Fire Within Me

This is a story I came up with a little while ago, and I thought you might want to read it.  The picture below is the image which inspired this story.

The sky above,

The earth below,

The fire within,

Resurrect the violin

Those were the words on the wall.  The words that had mocked Anastasia for years.  The years she had spent in her little quiet castle, alone, in dark rooms.  No sky above, no earth below, no fire within.  For years- every one of her slow fifteen years- she had grown up in the castle, with only the mocking words, and the locked up violin to keep her company.  She wanted desperately to break free of her dark, lonely, prison, and see the sky, and earth, and fire.  She had a clear image of what each looked like, given to her by her silent, invisible father.  But she desired passionately to see those things for herself.  

 Anastasia knew what she had to do to see the beautiful creations, she had to resurrect the violin.  Just as it said in the words.  She had to unlock the violin from its cell, and play the wonderful exoctic notes, to create music.  But all her life, she had been afraid.  Afraid of creating the music she had never heard before.  Afraid to accept her fathers gift, which he had offered to her since birth.  She was afraid to leave the dark and despairing castle, the only place she had ever known, no matter how much she hated it, she was afraid to leave.  

  Anastasia swung around, her simple renaissance skirt swayed elegantly behind her.  She quickly and quietly marched out of the vacant room, and shut the door as she exited.  She walked down the corridors, and guided herself to her own gloomy room.  She entered, and layed herself down on the floor, her raven hair sprawled over the cold ground, her dark green eyes stared up at the bare black ceiling, her white hands rested on her black corset.  She began to imagine fresh, bright blue, skies, and green, vibrant, grasses.  She dreamed of someday smelling the morning air, and staring up at the glittery night skies.  

  Anastasia did not understand herself, she hated the dark dreary castle she lived in, yet she was afraid to leave it.  She could leave anytime, all she needed to do was play the violin, but she refused.  She hated herself for it, she hated her fear, and her loneliness.  She was tired of the despair, she was tired of telling herself she would free herself, then refusing.  She wanted to take chances.  She desired to force herself up, and create music on the patiently waiting violin.  But as always, her legs would not move.  

  Anastasia sighed, and let herself fall into a deep and sudden sleep.

  Many minutes later, a loud sound of a great crash disturbed her from her normal dreamless sleep.  Another crash sounded from many halls away.  The noise resembled a large man, stomping on her castle.  She sat up on the cold ground, and searched for any sign of unexpected danger suddenly lurking in the walls.  A troubling noise, sounded from above Anastasia.  She glimpsed up, and found the sight of a crack in her ceiling.  She quickly stood, and spun away, just at the moment that the ceiling came crashing down to her resting place.  

  Anastasia gaped at the sight.  She knew exactly what was happening, her castle was falling apart.  And she was about to be crushed underneath the rubble and debri of her castle.  But suddenly, she remembered the gift her father had offered her since birth.  The beautiful violin.  She could still play the violin, and leave the castle, alive.  She didn’t think of it any longer, she rushed out of her decaying room, and ran down the corridors, as her castle crumbled to peices.  Echoes of the falling roofs rung in her ears, she saw the dreary walls of the castle crack and splinter, the ground shook beneath her.  

  Anastasia tripped over her own feet, and she fell to the ground, placing a thin wound over her left eye, reaching down to her cheekbone.  She stood straight again, and began to sprint across the castle once more.  Suddenly, the ceiling caved, in front of her.  She screamed out in surprise, but was drowned out by the noise of falling debri.  A large heap of rubble layed in front of her, blocking her exit.  More debri crumbled around her as she fell to the ground in disbelief and began to sob.  

  “Why are you crying, my dear princess?”  A kind voice spoke, muting out the sound of falling rubble.

  Anastasia immediately knew the voice to be her invisible father’s.  He was speaking to her for the first time.  Through her sobs, she answered, “I am going to die in this dreary castle, under the rubble.  I am never going to be able to see the sky, or earth, or fire.”  She sobbed into her hands, and continued, “I could have left at any time, but I never did.  I let your precious gift of freedom go to waste!  It’s my own fault I’m going to die like this!  You knew this was going to happen, so you gave me a way out all these years, and I put it aside as something to be afraid of!”

