Sweet Words of Nonsense

To Whom it May Concern,

There is a point in everyone’s life, where we have to sit back and examine all they’ve done. I’ve done quite well for a woman of my age and stature. It’s the year of 1692. Women cannot do much in this day and age. However, I could never see myself becoming nothing more than a brute’s wife. Of course, I would not mind bearing children someday, but I want to do something first. I want to make a change in the world… I want to become a writer; easier said than done.

With these thoughts in mind, I hurried off to go buy groceries for mother, trying not to trip on my skirt along the way. Father was one of the men who served close to the king, so we did not see him much, except on rare occasions where the king let him go.

“How’s it going Meredith?” The baker called out to me as I poked my head inside the bakery.

“It has been a good day! I have just come to pick up that delivery for Mother.” Sweetly, I smiled at him. All of the townsfolk expected marriage of us one day, but I just did not see it happening. And so yet again, I was on my way.

Next, it was to the bookstore, what a wonderful place that was! I could spend hours a day writing nothing but nonsense if I felt like it! It was truly a liberating experience.

However, it was also frowned upon for someone such as a noble’s daughter to spend her time with a quill in hand, sweating over a piece of parchment. I was to be in etiquette classes right now, performing the duties of a good, loyal, wife. I knew I was a disappointment to everyone, most certainly Father, but it was my desire to have my voice-my infinite amount of thoughts- be heard in some form or another.

Just as I thought that, I saw father along with other kingsmen burst through the door, disturbing the peaceful silence in the store. He strode up to me, took my hand, and tore my parchment in half.

Beginning to tear up, I cried, “Why father? Why would you destroy something so very dear to me?”

“Dear to you? How is this-this nonsense precious? It’s despicable, it’s filth! Nothing more than garbage keeping you from fulfilling your duties as a future wife and mother! You are to give it up at once or serve the consequences.”

“I will never give writing up. Nothing you say or do to me will ever change my mind.”

Feeling my resolve, he took my hand once more, shook his head sadly, and walked me through the town to the castles dungeon.

So how am I writing this to you now; you may ask? Well, let us say this will be my final piece to the world, for I write this letter on a torn piece of clothing, using my own blood as my ink. I must have faith that someday this will reach someone, someday people will appreciate my work, my writing, my sweet words of nonsense. I must have faith that my words will live on even if I cannot.

Sincerely Yours,

Meredith Catherine Allen

Too Late

“Mommy, Mommy!” The little girl cries.

“Not now Sweety, Mommy’s busy.”

Yet her falsely lit smile reveals a lie.

 

“Daddy, Daddy, let’s play catch!”

The Father, just glares irritably.

“Not now Son, maybe in a little bit.”

 

Now that little girl is a teenager,

Who is dating that boy.

No longer is she playing with her dolls.

A pregnancy test will replace her old toys.

 

“Honey, Sweety! The old mother moans.

“Not now Mom, I’m going out.”

And so the elderly woman sits alone.

 

“Father, Oh no! I’ve made a mistake!”

“What is it Son?”

“This girl…I got her pregnant.”

 

And now sits the daughter, in the waiting room.

The boy holds her hand,

No longer are they on their own.

 

The parents, they apologize,

They were never there.

But the children sadly shake their heads.

And promise their child better.

 

Now sickly and old the parents beg,

They beg for forgiveness, just one more chance.

“No Mom.”

“No Dad.”

The now grown children never gave their parents another glance.

 

Who can you have faith in?

If not your own parents,

How are you to learn to trust,

If to the ones who’re supposed to love you,

You’re nothing but transparent.

 

Faith

Why have faith in others?

In the end you only have yourself.

Where are those others,

When you’re alone in your Hell?

 

Why have faith in others?

They’re never there,

Only when you’re brought down,

Do they come with open glares.

 

Why have faith in others,

When you’ve already given up,

There’s no point in believing,

When they’ve never shown you love.

 

No, instead those others are sitting somewhere,

Holding your heart in open palms,

Knowing you’ll never do anything,

Never once knowing what they’ve done wrong.

 

Yet despite all these lines,

There’s that one part that still hopes.

That one tiny part with faith in society,

That someday you will no longer stand alone.

Rejection

I’m tired of always being the one in the corner,

The freak with Arthritis,

Crying out no one loves me.

 

I look in the mirror, and guess what I see?

Shattered pieces of glass,

Leaving only a faceless room glaring back at me.

 

No longer will I be afraid,

I don’t want to be alone,

These were the thoughts streaming through my head,

When you walked into my home.

 

This fear of rejection,

Contrasting with this dazzling connection,

I felt when I met you.

 

Yet still; how are we to be together,

You say it’s forever, when forever means never.

I refuse to live for “others” anymore.

