La Vegetariana Loca

Here are some random ramblings of a girl that will probably end up in an insane asylum sometime in her near future...Kookookachoo. She loves her Queen, she loves her Beatles and her Who and her Zeppy and her music in general. She loves her writing. She loves love. And she loves you. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.

Sunday, March 25, 2007

Just messing around...

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Well, I haven't written fantasy in a while (last time I did, I got mad at all of my characters, and killed them all off), and I rarely use third person...Anywho, I got this idea for a fantasy story, and this is what I came up with over yesterday and today. I was more or less just messing around; I'm not *officially* writing it because I haven't finished my other novel yet (267 pages thus far). So, basically I just want you to tell me what you think! Am I wasting my time? Or should I continue with this? And I know it doesn't make scadfuls of sense, but that's because, like I said, I was just messing around...Here we go!

Krishna shook his head slowly, his mauve eyes screwed up in frustration, “Kami, you just had to take her in, didn’t you?”
The young man in front of him, with stringy, dark brown hair and a rat-like face, mouthed wordlessly.
“Just…stop. Please. You’re giving me a headache,” Krishna sighed.
The girl that Kami held in his arms stirred in her sleep.
“Please don’t be angry with me,” Kami whispered, “and even more so, not at her. It was cold and rainy and wet and…”
“…and you should have left her where she was,” Krishna finished.
“But she…”
“I don’t want to hear another word. Now, go…” he said, pointing to the flap of the tent, “Put her back in the woods.”
“No!” Kami hissed.
Arching one perfect eyebrow and crossing his arms against his chest, Krishna lightly asked, “Are you defying me?”
“No! I mean, yes! I mean…”
Krishna gently plucked the girl from the arms that held her, taking her into his own, “You found her in the woods, am I not correct?”
Kami said nothing; his hands folded in his lap seemed to have captured his attention.
“That’s what I thought.”
Krishna, carrying the girl, left the tent, and stepped out into the rainy night.
“You could have caused me a lot of grief, you know that?” he asked her, glancing down at her slumbering form as he walked. Raindrops hit her skin, lingered, and then fell to the overgrown, green grass at Krishna’s feet. “All I need is one more person to have following me around on my pilgrimage. One mortal is enough to worry about, but you expect me to deal with two of you?” he shook his head, laughing quietly.
He entered the woods, stepping into its clutch of moss and dirt. He continued walking, his bare feet squishing down into the freshly made mud.
The girl stirred again, only to turn towards him, and bury her head in his abdomen.
“No, no, no,” Krishna said in his high, clipped voice, “You’re staying here.”
He stooped down on his knees, water soaking through his trousers. He laid her down on the ground.
Her eyes fluttered open; she squinted against the moonlight, focusing on Krishna.
She clutched his hand.
“You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?” he said, furrowing his brow just slightly.
“Where’s Daddy?” she asked, appearing even more helpless than she had before.
“…I beg your pardon?”
The girl sat up, searching frantically with her mismatched eyes: one warm, brown one, the other forget-me-not blue. “Where’s Daddy?” she repeated.
Krishna stood, looking down at the girl, “What’s your name, child?”
She stood, and looked up at Krishna, irritated, “Where is he?”
“I’m afraid I have no idea who you’re talking about.”
“H-he’s fairly close to my height, black hair...where is he?” she asked, her eyes darting amongst the trees.
“You need to get some sleep, child. You’re delirious,” Krishna said softly, the rain tapping repeatedly on his shoulders.
“Help me find him!” she demanded weakly. She turned to go deeper into the woods, but stumbled.
“Whoa, easy,” Krishna clutched her arm, stabilizing her.
“He was just right with me! Right there, see?” she pointed to a human-shaped form in the moss, “Right there.”
“Nobody’s here. Just you and me. Are you feeling alright?”
She spared him just a glance before filling her lungs and bellowing into the night, “DADDY!”
Krishna’s eyes grew large in fear; he clapped his hand over her mouth, “SH! Do you want the Agrata to find me?”
The girl, through Krishna’s fingers, screamed again.
“SH!” Krishna pushed, then gently removed his hand.
“You have to help me find him,” she urged.
“So this is why Kami took her in?” Krishna mused, “I can see why.”
“Please…” the girl begged, every fiber of her being pleading.
Sighing, just slightly impatiently, Krishna said, “Fine. Let’s get started, then.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, then, taking Krishna by the hand, delved deeper into the trees.
They were running, hand in hand, jumping over knarled roots. Every now and again, the girl stumbled; Krishna helped her up.
“I’m helping an insane child,” Krishna thought, “I could just leave her now; she probably wouldn’t know the difference.”
As if in response to that thought, the girl’s grip on his hand became even tighter.
“Okay, so leaving isn’t an option. But I’ve got to get through her head that no one’s there…Why is it always me that gets tangled up with the mortals?”
Then, all of a sudden, the girl stopped, her face twisted up in horror. Krishna stopped short at her side, steadying himself by taking hold of her shoulder.
“No…” the girl whispered, shaking her head, “No, no, no…”
Krishna looked concernedly down at her, a lone raindrop rolling off of the tip of his nose.
The girl caught his eyes, then pointed slightly away from the direction of their path.
An insignificant looking man, clad in a plain, white tunic and black trousers, lay spread eagled in the moss. His hair was black, and his skin was much too pale to belong to the living.
“No!” the girl cried, running to the man’s side, kneeling, “No, please…” she took his hand, feeling all along his forearm for a pulse.
She found none.
“NO!” the girl wailed, more tears streaming down her cheeks than raindrops. She threw herself across the man’s corpse, her entire body shaking with sobs.
Krishna cocked his head to the side, his sopping, blonde curls falling. He had seen that face before…
Then it hit him. And when it hit him, it hit him hard.
Things were a lot worse than he had thought they were.


  • At 12:03 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Hey cool! I love stories like this, and before, when I was writing one, I did the same thing as you and ended up killing most of them off:P I think it's really good:D


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