Misfits- a poem

Here’s to the misfits

Who are not afraid to share their opinion, and aren’t afraid to be shunned for it

Here’s to those who stand up for others

Who give their strength to those who need it

Here’s to those who are resilient

Who don’t give up no matter how many times they fall down

Here’s to those who are too shy to do any of those things

Who may be silent, but truly care

Battered Things

Many people have offices in their houses that go unused. You can tell if they are. There is no disorder, no use or worn edges. For you see, used offices aren’t necessarily pretty ones. They have things lying out, there will be coffee stains. There are always too many tabs open up on the computer, and another stack of things to do. To some these things are imperfections, problems to eradicate. But, they are proof. They show someone is working, trying, learning. There are things lying around, so someone doesn’t forget their train of thought. There are pencil marks from when they lost themselves in writing, and coffee stains from the hours they stayed up working. We should be proud of our proof. For, what is the point of having something? What is the point of keeping something perfect to never use it. Often the most battered places are the best ones.

War Bred (just for feedback)

Humans were such glorious complex beings. But, even they could not compete with his work. Dr. Larden stared at his creation. His triumph. Years of scientific research and sheer will had created this. Still, all of his time, his efforts would be worthless if he couldn't make the council see reason. Some said his ideas were inhumane, or disgusting. Perhaps they were right. But, this was war. He didn't have to be humane.

The door behind him opened with a hiss. The member of the council who walked into his lab radiated power, radiated presence. It was no wonder he was a leader. That aura alone was enough to make people follow him.

"Welcome Mr. Argentum to my main lab" the Dr. stated

The man's gaze burned into him. After a moment, the councilman spoke.

"I have no need for pleasantries or introductions doctor. Say your piece and keep in mind that the council will be determining your worth upon the words you speak."

"Thank you sir." The doctor said hurriedly

He led Mr. Argentum toward the cryo chambers at the other side of the lab. In each cylinder chamber, a human was suspended in liquid. Cables ran across their bodies and hooked into machines.

"Humans have been fascinated by genetics since they were originally discovered. Scientists have cloned, created, and perfected many species artificially in labs." The doctor stated

"Through my work, I have created a perfect weapon. I took human DNA and made us strong where we are weak. They have increased strength, speed, and stamina. I have developed their genes to where they are immune to all life-threatening diseases and common illnesses."

Mr. Argentum stared into the cryo chamber he was standing in front of. Inside a flawless girl was suspended. She looked utterly human. Perfectly normal. The best disguise.

Finally, he spoke, "What is to stop them from destroying us? If it is true they are stronger what will keep them from wiping us out?"

"Each altered human was created in my lab. I have programmed essential skills into their DNA. They will be able to walk, talk and write. What they lack are experiences. For you see it isn't our genetics that makes us what we are. It is our memories, our childhood. Everything they never had. And never will have. It is simply human nature to rebel. But, they won't have human nature. They are also disposable; it isn’t hard to make more. Think of it. No more casualties in warfare. None that matter. They are utterly replaceable."

"How young can you take then out of those chambers? How soon can we start training them?"

"When they have reached the start of puberty they can be removed. They develop at an accelerated rate and have a non-ending lifespan."

"How is that possible?"

"I feel no need to give you the answers to immortally Mr. Argentum."

"How soon will they be ready?

 The final question, Dr. Larden could see it in the councilman's eyes.

"They already are"

The Painter

Grace slid her hand over the doll’s face. She could feel the thread that held each button to the cloth. She was old for dolls, but it was one of the few things her mother gave her. She placed her doll down and pushed herself off the ground. With her hands out in front of her, she walked forward. One two three four... She counted each step in her head. Her mother let out a pained sigh; it sounded like exasperation and walked out of the room. Her heels clicked on the tile, and annoyance rang with each clack. Grace knew her mother was ashamed of her. Her older sisters were normal. She could feel the way her mother radiated pride when they were around. She didn't receive the same love.
As she bumped into the table, she felt around. There was the pungent smell of paint in the air stronger than it was on the rug. Her entire family consisted of successful artists. Her mother was always praising her sister's work. She had asked one day if she could paint as well, but her mother had just scoffed.

