ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
46 year old wife and mother who is trying to put her past behind her. [July 2006]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (13) Alien Within (Poetry) What comes with self examination. [15 words] Angel Of Death (Non-Fiction) A corrupted childhood contaminates the present-writing purges, but just slightly...*Caution, could be considered graphic* [706 words] [Horror] Darkest Fairytale (Short Stories) A story written out of the depths of confusion so it's a bit confusing to follow. *Could be considered graphic* [1,571 words] [Drama] Ending (Poetry) Just a few questions I asked once upon a time ago... [21 words] Escaping Reality (Short Stories) This is an account of a real event that has a fictional ending...the ending that I know she wanted. [981 words] God's Retribution (Short Stories) A follow on story written in early January. God is displeased and one child suffers the consequence. [425 words] [Spiritual] Remember...Do You Remember? (Genres) A long prose that asks tough personal questions which require deep internal self-examination to find the answers...if answers can be found. [271 words] [Mind] Seeking God (Short Stories) This story was written in December when a vision of the god from my childhood came crashing into my present. [767 words] [Spiritual] Taken Fetus (Non-Fiction) Ripped from within her. [697 words] Tempest: Calming The Storm (Short Stories) Inner turmoil ... can it be calmed? *Caution, could be graphic* [771 words] The Frustrating Switch (Short Stories) What happens when stress takes me beyond the breaking point? This is glimpse into my world... [667 words] [Psychology] Washed In The Blood (Short Stories) During a particularly depressing time and trying to find a way to cleanse myself of shame...well this story came to be. *Caution, could be graphic.* [631 words] When I Was Eight (Genres) A long three part prose about a dark desert night when a child was scared into submission. [501 words]
Dark Anger Monica L Sprague
Anger-dark and vehement. Like a venomous asp coiled inside her, waiting to strike aggressively and sharply. Anger. Carelessness is unacceptable. Speaking without thinking is unacceptable. Anger. Deep within it's coiled, waiting to spring forth hotly and savagely.
They are lost, the two of them. They departed long ago, they were needed and they went. Eventually they quit returning altogether, eventually they were never heard from again. Two of them were lost. Best friends they were, six of them always and ever. They laughed and they cried, they held each other and the argued, they debated and consoled and cared and shared. The whole of their
Lives they were together, together forever they thought. But the two, the two were needed and they went. What of it, she thought, they'll be back. And one was, often, she came for visits and for tea. The visits became less frequent, shorter, and more difficult. A gap separated them, a difference that was unexplainable. She came one last time and then not at all. The others thought among themselves, they've found escape, they've been rescued. They've boarded a ship to a new world.
Life continued, slip streamed as it was...sporadic and shifting. Life continued. At one point there came a seer, one with much knowledge...or at the least much experience. The seer listened to them, individually and collectively, for the four were rarely separated. The seer herself saw them only on rare occasion, but each time she did she would listen to them, just listen.
Life continued. The world shifted, a tilt of sorts. The four had a gleam, the slipping of time was less-they were more aware collectively, if not individually. They lived. The seer was aware as well, and had inexplicable insight. She knew. She began to quit listening as much and to speak more. The things she said troubled the four, collectively yes, but individually the most. The anger was not with them yet, not even with the one.
Then at a most disturbing time, a dark and cataclysmic time, the seer said to the one words which were dark and mysterious, words the seer knew about things she was not told. The seer spoke of the two; the long distanced two that had departed so long ago. The two, in a new world-happy and safe in a bright world with warmth and sunshine and flowers, birds and squirrels and butterflies galore. The seer knew of them, how? The seer spoke of them, how? A darkness came, rain poured forth, unstoppable and harsh. The seer spoke, she was going to tell her about them, she was going to say where they were. Thunder shook, the heart paused mid-beat. The seer began to speak, but of only one-one alone, not of both.
It was more than was bearable. A flood broke a damn, an earthquake crumbled the wall. She was vulnerable, raw and pained. One. Only one. She didn't want to know. She told the seer to shut up; the seer paused, and then continued. The anger flooded in like a dark black hole, swallowing everything within. The anger. Coiled and vicious. Anger. She told the seer to stop, stop right there and she fled. The anger grew, it consumed, it swallowed her. The anger. A black asp, venomous and powerful. Coiled and ready to strike. Anger.
She didn't care any more, she hurt, the pain was immense. All that she dreamed of for her friends had been shattered and laid scattered at her feet. She looked down at the broken pieces of her dream, she lifted her foot and she slammed it down, grinding the dream into oblivion. She looked up, the sky was dark, lightening flashed all around. A volcano rumbled somewhere behind her,
She turned just to see it erupt, spewing fire and flame and ash, covering the entire world around her. Life was consumed by the molten lava. Anger on the verge of hatred. Pain, heartache, unbearable and immeasurable, hurt, oblivion. She was lost, lost in the anger, lost in the pain. She was vulnerable and exposed and raw and on the verge of hate. The lava came upon her, the lava-heat upon heat, at her feet, burning her slowly as the anger burned fiercely inside her. She didn't care. Cared about nothing any longer. The dream gone, none had escaped, none were left undamaged, all were hurt. The dream was lost, forever lost.
The world was changed. The lava consumed her as the anger consumed her. The hurt and the pain overwhelmed her. She crumpled to the ground, she let the lava flow over her, she welcomed the heat, and she wrapped her arms around the flame that consumed her as she lay. Her world was gone, the dream destroyed. The asp lay silent, waiting patiently for opportunity. It would strike, the black anger would be swift and expedient and none would withstand its wake.
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