Writing Doodle 035 - Don't Close Your Eyes

She could feel it as she stood there, eyes closed. Someone - or maybe it was something - was reaching out to her. Reaching for her.

Her heart started to beat a little bit harder in her chest. Another second and it was going to reach her, it would have her. She didn't know what would happen then. Breath catching in her throat, fear clamping around her heart, her eyes flew open. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting to see in front of her, but there was nothing there. The room was empty. Silent. Save for the sound of her own breathing.

Whatever had been there was gone now. Or maybe she just couldn't see it lurking in the shadows, waiting for its chance. Wait for her to close her eyes.

Next time.

After All This Time

Because my friends are huge Bellarke shippers, and I love my friends <3

somewhere in season 5...

--

Chest heaving with labored breathing, Clarke's blue eyes scanned the scene around her. There were bodies everywhere. She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. This wasn't what she'd wanted. This wasn't what any of them had wanted.

The blood drying on her face was itchy, pulling at the skin in that perfectly irritating way. When she lifted her hand to wipe it away, it was still sticky to the touch. Her stomach churned at the feeling, a soft groan slipping from her lips as she let her gaze drop to the ground. Blood from the bodies around her was pooling at her feet. Her head snapped up as her eyes looked around, her expression frantic. "Madi," she shouted, worried her companion had been lost in all of this."Madi!" This time the name tore from her lips more desperately. Clarke began to move, tripping on lifeless limbs as she hurried to move away from the slaughter.

A familiar sting prickled behind her eyes, and she willed herself not to cry. Not now. She had to be strong, just like always. Steeling herself against her own selfish emotions, she clenched her jaw and kept moving, wading through the bodies. At the edge of the battlefield, her foot caught, tangled in the limbs of one of the fallen. Clarke was afraid to look down. Just as she began to turn her head, someone grabbed her hand.

"Don't." The voice was all too familiar. That rough, confident sound had filled her dreams, her nightmares, for 2,199 days before she'd heard it again. She had thought she'd been dreaming, but it was really him; it was really Bellamy.

Clarke looked up at him as he helped her out of the sea of bodies. For what it was worth, she was glad he was here - she didn't want to do this alone. His face was covered in blood, as she imagined hers was, too. "Have you seen Madi," she asked, not able to keep the worry from creeping into her voice. That same concern was tightening in her chest, gripping at her heart.Until finally...Bellamy nodded, "she's safe." An audible breath of relief poured from Clarke's lips, shaky at best.

"Oh, thank god," she muttered, her whole body finally relaxing. Pulling her eyes back to his face, she looked at him, silence stretching between them. The lump was growing in her throat, and she knew it was only a matter of time before her tears fell whether she wanted them to or not. When Bellamy turned, his eyes meeting hers, she could see the same on his face, the tears behind his eyes he was trying so hard to will away. Heart hammering in her chest, she realized she was still holding his hand, clinging desperately to the warmth that seemed to radiate from him. Blinking, she looked down at their hands, focusing on what was important right then and there.

"Did Octavia-?" As she asked, she looked back at him. Her question was cut off by his response, a shake of the head. Her stomach lurched; she felt sick. Clarke squeezed his hand gently as she pulled him into her, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, fingers tangling in his blood-matted curls. It took a moment, or maybe two, but soon enough, she could feel his arms wrapping around her waist.

When Bellamy pulled away, Clarke's cheek brushed against his. It was such a soft touch, it was almost enough to make her forget they were standing at the end of the world. Again. Looking at him, Clarke could see that he'd let the tears out. She wiped one away with the pad of her thumb, but she only smeared more blood over his freckles. A small wrinkle formed between her brows as she looked at him, wishing she could make things better. "Bellamy, I-" She didn't know what to say, though, and as she cut herself off, they both leaned in.

It had been ages since she'd kissed anyone like this. This felt right, natural. And yet...

Clarke pulled away, her eyes searching Bellamy's face as she took a small step away from him. A smile tugged the corner of her lips upwards, and she found she couldn't stop it. The smile spread over her face, and she glanced away, feeling suddenly shy about it. When she looked back at him, though, he was smiling, too.

