Jazmee27 
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======
“Well done, Fergus,” Lachlainn congratulated his younger brother.
The eleven-year-old grinned. “I thought you’d like it.”
“How long do we have?”
“About twenty minutes for the Immobolization Spell to ware off; about two hours for the Sleeping Curse to reverse itself.”
“Perfect,” the older boy muttered, fingers splayed over the target.
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Reply #1381. Jun 29 12, 7:56 PM
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Jazmee27
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======
“Ontario,” Anja whispered, “it’s time to move it!”
The nine-year-old moaned softly, his mind a fog of weariness.
The seven-year-old gazed into his eyes, pleading silently. DON’T TELL ME THE HEALING ENERGIES DIDN’T WORK!
“At first, they did,” he replied weakly, as if reading her thoughts, “but so long as Alonso and I remain connected via the Twin Connection—“
“We don’t need to shut the bond down or block it,” she interrupted.
“Protector knows,” he retorted, “we don’t want to because that might be more harmful to HIM than not.”
“We don’t need to,” she insisted.
“How, then, do we ensure—“
“I’m here to administer Painblocks when you need them,” she snapped, “and both of us can divert our attention back to what we SHOULD be focusing on!”
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Reply #1382. Jun 29 12, 7:57 PM
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Jazmee27
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======
The nondescript SUV pulled out carefully from the School parking lot, looking as out of place as a broken bone on a person. “This is nuts,” Fergus muttered repeatedly to himself.
“Will you stop that,” Lachlainn demanded. “That’s more noticeable then what we’re driving!”
“If I’d let YOU take charge,” the eleven-year-old growled, “you’d have gotten yourself caught before you even began!”
“Yes,” the older boy replied sarcastically, “thank you for saving me from myself.”
At a moan from the backseat, both teens turned. “Bloody hell,” Fergus exclaimed, turning back around quickly and hitting the accelerator.
“Thought you told me we had two hours,” Lachlainn hissed.
“We should have,” his brother retorted, fixing the seventeen-year-old with a steely glare. “Just zip it and let me think!”
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Reply #1383. Jun 29 12, 7:59 PM
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Jazmee27
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The party must be in the evening or late afternoon, because Mom said she’d pick me up around 3:30. “Time got away from me,” I told her, adding that until one day this week I forgot it was tomorrow. “What are you telling me,” she asked.”I don’t know what I was thinking Monday,” I told her, “but as of this morning I was wondering whether I wanted to go or not.” I then explained about how my allergies had been acting up, and how it’s not supposed to be any better weather-wise tomorrow. “It is supposed to be worse,” she told me, adding that I need to make a decision regarding what I’m doing by tomorrow when we talk. “It’ll depend how I feel,” I told her.
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Reply #1384. Jun 29 12, 8:22 PM
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Jazmee27
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TIME FOR MORE POETRY
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HOME (AUGUST 2010)
The very word
Sends shivers
Down my spine.
Can't wait to get back,
Pick my life up,
Begin where I left off.
What's that, you say?
I can't? Perhaps-
But maybe I still can;
Slower is better, I think.
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Reply #1385. Jun 30 12, 7:03 AM
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Jazmee27
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HOLIDAY (DECEMBER 2010)
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Holiday
The very word
fills my heart with mixed emotions
The changing times,
New and old faces,
The rushing,
Then contentment,
Days spent with family and friends,
Playing games,
Catching up on news,
All discussions lighthearted
Until days long past.
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Reply #1386. Jun 30 12, 7:05 AM
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Jazmee27
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TO ETHAN (DECEMBER 2010)
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Sweet little Ethan,
You call to me
Remind me it’s OK.
Maybe, one day,
You will speak,
But for now, dear birdie,
Just being is enough.
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Reply #1387. Jun 30 12, 7:05 AM
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Jazmee27
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I decided I didn't feel well enough to go
Mom told me to do something productive today, and not be a slug (I have no intention of turning into one of *those*)
I guess, as Mom's thinking, I do worry myself to the point of illness (had I taken the initiative to make something instead of allowingtime to drift away, perhaps things would have been different)
Add to that the fact that I didn't get anything (it *is* a baby shower, after all; again, some initiative on my part would have gone a long way toward alleviating any feelings of discomfort or embarrassment
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Reply #1388. Jun 30 12, 10:40 AM
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Jazmee27
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Mom had a lot of fun at the party, but got home late (so she said I maybe made the right call by not going)
I washed the few dishs in the sink, scrubbed the counters and the cabinet, took out the trash and recycling, and ordered a salad (oh, forgot to mention going for the mail)
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Reply #1389. Jun 30 12, 7:56 PM
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Jazmee27
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Went to bed last night without realizing I'd gotten the 24 hours of science badge. Such a feeling of achievement and pleasure when I got in today :)
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Reply #1390. Jul 01 12, 8:00 AM
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Jazmee27
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Another hot one :( Temperature I think is supposed to be 92 (wouldn't be so bad without bloody humidity - will it ever break?)
Speaking of which, Georgette seems of the opinion that when people talk about humidity breaking, "they think it'll go away and never come back." Tried explaining what people mean, but wound up so frustrated I just gave up.
