creative minds

Huddled together upon the hill-top, he held me within his arms, my head askew as we watched the sun rise above the tree tops; which stood tall and proud within the distance.  A small fire we burned during the cold night of our stay within the two man tent, had just started to fizzle out. The cooling branches popped, while the grey smoke puffed and carried away with the passing breeze.
He turned and looked at me, his green eyes gazing into my blue eyes with such deepness. His love for me emerging through his smile and his flowing words a song to my ears… 

Please stop’ her cries towards her husband’s brutal actions carried through the openness of the empty car park.  Her  tight fitting white dress torn by his musclar physique. The enforcement to take what was rightfully his performed an in-appropriate act upon the coldness of the ground. 
A river of tears gathered within her eyes as her husband zipped himself away, his grey shirt hanging loosely.  He gazed at his newly-wed as she curled into a ball. Her sniffles carrying the fear as she glanced back at his smug grin.
They’d only been together for three months and carried away by his promises of a rich and wonderful life. She agreed to marry the swine.  It only took two whole days of married bliss to ermerge the beast within him.  She actually believed in him, and believed she loved him. But as her eyes focused upon his shuddering shoulders from his laughter, she dwelled upon illict thoughts. She would get revenge, play along with what he wants, and then POW! But what would she do? How would she do it?  It would take time, meaning more abuse, more heart ache and more bruises to add to her growing collection…

The taste of poison rimmed her lips as her tongue licked at the excitement of inheriting a lonely old lady’s fortune.  Her ill health digging at her grave - day by day - as a rare disease ate agressively, her thoughts of her family  a flash of bright light as she sank into the thickness of her king sized bed, the thick silk duvet folded neatly up to her chin as she lay listening to the brewing storm within the distance of the comfort of her million pound mansion.
   The maids were all she had within her life; as she struck all members of her family from her life due to her greed.  Her money all she ever thought of. Her children and grand children a burden to her freedom. 
It wasn’t until the old lady found out she was going to die that she chose to see her family. But they didn’t want to know.  She had brushed them away at much needed times, now it was her turn.  As cruel as it may seem, they really didn’t know this old lady any more.
  Gracy - the longest serving maid - planned on killing the selfish old lady.  Her years serving the un-greatful cold hearted beast span her mind from all normality.  The illict thoughts breathing life back into her exhausted body. She was going to be free, but at the same time, claim the inheritance she soley deserved.
Raising the wine glass to her lips as she sat within the candle lit kitchen, she relaxed from her long and exhausting shift.  The other maids retired to their - not so comfortable - bare and cold rooms.
The wine went straight to her head. Her empty stomach absorbing the red wine like a sponge, and her teeth grinding as she thought about how much she hated the cold hearted beast, even in her illness there were no kind thoughts.
   The old lady rang the annoying servent bell which echoed around the steel kitchen appliances.  Gracy placed her glass upon the table and pushed herself to stand. The illict thoughts raced through her mind.  She strolled towards the kitchen door and glanced up the stairway to her right. The darkness glazing her view.
Each step she took alerted her presence. The old lady knew someone was emerging through the darkness.  Gracy stood by the door as the old lady’s distorted voice called, her weakness disabling her attempts to sit.
Gracy stepped back and knocked a vase from the small table by the door. The pieces shattering by her feet and her nervous breath surrounding the darkness around her.
The old lady called through the darkness, but she received no reply. The eerie silence now her enemy - she was too sick and frail to move, she knew someone was there, and she knew she was in danger…but in danger to what…or who?

