Deanna+W

I have words. haiiiiiii.

This is only a part from my short story, the end of it, basically. It might sound a bit cliche, but you know.

I need to write something beautiful. But I can't find anything to write about. There's so much I could say. I have nothing to say. I have nothing to express. There is nothing wrong. The most powerful emotion is sorrow and I don't have it anymore. I'm happy. But the sad is still there. All the time. And it comes. And it goes. What am I? I am whole. And I am complete. I found someone. You think you're never going to, you don't deserve anyone who breathes. Everyone thinks that. Human instinct. We are alone until we find somebody. And I found somebody. I'm not better than anyone else. I'm not above any other person. I am normal. I was lucky. I found someone. You'll never find it, if you're looking for it. I wasn't looking. Corrupted. I found somebody. As well as I saved him. Who would have thought I could do that? That I would ever be worth enough to a person. I didn't try. I found love. Or it found me. Either way, I think I have it. Or something like it. I didn't know what it was. Maybe I still don't. I didn't believe in it, let alone could I have it. That was for the people who mattered. I didn't matter. Self esteem is strange. You think highly about yourself, and yet you hate yourself. I mattered. To everyone else. Except those who were important o me. At least I believed so. I doubt I make sense. I didn't matter to myself. I would have destroyed myself. I would have. That's not beautiful. I found beauty. Everywhere. I found it in a person. I found it in a relationship. I found it in me. I found myself in someone else. I look at him and I see me. I see in him what I hoped everyone else would see in me. He cares. He always does. That's what I've always needed. I saved him. I wouldn't have cared if he was anyone else. What he did. I wouldn't have. I would have been like oh that's cool, you're just like everyone else. But he's him. And I care. This is what everyone looks for. This is what everyone wants. It's what I wnated. And I have it. I have it. I have it. I never would have thought I would have meant so much to someone. He makes me whole. I've never been this way in my entire life. Never. I've never felt so important. So wanted. This is beautiful. I am saved. I am saved. I'm not alone anymore. I found someone.

Kryptonite? Possibly If you were good at drawing, I'd ask you for a portrait of me. Draw me the way you see me, I would say the words but I hold back, afraid of what might be created from your hand holding the pencil. I'd prefer to be everything you'd want, what you look for, I'd be the exact match. Like in those love stories, I would glow.

If I were good at singing, I'd sing you a song, And you wouldn't listen. But it would be the melody stuck in the back of your head that you hum to yourself when you roam the earth in that way you walk. You'd prefer to be everything I hate. When you see me glance at you, you cringe. I am poison. Like in those horror movies,

I'd be first dead.


