Stories

Don’t go stealing this cuz I got it all copyright and stuff. so there

HEre are a couple of stories I’ve written

The Ghost of Donegal

               “Dad, tell me again why you keep that big heavy locket around your neck when you sail. It can’t be comfortable.” You know why, but time spent sitting on the porch waiting for your mother to finish fixing supper is always passed quicker with a story. “Haven’t I told you already my boy? Maybe your memory is getting soft?” Your father laughs at you and lights his pipe, he takes a big slow breath and sinks deeper into his chair. “Alright then.”

“Many, many years ago when the rain still fell in shades of green, there was a tiny small child by the name of Madailein. She lived with her family in a fishing town called Killybegs, situated in Donegal. In a stone cottage she stayed with her father and mother. She was small and thin and blessed with the most amazing blue eyes. They were big and bright like precious gems shimmering endlessly, no matter how low the light. Her mother would joke that a man could fall so in love with Madailein’s eyes, that he would forget the rest of her. When she looked at you, you wanted to tell her everything, make confessions as if you were in front of your Holy Father. You wanted to pour out your deepest emotions and darkest fears onto the shoulders of this innocent child. She had eyes that knew more than she did. They had a power over anyone that looked into them; something about them was calming, made you want to do whatever she asked without fear of consequence. It is because of her eyes that many people thought that animals were so attracted to her. She would watch the many creatures scurrying about in their busy tasks for hours, and when she held out her finger without fail a bird would light upon it. Were she to set bread on the ground any manner of beast might just walk up and nibble at it. She could pet any wolf on its head if she wished, and she had, many times. She had seen it her duty to care for any animal that came to her, some hurting, some hungry but all loved. People who knew the family believed that she had been born with the eyes of St. Francis. They thought it best that she never know that her father was a fisherman, and that she never see what living thing her mother cut up for their stews. It was widely believed that she would be too heartbroken to live.

“When Madailein grew to sixteen years, it was time that she be wed. She had blossomed into a lovely young woman with auburn hair and legs that went on for ten centuries, and of course, eyes that had only grown more beautiful and compelling. She had been courted for some time by a young man who had agreed with her parents to never speak of a fisherman’s doings. They were happily married and given a cottage by the sea. As the first months of their marriage went by, Madailein began to wonder about her husband’s work. She begged on many occasions to join him, but he had been warned and never looked her in the eyes when she asked. She was refused each time he went to sea. She got it into her head that she, being his wife and all, deserved to see what was what. So the next morning before the dawn broke she followed him down to the docks where his boat sat atop the water. After he climbed aboard she stowed herself away in an empty supply box, and peeked out of the top to watch him as he prepared to set sail.

“They sailed against the rising sun, its rays lighting up the tops of the water. Madailein watched her husband with great curiosity as he tossed his wide net into the ocean. He let it sink and waited. After some time he drew it in from the water and it was fat with struggling fish. Madailein’s eyes grew wide with terror, she watched them flop and gasp with dwindling fervor. Slowly, one by one, they all were still. She knew with the heaviness of her heart they all were dead. Her face got hot and she cried. She leapt up from her hiding place and called to her husband. She begged for an answer sobbing. She cried out like a freshly made widow. He was so surprised by his wife that he forgot to keep his wits about him. He looked into her eyes and couldn’t help but tell the truth. He emptied out the contents of his heart and soul; he told her that every man in Killybegs did this, that the food she ate every night was once a happy fish in the sea. He fell to his knees cried. Although he did not know why, he was overcome with sadness and regret. He looked to Madailein who was hastily throwing the suffocated fish back into the sea, he saw her beauty and her love for all things living and he felt ill.  He caught her eye and knew that he must act. He took up his fishing knife and kissed her. He prayed in the name of God that he would be forgiven for his deeds and took her close to him. The poor afflicted man gazed for a long moment into her eyes and killed her.  Her blood spilled over his hands and he pushed her into the sea. He went mad there on that boat, and never returned to Killybegs. It is thought that, because she did not take her own life, she was welcomed in heaven, but because she could not grant herself forgiveness her soul still knows no rest. 

“These days any young sailor that goes out to make a living must be sure he has a mate to watch him while he sleeps. For every man who sails from Killybegs is visited in his dreams by a beautiful auburn haired woman, one with legs that last for centuries and eyes that shine like gemstones. If he isn’t careful, or doesn’t have his wits about him, he’ll surely go mad in those eyes, and kill himself for the love of them.

“But I fish alone, Sean my boy, and that is why I keep a locket of your dear mother’s face with me always. As long as I have her sweet eyes to look into, no others shall tempt me. I expect that you’ll keep a picture of your girl on you too when you start?”

You smile at your father and agree. You don’t believe his story but you’ll have a locket just the same, and probably tell your son the same tale. All men in Killybegs know it, all the boys have heard it, but whether many truly believe or not, you are not sure. Your mother calls you in for dinner; it’s finally time to eat.

  story #2

Tick Tick Tick

Tick, tick, tick, tick . . . The galaxy in front of Mona was ticking. Why was it ticking? What right did a galaxy have to tick? A terrible screeching sound was approaching fast. A huge flash of light and then the sound was moving away. Mona was experiencing the Doppler effect first hand as she wondered how fast that comet had actually been moving when it passed her. She felt a shiver and a breeze. A breeze? "There a

re no breezes in space!" she screamed. She wrapped her arms around herself and felt her own warm skin. "Goodness!" She declared, having discovered the tatters that had once been a business casual blouse. Another high pitched howl preceded and followed another passing comet. Mona laughed to herself "It’s raining comets!" She turned away from the ticking galaxy to examine her situation. There is a rumbling in the distance. Far away in the rapidly expanding sky a little purple nebula was flashing with tiny eruptions, no bigger than a solar system. Mona looked up. (Rather, she looked in the direction she assumed was up.) She saw parting clouds that revealed a smooth blue sky. What? No, no, no, there are no blue skies in space either. Another icy breeze and violent shivers. Mona wondered how it was that her skin stays so warm in this chilly place. She sighs and lets her head fall back onto something hard. "What am I laying on?" She ponders. Her lids quickly grow heavy and her eyes close. Drifting, drifting, drifting over the edge of sleep and back. If only that galaxy would stop ticking.

A floating feeling. Mona opens her eyes and sees herself maybe fifty feet below her, on a hot black surface. She could see her own chest rising and falling quickly, like a sleeping person having a nightmare. Was she dreaming now? Had she not been before? Was she dreaming that she was dreaming? A sudden, sharp, horrifying pain. Mona’s eyes jumped open. There was a shrill ringing in her ears. Why did it hurt so much? "OW OOOOW" She cried out grabbing her head at the ears on both sides. Whats that? Hot, sticky liquid flowing from her ears, through her fingers, running down her jaw and neck. She looked at her hands and saw them painted red. Frantically she started to wipe the blood on her blouse and pants. She was in pain, more pain than she had ever known, a pain she was sure would kill her.

Light. Clean, bloodless, blinding light. An empty feeling, a hungry feeling pounding on Mona’s stomach. There was that ticking again, but as far as she could tell, no galaxies. Her chest felt hollow. She could hear comets passing again, she looked for them but only saw the vacuous light fading around her. Beat, fade, beat, fade, beat, fade. From white to gray to black to blacker.

Shock! Chest pain! Mona’s eyes jumped open. She saw a smooth blue sky bisected by a thick black pillar of smoke. All around her on the pavement were shards of glass and little pieces of burned paper. She heard her comets passing, now sounding more like police sirens. Someone yelled "We got her!" The handsome paramedic looked down at her and smiled. "We almost lost you there."