Shells & Stones

Orange Zinnia Lomograph

Ashlee Craft - Fox 13 News Interview

This is my interview for Fox 13 News. It aired on October 31, 2013 as part of their "What's Right With Tampa Bay" segments.

http://www.myfoxtampabay.com/story/23946275/2013/11/12/young-authors-passion-for-writing

A Lie Cannot Live in the Starless Midnight Poetry Reading Video

Ashlee Craft Featured on Tampa's Fox 13 News!

I have an exciting announcement to make! Fox 13 News in Tampa, Florida has done a segment about me. I will be featured on their "What's Right With Tampa Bay" segment, which will air on the 6:00 news tonight, October 31, 2013.

Thanks!

Yellow Still Life

Warm Poinsettias

Orange Zinnia

Marigold

Autumn Tree

Pie

Be Happy

Parrot

Surgeon Fish

Rainy Grass

Sewing

Doorknob

Fairyland Greenery

Dianthus

Art Poems (Volume 1) - New Book Released!

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Genre: Poetry

Paperback: 58 Pages

wind blowing onwards ever onwards gently pushing soft fluffy clouds into view the breeze is slightly cool in contrast with the warm summer sun / the beginning of summer / rays of sunlight occasionally peeking thru the air amongst the clouds providing hint of light / a summer storm is blowing in rain / rain that will allow the fragrant flowers to bloom / smell the impending petrichor in the distance growing ever nearer / feel the heartbeat of the earth

Art Poems, Volume 1 is a collection of 30 paintings by Ashlee Craft. Every painting is accompanied by an original poem relating to the theme of the painting.

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Manatees - New Book Released!

Manatees by Ashlee Craft

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Genre: Juvenile Non-Fiction / Marine Animals

Series: Wonderful Wildlife (Wonderful Wildlife, Volume 1)

Paperback: 32 Pages

Age Range: 7+

Manatees are large, gentle, animals. They are aquatic, which means they live in the water. Manatees spend most of their time traveling, eating, and resting. Learn all about them in this illustrated and educational book.

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Pink Flower

Convolvulus

Clouds

Yellow Marigolds

White Flower

Lucky Clovers

A Thousand Cranes - Volume 2 - Poetry Book Sample

A Thousand Cranes by Ashlee Craft
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Cranes in the Night


the artist-poet
sitting on the porch steps out back
of the old Victorian house she inhabits
looking out towards the secret garden
where many magical things have happened
& the aroma of blossoming flowers
& the sound of frogs & crickets
& the smell of the cool night air
surrounding her as she looks out towards
the sky
waiting for
her one thousand paper cranes
to return to her again

she knows something wonderful is about to happen


Oh, the Stars

oh you beautiful wonderful things
dancing in the starlight, celestial & celebrated
hallowed moon in the sky million-universes circling
& swimming in the wave pool
twinkle in the sky eyes peering thru from behind a dark curtain
there just for me to look at
all of it there for me
just as it's all there for you & everyone one else
living or lived or ever will live

light & air light & air
pretty thoughts flowing thru my head
in a world filled with books & music & animals
watch the fireworks alight
illuminating the silent night's dusty corridors hidden within
the alleyways mistaken & forgotten
until suddenly being brought to light again
underscored by passages into secret gardens
unrelated to eclectic ecstasies unspoken under moonlight
in puddles reflecting the light all around us like
a million diamonds; the jewelry I'd rather wear
setting alight the flowers tucked gently into my hair
glowing in the sun nurtured by the life around me
like fireworks flying endlessly forever onwards onwards on
setting alight the hopes & dreams inside of us
oh, you wonderful things
oh, the stars

Turning to Face

I've run so far / I've ran I've ran / suddenly creeping / mysterious sounds in the night / like black panthers hiding in jungle trees / stars shining only in darkness / raindrops running down windowpanes / rainbow coming out in the after-rain mist / running down the soaking pavement wearing sopping tennis shoes shoes slapping against the pavement in the pouring pouring pouring rain / rain soaking my skin rain soaking my hair rushing rushing rushing onwards / covered in this cloak of rain heart pounding / I'm running back to where I should be / I'm running back towards what I left behind / it's time to stop running away / it's time to stop running away from it all / it's time to face it

A Beautiful Morning

22 – Sunday – 8:29 a.m.

