Zanna's Beginning:
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Just for reference, this isn't a happy story. I do not advise you to read on if you want a happy ending.
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I started out just as your average 13-year-old girl. My parents were both wonderful...at least, usually. My father, Charles H. Kail, was a dangerous when drunk...very dangerous. Many days when he would have a long day at work, he would visit a bar or two and spend up to three days gone from the house. Charles -I call him Charles, it may be because of what he did to me, or what I did to him- was a tall man with a large gut and unshaven face. He had a bald spot on the back of his skull that my mother always my him cover up with a hat. Despite his drinking, Charles did not have any other addictive tendencies...which was good. My mother was always there for me, always protecting me with her kind words and soothing voice. She was Japanese and although she was such a nice woman, and although she would give her life for me, the only reason she married Charles was so that she could get into the United States. Because of this, she ended stuck in this horrid life caring for her unwanted daughter and her unloved husband. Her name was Kim, or if using her full name, she would be Kimiko Cassandra Kail. Now that I have bored you with this hint of my family, let me begin with the story.
I was reborn on Christmas. How appropriate. Although it may sound wonderful and amazing, it was neither. It was dreadful and painful. The incident happened on Christmas Eve, Charles had come home, drunk to his core. He was raging about God-only-knows-what and wanted me. At the time, I was sitting as the frightened little girl on my satin sheets drying my eyes out. Now that I think of it, I have changed greatly. I am no longer that girl, as I said, I was reborn...reborn into a strong, unforgiving woman. Charles had broken through my door, sending shards of wood in every direction. I can remember it like it was yesterday, I curled in the corner of my room, may arms wrapped around my knees, my eyes clouded in terror. Never in my life had I been so afraid. Charles stalked over and yanked me up by my hair, I remember thinking about the little jeweled bird hairpin that I dropped onto the patterned red carpet. It was my grandmother's, and it was mine to protect. For some odd reason, I had been more scared for that little bird hairpin than I was for my own life.
Charles dragged me outside and threw me into the snow. I can still see my mother's crumpled body laying at the bottom of the staircase, I can still remember thinking, Why didn't she protect me...she is supposed to protect me... Which was stupid on my part, since, obviously, she was trying and she certainly didn't get rewarded in the process. My memories clouded a little between what happened after this, and well, my rebirth; but I think I can recall a little. Charles beat me to a pulp that night, out in the biting air. Every snowflake that fell pierced my bruised skin like a knife. Every time that thick hand hit my flesh, another sob, another great waft of pain. The thing that hurt the most, this pain that I will never forget, was the needle. My near-unconscious mind was foggy and uncertain, but the needle seemed to be about six inches long, and on the end, it contained a vile filled with an intoxicating green liquid. This needle punctured my skin, sunk into my bone. The last gift God ever gave me was unconsciousness. I fell into a deep, trembling sleep.
The next thing that I remember is the cold. Just the cold. It seemed to have seeped through my soul and sunk deep into the depths of my heart and mind. I have never felt anything since. When I opened my eyes, the world was brand new. Everything had changed, everything. It seemed the cold had not only seeped into me, but into the world as well. No color shined among the many obstacles that loomed in my path. All was grey...all was cold. I remember struggling helplessly into my home, but when I entered, it wasn't my home any longer. My mother...sweet Kimiko, whom I will never feel love for again, was gone. Charles was here though...I knew he was. I could just sense him. My walk had died away, it now felt as though I was simply gliding along the carpeted floor. This is that part that I wish I could forget. The part that changed me more even than my rebirth.
I found Charles on the couch on that frozen night. He was most likely sleeping away, not a hint of memory of the incident that he had put on his own daughter. His daughter! I remember every detail in depth that I wish wasn't possible. My gliding strides found me beside where he lay. I raised my head high, high enough to see every detail, every contour of his face. And then I struck. I don't know why I struck, but I remember the taste of his flesh, the taste I so desperately want to forget. Fear of what I had done didn't cloud me until much, much later. It didn't occur to me that what I had just committed...was murder. Of course, I still don't view it as just to what he did to me. I must now live in fear of myself, in fear of what I am becoming.
The story is never over for me, but it is over for you now. I must relive this, over, and over, and over. You can forget, you can continue to live. I know you are just brimming over the edge with curiosity about what I am, about what I can do. About who I am. That is not this story. This story is about my beginning. From before I knew so myself. Let the dark welcome you, like it welcomed me. Maybe then, will you finally understand.
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To make it clear, Zanna is a character. In no way is she like me, I just enjoy writing in first person :P
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The Transition:
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Since you already know Zanna, I need not explain that you will get another disappointing ending.
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Another story, another incident, another imprinted memory. This time though, it was worse. I was trying to be normal. I was trying to fit in. I wanted to fit in. Every day I was plagued with what I had done. Every minute I worried about what would become of those around me if it happened again. Something had overtaken me then, something that I couldn't explain. First, let me fill in the gap between the first time it happened and what happened in the following days.
I woke up the next morning to find Charles dead on the couch, where I had left him the night before. I remember the distinct feel of my heart caught up in my throat, the pain that came with murder. The cold still lingered on the air, but it was deeper, it was stronger, and there was the rank stench of death that lurked in the room. I ran up the stairs to my room before I tried to cry. I say tried because it never happened. I cannot cry. I promise you that I have tried, but I can't. I still wish I could. It seems that I make many wishes these days, but none come true. Long ago, I fell under the belief that Baku has cast me from his sight and into the realm of the unwanted. Into the realm of Amida. For those of you who are unintelligent on the topic of our gods, Baku is the good spirit and Amida is the god of death. Amida has controlled me since that night, but I didn't discover this simple fact until years after the transformation.
