Chapter 1

This is taken from Raven't point of view.

 

Two hours later and the tears still wouldn't stop. The pieces of my bashed to no end guitar lay scattered in front of me. I stared into the gray overcast sky, the birds were out, maybe 7 of them. Their swift bodies I envied as they dropped headfirst to the ground, then in the last second spread their wings speeding upwards. The feeling I had inside of my veins. The way it must feel to weightlessly create a world inside the sky, one that wouldn't shatter. They dipped and glided. Slicing the air with tireless wisdom. A depth to their irratically patterened rythms. I needed to be with them, one of them. Out from under these suffocating clouds, into a world I could create.

 

The darkness beginning to creep in around the park bench jolted me from my thoughts. And there I was again back on earth. My guitar still lay there, pieces everywhere. As I stood I kicked a piece away frustrated. Not just at it but everything. Nothing made sense anymore, especially this. I hadn't been ordinary in awhile now, doing crazy things, and the dreams... oh the dreams. Perhaps this was the worse though. My baby, the golden wood didn't gleam up at me when I mesmerizingly plucked the soft strings with my once tender fingers. That was no more. My mind was troubled. I couldn't play it anymore. It just came out loud, like I was banging at it. And today I finally broke it. I bashed it to the end of time and back. I watched as the broken piece skidded across the sidewalk, it tumbled off the edge. Beginning to look away a flash of white in the corner of my eye caught my attention. Curiously I checked the back of the smooth wood. There was a piece of paper, like a little note tacked to the inside of it. I used my fingernails to pull the tack out. It pulled the tips of my nails up when I did, hurting them.

 

When the note was finally spread out in my fingers, like a fortune cookie slip of paper, the only thing it said was- Bopoh. And this word was all I needed to know it was ok. Somehow even though I had crushed to pieces the only thing left from my real childhood, I no longer regreted it. Something slipped into place on the inner parts of my mind and heart, and it was ok now. I walked away and never would look back.

 

Walking down the abandoned streets headed for home nothing filled my mind more then the thought of a good rest. Each of the street lights had been flickering on with their incessant droning, even collecting a few lazy bugs already, floating around and around in their monotonous routines. To either be zapped or die soon enough. The eerie orange and green light around me framed the empty streets, and houses alongside the roads. Noises came from the houses, televisions playing too loudly, children screaming as they ran through the house playing, dogs barking at the children. It was almost overwhelming in the strangest way. Dragging my feet forward towards home with urging needs to sleep but none for actually being there. Smells filtered into my nose. Not the smell of cooking food or laundry detergent filtering through the air. But memory ones. From long long ago. They were comforting, but there wasn't a place I could locate them with. As I neared home there was just one thing that was off about the cheerful street. Mine. My home. Yells could be heard inside, the porch light wasn't on to greet me. Only one light lit up the big old dark two story house. The living room light where my parents were screaming at each other. A raindrop fell in front of me. Melting into the cooling sidewalk. As I came closer and closer to my home more rain began to fall. Heavier and heavier until it was a heavy downpour. I opened the door walking past my parents yelling, about bills or how they couldn't stand each other. Something. It was always something. Though, none of it phased me, the most I felt was t ired. I stared at my mother's arms thrown out angrily expressing the hatred inside her squinted hazel eyes. My mother was... she was gorgeous. He long brown hair falling around her face in curls framing her sharp features. Softening them. Her eyes had this dreamy twinkle in them. One worth falling into. Except when she was angry. And It had been a long time since that dreamy look was in her eyes.

 

My father loomed over her, cradling his face in one hand as he sent the other other blocky hand through his carrot red hair. So many times had I seen his fingers go through his now on end hair out of frustration. Everything once had been picture perfect, nothing was falling apart as it was now. Like me, and them, like the house and yard. No one cared. No one had cared in so long now. It was like someone pulled the plug. Long before we had the chance to play.

