blackemerald
Well-Known Member
Backstory time!
This came into being from my cosin's seventh birthday party. His parent's did what they did every year: Pizza and a movie. When we were heading back home my mom was unforntunate enough to run over a rabbit. My poor cousin cried for hours. Afterwards I got an idea based loosely on the events that happened that day. And here it is. Enjoy!
It happened on Blasé’s birthday party, the day she turned five years old.
“Can we go in the tubes, please mommy?” She was having his birthday party at a pokemon carnival that had wandered into town. Having never been to a carnival she was in total awe, abandoning her mother to explore this gigantic playground. All her favorites were there, the magician Kazoo, Adam the camper and his faithful Aipom. Her favorites by far were the teleursas, four teddiursa’s that sang along in the happy land of glooblyglob and had televisions for tummies. It took a threat of receiving no ice-cream at home to drive Blasé back to her mother.
Her mother smiled. “Okay, pumpkin, but take care of Syraon. He’s not as fast as you are.”
These were the last words her mother ever said to her.
Blasé didn’t have to be told, though. She was a whole month older than he was, and he wasn’t even going to kindergarten next year. He had silky black hair and a very sweet smile. Blasé had dark hair too, but her eyes were violet. Just like topaz, mommy always said.
As they climbed through the tubes she kept glancing back at him, and when they got to a long row of vinyl-padded steps, slippery and easy to slide off of, she held out a hand to help him up. Syraon beamed at her, his tilted green eyes shining with adoration. When they had both crawled to the top, Blasé let go of his hand.
She was heading toward the spider web, a large room composed entirely of rope and net. Every so often she glanced through a fish-bowl window in one of the tubes and saw her mother waving at her from below. But then another mother came to talk to hers and Blasé stopped looking. Grown-ups never seemed to talk and wave at the same time.
She concentrated on getting through the tubes, which smelled like old socks. She pretended she was a rabbit in a maze, also eying Syraon on the way until they got to the spider web. It was far at the back of the climbing structure. There were no other kids were around, big or little, and almost no noise. A white rope with knots at regular intervals stretched itself higher and higher, leading to the web itself.
“Okay, you stay here, and I’ll go up and show you how to do it,” she said to Syraon. This was a fib. The truth was Blasé didn’t think Syraon could make it up. It was simple logic. Girls were better climbers than boys.
“No, I don’t want you to go without me,” Syraon said. There was a touch of anxiety in his voice.
“It’s only going to take a second,” Blasé said. She knew what she was afraid of, and added, “No big kids are going to push you.”
Syraon still looked doubtful. “Don’t you want ice cream cake when we get back to my house?” Blasé said thoughtfully.
It wasn’t even a veiled threat. Syraon looked confused, then sighed heavily and nodded. “Okay, I’ll wait.”
Those were the last words she heard him say.
She climbed the rope. It was even harder that she thought it would be, but when she got to the top it was wonderful. The whole world was a moving mass of squiggly netting. She had to hang on with both hand to keep her balance and try to curl her feet around the rough quivering lengths of cable. She could feel the air and sunlight as she laughed with exhilaration and bounced, looking at the colored plastic tubes all around her.
When she looked back down for Syraon, he was gone.
Blasé’s stomach tensed. He had to be there. He promised to wait. But he's not there. She could see the entire padded room below the spider web from here, and it was empty.
Okay, he must have gone back through the tubes. Blasé made his way, staggering and swaying from one handhold to another until she got to the rope. Then she climbed down quickly and stuck her head in a tube, blinking into the darkness.
“Syraon?” Her voice was a muffled echo. There was no answer and what she could see at the end of the tube was empty. “Syraon!”
Blasé was getting a very bad feeling in her stomach. Inside her head she heard her mother’s words swimming inside her head. Take care of Syraon. But she hadn’t taken care of him, and he could be anywhere by now, lost in the giant structure, maybe crying, maybe getting shoved by big kids. Maybe even going to tell her mother. That was when she saw the gap in the padded room.
It was just big enough for a four-year old or a very slim five-year old to squeeze through. A space between two cushiony walls that lead to the outside. Blasé knew immediately that it was where Syraon had gone. It was like him to take the quickest way out. He was probably on his way to her mother now.