Anyways, I am sure you are curious about what happens next, so I will tell you. I stayed in that house of death until three days later when I gathered all of my mother's stored cash to buy a bus ticket. And then I left, just like that. I traveled halfway across the country to a fair-sized town in Montana. The landscaping was beautiful and as far as I could tell at that time all of the people were decent. My thirteen-year-old self was more serious than most of the teachers that I encountered. When I enrolled in school, I was tossed into the seventh grade. The first couple days ran as smooth as fresh milk, but then the popular kid asked me on a date. I froze, that was my first mistake. The second was that I accepted.
After a couple of dates, I proclaimed that I really did like him. We had fun every time, we had so many similarities. Deep within my cold, hard heart I really loved him. It happened one night when he took me out beside a wonderful lake in the moonlight. He kissed me, and I kissed him, but it went to far. Before long he came to aggression, and so did I. Fangs coiled out from my mouth, my legs melded together to form one long, scaly tail. My vision blurred and then refocused, and I remembered. It was the same way I saw when Charles had died. The same killing instinct. The same lust for blood. I could hear the boy screaming, that was when I titled my head into his neck and ended his life. It was so easy. It was so natural. I fell into my slumber again, waking with a terrible tremor in my gut. I was hungry, and there was food. And that was when I really turned to Amida.
This was the transition. From a scared little girl to a cold-hearted killer. Now, you must be closer to getting to know the real me, but I know you are still in the dark. You are still in my world, my world of darkness and deception. The story becomes more depressing and more in depth as you explore the crevices of my heart. The bumps in the road, the leaves on the trail. Throughout this long life of pain, I have found but one anchor. He is the shadow of a ghost to you, the invisible man.
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This is actually kind of fun to write :D I have never written scary/depressing/biographical stories before :P
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Jakob:
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Now, you get to meet the invisible man :D
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It was a day like any other, running scared and hopeless. I would visit the small coffee shop of my new town, I would chat with a few people, and then I would return to the forest. I had eaten my fill for the day of tender fawn's meat and I was ready to visit the town. By all accounts, it was just another day, but unless my memory is mistaken, it turned out very much different. I dawned my general pair of jeans and short-cut striped shirt. I had emerged from the edge of the forest with a graceful walk that I always used and my hair was tied up in a messy bun like always. Also, like always, I carried a five-dollar-bill in my left hand. My trip brought me to the cozy coffee shop that overlooked the eastern side of the thin paved road. The overweight owner of the shop greeted me in his usual jolly tone and began to prepare my favorite mocha before I said a word. I can remember that lying voice that I used, the voice that was pretending to be someone that I wasn't. I am not like that anymore.
After gathering up my mocha, I strolled happily over to the window seat that I always took. It sat in the corner of the room, so I could look out both windows if I liked. I never did though, I preferred to sit with my back to one side so that I could watch the door. For some reason, I was always jumpy when someone entered the room, so I preferred that I see the door. I remember it like it was yesterday, a tall, handsome boy about two years older than me pushed open the door to the coffee shop and walked in like he owned the place. This was news to me because I was here every day at the same time and he had never been here before. If memories serve, and I know they do, he exchanged over ten minutes of small talk with the Gabe, the coffee shop's owner. Then, he did something most certainly unexpected. The boy walked over and sat down opposite to me.
For a moment, I thought about my relationships. I was now a strong, beautiful sixteen-year-old girl and I had had one date, in which I had killed. Another very clear memory of this moment has stuck with me since the event. I will say it out like it happened, like we are there, watching. If I were there, I would be telling myself to be nice, but of course, that isn't me. Wasn't me.
A small smile broke my lips when he greeted me. "Hi," I replied nervously, biting my lip, "I'm Zanna..." too much. I had said to much.
"Jakob," the boy offered his hand. For a moment I had the increased impulse to extend the fangs I knew were longing to be released and sink them into his outstretched appendage. Instead, I pulled back the fangs and pushed out my own hand. The handshake felt awkward because I was lefthanded and he was obviously right. "Am I unnerving you?" A bit of a smile traced across his face as well, more of a crooked line that looked welcoming and friendly. I have remembered that smile and I love that smile, every time he beams it against my worst days, they become bright. He is my sun, my anchor, my only friend.
"No, not at all. I am just not used to very much contact," He laughed at this, that laugh I also love, but I didn't at that time. "Is something funny?" It came out as a hiss, a hiss that I would use many times over with this kinda boy.
"Gosh, calm down," He still bounced a chuckle with his voice.
"I think I'm finished." I left then, letting the very unfinished cup of coffee rest there until it became cold. I never saw Jakob make a move to follow me, but when I looked through the window, he was gone. For many days over, I had assumed that Jakob was a mere figment of my imagination, a character my mind created to ease the loneliness that racked my heart. It was only after two months that I finally came to realize he wasn't a hallucination. When I voiced my opinion on this, he had laughed, but, of course he would. I had wanted a free-spirited, careless friend and my mind had created one for me. One day, after we had spent months sharing the same coffee table, he had grabbed my hand to prove that he wasn't a hallucination. I remember him being astounded at how cold my skin was, at how scaly it felt. I had ran away, terrified and alone once again.
That was when he had followed me home. He had figured out who I was. He had died. The amazing realization that I have never gotten used to, was the fact that he had healed. The wound had sealed and his skin had become fresh and tangy once again. If you knew me, you would not question my taste in words. They are flavorful and mean much to one of tastes rather than sight. I had hugged him and tried to cry. I had voiced how I was so happy to have one like me. He understood who I was, how I could be. He has always supported me and claims he always will. I believe him.
