5 posts tagged “nanowrimo; novel”
Chapter 5
Tadgh
The scent of flowers was heavy in the quiet, muffled air. He saw them as he walked, lining every wall, spilling around corners, seeming to claim chairs for themselves. He felt his brother beside him, walking slowly, and keeping pace, both of their heads hung low, quiet. It was the same as it had always been, silent and tense, the sense of peace attempted to be recreated failing and failing miserably. Black dresses and black blazers, white hair visible under black hats. There were flowers of all colors, but mostly white, the sharp, stinging scent of lilies smothering in his nostrils.
He moved as if he were floating, each step light, unfelt. Until slowly he sat, turning his head expecting to see Trey’s face but instead saw Aunt Esme, her lips pale and smiling. She looked healthy, content as she nodded at him and gave his knee a pat. He noted the veins, sharp blue lines under paper thin skin. The freckles, the thin white hair on her arms, a soft pearl bracelet loose about her bone thin wrist. And dangling from her fingertips was a simple black rosary, the crucifix tapping lightly against his leg. He saw also that her nails were painted, a French manicure. She always loved her French manicures.
The old woman gave his knee another squeeze and a smile, the chair creaking stubbornly as he stood. Again, the light, fleeting footsteps and he stood at the front of the hall, the kneeler covered in plush red velvet. A thin white hand reached forward to rest on the edge of the casket, smiling sadly at the old woman who lay within. Her skin was still pale, the same blue veins sharp and clear. That pearl bracelet lay stark against the simple black dress she wore. And around her hands the same black rosary lay, twisted tight around her fingers but still unable to cover the perfect French manicure that she had, even in death.
A slow glance turned his head to see that Aunt Esme no longer sat in the chair where she had been. She was no longer smiling at him from afar. But she was with him now, peaceful, at rest in the simple, sleek casket set before his feet. Another soft smile and he let fingertips touch against his forehead, his shoulders, making the signs of the cross as he knelt and said his last words to his Great Aunt, wishing her peace for eternity in Heaven.
His leg twitched and he breathed in deep, suddenly awake. A mumbled groan broke in his chest and he sighed, simply laying still, not bothering to move.
There was something on the TV but he had stopped paying attention a long time ago. It was late, really late but he didn’t feel like going up to bed. He had just slumped on the couch, telling himself he’d head upstairs in a few minutes but his body was having none of it. His long legs were thrown about, one resting atop a cushion, the other propped up on the arm of the couch. A pale hand thrown over his eyes, the other tucked comfortably behind his head and his mouth hung open slightly as the sounds of the TV muttered through his mind.
Somewhere a door creaked and he twitched slightly again, moving to flop over onto his side, pulling the pillow out from under his head and pushing it against his ear. His breathing was heavy as the door creaked again; closing this time followed by footsteps treading lightly down the hallway. They were headed towards him and with a heavy sigh he opened his eyes but didn’t move the pillow away from his face. The footsteps stopped and he heard breathing, knowing it was his older brother Trey just getting home.
The smell of pot hung heavy on the air and Tadgh cleared his throat, listening as the older boy spoke in a rough whisper.
“Ey…Mum up?”
“Nah…”
“Dah gone?”
“Yeah…”
His words were muffled as he answered his brother’s questions automatically. It was the same basically every weekend. Tadgh didn’t really care what his brother did, as long as he got home safely and before the sun rose. Though out of habit it seemed, Trey always checked in with Tadgh to see if his parents were around. Their Father worked nights, their Mother went to bed by 2 AM at the latest. It was smooth sailing from there.
He listened as Trey stood there for a moment still, Tadgh moving the pillow the slightest inch to glance at his brother with lifted brow. But he was just watching the flickering images on TV. It was some sort of Anime, Tadgh had no idea what about and he wasn’t really interested. Tossing the pillow aside he sat up and rubbed at his eyes, yawning as he glanced at his brother and started to speak, “’Ow were ih…ave fu…” but his words were cut off by the sharp ringing of the telephone.
Blinking sharply both boys turned to look at the phone at the same time. Who would call at this hour? Instantly the cold feeling of dread spread through his chest but Tadgh tried to swallow it down. With a frown the younger glanced at the older, who simply shrugged and soon Tadgh had the phone in his hand and pressed to his ear. It was his Father on the other end, his voice heavy, thick, and the hint of tears painfully obvious.
“Tadgh…wake yer Motha…Aunt Esme’s dead.”