It didn't seem to matter that they were both disgusting - sweaty, covered in blood and dirt and grime - because they had finally found one another. It had taken them over six years, but here they were. The tears started sliding down her cheeks, trailing through the blood and mud. For the first time in a long time, Clarke let herself be selfish, and she hoped Bellamy wouldn't mind: She kissed him again. This time, it was on purpose, this time it was fueled by desire rather than their shared pain. The warmth in her chest, spreading, made her wonder just how long she'd loved him and never realized it.

Writing Doodle 034 - Once Upon A Time

Once upon a time, there lived a princess. She grew up, dreaming of true love, with hope in her heart. One day, she met a prince, and she thought that she must have been in love. He was so confident and wonderful! He took her away, and locked her in a tower.

For a time, the princess was happy in her tower. She felt safe and protected. Oh how the prince must love me, she thought, for he cannot bear to see me come to harm, and so he keeps me locked away safe in this tower! And she was happy.

A year passed, and the prince threatened to leave the princess, throw her from the tower. The princess was terrified, and horribly saddened. She spent more and more time outside the tower, and just as she was getting used to being out in the world alone again, the prince begged her to come back. Thinking it was destiny that had pulled her back to the prince, she agreed, and back to the tower she went, locked away from the world, and safe.

Another year rolled by. The princess, and the tower, were moved to a new kingdom with the prince. It was beautiful there, and the princess began to long for the things outside her tower. Yet the prince kept her there. Thinking the prince knew best, and that he was only trying to protect her, she stayed.

It was the middle of the princess's third year locked in the tower when she got a message that her father had gone missing. The princess's mother was devastated, as was her younger sister. But the princess could do nothing to help her grieving family. The kingdom the prince had moved her to needed her so badly, that were she to leave, even just for a day, the kingdom would crumble, and the princess would be held responsible. She wrote to her mother and sister constantly, reassuring them that they were better off, that the wounds would heal in time. Oh, how she longed to leave the tower.

The princess felt as though she were wilting, locked away. The prince had broken her. He had made her believe that she was nothing with him and the protection his tower provided her. Then one day, the prince brought another princess to the tower. The princess was surprised and hurt. The prince did not hide the second princess, but the princess wondered why she wasn't enough for him. It wasn't until that moment, when he'd made her truly feel worthless, that she realized she was better than this.

She knew she had to escape from the tower.

Leaning from her window, she met a young handsome man. He claimed he was a knight, and he made the princess smile. She had not smiled for quite some time. He was going to help her from the tower, he had promised. She waited for him. Days passed, weeks passed, and soon it had been over a month, and the princess had not heard from her knight. He had abandoned her. She wept for herself then, thinking the worst of herself, yet knowing she did not belong in this tower.

Another month went by. The prince had taken the second princess away, but she had written the princess, claiming to have escaped. The princess took a deep breath and lept from the tower, leaving behind only a note for the prince, telling him she no longer loved him, and wasn't sure she really ever did.

It was a surprise to the princess to find that the leap from the tower was nothing to be afraid of. She landed in a warm pool and swam for some time before leaving the water behind. A smile had come to rest on her lips as she walked freely through the kingdom, making friends. One night, as she was spending time with her new friends, the prince came to her, begging her to speak with him. Being the kind-hearted soul she was, she obliged. The prince tried to convince her she had made a mistake, that in a few months time, she should return to the tower - just to be sure. Seeing no harm in the deal, the princess agreed and sent the weeping prince on his way.

Months passed. The princess was finally beginning to feel good about herself. She had even gone dancing with a man from the village. But, as she promised, she returned to the tower. The prince had paintings of other princesses hanging on the walls. He told her that he was over her. Really, he was just trying to make her jealous. The princess did not fall for the prince's trap, however. The next morning, she left, happier than even the day before.

The man from the village brought her a rose, asked her with a hand-written note to be his. The princess, feeling nothing for his kind man, turned him down. She had decided she wasn't ready to belong to someone again. But she didn't see the harm in sharing a dinner here and there with a man who fancied her.

That was when she met the knighted prince. She had dinner with him just once, but everything felt different. It was just so wonderful, and she felt like she could have spent all night just talking about nothing, if he had only stayed. None of the others gave her the same feeling. In fact, they were all rather dull in comparison.