"You a blind girl, paint? You can't see let alone create a picture." Her mother had sputtered.

Grace felt around the table until she found a tube of paint. She gripped the cap and turned it until it came off. She squeezed all the paint out of the tube onto the table in anger. She could hear her mother's past words ringing in her ears. She felt the cool liquid on her fingers and made patterns and shapes, painting. The world was vast and confusing, but one thing was clear. She was Grace and no matter what her mother said she could do anything.

Raindrops

Liz stared out the window at the rain droplets running in little streams down the glass pane. Her breath left the glass fogged around her tiny hands. She liked to pretend the little water beads were racing, and whichever one made it to the bottom first was the winner. The little girl liked rainy days the best. Other children hated being cooped up indoors, but it brought Liz peace. She was content to stay inside and draw or practice playing her pianoforte.

She was dragged out of her blissful thoughts by her mother’s clear lovely voice calling out to her “Elizabeth, come we will be leaving soon.”

Her mother was standing in the doorway to the sitting room. She had on a pastel yellow dress with lace gracing the neckline and the bottom of the skirt. Liz knew they had to leave the country house to return to their manor in the city, but it didn’t mean she wanted to. She scowled as she thought of the stuffy city.  Her lessons there on how to act appropriately always left her feeling cramped and held in. Here even in the brevity of their stay, she felt the heaviness leave her. Here Liz felt happier, but they couldn’t stay forever. They could never stay forever.

“Elizabeth….” Her mother’s voice trilled as she walked out of the room and into the hall.

Liz stared at the traced a stripe of water that ran down the window one last time

.

“Good-bye,” she whispered as she walked away.

The city would be bearable as long as she knew there was still a place she could feel free. 

A World of my Own

Meredith twisted one of her honey gold locks around her finger. “Meredith,” as stern voice pulled her from her reverie.

She sighed “Yes, Mother” she replied

“Quit fiddling with your hair you will mess it up, and tie your shoelace”

Her father cut in chuckling “Miriam, let her be a growing girl. Let her enjoy childhood.”

Her mother replied sputtering “I don’t see how that should be an excuse for untied shoelaces….”

Meredith’s parents were too busy arguing to notice she had gotten up to wander into the wood. Draped in the cover of the leaves the child explored the kingdom of wild things. Her feet brushing blades of soft grass as she walked.

Her parent's voices faded into the distance Meredith plunged further into the wood. She saw light burst through the trees ahead and she strode into a meadow with a vast lake. Wildflowers slid against her waist as she walked forward. Meredith heard a laugh like the tinkling of glass behind her. She turned to see a girl in the water.

The girl had long flowing hair that matched the aquamarine scales that brushed her cheeks. She smiled and dove beneath the water of the lake. It was then that Meredith noticed the other creatures in the meadow. She saw a little rabbit with antlers hopping between the tall blooms. Little people with diamond wings flew into and out of the wood. The girl from the lake burst through the water and extended a hand for Meredith, inviting her to come. She wanted to, but a voice called to her.

“Meredith” “come child it’s time to go”

The young girl opened her eyes from sleep.

Meredith’s father smiled at her and whispered, "Where did your dreams lead you?

”

Quietly she replied, “A world of my own”

Photograph

It's the moments were happy I wish I could capture. I could have an image that would bring back the memories after the darkness sinks in. However, I don't. I can't go back in time to when love was beautiful and blooming. The past is stuck unmoving in my mind. As time goes on the memories fade, or are overcast by the shadows of now. One image is all I ask for, one Polaroid picture that could convey feelings. I need one picture that could convey all our hopes and desires. I need one picture that could capture the light giddiness we felt. I need one picture that could show our love in that instant. I need only one picture to remember how we fell into a deep and unyielding war that was the most wonderful thing in the world, but also the most heartbreaking. One last picture so I remember all that I was.

I Didn't Take You For a Fool: An April Fools short story

“OW!”

The shout came from the kitchen Laurie and her boyfriend Mark shared.  Laurie got up from the sofa in the living room and ran into the kitchen. There was blood everywhere. It splattered the counter and sink. Mark stood next to the counter trying to clean up the disaster of their kitchen with paper towels. His hand was bleeding out and making the mess worse.