 * I Caught Fire**

Deanna Williams Mr. Halaw Creative Writing 2B

My life was perfect. I was marrying the girl of my dreams, Casey Williams. God, she was beautiful. We started dating in high school and have been in love ever since. She was the only person I ever truly loved. I remember, when I was fifteen I looked into her hazel eyes and told her I was going to marry her. She said it was the most beautiful thing someone had ever said to her. And here I was, on our wedding day, happier than ever. I was extremely nervous, as well, but just the thought of her overwhelmed me with joy. My best man was my brother, Justin, and my groomsmen were my other two brothers, Mike and Thomas, and Casey's brother, Lucas. I loved the four of them dearly, but they were nothing like me. They were the stereotypical pussy-crazy men, but I was nothing like that. Casey always said she loved that about me. "I can't believe you're getting married," Justin said. "Yeah. One vagina for the rest of your life," Mike laughed. I remained quiet but had a smile on my face. They can't get to me anymore, especially on this day. "He's been with Casey since he was like, fifteen, guys," Lucas told them. "I guess the same vagina doesn't get boring to him," Thomas said. I let out a laugh. "I love you guys." We all had a group hug and made our way down to the limo. It had always been a dream of Casey's to get married on the beach, and I'm making that dream a reality for her. I love her so much, nobody could understand, not even God Himself. When I walked down the aisle, I was in my own world. All I thought about was her. I stood on the alter and waited for the bride to arrive. Finally, I saw her. Oh God she was beautiful. I felt my heart melt as a stared at my bride walking down the aisle. Then, something happened that changed my life drastically. I suddenly heard sirens in the distance, then gunshots filled the air. Everyone screamed and ducked for cover. It then fell silent. I looked around and saw her lying on the ground. "Oh God, no!" I shouted. I ran to her. She was gone, struck through the head by a bullet. Ten years of love, gone in less than ten seconds. I remembered the first time I saw her. The first time I kissed her. The first time we made love, and when I proposed to her. Those were nothing but memories. Gone. Gone like the wind. I began to cry, I cried my heart out, I could barely breathe. People could do nothing but watch as I held my lifeless love in my arms. I couldn't take it. I ran, I ran. And ran. I was just as dead as my bride. I found myself standing outside a motel, my tux muddy. I wasn't going home tonight. She was there. I go in and rent a room. The image of her lying in my arms, so dead, was burned in my memory. I laid on my back, staring at the ceiling, wishing to God I could stop remembering. Stop breathing. Months went by. May, June, July, all the way through to December. It wasn't even cold. I felt nothing. I ended up losing contact with everone. My brothers, Casey's family. They had all tried calling me, getting in touch with me, but in the end I threw my cell phone over a bridge. I wanted nobody. I had had enough. I wanted out of this life. For the past couple of months I have mainly just been walking, driving around. Came home a couple times, spent my nights there crying. I found myself back at the motel I stayed at on my wedding day. I stumbled in, drunk with tears pouring down my face. The old lady who worked at the check-in counter asked me if I wanted a rom. "You look like you need a good night's rest, dear," she pointed out, smiling. "Yeah," I mumbled, "I need a good lifetime's rest." She eyeballed me, but I was too wasted to care. I took the key she handed me and I went to my room. I took the gun out of the inside breast pocket and tossed it on the bed. I stared at it a good long while. I think this was the room I stayed in, that first night. An uninvited memory came alive. Casey and I, when we were all young. Fifteen. She was just as beautiful then as she was now. We were sitting on her sister's bed, and I looked away from her for a minute because she told me to. She kissed my cheek when I turned my face. I involuntarily touched where her lips had pressed against my cheek, so many years ago. Remembering. And then I saw her body, sprawled across the aisle she had just been walking down. Her dress that was once white, now splattered with red. I was sick of the pain. I took the gun and shoved the muzzle in my mouth. I had nothing to live for. I opened my eyes and right before I squeezed the trigger I swear I saw her standing there, screaming "No." It was burning. Everything. Everyone. It wasn't hot. I opened my eyes and I was on the bed, in the motel. I didn't see the gun. I felt my head and everything was intact, my head wasn't hanging by a thread from my throat. I sat up. I felt fine. I'm confused. I thought I was gonna be dead. I wanted to be dead. I got up off the bed and looked out the window. But there wasn't a gravelly parking lot, instead there was just black. I couldn't see a thing. I opened the door and walked into the black. There was a light ahead, so I followed it. As I walked, I looked behind me. I couldn't see the motel anymore. There was nowhere else but forward. I walked for what felt like forever. I felt pretty good, I didn't feel as dead inside anymore. I just felt empty. Finally I made it to the light, after a couple hours (it felt like that, anyway). There was a nice looking armchair in the center of the light. It wasn't facing me. "Hello, Matt." The voice seemed to come out of nowhere, echoing everywhere in the light. I didn't have to look around; I knew the voice was coming from the armchair. It spun around, in it was sitting a very suave looking man, with salt-and-pepper hair and a goatee. "Hi," I said. I felt drunk. "Do you know where you are?" he asked me. I couldn't look in his eyes. "Yes." "Do you know why you're here?" "I killed myself. I'm