1. Scare
"You know that whole scheme you have to keep people away," she said angrily crossing her arms. He just rolled his eyes at the ghost that was talking to him, keeping stuffing things in his locker.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied in a low enough voice that only she could hear him.
"The obsession with death, the attitude, never backing down from a fight, keep 'em scared and it'll keep your enemies from hurting you. Sound familiar?"
He glanced over at her without turning his head. Pin straight brown hair drifting in a nonexistent wind. "You know that scheme works just as well at frightening the people who love you away too."
"Yeah right," he retorted placing a book on a high shelf.
"Scared me into oncoming traffic."
2. Response
"I don't have the answer but if this is it, then I can't be with you." This one sentence made a hole in his stomach that made him wish for a stab wound instead as he tossed the apple up in air and caught it again from where he lay on his back on the park picnic table. His famous car was parked a few meters away blasting music effectively scaring off any unwanted intruders. Screamo had that effect on soccer moms. He glared at the bits of sky poking through the tree line above his head effectively mocking him with their joyful sunny-ness. He tossed the apple higher than before. A hand whipped out catching it. "Well I thought I'd find you here and I can see you're effectively moping."
"I am not moping." Adam crossed his arms and glared at him.
Eli sighs, "I fucked up dude."
"Yeah, pretty big too," Adam said chunking the piece of fruit back at him. "So what are you going to do about it?"
"I have no idea."
3. Literature
"You do realize that being star-crossed lovers always means you're screwed in the end. I mean somebody always ends up dead. Unless you're on Disney channel." She pauses to look up at him darkly clad with extra eyeliner before returning her gaze back to her bare feet which dangled up in the air. Her head hanging over the edge of the roof. "And let's face it you are not from Disney channel." At this he rolled his eyes. "So don't become Romeo and Juliet, or Pyramus and Thisbe, or Hero and Leander or Genevieve and Lancelot or Annie and Finnick. Okay."
"Annie and Finnick?"
"The Hunger Games." Julia says aspirated.
"How do you still read it if you're dead."
"NOT. THE. POINT."
"Okay fine then," he replies leaning back against, "who do you propose we be then."
"How the hell should I know?" She counters flailing violently. For second he was afraid she'd fall, then realizing that if she did it probably wouldn't matter. "Somebody who ends up happy."
"Like who."
"How should I know…Beauty and the Beast, Sleeping beauty and what's his face, Shrek and Fiona?"
"Those are Disney Moves."
"Shrek is from Paramount," She says sitting up.
He shakes his head at her again before looking back at the book in his lap. "Why do you care anyway?"
"Anastasia and Dimitri," she says lying back down, "you're both hard-headed enough."
4. War
Photographs filled her grandmother's house mocking her. One of her grandfather and her particularly mocked her from its place on the dresser next to the bed as she lay awake. It was of her grandmother in a white dress next to her grandfather in a war uniform standing on a airport tarmac. He'd enlisted in World War Two. The grim look in his eyes and smirk plastered across his face reminded her strongly of someone she didn't want to picture in an army uniform. "Does this mean war?" But that was a different kind of war. Though he still could've died. A sickening feeling fills her stomach as Clare remember her own words.
"What are you still doing up," her grandmother asked from the doorway. She was a tiny frail old woman who looked like Clare in the face, but had Darcy's coloring before her hair had faded from its autumn colors for snowy white. "Can't sleep."She answers shrugging. The old woman nods slightly. "It's an interesting picture isn't it," her grandmother says sitting down on the bed. "It was taken in December 1940 when he enlisted, more than a month before his 18th birthday. He lied to the enlistment officer." She sighs. "Your grandfather was fearless, too fearless sometimes," she says shaking her head, "I asked him to say."
Clare sits ups scooting over next to her grandmother. "Why didn't he listen?"
"He thought he could scare the piss out of the Nazis. Wasn't until he watched the first person get blown to smithereens that he says fully realized what he'd gotten himself into."
"His letters scared me to death."
"If he left without your permission and caused you so much pain, why'd you stay with him?"Clare questions. Her grandmother half smiled. "Because there are some things a man has to figure out for himself, like there are some enemies you can't scare, like a blood thirsty half starved man bearing down on you with fistfuls of grenades." She sighed again, looking down away from the photo, "And I knew that to think I could ever keep him from protecting the things he loved even if it meant giving everything he had was insane." I'll handle it.
"I know what you mean grandma," Clare says resting her head on the old woman's shoulder. "Just be thankful Clare your boyfriend is going up against school bullies and Nazi infantry men." At that Clare smiles. "I guess my parents told you about what happened."
