Eeveelution

This is the first section of a short story I've had simmering for a couple of days, and this was as many characters as my phone would put in a "memo". My only question is, do you find it intriguing? (Bonus Question: What do you think of the writing style? It's not too thick?) Thanks! ^_^

Inspired by this post.

Choices are inevitable in life. We choose what we wear, where we go, what route we take; these are all relatively routine choices that tend to have little noticeable affect on the outcome of our lives. Sometimes, however, we find ourselves presented, even unknowingly, with a choice, the making of which will change our lives forever. It was while I was walking through the woods on a bright and breezy afternoon that I found myself presented with just such a choice...though I didn't know it at the time.

The cry rang out through the trees, startling a flock of pidgeys from one immediately to my right.

"NO! I wanted an Umbreon, not some girly pink thing!"

To this day, I'm not entirely certain why I decided to race toward the voice at a full sprint in almost total ignorance of what awaited me. Yet, that's what I did, and the scene that met my eyes upon arrival is permanently burned into my brain.

A sylveon lay on the ground in front of its so- called Trainer (though he did not in fact deserve such a title, as I soon learned), cowering from his screams of rage and aggressive gestures. I don't believe I could've left at that point had the earth itself opened up to swallow me whole, such was the swell of pity in my heart for the poor creature. I had to take action.

"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?" I demanded, advancing from the shelter of the trees into the clearing.

The man whirled, ready to pounce had I proved more obviously threatening than a woman of my comfortable shape and limited stature appears.

"None of your damn business, that's what! Get lost!"

His voice was infused with the same wrath he'd been letting loose on the sylveon just moments before, and something inside me responded in kind. I found a guttural snarl escaping my lips as repulsion and disdain flooded my mind and every muscle of my body tensed up to attack. The only thing that held me back was the glimmer in the sky blue eyes of that beautiful monster, staring at me, watching to see what I'd do. Would I be better than the man before me, or would I follow him down to the dreaded level on which he resided? I forced myself to relax ever so slightly.

"Why are you so upset with this sylveon?" I inquired, keeping an even tone despite my inner turmoil.

"It evolved into this...this thing!" he sputtered. "I wanted an umbreon, and ended up with this instead!"

"You do know that Umbreon evolves out of friendship, right?" I asked.

He smacked his forehead to convey that I should've known he was aware of such information, so I continued.

"But to get a Sylveon, your Eevee has to really love you!"

"So?"

"So?? An eeveelution resulting in a Sylveon is one of the biggest compliments a Trainer can receive!"

"Maybe so, but it's not what I wanted. Umbreon is ten times cooler. Sylveon is just dumb."

The creature whimpered, clearly understanding  our conversation. The anger inside me boiled up again.

"Quite frankly, I don't see how someone like you could've possibly ended up with a sylveon, anyway." I spat.

"What do you mean?" He sounded almost indignant.

"I mean, you clearly don't love this Pokemon, so I have no idea how it could've ever loved you."

"Oh, I loved my Eevee," he explained. "I just don't love this." He spat out the last word with a sneer as though it were bad wine and glanced over his shoulder at the creature huddled in despair and pain.

"So you only loved it as long as it was useful to you? That's disgusting."

"Hey, I just want what I want, okay??"

"Well, if you don't want your sylveon, give it to me!" I blurted out.

The monster's ears perked up, an almost hopeful gesture. My heart melted and my resolve hardened. The Trainer stared at me, mouth agape, clearly attempting to determine whether he'd heard me correctly. I repeated my request, more calmly this time. He remained frozen for a few moments longer before finally roaring, "WHAT?!?"

I clarified. "Well, you've just spent the last ten minutes saying how much you don't want this sylveon. I, on the other hand, would adore a companion like this one here. What do you say?"

Reacting to a Realization

I don't think I fully understood that my mother will be in Alderson Federal Correctional Institution in West Virginia for the next two years starting Friday until I said it aloud to a supporter at our house just now.

Like, two years is a long time.  It's as long as my dad was in Milan.  That time...it seemed so surreal.  And so does this.

She says she doesn't want me or my brother to go when my dad drives her down, because she doesn't want us to see her like that.  But, we're going to visit her.  We're going to see it.  We're going to see her in prison clothes, wasting away before our eyes like my dad did.  We're going to see her demeaned, treated like a hardened criminal who doesn't deserve kindness.

We're going to suffer again, only this time it'll be less often, because she'll be eight hours away instead of one.

I'm going to miss my mom.

I'm going to miss her so much.

And I don't think I can deal with that realization.

