Friends

With friends in pain it is as important to be caring as it is to be cautious. Sure I hope you are okay is good, but it is so generic. 'I hope you're okay' is something anyone can write down. If you really care you will sit for a little while and think. When a friend was sick at the age of 16 with chicken pocks days prior to a massive show she was meant to be in with me, I took the time to have a conversation. The appreciation I got from her was enough, days later I sat in her house listening to her bored rambles. It wasn't a complicated conversation just a normal everyday 'omg did you hear, jimmy...'.

Tonight one of my not so closest mates split with the girl he loved, honestly he would talk for ages about her. In this case I didn't say much, I sent him a internet hug and reminded him of his great personally warning him not to let the pain take that away and use the pain for a better him. Then I gave him space because that's what some people need. Space.

Ultimately its trying to judge the person and what they want. I can't say I'm good at it but neither are many people my age. My friends spent 3 months ignoring me because they thought that was what I would want after a little bit of a tragic time in my life, in reality I was incredibly bored and lonely. I am well known for smothering people a little bit too much when they are upset. Get the balance and you are set for life.

PRx

Greed

                                 

                                  Chapter One- Naomi- 2013/14- Part 2

Being back home for the holidays suited Naomi fine, aside from the constant nagging of her mother. The chores, the family dinners with forced conversations, lack of peace. She longed for the city and the person who waited there, but spent many nights walking the country paths. It was a strange mix of sadness and joy, of loneliness and content. The holidays came and went faster than anyone could have imagined. Christmas day was spent with family jokes and happiness, but she felt detached, like a ghost watching a alternative life. It was the love, the love for the soul elsewhere that kept her from being fully there. Soon after it came time to pack everything up, twelfth night had come and gone. Boxes took away the strange, familiar masks of the season and tucked them away tight in the loft. The nights became shorter and her walks became later and later trying to catch that twilight sky in all its beauty.

In the world around, kept moving by the need for money and to do something, be someone, oblivious to the slow time bubble of the Scottish village, things changed. Slowly laws became darker and darker. Taxes, slowly at first, rose unnoticed. Charities started to melt away, oppressed by ruthless money collectors. It was turning the earth into quite chaos.

Soon Naomi found herself back on that train shooting through the hills entertaining herself by 'door spotting'. Over the holidays so many of this huge iron contraptions had joined the hundreds already spoiling the traditional British country. Who knew what they are for, but just looking at them introduced a unfounded sense of dread.  Eventually she got bored as the skyscrapers started making uneven bumps on the horizon and turned to her ipod, oh the trusty sound of guitars hatching out a odd entrancing sound. This music carried her home through the mass crowds and busy bodies. Up the stairs of the underground now abandoned, no blankets lumped over unclean bodies, no beggars or fresh music. The people Naomi had greeted daily on her way to work, brought coffees, had disappeared. No thought crossed her mind despite this, all that filled her heart was the promise of the warm hug and his face smiling.

The door opened and there he was Logan. His tall figure filled the door frame, more muscled than she remembered. His hair dark as always was swept into a messy handsome mop on his head, less hair than before. That wasn't something she liked, when she was in town she banned him from going anywhere near the hairdressers. His eyes were just the same though, as was the lopsided grin that told her, at last, she was home.

'Naomi, oh little Naomi. It's shocking how late you can be some days.' He winked, quickly swiftly almost unnoticeable to anyone watching.
'You've cut your hair.' The cold sharp tone of her voice startled him, frosty, unloving.
'Well... I... umm something had to be done, I could barely seeing' the stammer broke it, she could hold the act no longer, laughing she wrapped her arms round his shoulders.
'Aww, you know I always love you, loosen up a little' and with that she kissed him fully, passionately and fell through the doorway.

The window was one of the best for a view of the city. On a morning as clear as this you could see for miles, you could see the normally busy shopping streets, the emerald parks and so much. It was too early for much to be happening, but slowly people started moving. The peace of it all felt so awe-inspiring considering the noise that would come later as a side effect of the crushing crowds. In the country Naomi loved the twilight, but this time people were already moving to work on the farms. In the city it was a complete different life, the night was no where near this, the crazy bars worked until ridiculous hours. Party late, rise late. The twilight of the city. The thought wrapped around her, blanketing her in the warmth of her world.

