Heeeey long time no see

Not 100% sure I can come this week (I'm scheduled off early, but I don't know if they'll ask me to stay or if I'll be too tired or what), so I'm posting two super short stories here just in case. The first is creepy, the second is fan fiction so you probably won't get it...
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This first story is based on a dream I had (anyone that follows me on twitter or has seen my status update on facebook--this is the one my characters were in).
*
He's having another episode. His hair is long and messy, he hasn't shaved for weeks it seems.
"I want you to bury me."

Out in the backyard, everything is slowly turning grey. I stare at the broken swingset and he continues to rant in a language I can't understand. I follow him to a greyed vegetable garden, and kneel, my numb hands digging into grey dirt.

Under the grey there is black, thick dirt. I remove the skeleton lying there, first the skull and lower jaw, then a spine and ribcage, hipbones and legs. As he lays down, I stumble to my feet, hearing but not feeling my sobs. At the edge of a bright green lawn I fall to my knees, choking on the sobs as I crawl. The tall man with white-blonde hair and cold blue eyes stares down at me.
"Hurry up," is all he says.

My fingers wrap around clumps of black soil, and I drop them onto the man in the hole. He lies still, calm and pale at first. More dirt is followed by his chest heaving and a wide grin on his face. He starts thrashing in panic when a pile lands over his face, but he doesn't move to stand; mania overcoming the instinct to survive. I stop, but the two men tell me to keep going. I can't feel the dirt in my hands as I push the dirt from the edge onto him.
--

And I'm just going to copy-and-paste my explanation from deviantArt onto here for this second one. This is fan fiction for Axis Powers Hetalia an anime and manga I've been into recently. Basically, it's about the countries of the world--personified. To clear up any confusion, or to confuse you more: Elizabeta (Héderváry)=Hungary, Roderich (Edelstein)=Austria. In the anime/manga they're only referred to by their country name, but the creator gave some of them human names too.
The "compromise" refers to the Austro-Hungarian Compromise of (year I can't remember) that created the Austrian-Hungarian Empire.
*
It was just a political marriage, to signify the compromise between their two kingdoms. Roderich didn't care if that's all other people thought of it, he loved Elizabeta, and his reasons for proposing to her in the first place had little to do with the compromise. He could only hope she had said yes because she loved him back.

The organ droned out a song Roderich was surprised he was sure he knew, but couldn't remember the name of it. He knew he had to be nervous if he couldn't even recognize something by an Austrian composer--if it was an Austrian composer, he couldn't remember. The murmured chatter buzzed in the background of the music, and Roderich caught a few stray phrases, mostly about how nervous, sick, or uptight he looked. The music shifted, and the crowd rose. Roderich froze, slowly turning his head to look down the aisle, his eyes going wide. Elizabeta appeared from behind the large oak doors, a small smile on her face. She clutched a bouquet close to her, edelweiss and tulips surrounded by white and red roses, tiger lillies, and baby's breath, all tied together with purple and gold ribbon. It might have been the candle light, but to Roderich's eyes she was almost glowing. She walked down the aisle slowly, and Roderich barely remembered to reach out and take her hand as she reached him. She handed her boquet to one of the girls who had been holding her train, then turned to face Roderich, her green eyes wide with the same nervousness her smile had. Roderich returned the smile, gently taking her hands into each of his.

Later that night, as the two spun around the dance floor in a waltz, Elizabeta leaned in close to him, whispering in his ear.
"I lieb di."
Roderich paused for a moment, taken by surprise. Then he smiled, turning his head to whisper in return.
"Én is szeretlek."
*
(I lieb di=Bavarian for "I love you"
Én is szeretlek=Hungarian for "I love you too"
At least, that's what the internet tells me. I used Bavarian because I read somewhere that that's the dialect of German they speak in Austria. Again, so says the internet.)

80. Words

Sorry I couldn't be there tonight guys.

