Forum Thread

This is just my little dump for various writing blurbs I've written.

A couple notes:
You are allowed to post here!
If the former note is abused, I will revoke that statement.
I really do value any input you have; it's my goal to improve my writing through this.
Taking anything found here (sans Pokemon) and claiming it as your own is plagiarism.

Table of Contents:
"Ghost Realm" AU - 1
"The Cliff" AU - 2
"Dancing" AU - 3
"Halloween" AU - 4
"Come" - 5
"Birds' Warning" - 6
"Sky" Poem - 7
"The Strength to Fly" Poem - 8
"Life" - 9

Title: Ghost Realm

~5 hours after the battle with Shroud

AU

My eyes flickered open slowly, and at first I couldn't quite tell what I was seeing. I was sitting on the dead grass floor of a forest blanketed in a soft purple fog. Everything was eerily silent, and it took me a moment to even ponder how I'd gotten there; yeah, I had absolutely no clue. Standing shakily, I glanced upwards and, through the hazy atmosphere, realized I could see a building of sorts over the tops of the trees, though I couldn't quite make out its features.

Hesitantly at first, I began to walk towards it, my feet barely disturbing the withered grass. Growing nearer, I momentarily looked down at my hands. At first, they seemed normal, but when I moved them too much, they appeared shimmery, almost transparent. I assumed it simply had something to do with the odd nature of my surroundings, though.

Stepping out of the woods, I found myself in the shadowy courtyard of a stately ebony castle. Black vines carved from obsidian wound around cold silver fences leading to a plain entranceway. As I drew closer, a figure appeared in that entranceway and began to come towards me. I froze. It couldn't be. Sure enough, though, it was. She was clad in that familiar black tattered hoodie and black leggings, and looked quite the same as usual, though carried a more regal and mature air. I tried to say something, anything, but my mouth just moved soundlessly.

Finally, in a voice shattered by grief, I managed, "Cres..."

She smiled softly, sadly, and continued at a steady pace towards me. On a sudden impulse, I stepped back, shaking my head. I was dangerous. It wasn't safe for her to be near me. Crescent didn't seem to be worried, though, and upon reaching me, stretched out a hand and laid it on my shoulder, preventing me from retreating any further. My best friend studied my face for a moment before pulling me into a hug, letting a tear fall and hit my hair. While the embrace did comfort me, her hands, her shirt, felt devoid of warmth, really of motion. I still held out hope, however.

Sobbing, I choked out, "Are you... can we go home?"

"Oh, Lace," she sighed tearfully. After a moment, she said, "Come with me."

Taking my hand and leading me through the courtyard into the palace, she then guided me wordlessly through its silver and midnight halls. Eventually, after climbing some number of winding staircases, we came to a large, open room with vast glass doors leading out to a balcony. Outside was standing a faint, semi-transparent form. Cres waved her hand, the doors sliding open seemingly in response, then nodded for me to go through.

As I moved down the stairs and across the shining ivory floor, I again noticed that my boots made hardly a sound. When I stepped out onto the elegant balcony, the person turned around, and once more was I stopped in my tracks. Realization, grief, joy, longing, and a whole mess of other emotions cascaded over me. Argent. I rushed to him, throwing my around around his neck and hugging him for the first time in nearly two and a half years. He hugged me back without a second of hesitation, as if he'd been waiting for this moment the whole time we were apart.

After a while, though, I, strangled by sorrow, whispered, "I'm dead, aren't I? And so is Cres."

Despite the fact that I had closed my eyes as I spoke, I could feel him nod.

Title: The Cliff

~3 weeks prior to the battle with Shroud

Pokemon AU

As the earth stopped shaking, a piece of the gorge wall broke off. Tempest lunged forwards as the girl standing before him plummeted, grabbing her hand just as she was about to fall out of reach. He was thrown off balance by the quake and therefore her weight pulled him over the side, too. They would have both fallen if not for his Boltund, who sunk its teeth into the boy's boot and held on tight, trying to pull its master back to safety. It felt as if both his leg and his arm were simultaneously being pulled from their sockets, but he refused to release his grip.