dead, right?" "Yes. You're dead." "Where's Casey?" "Somewhere else. You can't see her." He smiled. His teeth were sharp. I knew who he was. "Is there a way I could see her? That's all I want," I pleaded. I needed her. He grinned. Those teeth were scary. He stood up and walked toward me. He shook my hand. "You can call me Lucifer," he said, still grinning. I felt my heart drop to my feet. His touch burned. "And there's one thing you can do to see Casey. Shit, there's even a way to bring you and her back to life. You can live the life you were supposed to live, before she was shot." "Name it, I'll do it," I told him, determined. I had to have her back. "That man, that man who killed your fiance. You could have your vengeance on him." He walked back to the armchair, sat back down. I felt a knife in my hand, that was not there before. "Go." I felt like I was being squeezed, all the air was being taken from me. I could hear his laugh fading away as everything turned black. I was being compressed between two slabs of concrete. I was running out of air. How could I die again? I found myself in an empty room. I fell to the ground and sucked in all the oxygen I possibly could. The blade was still in my hand. When my lungs felt normal again, I looked around. There was one window, with curtains flowing around. The window was open. There was a door. The floor was bare, as were the walls and the ceiling. There was a chair next to the window. I walked to the window and looked out. I was in a skyscraper. In Jamaica, it seemed. Casey and I were supposed to get married on a beach near here. I knew where I was. Voices were getting louder. I had nowhere to hide, the place was too empty. The door opened. In came a man about my age. He stopped when he saw me. "Who are you?" he asked. "And why the fuck are you in here?" The first thing I did was yank out evey last one of his teeth. His mouth was a bloody mess. He screamed like a little bitch. "How does it feel!" I screamed. I got tired of hearing him scream. I pulled out my blade and sliced his tongue out. I watched as it squirmed on the floor. "Pretty cool," I thought to myself. I cut his fingers and toes off one by one as slowly as I possibly could. "You think that hurts, you haven't felt half the pain you put me through yet!" I got tired of looking into his black eyes. I jammed my fingers into his sockets and pulled them out, blood was everywhere. It was worse than a gore movie. I ripped open his fat stomach and pulled out all his organs. It was funny to see his heart still pumping. I beat him with his intestines until it tore. I saw there was an axe suddenly hanging on the wall. "I can have fun with this," I giggled. I haven't laughed in so long, God, it felt good. I slammed the axe down on his neck. Blood squirted all over my face and I licked my lips. Revenge does indeed taste sweet. I removed his arms and his legs. He looked like a puzzle. I picked up his head and looked at the mess I created. I almost smiled as much as when Casey would tell me she loved me. I threw it the floor with all my might and watched as it blew up. I spread his body parts all threw out the room. I wrote in his blood, // he deserved it //. The police will have fun solving this one. I admired what I had done and left. I walked to where Casey was buried. I stood over her grave and screamed into the sky, "GIVE HER BACK TO ME, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" I sat next to her and waited for him to come. Even though I didn't know if he was coming. The sun was beginning to go down. "Nice job, Mr. Wilson," he said from behind me. "It was artwork." "Give her back to me." I wasn't playing games anymore. "One more thing." "What?" I asked, looking up at him. I was about to cry. I didn't feel bad for what I did. I was still bloody. "Dig her up." I didn't want to. I didn't want to see what she looked like. Months and months of rotting in a casket would not have left her pretty. I don't want to see her beautiful face as mutilated as it would be. But I couldn't deny him. I wanted her back, so badly. I would do anything, and I had already proved that. I took the shovel he handed me and began to dig. He watched me as I slaved, until the moon was right above us. I got to the casket. "Open it," he suggested, chuckling. I opened it. She was there, rotted, mostly bones. She was still in her wedding dress, although it was now tattered. There were maggots and worms crawling all over her. It made me angry, she didn't deserve to be in here. I had wanted her cremated but everyone else wanted her buried, so I had been outvoted. "Bring her back. Bring her back," I started to repeat over and over again, crying. I looked behind me. He wasn't there. Anger bubbled in my veins and my face got hot. I looked down again at my deceased bride. She was looking back at me. The maggots were gone, the worms were gone, she was healing. Her skin was growing over her bones. "Long time no see," she smiled. I felt so much joy fill my body as I looked into her life filled eyes. I never thought I would hold her again, but here I was with my one true love in my arms. I said nothing, I just leaned in and kissed her. I felt life flow through my body again. It felt as if my heart hasn't beat since I've seen her. I pulled her out the grave. She asked no questions, almost as if she knew what has happened. I grabbed her hand. "Ready for our honeymoon?" I asked, smiling. She looked into my eyes. "Can i take a shower first"? We walked off into the night with nothing but love in our hearts. We went back to the house I had abandoned back in April. It didn't look much different, besides all the dust. We spent the rest of the day doing what we had missed out on since she died. I was so happy, she didn't understand. She told me about Heaven. "It was worse than here. I wasn't with you," she told me. "I missed you. All I did was sit around and wait for you." I told her my story of what had happened on our wedding