  “What makes you think I’m going to leave you here to die without giving you another chance?”  Her father asked, patiently.

  Anastasia sobbed until she thought she had no tears left.  The castle continued to collaspe in front of her, as she answered, “I don’t deserve to be saved.  I ignored your gift for fifteen years!  A gift from my own father!  I was selfish, and fearful, and didn’t trust you!  I should have trusted you!  Now you must hate me for not trusting you!”

  “Why must I?”

  Anastasia glanced up for a moment, and found a wonderful sight.  The pile of rubble was gone.  She smiled broadly, and laughed.  “Go, I have given you another chance.”  Her father’s voice echoed.

  She nodded, and stood up once again, and sprinted as fast as she could through the corridors to her safety.  Debri continued to crumble all around her, but she ignored the terror, and focused on reaching the violin.  After several turns, Anastasia finally reached the violin.  She slowly approached it, beginning to doubt herself again, but quickly put it behind her.  The violin was beautiful and majestic.  The handsome bow sat beside it, waiting to grasped, and stroke its strings along the violins beautiful notes.  

  With trembling hands, Anastasia reached down, and clutched the bow and violin.  It felt incredibly natural embedded in her palms, as if the two tools were made specifically for her.  She brought the bow to the strings of the violin, and instictively began to play.  It was as if Anastasia had played the violin a million times before, and practiced this song for that moment.  The bow knew exactly what to do.  On the first broad stroke, the bow sparked on fire.  The unique dancing flames were beautiul in her eyes.  Everything about the violin was beautiful.  The music that sounded from the notes, were so perfect and lovely to Anastasia’s ears.  The fire, which crawled along the bow and violin, danced in majestic motion.   

  The castle continued to crumble, as she played.  At each majestic stroke, she noticed a crack appear on the walls or in the ceiling.  They seemed to open up into another world, a world she was eager to travel to.  Finally, on the final great stroke, the ceiling collapsed down to the place Anastasia stood.  The next thing she knew, she was standing in a green feild, with the sky above her, the earth below her, and a fire newly kindled within her.  She smiled, and laughed, as if she were five years old.  

  With her violin and bow in clutched safely in her hands, she ran freely in the delightful colors and cool air.  After joyously running through the feild, she saw someone in the distance, approaching her.  She stopped, and stared at the person, who approached her.  She had never seen the person in her entire life, but she knew instantly who he was.  He was her gracious father.  

  Still smiling, she ran to her father, and hugged him tightly around the waist when she caught up to him.  Her father smiled, “Welcome home, Anastasia.  My dear princess.”

  She stepped back, and smiled at her father, “Thank you.”

  Instantly she began playing her violin, and once again everything about it was perfect.  The fire, the music, and there were no mistakes.  She danced to the music, with the sky above, the earth below, the fire within, she had reserructed the violin.

777 Writing Challenge

I was recently tagged by Hannah Williams in the 777 Writing Challenge.  The 777 Writing Challenge challenges a blogger to find the seventh page of their work in progress, and scroll down to the seventh line of the page.  Then they display the next seven lines in a post.  Here are my seven lines of my present work-in-progress, Twelve Dawns Rise.  This is only the first draft however, so it is far from flawless.  I hope you enjoy.

Her Mom gave her a stern look, and pointed up, in the direction of Darrilynns room.  Darrilynn reluctantly stood up, and trudged up to her room to get ready.  She made her way up the stairs and to the door to her room.  She placed her hand on the doorknob, and was about to turn it, when a crash sounded from her room.  She froze, what was that?  Is someone in my room?  She heard footsteps inside, but how would they get in?  But then she remembered the window in her room, it had a ladder connected to the house below the window.  But who is it?  

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian

  The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian is a book given a high rating by many famous book reviewers.  It’s on the good side of many librarians, it has a Young Adult Book Award, has a National Book Award, and is recommended by many middle schools.  So this book should be very clean, at least somewhat, right?  NO.  I only read the first six chapters- maybe not even that- but I read A LOT of language.  After a short night of cringing frequently, I handed the book off to my parents, and they found sexual content only a few chapters later.  My parents decided to search The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian on Google, and found several great reviews on it.  There was praise for the book on the fact that middle schoolers could read it.  The book was NOT for middle schoolers.  

