Showing posts with label Scary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scary. Show all posts

Sunday, 17 May 2015

The Loft... In My Mind.

Picture kindly shared from Pinterest.

The loft in my mind is open 24/7... It’s a place for characters who want to transpire in my next story, or book. I’ve heard them say they chose me to ensure their story is heard; they need a connection, oh and a place to stay... It’s disappointing but I've had to disengage from a couple of characters; they were dark, too dark to live in the loft. With help from the rest of the residents, their removal was relatively quick because the lofts residents won’t put up with anything, or anyone who tries to take over... Dear lord, don’t ever let anyone try to take over.  The chances are the residents will take over, and we won’t see the character again.

(At first it was as if the statement below was heard through an old radio)
“My dream multiplies; it looks, sees, and wants what it wants all of the time”.

These words greeted me last night as I tried to relax. Initially I attempted to ignore them because I knew this had to be a new character trying to move into the loft but I'd been writing all day, I wanted to rest.  
“If you don’t listen then I’ll keep saying it, my dream multiplies, it looks, sees, and wants what it wants all of the time” (Silence)

(Someone) breathes a heavy Sigh... 
“My dream multiplies; it looks, sees, and wants what it wants all of the time”

That someone is breathing to the point where I can literally feel its frustration as it seeps into my bones.
“My dream multiplies; it looks, sees, and wants what it wants all of the time”

I should speak, maybe even acknowledge its presence but to be honest I can’t tell whether it’s male, or female. Maybe it’s neither, maybe it’s from the other side? I’ve had a few of them, and again, not a pleasant experience.
 “My dream multiplies; it looks, sees, and wants what it wants all of the time”

“Ok, ok... Bloody hell I’m coming”.
Reluctantly and with much annoyance I progress towards the staircase... here is where I always find them. Their either sat on the bottom step, draped over the banister, or persistently knocking on the lofts huge double doors, which by the way would never get an answer, because the residents have stopped opening the door to strangers. So they wait for me. 

The smell was atrocious ... I smelt him before I saw him, and I wasn’t prepared for what I was about to see. A small skinny man with knobbly knees, he wasn’t wearing any trousers, however he was wearing shiny shorts. His white string vest had seen better days. I couldn’t believe the oversized trainers with no socks, and his small bony face housed dark sunken eyes, it was as if two thumbs had pressed them into an oversized skull.  On his head wispy bits of what looked like hair waved like seaweed, but for the most part he was bald. On his forehead he had a long, rather strange looking scar which was shaped like a bolt of lightning. His hooked nose protruded like that of an eagle.  I noted and quickly recoiled from his grubby hands, nails were bitten and black, as if he’d been digging dirt all day. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs, and lying on the floor by his feet was a small, brown, dingy looking suitcase.
Clearing my throat I asked what I could do for him.

“Ahh you came” he boomed.
Now there was a voice that didn’t suit this man.

“Yes I usually come when summoned, especially if a room is needed for the night”
“I need it longer, much longer, and maybe longer still”.

He stood, moving from one foot to the other in a most irritated fashion.
“What can I do for you sir?”

"I need somewhere to stay, and with someone who can make my dreams, nightmares go away”
Uneasy, he looked around...

“What are you running away from?” I enquired, (no point in beating about the bush)
"Nothing... no one, just down on my luck and need company”

“You wouldn’t be bringing any bad luck to my door now would you?”
No answer...

“Would you?”
“Of course not, like I said, need a place to stay and some company”

“Do you work around here?”
“Yes I work close by, came straight from there and needs me a shower”

Lip licking and nervous tension, (I didn’t like this...)
“Tell you what sir; I’ll see if there are any vacancies... I’ll be right down”

I knew I hadn’t made the right noises, his dark eyes smouldered as dirty, bony fingers twitched.
At the top of the stairs I knocked, a resident opened it a crack.

“Any vacancies?” silence rebounded as the resident stepped forward, and looked down the stairs eyeballing the character.
“Who wants to know” the resident replied hoarsely.

