Something that didn't work yesterday

the computer went mad yesterday, so here it is today:

The Battle Surrendered

Part Five

Storyteller SilverLoom

     The shadow creatures were back.

     Again they pulled at me with their freezing hands. I cried out, “No!” and tried to stand, but they kept me firmly fixed to the ground. I looked around for Jesus, but the shadow creatures surrounded me and blocked my view of Him.

      Suddenly, there was that same dizzying light. The same feeling of stupor. The same urge to give in.

     No! I willed myself to fight back. I felt that I couldn’t fail again. I couldn’t let myself give in.

     But the shadow creatures did not let me go, and I couldn’t tear myself from them. I wondered if I really wanted to. Was that prison so bad? Were the chains so heavy? And Jesus would rescue me as soon as I asked Him to. He was nice like that.

     The intoxicating aura of false peace washed over me, irresistible. The creature leaned over and whispered, “Followmeee….”

     I don’t even remember the first step this time. All I know is that I found myself starting awake, once again, in the prison tower with the vague recollection that I had chained myself there.

     I had never thought I would fall into the same trap. If it had been horrible the first time I failed, it was double the horror now.

     And then I thought of Him. I’d let Him down. And that was the greatest heartbreak of all. How could I have ever thought He would rescue me again? And even if He did, how could I face Him?

     My shame overwhelmed me. My guilt was heavier than my shackles. I mourned and moaned in the tower for days. No one came, which only made my sorrow deepen, until it was so deep I felt like I could drown in it.

     I was hungry, thirsty, tired, and cold. It was the closest to death I had ever been.

     Finally, just when I thought I would burst from the pain, I did the only thing left to be done. I cried out for help.

     “God,” I whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Please… help me. I’ll die without You.”

     I cried myself to sleep.


I think I might do two today, else it's a very sssssssllllllllllooooooooooowwwwwww businesss 

Part Four

and a belated four

The Battle Surrendered

Part Four

Storyteller SilverLoom

     He shouldered the coiled rope and strode into the forest.

     I scurried after Him, calling, “Wait! Where are we going?”

     “Follow me.”

     I halted. “Did You just quote Yourself?”

     Thankfully, He understood my sense of humor and laughed. “Yes, I tend to do that. It makes it easier for people to see things the way I do.”

     “And that’s supposed to mean…?” I asked as I again hurried to keep up with Him.

     “That I never change. I am the same at this moment as I was two-thousand years ago, and as I was at the creation of the universe. Today, tomorrow, and yesterday, I remain the same. And so I can quote Myself in everything.”

     We continued walking. And walking. And… walking. The forest floor was uncommonly free of debris, and a soft carpet of moss covered the earth, much to the glee of my bare feet. But after several hours of walking, and walking, and… walking, I finally said, “Ok, don’t get me wrong. I want to follow You wherever You go. But can You give me some clue as to where we’re headed? Please?”

     “We are going home,” Jesus replied.

     I gasped audibly, feeling both excitement and fear. He took one look at my face and cracked up. “No, dear heart! I mean your house. It’s not your time yet.”

     “Oh,” I said. Then I saw the funny side of it and laughed along with Him. After a few minutes, it finally occurred to me what He had said. “Hey! Why are You taking me back home? You said You were going to train me!” I cried.

     “No worries,” He replied. “We won’t arrive until you’re trained.”

     It took me a while to try to sort that out. “So… You’ll be training me on the way?”

     “Yes. We won’t get there until you’re trained.”

     “Oh, ok. Gotcha.” Little did I suspect that I had no clue what He meant.

     We walked some more. And walked. And… well, you know. But it wasn’t as boring as it sounded. The forest was beautiful and peaceful, and I was walking beside the Prince of Peace.

     Presently, Jesus remarked, “We’ll stop here and make camp. We’ll continue your training in the morning.”

     I can’t deny that I gave Him a funny glance. Continue? I wasn’t aware that we had started. I hadn’t even touched a sword or a bow yet!

