Don't Read If You Like Frozen You Will Be Scarred For Life

The snow blows white on the mountain tonight
Drip, drip, drip
Not a footprint to be seen
Cold, sharp lines
A kingdom of isolation
Glint off the edge
And it looks like
Off the sharp blade
I'm the queen
But the blood will not
The wind is howling
Not wait, never wait
Like the swirling storm inside
But no, no sympathy
I couldn't keep it in
Heaven knows I tried

Weird Nights: Night 1.5

Bass didn't get to murder anyone. French doubled up her fist and caught Trumpet right in the gut. Trumpet was still laughing as he doubled over, grabbing his very toned stomach. "You jerk!" French shouted. She punched him again, in the face. Trumpet jerked backward with the force of her blow. But the idiot kept laughing. He kept laughing.

Someone, two people, Bass couldn't tell, were restraining Frenchie. It looked difficult.

French shoved an elbow into Trumpet's upper arm, sure to leave a bruise. Trumpet took one finger and pushed on French's shoulder. French, unbalanced from her punch, fell backward into Bass' waiting arms. Bass caught her deftly.

Frenchie managed to rip free from whoever was holding him back and tried to punch Trumpet. Trumpet sidestepped and Frenchie fell over gloriously. French didn't notice, but Bass did. He kept quiet.

The crowd dissipated. Someone brought French and Frenchie a galss of water, which Bass made his job to make sure they both drank. Frenchie got up and announced that he was going home and made Bass swear to bring French home safely. Bass swore sincerely.

Bass picked French up and steadied her French thanked him. "No problem. Do you want to walk?" Bass asked nonchalantly. French nodded. "As long as we avoid Trumpet and his cronies."

The breeze whispered through the green, leafy trees. The wind swept over the emerald fields of grass, dotted by sapphire bluebonnets and ruby roses. Bass and French walked in a comfortable manner, chit-chatting about simple things, random things. The flowers. Spoons. How they might leave town. Ex-boyfriends, ex-girlfriends. The times before they lived in Band.

"Do you remember when we were ten?" Bass asked her. Bass remembered it. He remembered every detail. "Yeah, I do. I remember one day when it rained all day. It was you, me and Nate Soakreed stuck in that treehouse." French smiled. Bass remembered silently wishing Nate hadn't been there. Bass could've made a move when they were ten, but Nate was there.

"Yeah. Didn't we play Would You Rather?" Bass asked. He wondered if she remembered. Did she? "Yeah, but it evolved into Truth Or Dare." French answered. She talked like she was trying to remember a dream. Did she think of it as a dream or a memory?

"Oh, right." Bass said, pretending to feel like an idiot. He remembered when Nate had dared him to kiss French and he remembered how, and why, he refused. He didn't want Nate to know he loved French. He didn't want to ruin his friendship with French, either.

"Hey, Bass? I think it's going to rain." French's voice interrupted his thoughts. Bass looked up. The not-so-blue sky glared back at him. "Umm, yeah, let's go." Bass suggested. The walked quicker. Before they left the park, the clouds had opened up. "Quick! My house is closer!" Bass shouted. Bass led the way as they ran toward his house. Soaked and laughing, the two stumbled inside.

Naturally, Bass noticed French's wet shirt first. "You're soaked." He stated. "Let me get you a change of clothes." Bass offered. He went to his room and grabbed some small blue shorts and a small orange shirt. He jogged back to the living room, where he had left French. "Here. I'll get them back later." Bass offered. French accepted and excused herself to change.

Less than five minutes later, French reappeared and joined Bass on the couch. She was dry and the clothes fit her well, Bass noticed. "Thanks again, Bass." French smiled. Bass looked at her and smiled softly. "No problem."

His brown eyes locked with her blue ones. They were so close, both physically right now and as friends over the years, but Bass had never wanted to be just friends.

Bass touched his nose to her and said, "Tag." That was their old game. French smiled wide and tapped his elbow with hers. "Tag." She whispered. Bass knew where he was taking this.

Bass kissed her, touching their lips for a long time. She was kissing him back, too. That was the part Bass liked. He slipped his hand over her fingers.

When they finally broke apart, Bass whispered one word. "Tag."

Weird Nights: Night One

Welcome to Band, School. Band is a small town and there are no parents, just teenagers. Each one has one sibling. There's a brother and a sister. Here are their stories, quite hilarious.

Trumpet was a player. His sister even thought so. He always flirted with all of the girls in Band, but that was Trumpet.

Frenchie wanted to slap his sister. French was falling for that stupid Trumpet boy again. Oh, how mad Trumpet made Frenchie!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The park was a nice place. A crystal sapphire stream ran through the emerald green grass. The trees were tall and shady. There are benches here and there, and a fountain. The entire population of Band was at the fountain today.

"Hey, Trom! What's up?" The first words broke the silence of the day. "Baritone! You're alive!" A tall brown-haired boy with long arms caught his friend in a headlock. "Gerroff me, Trom!" Baritone, Bari to most people, shoved at Trom's arms. Trom shook Bari around a bit, then released him.