"Caly!" he gasped as the blood rushed to his head due to being upside down. "Just hold on!"

Behind him, he could hear the sound of the battle between the Krookodile sicced on them by Shroud Corporation and Calypso's Kingdra. The Intimidation Pokemon's Earthquake was what had caused this, and Tempest could only pray it didn't use the move again. Caly was already hurt enough, bleeding from a gash above her eye and another across her side where shards of rock had grazed her. She looked up at him, and her coffee eyes locked with his own.

In a hoarse voice, she said pleadingly, "Tempest, let me go." When he opened his mouth to protest, she cut him off. "There's a river at the bottom. Trust me, I'll be okay."

The rational side of him saw her point, her logic, but he couldn't force himself to obey her, even if she was technically in charge of him on this mission. However, he could hear Volt straining to pull him up, could feel his teeth tearing deeper into his foot. Calypso would have a better chance of surviving herself if she didn't have to deal with saving the both of them. Squeezing her hand, Tempest reluctantly let go.

As Caly's weight vanished, Volt was able to yank the boy back to the top of the gorge. He caught a glimpse of water swirling up from the river to surround the golden-brown haired girl, then the next he knew was he was staring up at the sky, chest heaving, leg aching. He knew he couldn't rest, however. Standing, he stumbled at first, but brushed it off and hurried to where the Kingdra had defeated the Krookodile and now bobbed up and down in a small pond. Calypso's backpack lay beside his own at the base of a nearby tree. Rushing over, he pulled out the Dive Ball that Cascade called home and called her back. Slinging both bags over his shoulder with a wince, he set off once more towards the gorge, a slight limp in his gait, looking for a way to get down to the river.

After perhaps ten minutes, Tempest, Volt at his side, spotted a limp, bedraggled form lying on a rocky outcropping at the bottom of the ravine. A mix of panic and urgency churning in his stomach, he scanned the sides rapidly for a way down; the only possible path he could make out, though, was a thin slanted ledge leading to the ground about halfway down the thirty-odd-foot wall. However, a sturdy-looking tree jutted out from the wall just above the peak where it widened. Hesitating only to return his Boltund to its PokeBall, the boy set off with a running start and lept for it.

Grabbing an outstretched branch, he could feel the bark tear the skin on his palms as his momentum swung him forwards, then backwards, then forwards again, like a pendulum. Tempest then dropped the remaining four-ish feet to the ledge and, hands balled into fists in an attempt to push back the pain, side-stepped down the thin path. The second he was close enough to the ground, he jumped down and hurried to the unconscious Calypso's side.

Being the Water Protector, Caly could breath under water, and therefore drowning wasn't a concern for her. In fact, other than her original injuries and some new bruising along her collar bone, she appeared relatively alright. Regardless of what he thought about being forced into this position, there were certainly times where not simply being an average human came in handy. Sending out Volt once more, Tempest instructed the Boltund to search for a location where he would be able to get Caly out of the gorge; that definitely wouldn't be feasible from the way he had come.

Roughly thirty-five minutes after that, Volt returned, which told Tempest without his even having to speak to the Pokemon that it would take him about half an hour to cover the same distance the Boltund had covered twice in that same amount of time. Asking the Electric dog to carrying their bags, the boy lifted Calypso into his arms and began to carry her downstream. The added weight hurt even more; his foot screamed in protest, his leg ached something terrible, his hands and left arm burned. He wouldn't allow himself to stop, though.

After what seemed like hours, Tempest finally came upon a place where the ravine walls had narrowed down and met with the river bank, creating a viable exit. Narrowly avoiding tripping, he stumbled up it and into a lush Unovan forest, quite a ways away from their temporary camp. He finally set Calypso down in a sunny clearing, hoping to help her dry off, as she wasn't immune to catching a cold. His Boltund immediately darted away and began to converse with some wild Burmy. Within five minutes, forest-dwelling Pokemon of all species surged into the clearing, carrying various berries, leaves with water inside, and so forth. He himself pulled out a first-aid kit from his bag, which Volt had dropped. Seeing the wild Pokemon seemed to be taking care of Caly, he took out some bandages and began to wrap his hands.

