Post by rooke w. ashton; on Sept 20, 2012 9:09:13 GMT -5
+ o f m u s i c i a n s a n d b l a z i n g h e l l f i r e; ---
is a journal for Rooke W. Ashton.
Thank you for reading.
Rooke was in pain.
Whatever it was, he could remember. He only remembered the sharp, cold, biting metal. And the searing pain on his back, shoulders and neck. Agony would be too simple a word to describe what he was feeling now. He was just lost in a flood of chemicals that kept his body drunk and too heavy to move or even twitch, his senses intensified which both taunted him and drove him to the brink of insanity, his mind a blur with faint images and mumbled speeches and bittersweet memories.
The bittersweet memories drove him into a corner. And attacked him with anger, sorrow, hope and guilt all at once. He thought it was a sanctuary, but it was also his hell. Flashes of images rolled by. Too quickly for him to see, but his senses told him what he needed to know. And he begged it to stop.
W-Wait… Please… Please-
Rooke saw that he was in a park. Vaguely familiar, but the scenery was incomplete. Not to mention everything was cruelly monotone. A child ran up to him, a girl probably only two years old, laughing and giggling and calling out to him. Without hesitating, Rooke picked her up, laughing as well. He knew this little lady. It was his daughter, Anabell. A little young dark haired girl with the brightest hazelnut colored eyes with flecks of forest green. Anabell. Oh... My baby Anabell…
She touched his face, her little hands so gentle. Just like her mother… Eagerly, he looked around. And Anabell pointed at a tree and said something. He couldn't hear her sweet voice for some reason... Along with everything else. Why hadn't he noticed that before? But he looked at the tree, and it seemed to suddenly have a heavenly glow around it once he saw her.
His wife, Kaitlyn, was there. Waiting for him. And suddenly, Rooke felt his heart warm up, melting the long cold, empty space that was once occupied by the only person that once held it. If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up from it.
The memory was of his daughter's second birthday. Also the day he finally left his post from whatever military division he was in. His family needed him and the military respected his decision.
They celebrated it by bringing her to the park, her favorite place to play. Anabell enjoying the day as her loving parents played with her, told her stories of the wide open world and told her she could be anything in the world. That she could fly!
At the end of the day, they all took a nap under the tree. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves and ushered them to rest. Anabell all curled up between the two of them. He still remembered everything about his wife.
Her wonderful hazelnut and green eyes...
Her long dark blonde hair all braided up...
Never would he want this day to end.
Never.
But suddenly the scene faded- No! and the sharp, sudden, choking smell of smoke filled his lungs. No... Please...! Rooke sprang into action the moment he reached home in the late evening. His training and darkest fears taking control. Please! I... I don't want- The fire had already spread so much into the house! Everything was still blacks, whites and greys. Except for the fire. It looked and burned like fire, hellfire.
Rooke screamed for both, no sound came out. Like he had lost his voice. But the crackling of the fire blazed loudly and cruelly. Stop...! STOP...! A shriek came from upstairs and he scrambled. He found Kaitlyn unconscious in Anabell's room and a broken vase nearby. Without pausing to think what might have happened here, he somehow carried both wife and daughter outside, soothing his terrified little girl with calm tones.
But the night wasn't- Please don't conti- over yet. Please! Just-
Gunshots echoed and the fire was somehow silenced- NO-
Rooke was thrown from the force, he lost his girls within the same moment- NO STOP NO-
In a haze of red, he saw Kaitlyn lifeless, bleeding- STOP ST-
Anabell stopped screaming- PLEASE S-
Pain filled every cell in this body as they- STOP-
Masked assailants began to- STOP NO- break-
They tossed- He felt himself bei-
The fire burned his ski- AAUGGHHHH-
They then-
Drag-
"Rooke! Wake up! Snap outta it!"
Rooke jerked violently from his nightmare, panting and wheezing like he was just in the blaze. Like his lungs were still filled with smog and ash. He remembered that he was in his room, and June was right beside him. June Fischer. The person he was staying with. That June Fischer. With a face full of worry, she steadily calmed him down with a professional, soothing voice.
Once Rooke had returned to breathing properly, the ex-nurse disappeared for a short while, returning with a pitcher of water and an empty glass. ”Are you okay? I have never heard you scream like that...”
He didn’t realize how badly his head was throbbing, but it was starting to fade after he took some water. His hair was drenched, but he was cold as well. Apparently he broke out in cold sweat. The nightmare was the most vivid he’s had in a while, and it seemed to be getting worse every time. No amount of doctors or shrinks would seal these bad memories away and he needed it to stop... For his own sanity...
”Rooke?” For a minute, he forgot that June was still here.
”I’m fine now... Thank you for waking me up from that nightmare...” He just... Needed time alone now... ”I’m fine. Sorry for waking you up, but it’s all over now. Please... Just... Just go back to sleep.” Rooke didn’t want June to see how utterly pathetic he really was. But he was glad she left after a while, probably convinced that he really was alright.
Alone in his room, Rooke needed a solution to his problem. He needed to stop the nightmares...