I walked along in the morning light
the wet grass bathed my feet
I looked down & saw dewdrops each harboring tiny rainbows

he walked along in the went sand
his feet left tiny prints behind
a mockingbird called overhead, & we turned to go home

I saw an earthworm on the sidewalk
struggling to cross it before the sun would soon be overbearing
I picked it up & brought it back home to my garden

I saw a flower trying to bloom but the soil was dry
I brought it a glass of water from inside my house
& I watched the flower grow big & strong & beautiful

I went back inside & ate a nice breakfast
while eating I planned what I would do that day & smiled
today was going to be a beautiful day

A Hundred Thousand Universes

don't you know how wonderful & amazing you are?
With your shining eyes & illuminating smile
with the happy way you go thru life & the way you face it all & stand up when you need to?
with your musical laugh & your beautiful body & the way you make people feel happy too?
with the way you care about everyone & the way everyone loves you back?
with the way you look at each day as an adventure & the way you stop & smell the roses & how you make your own sunshine when you can't find any?
can't you see how amazing & perfect you are
you've got a hundred thousand tiny universe all growing & glowing inside you
a hundred thousand tiny universes

I Think What it Needs

overlying quantity hazy summer evening of holding onto ^ no more holding onto it all ^ the grasps of the dusty hand rails upon the train platform as it jumps on & on & on thru the night wishing on the odyssey of stars / multiple colors of acrylic paint & a jar full of paintbrushes & a spray bottle & cozy piles of blankets & orange checkered cases of wood handled teacups & heart-print ribbons pots of glue & a cup of green tea / snappy solitudes secreted daring & dancing frenetically in gray prison cells made of lies but can be melted & broken out of simply by asking for a candle / a decree of nestling newborn birds never-ending stories writing on leaves recording the histories in the barks of trees & in the supple rippling of riverside waves / working flawlessly to grow the American angelica trees with composted fertilizer & drops of rain collected in metal buckets # drip drop drip drop on & on & on # with their tin can hats & the questions on the table in the forest laid down before the great queen & reborn renewal / nominees of trustees tresses in the sea cabinet depositing grains of sand one by one into the black-hole basin punctuated only by the turning of the world / doves cooing & cheering in the rafters / drifters drifting on rivers on their rafts build of wooden planks / convincing someone else to do the necessary work

What are You Waiting For?

the sun is rising!
what are you waiting for?
the moon is growing over the hill!
what are you waiting for?
the stars are passing by flying by wishing stars!
what are you waiting for?
people are dreaming new dreams!
what are you waiting for?
the world is turning, the day is dawning &
night is coming to a close
what are you waiting for?
you've waited so long
you've waited & waited for things to change
or to find motivation
but still
what are you waiting for?

well
the time has come to
stop WAITING
& start
DOING
start
BEING
start LOVING
start
//// Living \\\\

Happened to Be There

alcoves aloof in their mysteries, jealous of secret tunnels underground where drunked sailors sing their sea-tunes & stampede thru corridors of broken down glass doors & old abandoned lemonade stands / gaining ground worried for world-renowned offers to authors writing constantly upon old typewriters trying to create random springs of genius hitting & missing mischievous exploding nebulas in ocean-eyed skies tramped upon by silver slits in gold showing beneath it, the gold's true worth / questioning everything you see & wondering where you went wrong or if you went right, why you're on the road you're on & where you're even heading at all / frantically wandering about darkened roads at night questioning questioning some more boxcars clicking along tracks & rivers rushing rushing rushing, rustling past you & night owls flying & hooting overhead, frogs calling to each other in the swamp / & amongst the cacophony & chaos & jarring discord
answers

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Little Bird - Poetry Book Trailer

A Thousand Cranes - Volume 2 - New Poetry Book Released

A Thousand Cranes by Ashlee Craft

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Kindle eBook

Genre: Poetry
Paperback Length: 200 pages


the artist-poet
sitting on the porch steps out back
of the old Victorian house she inhabits
looking out towards the secret garden
where many magical things have happened
& the aroma of blossoming flowers
& the sound of frogs & crickets
& the smell of the cool night air
surrounding her as she looks out towards
the sky
waiting for
her one thousand paper cranes
to return to her again

she knows something wonderful is about to happen


A Thousand Cranes - Volume 2 is a collection of 100 poems that will inspire you & brighten your life.



