CONTENTS
pg 4 Message from the Editor/Credits
pg 7 This Month’s Theme
pg 70 GRITTY PORTRAIT pg 8 You Are Not Always What You See MIND ERASER Draining Out Everything Inside pg 88 pg 30 MIRROR, MIRROR THE THRILL IS GONE The Truth is in Your Reflection Satisfaction is Hard to Come By pg 106 pg 50 SONGS THAT INSPIRED THIS GIRL OFF-KILTER ISSUE Feeling Unbalanced Our October Issue Playlist
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WRITING FEATURES
pg 14 The Mental Jester Loves Playing in the Dark
pg 56 If You Hear a Dial Tone, Hang Up Immediately
pg 36 Fever Sweats are a Nightly Occurrence
pg 76 Halfway Home Again
pg 93 Don’t Turn Off the Night Light
pg 21 This Isn’t What I Ordered
pg 67 Touch with Caution
pg 26 The Devil is in the Details
pg 83 Hush, My Soul’s Asleep
pg 42 Idle Hands
pg 96 Lost in the Light
pg 62 Frown, Sweet Baby
pg 103 She’s Staring Back at Me
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MESSAGE FROM THE EDITOR Hey everyone! My name is Ceirra Burton, and I am the creator and editor-in-chief of 626 Capricorn Road. Thank you so much for taking the time to read the September issue. 626 Capricorn Road is a magazine that is ever-changing and with this month’s issue, “Color Me Deadly”, I wanted to bring a Halloween element to all of the content and explore the darkness associated with the hoilday. I hope you guys enjoy the journey you are about to go on as you explore the artsy world of 626 Capricorn Road. Happy reading! Website: www.626capricornroad.com Instagram: @626capricornroad Tumblr: 626capricornroad.tumblr.com Twitter: @626CapRoad Facebook: 626 Capricorn Road Pinterest: 626capricornroad Photography by: Ceirra Burton Written Work by: Ceirra Burton
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This Month’s Theme Durng the month of October, the horror genre is the subject of choice for all types of entertainment (film, television, art, etc...). I wanted to explore that genre as well in this month’s issue. In the writing, I wanted to talk about fears and being afraid of the dark. I wanted to showcase how our imaginations run wild when we’re scared of things we cannot see. Drawing a parallel between the supernatural creatures in favorite ghost stories and the everyday villains that live next door to us. I chose to shoot in black and white because I wanted to play with shadows and give the photos a film noir look. Bringing an air of mystery to all of the content presented in this issue, which I felt would compliment the overall theme. So, without further ado, let’s unravel “Color Me Deadly.”
- Ceirra Burton
7
MIND
8
ERASER
Draining Out Everything Inside
The Mental Jester Loves Playing in the Dark
Before I go to sleep, I take a moment to reflect on my day. The good, the bad, and the vilest moments all replay in my head like a twisted home movie. My mind swims in a pool of negativity, and it’s within this moment, my mental jester comes out to play. The little voice in my head telling me I’m not good enough. It screams the loudest of all my memories, making me aware of its presence. Its laughter haunts me whenever any type of goodness comes into my life. The cadence hits an evil rhythm during the night. Sleep comes in choppy waves at the hand of my unstable psyche. The mental jester has begun entertaining my cerebral court. Its defense is that there’s no place for me in this world where I can be endlessly showered with happiness. My emotions are too moody and sullen to change. It makes its final statement to the jury, and my pleas fall on deaf ears. It’s hard to see the light in your life when you’ve spent too much time navigating through the dark.
This is where it thrives.
“You’re never going to make it,” it screams in its highest register.
So, I close my eyes, and I pray when they open, the jester will go back into hibernation, and I am free from this burden…until nightfall. When the cycle repeats itself and all the accomplishments I’ve garnered stand no chance against the voice in my head.
14
This Isn’t What I Ordered
I didn’t ask for the cold Autumn nights. I didn’t ask for fear to creep into my mind. I specifically wanted to remain calm and sane for the remainder of the year. I never ordered distress and rapid pacing. I never ordered walking home alone in fear of the monsters coming to get me. I didn’t ask for fiction to become my reality. Send back the horror plaguing my mind and rumors of evil lurking in the dark. Where the boogeyman comes out to play like a child at recess. I don’t want the paranoia. Get rid of the creaking floorboards and flickering lights. Take those away and bring me back a cloak to shield me from the shadows on the wall. I didn’t order the paralyzing nightmares. Frantically waking up from night sweats and being haunted by night terrors. Fearing something is going to come out from under my bed. I want to feel safe in my own home. I don’t want to be haunted by the dark. I want to be comforted by the light. This isn’t what I ordered.