"Well I'm sure they left parts out as skittish as they were, but we'll save my heart and leave those out. And a word of advice," she says clamping Clare on the shoulder, "When world war three breaks out, chain him to a chair."
Clare chuckles settling back down as her grandmother moves to leave. "I will grandma."
As the elderly woman shuts the door behind her the sickening feeling marches back into her stomach. "There are some enemies you can't scare." She had said when instead of if war breaks out.
"Keep them scared," the dreaded image of Eli saying that, with a helmet falling over his eyes instead of bangs and grease instead of makeup coating his eyelids clouds her imagination.
Clare had sat through enough history classes to know that small instances lead to giant battles. An earthquake is preceded by seemingly harmless tremors, small wars predict large ones. I wonder if the chaining idea would actually work she thought rolling over. But in her heart she knew even metal chains would keep him from battling whatever threatened the things he cared about, his friends and family. Never had before, never would. She was crazy for thinking she could stop that. But she was determined to get him to stop always poking a stick in the sleeping devil's eye.
5. Nemesis
The look of the shadows and the eyeliner in the bathroom mirror was frightening. The harsh light of the naked light bulbs increasing the shadows of his cheek bones, eyes, and jaw line. He looked evil. The dark attire of faded black denim and hard core band t-shirts not helping any. He put the charcoal stick down and frowned.
Great now he looked angry and evil. Angry.
He huffed staring, somberly into his own reflection. Rage wasn't always impassioned, and explosive force, like it was for some. Rage could be a calculating and quiet force like a candle burning in the empty night, and just as destructive if left unattended and accidentally knocked over. Fritz wasn't his only enemy. There was also a demon within himself that could on some days had proven to be a force to be reckoned with.
6. Issue
The problems you can't solve are the worst. The ones with no precedent are the ones that gnaw at you like teeth on a bone. Poking little fingers in the wounds in a way that keeps you up at night until exhaustion is the only thing the yanks you into the caring confines of sleep.
Eli scribbles on the slightly crumbled piece of notebook paper struggling to find the answer through the eyes of the characters.
Yet somehow the words never seem to fit the instance just right. They always seemed faked or too perfect, or lead to a worst case scenario end. Huffing he crumples up this last ending. He couldn't have a fairy tale and he didn't want apocalyptica. Sighing he stuffs his face against the pillow for a minute just listening to Adam change the channels on the TV. "Why does this have to be so hard," his grumble muffled by the fabric.
"I'll tell you what, when life starts to become easy you'll be the first to know," Adam says from his seat on the floor continuing to search of something worth watching.
"You're no help," he complains hurling the piece of crumpled paper at Adam's head.
"Besides," Adam tells him dodging it, "I doubt Clara Edwards is going to find the answer to your problems."
7. Julia
Clare had been rather curious about the girl for awhile. There wasn't anything particular she was hoping to discover about her as she opened up the girl's Facerange page which was still up despite the fact the girl had been dead for more than a year. She was a dancer. Her profile picture was in black and white of her in point shoes striking an elegant pose with beautiful arched arms rising above her head and one leg pointed sideways. Her wall was plastered with comments from old friends about how much they missed her. The most recent one more than six months ago, it was obvious that slowly she was being forgotten and descending into oblivion. Never truly forgotten but never truly remembered. Clare frowned slightly scrolling down the page and clicking on her photo album.
She muddles through more pictures of Julia perform ballet style poses in crazy colorful costumes before reaching the first picture of her and Eli. Her in a lilac purple blazer with several rainbow beaded necklaces that were sent flying as she, rather abruptly looking, wrapped her arms around the boy's shoulders. Eli merely looked slightly annoyed at suddenly being hugged the caption reading: I love you, get over it.
Clare clicks the arrow button. A picture of Julia poking him repetitively with the caption: annoying Eli is entertaining XD. More and more photos of a bright colorful girl so filled with buckets of energy and fully experiencing life pass by. Until the last one of two of them sitting on a park bench illuminates the screen, her colorful overtly joyful crazy essence contrasting humorously with his dark sarcastic brooding nature. But the smirk on his face was still the same. Part of her wanted to feel jealous, the other knew that life was ripped abruptly from beneath her feet that she was gone and could never be with Eli again. And that if she was looking down from up above the sight of him and her together was probably heartbreaking. Clare clicked back to Julia's main page. Clare's eyes scrolled up to her last status that read "Hanging out with my one and only tonight. :p Its okay you can be jealous."
Having to watch her break Eli's heart was probably even more painful. "How is that fair, why should I get to be happy?" Clare saw it now, the full trama of what he'd lost. That bright star of color and life suddenly went out, partly of his own doing. Leaving only a supernova and darkness where she used to be. Clare now understood why he was determined, too determined even, for it never to happen again.
