Gewill by Ruby Lee

Gewill

We find ourselves at the peak of one of the greyest days imaginable. The freezing wind rages over the dank valleys and pulls at the vegetation growing among them. As usual, the yellow morning sun has lost the battle of dominance over the clouds; they now form a defiant overlay to the moorland.

The landscape is a sea of heather and moss. It unfolds over the highlands like a ragged blanket, covers every damp surface of the hills and suffocates every square mile of earth. The ferns dip and dive over hills of rock and dirt, as waves of grasses and ferns ripple in every breath of wind, flatten with each hammering storm. Such violent storms arrive continuously, watched by every indifferent resident to the moors.

Tucked into a corner of the heath, lies the residence of Miss Katherine and Anne Stonem. These are, unquestionably, the only human inhabitants for miles. Their home is a cold and hollow cottage, connected to which are two empty horse stables. They live together on the moors and are disturbed by no one, for who would want to visit such a wasteland. Since living alone on the heath for years, the sisters have adapted their appearances to reflect their habitat. Each sister’s hair is matted and dry like the bracken blowing on the mountaintops. No amount of hard scratching soap can remove the smell of rain and mud these sisters carry with them, as though the soil lives inside them. So sisters and moors come together, blur into one, and both live within the other.

It was early morning. Katherine was winding through the undergrowth, allowing the bottom of her long skirt to stroke the surface of muddy earth. She held her head back as a gale of freezing wind began to push her body with almost frightening strength. Resisting the pressure of the wind, Katherine carried on down the moor’s slope. It was then that her eyes caught on the black silhouette, airborne across the field.

It came above her head, over the moor. The shape was dark and solid. It was hovering at about 150 feet, and was circling Katherine. It was a while before Katherine realised it was in fact a bird, black and huge, that flew superior to the prairie. After a while Katherine began to move on. Birds as black and impressive in size as this were unusual, but not so abnormal to distract Katherine from her fieldwork for very long.

However, as she began to walk, she heard a thud from behind her. Turning quickly, she saw on the grass a long curled ram’s horn. The horn was yellow and dirty, but hadn’t been attached to a ram for many years; the severance at the base was far too clean and tarnished. Oddly, it was shiny in a way that made it seem like it had been rubbed repeatedly in the same place by many fingers. Katherine picked up the horn and stared at it. She ran her rough hand over the rutted surface of the bone, playing her fingers over the ridges and fluting of the object. As she held it between her fingers, a thin piece of paper slipped from within the hollow horn. Written on it were the words:

‘earfoþmæcg, ness ic agitian abiron gewill’. The message was written in old English, and translated to, ‘ unfortunate one, here I bestow one wish.’

Back at the stone cottage, Katherine’s sister, Anne, was huddled near the fire, curled in a corner of the room. She stretched her clammy hands towards the flames. Bony and dead, her expression seldom changed. The orange fire reflected off her grey features, but it would take fire sent from hell to warm Anne’s heart or spirit. Anne was never really present in her own home, in her own body. She had been driven mad by the wilderness of the heath, which lurked miserably outside the window. It taunted the sisters with its swaying foliage, like so many jeering fingers sprouting from the soil. Katherine had lost her sister to the moors and there was little hope of her return.

A gust of noisy wind swept into the room. Katherine burst through the door and slammed it behind her, leaving the moaning storm outside. It pressed against the wooden door and stubbornly shook the old iron bolts. Anne had not reacted to the commotion, and remained hunched at the fir. Outside, it was nearing darkness.

Katherine held the horn in apron, and approached her sister. She held it out and placed it gently on her lap. Anne started as though she had been slapped. She looked down at the horn on her knees and read the message. When she had finished she blinked a few times, slowly, and raised her eyes to her sister.

‘So this grants wishes?’

‘Yes, it does.’