Now, for the ending of this chapter in my life. I will finally unveil who I really am to you. I am a lost woman. A woman that wants a way out. A woman who has but one friend to cling to, but one reason to live. That is who I really am. On the outside, I may appear a monster, I may appear evil. I am both, but deep within, I am lost. You can make me out to be who you want, you can talk about my unusual ways, but to me, you are the threatening one. You are the monster. You with the skin of Amida. My skin is cold and placid, yours is burning to the touch. Even Jakob's skin, that which I have never quite gotten used to.
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Perhaps the happiest ending you will see :P
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Finally Normal
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This section is very experimental, just for a prewarning :P
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I finally decided to try school again. The town that I rested near had a small school that looked very much like the old schoolhouses that you see in western shows. Jakob had convinced me to go. He claimed that it was autumn and time to enroll. Sadly, I agreed, but what awaited me wasn't as bad as I had thought. The class was small, about fifteen kids. Although it was a small, it was very nice. All of the kids were kind and they all accepted me. There were few teachers, but they were all dedicated and they were all sympathetic to my ignorance. I hadn't had very much contact save for Jakob. The first day was a dream come true, all of the girls were wanting me to join their groups and most of the guys were looking at me in an interesting manner. I remember having a feeling of belonging, a feeling that didn't strike me too much. I sat by Jakob in every class, which made me happy. After the first day, when things still weren't unraveling, I was amazed. I blended. I really did.
That was until track came around. Then it was better than blending, I really became popular. I was faster and had more endurance, of course not as much as Jakob, though. That didn't bother me. We were special and finally treated justly. Our school competed against every school in the state. I placed first in every girls' running event, same for Jakob in boys'. No one knew how we did it, but we both became the highlight of the school. Sadly, though, I couldn't come back next year. I was almost eighteen, and I would soon have to be making my own way in life...meaning stay in the forest. Every day rolled smoothly after the next, I had assumed that I had life figured at that time. I was naive. On more than one occasion, Jakob sacrificed a hand or maybe a shoulder to my poison. Whenever I got angry he would bring me out of site and hug the evil from me. Not once did I ever think this was anything but normal.
Near the end of the year, was when another incident occurred. Looking back on my life, I find it a necessary evil, but at that time, I found it a horrifying turn of events. It had been months since I had last gotten angry and needed Jakob's comfort, but one day, one of the idiot cheerleaders had dared to insult me and try to pick a fight with me. Jakob knew what was coming, and he got to me quicker than I would have thought possible and took me away. Someone had followed us. Someone had seen me. Jakob, looking over my shoulder, had saw the boy, but he dared not breathe a word. I still found out. I killed him. I killed the boy that would reveal my secret to the whole world in the audience of Jakob. I killed him and Jakob finally saw me as the evil that I could be. I remember what he said clearly. "Zanna, I pray to God that you don't turn again, because when you do, I will not be there." He had left then, without notice to anyone. I hadn't seen him for another three years.
I had wept and wept, or rather, I tried to bring the tears that wouldn't come. I was sitting by his dead body for only minutes before the rest of the school came to see what happened. I remember their shrieks of terror, their accusations about my being a murderer. And that was when I turned from murderer to serial killer. Before the hour had passed, they were all dead. All of them, even the teachers and the kind police officers and the young, innocent grade-school kids. Before the night had ended, the entire town was dead. My killings spread like the black plague, branching out miles. I couldn't count how many innocent I had killed because Jakob wasn't their to save them. To save me.
When I woke the next morning, I was momentarily unaware of what I had done. Then the weight of it all struck me like a sledgehammer. I had murdered these people, I had erased all of these innocent lives from the earth. I made another mistake then, this one, I consider one of my greatest. I turned myself in. Of course, the authorities wouldn't believe that a seventeen-year-old orphan girl could slaughter an entire town, so they meant to put me in an insane asylum. Their plan didn't follow through. They died as well. This one was my fault, they were as innocent as any of my other victims, and I had brought this upon them. I had brought myself to them, or rather, if you like metaphors, I brought the stake to them. I lashed them to that stake and bit them and killed them. In the process, I released many potentially dangerous people onto the world. None were nearly as bad as me, but they could still do some damage. That was why they were locked up in there, right?
Well, now I must say I agree with you. I am more a monster than anyone can ever imagine. Killing all of those innocents with only the blink of an eye? Your skin may be Amida's, but my heart belongs to him. And that is by far worse. I sought out Jakob after that. I needed my friend. He was my anchor and I needed him. I needed him. I needed him. I still need him. I will not tell you if or when I found him, that will just let you have a happy...ish... ending.
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Okay, experimental turned out fairly good :D It took me a while to weave in a way to continue the story, but I did it! :P
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Searching
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I wrote this one at school during Language and Math Lab with a pencil and paper, so it may be shorter than usual. (it filled up a whole notebook page, front and back.)
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It was cold. Dreadfully cold. Winter had come to pass, and in being cold-blooded it affected me greatly. It still does. No wonder reptiles hibernate...I had been searching for Jakob nearly five months, to no avail, and I was nearly the age of 18. I had kept out of much trouble by avoiding people completely, it was demanding and lonely during that time. I needed Jakob, I needed my friend. But he wasn't there, he had abandoned me.
Many days I spent stealing into closed stores in search of even a candle for warmth. Many days I recalled the tragic story of the little match girl that I though I would end up like. Many days I wished for death. Until finally, my wish came true...sort of. I remember running. I ran, I ran from my wishes, I ran from my freedom. Looking back, I am glad I ran. That man with the gun wanted me dead, he wanted to see my blood paint the pavement. Although I ran, I did not run fast enough. Still to this day, I bear a deep scar on my forearm. It was healed, thanks to a friend to whom I will not speak their name, but that memory...that memory has chased me away from so many possibilities.
