Let's Keep it Going

Well two stories are up! Anyone have a title for a third story? The last two have been a lot of fun. If you have a title, post it here or on twitter and I will write you a story within two weeks.

Ghost Moon

I sat tucked out of sight as I watched my town mosey along like today was just another ordinary day. To them it was, in fact I was the only one in the entire town that knew otherwise. I am the town’s bookkeeper; my father was one before me and his father before him. We keep track of all the records that are important to the town, for a small fee I even keep track of personal records. However, there is one very important record that has been kept for hundreds of years, the Moon Tracker. The Moon Tracker is considered the most important record of all time, keeping this record accurate can save lives. Every town has one and since all of the towns are so spread out, every town relies on their own record keeper to keep them on track. And up until me my family had been flawless at it.

Five years ago, when I turned twenty-one I inherited the bookkeeping shop. My dad had died and I was in charge. I decided that I wanted to make it my own so I re-transcribed all of the books and re-organized the entire shop. Everyone paid me compliments and admired my organizational skills. I was loved by all of the townspeople, it was even in talks of having me be the next Mayor, and I was at the top of my game. It was only a few months ago that I realized my mistake, a mistake I refused to tell anyone. I have heard stories of past Ghost Moons, and to be honest they never sounded all that bad to me. In fact, it just sounded like a fairy tale. Since the Ghost Moon only appears once every hundred years I have never known anyone who has seen it. It has just been this big fable that everyone tells. And to be honest I do not believe it. Maybe that is why I decided not tell anyone that the Ghost Moon will actually appear tonight and not four months from now as the Moon Tracker says.

The stories everyone tells at the yearly moon festival indicate that there is usually much preparing. They are in fact preparing today but not preparing as if the event was tonight. It takes about a year to put everything in motion. Everyone helps others cover their homes from top to bottom making sure there are no cracks, windows etc. They also create bolts for everyone’s doors. This I have never understood, for if ghosts are going to roam the earth then why would doors stop them? Maybe this is why I do not believe in the Ghost Moon fable. It just doesn’t seem plausible to me. Also, if only one person has ever died in the past 2,000 years because of the Ghost Moon, then why is everyone so afraid? Perhaps it’s the thought of seeing dead loved ones. Who knows, but what I do know is that this is just a bunch of baloney.

So to be honest, I did not feel a tinge of guilt as I strolled home, stopping by Jim’s Mart to pick up a bit of liquor. Tomorrow I will tell everyone that the Ghost Moon has come and went and that the fable has been false this entire time. I will be relished as a hero and become Mayor instantly.

I was feeling rather pleased with myself as I curled up in my bed, my bottle grasped in my fist, watching the flames of my candle dance, creating shadows swaying on my walls. I began to drift off, excited that the day was closing and feeling peaceful with my decision. With a brief hush the candle blew out and an all to familiar voice whispered into my ear.

“Jacob, what in God’s name have you done?”

I jumped suddenly, leaping off the bed and knocking over the black-tipped candle, spewing the hot wax onto my bare feet. The searing heat brought me to my senses and I closed my eyes tight. Knowing now that I was definitely awake there was no way I would see whom I had just heard. I opened my eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the darkness of my cold, lonely room. There he was, a little paler, but just as domineering and judgmental as ever. His hair looked just as it had when the maiden had combed it for his funeral. He stared at me with a smirk on his face, and the image of him lying in the coffin made me add warm, regurgitated liquor to my wax covered feet.

“Now son, is that anyway to greet your long lost Father?” He chuckled.

“You’re not lost” I gasped, trying to regain my sense of… well anything. “You’re dead!” I screamed. And as my angered voice echoed through my home and onto the streets I noticed my scream was not the only one to ring through the night.

I left my dead father sitting on the bed, and ran outside. I saw people screaming, holding and carrying children running from their own homes. Ghastly white family members and friends followed their living relatives, not understanding why they are being run from. I stand outside my door for a minute hoping that all of this is a nightmare, but as an uncanny chill shoots through my spine my father appears at my side. A second chill stands my hair on end as my Grandfather joins us watching the chaos.

“Still think it’s a load of baloney boy?” My grandfather’s husk voice has not changed in the afterlife.

“Okay, so I screwed up, but what am I supposed to do now? Is there a way to send all of you back or do I just have to wait it out?”

“Son, we appear because of the moon, so we’re going to be here all night, better make the best of it. Let’s just go back inside and chat, people will be here pretty soo…”

“That’s it! Dad you were always the bright one in the family.”

