Cadence

I'll be using this table for Kim and Michael right now, but others as I finish with them. 

001.	Tired	002.	Back Alley	003.	Sunrise	004.	Late	005.	Son
006.	Hot	007.	Friend	008.	Floor	009.	Cheat	010.	Think
011.	Disgust	012.	Shelter	013.	Borrow	014.	Chair	015.	Alter
016.	Peace	017.	Beach	018.	True	019.	Crazy	020.	Love
021.	New	022.	Beggar	023.	False	024.	Happy	025.	Cancer
026.	Pickpocket	027.	Reverse	028.	Deliver	029.	Arrival	030.	Fall
031.	Knife	032.	Torn	033.	Danger	034.	Neutral	035.	Mate
036.	Fly	037.	Loud	038.	Touch	039.	Seek	040.	Argue
041.	Work	042.	Sink	043.	Nut	044.	Stuck	045.	Animal*
051.	Restaurant	052.	Movie	053.	Wait	054.	Patient	055.	Crime
056.	Choke	057.	Fever	058.	Summer	059.	Eat	060.	Thirst
061.	Chance	062.	Appear	063.	Whisper	064.	Day	065.	Scream
066.	Fail	067.	Confused	068.	Smile	069.	Come	070.	Alone
071.	Fast	072.	Slow	073.	Return	074.	Fire	075.	Positive
076.	Baby	077.	Upset	078.	Kitchen	079.	Winter	080.	Ignorant
081.	Fool	082.	Afraid	083.	Prison	084.	Sex	085.	Hate
086.	Alarm	087.	Genius	088.	Negative	089.	Flood	090.	Bomb
091.	Hospital	092.	Trap	093.	Celebrate	094.	Old	095.	Disappear
096.	Writer's Choice	097.	Writer's Choice	098.	Writer's Choice	099.	Writer's Choice	100.	Writer's Choice
*046	Pray	047.	Kill	048.	Light	049.	Cold	050.	Affair

I wrote this for my online class, and I really liked it. I liked it so much, it became my NaNoWriMo plot. And then I hated it. Because I lost the original feel of the story and it became this mangled, wierd, 50K word piece of crap. But the original short story remains one of my favorite things. 

 
Yes, at the end, 'Self's' name being Kim WAS supposed to be a reference to THE Kim, but with a few changes. Her character lost most of its personality once I changed her name.

Lousy idea, us sitting up on the railroad tracks like that. We were at least three hundred feet about the swirling waters of the river, dangling our feet over the edge. We thought not of what would happen if the brittle wood of the bridge should snap, or a train come screaming around the bend. It was so easy to loose yourself in the heart stopping eyes of a crush, especially for a sixteen year old girl.

Michael’s eyes were icy blue, streaks of white circling the black pupil in the iris. They were utterly breathtaking. And here I was, a plain girl with normal green eyes and average brown hair. And I was terribly pale, as my ex-best friend pointed out on a normal basis. Not like Michael’s smooth golden skin that never seemed to burn. Unlike me-if we stayed out here in the sun for much longer I would certainly be looking like a lobster for school on Monday.

“Michael…” I said, hopefully sounding at least a tiny bit sexy. “Maybe we should leave. It’s getting late.” Michael shrugged.

“Sure,” He said nonchalantly. “You’re right actually.” The smile that grew on face was more breathtakingly beautiful than his eyes. “We’re going to miss that movie.” He rose, pulling me passively along with him. We started walking the way we came, balancing carefully on the track, holding hands. I didn’t let go until I heard the whistle behind me, my eyes widening with terror as the train blared its horn and shone its light down upon his.

Michael pulled me towards the other side, towards safety. I knew we would never make it. The millisecond before the train crushed us to bits I did the only thing I could. I threw my entire body weight against Michael and tossed our soon to be useless bodies off the bridge and through the air. 300 feet of air, to be precise.

The last thing I remember before I died was the bitter cold of the water hitting my chest, and my breath stopping.

My heart stopped a second later.

 

The Moonlight

But if they press me sharply
Or harry me through the day
Look for me by the moonlight
Watch for me by the moonlight
I'll come to thee by the moonlight
Though hell should bar the way

Every night by the trickling stream, the moon would shine down upon the waters, sparkling as if by magic.