  A little while after this, my mom received news that the Lebanon Public School had this book on the middle schoolers reading list.  And the parents of these children were okay with it!  Honestly, I was very angry.  I doubt the middle schoolers even enjoyed the plot of the story, the section which I read was not interesting.  It was written from the point of view of a high schooler who was indian in our times, and he sniffed books, he drew, and had a jerk for a friend named, Rowdy.  The characters were very lame and boring, the plot was slow and not quite understandable, and it was just inappropriate.  

  The reason why I am just now writing about a book which I found two years ago, is because there were no bad reviews on this book.  We searched several non-Christian blogs for a book review on this book, and the same with Christian blogs.  The Christian blogs did not had no reviews, and the non-Christian blogs titled them as good and wholesome books.  When I first discovered this, I vowed that someday I would write about this book, and tell everyone how horrible it is.  So there you have it, The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian is a horrible book.  It has sexual content, language, lame characters, and a slow plot.  

  

  I apologize for not giving a very well-written book review, but I never did finish the book, and don’t know much about it.  

Titanic

Today, I am giving you a report on the Titanic.  I have been studying this boat since I was eight years old, and it always been very fascinating to me (I didn't truly understand how sad it was till just recently).  Whenever I start discussing the Titanic, it feels like I'm pulling random facts out a magic hat.  But, without delaying any further, here is the Titanic.

  
Tragic, fascinating, mysterious, and full of the unexpected.  This is the TITANIC.  The ‘floating palace’ of 1912 was over three football fields long, and was the grandest ship of its time.  There were several isolated classes on the Titanic, just as other boats in that time had.  The Titanic was considered to be unsinkable, securing it as the safest ship in world and time, so no one ever assumed a great tragedy could befall the Titanic.  Leaving the Carpathia stunned at the sight of distress signals from the Titanic.  Many interesting tales followed after the Titanic, one story of great sadness.  Enter a true tragedy full of mystery and the unexpected.

   Designed by Thomas Andrews, the Titanic was created to be a comfortable temporary home floating across the sea.  With several dining rooms, cafes, and living rooms, Thomas Andrews completely succeeded in his goal.  The Titanic was eleven stories high, and had three decks.  The bottom dedicated to the third class passengers, the middle deck was for second class, and the highest deck belonged to the first class passengers.  A grand staircase was the transportation to and from each deck, which had a glass dome over it.  Letting light in through the day, and the sight of the stars in the thick of the night.  The Titanic had two thick layers of steel at the bottom, making almost impossible for anything to create a leak in the bottom of the large ship.  It had sixteen waterproof compartments, in case of the “impossible” event that water would enter into the Titanic, and begin to fill a few of the compartments.  In which they would seal the overflowing compartments, and stop the leakage.  The Titanic could take on four compartments full of water, and still be afloat.  However, even with all this extra armour, they never anticipated damage to the side of the ship, causing the death of hundreds.

  Classes are defined as the system of ordering a society in which people are divided into sets based on perceived social or economic status.  This society was one taking a voyage across the sea on the Titanic.  They separated the society into three groups, depending on the one who could pay more or less.  The class of the very best was the first class.  The first class was full of the important rich people of the world.  These people had many foods at the dinner table, such as, fresh lobster, roast duckling, fancy puddings, and french ice cream, and for their entertainment there was an orchestra playing.  There was no more than five children in first class, but they had the choices of swimming, playing on a brand new rowing machine, and riding a mechanical horse inside the gym.  The second class had many average people, they were the ones who were not low and dirty, but were not high and rich.  They had an orchestra in their dining room, and the same food choices as the first class, but they had not as much variety.  There was twenty-two children in all in second class, and they had the choice to spend their days on the second class deck, or read a book from the library.  The third class passengers consisted of several immigrants.  They had very little choice of food, and no orchestra in their dining hall.  However they had much fun square dancing, and creating their own music with fiddles.  There were seventy-three children in third class and they had the opportunity to explore the third class deck, and some even journeyed into the boiler room.  These isolated classes made up the society of the Titanic.