Blasé was a very slim five-year old. She wriggled through the gap, only sticking once. Then she was outside, breathless in the dusty shade. She was about to head out to the front of the climbing structure when she noticed the tent flap fluttering. The tent was made of shiny vinyl and its red and yellow stripes were much brighter than the plastic tubes. The loose flap swayed melodically in the wind and Blasé saw that anyone could just lift it and walk inside.
Syraon wouldn’t have gone in there, she thought. It wouldn’t be like him at all. But deep inside Blasé knew the truth. She stared at the flap, hesitating, smelling dust and popcorn in the air. I’m brave; she told himself, and slided forward. She pushed on the tent beside the flap to widen the gap, and she stretched his neck and peered inside.
It was too dark to see anything, but the smell of popcorn was getting stronger... Blasé moved farther and farther until she was actually inside the tent. When her eyes adjusted she realized she wasn’t alone.
There was a tall man in the tent, covered in a dark trenchcoat with a hood obscuring his facial features. When orange tentacles protruded out of the coat in all directions, Blasé let loose with a scream. The man didn’t seem to notice because he had a grasp of something, and his head bent down to it.
Blasé suddenly realized what the man was doing and she knew that grown-ups had lied when they said that monsters and ogres weren’t real.
The tall thing had Syraon, and was eating him.
For a moment Blasé was frozen. The whole world had changed and everything had seemed like a dream. Then she heard someone screaming and with frightful certainty realized it was her. Then the thing looked at her.
He lifted his head and looked. Immediately she knew this face was going to haunt her forever. She caught a glimpse of it, three horns striking out from the sides of his head. And his eyes. Empty. Cold. Soulless. She ran then. It was wrong to leave Syraon, but she was too scared to stay. She wasn’t brave; he was a baby, but she couldn’t help it. She was still screaming as she turned around and darted through the flap in the tent. She half-expected someone to help her now, to shelter her away from that thing. But all anyone ever saw was a blonde man following after Blasé.
Blasé’s head and shoulders lunged outside and saw the plastic red tubes rising above her, but just as she noticed this a large hand latched onto her and stopped her before starting to drag her backwards.
In all the confusion, the tearing and the biting, she saw an image break into the sunlight. My mommy. Her mother was coming around the corner of the climbing structure. She’d heard Blasé screaming.
Her mother’s eyes were big and her mouth open, moving fast. She was coming to save Blasé.
“Mommeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” Blasé screamed, and then she was back inside the tent. The thing tossed her to one side the way a person would throw away a piece of rubbish. Blasé landed hard and felt a pain that would have normally made her cry. Now she hardly felt it at all. She was starting at Syraon, who lay on the ground next to her.
Syraon looked strange. His body was like a rag doll, arms and legs flopped out. His skin was white. His eyes were staring straight at the ceiling.
There were two huge slits in his throat, each drenched with blood.
Blasé whimpered. She was too frightened to scream anymore. Just then she saw the white daylight, and a figure in front of it. Mommy. Mommy was inside, looking for Blasé. Blasé saw her mother’s mouth open, saw her mother look at her, about to say something when she heard a voice inside her head. But it wasn’t hers.
Wait! There’s nothing wrong here. But you need to stand very, very still.
Her mother was looking at the thing, and her expression changed. She became relaxed and… stupid. Mommy was standing very, very still.
Then the thing hit her with the side of his hand. She fell over; her head flung the wrong way like a broken doll. Her dark hair was lying in the dirt.
You’re not upset, came the voice in Blasé’s head. You’re not frightened. You want to come here.
Blasé could feel the pull of the voice. It was drawing her closer and closer, making her still and not afraid, making her forget about her mother. Then she remembered what would happen to her.
Not me!
She jerked away from the voice and dove for the tent flap again. This time she got all the way outside, throwing herself straight at the climbing structure.
She felt a hand, a tentacle grab her ankle, hard enough almost to crush bones. It yanked, trying to drag her back through the gap. Blasé kicked backwards with all her strength and then twisted, her sock coming off. She pulled her leg into the padded room.
When she got to the first fish-bowl window, she saw a face looking at her. It was the tall man. He was staring at her, banging on the plastic as he went by. Fear whipped Blasé like a belt. She scrambled faster, and the knocks on the tube followed her. He was underneath him now.
