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TEEN: - Complete Cronus' short works

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Figured I'd make a thread to post all my short fictions. These aren't ongoing works and are in no way related to each other. However I do enjoy writing them and didn't feel it was a good idea to make a separate thread for each. These are also posted on an art website which isn't fond of Literature but still supports it, hopefully you lovely readers will enjoy them more! Many of them are based on emotions raised by listening to a particular song. Information about the song and the intended mood will be in the contents link.

TABLE OF CONTENTS
The Epitaph(Song: Eye of the Storm)(Artist: Bliss n Eso)(Intended mood: Reflective)
Rain(Song: Rain)(Artist: Breaking Benjamin)(Intended mood: Grieving)
The Well
 
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THE EPITAPH

I could barely move, my disbelief stood between my mind and my muscles, but slowly; gently, I placed the phone back on the base. I blinked once before stepping back from the phone and turning on my rear heel. Right foot forward, my legs began to move, though I could not control them. Left foot forward, the muscles shook, and I could not stop it. Every footfall was an age of it's own, a year of my life crunching into the wooden floorboards as I moved to the screen door. My hand came to rest on the handle, looking out at the street outside, before I pushed down and away. The door swung open, and my now steadied legs bore my forth, each step silent to my stunned ears. My Wife and Daughter stood before me, while my little girl played with her friend, her mother blissfully watered the garden.

She was beautiful you know, my wife, as beautiful watering the lawn as the first day I laid eyes on her. As beautiful as the moment she gracefully glided down the carpet toward me, the white fabric trailing behind her, and her stunning face shaded by the white veil. A veil she never wore again. How could I have damaged such a beautiful work of art, as I stood on the grass, staring at her, disbelief filled my thoughts. I'd made some poor choices, I'd struck her, more than once in the past. I had to have been a monster to even imagine raising my hand against such a beautiful and loving woman. My lips twitched, sliding up at the corners as she looked over and smiled at me, flicking the hose playfully in my direction without wetting me. Her smile, the most amazing thing, I could remember her most sincere and exhausted smile. She'd cooed and smiled down at the little bundle in her arms, our daughter's eyes had had difficulty opening, and her arms searched the air around her for something I could never know. I remember smiling that moment too, and every time I thought of it it made me smile.

I turned my head, finding my little girl on the lawn; happily shooting at the boy next door with an awkwardly big yellow water gun. She laughed as he turned his on her, covering her face with her hand and smiling. I smiled and called to her, I asked her to come to me. When she asked to keep playing, I agreed, lowering myself to sit on the grass. My legs stretched out across the grass in front of me, watching as she hid behind a tree and pumped the little plastic thing on the underside of the gun. When she swung out from behind the tree, I imagined a thousand more trees filling the street, with shrubs and bodies littered amongst them. My little girl was a man, firing thunderous gunfire at something behind a tree off in the distance. I scrunched my eyes and opened them again, the street had returned and my daughter was once again hosing the neighbour. I inhaled deeply as a new song came on the radio inside, it's gently melody soothed me. I called to her again.

My little girl, already twelve, so very proud of her long blond hair but never afraid to get it dirty, came trotting over to me when I called her again. From the corner of my eyes I'd seen my wife turn to look at me. When my daughter, growing so quickly, reached me; I reached my arms up and pulled her down into a hug. She squealed in surprise but happily hugged back as we sat on the grass in silence. No, not silence, I wish it'd been silence; but a car driving by drowned out the radio, and the shouting of kids in the street overrode the gentle patter of water from the hose. Without letting her go, I said without turning my head "Daddy loves you sweety, you know that right?" She nodded.

"I love you too daddy" She smiled and let go, I released her and she sat on the grass beside me. When I fell backward to lay on the grass, staring up at the sky, she fell beside me and looked up. We didn't say a word as the little black dot moved across the otherwise pristine blue.

As the wind blew across my shirt, my wife's beautiful shadow loomed over me, blocking my view of the little black dot. She smiled down at us, shaking her head and holding the off hose over us. Just as she started to tease us, I reached up and grabbed her, pulling her down onto the soft green carpet beside me. Her infectious laugh spread to my daughter and I as we all lay on the grass. The first time I'd heard her laugh like that, I'd been sitting across the table from her, it was our second date and I had made some smart-assed comment. I could never remember what I'd said, her quick chuckle that spread to a laugh had distracted me, I could not even remember what the place around the table looked like; the memory was almost nothing but her laughter. Years later I remember sitting with her between my legs, her head leaned back against my chest and my back against the base of the lounge was we stared at the fire. The snow outside couldn't get to us on that warm wooden floor, lit only by the crackling fire. She'd reached up and kissed me that day, it wasn't the first time she'd told me she wanted a baby, but it was the first time the thought came to me without a word.