Now, I was wounded and helpless, my arm had been destroyed by the bullet and I could feel an infection stirring in my blood. Night after night I would curl up and choke out my invisible tears. Night after night, I would wish for Jakob. Why did I have to drive him away? One night, when all hope was lost, I screamed out his name into the darkness. Hallucinations took me at that night, I was raving and mad. And dangerous. I wanted Jakob. I needed Jakob.
Red vines had crawled up my arms and were nearing my heart. I knew that when they reached that cold rock inside my breast, I would die. Why did I have to remember only the terrible things? Why did this fog of disorientation block my sense, block my mind, but let my terrible memories roam free? Funny how one's life passes. Even now I can end anyone with the flick of my tail. The blink of my eye. Oh, how the world turns!
That very next morning when I woke, I felt fresh and overwhelmed with rational thoughts. Those soon ended. I had pulled off my shirt to reveal that the red vines had reached fractions from my death. Desperation took me then, took me away. I curled in a ball, my body rocked back and forth, trying to remove the pain that was biting my flesh. I screamed. I screamed until my voice cracked and my throat felt as if it was going to split. Amida's evil grace. He lead a kind young man to my rescue, to rescue me and prolong my suffering in this dangerous and brutal world.
As far as I can remember through my dizziness, he must have been in his early twenties or late teens. He was a good man, that was for sure. When he saw the girl curled on the pavement with infection and death written over her bare torso, he did not stop to think. He dropped his things and ran over to me. I remember the slight comfort I felt when he pulled my plain cotton shirt over my head. I remember the wonderful feeling that I had when he told me everything was going to be okay. When he picked me up and cradled me like a baby. Then, he saved me. That is all I know other than what follows.
I woke to an ecstatic nurse smiling ear to ear because I was going to make a full recovery, save for a few scars. She went on about how all the doctors said that it was impossible but it happened over a period of three days, like a miracle. She also told me her name was Carol. Carol said that I should thank a very odd boy that was staying in the lounge because he saved me. She said that he gave me a transfusion of his blood and I healed. I remember when she was saying this that I only had one name that stuck to my mind and clung on like a parasite. Jakob.
Carol said that he was waiting for me. That he wanted to see me. My spirits rose...did I actually find Jakob? After all this time? Later I found that she was lying. The boy in the lounge, for whom I will not reveal, did not want to see me. He wanted leave, but Carol made him stay. I came to love that energetic, optimistic way of hers. The look of her fuzzy red hair brimming over her thick-rimmed glasses. I remember her so well because she took me in. Yes, she adopted me, the monster. The daughter of Amida. I am proud to say that she was never hurt. I am betting you want to here about Jakob, right? Well, guess what? No. You decided to read the story of the monster, so you get to suffer like I have suffered...but not nearly as terrible.
Now, you have been wondering what I am, and I will try to tell you soon. I am not trying to be evil, I simply am. Who a person is in encrypted within their very soul, and you can never change anyone, no matter how hard you try. You are also wondering if Jakob is the boy in the lounge? I will not reveal to you the answer of that either. Curiosity breeds courage, and courage breeds success.
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I told that one a little differently. Used a bit of present-tense in there. :P I hope it was satisfactory :D
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Changed
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Another one I scrapped up during Study Hall :P
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Carol convinced the doctors to finally let me visit the lounge. It took around and hour, but at that time, I was positive that if it was Jakob, he would wait. What I saw when I came into the lounge was something I would never expect. Something that totally blew me from my mind and into the unknown. Standing in the corner of the cozy little room was Jakob. His back was to me, but I was sure it was him because the way he was standing. A soft voice could be heard, of course, he was talking to the fish. Good old Jakob, he is still like that. His hair was grown half-way down to his shoulder, instead of cropped short, and he stood another good six inches taller than he had when I had seen him last.
When he turned, his face was different. His cheekbones were more prominent and his mouth displayed a heavy scowl that I had never experienced before. When my eyes met his, my heart fell plummeting. He no longer held the playful sparkle that would warm my most dreadful hour, it had been clouded over by sorrow and seriousness. My smile that I was showing off, just for him, disappeared into a disappointed frown.
I had whispered his name, and it had sounded as if I was in a tomb. Those two syllables mixed into a perfect melody that bounced off of the walls and echoed through the room. Then, before my eyes, Jakob started to cry. Tears leaked from those deep wells and made their paths down his cheeks. And then we were hugging each other. Hugging and kissing, it had been so long. I would never have dreamed to kiss Jakob, but it just happened, and it wasn't romantic. Not in the least. I felt warmth tear through my body and run through my veins in a great fury, deep into the cradle of my heart. It was a sensational moment. One that I will never forget.
I was healed then, I was healed for life. I am healed now. Just that one simple kiss from Jakob and it made everything better. I can control my talent now, and I have no more fear. Yes, I called it a talent, because it is. I am stronger now than any curse that could ever be met, and this thing that happened to me, only strengthens me. It all ended that day in the hospital, I will not bore you with the conversation, but Jakob and I had a long talk concerning what had happened. He had forgiven me and explained the gift that he had bestowed upon me. Along with casting away the spirit of Amida, he had brought me eternal life that I have now. I am not saying that we have never been upon bad times, but I have never again given in to my power. I am no longer emotional and instinctual, I am stronger. I am a cobra. I, am Zanna Cassandra Kail.
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I liked this one, I know it doesn't follow with my unhappy endings, but I think that a good story always has a happy ending. I hope you like it :D
Comment if you like!
