This is my personal writing blog for my writing circle any anyone else who may so choose to enjoy it. So, please, feel free to read and comment. Constructive criticism is always welcome.
When the sun rose this morning, so did my stomach. Bile burned my esophagus as I inhaled the cool air. I hoped I wasn't getting ill, but as if on cue, my body convulsed in a chest-rattling cough. I was gasping for breath, cursing the fact that I lived alone for the first time since I moved out. After what seemed like an hour, the coughing subsided. The taste of half-digested Chinese food burned more than the biled; a renegade grain of rice forced another fit of coughing.
"I suppose that's what I get for eating sketchy leftovers," I forced a small laugh at the person in the mirror, for the first time noticing the purple-tinted skin beneath my eyes, making me look years older than I really was. How strange, I thought, running a finger lightly over the skin, almost as if I was checking that it was my own. I got as much sleep as I usually do...
With a shrug at my reflection, I convinced myself that it was nothing and started freeing the hair that still remained in the over-night sloppy bun. My stomach turned objectively, trying to twist itself in knots.
"Fine!" I snapped aloud at the pesky organ and stomped into the bathroom like a child throwing a temper tantrum to search the medicine cabinet. "Here! Eat this and shut up," I growled angrily in response, popping two chalky antacids in my mouth.
Showers always seem to improve my spirits, I decided, and twisted the faucets to let the water flow. Steam quickly entered my lungs, soothing and tickling at every inhale. The heat quickly went to my head, making me feel weak and off balance. Bracing myself, I eased down to sit on the edge of the shower with my head under the running water. My breath started coming only in short, panted gasps.
"Oh god no..." I cringed, feeling my eyes start to fill with tears, "Not again..." I fought the coughing fit off as long as I could. It felt different this time. My body ached more, but there was more to it than that. It wasn't until I opened my eyes that I saw the watered-down blood flowing from my hand down the drain.
I quickly washed my mouth out; without thinking, I raked my tongue clean with my fingers, accidentally scratching my uvula. My body began to convulse again. The coughs has progressed into heaves as my stomach decided to empty itself. I threw up until the acidic bile once more burned my throat -- and what's worse was that some began escaping my nose due to the tilt of my head.
My every muscle ached -- no, my cells ached. I shook with weakness as my body tried to turn itself inside out. My vision turned foggy and unfocused before gradually fading as my consciousness began to slip slowly away.
****
I didn't recall the moment that I regained consciousness , but it never felt like I fully woke up. It took longer than usual to identify my surroundings. My vision was still blurry and my balance still off. I didn't know how long I had been out. The water was still warm, but it felt as if I had been in a hot tub for too long. It was a struggle to stand; I knocked the bottles of shampoo and body wash to the shower floor.
Losing my balance once more, I reached out to grab the first thing I saw -- the faucets. My movements were slow and I failed to grab hold. I did, however, manage to move them, sending scalding hot water on my back. I tried to yell out, to cry, but all that came out was a muddled groan of pain. I slipped, hitting my head, blood running down my face. An uncoordinated hand slapped over the gash and slid down my face. Drawing nearer my mouth, my tongue reached out to touch the warm, thick liquid. Unlike its usual harsh, metallic taste, it was now familiar...Sweet almost...
I was hungry. Oh so hungry. All of my thoughts fled from my mind and all I could now think of was the taste of blood. I bit harshly on the tip of my tongue again and again until I was chewing on the flesh itself. More. I was so very hungry and all I wanted was to taste more flesh and blood.
I wanted to try something a little out of my comfort zone for my first entry to stretch my literary muscles. I've had zombies on the brain lately (pun totally intended) due to watching Dawn of the Dead recently and Zach's little brother talking about zombies when I sat down to write. I thought this was interesting because it goes through the change of human to zombie and the change in the cognitive state. Again, it's not a topic that I usually write, so it is new for me, but I am rather proud of it; especially for just sitting down and writing it in one go.
Feel free to share con-crit and thank you for reading.
While our writing circle has yet to be officially created, I thought that I would give a small sample of something that I have recently written. My boyfriend of (almost) 6 years mentioned to a friend that he always writes me poems for Valentine's Day, so I took it upon myself to create the same challenge for myself. I enjoy the steampunk genre, so I decided to write a love poem with just the smallest taste of steampunk. I wrote this in one sitting, but, unfortunately, I have yet to go back and work out a few of the little kinks within a few stanzas. It is also still untitled. But enjoy the first poem I have written in years and feel free to leave constructive criticism.
"Ne'er fret, my dear," he said,
"For while I am away,
Your face my mind will ne'er forget
With you, my heart will stay."
He gathered her into his arms,
Lay a kiss upon her cheek;
The woman shown an adoring smile,
Her stomach rather weak.
His figure soon turned to silhouette
Boarding the airborn ship.
Ne'er an eyelash did she bash
Nor the quiver of a lip.