My little girl pointed up at the little black dot, when she asked what it was I shrugged, perhaps it was a bird? I already knew, but she wouldn't understand. I rolled over and swung up to sitting on my knees looking down at the two most important people in my life. Of all things to think of, I found myself regretting that I'd never cooked for them. She'd always handled the cooking, I was always too tired, but I should have at least once made the effort. Without looking at either of them, I smiled and whispered "I love you". My daughter laughed, blushed and rolled over. My beautiful wife smiled, reaching up and pulling me down to lock her lips against mine. The kiss was wonderful, but just as I relaxed to enjoy it, she let me go, lifting herself to whisper in my ear. She asked what was wrong.

"Nothing's wrong" I smiled, forcing the pain down, hiding the lies and pain as best I could. Her green eyes gazed up into mine, searching me; she knew. I was certain, she knew not only that I had lied, but I think she even knew why. Before either could move away, I grabbed one of my beautiful lights in each hand, pulling them to sit up and hug me. Their heads rested on my shoulders and looked out at the street behind them. I would not let them go, I would not release them, and it was nice. This was the most serene I'd ever been, in all my years of life; this was the most at peace I had ever been, with the only two people I loved wrapped around me as we sat on the cool, soft, grass.

I watched as the black dot fell, plummeting from the sky toward a larger structure down town. Though I closed my eyes, I could still see the magnificent flash of light and feel the sudden crash against me. But as I felt the light and saw the wave, it was already over. I would never hold them again, I would never do anything again, but of everything I could have done.

I was happiest, with how I ended.
 
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RAIN

In the shadows of the window she could see her own face staring back at her. Sitting on the cushioned bench within the alcove of the window she glared unfocused through the glass and out at the darkness. Her feet curled back that she was almost coiled where she sat staring, her hand pressed against the cold glass, the only thing between her and the thick fog beyond. On the other side of the glass sat trails and droplets of water that flowed down, symbols of the greater rainfall beyond. The woman didn't turn at the sound of the whine behind her, hypnotized by the gentle rush of the cold rain outside. A muzzle lay across her foot, staring out the window with her. The dog's tongue flicked hungrily as it sought what the human was so intently looking at. Something he could not see, because neither could she. It was a thunderous and heavy fall storm that night, you could barely hear yourself speak over the sound of the water crashing down. But people can always hear what they need to, no matter how much it hurts.
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The cold gentle water lifted slowly from her soaked shirt, joining every other droplet that rose gradually around her. A quiet, muted humm of the water grouping together and drawing up into the air, falling away from the asphalt and grass, into the dark and rolling sky. Her eyes could not focus, clouded by a rippling pool of water on their surface, beneath the clenched lids. A drop on her shirt pulled away, gliding gently up to and across her cheek, past her open mouth and up into her eye, soaking in the pain of it's presence. Gentle droplets of water glided across her skin, running across the pain stitching every inch of her face, before lifting randomly off of her, and drifting back toward the sky.

Her face barely changed as she lowered it down to press her cheek against the side of the person laying in her arms. Liquid covered their face, much of it seeping in to points across them, but a little still lifting away to join the rest that rose around the two. Slowly she rocked herself forward and back on her knees, pressed into the muddy grass, her dress ruined by the thick dark blood all across it. Lifting her head away from the other, her hand moved to the cheek, drops of water pulling from her hand, from the person in her arms, from the road and the grass; drops of water rising up all around them. She screamed, dying off to repeated mutterings of 'no', as she shook the body in her arms, her hand tracing the cheek sweetly. The arm hanging on the grass rose like the water around and upon them, lifting to stroke her cheek with the back of the fingers. As the lips covered in sickly red blood spoke their final words, drops of water from the face rose up, gliding into her eyes where they hung for a moment before drawing her pain down within her. The fingers brushed weakly against her cheek, pulling away gradually as they became just the tips, still running across her wet skin. Slowly the hand lowered, it's partner sliding a thick black glove onto it, before they both returned to their owners side. She wanted to kiss the person laying on the grass in front of her, wanted a whole life she knew was ebbing away to stay, but the water continued to rise around them. Their eyes flickered painfully and slow, water rising out and into the swarm of droplets around them, while others straight up and into her eyes.