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Just for reference, this isn't a happy story. I do not advise you to read on if you want a happy ending.
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I started out just as your average 13-year-old girl. My parents were both wonderful...at least, usually. My father, Charles H. Kail, was a dangerous when drunk...very dangerous. Many days when he would have a long day at work, he would visit a bar or two and spend up to three days gone from the house. Charles -I call him Charles, it may be because of what he did to me, or what I did to him- was a tall man with a large gut and unshaven face. He had a bald spot on the back of his skull that my mother always my him cover up with a hat. Despite his drinking, Charles did not have any other addictive tendencies...which was good. My mother was always there for me, always protecting me with her kind words and soothing voice. She was Japanese and although she was such a nice woman, and although she would give her life for me, the only reason she married Charles was so that she could get into the United States. Because of this, she ended stuck in this horrid life caring for her unwanted daughter and her unloved husband. Her name was Kim, or if using her full name, she would be Kimiko Cassandra Kail. Now that I have bored you with this hint of my family, let me begin with the story.
I was reborn on Christmas. How appropriate. Although it may sound wonderful and amazing, it was neither. It was dreadful and painful. The incident happened on Christmas Eve, Charles had come home, drunk to his core. He was raging about God-only-knows-what and wanted me. At the time, I was sitting as the frightened little girl on my satin sheets drying my eyes out. Now that I think of it, I have changed greatly. I am no longer that girl, as I said, I was reborn...reborn into a strong, unforgiving woman. Charles had broken through my door, sending shards of wood in every direction. I can remember it like it was yesterday, I curled in the corner of my room, may arms wrapped around my knees, my eyes clouded in terror. Never in my life had I been so afraid. Charles stalked over and yanked me up by my hair, I remember thinking about the little jeweled bird hairpin that I dropped onto the patterned red carpet. It was my grandmother's, and it was mine to protect. For some odd reason, I had been more scared for that little bird hairpin than I was for my own life.
Charles dragged me outside and threw me into the snow. I can still see my mother's crumpled body laying at the bottom of the staircase, I can still remember thinking, Why didn't she protect me...she is supposed to protect me... Which was stupid on my part, since, obviously, she was trying and she certainly didn't get rewarded in the process. My memories clouded a little between what happened after this, and well, my rebirth; but I think I can recall a little. Charles beat me to a pulp that night, out in the biting air. Every snowflake that fell pierced my bruised skin like a knife. Every time that thick hand hit my flesh, another sob, another great waft of pain. The thing that hurt the most, this pain that I will never forget, was the needle. My near-unconscious mind was foggy and uncertain, but the needle seemed to be about six inches long, and on the end, it contained a vile filled with an intoxicating green liquid. This needle punctured my skin, sunk into my bone. The last gift God ever gave me was unconsciousness. I fell into a deep, trembling sleep.
The next thing that I remember is the cold. Just the cold. It seemed to have seeped through my soul and sunk deep into the depths of my heart and mind. I have never felt anything since. When I opened my eyes, the world was brand new. Everything had changed, everything. It seemed the cold had not only seeped into me, but into the world as well. No color shined among the many obstacles that loomed in my path. All was grey...all was cold. I remember struggling helplessly into my home, but when I entered, it wasn't my home any longer. My mother...sweet Kimiko, whom I will never feel love for again, was gone. Charles was here though...I knew he was. I could just sense him. My walk had died away, it now felt as though I was simply gliding along the carpeted floor. This is that part that I wish I could forget. The part that changed me more even than my rebirth.
I found Charles on the couch on that frozen night. He was most likely sleeping away, not a hint of memory of the incident that he had put on his own daughter. His daughter! I remember every detail in depth that I wish wasn't possible. My gliding strides found me beside where he lay. I raised my head high, high enough to see every detail, every contour of his face. And then I struck. I don't know why I struck, but I remember the taste of his flesh, the taste I so desperately want to forget. Fear of what I had done didn't cloud me until much, much later. It didn't occur to me that what I had just committed...was murder. Of course, I still don't view it as just to what he did to me. I must now live in fear of myself, in fear of what I am becoming.
The story is never over for me, but it is over for you now. I must relive this, over, and over, and over. You can forget, you can continue to live. I know you are just brimming over the edge with curiosity about what I am, about what I can do. About who I am. That is not this story. This story is about my beginning. From before I knew so myself. Let the dark welcome you, like it welcomed me. Maybe then, will you finally understand.
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To make it clear, Zanna is a character. In no way is she like me, I just enjoy writing in first person :P
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The Transition:
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Since you already know Zanna, I need not explain that you will get another disappointing ending.
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Another story, another incident, another imprinted memory. This time though, it was worse. I was trying to be normal. I was trying to fit in. I wanted to fit in. Every day I was plagued with what I had done. Every minute I worried about what would become of those around me if it happened again. Something had overtaken me then, something that I couldn't explain. First, let me fill in the gap between the first time it happened and what happened in the following days.
I woke up the next morning to find Charles dead on the couch, where I had left him the night before. I remember the distinct feel of my heart caught up in my throat, the pain that came with murder. The cold still lingered on the air, but it was deeper, it was stronger, and there was the rank stench of death that lurked in the room. I ran up the stairs to my room before I tried to cry. I say tried because it never happened. I cannot cry. I promise you that I have tried, but I can't. I still wish I could. It seems that I make many wishes these days, but none come true. Long ago, I fell under the belief that Baku has cast me from his sight and into the realm of the unwanted. Into the realm of Amida. For those of you who are unintelligent on the topic of our gods, Baku is the good spirit and Amida is the god of death. Amida has controlled me since that night, but I didn't discover this simple fact until years after the transformation.