 

It’s tiring; taking everyone’s advice,

Always dressing to impress,

With the same dull smile plastered onto a reflection,

Of what I’m supposed to be.

 

Your lips say you want to get to know me,

When your mind fails to realize,

Is that there is no me;

Just a reflection of what others see.

 

I’m awkward and strange; tired and ashamed,

Blonde and sarcastic; quietly insane.

Take it or leave it.

This is me.

Inside a Psychopath

“We’ve all got the power to kill in our hands, most of us are afraid to use it. Those who aren’t, control life itself.” In our society, we are naturally, unknowingly, irrevocably attracted to violence. Although we deny it, what would the world come to if violence just stopped? Perhaps that is why the thought of World Peace is just an unattainable wish.

As I enter my apartment, I glance around. There is blood splattered randomly accross the room. I am scared at first, but soon remember the events that took place the night before. “It happened again,” I cry, dropping to my knees, trying to hold in the tears. I am a monster. Entering the next room, I slowly gulp, already knowing what I will see. There is a girl, or what’s left of her anyways. She was such a pretty girl; long blonde hair, blue eyes filled with nothing but bright thoughts of the future, quite tall and skinny too. She was head of some cheerleading squad to some unimportant high school nearby. I didn’t mean to kill her…it just kind of…happens.

I should probably clear up who I am first and foremost. My name is Melody, I’m 5’2, not overweight yet not underweight either, my hair is short and brown, and my eyes are the color of dry mud on a Summer’s day, and I am absolutely completely ordinary. Never was I the captain of the cheerleading squad, Hell, I didn’t even get the chance to go to a game. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t bullied or anything, quite the opposite. I was invisible. Not even the teachers knew who I was. Sometimes, I’d sit under the bleachers and watch all of the falsely gorgeous cheerleaders practice, only wishing I could be one of them. My home life was always ok. My parent’s loved me, or at least made an effort to. What was there to love? I had no special talents, no quirky qualities to me. My parents looked through me, never at me; always looking at my pretty blonde older sister.

It was the night of my graduation when it first started. When I became a monster. I was walking home, of course my parents had other plans on the night of their youngest daughter’s graduation. I wasn’t upset though, I was used to this kind of conflict occurring. I saw the current cheerleading captain waiting by an Italian restaurant’s door; probably for her boyfriend. Why couldn’t that be me? Why couldn’t I be waiting for my boyfriend, on my graduation night, with my friends? What did she have that I didn’t? Unknowingly, I slowly approached her, she slowly looked up, smiling innocently at me.

“Melody, right? That graduation was such a bore, wasn’t it? I mean honestly, 3 hours? Why can’t we just get our diplomas and go?”

“Hahah, yeah…” I trailed off, no wonder she was so popular, I’d never met someone who knew my name. Half the time, my own parents couldn’t remember it. Sadly, I looked up at her, my hands slowly moving towards her neck; her smooth, white, slender neck. She looked up in fear and desperation, but my hands enclosed around her neck before she had the chance to scream. I didn’t mean to kill her, it just sort of happened. The rush I got, it was as if I was satisfying some inner demon lurking inside me. Before I knew it, she had taken her last breath in this world. It was then I lost my humanity, it was then I became a monster.

From that day on, I was no longer “Melody”, no, such a sweet melodic name like that did not deserve to go to someone as wretched as me. It was only twenty-two blonde cheerleading captains, and 3 years later I was caught. When asked, ‘Why did you do it?’ I’d always answer with the same reply.

“I’m a monster.”

Sure I tried pleading insanity in front of the court, but truth be told I wasn’t insane. I wasn’t crazy. People called me a psychpath, but I wasn’t. ‘I’m completely sane.’ I thought to myself. I was sentenced to death row, and that brings us to the present. In about one hour, I will no longer be upon the living. I sit and wait, thinking over all of those poor innocent souls I sent away.

“I wonder if I’ll go to Hell?” I think aloud to myself.

“You may have done some horrific things, but that does not make you a horrific person.” My sister Hillary approached the bars holding me in, probably to say our last goodbyes and such.

“Of course you can say such things, look at you! You’re perfect! You’re smart, pretty, likeable, everything I’m not!”

“So change.” She whispered, solemnly but resolute.

“It’s too late to change, don’t you see? It’s always been too late.”

“You know,” she started, “all my life I’ve watched you. Looking upon you as you grow older, you’re strong, you’re beautiful, you’re extraordinary. It’s not too late to change you know, even if you are on death row, it’s not too late to apologize. You may have lost your innocence, but not your sense of self. Somewhere in there, you’re there. Somewhere in there, is a naive, but good person, waiting to come out again. ”

“That’s where you’re wrong, sister,” I whispered, “I can’t change, I never could. I’m a monster,” and with that, I wrapped my arms around her neck, and awaited  the eternal sleep, soon to come.