“What happened?”  She exclaimed, rushing over to inspect his injury.

“I was cutting vegetables, and my hand got in the way.” Mark shrugged like it wasn’t worth worrying about.

“Here,” Laurie told mark, “let me help you”

She reached under the sink and got out the first aid kit. She opened it up and got out the roll of gauze. Laurie hated blood. She tried not to look at Mark’s hand while she wrapped it. When she finished, she wet a paper towel and started cleaning up the counter. The red liquid made her want to throw up.

“It’s blood, not nuclear waste.” Mark muttered, “Chill out”

Laurie ignored him and kept scrubbing. Was blood supposed to be this sticky? She said as much and Mark tried to keep from smiling, but failed. A grin broke out over his face. Now Laurie was getting annoyed.

“Would you stop smiling like a fool and help me?” She huffed, “I’m probably going to have to take you to get stitches, the blood isn’t coming off, and all you can do is stand there like the Cheshire Cat looking at Alice!”

Mark chuckled and wrapped his arms around her and whispered, “Wow, I didn’t know you would take this seriously. I really thought you would figure it out. I guess you’re an April fool.”

Well, now Laurie felt like one.

Finders Keepers: Chapter 3

                    Kate started struggling to get free, but her assailant had an iron grip. They pinned her arms against her body and dragged her into an alley. She couldn't see her attacker, but from the amount of brute strength she guessed they were male. Years of self-defense courses kicked in. She leaned forward and slammed her head back into her attacker's face. He grunted, but his grips on her didn’t lighten. Kate pounded her foot into his knee and then bit his arm. This time he yowled in pain and his grip on her arms slackened. She whirled and bashed her fist into his throat, then whipped her elbow across his face.

                    The man receded back, holding his nose that gushed blood. "You bitch," he growled, then lunged for her. He wrapped his hands around her neck and lifted her off the ground. She tried slamming her foot into his crotch, but he didn't loosen his grip. The reason he had the first time was because she had taken him by surprise with her persistence. He started squeezing her neck. For the first time, Kate got a good look at her attacker and gasped.

                    The monster that was choking her, he was indeed a monster. He had curled horns, like those of a ram wrapped around his head. His face was humanoid until his mouth. His lower jaw came over his upper jaw in a massive under bite. His bottom teeth that were pushed out over his upper lip were broken and jagged. Massive tattered bat wings dragged along the ground behind him. What she thought was blood dripping down his face was pure darkness that glittered in the fading street light. She stared at its eyes. There was nothing human in them, no mercy, and no good.

                    Pure pain and menace seeped off the monster and cloaked Kate and the ally. She could feel her will slipping. She forgot all about her need for air. She stopped fighting. She should let this creature kill her. She didn't deserve to live. This could end; this torment called life could end. Then freedom, she could be freed-.

                    The dark pull on Kate shattered and she was dropped. She lay on the ground, panting. Desperate to gain back the air that she had lost. A roar of pain thundered from the creature. She could make out flashes of light in the darkness. Then she swore she saw a familiar face in an instant as they stabbed a ray of light through the creature's chest.

                    Its scream of pain ripped through the night. Wherever it came from, it did not want to go back. The light webbed like cracks across its chest, and the dark liquid seeped from the light. She squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her hands over her ears.  Suddenly, the face she saw earlier was by her side unclamping her hands from her ears. Pain, all she felt was the pain.

"It's alright, your safe now. Just focus on breathing, it will dispel the poison" they whispered

                    Kate rolled over on her back. The familiar face leaned over her and looked worried. She knew this person, but her mind was too addled to make the connection. That face was the last thing she saw before oblivion took her away from the pain. Straight ahead into the blissful darkness

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                    Kate woke to morning light streaming in through a window, but not her window. She was in a puffy queen bed. She sat up; her jeans were folded on the chair next to the bed along with her combat boots and leather belt. She would have been embarrassed that anyone besides herself had undressed her -even halfway- if it wasn't for the memories of the night before that were rushing back.