Chapter 4
Father Mulkerrin
The grass was soft and warm beneath his fingertips, the late afternoon sunlight painting the sky a vivid picture of orange and red. Somewhere far off there was the sound of waves crashing, echoing, gentle, ever present. It was a soothing sound and the warm summer air buzzing around him made him sleepy and peaceful. With a smile he turned to the boy sitting on the grass beside him, staring into his own reflection.
It was his twin, Paul looking back at him, those blue eyes bright, that grin serene as well, both of them just drinking in the late Summer air. Quiet and relaxed as the day drew to a close and time pressed ever forward in its slow, languid way. With a sigh of contentment Sam moved to lie back on the cool green grass and stare up at the fading light.
The sky changed to that of an ornate and beautifully carved altar at a Church. A careful glance around and he saw his family, his Father looking tired, his Sister too young to understand what had happened and most heartbreaking of all, his Mother hunched over the casket, her sobs the only sound in the heavy, silent room. No one else moved, frozen to their seats, unaware, unknowing. Acting as if they weren't even sure why they were here. But Sam simply made his way over to his Mother to wrap strong arms around her thin, trembling shoulders and pull her close.
Her tear stained face buried into his chest and he simply held her. For some reason, though he knew it was a tragedy, Sam felt at peace. He felt the sorrow and the grief weighing heavy on his heart but at the same time he understood. It had been Paul's time. He was young, the car accident had been terrible but he had not suffered, death had come instantly and God had taken him up to Heaven.
Somehow Sam just knew that and was comforted by the thought. As he thought of how peaceful his Brother was now in eternal sleep, of how beautiful and fulfilled he must feel being in the presence of the Lord, Samuel smiled. He held his mother tight and he smiled, happy for his Brother, glad that he had finally found peace. And at first, he didn't notice how his Mother's shoulders had stopped trembling. He didn't notice how she was now looking up at him, her smile tear stained but bright. Only when he glanced down did he realize how serene and content she looked.
With a shaking breath she reached fingers up to rest them on his cheek, echoing Sam's thoughts as she said softly, "He's happy now, he's happy in Heaven, he's at peace."
Outside a car door slammed and he twitched, the dream shattered and consciousness quickly taking its place. Blue eyes opened slowly to stare in confusion at his darkened room. The more he blinked the more the room came into focus and he remembered where he was. A soft breath was released as he rolled over onto his side to glance at the clock. It was 6 AM. He would have to be up soon for the morning services. The dream hadn't disturbed him, though he found himself thinking about it as he showered, ate and prepared for the day.
He often dreamt of his twin Paul who had died so young. And in his dreams he often found himself at peace, content with the situation, though it had been tragic and life changing at the time. He hadn't even thought about entering the Seminary then. They had been only teenagers and Sam could remember how deep his grief had run. How long it had taken him to really accept the fact that his Brother was gone and wasn't coming back. His anger with God had been fierce. And though he eventually made peace and decided that the best course of action for his life would be to become a Priest, the memory of his Brother's death was still sore and he knew the wound would never fully heal.
Why he dreamed of him so often and why he always felt so peaceful and calm during such dreams was a mystery to him. And though Father Samuel Mulkerrin was usually a man of deep thought and silent contemplation, this morning, he was too tired to give his subconscious anymore than a passing glance. He would mull over it later, when the services were done and he was allowed a little free time. For now though, he gave himself one more glance in the mirror, fixed the simple white collar around his neck and headed out of the rectory and across the way to the Church, the brisk Autumn air ruffling his hair as he walked.
Chapter 3
Rock
The world flew by in a blur of colors and sounds. Every second was 100 miles traveled, stopping only to grin at his friends and then speed off again. He knew exactly where he was going, exactly where every step would take him. He never got lost, never tripped, never crashed; nothing could ever stop him when he ran. Somehow through the blur the world had become he could navigate his way and never get hurt. It was a second sense; somehow knowing what would be around every corner, what happened second before it actually did.
He slowed his pace, sliding to a stop, barely feeling the burn in his legs. With a wide grin he winked at his friends who stood clustered around the car sipping coffee, smoking, talking and best of all, laughing. They were always amazed by his ability, by his utter speed. They were impressed, awed but he could tell some of them were jealous. They wanted to move as fast as he could. But he knew they couldn’t. It was something only he could do, it set him apart from the crowd, made him special and unique and he would be lying if he said he didn’t love it.