Anyways, I am sure you are curious about what happens next, so I will tell you. I stayed in that house of death until three days later when I gathered all of my mother's stored cash to buy a bus ticket. And then I left, just like that. I traveled halfway across the country to a fair-sized town in Montana. The landscaping was beautiful and as far as I could tell at that time all of the people were decent. My thirteen-year-old self was more serious than most of the teachers that I encountered. When I enrolled in school, I was tossed into the seventh grade. The first couple days ran as smooth as fresh milk, but then the popular kid asked me on a date. I froze, that was my first mistake. The second was that I accepted.
After a couple of dates, I proclaimed that I really did like him. We had fun every time, we had so many similarities. Deep within my cold, hard heart I really loved him. It happened one night when he took me out beside a wonderful lake in the moonlight. He kissed me, and I kissed him, but it went to far. Before long he came to aggression, and so did I. Fangs coiled out from my mouth, my legs melded together to form one long, scaly tail. My vision blurred and then refocused, and I remembered. It was the same way I saw when Charles had died. The same killing instinct. The same lust for blood. I could hear the boy screaming, that was when I titled my head into his neck and ended his life. It was so easy. It was so natural. I fell into my slumber again, waking with a terrible tremor in my gut. I was hungry, and there was food. And that was when I really turned to Amida.
This was the transition. From a scared little girl to a cold-hearted killer. Now, you must be closer to getting to know the real me, but I know you are still in the dark. You are still in my world, my world of darkness and deception. The story becomes more depressing and more in depth as you explore the crevices of my heart. The bumps in the road, the leaves on the trail. Throughout this long life of pain, I have found but one anchor. He is the shadow of a ghost to you, the invisible man.
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This is actually kind of fun to write :D I have never written scary/depressing/biographical stories before :P
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Jakob:
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Now, you get to meet the invisible man :D
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It was a day like any other, running scared and hopeless. I would visit the small coffee shop of my new town, I would chat with a few people, and then I would return to the forest. I had eaten my fill for the day of tender fawn's meat and I was ready to visit the town. By all accounts, it was just another day, but unless my memory is mistaken, it turned out very much different. I dawned my general pair of jeans and short-cut striped shirt. I had emerged from the edge of the forest with a graceful walk that I always used and my hair was tied up in a messy bun like always. Also, like always, I carried a five-dollar-bill in my left hand. My trip brought me to the cozy coffee shop that overlooked the eastern side of the thin paved road. The overweight owner of the shop greeted me in his usual jolly tone and began to prepare my favorite mocha before I said a word. I can remember that lying voice that I used, the voice that was pretending to be someone that I wasn't. I am not like that anymore.
After gathering up my mocha, I strolled happily over to the window seat that I always took. It sat in the corner of the room, so I could look out both windows if I liked. I never did though, I preferred to sit with my back to one side so that I could watch the door. For some reason, I was always jumpy when someone entered the room, so I preferred that I see the door. I remember it like it was yesterday, a tall, handsome boy about two years older than me pushed open the door to the coffee shop and walked in like he owned the place. This was news to me because I was here every day at the same time and he had never been here before. If memories serve, and I know they do, he exchanged over ten minutes of small talk with the Gabe, the coffee shop's owner. Then, he did something most certainly unexpected. The boy walked over and sat down opposite to me.
For a moment, I thought about my relationships. I was now a strong, beautiful sixteen-year-old girl and I had had one date, in which I had killed. Another very clear memory of this moment has stuck with me since the event. I will say it out like it happened, like we are there, watching. If I were there, I would be telling myself to be nice, but of course, that isn't me. Wasn't me.
A small smile broke my lips when he greeted me. "Hi," I replied nervously, biting my lip, "I'm Zanna..." too much. I had said to much.
"Jakob," the boy offered his hand. For a moment I had the increased impulse to extend the fangs I knew were longing to be released and sink them into his outstretched appendage. Instead, I pulled back the fangs and pushed out my own hand. The handshake felt awkward because I was lefthanded and he was obviously right. "Am I unnerving you?" A bit of a smile traced across his face as well, more of a crooked line that looked welcoming and friendly. I have remembered that smile and I love that smile, every time he beams it against my worst days, they become bright. He is my sun, my anchor, my only friend.
"No, not at all. I am just not used to very much contact," He laughed at this, that laugh I also love, but I didn't at that time. "Is something funny?" It came out as a hiss, a hiss that I would use many times over with this kinda boy.
"Gosh, calm down," He still bounced a chuckle with his voice.
"I think I'm finished." I left then, letting the very unfinished cup of coffee rest there until it became cold. I never saw Jakob make a move to follow me, but when I looked through the window, he was gone. For many days over, I had assumed that Jakob was a mere figment of my imagination, a character my mind created to ease the loneliness that racked my heart. It was only after two months that I finally came to realize he wasn't a hallucination. When I voiced my opinion on this, he had laughed, but, of course he would. I had wanted a free-spirited, careless friend and my mind had created one for me. One day, after we had spent months sharing the same coffee table, he had grabbed my hand to prove that he wasn't a hallucination. I remember him being astounded at how cold my skin was, at how scaly it felt. I had ran away, terrified and alone once again.
That was when he had followed me home. He had figured out who I was. He had died. The amazing realization that I have never gotten used to, was the fact that he had healed. The wound had sealed and his skin had become fresh and tangy once again. If you knew me, you would not question my taste in words. They are flavorful and mean much to one of tastes rather than sight. I had hugged him and tried to cry. I had voiced how I was so happy to have one like me. He understood who I was, how I could be. He has always supported me and claims he always will. I believe him.