Anne lowered the horn and lifted her head to stare back into the fire. She inhaled the smoke and ash from the flames, smelt the rusty metal of the ancient grate. As she breathed the woody scent of smoke she was reminded of dirt and flour. Like dry, dusty pathways through murky bracken, or the steaming scent of hot nutmeg or burning dough.  The fire swelled tears in Anne’s eyes and dried her grey hair like straw. Anne swallowed and tasted heat on her tongue and in her throat.

‘I shall have the wish, being the eldest.’ Anne said at last.

‘No, I shall take the wish. I found the horn!’ Katherine exclaimed, staring at her sibling in shocked defiance.

‘Yes but you are stupid and compulsive Katherine. You will wish for something Selfish and unhelpful, I know you will.’ Anne replied very calmly, never looking Katherine in the eye.

‘How dare you Anne!’ Katherine cried, moving towards her sister, whatever I wish for is no concern of yours. The wish is mine!’ With these words Katherine stormed across the tiny room and snatched the horn from Anne’s sweaty fingers. Anne rose from her seat and moved towards Katherine and the horn, just as Katherine began to run her thumb along the tarnished rim of the horn, as so many had done before her.

But Anne had traveled the length of the room across to Katherine and was already reaching for the silver horn. The two sisters wrestled for the horn, in till finally, Anne prized it from her sister’s rigid fingers.  Holding the horn close to her bosom, Anne began to murmur her single wish.

‘Take me away from these awful moors. I want to leave forever. Please take-’.  Anne’s wish was cut short, as the horn had been thrown from her hands once again, this time by Katherine’s large palm. Katherine grabbed the horn and ran towards the door. She flew herself out into the now dark pasture, closely followed by Anne. The wind swirled around the women, and roared in their ears like a deafening tune of dark magic, sent from the very peaks of the icy mountains.

Katherine stumbled wildly up the rocky hills slope, trembling and panting like a witch. After a while she stopped and looked behind her. Anne was half a step behind her. She lurched forwards and took a hold of the horns smooth ridge. But Katherine held on, and so both sisters gripped the ram’s old horn, and looked into each other’s faces.

They screamed their wishes at exactly the same moment, spitting the words out like poison. After the wish had been spoken from each sister’s lips, they realized in turn that they had both wished for the same thing, and stared in horror at what the other had said.

Because the last words audible on the moors for many years, was the cold sentence:

‘I wish you were dead!’

                                      ***

    

The rain beat upon the sodden earth like a million bullets fired from the heavens. If one were to find themselves in the middle of such a storm, there would be no way of seeing more than a meter in front of your face; the rain way so thick and heavy. Overhead, the sky was black and smothering in a way that made it hard to move. However the moon made it possible to see certain objects, such as the jet-black bird than flew overhead. After a while you would see it drop and swoop through the undergrowth and land, without a sound, in the black soil. Picking its way through the skeletons, the bird locates the horn and, taking it in its beak, raises its streamlined body into the clouds and disappears. Leaving behind the rotting corpses of the two sisters, who’s shrieks still echo amidst the purple heather of the hills.

Last Goodbye by Zeynep Guven

Five months ago, April was standing in the same house, in the same room, wearing the same thing. Closing her eyes, she let all the memories of her marriage come flooding in. How had she ended up here? It had happened too quickly. Maybe 10 minutes. “No five minutes”, argued April with herself. It wasn’t possible. Her heart beat began to slow down. She tried to stop herself from remembering. She tried to push back in the memory. She tried. She really did. But it didn’t work. She was weak and that image was far too strong. She felt herself having a flashback, to the worst five minutes of her life. She felt tears roll down her cheek. She knew there wasn’t a point in acting like it didn’t happen. It did happen, and the image was getting stronger and stronger.

April was washing her face; after another long day.  She wiped of her make-up (the one she put on for him: but took off before he got home). She walked into the kitchen and turned the kettle on.

“He loves a cup of tea, when he gets home”, sang April to herself. She placed two cups on the table, ready drink from. She tied her hair back; she changed into her night gown; and that’s when her life changed forever. It was late at night, and there was a full moon. The stars where shinning. Once the clock stroke 11, April started to count down the seconds, for when he will be home.

