We are madly in love with this song in my house right now.
Tag: life
Maturity
As I’ve been reading the Fade to White chapters that I’ve been posting, I can’t help but find it jarringly jumpy — like most of what was in my head when I wrote it never actually made it into words. I want to go back and smack my 19-year-old self then tell her to stop reading so much manga.
Maybe at some point in the future I’ll rewrite it, because the story itself is cute. Or maybe I’ll be too engrossed in other projects to care.
Thank god I’m not 19 anymore.
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Metaphor
Everything I experience is converted into a metaphor for my writing.
My worst fears are that someone will take the metaphors too literally.
Or worse, see through them to the truth.
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Fade to White Chapter 6
Fade to White
Chapter Six
A cigaret burned low in Jerek’s mouth as he watched Tryne, the tiny glowing light disappearing, so he took the dead cigaret and flipped it into the brook nearby, then looked up at the darkening sky and wondered how long it had been. It felt like hours, and Tryne was still asleep, but Jerek found himself unwilling to wake her. Thankfully the burden was taken off his shoulders when Tryne stirred and partially pushed herself up, looking blankly at the deep shadows around her.
“What time is it?” she asked, sitting up completely and rubbing her eyes.
“Close to sunset is my guess,” Jerek replied.
“Oh.” Tryne shivered slightly, though Jerek didn’t know why; it felt warm to him.
“Are you cold?”
“A little bit. We should head home now, and we probably ought to think about dinner.” Yawning, Tryne stretched her arms above her head.
Jerek got to his feet, then helped Tryne up. Her hand was cold, so when she started to move away he tightened his grip and began walking with her. Tryne smiled, slipping her fingers in between Jerek’s so that they were interlocking.
“I don’t even know anything about you,” she whispered. “Where do you come from?”
Jerek set his jaw, hoping he didn’t seem too hesitant in answering. “Several miles west. You could say I’m a hermit of sorts.”
“You dress pretty nice for a hermit.” Tryne closed her eyes. “I would’ve pegged you as someone of prestige.”
Jerek scowled. “So what if I dress nice? I like to look good.”
“You do look good, so don’t worry about that. What do you do for a living?”
Jerek solemnly swore in his heart that if Tryne was going to ask anymore questions, he’d shove her to the ground and walk away. “I’m a mercenary.”
Tryne’s eyes snapped open and she looked at Jerek narrowly. “You don’t work for Nosaj, do you?”
“No, never have.”
“I hate him! I hate his stupid dictatorship!” Listening, Jerek kept his mouth closed as Tryne talked. “I want . . .” she seemed to struggle to find the words she wanted to say, but she could only come up with, “to get rid of him.”
“Why?”
Jerek’s question shocked Tryne. “Why? Because he destroys villages and rapes women. That isn’t exactly what a good leader does.”
“But you can’t just get rid of him, that would create a power vacuum.”
“I know.” Tryne sighed. “Say, how do you get hired as a mercenary if you’re a hermit? How are people supposed to find you?”
“I go into the nearby villages. It’s not like I spend all my time alone in the forest.”
As they reached the cottage, Tryne gripped Jerek’s hand harder as she pushed the door open. “I can’t pay you much, but I can feed you anytime you want. Will you work for me?”
“Eh . . . sure,” Jerek grumbled, “But just as a personal body guard, I don’t want to get involved in your politics.”
“Of course, I wouldn’t dream of forcing someone to fight for something they don’t believe in, no matter how right or just the cause is.”
“What do you want to hire me for anyways?” Letting go of Tryne’s hand, Jerek pulled a chair out from the table and sat in it backwards with his arms crossed over the back.
“My mom got killed, didn’t she?” Tryne answered coldly, before flushing with embarrassment. “I’d like you to help me out for awhile, taking care of the farm and going with me to the village.”
“You would’ve forced me to do that anyways.”
“I don’t have to feed you.” Tryne hummed as she pulled out a large knife with some carrots and broccoli. “Would you get the fire going?”
Jerek looked at the cast iron stove. The door to the fire chamber was open, revealing gray ashes with some partially burned wood. “It looks dead.”
“Underneath that. Stir the ashes a bit and put that dry grass on it, then blow.” Tryne shook her head. “Honestly, do you have servants that do everything for you?”
Jerek kept his mouth shut, fighting the urge to give her a sarcastic reply and following the instructions Tryne had given him. When he saw the little flame crackling up and consuming the grass, he couldn’t help but to feel accomplished. In his satisfaction, he grabbed a log and tossed it on the small fire, snuffing it out.
