Hedanicreations

Poetry, fiction, blog by H. Danielle Crabtree

Browsing Posts in Fiction

First Person POV:

I was use to the slow pace of life, when each day began and ended without deviation from the norm. It was a boring existence, but the quiet days and quieter nights left me with a sense of peace that had been absent in my younger years. I knew most people believed that I was a soft-spoken, unassuming woman, but the saying about the quiet ones being the wildest was true in my case. Someday those wild days of youthful indiscretion would catch up with me, and then my beautiful existence would be turned upside down. Until then, I was content to watch the sun rise with a cup of coffee, play with the dogs, and toil about the house. Living quietly was all she ever wanted, and it was for her that I played this part.

– H. Danielle Crabtree

First Person POV:

It was three in the morning, and I was awake — wide awake — staring out my front window at the incessant rain. The gentle cadence used to lull me to sleep as a child, but I no longer found comfort in the rain or the night. Too many evil things happened in the shadows, and I knew that my quarry was out there now slinking in the shadows. I knew what he wanted; I knew the strength of his impulses; and that he was one of the scariest sociopaths that I had ever had to profile.

I had barely slept since I took this case, and more often then not, I stood watching the darkness trying to out think someone who by definition was unpredictable. He was drawing me into his delusions, and I knew it was only a matter of time before my gift forced me to cross from the realm of sanity to illusion. He was breaking my mind the harder I tried to analyze him, and I knew the wisest choice would be to step away. But I couldn’t. He was the spider and I had become the fly. Unfortunately for the spider, this fly was about to destroy his web — I had found the loose thread.

– H. Danielle Crabtree

Another first person POV that I was playing with. I kind of like first POV the more I play with it, which astounds me. I’ve always been adamantly against writing in it, but it’s fantastic when exploring characters.

Here goes:

My body ached, screaming although my voice remained silent. It heeded the desires of my heart that were silenced by my willful mind. I dismissed the possibility that asking him to stay would take away the pain and make me once again feel whole. It was ludicrous for me to ask. He had made his choice, and I had made mine. Our roads split along time ago, and I had known for awhile that it was only a matter of time before the distance between us became as vast as the Grand Canyon. There was no bridge across, and I was not about to kamikaze off the rim to reach him.

It wasn’t until the door shut that the ache of my body overcame my will. I crumpled to the floor, rolling into a ball. I sobbed like a fool while I tried to remind myself why I had chosen this solitary fate. My pride. My anger. How easy they overshadowed and destroyed love when allowed to root and fester. They had burned me from the inside out, and I understood now why I hurt. Without love, without him, I was but a shell — not living, only existing in world once riddled with possibilities. Today, it held nothing for me but a dismal black maze that sought to keep me lost forever.

– H. Danielle Crabtree

First Person POV:

I glanced up, and my body screamed in alarm. On the darkened path before me, a figure stood. I flipped on the flashlight, shining it at the shadow, but there was nothing in its place — only an empty path that cut through the sparse pine grove.

I sighed, calling my dog back to me. He hadn’t barked, and he usually behaved in a measured fashion whenever he was alarmed. I shook my head, clearing away the hallucination addling my nerves. I knew that was what it was. I could usually tell when another living soul was near me. It was a sixth sense that felt like electricity tickling down my back. I had not felt any of that, so naturally I concurred that it was more than likely an optical illusion surfacing from the depths of my overtired mind. Still, I didn’t want to continue any farther down the path.

I spun around, feeling securer with every step I took back toward civilization. I paused, glancing over my shoulder, and then called the dog back again. He was sniffing at the shadows, tail-wagging, like he always did when he greeted an old friend. But I could see nothing with the light. At least whatever ghost was haunting me meant no malice, or if it did, it had charmed the bite out of my guardian.

I flicked the flashlight off, allowing the moonlight to once again guide my footfalls. I really didn’t want to return to the confines of the four walls I called an apartment or the confines of my office. I just had a feeling, though, that if I turned around and continued on my customary loop that the hallucination that sparked my fear would become a full-blown reality.