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Summer Poetry Art Book Sample

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On the Beach

emerging from the car arms filled with floats towels toys & sunscreen / rushing across the sandy pavement & towards the sturdy wooden boardwalk where a blue tongued lizard suns itself on the railing / the sound of laughing & yelling blowing with the warm humid summer air & the smell of salt thick in the air & the sounds of the waves crashing in the near distance & the warm sun beating down upon your skin & reminding everyone of their childhood

the ocean approaches & you can see the shapes of surfers & boaters & swimmers rushing across the waters & the beauty of the crystal clear blue waters reflecting the brilliant hues of the cloudless sky / a lifeguard sits in a tower keeping a careful watchful eye upon everyone & takes a sip of water from a blue canteen that hangs on the chair

you take off your shoes & you feet sink down slightly into the warm sacred sand & you feel it creeping between your toes & warming your feet / the soft warm roughness of the sand caressing you as you walk across the hills & mounds & mountains of sand towards the water / you can hardly contain your excitement to get to the water so you rush ahead, your arms pinning your towel & pail to your sides

as you dance in the sand you hear the white-capped waves gently washing against the shore & suddenly you look down & see the perfect place to sit

“over here!” you yell as your family follow behind you, so much slower to get here than you / they smile at you & you grin back, but you're suddenly distracted by the shape of a purple shell at your feet

“I found one!” you shout as they reach you / immediately you sit down in the warm sun & begin / you smell the warm scent of the sunscreen you applied earlier & it smells like coconuts / you begin digging a small hole in the sand with your hands & you plan on making this hole into a pool which you'll fill with water later / finally your family sits down & you grab out your pail & begin piling wet sand from by the ocean's edge into the pail & then dumping over the bucket & decorating the castle with shells / carving out the doors & windows then pretending your hand is a person & the castle is their home

finally it's time to go swimming so you take your clothes off revealing your bathing suit beneath & you slather sunscreen on & you rush towards the water, yelling & waving your arms / in pure utter joy / splashing into the cool salty waves that rush & gush rush rush gushing around your toes wiggling in the sand / you see a seashell underwater & you bend down to pick it up / a wave washes over your head soaking your face as you do / sputtering & shaking the salt water from your face / but you continue out a little ways into the water so that it's touching your chest / you stand here splashing & walking along in the ocean & putting your face in the water looking thru goggles at the sea floor pretending you're a submarine captain & then a famous diver hunting for pearls on the sea floor / the sun is hot above you but the water is so peaceful & calm & cool, gently carrying you with it & you smile as the sun glints off the water / your arms & legs & fingers & toes enjoying the salty coolness of the water & the sand beneath your feet where you feel broken bits of shells & the ancient sand

finally it's time for lunch & you emerge from the water, happy & your skin's all wrinkly from the water but the sun feels so nice as you emerge dripping wet your feet now covered with dry dusty sand / you approach the checkered picnic blanket & plop down, cleaning the sand & salt from your hands before grabbing a cheese sandwich from the woven basket & biting into the soft bread / you eat your sandwich & when you're done you go over to the sand & build a whole sand castle village / suddenly you remember the pit you were digging earlier & you dig it a little deeper then fill your bucket up with water & make a bunch of trips to the water back to your hole trying to fill it up with water / but the water just soaks in / how about building it closer to the water someone suggests / so you head near the water & dig another pit, sand getting caught beneath your nails as you dig dig dig / sun warming your back skin glowing in the light / suddenly a bit of water comes thru the bottom of your pit & begins filling it a little / you sit in this miniature pool smiling feeling the warm water collecting around you / just then a huge cool wave washes over the shore, filling your hole & washing the sand from your legs / you laugh & dig your hole a little bigger then sit back & relax in the little pool you've made, making a sand castle alongside of it & trying to build a barrier wall to keep the waves from getting in / perfect happiness

eventually it becomes time to go home / everyone reluctantly gathering up their belongings & buckets & towels & baskets & heading towards the car / your tanned skin glows warmly in the sun as you walk across the boardwalk / you reach the parking lot, putting your flip flops back on / you spread a towel on the back seat of the car & sit down in your seat, feeling the quiet peaceful happiness that only enters one's soul after a day on the beach

 

Under the Stars

underneath the stars lying on our backs on a blanket laid out in the

damp grass gazing up at the sky & the moon

& stars twinkling gently in the still beauty

& peace of the night

& everything is absolutely perfect as we make up stories about the stars & what they mean & how they came to take their places in the sky

underneath the stars enjoying the beauty of the moment

as the crickets & frogs chirp & sing in the background

& the warm beautiful humid sacred air around us

& comforting cloak of the darkness

& us sharing our secrets & our hopes & fears & dreams & talking about our lives & moving onwards & what we plan to do tomorrow & the next day & next year

underneath the stars soaking in what it means to be alive

grinning & then sitting in silence & speaking without works

& the stars keep watch over us thru the darkness

& the sun is only waiting a little while away

& looking at all of you who mean so much to me

I know that I could never find a more perfect place to be & I know I could never find nicer friends or a more perfect place than this clearing under the stars