     He stripped the lower branches off some nearby trees and soon had a small fire going. We ate bread and drank water that came from the pack He carried on His back.

     We slept on the soft moss under some light blankets from Jesus’s pack. The weather was perfect. I didn’t feel cold until early in the morning.

     Shivering, I pulled the blanket more tightly around me. My eyelids fluttered for just a second, but what I saw in that moment made me sit up and scream.

     The shadow creatures were back.

Well how 'bout that?

And three

I'm just whipping this on and running off to a ballet practice exam -prayers please.
Anyway... here 'tis

     The Battle Surrendered 

Part Three

Storyteller SilverLoom 

     I lifted my shackled wrists up and said wistfully, “I’m chained. I don’t know where the key is.”

     He reached into a pocket on his tunic and took out a tiny gold object. “You mean this key?” Grinning at my surprise, he quickly bent to unlock the chains on my wrists and ankles.

     “How did you know I was here?” I inquired as he unbound me.

     “Well,” he replied, “I’m here to train you. And I can’t train you if you’re locked up like this.”

     I decided not to push the question he had obviously avoided and let the conversation carry on. “Train me? Why?” I had read many stories of kids who were sucked into fantasy worlds and trained to be warriors for special missions. The thought that I could be like them filled me with jittery excitement.

     “‘Why?’” he repeated, letting my final shackle fall to the floor. “You think you don’t need training?”

     “No, no! It’s just that… why me? Why was I chosen to be trained? Why were those creatures after me?”

     He looked me in the eye. “They are after all of you, dear heart.” With that, he turned back toward the rope, leaving me to follow and wonder what he had against direct answers.

     It was fairly easy to climb out of the dungeon with my feet braced on the wall and my rescuer beneath me to give me a lift if I needed it. Soon, he and I were treading the green grass outside my prison. I shaded my eyes from the sun as I turned to look at the dreadful place. It was a single, tall tower without any doors or windows that I could see from this side. No banner flew from the top of this lonely turret, so I had no emblem to associate with the enemy who had captured me. The tower was set in the middle of a forest.

     “Um, so, Sir…?” I let my sentence trail off and turned to look at my rescuer, who was busy coiling the rope. “Sorry. I didn’t get your name?”

     “Jesus,” was the calm reply.

     I balked. His grin returned as He added, “You wanted directness.”

     Now I had to decide if it was a complete miracle or complete lunacy. The fact that He could read my mind pretty much ruled out insanity, but could it really be Him?

     Before I could say anything, He stretched out His hand toward me. One look at the ugly scar marring His skin was enough to convince me. My mind spun.

     He pulled me out of my circling thoughts by pointing out, “You were about to ask Me something?”

     “Uh, yeah. When do we start… um, that is, when are You…?”

     “When does your training begin?” He prompted.

     I nodded, still dumbfounded.

     “When you are ready,” He said.

     I managed to squeak out, “Am I ready now?” 

     He smiled. “You tell Me. Are you?”

     “I think so.”

     He waited.

     “Yes. I’m ready.”

     “Good. Then let’s get to work.” He shouldered the coiled rope and strode into the forest

Isn't it sad? Five more stories to go :(
-Miss Tiffany  

Part two

For all those who could wait for the next one [I'm included]

The Battle Surrendered    Part Two     Storyteller SilverLoom   

    The next thing I knew, I was blinking as if I had just woken up and saw that I was no longer in my bedroom.

     The eerie light was gone. The shadow creatures were gone. I was completely alone in a dark, damp prison. The only light in the place filtered in from a crack far above me. Someone had chained my ankles and wrists to the stone floor of the dungeon. I had a vague memory of the creatures telling me to chain myself up.

     Now I realized just how dumb I had been to follow the shadow creatures. “Hello?” I called. No answer except for the constant dripping of water from a corner of my prison. “Hey! Let me go! Get me out of here!” I yelled. Was it my imagination, or did I hear malicious laughter coming from the darker parts of the dungeon?

     My heart pounded with fear. I had never thought something like this could happen to me. This sort of thing only happened to people in books. It wasn’t supposed to happen in real life.