The princess followed the knighted prince as he smiled down at her from atop his horse. He was everything she had ever dreamed of. They began seeing one another in secret. It was nearly three months before they announced their engagement to the kingdom, but in those three months, the princess had fallen quite deeply in love with the knighted prince. She imagined what their wedding would be like, and hoped it would come quickly.

The princess was happy with the knighted prince. He was kind to her, and so supportive. She began to feel like she was valuable, and was able to be happy. Really, truly happy. It didn't matter if he were by her side at all times, as long as he loved her, she knew she would be the happiest princess in the world. Her confidence was building, and she even went out and did things she never thought she'd be able to. She had even gotten a position in a small kingdom supporting the ruler, and all this while her knighted prince was away for three long months.

It felt like it had been forever when he returned. The princess was so glad to see him, and she asked him to stay the night with her. They talked quite a bit, and the princess asked if he would be returning to the land of snow - where he had been for those three months - at the end of the next harvest. The knighted prince explained that he hoped he would be asked to return, and permanently, but he did not want the princess to follow him. The princess felt her heart shatter. The confidence she had been building up, the happiness she'd learned to cultivate in herself withered. She couldn't understand why he would not want her to go with him, but he refused to talk more on it.

Months more passed, and the princess could only feel herself growing sadder and sadder. She missed the person she had been when she'd met her knighted prince - so warm, kind, and optimistic! But she didn't know how to fix herself. The knighted prince spent less and less time with her, and she began to wonder if he loved her at all.

Finally, the harvest came to an end. The knighted prince had been called to a hearing in the land of snow, and the princess knew he was going to leave her behind. She sobbed, and he held her. Finally, she turned to him, asking him why? Why didn't he want her to go with him? That was when he'd made it very clear that he did not love her. He never had.

The princess felt her heart shatter then. Of all the terrible luck she could have had, she had never expected this. She wondered why he had spent so long courting her if he did not love her. He claimed it was hope - hope that he would love her as deeply as she loved him. And yet, he did not. The princess felt her optimism draining away, and wondered if she were unlovable. If her knighted prince could not love her, then who could?

A month passed, and the knighted prince spent a lot of time with the princess. She knew it was meant as a parting, but then the knighted prince heard from the land of snow that they had found someone better suited to the position. He was devastated, and the princess did all she could to console him despite how miserable she felt herself.

The days dragged into weeks then, and still the knighted prince did not break off his ties with the princess. It was beginning to be very painful for her, watching him from afar, watching him avoid spending time with her. All she really wanted was one last touch, one last kiss, one last tender moment, but he would not oblige her.

Finally, she asked him to dinner, and it was there that she told him he did not need to worry about her any longer; that she was leaving. She said she hoped he'd be happier this way, and perhaps they could still be friends.

With a broken and heavy heart, the princess returned to her home, alone. There, she sat for days, crying and screaming, wishing for nothing but the knighted prince's love, and knowing it would never be hers.

