The Raven and the Hawk - Episode 6

Hawk

By four o'clock Hawk's illness had him in bed. At first it was just a dull ache, but now he could barely stand the intense pains that coursed through every inch of his body. It felt as if his insides were stretching and bulging. Michelle was gone. She had left long before Hawk almost fainted on his way to bed.

Hawk lay flat on his back, arms and legs stretched taught. He gritted his teeth against the pain. And suddenly he was terrified, terrified of dying alone. There was something he had to do. Something he needed to...to what? Fear allied the virus and a cold rush of ice froze his blood. Hawk cried out, arching his back. He clawed the headboard, leaving scratch marks in the wood. He blacked out.

Hawk floated, suspended in darkness for what seemed an eternity. A voice whispered in his mind, so softly he could barely hear it.

"Who are you?" Hawk's voice echoed loudly in this emptiness.

"...know..."

"I can't understand you!" He reached out to the darkness and began to fall. Down, down, down he spun in an endless spiral. His hands reached for something to grab, anything. But there was nothing. Abruptly, the darkness disappeared. Hawk no longer fell, instead, he stood in a vast red desert. He knew where he was! He'd been here many times, for as long as he could remember.

"Someone, please help me!"

He heard the voice clearly this time. It was a girl. Hawk ran towards the sound, towards a huge cavern, gapping like a mouth in the red mountain. Fire immersed the inside of the cave. And the girl was standing in the middle. Her horrified cries cut into Hawk like a serrated knife. Without thinking, he rushed towards the flames.

"I'm here! I'll help you!"

She turned her head towards him. He braced himself in preparation of her burned and blistered skin. Instead, she was beautiful. Untouched by the flames, even her long black hair only reflected the firelight. He stood transfixed, forgetting about saving her. When her frightened eyes met his, she disappeared. And so did the fire.

"Hawk! Wake up!"

Hawk stirred, and he opened his eyes. The room was dark. His clothes were soaked with sweat, plastered to his skin as if he'd been drenched in a rainstorm. The pain was subsiding, not nearly as intense as before the dream. The dream. He couldn't remember the dream.

"Hawk! Are you okay?" Michelle leaned close to his face. The green light of his alarm clock illuminated her face so she looked almost alien.

"I can't remember the dream!" he said, agitated.

"Don't worry about that. There are more important things to be upset over. Like, what is wrong with you? Jimmy, come here."

"I'm sick," Hawk tried to stand but his limbs turned to jelly and he fell back onto the bed.

"Is he awake?" Jimmy asked as he opened the bedroom door. Light from the hallway chased away some of the gloom.

"Why is it so dark?" Hawk switched on the bedside lamp, squinting against the brightness.

"He's awake, but not well." Michelle put a hand on his forehead. "He does not feel feverish."

"But I ache everywhere," Hawk complained.

"We should take him to the hospital," Jimmy whispered to Michelle.

"Don't talk to me as if I'm not here. And I'm not going."

"Listen, Hawk, you've been delirious for the past two hours. Just now you were rambling about the desert being on fire." Michelle said.

That fragment of his dream came back. Red rocks, orange flames licking them...and...and...

"I'll start the car," Jimmy said. He turned towards the bedroom door.

"No! No hospital!" Hawk stood up, his knees threatened to buckle, but he fought the weakness and remained standing. "I'll be fine tomorrow. If I'm not, then you can take me to the hospital. Right now, i just need to take a bath. A nice hot bath."

"But--" Jimmy protested.

"It's no use," Michelle said. "As stubborn as he is, we'd never get him into the car."

"You're doing it again. I'm not dead yet." Hawk slammed the bathroom door shut. He filled the tub with hot water. As soon as he slid into the water, his aches melted away.

The song he'd been composing echoed in his mind. Desert Dawn. That's what he should name it. Desert Dawn.

Author vs Manuscript

Still in the ring Me vs Top Secret MG novel. I got in a few good punches this weekend. This editing stuff isn't as hard as I initially thought. Although, I almost deleted an entire chapter by mistake tonight. That's what I get for trying to work on a Monday night after a full day at the Corporate Place. Luckily, I have back ups, and back ups of my back ups.

The Raven and the Hawk - Episode 5

Raven

Raven was awed by her own painting. The image chilled her, it looked so real. As if the painting was a window and not a canvas at all. Satisfied, she signed her name.

Sunlight shone through the windows onto the painting. Dawn had come and gone. Raven stretched and opened the studio door. She found her mother in the kitchen, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper.