  No one ever assumed the Titanic might sink, after all it was called the unsinkable ship for a reason.  On the night of April 14, 1912, the Titanic was sailing across the calm sea, when the men in the crows nest spotted an iceberg.  They rang the bell three times, signaling an iceberg was directly in front of them.  The ship slowly began to turn, and was almost past the looming iceberg, when a bump jostled the ship, and a scraping sound rung in their ears.  The Titanic had been struck toward the bottom in the side.  All hands were suddenly required on deck, and few passengers made their way up the grand staircase, to find out what had happened.  Children were playing soccer with the ice which had broken off onto the deck.  The frantic stewards made their way to every single cabin to warn the passengers.  Many did not believe them, and the third class did not understand what was going on because they spoke no english, so many never left the Titanic.  Because of the many people who did not believe of the danger they were in, when they began to fill the lifeboats many left only half full.  Finally, as the Titanic neared closer to its death, the passengers began to realize the danger they were in, and began scrambling to secure a place on a lifeboat.  However there was not nearly enough lifeboats, even with four more lifeboats then the law required, they took pride in the fact that it was ‘unsinkable’ so the Titanic still did not have nearly enough for the two-thousand two-hundred fifty passengers, plus crewmen aboard.  After almost four hours the Titanic split down the middle, to the bottom, where it stopped.  Then the stern sunk down into the water, and the bow leveled out, the bottoms still connected.  After a second or two, the bow was drug down by the stern, and they spiraled down to the bottom,  until they broke into two parts and landed two-thousand feet apart.  The death toll after this great ship sunk, was one-thousand five-hundred people dead.  In this one event, during the maiden voyage, the myth of the Titanic being unsinkable was debunked.

  The Carpathia was not the closest ship in the Atlantic ocean to the Titanic when it sunk.  There was a light only ten miles away from the Titanic.  Many people believe it was a ship titled, the California.  Why did this near ship not come to the Titanic’s aid?  Because the ship’s only operator for the wireless messages went to catch some beauty sleep before the Titanic struck the iceberg.  Interestingly however, the California was the last one to send off warnings of icebergs toward the Titanic.  But instead of the California coming to help, the Carpathia came, and gathered up the survivors two hours after the Titanic went down.  They took the seven-hundred fifty survivors back to New York, and cured them of the illnesses and injuries they had received.  So, although the Carpathia was not the closest ship to the Titanic, it was the one who came to their aid.

  The sad story of a cold hearted man soon followed after the Titanic, and spanned over the time of many decades.  Fredrick Fleet was a lookout on the Titanic.  Early on in the journey, he left his binoculars in Ireland, the binoculars which were meant to help the lookout in the crows nest.  He was on duty the night of the Titanic’s tragedy.  And he carefully watched the sea all night long, until he noticed the iceberg looming directly ahead.  He rang the bell, and warned of the iceberg.  Then, when everyone began to pull lifeboats out, he was one of the crew members to board a lifeboat, to help the passengers.  He watched the Titanic, his crew, and other people go down to the bottom of the sea.  And he felt horrible, because he knew if he had brought along his binoculars, the tragedy could have been avoided.  Slowly his guiltiness turned to bitterness, and he became a cold-hearted man.  By the time he was eighty-five years old he was a recluse, and his wife had died.  He was living with his brother-in-law the weeks after his wife died, but then he asked Fredrick to leave his home.  So he did.  The morning after his brother-in-law asked him to leave, Mr. Fleet was found hanging from a tree in the backyard.   A horrible end for a recluse, a man who had buried himself in sorrow for decades.

   The Titanic is a story full of sorrow, and tragedy, and one laced with many mysteries.  The ‘unsinkable ship’ was designed by Thomas Andrews, and created to be a luxurious place.  The society of the Titanic made sure to separate each class of people from one another, and succeeded very well.  No one ever guessed a tragedy could happen to the Titanic, and especially not on her maiden voyage.  Making the the light in the distance not at all suspicious of the danger the Titanic was in.  A story of great sadness from the Titanic of a man who blamed himself for the fall of the Titanic.  A story full of mysteries, the Titanic is full of the unexpected and tragedy.