"Perhaps while he is gone," she thought
"I will disappear."
From the moment he proposed to her,
She knew the deal was struck:
The marriage had long since been arranged
To change her family's luck.
Her family’s name no longer related
To fine, prim, and proper --
Unfortunate events had made the lot
Synonymous with "pauper."
Although her time did dwindle away
With earnest begging and pleading
Her parents’ steadfast mind ne’er changed,
Leaving her heart bleeding.
Shaking her head, she dried her tears
Plotting for her freedom.
The autumnal Ball, she decided,
Would serve as the perfect cover
For her to say her few farewells
And escape her loveless lover.
For the Ball, her corset tied tight,
Her hair in perfect curls,
Her petticoats fluffed her dark green gown,
The envy of the girls.
Her face was powdered and faintly painted,
Intended to hide her emotion.
She hoped the music from the strings
Could hide her heart’s commotion.
After bidding adieu to her few close friends
She would pack her things and leave.
No one e’er seemed to believe her,
When divulging into her plan.
None, it seemed, except for one –
A random, well-dressed man.
Try as she might, she could not recall
How they came to meet,
But now she sat, sweetly sipping tea,
Idly chatting with the elite.
Or so she assumed, but it was confirmed
As now of himself he spoke.
His prominent and quite stuffy father’s
Name he wished to revoke.
She felt the flutter of her heart, now,
Surely this could not mean…
She felt the pink hue of her blush
Dance lightly upon her cheek
“Care to join me for a small stroll?”
He rose to stand on his feet.
Extending a hand in a gentlemanly fashion,
Her hand met, soft and light
They escaped from the lively crowd
To the calm and quiet night.
They walked some time in silence
Enjoying the peace and stillness.
Her arm intertwined with his,
Both feeling rather fearless,
He picked a flower absently,
As he told his situation.
“My dear,” he smiled, “I must confess,
I know just how you feel.”
He placed the flower ‘hind her ear,
“You wish it was not real.”
She nodded in agreement,
Surprised someone understood.
“My only wish is of escape –
I truly wish I could!”
He took her hands into his own
And looked into her eyes.
“Then run away with me, my sweet,
To escape the deceit and lies.
Together, we can start anew,
And live as God intended.”
The suddenness of his proposal
Had caught her off her guard.
The shock was writ upon her face,
The silence now grown awkward.
Instantly, his thoughts had been
That he’d o’erstepped his bound,
Seeing the new expression on her
Turned his smile into a frown.
The silence of the garden broke
As she turned to him with a smile,
“Is this what all the musings did mean
By their heart beating a minute a mile?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck
And asked him where to meet.
Arriving quickly home, she packed
Her things into a suitcase
Thinking briefly of the next morn
And her parents’ face.
Sitting down to the desk, she dipped the quill in ink,
She drew a piece parchment
And began to repeat herself once more -- this time,
With the apology of her department.
She signed the letter “with love always,”
Then lightly inked her name,
Allowing a single tear to fall,
Knowing nothing would be the same.
As she sealed the letter with wax,
She heard him now arrive.
The sound of approaching horseshoes
Made her sore heart sing.
She said farewell to her room and home,
Bringing down her things.
Insisting that she do no labor,
He helped her into the carriage.
The moonlight caught the shine of her ring,
A symbol of her intended marriage.
She drew the ring from upon her finger,
And glanced upon its stone,
Thinking briefly of the life that would be
And feeling ever alone.
As the seat beside her was filled,
She felt her heart now swell.
He told the driver where to go
And quickly they were off;
Within moments they found themselves
Halted at the dock.
“How funny,” she laughed quietly,
Climbing downward from the carriage.
“The last time I was here,” she smiled,
“I was doomed to a loveless marriage.”
Once the ship had taken flight,
They leaned over the rail,
“With this ring, I do not thee wed,”
And dropped it so it fell.
She felt as if a shackle broke;
Her heart now truly free.
Without the bonds of love once faked,
She turned now to her love,
And slid her hand into his own,
The fit liken to glove.
As they sailed, the two discussed
What their future held
Now that they could start anew
How deeply they did delve.
They spoke of dreams, of hobbies, and love,
And soon it was decided
That the two were to be joined as one
Once the flight subsided.
And so they did, and they did live happily ever after
Yes, such an odd title for a blog indeed. I wanted something to do with quills and ink, but I knew that was too simple for me. As you may be able to tell from my personal blog, I love owls; hence owl quills. The squid ink part just came to me upon seeing that simply "Owl Quills" was taken.
With all that being said, welcome to my blog. This blog is strictly dedicated to my writing and was finally created due to a writing circle that some of my friends and I are beginning. Once I find out their blogs (or whatever medium they choose to use), I will post them in the links area to the right. I will attempt to post at least once a week, or possibly more if inspiration strikes. Hopefully there will be much to come from this blog.
Yay, after messing around with the layout, I finally got things fixed. I can't wait to use this blog now.