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 Posted: Sun Sep 18, 2011 4:13 pm
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Swing forever and let you worries die
Nicholas Bastion. When he was a young child, he was happy and always smiling. He and his mother would always go to his favorite park which had a few trees and a swing set along with a slide and just spend hours getting pushed back and forth by his mother. He was the closest with his mother since his father worked all the time and he almost never saw him. His mother didn't not have a job and would always play with Nicholas right after school. Things could never get better for Nicholas. until he was seven years old.
It was a normal day, the sun was setting and Nicholas' mother pushing him on the swing, a smile set on Nicholas's face. He was having a blast as always with his mother. They were just going home when his mother was given a strange call on her phone. She didn't know who it was and hung up. Suddenly, a car was swerving out of control and was heading straight for Nicholas and his mother! Nicholas was pushed out of the way, her mother left to take the hit...
Death was instant. The lunatic was arrested. But Nicholas... his life changed forever. When he saw his mother laying limp and bloody on the sidewalk, he ran up to her side, trying his best to wake her up, only to realize she was dead. He cried and was emotionally unstable for three whole days. After the funeral, Nicholas stayed right by her grave for the entire day until his father picked him up after his shift was over.
From that day on, Nicholas never smiled. He went pale, and seemed to have lost all emotions. All his emotions went to his art. Everyday, Nicholas would go to the park, sit on the same swing, and draw until nightfall. Eight years later, he still does the same that at the park, which was now dead and abandoned.
There was however, a girl who did in fact like Nicholas and would try their best to make him smile on their own. She, before the death, was one of Nicholas' best friends. She was stunned of how much Nicholas changed after that day and would always try to get him to smile. She grew more deeper feelings for him as she tried.
Will she succeed in gaining a smile and maybe even his love? We'll just have to find out
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Posted: Sun Sep 18, 2011 4:17 pm
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Posted: Sun Sep 18, 2011 4:20 pm
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Posted: Sun Sep 18, 2011 4:27 pm
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"Swing Forever and Let Art Tell Your Stories"Given At Birth: Nicholas Bastion
Death Comes Closer Each Year: 15
School Is There For Reasons: Sophomore
I Act How I Act: Unemotional, Quiet, A bit dark
Stories Tell Everything: I lost who I used to be when Mother died. She was the reason why I was always happy and cheerful. Now I'm dead and alone. There are only two things that I ever do now, draw and sleep. I like to stay away from everyone and just keep to myself. I used to talk a lot, but I stopped talking once mother died. The only way I show any emotion are in my drawings. Everyday I sit on my dark blue swing in what I now call "Dead Park" and just draw. The park used to be very bright and cheery with two swings, a slide, and trees. The park was soon abandoned, one swing was broken, the slide now collection rust, and the trees dead and black. The park is in a way my safe haven, where I can be alone. There is this girl though... She was my best friend back when I was little. She still tries to talk with me and help, but I don't need any help. No help at all...
Love With My Heart:
-Drawing
-Swings
-My mother
Hate Without Remorse:
-Death
-Crowds
-Loudness
Mirrors May Lie: 
Others May Not Know: I'm now only seen in dark colors and have heard people say rumors about me being a cutter and stuff like that. I just ignore them and let them believe what they want. I just want to be alone.
'Just once, show me that you're still here with me. Are you here?' Name Given At Birth: Fiona Delacroix
Death Comes Closer Each Year: 15, one month younger than Nicholas
School Is There For Reasons: Sophomore
I Act How I Act: A little akward and quirky, mostly keeps to herself and tries to appear as normal as possible to avoid the others at school
Stories Tell Everything: Fiona is of French descent and speaks small amounts of the language. Her parents moved here from France shortly before she was born and soon met many new people, including Nicholas and his mother. So that means Nicholas and Fiona have known each other since they were very young. When her family heard about the tradegy, they were the ones who pushed the police relentlessly to arrest the monster responsible. Fiona didn't fully understand the extent of the situation back then, but she is beginning to understand how much of an impact it has had on her dear friend. She wants to see him smile again, just once. For her. She wants him to smile for her, because of her. But she wouldn't outright say that, right?