Dimly he heard Jameson say something about the car and he knew they wanted to race him. It always ended like this, he raced around the world a couple of times and then they challenged him to a race around the busy streets of New York City. It was dangerous but his friends were good at avoiding obstacles on the road, only he was better. He could dart in and out between cars in seconds, a mere blur to the human eye.
With a grin he simply nodded, knowing it was useless to talk. His friends gathered into the cruiser, the engine revved and dimly he watched as the tires squealed, burning rubber, smoking as they peeled out onto the street. He was rushing by then, bare seconds having passed and already he was circling around Times Square for the third time, his friends not even having gotten through the second red light.
Stopping for a moment to simply catch his breath, though he was barely even sweating Richard “Rock” Blake glanced up at the cars and buildings stretching to eternity in the middle of Times Square. He watched as his breath steamed off into the cold October air, watching as the world traveled by, at a snails pace to him. Cabs honked lazily at each other, bikers wove in and out of traffic, people jay walked but he didn’t care. The world moved at its normal pace and Rock felt like he saw everything crystal clear, each movement slow, barely moving.
The scream of tires turned his head and he watched in slow motion as his friends in the cruiser began to get closer. That same grin that had never faded from his lips grew as he readied himself but then caught something out of the corner of his eye. A boy, a teenager, young, scared but desperate was running down the street, sprinting fast in his own mind but barely moving to Rock. He barreled into a woman, grabbing tight to her purse and wrenching the small leather bag off the woman’s shoulder as he roughly knocked her to the ground.
Her scream tore through the air to echo in Rock’s mind and he clenched his teeth, already moving. The boy was on the ground with a split lip and a cry before a second had even passed. The purse skittered across the ground and Rock leaned down to pick it up, at the same time pulling the boy to his feet with a tight grip to the back of his jacket. The purse hung from his fingertips, held out to the woman with a bright smile.
She gave Richard a look of pure relief and took her purse with both hands, holding it close to her, saying brightly, “Thank you so much Officer.” And if Rock had been wearing a hat, he would’ve tipped it to her, his smile all teeth as he nodded and said easily, “Just doing my job Mam.” He felt as if he should be walking into the sunset like a true hero but they were still in gray and gloomy NYC. He didn’t let that bother him though as he nodded once more to the woman, turned around and dragged the boy forward. They stepped towards the cruiser that was just pulling up to the curb, his friends finally having caught up.
He awoke with a smile on his lips and a deep breath drawn in through his nose, laughing at himself. Even his dreams were corny, he watched too many Westerns. He should start wearing a cowboy hat. With the smile still on his lips he turned to the side and yawned, reaching strong arms out to wrap around his wife’s waist and pull her close.
The sheets were soft and light against his skin, her body warm against his and he just lay there for a moment, cheek against her shoulder, eyes shut, just breathing. Then opening his eyes to mere slits he glanced at the clock glowing across the room and saw that he had woken up at the same time he always did, 5:30 AM, on the dot. Giving his wife a quick kiss to her bare arm he quickly climbed out of bed and headed for the shower.
Once he was dressed, bundled in sweats and a hat, preparing himself for the chill October air that he knew waited outside, he ran quietly down the stairs and to the kitchen. Chester, his five year old Boxer gave a tired yawn but was already on his feet and dancing excitedly even as Rock grabbed his leash and hooked it onto his harness. The house still quiet with his sleeping family, he opened the door and headed out for his morning run with Chester eagerly pulling him along.
Chapter 2
Jenny
He was sitting at her feet staring at her, head tipped to the side, eyes curious. Her legs were stretched out, ankles crossed, feet resting on the ottoman at the end of the seat. A book was open, her usual stance at night. The TV flickered pictures across the walls, the only sound in the small, one bedroom apartment. Brown eyes glanced up to watch the pictures, noting an Airedale with a big grin on its face flash by on the screen, then a cat cleaning its paws, then a goldfish swimming around in its bowl, looking bored.
Her eyes went back to her book, but her concentration was soon taken away as she noticed he was moving at her feet. Glancing away from the words on the page, she lifted an eyebrow and watched him carefully. Those big brown eyes were staring at her, black, jowly lips pulled down into that ever present frown. With a small smile she reached forward to scratch her pet Pug, Tock, on the head but stopped as those lips moved and he spoke.
“Ya know, the Butler did it.”
Blinking, she pulled her hand away and sat back, saying easily, “Do you find it fun to ruin every book I read?”
