i've lost much gained little

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fan Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
a quick write i did in about 2 hours total
love pain shock but mostly odd

Submitted: May 27, 2010

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Submitted: May 27, 2010

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It’s dark in this room, not completely, but it’s slightly illuminated by a street-light across the street. I can see the faint out lines of my dresser the dim tint of my walls the closet door and next to the window the night stand that belongs to the big bed next to it. On the bed the sheets wrinkled with the activities of last night. And hidden beneath the sheets the woman, whose name I did not know, stirred and moaned with what I thought was a pleasant dream.
 
I think back to last nights’ activities and sigh, not dissatisfied but, in disapproval at myself. How could I, the average Joe, who was happily married and had three young, beautiful, daughters, have done such an act of indecency, weakness, and of…? I don’t how else to describe this, but as, the worst sin a man could commit.
 
How could I do this to my daughters? Anna, my eldest, turned ten last week, and not much earlier, had won the gymnastics tournament. Charlota, second born but she’s not second in my heart, with her talent for acting she could fool anyone. And Amanda, our three year old, starts school next year but can already write and spell like a pro author.
 
Then there’s my wife, the most talented, beautiful, and intelligent woman there ever was. I think the only mistake she made was marrying a fool like me. For I have betrayed our vows and her judgment, by doing this horrible, horri…
 
My thoughts and torn from my mind by the stirring of the woman in my bed. And it is then that I the idea came to my mind. That should either of us ‘disappear’ the problem would disappear with them, and then decide that since she has done no sin to me or family that I must ‘disappear’.
 
I get dressed, and leave my room, my house and drive away, hoping that a day that I will need to see my family, again, would never come.
O, Ye who hath to ask of me
Are doomed to wonder in the truth
For he who doth not as need not wonder
For they are doomed to squander lies
As I gaze unto her eyes
I grasp the truth of her
She is not the caged bird
I thought she was
She was a free tigress
Wandering the jungle
Her heart neither cold
Nor dead like water
Was hot and alive
Like a young flame
I now wonder
If she was controlling me
Rather than I her
I storm into my bed chamber, slamming the door. I go to lie down on my bed and realize another person lie in it as well. Shooting up I shout “Who are you that lays in my bed, and why are you in my bed chamber?” The person rose into a sitting position, and I grasp that this is a young lady, scarcely 15, in the same instant I see that she is wearing nothing upon her top and, to my assumption, nothing on her bottom.
 
Moving closer I say “Well since a young woman has been so nice as to enter my bed unafraid I shall partake of you.”
 
She opens her arms warmly, inviting me in and so I enter my bed with her. Then feeling the cool steely dagger slip between my ribs, I realize my mistake. Too late to do anything about it, I die in the hands of my killer.
 
Just before I die, I hear the answer to my questions “I am Rosanne, and I am here to kill you.”
 
 
Looking from my window, of my castle, I see the rolling hills in the light of the setting sun and am drawn closer by the farms, and the village, that lay upon my lands. I gaze at the village, bright with cheer that the village centre has been made beautiful by the stunning fountain in the center.
\\The fountain, three times wide as a man is tall and twice that same height poured water from four spouts, to the likeness of a beast, faced each direction, north, east, west, and south, poured in to a basin half the height of a man in depth and width. All along the side’s surface are picture depicting the stories of the land. And atop the fountain were three statues of woman, draped in a long flowing robe that looked as if made of silk.
 
The three women also told a story, but not one of legend. Not of how men have done battle, or how fierce their lord is. No it is the never told tale of womanhood, of how each young girl will grow in to their own type of beauty. For although not the same each time the three are really the one at different times of her life.
 
First, there is the youngest looking; cute and just stepping away from the buffer of her parents, is seen as only 15. Her hair a short length barely past her neck frames a face of joy and happiness as she holds a large tome with ‘life of women’ engraved on the spine, the book open at just the beginning, shows that her life is just starting.
 
The second appears to be a woman in her early twenties, tenderly caring for a stone plant with a look of pure admiration and love that can only be compared to how a mother look’s her own child. Although clearly older then the first still holds the same looks, but with a more mature feeling. She has clearly become more beautiful and enchanting, that nary a man can resist a look at the statue.
 
Finally the last statue is of a woman of untold years, just as beautiful as the others holds nary a thing, but seems to shout and call all to her, so she may teach others of her life. Of how to care for a child, to treat the sick, or what one should value most. All the women of the village look to her in admiration hoping to be like her
 
Although we all know that they are only statues, they teach us many things. Although the fountain and statues may crumble they will always exist. For they are the towns past, present, and future, existing as one through three.
 
As the hill comes into view, silhouetted against the full moon, it seemed to loom above us casting a shadow foreboding doom. I shiver from both the chilled night, and the scene we will soon see.
Opening my eye’s I see the shape of a person silhouetted against a bright light. Argh, My senses are totally out of whack. I hear shouting but it seems from muffled. My eye’s aren’t properly adjusting to the light and are very blurry. My back is a fire with pins, my arm stings a little, and my leg is very light.
 
Whoa, my senses just boom, and now every thing is clear, pain is shooting up my arm and leg, I can hear the shouting loud and clear, although I still can’t under0stand it. Ugh, I can taste a metallic tang in my mouth. And I see clearly, the person standing above me is a woman, clearly beautiful, even behind the crying face, it’s framed by wavy golden red hair, and with the light behind her is making it look afire.
Just seeing her face is allowing me to understand her incoherent words. She’s screeching to me, to not die, to live and be with her.
I’ve finally found my voice, but it’s not the one I want. This one is a screaming voice, rather than the reassuring voice I want to use.Again my senses go numb, and I’m thrust in to a empty universe. And I too am going, drifting, and becoming… nothing.
A sudden jolt wakes my mind from the empty universe, and into a room. The room is made of metal, a perfect square, and very bare. The room, I observe, has only a toilet, a shower, a table, and a bed very much out of place.
The bed is made of an old wood and has left scrapes on the floor while the other things appear to grow from the floor and wall.


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