This feeling of extreme helplessness
The horrid, bile filled movement of my lips.
The knowledge that i'm going to hurt you
Make you hurt
Make you hate me

I'm so, so sorry
I didn't want it to be like this
Din't want you to hate me, that is.
Please try to understand.


I'm sorry, Honey.

Second thoughts on marriage: Did you know if you rearrange the letters in "mother-in-law" you can come out with "Woman Hitler"?

Moments passed before i realised what had happened. I stood there, staring at the sky, totally and intoxicatingly numb. I couldn't feel a thing. I just...was...for a while. No being of myself remained in the hollow husk of this breathing thing. Like a dead thing walking, i suppose.
The screech of seagulls fell on my deaf ears, my eyes horrifed and wide as i stared at the battlefield before me. The long, bloodied pathway leading up into the quiet village of my home, the place i had grown up. Now it ws strewn with bodies. Fleetingly, a vision passed before my eyes. A small girl, laughing, running up the path. The wind tossed her blond curls about playfully, and she shrieked with joy at nothing in particular. Between the bodies she darted, laughing, and then, she faded away, as she rounded the corner on the way upto the pele tower.
The Scots had most definatley been to my village. How could they not? Our small community had been raided several times in the past year, however, our Queen , Elizabeth the 1st, had sent troops to drive them back.
It wasn't raiding season. Why? How..
We never did anything to hurt anyone.

A sudden thump brought me back to my senses. The stench of blood and gore brought bile rushing into my throat, and i covered my mouth with both hands to stop myself throwing up. A high pitched whine started up, and it was a few moments before i realised that it was me, whining in fear and grief. Lurching to my feet, i ran for the village, tears streaming down my face, feeling sick. Trying to dodge the bodies, i didn't see one dying soldier. He saw me though. Grabbing my ankle, he sent me plummeting to the ground. The hard rock scraped my cheek, grazing my face as my hands became cut and bloodied at the imapct, my knee jarring horribly as it hit the dirt. The solider laughed, blood bubbling up to froth unpleasantly between his lips. My eyes widened in horror. My attacker was a scot, and he held a scimitar. I kicked out, aiming for the spear shaft buried in his chest. Feeling the wood sink a little further in, his pain rent scream shot like a startled bird thorugh the blue skies, and i was free again. Stumbling now, my knee aching, i made my way up to my village, cursing my parents for giving me chores, and yet pain filled at the thought that they might be lying dead.

Smoke curled into the sky, and at that moment, my heart shattered. Screaming, i ran down the hill, a madwoman in the throes of fury and greif. The small houses, huts, really, burning, children and men dead in the streets. I collapsed outside my parents hut,next to the bleeding bodies of my mother and father. Blood covered my clothes, and the fire, scorned me, it's blazing heat scorching my face. I couldn't bring myself to look up. The pele tower stood strong and tall in the midst of this chaos, a fortress of stone in the sea of destruction.

It's in those moments that you know that the world is never going to be the same again. Those scant few seconds whereupon the world seems to tilt and you know, just, know that you're going to have to run.
That's what happened to me. Sat up here on a high ledge above the city, looking down from the disused church that i hide in, i write, and hope. Hope i don't have to run again.
The creatures came in the middle of the night, screaming, howling beings with no faces. None of us knew what to do. Some fought, some ran. I'm ashamed to say i'm one of the ones that ran. I had my little sister with me. I couldn't let her get hurt while i fought. I had to run, though i'm not proud of it, by any means.
It was almost ethereal. Running full pelt through the forsets outside the manor, my aching arms full of a wailing three year old, the howling pitch of noise following us deeper and deeper into the blackness. I thought it would never end. My sister, poor child, had no idea what was going on, screaming for mother. For Father. That was a hopeless wish. I considered hiding her, and coming back ot collect her, but i knew that as soon as i left her, she would scream, and cry, and be caught. The machines, for that is what they seemed to be, were catching up. Why they had targeted an orphanage, i don't know. What could children ever do to them. We needed to get away, but where to? Pain was starting to seize my overworked limbs, breath catching horribly in my throat. If i didn't keep going, we'd be caught.
Stumbling forwards, through a thick bush, i tumbled out into a clearing. A clearing with no exit. A sheer cliff face reached up into the skies, a huge expanse of rock. I would never make it with my sister in tow. So i did the only thing that i thought would work at the time. I knocked her out. Lying her still body under a thick pile of fallen branches, i leapt for the cliff face, clawing my way up the hard rock, hgoping against hope she would still be there when i came back for her.

