You See a Face Through Your Dark Window - 3/15

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JennYes79
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RE: You See a Face Through Your Dark Window - 3/15

Postby JennYes79 » Wed Apr 13, 2011 2:45 pm

I would love some constructive feedback please!



I hated our new house. I hated it before I even saw it.

For as long as I could remember, my mother was constantly moving us from town to town. She said it was for her work, but I never believed her. It always felt like we were running from something.

The longest we had lived anywhere was when I was ten years old. We stayed in that town for nine months. Up until then, we hadn’t stayed anywhere longer than five, so when five months came and passed, I let my guard down and allowed a girl named Nicole to become my best friend. We were inseparable, and mom had even agreed to a sleepover after some relentless pleading. When my mom unexpectedly moved us a month later, I was heartbroken. After that I vowed I would never get close to anyone again. Seven years had passed and I remained true to my vow.

Our latest house was a tiny cape code, which was typical for us, except that this one was set back in the country, completely isolated. The driveway itself was a mile long, and it was another two miles from the end of the driveway to the nearest town, which I wondered if you could even consider a town or not, for how small it was.

My bedroom was on the main floor, at the end of a short and narrow hallway, with two large windows overlooking our backyard and the dense woods that surrounded it.

Mom had left hours ago, saying she had to go get groceries and house supplies. I didn’t mind being alone, though - my mom and I had never been particularly close, and being alone was sometimes better than the awkwardness of trying to pretend that she and I were a normal mother and daughter.

I had given up on unpacking an hour ago. I was lying in bed with the lights out, but sleep eluded me. As I turned onto my side, I caught sight of my reflection in one of the windows. My fair skin looked even paler in contrast to the darkness that lie beyond the windows, which made my brown eyes almost looked black. I reached up and brushed a strand of my dark curly hair away from my face. I had once been told what a pretty girl I was, but I brushed it off as nonsense. A pretty girl would have a normal life with a normal family and lots of friends. I had none of that.

I looked past my reflection out into the blackness of the night. The skies were clear and the moon hung high in the sky, illuminating the outline of the dense forest. A chill ran up my spine when I thought of how isolated I was from the rest of the world at this very moment. Looking out at the treetops, I couldn’t help but wonder what might lie out there. There was no one else for miles. No one would ever hear me….

As my eyes roamed over to the second window I froze, my breath stuck in my throat. A small pale face with bright eyes stared back at me from outside the window. I wanted to scream and run, but I was frozen in fear. The face was shrouded in a black hood, and as I looked on in terror, the face’s pale hand raised up and tapped on the window. I began to tremble, but I still could not speak or move. As terrified as I was, there was something familiar about the eyes, and they mesmerized me.

“Kaitlyn, let me in,” the pale face said. “It’s ok. It’s me. Nicole,” the figure whispered as it pulled the hood down from around its head.

“Nicole?!?” I exclaimed. The breath that I had been holding rushed out of me, and I felt a warm tear trickle down my check. Now I knew why the eyes had mesmerized me. I had only ever known one person to have such bright, piercing blue eyes - my childhood friend, Nicole. As the hood fell from her head, her silver blond curls spilled out from beneath. As crazy as it was, and even though I had not seen her in seven years, I knew without a doubt that it was her.

I jumped off the bed and threw open the window and Nicole embraced me.

“Nicole, what are you doing here?” I was still shaking from my initial fear, and the cool November air added to the chill that ran down my arms.

“There’s no time to explain, Kaitlyn. You need to leave with me now, before it’s too late.” Nicole climbed in my window grabbed my backpack and began throwing in some necessities as she spoke.

“What? What the heck are you talking about?”

Nicole stopped and placed her hands on my shoulders, looking me square in the eyes.

“Listen, Kaitlyn. This is going to sound crazy, but you have to believe me. Your mom - Debra - she is not your real mother.”

My jaw dropped as Nicole paused to let what she just said sink in. I would have asked if she was joking, but the seriousness in her eyes was enough to confirm that she wasn’t.

“It was not by chance that we met seven years ago, Kaitlyn. My family had been following you since you were born. We were going to try to save you then, but we did not have enough time, and Debra whisked you away again before we could act.”

“What do you mean ‘save’ me?” I asked hesitantly.

“Kaitlyn, you are not of this world. You are very special, and right now, you are all that stands from an evil like you have never known from taking control of the land that you come from. There is not enough time to explain it all now. I promise I will, but we have to go now, before Debra gets back!” Nicole pleaded with me, her eyes searching mine for an understanding.

Crazy as this all sounded, something stirred deep within me, and my heart told me that Kaitlyn was telling the truth. For reasons that I did not understand, I knew that I had to leave.

