Scotland Forever: Chapter 5 (a portion)

Dropping you right into the middle of the story here…..brief synopisis: Ian and Alanna are siblings, Joanne is a young French women rescued froma shipwreck, and the French are the bad guys, although Joanna is not. So….. 

-Time proceeded with out restraint, and it was more than a month after the shipwreck when Ian started his daily patrol of the hills. During the last month things had gone from bad to worse. Barrie, Todd, and their men had tried to keep it secret from their enemies that they knew anything about the French aid. But a week later the word somehow leaked out, and the fighting had been consistent. Ian had been in a few of these skirmishes, and had laid low the occasional French man. The bow was still his weapon of choice and had held up well through the clashes. His archery teacher, George Hood, had not been seen for a while.
 Apparently French dragoons had been seen patrolling the hills, decked out in a bad imitation of English dragoon uniforms. Barrie had figured that Cullen’s men and his French allies now outnumbered Todd’s friends. Especially as their casualty list had racked up to twenty dead. Already some of Todd’s friends had given up, and returned to their homes. That is, those who still had homes. The French had randomly started burning crofts around the countryside, leaving some homeless. Nonetheless, Todd had refused to give up so easily, and he was backed up by a few of the clans. The McLaifs, MacKays, Lairds, McHerits, and s were the ones that stood resolute behind the MacBrae family, they would not give up so easily.
 As Ian patrolled the hills and woods, he kept a sharp eye out for trouble. The top of a hill could conceal a French dragoon. A smattering of trees could hide a friend of Cullen. His duty was to watch out for any enemy troop movement in places where they shouldn’t be.
 Looking at the sun, he noted that he was heading west, away from his house and towards the sea. In fact, he realized that he was almost to the cliffs where he had seen the shipwreck happen a month ago. When he was less than a quarter-mile away from the cliffs, he caught site of his sister and her new friend Joanne, talking in the grass. He was surprised and worried when he saw them, he thought they knew better that to be out by themselves at this time.
 Approaching them, they looked up and Alanna started, putting her hand to her chest.
 “Och, ye scarred me!” she exclaimed, “where did ye come from?”
 Ian, looking disappointedly at her, stated, “I am patrolling the brae as I am supposed tae. Why are ye out here, alone?”
 “Well, were talking, is there a problem with that?”
 Aye,” continued Ian, ye should nae be out here at this time. Its dangerous.”
 Alanna retorted, “And what makes ye so bossy?”
 “Alanna!” exclaimed Ian authoritatively.
 She looked at her brother standing firmly in front of her, his bow and quiver slung across his back while his claymore hung from his belt that surrounded his kilt. “Alright, we shouldn’t be out here. I’m sorry.”
 Joanne had remained quiet all that time, watching the siblings talk, and no doubt trying to comprehend exactly what they were saying. She had progressed quickly in her learning of English, and could almost carry on a conversation. Now she spoke up, and said, “You walking, uh, on grass, non, hi..hill? Oui?”
 “Aye, I’ve been walking on the hills. What have ye been doing?” he smiled down at her.
 “Talk, eh… see.”
 Alanna translated, “I’ve been showing her around.”
 “Oh, I see showing her around the isl…” he paused, and listened. Then asked, “Do ye hear that?”
 “What?”
 “That drumming sound.”
 Alanna listened, then nodded, “Aye, it sounds like…”
 “Horses.” finished Ian in a whisper. “Over that hill to the east, you girls run south! I’ll distract the dragoons, because I’m sure that is who it is, French dragoons.”
He then turned and ran a little ways in a northerly direction, then stopped and looked back. Alanna had already gotten up and started running towards home, but Joanne was just standing there looking hesitantly after Alanna, then towards the sound of advancing hoof beats. Oh my gosh, thought Ian, I forgot, she’s French also! He watched with apprehension, as time seemed to stand still. But before the oncoming dragoons could top the hill, Joanne had made up her mind. And just as the dragoons did top the hill, the two young women disappeared into a clump of woods.
Then Ian realized that he was still in sight. And the dragoons saw him. Hastily he turned and ran, west. With his sword flapping at his side, Ian ran as fast as he could. Then he realized that he had trapped himself. In front of him was a small rise in the ground, which then sunk down slightly to the edge of the cliffs. He recognized this part of the cliffs to; it was the part in the shape of Italy, a peninsula of cliffs. There was no choice but to run straight, so Ian did.
The dragoons were galloping hard towards their sure prisoner, positive of his capture. They had just seen him disappear down the small rise, and know as they topped the rise they beheld their prisoner. But, much to their surprise, he was nowhere in sight. Shocked, they reigned up on their horses and scanned the small area where they had last seen him go. They even searched the area on foot, but to no avail. He was gone.