Nearly another hour later, just as the Electric Protector was about to doze off, he heard Caly stir. Sitting up, he glanced at her and was happy to she that she was staring back at him. The girl smiled a bit, and he returned the expression.

"Morning," Tempest grinned, standing gingerly and moving to sit beside her.

"Oh, 'morning," Calypso laughed, setting her hand close to his in the grass, but nothing more. They'd agreed that, although they had each expressed interest in the other, now wasn't the best time to begin a relationship, regardless of the actions of some of the other Protectors. Someday, Tempest reminded himself. When incidents like this are a thing of the past. Overhead, the soft sound of muffled wingbeats could suddenly be heard. Staring up, the boy watched as an Altaria flew by, then returned and began to circle. Helping Caly up, he waved at its auburn-haired rider. Lace had found them.

Title: Dancing

~4 months after the battle with Shroud

Pokemon AU

Faint strains of chatter and music filtered up from the garden in the base of the tree where the rest of the Protectors were having a party, of sorts. "To boost morale," as Calypso had put it. Ao wasn't much for loud music, and so she had retreated to the upper-most level of the tree extension to their base. Cedar had grown it some time ago in this valley beside the main hill, and the thing had to be at least two-hundred feet tall. Even more amazing, the whole plant was hollow on the inside whilst remaining very much alive.

Among the top branches was nestled a cozy, overgrown, two-floored room with no roof on the second layer; instead, rafters made of the thick branches stretched overhead. It was primarily used as a lookout post, but Ao loved to come up and watch the sunset through the quaint, glassless windows. Amber, Calypso, and Cedar had also worked to establish a pipe system within the wood, so the sink on the first level wasn't just for show, giving Ao, or whoever else was occupying the treehouse, access to hot water, potentially for tea.

Footsteps clattered on the ladder leading from the bottom level to the top. Ao, blackberry-raspberry tea in hand, turned quickly to see Tye Reese, the Fire Protector, climbing up. As he stepped off the top rung, he reached up to push back his hair, a sort of golden dirty blond color that she hadn't quite figured out how to describe, out of his face as he glanced around the room.

Seeing the magenta-and-lilac haired young woman, he smiled and said, "Not interested in the festivities? Reed and Lark got in a fight again; it was quite spectacular. Aiden may or may not have been egging them on. Literally."

"I... don't want to know, do I?"

"No, probably not."

The twenty-year-old walked over to sit down in an overstuffed armchair across from the couch Ao herself was on, a gesture that she quite appreciated, as personal space invasions weren’t really her thing, although she knew Tye well enough that it wasn't necessary.

"Tea?" she asked him, moving to get up. When he shook his head, she continued, "Did you need something?"

Tye paused for a moment, staring out the window as the Alolan sunset reached its full beauty, lighting the room with a warm golden-orange glow. A soft breeze rippled through, ruffling both occupants' hair gently.

Turning back to her, he finally said, "Well, Aiden and I... I don't know quite how to put this, but you've probably noticed, knowing you. Er, straight and simple, we're both romantically interested in you."

She turned a bit pink and ran her hand through her hair. Ao had in fact noticed Tye's twin brother, Aiden's, attraction to her, but Tye? That was a surprise. She'd thought there hadn't been a chance of her feelings being reciprocated. She knew him well enough, however, to realize that he'd slipped into his habit of phrasing things in a technical manner when he wasn't certain of the incoming response.

"That wasn't really what you wanted to say, or at least not the way you wanted to say it, was it?" she prompted gently, her tone a bit flustered.

The man seemed to be surprised for a moment before recalling that, not only had the two of them bonded over the past four months since the battle with Shroud Corporation, Ao was an empath, an ability gained due to her status as the Psychic Protector.

"I- no, it wasn't. Excuse me if what I'm about to say sounds sappy," he laughed before continuing. "I care about you quite deeply; that you're beautiful, not only in looks but, more importantly, in personality, is just the tip of the iceberg. It's no surprise that you've attracted my brother's attention, and who can blame him? And I'd completely understand if you'd prefer him, or neither of us, or don't know right now, but... I guess I just came up here to let you know what's going on, and perhaps to ask you if you'd, I dunno... like to come back down, potentially dance?"

