[My father wrote to me, after reading the chapter this clip came from. “I like Scream best of all.” How can I argue with that? So, I’m sharing a little clip with Scream in it. The last clip I’ll put up from NaNoWriMo 2012. Enjoy it in all its unedited glory.]
Scream heard Merlin’s words. “It’s time.” He knew what Merlin meant. The dragons had spread the word of the fairy Fauna’s death. Every dragon knew what the invaders had done. Every dragon knew of the loss of one of the White Witch’s daughters. Every dragon knew the end of the war was approaching. The White Witch would soon strike.
Every dragon knew it was time. Dragons everywhere turned away from defending towns and villages. They turned, and attacked the invaders and their landing ships. Dragons would fall in battle. It was the way of war. No dragon would fall without honor.
Scream looked to the sky. He screamed. His scream echoed across the Southern Plains. Before the echo faded, Scream took to the sky. His wings fully spread. Every fairy in the kingdom saw him leave. Every fairy knew where he was headed.
Straight at the enemy. A dark gray streak across the pale blue sky. Before Scream reached the horizon, the fairies of the Castle Guard all stood, as one. Took up their swords, shields, bows and arrows. And lifted to the sky. They followed after Scream.
Scream was the Dragon Knight. He was one of them. He would not face the enemy alone.
Galan stood at the foot of the path leading from the seashore, through the cliffs, into the kingdom. The tip of his broadsword rested on the sandy rock. His armor gleamed in the sunlight. He’d been scrupulous in his preparations. Each plate perfectly polished, perfectly attached. His sword sharpened to its finest edge.
The cliffs to either side of the path were lined with archers that would rain death down on the invaders when they arrived. He was there, at the entrance to the path, to insure no invaders made it to the path. Behind him was Landen, then Marnock, and one by one, each of the remaining knights. Each would fight until they fell.
Galan embraced the honor of being the first knight to face the invaders. He hoped he would pass beyond the veil of life with honor, as a true warrior, and defender of the realm.
This is my entry into the very first week of Jeffrey Hollar‘s new flash fiction challenge, Monday Mixer. Please go read all the other entries. You can find them here.
She stopped at my desk one day, an hour before lunch. “Walk with me.” She didn’t ask. She knew I would. I remember so clearly the tone of her voice. The tension in it. The fear. The confusion. I took a good look into her eyes. The pretty blue that I normally saw was gone. Replaced by an intense, panic-stricken blue.
I got up, and took a walk with her. Would have gone anywhere she asked. My heart told me too. Told me something was horribly wrong. We walked through the halls of the building. A path we’d walked before. No one watching us would have thought anything was wrong. Somehow, I knew that’s what she wanted.
I opened the door to the stairs, and let her through. Then followed. As we walked down the stairs, she told me what was wrong. “That doctor’s appointment, Friday? That was a mammogram. I got the results last night.” She stopped walking and held on to the stair rail. She closed her eyes, briefly, and took a breath. “It’s breast cancer.”
I stood there, next to her. On the stairs. “I knew something was wrong. When you told me you were going to the doctor’s on Friday, everything went black.”
“I’m scared,” She resumed our descent down the stairs. “Really scared.”
I didn’t say anything. She knew how I felt. Knew I considered her to be my friend. I understood she was trusting me with information she didn’t want others to know. As we reached the foot of the stairs, she paused again. “I need you here. I need you to be here. For me. Can you be here? For me?”
If I were a knight on a horse, I would have drawn my sword, and fought any dragon she asked me to. If she was surrounded by a fire, I would have burned in the flames, trying to rescue her. If she were the captain of a sinking ship, I would have put her on the last lifeboat, in my place.
I was none of those things. I was just me. Another person she worked with five days a week. A friend who took pictures of flowers and shared them with her. Someone that tried to write poetry every now and then. She always asked to read everything I wrote.
There was nothing else I could have said.
I wish I could tell you how things ended. I wish I could tell you how she’s doing. That it all worked out OK. That I walked through hell with her. But I can’t. The simple truth is 12 weeks after her first surgery, I was sent out on medical leave. All contact between myself, and the people I worked with was banned. That was two years ago. And in that two years, I have never heard from any of the people that I used to know.
[Author’s Note: I knew what was coming. Some part of me knew. Some part of me knew that something in life was drastically, disturbingly wrong. Some part of me knew things had to change. As proof of this, I have only to look at my own words. Written in the days before the person I was died, and who I am becoming was born.
I’ll start with this piece. Written on 30 June 2010. Over 3 months before everything ended.]
How do I hang on?
How do I keep going?
When all I want to do is
And watch it all burn
Until only ashes remain.
How do I hang on?
How do I care?
When nothing I do
And it all rushes headlong
How do I explain?
How do I help?
When everything I touch
And another part of me
Dies with it?
How can I hope?
How can I dream?
When the light has gone
And the darkness has returned.
And all I can see
And all I can feel
And all I can want
And all I can say
As I watch the demons
Of the soul