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The Adventures of Sally the Kiwi Sample

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It was a hot and sunny day, the type of day where the trees and flowers droop and it's so warm that even the birds are silent.
Sally, who was a kiwi bird, was standing in her yard with her little brother James and her best friend Denny, both of which were also kiwi birds. Although their parents had told them it was a nice day to go play outside, none of the kiwis thought so. It was summer break, and although summer should have been a time when everything was fun and anything was possible, this summer was different.
It was a month into their summer break and none of the friends had ever been more bored in their lives. In fact, sometimes Sally thought they would be having more fun if they were at school. At least when they were at school there was always something to do. Sure, summer break had started out being fun. The friends had raced around in the sprinklers, gone swimming, ate ice cream, played baseball, read books, and played in Sally's yard until dark. Eventually, they had already done everything fun you can do in the summer and were now bored.
It was on this especially hot day that Sally, James, and Denny were sitting in Sally's yard, trying to decide what to do.
“We could go eat ice cream again.” Denny suggested half-heartedly.
Sally and James shook their heads.
“I'm tired of eating ice cream.” James said.
Sally thought about every type of summer activity and tried to find something that they hadn't already done yet. Still, no matter how hard she thought about this, she couldn't think of anything.
Sally sighed. It seemed like their summer would be wasted sitting in the hot sun and doing nothing.
James said,
“It's too hot in the sun. I'm going to sit under that bush over there.”
“Okay.” Sally replied.
James walked away, heading for the shady bush that grew in the corner of the yard.
Denny looked at Sally and said,
“What do you think we should do today? I'm bored of being bored, but at the same time, I'm too bored to do anything.”
“I'm too bored to think.” Sally agreed.
Suddenly, James came running back over towards Sally and Denny and began jumping up and down with excitement.
“Guess what! Guess what!” He exclaimed.
Sally said,
“What is it?” She assumed that James had probably just found a worm or something.
James shouted,
“I found a treasure map! A treasure map!”
Excitement filled Sally and Denny. A treasure map?
“Where?” Denny asked.
“Under the bush!”

Sally, Denny, and James hurried over to the bush in the corner of the yard. Sure enough, under the thick green branches, sat a piece of old looking paper.
James said,
“I was digging by the base of the bush, hoping to find bugs, and suddenly I came across a piece of paper! I opened it up and it has a map on it!”
Sally picked up the piece of paper and opened it. The paper was yellow and crinkled, and on its surface was a series of lines, blobs that represented trees and rivers, and a large red “X”.
Sally and Denny started jumping around too. They couldn't believe that they had actually found a real treasure map!

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The Adventures of Sally the Kiwi

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Genre: Juvenile Fiction

Subjects: Kiwis, kiwi birds, endangered animals, adventure, treasure hunt, buried treasure

Age Range: 6 - 10

Paperback: 28 Pages

It's the middle of summer break and three kiwi birds - Sally, her best friend Denny, and her little brother James - are bored. When James finds a treasure map under a bush in the backyard, the three friends decide to follow the map and see where it leads. Will the kiwis find what they're looking for?

Dark Hours Sample Chapter

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April 25, 12:04 a.m.

It was just after midnight. The hallways of The Singing Bird apartment complex were nearly empty, and a deep silence filled the walls.

Suddenly, a scream rang out through one of the rooms in the nearly-vacant apartment building.

This scream was followed by an eerie silence, the sinister type of silence which leaves you both wondering and fearing what has just occurred.

–

Old Ms. Waters, who owned the building and had lived in it for the past thirty years, was down in her kitchen on the bottom floor of the apartment in her kitchen adding some milk to her coffee.

The scream echoed within her walls, shattering the silence.

She dropped her coffee spoon on the floor. It clattered loudly, piercing through the violent silence that followed the scream.

The nine tenants who lived in the building were generally quiet, but every once in a while, a homeless person or young hoodlum would enter the building and cause trouble. A few years ago, a violent fistfight had broken out in the hallway, a fight which resulted in the police being called in, and ten years back, a string of robberies had occurred. Still, nothing like this had ever occurred.

Ms. Waters considered phoning her son, who was 30 years old and lived down the hallway from her. He wasn’t married yet, but Ms. Waters hoped that would soon change. It had always been her hope that her son would marry and have children. Ms. Waters, who was in her early sixties, often dreamt about having grandchildren. She could see herself taking her grandchildren to the circus and the pool and baking cookies with them in the afternoon. Her son Matthew had been in the military for a couple of years and had won many metals, something which made Ms. Waters very proud. When neighbors would come over to her apartment, she'd often relay the story of how her son had saved many fellow soldiers with his quick thinking. Unfortunately, his experience in the war had left him with PSTD and left him with a permanently nervous disposition.

