Kitty33133

THE MEADOW MAN CHAPTER EIGHT: "Frankie, son! Let's go for a picnic!" my father says to me. I grab Kipper's paw and we run outside and to the backyard. My favorite oak tree is planted right in the center. "Papa," I say to him happily, stumbling over a few clumps of grass, "Did you bring tuna for Kipper?" "Of course I did," he smiles to me, jogging towards the oak tree. He sets down a basket, a baseball, and two mitts. Then he sits on the grass, taking food and utensils from the basket. I run after him, sitting and helping him get everything out of the basket. And just as all the food is set up and ready, Mother walks around the yard with a

THE MEADOW MAN CHAPTER SEVEN: Ripper is staring at me. Blank green eyes filled with anger. He knows. He knows. "Rip, I'm sorry!" I plead to him.  Gerard is in the other room doodling. Writing maybe. But Ripper refuses to listen and he refuses to blink. "Ripper please! I know you don't like him but I just can't help it. I do!" Finally he answers. "You're making a mistake." I feel confused. Out of everything I can ever remember feeling and doing, having Gerard is the only thing that feels right. "What are you talking about?" "He's just going to hurt you, Frankie! All you ever do is spend time with him just to be hurt. He's going to kill y

THE MEADOW MAN CHAPTER SIX: "And then red and yellow mix to become orange. It's pretty easy once you get the hang of it. Blue and yellow equal green, red and blue equal purple, and red and yellow equal orange. And the more of one primary color you add, the more it shows up in the secondary color," Gerard says with a smile. He's holding up a paintbrush and showing me a plate he's using to mix paints. He told me last night that he wanted to teach me to paint. And I agreed. "Okay now you try." I reach out to take the paint brush and a separate plate. He applies three different colors to it. Red, blue, and yellow. And slowly, yet concentrated,

THE MEADOW MAN CHAPTER FIVE: Today is a happy day. Gerard and I haven't heard those monsters lurking around the house so we decide to have a picnic. I remember back to the day when Ripper and I found Gerard. I realize, with a frown, that I had forgotten Ripper inside my bedroom. We cautiously make our way towards the field behind my house. Gerard is uncomfortable about the walk way that leads to the top of the ridge. But I coax him along eventually. We reach the plain that expands from the cliff and walk a short distance to a nice big tree. There are many storm clouds in the sky, but I can tell from the smell of the air that it isn't going

THE MEADOW MAN CHAPTER FOUR: "DO YOU HAVE A FUCKING GUN?!" he screams at me. There are tears leaking out of his eyes and he looks like he'd rather shoot me than the evil that has invaded my house. "I-I don't k-know!" I shriek back at him. I'm scared out of my wits and I'm practically strangling Ripper. "Shhhshhsh", he hisses at me suddenly, both hands up. I hear a gurgling noise close to me and I just about scream. We've locked ourselves in Mother's room and that thing is just behind the door. It makes an inhuman noise. It sounds like a small scream, almost as if it inhaled, instead of exhaled. I take in a shaky breath and Gerard pulls me

THE MEADOW MAN CHAPTER THREE: "Pass the butter." We are eating breakfast; I made toast and he made eggs. He likes butter and jelly on his but I just like butter. We are timid and polite. We are both embarrassed about the night before. "Here," I reply to him and I give him the butter. Other than eating, there is no other sound. Ripper decided to stay in bed. He really doesn't like Gerard. As we finish our toast and eggs, I start to clean up. I notice Gerard hesitating by the sink for a few minutes. I ignore him, hoping he'll say something. But he doesn't and just leaves. Gerard goes to one of the rooms in the house (I'm unsure of what it

THE MEADOW MAN CHAPTER TWO: I watch him sleep.  I've never seen an actual human sleep; it's like watching the wind blow through the grass or the tide falling on the rock. It's peaceful and entertaining. Altogether: wonderful. He twitches, though. It's confusing because he'll just be breathing contently, and then all of sudden he twitches. Sometimes he makes a little sound. It's like a little "Mmm" or a "Guuh." Other times he'll talk and I laugh to myself because what he says is mostly ridiculous. However, he doesn't know I watch him sleep. This has been the 3rd night he's been here and also the 3rd night I've watched him. He doesn't ask wh

THE MEADOW MAN CHAPTER ONE: There is a house, parked way up on the side of a ledge. From one angle, all that can be seen of it is the roof cresting over the top of the ridge. On the other side, the house is grasping onto the wall of the steep drop, looking down onto none other than the cold, Pacific Ocean.  To get to the front door, you must walk the thin, man-made path that curves around the house and over the water. There is no backyard, and no front yard. There are no windows except on the front of the house. And the only plants are the lonesome shrubs and herbs peeking through the cracks of the lava stones and granite. From the ocean th

It was always grey outside; the only color I could see. It was a faintly blue, sort of grey color. It was the color of all the rain. I ran my fingers along the racing droplets that were always on the luminous window; my window. I looked at my pale, curious face in the reflection, distorted by the drops and glass. My irises faded into the rain, becoming the same color, and I was just left as an emptied casket of skin and blonde hair. I looked like the ghost of someone who lived a hundred years before me, and I was her descendant. “Alice,” my mother whispered to me in her velvet voice. We always whispered in this house, there was no

Dear Diary. Happy barf-day, Diary. I hope you’re having fun. Well, anyway, it’s a Turds-day today. Turds-day the 33rd of Quintember. Favorite day of the year. Skool wasn’t fun though. Everyone there tells jokes that I don’t get. They always forget the puns. But it’s okay. The black-haired, brown-eyed boy with marker all over him talked. He talked today. He told me about his marker-skin. He said he wanted to look like he had tat-yous, so he drew them on. I don’t get it. I think he forgot the pun. Anyway, I asked him if I could draw something on him with my big, red marker. He said sure and flipped his shirt