 

The closer and closer I got to resting the further I was pitched into a black world of confusion. I slipped by my parents and stumbled into the stairs. My feet abruptly finding the staircase. I leaned my body into the wall as my head span. It felt like being drunk all over. Only once had I been drunk, something I did not want to repeat. It was a mistake anyway. The one and only time had I tried coming out of my shell, and it ended badly. Something I would never do. I remembered that night vividly. The way the hot damp tile felt under my knees, the hardness bruising my knees and they slammed back down after heaving the throw up out. I remembered the way it tasted, how I couldn't get it out of me fast enough. The only comfort was the coolness from the porclein on my hot clammy skin while hugging it. And Owen, holding my hair back and talking me through everything. He had been the only person to ever know I was drunk.

I was sweating now as I felt my way up the stairs. My mind felt stressed and blood pulsed through my head stressing my eyes. I stumbled through my bedroom door slamming it behind me. Then just crash landed into my big soft bed. I didn't bother to change out of my school uniform or clothes. My body hit the bed hard. Curling into my ball squeezing my eyes shut I just wished the room would stop spinning. I knew what was coming. It was the third time this week. It had always happened since I could remember, but this was different. It was happening more and more. THe third time this week. It was frightening and I wouldn't tell anyone. I hadn't even told Owen. Maybe I was going mad, I wasn't sure. The world with all the noises and sounds and smells around drifted as I floated into a dark sleep.

 

Screams echoed in my mind. Voices... ones coming from every direction. Bright ligths shone down on me in this sleep. Crying voices of children irritated my ears worse then the naseua felt. My body was laying there. I was quiet. There was movement, I could feel it, but everything just faded away outside of the bright overhead light. A draining feeling was inside. Like it was slowly being taken away. Then everything became like a scratched dvd. Skipping pieces, only clips being shown. THe main thing standing out that I couldn't let go was the little boy. His blond hair was matted over on one side his green eyes nearly seemed to be glowing. And all i could do was run to him. Squeeze him into a hug. I could even envision the words, promising me it was ok, that we'd see each other again. Then everything started to fade. All these dreams and thoughts, feeling more like memories slipping away like pieces of paper in the wind. As I was about to grasp them they always stayed out of reach. Then all I knew was a floating through a blackness. For the longest time just stale blackness surrounding my body. Like a vacuum sealed world

Then I felt softness. Like floating, way way above anything I knew. The highness piercing me. Surrounded by clouds unable to open my eyes but a small slit at a time. Catching glimpses of rolling airless softness. Then I just couldn't breathe. Suffocation. I clawed at the blanketing around me, ant what I couldn't do. Feeling damp and wet but i wasn't drowning. But like I was trapped inside a rug. Steam filled, suffocatingly. Wrapped around me. Everytime I moved it would tighten and everytime I tried to think it would bash those thoughts. Cracking them. The life and light inside felt as if I was dying.

 

Then I awoke. Mildly insane. Everything seemed more real then it had ever before. I stared across the wall from where I lay. Then sitting on the edge of my bed leaning on the caps of my knees. I walked to the window, hardly able to see out the pouring rain streaming down the window. I made out that my mother's vehicle wasn't in the driveway. It was almost 1 in the morning. The rain poured harder and harder and the desperation, anger and fright grew stronger inside. Not anywhere inside I could place. But it was somewhere deep, angry, like the life inside of me spread everywhere it was illuminating and tearing down the thing I knew nothing of. Then I snapped. I just snapped. I ran towards my door, watching my own hand and arm extend out in front of me for that doorknob. I was shaking. I jerked the door open and ran, so fast through the hall and down those steps. The light was still on and my father sat there leaning down with his head in his hands again. I didn't pay any attention to him as I soared by. He screamed out my name but I flew into the pouring rain.

