Jazmee27 
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He feels her eyes on him, and imagines her voice, full of accusation. This, of course, she hides well, masks behind a screen of false compassion. “How are you feeling,” she asks. As if she really wants to know, he thinks bitterly as he stubbornly refuses to speak or even meet her gaze. Nobody wants to hear what he has to say. What is he, after all, but a baby? At three years old, he’s clearly too young to make any informed opinion. So, instead of answering, he simply yawns and closes his eyes wearily, then lets out a relieved sigh as he hears her receding footsteps.
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Reply #1301. Jun 26 12, 6:12 PM
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Jazmee27
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======
The search parties have returned yet again with nothing for their efforts, and again they’ve been ordered to keep looking despite the cold wind blowing in from the east. Somehow, he knows they’ll turn up nothing, but remains silent. He knows they’d only pretend to listen, and pat his hand, and get that pitying look in their eyes again. He doesn’t need any of that, he thinks angrily. What he needs is for someone to understand, for someone to show some honest kindness toward his feelings, but he’s living in the wrong part of the Universe for that. He wishes he were older. At least then someone would take him seriously. All their claims that his brother’s “out there” don’t reassure him, because they’re just empty words, and even if they are true there’s the fact that nobody’s found an ything. Maybe, like what he has to say, they’re not serious about looking.But he bears his anger in silence, figuring there’s no use arguing the same point over and over again.
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Reply #1302. Jun 26 12, 6:13 PM
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Jazmee27
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======
What was I thinking, the 17-year-old wondered dazedly as his stomach muscles knotted involuntarily. I can’t accept responsibility for something I didn’t do! Unbidden, Desmond’s face flashed before him, and the young man cursed inwardly. He couldn’t back out now; and, if he were honest, he did feel slightly guilty for how things had gone. “I won’t let you down,” he whispered, “no matter the cost to myself.”
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Reply #1303. Jun 26 12, 6:14 PM
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Jazmee27
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The young man shook uncontrollably as he remembered Bizanti’s probing black e yes. “He’s real good at hiding his true feelings, but you didn’t have to see anger to know it was there,” he muttured distractedly, his hands clawing at the packed earth beside him as if seeking to dig a hole to hide in for the foreseeable future. “He’s furious; I almost expected—“
“Calm yourself,” a tight voice muttered from right behind him, and Aran Mulvahrian stilled instantly. “What’s done is done,” sixteen-year-old Porfirio Sanchez continued. “What we need now is a plan.”
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Reply #1304. Jun 26 12, 6:14 PM
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Jazmee27
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SKIPPING TO LAST SECTION, CONCERNING QORTEVIYNO QIVRAHNTIS
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It is a tiny room with a door at one end and no windows. Though the remainder of the building is floored in tile, the ground here is pure dirt, making it “undesirable.” It is a good place to hide something—or someone.
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Reply #1305. Jun 26 12, 6:16 PM
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Jazmee27
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======
The figure lying prone in the grime is a boy no older than two or three years. His dark brown hair is plastered to his head with dried blood, and he has languished in the land of unconsciousness at least six hours. The exact color of his eyes cannot quite be determined due to the large bruise taking up at least half of his face. His throat is red and swollen, and his right arm is bent at an unnatural angle. There is a deep gash across his belly, from one side to the other, and numerous smaller cuts on his chest, arms and legs, a few of which still bleed sluggishly. His back, likewise, is bruised, and anyone looking closely would clearly see it’s been fractured in at least three or four places. One shoulder looks to be dislocated, and his clothes have been torn from his frame and scattered somewhere else. The air in the room is frigid, and every now and then his body will jerk spasmodically in a sort of uncontrollable shiver.
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Reply #1306. Jun 26 12, 6:17 PM
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Jazmee27
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======
The door of his windowless prison opens soundlessly, and a young girl, no more than nine years old, ducks inside and bolts the door. Her chocolate-brown eyes probe the darkness until they light upon the form huddled in a corner. Instantly, she is across the room and kneeling down beside him, her eyes brimming with tears. This confuses the child, who’s still drifting in and out of consciousness. Every breath seems to stick in his chest, and he wonders vaguely why he’s trying so hard to survive. But no sooner does the thought cross his mind than a vivid image flashes before his eyes, that of his identical twin and father, their faces devoid of hope as they realize he’s not coming back to them. I can’t do that to my family, he thinks, and stubbornly clings to the tiny spark of life within him.
