Creative Writing: Here Lies Markus 'Mark' Abrahms

You could feel the riot before you could see it. There was something else in the crisp early morning New York air, a certain electricity. A certain static that could only have been brought about by the winds of change. Even at three am the city is usually alive, but in these early Saturday morning hours Christopher Street was more alive than usual. However, it wasn't the normal flamboyant energy it had come to been known for. It was an angry energy, one that's only capable of being created by an oppressed group fed up with the constant mistreatment they've too long endured.

Picking up the telephone, Margaret started to call Andrew to tell him about Officer Anderson. Glancing out the bay window, she saw a man walking down the sidewalk with two large dogs. Suddenly, one of them pulled on the chain, running toward the gate, barking and trying to get into the yard. Margaret rushed out to the front porch to see what was going on with the dogs. Noticing the neighbor’s cat sitting in the flower bed, she yelled for it to go home, but it didn’t move. The man yelled for the dog to come back.

"Thanks for seeing me, Doctor. Sorry, Heather" Jarrod responded as he brought his gaze back to hers after having surveyed the room, and the view of the city the seventeenth floor location provided. Despite his attraction to the dark side of humanity, and the fact that since puberty the man his foibles, and attraction to the darker side of human nature, this was his first ever visit to a Psychiatrists office. Judging from the furniture and lush surroundings, he came to the conclusion that the profession must be a lucrative one, and Heather MacMillan seemd to be doing okay for herself. If she had to deal with crazies all day, that was probably appropriate.

My name is Kaley Purdom and I write to you hopeful to give you some insight as to who I am as a person. A few things you should know is that I’m very reserved among people and apprehensive when it comes to speaking in class and or making speeches. Although, when around family and friends I liked to be hysterical, outgoing and boisterous. Making people laugh and smile are always enjoyable moments that I get throughout my life.

“AAH, I must have overslept!” The Hero rushed towards the window, and he saw that Monster Zero must have been busy for at least a few hours. He gathered all his weapons, and ran towards Monster Zero, somewhere where he could not be seen. “Alright, all monsters have a weak point, so where could it be……..aha! Monster Zero’s neck isn’t covered by any scales, so I must attack there!”

He is remarkable in my eyes and presents his extraordinary features to others, but believes he is only ordinary. Ryan is much more than just a normal person and if I had to sum up all of his hidden accomplishments, 20 vehicles to be exact, in one single word, I would use innovative. Why you ask? Well, Ryan, being his 21-year-old self, can make nothing into something. He could make a pile of brittle metal into a rocker panel on a car with his handy-dandy welder and many different tools I do not even know the name of.

As soon as Michael sat down, Allison gave Michael a strip tease. She slowly took off her dress. Once Allison stripped down to her underwear, she gave Michael a quick lap dance. She then stripped herself completely naked.

I slipped beneath the surface of the pool of grain, my hands sticking straight up over my head as I held my breath, preparing for death. I was preparing for the world to go silent. This was the exact situation my father had warned me about, and I had fallen victim to it despite that. Fourteen years old as of two months ago, and death had already come for me. Or so I thought. I felt firm, callused hands grasp my own, plucking me from my grave. The relief was wonderful. I drank the air in, filling my burning lungs with as much as possible. I almost laughed out of sheer happiness – until my eyes met my father’s.

Warm crimson ran down her arm leaving a metallic smell that filled the room to the brim. The silver slit of metal she used slipped out of her hand as her vision became blurred and her breathing became faint. She slowly came in and out of consciousness while her arms held a passage for her demons to escape from. She woke once again to feel a pounding in her head that consumed her thoughts, she tried yelp for help but only a small groan came out.

Leaves glistened in the moonlight, as the wind howled in despair. I found myself alone, in the darkness, as I noticed a slim figure walking towards me. Adrenaline rushed through my veins, as the individual walking towards me appeared to be a stranger. As the silhouette came closer, I realized that it was my dear aunt. Her face beamed with excitement, and she grabbed me into a tight embrace. “I am moving on,” she informed me as the corners of her mouth pulled into a genuine smile. She then turned around and began to gracefully amble out of the hinterland, as her shadow disappeared within the ominous darkness. I became aware that I was merely in a dream that was only a product of my subconscious mind. I became lucid, as relief washed over

My son’s Hunter Safety card came in the mail today. He tucked the card in his pocket.

It’s so still here, so quiet, so peaceful. I walked past rows of gravestones as I finally approached the site where my relatives lay. To many, visiting their relatives in a cemetery can be a sad experience; I however, was happy for them, because they still gathered together as they had before. I smiled as I remembered those times, when I was but a child and I could just barely see over the table. I could hear their talking and laughter again. How warm and familiar it all was! I remembered how laughter would erupt after my father told a good joke – he was always telling jokes. I could even smell the feast my mother and aunts would cook for us, and could almost feel them slapping my hand as I tried to sneak a piece of turkey before the meal. I remembered sitting at the smaller table with my cousins and siblings, feeling as if I were too old to sit at the kid's table. I remembered feeling left out, as if the adults kept some kind of grown-up secret from me. That same feeling I felt again, as I stood there seeing them all lying as they used to sit, in those two long rows. Although I had grown to be an adult, they still seemed to keep some secret from me, one that I was not to know of yet, one that I am not ready yet to

This Cemetery was one of the biggest ones in Richmond. So it made sense for people to get lost in a place that had almost the same style grave stones everywhere. I always looked for the big black bolder like rock that always marked my spot. "There it is". I walked over to it and started counting. One, the first grave had black roses. Two, the second grave had black roses. Three, the third grave had black roses. Four, "Here it is". I brushed off the grave and set down the roses oh so gently. I crouched down on my knees , with my head held high, looking deep into the grey dim sky. A tear ran down my face that

I am in a deep dark hole that I cannot escape, immensely grief-stricken by the bereavements of my father and his fellow men; our dear friends. I can still remember last week like it was yesterday, when my father and I walked along the beach as we witnessed the ocean kissing the southern shore. His loss will forever hit me hard like a rock. His time in this world came and went like time spent through an hourglass. Maybe, I should have let them murder me as well. (Looks around, feels the air) This ambience of grey mist has existed ever since my father’s death. The more I inhale this mist, the more dismal I feel. (Stand up from bed) WHY DIDN’T I JUST LET

My heart thumped with heaviness while my eyes slipped passed the car window as my family approached the local cemetery. Slate colored clouds hung low against the horizon, properly setting the temper for the journey we were making to my great-aunt’s grave in remembrance of her birthday.