"You two are idiots." Euphie, Bari's sister, rolled her eyes. Euphonium and Baritone Lowbrass were eerily similar. Euphie had long black hair and a very waxy complexion. Her brother's hair was shorter, but he was certainly her twin.

Trom's sister had chosen to leave him in favor of Tubie, Trom's other chum's sister. Trom's sister, Bonnie, wasn't like him much except for her long arms. Trom was tall with brown hair, and Bonnie was short with red hair. "Trom is soo stupid sometimes!" Bonnie complained to Tubie, who was a very good listener. "Sometimes? Do you mean all the time?" Tubie said with a smirk.

While Tubie Lownotes, Trom and Bonnie Notrebel, and Euphie and Bari Lowbrass were bickering among themselves, the Highbrasses, Midranges, and Lowreeds were getting into it pretty good. Trumpet and Trumpette Highbrass, both blonde with green eyes, had sided against Frenchie and French Midrange, and Bass and Sonia Lowreed were trying to break it up. Tuba Lownotes weirdly stalked their argument.

"God, Trumpet, you are so stupid!" French shouted, her cheeks red with embarrassment. Trumpet winked at her. "Is that why you are head over heels in love with me?" He retorted cockily. Frenchie balled his hands into fists, practically leaking steam out of his ears. Bass stepped into the middle of them. "Okay we don't have to kill each other." He tried to reason. Trumpette, normally quiet, put one cherry red nail on Bass' chest, and shoved him aside. "Out of the way, Bassie Boy."

Bass wasn't offended, but Trumpette's nail was sharp. Sonia Lowreed went to check on her brother. French glared at Trumpette and her charming brother. "I hate you two." She snarled viciously. "Ooo, she's got fight. Meow!" Trumpet mocked. Frenchie sighed through his teeth. "Leave her alone." He said quietly.

"What's that? Did the oh-so-silent Frenchie Midrange just say something?" Trumpet smirked. "I said," Frenchie said, louder this time, "leave my sister alone." Frenchie's blue eyes became sharp ice scimitars. "Oooh, are the Midranges getting riled up? Get a load of this!" Trumpet shouted. "The Midranges want a fight!"

The five words Trumpet do swaggerlisciously uttered brought silence to the park. Then, Tuba said, "Fight!" The park exploded with people taking sides. Bass and Sonia Lowreed headed up the neutral group. Trumpet and Trumpette Highbrass were the clear antagonistic side, and French and Frenchie Midrange were the challenging group, though. No one was surprised when the Highbrasses had the biggest supporting group. Tuba Lownotes sided with them, but Tubie Lownotes remained neutral. Bass Lowreed looked longingly and French, but stood his ground.

Trom Notrebel sided with Trumpet, but Bonnie Notrebel sided with French and Frenchie. Both Euphie and Bari Lowbrass sided with French and Frenchie. Everyone else sided with Trumpet, except for two people. Clari and Nate Soakreed both sided with the Midranges.

Things were getting tense. Frenchie tensed up, his fists small and weak looking. Trumpet gave him a glance full of swagger. Then he grinned crookedly. He got both of his hands in the air, and whispered something in Frenchie's ear. After Trumpet backed away, Frenchie glared at him and lowered his fists. As her brother backed away, French stepped up boldly, her blonde hair slipping from it's tie.

"Come closer." Trumpet beckoned with a smirk. French stepped toward him two steps, tensing her fingers. "Okay, okay..." Trumpet put both hands up. "I ain't gonna hit you, girl. Just come closer." Trumpet smiled. French moved closer. She was about six inches from him. He closed the distance with half a step. He was exactly two inches taller that her, so she had to look up at him. She stepped backed two inches. "Closer." Trumpet said. French shook her head, tongue tied. "C'mon, closer!" He said. French leaned closer.

Trumpet kissed her. Full on, lip-biting, super surprising kissed her. French leapt back, beet red. Her expression of utter shock was mirrored by her brother's and Bass'. Everyone else was being loud. "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Trumpet was grinning like an idiot. Frenchie gave Trumpet a look that would kill.

Bass quietly plotted a murder.

The Truth About Joy

Behind every smile is one thousand tears
Behind every peal of laughter is one hundred drops of blood
Behind every loving gaze is one dozen glares
Behind every affectionate touch is one cut

But I keep my head up.
I will stay strong

Behind every tear is a ghost of a smile
Behind every sob is the promise of laughter
Behind every blow is a soft hug
Behind every cut is a story

But I will stand strong. I said that my story would not end there.

And still my pages fill

Fox's Flight

"You know, there's a tree in this forest that can show you the way." The old sage breathed. "You must be lonely, my child, ever since Wolf That Rides the Dawn was killed."

Two months ago, the sage's listener thought to herself. And she doesn't even know.