Objects in Space (poem)

We're just objects in space.

Drifting through the dark,
We dare to dream,
Devoid of direction,
But desperate for design.

We constantly come into contact
With other creatures of the
Cold, cavernous chasm,
Careful not to crash into most.

These show in different
Shapes and shifts, and,
Though surely don't share all themselves,
Yet shed some shorn-off shells.

Many make their mark
By streaming merrily along,
Meriting marvel, and moving us
To meditate on more than mere existence.

A relative few fly by,
And in their fashion,
Free some fragments of themselves,
Forcing us to feel them forever.

Periodically, however,
Perhaps predictably,
A passerby will pique our interest.
Perhaps we'll play a little while.

We swing about each other,
Sailing so close,
Serving sideways in a
Swirling storm.

But now we wonder:
Would it be wise
To lose our wits and WHAM!
We whisk away as one.

Musings on the Nature of Hope

That was probably the most disappointing moment of my life, right there. I stood up, and for some reason (I would attribute it to the single Twisted Pink Lemonade I had, but I'm not THAT much of a lightweight), the floor looked further away, and I swore I could see the tops of the moldings more easily. I was wondering how this could be, when the thought crossed my mind. Maybe...just maybe...I had grown.

I know, in retrospect, it was quite ridiculous, but at the time, my hopes overruled my sensibilities. I went to get my brother, even refusing to bend down and pet my cat on the way, lest I somehow lose my newly-gained height by lowering myself closer to the floor.

I gave him the ruler and stood against our old markings on the wall, holding my breath in anticipation. Alas, I still stood just as tall as I did on April 13th, 2005.

In my heart, I knew I hadn't really grown, but hope is a curious thing. It can make us believe in the impossible. It leads men to madness, but can also lead the downtrodden to victory.

It is truly amazing.

Red and Gold (poem)

I suppose, considering it's October 1st, I'll admit that it's finally Autumn.  So, in honor of this, I'm posting this poem I wrote in 2007 about Fall colors.  Enjoy. :)

Red and Gold

Fire burns the trees tonight,

fueled by the golden ball of the West.

The flames lick the branches

like children do candy,

eager to find the sweetest spot.

Like arms, they embrace,

reaching higher and higher,

as if to join their brothers in the sky,

changing in hue as they ascend.

Then, piece by piece,

the crinkled ashes drift to the ground,

once they have spent the juices

of the tree.

And what is left is barren,

but still graceful.

A twining, twisting work of ages,

left to rest from growth

until the Spring.

A Eulogy for Justice (poem)

I'd say this was a rough draft, but realistically-speaking, I'm not going to change anything here, so...here it is.

A Eulogy for Justice

Let us pray.

O, Justice, you beauteous creature, lost to us at the hands of those who swore to protect you!

Your fathers warned us, told us to take care, to keep our minds sharp and our senses keen,

But did we listen?  No.  For a time, we watched and listened and thought and remembered…

But soon, like sands upon the beach, our memories were washed away in waves of new events and fine distractions.

Justice, meantime, was locked away in a gilded rusty tower, a distant gleam on a dreary horizon.

Too soon, the tower was all we remembered, forgetting what great beauty lived inside.

And the protectors we’d assigned, in their long dark robes, realizing that the tower was so much easier than the beauty to tame and corrupt, did so, blood-stained quills scratching furiously to seal her fate, etching wall after wall of leather-bound chains, so that shortly, even the tower fell out of our minds.

And they, the black-robed traitors, with every pound of their hammers, raped and ravaged what was left of darling Justice until she was torn and trembling on the floor of her crumbling keep.

She may not yet be dead, but who can tell?

And so, this day, let us bow our heads, and think of Justice, the light of civilization.

May she rest in peace until she finds her way back home.

Day 5 Update Coming Soon, but...

...my mother was found guilty. I don't know how, really...I'm angry and confused, mostly. As you can imagine, I need some time to process this outcome before I can do a full report.

For now, I'll just say sure was interrupted three times by the Prosecution during her closing argument, and once, they even went to side bar (Google it). In their closing, the government did the same things they objected to my mom doing, but she didn't know the terms to object. They attacked her character, misrepresented facts, and appealed to the jury's pride, jealousy, and spite. It was...truly low.

More later, I promise.

P.S. A quick chuckle, perhaps: it turns out that Melissa Siskind, the primary Prosecutor, when she was looking at my Facebook, accidentally sent me a friend request. She deleted it, of course, but I still got the notification. So, that answers a couple questions, I suppose.

(Days 3 & 4 here...)