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A Hero Named "LOVELY"!

A Piece by James D, Hogan III

A Hero Named LOVELY!

Part 1 – The Pass Out Scene!

I was lying there – cold, on the ground. I was asking myself what I did to get here. “Maybe this is why they say that women should stay in the kitchen”, I said to myself. That thing was huge. I knew I should have run, but I had no control over that. I guess I just wanted to prove everyone wrong in the first place. I suppose I wanted to let everyone know that I wasn’t just some scrawny little girl from up-town California.
I was content for the most part. I was just in a lot of pain. I could feel myself slipping, slipping right into a coma. I was dying, and I knew it. So I asked myself one more time; “Why did I let myself come this far?” So I close my eyes, and I recap.

Part 2 – Skinny, Scrawny, What’s the Difference?

Ever since I was a little girl – I’ve been skinny. Like, skinnier than every other girl I knew. My mom used to joke about how I never had baby fat. It was funny when she did it though. She and I had fun. She was all I had. My father had abandoned us so I never had much of a male figure in my life besides my little brother who was more than enough stink than I could handle. He was always talking to me about the things that I was doing wrong, just to get back at me for the things that he was doing wrong. But I loved him even still. He wasn’t a bad kid, he was just a goof.
Even still, as a little-one the other kids in school had a habit of telling me that I wasn’t good enough to really fit in anywhere. The emo kids didn’t want me around because they thought I was preppy, the preppy kids didn’t like me because they thought I was emo, and the cheerleaders just didn’t like me for whatever reason. I didn’t really care about them (the cheerleaders I mean), they just seemed a bit unintelligent. Not to speak ill of the cheerleaders, I just didn’t think I fit in there even though I wasn’t trying to be picky.
“Look at her, she‘s so skinny.” I mocked them after they would whisper it to each other, thinking I didn’t know what they were saying. It almost always happened in the locker rooms before and after my gym hour. And it always ended with me slamming my locker door after everyone left. I didn’t do anything to anyone, so I didn’t understand why they were bothering me. Honestly, I’d rather have everyone leave me alone and just stop talking to me completely than to keep dealing with these ridicules people.

Part 3 – The Book!

Each day I brought my favorite book with me and I read during the bus ride to school, the bus ride home, and during my lunch hour. “Lovely”, was the title of the book, and the name of the girl in the story – and I really admired the girl in the story. She was passionate about finding her place in society even when everyone picked on her. But, of course, as with many things there is a second aspect to my liking that book. I won’t admit this to too many people, but the last time I seen my dad; he gave me that book. I don’t know if he really wanted to buy it for me, but I’d been asking for it a lot and he’d managed to show up during one of my birth days to give it to me. It was impressive to me so I took it as a gesture of love. But that was the last time I seen him.
I’d read the book several times since that birth day, honestly, I just love the story line. The problem was that the other students in my lunch hour knew that I read that story like I did. So, like the imbeciles they were, they decided to make fun of it. “Wow! I wish I had something to do that was that interesting!” Some girl shouted from across the room. She was looking right at me when she said it. Plus, she was new here, a freshmen, and she was getting initiated into the cheerleader pack. The insult was meaningless; and completely idiotic to be perfectly honest. Even still it had been building up throughout the day. Truthfully, it had started to get to me. And, as usual, we were in the locker room by the end of the day and they picked a great time to tell the “new girl” to proverbially “have-at-it”.
I was trying my best to ignore her, but I just couldn’t. I didn’t mean to, but I started tearing up. I started crying to myself and noticeably-so. Even still, on top of that I was embarrassed by the fact that I was crying in front of them like that so I started crying even harder. It took everything I had not to run out of that locker room that day. So I, with my dignity intact, got all of the things in my locker and walked out, with my head down; like a dog does when it’s been beaten in a fight.
But I was home when I started to calm down. I reached into my book bag like I was trying to punch something, seeing as how I really wanted to punch something; and I started to read. “Lovely, why can’t I be like Lovely”? I shouted, not knowing how loud I was.
My mother, being as caring as she is, ran into my room asking me what was wrong. I could hear my brother walking slowly toward my room only to stand right outside and listen-in on what was being said. “Mom, I hate school!” I shouted at her. I never yelled at my mom but I did that day, and I could see it in her eyes that it was hurting her. I don’t know why I thought it would be best for me to run and get away but that’s what I immediately did. I glanced at my brother right as I went by and noticed him, just briefly, with a look of worry on my face. I actually wanted to comfort him, but I kept going. I had to get away, if I didn’t I was surely going to snap.

Part 4 – A Night on my Own!