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The Devil is in the Details She paints her face with the precision of a surgeon in action. No spot left uncovered. No blemish left uncolored. Bright lights descending upon her face, illuminating her deepest fears. She wears her insecurities like cracked armor in battle. Her façade disintegrating into an empty shell. She covers everything up until her satisfaction is fulfilled. Her features or her calling card. Leaving it in the hands of strangers like breadcrumbs to her heart. As much as she wants her brain to speak for her, it’s her appearance that gets the job done. She moves about her canvas with delicate hands, and the intensity of a predator on the move. She can no longer sit and wait for her circumstances to change. Vanity comes with a price. It is with every prayer laced with envy that a piece of her soul is sold to the devil. She’s kept a tally of how many pieces have been bought, and thrown behind the gates of hell. She can’t afford to cleanse herself of all the hubris she’s pumped up on. This means too much to her.
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The Devil is in the Details
R H T E
S I ILL
TH
30
E N GO
Satisfaction is Hard to Come By
Fever Sweats are a Nightly Occurrence 36
They say when you are afraid of something or feeling guilty, your fears haunt you at night. For me, it started last Sunday. A few hours after I had come home using my shortcut through the woods, there was something about that night that made me keep my eyes peeled to make sure I wasn’t being followed. Typically, my walk home goes smoothly. Yet, the air was very chilly, and the wind began to pick up during my commute. Autumn weather doesn’t usually drop this fast, but I felt like this was more than just a regular dip in the temperature. There was a presence wanting to make itself known. I couldn’t quite figure it out, but I think it followed me home. Ever since then, I began having night sweats. Feverish dreams of being chased through those same woods I travel through all the time. Circling the area until I can no longer recognize my surroundings. When the clock strikes at 2:01, my body starts to feel hot. I begin to shake and mutter incoherent sounds in my sleep.
This is when I know the dream has begun.
I pass through the trees on a rocky, dirt path and when I’m several feet in, there are sounds of tree limbs breaking nearby. I can’t be the only presence in these woods. Someone might be following me. As I embrace the sudden change in temperature in my dream, my reality is on fire. My body becomes a heatwave mimicking summer weather, but I cannot wake up. This thing that has brought me here won’t let me leave. I trek on as if nothing is wrong, but every several feet that same noise occurs. Only this time, my senses are heightened, and the sound begins to get louder. It sounds like heavy footsteps. The trees start to sway a bit more and as they do my body starts to shift from discomfort until I’m paralyzed in my bed. This same motion happens on a terrifying loop. In the dream, my fears grow louder as I move along. In reality, my body sinks further into the bed, melting from my body heat. I shouldn’t feel like I’m in the depths of hell every time I close my eyes. How would I know if this is what hell feels like?
Have I been sent there without my consent?
Was I marked by some evil entity?
Are these nightly sweats and fever dreams the result of demonic possession?
Do those even still exist?
If they do, perhaps this is what it feels like. Being haunted by some evil spirit for the sake of their enjoyment. Taking a joyride through the world of the living. Whatever this, please make it stop. These dreams get darker and more unbearable each night. The noises in the woods reach a crescendo that causes me to run for my life. I pray for my legs to carry me out of these woods, but the route keeps changing. I know where I’m going, but my final destination is not the same. Because of the confusion, my bed gets wholly drenched every time I make a wrong turn.
If I don’t wake up from this dream soon, I fear my symptoms will progress to the point of no return.
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When midnight approaches, you’re the first thing on my mind. I think of you during the blackest of night. It’s unfathomable how you have made me into what I am. It only takes one look to bring me to my knees. Falling for you was easy, keeping my desires under control unbearable.
Abandoned limbs are the hardest to tame. I’ve got too much time on my hands. I find myself counting down the minutes until I see you again. In the meantime, my hands move on its own accord. Touching everything in sight with the softest caress. Mimicking the movements I use on you. The surfaces imitating your skin. Hard to soft, rough to smooth, cold to hot. My senses are in overdrive. My imagination runs wild when I think of you. Thinking of all the ways you’d entertain me. Nighttime fantasies and scandalous daydreams can only do so much. Please come and put my mind at ease, So, my hands can take a much-needed break from this immodest madness.
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Idle Hands
Idle Hands
They say idle hands are the devil’s playground.
