Post by Rovec on Feb 16, 2007 8:00:51 GMT -5
As a good portion of ya know, I love to write ^^ And very soon I'll be submitting a few stories and poems (Poems are not my greatest skill...but I take stabs at um.) to some local contests. Was hoping I could run a few by you guys and tell me what you think 
Cunstuctive critisim is welcome 
If not, just read and enjoy ^^
[glow=red,2,300]
Warning: Some of these contain cuss words. Read at thine own risk.[/glow]
“Feeling okay today, Vance?” asked a very petite little girl about eight years old as her older brother entered from the outside.
“Piss poor,” He snapped at his sister, but instantly he felt guilty and adjusted his tone of voice, “Sorry, Cecily. Been having a crappy day.”
“Vance, I can’t hear you with your rubber face on.”
“Sorry…” he replied.
After closing the mechanical pressure door behind him, Vance unclipped the mask he wore by flipping a single latch at the base of his chin. His dirty blond hair was cut short, with a small cluster of longer spikes near his ears, a common hair style that wasn’t damaged by the unnaturally wide shape of the environmentally masks. His lazy hazel eyes were dilating in an out, undoubtedly the result of some strange chemical he had recently breathed in that gave him an unwanted high. Both the mask and suit he wore were crafted from a dull grayish green rubber. However his suit was streaked with bold, bright graffiti portraying a crowned big horned owl, the symbol of the local citizen’s militia. None of this Cecily saw. Cecily had never seen anything in her life. She was born blind, one of many birth defects caused by radiation exposure.
“And you?” he asked as he pulled a stout creamy stick from his sleeve and lit it with a mini cigarette liter he removed from his breast pocket.
“My heart hurts today.” She answered with her head low. Unlike her brother, her pure blond hair was kept long. So long in fact that it fell almost to her toes. All knees and elbows, the girl was nothing much to look at, but her gleaming green eyes were wide with innocence, even if one of them was nestled into a bloated blue socket that was another tragedy of man’s ingenuity in torturing one another. Aside from her lack of sight and oversized right socket, her heart was malformed, too small even for her skin-and-bones body. Had she been any thicker, she would have died already. Vance took great care not to let little Cecily excite her heart or over work herself, for fear she may pass away prematurely.
“Had your pills?” Vance asked, yet he already knew the answer.
“Yeah, they don’t taste like cherries.”
“Bah! How would you know?” the eldest child asked with a grin as he took a long breath through his cigarette’s filter, “You’ve never had a cherry.”
“But you said cherries taste like sunshine!” she said, annoyed at her brother’s obvious memory lapse.
“False advertising huh? They should reprint those labels!”
“Yeah!”
At that he lifted her up as she giggled, a sound he thought was the only joyful noise left in the world. They both took a seat not far from their small but relatively functional television set. Cecily made a small fuss when her seemingly always forgetful brother neglected to let her turn the “noisy box” on and this forced Vance to shut the electronic machine off and let her redo the whole process. When their joint efforts did manage to get the set on and find the right news channel, they were greeted with the picture of a very large cannon.
“…Again, everyone is warned to stay inside during the firing and to stay away from any windows. The U.M.F units should retrieve most of the falling debris before it hits but there may be a few spare pieces here and there.” The news broadcasted.
“Damn…” Vance managed to croak out, “Sorry Cecily, don’t repeat that.”
“It’s a sad but amazing event Peter.” Came another voice from the set. “Using the moon itself to provide much needed materials is amazing.”
“And use what you get to make war again!” Vance yelled at the T.V then hugged his sister tightly as if to make amends for his sudden out burst.
“Will it hurt the moon?” the little angelic girl asked as one emerald eye stared into her brother’s hazel ones.
“No, no it won’t.” He whispered.
The pressurized door opened, seemingly on it’s own.
Vance set his little sister aside and stood just as two men pushed there way into the room and demanded Vance come with them.