Every night she would come. Her rich, wine colored gown she reserved just for these nights sweeping behind her, the heavy velvet brushing over the underbrush with a soft rustling.

Every night he would come. His plain black shirt and pants he reserved just for these nights making him a shadow, making her doubt his existence on occasion.

Every night they would express their undying love for one another, kissing as the moon turned the dark forest into a land of magic, where nothing could touch them.

A soft wind would rustle the leaves, but would leave the lovers' clothes and hair untouched. They were suspended in their own world, where nothing could touch them.

It was on that last night, everything changed.

"My darling, I don't know when I'll be able to come again." He said, wiping away the tears that shining on her ivory skin.

"Please. You can't leave me." She begged, clinging to his clothes that masked his true identity. "I love you."

"They're tightening their grip. I can't keep running from them. They will catch me sooner or later. I can't put you in danger." He kissed her forehead gently. "I love you. Promise me...you'll wait for me. Every night, as we always do. In this clearing as the moon shines down on you, wait for me. Someday, I will return." He stood, walking away with one last look of longing at his love. She cried for some time, waiting for him to return.

She returned to the stream every night. She would gaze at the moon, waiting for her love.

He would never come for her.

She would always wait, even as she heard the rumors from the village. The rumors that said the son of the leader had gone missing. That all available persons were searching for him.

She knew better.

Yet she still waited. Even as the other women in her poor village remarked on how translucent she was becoming. They called her a wisp, a ghost. Her favorite. A moonbeam.

One day she just stopped coming back from her nightly journeys to the stream. She had turned into what the others in the village had predicted. She was nothing more than a spirit, flickering in and out of the shadows in the forest.

Her ritual continued nonetheless.

She would always wait for her love. A figure dressed in deep wine, floating an inch above the waters of the stream, always glistening in the moonlight.

 

Gold

 

"And though the cage be made of gold..."

The Queen was a figure of perfection. She was beautiful. Her ivory skin sparkled in the moonlight. Her jet black hair tumbled down her back as she gazed out the window incredulously at the moonlight.

As the peasants looked in on her castle, they saw the beauty. The solid gold trims on the floorboards. The heavy velvet curtains. The Queen's intricate gowns and expensive jewels.

"Such a lucky woman." The peasant women would say as they walked to the stream to wash their plain frocks.

The Queen watched them from her high tower window.

"Such lucky women." She would say as she turned back to the thousand meaningless affairs she had to attend to.

When she looked inward to her life, all she saw was misery. A husband she was forced to marry. Children who did not know her. A life where every moment was planned and escorted. She longed to be free. She longed to get away.

One night she did.

Her favorite emerald green gown was laid out on her bed with the jewels she always wore spread out around it. She stole a simple black dress from the maid's quarters. A thin black cloak was all that shielded her from the December cold. She crept down to the stables in the dead of night. The stable boy was asleep. The Queen swiftly saddled her house, a fiery tempered black mare.

At one o'clock in the morning the Queen galloped away from the castle, vanishing into the forests before anyone knew she was gone.

The King spent the rest of his life looking for her. Thousands of soldiers combed every inch of the surrounding lands.

But she was never seen again.

Except for the peasant women, who would often see her, smiling from the trees. But when they stepped closer to speak she would vanish, never to be caught.

 "The skies I saw, the trees I saw after no eyes shall see; Tonight I die the death of God; the stars shall die with me; One sound shall sunder all the spears and break the trumpet's breath; You never laughed in all your life as I shall laugh in death." -G. K. Chesterton

I lay dying among the withering flowers on New Year's Eve. You think you killed me, silence me. You were wrong, as always. Nothing you can do can kill me now. Even as my body wastes away, my memory will haunt you forever. I will be gone, but you will remain. You will remain, and you will be tortured for the rest of your life for what you did.

Revenge tastes sweet. I only wish I could be around to watch you suffer.

The stars twinkle for a final time as my eyes close in weariness. The wind whispers through the trees as a strange buzzing fills my ears. As I fall into darkness a spiteful smile comes to my lips.

They find my body hours later, as the dawn illuminates the edge of the forest. My face was smiling, as if I were laughing.

I was laughing at you.