“Well thank you, but what’s ‘it’, what did I say?”

“Make the best of it! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity! I think I can turn this around!”

I scrambled from my porch and ran to the back of my house and through my own yard and into the common yard. We often have festivals and gatherings here. I quickly light the master fire and the little ones, which light up the outer circle. I run back to my house and find my deceased ancestors.

“Is there anyone else from our family here?” I ask gasping for breath.

“Your mother is trying to find your aunt, why?” My dad said.

I pause at his words and then snap back to my mission.

“Go get her, gather our family meet me at the common yard.”

“But why…?”

“Don’t ask! Just do it!” I screamed.

I ran out and headed to Shirley’s house. Shirley is the girl I am madly in love with. There is an understanding between us, but she is the town’s pride so I have a lot of competition. But I wasn’t worried about that right now; I knew if anyone could help me set this straight it was her, if she didn’t hate my guts already.

I found Shirley in the back of her house, huddle under her parents bed with her little sister and brother.

“Shirley, Shirley it’s me!”

“Jacob what is going on? I thought the Ghost Moon wasn’t to shine for four more months!”

“Shirley I miscalculated, I know I screwed up but you have to help me! I am trying to make this a good thing.”

“A good thing! Why don’t you try to tell them why their dead parents are in the kitchen attempting to cook them supper?!” She gestures toward her ten-year-old brother and seven-year-old sister who were crying into her dress.

“Take them to the common circle and try to bring every living being there, I will do the rest, you can hate me tomorrow just please trust me tonight.”

I ran outside and was immediately greeted with the town of the past. People I recognized and those I had only heard of were staring at me in pain. At that moment I realized that the Ghost Moon wasn’t something they dreaded, it was something they looked forward to, they weren’t trying to hurt us, they were trying to re-connect with us, they missed us. I had to set this right and if I pulled it off I could change the future of every Ghost Moon from now on.

“I know you’re confused, it must be so different seeing this event from another side. I must explain, I got the date wrong.”

The ghosts begin to shake their head, some laughter and some understanding oh’s make their way through the ghastly crowd.

“No one was expecting you tonight so that is why they are so freaked out, but I have a plan. I think if we just changed their minds about the night of the Ghost Moon then we can all have a great time. You are here to re-connect with them right?”

General nods of agreement circle around the group.

“Great, well let’s make them see that. Follow me to the common yard and lets make this a reunion and not a night of terror.”

I could see the skepticism on their face, but little Lucy Langhorn, who died way to young of pneumonia, ran up to me and nodded her head. I began to walk towards the yard with Lucy by my side. I prayed under my breath hoping her union with me was enough to convince the others.

I could hear the angry mumbling and even some yelling of the living as we walked closer and closer to the yard. I fought every urge in my being that told me to run away. I had to fix this now, the night was moving forward every second and if I didn’t fix it now my life and reputation would be tarnished forever.

Just as I had expected the site of me sent the group into instant uproar, I was convinced I had an uprising on my hands, but before they could charge me little Lucy stepped into view. The crowd fell silent except for a waning scream of Mrs. Langhorn.

“Lucy!” she cried. The crow parted as her and her husband rushed towards Lucy. They went to grasp her and much to my surprise they were able to actually hug her and hold her. I hadn’t even tried to touch my father so I didn’t know if it was possible.

Lucy had done what I couldn’t, with this one positive recognition of a ghost families alive and departed began to reconnect and heartfelt reunions seeped through the crowd. I found my mother in the crowd and starred at her in awe for seconds without moving. I had been in such a rush to save my reputation that I had almost missed my own once in a lifetime opportunity. My mother had died in child birth, I only knew her in pictures, but those eyes were the same eyes that stare at me every night as I fall asleep, her picture has always been by my bed, but this is the first time in my entire life that I have ever laid eyes on her actual being. I ran through the crowd and hugged her so tightly if she had not been a ghost I may have crushed.

“I am so proud of you,” she whispered to me.

Tears slid down my cheeks as I felt my father’s hand on my shoulder.

“You have done good son, but I think the town still deserves an explanation.

I tear myself from my mother’s grasp regretfully and make my way towards the main fire. There is already a log ready for me to stand upon, the entire crowd hushes instantly as I step onto it.