“Idiot,” Tryne said.
“What did you call me?!” Jerek sprang to his feet, clenching his fists.
“I think I’ve figured you out now. You probably have a tab a mile wide at all the taverns and inns in all of the Twelve Villages. I guess you really do spend a lot of time in town.” Tryne laughed, kneeling down on the ground in front of the fire. “You have to build the logs around it in a little fort, like this.” Reaching in, Tryne grabbed the wood and propped it up against a couple other pieces as Jerek crouched down to watch. “That way the air can get to it, and it doesn’t go out. Understand?” Tryne said as she patted Jerek’s cheek, leaving dirty soot marks.
Touching his face, Jerek smeared the black powder even more and he looked at the ash on his hand feeling rather shocked. On impulse, he reached over to Tryne to do the same thing to her, but she caught his wrist and pushed it away, using the motion to lever herself up.
“Water,” she said.
“Huh?”
“We need to fill that pot with water. We keep it stored in that barrel over in the corner.” Tryne pointed to the objects in discussion.
“Oh, right.” Getting up, Jerek retrieved the water like he had been asked.
“We’re just going to have vegetable soup, since I’m not much in the mood for slaughtering, and I doubt that you can.” Tryne dumped the chopped greens into the pot then put it on top of the stove, also grabbing a rag. Before Jerek realized she was even that close to him, she was wiping his cheek clean. “Soot doesn’t suit you,” she chuckled. Jerek stood still, unsure of how to act, but after a moment Tryne put the rag down and sat in the chair Jerek had occupied earlier, leaning with her chin in her hand.
Jerek gave her a strange look, cautiously sitting down in the only other chair at the table.
“You think I’m weird, don’t you?” Tryne buried her head in her arms against the table.
“Different,” Jerek mumbled, and even more quietly added, “Gutsy.”
“I know I just met you,” Tryne’s voice was muffled, “But could you stay tonight?”
Jerek jerked backwards and his chair started tipping. He scrambled to grab hold of the table edge, but failed and crashed onto the floor, dazed for a moment after hitting his head.
“Are you alright?” Tryne asked, standing up.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Jerek attempted to pull himself up but fell back down.
“Let me help you.” Hurrying over, Tryne bent and caught hold of Jerek’s arm.
“I’m fine!” Jerek yanked away. “Don’t touch me!”
Tryne popped down in surprise. “You didn’t seem to mind before.”
“That was before you asked me to stay.”
“What does that have to do with anything? I don’t see what’s wrong with it.” Furrowing her eyebrows, Tryne looked very confused.
“Oh dear God, woman! You’re sick! Perverted!” Shuffling back, Jerek seemed unable to get up to his feet without falling again.
“Wha-oh.” Tryne hit her forehead with the heel of her palm. “You’re the one who’s mind is in the trash, not me.”
“What?” Jerek stopped.
Bursting out laughing, Tryne explained, “You sleep in my mom’s bed while I sleep in my own. We’re not going to–eww.”
“But what was up with that whole ‘we just barely met’ line?” Jerek was suddenly feeling very stupid.
“You could kill me in my sleep for all I know, but I’m willing to take that risk.”
“You didn’t mean . . .”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Okay.” Standing up, Jerek held out his hand to help Tryne. “Sorry about that.”
“I’m glad we understand each other now.” Tryne laughed and turned to stir the pot on the stove. “So will you?”
“You aren’t going to touch me?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Yeah, sure. I guess I could.”
“Jerek, you never fail to amaze me,” Tryne said as she set two bowls and spoons on the table.
Picking up the fallen chair, a small grin snuck into Jerek’s expression. “I could say the same about you.”
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Inspiration
From Pinterest
Some bad things happened, so I’m in a dark mood.
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Fade to White chapter 5
Fade to White
Chapter Five
As they rode through the crowded market square, Tryne looked around intently at the people in the village, but her eyes never lit up in recognition of the person she was searching for. When he passed a stand selling hats, Jerek leaned over and snatched a wide-brimmed western style hat and put it on to obscure his face, then almost passed Tryne who had stopped her horse to gaze around, seeming very lost.
“Tryne!” a man called, waving and making his way toward them. His face was sullen, with dark brown hair falling into his gray eyes.
“Ken!” she answered as she dismounted from her horse. “Where’s my mother?”
“Come with me Tryne,” Ken said more privately, putting his hand on the back of Tryne’s shoulders and leading her away. It was after they had been walking for awhile when Ken noticed Jerek following, and asked, “Who’s that?”
