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Re: (Poem/Short Story Format) The Orchids

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Thor8 is not online. Thor8
Joined: 16 Dec 2008
Total Posts: 225
16 Sep 2012 10:01 AM
(This is a short story I wrote at school for a macabre-ranged format contest. Surprisingly enough, it won first place. Three things first: One, this is COMPLETELY fictional, it's just a symbolic story. Two, as a sub-message to the ROBLOX staff and moderators, I in no way condone violence on your game, once again, this is COMPLETELY fictional. And third, if you get a weak stomach reading about gore, please turn away.)

Those blue eyes never left me...

Of my memories, within the blue, almost heavenly vicinity of cold October, I can recall nothing but pain. I try to force the thoughts back into my head as a lesson to what always my life stands on the basis of, but my heart challenges everything I feel, almost as to slow the self-judgement I bestow upon myself. Though no clue, no thought lies within my mind as to why I have forgotten that Fall day, all my heart can tell me is that the memories I seek should stay forgotten. And close, only closer, I learned why...

Fall seemed to come quite early in October that year. Of course, given that it was in Welsh country, snow had already begun to fall, as it would until the first breath of Spring arrived between the moss covered stone colossi that dotted the green countryside, rising up to the the heavens, so as to reach the warming light of the Sun. The growing season was nearly over by then. Of course, a few stray stalks of wheat and cotton remained, and gardens, however few there, was remained living with their faded, yet extensive color spectra. Fog began to lightly settle in the shallow valleys between the bracken-strewn mountains, leaving most of the world visible, yet in a light, almost anxious haze. There was no town to be seen in the countryside. Food was either harvested or hunted, as what the land lacked in crops it made up for in abundant deer-life. Sometimes, yet rarely, food was purchased from nearby towns and villages. A few stray farms remained in the mountains, for the purpose of growing crops and flowers that were native, or only obtainable in those areas.

Those slow, cold days within the Welsh Highlands are still fresh within my mind, a cascade of memories re-invoking the days of happiness, yet one day, that one day, reminding me of what happened that Fall. Of the dark shadows, and of her...

Of these Fall days, no one seemed of importance except her. Not too far from my family's farmhouse situated within the green valley, there was a girl, no older than eighteen maybe, who lived alone within a small cabin. Saying she strange was an understatement. She had long, jet-black hair that, in dire contrast to most of the Welsh girls and their brown, or blonde features. She bore strange white skin as well, almost as though she was reflecting the cold weather that had come into the area. Though many of the different farmers within the mountains knew of her, none of them, nor us, the sons and daughters knew her name. Most of us just referred to her as "The girl with the flowers", because that was all she ever seemed to reveal to anyone. The area around her cabin was surprisingly untouched, with no animals, no cultivated land, not even a fence. But the one greatness to it, which would catch the eye of any passerby, was the Blue Orchids. Their petals, within the center's vicinity, had a blue-white brilliance that shone like the sky around the Sun, in deep contrast to the darkened, mixed purple and royal edges. The stem was greener than any paint in the world. It was almost as though she was challenging nature by creating more beauty in a few years than it could in its lifetime. She was out there every morning right as the first light came into the Highlands, and every evening as shadows began to cover the hills and mountains, watering and tending to the masterpieces she had created, the gifts she had given to the country, as though she was saying "This is my contribution to the world".

We never spoke that often. Every now and then, on the way to my mother and father's farm, I would voice a slight "Hello" or "Hi" while passing on the road beside her home. I'd be greeted with a smile, but then our lives would continue to their usual run-of-the-mill activities. Such was the case within the Highlands, as you never really grew close with anyone unless they were either your siblings, or someone you've known for your whole life. However, even for a Highland citizen, she was isolated. I couldn't blame her for that, as I could only imagine what it'd be like to live without a family at that age, especially in the mountains. There was some strange feeling to her I couldn't seem to put my finger on. Being near her made everything seem morose and melancholy, as though she was not a person, but an embodiment of what she had lost, or what she had gained.

And I wish everything, everything had been done different. Maybe then everything would have changed, and these dreams wouldn't come back to haunt be both in my waking and sleeping thoughts.