1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,12,13,14………

                                                                      ***

409,410,411,412,413, 414,415………..

                                                                       ***

It was soon 12o’clock. April knew better than going out in her night gown. Instead, she took out the photo album; and looked over her past years. Ever time she saw his face; she stroked it carefully and kissed his forehead. Seconds turned to minutes. Minutes turned into hours. Hours into days, without her husband by her side.

She knew she shouldn’t. But she couldn’t help herself. He was later than usually. It wasn’t normal. All sort of horrible things came to her mind. She punched them away and told herself, “the train most if been cancelled”. When she finally realised he wasn’t coming, she opened the front door and slowly walked outside. It was very quiet, as it was very late at night. But April could her distant voices.

“He most of had a few drinks with the boys”, thought April as she rushed over to the approaching shadows. Her heart was beating with love.

She stopped. She had made a mistake. It couldn’t be right.

In front of her stood 4 complete strangers. It was obvious they had, had a few drinks earlier. April took slow steps backwards; but they just got closer and closer: Till they were standing nose to nose.

“Hey, you, sexxxy ladieeeeeeeee”, called one.

“What doiong out here so late?” asked another.

April turned back but they were too quick for her. Soon enough she was on the floor. How had it happened? How could she live? How could she ever walk in public again? How could she look him in the eye and say, “I’m all yours”?   The questions seemed to build up the more she thought about it. One minute she was happily waiting for her husband the next she was on the floor wanting to kill herself.

April took one last look around the house. She began to say her goodbyes. First, to the kitchen where she cooked him meals; Then, to the table, where they ate them; Next, to the sofa, where they cuddled up after a long day. Finally, to the bedroom where she slept in peace knowing he was always there for her.

                    

                  She knocked down the chair and everything went white.                                                                                      

Daemon deja-vu by Alliyah Campbell

        Daemon déjà vu

I held the rose tightly in my hands even though the warmth of its love has long since leached into the frozen air. My muscles clenched and my cut lip pressed into a hard line as I gazed beyond the misty panes. No-one knew of this pain, besides me. The pain was almost tangible; the pain was soaring through the air as I looked down upon the floor to see myself. My psychological bond. Daemon.

The abnormal creature lay across the Venetian rug as if it was a possum- emotionless and dead. Its body which belonged to the fierce Lion was now vulnerable.  Its Serpent tail slept, mocking me. The head of the goat now no nobler than old beggars under sacks. Lamentably, my psychological being was the suspect of this crime. My thoughts and feelings and ambitions and downfalls were reflected through Daemon. Similar to déjà vu, but in this case it was reality. All the sadness and hurt I have to relive through my Daemon.

A tear gently cascaded down the hills of my cheeks, I hugged my breaking body.

And he hugged his limping body with both arms- clasping himself, as if he would break.

Despite the unfortunate fate of having to deal with pain twice Daemons are known to be good and benevolent nature spirits and my life with one starts now…

Friday 25^th September 2010

Chimera. The name of my Daemon.

My strides became slower and slower as the thought of me having a Daemon, seemed remotely realistic.  But the hands on the metal handle didn’t hesitate. With relentless, uncaring force, the hands of clocks and the handle in the Master’s Room turned inexorably to the end- I could only watch as it dragged me into a day that I’ve been dreading.

