It slithered under the closet door like a snake, a noiseless and malevolent darkness. Jamie knew what it was. He knew the shadow of the dead raven had come for him at last. Black and silent, it existed in that realm where imagination became reality in the mind of a ten-year-old boy. Countless times the closet door had been thrown open by a frustrated parent to reveal no “bogeyman”; but a ghost is a ghost, though it be banished by an adult’s lack of perception. Jamie was a very bright kid; the teachers called him gifted. They were all ignorant of exactly how gifted he was. The shadow wanted his young talent. For what, only God knew; or the Devil, perhaps. Jamie didn’t believe in either. But mythology has a way of creeping up on you when you least expect it. Mom had tucked him in hours ago and planted a kiss on his forehead. He’d given up trying to convince her of the reality of the poltergeist, so he’d accepted her attentions stoically, and pretended to slip into slumber. It was Dad who’d cleaned the chimney that summer, and found the skeleton in the chimney, right behind the wall of his closet. It was a raven’s skeleton. The old and mummified corpse still had patches of dried skin, desiccated flesh, and limp black feathers stuck to it. Gross! Dad had laughed at Jamie’s fear, and placed the skeleton in a small wooden box; a little bird coffin. “No big deal, Jamie,” His father had scoffed. “Ghosts are all in your mind. Here. I’m putting this box on the mantle over the fire. He’ll rest here for eternity. Serves the dumb bird right for flying into the chimney in the first place.” Objects started moving on their own, but only when Jamie was alone. Like the time, doing his homework in the kitchen, when the silverware drawer had flung itself open. The silverware crawled out and did a little dance on the counter, invisible strings making a complex ballet out of the spoons, forks, and knives. Jamie had peed his pants in fright. When his parents returned, they accused him of making it all up to cover his “accident”. He didn’t care what they thought. He knew what he’d seen. The shadow was on the wall, climbing toward the ceiling, above Jamie’s bed. It would fall on him and drink his blood, or worse, smother him. He was sure of it. Jamie had asthma; he knew how suffocating felt. The thought was a self-fulfilling prophecy as his terror incited an attack. His breath tightened into a rough wheeze as the passages in his lungs constricted. He choked. His medicine was in the living room, a hundred miles away. Calm. He needed to be calm. The raven was on the ceiling, slithering across the fan, closer and closer. The dim light of the night-light only made things worse. Full darkness would have been better. Ignorance is bliss. Jamie thought of his last chess match, as white inexorably closed in on him. One move away from checkmate his talent had flashed, and with the grand sweep of a castle he’d turned every bad move he’d made into a prison for his opponent’s king. Bad things weren’t always as bad as they seemed.
As time goes by you will see That we're going to be free You and me, we'll touch the sky Can you see in your mind's eye That we are one We're all the same And life is just a simple game
There, by your side, I will be When this crazy world is free Free from doubt When it finds out Exactly what we're meant to be That we are one We're all the same And life is just a simple game
Thoughts of another day Flashing through my head Thinking how life could be All of the things that our great men have said Be what we want to be What we deserve to be What we are meant to be
As time goes by, you will see That we're going to be free You and me, we'll touch the sky Can you see in your mind's eye That we are one We're all the same And life is just a simple game
We're gonna be free Oohhh, gonna be free Gonna be free (Free, gonna be free, gonna be free, Oohhh)
When I was young, it seemed that life was so wonderful, A miracle, oh it was beautiful, magical. And all the birds in the trees, well they’d be singing so happily, Joyfully, playfully watching me. But then they send me away to teach me how to be sensible, Logical, responsible, practical. And they showed me a world where I could be so dependable, Clinical, intellectual, cynical.
There are times when all the world’s asleep, The questions run too deep For such a simple man. Won’t you please, please tell me what we’ve learned I know it sounds absurd But please tell me who I am.
Now watch what you say or they’ll be calling you a radical, Liberal, fanatical, criminal. Won’t you sign up your name, we’d like to feel you’re Acceptable, respecable, presentable, a vegtable!
At night, when all the world’s asleep, The questions run so deep For such a simple man. Won’t you please, please tell me what we’ve learned I know it sounds absurd But please tell me who I am ..
How do you want the people you love To remember you when you're gone? Our words and deeds build monuments In the hearts of the people we touch. A statue of what we are hides deep In the hearts of those we love, And its your choice, how you will be remembered Is the image thus seen a wise man or a fool?