I ran until I got to the woods. Well, not to say that was very far “but” regardless I ran until I got to the woods and then I slowed down. I kept asking myself what was so wrong with me. I just couldn’t figure it out. A few minutes into walking in the dark I just threw myself into the dirt. I didn’t care anymore; about anything. Or at least I thought I didn’t. I kept looking up at the moon. I remember it just drawing me in (like it was pulling on me). It was weird. I felt sleepy. I assumed it was the depression. Everything started to calm down for me. I could even feel my heart beating. A very silent – “Boom… Boom… Boom”, sound echoed quietly in my chest.
But just as I was calming down, I rushed to open my eyes when I stopped breathing. Chocking, gasping for air I couldn’t inhale what so ever. That was the first time I ever felt like I was about to die. I was trying to scream but I couldn’t even do that. To the west of me there was a pond. A dirty, mucky, filthy looking pond; but now wasn’t the time to be picky. I rushed over as fast as my oxygen deprived legs would carry me. Eventually I tripped and started to do some kind of walking crawl towards the final inches of this small water bed. “Huh!” (As if to strongly inhale) Was the noise I could’ve been heard making that night after I saw my bluish gray hair, my dark red eyes and my newly torn clothes in my reflection.
Although, I could not begin to describe the pain that came about from my back, right around the time I realized that I wasn’t breathing but I was still standing strong. That intense shock to my spine was causing me to scream louder than I’d ever screamed before. At that point in this strange moment I had truly contemplated the positives behind death compared to the pain in my spine. I tried scratching at it in the hopes that maybe something was biting me and it would come off if I just scratched at it. I began to notice blood dripping from my shoulders and I could feel it oozing down my legs. Of course, now I was afraid. And finally, I released one final scream of pain and in a swift moment wings sprouted from just beneath my shoulders. They were dark, darker than anything I had ever seen. They were big, bigger than my entire body. And they were sharp, sharper than any knife I’d ever come across. I tried to inhale again, but I did not need air, and the pain was going away.

Part 5 – Dinner Was Me!

Lovely, that’s how I felt, Lovely. A sickened grin seemed to want to cling to my face. I felt different. I was content with everything and everyone. I loved all things, but I wanted more to destroy than I’d ever felt like destroying in my entire life. I wanted nothing more than to make a Jackson Pollock Painting of my entire world. But yet, I wanted everyone to love and be happy. I didn’t understand these mixed emotions. It was like I was still myself, but there was someone, or rather something sitting in my head slowly saying – “Please let me out.” And “it” wanted everything dead.
A sensation came over me and that’s when my wings took over. The tiniest movement of my bio-engineered flying apparatus would send me into a state of euphoria. I let myself be taken away by the pleasure of flight and I knew that I was in control but this thing sitting in my head also had a say in the path that I moved towards, and honestly – I did not mind it.
But now, I could smell and this sent smelled horribly. Some type of sent from some sort of creature came into my nose and stayed there until I ran into it. Not literally of course. As I flew low into the woods I came across a kind of creature resembling a bear and I marveled at it. It had long red hair and a body that one would match with Hercules himself.
“Pull its tale!” That thing inside my head was shouting to me, over and over again. I grabbed my head to try and get it to stop but it wouldn’t listen I could not control it and it was sending that chemical into my body, that feeling that was paralyzing my senses with bombardments of pleasure and security.
My vision went into a daze and all I could see were the swift motions of this beast swinging its’ tale at me like it was trying to sever me into two separate pieces. I was fighting back, but it wasn’t my body to use at the time. That thing kept repeating – “Pull it‘s tale!”
And I stopped. I could see myself moving for this creature’s tale, but I couldn’t hear anything. I saw myself grab and rip this things tale from its’ very back and in the same motion I was back-handed, or rather back-clawed into a tree about 40 feet in the opposing direction.
Before I passed out, I saw it. I had seen it fall to the ground. I seen its’ hands turn to dust, and its hair to earth, and its eyes to dew. Had I not been so intoxicated by my own pleasure, I would have had some kind of remorse for this poor, thing. And then, my eyes close once more. Falling asleep I believed myself to be dying, only that I would just be asking myself what led me to this point.

Part 6 – A lovely way to end the story!

I woke up that morning wanting to believe that everything was a dream. In any case however, it was not. I opened my eyes again. And to my surprise I was lying on the ground where I had passed out the night before. My clothes were torn. But everything else went back to its original form. I wasn’t in any pain but I felt like I’d slept outside for a night. I had made my way back home where I’d noticed several police cars quickly leaving my mother’s driveway. I had been caught by her as I was walking out of the woods with my head up and my body tall. She and my brother ran to me and tackled me. It didn’t hurt. My mother started shouting questions at me. I didn’t have the energy to answer them. I felt drained. I asked to take a shower and to get dropped off at school. My brother and mother had a shocked expression on their faces. “Um, yes of course baby, anything you want.” My mother calmly assured to me.
In no rush, I took my shower and got dressed. My book was still sitting on my bed and I reached to get it. But today I felt different, I felt like I didn’t need it today; like I had read it for the last time.
Mother dropped me off and I thanked her after doing-so. She waited until I got next to her window and said – “Please tell me what happened when you feel better sweaty. Okay?” I looked back at her and smiled – “Yes, mom, I will soon.” My mom smiled back, much to my surprise and drove off.
The school day was very quiet for the most part. I answered a few questions in some of my classes, and pretty soon it was the end of gym and we all gathered in the locker rooms. I suppose everyone had heard about my missing. I could hear them whispering. ”She‘s acting like there‘s nothing even wrong, she‘s such a freak.” One girl decided to spout and they left soon after. I thought about slamming my locker door considering what she said bothered me. However, I closed it with a bit of reserve and went to wash my face in the sink to calm down, and as I looked into the mirror; there they were, those dark red eyes; and that devilishly clingy grin.

A Hero Named "LOVELY"!


Peoria, United States

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Artist's Description

The story of a young girl in a ghostly situation. A contest piece by James D, Hogan III; it’s sure to rattle your bones.

Artwork Comments

  • Ushna Sardar
  • dragonmanstudio
  • Michael Lee
  • dragonmanstudio
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