Book of Secrets

The pages flapped angrily in her face, exploding from the book in hurricanes and circling hastily where she stood. Yet she still couldn’t read the book. The words danced and squirmed across the parchment pages, hiding from her desperate eyes. The papers flapped at her hair, became caught in her dress before breaking free and circling her again, encasing her in some wild tornado of broken book. She flinched as another became caught in her long hair, and tugged to free itself from the tangle.It yanked itself free and flew off again, a thin stream of hair clung to the ripped page as it fluttered back into the air around her.

Clutching the book in one hand, she gently stroked her head where the hair had been yanked from. She winced again at the pain and the brought the book closer to her face, searching for some meaning in the jumbled words. The paper flapped angrily at her again, swooping in at her, trying to knock the book from her sturdy hands. She was not afraid, after all it was only paper.

The book was tightly pinned in between her fingers,yet a warmth seemed to spread through its pages, crawling up her fingertips and into her wrists and elbows. A gentle shudder ran through the book, and without warning it flung itself towards her, pressing itself upon her face. She stumbled backwards, fear replacing the bravery she had once felt. Her hands flew up to her face, clawing at the book, trying to prise it from her. Above her the papers gathered together in huddles, parchment crackling in what sounded like giggles and laughter at the girl’s misfortune. It was no use, the words surrounded her eyeballs, and finally she understood the true meaning of the book.

This week’s Picture it and Write

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Kreative Blogger Awards

My very good blogger friend Tanitha Smith has just awarded me for the Kreative blogger award! Many thanks to Tan and her epic blog, and as tradition I must nominate others and reveal some truly random facts about myself….

 

I currently have tonnes of friends with blogs, and so many that I follow which I love. But the blogs I will nominate are as followed:

1). Hanni Frieda’s Blog– Nominated for the absolutely wonderful photography, that is completely one of a kind. Her Blog is in it’s early days, yet I think it gets better and better. Not to forget her love of Sherlock, which has inspired many Sherlock revolving posts that you can’t help but love.

2).Helen Shroom’s Blog – Great Photos, stories and opinionated posts, with Muse weaved into the Blog. Plenty of pages and things to do like “The monthly Question” which can be answered by anyone.

3). The Mind of Tanitha – Wonderful stories that transfer you to new Universes, and not to forget her lovely encouraging comments on my Blog and other’s. Full to the brim with stories and poems that  inspire everyone who stops by.

4). Ermilia’s Blog– Combined writings of two equally awesome bloggers who do tonnes of book reviews and other posts. They do incredible Picture it and Write posts that are great for those wanting to improve writing or just wanting to have so creative fun. They are incredibly dedicated to their readers and never fail to reply with epic comments.

5). South African Nutter– A wonderfully creative Blog, which is great for anyone to read and enjoy. Funny, great poems, thoughtful, and most of all so individual. A Blog that is truly worth visiting.

Some Random facts about Me:

1). I love cats, I think they are ridiculously adorable and one day I shall have many living around me. I have one cat at the moment and I adore her.

2). I love photography and music.

3). I envy many characters in books, for example Wizards, Demigods, Timelords and many other people with magical powers. How come they get magical powers? I also wish that I was a character in Lord of the Rings.

4).I can sometimes become addicted to cheesy american sitcoms like Scrubs, The Big Bang Theory and Friends.

5). I spend half my life Daydreaming.

The Eternal Runner

She ran through the dark forest, clutching her last hope, her only hope. Running on through the dark lands, never stopping, always running from those who tormented her. Her cloak trailed after her, rippling in the wind, occasionally flashing shades of red at the forest. Her blonde hair danced about her head that revealed every bit of worry for what she was running from. She didn’t feel out of breath, she never would, this was her everlasting punishment.

The tiny cat clutched to her chest mewed hopefully, thoughts of fish and warm fires slipped through its mind. Glancing down at the kitten she raised it quickly to kiss its fury head before looking at the floor below, strewn with leaves and sticks from the forest. Brambles and twigs clawed and tore at her bare feet that ran effortlessly across the endless ground, but she barely noticed and shook then off her ankles as she ran.

The shadows lengthened and elongated as the day wore, into the evening as the darkness shrouded the forest in a dark blanket. Her eyes felt weary, yet sleep was impossible and still her body did not tire from the running. Darkness lay at the tree trunks and curled into the sunken  floor. Her eyes flitted from side to side, not afraid, but wary of what may be around at this time of night. Her pace quickened as she slipped into the dark night, cloak fluttering, kitten still held firmly to her chest. With one last glance behind her, she dissolved into the darkness.