Then something tore inside Blasé which only a five-year old could do.
She shoved her hand between the rough cords that made the netting, scraping off skin. She pushed her whole small arm through and she pointed at the tall man. She screamed in a way she’d never screamed before. Piercing shrieks that cut through the happy laughter of children. She screamed the way her mother taught her to if any stranger bothered her.
“Help meeee! Help meeee! That man tried to touch me!”
She kept screaming it, kept pointing. She saw people looking at her. But they didn’t do anything. They just stared. Lots of faces, gazing at her. Nobody moving. In a way, it was worst than before. They could hear her, but nobody wanted to help.
Then, in the middle of the staring faces, one of them started to head towards the monster. It was a teenager, dressed in blue and a red leather jacket. Motioning to his waist, he took a pokeball and slung it into the air. When the luminous flash of light evaporated into the sky, a cat ferret appeared down on all fours. Two charcoal black claws were sinking into the sand, at the end of a red section on both its arms. A red thunderbolt was streaking across its belly, abruptly ending half-finished. The ear on the left was covered in red, another thunderbolt streaking through its left eye. The right ear, however, was thunderbolt free and a refreshing shade of white. A bushy tail split into two, pointing with absolute precision at the cloaked man.
Now, as if all they had needed was this example, other people were moving too. Police officers, several fathers. More trainers chucking their balls up into the air.
Intimidated by the sheer forces of numbers, the tall man turned and ran. But he sent words to Blasé’s mind before he disappeared completely.
See you later.
When he was definitely gone, Blasé slumped against the netting, feeling the rough cord bite into her cheek. People down below were calling down to her; kids just behind her were whispering. None of it really mattered.
She could cry now; it would be okay, but she didn’t seem to have any tears.
R.I.P Rabbit
~B.E
This came into being from my cosin's seventh birthday party. His parent's did what they did every year: Pizza and a movie. When we were heading back home my mom was unforntunate enough to run over a rabbit. My poor cousin cried for hours. Afterwards I got an idea based loosely on the events that happened that day. And here it is. Enjoy!
Birthday wish
It happened on Blasé’s birthday party, the day she turned five years old.
“Can we go in the tubes, please mommy?” She was having his birthday party at a pokemon carnival that had wandered into town. Having never been to a carnival she was in total awe, abandoning her mother to explore this gigantic playground. All her favorites were there, the magician Kazoo, Adam the camper and his faithful Aipom. Her favorites by far were the teleursas, four teddiursa’s that sang along in the happy land of glooblyglob and had televisions for tummies. It took a threat of receiving no ice-cream at home to drive Blasé back to her mother.
Her mother smiled. “Okay, pumpkin, but take care of Syraon. He’s not as fast as you are.”
These were the last words her mother ever said to her.
Blasé didn’t have to be told, though. She was a whole month older than he was, and he wasn’t even going to kindergarten next year. He had silky black hair and a very sweet smile. Blasé had dark hair too, but her eyes were violet. Just like topaz, mommy always said.
As they climbed through the tubes she kept glancing back at him, and when they got to a long row of vinyl-padded steps, slippery and easy to slide off of, she held out a hand to help him up. Syraon beamed at her, his tilted green eyes shining with adoration. When they had both crawled to the top, Blasé let go of his hand.
She was heading toward the spider web, a large room composed entirely of rope and net. Every so often she glanced through a fish-bowl window in one of the tubes and saw her mother waving at her from below. But then another mother came to talk to hers and Blasé stopped looking. Grown-ups never seemed to talk and wave at the same time.
She concentrated on getting through the tubes, which smelled like old socks. She pretended she was a rabbit in a maze, also eying Syraon on the way until they got to the spider web. It was far at the back of the climbing structure. There were no other kids were around, big or little, and almost no noise. A white rope with knots at regular intervals stretched itself higher and higher, leading to the web itself.
“Okay, you stay here, and I’ll go up and show you how to do it,” she said to Syraon. This was a fib. The truth was Blasé didn’t think Syraon could make it up. It was simple logic. Girls were better climbers than boys.
