|--- ⇒The Paranormal Diaries⇐ ---|
Would you want to be stuck in a world of possibilities, risks and never ending outcomes?
Mecca finds herself trapped, between the fine line of realism and the mind.
-__-__-__-__-I don't know what has happened to me, it is like reality has lost it's path in my mind. My eyes project a different world from what anybody else sees, I hear everything that is not to be heard. I'm am in depth of supernatural events and i cannot get rid of them.
- Sincerely Meccare Joe Karrn-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-__-
3 Weeks Earlier...
It was summer. That warm and stingy summer. The air was dry and the mud in the paddocks seemed to crumble like overly toasted pastry.
The gravel burned and sent heat waves from the ground. Wood dust, and disintegrated pieces of bark were carried around in the mist.
'And we call this summer.' I thought to myself. I didn't want to jinx it. This was bad enough. The atmosphere was already a dull khaki brown and it's only January.
I took out my water bottle - which was now warm in a horrid fashion - and poured it over my head. A small cascade of warm water trickled down, dripping onto my sun-kissed shoulders.
As I looked up, Jenkins was sprinting down the road with a horrific look moulded to his face.
"I was going to tell you something unbelievable, but first. What are you doing?" Jenkins asked.
Jenkins Partige - The name speaks for itself. You can kind of tell his personality by the sound of his name. Jen-Kins Par-Ti-Ge.
OVERLY self-conscious, irritatingly bothersome and just plain curious. Now, you could not bugger off someone named Jenkins Partige so if you can't get rid of him. DEAL WITH HIM.
"What am I doing? Partige. I see you have a wood carving instead of a brain." I chuckled, but clearly this was not funny enough.
"Oh save your jokes and un-effective insults Meccare. They were never funny." Jenkins pointed his large sharp nose away from my face. Snob. I thought, anything to do with him.
"So what did you so badly want to tell me?" I asked, still intensely curious about the news.
"Oh but poor Meccare. I have a woodcarving instead of a brain. I poorly remember." Jenkins pulled a cheeky grin. I pulled my middle finger.
"Fine, then I shall spill." You see, Jenkins is one of those people who uses 'shall' instead of 'will do' or 'will' or 'i'll tell'.
'The neighborhoods butcher has disappeared. They say it is just a simple mistake but for you it is a big mistake. You're out of business my Meccare.' At the sound of those words, Jenkins didn't seem like such a hollow head anymore. He seemed headless now.
"Butcher? Thats the horrid news? Jenkins I'm not out of business. The old man told me how to run the shop. Oh and he would never leave his little shop, not for a million years."I said debating my own view. Which i was sure was correct.
"The thing is, Meccare. Is that the shop has closed down. Actually no, it has been broke to smithereens. Crushed, cracked and demolished." Jenkins was scaring me but i held myself, trying not to believe him, but inside my stomach was turning into a typhoon. The butcher Mr Van Gromgahlin (he was German) was probably the nicest shop owner ever. And now that my job and he is gone, there was nothing to look forward to.
The gravel burned and sent heat waves from the ground. Wood dust, and disintegrated pieces of bark were carried around in the mist.
'And we call this summer.' I thought to myself. I didn't want to jinx it. This was bad enough. The atmosphere was already a dull khaki brown and it's only January.
I took out my water bottle - which was now warm in a horrid fashion - and poured it over my head. A small cascade of warm water trickled down, dripping onto my sun-kissed shoulders.
As I looked up, Jenkins was sprinting down the road with a horrific look moulded to his face.
"I was going to tell you something unbelievable, but first. What are you doing?" Jenkins asked.
Jenkins Partige - The name speaks for itself. You can kind of tell his personality by the sound of his name. Jen-Kins Par-Ti-Ge.
OVERLY self-conscious, irritatingly bothersome and just plain curious. Now, you could not bugger off someone named Jenkins Partige so if you can't get rid of him. DEAL WITH HIM.
"What am I doing? Partige. I see you have a wood carving instead of a brain." I chuckled, but clearly this was not funny enough.
"Oh save your jokes and un-effective insults Meccare. They were never funny." Jenkins pointed his large sharp nose away from my face. Snob. I thought, anything to do with him.