'Why. Listen I appreciate you are a city girl but...' the sentence died away. He sat back, gently on cream sofa as if any sound could disrupt this image. Just watching his girl at the window, watching the feelings the radiated so strongly and basking in the peace.

Slightly shorter than Part 1 but for a reason. Exams. Sorry guys, I hope I can make it up next time.

PRx

Greed

                                   

                               Chapter one- 2013- Naomi- Part One 

Nipping at noses, the cold icy wind swept through the streets, down through the drains, into the underground. Scarfs wrapped themselves around everyone's necks, grey ones, black ones, brown ones of all shapes and patterns tucked under coats buttoned up to keep this breeze from chilling bones. Despite this, the world was a buzz with noise and movement. Strings lit up the streets, a blaze with color. Sweet music surrounded everything, wrapping it with the invincible joy of the time.

People spilled into tight huddles on the platforms, luggage piled clumsily in all the gaps. Friends and family's gathered waiting to go somewhere, do something, create special memories, paused only by the train. Tall walls surrounded them, any other time they would have seemed trap like, but not today. Tinsel trees and baubles decorating them created a barrier, like nothing could wreck this happiness.

The steps leading down, sat the homeless, the ill. Thick tattered coats wrapped tightly preciously around them hats sitting by their feet. Giving and love, the theme of the festivities, lead these hats to be flowing with coins from anyone who could spare a coin. Of course not everyone could, then there were those who could but their purses were too buried in their bags.

Tucked away from all this, at the furthest end of the station, a couple stands wrapped in each others embrace. The dark long hair of the young lady whipped around but they stood, oblivious. Just like that, the next train passed and the one after. None taking them to the right place. Around the pair, the crowds changed, constantly thinning and thickening at the blink of the eye. Eventually the time came and they unwrapped themselves.

They must have been between 16 to 18, both tall, thin. The darkness of her hair contrasted the bright blond of his, her pale complexion turned almost ghostly against his tan. But both glowing in the light of each others smiles. Train doors open, they stick together until the last moment, waiting for the flow of footsteps to slow, treasuring every last moment. Suddenly its over and they part with a swift kiss, the dark hair disappears into the tin tube.

Filled up seats tired her eyes as she realized the long journey would have to be, in the main part, a standing one. No worries, at least it won't be too boring. In goes the headphones and out goes reality. Grouchy London workers roll their eyes at the stereotypical situation of her tight black jeans, leather jacket and loud blaring music. Darkness wraps around the tracks as the train ambles further and further into the wide country, eventually breaking out onto the surface after the deep maze of tunnels.  The extravagant stations slowly changed to small platforms, more and more pouring off the train, less joining. Eventually, long after the feeling in her leg had left her, a seat was left free and she practically leaped into it.

Long after she had fallen asleep the final stop came and she woke with a start looking around at the empty carriage, checking her bags in case of theft. Satisfied, she got up and wandered alone out of the train, alone through the gates and alone through the streets of her little Stirlingshire village. The hill leading to her parents farm house leaving her breathless and tired, yet she still stopped to appreciate the beauty surrounding her, the hills of deep black against the navy sky, the forests. All this blemished only by the huge steel and concrete door dug in to the cliffs of the nearby mountain, things like this had been popping up everywhere since 2012's 'fright night'. God save them if they had to use it. She shook her head clear of these thoughts, sighed and walked slowly inside.

"NAOMI! Thank jeese your home! I was so worried, I know, I know I shouldn't have been, but I can't help it. What if the alarm had gone of and we were separated forever, not worth thinking about. Hows Stefan? Still fit? Still working at the bank? You have so much to tell me, come into the kitchen, I'll put a brew on.'

Naomi flinched at the embrace, embarrassed though there was no one there to see. Then followed reluctantly into the polished silver room.

"I'm old enough to fend for myself mom and it didn't go off now did it? I'm fine stop worrying."

