The main reason, if I'm totally honest, it pretty simple! I've been struggling for something to say. I think overall, baring in mind everything life has thrown at me recently, that I am doing okay; I'm staying reasonably positive... but there are also plenty of dark patches. I do a good job of disguising them, or at least I thought I was, until some people started pointing out things like how quiet I am (and we all know that's not like me at all) or how distant I've been lately. Now the latter is not that unusual, I've always joked about being in my own little world because of my reading and writing habits. But the distance currently hasn't been a creative one. My imagination seems to have gone on strike! So even my new stories that I started have gone on hold for the time being, as I just don't seem to be able to get into writing them. The most imaginative I have gotten recently was messing about via text with Dean the other night, throwing a story back and forth. It got pretty good to be honest (I'll throw it onto the end of this post for anyone interested in our joint efforts!) But other than that, diddly squat!
The other day I got thinking about my unquestionable absence in blog land, and was about to write a post, but ended up with a 'why bother' attitude - barely anyone reads it anyway. So, out of curiosity - I want to know who my audience is these days... I want to know who is still reading my random rambles, and what, if anything, you'd like me to blog about?! (Book/film reviews, stories and tid bits from my writing, adventure and photo updates - name it on my Facebook post for this update, and I'll give it a go!) Who knows, maybe this is the push I need! Other than that, give my Facebook post a like if you're still reading, let me at least know who I am writing for nowadays!
Anyway - wolves! This post comes from Dean giving me a kick up the ass without even knowing it. He was actually trying to be funny, bigging himself up as the alpha of our relationship... but it hit home in a way I needed.
This is what he sent me...
(Image taken from the Internet - no copyright intended)
Get it now? I always said I was a wolf!! After all my talk in previous posts about staying strong, I've been letting stuff get to me these last few weeks. I need to stop letting what someone else says and thinks of me rule me. I know who I am, and I believe in me. No-one can change that unless I let them, and I'll be damned if I let anyone change me! I reread some of my posts about staying strong and have given myself a good talking to. I have family around me, Sammy by my side, Dean's support, and friends that I know are there for me if I need them. What else does a girl need, really?
So now it is time for bed with my little lion, in my new pyjamas that are mega comfy... Positive thoughts - tomorrow is a new day!
Louby x
~~~~~
The story
Me: Gravel crunched underfoot as I crept carefully down the path towards the mansion that sat back from the road. An old wooden shutter banged eerily as the wind whipped around me and I pulled my coat tighter around me to keep my body heat.
Dean: The moon was full, highlighting the shadows on the ground, playing tricks on me the leafless branches looking like fingers on the ground. The more I walked, the further away the door seemed...
Me: I crept closer, the noise my shoes made echoing despite the howl of the wind. When I finally reached the the door, my heart hammered wildly in my chest. What was I getting myself into?
Dean: I knocked twice... no answer.. maybe I didn't knock hard enough? I knocked again this time hurting my knuckles a little! As I pulled my hand back I heard footsteps behind me, maybe my mind playing tricks on me? As I turned the door opened slowly... the creak of the old door sent shivers down my spine...
Me: Could the stories really be true? Technically this house was supposed to be empty, it sure looked derelict enough. How could anyone actually live here? But the stories... Was she real?
Dean: She can't be real can she? The stories are older than I remember. The door had opened just a little, the cold of the house gently blowing on my face. I quickly looked around but could see nothing but the path I had walked down... Should I go in? Or run away like I always do?
Me: Taking a deep breath and balling my hands into fists, I pushed the door open fully. The loud creak rang out like a gun shot in the night and I jumped. Hold it together. What was it my father always told me? The first step was always the hardest... Another deep breath and I put one foot over the threshold to the rickety old house.
Dean: I was in, to say I was out of my comfort zone was an understatement, I realised I had closed my eyes... I was stood there in that big cold house, fists clenched and eyes closed... I needed to be brave... I needed to do this! I opened my eyes slowly, I wish I hadn't... I stood there frozen...
Me: Her breath rattled as she breathed in, and the air in front of her clouded when she breathe out. Her eyes were dark, almost black, and her long wiry hair fell limply to her shoulders, the withered grey making her look almost witch like. Though weren't they the stories? The witch, the scary old hag that lived in the abandoned house at the end of the lane...
Dean: Neither of us blinked... we stood there for what seemed like an eternity, I don't think I took a breath as we stared at each other! I was in shock however she seemed calm about me being there, how would I feel? A stranger in my house? She seemed comfortable almost as if she was expecting me.
Me: 'You took you time dear,' she finally croaked out, a sound so hoarse that I knew she hadn't spoken aloud in a very long time. I stuttered, she couldn't have known I was coming here. I hadn't known I was coming here until I'd found myself at the crumbling old gate at the start of the path.
Dean: She walked over, her feet barely leaving the ground, an almost shuffle with her heel rubbing the ground every second step. The noise was the only thing I could hear echoing through the house. She moved closer, louder and louder the shuffle got, her eyes fixated on the door. As she brushed past me I got the smell of lavender... I stood there all of a sudden feeling warm and comforted by the smell, like it was familiar to me somehow... As I stood there trying to understand she had closed the door and one back through the to the other room... Should I follow?
Me: I knew the stories, I knew the horrors that had supposedly happened in this house. Every part of me screamed that I should run, I should get out of this house before I became the next story, but there was something about that smell, something that made me follow her without even making the concious decision to stay. I must be crazy...
Dean: I followed her... I had never walked so slowly. Clumsy old me didn't even make a sound in this big old house! As I got into the room I didn't know what to expect... But nothing, she had gone. How could she disappear like that? All that was there was a box on a table covered in dust, as if no one had been in that room for years...
Enjoy x
