All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
The Dead and the Gone3
I'm finally back from the dumb hospital. It's bin so hard in there. Oh, I'm still shake-ing. No, not from the pain in my ankel and arm, but from my memory. Flashes of their gray, ashen faces kept pennetrate-ing my mind, haunting me both when I'm awake and when I'm sleeping. Enduring weeks of this tortur, I was finally releesed yesterday, and so with the gidunce of my gardian angel, I made it back here this morning. :) Oh yeah, my scab? It's a BATMAN scar! (Oh yeah~)
I was stretching m legs to relieve some pain, they were getting more frequent now that Winter was starting to peek his icy nose around the corner, when Michaelangelo glimmered into reality, and I let him do so. His face was pulled solemnly, serious. Straightening up, I said, "What's wrong?", giving him my full attention. M's mouth barely opened as he whispered, "They're almost complete, Calypso! They're almost free." My eyes widened as I realized what he was talking about. "But..... but I haven't been searching," I mutter mostly to myself. I was doomed.
Hoping Michaelangelo didn't know I was trying, I closed my eyes, and called up a few more dead in my mind and searched each skeletal face for 2 familiar ones. I searched through ghosts, skeletons, zombies, everyone. But no parents. I opened my eyes and wiped the tears from another disappointment. When my eyes cleared, I saw 2 bony figures coming menacingly closer. "Oh man, not now," I cursed under my breath. I grabbed my bat from beside me and took our my pocket knife from my shoe. "Bring it," I hissed at the 2 figures.
So they did, 2 more dead things appeared behind them, I swear, I did not know WHAT they were.The newer ones I hadn't been introduced to slid behind me. I whipped around and puched one, breaking the skull around his hole-for-a-nose. Whirling back around, I saw Michaelangelo pummeling one of the ghosts with the other at his feet. His muscles bulging, a angry look on his face. He's come to help me. For a split second, I thought, 'I don't need helping," but then thought how I was outnumbered.
Almost immediately, I felt My arm being wrenched behind me and bones wrapping around my mouth. A knife was held at my side as well, so when Michaelangelo noticed, he didn't dare move. I panicked.
I squirmed around, avoiding the knife, then kicked backwards. My foot connected to his leg and that was all. He held me tighter and jabbed the knife at my side so it drew only a bit of blood. But still, it hurt. Tears rolled over his finger bones, and he wrenched his hand back in horror. Instantly, his hand disenigrated into ash. In his own panic, he jabbed the knife harder to my side. I grunted, he pulled the knife back out.
Screaming, he went back to the underworld.
I held my side, blood was starting to seep through the sweatshirt as well.
Crawling over to where I kept my stuff, I dropped the knife and bat there and took my sweatshirt off to press it to the cut. Breathing deeply didn't help, so I just lied down and breathed shallowly through my mouth, willing the pain to go away. Eventually, after hours, it did. Another gash to add to the scar gallery!
I can't believe Michaelangelo had to see that. That was probly one of the most embaerussing thing to have happened. I did not need help, then. I coold have handel-ed it. I am shure I coold have.
When I met Michaelangelo today, I told him thank you and tried to give him a quick hug. Being the not-that-smart person I am, I almost fell right through him again. I apologized a million times before we went out to grab some more food. I crouched in a corner, my head barely showing so I could watch. Finally, the lady threw out her garbage.
Suddenly, I couldn't get up. I willed myself to. First, I thought this was some new magic from the dead people. But then I realized it was my legs again. To the Garbage dump with the blasted wind. I forced myself to get up, 'Weakling,' called myself, 'Fool!' I nearly screamed when I got up, so Michaelangelo seeing what was happening to me, rushed up to the garbage can and looked through the fresh garbage. I held my nose and picked out a half eaten banana and day old bread from his choices.
I thanked him and he helped me limp home. Everystep was one of agony, like stepping on pins and needles, my muscles felt like balloons stretched too far, ready to rip apart.