"So what did you so badly want to tell me?" I asked, still intensely curious about the news.
"Oh but poor Meccare. I have a woodcarving instead of a brain. I poorly remember." Jenkins pulled a cheeky grin. I pulled my middle finger.
"Fine, then I shall spill." You see, Jenkins is one of those people who uses 'shall' instead of 'will do' or 'will' or 'i'll tell'.
'The neighborhoods butcher has disappeared. They say it is just a simple mistake but for you it is a big mistake. You're out of business my Meccare.' At the sound of those words, Jenkins didn't seem like such a hollow head anymore. He seemed headless now.
"Butcher? Thats the horrid news? Jenkins I'm not out of business. The old man told me how to run the shop. Oh and he would never leave his little shop, not for a million years."I said debating my own view. Which i was sure was correct.
"The thing is, Meccare. Is that the shop has closed down. Actually no, it has been broke to smithereens. Crushed, cracked and demolished." Jenkins was scaring me but i held myself, trying not to believe him, but inside my stomach was turning into a typhoon. The butcher Mr Van Gromgahlin (he was German) was probably the nicest shop owner ever. And now that my job and he is gone, there was nothing to look forward to.
The following week...
It is still overly stingy and sticky. There hasn't been a single droplet of rain for a fortnight. The neighborhood seems smaller to me now. Jenkins has disappeared. Which is a sincere victory, but a pity also. That 'Snoblet' was the only person who was my age that i could talk to. The others don't exist for me. So I'm alone in the murky mist of the country. The electricity went out a day ago. But of course i was the latest to find out. Jenkins wasn't there to deliver the news. Okay maybe, I AM missing him a little. Not enough to be grateful to have him back though. I haven't seen the Partige family as in Mr. Partige and Mrs. Partige for a long time. It is said that Jenkins older sister ran away to the circus. I believe it's a pile of crap. Everything is a pile of crap if it is from the Partiges. They don't know how to have fun or tell the truth.
The sun is on the brim of the horizon. It's getting icy. It feels like the clouds are piling lower and lower. Like they are building up, then dropping to the ground of earth. I feel like i have a large bundle of weight on my shoulder.
I haven't been talking much since Jenkins left. This is scaring me. I have to go find another bothersome snob to sarcastically insult.
The sun is on the brim of the horizon. It's getting icy. It feels like the clouds are piling lower and lower. Like they are building up, then dropping to the ground of earth. I feel like i have a large bundle of weight on my shoulder.
I haven't been talking much since Jenkins left. This is scaring me. I have to go find another bothersome snob to sarcastically insult.
Struck someday...
My over complex mind has made me lose comfort. This mid-summer mist must have some kind of drug enhanced in it.In theory, i should be prancing around the crisp meadow yell-singing 'Im all alo-o-o-ne, no ones is here to mo-o-o-an'
But in realism, I'm sitting on an old maroon throne in my Grandpas attic. It's humid outside. Very. And besides prancing in the middle of a green meadow as large as two-squared football fields, will make me look like a dork.
I've been on close watch of the drive. I may not be as close as i thought i was. People seem to be going on vacation because from the twenty families that live on our long, very long drive. Five have so far gone. There are only fifteen left and I'm getting suspicious. Jenkins hasn't showed up either. I'm getting depressed. Theres absolutely NOTHING to do. Going to the river all alone seems creepy. It's a shadowy place. Most of the trees are long grown Willows and thick brown Oaks. The other view is plain thick foliage. The river is only about 2 meters across. Slightly narrow really.
If you go down with the flow you will end up passing Mr. Kera's old motor home (which is half flooded) and a small waterfall only about a little more than a meter high. Not really adventurous, but i do most of my 'greatest' thinking there. Oh and it's the only place Jenkins didn't seem like a complete nut. I usually went with him, but i guess i'll have to make alternative choices.
"Mecc! Im over here!" An unknown voice called in the distance.
I turned around dramatically, I hoped it was going to be Partige but it was only Sallee. Typical.
I trudged over to her. I didn't feel like seeing her in this exact moment, but what the hell.
"Hola, Parker." I said. Trying to be enthusiastic, using my only limited knowledge of Spanish.