“It’s okay, he’s with me. Are we going to the inn?” Tryne looked intently at Ken’s face, searching for an answer.
“Yeah, come on then.”
Ken waited until the horses had been tied up and that the three of them were sitting around a table shrouded in darkness inside the inn’s dining room before he began talking.
“I don’t know how to tell this to you Tryne. Yesterday morning the Opal Village was attacked by Nosaj’s soldiers because they had rebelled and refused to pay the taxes. People are getting scared now.”
Tryne clasped her hands together and looked down solemnly at the table. “We still need to keep fighting. If we just keep expressing how important this is, then I’m sure people will gain courage.”
“Some children escaped the attack, and we have them at . . .” The man stopped and looked suspiciously at Jerek who had jumped slightly.
“Hey, where’d you get that hat?” Tryne asked, tilting her head to one side as she looked at Jerek with confusion.
“I’ve always had it,” Jerek grunted. “Didn’t you notice?”
“No, I suppose I didn’t.” Tryne frowned as she tried to think back, then after a moment she said, “I’d love to go visit the orphans. The poor dears must be so scared and lonely right now.”
Jerek shifted around uncomfortably, unconsciously pushing his hat farther onto his head.
“Who is this guy?” Ken gave Jerek a very strange look, leaning closer to Tryne.
“I don’t know,” Tryne whispered loud enough for both Ken and Jerek to hear. “He was around, so I brought him along. Now Ken, answer my question. Where is my mom?”
Ken looked down at the table then back up to Tryne’s eyes and reached forward to take her hand. “Yesterday afternoon a few of Nosaj’s soldiers were hanging around in the village. A couple of them started harassing your mother, and – you know her – she bit back. That made them mad, so . . .”
“No more.” Tryne put her hands up to her ears, staring down.
“Your mother is dead.”
She sank so that her forehead was touching the table, but Tryne didn’t respond in any other way.
“Tryne, I’m sorry. Look at me, please.” Ken moved his hand to touch the top of her head. “Tryne . . .”
Outside there was a sudden loud noise, followed by shouting and cursing. Jerek sprang up and ran outside just in time to see two men running off with Tryne’s horse as his own stallion stood fierce and proud in the middle of the road.
“No, no!” Tryne screamed, standing in the doorway behind him, staring in the direction the thieves ran off, then she furiously kicked at the doorposts, pounding the wood with her fists.
“Tryne, calm down!” Jerek grabbed both of her wrists, but she pushed against him. “Tryne!” he yelled reprovingly, and she stopped, her shoulders sagging heavily as Jerek added, “You can ride my horse.”
“You should go home and get some rest,” Ken said, nodding his head as he moved in between Jerek and Tryne, putting his hands on her shoulders while completely ignoring Jerek.
“I want to call a meeting,” Tryne said darkly. “At my house.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes I’m sure! Tomorrow evening at my house.”
“Okay, I’ll spread the word.” Ken looked uncertainly at Jerek, then gave Tryne a hug before walking away.
“Is there anything else . . .?” Jerek left his question hanging, his eyes narrowed at Ken’s back.
“I want to go home.”
Nodding, Jerek retrieved his horse and mounted it, waiting as Tryne clambered up behind him. With Tryne’s arms wrapped tightly around his waist and her cheek resting against his back, Jerek urged the horse to a trot.
It started softly at first, but as they rode on Tryne’s sobs grew louder. She clung to Jerek’s back, trying hard to suppress the tears but they forced their way out and shook her entire body. A new desire rose up in Jerek, causing him to feel uncertain. He had never had any sympathy for women before, because their tears had been for a choice they had made on their own, but Tryne wasn’t like them. She didn’t bring this on herself. Jerek wanted to somehow help her stop crying.
“Both of my parents died when I was young,” Jerek said, unsure of how that was supposed to make her feel better, but her sobs did soften.
After some time, she asked, “What were they like?”
“I don’t remember . . .” Jerek set his jaw, thinking. “I just know that they were in a house fire.”
“I don’t remember my dad either and Mom refused to talk about him so I don’t know anything. It was just the two of us growing up, and now she’s . . .” Tryne started crying again, harder than before.
This was counterproductive. Jerek searched through his mind for something he could do, but nothing came forward. He wanted her to stop crying, but he didn’t know what to say. “So . . . you’re alone now. That kind of sucks, I suppose.”