In this moment of sheer panic and fear, Chimera’s lion body stands strong, yet, doubting this strong façade, the serpent tail is subtly concocting a plan to get out of this room. The goat’s horns suddenly awoke from within it dark caves- Chimera was at its strongest. I was at my strongest. We were at our strongest. Fear was no longer an option, as the wind gently brushed my face, it brushed away my fear. Tick tock. Tick tock. The four walls seemed to be pulling towards us. I thought jump. Chimera responded…

We should’ve got up, moved around, and worked the stiffness from our limbs. But instead we lay on the vast meadow amongst glass shards, while the dawn began to lighten the woods.  When the golden ball rose from the east, we rose to our feet.  Almost as if we were babies to a new world, our life seemed surreal. Miraculously, we made it out of that territory that we trespassed in, through the vast mazes of trees intertwined in the forest and our bond stronger than ever. We were astounded and Chimera was a duplicate of my emotion. His mane shone bright, a spectrum of light ricocheting against it, casting beautiful waves of colour. He growled proudly showing the sharp, vicious teeth. The serpent hissed with satisfaction and the goat’s head tilted with authority.

But our emotion adventure was far from over.  .

I knew if I slept at all last night, that my nightmares would engulf me.  I was petrified to shut my eyes, his black hollow eyes, his scarred face and threatening voice would haunt me. The blood on the freshly opened wound was left trickled on my jacket. The gruesome past was not something I thought often about but was secluded in the back of my mind. Chimera knows everything, my thoughts are traitors- traitors that cause pain to others.

  Now I was frightened, I kept seeing him, his face appeared in the trees, the bushes, and the houses and limping beside me. Or was I in the trees? In the bushes? Was I hallucinating and Chimera too? Even though I couldn’t see Chimera, someone was still yelling out and stumbling. The image of his deep black eyes writhing in his face sickened me.

Eventually I managed to gain stability and grasped my death tool- the rose. I held the rose tightly in my hands even though the warmth of its love has long since leached into the frozen air. My muscles clenched and my cut lip pressed into a hard line as I gazed beyond the misty panes. Love, happiness and success were never able to stay within oneself and Chimera felt the same. Most days were bad for me, the disastrous weather the only thing that understood the pain. Now I had been granted with a Daemon, the weather and I would no longer be alone.

Hopefully, Chimera surpasses any of my great expectations and reveals what life can be like when your thoughts are materialised.

Game Over by Jordan Barrett

Game Over

I will always remember the day, when I left that dreadful world and entered the real world. I remember the challenges and struggle, I had to go through. On that day, I pushed myself to the limit. The objective of that world was to kill. There was no one to stop you. There was no real government, no freedom of speech and no system. The government turned my world into a place where, man was the hunter and was been hunted. Civilisation truly crumbled down. The day we were released from that world, they called us “the chosen ones”, as they thought we were courageous and mighty. I however, completely disagreed with them- but never had the “might” to say that to their faces. The government called me a hero but I am no hero, instead, just a brutal monster, who killed one of his own people for a chance to be free. On that day, I fought for my life, but sadly took away someone else’s. 

The world of Game Over was a very diverse place. The map of my world was an oval shaped circle, with a dark- black circle in the centre. It looked like an eye. Surrounding the pupil of this eye-shaped world was a town. A town full of darkness and depression. The sky was always covered in darkness, the buildings were destroyed and the financial world had gone into credit crunch. My world contained children from all over the world. Some young and others much older. I was one of the older ones- much stronger and intelligent. There were exactly 150 children- 25 from each continent. We were split up into six colonies. In our colony we lived together- in a parent-free world. All of our parents had been held at hostage, by the government. The government controlled everything, from the bare essentials like food and water, to higher things like electricity. The government acted as our so- called “parents”- showing no care, or comparison. By, us being the children, they were able to take advantage of us. Forcing us to work as slaves and receive little food for it. The government put posters around the town saying, “the more you work, the closer you are to seeing your parents”. These phony propaganda posters encouraged many of the children, to continue with these daunting tasks. Expect me, I knew that there was more behind this and I was prepared to investigate more.