"Hey, Mom," she greeted and poured herself a glass of orange juice. The first sip was sour, it made her stomach churn uncomfortably. Raven dumped the juice down the sink.

"Raven, it's after twelve. You really need to stop this. You're missing too much school."

"I didn't realize it was so late."

"You never do."

"I'm sorry, Mom, but you should see the painting I did."

"I'm sure it's lovely, but you only have one month left until graduation, Raven."

"Mom, I'm not going to fail," Raven said. "You should have more faith in me."

"Get dressed and go to school," her mother ordered and patted her hair at the same time.

Raven arrived at her locker just as lunch let out. She hummed as she collected her notebooks for the next two classes.

"What are you humming?"

Raven turned and smiled at her boyfriend. "Hi, Jesse. How has your day been?"

"Horrible, until now," he grinned. "What were you humming?"

Raven shrugged. "I don't know." The song echoed in her head. It reminded her of her dream. A desert at dawn. Haunting.

Jesse frowned as he studied her face.

"What?" Raven asked.

"Are you feeling okay? You look pale."

"Now that you mention it, I am feeling sort of funny. I was fine while I was painting."

"Raven, if the world blew up while you were painting, you wouldn't even know it."

Raven giggled, sheepishly.

The warning bell rang and the halls grew crowded as students hurried to classes. Jesse slid his fingers into hers and walked down the hallway. "So, what do you want to do for your birthday?"

"We still have five days to decide."

"But it's your eighteenth birthday. It has to be special."

"You surprise me, then."

Jesse grinned and kissed her goodbye before hurrying off to his Physics class. Raven entered her English class and sat down. It seemed that acknowledging her illness had made it worse. Her nose started to run like a faucet. She ran out of tissue and had to leave class for the bathroom to use toilet paper, which scratched the skin of her nose. Her head grew heavy, her skin suddenly clammy, and she was having trouble breathing.

"It's so hot in here," she said to her reflection. Her face was dripping with perspiration. Her dark almond shaped eyes shone with a reddish sheen, or was that just an illusion? Her vision was blurring. Raven pulled a yard of toilet paper off a roll and hurried into the empty halls. It wasn't any cooler in the hallway. The lockers and tile floor spun around her. Raven leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. The dizziness gave way to nausea and she wished she had stayed in the bathroom. She gritted her teeth until the nausea passed, but her consciousness was slipping. Can't...stay...awake...

A dream unfolded as soon as her eyes closed.

She was young. A fire crackled and danced and soared before her. It was as tall as she was. It mezmerized her. Through the dancing flames she caught a glimpse of a glimmering green pool. On the other side of the pool stood a dark figure. She did not know who it was, but she was afraid, nevertheless.

A hand on her back pushed her around the flames and into the shallow green water. The water swirled around her feet unpleasantly. Raven did not know how to swim. She hated water. And she wanted out, now.

"It's okay, Raven. Don't be frightened. Remember what you have to do."

But she was afraid. As she waded deeper in the warm water, the harder it was for her to move. The other figure moved towards her, the one she was supposed to hurt...

Raven screamed, bolting upright.

Jesse was shaking her. Faces surrounded her, swimming in and out of focus.

"Thank God! Raven, you scared me to death!"

"Jesse? What happened?" She tried to stand up, but fell back, too weak. Jesse caught her. Everyone was talking at once, making her head spin.

"What's wrong with you?" Jesse placed a hand on her forehead. "You're freezing!"

"I don't feel so well." Raven shut her eyes, falling unconscious again. Jesse shook her awake. "The world is spinning."

And it was. She was dizzy and so tired. So tired.

"Someone call an ambulance!" Jesse yelled. "Stop crowding her!"

"Did she OD?" someone asked.

"Is she dead?" someone else asked.

"Jesse? Why can't I fly?" Raven whispered.

She could feel his arms around her, lifting. Her head pounded. She was so thirsty, so thirsty. She needed a drink or she was going to die.

"Jesse?"

The world spun again and then grew dark.

Author vs Manuscript

Currently in the ring: Me vs First Draft (aka top secret MG novel). First Draft is winning.

Whew, this is much harder than I anticipated. Got to keep fighting . . .

The Raven and the Hawk - Episode 4

Malcolm

Malcolm Trent walked swiftly down the hallway, his shiny black shoes echoing like gunshots in the empty passage. He tugged on the sleeves of his suit, pulling out nonexistent wrinkles, then did the same to the hem of his jacket. He smoothed his hair. He despised this place. Despised the white walls, despised the glaring lights, and despised the smell of bleach that always hung thickly in the air. It gave him a headache.

