Interactive Session 5

14 Dec

Welcome to the fifth round of the interactive session. In this session we have 3 proses by Katy Ribar, Lesley Crigger, Natasha Pasch and a poem by Allison Johnson in response to our Fantasy Writing Activity .The editorial have posted their comments and now it’s your time to toss in your suggestions.

Here we go:

1.The House of Carrington – Katy Ribar

No, Ella was in shock, vision blurred. She left them after Ella was born. How was it possible that Ella was looking at her? And she was looking back at Ella with, what . . . love, fear? This was not reality, but insanity! It’s the accident Ella thought, massaging her head which was in excruciating pain. Feeling faint, Ella sat down. Immediately her chest tightened, her head exploded, and her stomach lurched. The woman ran over catching Ella, she whispered in her ear “Ella, it’s time. I never should have left you my dear sweet daughter.”  Too exhausted to understand, Ella shut her eyes, praying she was dreaming, this was a nightmare and her father wasn’t dead.

For 13 years it had been Ella and her father, Daniel. Ella’s mother, Rachel left the day after she was born; apparently Rachel wanted no children. Rachel insisted on one thing, that Ella be named after her mother. The day Rachel left she told the nurse she needed fresh air. When Daniel arrived to take Ella and Rachel home, she was gone. Ella’s father never heard from Rachel again. Ella knew her Grandparents were still living, but after Rachel left so did her Grandparents. Ella had one picture hidden of her mother. Ella knew it was her fault her mother left. She only had only her father. Until she lost him

The horrible crash that killed her father was meant for them both. It changed everything, what was would never again be.

When Ella regained consciousness her mother was embracing her, three others had joined them. Her head clearing and remembering her mother’s words Ella blurted out “why did you leave’? Her mother considered Ella’s question and instead introduced her to the three standing above, her Grandmother Ella, Grandfather Michael, and Aunt Kate. Ella felt shocked at the instant bond intertwining with her estranged family. Her Grandmother and Mother sat on opposites sides holding her close. Her Grandfather and Aunt began the history of her family.

The House of Carrington’s are gifted with special powers; their powers are i

mpenetrable as a family. Ella is last in the family blood line completing their family, making them the strongest family in the world of the knowns. Ella’s Grandfather explained they are not immortal but born with powers, passed down through family heritage. Both of Ella’s Grandparents were born into families of the knowns, giving the Carrington’s individual powers, making them stronger and unique.

The Belzar’s, a dark family whom were the second strongest had been trying to break the Carrington’s. Their powers separate bonds between families, make each member crazy then causing family members to murder each other. When Ella was born the Carrington’s didn’t want the Belzar’s knowing she existed. Her protection was crucial to the blood line. The Belzar’s were unaware of Ella’s father. So when the Belzar’s threatened their family, they had to flee leaving Ella with her father.

Ella’s Aunt detected the crash this night; she located Ella and her father. Her Grandfather arrived and was able to feel the Belzar’s had known Ella existed, and the crash was a death trap. Ella’s death meant the Carrington’s fall of power. As Ella’s Mother and Grandmother arrived; The Belzar’s were stunned. Ella’s grandmother quickly bonded her family, her mother sending shock waves, protecting their family.

Ella learned and strengthened her power, she was gifted with an invisible shield protecting those around her, those who tried to penetrate the shield felt shear pain. The Carrington’s had protective elements in their powers; according to her grandfather the family married out of love so their powers will protect the family. Ella found her estranged family easy to love; their bond grew effortlessly with Ella.

Ella smiled watching her mother outside. She jumped at the loud pop and watched her mother’s head burst in red. Ella turned to look at the oak tree; no! Tied to the tree with a gun was Aunt Kate. There was no bond, where was her Grandmother?

Ella shook watching Grandfather Walk-up with six men. Ella knew inside they were the Belzar’s. They untied Aunt Kate, picked up Grandmother’s body, and dumped it by Ella’s mothers. Aunt Kate was coming in the side door. Ella projected her shield. Her Aunt screamed, “We’re not hurting you; we had to kill your mother and mine. The Belzar’s would only agree to peace with the other knowns if we did!” Ella heard voices; Aunt Kate was lying. Ella had more powers than the rest. With her Mother and Grandmother gone her Grandfather is marrying her to the Belzar’s, joining families, guaranteeing power and control within the knowns. Combining powers will create light and dark. Ella had to leave, now! Her Aunt jumped at her, Ella projected with force. Her Aunt crashed through the sliding glass door. Ella ran, pain stabbing her chest; she kept going, projecting around her. People screamed, Ella ran, not caring. She stopped, not recognizing her surroundings. Such speed, strength, she did have more powers.

