/ sagecallaghan0001 / 1 Comment
Once in a stitch in time,
My eyes fell upon a girl
Her hair shone like the river
That sparkled from the sun
But I did not carry that light
I held not a speck of grace
Couldn’t even make a person happy
Or keep my mind straight
I yearned to learn
How I could make myself finer
How do you fix a problem
That holds no answer?
No one would ever like me
The boy who made everything a problem
Including that girl
Who was every answer
“Would you rather
Live a long life of uselessness
Or live a short life
Where everything is perfect?”
The voice asked me
Of course I knew what I desired
I hated myself,
This servile soul
To live a life
Where I wasn’t this pointless soul no more
Would be a beautiful dream
That I would never wish to awaken from
But then,
Wouldn’t the sorrow be worse
Once I returned to reality?
An even lower creature, I would be
But who cares!
If I can feel it just once
“Trade me a year of your life,
And I will give you the gift of intelligence.”
Their voice pounded into my head
“So everyone shall love you,
For being the smartest kid in their class.”
My insides tingled with joy, quickly accepting the offer
What was the significance
Of one year
If I had 70 to offer?
“Take it! Take it!”
I called into nothingness
A receipt of my exchange
Fell into my hands,
Erasing a year of my future life
I was now the smartest kid in class
The smartest kid in school
The smartest
But I knew I still wasn’t good enough
Her gaze
Never fell upon me
In the days that followed
Even though all the others’ did
The one I yearned for
Was the one that did not notice
The burning passion bursting the first instant this power was granted
Quickly died into lifeless rubble
I heard it again the next day
The voice
Who granted wishes
To any that perceived
I begged for another trait
That would make me a better person
“The gift of athleticism,
Costing three years.”
I became
The most popular kid in school
When I made that winning goal
They all cheered and loved me
Besides her
I knew that she saw me
But she didn’t *see* me
I wasn’t good enough?
I returned the next day
And the next day
And the day after that
Until I could reach perfection
Then she would care for me?
Then I would be somebody,
Not nobody?
Then I could actually exist?
But existence
Is not what I received
I was ignorant
An insect
Who fed from plants
That had been sprayed by pesticides
Thinking it was extending its life
But in reality,
The hopeless insect
Was shortening its life
Through the tasty explosion
Of flavorful fruits
How could I live
This perfect life I set up
If I had no life left?
No continuing line
She did approach me
One day
And I thought
‘This is finally it.’
I didn’t wait
For her to say anything
I had to move fast
Before it was too late
I quickly told her
How I felt
And how I had been trying
So hard to make myself of higher quality
She looked down
My heart picking up speed
But it was a guilty look
Upon her face
Sweat beaded upon my forehead
I felt feverish
My heart was growing cold
I knew it was already empty
“I have to admit,
I liked you back.
But before you started ignoring me
To become so popular and flashy.
You have really changed.”
She uttered
But what about now?
I wasn’t correct now?
“The time has passed though.”
She finished with a soft sigh
And continued down the hall
To join her friends
But I had done everything
Everything to become perfect
The voice also promised me
That this would be the answer
I clutch at my chest
As my heart
Beats its final beat
In an empty hum
I had lost track
Of how much of my life I was giving up
I just wanted to be normal
To be accepted
I learned that day
To never live for another
Live only for yourself
Only yourself
Others will turn on you
Cheat you
Make you feel small
But yourself will always be faithful to you.

Poetry

/ sagecallaghan0001 / 3 Comments

I think that poetry is a really awesome way to write, although, I have never had much practice in it. I do not know the exact formatting of how to write poetry, but I would love to figure out how. I think it is interesting how so many ideas and concepts can be picked out of a small piece of poetry, and I would love to do this someday. I want to be able to move my readers in the ways that poetry is able to.