The diamond upon her finger glistened under the moonlight on this very warm summer night; as she stood upon the balcony that over looked the sleeping seabed.  Her red silk dress hugged her curvy figure that she worked so hard for through her healthy diet and personal fitness trainer. 
The corners of her mouth raised as her eyes gazed addictively at the ring. The dreams of her future with her fianc’e - a flash of summer flowers and golden beach strolls…topping up the tan to keep the look her fianc’e comments on everyday.
   Candice is a thirty year old business lady - not so much delving into the business herself ; she owns the company of fashion, employing others to run her golden business while she spends most of her time with her equally rich partner - Joe - jewlery stores glistened with rare, and the most expensive diamonds you could wish for. 
The couple had been seeing one another for three years before Joe plunged into proposing to Candice.  Their world rocked with parties, holidays and fancy dinners with friends and collegues.  To top it all off - they purchased a Yacht within the Carrabian Islands. 
   It was here on the yacht that Joe proposed.  The candle lit dinner upon the deck of the vessel was very much  romantic.  An approaching violinist played a soft tone as the important question slipped from his lips - his eyes drowning within his tears gathering from the happiness swimming through his veins.  A few silent minutes as the violinist paused - the ocean tapping gently against the vessel as he waited anxiously, her positive reply like music to his ears.  He strolled towards her and embraced her within his arms. The atmosphere a dream like state as they plunged into the deepest kiss. But suddely the dream was soon to end. The violinist reached into his pocket and pulled out a hand gun, and then BANG! a single bullet struck Joe through his heart, his body falling slowly and lying within a pool of blood.  
Candice glanced at the violinist, his voice whispering to her ears…’we did it babe.’   
Candice stepped over Joe’s lifeless body and embraced the violinist. His arms held her tight before he made his way into the lounge.  She looked down at Joe’s body swimming within the pool of blood before making her way to the balcony. The calm ocean under the moonlight a silent witness - a life insurance scam planned by two con-artists - the money to better her business.
  Candice held a glass of wine as she glanced at the ring - her mouth raising at the corners. Who now will  fall victim to their tedious plans and their greed? 

Everyday life passes as I lean against the cold glass pane within my bedroom.  The heavy traffic passing with no idea of my entrapment within my family home. 
Im a young boy - a twelve year old who use to go to school and was quite bright, and I never spoke out of line to anyone.   
   When I was seven, my father died in a car accident, and of course my mother missed him, but she had to move on - well, that’s what she told me anyway. 
We now live with Darren. He pays for everything.  He even told my mum to give up her nursing - I heard him, he was the jealous type, he insisted she gave up work so other men wouldn’t look at her. 
My room is like a place where the bad people go when policemen take them away, only seeing the door open for a scrap of food handed through. All my toys and games were taken from me too. They were bad for me - he said.  Instead I work, school work, only Im not in school.  Maybe he took me out of school because he was afraid that someone would see the bruises from his heavy hands when he gets mad, or notice the despair within my eyes when I look at them.  You’re probably thinking the obvious - climb out the window. I thought of that, but my window’s too high. He also put a lock on it to stop me opening it.  I can’t bang on the window either.  He said if I did, then, well, he would hurt my mother.  You’ll probably thinking; why doesn’t my mother do something?  If I were you; I would too, but he’s a psychotherapist - one word from my mum and she’ll end up back in the hospital - where she met him. 
   My mum was in the hospital not long after my dad died. She couldn’t cope.  I was there for her and other relatives were too, but now we’ve moved to America, we only have him. 
   Days, then nights move. Different faces on the busy streets and the blanket of lights from busy city light my room.  Every morning and every night I look out of my window.  A little hope that someone might glance up and notice the despair within my eyes - but I know that’s not going to happen. I know because we live in an appartment, eight floors high. Knowone will ever beable to see the despair within my eyes.  
   I count every day, he forgets that I won’t always be a child - maybe I’ll become as big as him, or maybe even bigger - but I know, when I do, he will pay…

