Keeper of the Scrolls
 

A few short stories, some works in progress... comments and crits most welcome. At the moment, all stories posted are one-shots.
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Do I know you?

“We don’t know if he’ll wake up any time soon, or if he’ll remember anything. The blow he took to the head was a really bad one. We sincerely hope his memory wasn’t affected but we can’t promise anything, I’m terribly sorry.”

The words felt like a knife to the heart. His own brother wouldn’t remember him? He couldn’t take the thought. His steps were slow and steady as he stepped into the white, sterile room, a soft shiver coursing up his back. He hated hospitals, so did his brother, but there wasn’t a thing he could do about it, the younger man was severely wounded and no amount of home-based medicine or care would have sufficed.

Sighing, he sat in the chair by the bedside and gingerly picked up the pale hand from the bed and settled it between two of his own. It was cold, but the doctor had said that it was normal, he would warm up shortly. It was a miracle he wasn’t still in ICU.

“You gotta wake up, you know that, don’t you? You gotta wake up, you gotta look at me and smile in that way that makes you you. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you? Yeah. I love it when you smile like that, I bet the women swoon.” A soft, wry chuckle escaped his throat before he closed his eyes, fighting back the tears as he bent his head down lightly and pressed his forehead to the hand he was holding. “You gotta wake up, Gabe.”

What happened next was shocking in a few ways and it is something he may never forget. There came a groan from just a foot or so from him, from the top of the bed where that head had been resting on a pristine white pillow. The words that were spoken were unintelligible and the voice was horse.

The man lifted his head, eyes wide and unbelieving that it seemed his brother was actually awake. He choked back a soft sob and brought the hand he had been holding to his lips to press a faint kiss. He jerked lightly when the hand did just that, jerked back, away from his touch.

Startled, he tried to keep his emotions in check and reached for the glass of water, offering it to the man on the bed, hoping it would soothe the pain from what sounded like a raw, dry throat. A half-smile touched his lips when the glass was accepted and sipped from. When it was returned to him, he set it back down and turned hopeful eyes to the man he referred to as brother.

“Are you alright? Can I get you anything? The doctor said your head would hurt for a little while, you took a pretty nasty blow and…” he trailed off with a faint flush and a shake of his head as he realized he was ranting, though what pulled him to a stop was the confused look on the younger man’s face. “Ah, I’m sorry, should I get the doctor?”

Since the younger man shook his head, he sighed and leaned back into his chair, worrying his bottom lip lightly as those eyes fluttered shut again. Of course his brother was going to be exhausted, he really should have let him sleep instead of bombard him with questions. “I’ll… I’ll let you sleep. I’ll stay here so you don’t have to worry, alright?”

There were no answers and the wounded man seemed asleep once more. One should never judge a book by its cover, however, as moments later those soft golden eyes were opened again and the younger man was licking his lips lightly.

And then his world fell to pieces.

“Do I know you?”

All That I Have
 

All That I Have

All I have actually fits in a bag. All I ever have always did fit in a bag and there’s no helping that. I’ve seen others who took some sort of joy in carting around just that, a cart full of stuff they pick up, bottles they bring back for a little change, rags they might be able to make use of, a pet when they find one wandering around, those are usually dogs though I’ve seen a few with rats.

I usually try not to spend too much time with them though they’re exactly like me, even if usually older than I am. To their terms, I’m just a kid, and they’d look at me with pity in their eyes because I’m on the streets at such a young age, I can’t stand it when they do that.

So I carry my bag around, I usually keep to myself since he’s gone and it still hurts. I need to find a warm place to sleep at tonight because it’ll get cold and without his body next to mine, it’ll be even colder. It’s not hard to carry it around, it’s just like a school bag, he’d actually managed to steal it from a big store when we were younger and it’s been with me ever since. I just put it on my back and I wander around.

I really don’t have much. I do have a hairbrush though it’s starting to fall apart a little from so much use. I may be living on the street, but I like being a little presentable. I do have a toothbrush and that one I actually bought. It’s nearing its end though, so I’ll have to try and get a little money to buy another one soon. I have one or two change of clothes, it’s not much. It’s mostly a summer and winter thing. A pair of shorts and a tank-top, then a pair of pants, a long sleeved shirt and a slight coat that doesn’t really keep out the cold, but I’m so used to it that it doesn’t really matter.