Picture  it and Write

Photography by Brooke Shaden 

Swallowed in the Sea

Hello all, terribly sorry about the hold up of a new post. Recently life has been rather busy, especially the horrors of  exams and the awesomeness that is my new laptop. However, all my files and pictures are currently trapped inside the other computer so it has been difficult to post. So I figure I shall leave you all with at least one story, so here it is:

The water swallowed me. Encased my flailing body in a slippery bubble of seawater, salt leaking into my squeezed shut eyes.  I was swirled round, thrashing. contorting, balancing in the empowered palm of the ocean. Tendrils of water wrapped around my ankles before slipping reluctantly of my water resistant skin

I wanted to scream, yell, curse at the vast waters. How could I be so foolish?  But most of all fear immersed my brain, poisoning it with images of pale corpses floating on the ocean floor. Lost, never to be discovered.

The water finally tossed me up into the air one last time, flinging my legs up, forcing  by back to arch and curve.  For one brief moment felt happy, free. But gravity grabbed me tightly and down, down, down I fell.

Swallowed in the sea.

Underwater Photography

Apple Cricket

Smack. The apple exploded as it smashed into the cricket bat, showering me with sweet smelling gunk and ribbons of apple pulp that clung to my once clean dress.

“Haha, another point for me I guess!” Ivor cried, laughing and throwing his hands in the air. He didn’t notice my filthy dress that was covered in fruit or my face, mouth turned down in a grimace as I thought ahead to the punishment I would face for the dirty clothes. I shivered in the cold air, as the setting sun peeked through the orchard for the last time that day, taking with it the warm air of the daytime and replacing it with cool evening breeze.

“Your turn, your turn!” Ivor demanded, my inability to ever hit the object being thrown never failed to amuse him. This time I decided, would be different. I would smash that apple with all my might, showering him with the slimy apple. That would wipe that smirk of his face. I gathered my skirts and thundered forward. He raised his eyebrows.

I picked up the bat in my sticky fingers and clutched it as letting it go would be disastrous. He grinned and prepared to throw the apple. I tightened my grip. But at the last second he flicked his wrist, causing the apple to shoot forward at an odd angle. I brought the bat around with an almighty force, waiting for the impact of the apple to shatter like soft glass on the bat. Instead, I was greeted by a swooping of air. I had missed, again.  The bat continued on slicing through the air and whacked into the apple tree. The force rippled up my arms and into my shoulder blades, and I toppled over in shock, curled up in a heap on the dusty ground.

Ivor exploded into laughter, hair flopping over his eyes that gleamed with childishness. My cheeks flushed red with the embarrassment of humiliating my self. Again. But then sheer fury chased away the blood in my veins, replacing irritation  with anger. I stood up, brushed the dirt of my once pristine dress and looked him straight in his glistening eyes.

“You spoilt, pretentious brat!” I yelled, not caring if the other maids could hear, ” I’m ever so glad you’re enjoying me humiliating myself, but it would be wondrous if you could throw me the odd helping hand once in a while!”

I stormed off, not caring about the look of shock that crossed his face just after the outburst. My ankles wobbled as my boots sank into rotting apples. The sun had now set and the orchard was  filled with a sharp coldness and basked in the dull blue of the night. I heard footsteps behind me, and turned sharply to see Ivor running towards me, a look of concern painted on his perfect face. I swished my head around and continued onwards, ignoring his presence.

“Look, I’m sorry, I just…you know, thought it was funny.” I can still hear the hint of humor lurking behind the words that tumbled form his mouth. I continued onwards.

“I’m sorry.” He sounded serious now and hooked his little finger round mine, something we used to do when we were kids. I come to an abrupt stop and turned on my heals. Tilting me head, I raised my eyebrows at his finger. He slipped it out of my hand and hung his head in shame.

“Is that all? I mean, forget all those times when I’ve been caught playing with you out in the orchard, gotten my dress dirty and been punished for it. Forget that we are not even supposed to be here in the first place!” I hissed at him, eyes burning with a look of acidic fury.

“Well…you’ve never told me about these things. Why didn’t you say?” He mumbled, grasping at excuses.

“Like you would care.” And I began running back towards the huge house, no longer caring about tripping or getting my dress dirty. I stumbled up to my tiny servant’s  room and perched on the window sill, preparing to settle down with a good book. But I made the mistake of looking up and seeing him at the far end of the orchard, crossing over the hedge and into the field. His  boots were dirty and his shoulders  hunched in the cold.

I bit my lip and wondered if I had done the right thing.

