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Chloe- Gothic macabre Fairytale |
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"Chloe"
"The Gothic Macabre Fairytale"
written by: Miaka-Chan
A Carnival's Night Clouds and A Park's Forsaken Memories [Prologue]
Carnival lights flashed, people screamed in the pit of joy. The strong stench of corn dogs and popcorn drifted in the air wherever you walked. As one person would normally walk along the trashed filled paths of excitement, I walked differently. I always had a limp of fear that would crawl inside of my body. As a little child would enjoy their time at a place like the Carnival, I was disgusted by it. I swore under my breath, scared half to death, by every small child dressed in black. Usually, because it always reminded me of memories that I begged God to rid me of. Only when I had turned ten, had I given all my hopes of God existing to the cemetery. Where my Mother, Father, Little Brother, and Twin sisters lie.
It was so chilly, and the whole Carnival was frosted by ice and water. Yet, for some odd reason, the Night Clouds never bothered anyone. I, for one, was infected by incomprehensible thoughts when Night Clouds arrived. "Night Clouds" I thought to myself, passing by a hot dog stand, knew why I called them "Night Clouds". Those were the things that crept along the dark sky. The things I use to watch, when I was no younger then the age of seven, roll along the sunset just after a rainstorm. When Daddy, use to scold me for running out of my bed just because "Some Clouds" came into the sky, he'd always say "Maddy, go back to sleep! You can't come crying to our bedroom every time you think a monster is going to come out of the forsaken sky! Go back into your little tale of Chicken Little and learn that those things don't happen. Grow up Maddy, your a big girl now. Start acting like one." To me, those words needed to be shoved back in his mouth, chewed and swallowed. Because those clouds, meant something much more then just fresh rain and a lie to go back in the sanctuary of my parent's bedroom. It meant she was near, it meant my nightmare was close to being something much more then a plague that arrived when I closed my eyes. It was something I had to focus five hours to shake off, it was just so scary.
As my black, hard boots clanked on the gravel path, my long black hair swifted back and forth, and slightly brushed against my left shoulder. I held my arms, slowly tracing everyone's face when they quickly tried to avoid looking at me. I wore, different things. I wore skirts that were long and black, with red lacy strips crossing over it. I wore huge boots to hide my scrawny legs. I loved, and always had on my sweater with straps and silver chains that linked around my neck. It was warm, and so was my red spaghetti strapped shirt, that was easily pressed and fit nicely with a homemade corset. My black choker, of course, signified Black Hope. As I called it, because the cross on it was black and curved with the darkest of rhinestones pinned lightly on top. It was dark, almost dark enough to be Death, yet not so half over the edge, so it still has hope. Black Hope.
I could care less how the old hags, worn down Mother's of six children, looked at me. I still kept walking. What brought me here, to this one-year-round hell is still playing inside my mind. My arms, were still tightly crossed, and my breath dispersing into the fresh chilly air. I walked, just a bit faster and waited as I paced. Only because, that was all I could do. No one had ever bother to look for "Poor Maddy" as my aunts liked to mock, I was always alone. Always in the furthest corner of my room, crying because the monsters ever so patiently waited inside my closet door. I was always walking myself to school, and always the one to run.
After my parents death, my Aunts took me to refuge and kept me since. I hated them, and still do. Something about their conceited wanna-be rich ladies laugh pierced the heart of my temper. It was sick. As I slowly reached the exit of the forsaken hell of empty laughter, I knew that this wasn't where my ending came to close.
Just across the yellow, highly barred gates, was an abandon park. Where, how I dreaded, knew that there my ending lied. I walked very cautiously to the open park. Rusty old swings, small slides and little rides for smaller children. Hardly any fresh grass, just hard, compressed dirt. It was all damp from my view. The moonlight carefully lit the entire enclosed park. As I held my arms just a bit tighter, I could have sworn the swings moved from the corner of my eye. I was startled when I heard a rusty squeak, but regained my composure and walked around the park once more.
My steps grew silent, and so did the wind. I started to feel uneasy, and my mind kept shouting: "Leave and never come back Maddy! Run!" And as I'd love to run and go back into my dreaded Aunt's house and drink bitter tea with them, and talk about how lovely it is to wake up on a Saturday morning with a man in his late 30's right beside you, I'd rather REALLY stay here. I knew that as soon as the Night Clouds rolled in, I'd have some business around here. I sad down on an old dirty slide, and waited. I waited for a long time, the sad thing was I hardly knew what exactly I was waiting for.
As an hour passed (Or how time felt for me) I brushed my long skirt off and got ready to walk ten miles to my house. In some way, I was sad to leave this park. Espeacially because I felt emotionally attached to it in so little time, oddly. As I slowly walked out of the forbidden park, a little voice trailed inside my ears.
I turned around quickly and my eyes widened. "Hello?" I asked the wind. No answer. I ignored what I thought to be paranoia and kept walking. Some part of my body wanted to stay, but the rest of me screamed to run. I listened to neither, and walked patiently. Another whisper crawled in my ear, it tickled my spine and sounded like an abandon scream. I shut it off, and kept walking. That is, until I turned around slightly, to the rhythm of the rusty old swings going back and forth.
A cold chill ran through my body, colder then 32 degrees. My throat parched, and cracked when I whispered a slight scream. My hands trembled and my heart was beating rapidly. I turned around expecting to see nothing but the wind playing tricks, and my paranoia getting to me. Unfortunately, it did not turn out that way. As I fully rotated my body to face the rusty swing set, I was paralyzed in fear that couldn't be felt in someone's lifetime. It was unbearable, and harsh. It was a type of angry fear, anger that came from your soul, and fear that came from your body. "So Chloe, you came after all." My voice shook when I spoke to her. "I only came for one reason, and that reason only." Whispered the small possessed child swinging silently. "And what would that be, Chloe?" I sat down, and prepared for answer that I forced myself to hear.
"I came to play." She smiled.
[End of Prologue]
Hope you Enjoyed. There is much more
[Credits]
Peter Pan, because it inspired me.
Miaka-Chan is me, and you can't steal my story or I'll sue you, WHY? Because I CAN. It's a law! D:<
I own. biggrin
(c)Miaka-Bianca-"Chloe"
 Pain-Killer 4 Dead Angels · Sat Feb 23, 2008 @ 09:31pm · 0 Comments |
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