One day I’ll sneak on a train that’ll go somewhere warmer so I won’t need to be cold anymore, but not any time soon. I don’t really like stealing stuff, I try to be honest with people, but money for train tickets doesn’t come by easy, the tickets are really expensive. I’m lucky just now, I think I have about twenty dollars on me.

I do have a blanket in there too, but it’s seen so much use that it’s beginning to not be much warm anymore, it has a few holes here and there, but it still mostly does its job when I manage to find a spot where there isn’t too much wind.

I did spot an abandoned building a few hours ago, it didn’t look like anyone else was living in there, so I’ll go back there in a little bit and see if I can’t find my way around to a quiet nook that will hold me until morning. When morning comes I’ll just pack everything into my bag again and be on my way. I might sleep in the same place more than once if it proves comfortable, warm and mostly safe.

I am a little hungry, and digging in my bag, in this thing that holds everything that I have, I know I can find a cookie or two. I was passing by this little bakery earlier, and it smelled so good I couldn’t really stop myself from stopping in front of it a moment. I guess the girl inside spotted me and felt bad for me, ’cause she came out and gave me half a dozen of still slightly steamy warm cookies. It was out of pity I guess, but if it gets me food, I can’t really say no.

I did thank her to the best of my ability, I put all of them but one in my bag, and I quietly nibbled on the one I’d kept out to satisfy both my curiousity and my hunger. They were delicious, soft and moist, it had been a long, long time since I’d last eaten something this sweet and moist. I think he would have liked them.

Since he died, I took his bag took, I saved his things though I don’t know if I’ll make use of them or not. They were his things and it feels wrong to want to use something that isn’t actually mine. Still, I know he would have told me to make use of the stuff, we shared everything we had, andwhat was his, was mine. It was all that we had, and that’s how things were.

Curiosity Killed the Cat
 

Curiosity Killed the Cat

I told him not to. He wouldn’t listen, he never listens, and now all I have left of him are these memories and this crap-shit box of ashes, it’s still hot. We hadn’t made any plans, he never said what he wanted when he died, if he died. He thought he was immortal. The fact that I have his ashes at all is probably because they pitied me and because I asked extra nicely. I was scruffy, I was filthy, he was a nobody, a John Doe and they would have just buried him in the middle of nowhere with a no-name tombstone, so I asked them if I could have his ashes and they said I could.

So now he’s ashes.

I told him not to, but he wanted to try it. You know what they say about curiosity killed the cat? Yeah, I think that was one of my favorite sayings because he always wanted to try new things. He wanted to try and steal a few things from the supermarket so we could actually have something to eat, we just timed wrong I guess because some guy came around with a gun and held the place up, but the police came pretty quickly, we were caught too. If anything, a good came out of that bad ’cause we had a roof over our head for that night and it ended up being a pretty nasty snow storm night. We would have huddled in an abandoned building otherwise.

That was nearly ten years ago though, mind you. He wanted to try smoking too, it was a new thing for him, I told him not to but he did anyway. He choked on his first puff, finished the cigarette anyway, got sick as hell, swore he’d never touch the stuff again but he started smoking anyway. At least when he could steal a pack from somewhere, not that it was hard.

There was that time too when he said: hey, let’s rob a bank. I told him not to, it was a really stupid idea. But he wanted to know what it’d feel like. I told him it’d feel really stupid, and we didn’t really get anywhere because for one we didn’t have a gun, and for two, well there were cops in there, so again, we just got caught early on and we had a roof over our head for another week, three meals a day, so we couldn’t really complain.

But this time… well this time was it. He couldn’t swim, he’d never learned though I had, if only for the sake of survival but that’s another story. He wanted to jump from the cliff side into the water, the waves below. I told him not to, said it wasn’t safe. He said he was curious. Said we could jump together and since it wasn’t deep, I could help him swim back. It wasn’t that high up, but I really didn’t feel safe jumping.

He could make me do anything he wanted, I couldn’t help myself. Had me wrapped about his little finger and I was happy with it. At least until he had these crazy ideas, he still had me about his finger, but I wasn’t so happy about it.

So we got up to the clifftop and we stared down at the waves. It was a hot summer day so I guess it wasn’t so bad. We got naked, took our clothes off altogether since we didn’t have much to wear and we wanted something dry to wear once we got out. We jumped. I jumped further than he did, I made it into safe water. He didn’t jump far enough and he hit the rocks. Broke his leg, at least that I could see.