“The count down is starting!” screamed the male news broadcaster over the noise of the cannon making ready, “This is it!”
“On the ground now!” the first cop hollered.
“Please…” Vance began to plead but was cut off. He knew why there were there, stealing medicine had become a huge offence in the last few years and his request for heart medication was rejected. Why give a dieing girl medicine when others could benefit? That’s how the doctors had argued.
In a flash one of the men was forcing Vance to the ground but the teenager wouldn’t give up easily. He squirmed out of the first man’s grasps and plowed his way into the second, only to be cornered and beaten into the wall by both of the attackers.
Cecily was crying. She couldn’t understand why these men would want to hurt her brother. She was too young to understand, but not to young to know she wanted her brother back. The only way to retaliate she could conceive was to scream. It was an ear piercing noise that echoed intensely. Vance slumped into unconsciousness after being administered a knockout drug and his last waking thoughts were ones of regret. His sister would never taste a cherry.
“Today marks the turning point for us all. No more wars, no more shelter shortages, or anyone lacking anything. Clearly, man has progressed past its early barbarism.” The TV continued.
Her chest hurt, it crawled with pain like fire and ice all at once. Cecily couldn’t grasp what had transpired but she was relentless with her screaming even after Vance was taken away. Then without warning, she stopped. There was a very faint noise like a pop or a gush of water from near her heart. The cannon fired on the television set. It was at that moment that a moon and a little girl died.
I suppose I'd best stop there Hope ya liked um.
Cunstuctive critisim is welcome 
If not, just read and enjoy ^^[glow=red,2,300]
Warning: Some of these contain cuss words. Read at thine own risk.[/glow]
Little Girls and Moons
By Aaron Awkerman
By Aaron Awkerman
“Feeling okay today, Vance?” asked a very petite little girl about eight years old as her older brother entered from the outside.
“Piss poor,” He snapped at his sister, but instantly he felt guilty and adjusted his tone of voice, “Sorry, Cecily. Been having a crappy day.”
“Vance, I can’t hear you with your rubber face on.”
“Sorry…” he replied.
After closing the mechanical pressure door behind him, Vance unclipped the mask he wore by flipping a single latch at the base of his chin. His dirty blond hair was cut short, with a small cluster of longer spikes near his ears, a common hair style that wasn’t damaged by the unnaturally wide shape of the environmentally masks. His lazy hazel eyes were dilating in an out, undoubtedly the result of some strange chemical he had recently breathed in that gave him an unwanted high. Both the mask and suit he wore were crafted from a dull grayish green rubber. However his suit was streaked with bold, bright graffiti portraying a crowned big horned owl, the symbol of the local citizen’s militia. None of this Cecily saw. Cecily had never seen anything in her life. She was born blind, one of many birth defects caused by radiation exposure.
“And you?” he asked as he pulled a stout creamy stick from his sleeve and lit it with a mini cigarette liter he removed from his breast pocket.
“My heart hurts today.” She answered with her head low. Unlike her brother, her pure blond hair was kept long. So long in fact that it fell almost to her toes. All knees and elbows, the girl was nothing much to look at, but her gleaming green eyes were wide with innocence, even if one of them was nestled into a bloated blue socket that was another tragedy of man’s ingenuity in torturing one another. Aside from her lack of sight and oversized right socket, her heart was malformed, too small even for her skin-and-bones body. Had she been any thicker, she would have died already. Vance took great care not to let little Cecily excite her heart or over work herself, for fear she may pass away prematurely.
“Had your pills?” Vance asked, yet he already knew the answer.
“Yeah, they don’t taste like cherries.”
“Bah! How would you know?” the eldest child asked with a grin as he took a long breath through his cigarette’s filter, “You’ve never had a cherry.”
“But you said cherries taste like sunshine!” she said, annoyed at her brother’s obvious memory lapse.
“False advertising huh? They should reprint those labels!”
“Yeah!”