8. Brightside
"So it was a good kiss," Darcy says smirking, through the phone. "Darcy," her younger sister groans. "I take it that means yes," she replies chuckling. "Okay details, what's he look like?" It was times like this that her older sister made her want to smack herself, she thought rolling her eyes, as she walks across the dock overlooking the lake. Clare plops down near the edge and sits cross-legged. She sighs hotly, "He's got really dark brown hair, and green eyes."
"Sounds … cute," Darcy responds warmly, "tell me more. Mom said he was a sadist punk and wore more makeup than most women." Clare bursts out laughing, "Okay he does not wear that much eyeliner."
"Eyeliner, what kind of guy are you dating Clare."
"A nice one," She says flatly. In the background she can hear her sister snickering. Kenya really changed her for the better. She sounded happy, confident, and carefree, like the old Darcy from before. "So where'd you find him?" Her sister asks breaking Clare's train of thought. Clare opens her mouth to speak and slowly the tale drains from her mouth from glasses to English class and beyond. All the while her sister would laugh and comment in places, never asking about knives or fists. Or the fact her boyfriend almost died. Her sister wanted to hear the good things about him. And Clare began to realize as she gradually spoke that that was perfectly normal.
"Sounds like a pretty good guy."
"Thanks." Clare says with a smile.
"Mom's going to flip when you marry him." Clare's jaw dropped and her sister hung up before she could reply. But the conversation did accomplish giving her the spark of optimism she needed.
9. Harmony
"Don't you think it's a little loud," Julia comments on the music, slightly annoyed, leaning up against the bedroom door frame. He turns his head to her from where he lay on his bed.
"No," he stated equally annoyed at her pestering staring back up at the ceiling. She was holding a dove gently petting its back and kissing its forehead. Every time she reappeared to him she seemed to cling more closely to the afterlife. "How's Clare?"
"I don't know I haven't talked to her since Vegas Night and she won't answer my calls."
"You should call her right now." She says looking intently at him with glowing hazel eyes.
"Well I doubt she'll answer," Eli replies folding his arms behind his head.
"I think she will this time."
"Okay and how do you know this?" Julia shrugs, "Call her, it's the only way you'll fix this." She is probably right. Eli thought frowning.
"Why do you even care?" He grumbles aspirated and irritated, considering reaching for the phone.
"Cause I want you to be happy."
"And you approve of Clare," he asks unsurely.
"Course I do, picked her out myself," She says smiling kissing the dove again. "It's not that hard to rip a pair of glasses out of someone's hands and throw them under a car tire, you know."
"That was you...And you think I'm good enough for Clare."
She sighs, "Name one person who's perfect Eli."
"Jesus."
"But Jesus was the Son of God."
"And Clare's pretty close to the Virgin Mary!" He spat angrily. Julia shakes her head returning her gaze to the dove. "And what kind of man do you presume Joseph was hmm? The kind of man who understood enough about mistakes to take a pregnant woman into his home and make her his wife. The person chosen to be the father to the Son of God in this world was a carpenter not a king. He tried with everything he had to be good to them and that is what matters."
"But didn't an angel come to him and tell him everything was going to be okay." She rolls her eyes at him, "And what do you think I am chopped liver." Eli raises his eyebrows inrealization.
She smiles, winks then disappears, sending the dove flying over in his direction that lands on his stomach. The dove merely blinks back at his confusion. "What the hell am I supposed to do with a bird?"
10. Maybe.
Clare leaned back on the dock, placing the phone beside her. She breathes deeply through her nose sucking in misty mountain air. Other than the sound of the waves lapping against the shore of the lake and the wind rustling pine needles it was silent. She smiles a little bit to herself content with where she was for the moment.
The rumbling of plastic against wood breaks the quiet. Clare picks up her phone to see who's calling her this time. She breathes out, Eli is written in the little glowing letters on her phone's screen. Clare lifts her eyes up towards the sky. Only a single cloud floats peacefully in the lazy blue abyss. Julia could be up there with her own set of wings, looking down, clutching the edge of the cloud. "Do you want me to answer the phone?" Clare asks the empty air.
A second later a brisk little wind whispers past. She smiles, having all the convincing she needs. She flips open her phone and presses it to her ear. "Hey."
"Hey." She can hear Eli taking in an unsteady breath, "You ready to forgive me?"
.
.
ta da two days worth of work and 10 drabbles later I am finished. It was pretty entertaining, who knows if I get enough good feedback I might do more of these later on.
REVIEW :D please
.
.
.