He’s always been a light weight compared to me, so it wasn’t that hard to get him back up. We got dressed again and I carried him to the closest hospital I could find, and seeing that he was bleeding so damned much is probably the only reason they took him in. They wouldn’t let me stay with him, but I spent the night in the waiting room. In the morning, a pretty nurse came out of nowhere and told me that my friend just hadn’t made it. Something about broken ribs, and deflated lungs and a shitload of other things.

She said they were going to bury him out in the new cemetery and I asked her if they could cremate him instead so I could have him with me all the time since he was my only friend. I was scruffy, she took pity, they cremated him, put him in a little box and gave the box to me, it was still hot, I burned myself, so here I am now, sitting on the cliff side with this crap-box of ashes with me. I told him not to.

I told him curiosity would kill the cat. I wonder if it isn’t my fault.

Closed Doors
 

Closed Doors

“Should we help him?” A soft, uncertain voice, on the sidewalk, two young boys stand side by side, sharing an umbrella as the rain pours from the sky. They both are wearing the same dark uniform and so is the other teenager they’re looking at. Across the street, a young teenager sits in front of a large metal gate, beyond the gate is a short road leading to a beautiful house.

Shaking his head, the boy holding the umbrella breathes a quiet sigh. “It’s not the first time, it’s not the last, they’re always fighting, I don’t know why they’re together, or why they get back together after these fights. Leave him, there’s nothing we can do.”

“But he’ll catch his death!” a sharp retort and a whine from the barely smaller boy, pressing himself closer to his brother, his friend, perhaps lover, it’s difficult to tell though they do look nearly identical, it’s too dark at this point to see clearly. “We can’t just leave him out there, it’s pouring!” As if to prove his point, he shivers and huddles a little closer still.

Rolling his eyes, the perhaps older boy, he did seem to act more maturely, so to speak, when others were concerned, grabs the wrist of his companion to pull him away. “There’s nothing we can do for him, Yang. Nothing! if we stay out here, we’re the ones who’ll catch our deaths! It’s freezing cold, his lover’ll let him back inside eventually, then nurse him back to health and all of that lovey dovey crap. He’ll miss about a week of school, we’ll have to tutor him to get him back on crap and they’ll do it again in a month.”

Whining again, Yang, or so it seems his name was, tried to pull his wrist away, wanting to help their classmate though he knew his brother was right. “If we’ll catch our deaths with this umbrella, won’t he too since he doesn’t have one? We don’t know how long he’s been sitting there, Yin. He looks soaked to the bone.” pouting, Yang curls his fingers about the umbrella slightly to keep his sibling from going anywhere yet.

“Enough, Yang. Look, the lights just got turned on, so I’m pretty sure he’ll be inside soon.” Muttered dryly, Yin pulls his brother away, merely wanting to get back inside as soon as he could. It was cold out, and though yes, he was worried about their classmate getting sick again, he couldn’t allow his brother to grow ill, they had a big project to work on.

Back in front of that gate, the young boy hugs himself a little more a the rain continues pouring down. It was cold, he felt numb and he had lost count of how long he’d been out there. They had fought at lunch time, he couldn’t even remember what it had been about.

He lifted his eyes lightly when the lights from the house light up and a bit of hope blossomed in him but he knew that it was pointless to hope now. The fight had really been bad, or so he could somewhat, vaguely remember. Bad enough that he’d run off, angry at something that now seemed to be nothing at all. Still, the gates were locked, his lover wouldn’t answer him and the boy wondered as to his inability to get along with his lover.

Were their relationship based solely on the sex? Part of him really did love the slightly older man but he was just a school boy, the man was handsome, had money, he could have anyone he wanted. So why him? Though perhaps now it was all over, he didn’t know. The lights were on but the gates weren’t opening and the older man wasn’t coming out.

Had he screwed up so badly that the doors had been closed forever between them?

Abandoned
 

Abandoned

A young man of about seventeen steps up behind the microphone podium, blinking quietly at the cameras and reporters standing by, waiting for him to speak. He clears his throat, looks back behind the large house before sighing and turning back to the task at hand.