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Reply #1307. Jun 26 12, 6:18 PM
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Jazmee27
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He struggles and attempts to sit up, but the girl’s firm hand holds him in place. “Don’t move,” she cautions in a gentle voice, one hand stroking his hair. He lies motionless, eyes closed tight against the pain pulsing through his battered frame in waves, and wonders what has happened to him. He remembers playing with Qodi before bedtime, remembers their father coming to tuck them in, remembers Kora… what? Something nags at the back of his mind, but when he tries to focus on it the pain overwhelms him. With a strangled cry, he blacks out once more.
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Reply #1308. Jun 26 12, 6:19 PM
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Jazmee27
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When he next opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is the girl. Her head is lowered as if in prayer, and her shoulders are shaking violently. Stifling a gasp of pain, he attempts to sit up in order to move closer to the distraught girl. After a bit, he gives up and lies there, catching his breath. Then, with a stubbornness he didn’t know he possessed, he half rolls, half crawls over to where she is weeping. He places a tentative hand on her arm and feels her trembling cease as she looks up at him in surprise. “You’re OK,” she blurts, relieved, then averts her gaze in embarrassment.
He wants to comfort her, but figures that if lifting an arm generates so much pain then speaking cannot be much better. So he remains the way he is, with one hand still touching her arm. Finally, she shifts position until her own hand is right against his. With a contented sigh, his eyes close once more.
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Reply #1309. Jun 26 12, 6:21 PM
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Jazmee27
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VILLAGE STREETS 2 [there was actually a draft 3, but I worked it so that 2 was with 1 and 3 became 2]
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Bizanti Cannelahra smiled to himself. He was undisputed leader of the Scenorian gang called Cehrvanakavreyda, headquartered right here in the kingdom’s capital village of Armana. He’d fought hard to make it to where he was. At 18, it was important to him to show off his considerable strength. Only then would his former friend and Head of Qatavoreya Univahris, the Universal criminal organization, show him the respect he deserved.
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Reply #1310. Jun 26 12, 6:23 PM
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Jazmee27
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Qiphana Martris glared at the young man in front of him. “We’ve been over this, Qydra,” the 19-year-old growled. “ You’re too young for a position of leadership!”
The 7-year-old’s eyes flashed angrily. “I was born for this,” he muttered before turning and walking away. Qiphana watched him go, his black eyes narrowed to slits. How far would the younger gangster go in his attempts to overthrow the current leadership?
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Reply #1311. Jun 26 12, 6:23 PM
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Jazmee27
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Chendorri Dorsevahrtren smiled crookedly. His greatness had finally been recognized. “What would you have me do,” he asked quietly, a satisfied grin spreading over his face as the plan was outlined.
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Reply #1312. Jun 26 12, 6:23 PM
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Jazmee27
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======
Orehlio Ordevahran awoke with a start, staring around fearfully. He heard shouts from his father’s room, followed by muffled cries. Quietly, so as not to bother his siblings, he slipped out of bed and tiptoed toard the noise.
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Reply #1313. Jun 26 12, 6:24 PM
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Jazmee27
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Orseviyto Ordevahran waited until his twin’s footsteps faded before rolling out from between the sheets and following his brother. He found it hard to believe Orehlio could have thought he could just sneak away. Feeling the doorknob turn under his hand, Orseviyto padded silently toard the sounds of a struggle—then stopped short as he saw the source of the conflict from the corner of his eye.
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Reply #1314. Jun 26 12, 6:24 PM
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Jazmee27
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Juliana Ventrona followed the soldiers outside from a distance, and crossed into the palace behind them. She couldn’t distinguish the faces of her father’s men, but suspected her brother Julian to be one of them. She wished she’d heard thediscussion in which her uncle had outlined his plans. Even so, the 9-year-old’s stomach muscles clenched. She didn’t know what she could possibly do, but she was unwilling to stand by and do nothing. “This is not curiosity,” she kept repeating.
