Monday, May 10, 2010

Welcome

I just updated my blog feel free to come check it out read my posts and tell what you think. there are snip-its from my current book The Chill of Evil, a few poems, and a look into my next book A Shadow beneath the Cypress. thank you and i hope you enjoy reading my work.

Happy mothers day

i just want to say that i am glad i'm your mother, you make me happy, you make me sad, you make me glad you make me mad, but most of all you make me feel loved, for all of you mothers out there feel free to repost this to your children. happy mothers day!

Somewhere in the darkest hours, a poem

Somewhere in the darkest hours ghosts come out to play, joined by goblins, witches, monsters, and demons on the way. evil lurks in their mist, waitng for their moment. when it comes they strike at us like a moving comet when they leave we lay afraid, shaking in our beds. they leave behind their different marks vivid in our heads, so when the clock strikes three am and the witching hours sounds, dont bother locking up your house cuz not matter what evil is abound.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

a piece from A Shadow beneath the Cypress

The day was so sultry; it was nearly enough to choke one to death. we walked parched and placid. I caught a glimpse of Cypress Pond as we made our way towards the school, and on to the influential home of Doctor Vernon Parish. The white two-story Victorian sat high on the hill, away from the dust of the roads, and the smell of the lumber company. The sun was so bright. It reflected an orange glow over the water. I could not help but linger a bit to stare. Mother tugged at my arm, telling me to come along. I lingered too long and lost sight of Mother and Lilly. I grew frightened. There was no one around, and I did not know the way to Doctor Parish's house. Then, he came along; it was as if he had been hiding behind the Cypress trees just waiting for me.
I was wearing the new satin dress Jaharra made for me. The one with the matching hair bows. I was afraid at first, because Mr. Miles was a strange little man, but what was I to do; I was lost. I told him this did not look like the way to the doctor’s house. He said it was a short cut, so we would not have to dredge up the giant hill.
The coatroom smelled of glue and paper. It was small and dirty, like the room in the West Wing. The room daddy said we were never to go in… I tried to scream, but he clamped his large dirty hand over my mouth. Tears stung my eyes. I closed them so tightly it made them ache. I could smell the scent of his aftershave, mingled with the pungent odor of whiskey on his hot and dreadful breath. His face so close to mine made me shiver in fear.
He never spoke a word. His breathing became faster and more labored as he tore at my clothing. When he finished, and his sweaty body lay still over me for a moment, I tried to open my now swollen and red eyes. I could see the silhouette of the sweater Isabella had left the last day before summer break. It hung on the hook like a fuzzy animal. I parted my lips to try once again to scream, but no use. My throat was dry, and what came out, was the small croak of a sleepy frog.
He lifted his eyes to meet with mine. A look of shock and horror sat upon his dirty, sweat-covered face. It was as if he just now, realized what he done, and what would now happen to him if anyone were to find out. A small tear fell on my cheek. A tear of remorse for what he done, and what he was about to do. He wrapped his massive hand around my throat, and began to squeeze. I began to thrash my feet and hands into the air. My eyes seemed as if they would pop out of my skull. I could not breathe. Everything went dark…
He carried me out of that filthy little closet, through the woods, and down to Cypress Pond. He stayed close to the trees, keeping his shadow beneath the heavy branches of the Cypress trees. He placed me face down into the water at the ponds edge. My new dress was covered in dirt, blood, and his rank sweat. My ribbons lay askew in my beautiful blonde hair, floating in the muddy warm water.
But even as I lay here, my belly swelling more each day it was not the worst thing that has happened, this is. Being locked in this godforsaken room with no one to talk to and no one to listen to my cries.