Gentle trails of water coalesced and lifted from the motorcycle nearby, the thin liquid running easily across it's crinkled and warped surface. The blood soaked jacket of the person in her arms willingly offered the water that soaked it back into the air in gentle droplets, rising away. The broken and bleeding person on the ground, forced a weak lip-curled smile for her. "I'm okay" they said, while a large white helmet began to roll across the grass nearby. As the water lifted from her drenched and heavy hair, the helmet began to bounce across the ground, cracks vanishing on the occasional upward bounce. Her hand moved from holding their cheek, snatching the white helmet as it hurtled through the air and the droplets toward them. Blood on the visor marked the face as she grabbed it in both hands, nose sniffling as drops of water raced up her cheeks and into her eyes. The water all around them; the grass, the bike, her kin and clothes, lifted faster into the air. Shaking her head she slid the helmet back onto the other's head, wriggling it as it refused to return to place.

As the white helmet slid back on, parts of the person's cheek and jaw snapped back into place as it passed. The black screen that covered the person's face looked to wear a spider web of fractures. Blood rolled up the helmet, tracing red streaks as water across the surface coalesced and rose into the air among them, the rose red liquid seeped into the splits among the dark screen below her eyes. The woman could barely see the helmet as water filled her eyes, rising up from the ground beneath her to join the rippling pools. Her clenched teeth pulled open in a heart wrenching scream as she cradled the body in her arms, terrified.

Her arms shook as they lowered to the ground, resting the body upon the grass. Quickly her arms darted out from underneath the person, moving up such that one held a shoulder and another rested on the person's hip. The water all around them rose from the grass, the road, their bodies and the bike; drifting away into the clouds above. Her body swung upward, knees straightening as she fell up and backward to her feet. Her right foot landed last, a stride behind her. Her left foot passed it, moving backward at a sprint as she was thrown running backward. The screen door to the small house swung open at her approach, open fully in time for her to pass through it as she slowed her pace backward.

Her hand outstretched, the screen hurtling back to her. She grabbed the handle and slammed it shut in front of her, before she slowed to a hesitant stride back into the hallway. Gradually she returned to a confused walk, turning the corner of the hallway behind her. The woman turned to face the bathroom only moments before a loud, mechanical and slightly sickening crash rang through the house. Her furrowed expression eased to a warm smile, when she heard a peculiar skidding sound, followed by a frightened bark.
 
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THE WELL

Let's call her Jane, Jane Doe will do. She's nothing special I'm sure, just another person walking from place to place. Nothing but part of the backdrop for your life, but what if something happened to her? Would you notice? Are you sure? We shall watch, as Jane goes about her daily life; moving from place to place, doing things that seem to carry the world to her and those around her. And they do, the weight of everything she does is real and has a real impact on the world. Until one day, Jane fell down a well.

She didn't see it coming, that's for certain, but it was always there. Every day she passed through the large empty field, carrying everything she needed to do, until one day the weight of it all was too much and she broke through the thin seal and fell tumbling into the darkness below. The walls of the shaft, wider than she could reach from either side, were lined with bricks filled with mortar and moss. The water at the bottom of the well was deep, perhaps endless? For a moment, Jane simply floated there, bobbing on the surface of the deep cold water, looking around at the stone walls. Far above, well out of reach, she could see the circular light of the sky; a ring of blue in the eternal black. The hole was wider than Jane, she could float on her back and not touch the sides, but it was so tight at the same time. Never had she felt so constrained, so restricted. It felt to her as if the walls were pressing in on her, no matter how much she tried to rationalize that they weren't. Jane was alone. Endless water beneath. Peerless darkness above. Walls closing in on her. She couldn't breathe, but she wasn't drowning. Couldn't see, but she wasn't blind.

Jane could only think of one thing, She was trapped down there in that hole. Clawing uselessly at the bricks around her, pulling herself from the water and dragging herself up the wall. The bricks seemed to cut at Jane, slicing her fingers and her legs as she desperately struggled to pull herself up. When she grabbed some moss it pulled free, sending Jane tumbling back down into the dark water. Again and again Jane tried, each time moving less and less as she grew more and more tired. Eventually she gave up, resolved herself to floating on the surface in the darkness. On her last attempt to pull herself from the wall, a small rock crumbled from the brick and into her hand. Jane pressed the rock back where it came from and simply lay on the surface of the water. It was dark, it was cold, and Jane was alone. She couldn't even pull herself from the water anymore. Jane was useless.