The hallway ended at a metal door. Malcolm slid his hand into the black identifier attached to the wall next to the door. He waited for the familiar prick as it drew blood for analyzation. After series of beeps and blurts a green light shone, confirming his DNA for identification purposes and that he was currently disease and virus free. The lock clicked and groaned. Malcolm pulled the door open and entered the quarantine room. The bacteria killing vapor enveloped him. Worthless. A waist of money. Nothing he carried on his clothes could harm her.

His heart beat fast at the thought of her, and a nervous sweat sprung up on his skin. Soon, he thought. Soon, she would realize why she belonged with him.

Soon.

Feeling Proud

In trying to decide the best route to take to edit the first draft of my novel, I decided to print it out and read through it that way. This turned out to be a great idea. I've been working on this book for approximately two years, writing usually only on weekends. Just seeing text on the computer screen in no way prepared me for what it looked like printed out. I mean, seriously, this look like a real book. With lots of pages! I am suddenly awestruck by my accomplishment. Sure it needs work, maybe a lot, but look. Look!

The Raven and The Hawk - Episode 3

Hawk

Hawk hummed the new song he was creating as he dusted his bookshelves. The tune was soft, haunting. And he could not get it out of his head. Later, he would try out the tune with his guitar. But first, he had to finish cleaning the apartment. He had started an hour ago and he was only on the third shelf. He was getting distracted by the books, pulling them out one by one and rereading some of his favorite scenes.

Hawk did not even realize Michelle was in the apartment until she tapped his shoulder.

"Hey, what's up?" He replaced Anne Rice's Interview with the Vampire onto the shelf.

"I knocked three times."

"Oh. I guess I was concentrating too hard." He yawned, running a hand through his messy hair.

"What are you doing?" Michelle asked.

"Dusting."

She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "I missed you yesterday."

Hawk stood up, stretching. A dull ache was creeping through his bones. Maybe he was coming down with something. Hawk had the worst immune system. He seemed to catch every single virus going around.

"So. What did you do?" Michelle asked, following Hawk into the kitchen.

"When?"

"Yesterday," she sighed audibly.

He shrugged, thinking back to yesterday. What had he done? "Oh yeah, I started a new song." As he reached into the cupboard for the coffee grounds, Michelle hugged him, smacking a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Hawk tensed and squirmed out of her grasp. He held up the coffee pot to her. "Do you want some?"

Michelle shook her head, making a 'yuck' face. Hawk yawned again. He needed the caffeine more than he'd thought.

"So, what's the new song about?"

"A girl."

"Really?" Michelle swayed on her feet grinning at him. "Anyone we know?"

"No."

Her smile froze. Too late, Hawk realized she had hoped the song was about her. He looked away from her face and glared at the coffee pot, willing it to brew faster.

"It's about Becky, isn't it!"

"What makes you say that?" Hawk was stunned by her accusation.

She shot him a cold look. "What am I supposed to think, Hawk? You never want to spend time with me anymore. And Becky . . . well, you know her. She'd do anything to get you back!"

"Michelle, I swear, I'm not getting back together with Becky. I haven't even seen her for months!"

"Just admit it! You don't want to be with me!" She turned away, her blonde hair falling over her face. The dark roots were beginning to show. She should dye it back to her natural color. He shifted from one foot to the other, the right thing to say lost to him.

"I care about you, Hawk." Her voice was quiet. She faced him again.

Hawk was surprised at the tears on her cheeks. Michelle never cried.

"But I'm worried. You never want to go out anymore. I thought . . . I mean . . . is it me? You don't want to spend time with me?"

"No. No, that's not it," Hawk held his hands to her. She just stared at his palms, scrutinizing them it seemed. "It's just that I value my time alone," he said lamely.

Michelle sighed. "But you are always alone. I like to be with you. I like to go out, not stay cooped up in this apartment all the time. And it would be nice if you actually invited me over, rather than just wait for me to show up."

Hawk fell onto the couch and ran his hand through his hair. His mind was whirring. He couldn't think of the right words to say to her.

"Hawk?" Michelle sat cross legged on the couch, facing him. She ran her hand down the left side of his face. Her hand was warm and soft. Hawk breathed deeply, savoring her touch. But why couldn't he tell her that? Why did words fail him? Because he knew that one day she would leave, and then . . .

"Do you know how much I adore you?" Michelle whispered, tugging at his hair.

He dared to look her in the eyes.

She smiled and shook her head in amazement. "You need a hair cut. But the shagginess suits you." She sighed again, her smile sad. "Why do I put up with you?"

Hawk shrugged and leaned in to kiss her.