“I do” came the skinny mans booming response.
“Come closer and we’ll discuss”

The skinny man dragged his suitcase up the stairs; his eyes never left the resident.
"I’m looking to stay for a few days, need company and some routine”

“Is that right?” said the resident as a few more voices vibrated from the door.
“Well this is how it goes, we don’t like noise, disrespect, or parties; no strangers are allowed, and no smoking, we have a rota for cleaning the kitchen and bathroom daily, any problems with that?”

“No problem at all, I’m not after looking for any trouble, just need accommodation”. The resident made way and made a gesture with his hand towards the door, and as it opened all that could be seen from within was dark shadows.
Just as he got to the perimeter of the door, skinny man looked around, winked at me as he whispered,

“I’ll be seeing you”. He was gone.
“You’re letting him in then?” I nodded to the resident.

“Yep, any funny business like the last one and you’ll hear from us soon enough or maybe you won’t”.
As the resident blinked green, lizard like eyes, I rubbed my chin as I considered our new character, a character that will certainly get creative juices flowing; he obviously has issues, possibly some interesting history. Doesn’t really matter, he managed to get his oversized, sockless feet through the door to the loft, and if you knew the Loft’s residents that is indeed a massive achievement. 

Stay tuned for updates.

 
©2015 Jane Ewen

 

 

 

Saturday, 28 March 2015

Knowing...

'Sad Child' Image from www.pxleyes.com

I know... I don’t know how, but I KNOW... have you ever felt the presence of knowledge, yet you couldn’t explain how, why, or when you became aware of the information... It isn’t knowledge of a prediction, and it isn’t looking into a crystal ball at the future and feeling certain about someone’s life... it’s a knowing which magically hits you. The knowing can happen when a person is talking, listening or simply stood in your company... or at an event and suddenly you feel overwhelmed with information, feelings, opinions, beliefs and views. You could be writing, watching TV, making plans...  The information can be so extraordinarily strong, that you know without doubt how another is feeling, what they need to do, and nine times out of ten you’re able to execute a plan without hurting the feelings of any sensitive soul... Back in the day my knowing was scary... but not anymore, I know what I have to do. I truly believe this came from a whole childhood of feeling inferior, and uncertain.

There is a beauty to uncertainty and I’d like to share with you what it means for me... When you’re stuck in that moment, that frozen, dying, period when you feel your losing it... stop... wait and feel the tick of time as it allows you to hold on to permission to do something about your moment of truth... You do not have to rush for anyone, time was made for all of us to relax in whilst we made good decisions, and if you made a bad one, that’s ok to because mistakes are made to learn from...

Lifting a clenched fist, rage overwhelms the whole of his being. He stumbles...

A weird motion of uneasy slowness all around catches in his throat, he realises this isn’t normal, this is not what normally happens, and this is definitely not how it had gone before... what the hell was different?

The stupidest gaze lands on the baby, she turns and looks deep into his soul... He flinches, anger stabs at him hard, and he raises his fist higher. Anger at boiling point, he needs to vent, to let go... Baby blue eyes flood with liquid, and her warmth strikes him. Reluctantly he lowers his hand, and picks her up; insistently he lifts her high into the air. Her job is done...

As a child growing up in an uncertain world she knew things...  she knew stuff she didn’t understand, she knew death was not the end, and for reasons unknown she also knew it was simply a transition. She knew she was wise beyond her years, she knew a great deal of information, information that was inexplicable in terms of how she could have known such things at her young age. Knowledge gave her power, a power she had always been aware of, but thankfully way back then she’d always felt the all consuming power would remain with her always. The important thing through all of this is that the knowing is, and would always be the truth. How she knew this she couldn’t say... she just knew. The strange thing is it wasn’t just a clear knowing; there were other things, things she would only be able to share as her journey unfolded... There’s no rush, no need to worry, only a delightful sense of peace, and calm.

 
© Jane Ewen