Writing Doodle 033 - Sacrifice

Imagine you're in love. Imagine you've loved that person almost the entire time you've been together. Imagine it's been a couple years, maybe even almost two and a half. Imagine the person you love explaining to you that they don't love you - that they've never loved you. Imagine asking why they've stayed with you for so long if they don't feel the same way about you as you do about them, and imagine they say they had hope that they might just wake up and feel that way one day. Imagine that you believe that wanting to love someone is really the first step towards being in love with them. Imagine you cry. A lot. Imagine the person you love is going to get a job far away and move. Imagine they don't want you to go with them. Imagine how hurt you feel when you remember the one time, over a year ago, when you asked and they said, "well, you'll have to come with me!" and you were so happy that things felt like they were working out the way you'd always imagined. Imagine that you'd decided years ago you wouldn't leave your job and move for anyone unless you were sure they were "the one." Imagine having decided you'd move for this person you love. Imagine realizing you never loved anyone before, not like this. This is different. Imagine being on the brink of depression, and that person being the only bright spot in your life, keeping you from teetering over the edge and losing yourself completely. Imagine they don't get that job. Imagine them devastated, and you feel like it's somehow your fault because you wanted to stay with them so badly. Imagine they still want to break up because they still don't love you. Imagine that they don't know how to do it, so they keep putting it off, avoiding you more and more. Imagine wanting to spend one more night in their arms, but they won't stay at your place anymore. Imagine sobbing harder than you ever have before in your entire life, your whole body in pain, and you don't know how to deal with it. Imagining feeling so alone that you almost believe no one else has ever felt this much pain and heartbreak before in the history of the universe, even though you know that can't possibly be right. Imagine deciding you'll be the one to end things because you can't take being avoided by your love any longer. Imagine you go to dinner as a couple one more time. Imagine it's basically perfect. Imagine you stop at the store before parting ways. Imagine you get in the car, and as you're driving back, you do it. You end the relationship. Imagine wanting someone else's happiness so badly that you sacrifice the only happiness you have. Imaging wanting to stay friends, but hoping you never have to see the person you love with someone else, even if you do just want them to be happy. Imagine never regretting a single moment they spent with you, but wanting to forget every second of it. Imagine being alone the night after you've broken up, and no one's around. You're completely alone. Imagine crying harder still, so hard that you're actually screaming. Imagine you're so unhappy that you've lost the will and the desire to do anything. But at least the person you love is happy now, at least you could do that one last thing for them. Imagine hoping that they appreciate your sacrifice, and that they don't realize just how much it ruined you.

Writing Doodle 032 - Broken Heart

May 25, 2158

Dearest Diary,

Relationships are funny things. Two people (or more, I suppose, but for me, just two) come together and sort of agree to be more than friends. Like, yea sure, I'll always be there for you... or somesuch.

Or not.

I loved him deeply, ferociously... with a passion he probably would have preferred to see me drive my career with instead. But I loved him. After three months with him, I had fallen - hard, fast, however you want to describe it - and I kept loving him through everything.

But depression and anxiety have a funny way of making you see the worst in everything. I still love him, but all I think about is how he doesn't love me, that I'm just a chore to him, that he'd rather hang out with his friends than with me. I cry a lot. I don't want to, but I'm not sure how to stop. 

I know I'd be alright without him, sure, but I don't want to be without him. He means so much to me now. I'm so terrified of losing him. But, you see... in my mind, he's already ended the relationship, and already shattered my heart into a million pieces, and it'll never be the same. Maybe it's worse because he's still here, still with me.

I am so, so happy whenever I get to spend time with him; I am so, so miserable when he leaves me behind. And I know it's all in my head, but...how do I get out of my own head? I don't know how to do this on my own. I don't know how to fix my broken heart - the heart that hasn't even been broken yet.

Love Always - yes, even when my heart is broken,

Jo Mosser

Writing Doodle 031 - Hopeless Romantic

As I sit here, watching my rom-coms and reading my racy romance novels, I realize something: I will never have this. All of my relationships, one after one, have been horrible failures. I will never be the person who has someone to love them. I'll love, like I always do, with my whole heart and soul, and every single time, I will be torn apart when it's over. But I will never have the happiness I desperately want.

At best, I'll have one of those tragic romances. I'll find the perfect woman, and she will love me with her whole heart and soul, but just when we both realize our love, and profess it, she'll die. I'll be left, a broken man, alone in this world until Death comes for me.

Writing Doodle 030 - Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

I have been very good this year. I did all my chores like mommy asked and even helped my little brother with his homework. I helped out at school too! And I let Bobby have the swing I was on even though I wasn't really done. I have been extra careful to be specially good all year cause this year I want a puppy please Santa.

I'm not crazy Santa. A puppy is the perfect present because just think about it! A puppy will always be there for me. Even if we move again and I have no friends at my new school I will still have my puppy. And if I feel sad my puppy will make me feel happy. My puppy will love me and won't run away. And I will also have to be responsible cause it's my puppy and I have to feed and care for my puppy just like Mommy does for me.

Please let me have a puppy Santa. I'll never ask for anything ever again I promise if you just bring me a puppy.

Love,
Jesse Marks

Writing Doodle 029 - Oneirataxia

Oneirataxia (n.) - The inability to distinguish between fantasy and reality.

---

Everyone told it was it just her imagination. Of course, she didn't believe them. They gave her pills to help with the delusions. The pills were awful, so she never took them. They just didn't understand. No one ever understood.