This is the first poem I've written in a while. It's #80 (Words) for the 100 Theme Challenge I'm doing. If anyone wants a list of the themes, it's in my deviantArt journal, or I could post it here if you prefer :)
***
80. Words

sticks and stones
might break my bones
but your words
will never hurt me

snakes and spiders
have venom that could kill
but the venom in your words
cannot harm me

knife and sword
can stab right through
but your sharp words
cannot

words and phrases
can do harm
can hurt in so many ways
but only if I let them

No writing, but I have some drawings from class...

Perspective exercises, not really in order. These are up in my deviantArt gallery, too. I'd offer to bring the originals, buuuut the paper is 18x24 inches XD

Another part of last week's story

This introduced Lynne and Leon. Same storyline as the story I brought in last week, but a different time (further ahead). I think I might write most of this story in seperate sections then put them together, it might work better.
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8 YEAR OLD SURVIVES CHURCH FIRE
Firefighters were shocked to find a 10 years-old girl in St. Matthew‘s Cathedral, frightened but unharmed, during a fire Saturday. Calls about the fire came in around 6:30 PM Saturday evening. Details about the fire are unknown at this time. Police are currently investigating the fire, and have not said if the child found in the church is suspected to be involved…

Lynne stared down at the newspaper clipping Leon had dropped in front of her, looking back up at him with her brow narrowed.“That was you, right?” Leon asked, leaning forward with both hands down on the table. Lynne shrugged, looking away from his dark eyes.
“Police eventually found the origin of the fire. Turned out it started at the front of the church, by the doors,” Leon explained, “There’s no way someone could’ve started that and gotten out. And you were the only one in there.”
“I never said it was me,” Lynne snapped.
“Don’t try to fool me, Lynne,” Leon warned. “I’m fully aware of what you can do.”
“You don’t know anything.”
Leon smirked, taking back the newspaper clipping and sliding it into the folder in front of him. He picked it up, and flicked the front open, holding it open with one hand with the other in the pocket of his black slacks.
“Lynne Maier, 16 years old,” he read aloud, “Caucasian female, five feet four inches tall, 125 pounds. Brown hair, blue eyes. Confirmed,” he emphasized, “pyrokinetic.”
Lynne watched him suspiciously.“So?”
“Who else could have started that fire?” Leon dropped the file back onto the table.
“I don’t need that to tell me what you can do, Lynne,” he explained, his voice low, “I’ve seen it for myself.”

Lynne glared at the older man from the corner of her eye.
“So what if I did it?” she asked angrily, “My mom just dumped me there!”
Leon stepped back, walking back to his side of the table. He kept an eye on Lynne as he pulled his chair back.
“Try to not lose your temper, please,” he said calmly, “this room isn’t completely fire proof.”
Lynne shot another glare at him.
“I was 8,” she said, barely keeping her voice even, “I could barely control it then; I still can’t!” She shook her head, hanging it low.
“She just left me. She was scared of me. I lost my temper and…” she looked at Leon through her bangs. “It’s not like I did it on purpose,” she muttered. Leon’s expression was sympathetic.
“Of course I know that, Lynne,” he said soothingly. Lynne didn’t seem convinced.
“There wasn’t anyone there.”
“I know,” Leon looked through Lynne’s file again.
“We can train you,” he said, Lynne looking up at him in surprise. “Or we’ll take the necessary measures to make sure you’re not allowed in public.”
Lynne flinched back. She knew she was high up on the list of dangerous “gifted citizens”.
“So that’s the only choice I have? Go through your training program, or be locked up for the rest of my life?”
“Basically,” Leon replied.
“I would suggest training,” a smirk flickered onto Leon’s face. “I’ve seen where they keep gifted people like you, Lynne. It’s very unpleasant.”
Lynne sighed quietly.
“Guess I only have one option, then. I'll go through your stupid training.”