She was shell-shocked for a moment and just stared down at her tea, not entirely sure how to respond. Ao didn't know what she'd been expecting, but it hadn't been that. She then stood, placing the mug on a coaster, and walked over to him, holding out a hand.

"Who says we need to go back to the others to dance?" she pointed out with a little grin.

Tye appeared surprised but managed to take her hand and stand up. Even as he began to guide her in a sort of slow waltz, with a chuckle he said, "There's no music."

"Why would we want music?" Ao smiled.

"No reason."

Title: Halloween

~8 years after the battle with Shroud

Pokemon AU

Calypso shifted a bit, adjusting her reading glasses as she turned the page of her book, and leaned her head on Tempest's shoulder. It was late and the two were sitting in bed, both reading. From the room just beside theirs, the sound of their daughters laughing and talking in hushed voices about their candy haul from that day could be heard. They'd dressed as a Horsea and Skrelp, with Tempest and Caly joining in as a Dragalge and Kingdra. Every year so far, the family had chosen a line or two of Pokemon to go as. The year prior, the twins had been Pichu, Tempest a Raichu, and Calypso an Alolan Raichu.

In an attempt to raise the girls as normally as possible, they would fly on the backs of their Pokemon to the mainland, meet with some acquaintances for a party, and get changed into their costumes there. After chatting with other parents for an hour or so while the girls played with children their age, the adults would take the kids out Trick-or-Treating. Caly had met those people through her job as a teacher, and many of them had children who had been her students.

The 4-year-olds' chatter quieted, but Calypso knew better than to assume they'd gone to sleep, even though it was hours past their bedtime. Sure enough, the white door set in the stone wall connecting the family's two rooms, which had been cleverly decorated to appear as if they were simply located inside a normal house instead of a cave, swung open and Fern and Amethyst Clare came bouncing in, throwing themselves into their parents' bed. Fern clambered over her father's legs to curl by Caly's side while Amethyst sat by Tempest.

"Bit late, no?" Tempest said with a smile, laying his book down so the spine faced upwards and the pages pressed down against the blanket.

"We can't sleep!" Fern responded cheerfully.

"Daddy, can you and Mommy tell us a story?" Amethyst pleaded.

Tempest placed his hand atop Amethyst's head with a grin. "Sure, sweetheart. Which story?"

Without hesitation, Fern chirped, "The one about the Legendary Pokemon! That that you and Mommy are friends with!"

Caly smiled, laying her arm across her daughter's shoulders. "Long, long ago..." she began, going through the story of the Burned Tower, of how Ho-Oh had resurrected Suicune, Raikou, and Entei from the flames. How Raikou and Suicune had returned to fight by the sides of two members of a large team of trainers and take down an evil group of people. How "Lightning" and "Dewdrop" had left after the fight but still roamed the earth, watching out for people and Pokémon alike.

"...and someday, girls, you might see them yourselves," she finished.

The two 4-year-olds were grinning from ear to ear.

"I'm going to see Dewdrop! We'll be best friends and I'll ride on her back and I'll tell her about you and Daddy and Am!" Fern clapped, bouncing up and down on the bed.

"Well, I'm going to see Lightning!" her sister put in.

Turning back to her mother, Fern begged, "One more story, please? Tell us about the Ghost!"

Caly paused and glanced at her husband before responding. "What ghost, dear?"

"The Ghost! The happy-sad Ghost! The one that Uncle Mahogany sees when he watches the sky!"

"The one that visits today every year," Amethyst nodded, staring at her parents intently.

Calypso was at a loss for words, and Tempest seemed to be, as well. A little pang of sorrow echoed in her chest; she knew who Mahogany saw when he excused himself from dinner early and sat outside alone, staring out at the stars reflecting on the sea. Her daughters couldn't actually be talking about that, though. Could they?

"Well," Tempest finally said. "I've never heard of such a ghost, but I'm sure she means no harm. It's late, girls; time for two sleepy trainers to go to bed."

"Daaaaaaaaddddd!" Fern groaned, but she rolled off the bed anyway and began to sulk back to the room she and her sister shared.