Matthew had many girlfriends throughout the years, but his relationships never lasted more than a few months, with only three exceptions.

Tonight, he was on a date with a woman named Sarah Thorton, who Ms. Waters hadn’t got a chance to meet but Matthew had told her all about. They were going to a local restaurant called The Flying Fish, a quaint little place situated in the downtown.

At this point, Ms. Waters decided to call her son, and she dialed in the number, desperately hoping that he'd pick it up. She didn't want to be alone in the building. If someone had been attacked, their assailant might be coming for her next.

She reached her son's voice mail.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of her front door open, and a moment later, close.

Terror-stricken, she was paralyzed for a moment, and something horrible occurred to her. Someone was in her apartment.

She finally found the courage to walk into her living room.

There was no one there.

Ms. Waters reached for her cell phone and shakily dialed 911.

–

The apartment complex, called The Singing Bird, but colloquially referred to as Stifled Bird, would be vacated and torn down in two weeks due to its age and lack of funds to keep it properly maintained. A major property company had bought the land to build a factory on it. Anyone who still remained in the complex would have to move somewhere else, and the property company hoped that these residents would move to one of the fancier and higher priced complexes that they owned.

Singing Bird was an old brick apartment complex with fire escape platforms and ladders covering the sides. The whole complex was enclosed, and you had to enter the front door of the building to get to the hallways which led past each apartment. It was relatively secure, except for the fact that many of the ladders on the fire escape were down, so it would be easy for someone to climb up them and access the apartments.

When the Singing Bird Apartment Complex was built, the town was reasonably high-class, but as fifty years came and went, crime from the surrounding areas began to seep in, and soon surrounded the entire building. Many tenants moved out because they didn’t feel secure, and some of the gossipers that used to live in the building had speculated that someone was running a meth lab in one of the rooms. Because nobody except the gossipers felt this way, nobody cared to investigate this further. Regardless whether this fact was true or not, no one in the building felt safe.

Families with children and higher-income residents moved out. Because of this, the value of the building went down, causing the middle class to move out as well. The only people who remained there were those who had little money or had lived there a long time and didn't care to move. As desperate times called for desperate measures, ready or not, these remaining tenants would have to move out at the end of the two-week period remaining. The 150-unit apartment complex only contained nine tenants now, not including the owner of the building and her son.

–

Grace Roe lived in apartment #78. After a long night out spent dancing at local clubs, as she often did, she was tired and hungry. Although she was in her early sixties, she still was filled with a vigor and energy often unmatched by people half her age. When she told people her age, they were surprised to hear that she was fifteen or twenty years older than they thought she was.

Grace's feet hurt. She blamed it on her new high heels, which were covered in blue glitter. They were probably too tall for someone her age to be wearing, but she didn't care. She did things her own way, wore what she wanted to, did what she wanted to, and didn't care what others thought of this. She wasn't the type to follow the crowd, and she'd always prided herself in this independence.

When she was a teenager, she'd gone against the current fashions and stereotypes and done her own thing, creating her own fashion from the things she loved. When her classmates were trying to impress their crushes, Grace had been more concerned with her education. When her classmates were busy discussing what they'd wear to prom, Grace was sitting quietly in the corner reading Shakespeare. When her peers went to college, graduated, and started their families, Grace was busy working at a florist shop, dancing every chance she got, and traveling the world.

At the time, when she'd decided that she would live the way she wanted to, she was somewhat concerned that others would find her strange, or that she was making a mistake. Perhaps they were right in following the crowd, the time-tested formula that many went for. But now as she looked back, Grace was more and more thankful with each passing day that she'd chosen to forge her own path. This sense of gratitude increased each time she heard her friends complaining about what they wish they had done when they were younger, richer, or more beautiful. When Grace looked back on her life, she had no regrets whatsoever.

As soon as Grace entered her apartment, she removed the painful shoes and slung them to the side. It was silent in her apartment – too silent – so she decided to put on some classical music.

Grace walked barefoot across the cool linoleum of the apartment, noticing just how good it felt on her sore feet. She flexed her toes against the floor, massaging them from their stiffness. When she entered her kitchen and headed for her tiny pantry, she removed a box of fettuccine. Smiling with the afterglow of her night out, she filled a pot with water and set it on the stove.

At that moment, a scream rang out across the silence, stopping her in her tracks.

