her goal, but she'd gotten something better than listening to dead souls whine - she just didn't know it yet. Her arms doing most of the work, Iz managed to get herself standing on legs that felt like electric jelly. Pins lightly pricked her all the way from her thighs to her toes. She wiggled her toes and that feeling of pins pricking her skin caused her eyes to water. Wiping her eyes she thought, I've been sitting here so long my ass is numb! And in truth it was. Yet despite her numb bum and prickly legs, she felt quite detached from herself, as if it wasn't really Iz Mendez feeling these things, but someone else - maybe someone dead and buried around her.
After a while she came back to some sense of reality and turned to face the grave she'd been sitting in front of. It wasn't a fancy grave like the way some of the rich were buried, but it served the deceased well. Iz knelt down in front of the half-oval shaped grave, her right hand gripping the top to hold herself steady.
"'Night Franky. I'll come back, 'kay?"
Iz smiled to herself; What was I expecting? A "goodnight" in return? Using her legs to push herself up, Iz rose to a standing position, jammed her hands into her jeans pockets, and walked away down the hill; away from the valley in the other direction towards the stone entrance of Forest Cemetary.