“No, I don’t want you to go without me,” Syraon said. There was a touch of anxiety in his voice.
“It’s only going to take a second,” Blasé said. She knew what she was afraid of, and added, “No big kids are going to push you.”
Syraon still looked doubtful. “Don’t you want ice cream cake when we get back to my house?” Blasé said thoughtfully.
It wasn’t even a veiled threat. Syraon looked confused, then sighed heavily and nodded. “Okay, I’ll wait.”
Those were the last words she heard him say.
She climbed the rope. It was even harder that she thought it would be, but when she got to the top it was wonderful. The whole world was a moving mass of squiggly netting. She had to hang on with both hand to keep her balance and try to curl her feet around the rough quivering lengths of cable. She could feel the air and sunlight as she laughed with exhilaration and bounced, looking at the colored plastic tubes all around her.
When she looked back down for Syraon, he was gone.
Blasé’s stomach tensed. He had to be there. He promised to wait. But he's not there. She could see the entire padded room below the spider web from here, and it was empty.
Okay, he must have gone back through the tubes. Blasé made his way, staggering and swaying from one handhold to another until she got to the rope. Then she climbed down quickly and stuck her head in a tube, blinking into the darkness.
“Syraon?” Her voice was a muffled echo. There was no answer and what she could see at the end of the tube was empty. “Syraon!”
Blasé was getting a very bad feeling in her stomach. Inside her head she heard her mother’s words swimming inside her head. Take care of Syraon. But she hadn’t taken care of him, and he could be anywhere by now, lost in the giant structure, maybe crying, maybe getting shoved by big kids. Maybe even going to tell her mother. That was when she saw the gap in the padded room.
It was just big enough for a four-year old or a very slim five-year old to squeeze through. A space between two cushiony walls that lead to the outside. Blasé knew immediately that it was where Syraon had gone. It was like him to take the quickest way out. He was probably on his way to her mother now.
Blasé was a very slim five-year old. She wriggled through the gap, only sticking once. Then she was outside, breathless in the dusty shade. She was about to head out to the front of the climbing structure when she noticed the tent flap fluttering. The tent was made of shiny vinyl and its red and yellow stripes were much brighter than the plastic tubes. The loose flap swayed melodically in the wind and Blasé saw that anyone could just lift it and walk inside.
Syraon wouldn’t have gone in there, she thought. It wouldn’t be like him at all. But deep inside Blasé knew the truth. She stared at the flap, hesitating, smelling dust and popcorn in the air. I’m brave; she told himself, and slided forward. She pushed on the tent beside the flap to widen the gap, and she stretched his neck and peered inside.
It was too dark to see anything, but the smell of popcorn was getting stronger... Blasé moved farther and farther until she was actually inside the tent. When her eyes adjusted she realized she wasn’t alone.
There was a tall man in the tent, covered in a dark trenchcoat with a hood obscuring his facial features. When orange tentacles protruded out of the coat in all directions, Blasé let loose with a scream. The man didn’t seem to notice because he had a grasp of something, and his head bent down to it.
Blasé suddenly realized what the man was doing and she knew that grown-ups had lied when they said that monsters and ogres weren’t real.
The tall thing had Syraon, and was eating him.
The piercing screams,
that haunt my dreams,
your face of fear and dread,
I see when I go to bed.
that haunt my dreams,
your face of fear and dread,
I see when I go to bed.
For a moment Blasé was frozen. The whole world had changed and everything had seemed like a dream. Then she heard someone screaming and with frightful certainty realized it was her. Then the thing looked at her.
He lifted his head and looked. Immediately she knew this face was going to haunt her forever. She caught a glimpse of it, three horns striking out from the sides of his head. And his eyes. Empty. Cold. Soulless. She ran then. It was wrong to leave Syraon, but she was too scared to stay. She wasn’t brave; he was a baby, but she couldn’t help it. She was still screaming as she turned around and darted through the flap in the tent. She half-expected someone to help her now, to shelter her away from that thing. But all anyone ever saw was a blonde man following after Blasé.
Blasé’s head and shoulders lunged outside and saw the plastic red tubes rising above her, but just as she noticed this a large hand latched onto her and stopped her before starting to drag her backwards.