As I said before, we were split into 6 different colonies, each one containing 25 children. The colonies each contained five people, from different continents. For example, my colony was called Alpha and we had five children from Europe and the same number from Africa, North America, South America, Asia and Oceania. This was a good mixed of people in each colony, which was good, due to the fact that we all had an individual skill. The government distributed different coloured clothes, to each colony. Our team was dressed top to bottom, in blue clothing- with each piece having a black tick, as the logo. The government told us that our groups and the clothing, had something to do with “advertisement”, but we didn’t take much notice. Many of the colonies were good comrades. When, one colony did not receive enough food, from the government, other colonies would sneak into their base and share some of their food with them. We were all like a big family, just split up into 6 different sections. No one hated, or wished bad upon you. We just wanted to see our “real families” again. It is amazing how, this symbolic bond, was soon going to be broken.

Today is the day that changed everything. I was woken up, by the horrendous voice of Napoleon Adolf, the government leader, via a loud speaker. Speakers were placed all over the town- so the government could give out daily information. Today was very different though. He had stated “all colonies, must attend the town square at 9:00 am. Attendance is compulsory”.  So with that in mind, our team set off, travelling to the town square. As we walked, we saw the other five colonies walk beside us. From an aeroplane view, we all looked like migrating rainbow. As we walked down the dark town, surrounding the sides were a group of thousands of men. These men held guns, which were locked in the palms of their hands. Looking at the state of the guns, they looked like they had been used recently, so none of us said a word.  As we approached the town square, I saw the leader of the government. I had seen many pictures of him around the town,

but, this was the first time; I was able to see him, this close up. He was quite a tall man, with short black hair and wore a black suit with a matching black tie. I noticed on that tie, had a red star on it. By his side, was the rest of his government board, all smartly dressed. As Napoleon Adolf got into his position to speak, we all had to stand and bow down to him. As we done this, we all looked like domino pieces, dropping to the fall. He said “welcome all. I have noticed that life in this world has become slightly, boring, in my view. Therefore, I have created a game for you to play”. Knowing what Mr Adolf was like, I knew this sounded bad. He than went on to saying, “the objective of this game is to kill your own people”. The audience broke out into an outrage. “The last ten children will be set free from this world, with their parents by their side” he said. The audience turned silence. “There are no rules, nothing stopping you from winning.” he continued. “Good luck”, he said sacristy, walking back into his mansion. We all knew a new war had begun.

The next week later, five children had already been killed. One an old friend of mine, Ben Thomas. We were both in the same colony. Things were about to get even worse, because the government had given out weapons to each child. From knives to guns. As I looked at their faces, I could see the rush of blood, running through their heads- causing their adrenaline to take over. I had to admit; even I felt this rush through me. But, I came back to reality and refused to make this dangerous adrenaline virus, contaminate me. I took my weapon. I decided to take a small weapon, as I knew I was not going to use it, in these sickening games. The sight of seeing 7 year olds, holding guns bigger than them, made me feel sick. Then, it began. The sight of blades going through heads and bullets go through bodies, made me run. I ran for my life. I was scared and traumatised. I had to run through the storm of bullets. Luckily, I am still alive, to continue this story. However, for many of people, their life had come to its final chapter. The darkness that filled the sky was over taken, by a tsunami of blood. Blood that was, fresh and still energetic. The blood gave the colourless town, a new fresh coat of red paint. Paint made of pain and agony. During all this horrific action, the government did nothing; absolutely nothing. They looked upon this brutality, like it was a spectator sport; applauding the falling of people. Death had taken over the town. 

Three months had gone past. The town had turned into a war zone. The land of Game Over was filled, with dead bodies, of many different children. We stated with 125 children and were now down to 50. A total of 75 children had been killed. Wherever you went, you had found the pieces of decaying bodies, or more children fighting for their lives. Could you image, the sights I have seen and the smells encountered, for the last three months? Luckily, I was still alive. I had not killed anyone though. I made a promise to myself, not to kill anyone in his town. How could I! They were all like brothers and sisters to me- but they did not see me as a brother anymore, but as the enemy. So, instead of fighting, I hid in the old tall buildings. Being this high up, I was able to see everything that went on below me. Also, now instead of sleeping in our bases, with our colony, the government set up a new check in and out system. Mr Adolf had to enforce a new rule that, fighting can only take place between the times of 9:00am to 10:00pm- due to the amount of people starting to decrease. We were forced to check in at 10:00pm and sleep in these very uncomfortable cages. At 9:00 am, we were released back into that war zone. Everything seemed to be going okay for me. I turned from team player, into silence peaceful assassin. But as the numbers started to drop even more, things became more challenging.

