Monday, 6 August 2012

Ride the fear

     Sometimes I find myself terrified, terrified that I will be here in the town I was born in forever, working behind the reception forever and it is not because I don’t love my life at the moment it is because when I think of note fulfilling my dream it scares me. This will happen to everyone because dreams are hard to come by, they are an endangered species and they are extremely hard to cage; whether you’re a writer, artist or singer it’s not easy and I am not afraid to say that I sometimes wonder f it will ever happen but I never give up because I have found that the fear only makes your work harder, imagine all of the publishers and agents who are kicking themselves for not taking on J.K.Rowling and Harry potter. Not giving up is key just because one, two or even ten people don’t like what you’re doing it does not mean that it is not good, I’m sat here now, I haven’t written in days because of work and I keep catching the CAPS Lock key but I don’t care because I love it, I love to write and one day I will be getting paid to do what I love. Don’t let the fear disable you and don’t just ‘follow’ your dream chase them and grab a hold and don’t let go. Be confident in what you are doing, in yourself people may look at me and think ‘wow someone really thinks she great’ but if I’m not confident then how can I expect anyone else to be, being positive is what it’s about.
     I have my first rejection letter framed on the wall, why? Because it makes me work harder, I look at it and I think ‘one day they will regret rejecting me’ you don’t let anyone who doesn’t have the same dream as you tell you that you cannot do it. I sit and I watch people on their way to work, to sit in an office all day and I wonder what happened to their dreams, did they die or maybe they just ran away, ran too fast for them, maybe they just gave up. It makes me sad, in think people forget that they had dreams and so it does not bother them, their dreams might change into something more reachable. I won’t do that, the fear of a mundane life won’t let me, I will be who I want to be, who I see myself being. I guess what I am saying is you can never be too confident in yourself, ride the fear and get your work out there for everyone to look upon, don’t let your dreams waste away, they are the most important things in the world, make sure they thrive.

Run, run as fast as you can...

I won’t lie to you all when I first started to write this I wanted to show you all something, something about the nature of man, the evil that exists with-in us all, some of us over come this evil the good with-in if much stronger, in some the evil is nurtured by those around us, our environment, some like me fall into evil when all good has abandoned us and some are simply born without good, pure evil. That’s how it started, then it evolved into some form of confession and now it is simply an account of the evil I do. I am no longer fighting it, I have lain in the bed of evil, curled up, snuggled in and settled and I shall not be climb out again. so what follows will be blood, it will be dark and I shall not apologise for it.         I have become fascinated with the female detective investigating my ‘horrific’ crimes, I watched at night and thought my in-human body no longer requires sleep I find myself drifting off and dreaming of her golden hair. It is not love that I am feeling, I know this, I am no longer capable of love, what I am feeling is obsession, it may even be lust. I find myself wondering what her flesh would taste like, buttery and sweet, like crumpets straight from the toaster, the butter melting, seeping through the bottom, she makes my mouth water. In desperate need to see her, to watch the gears of her mind tick, tick away as she wonders about me, I find myself prowling the streets not just for food, I watch the streets, the apartment blocks, the houses. Watch and wait until I find someone deserving enough and then I find someone or rather a group of ‘someone’s’. As I walk down the street I spot a group of young men harassing a woman, I knew what was on their mind, I could smell it and I could smell the fear pricking her skin. At first I was going to simply walk on by but then I saw a glimmer, caught the shine of a silver blade in the corner of my eye and that stopped me dead in my tracks; there was no way this woman was leaving the night alive.
     There is a small amount of humanity that urns just beneath the darkness with-in me and that’s why I walked up to them, my face blank, the fog that had hung in the air seemed to descend and thicken, I looked as a spectre would moving through the streets of smog covered 50’s London. I startled them, at first they looked as though they were unsure I was real or not and then they acted, the woman was thrown back and gagged by the hand of a man I could not quite see, and then I was confronted by the three others one stood slightly further forward then the others holding the knife, the alpha.
“move on” he growled holding the knife forward ensuring I had seen it, I had and it made no difference to me, I would snap the blade and then  would snap his neck. I move forward and he signalled for the two men flanking him to make their move a grin spread across my face and I think then even he realised though he made no move to stop his men and no move as my fist connected with one man’s jaw, the crack was audible it rang down the alleyway and out into the street, his face looked as though it had been twisted, I ripped the broken jaw from his face and as he began to pass out from the agony I broke his neck letting his body slump to the floor with-in the shadows, the other two men had run and so I turned my attention to the Alpha who was now holding the woman as some form of protection, the woman was screaming behind the hand clamped over her mouth not in fear of the knife held against her throat but instead from the horror of what she had just seen me do, I ignored her,
“I will slit her throat if you don’t let me walk out of her with her, you sick fucker” he spat the words at me, he seemed to hold no sadness for his fallen friend, this man was like me cold and dead inside, he had no soul his only though at that moment was survival unfortunately mine was not and I was not going to let him walk away with the woman nor was I going to let him leave the alleyway alive.
     I made my move before he made his, my palm grapes the blade of the knife, snapping it, we both let go letting it fall to the floor with a tinkle; next my palm was around his throat, his hands fell from the woman, she stood frozen in fear of me,
“Run” I hissed, the words jolted her to life and she took off down the alleyway and into the light of the street lamps, “Run, run as fast as you can…” I yelled after her a wide grin on my face, “…but you won’t out run me I’m the bloody bogey man” I hissed in the ear of the man I held by the throat before I ripped it out, I held his windpipe in my hand for a few seconds as I watched the life leave his body and then I used my own switch blade, the handle set with human bone, to carve as much as I could carry before I left them and returned home.
      I chose not to watch the crime scene, to wait for her and instead simply read of the murder’s in the newspapers over the next few days. The woman I had let go had given the m a description of me, an image had been drawn up, it did not look like me; I find myself wondering if she lied, I knew that she had looked upon my face, a face that would have been burned into her mind and so I wonder if she lied to keep me safe because I saved her, humanity is a confusing thing. Though she did tell the police something, something that the newspapers know and that now the whole world will know, my name, she must have hung back hidden around the corner, she must have heard me because now the whole world knows that I, the bogey man, I am real and I am in the darkness waiting.