“Ladies and gentlemen, and family and friends. This is a night we will all remember for the rest of our lives. Yes, I messed up the dates.” I try to forge past this part without letting comments in, but the crowd lets out a collective huff and some wisecracks make their way through. “Yes, well that is obvious, but anyway look what has happened. We weren’t able to shut them out this time. Ask your family members who were alive a hundred years ago, this has never happened before, no one has treated this night as the happy reunion it should be.” I pause allowing for the collective nods of the elder deceased. “Look, I made a mistake and if you want to chastise me for it then do it but do it tomorrow. True, I never believed in the Ghost Moon, perhaps I never let myself believe because I was too terrified at it not being real. Tonight I have seen my mother for the first time and I am going to spend every single second of this night talking to her and cherishing each moment. I suggest you do the same with your family, for the next time this happens we will all be on the other side of the moon and I think we would all like to be greeted with open arms and not locked doors.”

For a few seconds there is complete silence over the crowd and then my little savior lets out a very excited “Eeek! Lets dance!”

Laughter erupts through the crowd and instantaneously fiddles begin playing a jig and a party like the town has never seen before erupts out of the night.

I lay with my head in my mother’s lap, my father sits holding my mother and we watch and laugh at the town enjoying this peculiar night. I know I have saved my reputation but for the first time in my life I don’t even care. This night has changed me, my town and the story of the Ghost Moon forever, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Oh boy

So John has given me another title: "Ghost Moon". I will work on this and have it posted within two weeks. Anyone can give me a title, I really hope this idea takes off. Thanks John for helping me start the blog!


<3

The Servant's Dream

The Servant's Dream

By Mickala Jauregui

I had known Abrha my entire life. He lived in the palace and was a third generation servant of the Maharahjah, who is my father. Abrha was always very quiet, never really looked at anyone in the eyes, he was raised by servants of a different time so he acted very old fashioned. My father would occasionally invite him to dinner and would always give time off and presents around special holidays. Abrha never took any time off or any of the gifts. He did not wish to be disrespectful he simply did not have a use for anything my father ever gave him, until this past year.

For 39 years my father had been watching Abrha, he watched him grow up and learn to clean and serve dinner and tend to the animals and there was only one thing that stuck in his mind. Abrha never wore shoes. The servants were allowed time and money to make their own clothes, shoes they could buy with the money given to them, but Abrha never bought any. I had also noticed this, but was too shy to ask him about it, of all the servants, Abrha was the one that scared me. There was something so mysterious about him that I could not tell if he was good or bad.

On his fortieth birthday my father gave Abrha a pair of shoes. They were not any shoes that my family would wear, just as plain and simple as shoes could ever be. I will never forget the look on Abrha’s face when he opened the box.

“Now Abrha, I know you will just return them to me, but before you do, will you do me a favor and wear them for just one day?” My father gently pleaded to him. Abrha raised his head and looked my father directly in the face, and spoke in a voice that sounded as tiny as a mouse looks.

“Of course your majesty”. There was great excitement in his eyes and I knew that Abrha was in love, not with me, nor with my father but with those shoes.

Later that night I snuck down from my room to peek in on Abrha, I wanted to see if he was sleeping in the shoes. He was not sleeping at all. He was down on his knees in front of his bed, with his shoes sitting facing him on his bed. It looked as if he was praying, to the shoes. I was so confused, why would anyone be silly enough to pray to a pair of simple shoes?

For one week I crept down to Abrha’s room and every single time he was doing the same thing, on the sixth night of my doing this I tripped on the stairs and landed with a big thud. I ignored the stabbing pain in my knee and tried to lie as still as possible , but it was too late. I could hear Abrha gasp and heard clinking and clunking before he finally peaked his head around the corner.

“Minki, what are you doing here?” He said in his mouse like voice, as threatening as he could make that voice sound even while using a nickname of mine.

“Nothi..I..Just… wait. No, how dare you ask me, what are YOU doing? Why are you praying to a shoe, you could be exiled for that you know?” my courage escaped me so fast my voice was lowering before I could even finish the sentence.

“Minki…” Abrha’s voice became a soft combination of pleading with me and quiet desperation. “Little Minki, those shoes your father has given me, they are the first gift I have ever received that I cannot return.” He lowered his head as if in great shame.

“Abrha that’s a good thing! My father WANTS you to keep the gifts, why else would he want to give you something every year?” I move towards him slowly, he has become the child, and I the adult.

“It’s not my place to accept a gift from such a man. I am his servant, there is a line, my Grandmother told me….”