The world she saw was beautiful, full of color, life, and love. When they forced her to take the pills, it all went away. The world was grey, lonely, and full of hate.

Even if what she saw wasn't real, it's not like it was doing any harm. If anything, it made her a better person, a happier person. Was that really so bad? According to them, it was.

Writing Doodle 028 - Weight

It was impossible to move. The weight was almost too much to bear, and it made it harder and harder to breath. Where it had come from was one of the biggest mysteries, possibly never to be solved. The weight pressed down heavier and heavier. Tears still trickled, but the sobs had stopped due to the lack of air, the inability to breathe. At least the hyperventilating had stopped.

"Why," the word forced it's way out with what little breath was left.

Writing Doodle 027 - Homeless

A sign lay abandoned on the grass unnoticed. Somehow, it wondered where it's person had gone, and why he had left. No one passing seemed to notice or care. The sign, asking for just a little piece of kindness, stared up at the sun, the sidewalk so close, and cars racing by just beyond that. But it was just a sign, unable to do much of anything on its own.

Had the sign been psychic, it would have known that it's man had given up. The voices in his head kept him low, kept him depressed, and it had all finally gotten to him. The sign had slipped from his unwashed, uncared-for fingers to its final resting place in the grass. The man, staring at the ground as he tottered down the sidewalk, found a decent place under a bridge, off the beaten path. Better than the side of the road, he'd figured.

The sign wished for someone to notice it, notice that it was alone, without a person. It wanted someone to help. Someone? Anyone?

It was three days later when someone finally noticed the sign on the ground. Finally! The sign had almost given up hope! But the person simply made a face that clearly exhibited disgust, picked the sign up as though it were dangerous, and muttered something about littering before tossing the sign in the nearest trash.

The sign cried out, but no one heard.

The man's body was found far too much later.

Writing Doodle 026 - Adult

The moment she realized she was actually an adult hit her hard. Not exactly in a bad way, really. But it was hard. Like being slammed by a battering ram, right in the chest. It was a moment of crisis and enlightenment. A moment of joy and terror. She was an adult now. That meant no more homework, but a lot more housework, and a lot of other things she wan't really prepared to think about just yet. It was all new, all terrifyingly and excitingly new.

But it was all in the moment she realized that it had happened. It wasn't when she realized she did the dishes every single evening, or that she made a weekly shopping list. It wasn't even when she paid her taxes on her own for the first time. No, the moment she realized she was really, truly an adult was the moment she realized... she could type without looking at the keyboard in front of her. Never before had she done something like that-- she had always, always, looked at the keys to type. Until that moment when she became an adult.

Writing Doodle 025 - Selenophile

He loved her.

To those that knew, it was obvious, but to those that didn't, well, they simply didn't see the signs. Really, though, he loved her with his whole heart, with every piece of himself. Everything he did, he did for her.

And yet, they hardly saw one another. It was as though their lives were on complete opposite schedules. Still, he did what he could.

When he looked at her, she was radiant. Always glowing silver and fair, but never obscene in her beauty. She was perfect.

What he didn't realize, though, was that she would only glow beautifully when he could see her. He was the reason she shone. It was his light that caused hers. Perhaps he would never realize it. He was far too much in love to be reasonable, to see the reality.

She was the moon, and he the sun, and still he loved her like no one had ever loved before.

Writing Doodle 024 - Don't Cry

tw: suicide

Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I still care. I wish I was still there to text you "Good morning Girl Scout!" every day.

I'm here for you, even though you can't see me, or hear me, or feel me. I know you miss me... I can hear you all, and it hurts so much, I would almost do it again. I guess sometimes we just don't think things through. This was one of those times.

But don't you worry, 'cause every time you go to Taco Bell after work, I'm right there with you. I'll always be with you, watching over you.

And just because you never told me how important I was to you doesn't mean I don't know. I can still see everything you post, and I know. I know you were my best friend and I let you down, and I'm sorry.

All those texts you want to send me? Yea, I know about them. Of course I think that thing was funny, too. I'm laughing up here, even if you can't hear it at all.

So, I just want to let you know that I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I hurt you like that, but please don't do what I did. Please remember that you are special and there are so many people that love you. I love you, even if I'm not there to show you that I do anymore.