Ella heard her Grandfather. Aunt Kate was dead, and the six Belzar’s in the yard. Ella could feel her Grandfather’s anger. Through his mind Ella learned she had every power inherited down from both of her Grandparents. She felt tears, and together they cried for the loss of his family, of hers, theirs. The Belzar’s were coming; she knew they were going to kill him without Ella. So did her Grandfather.

​My Grandfather once told me the Carrington’s powers were protective out of love. My death was my Grandfathers suicide. I became a guardian because of the powers I inherited and remain strong. My Grandfather may have been evil, my young heart remained pure. I will never see my family for now I am their protector. My Grandfather took everyone I loved. Now I watch over and guide those who need love. My powers and purity some say I am a goddess; no, I am Ella, 13, I love as my father taught me.

2. Disturbed – Lesley Crigger

Stretching for miles before my tired eyes is the eight by four plot of dirt my sister now resides. Six feet under my feet her delicate features slowly begin to rot into a grotesque mass in the bottom of her silk lined bed.

Puddled around my soul is the guilt that drips off my heart and fills the air with its foul odor. How could I have been so blind as to never have seen this coming? Surely there were clues I should have seen. Did I figuratively hold the gun while she pulled the trigger? What becomes of her broken soul?

“Oh, Devon? Won’t go to Heaven. She’s just another lost soul about to be mine again,” someone whispers as if in response to my thoughts.

The carelessly spoken words slice through the barriers erected in my mind. Anger bubbles to the top, threatening to spew into a molten form of raw rage. I turn towards the voice ready to uncork my bottled emotions in a hellish physical demonstration. White knuckled, fist bawled, I search the empty patch of sacred ground behind me. My breath comes in short snarls as I look for someone to unleash my fury upon.

Hot breath slides down my neck as the voice whispers in my ear, “Leave her, we will receive her. It’s beyond your control.”

An icy hand slides down my spine, stealing my breath as it goes. Fear infiltrates the places anger once boiled, turning my body to stone.

I catch my breath as the hand is lifted away and I no longer feel the body of another man pressed against mine. The unexplainable presence of pure evil still lingers. My feet reluctantly obey my command to turn once more and face the opposite way,

Leaning against my sister’s tombstone like he’s in a pub rather than a cemetery is the owner of the sinister voice. His black, pupiless eyes bore into mine, seeming to mock my very existence. My soul shivers as it recognizes him for what he is. My brain begins to argue when the demon smiles and nods his agreement. I’m helpless to suppress a tremble that resonates throughout my body.

The demon spreads his hands and gestures towards her grave. “Devon no longer living, who was rendered unwhole as a little child, she was taken and then forsaken. You will remember it all; let me blow your mind again.”

A tear slips from my eye leaving a trail for others to follow. Hidden within myself the images of the past bubble to the surface. I was helpless then just as I am helpless now. I let my sister down in more ways than one. God, what did I let happen?

“Devon lies beyond this portal, take the word of one immortal.” The demons words tug at my conscious but my mind has snapped, spiraling downward-out of control. All these years I’ve tried to keep the pain at bay. I’ve tried in vain to bury the past. He was my father, what was I suppose to do? Anything would have been better than nothing. Oh God, what have I done? I hate my father for stealing her innocence; I hate myself for watching it happen.

“Give your soul to me for all eternity. Release your life to begin another time with her. End your grief with me, there’s another way. Release your life, take your place inside the fire with her.”

My mind spins out of control, Fire? An unintelligible sound escapes my lips as my knees buckle and I grovel in the dirt. “She’s…she can’t be in Hell…can she?”

“Sever now and forever. You’re just another lost soul about to be mine again. See her” You’ll never free her. You must surrender it all and give your life to me again.”

I shake my head but crawl hesitantly forward. I should be the one burning for the sins of our father.

“Fire all your desire? As she begins to turn cold and run out of time. You will shiver until you deliver. You will remember it all; let me blow your mind again.”