 

“Fear is about things that you can’t control. The future or the dark, or someone trying to kill you. You don’t get scared of yourself because you always know what you’re going to do.” 
― Dan Wells

 

To “Them”

Society holds too many expectations,

How am I supposed to dream big,

With all of these limitations?

 

I do what I’m supposed to,

Sit, learn, and listen.

Yet what will I accomplish,

By quietly paying attention?

 

 

What happens if I don’t succeed?

What if I don’t go to college?

Who will I be?

 Just another somebody, nobody needs.

 

The grades pile up,

The stress rises high.

How can I do this,

With time flying by?

 

“Mom, what if I don’t make it?”
“Dad, will you still care?”
Please don’t give up on me.
“It’s ok Honey, your brother’s still there.”

 

Time may be a demon,

Even so; it is not a real threat,

The ones I’m afraid of,

I also call “Parents.”

 

“You’re not rising up to your full potential.”

You’re not good enough.
“Darling, you know we love you,”

You’re just a screw up.

Together

You see me walking, alone in the rain.

The night engulfing me as tears of depression and anger are displayed.

You walk over to me, put your hand in mine, a silent promise, a silent wish, a silent prayer;

To hold her, to love her, to be there for her.

It’s around that time I realize,

Alone, I can accomplish nothing, but together “We” can do anything.

We can walk the ocean,

We can sail the sky,

We can do the impossible,

Don’t worry about running, together we can fly.

My heart and soul go out to you,

You are my angel, my light.

The one I can accomplish anything with,

The one to be there for me, to hold me safe in your arms at night.

And years later, I will whisper those words,

Even when you’re gone,

Even when the light that fills you has faded,

I know you will still be there to help me get along,

Because alone I can do nothing…

But together…

We can do anything.

Boundaries

Melanie looked around the room, becoming aware of her surroundings. It was dark. The only light to see was beneath the crack of a door leading to who knows where? Where exactly was she anyways? Trying to stand, she let out an unintentional scream. Something was chaining her hands and feet to a wall. ‘What the Hell?’ was the was the first thought running through her mind. Instinctively, she started screaming, foolishly hoping someone would rush through the door to her rescue.

“Hello? Who else is here?”

A voice resounded off the damp moldy walls on the other side of the room, followed by what seemed to be a gruff older man’s voice and the soft breathing of a younger child.

“Someone, let us out! Please! We didn’t do anything!” Melanie screamed, and continued to scream until her voice ran hoarse.

Instantaneously, a light bright fluorescent light turned on, stinging her eyes it’s yellowish glare. Melanie knew whatever was going to happen next, it wouldn’t be too good. Looking over everyone else in the room, she noticed a middle aged, balding man on the wall in front of her. She guessed he was in his 50’s, probably with a moody teenage daughter, and an unhappily married wife. To the left, there lay what looked to be a 3 year old boy, still asleep from whatever drug their ‘host’ had given them. Tears started to well up i her eyes as she thought of the franti parents that must be missing him. There truly is no worse feeling than that of losing a child. Turning away, she looked up at the last wall to see the person laying there wasn’t chained up at all, but a gaunt pale faced man with the same blonde hair and blue eyes Melanie had. A cruel masochistic smile began to spread across the lower half of his face, and a long stocky body held it up.

“Now hello children I’m sure you’re all very curious as to why you’re here today. Not to worry though, I just want to play.”

‘Don’t say anything rash Melanie. For once, don’t try to be the hero.’ She must’ve repeated those lines among others in her head a thousand times before. “So…” Se spoke up, “What do you want to play?”

“I’m so glad you asked! Well you see, it’s my birthday! So we simply must plan a party!”

“Oh really? How old are you?” She awkwardly laughed, trying to play along with what the strange man psychopathic man was saying.

“The same age as you my Dear, 19! What a splendid number 19 is indeed!” The psychopath continued to say.

“Cut the crap, you lunatic! Just let me out of here!” The middle aged man finally spoke up.

“I have a name you know; and it is not lunatic, it is Henry.” In the next second, the middle aged man was dead.

Melanie could feel her eyes open wider at the psychopath as she tried not to scream. The 3 year old still slept, and it was probably for the best. They were already down one person, and she really couldn’t bear to see a toddler, of all people, brutally murdered.

“now,” the strange man finally spoke up, “as for that game…” The look that shrouded his eyes made Melanie’s blood freeze in her veins. “Don’t you just love hide and seek?”

“Hide…and seek?”

“Yes Darling, you have 1 hour to come and find me, or else.” He winked.

“Or else what?”

“Let’s just leave that part to your pretty little imagination.” That was the last memory Melanie could recall before everything went dark again.