"Don't hunch! We have hills to do!" Sallee Parker. Not-So but yet-so determined barbie doll. Long almost white hair, freckles and toothy smile. Very round head, that would make a great soccer ball.
"Hills?" I went goggle-eyed. I don't do 'hills' i do patches and puddles, maybe little hunches. But NOT hills. Anything bigger than a medium boulder of work was out of the question.
"Hills. And Mt. Everest's's's! Com'n! Lets go to the river and clear our minds then go drive to the city!" Sallee seemed everything planned ahead already, I wasn't into the 'planned' kind of routine. Oh and Mt.Everest only has one 's' in it. Poor grammar and limited knowledge of words.
"Okay... Lets go to the pond first!" I suggested. The river was mine and Partige's. It was a secret place. I have no idea how she found out about it.
"No silly! I said the river! The one that dumbbell Jenkins goes to! The one with that ugly over flooded motor home! Maybe it will budge and stop blocking the view!" Sallee seemed out of her mind, i was on the edge of smacking her across her round face.
"First of all Sallee! If we remove the motorhome, all you will see is moss and foliage in the beyond. Oh and the river is heaps away, wouldn't want to ruin those french pants you're wearing!" I wanted to sound as enthusiastic as possibly can be. And yes, i know it seems impossible but i can be enthusiastic if i try hard. REALLY hard.
"Who cares! Lets go!"
And Sallee led the way. I never liked her invading in my privacy and special spots.
\But in realism, I'm sitting on an old maroon throne in my Grandpas attic. It's humid outside. Very. And besides prancing in the middle of a green meadow as large as two-squared football fields, will make me look like a dork.
I've been on close watch of the drive. I may not be as close as i thought i was. People seem to be going on vacation because from the twenty families that live on our long, very long drive. Five have so far gone. There are only fifteen left and I'm getting suspicious. Jenkins hasn't showed up either. I'm getting depressed. Theres absolutely NOTHING to do. Going to the river all alone seems creepy. It's a shadowy place. Most of the trees are long grown Willows and thick brown Oaks. The other view is plain thick foliage. The river is only about 2 meters across. Slightly narrow really.
If you go down with the flow you will end up passing Mr. Kera's old motor home (which is half flooded) and a small waterfall only about a little more than a meter high. Not really adventurous, but i do most of my 'greatest' thinking there. Oh and it's the only place Jenkins didn't seem like a complete nut. I usually went with him, but i guess i'll have to make alternative choices.
"Mecc! Im over here!" An unknown voice called in the distance.
I turned around dramatically, I hoped it was going to be Partige but it was only Sallee. Typical.
I trudged over to her. I didn't feel like seeing her in this exact moment, but what the hell.
"Hola, Parker." I said. Trying to be enthusiastic, using my only limited knowledge of Spanish.
"Don't hunch! We have hills to do!" Sallee Parker. Not-So but yet-so determined barbie doll. Long almost white hair, freckles and toothy smile. Very round head, that would make a great soccer ball.
"Hills?" I went goggle-eyed. I don't do 'hills' i do patches and puddles, maybe little hunches. But NOT hills. Anything bigger than a medium boulder of work was out of the question.
"Hills. And Mt. Everest's's's! Com'n! Lets go to the river and clear our minds then go drive to the city!" Sallee seemed everything planned ahead already, I wasn't into the 'planned' kind of routine. Oh and Mt.Everest only has one 's' in it. Poor grammar and limited knowledge of words.
"Okay... Lets go to the pond first!" I suggested. The river was mine and Partige's. It was a secret place. I have no idea how she found out about it.
"No silly! I said the river! The one that dumbbell Jenkins goes to! The one with that ugly over flooded motor home! Maybe it will budge and stop blocking the view!" Sallee seemed out of her mind, i was on the edge of smacking her across her round face.
"First of all Sallee! If we remove the motorhome, all you will see is moss and foliage in the beyond. Oh and the river is heaps away, wouldn't want to ruin those french pants you're wearing!" I wanted to sound as enthusiastic as possibly can be. And yes, i know it seems impossible but i can be enthusiastic if i try hard. REALLY hard.
"Who cares! Lets go!"
And Sallee led the way. I never liked her invading in my privacy and special spots.
TO BE CONTINUED.... meanwhile, what do you think will happen next? o_o
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