Writing Doodle 023 - Better Than Christmas

At the age of six, most children believe Christmas to be the most magical day of the year. For one little girl by the name of Beverly, though, this was not the case. Rather, Beverly found the most magical day of the year to be a day hardly thought of as magical: St. Patrick's Day.

On St. Patrick's Day, Beverly knew for a fact, that leprechauns would be out and about causing mischief and mayhem. Sure, Santa Claus brought gifts, but leprechauns were just so much more fun.

With a gleam in her eye, Beverly knew what she had to do: she had to catch a leprechaun. It wasn't going to be easy, though. Leprechauns were incredibly clever. She ran to her mother and tugged at her shirt, begging for a box that was big enough for a leprechaun to fit in. Of course, her mother thinks it's all in good fun and helps her find a suitable box.

Box all set up and decorated with aluminum foil and stickers, Beverly lay on the floor, peering beneath the box. Looking up at her mother, she says she needs several things: one of her mother's gold rings, a small cup of milk, and another small cup of Daddy's beer. Oh, and some thumbtacks! Confused, but wanting to kindle Beverly's imagination, her mother obliges the odd request, but keeps a careful eye on Beverly after that-- she didn't want her six-year-old daughter drinking any of Daddy's beer.

Milk, beer, and gold to catch the leprechaun's attention, and thumbtacks to ruin his shoes so he'll be forced to fix them before he can escape. It was perfect. Content with her trap, Beverly went to bed, a smile on her face and dreams of leprechauns in her head.

Writing Doodle 022 - In The Sky

Peering down, a small child stares at the vast burning ocean below with eyes full of terror and wonder. He has only just learned of the history of the earth. Years ago, the land used to be down there, in that burning mess. It was hard to believe. In fact, he wasn't quite sure he believed it. Maybe it was just a story. Another lie the adults told children-- like Santa or the Tooth Fairy. But maybe, just maybe, the story was true. Maybe mankind really had destroyed everything.

He began to wonder if the ground he stood on now was even genuine. Had mankind made these land masses to keep themselves from dying in the destruction they had wrought? After learning about how the world below had been destroyed, he could hardly find a reason to doubt it.

Honestly, he wished he'd never learned the truth.

Writing Doodle 021 - Wind

All I have to do is take one bite. Just one, and I'm gone. I turn over the apricot in my hand. It's skin is smooth, soft, and the fruit is too soft. It's over-ripe. It'll probably be sweet. Maybe too sweet, and I'm sure the juice will be sticky. But I want to get out of here, and this is the simplest way. I have no other choice, and so I bite into the over-ripe apricot.

The juice runs down my chin. It's sticky already, I can feel it. More juice is covering my hand, a small pool of it forming in the crook of my palm. It seems to be the only thing I can concentrate on. The rest of the world is slipping away. I realize I'm falling only just before I crash into the ground. The apricot slips from my grasp and rolls away lopsidedly. I just keep staring at my hand, though, amazed that I can't seem to feel my fingers anymore. Maybe this was a mistake.

* * * * *

I wake up after what feels like hours, maybe even days. There is a strong pain in my head that feels like someone's been hammering on it for a while. Another sharper pain flares to life when I try to sit up. I must have hit my head on something when I fell. I press my palm to my head automatically, as if it could cure the pain I feel. 

Finally, I look around, expecting to see the same place I was in before I took a bite of that apricot. Nothing is familiar. I'm somewhere completely new. There are no buildings, no furniture...nothing I recognize. The ground looks like it is made of precious gems, shining in the ambient light coming from some unseen source, but when I reach out to touch the glittering ground, it transforms before my eyes, turning into dust.

The handful of dust I picked up slips through my fingers, and as it reaches the ground, appears to turn back into shining jewels. I stand with caution, my hand no longer pressed to my head. The pain is the least of my worries.

The land is flat in every direction. There is nothing to see. I turn to the left, surveying the strange dream-like world around me. Nothing. I turn to the right, expecting to see the same nothingness, but as I turn, the world changes around me. I whip back to the left, and everything is gone. I can't help but wonder where I am, what's going on. Why did I take a bite of that fruit?