"Fox With Red Tail, please tell me what you are hiding, before I tell you. Remember, we do not take secrets lightly. Wolf That Rides the Dawn would know that better than anyone." The sage's voice could not be any icier. The sympathy she had so lovingly and swiftly provided became absent in a simple stroke of time. The viciousness in the old sage's black eyes gleamed like the glassy rock that the elders told stories about. The stories were of a place called Hawaii, and it sounded beautiful.

"I have but nothing to hide." Fox With Red Tail lied smoothly.


She was right, she had nothing to hide. She just would rather not tell such things to the people of her clan. They would surely make her an outcast in every sense. In the old times, the Time of America, women like Fox With Red Tail were common, innumerable, and accepted. Accepted. Fox With Red Tail had never been described with that word. Accepted. She had only a vague idea of what it truly meant.



"Then, you would surely not mind bringing me a rabbit and cooking it for me, would you?" The sage asked with thinly veiled contempt. The sage knew what she was doing. She knew what Fox With Red Tail wasn't willing to tell her. Fox With Red Tail nodded respectfully to the sage and left her dwelling.



Once outside, Fox With Red Tail took a deep, cleansing breath of the fresh and sweet air. She started off toward her own dwelling. As she wound her way along the dirt path that snaked its way through the clan-town, Alamere, she felt the hard pressed stares on her feet, a sign of grieving respect. Fox With Red Tail hated such gestures. They made her feel weak.


They did not grieve over Wolf That Rides the Dawn's death. Only Fox With Red tail knew what really happened, why no one grieved for her late love. They had not yet been joined together in Moonlight Dances, but still they had been so close.

Fox With Red Tail's hut, that she once shared with Wolf That Rides The Dawn, was so small, so rocky, so dilapidated. Her doorway was only separated from the outside by a thin quilt that Fox With Red Tail had made herself. It flapped in the soft breeze as she ducked inside.

The inside of her hovel smelled of thick lard. The oily smoke clung to the air. Fox With Red Tail made the candles she used for light by herself out of extra fat from the food she cooked. She dutifully grabbed a rabbit off the wall, where it had been strung up by its hind feet.

Again she found herself in front of the old sage's fire, skinning the rabbit. "Dear sage," Fox With Red Tail asked, "can you tell me a story of America?" Fox With Red Tail sunk the knife into the pelt, the fresh blood making her woozy. No, not now. If the sage knew, Fox With Red Tail would shame her name for all eternity.

"Which story have you not heard?" The sage asked in a wizened old voice. Her sedition was almost nonexistent, but Fox With Red Tail could feel the tension in the air. If she wished, Fox With Red Tail could see the aura of the sage. Fox With Red Tail knew it would be crimson.

Deep.
Scarlet.
Crimson.

"Tell me the one of Johnathan Greensworth. His heroics are truly inspiring." The rabbit's blood trickled down her arm. Oh, the lifeblood of the rabbit would be Fox With Red Tail's demise.

"Johnathan Greensworth. The hero of the rebellion." The sage said lethargically. Fox With Red Tail tugged the pelt off the rabbit. "The terrorists, what were they called?" The sage asked, her rocking chair creaking. Fox With Red Tail began to cut open the rabbit. The guts would putrefy while she was roasting it if she didn't. "The Fihigh Rebellion." Fox With Red Tail interjected helpfully.

"Ah, yes, the Fihigh Rebellion. The Fihigh Rebellion had just blown apart the White House, where the leader of America, the President, he was called, lived. The President and all of his advisors died. The Fihigh Rebellion said that the world was once again corrupt, and that they would use the power of America to create a new world, one bourn of hard work and humility. This world would be led by them, of course, and they would use Americas weapons of mass destruction to achieve their goal." The sage recounted. It had been many generations since the war, and the sage had heard the story from sages past. Fox With Red Tail enjoyed these stories and hoped to one day pass this story on to someone else.

The rabbit's slowly decaying guts spilled onto a grass mat made for that purpose. Fox With Red Tail became more nauseous than ever. Not now...

"The Fihigh Rebellion dropped something called a bomb on America. This bomb spewed fire everywhere. Everything was destroyed. Yet, some people survived. One group banded together. Their leader was Johnathan Greensworth. Under Johnathan Greenswoth's guidance, the people set up this village, which spread its fingers further and became our clan. Before Johnathan Greensworth died, he had a son, which he named Lion's Roar. Johnathan Greensworth died mysteriously on a hunting trip, and Lion's Roar was forever scarred. But, we must remember and respect Johnathan Greensworth because he protected us and began our way of life." The sage finished just as Fox With Red Tail began to roast the rabbit.

The juices popped and bubbled, the sizzling juices would normally make Fox With Red Tail hungry, but now, it made her sick. Fox With Red Tail ran outside, barely containing her retches until she got to the grass.

She threw up all that was in her stomach and more. She felt a hand on her shoulder during her puking. As she finished, Fox With Red Tail looked up. The sage's face held an expression of rage.

"Are you going to tell me, or am I going to tell you?" She growled. Although her face was weak, Fox With Red Tail glared up defiantly. The answer in her eyes spoke more than she ever could.

"You've yet to have a partner." The sage hissed. "And yet you are pregnant."