Category: themed issue

The wood is dark, the trees are cold—

Tall tales of danger here are told.

Black streams beneath the branches pass

To bring to life accounts of old.

 

This swamp, it has a soul I fear:

A threat it holds for mortals mere.

It seeks to bring within its fold

I touch the side of his face to make sure he’s really there. I pray that he’s not just a figment of my imagination, another delusion. I fear that nothing is real anymore, but he grounds me. He’s my anchor in this seemingly pointless existence. He makes me feel as if I’m not crazy, as if there’s nothing wrong with me. He tells me I’m perfect, and for some reason I believe him even when everyone else says my condition is getting worse. Those words that escape his lips, those sentences that seem to caress my inner being and soothe my broken mind are like heroin. He speaks as if every word, every syllable, is a secret for my ears only; whispering sweet, twisted lullabies in the night until I lose consciousness. I fear I will lose him, this perfect being that calms me so. I should feel rage, I should feel resentment for having to depend so solely on one lone creature, but I can’t feel any of those. I could never occupy such negative thoughts, not toward him, not ever. He tells me stories, describes to me worlds that I’ve never known. He told me that he was once an angel, a beautiful angel with wings as soft as clouds and color as white as freshly fallen snow. His face is always so wistful when he tells me these things, as if he longs or yearns for what he once was. I tell him he’s beautiful as he is, and that he needs no wings to make my heart soar. He always laughs at me when I say this, which I suppose I should be upset by, but I’m not, because his laugh is like elegant strings plucked from an old harp. He tells me we can be together forever, but there is one thing I must do first. He whispers corrupted schemes to me like they’re sweet nothings as I lie with my head on his chest. At first I’m fearful, but then I remember that he would never do anything to hurt me so I concede and do as he says. Doubt never enters my mind as I grab the knife and slice long rivers of crimson into my flesh. “We’ll be together forever,” he whispers again, and I feel the truth in his words. As I fall down deep into the dark abyss he catches me, and I know then that I am truly and forever his.

 

My eardrums were ringing from the recent flash bang that was hurled in my direction.

An explosion echoes on my eight, and I turn to see my brother in arms, Ace.

His mouth is open in a shout, but I can’t entirely hear everything.

I swiftly survey the surroundings.

Ace has a huge hunk of shrapnel protruding from him left knee, courtesy of a nearby grenade.

No hesitation.

Dodging bullets, I manage to get to Ace.

Tourniquet is out and on his leg within seconds to help minimize the bleeding.

I sling him up over my shoulders and start looking for the nearest shelter.

“GRENADE AT THREE!”

As soon as the words are outta Ace’s mouth, our other brother Tony throws himself on it.

It’s gruesome out here.

Loosing brothers left and right ain’t easy.

Save the ones you can and mourn the ones you can’t.

In a warzone, it’s all about striving for survival.

Trying to keep yourself and your brothers alive for even just a few more hours.

Sarge grabs our fallen brother and cradles him close.

He takes Tony’s dog tags and the letter to his mom from his vest.

It’s never easy leaving a brother behind.

When you leave a brother, you leave a piece of yourself.

“Ya gotta lemme go Chief! I’m too heavy!”

I look at Tony and I look back over my shoulder at Ace.

“You’re my brother. You’re never gonna be too heavy.”

 

 

She reached for a hand

That wasn’t there.

She looked into eyes

That weren’t staring back.

She leaned in for a kiss

That would never come.

She laughed at a joke

That was never said.

She brushed hair out of a face

That wasn’t there.

She felt a hole in her heart

That would never be filled.

That aching of once was

But will never again be.

 

The queen hates today, for it is not just any day. No, it is the 14th of Frogg, and that means it’s Oggling day. It is the only day of the year when everyone (including the queen and excluding me because….well because I can) has to be nice to one another. They also have to talk in rhymes the entire day, since this story wouldn’t be as good without it. She knew this day was coming, but she still couldn’t prepare enough. It’s bad enough having to live on a moon that circles the planet Crescendon, what with it constantly pumping out music. Maybe she can just stay in her big gray castle in her big gray bed eating her favorite box of Graysin Bran Crunch cereal. It’s not like there is anyone in the castle who could come by and bother her any-

“My queen, my queen!” cried Ten, who I forgot about completely when writing that last sentence, “there’s something that you need to see!” The queen groans and slowly rolls out of bed only to crash to the floor. Ten wants to help her up but he’s just a big grey blob, it’s not like he can do anything to help. Plus he knows the queen gets a kick out of doing things only she can do.

“What is it, Ten? I hate to be disturbed. Couldn’t you come in without saying a word?”

“The people have gathered and now they are waiting! We must get to them with little delaying!”

So much for staying in bed. Might as well get this over with, the queen thinks to herself as she gets up from the floor. Then it hit her: maybe she can stop this whole day completely. Yes, there is one in Oggland that can help her with this problem, and she knows he will still be in his workshop. A grin spreads on her face, exposing her razor sharp fangs. Today might not be a bad day after all.