The words tumbled out, mumbled, hiding her annoyance at having to endure human interaction when she just wanted to be alone.

'I know darling, but I can't exactly just decide to not care.'

She sighed and picked up the kettle.

'I suppose you had better go sort yourself out after your journey. I made your bed, but you might want a shower. There are clean PJ's in the airing cupboard.'

'Thanks'

Upstairs the red and white walls of her room awaited her, strangely clean of pictures or anything that may have suggested a person lived here. Of course there was a bed, not slept in for many months and a wardrobe, empty of clothes. There was a lot of work needed to be done. Not tonight though, tonight she would fall asleep and dream of her love in the country so south of her. Dream of the big city lights.

PRx 

Greed

                                        Prologue- Buttons

I used to have dreams, like everyone else. Dreams of a paradise with rivers flowing, glistering through the bright hills, reflecting the blueness of the sun filled sky. They say that places like this used to exist before. They speak of skies which blended from pinks to reds through to orange, yellow and finally blue. They speak of plants all shades of green, all shapes. Flowers all colors. They say the country was like this in some places as far as your eyes could see.

In other places, they tell us of buildings that reached higher than anything that existed, packed so tightly together that people walked like sheep through streets. Yet in these dreary streets lived little gems. A jazz club where the music was so sweet it could make you slip into the dream state. Theaters full of talent, full of story and wonder. Schools buzzing full of learning eager students and so many more wonders. I personally don't believe this, but they tell us of a place, not a real place, where you could share anything, do anything from a small box not even that a small book like thing. You could talk to people face to face from the other side of the world. This myth has many names, the internet, the web, the net, the inter-web.

It wasn't appreciated though, from this place evil grew. People lay dying staving on the streets while men with more money than they could use lived peacefully, happily, greedily in their high penthouses. These greedy people held the balance of the world in their hands, they destroyed lives, separated families, broke hearts, even killed. They were the ones with their hands on the button of death.  These people were the ones who had everything handed to them on a plate, they may have worked hard for it in the beginning, or not, but eventually they forget this and forget the struggle. They forget how hard life is. Yet they were the ones who had control of the lives of people who had to work for a meal.

My Grandma was the only older person who talked like this. She believe in the truth, never sugar coating for the kids. Every night we would gather round her, nieces, nephews, brother sister, friends, and listened. She never said she was the worst off, but she certainly wasn't rich. Despite this any spare money went to friends, animals or people in need. She told us, that when she was our age, the greed was there but she fought against it. It took years, but it was possible.

She was one of the only ones who fought though. Soon the evil grew and the rich gained more and more power. It was bound to happen one day, that day they slipped. They failed their 'duties' to protect us. In barely a week, this paradise was gone.


PRx

History

I am quite a big Philippa Gregory fan as many know so here is a short based on her writing:

'Surely you could run? Beg her forgiveness. You are not the one at fault here, if god wanted you on the throne that is the way it should be, should it not?'

She sighed, her long bright hair falling deep past her shoulders in pretty waves.

'Do not tempt me my child. I was not a queen of god, but a queen of my fathers ambition and my cousins pride.Barely a queen at all. She has and will always be the rightful queen. She is coming for me there is no doubt about it and when she does whether or not he does the deed immediately or holds me out of mercy, I am not long for this world. For you see there is no greater threat to a queen than that of the previous one or perhaps even the heir.'

I gasped at the dark plots whirling in the minds of the queens greatest friends. At what the words my dear friend and mistress was saying. At what they implied. The thought of putting sister up against sister, Tudor up against Tudor. Was there no end to this want for power?

'Your grace, forgive me for saying but can you not persuade your father to give in. This queen may be merciful now but with the threat of the princess's plots,no doubt in my mind they will be found, she will have no option.'

For that moment I wished I was back home, away from the always plotting courts and the fierce minds of the others. Only for that moment had I wished I could be back to that small shack my father had built. Turning away I tried to hide these longings from my Jane, as if the thoughts alone could be heard for miles around. Yet that was not enough for the sharp mind of this lady.

