Lost in Translation

11 Fellow Ramblers

Hey there!

It's Envy here. Remember me? I was that Dutch girl who had no idea what to do with her blog during her first two years in the blogosphere. My posts weren't that great, yet I hope you still remember me. 'Cause once upon a time, I considered you my blog buddy.

Starting a blog isn't easy. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of blogs that were all so much better than mine, I felt so alone...
Then you were there. It started with a follow and a nice comment. Soon we commented on almost all of each other's posts. We collabed, found new blogs together, helped each other out. But then, one day, you were gone.

I can't remember when I realized you were gone. Your posts came less frequent, you tweeted less and you weren't the first to comment on my posts anymore. Eventually there was a goodbye post, if I'm not mistaken... It broke my heart a little. Seeing that you deactivated your blog altogether made it even worse. The blogosphere isn't the same without you...

Now I guess you're quite surprised to see me write this. I can't blame you. Who in their right mind values an online friendship so much that they're still thinking about it months, years later even? Apparently, I do. Because people online can affect our lives just as much as the people we see at work, in college or in school every day. They can make you feel appreciated. They can make you feel part of something bigger than you. That's exactly what you did for me. I've learned a lot from our friendship and I'm very grateful for that.

Quite frankly, I don't think I'll forget about you anytime soon. Sometimes I find myself looking at flowers, thinking about how much you like those. Or I hear music that I know you'd like. It still reminds me of you. It's weird to think that I'm planning to travel the world, so one day I'll visit the place where you live, yet I won't ever meet you. Maybe if you'd stayed around... Now I'll visit your country, wondering if I just walked straight past you - if you're still living in the same place. Fact is that I don't know where you are now, or what you do. But when I see or hear or smell something I know you would have liked, I hope you're in a good place. I hope you're still chasing your dreams. I hope you're never giving up on them. Most of all, I hope you're happy. You might not be part of the blogosphere anymore, but you're still part of this awesome world. So I hope you make the most out of your life, wherever you might be today.

Stay Awesome!

12 Fellow Ramblers

10 Fellow Ramblers

I love the internet. I love how it gets me in touch with awesome people from all over the world, I love how it lets me speak my mind, but most of all, I love the opportunities it gives me.

Recently I found out about a flash fiction writing contest. I'd never written flash fiction before, but the theme was right up my alley: write whatever you want as long as it's at least slightly creepy.

On New Year's Eve, with still a month to go until the deadline, I started writing. It was a lot harder than I expected: because it was a flash fiction competition, I couldn't use more than 750 words to tell my story. It was a challenge, a huge challenge. To keep myself going, I asked my best friend if he could read it for me before I submitted it. I thought that would keep me motivated, but it had the opposite effect. By asking him to read it first, I put a lot of pressure on myself since his opinion is one of the few opinions I really care about.

For a while I let my piece of flash fiction rest. I'd hit a dead end and the pressure made me nervous. Then one day in early February I found the right words to continue my story - and found out I'd missed my deadline... Yes, I know. Not very smart. In the end, I do want to share my stories with the world, so I present you: my non-submitted entry

Candelabra

‘Tamara?’

The shadow of a tall figure fell on Tamara’s book. She looked up into the bright sunlight. It almost blinded her. The person in front of her was barely more than a shadow in the bright light. She had to squint to see their face.

‘Wanna hang out after school?’

She recognized the hum of Nicolas’ deep voice. It surprised her; Nicolas rarely spoke to anyone.

‘Sure,’ she said with a smile. ‘I’d love to.’

After school Tamara walked home with Nicolas. She almost had to run to keep up with his long strides and he barely seemed to notice her. She started to wonder why he’d asked her to hang out if he wasn’t going to talk to her.

After a ten-minute walk that seemed to be an eternity spent in awkward silence, Nicolas nodded toward a house on the corner of the street. ‘Over there,’ was all he said. Then, after a short silence, he added: ‘My parents aren’t home.’

Tamara fiddled with her necklace as she followed Nicolas up to the front door. The situation made her nervous. Her heart was beating at full speed. It felt like it was about to explode. She stayed outside as Nicolas entered the house. It was one of the tiny old houses on the outskirts of Pendant Pond. She’d always liked these houses. Her grandparents lived in one and their house was always warm and welcoming. This house was different. All the curtains were drawn. It didn’t look like people were living in it. The house gave off all the wrong kinds of vibes.

‘Come in,’ Nicolas said. He smiled a smile that made Tamara’s knees go weak. She pushed her doubts aside and followed Nicolas into the house, up the stairs, to his room.

Nicolas’ room was up in the attic. It took a while for Tamara’s eyes to adjust, but when they finally did, she wished they hadn’t.

Tamara found herself in a room that hadn’t seen sunlight in ages, a room with dark red walls devoid of any decoration, a room full of skulls. Their empty eye sockets followed her wherever she went in the cramped space. Nicolas used them as candle holders: there was a dripping candle on each of them. A shiver went down Tamara’s as spine as Nicolas lit the candles one by one.

‘Do you like them?’ he asked with his back turned to her. ‘I make them myself.’

Tamara didn’t know what to say. The flickering candlelight made her even more uncomfortable. The skulls seemed to have come to life in the dim-lit room.

‘I’m hoping to make a candelabra soon,’ Nicholas continued. ‘But it’ll take a while. First I need to find the perfect skulls. Get them dry, make sure there’s no skin or tissue left on the bone…’ He turned back to Tamara, who hadn’t been able to keep a straight face anymore. ‘Sorry, did that gross you out?’

‘A little,’ Tamara admitted.

He came closer, reached out for her hand. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.’

‘It’s okay,’ she wanted to say, but he’d softly kissed her before she could. She noticed his right hand moving through her hair, his fingers softly tracing the line of her head. His left hand trailed over her cheekbones, then down to her chin. ‘You have a beautiful bone structure.’

Tamara’s stomach did a back-flip. But to her surprise, it wasn’t a back-flip of joy. She’d always liked Nicholas. She’d thought this was what she wanted, but now that she had it, it felt all wrong. Very wrong. She pushed Nicholas away a little. ‘So…’ she said, grasping at straws for something to say. ‘These candleholders… How do you make them exactly?’

Nicolas eyes twinkled, as if he’d been waiting for her to ask. ‘Like this.’ He produced a butcher’s knife out of thin air.

Tamara’s eyes went wide. ‘Nicolas, n-‘

Nicolas didn’t listen. He put the knife against her throat and slit it with one swift movement. Blood splattered against the wall, where it became one with the paint, while Nicolas separated Tamara’s head from her neck. It was all over before her final scream left her lips.

A full story in under 750 words. It's far from easy, but I'll never regret accepting the challenge.

Stay Awesome!

6 Fellow Ramblers

8 Fellow Ramblers

About me

Follow Me

Buy me a coffee!

Followers

Categories

Blog Archive