Barbara's story (untitled)

Just a quickie. I went off the "100 Theme Challenge" I'm doing. The theme was "Illusion".
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The humidity percentage and temperature were nearly the same, just like any other night. That wasn’t, the drug dealer knew, the reason why the man in front of him was sweating. He was one of his usual clients, who hadn’t shown up at the usual time the past few weeks. Withdrawal was starting to affect him, just like all the others who tried to quit. The street was deserted, save for the occasional stray dog or cat, and the two men were standing at the edge of the yellow pool of light from an overhead streetlamp.
“Haven’t seen you for a while, Marty,” the dealer commented with a sneer.
“I-I know,” Marty stammered, “I th-thought I c-c-could quit b-but-”“Not a problem, not a problem,” the dealer said soothingly, patting his client on the shoulder as his other hand reached into his pocket, “I’ve got your usual fix right here.”
“Oh, g-g-good, thanks…” Marty said with a weak smile, his eyes shifting around nervously as he took the small bag into his hands.
The next thing the drug dealer knew, several police officers were surrounding him.
He looked around wildly for Marty, only finding another police officer in his place.
The officer had similar pale blue-green eyes that Marty had, and was lean like Marty, but with muscle tone instead of just skin and bone. He was taller, with short strawberry-blonde hair instead of long, scraggly black. There was something slightly feminine in his face and build, though…
“Wha…” he turned wildly in the middle of the circle he was now in the middle of.
“James Hillshire, down on the ground,” the officer in front of him said calmly.
James slowly sunk to his knees, eyes wide with shock and confusion.
“Hands behind your head,” another officer ordered, stepping up behind him. James obeyed, reluctantly, as the officer clicked the handcuffs onto his wrists.
The blonde in front of him grabbed his arm to help hoist him off the ground, looking him in the eye as he (she? Something about the pitch…) spoke again.
“James Hillshire, you’re under arrest for possession and distribution of illegal narcotics,” the two officers started escorting him towards a car at the curb, that he knew wasn’t there before. “We have some questions to ask you. As you know, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you a court of law…”
James had heard this before. Before, the officers had to chase him down. Before, he had some idea they were there. Where did they come from?

“Well done, Cannon,” the police chief said as Julie Cannon entered his office. “Thank you, sir,” she said with a smile, running one hand through her slightly spiked strawberry-blonde hair.
“I have to give most the credit to the team, though,” she said, “they were very cooperative.”
“Hmm, well, that certainly was an…unusual way of going undercover,” he said, leaning back in his chair, looking up at the “walking hallucinogen” in front of him.
“…the FBI is going to come take you away from us someday, Julie. This was a big case,” he said, almost warningly, “I hear they have a telekinetic running field operations in their “special” cases.”
Julie grinned, mischief showing clearly in her eyes, “Don’t worry, sir. If that does happen, I’ll put in a good word for you,” she teased with a quick wink.
“Never know what to expect from you,” he grumbled, “I believe you have a suspect to question?”
“Yes, sir.”

Julie sat cross legged in a metal chair across the table from James, a tape recorder between them.
“You’ve been read your Miranda rights, correct?”“…Yeah.”
“Do you understand those rights?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Having those rights in mind, do you want to talk to me now?”
James said nothing, just staring across the table.
“Mr. Hillshire?” Julie asked, her face as calm as her tone.
“…I won’t tell you anything until my lawyer is here.”
“That’s fine,” Julie said, uncrossing her legs, “Do you know the number?”“Yeah,” he muttered, watching her carefully.
“…What happened to Marty?”
“That’s confidential, Mr. Hillshire, I can’t-”“He was there!” he shouted, slamming a fist down onto the table. Julie’s hand twitched to the cuffs on her hip.
“He was there, and then he just suddenly disappears. What happened?!”“I told you that’s confidential, Mr. Hillshire.”
James grabbed both sides of his head, groaning in frustration.
“…Forget the lawyer.”“Pardon?”“I said forget the lawyer! I’ll tell you whatever you want. Can’t take anymore of this…”
“Are you certain?”“Yes!”
Julie smirked, her expression going back to blank as she turned back to face him.
“Alright, then.”