My distorted breath carried through the darkness as I nestled terrified from a presence surrounding me.   A tree amongst the wooldland within the darkness of the night protected me from the intrepidation of the un-known, but still, solitude from any human life greatened my fear.  
I had previously spent the day with friends.  You know how young and foolish girls like to show off and to become popular with their mates - until it all goes wrong…
Im seventeen, slim build with a funky style of fashion.  Well, let’s just say - I get noticed - with my purple and yellow layered hair.  My friends are all simular - some people like to name us as punks or just  ‘waste of space.’  I wouldn’t say that though, all we wanted was to be different…and boy…did we get what we wanted.
   The woodland everyone avoided because of rumours of a multiple of murders years previously - seemed a great day out for myself and my five other funky friends.  It was all fine during the day, swinging off branches, climbing the trees and playing hide and seek.  Then darkness crept in, that’s when the fun really began…
A sudden mist crepted through the woodland from the distance, but within it, the mist carried a presence.  This presence was evil and wasn’t going to let us go without a fight. 
The whistle from the strengthening breeze added to my fear and the call of the wild stood hairs upon my body…like defensive soldiers on guard.  My body shivered as the darkness greatened, my call to my mates who I’d seperated from due to the thickening mist, went un-noticed, and the presence that was taking notice - I wanted to ignore.
The coldness sliced at my revealed skin as I waited for a response from my mates, but still, the waiting proved I was still alone.  Suddenly a whisper carried past me as I nestled for protection - the whisper - deep and thretened from my presence, but It was me who was trapped, I wanted to run but couldn’t. An icy touch upon my shoulder startled me, the touch springing me to my feet - but there was nothing there - then my attention was alerted by a sudden scream echoing from the distance.  I called to the cries which suddenly faded into the distance.  Was it one of my mates?  I was terrified as one by one, screams echoed witin the distance, only to fade like the first - it was difficult to tell if it was them.  I tried to control my emotions but was beaten by my fear.  My eyes filmed with tears as I broke down.  All I wanted was to go home. 
   From the distance a light slowly approached me, with it, a cry for help filtered through.  Again, I experienced the same icy touch, but also endured visions, the visions like flash backs of a troublesome past-life, pain, torture and death.  I was taken over by this presence, the lives flashing hastily and my body enduring the pain within my vision, which soon caused me to pass out at the base of the tree.
   Hours passed and the night soon became day, my trembling hands wiping at my eyes as I focused.  The sun beamed down upon me and the clouds passed slowly within the blue sky.  I returned to my feet but was unable to see any of my mates - prehaps they’d found their way out and made it home.  Upon the tree trunk a message carved within the wood caught my eye.  ‘This tree is the protector, those who believe…will survive.’   I stumbled as the statment rolled from my tongue, a whisper following, carrying with it -  lonely souls - prehaps the rumours were true all along - but were they murderd by some nut case or is there a killer within the presence of the woodland.  One thing I knew…was that I wasn’t hanging around to find out. 
   When I did eventually make it back home, I found out that none of my mates had made it out of the woodland.  Who ever carved that statement into the tree knew of the dangers lurking within the darkness - the tree protected me, but I guess I’ll never find out what happened to my mates, are their souls lurking within the darkness?  All I know is that they’re now listed as missing.

The rough sea crashed against the sleeping seabed, the moonlight glistened upon the foaming waves, and the houses that margined the coastline erect with silence as the residence slept cosily within their beds. But - unknown to them - an intruder lurked within the darkness of the cloudy night.  
   This intruder is a lonely person with a troubled mind.  Unable to keep any job - he turned to crime - stealing, bruling and drugs - unable to make friends, his cry for help went un-noticed as he incarcerated himself for many days within the tiny, and damp bedsit he could afford.
   The footsteps scurried along the cobbled pathway lining the coast.  His dark clothing camouflaged within the darkness and his eyes darted from house to house as he thought of his desire to gain access to one of the properties.
   The disturbed mind of this lonely soul, posted images of inhumane behaviour.  His split personality - a reason maybe- he found it hard to socialise. 
He pulled his hood over his head as he halted opposite a large golden gate - his solider posture from his short stay at the regiment - emerging as his mind whizzed with a combanation of forced entrances. 
Climbing the gate, he threw his leg over and pounced - landing to a crouch upon the floor.
His breaths echoed through the silence around him; drowned out now and then by a sudden crash of thundering waves.  Ahead of him, the white door had a personal invitation as a pot plant sat upon the step below the window, his key to his means of entrance.
Inside the house was silent.  The darkness only lit by the nightlights dotted around.  He tiptoed along the thick piled carpet  freshly laid he thought, as the scent of the wrapping tickled his nose. 
He made his way into the lounge. The large flat screen screamed at him as he wished he could live like these wealthy people.  Strolling across to it, his hand reached out, and he fell deep in thought of the life he could have, a perfect family with the perfect home.
Suddely - a scuffle above him jerked him from his daze.  The owner of the property making his way from his bedroom and down the stairs through the darkness.  He made his way into the kitchen - still half asleep, his hand scattering to find the light switch.  As he made his way towards the sink, he felt a chill from the hallway.  He crept to the kitchen door and peered around the corner - his eyes falling upon the broken glass and the latch loose on the door. 
He reached for the phone that was attached to the kitchen wall and began to dial the emergency - the operator requesting for a service, but receiving no reply.  A voice emerged through the darkness…
 ’I wouldn’t if I were you!’
He replaced the phone and slowly turned to the command, welcomed by a gun aiming straight at his head.  An exchange of facial expressions lead to questions, brave questions on the owners behalf, did he want to loose his life?
   The intruder brushed the questions thrown at him; from his mind.  His desperation to get away worth more than the life facing him.  He wasn’t going to leave empty handed either. A few top of the range mobiles and the flat screen were top of his list.
With the gun held at his head - the owner had no choice but to hunt for the items the intruder requested, dashing from one room to the other, like a shopping trip as he bundled all the small items into his dark ruck sack.  He paused by the back door within the kitchen as a reflection within the glass of the door revealed a lady with a gun pointing towards him, and her orders for him to drop his gun flowing from behind.  Her aim towards him angered him; like a match striking fireworks.  He spun to her orders, but not to drop the gun. He pulled the trigger, and within seconds the lady lay within a pool of blood.  His fury killed her - he watched as her husband dashed franticly towards her and nestled to cover the wound the bullet struck within her chest. Her heart embedded with the bullet of fury, and her life drained quickly from her.
   Her husband held her tight within his tightening arms as his fury built within. His hand lowering onto his wife’s stomach - a bump lay still as her breath stopped. Heavily pregnant, the life of the unborn child was also at risk.  
The intruder gazed motionless as he realised the lady was pregnant. His gun sliding from his hand and clanging upon the floor.  Laying within the hands of his dead wife - the gun - still loaded and ready to go.  He slid his hand from the wound and grasped the gun - his fury ending the life of the intruder, his unborn childs life within the hands of the paramedics, and his life changed forever as he says goodbye to his wife and baby daughter he never got to know.

