can't go to my email while at school

I guess you can read this crap if you want to, but with school coming to the end and I'm not able to use my email at school, this was the only way that is quick for me to send some stuff I've done at school.  

Underneath a moonlit orchid in the dirt where worms grow without light, there are goblins and gremlins.  It is in this orchid that people say they see something extraordinary.  And maybe they do.  Maybe they see the Ancient One, with his horn glowing and his white body shimmering beneath the moon.  Maybe they do see the demonic luminous eyes of the gremlins.  Maybe they see the leprechauns playing flutes for nymphs and fairies as they dance around a fire spirit.
Or maybe they’re nut jobs that only see things due to schizophrenia and paranoia.


Life is a mystery.  Life is something that changes without reason.  It’s something that takes, yet Life leaves no remnant of itself in its thievery.  Life is an enigma both day and night.  It is the corruption, and the cancer of men.  Life is nothing more than a flaw in some higher power’s twisted design, in that it makes little sense.  It steals.  But we, as humans, are not supposed to steal.  It kills in the most barbarous of ways, leaving nothing but a rotting corpse six feet under and no room to breathe.


Chaotic cures and endorphins endangering kisses
Sour sorrow steals salty tears that fall faintly on a young woman’s face.
And she doesn’t grow without guilt.
But the betrayal still fills the fury’s air furthering the façade of pain.



Magically Ignorant in the Age of Man


In the age of man, machines are kings.  Magic is the internet, and computers are kingdoms.  Cars, planes, and trains are valiant horses, and their engines are knights going into battle.  Good verses evil is a thing of the past, now it is Republicans verses Democrats.  There are no men slaying dragons, no damsels distressing.  There are only metro-sexuals and glamour disguised in dresses.
In the age of man, it is easier to be a cynic than it is to have hope.  When there are wars after wars but no heroes, it’s easier to close your eyes and walk through the fire-y oil and dip your hands into the black abyss of the corrupt.  It’s easier to not have faith…in man…in God…in yourself.  It’s easier to just fade in with everyone else, and blend the oil into your skin and sink into the abyss.
I see this world as a hell, not a haven.  And I watch from the remaining forests and head back home.  They’re not ready to know.  But you are.

As I walk into the forest, the trees are screaming at me…at you…at them.  “Clean me up! Please…I can’t breathe…help me…”  But the trees go unnoticed by them, and I can’t heal the world.  All I do is cry onto the trees roots, hoping that they can feel pureness in water instead of the burning of acid.  Then I walk away.
Here in the forest, I hear the cries of a million trees every day.  Some of them are dying of old age, and others being cut down by Man.  They don’t want to die.  I wish for it.  But being of an ancient race, I’m bound to immortality like a curse.  And I see this world become ruined day after day by Man.  By people who don’t care.  And I care too much.  The bloodsuckers were on to something when they wanted to attack Man openly.  But my father didn’t submit to their idea.  He’s not afraid of them.  But he’s getting old.  Even for immortal standards.  The silver strands and aging eyes show my father’s weaknesses.  

“Pass me another one.”  I look up.  Man is in Heaven Orchid. The men here now, have made a mess of the place.  Empty cans strewn across the ancient stone, and animals murdered in the back of a pick-up truck.  Old Stone is looking at Man’s soul.  I watch him do it.  He’s opened Man up, and is staring in horror at what’s inside.  I realize my mouth is opened in astonished horror.  The soul is tar.  It bubbles like tar.  It smells like tar.  And it is sucking in Old Stone’s light like tar sucks in animals.  It’s consuming Old Stone, but he’s stronger.  He’s pure.  Old Stone closes Man back up, and I sit on the edge of Heaven Orchid.

Silence in the forest.  The trees refuse to sway; even the wind is trying to make them dance.  The animals have all skittered my way and have huddled behind the trees nearby.  I sit staring.  I watch Man like a hawk, but they don’t see me.  They can’t.  Man is blind.
I stare around me, and notice I’m not the only ancient out.  Why would I be?  “What we do, Genesis?”  A youngling asks me.  I stare at her.  It’s Lilia, an orphaned gremlin.  
“Just stay by me.  Remember, they cannot see us.”
“What if they get eyes?”
“They have eyes, Lilia.  But they cannot use them correctly.  Trust me.  Now, hush.  They do have ears too, you know?”  I pat Lilia’s back and bring her into my arms.  She’s shivering.  After I bring her to me, a few young elves come to sit by me as well.  They’re holding flowers that a couple of fairies are sitting on.  They look scared.  I touch one of the elfin girl’s hands.  She buries her head into my shoulder.  “It’s okay you guys.  They’ll pass.  They always do.”  I try to comfort them, but my eyes are on the men in the forest.  These are not nice people.  
I have seen Old Stone open up the souls of Man before, but none looked like tar.  These men are not like the others.  These men are bad.  

One of the men kicks a can, and waddles over to the truck.  He stares inside the window, and puts his hand through it.  When his hand comes back out, he’s holding a gun.  “Let’s shoot ‘em birds, Ralph.”  The man with the gun carries it over to the one he called Ralph.  Ralph stares at the gun, and I stare at Ralph.  He takes the gun, and takes aim.  But the birds have left.  I notice that one of the flowers that the elfin children are holding is swaying, a fairy is gone.  I look around, noticing a small fluttering near one of the men’s heads.  Then I watch the fairy flutter back to us.  Ralph fires in our direction, and hits the tree behind us.
“Careful.  What if they had seen you?” I ask her.  But she gives me a devilish grin.
“Like you said, they cannot see correctly.”

After about an hour, the men grow tired and leave Heaven Orchid.  We walk out into the open and a couple of the children stick their tongues out at the dust that the truck had kicked up as it sped off onto a hiking path.  Lilia is near me, grimacing.  
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m sick.”  That’s when I notice the hole in her abdomen.  

I run quickly with Lilia in my arms.  She can’t feel anything.  But she still cries.  Her blood looks like rust on my dress.  When we reach my father, he is in a meeting with other ancients.  The Dwarf King is laying out maps for new tunnels.  Ways we can bury ourselves further away from the humans.  My father looks up at me and smiles, although his smile fades quickly as he sees Lilia in my arms.
“What happened?” He’s looking into my eyes, burning me with his thoughts.  His thinking too much and I can’t get any of his messages.  Hush father, one at a time…  My father’s eyes burn me further.
“Man was in the forest, in Heaven Orchid.  They had their guns like they often do.”  My father has taken Lilia away from me, and has her in his arms.  He can heal her.  I know he can.  I hope he can.


An orchid where magical creatures live in today's society.  These creatures must deal with what humans have done to this world, when a new war comes about and the humans are threatening to use nuclear weapons.  The magical beings must decide to come forth and fight for Mother Earth, or stay hidden and watch as the world becomes destroyed.