Amethyst hesitated a bit, waiting until her twin was out of sight before following. As the little girl rested her hand on the doorframe, she turned back to her parents.

"Daddy..." she began. "How did you know the Ghost is a she?"

Calypso realized her husband must have had the same train of thought that she herself had.

"I just guessed, Am," he smiled after a moment of hesitation.

The brunette nodded slowly. "I love you, Dad. Love you, Mom."

"Love you, too, sweetie," Caly smiled.

The moment the girl shut the door behind her, Calypso sat up straight and turned to look at Tempest, perplexity in her eyes. Before either could say anything, however, Fern and Amethyst's whispers filtered into the room once more. They cut off quickly, though, then after a moment of silence, Amethyst's said, "Do you have to go?"

The Protectors got up quickly and hurried to their daughters' room. Out of the corner of her eye, Caly saw the teal analog clock on the right wall of the room change to 12:00am. Her husband opened the door and she caught a glimpse of something silvery that quickly blinked out of view. The twins were standing on the shaggy mermaid-purple carpet between their two pastel-pink-quilted beds, staring at the empty space in front of them somewhat sadly.

Turning to see their parents, however, caused their faces to light up as they ran to them, tumbling over Amethyst's bed and into their parents' arms, crying, "Mommy! Daddy! Did you see her? Did you see the Ghost?!"

"Only for a second," Tempest said softly, an arm around Calypso, hugging the girls to them with the other.

The 26-year-old woman had only seen the form briefly, but it had seemed familiar to her. She smiled a bit and glanced up at the ceiling. Thank you, she found herself whispering within her own mind. For coming to see my daughters. A moment of decision came over her, and she determined that this wasn't something she would be discussing with the other Protectors. She couldn't really be sure it had been who she thought. More importantly, it wasn't the right time. She didn't know if it ever would be. Even her daughters had noticed, after all; Mahogany still saw "the Ghost" every time he watched the sky. He acted kind and jovial, but that underlying sadness had never gone away. Everyday, she knew, her best friend still grieved for Crescent.

Title: Come

Vines twist their way throughout the structure of the aged building, ever-devouring the former living space. Shingles hang haphazardly from the side of the roof, though in most places no shingles remain. Modern glass develops spider-webs of cracks when broken, a stark contrast to the toothy maws that grin from the window frames. The door looks to be nearly falling off its hinges, a sorry summary of the scene. That ancient Victorian house off to the side of the highway is truly a wreck.

Around the house, a host of aged, derelict, steel-blue cars lie scattered. All of these cars are the exact same make and model, though they remain in varying states of disrepair. I’ve always driven past them, both when my parents had taken me to school and now when I take myself. Seeing them my whole life likely influenced my own choice of car; the one I drive is identical to this eccentric assortment, sans the shattered windshields and rust. This is how the house has always been, and this way it remains.

Today, though, something has changed. Today, something is different. I can’t put my finger on it; the property looks just as it always has. All the same, I pull over to the side of the road, staring up at the jagged edges of the front window that seems to watch me right back. I can’t help but wonder once more what its story might be. Come in, it whispers. Come see. Dare I obey? Dare I see?

I open my door and step out, out onto a shoddy cobble path leading to the entrance. Moss grows on, over, and around the stones, making the walk rather slick. Passing under an archway completely engulfed by grey-toned ivy, I admire the resilience of the plant. Though the wood that once supported it has rotted away, it stands on its own. The admiration lasts but a short time, though, before an inexplicable and all-too-familiar tremor runs down my spine. I hurry on, arriving at the porch of ebony mahogany. Just a quick peak. Come see.

The wood creaks beneath my weight, likely more than it has felt in some time. It sounds like a groaning chuckle, but I’m certain that it can be no more than my active imagination. The grey wood door gives to my touch easily. I step inside, the inner floors producing their own chuckle. Careful, I tell myself; I can see there is a basement from the numerous odd holes littering the entry hall, as if something heavy had crashed through to it repeatedly. I step forward. The floor doesn’t hold. I’m falling. Come in.