My mother was either one of two things. A whore, or a very smart woman who knew how to make good use of how the government worked. I say was because we don’t know where she is anymore. Up until a week ago, she was in her bed, on bed rest and taking care of that last birth. She was a pretty damned strong woman, at least to carry all of us as she has. Something of a world enigma, so many in so few years, but I guess it can’t be helped. Now that she’s gone we’ll all be split apart. Who the hell could house twenty four children, all under eighteen?

Let’s get all the important facts down, first.

There the young man pauses, gazing over those eyes as they stare at him. They remind him of vultures, he’s not sure why. Shrugging to himself, he continues.

My name is Archelaos, I am the eldest and first born of twenty four children, yes, twenty four. My mother was a very cunning woman, if that is the proper word for it. She both was very smart and very… active. As far as I remember, my mother has never once worked in her life. When I was born, she was under the care of her parents, being a teenage mother at the time. My presence alone didn’t seem to be such a bad thing, but on my first birthday, it came out in the open that my mother was pregnant again. By the time I was twenty one months old, nearly two years old, three months short if you would, she had twins. Same man who fathered me, who fathered all of us we believe but he never really was around, he was there when it was convenient for him to have fun but that was it.

What my mother learned then, I suppose — it wasn’t something she discussed with us, but being the eldest, when I was old enough to know better and help her with her money, I learned the truth — was that starting from three children, the government gave her a monthly amount. Barely enough to get us by since her parents had refused to care for her any longer when the twins had come — that much she told me when I was about six — but with additional children came additional money. I know what you’re thinking. Sure additional money is nice, but is it really enough to feed twenty five mouths? Yes, yes it was. With how many of us there was, we had become something of an attraction for the city and mom received tips and gifts from a lot of people.

Somehow mother had something of a schedule set out, and almost miraculously so, by the time the latest born was a year old, she was conveniently pregnant again. So here I am, the eldest, I’m seventeen and a half, I’ll be eighteen in about six months. I have twin sisters who are currently fifteen, will be sixteen in three months. Two boys after that, they’re now fourteen. Another set of twins, twelve and three months… do you see the pattern? I’ll go on, I guess. Triplets, ten and a half, quadruplets, yes, you’ve heard me correctly, quads, now eight years old and nine months. Two sets of twins, one at seven, one at five and three months. Triplets at three and a half, twins, just one year and nine months and the last born, just a week old. I mentioned him before?

We are all more or less born on the same days in the same months, through the years. January, April, July, October. But yes, with each child, the government paid an extra where mother had enough money to hire a nanny or three. She did love us, to a point. There were so many of us that it was as if she didn’t have much time for any of us extensively. The youngest spent more time with the nannies and the older ones saw to teaching what little we knew to the rest. Even though mother had plenty of money with all of us children born and about, she didn’t bother to send us to school or to hire a tutor, so we learned to read and write mostly on our own, and we sought to teach the younger ones.

Now, as I said earlier, a week ago, mother gave birth to another youth, spending yet another shared birthday between the lot of us, away from us. Locked in her room since she didn’t like hospitals. We expected her out of that room yesterday or at least today, from past experience it usually took her a week, give or take a day or so, before she was out of her room again. As I went to check her room, I noticed Aaron, that would be our latest sibling, was crying. The door was open and there was no one in that room. That was yesterday, as most of you know.

Now, this isn’t just to ramble and tell you all things you already know. This is a plea out to the public, to anyone watching this, to anyone out there. We’re twenty four children, all under eighteen and one new born. We’re a loving family, we adapt really quickly and this place has more bedrooms than we can even fill if we were to sleep all in separate places. If the government starts taking care of us, we’ll be split apart and the chances of being able to get back together at any point in our lives will be slim. We can’t stand the thought of that and hope that maybe someone out there would be willing to take care of us. We know there’s a lot of us, but we’re well behaved. We’re not as much a handful as some would be led to believe.

Thank you.

Again the young man looks back to the house, sighs, looks back to the reporters, the cameras and journalists. He smiles somewhat, nods his head in a form of thank you and steps off and away from the microphone, turning and heading back to the door. If they had questions, he didn’t want to answer them, he had to take care of his siblings he still had three in diapers that needed to be tended to.

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and that's it for now.

Very clear writing. I could see this being a book altogether. They're very good glimpses into different lives.

x.o haven't been here in a while.

Thank you. I do write with the hope of getting published at one point.