From 50 children, down to the last 11. Things had become very intense and dangerous. I have had two cases, were I was almost killed. The first case, I was surrounded by two guys, aged around 15. They both held two knives. I was not going to fight them, so I ran away. They came chasing after me, saying “come back there and fight you coward”. I was running and saw a wall in front of me. I didn’t know what do to. Suddenly, out of no where, my adrenaline became so high and I wall-ran over the wall. I lost the sight of the boys and I was very confused about what had just happen. It was like I lost control of my body and someone else was controlling it for me. The second case caused me, having to break my promise. A girl came up to me, holding a pistol in her hand. I tried to persuade her to put the gun down, but she said “no, I need to be one of the

last ten children left in this world, so I can leave with my parents”. She bust into tears and took the first shot. It went straight through my left arm. I cried out, in agony. She was about to fire the second one. I quickly used my right arm, got a knife and had no choice but, to throw it into her head- for the instant kill. She fell to the ground. A puddle of blood surrounded her body. I felt terrible, but I had to do it. The last ten were left. 

I return back to the introduction- to the present. Now you know how I reached to be one the last ten. The ten of us checked in and walked to our cages, to see Mr Adolf, waiting for us. “Well done, you ten have shown true bravely and will be rewarded for it”, he said. We were taken to the centre of the town- the pupil. No one had been there before- as it was surrounded by, the men with guns and was infected by bloodthirsty sharks. The journey was quite long, as the only way there was by boat. The boat shook from left to right, as we headed to the centre of the land. The vast white fog filled thickened in the sky, as we got closer and closer to the centre. We soon were there to find our parents waiting for us, smiling. I saw my mum and dad and gave them a big hug. We were able to leave, the land of Game Over. However, after all of this I feel confused. Was this all, really necessary? Killing people, so you can be free?

***

My life has been, very confusing. I hope life in the real world is different.

***

I wake up, to the sound of baby blues birds, singing joyful notes in the morning. This pianissimo rhythm, acted as a string; pulling me out of my comfortable bed. The smell of breakfast, acts like an invisible attracting magnet to my nose- causing me to go down stairs. As I got closer to the kitchen, the attraction got stronger and stronger. I finally got there and was able to enjoy my breakfast- cooked by my mother and father. Afterwards, I went back up stairs, to brush my teeth. Things like brushing my teeth and having a decent breakfast, felt like privileges- after being in the land of Game Over, for the last 16 years. As I return to my bed, I think about my new life. The world here is very different, the land of Game Over. In this world, people are wakened to a blue sky. The people have the ability, to be able to choose the government, of their land. The food is fresher and the town is full of colour. Things are excellent here. This place has been rated the number one place to live, in the world. Yep, life is good. Maybe a bit too good...

Some days, I wonder, if fighting to live here, was really such a good reward. I mean, I do like it here, but something it feels wrong. I feel like this world, is watching me. I always asked my parents if they feel the same way, but they always reply, “don’t be silly, Tom. You are just not use to this standard of life yet. It will be very hard for you to adjust to this world, but eventually you will”. Never answering the question, but instead, answering one I never asked. It’s almost like; they don’t want to tell me how they feel. I felt the tension, grow between us, every time I ask this. In due time, I will find out their answer, even if I have to ask for the rest of my life.   

Is there really such a thing called a “real world”? Things have a way of happening, allowing you to question reality. Are we living a dream, or is there just no “real world”? Was the fight actually necessary? I am confused and don’t know what to do next.  

Real world or not, I need to find out what is happening