When she awoke, she was in a new room. It had those mats they lay out in day care to protect the children from falling, all in an array of different colors on the floor. The walls were painted in a very nostalgic jungle style, with all different types of animals you’d see at a zoo smiling happily, unaware of the dangers happening in the real world.  ‘This room…it looks incredibly familiar,’ Melanie thought; but right as she started to think about why it looked so familiar, a sharp pain rang out in her head, as if someone was sounding off a fire alarm. ‘No, no, no, my Dear,” the psychopath’s voice whispered softly in her mind, ‘we mustn’t return to these sad memories.’

“What sad memories? Why are you in my head? Who are you? Why do you know me so well?” Melanie’s voice trembled, afraid of the answers soon to come.

‘Darling, relax, all the answers will come in due time. Right now all you need to know is I’m on your side, I’ve always been on your side…’ And with that, the voice disappeared, and Melanie was forced to move on.

She walked through a door into another room. Each room was different, but all of them had the same creepy childlike appearance. ‘Who was this guy?’ Was she in some kind of Saw movie? As she moved through the rooms, each got a little darker. The delightful colors and different child characters started disappearing only to be replaced with horrifying demons and fire painted on the wall.

Pondering over these thoughts, she came upon a dead end; the last room in the creepy two storied building. It was white. Everything; the carpet, the walls, every last detail in the room was white. All except for one word painted in very small letters on the wall. Melanie. Why? Why was her name there? What had she done to deserve all of this? What was this guy trying to get at by doing this to her?

“Well, well, well, it looks like you’ve lost Melanie. Your time is up.” A voice approached her from the door.

“What are you going to do?” She tried to swallow the lump that was forming in her throat.

He pulled the body of a limp three year old from behind him, “What do you think?”

“No! Don’t kill him! Take me! My life is obviously more valuable to you, right? What are you trying to prove!” She screamed, falling to her knees.

“Oh Melanie, my sweet Melanie. What could I achieve from killing you? What could I achieve from killing someone who lost their sanity so long ago. In our heart you know who the real killer is. I’m nothing but a hallucination; a mere figment of your poor pathetic imagination.”

“But…but…but the chains! You kidnapped me! You killed that man, and you sent me on a walk through the rooms representing your life!”

“Did I? Was this really about me? Look again Melanie. The rooms, they were all painted according to YOUR life. The childhood you lost, the abuse you suffered every single day for the first 18 years of your life. The chains weren’t to protect you from me, they were to protect you from everyone else. You’re a monster Melanie, no more human than me.”

Suddenly, all of the lost memories she had been blocking out for oh so long came flooding back; the house she was in-her childhood house, her parents beating her, her boyfriend, the love of her life dying a brutal bloody death right before her eyes, and the murders, the murders of them all… She did it. They died because of her. Melanie had created this hallucination and blocked out those painful memories. She truly was insane, no more than a monster, a killer, a murderer.

“No! No! No! No! It can’t be true, it’s not true! Shut up!” She closed her eyes, preventing more tears from pushing through and walked forward. “You’re the monster, not me!” She pushed forward, not realizing what exactly she was doing, but knowing if she just got rid of this man, everything would be ok, and so…she strangled him. She watched with malice and satisfaction, as the man who had tortured her mind slowly took his last dying breaths.

“Melanie you’re the real killer. You’re the monster, who lost her sanity so long ago.” He smiled as he said that last sentence, knowing something she did not, and then just disappeared.

When she looked down, the body she was holding was not one of a man, but a little boy. She thought she had killed a demon, but the only thing dead was a 3 year old boy, along with the rest of her humanity.

Reaching

My hands tremble,

My body shakes,

How can I tell, who’s real,

Who’s fake?

My whole life has been one monstrous lie,

I’m tired.

I’m tired of relationships,

I’m tired of friends,

I’m tired of waiting for the end,

While seeking the future.

It’s exhausting the way I twist and turn,

With every moment I feel my heart burn,

But not with passion.

No longer will I suffer,

Even if it means laying dreamless forever,

So I cry.

I search and struggle, reaching for the top,

We all want Nirvana but most give up,

Perhaps someday I will find peace,

But until then, I’m left to weep,

Where, oh where, rest my fantasies.

Reflection

Who am I to judge them,

When I was just as bad,

Who am I to judge them,

When misery takes its stand,

And honestly it scares me,

This chaotic dream I’m seeing,

No longer do I notice,

The boundries in which I’m dreaming,

And as I look into the mirror,

It is not a face I see,

But a gruesome, souless, demon,

Staring back at me,

It’s smile beyond repair,

It’s eyes blinded with tears,

With a heart long forgotton,

Replaced by shattered mirrors,

And as I grow older,

I’m scared; but yet,

There will never be a day,

I forget my reflection.