                    There was a thug and he tried to rob her, and a stranger saved her. All of the sudden the memory shifted and the thug was a monster. Then as quick as it happened, the monster was a thug.

“The person who tried to rob you doesn't have horns,” a sweet voice at the back of her mind said. ‘’your imagination is running wild. You should forget it ever happened. ‘’

“Why should I forget when a robber tried to kill me?” she replied

                     Yes, she was losing her grip on normal. Normal people don’t have conversations with the voices in their head. Normal people don’t have voices in their head. But tried to kill her? That wasn't in the memory. The voice knew that too, and tried to convince her again almost hurriedly.

“No one tried to kill you. You’re hallucinating. Why would anyone want-?”

                    Kate decided to name the voice ignorance. "Tried to kill me" had unlocked a hidden memory. This time, the real ones flooded her mind and the voice at the back of her head went silent. She started shaking at the memory of the hands at her throat and the darkness sucking the life out of her.

                    Kate was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack when Lyra opened the door in the corner of the room and rushed to her bedside.

Her friend took her hands calming her, "it’s okay your safe."

Kate looked off into space, “what was that creature?"

"Don't worry its dead the demon is dead."

Late froze, "D-d-demon" she muttered under her breath

She said stronger, "demons aren't real"

"Well," Lyra said dryly, "they obviously are, unless you made hose bruises on your neck appear all by yourself"

Kate shook her head, “you’re delusional”

                    She pulled herself out of the bed and tried to stand up. Her legs were as wobbly as a baby calf, but she walked over to the chair with her clothes and pulled them on. Then Kate remembered she didn’t know where she was. She dodged Lyra who tried to stop her from leaving.

“I don’t want to hear it” she snapped

“Please, Kate. Let me explain-” Lyra begged

“No. you are out of your mind, or drunk.”

                    Kate looked out the window and saw the street in front of Lyra’s shop. She must be in her friend’s apartment above the shop. She walked over to the door and walked out of the bedroom, then into the hall. She needed to paint and get the horror of whatever happened last night out of her system.

“Kate listens to me.” Lyra said aggravated, “your life is in danger-”

Kate spun around. “Look. I don’t know either what you think happened, or what might have happened is somewhat true. I don’t care. I am not listening to gospel stories and conspiracy theories about how demons walk the earth. If there are demons, there is a God. I decided he wasn’t real the day my mother died. If he existed he would have saved her. He wouldn’t have forced me to be alone. You believe what you’re saying Lyra. As your friend, I recommend seeing a psychiatrist. Just because a jackass tried to rob me, and eventually kill me doesn’t mean he is a demon. Evil yes, but not demonic”

                    Lyra didn’t say anything back. Kate continued walking down the hall, past the kitchen and down the stairs that led to the shop. She was halfway out the door when Lyra finally said something.

“When you need my help, you’ll know where to find me.”

Finders Keepers: Chapter 2

Kate woke to the sound of a door opening and then slamming shut. Her best friend and roommate Erin leaned against the door. Her turquoise and pink curls were splayed around her and she giggled. Still groggy Kate sat up, "what has you so joyous?' she questioned.

Erin giggled again "oh no particular reason, Mr. Richards is out yelling at pedestrians again."

Kate let out a slight laugh "What time is it?"

"About five”

She then noticed the bag Erin had in her right hand. “What's in the bag?"

"My brains…"

Kate just stared at Erin. Her best friend walked toward the kitchen, "Just kidding, it's Chinese. And if you don't hurry you're not getting any"

It took Kate a minute to realize she was still on the couch and that she had come home and fell asleep in the middle of the day. Thinking about her mother had left her emotionally exhausted, and she had needed the sleep after passing out in Lyra's shop. She walked into the tiny kitchen. Erin was seated on the counter, already eating her chow mein. As Kate dug through the bag looking for orange chicken she noticed a clay turtle sitting on the counter grinning at her.

She sighed, "Why do we have a turtle sitting on our counter?"

Erin usually kept the little guy in their room, but apparently she moved him out here. The tiny grinning tortoise crept Kate out and Erin knew it. She probably moved him out here to see Kate freak out about him.