Love With My Heart:
- Sunsets
- Foreign films
- Open houses
Despise Without Remorse:
- Interruptions
- The school jocks, and many of the other boys in general
- Anything cherry flavored
Mirrors May Lie:
Other May Not Know: Yes, my eyes are two different colors. I know, already. Anyway, my parents are trying to have another baby and so I don't stay at home so often anymore - I don't want to listen to that sort of thing, you know? |
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Posted: Sun Sep 18, 2011 5:27 pm
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Posted: Sun Sep 18, 2011 5:34 pm
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Posted: Sun Sep 18, 2011 5:36 pm
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Posted: Sun Sep 18, 2011 8:41 pm
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Posted: Mon Sep 19, 2011 3:26 pm
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(Alrighty!)
It was a gloomy evening. The sun was setting and the cold chills of winter winds were blowing, the creaks of rusted over chains slowly flailing in the wind at an old, deserted park commonly known now as "Dead Park". No one goes over there any more for it is completely run down, except for one person. He has gone there every day for most of his life. The past seven years have been no different. He used to be a happy kid before seven years ago, you wouldn't believe it if you saw him now though. This boy's name is Nicholas Bastion. He was currently sitting down on the only working swing at Dead Park, the wind slowly moving him as the chains creaked. He was working diligently on a new piece of art. He portrays his now bottled emotions into his art, each piece telling its own deep story in its own ways. Todays piece was called "Ice Cold Flame". It was a drawing of a field of fire that instead of burning things, it turned everything to ice. In the middle of this field was a little boy, encased in a cube of ice. It wasn't one of his best pieces, but his drawings were always just astonishing to look at, even if you didn't understand its meaning.
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Posted: Mon Sep 19, 2011 5:08 pm
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Posted: Mon Sep 19, 2011 6:06 pm
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The wind whipped through her hair and chilled her bones. Why had she only worn a light sweater today?
Fiona Delacroix walked towards Dead Park in search of at least temporary shelter before she went home to rabbit-libido parents, wearing dark jeans and a simple tee-shirt under a thin green sweater. Well, for now that would just have to do. She didn't want to go home and hear anything her aforementioned parents might be doing. So as she approached Dead Park, she decided that she probably needed the fresh air anyway. School had ended earlier in the day, and she hadn't done her homework yet - but that wasn't super important to her right now. It'd prove a distraction later when she got back home and her parents wanted to know what color to paint the nursery. Yes, they really were becoming that obsessed. Hence why she was out this late.
Her thoughts were on school itself and the people in it. Most of the time she ignored the majority of her classmates, except for one. Her childhood friend Nicholas was in one of her classes this year, which was actually really great, but she didn't remember ever hearing him talk during the class. Sometimes she even forgot what his voice sounded like in a sea of texting cell phones and gum chewing. Pop, pop, crack. The crunching leaves under her feet both served testimony to her thoughts and broke her from them as she realized she had approached Dead Park.
Fiona knew where to find her friend in this park, he was usually on the swing. It hurt her, knowing the swing was close to the only physical memory he had of his mother. The poor guy. What was he doing now?
As Fiona got closer she realized he was drawing. Right now she wasn't close enough to see what the drawing was, but she knew how good he was at this particular hobby. So as she stopped maybe three feet beside him, close enough to give him room if he wanted it, she offered him a smile and said, Hey, you. What are you drawing?
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Posted: Mon Sep 19, 2011 6:39 pm
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The sense of life could be detected only a few feet away, Nicholas not even looking in that direction. Before the person was in eye sight to his art, his closed the sketch pad, like closing away his ill forgotten emotions. He then looked up at the person, Fiona. She was a close friend to Nicholas, or was until the accident. Unlike his past friends he had before the accident occurred, Fiona never gave up on being his friend and throughout his drought of sadness, she has always tried to make him smile, never once succeeding this mission.
Nicholas looked at Fiona with his pale blue eyes, as empty as a well in a drought ridden desert, and as cold as the middle of Antarctica in the middle of a blizzard on the coldest day of the year. "Hello." He simply said, the word, just falling off the Earth with no emotion at all. It was ghastly almost, like the chilled wind blowing through their hair. He placed his sketch book into his book bag, shutting it off from the wandering eyes of curiosity. "I was drawing a drawing. Nothing more, nothing less..." Nicholas stated, his words chilled and dark. The street lights soon went on, giving some source of light on the gloomy evening as the same disappeared the sight. Soon the breath of the too were visible, seemingly uneffecting Nicholas however. He was wearing black jeans and a black t-shirt, no jacket or even a long sleeve shirt. His hands gripped the cold, rusted chains, almost sticking to his hands as he simple leaned back and fourth, the only sound resonating from the creaks and squeaks of the rust chain moving.