Despite herself, Tryne started giggling, mixing it in with the tears. “You have no idea what you’re saying, do you?” Her arms shifted around Jerek into what felt like a hug. “I appreciate your effort though.”
They continued the rest of the trip in silence. Tears streamed down Tryne’s cheeks, but her body was still and her arms were around Jerek in a tight embrace. When they reached the little cottage, Jerek found himself almost regretful that the moment had to end, but Tryne let go and slid off the horse.
“I’ll fix us something to eat,” she said faintly, walking inside and leaving the door open.
Jerek had barely tied his horse up when Tryne came hurrying out, a cloth bundle in her arms and fresh moisture in her eyes. “We’re going to stay out here,” she said quickly, and Jerek nodded, automatically turning to walk toward the forest where they had met earlier that day, but Tryne caught up to him, and putting her hand in his veered him off the right. “There’s a brook over here. We can sit by it as we eat.”
“Alright,” Jerek grunted as he made his hand go limp, but his fingers still curled slightly around Tryne’s.
After a few minutes they reached the stream, which gurgled and sparkled brilliantly in the sunlight as large smooth stones created dips and waves in the shallow water. Near the rocks that made the initial bank, soft green grass grew around a shady tree. Tryne sat underneath the shade and put down her bundle, adjusting her skirt as she looked up at Jerek.
“Come on and sit down.”
Jerek slowly sank, cautiously sitting on the grass. Tryne pulled out a round loaf of bread and a knife, then cut off a chunk and handed it to Jerek with some cheese.
“I’m glad you came today,” Tryne said, staring at the brook as she chewed. “I ended up needing you after all.”
Jerek shoved some of the soft bread in his mouth with a slice of cheese on it, like Tryne had done. The taste surprised him. Even though it looked plain and meager, the meal was good and satisfying. There was sort of a half-smile playing on Tryne’s lips as she watched him eat.
“You have beautiful eyes.” Resting her chin in her hand, Tryne stared dreamily at Jerek’s face.
“What?” Jerek looked at Tryne, shifting backwards.
“And your hair too. I simply adore it.” Reaching over Tryne took off Jerek’s hat and put it on her own head.
“Um, okay. Your hair is . . . pretty.” Jerek couldn’t help but reach up and touch his own hair to make sure it wasn’t in the shape of the hat.
“Thank you Jerek.” Laying back with her arms behind her head, Tryne moved the hat to cover her forehead and eyes. “I’m so tired . . . would you mind if I took a nap?”
“Go ahead,” Jerek mumbled, furtively reaching for more bread.
“Thank you Jerek, for everything you’ve done today.”
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Good Stories
This advice changed the way I write.
The Hollywood depiction of writers is of them agonizing over a typewriter, coming up with the perfect way to phrase the last sentence before sending it off to be published immediately. They never have to rethink or rewrite anything.
I used to hold high standards for my first draft, so I did a lot of pre-writing and character sheets to ensure that everything would be solid by the time I started the story. The funny thing was, despite all the work I put into it before beginning, I never managed to finish any novels. I’d hit blocks and struggle with finding the motivation to write, then move on to the next idea that popped up. Then one day while I was talking to a start-up publisher, he commented, “There’s no such thing as good writing — only good editing.”
And the way I approached writing changed forever.
My first drafts are now a free flow of creativity. When I start that first sentence, I don’t know where the story is going to go — I write that down as it comes to me. I change my mind halfway through and jot down a note to edit the previous chapters for consistency. Then I change my mind again and scribble out that note. Sometimes, I don’t know what to do next and I write down random thoughts until the sentences start coming to me.
The second draft is spent cleaning up, rewriting, and fixing consistency. This is the part where I start to make it good.
Ever since I made that change to how I write, I have finished every novel I’ve started.
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Fade to White chapter 4
The first couple of chapters for Fade to White were a collaboration between me and my best friend in high school for our creative writing class. I quickly took over and completed writing the novella on my own, since I was the one who enjoyed spending hours and hours alone lost in my head.
We had a falling out after starting college, and I went back and completely rewrote the first two chapters so that the events would be entirely in my own words. Truthfully, it was more about preserving artistic integrity than petty revenge, because I thought that the differences in writing styles stuck out like a forum role play.
For the life of me, I can’t remember if my former friend ever saw the completed novella.
Fade to White
Chapter Four
Early morning sunlight spilled from the sky and danced around in patterns on Jerek’s white shirt as he sat on the ground with his back against a tree. Two horses stood tied to a branch nearby, one of them stomping his hooves impatiently. Turning her head curiously toward them, Tryne smiled and set her bucket of water down, wiping her hands on her apron before hurrying over to where Jerek lay. His eyes were closed.