Now, for the ending of this chapter in my life. I will finally unveil who I really am to you. I am a lost woman. A woman that wants a way out. A woman who has but one friend to cling to, but one reason to live. That is who I really am. On the outside, I may appear a monster, I may appear evil. I am both, but deep within, I am lost. You can make me out to be who you want, you can talk about my unusual ways, but to me, you are the threatening one. You are the monster. You with the skin of Amida. My skin is cold and placid, yours is burning to the touch. Even Jakob's skin, that which I have never quite gotten used to.
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Perhaps the happiest ending you will see :P
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Finally Normal
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This section is very experimental, just for a prewarning :P
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I finally decided to try school again. The town that I rested near had a small school that looked very much like the old schoolhouses that you see in western shows. Jakob had convinced me to go. He claimed that it was autumn and time to enroll. Sadly, I agreed, but what awaited me wasn't as bad as I had thought. The class was small, about fifteen kids. Although it was a small, it was very nice. All of the kids were kind and they all accepted me. There were few teachers, but they were all dedicated and they were all sympathetic to my ignorance. I hadn't had very much contact save for Jakob. The first day was a dream come true, all of the girls were wanting me to join their groups and most of the guys were looking at me in an interesting manner. I remember having a feeling of belonging, a feeling that didn't strike me too much. I sat by Jakob in every class, which made me happy. After the first day, when things still weren't unraveling, I was amazed. I blended. I really did.
That was until track came around. Then it was better than blending, I really became popular. I was faster and had more endurance, of course not as much as Jakob, though. That didn't bother me. We were special and finally treated justly. Our school competed against every school in the state. I placed first in every girls' running event, same for Jakob in boys'. No one knew how we did it, but we both became the highlight of the school. Sadly, though, I couldn't come back next year. I was almost eighteen, and I would soon have to be making my own way in life...meaning stay in the forest. Every day rolled smoothly after the next, I had assumed that I had life figured at that time. I was naive. On more than one occasion, Jakob sacrificed a hand or maybe a shoulder to my poison. Whenever I got angry he would bring me out of site and hug the evil from me. Not once did I ever think this was anything but normal.
Near the end of the year, was when another incident occurred. Looking back on my life, I find it a necessary evil, but at that time, I found it a horrifying turn of events. It had been months since I had last gotten angry and needed Jakob's comfort, but one day, one of the idiot cheerleaders had dared to insult me and try to pick a fight with me. Jakob knew what was coming, and he got to me quicker than I would have thought possible and took me away. Someone had followed us. Someone had seen me. Jakob, looking over my shoulder, had saw the boy, but he dared not breathe a word. I still found out. I killed him. I killed the boy that would reveal my secret to the whole world in the audience of Jakob. I killed him and Jakob finally saw me as the evil that I could be. I remember what he said clearly. "Zanna, I pray to God that you don't turn again, because when you do, I will not be there." He had left then, without notice to anyone. I hadn't seen him for another three years.
I had wept and wept, or rather, I tried to bring the tears that wouldn't come. I was sitting by his dead body for only minutes before the rest of the school came to see what happened. I remember their shrieks of terror, their accusations about my being a murderer. And that was when I turned from murderer to serial killer. Before the hour had passed, they were all dead. All of them, even the teachers and the kind police officers and the young, innocent grade-school kids. Before the night had ended, the entire town was dead. My killings spread like the black plague, branching out miles. I couldn't count how many innocent I had killed because Jakob wasn't their to save them. To save me.
When I woke the next morning, I was momentarily unaware of what I had done. Then the weight of it all struck me like a sledgehammer. I had murdered these people, I had erased all of these innocent lives from the earth. I made another mistake then, this one, I consider one of my greatest. I turned myself in. Of course, the authorities wouldn't believe that a seventeen-year-old orphan girl could slaughter an entire town, so they meant to put me in an insane asylum. Their plan didn't follow through. They died as well. This one was my fault, they were as innocent as any of my other victims, and I had brought this upon them. I had brought myself to them, or rather, if you like metaphors, I brought the stake to them. I lashed them to that stake and bit them and killed them. In the process, I released many potentially dangerous people onto the world. None were nearly as bad as me, but they could still do some damage. That was why they were locked up in there, right?
Well, now I must say I agree with you. I am more a monster than anyone can ever imagine. Killing all of those innocents with only the blink of an eye? Your skin may be Amida's, but my heart belongs to him. And that is by far worse. I sought out Jakob after that. I needed my friend. He was my anchor and I needed him. I needed him. I needed him. I still need him. I will not tell you if or when I found him, that will just let you have a happy...ish... ending.
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Okay, experimental turned out fairly good :D It took me a while to weave in a way to continue the story, but I did it! :P
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Searching
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I wrote this one at school during Language and Math Lab with a pencil and paper, so it may be shorter than usual. (it filled up a whole notebook page, front and back.)
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It was cold. Dreadfully cold. Winter had come to pass, and in being cold-blooded it affected me greatly. It still does. No wonder reptiles hibernate...I had been searching for Jakob nearly five months, to no avail, and I was nearly the age of 18. I had kept out of much trouble by avoiding people completely, it was demanding and lonely during that time. I needed Jakob, I needed my friend. But he wasn't there, he had abandoned me.
Many days I spent stealing into closed stores in search of even a candle for warmth. Many days I recalled the tragic story of the little match girl that I though I would end up like. Many days I wished for death. Until finally, my wish came true...sort of. I remember running. I ran, I ran from my wishes, I ran from my freedom. Looking back, I am glad I ran. That man with the gun wanted me dead, he wanted to see my blood paint the pavement. Although I ran, I did not run fast enough. Still to this day, I bear a deep scar on my forearm. It was healed, thanks to a friend to whom I will not speak their name, but that memory...that memory has chased me away from so many possibilities.