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Posted: Mon Sep 19, 2011 6:57 pm
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Fiona had to strain to bite back a 'Wait' when Nicholas noticed her and closed his sketchbook. As much as she wanted to ask him about his drawings further, she knew his drawings were his and his only and would try her very best to respect that and restrain from peeking until the day he decided to show her even a sketch - even if that day never came. And day it was no more, as the sudden orange glow of the streetlights caused Fiona to blink against them. She briefly looked down at her feet, clad in black vans, maybe for more reasons than just because the sudden blaring light hurt a little at first. When she looked back up at Nicholas, he was swinging - she knew that judging by the creaking noise the swing made. What would it be like, how would he react, if she asked him if he would like to be pushed? Well, he'd either glare at her or light up like a little boy again - which seemed more likely? In the former's case, that would just be really akward. Enough said about that. In the latter's case, he could finally relive at least a tiny piece of his childhood. Maybe pretend, for just a second, that the petite and cold hands of Fiona were that of his mother's ...
For a few moments, she looked around. Only the blare of streetlights and a few cars speeding by in the distance. What had the car ... that day ... looked like? Did Nicholas know or remember? She didn't want to ask him a question like that, that would be rude and ensue in akwardness like never before. Besides, the police had probably asked him enough questions back then so that he'd rather just shut that out.
So Fiona walked around and sat cross-legged at a safe distance from him and the swing, but close enough for him to see and hear her, and adjusted herself briefly before asking, What time is your father's shift over?
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Posted: Mon Sep 19, 2011 7:13 pm
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The memories of long ago began to flow like a rushing waterfall as Nicholas swung slowly, the creaks echoing in his ears. He remembered back when his face was full of life, just like the park itself, his mother always smiling and pushing him on the swing for what seemed like forever. These memories were then smashed, like a baseball crashing though a sheet of glass, the sharp memory of the car and the man who destroyed Nicholas's life internally. He still remembers spending almost two full days and nights sitting at his mothers tombstone, hiding from the gravekeeper so he wouldn't get in trouble. He remembered the last emotion he ever gave off after that before it was washed away, sadness. The tears that flowed down his cheeks were dry and have been dry for seven long years, a smile just a long lost memory of childhood.
He looked over to see that Fiona moved away, a question almost escaping his ears before he caught it by the tail. "Father returns home from his job in the margins of eleven pm to eleven thirty pm." He stated, looking up at the sky as puffs of shroud escaped his lips as breath.
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Posted: Mon Sep 19, 2011 7:42 pm
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Fiona had pulled out her planner from her bag and was checking what homework she had for today when she heard Nicholas' voice, almost quieter than the chilling wind around them, and looked up at him. She knew her friend's father worked late, but she had never been exactly sure of the hours - of course a parent had to maintain a job in today's world, but didn't the two of them ever see one another? For now the girl decided not to ask him any more akward questions, but now she was wondering if Nicholas even went home until his father arrived home. Did he have a house key, or did he just not want to go home yet? Didn't he get at least a little lonely? For a flitting second, she remembered playing childish games with him before the tragedy, such as hide-and-seek or tag. As very young children, both of them had boundless energy and sometimes tried to resist when their parents collected them and said it was time to go home now, dear. Maybe, just maybe, they were still caught in a time warp where they didn't feel they could go home until a parent came to collect them - even as dark as it was beginning to get. Closing her planner and putting it back in her bag -she didn't want to do her homework now, no matter how much she knew she needed to- and placing the bag at her side, she looked over briefly at the old slide. The slide that at one time seemed so large and scary and threatening, but now looked ready to give up and collapse. The slide that used to heat up with the summer sun so that just getting on caused scalding, but now sat drearily in the artificial glow of the streetlights, neglected. Was it still possible to ride it?
After a few moments of thoughts and a few stolen glances at Nicholas, she stood up and walked towards the slide. The rusted, cold, neglected slide. Why was it that when she herself was here, she felt like she was in a time warp - but the park itself aged every day in advancing death?
Fiona circled around the slide to check for spiders or other such unwanted things, found several, and in turn backed away a little. Certainly spiders still frightened her as they had when she was very young -there was the time warp again- but at least she didn't run away screaming for Daddy to go and smash it anymore, right? She looked towards her friend. Will the slide break if I try to ride it? Even though she was seriously considering getting on the slide, she also still had to consider if it would break. Did Nicholas know?
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