“Hello,” Tryne whispered, kneeling down next to him, but Jerek didn’t stir. Gently, she touched his shoulder and he still didn’t respond. Quivering slightly, Tryne reached to brush the bright white hair away from Jerek’s face, watching the strands shimmer in the sun, then slid her hand down the side of his cheek, marveling at how soft and smooth his hair was. Glancing over at Jerek’s face, Tryne jumped back when she saw that his rainbow eyes were open and watching her. “I’m sorry,” Tryne stammered, “I thought you were . . .”
Jerek stood up and looked down at Tryne for a second before holding out his hand to help her to her feet. “I brought your horse back,” he said, turning to his own stallion to pull down the reigns, but he found himself feeling very reluctant to leave.
“You know, when I first saw you lying there I thought you had run into a tree again.” Jerek grunted and scowled, causing Tryne to smile. “Thank you,” she added, walking around the tree to reach her own horse’s reigns, her smile fading.
“Uh,” Jerek began, feeling very uncertain, “Do you have anything . . . that needs to be done?”
“No, not really.” Tryne sighed, patting her horse’s nose. “I’ll be going into town today.”
Sensing something in her voice, Jerek felt slightly alarmed. “Is there anything wrong?”
Tryne hesitated. “My mother never came home last night.”
“Hm.” Jerek shifted from leaning on one foot to the other, fiddling with his hands.
“I’m really surprised you asked to help,” Tryne said quickly, her voice sounding unnaturally lighter. “Yesterday you seemed so mad when I sent you out to chop wood. Perhaps you want to show off your manly muscles some more, and that’s why you came back?”
“You pry too much. Shut up.”
Looking at Jerek for a moment, Tryne spun around and marched away. “The only reason I’m bringing you along,” she said loudly, retrieving her bucket of water, “Is because it’s not safe for a beautiful young girl to travel on her own, and the only reason I’m inviting you to breakfast is to make sure you don’t go running away.” Tryne turned around and motioned to Jerek. “Come inside now.”
Watching her, Jerek felt unsure of how he should be reacting. Any sort of food sounded extremely appealing, considering how he had skipped a couple meals the day before, but . . . “Why should I eat with you?”
“Then you can watch me, but you’re going inside no matter what.” Putting the bucket of water down, Tryne looped her horse’s reigns around the rail post by her front door, then with her hands on her hips she started back toward Jerek. He remained where he was standing, allowing Tryne to completely close the distance between them. Then to his surprise and excitement, Tryne seized Jerek’s forearm with both of her hands and pulled him.
“Why are you so adamant on getting me into your house? Perhaps you want to show off your womanly manners?” Jerek couldn’t help but congratulate himself for his wit.
Laughing slightly, Tryne muttered, “That’s a good one,” then repeated it to herself faintly. “Pick that up, please.” She pointed to the bucket then opened the front door and waited patiently as Jerek tied his horse up, lifted the bucket, and went inside the cottage.
Tryne prepared the meal in silence while Jerek watched her, and after awhile she set down two bowls filled with hot porridge. “There’s some honey if you’d like,” Tryne said as she pushed one of the bowls to Jerek with a spoon, then she sat down and slowly began eating. Jerek stirred the mush around a bit, then cautiously lifted the spoon to his mouth. Hunger got the better of him at that first taste and he began to quickly shovel more into his mouth. “If you don’t mind,” Tryne said, smiling as she watched Jerek, “I’d like to leave after we finish eating.”
Jerek nodded, putting down his empty bowl. “When you’re ready.”
Several minutes later they were both back outside. Jerek easily mounted his horse, then watched in amusement as Tryne clambered ungracefully onto hers, and he felt tempted to ride around her in mocking circles. Moving in a slow trot, the two of them set off for the nearest village, Jerek riding easily and Tryne holding tightly to the reigns.
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Hatoful Boyfriend
I was going to post something else.
But I came across my screenshots of awesome Hatoful Boyfriend moments.
I highly recommend the game.
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Fade to White chapter 3
Fade to White
Chapter Three
A freshly lit cigaret burned slowly in Jerek’s hand as he raised it to his mouth, gazing out at the trees below his window. That girl. After he had finished chopping wood, she had asked him to stay for dinner with the explanation that it was in payment of all that he had helped her with. He had refused. She had been more insistent, however, that he should borrow her horse to get back home, and he would have never gotten away without agreeing to ride the thing. It was an old brown stallion, evident from the fact that the slump in its back was deep, yet despite that the girl seemed to love the horse and was very adamant in obtaining his promise that he would bring it back as soon as he could.