“Yes…”
Grinning at the Pug at her feet she shook her head and nudged him with her foot. He snorted and stretched as she picked up her book and continued to read, the room falling into the dim noise of the TV once more. After a few minutes she saw a flash of movement at her feet and lowered her book once more to see where Tock was going. But to her surprise a small gray cat was sitting there, watching her expectantly. Turning to glance at Tock she gestured towards the feline with her book and said distractedly, “Who’s that?”
“I’m Mittens…the neighbor’s cat.”
She watched as Tock’s lips spread into what could only be a Dog’s equivalent of a smile as he let out a bark of laughter and Jenny couldn’t help but join in. Mittens, it seemed like half the population of Cats in the world was named Mittens, how original. The Cat’s yellow eyes narrowed slightly as it gave a front paw a fleeting lick and let out a rumbling meow saying lightly, “My owner’s a 6 year old, give her a break.”
Holding back a bit of laughter again Jenny grinned and picked up her book once more, saying, “Sorry…” An easy silence drifted through the room as the three of them sat together, until Jenny glanced away from the page once more and spoke to the cat, asking lightly “So what are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
The voice that spoke now was different, neither Tock nor Mitten’s and her eyes flicked up to see a rather large crow perched on top of the TV. The image on the screen had stopped to be the four of them in the room, zeroing in on Jenny’s confused face. Her eyes moved away from the TV as she sighed with annoyance and said to the Crow, “Not really…no.”
The black bird gave a croak and flapped its wings noisily for a minute before taking flight to land on the arm of the chair. Jenny, for her part, tried hard not to flinch as the bird walked up the arm of the chair to stare at her with its beady black eyes. With another croak it settled its wings carefully and said in that same, sharp voice, “We’re here to help you.”
That got her attention and she put her book down, suddenly quite interesting in the conversation. Pursing her lips together she lifted a brow and leaned forward, towards the Crow, saying quietly “Oh…really?” Trying hard not to sound too intrigued she moved to rest a foot on her knee and put her hands on her leg, glancing at the three animals in the room, saying casually, “Help me with what?”
A new voice joined the crowd and Jenny looked up quickly to see a large but friendly German Shepard lying comfortably on the floor. Its pink tongue lolled from its long snout, big brown eyes staring right at her, Jenny surprised to find herself fighting back tears. It was Rhine, the family Dog when she was little. But he had been hit by a car all those years ago. He couldn’t be here. Though his words left her silent, confused as he stared right at her and said quietly but seriously, “With this…”
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.
An aggravated cry tore from her lips as she snapped awake. Big brown eyes opened to stare at the dark ceiling above her head. Fingers snapped out to slam her palm against the alarm clock, effectively hurling it to the floor. She waited for the comforting sound of cracking plastic but alas, none came. She was pretty sure the machine was made of titanium, since every time she tried to break it in her morning rage, it still persevered.
At least it had stopped beeping.
With a mumbled groan Jenny Denair sat up in bed and wiped fiercely at her eyes, ridding them of sleep and the tears that still stung them. That dream had been much more vivid than some of the others she had been having recently. And the sight of Rhine always upset her, even in sleep. Still, it had just been a dream. But now she was awake and it was already 5:30 AM, time to get up and head to work.
The alarm clock was kicked aside as covers were tossed away and soon the shower was running, warm water washing over her, helping to cleanse her body of any remaining grogginess. Minutes later she watched herself dress in the mirror, pulling on a simple black skirt, white button down and a tight blazer, quickly stepping in and fastening her black, strappy heels. A shake of her head sent blow dried brown curls tumbling across her shoulders and she gave her reflection a smile as she headed out of her small bedroom and into the next room where the kitchen and living room ran together.
Tock was sitting on the ottoman of the chair in her dream, watching her with tired but expectant eyes. She knew that look, sure, he had only been awake for about two seconds but his eyes still said, “What in the world took you so long, I’m hungry, feed me now.” But when wasn’t the Dog hungry?
With a sigh and a smile she walked over to the Dog and gave him a pat on the head. The Pug whined and sniffed at her hand as he hopped off the ottoman and followed her to the kitchen. Kibble tumbled into the bowl with little metallic clinks and Jenny crouched beside the Dog, petting his fur distractedly as she thought for a minute. She always had dreams like that, where he was talking to her. But what had been with the end of this one?
The Crow had said they were there to help her and then Rhine had said, “With this.” What did that even mean, with this? It was early and she was far too tired to really think about it since it made no comprehensible sense as far as she was concerned. With another sigh she gave Tock a loving scratch behind the ears and then kissed him goodbye saying quietly, “If ya figure out what “with this” means, make sure to tell me when I get home.”