I land on my feet. The basement is full of spiders. They skitter over my shoes and across the cobwebs that fully blanket the corners and walls, swarming the hole I’ve just made. I cannot fight the scream of terror that emerges from my throat, though I quickly strangle it, clapping my hand over my mouth. Turning wildly, I see a staircase behind me and sprint towards it, flinging open the door. I’m glad to find that there are no webs in the stairwell. Come see.

The steps are lit only by the light filtering in through the open door and the cracks in the roof of the floor above. The musty scent of rotting wood fills my nose, but presently I emerge onto ground level once more. I know I ought to leave, quickly and now, but the intrigue that had grown tepid and been doused by my fall flares again when I realize the staircase continues upwards. Promising myself I’ll be more careful this time, I begin to climb. This is a bad idea. Come in.

The vines visible from outside have grown down into the upper level of the house; it feels as if I’m walking through a steel green and dusty grey jungle. At the end of the hall is a door; I figure it must lead to the frontmost room and its large window. The same shiver from outside hits me again, a shiver of trepidation. A shiver of being... watched. That’s what it had been. Surely, though, it was once again merely my imagination. This fear is nonsensical. I grasp the handle of the door, turning it slowly. Come see.

Horror greets me. A white shade turns, grinning the awful, toothy grin of the house’s windows. A familiar shade. It rushes me. And now? Now I know who made the holes in the floor. Whose vehicles lie in the front yard. Outside of the window, I see my car rolling slowly forwards. It joins its brethren, left to rust for all of time. Just like this house. Just like me. Come.

Title: Birds' Warning

“Where do we go when we’ve run out of people to trust?” I asked. “What do we do?”

Cal said nothing, only continued to stand at the tinted window of what had just a short while ago been our safe house. Outside, kids ran through the street, playing soccer beneath a steel grey sky as if all were normal. As if they hadn’t been told to report me on the spot should they see me. I hadn’t done it; I hadn’t killed the kindly miser Mr. Peterson, nor his wife, nor his young children whom I had been looking after that night. I’d been in the house, though, and as per the law, that was apparently enough. My whole life I’d been the rule-following, never-in-trouble star student in the back of the class; how it had all changed so quickly I might never truly understand.

Even the Florences, whose kids I had once babysat and who had allowed me to stay with them for a time when I asked, had tried to turn me in once they received the news of my supposed deed. They now laid unconscious in their own kitchen; Cal had stopped them before they could hit the ‘dial’ button. I feared what would happen if he wasn’t as quick next time.

“What do we do?” I repeated softly to myself, not loud enough that he would hear me.

While I’d been dating Cal for a few months now, I was still at a point where I was worried about irritating him; a regular source of anxiety for me in general. I owed him my life, and I knew he was risking his own by helping me, but that self consciousness and the uncertainty regarding whether our relationship would last was still inexplicably present.

Turning, he took my hand with a comforting smile and led me out of the living room towards the back entrance of the suburban house. “It’ll be alright,” he said gently. “Everything will work out.”

The house led out to a short slope down to a wooded creek. The forest was normally cool and pleasantly shaded, but today, something felt off. The birds’ song sounded like a warning, worming its way into my mind and making me shiver. The shadows of the trees crept across the ground; they were tentacles, reaching out for me. I pressed closer to Cal.

As we reached the creek, he came to a stop, gazing straight ahead as if entranced by something distant. I tried to follow his stare, but all I could see were the early winter trees, dead and grey, oddly foreboding. Shifting uncomfortably, I wanted to question whether this was the place he intended to hide; it was so close to the house we had just fled.

Cal slowly turned back to me. I froze. The look on his face, while still his normal kind smile, sent shivers of horror down my spine. I took a step back, trying to slip my hand out of his, but he held on firmly.

“What’s wrong?” he beamed, taking a step towards me.

This wasn’t right. Something was not right.

“E-excuse me,” I muttered, taking another step.

When he followed me again and still refused to let go of my hand, my instincts flew into a panic. I wrenched my hand away, bolting backwards. He seemed momentarily startled by my reaction, but before I knew it he had caught up. I felt something slam into the back of my head, sending me crashing to the ground. I rolled over quickly, stars bursting before my watering eyes. A mess of disbelief, terror, and so many other primal-feeling emotions that I had not the time to express poured into my chest. Did Cal just hit me? What was happening? Was this a dream? A nightmare?