We are builders, whether we know it or not We construct reputations, that emd up preceding us. People we don't even know see something unreal. Image is everything, when we're new to the game. Striking a pose, we are thus frozen, And if we try to change we are punished. I don't live in a box, on display in a museum, I don't conform to shallow perceptions.
I am much more than even I know, Every day, watch this monument grow. Take a quick look, but be very afraid, Not even I know what is to be made.
This glass is always half full On a red cart pulled by a mule. Desert sands and rainforest green Shadows of places and things I have seen. People loved, people hated, people now gone. Rainbows and Stormclouds, Sunsets and dawn. Real times, good times, bad times too, Keep moving forward, nothing else to do.
Memory is fantasy, it no longer exists, Still, the feelings evoked are hard to resist. My mind spans eternity, but its hard to pin down, Slipping and sliding, it sneaks out of town. Who are you to say that we are strangers, I remember the Rhine, the Huns, other dangers. That was nigh on a thousand years previous And still today I'm just as mischievous.
Memory is mystery, straining the bonds of faith, As we pass through today its all just a wraith. Memory is the treasure I take to my grave, When all else is gone, this I will save.
I think treating the whole package is the correct way to go anywhere, on CS or in real life.
My concern is this.
As a mother, I'm very sure she's protective of her children. She might not want to involve them in your initial meeting, just in case you're(and I'm not saying you are) a psycho. So be prepared for this suggestion to fall flat, and for that reason.
Galactic_bodhi Forum Posts (9,196)
Raven's Fire
It slithered under the closet door like a snake, a noiseless and malevolent darkness. Jamie knew what it was. He knew the shadow of the dead raven had come for him at last.Black and silent, it existed in that realm where imagination became reality in the mind of a ten-year-old boy. Countless times the closet door had been thrown open by a frustrated parent to reveal no “bogeyman”; but a ghost is a ghost, though it be banished by an adult’s lack of perception.
Jamie was a very bright kid; the teachers called him gifted. They were all ignorant of exactly how gifted he was.
The shadow wanted his young talent. For what, only God knew; or the Devil, perhaps. Jamie didn’t believe in either. But mythology has a way of creeping up on you when you least expect it.
Mom had tucked him in hours ago and planted a kiss on his forehead. He’d given up trying to convince her of the reality of the poltergeist, so he’d accepted her attentions stoically, and pretended to slip into slumber.
It was Dad who’d cleaned the chimney that summer, and found the skeleton in the chimney, right behind the wall of his closet. It was a raven’s skeleton. The old and mummified corpse still had patches of dried skin, desiccated flesh, and limp black feathers stuck to it. Gross!
Dad had laughed at Jamie’s fear, and placed the skeleton in a small wooden box; a little bird coffin.
“No big deal, Jamie,” His father had scoffed. “Ghosts are all in your mind. Here. I’m putting this box on the mantle over the fire. He’ll rest here for eternity. Serves the dumb bird right for flying into the chimney in the first place.”
Objects started moving on their own, but only when Jamie was alone.
Like the time, doing his homework in the kitchen, when the silverware drawer had flung itself open. The silverware crawled out and did a little dance on the counter, invisible strings making a complex ballet out of the spoons, forks, and knives. Jamie had peed his pants in fright. When his parents returned, they accused him of making it all up to cover his “accident”.
He didn’t care what they thought. He knew what he’d seen.
The shadow was on the wall, climbing toward the ceiling, above Jamie’s bed. It would fall on him and drink his blood, or worse, smother him. He was sure of it.
Jamie had asthma; he knew how suffocating felt. The thought was a self-fulfilling prophecy as his terror incited an attack. His breath tightened into a rough wheeze as the passages in his lungs constricted.
He choked. His medicine was in the living room, a hundred miles away. Calm. He needed to be calm.
The raven was on the ceiling, slithering across the fan, closer and closer. The dim light of the night-light only made things worse. Full darkness would have been better. Ignorance is bliss.
Jamie thought of his last chess match, as white inexorably closed in on him. One move away from checkmate his talent had flashed, and with the grand sweep of a castle he’d turned every bad move he’d made into a prison for his opponent’s king. Bad things weren’t always as bad as they seemed.