Hey y'all! I'm Rane, I've been kicking my feet for 18 years now, excluding the gestation. I'm an early graduate, so I'm delivering pizza until basic training in June 20. In that between time, I dream to be able to publish a book. So I got Prose! With this app, I wish to be able to not only improve my skills, but also find other authors to show me how they did it! Well, that's all that's relevant I believe. Thank you for having me, hope I can be an amusing guest!

-Rane

Today, a man asked me:

"How are you?"

instead of replying:

"Good"

like I always tend to lie, 

I answered with the truth:

"I don't know."

He asked me:

"Are you depressed?"

No one has seemed to notice.

I am slowly losing myself,

collapsing and breaking

into a million pieces of glass

except no one acknowledges,

my internal bleeding

or the scars that I hide

beneath the sleeves of my fabric.

I wanted to breakdown

and cry into that stranger's arms

but I could not. 

He noticed.

The first time I saw him, I was 15 years old. It was a cold night in December, and I was out past curfew with my friends Mark and Justin. And we had all been drinking. I remember I didn't particularly want the alcohol, but I also didn't want to be the lame friend who didn't know how to have a good time. So I drank the beer. We were walking back from a late night food run when Mark and Justin decided it would be fun to vandalize some Christmas decorations. My protests at their new found entertainment fell on deaf, drunken ears as they proceeded to tear down twinkling lights and smash all forms of Christmas decor. They moved from house to house, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. It was at the last shabby house on the street that I set eyes on him. At first, I believed him to be a disturbing decoration poised next to a small light up Santa. He was tall, nearly six foot, and covered in dark hair. He had two large, curved horns protruding from the sides on his forehead, and in both hands, he was holding chains. I noticed him before Mark and Justin. Perhaps I could have warned them if I was sober and didn't think my eyes were conjuring up images of monsters in my tired, cold, and inebriated state. When Mark and Justin finally spotted him, I believe they were having the same thoughts as me. But those thoughts were dashed when he moved toward them. I watched in horror as they attempted to flee from this beast, and, in their terror, tripped over their own destruction. The chains carried in each of the beast hands seemed to wrap around Mark and Justin of their own volition, and draw them back screaming into each of the beasts waiting arms. At this point, I believe I was screaming too, for this monster then laid eyes on me. He seemed to take stock of me in one sweeping glance. He smiled, showing rows of razor-edged teeth, and then turned on his hoof and fled with Mark and Justin into the night.

I'm not sure at what point the police showed up, to find me crumpled on the ground, crying and raving of creatures in the dark kidnapping my friends. I'm also not sure at what point they finally believed me as I told them repeatedly that Mark and Justin had been taken. I was kept at the station to sober up as my parents were called. And I was told that what I saw was probably someone in a mask pulling a prank, and that my friends were probably fine. The police would look into it. 24 hours later, when Mark and Justin hadn't turned up, the real panic set in. There was a large span of woods behind the shabby house where Mark and Justin were taken, and a search party was put together to look for them. Close to two days after they were taken, Mark and Justin were found chained in an abandoned cabin in these woods, scraped up, dehydrated, and petrified, but alive. When questioned about who had taken them, they told the police of a demon with cloven hooves and horns and razor teeth. The police blamed the alcohol and shock and some freak in a costume hell bent on "scaring the shit out of teenagers." Apparently, there was similar story of this freak in a costume a couple towns over.

And life went on. But for Mark, Justin, and I, things had drastically changed. Mark sobered up and became the ideal student and son, and I followed suit. Justin, however, chose an even more destructive path. As the year wore on, he drank in excess whenever he could manage. Shoplifting became a means to an end, as he would sell the stolen goods to get money for alcohol or drugs. Mark and I staged several interventions, but we could never break through to him. One evening, I tried to question Justin about that night last December with the horned man and what really happened. I had questioned Mark before, but he would never talk about it. I felt Justin needed to talk about it, seeing as December was just a couple weeks away. But Justin just shut me out. The next week, he showed up drunk to school and was suspended.

The second week of December, Mark and I went to visit Justin. He was still suspended from school, and we figured he could use the company. When we got to his house late that evening, he was drunk, but this was no surprise. And we stayed with him regardless. When Justin's parents got home, we decided to take a walk, largely because Justin didn't want his parents to know he was drunk again. It was a cold, quiet walk on a dead end road, with neighboring Christmas lights twinkling in the gloom. Mark broke the silence with words that trembled, and cut me to the core.

"Justin, you have to stop this. You know what he said."

More silence. Yet, I didn't have to ask who Mark was referring to. He had been weighing heavily on all of our minds since the return of December. And Justin didn't have time to make a reply, for it was at that same instant that we all saw him. He was waiting at the end of the road, horns protruding just as I remembered them. And he was smiling, rows of razor-edged teeth gleaming in the moonlight, and one chain held in his hand. I couldn't move. Terror paralyzed me. And when next he spoke, his words incited such dread, I thought I would vomit.

"Justin, I have been watching you all year. It would appear my warning has went unheeded. You will be coming with me."

And as the beast's smile broadened, the chain from his hand snaked its way to Justin and had him encased before we could register what had happened. I watched the tears roll from Justin's eyes, and his wailing screams will forever be branded in my psyche. We watched, helpless, as Justin was pulled into the beast's grasp. And with one more glance at Mark and I, the beast slipped away on cloven hooves with Justin chained in his arms into the night. The police later found Mark and I crumpled on the pavement, crying and raving about this cloven, horned beast taking our friend.

My sanity has been questioned many times since that night. But I know what I saw was no costume. Krampus is real. No one ever saw Justin again.

I wear this sodden sadness

sick, shit gift of irreverence

passed down through generations

my heirloom and inheritance

coarse mask was my creation

to dress a clinging worldview

born of torn experience and

stuck by sneering stupor glue

you crashed the common market

and shattered expectations

they lost their frame of reference

through deficient information

blind indifference made you sharper

cut a path across malevolence

those years bereft of markers

defined your right to relevance

we sleep restless under Rorschach sheets

long blotted by encasement

our psyche ward union paradox

released us from our basements

the ground below, a mystery

that barely holds our weight

a remnant of the Otherworld

collapsed by leap of faith

who knows what time may deal us

we'll likely just disintegrate or

crash then burn inside our flame

or sign a pact to terminate

'it always ends where it was born to begin'

i like people

who admit everything

they've done

the good,

the bad,

the ugly

because

an honest beast

is better

than a lying beauty.

Enraptured by your descent

Of consciousness and exhaustion

Beneath twilight's destruction

Into a renewed dawn's breath

Anticipation gleans my

Fixation upon your resting

Senses, leaving steadily

Our realm of shameless madness

Into another, far beyond

My grasp, my failing reach

Could that I join you there

Would we ever wake from sleep?

Now I await your sudden

Exhalation and brightened shift

Like a cloud burst with sun

Rupturing through the mist

For your mirth is my mirth

Repurposed and repossessed

And what haunts your health

Shares my shadow--kindred to death.

I will always remember

the day you said:

I love you.

I was a fool

to believe you.

Now, I lay half conscious

on the kitchen floor

blood seeping from

the knife wound

which you forced

into my bare skin.

Memories of you and I

run through my mind

because after all:

I will always love you.

Maybe a part of me

thought I deserved the pain. 

Once a heart is broken:

it can never be mended,

or remain constant

with a steady rhythm.

Our hearts are fragile,

like thin glass shards

whose pieces are nearly:

invisible.

It is impossible to forget

the feeling of our hearts,

shattering and falling

as we fear to get close

to another heart

who will know:

the truth.