“Let’s go.” I grabbed my backpack and followed Nicole out the window, heading towards the woods. I took one look back over my shoulder at the small house that sat in the middle of nowhere, knowing in a way that I could not discern that this would be the last time I would see any semblance of the life I had led up until this point.


I would love some constructive feedback please!


:) :) :) :)

rmathews
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RE: You See a Face Through Your Dark Window - 3/15

Postby rmathews » Thu Apr 21, 2011 4:53 pm

There has always been something about the night. I know that whatever is out there is there night and day but looking up at the stars makes it so much more real.
I have always loved looking out of this window. As I stand here I realize it is probably the only reason that I have stayed in this house. As crazy as it may sound it really is true. This house is worthless otherwise. The pipes are leaky, the roof needs replacing and the layout makes no sense. Whoever heard of a kitchen in the basement? But because of this window I stay. It is truly a throwback. An old bay window with a musty smelling cushion that used to be pink. Lying here on my back I feel like I am not indoors at all. Like I am lying in the open air looking up at the stars and breathing the cool night air.
And tonight is no different than any other night. I will lie here for hours wondering if what I feel in my heart is true. If that night that I dream of when I manage to sleep really did happen. It feels so real that I can hardly imagine that it isn’t. But it doesn’t make sense and I can’t tell anyone because then they would know I am crazy. But I know the truth. One night, while lying outside under the stars I was abducted by aliens.
It was a night a few years ago. I used to love lying outside on cool spring nights looking up at the sky. Thanks to a 5th grade science teach obsessed with astrology and a weeklong stint in space camp I know how to identify several constellations. When I got bored identifying the ones I knew I connected stars and made patterns of my own. It was my way of relaxing at the end of the day. This particular night I was dozing in the night air and thinking about how I was going to sell this house as soon as I got the chance when the star I was focusing on started moving closer and closer to my face. At first I thought I must be delirious with exhaustion and in the same instant I knew that my life was about to change forever.
The “star” drew close to me quickly until it was certain that it was no star. A large oval shaped disk hovered over my body not disturbing anything around it. No wind blew. It made no sound. And unlike the ships seen in the movies no light illuminated from its portal. But there was a portal and at the moment of this realization I was absorbed into it. That is the best way to describe the way it felt. I was not lifted or snatched. I was absorbed. And that is the last thing I remember if you can call my recollection of these event s a remembrance. You can more accurately say that it is a recurring dream. One that I have night after endless night, and although I am not afraid I awake every night with soaking wet sheets and a racing heart.
Since that day I lay here in this windowsill afraid to lie outside and afraid to sell this house. If they are going to come back for me they’re going to come here. For some strange reason I want to be here when they do.
The moment I have this thought I see someone dart across my line of vision in the bushes I planted in the open plot outside. At first I try to convince myself it’s an animal, but no. This creature was standing upright and was about the size of a 4 year old child. I open the window and feel the same stillness in the air that I felt on that night.
“Don’t be afraid. I want to go.” I whisper into the night.
The small bluish child-like figure with abnormally large feline eyes steps back and meets my brown eyes with a curious stare.
“I was hoping you would say that”. His voice is incongruously large and commanding. “It is always better when you don’t fight.”

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jinhessel
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RE: You See a Face Through Your Dark Window - 3/15