Flash Fiction

/ sagecallaghan0001 / Leave a comment
It was an unsettling feeling. The feeling of being lost, even inside of myself. Who was to know myself better than me? But it felt like I was the one who knew the least.
 A person can’t just walk up to his or herself on the street and ask a question, expecting an answer. The answer resides deep inside the dark holes in our heads that try every form of antics to keep us from finding them.
 Deaths, family problems, society’s judgements; these are all a part of these strategies that try to pull human beings away from the answer inside their heads. Were these punishments purposefully placed at each of these particular points in my specific life. Was it all a conspiracy of some higher up organization?
 Today, a new machine was invented that places a person inside of his or her own mind. The person may fight through each of these tough situations that has occurred in his or her life, to eventually unlock the answer to their life’s existence. Why are we here? Who are we? What is our purpose? Conquering the demons gives to light.
 It was I who created this. It was I who without any doubts or hesitation, placed the cool heavy headpiece over my head. It was I who would find the answer to myself today.
All there was was black for awhile, and I wasn’t sure if I had died from the electromagnetic waves pulsing into my scalp. I hadn’t wanted to test it on anything first. If it succeeded, I would be the first to experience it. And I didn’t fear death. If I perished, then the answer would probably be told that way.
But, I was confident I wouldn’t die…
A light soon bursts through, giving that quick moment when everything is a blinding white, and where nothing is visible.
I unconsciously cling to myself, and feel my arms wrap around a smaller body than I was use to. I was five again, and the world couldn’t have seemed whiter with purity.
It was my creation. I had known what I was getting into and what I would have to face. It felt so sickeningly real though, as if I had never left this time and I was this small innocent child again. Except, this time, I knew what was coming for this small helpless being, and there wasn’t one thing I could do about it.
Their words bounced around my head, finding no escape and just repeating over and over. I internally cried for them to stop, but they just wouldn’t disappear.
The school was entirely white, and this fact only made me feel more bland. These halls were the same every day, but each day I went through them, they seemed to become darker. You never know what is going on in the person’s life you’re standing next to at school. We all hide behind masks, and the ones who don’t are the ones who have found the answer, or are just too innocent to have been corrupted yet.
—
He rips off the string I wear around my neck. I call it a necklace and I’ve become accustomed to it, although it’s really a tag signifying my medical condition.
“I need that,” I tell him, although I was a bit intimidated.
He analyzes it. “Doesn’t this mean that you’re gonna die soon?” he questions in a generally curious tone. He wasn’t intending to be mean, but I was still hit in the chest with these words. I was a child and everyone knew how bad death was.
I take back the tag and look at it closely. It didn’t say anything about me dying, and it didn’t have an expiration date on it. It just meant something was wrong with me… That something was that bad? I look at him in fright.
Sticking an arm out, he pokes a spot on my own arm and I wince. “Is this from what is wrong with you?” he questions more, and I shake my head.
“No, my dad did that,” I correct him. “I ate a cookie that was being saved for my brother.”
Eyes stare at me in confusion. “I don’t think that’s normal…” he tells me, then walks away to move onto something more interesting on the playground I assume.
It happened so often I thought it was normal, for I had never known anything else since I was still a young child. It never happened to my brother, but I didn’t question that. I had always known from the start he was liked more than me, that’s just how it was.
I went home that night, just thinking over and over again about those words. I guess he had been right.
—
I was an oops baby, one of those that were never planned and never meant to happen. Because of this, there was a large age gap of 10 years between my older brother and I. But he was my only sibling, so we kept each other company.
Although, because of this, he was highly favored by my parents over me. I was ‘never suppose to happen,’ a major ingredient to my questioning of ‘why’ I was ever here.
Even with this, I tried to not let it affect me since my brother gave the opposite messages, praising my faults.
Since I was born late in my parents’ lives, there was a higher chance for me to have something medically wrong with me. This, I did have. By 9, it seemed like the end of the line for me.
I lay in a hospital bed, held down by fabric straps and staring up at a blank ceiling. Shadows clung to the white walls, giving them an eerie look, and they seemed to foreshadow what my younger self was soon to find out.
The silence was soon broken by pounding feet hurrying in. I knew something had just happened to me, but the medicine was so strong, everything felt numb. A hand was soon thrust in my face, the owner of it holding a distressed expression filled with hate and sadness. It was my mother’s face, and I knew that hate was for me, and the sadness for my brother.
Even when I question my existence now, the one thing that sticks out to me is that someone did actually seem to love me. They gave up their life in order to save mine, literally giving me a piece of them for where I was faulted. Was that reason enough for me to continue? These thoughts wouldn’t go through the small nine year old’s mind though.
My father stands behind my mom. He isn’t crying even though he had just found out his loved son had died, it was just an expression of pure hate, and it terrified me. My mother was a flustered mess between anger and sadness, but him, he looked as if he truly wanted me to die. I remember behind those many creases in his face, the nights where those creases grew deeper with every drink consumed and every fist thrown against me.
“I can’t believe you would do this!” my mom screams at me. “You killed him!” the desperation was strong in her voice. If she truly felt that way, I just wish she would at least be 100% sincere with it and look me in the eyes, but her gaze wavered away. Her eyes were wide as tears stream down the drained face; a face of horror.
I was too young to be officially separated from my parents, but it seemed I was given up. I was given food, shelter, the necessities, but is that truly the necessities of a human? No. Humans need love and compassion, not heartless gifts.
They were so selfish. I cried to my mom to accept me back, but was given nothing. Didn’t they realize that I was already given my payback? I had lost the only one that truly cared for me, and now was lost in an unending maze of confusion of what to do with myself.
—
My life went down from here until I was in a pit of darkness, not seeing any light, no way out. I was blindly reaching for help, but even if I was given it, I wouldn’t accept it. How could I know it was real?
I was sitting alone in a room completely coated in darkness. My hand shook as I squeezed my eyes shut and guzzled down the stale liquid. I had become what I had hated.
Even though I had experienced what that man did to me, why did I still become him? Was this really what I was meant to be? I open my eyes again, dropping the bottle and staring at that black wall. How did it go from being so blindingly white, to so drippingly black? Where was the answer? Inside of me… Deeper than I could ever reach.
But now I had reached it. The walls melt away, so I am sitting in the middle of just complete utter blackness. Just myself and the black. My answer lies in this darkness that I had to let go of. I close my eyes slowly and breath deeply, releasing myself from the boundaries that have held me down for far too long.
All I hear is—