But how?
is a journal for Rooke W. Ashton.
Thank you for reading.
--- ; + ; ---
entry ONE;
v i v i d n i g h t m a r e .
v i v i d n i g h t m a r e .
Rooke was in pain.
Whatever it was, he could remember. He only remembered the sharp, cold, biting metal. And the searing pain on his back, shoulders and neck. Agony would be too simple a word to describe what he was feeling now. He was just lost in a flood of chemicals that kept his body drunk and too heavy to move or even twitch, his senses intensified which both taunted him and drove him to the brink of insanity, his mind a blur with faint images and mumbled speeches and bittersweet memories.
The bittersweet memories drove him into a corner. And attacked him with anger, sorrow, hope and guilt all at once. He thought it was a sanctuary, but it was also his hell. Flashes of images rolled by. Too quickly for him to see, but his senses told him what he needed to know. And he begged it to stop.
W-Wait… Please… Please-
Rooke saw that he was in a park. Vaguely familiar, but the scenery was incomplete. Not to mention everything was cruelly monotone. A child ran up to him, a girl probably only two years old, laughing and giggling and calling out to him. Without hesitating, Rooke picked her up, laughing as well. He knew this little lady. It was his daughter, Anabell. A little young dark haired girl with the brightest hazelnut colored eyes with flecks of forest green. Anabell. Oh... My baby Anabell…
She touched his face, her little hands so gentle. Just like her mother… Eagerly, he looked around. And Anabell pointed at a tree and said something. He couldn't hear her sweet voice for some reason... Along with everything else. Why hadn't he noticed that before? But he looked at the tree, and it seemed to suddenly have a heavenly glow around it once he saw her.
His wife, Kaitlyn, was there. Waiting for him. And suddenly, Rooke felt his heart warm up, melting the long cold, empty space that was once occupied by the only person that once held it. If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up from it.
The memory was of his daughter's second birthday. Also the day he finally left his post from whatever military division he was in. His family needed him and the military respected his decision.
They celebrated it by bringing her to the park, her favorite place to play. Anabell enjoying the day as her loving parents played with her, told her stories of the wide open world and told her she could be anything in the world. That she could fly!
At the end of the day, they all took a nap under the tree. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves and ushered them to rest. Anabell all curled up between the two of them. He still remembered everything about his wife.
Her wonderful hazelnut and green eyes...
Her long dark blonde hair all braided up...
Never would he want this day to end.
Never.
But suddenly the scene faded- No! and the sharp, sudden, choking smell of smoke filled his lungs. No... Please...! Rooke sprang into action the moment he reached home in the late evening. His training and darkest fears taking control. Please! I... I don't want- The fire had already spread so much into the house! Everything was still blacks, whites and greys. Except for the fire. It looked and burned like fire, hellfire.
Rooke screamed for both, no sound came out. Like he had lost his voice. But the crackling of the fire blazed loudly and cruelly. Stop...! STOP...! A shriek came from upstairs and he scrambled. He found Kaitlyn unconscious in Anabell's room and a broken vase nearby. Without pausing to think what might have happened here, he somehow carried both wife and daughter outside, soothing his terrified little girl with calm tones.
But the night wasn't- Please don't conti- over yet. Please! Just-
Gunshots echoed and the fire was somehow silenced- NO-
Rooke was thrown from the force, he lost his girls within the same moment- NO STOP NO-
In a haze of red, he saw Kaitlyn lifeless, bleeding- STOP ST-
Anabell stopped screaming- PLEASE S-
Pain filled every cell in this body as they- STOP-
Masked assailants began to- STOP NO- break-
They tossed- He felt himself bei-
The fire burned his ski- AAUGGHHHH-
They then-
Drag-
"Rooke! Wake up! Snap outta it!"
Rooke jerked violently from his nightmare, panting and wheezing like he was just in the blaze. Like his lungs were still filled with smog and ash. He remembered that he was in his room, and June was right beside him. June Fischer. The person he was staying with. That June Fischer. With a face full of worry, she steadily calmed him down with a professional, soothing voice.
Once Rooke had returned to breathing properly, the ex-nurse disappeared for a short while, returning with a pitcher of water and an empty glass. ”Are you okay? I have never heard you scream like that...”
He didn’t realize how badly his head was throbbing, but it was starting to fade after he took some water. His hair was drenched, but he was cold as well. Apparently he broke out in cold sweat. The nightmare was the most vivid he’s had in a while, and it seemed to be getting worse every time. No amount of doctors or shrinks would seal these bad memories away and he needed it to stop... For his own sanity...
”Rooke?” For a minute, he forgot that June was still here.
”I’m fine now... Thank you for waking me up from that nightmare...” He just... Needed time alone now... ”I’m fine. Sorry for waking you up, but it’s all over now. Please... Just... Just go back to sleep.” Rooke didn’t want June to see how utterly pathetic he really was. But he was glad she left after a while, probably convinced that he really was alright.
Alone in his room, Rooke needed a solution to his problem. He needed to stop the nightmares...
But how?