Six was almost finished his latest creation, the Rainbot 5000. True, it didn’t serve any actual purpose and true, it hasn’t been tested but he can get test results from 62 later. He always did like 62, since 62 never disagreed to anything. He still has time to tweak his new Rainbot before the gathering starts. Not like anyone would disturb him in the middle of hi-

“Six, I need your help today. Make the gathered Oggs go away,” rhymed the queen, once again interrupting my narrative as she bursts into his workshop. Six turns to the queen, his glasses reflecting her dark red eyes.

“What do you want, a giant Ogg? Maybe I can make all the toilets clog….”

“Just do something, and do it fast.  Only 4 more pages this story can last.”

With that Yoda-like line from the queen, Six mulls over his choices. While clogging the toilets seems like a funny idea, Two will probably try to unclog it with Six’s toothbrush…again. A giant Ogg is actually impossible to make, he just said that for rhyming purposes.  There must be something he can use….

Then it hits him, and I mean literally hits him. The valve from the Rainbot 5000 flew off and collides with Six’s head. In between his large thoughts of pain and agony, a bright idea comes to him. This is the perfect opportunity for the Rainbot 5000! He grins and turns back to the queen.

“I’ll use my Rainbot, which I made with care. That should give them quite a scare!”

“See to it, Six, and don’t dilly dally. Come on Ten, let’s get to that rally,” says the queen. When the door slams shut, Six begins working on the machine for operation. Soon everyone will know the true genius that is Six…! Or at least they’ll stop calling him nerd boy, though probably not.

The queen finally arrives at the gathering, her black form looming over the other gray blobs. Her platform is much smaller than she expected, though with the cutbacks she had made over the past year it was no surprise. The cutbacks are unneeded mind you; she just needs more money to pay for her cereal addiction. She steps onto her platform and looks out over the crowd, and all goes silent. The queen is beginning to get worried. Whatever Six is going to do it better happe-

“Look, up in the sky! It…makes me want to cry,” cries 220. I don’t even know why I bother narrating for these things anymore.

Ten blobs over the podium. “There’s your distraction, my queen. One lean, mean, colorful rainbow machine.” The Oggs are not very concerned about the rainbow, however, since it can’t really hurt any-

“It’s going to eat us!” shrieks 498, even though I just said it was harml-

“The end is nigh!” sobs 96. They are not listening to m-

“I need an adult!” yells 50, who has officially crossed the line. If they want an evil rainbow they will get an evil rainbow. So let’s do this instead:

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the rainbow bends down and begins sucking up the Oggs at the gathering! Hmmm…good, but not good enough. Let’s say a rogue Spice Girls song from the planet Crescendon hits the moon and causes the normal rainbow to become a Spicy Rainbow. Now that is something to fear.

“Six, fix this now. I don’t care how,” demands the queen. There is only so much “If You Wanna Be My Lover” one queen can take. The Oggs were of secondary concern, it’s not like she has 456,789 of them or anything. If the music stops she may even consider calling the crisis over and just letting the rainbow do its thing. Then again fewer Oggs means fewer forces for invasions. But what if Two is eaten in the process of letting this thing rampage? It’s a big dilemma for the queen. It was then that the rainbow dipped down into the queen’s cereal production factory, sucking up one of the ten Graysin Bran cereal vats.

Now it’s personal.

Ten turns to the queen, and sees the fangs jutting from her mouth as she scowls. There is one very obvious answer to this solution; I may as well try to get her to do it, he thinks to himself.

He inches closer to the queen. “Maybe you should apologize? That seems to be the most wise.”

“I will not say I’m sorry, no way! I will not be nice on Oggling day!”

Ten is actually right for once. A simple apology to me can end this situation really quick. The queen, however, has yet to see this for herself.

Six blobs over to podium now too. “Just say it already and be done. It’s not like you have to become a nun.” The rainbow has picked up nine of the ten vats now, and is preparing to go for the last. The queen hesitates. Me? Be nice? She thinks to herself, I shouldn’t have to be, I’m the queen! The rainbow is now bending down into the factory. If she is to apologize, it better be right now. The queen looks over at the rainbow, and then down at the Oggs below, who are now staring at her. The spicy rainbow is only inches from the vat now. In just a few more seconds the vat will be up in the ai-

“On behalf of my subjects, I’m sorry!” yells the queen, staring into the sky. The rainbow stops dead in its tracks. The Spice Girls music fades. “We shouldn’t have interrupted the story so many times. I should just learn to be nice to people on this one day of the year.” I’m surprised the rainbow actually worked. Well I guess I don’t need it anymore. Through the power of narration the rainbow vanishes, releasing all of its captive Oggs and cereal vats.

The queen gives Six a pat on the back.

“I want you all to remember this, okay? This is another reason to cancel Oggling day.” The queen steps down off the platform and proceeds to eat a giant box of Graysin Bran in her room.

With that, our story comes to a close. If there is one thing to gain from this story just remember this: being nice to people on one day of the year shouldn’t displease to the point of almost getting everyone killed. Well that and don’t interrupt people in the middle of stories. That’s just rude.

 

 

Each word you say

Makes an impact,

Touches someone’s life,

Builds them up

Or breaks them down,

Gives them wings to fly

Or chains to hold them down.

 

Why not make the word a good one?