Evil Door Handles

/ sagecallaghan0001 / 3 Comments

If I were a deer, I’d be sad. Being secluded to the limits of one’s vision petrifies me. Seeing the world through orbs of black and white seems to obscure the beauty. Who knows if someone could even tell if they were bleeding; it could just look like water dripping down their skin…

The fluid glide of the light porcelain colored walls beside me distracts me from the people before me. I wonder if now I am a girl in deer’s clothing. The entire blur of the same ‘colors’ surround me, seeming to close in. Were they the original colors on the paint-pail of Earth, or was the rainbow? Maybe the mush of black, white, and gray are just colors with cloaks over them; hiding their true beauty that none of us can see.

“This is her room,” a deep mellow clear voice comes from the man ahead. His long white cloak blends in with the walls and everything else and just makes it more blinding. Was this what the start of the world looked like? I wonder if God got so blinded by the light, and that’s why things were created unevenly and seemingly incorrectly. After saying these words that hang in the heavy air, he pauses in his steps to turn towards a door that seems to finally be worthy.

A brisk hand with a pen propped between the middle and ring finger grabs the metallic handle that leads to the opening of the white door; such a simple object with a big responsibility. What if an object like that were to break? Would everything go to disaster in its path?

A whine echoes from the hinges that reminds me of the cry of something being pulled to its limits. The door swings when the hand pushes it forward and opens like the opening to a new world; urging you to enter with its unheard of boundaries. Colors now belong to this room, which is also much dimmer. It’s at that weird stage of lighting that looks as if the light is trying to grasp itself to go to full power, but it just can’t make it, leaving an uninvited dreariness. My eyes feel strange trying to adjust to the sudden new lighting, and white from the hallway still blotches my vision.

The doctor whom is obtained to the white coat had entered first, followed by the second figure, my mom, and then me. There is a new presence of pressure. Too many occupying too small of a space. The occupants who had claimed the space before us three entered consisted of three additional.

