Excerpt from "The Lasting" by Kevin Turner

          The screaming stopped and the air around me stiffened and grew cold. I was lost. I had no idea how to find camp again, yet alone the beach... I could no longer hear the sound of the waves rolling up on the soft, silky sand or the crackle of the warm campfire. Instead, these noises were replaced by a dark and eerie silence that carved fear into my bones. All I could see was that which was illuminated by the light of my campfire torch.

          I wasn't only lost, I was alone in these forsaken woods with that... creature, whatever it was. I carefully made my way through the trees and brush holding the torch out to light my way. There was caution in every one of my steps and a frantic gasp in every breath as the hands of terror slowly choked the life out of me. Something was watching. It was watching, waiting… hunting me like an animal. I couldn't take it. I began to run, desperately trying to find some opening; trying to get away from these dreadful trees.

          I ran until I couldn't run any more. I was tired and I needed sleep but I forced myself to stay awake. If I didn't I knew I would die. I knew that whatever had dragged that poor man in here would find me and I wouldn’t stand a chance. Gasping for breath, I stumbled upon a small opening in the trees just wide enough to move a few people around freely in; no bigger than a small cabin space on the ship. How I missed that ship now...

          Everything was quiet and my breath was heavy from dashing through the trees but there was a familiar sound in the distance, the sound of the ocean. My heart ached and longed for the safety of the campfire and my friends. The sun was still below the horizon most likely, but I could tell from the color of the night sky that I could see through the canopy above that it was going to be rising soon.

          Turning in the direction of the sounding waves I suddenly found myself staring into four bright eyes about five feet away that burned like fire into the back of my skull. Their pupils were nonexistent and the entire eye was green and shone in the direct light of the torch. I stumbled and fell backwards dropping the torch in the leaves on the ground as the figure made its way down the side of a tree. Fear gripped me and overcame every attempt to scream or get up and run and the figure reached the forest floor. Its eyes hovered there about knee height off the ground waiting and staring at me. What was it waiting for? As it slowly stepped into the moonlight cast on the ground I could make out every feature of it. All eight of the spider's legs were decorated with hair and hooks at the joint. It was a deep blue color with dashes of purple and black on its abdomen and legs. Its fangs were no less than the size of my hand and as it got closer I could make out four more little eyes underneath the originals.

          Suddenly a fiery pain enveloped my shoulder and I struggled to stand up. When I did I could feel the wait of another spider on my back. It was about as heavy as a two year old and it had sunken its fangs into my collar bone. The other spider had just been distracting me. These things were smart... I backed up until I hit a tree and crushed the cursed things legs between my back and the bark. It bit down harder and squealed and screeched in pain then finally let go and fell to the forest floor. I kicked it away and looked around finding the other spider as it was crawling up the side of a nearby tree. The leaves around me had caught fire and it was spreading rapidly.

          I made a break in the direction of the waves I could hear in the distance. Tripping and falling many times along the way, I finally cleared the trees and staggered into the soft wet sand. I felt sick and cold and after falling to the ground on my knees I fell ill, emptying my stomach onto the beach before I turned back around to face the trees. To my horror I whitnessed nearly a dozen large spiders scurrying out of the woods after me.

          Try as I may I couldn't stand or bear any weight on my knees any longer. I collapsed in the sand and watched in utter defeat as they approached me. Then one of them shrieked and hissed as it stepped into the light emanating from the sun that had just a second ago hit the beach as it rose above the horizon. Soon they were all screeching as I watched the sun beat them back to the edge of the forest where they took shelter under the canopy which was now smoking.

          I could also make out a small line of black rising from the beach in the distance. It was camp, but I was completely immobilized. I couldn't even move my fingers. So close to salvation but then so far... The last thing that went through my head before I blacked out was, yell Dante! Yell damn it! Yet the only thing that escaped my lips was a small sigh of despair...

You or the Dog

          If your hands were bound behind your back and you were placed into a small cage on your knees in which a vicious dog was waiting to kill you, would you be able to fight and kill the dog with your teeth out of will to survive and sense of self-preservation? In other words, could a human being become vicious enough... even more vicious than the dog... to kill and survive?

What is Our Existence Worth?