That day began like most in the Welsh mountains. I woke up early, got dressed, and ate a breakfast of bagels with a layer of butter, and a rarebit as a treat. (Note to the readers: Rarebit is a traditional Welsh dish, usually served with butter. It's basically a pancake in which you use potato instead of batter, covered with melted cheese, and my God, it's delicious.) I headed outside and began the two mile walk to my mother and father's farm, on the worn road which existed before I was born. I passed by the girl's house, and as it was morning, saw her tending to the brilliant Blue Orchids. I waved slightly, receiving a "Morning" in return, and continued on my way down to the valley. After walking for about a half-hour. I joined my father on the road. Such was the case, as at his age he walked a bit slower, and I was able to catch up easily. We talked for what seemed like hours (Though it was only an hour itself) about the farm, conditions in the other towns, the incoming weather, laughing, and other things that seemed of minor importance. If only...

About halfway between our home and the farm, there was the mountain-side road. According to some of the older folks within the cluster of farms, it had been there since the late 1800's. That being the case, it was narrow and beaten. On the left side of the path was Bwlch y Saethau, known as "The Arrowhead", as it was one of the tallest mountains in the Highlands. On the right was a brown cliff, a sheer drop to Ystrad Fflur, the "Valley of Flowers". You had to stay on the left side of the path, for fear of falling off the sheer, two-hundred foot drop down the green and yellow valley.

That day, the wind was blowing harder than usual. My father informed me that this usually happened in the first days of fall, when the gales blew the strongest between the mountains, quickening the wind to a pushing pace. We walked along the path quicker than usual, in case the gale blew the other way, away from the mountain-side. Walking along, I heard a strange creaking noise, and froze, staring up the long slope of the grey mountain. It was no different than usual, but something about it didn't seem right. Then I noticed something was moving on a plateau, in the direction the gale began to quicken. And at a moment too late, I realized that a chunk of the plateau had fallen, and was coming down the mountain straight towards me. My father ran towards me, and before it hit the ground, threw me out of the way, taking the full force of the piece of raging Earth. After passing over him, I noticed he was still hanging on the mountain, by only a few fingertips With every ounce of strength in my body, I dashed towards him to grab his arm. But before I could reach him, a fraction of a second before I grabbed for him, I saw his face, and knew that second what would happen.

And at that moment, I saw my father give up hope, and plummet into the valley below.

[End of Part One]
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LunarGuardian is not online. LunarGuardian
Joined: 26 Aug 2012
Total Posts: 39
16 Sep 2012 10:24 AM
Wow... this is amazing.
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clovekillsall is not online. clovekillsall
Joined: 17 Aug 2012
Total Posts: 167
07 Nov 2012 09:18 AM
Ok, I LOVED the story..But don't be suprised when some hate comes along by some other people from The Vision, ignore what they say, this is truly amazing.
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BaGoo77 is not online. BaGoo77
Joined: 26 Jan 2011
Total Posts: 168
07 Nov 2012 10:13 AM
I agree totally!

I'd love to hear more! Unless that is a cliff-hanger. I doubt it is though, it does say
"[End of Part 1]"
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picklebuddy7321 is not online. picklebuddy7321
Joined: 23 Jul 2012
Total Posts: 1727
07 Nov 2012 12:48 PM
Ditto to all of those.
Are you in like the last grade or somthing because that was epic. That's the standerd of writing people in Yale should be writing.
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funstella is not online. funstella
Joined: 13 Jan 2012
Total Posts: 32
07 Nov 2012 04:48 PM
om so.. detailed and it reminds me of something...
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Thor8 is not online. Thor8
Joined: 16 Dec 2008
Total Posts: 225
07 Nov 2012 08:39 PM
(@ Responses)
Thanks, you guys. It really means a lot that people like my work.
Oh, and for the record @picklebuddy7321, no xD. I'm just a HS Freshman ^_^.
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Thor8 is not online. Thor8
Joined: 16 Dec 2008
Total Posts: 225
10 Nov 2012 11:29 AM
Also, forgot to mention, "End of Part One" means end of Chapter 1. It's supposed to be a three part/chapter short-story. TRYING to post parts 2 and three, but roblox won't let me for some strange reason.
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