This is the final writing piece Ill post tonight. I believe this one was in 2012. Another rough draft, its more of a premise for a story I wanted to write versus a short story itself. Its called Orange and Black. It is often believed that when people are born, they have a purpose in life to fill. Some choose it for themselves; others have their futures chosen for them, disciples of an inherited family tradition. But truly, what is the point in living if you never venture forth and carve your own path in the world? Tradition lacks progress. This was the view of two teenagers, their eyes to the night sky, yet their feet tethered to the earth, bound by the code of their families. Yet, this wasn’t just taking over some ramshackle ma-and-pa shop someplace downtown. Robbery, murder, extortion, laundering, smuggling. Two people born into a life of crime, destined to continue the family business. Not much room to go when their families have got half the city under their control. Not even the pitch-black alleyways and rundown shelters could give refuse from the city’s true overlords, atop their skyscraper thrones, gazing across their ocean of shadow, dancing with the illuminations of a million light bulbs. They say the world is your oyster, but not when you’re the pearl; beautiful, yet held captive from the world. Summer ends, and school begins. Yet another year fades, and another arrives in its place. On the first day, in an art class on the border of the campus, most of the class has already arrived. A boy hastily runs in as the bell rings, with ragged brown hair, glasses, and a messenger bag at his side. No seats, no seats, my counselor got me in here last minute, did she lie, are there still seats? God, I’m late, what am I going to do now? “There’s a seat over here if you want,” came the voice from a girl towards the back. Her scarlet red hair fall over her jacket, bright blue eyes outlined with heavy black eyeshadow An awkward smile and a muttered “Thanks…” later, the duo were seated, and class began. Senior year. The final year before the world tears you from the dream-like state of your childhood. Right from the start, there was a bond. The boy, Terence, was a gentle soul, a poet, a lover. The girl, Ashley, was much more of an aggressive, hot-headed party girl. Yet somehow, they found happiness, a deep connection through painting. Walks home turned into detours through the park. Going out to lunch turned into exploring the various shops around town. They spent more and more time together, attending all kinds of art galleries, concerts of local bands, little jazzy cafés, and whatever seemed interesting at the game. After one of these events, Terence has walked Ashley to her apartment, wandering across the rain-soaked sidewalks, painted a fierce orange by the streetlights, embraced together under one umbrella. Before she opened the door, he held her hand, and their eyes met for what seemed like an eternity. Suddenly, their lips met halfway, without a word was spoken. But, not a word needed to be spoken. Their love had to be secret. Neither allowed the other to meet the parents. The risk was too great. Excuses flowed, but the truth of the matter remained concealed. One kill here, another there. Both families, members of the two biggest criminal organizations in the city, were fighting for ultimate control of the city. Tensions brewed, and the pot of anger often overflowed. On one such day, both were called to the seen. What started as an ambush of Bottom Trigger’s drug deal turned into a massive shootout, bullets peppering the stale walls of the abandoned bayside warehouse. More members arrive, more blood flows. Terence and Ashley arrived in their cars to take away the bodies, never too much for fighting. Both brought guns, just in case. The car doors closed with a bang. They turned, guns pointed, eyes fiery, expressions wild. There they were, on the edge of death. Not a word needed to spoken. They knew exactly what they had to do. Growing up in a setting such as theirs, they had learned a thing or two about…less scrupulous activities. And so, they planned a heist of their family’s savings. Fake bank accounts, money laundering…they ended up with a fair fortune before the duo left, never to be heard from again, for they knew that returning would mean certain death. Venture forth past the crime, the bloodshed, and forge your own path, your own destiny. In another metropolis far removed from their home, they found…solace. After renting a cheap motel room, the duo sat around and considered their next course of action. They wanted to make up for their crimes. Protection, safety from evil, a chance to start anew. It was obvious. Terence and Ashley used their money to purchase an abandoned apartment complex, isolated, on the edge of town. Funds flowed from the bank as the duo worked to paint and fix all things damaged. Once the repairs had been completed, their new world needed a name. Edgewater. A border between two different worlds. And it was thus that the doors of Edgewater were open to all stray animals, lured by the promise of a new world like moths to a flame. All kinds of children, wishing to start again, arrived at this place, where they were free from the chains of their past life. The owners of Edgewater treated all of her guests like family. Everybody was important, everybody was loved. However, with all of these mouths to feed, clothe, and care for, the funds started to run low. You know what they say. One a thief, always a thief… Every so often, Edgewater would have to go on missions, “acquiring” items to sell to a shady pawnbroker known only known as “The Lord.” And it was so that the tribe of Edgewater would walk the streets, hidden in the shadows, painted by the orange glow of the streetlights. On certain nights, the tribe would sit on the roof and dream. Dream of reaching those stars in the sky. And dream knowing that they could.
Posted on: Tue, 03 Jun 2014 03:41:44 +0000
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