'My dear, faithful Rose, I would not wish any trouble upon you. Today I release you from my service and you may choose to go home or run to Mary as a servant wanting a change of coat.'

'If I may your grace, I would follow you to the scaffold and beyond for there has been no greater mistress I would have wished to serve. And no greater friend than you.'

Taaadaah 
PRx

Words

When nothings wrong that's a good thing right?
And when nothings right that's wrong
When there's nothing to do that's a bad thing too
But when there's nothing to say it can go either way
When there's nothing in your fridge that really sucks
When there's nothing in your house you're out of luck

No one is another sad word,
When no one's in your life, you've left the herd,
Or no one cares at all,
But when no one hates or harms the word turns good,
When peace fills the halls,

Its funny how these words can change,
and they are not the only ones,
The English language is Strange.

Of Unfriendly Kind

Stab me in the heart and hope to die,
A young boys want,
A lovers cry.

Confused minds and painful rests,
A crushing, unforgiving chest.

The Sleeping wants,
And Hidden minds,
Memories haunts of unfriendly kind.

This is the teenager lovers lullaby,
A mucked up mess saying goodbye,
to the broken hearts of unfriendly kind.

PRx

Curiosity

So here I am again, another day another short thing. I'm not sure you can call this one a story:

Curiosity killed the cat. Every day curiosity kills and every day curiosity saves. Its not always a bad thing though.

Elliot had never considered herself a curious person, if there was a locked room to her she didn't care. In school she accepted what the people said, then would go home and think nothing of it. If people had secrets they had secrets, what was it to her what went on in their lives?

Frankie was the opposite, if there was a locked room she couldn't sleep until she had discovered whats inside. In school if people said something, she would wonder and wonder about it until she had unearthed why things were that way. If people had secrets, well she always found out. For this she was always getting into trouble and tight situations.

Just as their personalities were opposite so was where they lived, Elliot lived on the council estate in a small terraced house with the smallest garden on the wrong side of the town. Frankie lived in a house where the garden stretched all the way round and the only way to reach it was to go up the private road that lead only to her home. Elliot went to a public school, where she was constantly ignored, not that that was a bad thing for her. Frankie went to a preppy private school where her teachers constantly tried to whip her into 'a proper young lady', where all of the stuck up students hated her and she hated them.

This huge house was never enough for Frankie, the cold floors and large rooms had long been explored by her and now she was bored. With her parents rarely home, she took to the gardens, then when they had bored her, she took to the streets of town.

Here she found a completely different world. No more perfect plants, but wilted, dying, overgrown thorny bushes. No clean and clear road, now twisted alleys and bumpy tracks. Then there was the cans and bottles laying at every corner, the smoke of cigarettes thick and strangling and the noise that seemed to be coming from nowhere. The further she walked the worse it got, till the point even she could no longer stand. She turned to go back and found she had lost her way.

As she stood there, she found thoughts and answers running clearly into her mind. The reason her parents had always took her out of town for days out, why they had banned her from coming here. Why, even though there were schools in this town, she had to travel three towns over everyday for lessons.

Meanwhile, Elliot was sat in her room watching her 4 year old sister sleep in the small bed, when her mom shouted up to her.
'Oi, Ell, Jackson is coming round in 5 and that's how long you've got until you have to bugger off. We want the house tonight, no kids. So take your sister with you.'
She groaned and stood up deciding she will wake her sister last and started collecting up a few things. A blanket, her purse with a single ten pound note tucked inside, a toy, a pack of cards, her coat and last the sleeper pram. Her sister was old enough not to have to use it, but it was late and she would want to sleep. Then she shook her sister, who looked at her confused.
'Whaat now?'
Elliot couldn't help but smile at the attempt to sound like her and the way it had come out no more vicious or angry than a young kittens meow.
'Jackson' she whispered quietly 'we have to go out.'
The teenager picked up her sister and wrapped her up in the pram.
'Go to sleep little kitty'

In the darkness of the street, a door opened spraying light into the mist. Frankie waited, apprehensive about this interruption of her adventure. From the light emerged a pram and a smallish girl wrapped up warmly, it was only then she realized how, in her words, 'bloody cold' she was.

