Post by Cate on Jul 17, 2012 7:50:59 GMT -5
WARNING! MAY CONTAIN IDEOLOGICALLY SENSITIVE MATERIAL! (Especially in later posts.....) THERE IS DEATH IN THIS! DO NOT READ IF YOU CANNOT HANDLE PEOPLE DYING.
And for Alderan.... THERE IS NO SWEARING IN MY POST! ... SHOCKINGLY
~*~*~*~*
He exited through the front doors of the dilapidated orphanage that served as his home for nine years, and left it behind. He started walking in one direction but stopped; where would he go? Standing in the middle of the empty street, with his pack slung over one shoulder, he stared at a flying piece of paper. Thoughts, like the paper, swirled around in his head. Where was he supposed to go? He didn’t have any money to pay to stay anywhere. No one knew him to let him stay with them, either.
An old beggar man walked slowly on the side of the street, along buildings that were in shambles, looking for any dropped money. He thought that he found a coin and reached for it, only to find that it was a tooth. The old man stretched out his back to get the kinks out of it, when he spied the young man that was standing in the street. He smiled to himself, thinking that he may be able to get some money from a merciful soul, and started to make his way over to him, with an exaggerated limp on his left leg. He stopped suddenly when the young man smiled. The smile chilled him all the way down to his frail bones. The old man’s smile disappeared and he backed away from the young man as he started to laugh along with that smile of his.
The orphan continued to smile and laugh, even more so when he spied the old man’s reaction to him. His eyes followed him as he slowly crept away, back into a dark alley. His laughter gradually died down as he focused on his thoughts. Turning around, back in the direction that he had come from, he walked with a purpose and a new spring in his step, toward his destination.
* * *
He stood in front of the large mansion and looked at it for a long time. Thoughts of wonder, love and caring filled his mind, but ones of disgust, hatred, and of cats joined them. The bad took over the good and rage filled his entirety. His parents had given him away when he was 7 years old for no reason. They didn’t want to have to deal with a child that, in their opinion, wasn’t all there in his mind.
He stalked to the rear of the building and went straight for the servants’ entrance. He wondered if there were even any servants still here, now that they were no longer really needed. He set his pack down on the cobblestone walkway and searched for the hidden key. He looked under several large rocks, in a bush, under the small wrought-iron table and chairs that decorated the lawn, but he couldn’t find it. He stood up from his crouch after looking under the last chair leg and tried to remember where it was placed.
He couldn’t remember, but a feeling came to him and told him to check on top of the window frame. He walked over to it and reached his hand up to the top quickly. He felt around with his fingertips and came upon a small key that was kept in place with a bent nail. He slid it off of the nail, hurriedly, and put it into the lock.
It seemed that his assumption about there not being servants was correct, for the key barely moved in the rusted lock. He had to turn it quickly, and with much force, to get it open. He walked inside.
* * *
He made his way up the staircase with a jar of oil that he found in the kitchen and a lit candle in each hand. Once he reached the top, he walked over to the door that he knew held two people behind it. He opened it and stared at their sleeping forms. Agitation filled his mind as he watched them. Rushing over to the bed, he splashed the oil all over the man and the woman; they both woke with a start.
“Hello father, mother. Did you miss me?” he dropped the candle on the bed and it burst into flames.
And for Alderan.... THERE IS NO SWEARING IN MY POST! ... SHOCKINGLY
~*~*~*~*
He exited through the front doors of the dilapidated orphanage that served as his home for nine years, and left it behind. He started walking in one direction but stopped; where would he go? Standing in the middle of the empty street, with his pack slung over one shoulder, he stared at a flying piece of paper. Thoughts, like the paper, swirled around in his head. Where was he supposed to go? He didn’t have any money to pay to stay anywhere. No one knew him to let him stay with them, either.
An old beggar man walked slowly on the side of the street, along buildings that were in shambles, looking for any dropped money. He thought that he found a coin and reached for it, only to find that it was a tooth. The old man stretched out his back to get the kinks out of it, when he spied the young man that was standing in the street. He smiled to himself, thinking that he may be able to get some money from a merciful soul, and started to make his way over to him, with an exaggerated limp on his left leg. He stopped suddenly when the young man smiled. The smile chilled him all the way down to his frail bones. The old man’s smile disappeared and he backed away from the young man as he started to laugh along with that smile of his.
The orphan continued to smile and laugh, even more so when he spied the old man’s reaction to him. His eyes followed him as he slowly crept away, back into a dark alley. His laughter gradually died down as he focused on his thoughts. Turning around, back in the direction that he had come from, he walked with a purpose and a new spring in his step, toward his destination.
* * *
He stood in front of the large mansion and looked at it for a long time. Thoughts of wonder, love and caring filled his mind, but ones of disgust, hatred, and of cats joined them. The bad took over the good and rage filled his entirety. His parents had given him away when he was 7 years old for no reason. They didn’t want to have to deal with a child that, in their opinion, wasn’t all there in his mind.
He stalked to the rear of the building and went straight for the servants’ entrance. He wondered if there were even any servants still here, now that they were no longer really needed. He set his pack down on the cobblestone walkway and searched for the hidden key. He looked under several large rocks, in a bush, under the small wrought-iron table and chairs that decorated the lawn, but he couldn’t find it. He stood up from his crouch after looking under the last chair leg and tried to remember where it was placed.
He couldn’t remember, but a feeling came to him and told him to check on top of the window frame. He walked over to it and reached his hand up to the top quickly. He felt around with his fingertips and came upon a small key that was kept in place with a bent nail. He slid it off of the nail, hurriedly, and put it into the lock.
It seemed that his assumption about there not being servants was correct, for the key barely moved in the rusted lock. He had to turn it quickly, and with much force, to get it open. He walked inside.
* * *
He made his way up the staircase with a jar of oil that he found in the kitchen and a lit candle in each hand. Once he reached the top, he walked over to the door that he knew held two people behind it. He opened it and stared at their sleeping forms. Agitation filled his mind as he watched them. Rushing over to the bed, he splashed the oil all over the man and the woman; they both woke with a start.
“Hello father, mother. Did you miss me?” he dropped the candle on the bed and it burst into flames.
and that kills me