The Fearful Twins

They walked arm in arm down the narrow corridors, mirroring each other’s steps with exact precision. Both were dressed identically in burgundy body suits with a gold stripe running vertically down each side; the compulsory uniform everyone had to wear. They looked almost exactly the same; and yet completely different. The first had white-blonde hair and electric blue eyes that looked as if they could zap someone with electricity just by glancing at them. The second had deep brown hair and crystal green eyes. Yet at the same time they both had ruler-straight hair and wore the same expression; smug and perfectly composed.

 

They radiated confidence as they walked down the centre on the corridor. People stared and whispered, but everyone parted, pressing themselves to the walls as they glided through. Whispers enveloped the building and rumours hovered in the air. Who were these two flawless girls? Rumour had it they had come via their own spacecraft from the planet Valticä, where the children were born of steaming waterfalls and walked the lands for eternity with their chosen partner. Others said they had been plucked from Taeramp, a planet adorned with constant lightning storms and endless ice fields. But the truth was, no-one knew. Even their names were a mystery.

But this was a school for the gifted, for those who had powers. Everyone sensed their powers were strong. You only needed to come into their presence to feel the power surrounding them, like fog. But no-one knew if the two students were dangerous, or not.

Walking in the Mountains

My bare feet brush through the coarse  grass, clicking up clouds of red dust. The mountain is just ahead of me now, protruding into the sky, its rock folded and adorned with creases and weather scars. The sky is a delicate blue with the sun smearing the land with light morning light. The morning is fresh and cold, spears of frost cling onto the vegetation and webs of ice sneak along the short grasses. My feet no longer feel the cold after weeks of walking in conditions much worse than this.

Every step I take towards the mountains seems to push it away from me, like an invisible force dragging the huge rock formation in the opposite direction, teasing me. My eyelids flicker and my feet stumble and trip over rocks in the soil. The slope is getting steeper, but I’m so close now, little more than a mile or two to go. The valley bellow is filled with a cool blue lake; smooth and un moving. Birds hop around the rocks, enjoying the morning sunlight and the prospect of fish from the lake. I can feel myself longing to drop down to the brilliant lake, but I know this is not my mission.

The slopes become steeper and I feel the altitude increase. My lungs crave more oxygen and my breathing becomes shallower. My ankles wobble precariously on the uneven ground, exhaustion is closing in on me. I don’t want to go any further. I take one last step, willing my self onward before tripping over a spiked rock. I tumble to the ground, limbs flailing in search of something to break the fall. I land with a thump, just missing the rock. The fall wasn’t bad and the ground is pleasant where the sun has warmed it.

I roll onto my back and let the sun swallow me whilst I  sink into the warm earth.

Two Parisian Gargolyes

The two stone Gargoyles stared gormlessly at the blazing red Horizon. Buildings and blinking lights smeared the view they  had high upon the Parisian Cathedral that scraped at the wisps of cloud. They perched precariously on the stone ledge, all devilish faces and spiked wings. Their eyes cold and empty, surveyed the world below, claws twitching and pulsating as they dug into the soft rock.

“Hehehe,” One cackled, “Look at all those tiny humans, intent on their own little world’s, how selfish!”

As it spoke fragments of weathered stone crumbled from the corners of its grey, carved stone mouth. The other- a slightly less extreme looking Gargoyle- turned its head with great difficulty and a crunching and grinding of stone. More powder and dust spiraled at danced off the ledge as it tumbled from the gargoyle’s eroding exterior.

“Yes, yes I do see!” It cackled gleefully “We should fling stones at their little heads, let them crush their brittle necks” The gargoyle’s eyes distended, as if shocked by their brilliant idea.Their terrifying faces cracked and strained to distort into terrifying grins, revealing stoney sharp fangs.

“Why yes, my dear! We should litter them with gravel and rocks! Yes, Yes!”  The other one cried, voice laced with insanity and a wild look in its limestone eyes.

“HeHe, Of course!”

They soon succumbed to fits of insane giggles, gravely and high pitched. The blood red sunset illuminated tiny pinpricks crystal set in their stoney bodies, like minuscule spots of blood. As the sun slipped below the horizon they became quieter, laughter subsiding into quiet snorts and giggles. The two judgmental gargoyles returned to their carved perches the architects had intended for them to remain in for all eternity.

The Eternal Spacecraft

She craned her head eagerly over the spaceship railings. The wind tumbled through her white blonde hair as the stars zoomed through the skies leaving trails of fire in their wake. The great spacecraft produced a gentle hum as it plundered onward through the vast universe. Her nightgown billowed and danced about her feet that  stretched upon tip-toes. The wind pricked her eyes causing tears to ripple out of the corner of her eyelids. Her cheeks were flushed and her hands clutched the rail. She closed her eyes and leaned into the breeze.