Slowly, I turn to the right again, the world coming to life around me. I stop when I see something in the distance. I recognize the shape, but I can't put my finger on why. Something about it draws me towards it, and I begin walking slowly, as though something could jump out at me at any moment.

As I walk towards the shape in the distance, the wind starts. At first, I think nothing of it. It's just a little wind. I keep going, but my steps have more conviction behind them now. I know that if I can just reach that shape, I'll have some answers. I don't know how I know this, but I know it's true nonetheless.

With each step I take, the wind blows more and more, harder and harder. Against me. It's as though the wind doesn't want me to get to that shape. Can the wind even have a mind of it's own, I wonder. I figure it's impossible, but I seem to be in an impossible place. Everything I knew about the world seems to be a lie here, so maybe, just maybe, the wind really does have thoughts and secrets like the rest of us.

I push forward against the wind. I have to lift my arm up to shield my eyes against it now, though. It's vicious, this wind, and it wants me gone. The shape in the distance doesn't seem to be getting any closer, but I don't trust my eyes anymore. Perhaps it is just the wind playing with my perception. I clench my teeth, duck my head, and push onward.

The wind is incredible. It's at least ten times as strong as anything I've ever experienced before, and I can hardly keep going. But I have to. I can't just give up now, I can't. Each step seems to take an hour as I struggle against the wind. I try to glance up, to see if I'm any closer to the shape I've been so desperately trying to reach, but the wind strings my face and forces me to keep my eyes shut tight. I feel like I've been walking against the wind for days now, so I have to be close. I must be close. If I'm not close, I don't know what I'll do. I pick up my foot to take another step forward and the wind seems intent on destroying me. It's strength is like nothing I ever could have imagined, and before I know it, I can no longer feel the ground beneath my feet. I'm being blown away. I suppose this is what leaves must feel like being tossed about by the wind. Still, I cannot open my eyes, and I have no idea where the wind might be taking me.

* * * * *

There is nothing I can do. I belong to the wind now. I can't even open my eyes. All I know is that I have been sailing in this wind forever. I am lost. Why did I ever bite into that apricot? I hope the wind will stop some day, that I'll be free, but I'm beginning to doubt. I am the wind's, and there is no escape.

Writing Doodle 020 - Who Are They

Pressed against the cold hard metal, she tries so hard to stay silent. They are coming for her.

Fear leaks from her body in the form of sweat, giving her turquoise skin a glistening look. They are so close, and she is terrified of what they might do to her. Kicking herself mentally, she tries not to think about it. Instead, she tries to think of a way off the damn ship.

She can't just walk off the ship, not now that they've already left the port. It would be certain death. Then again, maybe it would be better than waiting for them to find her. Maybe she could get in an escape pod-- all she'd have to do is give them the slip and make a run for it, hope that none of them are watching the escape pods from the control room.

The clatter of metal on metal comes from down the corridor and she gasps. Her hand rushes to cover her mouth as the sound escapes. Time is running out, and she knows it all too well. It's time to run again. She can only hope she can outrun them one more time.

Writing Doodle 019 - Alone

Being alone was never something I enjoyed. As a matter of fact, I actually always hated it. Being alone was the absolute worst thing that could ever happen to me. No one ever seemed to understand that, though. They figured that because I'm introverted, I always wanted to be alone. No, I don't. I get lonely, too. I get scared...

People would tell me there's nothing to be afraid of, y'know? I was just hearing things, or imagining something. I did my best to believe them. That was when it got bad.

I had convinced myself that there was nothing there, that the weird noises, the dark shapes were all in my head. I had an overactive imagination, and it was trying to bleed into reality. It's not like I was anywhere dangerous, either. I was just sitting at home, watching a movie. Alone.

You see, that's when they strike. The things that hide when other people are around. They make those weird noises, they're the dark shapes you think you see out of the corner of your eye. Once you've lulled yourself into a false sense of safety, they get you.

They got me.

Now I'm one of them. I'm sitting in the shadows, watching and waiting. When you least expect it, we'll be coming for you.

Writing Doodle 018 - All My Fault

She squeezes her eyes shut as if it could keep out the guilt.