Days passed, as Jane struggled to stay above the surface of the still and silent abyss. She was so alone, no-one would be able to hear her. In a desperate plea, Jane took the stone from the wall and scratched some simple words on her prison; "Jane was here". Before returning the stone to it's home. Jane was starving, always in need; always feeling the pain of her hunger, but unable to satiate it. No matter what she did, the pain of hunger and loneliness never faded. She could sink? Jane could sink below the surface, let the darkness and the solitude claim her. But she was scared, there might still be hope? Someone might still save her. But Jane didn't really believe that. After all, no-one cared about her.

The ring of light had gotten further away, it was smaller in the expanse of darkness. The more Jane looked up at it, longed for it, the smaller and further away it became. Weakly she grabbed at the wall, half-heartedly yearning to pull herself up, pull herself out of the hole. But she grabbed moss, tearing it from it's resting place as she slumped back into the darkness, her legs and hands being sliced at by the wall as she fell. In the fading, almost non-existent light, Jane saw something; words carved on the wall. They were close to her own, and had been hidden by the moss. "John was here" they read, fresh as the day they were cut. Someone had been here before her. Had he been rescued? or was he part of the darkness now, the shade that devoured her? Jane felt the weight of the cold air upon her, and to shake the sense of dread, she pulled her carving stone from the wall and wrote something. Below the newly revealed letters she carved "John will be missed". Never before had she felt as alone as right this moment. After Jane returned the stone to the brick, staring around at her prison, she noticed something that confused her greatly. Below what she had carved, below her response to John's grave, Jane saw new words. Words she had not carved, "You're wrong"

In the weeks that followed, Jane pulled more and more moss from the walls, finding more and more carvings around her. "Peter was here"
"Michael was here"
"Abigail was here"
"Iz was here"
"Will was here"
The carvers spoke to each other, at first their words seemed cold and distant. But as she scratched responses into the stone around her, she could see more replies to what she said. As she scratched at them, responding to the words forgotten on the walls around her, Jane forgot her hunger. Though she was cold and isolated, locked from the world around her. Jane was not alone. The scratchers asked about her. They wanted to know what her life was like, about the people outside the hole she was in. These marks on the wall cared. These marks wanted to know about her. So she told them. Jane spilled her life on the walls of the well around her, every mark growing brighter in the light of the entry. And then one day she found it. After weeks and months of writing, she found a message by John, hidden behind a brick she pried from the wall when she tore at the moss. "There is a way out" It said. With renewed vigor she climbed, reaching as high as she could, but not quite meeting the edge. Every time she fell, there were words she'd not seen before. They were encouraging her. Jane's friends wrote for her, urging her onward and upwards. In frustration she lashed out, scratching at the rock beside John's cryptic message. HOW? She smashed against the wall. Floating away she stared, awaiting the reply. With baited breath Jane watched as simple letters ground themselves into the stone. "ask"

Jane was stunned, she looked up to the top of the hole. It was so simple. Why hadn't she thought of it? The more she wondered at her stupidity, the further the entrance fell. For a moment it had seemed closer than ever before, but now it was retreating again. Opening her lungs, Jane screamed. Screamed for help, Screamed for someone to save her. She didn't notice the writing on the wall. She didn't watch as thousands of notes scribbled themselves around her. Some saying 'louder', others 'don't give up'. Every word of encouragement... Until they all melted away. All the words were gone, and six faces peered down at her. Six people above Jane, looked down into the well where she floated. All together they lowered a rope, a small knotted rope that only went half way down the pit toward her. Jane was heartbroken, it wasn't long enough. Those people couldn't save her. Yes they could. They could save her, but Jane would have to help them. Grabbing onto the slick stone brick wall, she climbed. Her prison cutting at her as she pulled herself higher and higher, until she was able to grab the knotted line.

When Jane's hand wrapped around the cord, Twelve strong arms began to pull as one. Six people lifting her, as Jane climbed the brick wall of the well. Pulling her arms over the edge of the hole, she felt as John and Abby grabbed her. Every bit of effort she gave to pulling out, they gave to help her. When Jane was free, she stood among her friends and smiled, looking around at a field of hundred of holes.
"Why can't we save them?" Jane asked, hearing the splashing of people far below.
"Because they have to save themselves. Like you did."
 
Please note: The thread is from 11 years ago.
Please take the age of this thread into consideration in writing your reply. Depending on what exactly you wanted to say, you may want to consider if it would be better to post a new thread instead.
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