Ian breathed a sigh of relief as he dropped of the cliff side and onto the sand below. After a half hour of climbing down a cliffside, and praying not to be seen, he was exhausted. Even though the sea cliff had provided an abundance of foot and hand holds, descending had been quite a workout. He had just barely been able to disappear below the edge of the cliff before the French dragoons had arrived. As he had climbed down, he could hear them searching in frustration above him. Next time he would have to be more alert.
I hope the girls made it, Ian though worriedly. Why did Joanne nae escape tae her fellow French? She had the perfect chance. Och, it’s a good thing she did nae, she could have given away some valuable information. He pondered that as he walked down the beach, then hastily yet carefully back up to his croft. Much to his relief he didn’t see any more dragoons or foes. And when he entered the croft, he saw his family and friend sitting restlessly around the room.
But when he came through the door, his family sprang up and rushed over to see how he was doing. Barrie grabbed him by the shoulder and grinned at his son, relieved. Flora hugged him tightly, also relieved. Alanna grinned from ear to ear and hugged them all. Joanne, still sitting, just smiled and sighed thankfully.
 “Aye son, we’re bonnie glad ye’re a ‘right. We sure were anxious when the Alanna and Joanne got back and told us breathlessly what happened. What did happen?”
Ian explained, while Flora gasped occasionally in the background.
“Mother, it’s okay!” exclaimed Ian in reply to her gasps, “It’s over.”
“I ken, I ken, but its hard tae imagine ye in that danger.”
Barrie chuckled, “Aye mother, besides that is probably the most danger Ian will ever get in all at one time.”
How wrong he was.-

Kite

I had to do this in school, to come up with a poem that had a story in it, and it worked perfectly here!!! it’s about of kite, who like us, has rises and falls in life/wind. enjoy!

Kite

bring my kite to fly the breeze.

Unroll the string to catch the air,

And let the kite grab hold the wind.

And rise to take to flight against the blue.

Securely holds the wind in hand,

And rises high beyond my reach.

Unroll the string to catch more air.

The rise of confidence in me.

I flowed on breezes feeling strong,

When lack of air assures my fall.

I dip to ground and death for sure,

With certainty I see my doom.

When little by little I hear the wind,

Come rushing past and slip away.

I swiftly reach to grab at hope

And hold most tightly once I had.

More fast I climbed the blue once more,

To battle again the breeze of flight,

And feeling joy and hope at once,

Repeating conflict once again.

The Man on the Roof

i did this in school last year when asked to do an assignment to see how well we could do descriptive writing. it’s a story of a guy going through hard times and looking for hope, so then he meets this getto dude and he finds help. lol, thats it in a nutshell. here is the long version.

I do not think I will ever forget the man on the roof. My mom had just been in a car accident and I was waiting in my apartment for the doctor’s call. At last, I couldn’t stand it. I climbed to the top of my apartment building and stood near the edge.

I stood there for a while, wondering how unjust the world can be and if it’s worth living. Suddenly I heard a noise of metal scraping metal, and I whirled around. As I look back on it, I realize how dangerous my part of town was, and the risk I was taking of being on the roof was great. Nevertheless, there he stood, the man I could not forget. He had long black hair and it did not look like it was washed. His skin was rough and dirty. His eyes were dark and took in his surroundings quickly. He looked at me, and we looked at each other for several long moments. Then, I think he noticed my tears. I did not know I was crying, so deeply was I in my thoughts. He started walking toward me, and as he approached, I saw the gun sticking out of his belt and the gleam of the knives along the belt on his chest. He looked tall and forbidding. I looked in his eyes and saw something in them. Compassion? No, that was not it. It must have been knowledge, understanding of what I was going through.

He was about three strides away when he stopped. He whispered, “your living”. I was confused at first, but then I began to understand. “Your living,” he said, “and as long as you’re living, things can only go bad for a while, but keep living. For at the end, it can only get better”. I was scared, but more curious then scared. As if in answer to my thoughts, he slowly shook his head, and turned to slip over the other side of the building.

I then returned to my apartment to hear my mothers voice on the answering machine. I understood then, what the man said, and since then, I have never forgotten it.

“Eddy”

A little while ago, I though it would be fun to write a sort of comedy about a man and a ghost that befriends him. All sorts of awkward situations would naturally arive, and I though it might be something worth writing about. As is normally the case, I never finished it. But I’ll post here the little bit that I did write, and you can let me know if you think I was onto something; who knows, maybe someday I’ll finish it.

Disclaimer: I don’t actually believe in ghosts.

–I feel that I must explain the events that led my neighborhood to be spoken of with fear and apprehension. I must explain why my neighbors go around expecting to be surprised, and why many of them have grey hair now instead of brown, black, blonde, or red hair. Why even I myself never know quite what to expect. It all started in some God-forsaken “ghost” town in Nevada.

 A desert in Nevada might seem like a strange place to be in the summer, but none the less that is where I found myself one clear Augusts evening. I had been passing through Nevada on my way north to my home, and when darkness began to fall, I was still in a wide and empty desert. I don’t know the name of this desert, but it could have been the Sahara desert for all I cared, as there was no civilized place I knew of in the next 200 miles. It had been a long and tiring day, so I had no desire to continue driving. The way I figured, I could find a decent spot on the desert road and just sleep in my car.