 

I felt the turmoil inside, and out. And ran. Ran into the rain, without caring. Without thinking. It pelted my body, my mind. But felt so right. The running I couldn't stop, it felt right. My breath was busting out from inside of me. And the void so deep inside of my I couldn't place. The rain was chilling and blindly I ran through it, knowing where I didn't know, but I ran. The sound of it all around me. The depth inside of its message. Filling my mind. Becoming my one and only thought.

 

I have to find the rain.

 

Those words filtering through my mind like a plague or illness over and over. Becoming an ailment. The rain was about me and yet I searched for it. And then I was on my knees. Sinking into the wet grass, slick and muddy, soaking into my clothes. I was tired. Tired of caring, caring about riles, about doing what I was supposed to. Being perfect.

 

Who am I?

 

Pushing my black hair away from my face I realized I might've gone mad. This was it. I let the rain soak my already soaked body. And the dreams. Where they memories? What were the voices? I pressed my hands roughly into my face, the voices and thoughrs still fresh inside of my mind. The wind blew the rain falling harder and harder into my body. The rhythmic sound of the rain filling my exhausted ears. And then I screamed, screamed out and then into sobs. Over and over. Like a relief. I knew who I was but at the same time didn't Everything was but wasn't. I knew what was happening but at the same time there was nothing happening. Fear was creeping about inside of me, ready to explode, but the fear was almost good. Almost as if I liked it. The confusion ate at me like a cancer. I felt the deepness inside of my world but couldn't undcerstand. The cold harsh feeling was rottenly soothing. The thoughts and meaning bumbling around puncturing my already ripped inside.

 

I don't know how I feel, what I feel.

 

My chest caved inwards. It was so hard. My heart thumped and I felt my body drift into the deepest parts of my mind. I needed answers even if they didn't exist. Inside I saw glimpses of things I knew were big. Something warm, harmful but not. My breathing was heavy as I opened my eyes. Suddenly exhausted. Suddenly tired. I stood slowly. Knowing now, I had to go. I had to find a way back. Finding my bearings I headed for the only safe place I knew. Owen.

 

His room was around the back of the house, having his own door to the outside, occupying the unoccupied basement. I knocked softly on the metal door. He came to it in checkered pajama pants and a Led Zepplin t-shirt. His eyes were tired and his hair was standing straight up all around his head.

 

"Owen", I was whimpering.

 

"Raven"! "What happened"?

 

He pulled me in out of the rain dragging me inside. He was only a few inches taller then me and really skinny. He had brown/black curly hair, brown eyes, and pasty pale skin. He had glasses and the whole nerd thing going on. I walked into his bedroom. Full of video games, music, and posters. He ran to turn his stereo down and got me a towel. Owen had loved me as long as I could remember. I loved him too, but his kind of love was deeper then the friendship I had for him. He only had told me once how he felt. I had to explain to him the void. After that Owen had tried dating other girls, but always just ended coming back to me. So we did everything together, as friends, but everything. Even prom. I hated the idea of prom, it was overrated but I went with him anyway. Only because he wanted to go and there was no one else he wanted to take. It was an interesting night, catching a few weird looks. But he didn't want to miss his senior freakin prom. And I had ended up having a little fun.

 

He got me inside and let me take a shower taking my clothes upstairs to be cleaned. He gave me some of his to wear for now. When I came out from the shower he had cleared his bed off and set up a mattress on the floor beside it and sat watching tv. When I came out he smiled at me and motioned for me to sit on the bed beside him. I did, and we leaned against the wall to watch tv. He was my best friend, even if the void could never be filled, he was still my best friend. I sighed in relief as I sat there, it had been a long long day. He didn't bother me about what was wrong, he knew I didn't want to talk about it. I playfully leaned all of my weight into him and he leaned back. I was so confused and lost, tired. But right now, I didn't really care.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

A powerful opening chapter. You put a lot of thoughts into this chapter. I like the many situations and the storyline. I like the use of memory and thoughts to make this a entertaining chapter. A excellent chapter.
Coyote