Yet there was something that irked Jerek. How could a farm exist so close to Nosaj’s castle, and he not even know about it? Breathing in deeply and sucking on his cigaret, Jerek then exhaled and watched as the smoke floated in front of his eyes. If he had known, the place would have been ransacked and burned a long time ago, but for some reason that thought bothered him even more.
“Jerek!”
Sharply bringing his hand down, Jerek hung it out the window to hide the cigaret as a loud bang of the door being slammed against the wall announced Nosaj entering the room. They stared at each other for a moment, both of their faces betraying no emotion, before Nosaj’s lips curled and he started to grin.
“Don’t bother Jerek,” Nosaj said laughing, “Everyone knows, and nobody cares.” Walking up to Jerek, he held out his hand. “Mind if I have one?”
“This is my last one,” Jerek replied, keeping his hand down and the cigaret hidden.
“Oh.” Nosaj seemed thoroughly disappointed. “I’ll have more sent to you. I came to ask you something. Your horse returned some hours ago alone. Why?”
Jerek pointed to the cut in the side of his head. “I was attacked by a bandit. If he’s not dead already, he will be soon.”
“Why of course, those fools will do anything for a scrap of bread or a few coins, but what about the horse you came in on?” Tapping his lips with a long crooked finger, Nosaj looked down at Jerek.
“Belonged to the man, I suppose,” Jerek replied calmly, turning his attention back to looking out the window.
Failing to get the hint, Nosaj continued, “I imagine you’ve had a busy day. That girl you brought in earlier, perhaps you would like to have her first?” Jerek remained silent, so Nosaj added, “Should I have her sent in then?”
“No.”
“Ah, perhaps you’d prefer Ramo then.” Nosaj chuckled.
Spinning around, Jerek flung the only thing he had in his hand at the quickly retreating figure of Nosaj, but the cigaret fell harmlessly on the floor short of its target. Stomping angrily, Jerek marched up to and slammed his bedroom door shut, locking it. Walking over to his bed, he got down on his hands and knees to retrieve a small box from underneath, pulling out a new cigaret and match.
“Jerek!”
Irritated, Jerek yelled “What?” in reply to the bubbly voice.
“Jerek! Unlock your door and let me in,” Ramo called, his voice muffled through the wood.
“Ever consider that doors are locked for a reason?” Jerek muttered to himself.
“Nosaj asked me to talk to you. Let me in.”
“Oh all right.” Tossing the cigaret out the window, Jerek unlocked the door. In a blur of black shiny leather, Ramo had his arms around Jerek’s neck and his cheek pressed against Jerek’s chest.
“I’m so glad that you’re alive! I was worried about you.” Ramo looked up at Jerek with a glistening light in his eye and touched the cut on the side of Jerek’s head. “This looks awful!”
Taking Ramo’s hand quite forcefully in his own, Jerek thrust it way from him, but Ramo’s arm snapped right back around Jerek and he clung even more tightly.
“Get off me,” Jerek growled.
“No,” Ramo replied.
Losing his temper, Jerek shoved Ramo away from him and hit Ramo across the face with the back of his hand.
Ramo touched his stinging cheek gently and with a hurt expression looked at Jerek. “I’m sorry . . .” he whispered, turning his face away while Jerek grunted and shifted uncomfortably, looking over Ramo’s head at the door. “As I said before,” Ramo’s voice shook, but as he talked it stabilized, “Nosaj asked me to speak with you. He’s worried – and so am I – about your sexuality.” Blinking in surprise, Jerek took a step back. “The problem is, you haven’t ever done it once, and that’s just not healthy. If you want, I could . . .”
“Woah, woah, woah!” Jerek sputtered, then yelled, “I most certainly will not! Get out!”
“But Jerek –”
“GET OUT!” Moving forward, Jerek physically shoved Ramo out of his bedroom, shutting and locking the door with the resolve to never open it for anyone ever again.
Sitting down on the window seat, Jerek once again turned his head to the outside, but this time he didn’t see the forest. They would be back later, and more insistent than before. He had to . . . suddenly Jerek’s eyes came into focus as an escape planted itself in his mind. Deciding to wait for now, Jerek retrieved another cigaret to pass the time. He would finish this one before leaving.
By Autumn Rain 