Now, I was wounded and helpless, my arm had been destroyed by the bullet and I could feel an infection stirring in my blood. Night after night I would curl up and choke out my invisible tears. Night after night, I would wish for Jakob. Why did I have to drive him away? One night, when all hope was lost, I screamed out his name into the darkness. Hallucinations took me at that night, I was raving and mad. And dangerous. I wanted Jakob. I needed Jakob.
Red vines had crawled up my arms and were nearing my heart. I knew that when they reached that cold rock inside my breast, I would die. Why did I have to remember only the terrible things? Why did this fog of disorientation block my sense, block my mind, but let my terrible memories roam free? Funny how one's life passes. Even now I can end anyone with the flick of my tail. The blink of my eye. Oh, how the world turns!
That very next morning when I woke, I felt fresh and overwhelmed with rational thoughts. Those soon ended. I had pulled off my shirt to reveal that the red vines had reached fractions from my death. Desperation took me then, took me away. I curled in a ball, my body rocked back and forth, trying to remove the pain that was biting my flesh. I screamed. I screamed until my voice cracked and my throat felt as if it was going to split. Amida's evil grace. He lead a kind young man to my rescue, to rescue me and prolong my suffering in this dangerous and brutal world.
As far as I can remember through my dizziness, he must have been in his early twenties or late teens. He was a good man, that was for sure. When he saw the girl curled on the pavement with infection and death written over her bare torso, he did not stop to think. He dropped his things and ran over to me. I remember the slight comfort I felt when he pulled my plain cotton shirt over my head. I remember the wonderful feeling that I had when he told me everything was going to be okay. When he picked me up and cradled me like a baby. Then, he saved me. That is all I know other than what follows.
I woke to an ecstatic nurse smiling ear to ear because I was going to make a full recovery, save for a few scars. She went on about how all the doctors said that it was impossible but it happened over a period of three days, like a miracle. She also told me her name was Carol. Carol said that I should thank a very odd boy that was staying in the lounge because he saved me. She said that he gave me a transfusion of his blood and I healed. I remember when she was saying this that I only had one name that stuck to my mind and clung on like a parasite. Jakob.
Carol said that he was waiting for me. That he wanted to see me. My spirits rose...did I actually find Jakob? After all this time? Later I found that she was lying. The boy in the lounge, for whom I will not reveal, did not want to see me. He wanted leave, but Carol made him stay. I came to love that energetic, optimistic way of hers. The look of her fuzzy red hair brimming over her thick-rimmed glasses. I remember her so well because she took me in. Yes, she adopted me, the monster. The daughter of Amida. I am proud to say that she was never hurt. I am betting you want to here about Jakob, right? Well, guess what? No. You decided to read the story of the monster, so you get to suffer like I have suffered...but not nearly as terrible.
Now, you have been wondering what I am, and I will try to tell you soon. I am not trying to be evil, I simply am. Who a person is in encrypted within their very soul, and you can never change anyone, no matter how hard you try. You are also wondering if Jakob is the boy in the lounge? I will not reveal to you the answer of that either. Curiosity breeds courage, and courage breeds success.
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I told that one a little differently. Used a bit of present-tense in there. :P I hope it was satisfactory :D
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Changed
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Another one I scrapped up during Study Hall :P
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Carol convinced the doctors to finally let me visit the lounge. It took around and hour, but at that time, I was positive that if it was Jakob, he would wait. What I saw when I came into the lounge was something I would never expect. Something that totally blew me from my mind and into the unknown. Standing in the corner of the cozy little room was Jakob. His back was to me, but I was sure it was him because the way he was standing. A soft voice could be heard, of course, he was talking to the fish. Good old Jakob, he is still like that. His hair was grown half-way down to his shoulder, instead of cropped short, and he stood another good six inches taller than he had when I had seen him last.
When he turned, his face was different. His cheekbones were more prominent and his mouth displayed a heavy scowl that I had never experienced before. When my eyes met his, my heart fell plummeting. He no longer held the playful sparkle that would warm my most dreadful hour, it had been clouded over by sorrow and seriousness. My smile that I was showing off, just for him, disappeared into a disappointed frown.
I had whispered his name, and it had sounded as if I was in a tomb. Those two syllables mixed into a perfect melody that bounced off of the walls and echoed through the room. Then, before my eyes, Jakob started to cry. Tears leaked from those deep wells and made their paths down his cheeks. And then we were hugging each other. Hugging and kissing, it had been so long. I would never have dreamed to kiss Jakob, but it just happened, and it wasn't romantic. Not in the least. I felt warmth tear through my body and run through my veins in a great fury, deep into the cradle of my heart. It was a sensational moment. One that I will never forget.
I was healed then, I was healed for life. I am healed now. Just that one simple kiss from Jakob and it made everything better. I can control my talent now, and I have no more fear. Yes, I called it a talent, because it is. I am stronger now than any curse that could ever be met, and this thing that happened to me, only strengthens me. It all ended that day in the hospital, I will not bore you with the conversation, but Jakob and I had a long talk concerning what had happened. He had forgiven me and explained the gift that he had bestowed upon me. Along with casting away the spirit of Amida, he had brought me eternal life that I have now. I am not saying that we have never been upon bad times, but I have never again given in to my power. I am no longer emotional and instinctual, I am stronger. I am a cobra. I, am Zanna Cassandra Kail.
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I liked this one, I know it doesn't follow with my unhappy endings, but I think that a good story always has a happy ending. I hope you like it :D
Comment if you like!