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Reply #1391. Jul 01 12, 8:04 AM
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Jazmee27
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TIME TO GET SOME DRAFTS OUT OF HERE
THIS FOLDER'S ENTITLED "Sajivreya Mahzyatiyva"
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Reply #1392. Jul 01 12, 8:56 AM
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Jazmee27
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DRAFT ONE
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The child’s brown eyes stared out of the page, his expression one of such emmense suffering for one so young. The caption read “what did Sajivreya Mozyativa do to deserve this?” The photo showed the boy, around five or six years old, being whipped repeatedly with some sort of leather strips. A crowd milled around in the background, silent witnesses to the boy’s mistreatment. Splotches of blood stained the child’s clothing, just as tears streamed steadily from his eyes. At one point, the demon yielding the whip switched places with another one, who paused for a second to gaze into the boy’s eyes before resuming the punishment. As the child’s screams grew louder, a couple stepped forward from the crowd, their expressions filled with hate. “It’s filth like you that litter our kingdom,” one screamed as he spat full in Sajivreya's face. By now, his shrill cries had become a plaintive whimpering, like a puppy being tormented again and again. After a few minutes, even these ceased as the child lapsed into the merciful arms of unconsciousness. Still, his attackers kept the whip moving in an inexorable rhythm, stripping off layers of flesh from the child’s bones and spraying flecks of blood in every direction. His writhing only seemed to excite them and provide their limbs with added strength, so that the whip fell faster and harder. A few in the crowd, who had clubs, joined the one with the whip. Repeatedly, Sajivreya was knocked about the head, face, chest and a few select other areas, while everyone waited expectantly for the boy to surrender his hold on life. Finally, with one last shuddering breath, it was all over, and the crowd dispersed.
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Reply #1393. Jul 01 12, 8:59 AM
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Jazmee27
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======
Underneath the photo was an article outlining, in gory detail, every atrocity visited on the Mnoibrvanan people. “Their only crime,” the author contended, “was being a native of this once fair kingdom. The death of justice, it seems, is officially at hand.”
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Reply #1394. Jul 01 12, 8:59 AM
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Jazmee27
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DRAFT TWO
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I never would have met Sajivreya Mozyativa had it not been for my growing friendship with Sikradu Javiteya. The two boys often played together: one was eight and the other six, but age seemed not to matter as they played for hours on end, never seeming to tire even as their parents lapsed into tired sadness.
Whereas Sikradu was animated and talkative, Sajivreya was quiet and reflective. He always seemed so much wiser than his six years, his dark eyes probing the area he happened to be gazing at.
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Reply #1395. Jul 01 12, 9:01 AM
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Jazmee27
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======
Still, I didn’t know much about him save for the fact he made my older boy feel happier. My youngest, Mehnyana, was Sajivreya’s age, but the two never really felt comfortable around each other. I guess we’ll never understand why.
One crisp day in the middle of that season they call spring—I never did grasp why that is, especially that year as it felt like winter was once again tightening its grip on our throats—the papers were splattered with photos: the majority showed a terrified Sajivreya, his dark expressive eyes seeming to plead with us from the pages, but other photos showing other children of similar age or other physical characteristics. I felt the iron grip of fear as I read the headlines, then the captions, and finally the articles in their entirety. Among other things, the stories said Dark Forces were rounding up us natives, killing some instantaneously and not others, but holding them without any sort of rights. These children had next to no idea why they were being asked questions continuously, or why some were subjected to the harshest tortures known to the Universe.
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Reply #1396. Jul 01 12, 9:02 AM
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Jazmee27
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======
It took a while before I pieced together exactly what had become of Sajivreya Mozyativa. Apparently, he refused to answer any of the questions his captors threw at him, growing even more close-mouthed under torture. I tried to imagine the boy I knew, restrained and beaten, his spirit resisting every effort by the Dark to crush it. I found it hard to believe how anyone, let alone a young boy, could remain silent in the face of such agony. Yet, if the stories were to be believed, that’s what Sajivreya had done, staying defiantly quiet while the Dark Hunters broke his bones and tore his flesh. He had managed to remain stubborn until the very end, when there was no more left to fight with.
With tears coursing down my cheeks, I wondered what I’d tell my children when they asked.
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Reply #1397. Jul 01 12, 9:03 AM
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Jazmee27
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DRAFT THREE
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He’d always been small for his age, but also very bright. His eyes seemed to speak of a pain centuries old. He liked to play with the other children, but for the most part they thought him weired, just because he’d rather sit quietly and think. As if having nothing to say was somehow synonymous with committing a crime.
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Reply #1398. Jul 01 12, 9:06 AM
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Jazmee27
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======
Of course, Sajivreya Mozyativa would later feel like a criminal as he was taken away by those angry men, as those angry faces asked him question after question. What was the use of such questions? And why were they said so quickly the words blurred together? How could anyone, let alone a frightened six-year-old, understand such things?
So, he’d vowed to remain silent. They could throw all the words they wanted in his face, and he’d not speak a word. Not a peep would those monsters hear from Sajivreya Mozyativa.
He didn’t change his mind after they informed him they intended to beat the answers out of him. Let them, some defiant part of him shouted. If they thought the threat of pain, or the promise of it, would shake his resolve, they could think again. If anything, he was more determined than ever not to make a single peep.
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Reply #1399. Jul 01 12, 9:07 AM
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Jazmee27
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======
The first few days of his captivity, they brought him tiny morsels of food in an attempt to sway him. It didn’t look appetizing, so hungry as he was he didn’t touch any. Same went for that slop they called water. It was so muddy he doubted anyone could have swallowed it. But later, a kind-faced guard would always enter the cell with fresh water and a few juicy-looking bites to eat. He’d confided once that it was his own meal, but he just didn’t feel right watching Sajivreya starve. The six-year-old was touched, and so he’d accept the offerings gratefully.
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Reply #1400. Jul 01 12, 9:08 AM
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