His words ring true. I’ll never forget. I’ll never forgive. No matter how hard I try I’ll never escape the past. The final shreds of sanity I have left slowly unravel. I nod my acceptance as I give into his demands. I release my mind and embrace my Hell, an eternity of the past.

 3. Church- Natasha Pasch

Dust balls surround as I kick the broken road below my feet. Nothing is of color, just shades of grey. Society wise– no houses, transportation, grocery stores, or phones exist. Empty streets line with small churches, which are the homes. The barbed wire keeps me and those trapped, one shock and I am gone. Around 120 people reside in this town; I call it Black Devil town.

My identity feels stripped, I am a boy, but angelic. Soft features, pale skin, curly brown hair, and thin subtle lips encompass my origin.

Glancing around, the colors, oh how I miss. I have a few friends, but the only time we see each other is during “bible study.” Today I have alarms set for each of my duties, sub sequentially every day is monotone. The days tend to blur as one for a while. I make markings in my notebook of each day I am here, today is 200.

It’s 7:55am, so I better scurry to the pews.

Today, sub sequentially after eating breakfast at the cafeteria, I walked through the corridor into the pews of the church. Plopped down, human skeletons sat before me. Not in the literal sense, but close enough. We were not allowed to talk or we would be executed. This was one rule no one tampered with, especially in church.

The priest appears like a phantom in his billowed cassock. As he spews word after word, line after line, I blank out, but still try to look alert. If He noticed, I would be whipped. Spouting words of Christianity, I’m numb to the words. No matter how hard I try, no matter how much I read, I still do not believe.

He screams in his bantering evil tone,

“He that covers his sins shall not prosper: but whoever confesses and forsakes them shall have mercy.”

Even with such power, God is the evil one. If he knew what us 100 some people were going through, wouldn’t he fix us, wouldn’t he help us, instead of brainwashing us with his bible and his teachings, which have not done one bit of good? We are left trapped in this bubble of nothingness, surrounded my ash and some oxygen. Is it because I don’t believe I will be one of the forgotten ones, even though God loves “all of his children?”

Why are we all here? The mentally ill should not have this treatment. Are we not humans too?

I remember them taking me away saying I had schizophrenia and was not stable for the real world. I was 13 at the time. I’m still a teen, a scared and tormented teen; I’ve made mistakes. Hitting my old brother, but I could not control the phalanges.

I am now in my rectangle space. White brick surrounds my frail outer shell.

Thoughts race, time warps, clocks melt, and noises vanish.

If I had it my way, my world would no longer be black and white. Oh how I wish for colors to reside amongst, it would make it hurt less.

4. Co- despondent – Allison Johnson

when her mouth opened

birds flew out and hung themselves on the walls

it was always happening

he couldn’t stop looking at her

she was always going

there were postcards to buy

definitions to look up

he knew that

realizations pressed like grass under a blanket

smoke blurring the square moonlight against the walls

silver and dust

regretcolorbynumbers

the calendar peels back its skin

perhaps a blanket for those birds

a bell jar

something that would hold this down

she knew he would only hurt under her skin

his eyes were a forest

wanting to hide someplace forgotten

he could be the branches

she was always reaching

going

it was always happening

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17 Responses to “Interactive Session 5”

  1. miracleezine December 14, 2012 at 6:35 pm #

    @katy You have written a beautiful story. We love the storyline. You have really worked hard on cutting down this story just at some places the break down could be felt at a great scale. Some sentences in the first para are too short, which eventually took feel out of it. You just need to work on that.

    • Katy December 15, 2012 at 8:20 am #

      Thank you, I am so glad you liked the story line. It was extremely difficult to make cuts on this piece. This being the first piece I have ever written like this, (this is almost to embarrassing to say but) i almost cried, because I had to cut it back to so much as you said, taking away from the piece. However, this was an excellent challenge for me, and just in writing this I learned a few things. I am really looking forward to feedback from others. Thank you again.

  2. miracleezine December 14, 2012 at 6:35 pm #

    @Natasha Your fantasy was written very nicely. We have always told you that your vocabulary is the thing that brings spark to your works. Same was the case with this one, the word usage really brought light and feeling into this story though we do want it to be a bit longer. There are a lot of details that could be added to it and will surely make this prose perfect.