I lied down and decided I should get a new blanket tomorrow. Scavenge money, then go to Good Will.
Michaelangelo got a blanket for me. Free, of course. I don't know how, but I acksepted* it anyway.Wrapping it around me, I felt warmer, it's really cold now.
I thanked Michaelangelo profuze-ly, Mom, Dad. Don't worry.
I know it's getting really near my birthday. It's in December. So every day, now, I go and check the date on a calendar in that groshery store. Today is October 13. Michaelangelo hasn't visited me in a while, I wonder why.
Oh my goodness.
You woold never believ what I'm about to tell you.
But in the dead lands.
No one's been attacking me because of that war. They are all busy fighting. Michaelangelo visited me for about 10 minutes before he was called back. The DL ties rae being garded, but some of the Demons are escaping; Michaelangelo says they're spy-ing on me, ready to ambush me at any moment. I'm scared, but I'll fight them. I know I will.
So cold, everyday now, I'm massaging my legs and arms. Everyday, I say in bed massaging up and down, up and down...
Michaelangelo appeared, not in his usual style, though. A rushed poof! and he was in front of me. He rushed through the report he gives me weekly. I nodded, and went back to rubbing, massaging, keeping in tone.
I was worried about Michaelangelo. He looked really tired. His ghostly hair dishevelled and dark bags under his beautiful eyes. I gave him a smile and said, "If you need to go back, Michaelangelo, go. Don't worry about me."
So he left. But as soon as he did, I wanted him back. To stay with me.
Kids were trick-or-treating today
I went out too, pretending like meant to dress punk for Halloween and received lots of candy. Now my stock is full; I just goota start getting a toothbrush to wash.
I asked a bunch of people what day it was, and no body would answer me. So I had t check the calendar, avoiding that one beefy man. It's December 6, supposedly. That's what beefy-man told me even though I'd aimed towards not talking to him. So the rest of the day, I wandered around, watching kids walk with their parents, laughing, crying, or whatever. I felt a sharp pain in my heart when I saw a dark haired girl holding hands with her daddy, tears streaming down her cheek. In my front sweater pocket, I felt that doll Mom sewed for me. Then I knew why I felt that pang. She reminded me of myself.
So I walked up to the girl, knelt in front of her, and pulled out the doll. Bruno, my dog doll. With an increasing ache in my heart, I gave it to her, a stranger. Then I wiped away her tears with my thumb and the father smiled at me. I rasped, "His name is Bruno. Take good care of him." I turned away, starting to cry.
I knew Bruno would be happier with this girl. I needed nothing, after all, the dead were after me. All I needed was a bat and a knife and a place to call home.
Suddenly, Michaelangelo was beside me, ghost tears trickling down his pale cheeks.
"Calypso..." he whispered, his fingertips brushing my cheeks, the keen cold shocking me. I took a gasp of air and hiccuped, "I had to. I-- I-- I don't know why. I jus-s- st had to."
Michaelangelo's kind, lopsided smile warmed me, and I limped all the way back to my 'shack'.
I don't feel good. My arms and legs ache again. I also have a headache.
I froze. My muscles, again, wouldn't work. Sudden sharp, pulling pains spanned acorss my arms and legs. I toppled to the ground, writhing. Finally, I just curled up into a ball, wishing the pain to go away.
The conversations outside the alley tell me it's around 6 o' clock. Still locked in the pain, I stayed on the ground. Ice-like feelings gripped me and spread through my body, starting from my side the had contact with the ground.
"CALYPSO!" a shout rang through the alley I was in. I made a low moan from deep in my frozen throat, and I saw Michaelangelo's feet floating yet running towards me. Then a view of his knees as he knelt beside me.
He rolled me over, my muscles screamed, but I tried to ignore it like I ignore my hunger. It worked for about 3 seconds. I whimpered. Then again, for the 3rd time, blacked out like a little girl.
I woke up again under my blanket, my sweater washed with no more dried blood on it, and everything just seemed a lot cleaner.
I don't know how he does it.
I really don't.