So I thought I'd start this out with Synlet since that's what really got my writing going/refined (other than Dark Calamity but you can find that on FanFiction dot net) so here goes some otherwise unseen Synlet schiz. Well, unseen if you haven't heard this year's Lit Program. The last two pieces aren't mine, will not claim they are, they belong to one of my friends and crzysheelf, respectively. Transitions and first two are mine, though.
Lit Program
The Hero And The Villain
Sometimes, things happen. People get sucked into things they’re not entirely sure of and before they know it, they’re swept off their feet. Such is the tale of two star-crossed lovers, known here only as the hero and the villain.
We begin our story with a reflection on the past following our leading lady, the hero. It dabbles in her first thoughts about the villain’s reappearance on her personal radar after his supposed death, and also describes him in vivid albeit biased detail. It’s clear from the start that she hates everything about him. The unclear part is, how long will her hatred remain?
The Hero and Her Thesaurus
If she was going to be completely honest with everyone, mostly with herself, at first she had hated him.
No, hated wasn’t the right term. Detested was much better. Despised, loathed, oh, thesauruses were fun little things. Abhorred.
Well, regardless of what the right word was, she loathed, abhorred, despised… whatever words there were for it, they were the feeling she felt when she first saw the “new” version of him on television.
One glance at the redhead she’d seen with his short hair and his probably far-too-expensive coat and she knew that she detested him, not even knowing his name. Of course, then it flashed across the bottom of the screen and she knew why.
He was getting away with murder, literally, just by getting a haircut and saying he was supposedly sorry. That was just wrong. Inaccurate, unfitting, improper, just plain not right. The hero would flip the channel, and she’d see him again. It’s as though, magically, he had taken over every single TV station in the country. So she turned it off, not wanting to see his smug grin anymore. It’s like he was saying to their entire family, ‘Hey. Look at me. I’m not dead and the public loves me. You fail at being superheroes forever.’ Cue the evil laugh.
Yes, the hero had loathed the villain with every single bone in her thin little body. She hated his “playful” blue eyes which looked like a pair of ice cubes, the “cute” concentrations of melanin across his face called freckles, and worst of all, that “charming” smile that made her want to punch him right in his smirking mouth.
A small part of her wondered if he actually had changed, but most of her didn’t care. The businessman was the villain, and the villain was the businessman. The two were synonymous with one another, inseparable personalities forever intertwined. This was just an act. Underneath the way he presented himself on television was a genocidal maniac, and nothing could change that.
Or so she thought.
The hero and the villain don’t waste any time meeting each other, and their encounter is like the collision of two trains speeding down the tracks toward one another- inevitable and explosive. The villain, ever the intelligent one, devises a plan to capture our hero, one that succeeds in ways he never would have hoped for and yet fails in others. In the next piece, the hero tells us of her brief time around him.
Familiar Taste
“Drink the wine, my darling,” you said. “Take your time and consume all of it.”
I stared you down from across the table, watching every expression on your masked face. I should have known who you were.
But I didn’t, and I drank. From sips to swallows, there was a tang in the liquid that I recognized. You were trying to knock me out again.
The glass flew into the wall and shattered, guided by my hand. I wasn’t doing this. Not tonight.
I didn’t see it when you walked toward me. You were just there as I looked up. I felt a sting, and your expression was not unlike a self-satisfied cat. You had put the chemicals into my system anyway. As your face grew distant, I realized that we were destined to do this again, and again, and again.
For even though I didn’t like this familiar taste of poison, I would just keep coming back. I was in love.
And then you took off your mask, revealing who you really are.
The face that had haunted my nightmares was burned into my retinas as I sank down into the blackness.
The hero has figured everything out. Or, at least she thinks she does. What she doesn’t know is that the villain has finally come to terms with his feelings for her. Despite her attempts to escape, she never truly succeeds. The next poem displays the conflicting feelings of the hero and the villain, and their true outlook on this tainted love.
If This Is Love (this was written by the friend, not me, do not give me credit for this)
You're the worst choice I could make.
You're the best promise I could break.
You're the closest thing to hell I can find in this icebox of hearts.
You're the coldest shadow in this inferno of fury and pain.
You pull me back every time I escape.
And you know we both secretly like it best that way.
If this is hate, what is love?
If this is love, what is hate?
Who are you, to think you matter to me?
Who am I to pretend otherwise?
Why aren't I lying?
Why are you trying?
You're nothing good.
But you're better than perfect.
I keep saying no.
But we know we're thinking yes.
The hero and the villain finally meet on her terms, away from the plans and all the drama of the hero’s family life. They find a way to make it work, as all great love stories do, and even the bad guy gets a happy ending. So ends their saga with a poem from the villain’s point of view, telling his side of the story, the tale less told from the wrong side of the tracks.
The Hero and the Villain
You play the hero,
And I play the villain.
Maybe someday we can meet in the middle,
Someday when we realize that the lies
Our parents taught us,
And the lines they drew are nothing more than a ruse.
As children in our innocence
And naïveté
Forever color blind, but never seeing gray,
The color of the truth,
The color where to meet we go,
And love, the only place where we can show,
Our feelings, the abomination that they are,
If only your valiant father knew,
The level I have taken his daughter to.
Everything we worked for, the sides we fought on,
The battle I can't throw aside,
I promised I'd give you up, but I lied.
Letting you go takes strength that I am lacking.
I used to hate, to detest,
You and your famous family for creating my inner unrest.
But you took me in by your power,
I tossed away my plan, my goal, my revenge, for you,
My flower.
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