This blog has been neglected for so long. Sadness overwhelms it.
I have often recalled the status of this blog: derelict and dejected. The lack of updates, despite my creative responsibility, is a regret I hold.
To my teacher, Erin Olson, I apologize. I had given my word to keep this blog afloat, but it was not well upheld. If only to find a way to revive my blog, I offer up a unfinished piece of my own creative scrawlings.
For your reading experience, though not much of one, I present to you a very rough writing scrap: "The Heart-Flight"
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"The Heart-Flight"
by mudkip003
Prologue
The Birds chirp cheerfully as they hop from branch to branch among the trees. Their wings, tinged with silver and gold, flit and flutter as they dance. Through the air, their jubilance echoes to the sky.
The Birds are always beautiful, always carefree. They sing their songs to themselves, to each other, to all around, but, most of all, to the sky.
I have always been jealous of the Birds. The Birds' wings, glinting in the sunlight, are so much more beautiful than my simple, mottled coat. The most beautiful thing I've ever held in my possession though, the one thing that I can even attempt to compare to their wings, that is my paws. Flecked with bits of copper, these paws are my source of pride.
The Birds, as wondrous a sight as they are, have always mocked me. They taunt me, tease me. Sometimes, if feeling particularly daring, they will even spit at me. Their hatred hurts, as I've never once tried to harm them, never once done anything to earn it. Unlike many of my family, I've never once wished them ill. Unlike my family, I love the Birds.
Despite my many attempts to show my love, I have never found their kindness. If only I wasn't what I am.
Chapter 1
My eyes quickly scan my surroundings. No movement enters my vision, not even the leaves above me twitch from the breeze. Despite the lack of movement, I can smell the fear. It bites at my nostrils, tearing at my control.
"KILL!" I hear the whisper of my ancestors, the voice of my instincts.
I follow the urge to a point: I turn toward where the scent emanates from.
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That's all I have from that.
I also have for you a bit of my story, "Blackest of Blue" (unfinished title)
"Blackest of Blue"
by mudkip003
Chapter 1 - Seeing is more than vision allows
Pain.
That was the first thing Marc felt. Intense and stabbing, it coursed through his body, each and every nerve screaming in protest. His breath came in sharp bursts, each intake of air sending a quake through his body. Teeth clenched and fingers digging into whatever surface lay beneath them, he bit back a wail of agony.
Slowly, his fingers relaxed and his jaw loosened. The pain had lessened to a sting, and then to a dull throbbing. Marc noticed his breathing even out before any other conscious thought could reach him. He grasped onto this feeling in his mind, clutching it desperately as if it were all that kept him from the darkness of naught.
Taking up the task of discovering his whereabouts, Marc attempted to open his eyes. Nothing but blackness entered his vision. A stinging twinge pained his eyes, as if a reminder of his suffering before.
Drawing a wince, Marc's spine cracked as he pushed his torso upright.
"Sir!"
The voice, so close and clear, came as a shock to Marc. His jaw went slack in surprise.
"Sir! You really need to lie back down!"
It was a woman's voice, Marc noted, though not one he recognized.
"Ma'am," Marc's voice rasped, his throat dry, "Where am I?" His hands lifted to his eyes; confusion as to his missing sight swirling through his mind.
A hand slapped his down and the woman's voice rang crisply, "Don't touch the bandages. I've already sent for the doctor; he wanted to see you once you'd woken up. You'll just have to be patient."
"What…?" Marc dug through the jumble of his most recent memories, trying to piece together what was going on. The memories were hazy, but still there.
Before he had time to straighten the facts, the sound of a door's latch catching reached his ears.
"Ah, Marc! You're finally awake! I'm glad to see that. I was getting a little worried, actually," a man's voice greeted him with a chuckle, overlapping quiet footsteps.
Marc tried to fit the pieces together, but couldn't recall enough to understand the current situation.
"You seem a bit unsteady. Is everything all right?" the man's voice held a hint of concern.
Muddling through his viscus memories, Marc found it more difficult to think.
"I-- I can't remember what happened. The last thing that comes to me is my apartment…"
The man sighed, "I was worried about that. The sedative and pain killers must have messed with your head a bit. Well, let me fill you in. You're in a hospital. You were brought here by ambulance about a week ago, after having been attacked in your apartment. Your eyes… Well, you'd be forever blind unless you went through immediate surgery, and you gave your consent to have the operation. It was risky, but none of the staff fully filled you in on just how risky it was," the man's breath seemed to wheeze for a moment, as if his shame kept him from speaking. A moment passed before he continued in a lighter tone, "In fact, you're the first to receive this surgery successfully. The only reason we'd suggested it was because you'd signed up for an experimental medical group, but.. Well, that doesn't matter right now. Anyway, we gave you new eyes, and you should be able to see just fine. It's time to take off the bandages and make sure it was as successful as we believe!"
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This is all I have to offer.
This is all I have to give.
Until next time...
--Mudkip003