"He isn't just a clay turtle. He's Walnuts and he keeps me from losing my mind."

Now that Kate had her food in order she sat down next to Erin. "Well then, why is Walnuts sitting on the counter?"

"He seemed bored, and he wanted to get out of our room"

 Kate gave Erin a look, "turtles don't get bored”

“Yes, they do!” Erin exclaimed, “Turtles have feelings too!"

"Only if they are alive,"

 “Who said Walnuts isn't alive?"

 "I did. This conversation is becoming too weird to have while eating, or at any other point."

 "I don't find it weird at all."

Kate let out a laugh "That's because you're crazy."

 "Only on weekdays" Erin replied.

They both started laughing. They were both wacky in their own individual way, and it explained why the two girls got along well.

"So," Erin started "How did your trip to Lyra's emporium go?"

Kate nodded "It was weird."

"Weird? Like she turned into an elephant weird, or a guy wearing socks and sandals wacky?"

"No, like I passed out"

Erin looked incredulous, "you passed out? You haven't done that since we were what? Nine?"

 "I know, but that wasn't the weird part."

"Well, then what was? Give me details!"

"I had a dream-"

"You dream when you pass out?" Erin questioned

 "Not usually, but never mind. I had a dream-"

Her friend giggled "you sound like Dr. Martin Luther-"

Kate placed a hand over Erin's mouth, "can I talk?"

 "mph-mmm" Erin tried to say nodding and she removed her hand

"There was this room full of armor. And then there was a sword, its beauty was… I can't even describe it. When I picked it up I got all these flashes. I flew and then I saw a box-"

"It sounds like you hit your head pretty hard"

 "Yeah, it's just weird you know?"

"Definitely, I have had dreams that there were singing toothbrushes that have taken over the world."

Kate found that information both odd, and not useful "okay, but what do you think it means?"

"Well…Interpreting a dream is tricky. Flying tends to mean achievement or happiness. Like no force in the world can hold you down. Swords signify bravery, power and a desire for battle. Have you felt the need to beat the shit out of anyone lately?"

 Kate took a moment to think "does Walnuts the turtle count?"

"ENOUGH about Walnuts,” Erin said making a face “He’s a pacifist anyway, this has no connection to my delightful clay friend. It has to do with you subconsciously wanting to beat the shit out of somebody."  Erin’s face turned serious. "Do you think this could be a vision?"

 Kate looked her straight in the eye, "a vision?"

"Are you repeating every word that comes out of my mouth today?”  Erin nodded slowly, “Yes, a vision."

 Kate burst out laughing. All the horoscope and fortune telling articles Erin read online had to be getting to her head. "I’m not having visions"

 "People don't dream when they pass out, or at least, I don't think they do."

Okay, Erin was getting way too into this. "Vision or not I’m not going to make a big deal out of it. It's just weird"

 "Yeah," Erin responded hollowly, "weird"

 They spent a while just talking about everything and anything, but Erin seemed out of it. When Kate looked up at the time she saw that it was seven.

"Well, I'm going to head to the studio. Our homework was to finish a piece before next class, and I haven't even started"

Erin was staring off into space but still murmured, "Have fun, and stay safe"

As Kate walked out of the apartment she called over her shoulder "Bye"

The art studio was just a few blocks away and Kate could walk there within ten minutes. She strode inside, shrugged off her coat and turned on the lights. Speaking to herself, she whispered into the empty space "shall we begin?" Kate got out her paints and brushes and sat down in front of the blank canvas. She cleared her mind and just painted. She didn't think or worry, she just felt. Maybe that’s why she liked painting as much as she did. She could just let go of the day's worries and lose herself in colors, and brush strokes. She could just have a moment of clarity and concentration where she could let her mind wander. It made her feel… alive. Kate looked at what she had on the canvas. She didn't know the exact moment she decided to paint an angel, but that was what it had become. White feather wings spread out behind the brown haired beauty. Her long white dress blended into shades of turquoise, yellow and red that made up the background. The piece had turned out the best. She didn't know what drove her to make it, she hadn’t thought of angels in years.