‘Take me with you’ the homeless girl begged the smart suited man stepping from the train to continue the rest of his journey to work by foot.  His slick dark hair glistening from the lights in the tube.  ‘Please sir’ she continued…’Im hungry and very cold.’  She nestled by the esculator as he snubbed her exsitence - what would people think if he assosiated himself with a person who dressed in torn clothes - not forgetting - twice her usual size. 
The steep esculator chomped slowly up to the top, the girl looking up and distanced to his eyes.  He dropped his head as he looked down upon his shiny clean shoes that just stepped to the floor…his heart aching from the selfishness swimming through his blood.  He wasn’t brought up that way…ignore the needy - that wasn’t what he was brought up to do. 
Across the street from the exit of the station, a stall with flowers called to him.  He picked the blood red roses - twenty of them - guessing she was around the same age as the amount of roses he’d bought.  His shoes tapped along the pathway and back into the station.  He watched as the girl begged passerbys - all snubbing her just like he did.  A tear gathered as he watched - then slowly, he made his way down.
The young girl looked up and smiled as he stood within the distance…his grasp upon the roses tightening as he angered through peoples reactions.
The girl rose to her feet, her smile still dressing her face - the best dress she’d ever owned.  The announcement of another train pulling in echoed around the tunnels - the girl looking at the tracks. 
At that moment - the man with the suit dropped the roses…the petals scattering across the platform - his eyes witnessing the girl as she lept high - her body struck by the arriving train - her sad life ignored by the world that passed her by.

His kiss fell upon my head with a warm embrace.  His arms, firm and caring, craddled me as we lay upon the grass under the moon-light.  The glow within his eyes showed me how much he cared and the sparkle enhanced by the glow of the small fire he lit within the steel bin.  The flames licked at the blistering wood and the crakle filled the openness.  I gazed into his eyes.  My body felt weak as his touch upon my cheek glided towards my chin, his words spilling his feelings for me as he whispered…his breath stroking at my ear - the feeling is love.

The shadows of my past haunt my life today.  Every moment - an action, a word - or scenery…reminds me of the darkness within my soul.  Isolated from the rest of the world within my white padded cell, my personality crumbles as the darkness within emerges.  The troubled soul over powered any means of self-control within my life - a blank - to the many horrific crimes I’d been accused of.  A blood bath of a string of murders - my foot prints within the pools of blood - trailed back to my dwelling.  A freak! A Twisted being! A monster! Cruly slandered within the daily papers - not many stories printed, as ‘The Demon’ freak added plenty of entertainment to the many ignorant readers.  Yes…it was my footprints within the victims pools of blood, and my blooded prints upon the walls and scenery…but it wasn’t me that commited those crimes.  Insane - yes- but the crimes were commited by the lost soul hidden within.  My body - it’s protection - my life…it’s prisoner!