One being lays in a puffy hospital bed that takes up most of the space in the room. There are trays that hold various items and chairs lingering around the bed, as if pulling you in to make the bed the main focus.

“Hi…” I utter my small greeting while my eyes still scan the room. They finally give in to the pressure, and I stare at my friend. She is conscious, but doesn’t look completely so.

Slumped against the swarm of pillows, she responds back, but I barely hear it.

The room’s thermostat must have spiked. I glance around at all of the people in the room, now even more aware of their presence. They’re all breathing. Their heated air exits their body just to heat the air more, then drifts to others and they breathe it in. The continuous cycle of breathing heat makes my stomach churn and my head start to beat to an unknown rhythm. I start to feel liquid dripping down my skin and the tendrils in my head coil together in a painful embrace.

The people before me continue with their speaking, but I can no longer concentrate on them. A sickening prickling sensation starts to spread throughout my body like a disease infesting a whole land. I try to will the arms locked together inside my head to let go, but they just won’t. My vision still lingers on my friend again, dragging down her weary form.

I haven’t moved from my spot where I stand by the door; where the white from the outside hall still threatens to enrapture me. Everything on my body now seems to weigh a thousand times more than it had before. My clothes act as chains, my bracelets as handcuffs, and my shoes as shackles.

The arms seem to release each other with an abrupt decision. This sudden rebound creates a fuzziness that seems as if it is hiding its own sorrow. I’m not sure if I shut my eyes and missed it all, but when the sense regains itself, the picture before me is not the same as it had been before.

The world is a strange place where everything you know and live can change in the blink of an eye. A tyrant can change to be one of the beings that serve them, a high spirited joyful person can become depressed, a full of health person can die…

My sweaty palms are braced on the tile floor that provides barely any grip. Either the room had shifted, or it was just me. The floor is my companion as I use it for support. When had it gotten this close? My breath leaves me through parted lips that hold many words behind them of question. But the most easily distinguished feeling is my head. The inside is a labyrinth of unclearness and fog. I can feel my heartbeat thumping strongly in my feet and slowly decreasing in parts of my body as you went up. The blood had flown down from my head, leaving it in dizziness peril.

Aside from the lingering odd feeling inside my head, the outside of it holds a searing pain, and I instantly recognize what it is from. On my way down from my past position, my head had collided with that metallic door handle that had caught my eyes on the way in. It looked so harmless between the man’s fingers, but now it was a pain causing piece.

I feel the lurking sensation inside my body of all the eyes in the room watching me. Their eyes seem to delve into my body, but I don’t meet them. Sweat still trickles down my body, looking as if it is trying to pull me down even lower. Arms rapidly grasp ahold of me to help, but their touch feels strange. It’s like they aren’t even touching me. The doctors don’t even know me; they are just following their instincts.

I follow the many orders directed to me, but my mind is still drifting as I sit in the seat I am put in. I stare with an unmoving gaze at that door. It is just as white as the outside hall had been, and I hope it won’t erase me. I seem so dark and imperfect in comparison.

Doors lead to everything new in the world, but it doesn’t appear this was a good one. I wonder what door I will open next…

Flash Fiction Preview

/ sagecallaghan0001 / 1 Comment

It was an unsettling feeling. The feeling of being lost, even inside of myself. Who was to know myself better than me? But it felt like I was the one who knew the least.

 A person can’t just walk up to his or herself on the street and ask a question, expecting an answer. The answer resides deep inside the dark holes in our heads that try every form of antics to keep us from finding them.

 Deaths, family problems, society’s judgments; these are all a part of these strategies that try to pull human beings away from the answer inside their heads. Were these punishments purposefully placed at each of these particular points in my specific life? Was it all a conspiracy of some higher up organization?

 Today, a new machine was invented that places a person inside of his or her own mind. The person may fight through each of these tough situations that has occurred in his or her life, to eventually unlock the answer to their life’s existence. Why are we here? Who are we? What is our purpose? Conquering the demons gives to light.

It was I who created this.