Heart pounding, she was unsure of what to do. She'd never heard a scream so terrible in her life, yet she didn't want to worry the cops about something insignificant. When she considered how horrible, how desperate the scream sounded, she decided to call the police, realizing it was better to report it and find out that it was nothing than not. If the scream was relevant and she didn't call, someone could be harmed worse than they already were, and Grace would be aware of the fact that her call could have saved this person.

She rushed towards the phone and dialed 911. Grace told them what she'd heard, and they told her they'd be sending someone to check it out, saying that they'd received several similar calls already. It was around this point that Grace began panicking. What if whoever had killed someone – that was Grace's biggest fear regarding what had happened – was coming for her?

She hurried into her kitchen, opening the knife drawer and removing the largest, most dangerous looking blade. Heart pounding quickly, she proceeded to stand in her apartment near the front floor, waiting for either the arrival of the police or of the murderer.

–

Mr. Klaus had awoken from a deep sleep. Immediately, he noticed a sharp pain in his back and sighed. His back occasionally pained him overnight. It was about time him and his wife got a new mattress, but that would have to wait until after they moved from the apartment complex. Carefully, he moved his wife's hand off of his shoulder. She opened her eyes slowly.

“Where are we?” She asked him quietly.

He smiled sadly at her.

Dementia. She had dementia and usually couldn't remember very much about what happened. She was liable to say strange or incoherent things, and this pained Mr. Klaus greatly. Every time she forgot something, he felt an incredibly pity filling him, a pity which was mixed with great affection. He loved his wife more dearly with every day, and would do anything to make her happy.

“We're at our apartment.” He told her gently, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and grunting when his back pained him again.

They'd lived at this apartment for 15 years, ever since they'd immigrated from Germany to the United States. It made Karl Klaus sad to think that after all this time, they'd have to move. His wife wasn't always sure of where they were, even after their lengthy stay here, and he hated the fact that she'd have to get used to a new place all over again. They had a comfortable life at the Singing Bird, and as they were both retired now, Mr. Klaus feared what the future would bring for him and his wife. They had picked out a small one-story house nearby, and when they could stay in the apartment complex no longer, they would move there.

Carefully, Mr. Klaus got up to go to the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” Mrs. Klaus called softly.

“To the bathroom. I've got to take a painkiller.” He replied.

He made it to the bathroom and filled the glass near the sink with water, reaching for the bottle of painkillers on the counter.

A minute later, a scream shattered the peace of night.

Adrenaline rushed through him, followed immediately by fear.

What if something had happened to his wife?

He rushed from the bathroom and he froze.

Mrs. Klaus was nowhere to be seen, and the front door of his apartment was handing wide open.

His breath caught in his throat.

Mr. Klaus rushed into the hallway, rushing barefoot down the hallways, searching frantically for his lost wife. She couldn't walk that fast, but if she evaded him, she could go downstairs, leave the apartment, and go out into the street. Karl didn't even want to think about what could happen to her if she got outside...

“Emily!” He called. “Emily!”

After a few minutes of searching, he finally found his wife, emerging confusedly from a room that had been apparently left unlocked.

“Emily!” He cried with relief upon seeing her.

She rushed into his arms, crying and repeating his name.

“Did you scream?” He asked her.

She shook her head.

“They're coming for you.” She said softly, her eyes wide with fear.

“Let's get you back home. I've got to call the police.”

Together, they headed back to the safety of their apartment.

–

In the darkness, Jenny Sampson made her way over towards the fire escape. The night around her was silent, and the only sound she could hear was her own breathing and her footsteps upon the dried grass. Ever since the lock on her door had suddenly broken a week ago, the fire escape had been her means of getting into her apartment. While she understood it was risky to leave her fire escape window unlocked, she was unable to afford a locksmith, and therefore had to make the best of her situation.

Jenny locked her bike to the metal of the fire escape, balancing the five pound bag of cat food on her leg as she did so.

There was very little light around, the only illumination coming from the moonlight above. It was a full moon, luckily, but it was still almost too dim for her to lock the bicycle.

“Damn.” She cursed quietly, fumbling with the lock.

She would have gone and bought the cat food earlier, had she not been teaching a ballet lesson that had gone on until seven-thirty and after that, had to practice at the studio for the upcoming ballet she would be dancing in. By the time she was finished, it was ten thirty at night. She then had to ride her bicycle back to her apartment, change clothing, and go out again to buy food for her cat.

The young blonde dancer locked her bike up and began climbing the fire escape, carrying the cat food under one arm, and her bicycle helmet under the other.

Halfway up the stairs, she heard a muffled scream ringing from within the apartment complex.