Elliot didn't notice the shadow until she was mere meters from it. True to her nature she ignored it and continued on her journey.

Frankie had expected at least a look or a glance from the girl, which would have given her the chance to ask. Yet nothing. It was as if she didn't exist at all and Frankie wasn't used to this. So she followed, expecting her answers to be with this teen.

Minutes passed, the small family leading the shadow through even more back alleys and strange paths until they reached a pub lie building and stopped. Except this wasn't a pub as such, it couldn't have been because instead of windows there were boards and the fence was high and metal. Still Frankie followed. This is where she caught up with the girl, who at this time was trying to force open the stiff door.

'Would you appreciate a hand?'
Silence sounded for what seemed ages as the two girls took in each others image.
'What?' Compared to the polite confidence of Frankie's voice, this sounded like, well like the bottom end of a mongrel.
'I'm sorry to interrupt your travel, but could you please help me. My name is Frankie and I might be just a bit lost.'

They talked for a little while, or it could have been a long time. Where they were there was no real way of telling. Frankie asked question after question, Elliot didn't mind too much. They talked about family, school and all the usual teenager things. Frankie talked a lot, about her life, about her boredom and how she had come to be here. Slowly but surely as they talked, they walked and soon Frankie had found herself back at the entrance to her road.

Walking a up the path, she continued the conversation. Elliot's replies came rarely, getting smaller and further in between until it was as if she wasn't even there. Frankie turned around, to see nothing.

Years later and Frankie still wonders about this night. Once a week she still walks those streets, but their paths never crossed again. Elliot never met Frankie again but a piece of her stuck and through that she confronted her mom and no longer put up with the way things were.

I will admit, it became a little rushed near the end. I got a bit bored, sorry. I hope you like and remember a little bit of curiosity is a good thing, don't just accept things the way they are, but don't go too overboard because you might find yourself lost.

PRx

Hi- A Kids Story

So this is my first Blog,

I'm sitting here right now with my little kitten i got only 3 days ago and dreaming of all future things. In fact right now I'm going to go clean my teeth, I will be right back. Sorry!

Okay, back and settled in bed. Ready for a story?

Silver wasn't a old dog, but scars from previous stories had left their toll; for one thing he no longer had claws as such, just metal blades. For another his fur had been burned and bleached, leaving him with strange black and silver stripes running along his back. He wasn't in pain, don't worry this isn't a sad story. Every night, when his owners were tucked up in bed, he would cautiously pick the lock on his front door and step out into the moonlight.

What we miss as night sleepers is the nightlife and those who choose to stay awake are blissfully unaware, for anything we might find unusual, we block out through big headed assumptions that no other animal is like us or blame it on the lighting. So in short, no one noticed the dog wandering. wssssssvb (that was my cat, he likes keyboards).

The funny thing is, he wasn't the only dog wandering that night. There was fluffy, the next door neighbors little  Westie who resented his name. Jackson the macho Labrador, with his little Yorkie girlfriend Leana. Then there were the few he didn't know very well and of course the Street Dogs. Little bit of important information on the Street Dogs, you stay away from them at all costs.

Well, all of them but Fang. Grey, wise and old Fang was a different sort. Silver picked his way through the little alleys and gaps until he found the junkyard and heaven for the homeless. Chucked out food and blankets littered everywhere, occasionally the odd thing that could be used as a shelter, this is where Fang lived. Nerves are never good in these places, the rougher ones can smell the fear of a posh dog for miles. That is why Silver found himself faced with the roughened ears and scars of Spike.

Want to find out what happens next? Stick around. Honestly I cannot promise I will finish it but maybe I will. 

At least I can promise the stories will keep coming, littered with cliches and grammatical errors. Lets just hope they get better.

As for me, I'm going to sleep soon I guess. I really could do with a hot chocolate. Well at least I am all warm in bed with marmite snuggled up on my blanket. Did you know... kittens claws are sharp? My arms look like they have been used to sharpen knives at a ninja school. Jeeze.

Anyway, see you soon. Nighty night to you all, спокойной ночи.

PRx