Hell Hath

She lay there wishing, silently wishing, that his lips did not feel so good. They kissed stomach and her body moved with his soft red lips. Though her mind was still in a bind her body could not resist him. She tried to fight it, but each touch he dealt pulled her further into ecstasy. Tears streamed from her eyes as she struggled to keep pure thought. She knew that she, as a mortal, could not win against him. He held the key to her heart. He drew her in with his twisted manipulations, and she did not doubt him. How could pleasure, a thing which feels so good, possibly? It was not until later that she would find out she was only a pawn. A weapon in his war plan. An unwilling soldier in his army of lost souls. Christine was to have his child. She was to birth the Antichrist, whom would lead the world into darkness. She knew. But she could not escape him. How does one break free from Lucifer’s grip? She called apon God but he seemed not to answer. Christine thought that perhaps having the child was the plan of both Satan and God. Perhaps this war was meant to happen. It had to happen someday, and who is she to thwart the plans of God. She was just a girl. And after all, she did love him. She could never be the one to cause him harm or take from him his eternal happiness. He was tricky that way. He stole her heart. He made her his mistress. Lucas is what she called him when they first met. Lucas. It is Lucas’s body that lay tempts her now. Lucas’s strong red eyes and long black hair. Lucas’s soft, pale skin and perfect body. He was everything she could have ever wanted. His face, his body, his laugh, and the way he made her laugh. He was her dream. With each kiss he had ever given her there was a magic, a dark magic, that seemed to emit power and bliss. She could always feel hi power. It seemed strange to her at times. Almost inhuman. He was without insecurity or fear. He seemed immortal. Others seemed timid around him, but she did not fear him. She did not fear his power. She loved it. It made her feel powerful as well! Just being with him gave her strength beyond her own. He gave her this power. She was his mistress, after all. But why her? Why did he choose her? She was not special. She had nothing to offer. And why was he so kind to her? Never once was she forced to do his bidding and only by her own lust for him was she in her thought-she knew- that he must love her. The devil is capable of love right? He was once an angel, and “hell must be lonely” she though. She could feel him now. Christine could feel the tip of his manhood piercing her virgin flesh. Lucas looked into her eyes, reached out his masculine hand, and cradled her head. Christine was trapped. She loved him eternally. She was his. Her body relaxed and she gave in. She was the Satan’s mistress. The carrier of the Antichrist. She was his, and the entire underworld rejoiced. Hell hath a new queen. current bind. So why? Sometimes she

Shaherizad

I was thirteen years old when I first saw the Philadelphia Orchestra play. I was learning violin at Little Flower High School the summer before eighth grade, and I had never played any instrument before so I was excited. The camp director, who was also the high school’s orchestra director, was this short, chubby balding Italian man name Mr. Panchelli, and Mr. Panchelli was a freak for classical music. He decided we camp kids should learn how the functions of a professional orchestra should look on stage, so Mr. Panchelli arranged a field trip to the man theater to see the Philadelphia Orchestra play a rehearsal. We arrived at the theater and all piled into our seats to watch the performance. Around us where many benefactors of the orchestra who, upon donation, received free tickets to all of the rehearsals. The conductor walked out on stage to settle the audience and welcome everyone. Before each piece that was played he explained the origin and nature of the piece. About two ballads into the performance the conductor announced Joshua Bell as a guest violinist. He walked out on stage and waved and bowed and began to play with the orchestra sitting behind him. Now, just before we had arrived our teacher had announced to us that Joshua would be playing as well. He then continued to give us a brief play-by-play of Joshua Bell’s life. Joshua Bell: · Started playing violin at the tender age of four. · Began playing with the Philadelphia Orchestra at the age of 14 · Yade yade yada, I stopped listening after awhile and started talking to my friend about if he would be cut. Now, let me just tell you, he is! And he is also a genius. Watching him play was the most amazing thing I had ever seen! He played so freely! So wildly! His body was like jazz music the way it moved about, which I had never seen before because so many violinists can be ridged when they play. So there I was watching the Joshua Bell, the Yoyo Ma, of the violin playing his heart out. The rest of the orchestra seemed like nothing compared to him. We girls, sat in the back of the theater watching, through our binoculars, and lusting after this sexy, muscular, talented genius of a man. I didn’t think the show could get any better than that. I was wrong. At the end of the 4th song the conductor turned to the audience to introduce the next piece. The next piece was a section from the song Shaherizahd. Before I explain to you my opinion of this piece, let me explain to you the story behind the music. Shaherizad is an old Indian folk tale about a sultan who had trouble getting to sleep at night. Every night the sultan would order his guards to bring him a woman. He would demand that each woman tell him a story that entertain him and put him to sleep, and if their stories failed they would be put to death. Well every night the guards would bring him a woman and every night the woman failed and was killed. Until, one night the guards collected a young girl named Shaherizahd to bring to the sultan. Shaherizahd knew that if she did not entertain the sultan he would have here killed. So she told the sultan the best story she knew. The sultan was entertained and wanted more of the young girls’ stories, so for almost 3 years Shaherizahd lived with the sultan and told him stories and over those three years the sultan fell in love with Shaherizahd and made her his wife. The song Shaherizahd was inspired by the story and each section of the song is meant to portray each story that Shaherizahd told to the sultan. So as we all sat there and listened to this song we began to feel drowsy. The song was so beautiful and each story that it told was so vivid, and, yet, we could not hold our heads up. We were wide awake only moments before the song, and when the song ended we seemed to snap back out of our dream states. Shaherizahd was like a lullaby, doing to us what each story was meant to do to the king. I kept trying to stay awake. The song was so beautiful and enticing that I did not want to miss a beat. I felt like a child trying to stay up to hear the end of a bedtime story, so interested with lids so heavy. It was as if the music notes floating above my head where sprinkling sleeping sand over my head. I had never been so moved by music before. To be so physically effected by a song was so strange to me. I could not control my body; it was as if the music had seized me. I fell in love then. No song has ever again infected my body in such an intense way. For a composer to create something so power continues to perplex me to this day. The show ended. We went on our merry ways back home. We chitter chattered about the gorgeous Joshua bell and which one of us would marry him, and this and that, but all the way I sat perplexed by the melodious song that had seized me. The day…that moment, will forever stick out in my mind. That is what inspired me to be an artist. To have such skill with my art and take people the way that song had taken me is my dream as an artist. I will forever be working to over shadow Shaherizahd.