She froze, her heart skipping a beat.

Her mind sprang to the conclusion that someone had just been killed. She was aware that she could be dramatic at times and assume the worst, but this time, she was sure she was right.

Should she go up or down? If she went up to her apartment, the attacker of whoever screamed could possibly be in her apartment. If she remained on the fire escape, she could still be harmed. What if the murderer climbed out onto the fire escape to get away? What if there were others on the ground, or on the fire escape?

She decided to take her chances and get back to her apartment as quickly as possible. Scrambling quicker than before, she climbed onto the third landing of the fire escape and shoved her window open. She clambered in and locked the window behind her, heart pounding in her throat.

Swiftly, she made sure that all of her doors and windows were locked, then proceeded to call the police.

The phone rang through to the local emergency department.

“911, what is the nature of the emergency?” The dispatcher had asked.

“Police.” Jenny said in a choked voice. “Someone just screamed so terribly in the apartment complex where I live. It sounded like someone was being killed.”

–

Travis Harrison had been outside, speaking to his beautiful girlfriend, whom he'd just been speaking to. This encounter left him feeling light and happy. Every time he spoke to Hannah, he loved her more and more. Just when he thought he loved her as much as anyone possibly could, he found himself falling even deeper and deeper in love. Often times, he hardly felt like it was real at all, and he couldn't believe that something like this was really happening to him. To him, true love had always been a figment of fiction, but after he met Hannah, everything changed.

He'd met her at a party three years ago, when both of them were only twenty-two. She'd been dancing alone off to the side, and Travis had watched her from across the room. When he saw her face, something he'd never felt before came over him, and he suddenly believed that love at first sight was real.

Travis had approached Hannah. The two of them had flirted, and by the end of the night, they'd made plans to go out to the movies the next night.

There was and always had been a certain rebelliousness in their relationship, something that made everything they did seem even more romantic. Hannah's parents didn't approve of Travis. In their opinion, he was just a poor mechanic with big dreams. Travis wanted nothing more than to own his own mechanic shop, and to Hannah's practical nine-to-five parents, this didn't seem like a reliable thing to believe in.

But Hannah believed in it. She believed in Travis with all of her heart, a heart which was filled with utter affection for the kind and gentle Travis. Although Travis was tall, broad, and muscular, he was the type of person who always stood up for those weaker than him, and he used his strength to help others. Once, he'd been heading back to his apartment late at night, and he'd seen some men laughing and dangling a tiny, helpless kitten in front of their giant dog's snapping jaws. Without hesitation, Travis had approached the men and ordered they give him the kitten immediately. When the men saw the menacing look on Travis' face and realized that if they didn't comply, it would be painful for them, they handed the kitten to Travis and hurried off.

Travis was allergic to cats and couldn't keep it himself, but he'd given the tiny kitten to Hannah. She nursed the female kitten back to health and named her Buttons, and had cared for the cat ever since.

Now, Travis stood and watched Hannah get back into her car. As she drove off, they waved at each other, and when she was out of sight, Travis went back inside.

He climbed the stairs slowly, but with a bounce in his step. He couldn't wipe the grin from his face as he walked. Someday soon, he was going to ask Hannah to marry him. He knew she loved him just as much as he loved her, and was sure she'd say yes to his proposal.

He was on the second floor when he heard it.

A scream. The most horrible scream that Travis had ever heard.

Travis froze. Immediately concerned for whoever had screamed, he rushed forward. Mentally calculating that the scream had rushed to the fifth floor, he ran past his own apartment on the fourth and up the stairs. He clenched his fists, prepared to take on any assailant and help whoever was in trouble.

When he reached the fourth floor, he found nothing. The place was utterly silent. There was nothing around, no sign that anything had occurred.

But despite the false calmness of the scene, Travis knew what he'd heard, and he knew that something was wrong. With that, he hurried back to his apartment, dialing 911 as he did so.

–

Nina Wentz, who lived in apartment #114, was flaming mad. Her husband – that good for nothing loser who she still lived with for some reason – clearly was cheating on her. Again. It had happened before, quite a while ago, and she'd forgiven him then. Why? Maybe it was because he had vowed he'd never cheat again. Either way, she certainly wasn't going to forgive him again. Right now, he was most likely drunk and making out with some random chick he'd just met at the bar.

She hated him.

Flinging her belongings into her suitcase, she rushed around the apartment, making sure to get everything that she needed. She didn't want to see Don ever again after she left him tonight, except when she brought the divorce papers to him so he could add his signature. Maybe she could just mail the papers to him. That would probably be more effective.