The spacecraft picked up speed, sending vibrations that gently rocked the ship’s exterior. The stars were little more than streaks of white, scratches of ice blemishing the dark sky. In the horizon galaxies quivered far off in the distance, huge pools of stars, littered with dust and ice shelves. The sky was vast and cold.

She opened her eyes reluctantly, the tears were no longer because of the wind. I wonder if anyone knows I’m here she thought, I wonder if anyone knows I exist? She raised her hands to her forehead, as if attempting to calm her thoughts. She then lowered her hands to clutch at  her spotless nightgown, twisting and looping the folds round her fingers. She was a mere speck of dust in comparison with the universe.

She stepped back from the railings, seeming to compose herself. Her palms fell slack from her nightgown and drifted to her sides. She sniffed and turned away from the universe and padded back to the empty ship. She was all alone on the great vessel.

Gandalf Vs Dumbledore

This very important question has been cropping up a lot in my life recently, and I believe it deserves an answer. As you probably know, Gandalf is the the Wizard from Lord of The Rings, and Dumbledore from the popular Harry potter series. They are both epic wizards, but who would win in an overall wizard war?

Competitor Number 1: Gandalf

Gandalf looking rather cool in his wizard hat.

Here is my list of why Gandalf is completely legendary.

1. He is a Wizard

2. He loves everyone, well maybe not the bad guys, but he gets on particually well with the Hobbits and treats everybody equally.

3. He comes back to life/ regenerates to become Gandalf the White. That is so cool, and in the process he gets a whole new wardrobe, from grey robes to white!

4.He fights the Balrog (Big fiery monster with the whip) and wins.

5.He has a horse called shadowfax.

6.His cart spits out fireworks when Hobbit children walk by.

7. His facial hair is just beautiful.

8.He can talk to moths- Somehow he contacted a moth and it brought back an eagle…just wow.

9. He fighting is awesome, he just whacks people with his Staff.

10. He has a very cool staff.

As you can see there are a whole lot of reasons to love Gandalf. Not only he is a really kind and rather lovely, but he does come in handy when it comes to saving the whole of Middle Earth. He very good when it comes to coping with bad situations, like Orc invasions or certain “Kings” trying to set their children on fire. Anyway, on to the Next Wizard.

Competitor Number 2: Dumbledore

Dumbledore and the Beanie Hat

Here’s a whole bunch of reasons why you can’t help but love Dumbledore.

1. He is a wizard

2. He has a brilliant beanie hat which he is rarely seen without.

3. He knows how to make an exit.

4. He owns Fawkes the pheonix which he can make that great exit with when it burst into flames.

5. He too has some awesome facial hair.

6. He has the burden of always knowing about what Harry truly is. He copes with it well.

7.He has a Deluminator that allows him to turn off muggle lights whenever he pleases.

8. He is very good at fighting with a wand.

9. He’s really nice in that Uncle-ish way (well I think anyway).

10. His office has the most Ultimate office you could ever want, filled with books and telescopes.

Dumbledore too is brilliant, one of the best Characters in the Harry Potter series, and a character that really develops throughout the books. He is so very wise and yet burdened with knowing so much.

So I guess it is a difficult descion who would win in an overall Wizarding war. They are both so genially good characters it is difficult to chose. They both have so many qualities, and are similar yet so different. I don’t think the war over Gandalf and Dumbledore will ever truly be over.


Revenge Tastes Best with Tea

I carefully handed her the ornate cup of steaming tea. She clutched the cup, and a tiny smile crept across her perfect lips. Her pale skin was slightly flushed from the heat of the steaming cup of tea as gentle swirls of  vapor curled about her chin. The tea, a once pale pink, had blossomed into a deep scarlet. How ironic I thought to myself…

Her apricot colored hair hung in ringlets, her eyes the precious blue of a newborn child. Her pale skin as delicate as fresh lilies. Too innocent, too young I thought to myself. How could anyone love you? She turned towards me, oblivious to my dark thoughts and smiled at me shyly in thanks. She took a tentative sip of the tea and let out a soothing sign. There would be no pain yet.

Minutes passed as she continued to sip the tea. With my head buried in the newspaper, the sound of china shattering on stone was the only giveaway. A look of utter surprise flitted across her face, and her mouth curved into a perfect “O” shape.  A slight hint of panic flashed through her eyes, before she fell, almost gracefully in a bundle on the floor. A slight chuckle escaped my lips as I  carefully avoided the deep red tea creeping across the stone tiles.