    • Natasha December 16, 2012 at 6:24 pm #

      thanks so much for the kind review!! really appreciate it. i feel like i need to add more to this story for sure, i hit a road block and was not sure which direction to go with it—will definitely ponder and keep writing and adding to it for sure

  3. miracleezine December 14, 2012 at 6:36 pm #

    @lesley It is a perfect example of how a fantasy should be written. The word usage and expressions used were beautiful and your idea of using the lyrics was fitted perfectly in the story. We personally love the way you have ended the story. The last para was very nice. We don’t think that there is anything that should be changed. Let’ s see what others think about it.

  4. miracleezine December 14, 2012 at 6:39 pm #

    @allison What you have written could be very hard to write but you have done your job brilliantly. We could imagine the whole scene and that’s what we Iike about it. We love that second line, it was beautiful. We do want you to complete your story and send it to us whenever it isdone. Just curious!

    • Natasha December 16, 2012 at 6:10 pm #

      @ alison–this write was very interesting and also a mysterious vibe to it. i think the first three lines were the most powerful, and drew me in as a reader–very surreal..nice write!

  5. Lesley December 14, 2012 at 10:37 pm #

    @katy This is a very good story, it seems like I remember you posting something similar before. I feel like the pacing goes a little too fast, but it is a lot of ground to cover in a short story, but overall very good!!

    @Natasha I agree that if it were a bit longer you could get your point across better. It’s a good story and I would like to read more of it!!

    @Allison I love the imagery you have created with this poem, Good Job!!

    • Katy December 15, 2012 at 8:06 am #

      Thank you Lesley, this is actually the third short story I have ever written, and fantasy no less. It was a challenge for me but a great one. I hear you on the fast pace, I thought it was just me after reading it a thousand times. I need to work on a simpler story line next time, maybe? Thank you so much reading and letting me know what you think. I am looking forward to reading yours.

    • Natasha December 16, 2012 at 6:29 pm #

      thanks lesley–i hit a road block and was not sure where to go with the story!! i definitely will ponder and add to the story 🙂 thanks for the comments

  6. Katy December 16, 2012 at 8:33 am #

    @Lesley I loved your piece! I too personally loved the lyrics in here as well. I thought it added a lot of character to the story. From my perspective it makes the demon sound more chilling, along with the excellent detail you provided in in the beginning with the demon touching her. I thought this was great, It read really well, and flowed right to the end, leaving a bit to the imagination. Excellent Job!

    • Lesley December 16, 2012 at 5:29 pm #

      Thanks!!

  7. Natasha December 16, 2012 at 6:23 pm #

    @Katie–i felt the story was really rushed, and i felt confused in some parts. it was a nicely written story, but sometimes some of the sentences were also really short. there was a lot of characters and backstory to all of them, that i feel like this story could actually be a brainstorming story for what a longer story could be, or even a full novel

    • Katy December 16, 2012 at 11:25 pm #

      Thank you for the feedback, and i agree with you 100%. I think this needed to be simple, less characters I am considering turning this in to a longer piece, I had to cut so much out. I am learning from the writing that has been posted from all of you in this genre, so something to practice on with a word limit. Again thank you I appreciate your thoughts!

      • Natasha December 17, 2012 at 2:38 am #

        your welcome!! no problem, no story can be perfect within a week, i think we all did our best with time/word limits!! it would be interesting if we had a week where we could then submit our finalized stories of this genre, without a word limit (but word limit is understandable, most people dont have time to read a full length novel or even a 10 page novel most of the time)

  8. Katy December 18, 2012 at 10:33 am #

    @Natasha
    This piece has a great amount of detail, and yes your vocabulary absolutely adds to the setting of the piece. I could feel myself there in this desolate place, and though there were no pictures it came across as a dark dusty, sad place that people went to be forgotten,This was so fascinating to see where this character was going, as you talk about schizophrenia and “treating the mental ill better” so I am guessing this was set in the past, this makes me want to hear more. The words like execution at the beginning pulled me in, what a thought! Also describing them as skeletons, how horrible this must have been. Very well written, and I agree, extra week, no word limit – oh the possibilities! This was a pleasure to read!

  9. Serena January 5, 2013 at 11:12 am #

    @Allison I really loved your poem – I loved the imagery and I love that you made me feel a variety of emotions throughout the whole piece. I also loved the originality of it all – it was so different but so well-written. Good job! 😀

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