It's clear before her, the accident. And it's all her fault, too. She asked him to drive her to work. It would have been just as easy for her to take the bus like she normally did, but no, she had to go and ask for a ride.

Now they were dead.

Not her and him-- no. Him and their friend who'd come along. The ride to work was uneventful, really. A few jokes here, laughs there. Normal. It was after they had dropped her off that it had all happened.

That damn intersection.

It was a confusing intersection, to say the very least. Not safe, really. Five-way intersection, no lights, just stop signs. No one ever really seems to know who's turn it is. The intersection has always been an accident waiting to happen. Well, it happened.

He was turning, and someone else decided to go at the same time and smashed into the side of his car. Their friend died on impact. He didn't die until the ambulance got there.

If it hadn't been for her, they'd both be alive right now. Now she'd never get the chance to tell him how she really felt. Now their friend would never be the godparent of her child.

She inhaled deeply, trying to keep back tears she didn't want everyone on the bus to see.

There was a vibration in her pocket. Must be her phone. A text, maybe. Opening her eyes, she pulls out the phone and looks at the message.

It's him. Of course it's him. He must have been really busy to not text her back after so many hours. She checks her messages and sees that their friend just read the last text she sent to him. She want to laugh, cry tears of relief, but knows the people on the bus would think she's crazy. It was all in her head.

That's what she gets for having an over-active imagination, though.

Writing Doodle 017 - Endland 02

How to Get to Endland

A Beginner's Guide

Getting to Endland isn't nearly as difficult as people make it out to be. In fact, once you figure out the hang of it, it's quite simple, really. The first few times may feel like a struggle, but don't worry, you'll get the knack of it by your forth try. And believe me, it's certainly worth whatever effort you put in.

Now, before you begin, it is highly recommended that you find a nice, solitary place to practice slipping away into Endland. I certainly suggest a room with a blank wall, as I've always found steps 3 and 4 to work best with a blank wall. Of course, that's just me. You may find you much prefer to always find Endland from the middle of the ocean. To each his own, I suppose!

Let's get started, shall we?

Step 1: Close Your Eyes

The first thing you need to do when trying to get to Endland is simple. You need to close your eyes. Why? Because many people seem to have trouble believing when all they can see is the real world surrounding them. Closing your eyes allows you to use your imagination, to picture Endland in your mind's eye. Knowing where you're going is half the battle.

Step 2: Believe

As one grows older, this step becomes more and more difficult. It is, however, quite essential. If you don't believe in Endland, there is no way you can possibly find it. You see, it is quite fond of hiding from those with closed or shallow minds, only opening itself for those who it believes will love and care for it. In other words, it will only show itself to those who believe it exists. This is why closing one's eyes becomes so essential-- it allows even the non-believers to use their imaginations and begin to believe, even just a little bit.

Step 3: Picture A Door

With your eyes still shut, you must imagine a door standing before you. Shut. The door you imagine should be a closed door, not open. This is very important. If the door is not shut, or if you picture an open doorway, it will not work. However, so long as the door is closed, it can be any kind of door you'd like: the door of a wardrobe; a small, round door; a castle gate; an intricately carved wooden door-- the choice is yours. But keep in mind, the door must be closed.

Step 4: Open The Door

Once you have the door, and your destination, very clearly defined in your head, carefully open your eyes. Standing before you should be the door you were just picturing in your mind. It may or may not be shimmering with something that looks like glitter-- I assure you, it is not glitter, but neither is it anything to worry about. Now, as long as you have done the first three steps correctly, you should be able to reach out and physically touch the door your imagination has manifested. If you can do that, you can open the door, which is highly recommended if you would like to enter Endland, which is, indeed, the whole point of this instructional. So there you have it, reach out and open your door.

Step 5: Step Through The Door

Once you have opened the door, you should see Endland through the doorway. It is imperative that you continue to believe, otherwise the door, and Endland with it, may very well disappear. However, if the door does not disappear, I encourage you to step through it quickly. Once you have stepped through the door, it will disappear behind you, but you will be in Endland, just as you wished.

* * * * *

So there you have it, instructions on how to get to Endland. For the return journey, please see How to Return from Endland: A Beginner's Guide. I do hope you enjoy your stay in the realm of Fata.