In all the confusion, the tearing and the biting, she saw an image break into the sunlight. My mommy. Her mother was coming around the corner of the climbing structure. She’d heard Blasé screaming.
Her mother’s eyes were big and her mouth open, moving fast. She was coming to save Blasé.
“Mommeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” Blasé screamed, and then she was back inside the tent. The thing tossed her to one side the way a person would throw away a piece of rubbish. Blasé landed hard and felt a pain that would have normally made her cry. Now she hardly felt it at all. She was starting at Syraon, who lay on the ground next to her.
Syraon looked strange. His body was like a rag doll, arms and legs flopped out. His skin was white. His eyes were staring straight at the ceiling.
There were two huge slits in his throat, each drenched with blood.
blood streamed from your wrists,
its my life but with a twist,
the burning searing pain,
your one and only bane.
its my life but with a twist,
the burning searing pain,
your one and only bane.
Blasé whimpered. She was too frightened to scream anymore. Just then she saw the white daylight, and a figure in front of it. Mommy. Mommy was inside, looking for Blasé. Blasé saw her mother’s mouth open, saw her mother look at her, about to say something when she heard a voice inside her head. But it wasn’t hers.
Wait! There’s nothing wrong here. But you need to stand very, very still.
Her mother was looking at the thing, and her expression changed. She became relaxed and… stupid. Mommy was standing very, very still.
Then the thing hit her with the side of his hand. She fell over; her head flung the wrong way like a broken doll. Her dark hair was lying in the dirt.
You’re not upset, came the voice in Blasé’s head. You’re not frightened. You want to come here.
Blasé could feel the pull of the voice. It was drawing her closer and closer, making her still and not afraid, making her forget about her mother. Then she remembered what would happen to her.
Not me!
She jerked away from the voice and dove for the tent flap again. This time she got all the way outside, throwing herself straight at the climbing structure.
She felt a hand, a tentacle grab her ankle, hard enough almost to crush bones. It yanked, trying to drag her back through the gap. Blasé kicked backwards with all her strength and then twisted, her sock coming off. She pulled her leg into the padded room.
When she got to the first fish-bowl window, she saw a face looking at her. It was the tall man. He was staring at her, banging on the plastic as he went by. Fear whipped Blasé like a belt. She scrambled faster, and the knocks on the tube followed her. He was underneath him now.
Then something tore inside Blasé which only a five-year old could do.
She shoved her hand between the rough cords that made the netting, scraping off skin. She pushed her whole small arm through and she pointed at the tall man. She screamed in a way she’d never screamed before. Piercing shrieks that cut through the happy laughter of children. She screamed the way her mother taught her to if any stranger bothered her.
“Help meeee! Help meeee! That man tried to touch me!”
She kept screaming it, kept pointing. She saw people looking at her. But they didn’t do anything. They just stared. Lots of faces, gazing at her. Nobody moving. In a way, it was worst than before. They could hear her, but nobody wanted to help.
Then, in the middle of the staring faces, one of them started to head towards the monster. It was a teenager, dressed in blue and a red leather jacket. Motioning to his waist, he took a pokeball and slung it into the air. When the luminous flash of light evaporated into the sky, a cat ferret appeared down on all fours. Two charcoal black claws were sinking into the sand, at the end of a red section on both its arms. A red thunderbolt was streaking across its belly, abruptly ending half-finished. The ear on the left was covered in red, another thunderbolt streaking through its left eye. The right ear, however, was thunderbolt free and a refreshing shade of white. A bushy tail split into two, pointing with absolute precision at the cloaked man.
Now, as if all they had needed was this example, other people were moving too. Police officers, several fathers. More trainers chucking their balls up into the air.
Intimidated by the sheer forces of numbers, the tall man turned and ran. But he sent words to Blasé’s mind before he disappeared completely.
See you later.
When he was definitely gone, Blasé slumped against the netting, feeling the rough cord bite into her cheek. People down below were calling down to her; kids just behind her were whispering. None of it really mattered.
She could cry now; it would be okay, but she didn’t seem to have any tears.
Your body lies still,
an old icy chill,
how could it be true,
now theres no more of you,
an old icy chill,
how could it be true,
now theres no more of you,
R.I.P Rabbit
~B.E
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