At that he lifted her up as she giggled, a sound he thought was the only joyful noise left in the world. They both took a seat not far from their small but relatively functional television set. Cecily made a small fuss when her seemingly always forgetful brother neglected to let her turn the “noisy box” on and this forced Vance to shut the electronic machine off and let her redo the whole process. When their joint efforts did manage to get the set on and find the right news channel, they were greeted with the picture of a very large cannon.
“…Again, everyone is warned to stay inside during the firing and to stay away from any windows. The U.M.F units should retrieve most of the falling debris before it hits but there may be a few spare pieces here and there.” The news broadcasted.
“Damn…” Vance managed to croak out, “Sorry Cecily, don’t repeat that.”
“It’s a sad but amazing event Peter.” Came another voice from the set. “Using the moon itself to provide much needed materials is amazing.”
“And use what you get to make war again!” Vance yelled at the T.V then hugged his sister tightly as if to make amends for his sudden out burst.
“Will it hurt the moon?” the little angelic girl asked as one emerald eye stared into her brother’s hazel ones.
“No, no it won’t.” He whispered.
The pressurized door opened, seemingly on it’s own.
Vance set his little sister aside and stood just as two men pushed there way into the room and demanded Vance come with them.
“The count down is starting!” screamed the male news broadcaster over the noise of the cannon making ready, “This is it!”
“On the ground now!” the first cop hollered.
“Please…” Vance began to plead but was cut off. He knew why there were there, stealing medicine had become a huge offence in the last few years and his request for heart medication was rejected. Why give a dieing girl medicine when others could benefit? That’s how the doctors had argued.
In a flash one of the men was forcing Vance to the ground but the teenager wouldn’t give up easily. He squirmed out of the first man’s grasps and plowed his way into the second, only to be cornered and beaten into the wall by both of the attackers.
Cecily was crying. She couldn’t understand why these men would want to hurt her brother. She was too young to understand, but not to young to know she wanted her brother back. The only way to retaliate she could conceive was to scream. It was an ear piercing noise that echoed intensely. Vance slumped into unconsciousness after being administered a knockout drug and his last waking thoughts were ones of regret. His sister would never taste a cherry.
“Today marks the turning point for us all. No more wars, no more shelter shortages, or anyone lacking anything. Clearly, man has progressed past its early barbarism.” The TV continued.
Her chest hurt, it crawled with pain like fire and ice all at once. Cecily couldn’t grasp what had transpired but she was relentless with her screaming even after Vance was taken away. Then without warning, she stopped. There was a very faint noise like a pop or a gush of water from near her heart. The cannon fired on the television set. It was at that moment that a moon and a little girl died.
The End
To Fly
By Aaron Awkerman
I watched them soaring, flying, diving, the very apples of my eye.
They were beautiful and majestic in the skies.
I wished to follow them ever upward, but gravity I dared not defy,
Because I then noticed one rendered flightless by a shot. Oh how cruel.
Yet in my heart I said, you lucky fool.
Yes she perished but oh what a death!
If only I were brave enough, brave enough to take that step.
Courage rouse in my heart and after a deep breath,
I throw myself into the air. Ready to die.
But please, tell me. Isn’t it worth it, to fly?
By Aaron Awkerman
I watched them soaring, flying, diving, the very apples of my eye.
They were beautiful and majestic in the skies.
I wished to follow them ever upward, but gravity I dared not defy,
Because I then noticed one rendered flightless by a shot. Oh how cruel.
Yet in my heart I said, you lucky fool.
Yes she perished but oh what a death!
If only I were brave enough, brave enough to take that step.
Courage rouse in my heart and after a deep breath,
I throw myself into the air. Ready to die.
But please, tell me. Isn’t it worth it, to fly?
I suppose I'd best stop there
Hope ya liked um.
And I'll be sure to send more to ya if you are indeed interested. I can't say I've heard of the story you described, but who knows /shrug I might have read something else by the person and accidentally copied some of their style. Part of the idea actually came from Prophet