 As I pondered this idea, I suddenly approached a small town. I call it a town, but there were only 8 or so buildings, divided equally by the road I was on. When I entered the town, I stopped and looked around curiously. The place seemed to be deserted, and the buildings looked as if they dated back to the mid 1800’s. Along with a couple of shops, the town consisted of a saloon, hotel, and livery. All of the buildings were rotting, dusty, and in general, falling apart. I turned off my car, and stepped out of it. Not a sound could be heard but my own breathing and the quite sigh of the desert wind.

 Not being a superstitious man, I decided right off that this would be as good a place as any to stay the night. Now the question was whether to lodge in one of the buildings, or my car. It was almost completely dark now, and grabbing a flashlight, entered the sturdiest looking building, the hotel.

 The first room was obviously the lobby, with the front desk all dusty and cobwebby on the left against a wall. A short hallway went directly ahead, and I followed this. I examined each room skeptically. Most of them had holes and broken objects scattered all over the floor, but I finally came to one about halfway down the hall that was fairly decent. I turned left into the room and looked around. My back was to the door and I was standing in the middle of the musty room, when I hear a sound.

 In the hallway outside, I could distinctly hear the sound of chains dragging on the floor. I froze. The sound of chains continued for 5 more seconds, then stopped. I turned around slowly. Nothing in site. Then I heard a quick rattle of chains, a whirring sound, then a rattle of chains against floorboards again. This continued for a minute, then my curiosity got the better of me. Summoning up my courage, I approached the doorway, and peered down the hall to my left. What I saw shocked me.

 Only 3 yards or so down the hallway stood a transparent, white figure. It was dressed in a long shirt that went down to the floor. The ghost, for I had no doubt it was that, had chains around its wrists, and with these chains, oh it chills me even now, it was playing jump-rope (or rather jump-chain).
When it saw me staring speechlessly at it, the ghost let the chain fall to the ground. We stared at each other for a minute, it as speechless as I. “Oh,” exclaimed the ghost, as if suddenly remembering, ,“boo.” He smiled foolishly at me, then took a step forward and held his hand forward, saying, “Shake?”. No, I would not shake, choosing instead to flee bravely down the hallway and out the door of that dusty hotel. Springing hastily into my small SUV, I broke the sound barrier multiple times as I raced off into the sunset. Anything was better than sleeping in a building with a ghost.–

The Gruff Old Man

I really loved this story, mostly ’cause it’s a really big metaphor. we, as a class in my school, are just getting into metaphors, though i knew about them long before. this class however, has taught me a lot. i realize what a noob i am! ha-ha. well, this is just some creative writing about a couch that sits in my living room. enjoy! 

The couch that sits in the living room is a gruff old man. When used, he cries out in protest, and ever threatens to lose his temper. When the kids come along and jump upon him, he stays quite, and one can only sympathize with his silent submission. However, when his lady comes, he smiles with happiness, and gladly makes room for the most comfortable spot. His lady treats him nicely, with tender care and love, and in turn, the old man gruffly gives comfort and enjoyment in exchange. However, when his lady leaves him, as she must, he seems to sag with the loss. Despair comes as he spots the children again. However, he brightens again when his lady draws near. I wonder what happens, when his lady leaves him forever. Will the lady find no more use for the poor old man? How will he live, and where will he go from here? Best not to dwell on the future. Best to live and love in the present. Therefore, I see the old man, sitting there every morning, enjoying his lady’s comfort while he can. Besides, tomorrow is a long way off.

Bo

My First

Well, here is my first post. I’m all giddy inside. Haha. Well, I decided to shoot off with one of my poems. I call it my introduction. It’s a story of a guy who’s really insecure and needs help. he is in disstress and then finds hope! I hope you like it!

staring at the roof.

I stare at the roof,

Wandering ‘bout my mind,

As I look for the proof,

That I haven’t crossed the line.

I turn my head sideways,

But I’m staring into thought,

Thinking in snide ways,

And coming out distraught.

Thinking of people in general,

And consequences of actions,

Into my mind, enter all,

Thinking in small transactions.

So getting up from my bed,

Was not an easy feat,

My heart feels like lead,

But refuses to stop it’s beat.

As my thoughts turn to things around me,

My heart still conflicts inside,

And while my mind argues soundly,

It feels like I’ve already died.

I felt utter helplessness,

And completely bereft of hope,

Surrounded by terrible hellishness,

My life rolling down a slope.

But as I walked aimlessly,

I happened upon a skylight,

Physically, emotionally, my helpless plea,

The answer, wonderf’ly in my sight.

A sliver small thought,

A hope that had been long gone,

Something I had sought,

For such a time, and aeon,

Sunlight pure and clear,

Shining into the corners,

Begone all that which was fear,

Gone inside are the mourners.

Peace now fills me up,

A sense of being whole,

Love has filled my cup,

Making diamonds out of coal.

No more sadness of mind,

Distress has all but flown,

All of such is behind,

No more do I reap what I’ve sown.

 

Bo