She shook her head and sighed as she shoved her makeup bag in amongst her belongings. Why did she always fall for the wrong men? She'd fallen in love with several others like Don before, and each time she vowed she wouldn't do it again. When she met Don, she thought everything would be different. She thought that she'd finally found someone who would be loyal to her, someone she could always trust and depend upon. He'd seemed so caring when she'd met him, and he'd once discussed with her how much it angered him when his friends cheated on their girls. They had gotten married less than a year ago. Nina had thought she was in love. She thought she'd found “the one”.

But no. She hadn't. Don hadn't been that knight in shining armor, that true love that she'd dreamed about finding. He'd just been another one of those men who drew her in with a smile and then showed her that they never cared for her at all.

At this moment, she heard a scream. Thinking little of it, she continued filling her suitcase. It was probably just some teens messing around or trying to scare each other in the empty and sinister looking hallways of the apartment. Either way, she was too angry to care.

All she cared about was getting as far away her pathetic excuse for a husband as soon as she could.

–

Henry Jackson's whole body hurt – especially his mind. After all that had happened to him in the past few days, he didn't want to think.

Earlier that evening, his girlfriend Wanda Richards had broken up with him.

He thought they'd had something going. He thought that she'd be the one, the one that he'd marry. He could see all of it in his head. He could picture himself holding her hand and walking down the aisle with her, could see them buying a house together and raising a family.

Yet the image replayed in his head repeatedly, the image of her softly saying,

“It's over, Henry. I've got someone else – someone that I love – who wants to propose to me tonight. It's time we both moved on.” His mind ached with the pain of it all.

Flipping through the channels on his television, he became more agitated with the realization that nearly all of them had something to do with romance, the last thing he wanted to think about at the time.

How could Wanda have let him get his hopes up? Hadn't they spoken about spending the rest of their lives together? Hadn't she assured him that she'd always love him?

And yet, her words hadn't stopped her from doing what she'd done. Her words apparently meant nothing to her.

Henry continued flipping though the channels angrily, eventually finding a reality show . He turned up the volume all the way, as if this was the only way he could drown out his pain.

Henry sat like that for a while, his mind numb and replaying through each memory he made with Wanda.

He was only interrupted when the police pounded loudly on the door, demanding that he opened it.

Fear filling him, he made his way across his messy apartment.

When he answered the door, he saw several police officers standing out their and asked,

“Is there a problem, officers?”

“Many residents here have heard a scream. Did you hear it?”

“No.” Henry said. “I didn't.”

–

Francis Quinn sat inside his apartment, listening to a meditation CD and sitting in the middle of the floor, calming his mind.

Breathe out, breathe in.

Breathe out, breathe in.

His mantra. The only thing which would calm him. He focused only on his breathing and the slow beating of his heart, losing himself in the calmness surrounding him.

And at this moment, he desperately needed to calm down.

Breathe out, breathe in.

Breathe out, breathe in.

His silence was shattered.

A scream pierced though the air, destroying Francis' silence.

Everything froze.

He wailed something incomprehensible and flung himself to the ground.

It all came rushing back to him. Every single thing. His mind was reeling, and the images filled his head once more.

His breath caught in his throat. Feeling as though his world were crashing around, he could do nothing but sit there, immobilized by his fear. Francis' heart pounded wildly in his chest, and he was sure he was going to die.

A few minutes later, the feeling passed, yet the thoughts and sorrow still bombarded him.

Still panicking, it occurred to him that he should call the police. His hands shaking terribly, he managed to coherently call the police, explaining to them what he had heard. When he hung up, he broke down once more.

It was all happening.

It was all happening again.

–

Within ten minutes of the scream, the police showed up. The lights from two or three police cars danced across Ms. Waters' kitchen.

She stood up, still shaking violently. She heard the police enter the apartment complex’s front door. Knowing that she’d be safe now, she fled from her apartment, making a beeline for the front hallway, where the police were standing. After briefly explaining what she'd heard to them, an officer remained downstairs to check her apartment for intruders.

The remaining five police officers walked up the creaking stairs slowly as they checked in each vacant apartment room using the keys Ms. Waters had given them. Ms. Waters had said she estimated the scream came from the fourth or fifth floor, the floors where all but one of the residents lived.

While three of the officers checked the empty rooms on the forth and fifth floors, the other two went and knocked on the apartment doors to speak to the residents. All except one resident admitted to hearing the scream.

The apartments contained no evidence of violence or struggle.

The only exception to this was Apartment #90, where the officers found a small pool of fresh blood.

That was when they called in Detective Davies.

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