She finished the girl’s face and hands, and then set her painting out to dry. All shades of colors stained her hands. She walked over to the sink still puzzling over her painting. Kate wasn't religious, but she used to be. She and her mother used to go to church every Sunday, pray at every meal and before they went to sleep. After her mother died praying and going to church reminded her too much of what she lost. So she stopped going. She stopped praying. She stopped believing. Apparently all of Erin's talk of visions and dream interpretation got to her head as well. Something probably subconsciously bothered her and she wanted protection. So she painted an angel. It made sense.

 Kate put away her painting supplies and turned off the lights. She locked the door and started off down the street. She reached a DO NOT WALK sign and stopped. She pulled out her phone to check the time it was eleven thirty. Kate usually wasn't out this late and the street looked eerie with the shadows cast by the streetlights. She got an uncomfortable feeling in her gut. It screamed danger, not safe. Kate walked faster; she knew she was acting irrationally. She was almost running, even though she doesn't see anyone on the street with her. Kate felt like the shadows were watching her, waiting to strike.

She stopped to catch her breath In front of the door to her apartment. Kate's heart thundered. Not safe, danger, not safe, danger. Kate had just unlocked the door when someone grabbed her from behind.

Finders Keepers: Chapter 1

"Hello Kate," Lyra called to her as she walked into the old thrift shop nestled between two beauty parlors. Kate found herself visiting it constantly. She loved the feeling of used clothes the resale shops you could find them in. She liked that each object had a soul, and story to tell. You couldn't find that in normal shops. Kate also loved the surprise you could get from these shops, the unlikeliness of finding the same object twice. The feeling awakens creativity in her soul. It made her hands itch for a paintbrush, and to wreak havoc onto a canvas to display what she felt.  This particular shop is close to her apartment and on campus. Kate could come whenever she wished.

Kate smiled at the woman behind the counter, Lyra. "Hardly" she chirped back "it's raining cats and dogs out there. Good morning my ass," Lyra let out a breathy laugh and moved from behind the counter. "What can you possibly be looking for today?" Her knowing eyes set on Kate with the same intense curiosity that always seemed to follow the woman wherever she went. The same question she always asked, and it had become a usual routine in every one of Kate's visits.  "Who said I’m looking for a specific item? Perhaps I’m just browsing," Kate responded as she set off towards the racks.

Kate walked through a sea of colors bright and joyous. She let her finger trail over the fabric to her right. She hadn't been honest when she said she wasn't looking for anything. She was looking for an object, but she didn't know what. There was calling in her blood, or a pull towards the shop. It also made her keep her coming back to the little shop. She knew when the initial dazzlement at the clothing wore off that it wasn't an object she could wear. The pull felt deeper as she moved toward the back of the shop. Lyra had told her more than once she was always looking for something, “whether she knew it or not."

Kate moved into the back of the shop where appliances and doodads that were not clothing were kept. There were mannequins, bowls, TVs, fake flowers, and any kind of mug you needed. She had found most of her furniture back here, but nothing felt quite like what she was looking for. However, she noticed today that there was a drawing table. Kate was drawn towards it instantly. She did need a new drawing table. She checked all around the table, but she couldn't find a price tag on it. "Lyra," She called out, "Lyra?” She left the table and around to the front of the shop. Lyra wasn't sitting behind the counter reading like she often did. Maybe she was sorting clothes somewhere else in the shop and didn't hear Kate calling her.

Kate searched through each rack of clothing and almost every aisle of shelves in the back. She was going down another aisle when she noticed an open door. Maybe it was a storage area and Lyra was back there. Though she would never admit it, and it was probably silly she was starting to worry about her. She walked through the open door, and into the room beyond.

There weren't spare clothes as Kate had originally thought, but glass display cases containing armor. They each case was lit and each set of armor unique in its own way.  She approached a particular case. The armor had to be made by an amazing craftsman. The helmet was white with gold border and swirling gold pattern over the front. On the sides, two wings came up along the sides and swept back over the head. Each metal feather was white and accented with gold.  The chest plate was pure gold, but Kate suspected it was much stronger. The chest plate was carved at the top and bottom to resemble feathers.  The shoulder plates were layered white and gold, and the gloves were golden claws.