     A scream welled up inside of me and I let it go, along with a torrent of tears. The worst part of it was that I knew I had put myself in this place; that I hadn’t fought hard enough.

     I curled up on the cold stone floor and sobbed. Then I called for the only One who could hear me. “God, please… please help me! I don’t know where I am! I shouldn’t have given in. Please! Help me!”

     As my tears fell afresh, the light from the crack in the wall suddenly disappeared. I stopped mid-sob and froze. I even held my breath.

     A voice reverberated off the solid walls of my prison. “Hello, down there!”

     I looked up at the crack. The face of a man stared back at me, his head almost completely covering the crack. He had the widest smile I had ever seen. “Not the most comfortable place to live, I’d say,” he remarked in a friendly manner.

     I wiped my teary eyes with my pajama sleeve. “Can… can you get me out?” I stammered. I felt reluctant to trust this guy, afraid this was another trap.

     His smile grew even larger. “That’s what I came here to do; to help you out." His face drew back from the hole as he stood.

     I waited while he hacked away at the stone, making the crack large enough for him to crawl through. It was a few minutes before I realized that he was using his sword to send the bricks of my prison tumbling down. That was one strong blade.

     Finally, he secured a rope outside the dungeon and used it to climb down through the gap he had made. He looked like a prince out of a fairy tale; dressed from head to toe in white stitched with gold thread, a voluminous cape thrown over his shoulders.

     When he stood in front of me, I lifted my shackled wrists up and said wistfully, “I’m chained. I don’t know where the key is.”...

And that's all for now more tomorrow ;P

-Miss Tiffany

story brewin' -'gain

I feel like writing something, my lovely guinea pigs.
Beware:

Should sailing through wind stop you?
The sentence scripted on the wall, held her spell bound, sailing through wind?
Would not slicing be a better word? She thought of the gail-force eastilys that rode in
across the waves, sail through that?  
What could it mean?
She touched the writing, and gazed down the "hall" this place was strange, [hold onto your imaginations people]
This whole wall was covered with history, in fact the entire building was drenched with it.
"I wonder what this place was built for?"She whispered to herself "That it be crumbling on the outside, but not a day old in, how curious!
She walked along this wall toward the front of the room, letting her fingers trail on the cold stone. She was unaware that the letters and words she touched, were turned into the shining blues of a peacocks tail, behind her.Or that the same colour was filling her footsteps.Onward she walked, up on to a dias the tattered blue carpet crunching under each.She reached the top step and turned around and looked down at the long hall, she saw the grey walls and wooden floor all the way down to the open door in the corner, it was a long way, but she could still make out the willows bending in the punishing wind.

All of a sudden she felt cold. A gust of wind must have come in, she thought, as she rubbed her bare arms. She turned around to see if there was any good carpet to cover her arms.She gasped, the wall that had once been stone had turned into a giant sapphire curtain, spanning floor and ceiling.The wind caught it, and as it rippled the letters of the word Istenba appeared in burning blue.The world she saw  jumped but her vision never refoucsed, she stepped back, she felt like she was wading through oil.
She lost her blance and kneeled over, slowly, because of the... air. The ground opened up beneath her,
a black abyss, she screamed and tried to stop herself, but she kept falling, the air was forced out of her lungs, everything turned black.

She woke up to the crashings of waves against a beach, she sat up slowly, her head spinning, it was dawn.



Aaaaaaannndddddd I have to eat tea

-Miss Tiffany       

Believable

To make a good story you have to make it believable.
You can not have the goody pushing through a crowd of screaming people, the people screaming because he is carrying a gun, and have the bady not notice.You CAN NOT!!!
If you want it realistic, if you want the characters come to life, you hhhaaaavvvee [have] to make it believable, I cannot stress that enough.  


Everything must be real or else it is boring.

This doesn't mean you can't have make-believe characters, fairys and such.Or miracles

Characters need to stay true to themselves: to do only what they can humanly  do

I can't really explain this any more except make it believable!!!

Miss Tiffany