She stands near the edge of the Pacific…

She stands near the edge of the Pacific, the gently crashing surf masking her moans and groans.  Sleep is her only respite from the pain of age, but she can only snatch at it in fits and starts.  The bustling giants to her left and right remind her of the glory years and send what’s left of her mind reeling into the past.  Her hundred eyes blink open sporadically, trying to drink in the present, before exhaustion forces them shut again.

Sometimes she rouses from her memories to notice she has left lights on and doors open with no memory of doing either.  Was she sleepwalking?  Has her mind fractured into multiple personas?  Is she being targeted by mischievous children?  She grasps for answers that are beyond her reach.  She’s too tired.  She’s too old.

She knows her mind is slipping.

Her guardian, Merry, from what should be the pole position for keeping watch, assures her that everything is fine.  There was a time when that would have been enough, but she learned over the years that Merry can’t always be trusted.  There is much that goes on that the guardian misses.

Merry never mentions the lights burning at odd hours, the doors left open to creak and sway in the ocean breeze, and the emptiness that stands in stark contrast to the hustle and bustle around them.  As guardian, Merry should have noticed and reported on all these disturbances and abnormalities.  The lack of any mention troubled her greatly, though she never asks Merry directly about any of it.  She isn’t sure she wants to hear an answer.

In some of her moments of lucidness, she wonders if Merry has gone mad.

But then her eyes close again and her thoughts are lost in a jumble of dreams and nightmares.  Reality, the present and past, twist and distort as her imagination slice and splice demons and angels together.  An eye blinks open.  A light flickers on.  The hallways fill with voices from the past.  Soft footsteps walk the worn carpet halls to disappear into rooms unused in decades.  She struggles to rouse from the haunting, but she has lost sense of night and day and is no longer certain what is real and what is dream.

She shivers from cold, even in the height of summer, as eyes from the neighboring giants linger upon her.  She can feel their loathing, and fear.  She can sense their unease.  She wishes she understood why they felt that way, and what happened to her, what is still happening to her.  She shivers, too, when the giants’ eyes close in slumber, but she still feels a presence within.

As her moments of wakefulness grow shorter and father apart, she claws at them desperately.  She knows what waits for her in the long sleep.  She knows the darkness and silence, and she is not yet ready to give herself to them.   She knows her fight is futile.

In time, all that will remain are the ghosts of her memories, and they will haunt her halls until she is claimed by the sea.


they were not amused

She could see them clearly flitting around from the corner of her eye, flashes of white against the darkness.  They rattled their chains and voiced flesh chilling moans that echoed through the deserted hallways.  She wasn’t happy about their presence, and knew just who to call.

They saw her reaching for the phone and recognized the pattern of numbers being pressed.  She was calling for reinforcements in the form of their arch-enemies.  They tried to scare her away from the phone but she wouldn’t budge.  The louder they screamed at her to stop the more resolute in her actions she seemed.

They could sense more than hear that her call had gone through and they knew their time was short.  Very unhappy with how the haunting had gone, they gathered together and shaking their heads, slowly, went “boo” before disappearing into their home realm.

By the time the Ghostbusters arrived there was no trace of the ghosts ever having been there.


Word Count: 161

Written for this week’s Trifecta Writing Challenge:

On now to our weekly prompt.  It’s our last Halloween-inspired prompt of 2013, and we can’t wait to see what you’ve got in store for us.  Please remember that we are looking for the third definition of our prompt word.  Please also note that we need the word exactly as it appears below.  No tense changes allowed. Good luck!

1 (interjection) used to express contempt or disapproval or to startle or frighten
2 (noun) a sound that people make to show they do not like or approve of someone or something
3 (verb) to show dislike or disapproval of someone or something by shouting “Boo” slowly
  • Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
  • You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
  • The word itself needs to be included in your response.
  • You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
  • Only one entry per writer.
  • If your post doesn’t meet our requirements, please leave your link in the comments section, not in the linkz.
  • Trifecta is open to everyone. Please join us.

impossible is nothing

I believe in several things that are “impossible.”

I believe in magic.  I believe in the miracle aspect of magic, that sometimes great things just happen, as well as the more applied aspects: chanting, coercing, nudging events to follow a certain path.  I certainly wouldn’t want to cross anyone who was proficient in voodoo.

I believe that something is definitely going on in the Bermuda Triangle.  This one is different from magic because it is a naturally occurring phenomenon rather than something imposed by those walking the earth.  To many things have gone down in that little geometric shape for them all to be coincidence.  It is not on my list of places to visit.

I believe in Bigfoot.  How often are we discovering new things about the world we live in?  How many times have those “new” things been right under our noses and we just didn’t have the technology or the drive to look for them.  But, more importantly, I want to believe in this creature of the wild lands.  I want to live in a world that still has mysteries like this to be uncovered.

I believe in super heroes.  I think we all have the potential to be a hero.  I think we all have it in us to rise up and do something extraordinary, to advocate, to save, to exceed expectations and perform beyond belief.  I think we can do this in a very real way if we just apply ourselves.  I also believe there are people among us who have developed their hero side a bit more, they act as our guardian angels and they look out for us as much as they can.

I believe in ghosts.  I grew up in a haunted house.  I’ve seen things I cannot explain, but I believed long before I had seen these spirits, shapes, bendings of light and color.  I would still believe even if I had never seen, even if all hauntings had been proved to be hoaxes.

I believe in aliens.  I won’t even get into the idea of UFOs and abductions.  Just a sheer size and numbers game, the universe is too vast, full of too many unknowns and therefore possibilities, for us to be the only intelligent species to have life.  It is selfish of us to think any other way.