The Dog snuffled sharply as it looked up from its food bowl and the look he gave her was so serious it was almost startling. Jenny stood there for a minute, half expecting the small Dog to talk, to tell her that he’d be sure to do that. But then the moment passed and she laughed it off, muttering, “Losin my mind” before kissing the dog once more and saying softly, “Bye baby” before grabbing her purse and rushing out the door.
Chapter 1
Kiara
The wind whispered past, blowing gently against her short black hair. She didn’t know how she got onto this rooftop or why. She just knew that she was here and for some reason soon, she would have to jump. To whatever end, to whatever reason, she wasn’t sure. But there was that deep feeling, the murmur in her mind, that it was what she had to do.
Dark brown eyes glanced across the grim sky, noting the storm clouds, the streaks of lightening flickering off in the distance but she wasn’t afraid. She just knew that when she jumped, everything would be alright, she would be safe. Brown eyes stared ahead, blinking slowly, studying the blank emptiness around her. Though she stood on the rooftop of a building, there was nothing else, just this building, her and an endless stretch of sky. Sneakers slid forward, scratching softly against the loose rocks scattered about as she stepped closer to the edge. She daren’t look down for fear of losing her nerve.
Another flicker of lightening and a crash of thunder made her flinch but still, her face was serene, peaceful as she stared ahead at the ever darkening sky. Again the wind blew past but she barely felt it. Though it seemed to whisper in her ear that now was the time, if she didn’t do it now, she would miss her chance.
One last glance was given to the empty air, feeling the solid roof beneath her and for a split second being afraid of falling, of death, of eternal darkness. But again that breath of wind that whispered to her, to run, to jump, to fly and she was moving. Her legs pumped as she ran, seeming to move in slow motion as the edge of the roof came closer and closer, but there was no fear, she knew that she was safe.
A small jump, her foot stood solid on the edge of the roof for an instant and then the air was rushing past her in a cold, vibrant wave. There was no stomach dropping horror of plummeting, there was a simple smile as she opened her eyes, saw the world around her and then shot forward into the vast emptiness, flying free as a bird.
Vrrr…Vrrr…Vrrr
A tired groan muttered past her lips as she flopped over onto her other side. Whatever that noise was, she wasn’t sure why it fit into her dream but, it was a dream after all, very hard to explain them away.
Vrrr…Vrrr…Vrrr
Again the noise, more insistent this time but she continued to do the dance of turning from side to side and burying her face in her pillow. She wasn’t going to wake up; she didn’t want this dream to end. But then the vrrr joined in a deafening duet with the ring tone of her cell phone, the tone bright, sunny, and annoying and its one purpose was to drag her from the depths of sleep. It did its job well.
She sat up and grabbed the offensive phone only to hit the snooze button and toss it back onto her dresser. With a tired groan she allowed herself to flop back onto her pillows and burrow deeper into her fleece sheets and big, warm comforter. But now hers wasn’t the only alarm blaring. There were others waking up as well. The incessant, monotonous beep of her Aunt's clock echoed through the thin walls and she could hear her Uncle climbing the stairs to get in the shower first since he left the earliest.
Though she wanted to just let herself fall back to sleep, she was tired enough that it would be easy, she knew that she couldn’t. It was a Wednesday, a stereotypical, work a day Wednesday, one of the worst days of the week. Her eyes threatened to close and she sighed letting herself revel in the warmth of her bed for one last moment before her phone started singing again.
Sleep heavy fingers fumbled with the black electronic device before she shut the alarm off completely and forced herself to sit up. Bleary brown eyes stared down at the floor for a long moment, her mind heavy and fogged. One blink, two, three later she yawned and managed to stretch herself to stand and shuffle over to her dresser. She heard the water snap on in the bathroom and knew that after her Father showered her Mother would go and then she’d be last. It gave her time to head downstairs to eat a quick breakfast. Maybe that would help wake her up.
One last fleeting glance was given to her nice, warm bed, wishing for the umpteenth time that she could just sleep and fall back into that dream. She could just spend the day in her own head, flying around with nothing to worry about. But nope, not today, reality called and she was an impatient mistress. So with another weary sigh Kiara Small tossed some clothes onto her bed, shut the dresser drawer and shuffled over to her door and down the hallway, hoping that today would at least go by quickly.