I'm alone up here, you know. No one up here with me. The city sounds drift up. Bawdy shouting, the shrieks of women, holwing of animals, the rattle of horse-drawn carriages. And a disused church with a girl on top. A girl with naught but a pen, a notebook, and memories.

I dream of escaping,
of mountains capped in white
and sea's darkened maw
Plains that seem
endless in their void

I dream not in sleep,
but in the day,
whiling away the hours with
fanciful ideas
Travel, and leaving

I dream. Tell me what you dream.

Fountains Abbey


I'm sure i've seen this place
The mighty pillars
This place of worship
Sad and empty in the poignancy of decay.

The imposing tower
Stretches like the forever
See this way
through to eternity

The underground,
dripping with lost sounds
The melody of long forgotten voices
In my mind, in my soul.

Long forgotten,
But not lost,
The seeing crystals spin
In blurred confusion

I know this place,
Am i home?
In this...otherworldly chapel
It is not my place.

Not for who i am,
Not for what i am,
For how can a witch dwell
In the Abbey of Fountains?

In this heart
In this mind
I can see,
No way behind
I lose myself
In tattered blinds,
The petals fall
Decay reminds
Me of the day
You went away.
You went away.

Smile

Big grin,
wolf like in it's poignancy
Laughter ringing
out into the world

Sunlight streaming
Around the green tipped
Leaves as spring breaks
out into the winter remains

The brightness is the key
The fitting metal
to the lock of inefficency.
Smile, please.

What Am I To You?

You do not walk in this world
You are destruction
Absolute
You sleep on a bed of bones


And so i wait for you
Here at home
I wait to hug you,
To make you smile once again

Am i your salvation?
I don't know,
You tell me,
But all i know?

You're not alone.

The desolated church stood abandoned and forlorn amidst the leaves of the forest. I felt tears welling behind my eyes, inexplicably saddned by this morose sight. Moonlight spilled like silver glass onto the building, moss and mould clinging to the holy, cracked and broken stones in a fit of devilish hatred. The building seemed medieval, built in gothic repose, proud and adament in it's ageing decay, refusing to submit to the creeper vines that wound around it's arches, the skeletal remains of the roof poking through as a corpse to the battered light would strive. I leant heavily on the young rowan tree beside me, a blessing on my lips. I should not be here. Me, with my own idea of faith, me, myself, and my thoughts. Sliding the heavy backpack from my aching shoulders, i slunk, almost fearfully, towards the doorway. This in itself was an ugly duckling. The beautiful carved arch almost hidden under ivy, the wooden doors rotting, strong, and stinking. Silently, i mouthed an apology to the Christian God, hoping i wasn't offending what he stood for. The beauty of the decaying, destroyed church took away my breath, leaving my still form in the doorway, terror slowly sinking into my bones, the knowledge that i shouldn't be here, that i should leave and pretend i had never found this sacred place eating away at my concience.
There were only six rows of pews, the delicate wood eaten away in some parts. The floor, for the most part was still clear of debris and creepers, the wood of the roof long having been either pillaged for firewood, or disintegrated into dust.
There, carved like an everlasting reminder of the faith, celtic cross. This was no Christian Church. Calm streamed over me, white light edging my vision as i felt power surge in a dizzying rush through me. I was safe.


A soft smile graced my mouth, as i thought to my deities.
Turning, i left the chapel, walking out into the blackness, unafraid, and brazen.