          Sometimes, as a human being, we all must take a couple steps back and allow ourselves to feel belittled. We must humble ourselves as beings of life. Take a third person view of yourself and ask, "What is this? What am I?"
          The fact of the matter is, we are just too small. Our existence is so little in a population of billions. Beyond that, even the entire human population is a spec compared to earth itself. All seven billion of us and counting occupy less than three percent of the land on earth. and dry land only makes up about twenty nine percent of the entire earth's crust. This means that the human race occupies less than one percent of the entire earth's surface.
          Now take a step further back and look at the solar system we live in. The sun that we revolve around is large enough to fit about 1,000,000 earths inside of it. That sun is also small in comparison to stars such as Betelgeuse which has a radius that is roughly 1,200 times the size of our sun's radius. That being said, think of how many of these stars are out there. Trillions upon trillions of stars make up one galaxy such as the Milky Way. At this point we are beyond comparative size. We would be invisible on a subatomic level.
          Yet we're still not finished... At the center of the Milky Way is a black hole that is Billions of times larger than any star in existence. The Galaxy is millions of times larger than that and it is still small compared to the rest of the universe. We are not even a blip on a blip on a blip anymore. We might as well not exist.
          So what the hell are we? We are thousands of years away from any technology that could prevent life's obliteration. We are destined to be destroyed by something we will never be able to prevent. Why does our existence matter in the grand scheme of things...? I cannot believe that we would survive the endless things that the universe will throw at us forever...

To Survive for the Sake of it

If I can’t say what I need,

Then why speak at all?

If I leave my thoughts behind,

Then my ideas will perish.

My mind is my sanctuary,

And nothing can penetrate,

So I must love and protect it,

So my resolve will not perish.

My resolve is my life,

It I must feed and encourage,

For if I don’t and I it starves,

My mind will surely perish.

My resolve preserves my mind,

Because I resolve to protect it,

And my mind protects my resolve

For if they don’t they must perish.

Intertwined in my head,

And locked in ballet,

They preserve themselves,

Because I would perish.

The Annoying Unsaid Rhyming Rule

I cannot help but ask,

Why a poem must rhyme,

Such tedious a job (task)

Is a waste of my energy (time)

                                                 

I find many a verse,

That failed; overthought,

To practice and train (rehearse)

I surely will try (not)

So consider this tool,

Don’t be the same,

When breaking the law (rule)

Try not to be standard (lame)

My advice, please be taking,

It’s not shallow or fake,

The rules are for crushing (breaking)

So just give me a rest (break)

A Lone Wolf

          Sometimes there are fights that not a single person in the world can help us with. Sometimes we must stand and face the music, and we must do it alone. The lone wolf is the one that is silent when night comes. The one that doesn't howl and bay at the moon.
          We all suffer, and we all hurt... But some of us deal with pain better than others. I tend to alienate when I hurt; destroy my social connections and remain silent. Others will scream at the top of their lungs until someone comes to help; until someone comes to rescue them from themselves, because thats truly what their problem is. Its not what they think is hurting than but rather their own stress induced painful, mourning cycle.
          But you see... When wolves leave the pack they learn to survive. They don't just die off. Granted, maybe some do. Maybe the week ones. But lone wolves learn to fight and fend for themselves. They become stronger than any individual member of a pack... but still not stronger than the pack of course. They don't care though. They don't want to be... They want to be left alone.
          But see, there is a rare occasion that happens every now and then. A meeting of these special beings that starts off as a hostile or disturbing, unwelcome engagement but then ends up resulting in the molding of a group of loners. Such a contradictory idea... yet it certainly happens. They couple up or they make a small group of bonded individualism that stands out amongst the popular crowd and the masses. They shine in their own way, and they would defend each other to the death.
          Life is most interesting for these beings. They love it. They thrive off of it and they are the true silent sufferers. But they are the true conquerers as well. You'll never tame one. You'll never catch one. You'll never kill one.
          So don't try. Don't bother. Don't disturb them. Don't disturb us...

I Finally Have Time to Write but There's Nothing to Write About!

          Either that or there's too much. I'm most likely going to follow in my friends' examples and start writing my poems for my English project, but that would be too easy. I need a topic to rant on or glorify. It's been way to long.