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Reply #1315. Jun 26 12, 6:25 PM
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Jazmee27
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The king’s mind refused to tell him how he came to be sleeping in that room, at that moment, dozing in a chair rather than in a bed. His thoughts were fuzzy, as if… Had he been hitting the bottle again? If so, why?
Not that it mattered, with hostile faces surrounding him. He felt rough hands pulling at him, yanking him from sleep. “What’s this all about,” he demanded when he could speak.
In answer, an arm snaked out and struck him on the forehead. That seemed to be the signal the others had been waiting for, for of a sudden he was being pelted left and right by blows coming fast and hard, hitting every part of his body in plain sight. With a cry like a wounded animal, the king fell to his knees—or, would have, but for the hands holding him upright. He marveled at their strength, just as the realization hit him that these men were brutally beating the life from his limbs? His last thought, before lapsing into unconsciousness, was that he had no idea why this was happening to him.
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Reply #1316. Jun 26 12, 6:26 PM
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Jazmee27
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Orseviyto crept closer to the sounds of strangled sobbbbing, and found his twin curled in on himself, trying in vain to stifle his cries of grief and fear. Without hesitation, Orseviyto drew his brother to him, murmuring words of comfort he couldn’t quite believe himself, but hoping they worked to reassure Orehlio.
After some minutes, the 3-year-old’s shaking ceased abruptly. “What did Papa do to deserve that,” he whispered.
“I don’t know,” Orseviyto answered, his crystalline blue eyes hard, “but one of these days we’re going to find out!”
“And then what,” the traumatized toddler asked.
“We’re going to see that justice is served to those men,” his identical twin declared.
“What’s that mean,” Orehlio asked, confused.
“We’ll figure it out together,” his brother promised.
“Where’s Orvessano,” Orehlio wanted to know next.
“I suppose still in bed, which is where we should be.”
“He’s lucky, to have slept through this waking nightmare.”
“Indeed,” Orseviyto agreed absently, his expression dazed.
“Let’s go to our room and, if nothing else, lay down. I’m tired, but I don’t think I can sleep after what I saw.”
“If we do, it likely won’t be a welcome rest,” his twin muttered darkly.
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WAS THE OLDEST BROTHR REALLY SLEEPING?
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Reply #1317. Jun 26 12, 6:28 PM
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Jazmee27
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I have three stories left in here: "Sajivreya Mahzyatiyva" [formerly called "The Photo" or "A Photo For..."], "The Hall of Horror" [once just "Horror"], and "The Tribunal" [also called "The Assembly" or "Universal Assembly"]
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Reply #1318. Jun 26 12, 6:31 PM
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Jazmee27
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Plan for tomorrow:
1. Call Mrs. Hain to make sure she got application
2. Call Zweier's with grocery order
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Reply #1319. Jun 26 12, 7:17 PM
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Jazmee27
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Interesting day today. Left it up to Grandma where we got lunch, and she decided on Marco’s. First, found out Georgette hadn’t put menu in with the others, but right in the front of the phone book (Grandma was quite annoyed at that).
Made our orders: a small turkey and cheese sub for her, along with an order of corn nuggets, and a large chicken tenderloin sub and an order of breaded cauliflower for me. First time I called in, got put on hold, and disconnected. Called back, ordered, and was told total was $19.07. Sides and Grandma’s sandwich get here, but instead of my sub there’s a salad. Called again; guy who answered explained he thought I said salad. HELLO? I SAID “NO MAYONNAISE”! WHY IN THE WORLD WOULD I SAY THAT IF I WAS GETTING A SALAD? Asked me what I wanted him to do; was half tempted to say “you tell me,” but managed to restrain myself, asking instead if there was any way I could get my sub. End result? After a long wait (Grandma and I devoured the sides, and she waited for my sub to come until she ate her sandwich), I got a free sub—and was able to keep the salad!
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Reply #1320. Jun 26 12, 7:31 PM
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