– H. Danielle Crabtree

First Person POV:

I let his hand slip away, and as I lost the connection, I felt as if I could not breathe. Every thing I knew screamed that I could not let him go; I could not let him walk away without losing a piece of myself. He had been with me every step of the way; he had fought for me, almost died for me; and now, he was leaving — and I had the feeling it was in some strange way also for me. He was selfless in so many ways, but arrogant and brash. He reacted on instinct, forgetting the pleasantries of life and spoke often without tact. I hated that about him until I remember that his pushes made me pull. He had become my moon, ebbing the tides of my life, and I couldn’t continue without his steady rhythm even when he made me want to scream.

And I did just that.

His name crossed my lips in a desperate cry seconds before I had even decided that I could not let him go. My feet carried me at a run on the same path he had just walked. I could still see the slight press of his boots upon the dusty ground. I cried out again as I came to a stop. He stood before me, emotionless and unchanging in posture and expression. But his eyes — the ever soulful gems — spoke to me as they had upon our first meeting. There was hope in them now, as if he was waiting for me to ask. He would not stay, if I did not ask, and I knew I had to swallow my pride or watch him turn his back for the second time that day.

“Stay,” I pleaded. I did not bother with pretense or to guard myself as I had been taught. I wanted nothing to stand between us anymore. Not pride, not arrogance, not selfishness. I only wanted love, his love, and I begged the great spirits to grant me his heart. Mine was already lost to him.

– H. Danielle Crabtree

First Person POV:

When I woke, every nerve tingled with the sensation of a thousand pins. My head ached, but that was second to the pain in my stomach. I groaned and shifted against the soft cushions beneath me. I cautiously opened my eyes, first cracking one and then the other when I was certain the blazing sun would not onslaught my sensitive eyes. I watched the cold stone of the ceiling, thankful for the darkness that surrounded me, as I tried to remember how I had gotten here.

–H. Danielle Crabtree

First Person POV:

I could feel the pulse of the fire even before I could see the flame. It’s very essence was my life’s blood, a part of my being even as it consumed. I know one day its burn would end me, but tonight, I was safe. She was here with me, keeping the pulsing flame at bay with her liquid calm. It took only one glance into her blue eyes for my anxiety to melt away. I trusted her as a child trusted his parent to guide him. I knew she would never lead me astray, even when I fought against the path she lead me on. However, one day, I knew I’d look back with regret if I followed my original course and ignored my guiding star.

– H. Danielle Crabtree

First Person POV:

The river had turned to mud, oozing along with the viscosity of honey. I paused, looking at the brown substance and again over my shoulder. It was my only escape, and I knew it was better to chance the river than face what was following me — so I let it carry me away. Surrounded by the darkness, I still felt apart from the polluted stream. I was following its course, but I was not one with it, and it somehow secured my heart — even as the organ lurched when I fell over the waterfall. I braced for the impact, wondering if this was the moment of death, only to open my eyes to a clearing stream and my feet firmly beneath me.

– H. Danielle Crabtree

First Person POV:

When death was your constant companion, you never stopped to question why. It became the normal ray of existence, like a shadow in the sun or a ragged breath after an intense battle. You learned to live with it.

I was the dealer of the death, the fire prince, the monster that came in the night to destroy a person’s world with flame. I could hear their murmurs calling me the devil when I past by, and I knew it was fear alone that stayed their hands from ending my existence. Many had tried, and yet here I still stood — a child, not quite a man, but something evil in the world. I was what I hated, and I knew that alone would one day kill me.

–H. Danielle Crabtree

First Person POV:

The sky burned like fire, an orange glow that always reminded me of the night paradise fell. I grabbed her hand, pulling her through the pine forest at a faster pace. He was coming; it was the only thing it could mean. He had scorched the sky to destroy the night, relieving them of their veil. There was nowhere to hide now, not even in the dark, but still, all I could think to do was run and lead her away from what was coming. I could already hear the dogs with their masters, and the pounding horse hooves against the forest floor.

A fire flickered within, and I could feel the flames from my fingertips. I was loosing control in the midst of my fear, and it did not help that she was begging me to stop, pleading with me to tell her what was wrong. But how did you tell an angel that a demon sought her life? And how did you tell an angel that the demon was your kin? And how did you tell that same angel that at one point it was me who was supposed to end her in favor of another’s greed? I was no saint in this story, but I found myself loving her still.

–H. Danielle Crabtree