day. She cried. She wasn't proud of me killing that man. I guess that's what I always loved about her. She saw good in everyone, even someone that had killed her. A month went by of peace. She went to visit her family. I stayed behind. I felt guilty, like it had been my fault she had died in the first place. She begged me to come with her, but I couldn't. I physically couldn't. We got back in contact with my brothers, as well. They didn't know what the hell had happened to me, so they had actually had a funeral for me, without my body. They had thought I was dead. I couldn't blame them. I was dead, really. It was a regular, quiet Wednesday night. We're sitting, watching an old movie (Madagascar 2 - Escape to Africa). We were like little kids, giggling and holding each other. Something smashed upstairs. Burglar? We didn't know. I went to investigate. In our room, sitting on the chair next to the window, was Lucifer. "Young love. I never did understand it. Never had the time to experiment with it, you know?" he said thoughtfully, picking at a cuticle. "I never did thank you," I stuttered. I never would have thought I would be thanking the devil. "And neither I you," he replied. "You didn't think I was bringing her back to life out of the goodness of my heart, did you?" He grinned. Those teeth were sharp. "Well--I--" I didn't know what to say. "Mr. Wilson, I let her come back because there's something of yours that I want," he explained, standing up. He got out of the chair and walked to me. He was taller than me. He tapped my chest. It burned. I looked down. Where he had touched me had singed my shirt. "Your soul, Mr. Wilson." I look at him. There was no way out of doing this. "What happens to me?" I asked, finally. "Nothing. Right now, anyway. You live your life the way you do now. Just know I can always come for you, whenever I please. You are not to tell your wife of this. You are to keep it a secret, one you will die to protect. If you let slip, well...you don't want to know what will happen." He bared his teeth in that grin of his that never seemed to go away. "Um...alright," I said. I blinked, and he was gone. I go downstairs and Casey looks up at me. "What was it?" she asked absentmindedly. "Oh...nothing. A lamp fell, is all," I told her. I hated lying to her, but I wasn't going to lose her right after I had just gotten her back. She smiled and I sat down next to her. She was so cute, giggling occasionally. I would, too, quickly forgetting about what had happened upstairs. This was the first movie her and I had saw alone, about two weeks onto our relationship. It had been the epicenter of many jokes and one of the first things we bonded over. Did I tell you I love her? Months went by of peace. Everything was great. It was as if nothing had ever happened. Pretty soon it was the year anniversary of Casey's shooting, and our original wedding. It really hit her hard. The whole day she remained quiet and as the sun was going down she said to me, "Take me to my grave." I didn't particularly want to, but I brought her. We stood in front of where four months ago, she had been buried. I glanced at her after about ten minutes. Her face was white and I think she was crying. I gathered her in my arms and she buried her face in my chest. The sun went down, and we stayed there for longer than I had imagined I could stand still for. She took my hand and led me to the car. We got in silently, drove home silently. Seeing her grace had done something to Casey, and I couldn't really bear it. She went upstairs the moment we got home. At the top of the stairs, she turned around and looked down at me. She smiled. "I love you," she said, and turned back and walked into our room. I sat down on the couch and turned on the news. Something about multiple murders and one of the suspects was a very suave looking man, with salt-and-pepper hair and a goatee. I knew that man. I hadn't heard or seen him in a while, it was as if he had fallen of the face of the earth. And here he was, a suspect of the killing of five people. Once again I found myself wondering whenhe's going to come and find me.I didn't want to leave Casey, but I was afraid he would come to me before I was ready. I sure as hell wasn't ready. Sure, it had been a couple of months since I had gotten her back, but months did not make up the ten yeras we had spent together, since I was a sophomore and she was a freshman in high school. "You like that? See, people don't even know me and I'm famous." Lucifer appeared on the armchair opposite of me. He was smiling. Those teeth were sharp. I didn't say anything. "It's been four months since you dug her up. That grave is still empty, and someone's got to fill it," he continued, picking at his nails. "What are you trying to say?" I asked nonchalantly, as if I wasn't scared. "I can smell your fear. Don't worry, nothing's going to happen to you. Yet. "Let me warn you. In almost two years, I will come, and you will be mine. You will grow old with Casey, but you will not go to Heaven..." his voice trailed off for a second, as if the word had affected his vocal cords, or something. "You will not go to Heaven with her, like you had promised. Instead, you'll be coming with me." He grinned. "Can I get out of it?" "You sold your soul to me. There's no way out of it," he replied, smirking. "I never agreed to that!" I cried, forgetting Casey was upstairs. Lucifer's teeth flashed--they were bared in a grimace. It was ugly. "You agreed to it when you agreed to my suggestion that I gave you in the...dark." "What if I refuse?" "You and I had an unspoken agreement. I would bring her back to you, if you were to seek your revenge. But of course, killing someone is a sin." He chuckled. "Why didn't you explain any of this to me?" Of course, I wouldn't have done anything different. I wouldn't have left her to rot in Hell. "You already knew." He disappeared. I wasn’t planning on sleeping for a long time after that.