Postby jinhessel » Tue May 10, 2011 12:18 pm

The Face in the Window
I was nodding on the recliner when the face appeared in the window. Of course, I had skipped my blood pressure meds and my forehead felt warm, but…a face? The sun had set and the face – if that’s what it was – bobbed and shimmered and slowly came into focus. It was a woman, vaguely familiar.
“Little Miss Serious,” she said, calling me by the knick name my mother had given me. “You are your worries.” Then she covered her mouth in a laugh and shook her head with resigned affection.
I glanced around the room to be sure I wasn’t being tricked – but, by whom? We are only two, just me and Stanley, and he was in one of his deep sleeps down the hall. No, there was nothing here but the black cat snoozing on the black leather sofa, the old family clock which had quit telling time decades ago, and the cluster of small landscape paintings I had picked up cheap from the parish fair.
“Mom?” I said aloud. She had died five years before, and my last view of her was of a limping woman stooped and irony, with a fringe of closely cut gray hair. The face before me was full of pulse and flesh with a spring in the dark curls that bounced around her head. She wore a scoop-necked top which showed her sharp collar bones and her long neck.
“I was young once, you know. Don’t look so surprised.”
“Sooo…you’re reflected here in my window because I forgot my meds, and…what else?”
“Make the most of your days, Sharon, the ones that remain. The kids have left and Stanley won’t always be with you.”
Well, I knew that. At least I knew where the royal pain was now – in his bed or on his chair, within calling distance of his liquids and his pills. Wasn’t always so…. Don’t get me started on his wandering eye and rambling ways. Old joke says what you call a woman who knows where her husband is - a widow.
“That’s a sad joke, Sharon. You’ll miss him when he’s gone.”
My dad died quite young, and as badly as they fought in life, my mom was left empty when he was gone. I resented Stanley so – half our married life – his freedom, his sureness, his helping himself to whatever was there.
“Do you remember what it was that drew you to him first?” She shook her head. “Had to be something I didn’t see – rumpled hair and crumpled clothes, and floating from one dirty job to the next…. He was pretty cute though, if I had to say.”
Yeah, he was – floppy hair over his eyes – faded denim – those sweaty tussles in the Chevy – steamin’….Whoo!
The poetry, the wine, the off-beat friends who showed me new worlds - somewhere outta this burg. And now…lost savings later, back there again…..
I turned on her. “Mother, this visit is…where is this going? Why is this not insufferable?”
“Wonderful, Sharon. As usual, very little patience, and a failure to reach deeply down for what is worth keeping. I am here to say – why do I bother? – live in each moment and give soft answers to every word you hear. There aren’t that many left.
“I go now. I know when it’s time.” And with that, and a clenched grin, the light shifted and only her strong bright teeth remained like Alice’s cat, and then they too were gone, like everything else.
Except for everything Stanley….His feet would be cold, and he’d want me to stay with him awhile.

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RE: You See a Face Through Your Dark Window - 3/15

Postby spring007 » Sat May 28, 2011 7:35 pm

My sanity died on the night before Christmas. One of the catalysts may have very well been my inability to keep to the annual schedule of going to bed a ten o' clock. Sleep and all its cronies were eluding me, and so I sat, void of inspiration, at the grouchy old PC next to the bedroom window. I suppose I was already losing it since the white curtains were not drawn and the blinds partially open, revealing about two feet of pure black.

The haunting trebles of Enya's "O Come O Come Emmanuel" flowed from the computer speakers as my mind rolled over possible gifts and other fancies I could receive come the next morning. On the other hand, "next morning" was coming sooner than usual. Eleven-thirty at night was pushing it for me. So I was a seventeen-year-old with a penchant for tradition. Sue me.

In all honesty, I was not quite sure why both curtains and blinds were open for the world to see. Perhaps the magical qualities of that particular evening made me feel less afraid of the dark than usual., or perhaps I was expecting something. With my unusually active imagination, I found myself always thinking about ironically convenient situations in my everyday life in which something crazily unthinkable would happen to little me, like Peter Pan appearing outside my window to spirit me away.

Yet, like the few galvanizing things that ever happened to me, the proverbial hammer hit the nail the second I took my mind off of it, glanced idly toward the window, and screamed.

The rest of my family was already in bed, but it was still a stroke of luck that my unflattering shriek had not woken them. Still, that failed to benefit me as I slipped off the swivel chair in a panic, my eyes glued to the glass separating my room from the pair of luminescent gold eyes hovering disembodied in the dark.

I could neither breathe nor move, frozen in shock as I struggled to solidify whether what I was seeing was merely a fantastic trick of the mind or not. The eyes continued to stare, and I was one step toward convincing myself they were a bright reflection of the bedside lamp light when they began to move. Climbing higher in their dark realm, their darker irises focused on the window locks, and I thought I saw the outlines of a body underneath them. Then again, I also thought I had seen a gryphon fly past the kitchen after a thunderstorm a few months past. That was whooping crane mating season.

Enya hit a high note in the background in time with a window screeching open. I was frozen, defunct as half of my mind sped into a frenzy of possible kidnapping and/or death.

"I do not believe I have ever asked a human her name," came a humored voice from the creature crouched like a panther in my bedroom.

I almost fainted due to the mere cliche quality of the situation. An elf, a flyspeck elf complete with the quirky smile, curly brown hair, and pointed ears rivaling any Lord of the Rings creation was speaking to me on Christmas Eve night. Needless to say, the only sound I mustered was an odd squeak.

"I do not believe I have ever been denied a name, either." It – or he – bore an almost bored tone, though it – he – was still poised for leaping back out the open window, or at my neck.

"Wha– what're you..." I attempted to ignore the pathetic quivering in my voice.

"Well," the elf twirled a short curl in his bony fingers idly, "I was originally a scout sent in front of the main party, if you know what I mean," he quirked a spike-haired eyebrow, "but now that such a mission is now inactive, I suppose I only have two options."