I interrupt him by taking his hand, his entire body flinches, but I grab tight so he cannot pull away. “Abrha, times are different, yes you work for us, but you are family. Abrha, we assume you work here because you want to, you can leave whenever you want to. My father says that all the time.”

“I have seen other people leave, but before today I never knew where I would go or what I would do.”

“Before today?” I position myself in front of him so he is practically forced to look at me while he talks.

“Those shoes, Minki, I just, they’re beautiful. I have always admired the shoes you and your family wear but they were always so fancy. I never knew you could make something simple and yet make it beautiful. I want to do that.”

“You want to be a shoemaker?” I am completely perplexed, being a shoemaker does not sound like much to aspire to.

“Minki, my life has always been dictated to me, I just followed the paths that my family had set before me. This is the first thing I have thought of on my own, the first thing I have wanted for myself that no one else has done before me. But it’s silly, I am too old to start something like that.

Before I can even think I spring up and run back up the stairs leaving Abrha on the stairs bewildered. I fly through the palace letting the loud slaps of my feet echo through the sleeping rooms. I zip past the guards that always stand by my father’s door and throw myself onto his bed. “Papa, Papa!!!!, wake up!” I toss him as if he were a fish out of water.

“What Minkisha is everything okay?” My father sits up with a bolt of alertness.

“Yes, papa but listen, LISTEN!”

“Okay, okay. What?” My father rubs his eyes, as he gets out of bed. “Lets go out in the hall, so we don’t wake your mother.”

As we approach the door we see the guards peeking in, in disbelief, scowling at me for totally disregarding their roles as guards. My father smirks at them as we walk past, not helping the matter for me any.

“Now, Minkisha, what is wrong?”

“Papa, I was talking to Abrha tonight and…”

“How many times have I told you not to bother the servants if you cannot sleep. You are not their problem Minkisha.”

“Papa, I know! But, Papa listen!!! I was talking to Abrha, and he loves the shoes you gave him, in fact he does not want to return them to you.”

“Well that’s a good thing, Min… is this why you woke me up in the middle of the night?”

“Papa, Abrha was very distressed. He wants to be a shoemaker and he does not think he can. He thinks he is too old and does not have the resources to do so.” I gasp for breath, I am talking so fast I just barely hope he can understand me.

“Minkisha, where is this going?”

“Papa, I want to help him and I want to help him now. Papa you can do something can’t you?”

My father stared at me for a long time, I began to melt under his gaze. I couldn’t tell for the life of me if he was angry, confused, flustered or just tired. I started to think up ways to talk myself out of everything I had just done when he let out a defeated and contented sigh that rustled the hair by my neck. He patted me on the head and turned me towards the door of my room. He had walked me straight to my bedroom without me even realizing it.

I was fuming that night when I went to bed, why should a nine year old not be listened to? I was just trying to help someone who was important to my family. How could that be wrong?

------------------------------------

It turns out I wasn’t wrong, it turns out that that stunt would shape not only Abrha’s life but mine as well. I remember this story as I sit here in “Abrha Kadabrha” in the middle of our town. I am grown up now and a full grown Princess to boot. Sure it turns heads to come to this part of the streets to get my shoes custom made, but Abrha is the best and besides, when you’re a Princess and everything is so lavish and over the top, it is nice to have something as simply beautiful as Abrha’s hand crafted shoes. Abrha keeps me in check, if I ever get too full of myself or caught up in my life style, I just go to Abrha’s shop. He’ll let me watch him as he makes my shoes and it puts everything into perspective. A dream is neither too big nor too petty, if it is what you truly dream then there should be nothing that stops you from trying to achieve it. I helped Abrha realize a dream he had not even fully developed and by doing that it showed me at a very young age, that anything is possible.

My first assignment!

So courtesy of John I will be writing a story entitled "The Servant's Dream". I have begun to outline it and will hopefully post the story before Monday.

Thank you!!!

Starting a New Idea

Happy New Year!

A while ago my Dad gave me a title of a story and I ended up writing a 10 page story that was really fun to do. So I want to do the same thing with you! Give me a title and I will write something based on the title! It may take a few weeks, but I will post it here!

If I am given multiple titles in one week I will randomly pick one.

Thanks everyone!
~MickiJ

Amazing!!!

So I have heard time and time again that many authors write better with music. At first I wrote with no music. Then I started listening to Ben Folds, now I LOVE Ben Folds. Apparently though, I write much better while listening to Bernadette Peters, Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong and Frank Sinatra. Go figures.

Love all of them and am very excited that they are my muses.

-MJ