As Kate walked through the room she was awed more and more with each item she saw. As she looked up from one set she noticed an altar at the back of the room. There were lights upon the altar and steps leading up to it. Kate walked toward the back of the room, although she was tempted to stop and look at the rest of the displays. That feeling of search in her gut intensified and she was drawn to the altar like a moth to a flame. She walked up the steps, they were cut from marble and she felt as if she was walking toward a great treasure.

Kate reached the top and stood before the altar. Upon it rested a case as black as night and accented in gold flames that danced across the top and decorated a silver latch. Kate stroked her fingers down the case before undoing the latch and opening it. Inside there rested a sword, it had a long blade that was polished well enough she could see her reflection. Inscribed on the blade down the center were symbols Kate didn't recognize.  In the center of the hilt was an opal that reflected every color. The rest of the gold hilt was carved to accent that one gem.  The guard was curved toward the sword, and the grip dark black. The pommel was carved to look like rising wings.

All the awe Kate had felt earlier was gone; it took her moments to realize she was crying. She knew she would never be able to paint a picture as magnificent of beautiful.  She took a moment to look at herself in the blade. She saw her wavy platinum blonde hair that fell across large dark gray eyes. For an instant, the reflection flickered and it wasn't herself she saw, but a man with the same wavy platinum blonde hair. It was so brief, Kate wondered if it even happened. It was most likely her overactive artist imagination acting up again.

The pull Kate had felt was dancing inside of her. The sword felt right, it seemed to call to her to pick it up and wield it. Before she knew what she was doing she grabbed the hilt and picked it up. The leather was cool to the touch and melded to her fingertips. A molten rush of emotion flowed into her through her arm. She could swear the sword was singing rejoicing to have her hold it. All at once she was no longer in the room, no longer holding a sword. She was in the clouds, the wind pushed at her face. Her wings were powerful and strong. Kate knew that she would not fall, that her wings would not fail her.  The image shifted and all she could see was a large, carved golden box.  There was a presence to it like it had a spirit. Not the box, but what was inside it.

Kate was yanked away. She was lying on the ground in someone’s arms. Lyra was saying her name. She was no longer in the room, and no longer holding the sword. "What happened?" she asked. Lyra was breathless as she replied, "you collapsed. You haven't stirred for 5 minutes." It must have been a hallucination that caused her to see those images. For an unidentifiable reason, Kate was relieved. "I have to get back to campus," she muttered and stood up. "I could walk you home," Lyra offered. "Thanks, but I'm good" Kate didn't need anyone to walk her home. She had always been light headed as a child.  She didn't need anyone to take care of her.

Kate noticed it had stopped raining when she went outside, but evidence of the earlier storm lingered. The sidewalk was stained a dark brown, and water dripped off the canvas covers over shop doors.  The whole city smelled fresh and it seemed like it was holding its breath. She remembered when she was younger and her mom alive it used to smell like worms after it rained. It didn't smell like worms here in the town, though. Kate didn't let herself think about either her mother or her childhood. The pain was just too sharp. But here in the city, miles away from the old apartment they called home she felt distanced.  The pain didn't strike her like it often did but settled more like an ache in her bones.

                Kate reached her apartment building and unlocked the door and went through the lobby. She took the elevator up to the fourth floor and walked down the hall. She stopped in front of her door and unlocked it. Inside there was a small living room with no matching furniture.  She had no classes tomorrow, so she crashed on her sofa and fell asleep.

Second Person Attempt 1

Author's Note:

I am trying a prompt from the write practice of writing in second person. This is probably going to suck, but please provide feedback.

         Your feet pound on the pavement. Your heart is racing, and your blood pulsing. You have to stop the train. You push against the slow-moving crowds of people keeping you from the platform. You aren't going to make, and you don't want to think about what is going to happen because of it.You hear the blow of a whistle and the screech of wheels starting to move. Just then you push through the crowd to an area you can see. The train  is pulling out of the station. You push the obtuse man next to you out of the way and push your legs as fast as they can. As you reach the edge of the platform it seems as if the whole world has gone still. You don't stop. You don't think. You just Jump.