Starlight, Moonlight

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

David and Maisie are trying to figure out the complex (yet child-like, almost) mind of a young man named Jimmy. He murdered two men without realising it due to the dream-like state that he appears to be in most of the time. Since he is wanted, they are keeping him away from public and trying to figure out his mental illness on their own, with many obstacles in their way as the story goes on.
It's just something I began to write to get out of my current writer's block. I am looking to continue it. If you have questions about it you can ask. If not, well then I hope somebody enjoys it. If not, oh well. I'll keep writing for my own pleasure.

Chapter 1 (v.1) - Starlight, Moonlight

Submitted: March 06, 2011

Reads: 110

A A A | A A A

Submitted: March 06, 2011



She wore a petticoat. What a nice little petticoat. I enjoyed her body in a petticoat.
I can see it – it’s a sigil, it’s marked upon the wall.
“Can you tell me what it means?” I inquired.
Minds are molding.
“I’m afraid I cannot,” he says.
I’m disappointed. I can see an old stuffed cat, made of old floral fabrics and black yarn. It made me feel nice and warm – comforted inside my melancholy feeling. And now I felt oblivious. I felt oblivious to most things. I could fly up in the sky, through the clouds and with the birds. I could do that.
She took a long drag on her cigarette and gazed up at me with green eyes. She had green eyes!
“He’s not paying attention to you,” her voice muttered. Her words echoed and vibrated, I gained a nasty headache.
My mind focused on her eyes, I fell deep inside the pools of mossy-green. I think I smiled slightly, wrapped up in my quilt. I quite liked quilts.
Her lips began to move again, her eyes fixated on me. I couldn’t hear a word she said. I could hear a tune from a little music box playing in my head; it resonated inside my brain with its tinkering tintinnabulation.
Light flickered upon her pale face. It danced in the midst of her eyes.
“Jimmy! Pay attention.”
My mind stopped and my body flinched. I blinked myself back to reality. Her eyes still rested on me. I glanced to my left at David.
He had frightening eyes.
“I asked you a question five times, you didn’t answer.” David said firmly.
“I apologise,” I whimpered, “I really do!”
“Don’t apologise, you don’t mean it.” David spat.
“David,” her eyes flicked over to him, “Stop giving him a hard time. He’s going through difficulty right now. I can tell.”
David’s gaze softened slightly. I shuffled around on the floor and shivered, tightening my quilt around my body.
“Now Jimmy,” David’s scholarly voice filled the room once more, “Explain to me the methods you use to convey your thoughts in your…”
David’s voice melted into a tune, another music box tune! It trickled into the room, each clang sounded like a raindrop. Before I could get a hold of myself it rained – no, it poured a song. It poured a song!
I felt like dancing into the churning wonders of this fairy-tale land where the tune led me.
Suddenly everything ceased as a soft hand touched my shoulder. The psychedelic scene drizzled into the picture of the room I sat in. David’s harsh eyes stared at me. I looked to my right. It was her hand on my shoulder. Her eyes gazed into mine. She smirked. O and how wonderful, she sat by me now. She sat by me smirking with her pink lips and mossy-green eyes and delicate hand on my shoulder, upon the blankets that I tossed on to the ground and the middle-eastern looking pillows I threw about the floor.
“Stop distracting him, Maisie.” David snapped.
“I’m not distracting him,” she snipped, “He’s distracting himself. His mind can’t fixate itself on whatever you may be talking to him about, it wanders. You wouldn’t understand that.”
“Of course,” David rolled his eyes, “You say that I don’t understand loads of things. Why don’t you do us all a favour and fix up a pot of tea or something.”
“I’m not a maid,” Maisie retorted, “I’m staying in here. You don’t know what you’re doing.”
Whilst they argued (as they did most of the time) I hummed my tune. I tried to return to the fairy-tale land but with their arguing, I couldn’t concentrate.
“Shut your mouths,” I mumbled, closing my eyes.
They stopped.
“Excuse me?” David’s voice sounded irritated.
“He’s trying to return from whence he came whenever you asked that question.”
“Shut up, Maisie.”
“Kitty, kitty, kitty…” I called, “Where is that kitty?”
“What on earth is he talking about?”
“Hush up, David!”
Alas everything disappeared. I opened my eyes. Maisie gazed at me wondrously while David did so harshly.
I tried not to pay attention to David’s awful stare. I shifted my gaze to Maisie once more. O, how I longed to hold her in my arms and run my fingers through her long and silky brown hair.
“Perhaps we’ll stop for today,” David grumbled, getting out of his chair, “It’s no use. I can’t understand him.”
“I know that,” Maisie muttered brusquely.
“Hush,” David spat, “If you seem to know him so well, why don’t you tell me what’s going on in his mind?”
Maisie shrugged, “If I tried to tell you, you still wouldn’t understand. Your mind is full of homicide.”
“My mind is full of homicide? Look at Jimmy! He’s already killed two men, you think my mind is full of homicide?!”
“It wasn’t Jimmy’s fault,” Maisie pointed out, “He didn’t know what he was doing.”
“That’s the only reason I found interest in him. I thought he was just a sociopath.”
“He’s not.”
“Then what is he, hm?”
“How do you expect me to know, David? I just understand him more than you do! It doesn’t mean I can diagnose him!”
David rolled his eyes. “I’m going to my quarters now, if you two don’t mind.”
“We certainly don’t mind,” Maisie spat as David avoided her remarks. He made his way upstairs.
Maisie sighed. “Ah, Jimmy…” she whispered.
“Starlight, moonlight, it’s not the same.” I said. For whatever reason that made me feel chilly and then it made me feel melancholy. Tears came to my eyes and soon enough I burst out crying. “Maisie, they’re not the same…they’re not the same….” I whimpered.
Maisie gathered me into an embrace. I cried into her shoulder.
“Hush,” she murmured, “Everything will be all right. I promise you that.”
“No, no, no, no…” I cried, “It will not! I can’t…I can’t…moon…will you bring me my moon?”
Maisie rubbed my back. “Most people want the moon,” she explained, “That’s why it’s in the sky, I think – so that we can all gaze upon it.”
I let go of her, gathering myself again. “I c-can’t, I c-can’t, I wish the grass wouldn’t die. I wish trees wouldn’t die…” as I went on it made me sadder and I continued crying. I heard crickets, I heard little children singing in my head.
“Get some sleep, darling,” Maisie suggested, “Tomorrow will be another nice day, and we’ll lie in the grass and eat huckleberries.”
“Will we?” I asked hopefully.
“I’ll make sure of it,” Maisie beamed, “And I’ll make sure David doesn’t get in the way. You know how he is.”
I smiled. I smiled! She made me feel warm.
“Well,” she took in a deep breath, “I’m going to be off to my bed, now. Sleep well.” At that she kissed my forehead and left for her quarters. I remained in the middle of the room. I buried myself under my quilts and rested my head on my pillows.
I couldn’t sleep. And so I opened the window and stared at the moon, pallid in the charcoal sky. I sang a song to the moon. I really did. I hope she liked my song.
And in its brilliance my moon lulled me to sleep. The moon is a nice fellow.

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