Grinning, the young man I had thought I knew pulled a gun from his back pocket, ebony and menacing.

“Terribly sorry,” he said, still cheerful. My brain couldn’t connect the image of him that was before me with his actions. “You see, I really wish you hadn’t been working that night. Such a shame; you would have done well to tell me such things. Perhaps then you wouldn’t have gotten all mixed up in this. I can’t give you a chance to prove your innocence, though, love; it would be such a shame if the police began a hunt for the real killer.”

The last thing I saw was an image, flickering through my brain. An image of a face in the dark of the kitchen, shrouded by night but familiar all the same. I’d heard a gunshot, a gunshot that now echoed in my own ears, and rushed in to see that face. I’d known all along, hadn’t I? I’d merely been too blinded, too afraid, too unwilling, to admit it to myself. How stupid...

Title: Sky

Clouds.
Churning, weaving, everchanging.
Rain.
Pouring down her face.
Yet she smiles
Wings spread,
Heart alight,
Mouth open in a peal of laughter.
The sky is a canvas, and she loves to watch
As the Painter perfects His peerless work.
Life is delicate,
Like the wisps of clouds on the edges
Of a downpour,
Or the faint mists rising from morning ground.
One wrong stroke and she might fall,
One moment of halted flight and she may plummet.
Still she flies. Still she soars.
Each wingbeat could be her last,
Every raindrop weighing her down
Just a little more.
But what is life without a little rain?
Her eyes sparkle
As she gazes out across the expanse of beauty,
Endless, glorious.
And the rain?
The rain makes it all the more magnificent.

Title: The Strength to Fly

A young bird falls
From the sky.
Its fellows give chase,
Angry that it would dare
To differ.
It doesn't move,
Paralyzed by fear,
By the hopelessness of the situation.
What point is there
In standing up to them?
Then,
The flock is chased away,
A human has arrived
To save the bird.
Perhaps they once knew each other.
Or maybe not.
The human left their own flock
Some time ago.
They help the bird up,
Give it the freedom to fly away
As it did before.
It doesn't.
I don't.
I'll stay this time.
Will you?
Best friends.
Forever.
We're stronger,
Together.

Title: Life

A door lies ahead of me. A choice. In a way, I’m tired of making these choices, but in another, I’m driven by them. The decision remains, though, because this choice is more important than any I’ve had to make before. I’ve opened many doors and I’ve seen many doors shut, but this one is of particular importance. I could open it, I could pass through, and after it I will have many more doors to open, many more choices to make. Or, I could let it remain shut, staying here on this side forever, no more doors. There is no remaining undecided. I may open it once or lock it forever. The choice is mine.

But if I were to open this door, would I be, in reality, closing it? By choosing to lock it would I be truly opening it? For either is a decision, and a decision is a door. By continuing to pause here, I only select another door for myself and go through that one, and while this door of indecision leads me to the same location as the open door, it might bring me back to this place again someday, and this place is dangerous.

When I got here, I was so certain I wanted to lock the door. It’s a rational thought; if I lock it, I’ll never have to open any others. The key is on the ground before me, but I’m now uncertain as to whether I want to pick it up. There is a light shining from somewhere behind the door, hauntingly beautiful and casting shadows behind me. I suddenly want to see it. The light is growing, coaxing me towards it, away from the key. Do I go? Should I go?

There will only be more doors ahead. Some will lead to light, some will lead to shadow, and no matter how careful I am with my choices, I’m only human; I’m bound to choose shadow over light sometimes. The shadows are frightening, but through them, light will always lead me. It’s a matter of being willing to withstand the fear and hurt. Am I willing? I don’t want to be. I want to stay here with the locked door. I want to hide from all the shadows, though the light seems so warm. I need to make a choice, and it’s the most difficult I’ve ever faced.

This decision, however, is no longer hard for me. I chose to open the door long ago. The key was always a lie. Now, I’m truly free.