There was something about his impish grin that made me a bit more curious than terrified. It reminded me of my best friend Ethan's crooked smile. It made this thing seem a bit more human, if it weren't for the sinking idea of 'Santa's elf' weighing like an infant rhinoceros on my brain.

"First, I could knock you into unconsciousness so you forget about this entire ordeal," he leered as the mental alarm rang through my frozen body, "or, you can tell me want you want for Christmas."

cereagan
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RE: You See a Face Through Your Dark Window - 3/15

Postby cereagan » Tue May 31, 2011 10:08 pm

It was always the same.

The World slammed by, city by city, light became day, people become People.

The dark never changed. When I sat alone and looked toward the stars, feeling alone in the world, the dark never failed to excite me.

That night, after the fast food had been consumed and the parking lot was empty, I just sat, alone, with the stars and my moon, shining into the cab of the truck.

I leaned back, exhausted enough to fall asleep with the truck still idling.

I snorted awake, the sweet smell of gasoline mixed with my sweat filled the cabin. The shuffling sound filled my ears and made my neck twitch in fear.

I bolted upright and gripped the wheel in front of me, reassuring me of my place in the universe.

I looked to the left.

My reflection wasn't my own.

I bore down and peeked through my tear soaked eyes.

They had been watching and were waiting for my tears.

I clenched my eyes again and saw a face in the window of my truck.

The End, it said to me.

And so it was.

Chronic Daydreamer
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RE: You See a Face Through Your Dark Window - 3/15

Postby Chronic Daydreamer » Fri Jun 03, 2011 6:33 am

Ghost Of Innocence


Finally, I was away from him. Or was I?

In my dreams, he always caught up with me. I'd sit bolt upright to see that all-too-familiar face at the window, moonlight throwing into relief the hollows and lines that his madness had etched into it. His gaze held no love as it had once done, only resentment. My whole body froze. I had to get away. I couldn't get away. I couldn't move. My mouth wouldn't even open, wouldn't let out the scream I could feel building up.

"I told you," he said, sounding desperate. "If you left, I'd kill you." He reached out and grabbed the hair of somebody, pulling her head back. Her white-blonde, wispy hair and floaty summer dress gave her a ghostlike appearance, yet also made her the picture of naivete.

"Colton, no..." she whimpered. I stared into those wide grey eyes, those eyes I recognised. They were Bianca's. They were my own, and yet not my own. A knife glinted. Blood splattered her floral dress. It was only then that I could let my scream escape.

I woke to find myself lying on the sofa, drenched with sweat. My hair, frizzy from the brown dye, clung to my shoulders. On the TV, the sappy film I'd fallen asleep in front of played, the kind of film I watched in an attempt to cling to the remaining shards of my idealism. A sigh of relief left my lips. It was just a dream. The dream I'd had almost every night for a year.

In a way, he'd succeeded. He'd killed Bianca. He'd destroyed everything about her. Her optimism. Her friendly, trusting attitude. Now all that was was Renee, my new identity, forced to begin a new life in a new town and regard everyone with wariness. The name Renee was supposed to mean "reborn". So why was it so difficult to move on?

Propping myself onto one elbow, I tried to focus on the film. If only real life could be as simple as these fluffy movies. After a while, relaxation started to wash over me. Then something snapped me to my senses.

A face. A face at the window. No. It couldn't be...

Glass exploded over the floor. A figure crawled in, clutching a knife. I screamed, and my scream indicated that this time, this was no nightmare. My fears had come true.

"Bianca... oh Bianca, I knew I'd find you," Colton said, his tone coloured by twisted affection. He slammed me painfully to the ground and held me there, his grip tight. I saw him raise the knife.

In a split second, I did something Bianca would never have done. I reached to the side. My hand closed around a piece of glass. As I lifted it, shock flashed across his eyes. For a moment, he faltered, caught off guard. That moment was all I needed to swipe the glass across his throat. As long as I live, I will never forget the horror and disbelief on his face. He tried to draw in a gasp, only managing to make a strangled sound, before falling across me. His fingers uncurled, letting the knife slide from his grasp.

"My name isn't Bianca," I said, my voice shaking, as I wriggled out from under the body. "It's Renee. You killed Bianca a long time ago."

I dropped the glass next to where he lay among the bloodstained slivers. The only sound was the upbeat ending theme of the movie. I had never imagined our love story would end this way.

Just as Bianca would have done, I broke down into sobs. Through my tears, I could have sworn I saw her, a pale, ghostly face at the broken window. My former self cried with me. Then she faded away like a wisp of smoke, never to be seen again.

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