GIRL OFF -KIL T
ER
50
Feeling
Unbal
anced
If You Hear a Dial Tone, Hang Up Immediately They say when a stranger calls, they always use a familiar number. They’ll use your area code, so you think someone nearby is trying to get ahold of you. Of course, you have your friends and family in your contacts as well as various food delivery and customer service numbers. Yet, there’s always one number that feels unfamiliar. Like a telemarketer or scam artist is trying to get ahold of you. Normally you don’t bother answering these calls, but what happens when this number calls you late at night? You’re getting ready for bed after completing your nightly routine, and as soon as you pull back the covers, your phone goes off. 56
Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Your ringtone echoes through the room, and you check your caller ID. You’ve never seen this number before, and you have a feeling you shouldn’t answer the phone. If it’s important, they’ll leave a voicemail. So, you let the phone go until it stops ringing. A couple minutes go by and you think nothing of the person who just called you. There’s no voicemail, so you assume a salesperson tried to sell you a vacation or give you pre-approved loan advice. You hop in the bed and grab the book off your nightstand, but as soon as you do your phone goes off again. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. It’s the same number calling you back. You think to yourself, “Maybe I should answer?” Still, if it’s important, they’ll leave a message. Besides, who do you know that would be insistently calling you at this time of night. So, you brush it off and open up your book. You get halfway through the page you’re reading and that number calls again. This is the third time within five minutes, but you can’t bring yourself to answer the phone. You try to ignore the call, but the phone keeps ringing. Now you start to get worried because this is unusual. You’ve never had this type of experience before, and you’re starting to get concerned. Maybe someone you know really is attempting to get ahold of you but from a different number. You run scenarios through your head of things that could have happened to your family or friends. Whether they got into an accident or fell dangerously ill. You begin to question if you should pick up the phone at all, but the ringing finally stops. You take a deep breath and tell yourself if the phone rings again, you will answer. Sure enough, the phone goes off, and it’s that same number. You brace yourself for the verbal impact but as soon as you say hello, all you hear is a dial tone. You say hello again, but this time, you hear a door slam. You freeze because the noise come from the phone, it came from inside the house.
This is the part where you should hang up because your life is about to be threatened in 3…2…1… 57
Frown, Sweet Baby The currency I value isn’t always green. Monetary value doesn’t have a consistent fulfillment. I have a ravenous appetite for avaricious pleasure under heightened circumstances. My cravings turn shades of unbearable at the most inconvenient times. I’m always striving for more. Always hoping the next thrill would bring me closer to my goal. My morale is screaming at me, telling me that my cup runneth over one too many times. I’ve collected enough corrupted souls to last a lifetime. Enough tainted faces to keep me occupied for the rest of my days. Sometimes my insatiability bleeds red. Their hearts are next. Stealing love in its purest form right out of their beating aortas. Next is the inquiring knowledge from their growing minds. The memories of their acquired happiness, drained from their cerebral homes. Everything they embody would become mine forever. That’s the vice that haunts me most at night. The sensation for manipulation of every being that crosses my path. Taking what belongs to me, one victim at a time.
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Touch with Caution You should never undermine her. If you cross her, things won’t end so well for you. The depths of her anger are endless Approaching her without warning can be fatal. She doesn’t take kindly to power-hungry strangers. Electricity runs through her veins. Her rage has no restrictions. When she strikes, she strikes hard. There are no limits for initiating painful revenge on those who wronged her. Hell hath her fury like a scorned fighter. Her deliverance is lethal. Her charm a poisonous dagger. Everything she touches is affected by her venom. Striking when you least expect it. You won’t see it coming for miles. Feeling the effects immediately. Realizing what happened only when it’s too late.
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GRITTY PORTRAIT
70
You Are Not Always What You See
Halfway Home Again
I’ve been walking in circles again. Time has decided to play a trick on me. Torturing me with a repetitive reality.
This is only the beginning of my nightmares.
I tried to imagine what it would feel like if my imagination succumbed to the dark. If I let the boogeyman play me like a puppet on a string. My skeletons are out of the closet, and they’re now controlling my life. Influencing the people I come across into thinking the worst of me. I’m not entirely sure when these thoughts occurred, but for the last several days, I’ve felt as if something evil has come for me. Finding its way into my body and leaving my soul in a state of unrest. It’s the strange October nights that fuel this darkness. I’ve been walking in circles for ages. Every time I think that this is going to end, I’m brought onto a different path. Each path revealing something more profound about myself.
A new level of darkness clouding over me.
My judgment compromised, and my morality disbanded. I can’t seem to come out of these thoughts. I can’t seem to filter out what is real and what is a figment of my imagination. Everything comes out jumbled as if coherent thoughts are no longer accepted. Strangers look at me as if I’ve gone insane and those closest to me become fearful for my sanity. Nonsense being vocalized for no apparent reason.
It’s unlikely I will actually reach my destination in time.
I’m most vulnerable when I’m outside of my comfort zone. How has it come to this? Will it ever end?
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PICTURE HERE
Hush, My Soul’s Asleep Hush now. Keep your voice down. My spirit is in a state of unrest. It has been lethargic for days. Moving about in a depressive motion with no end to its misery in sight. My soul is in desperate need of a wake-up call. Void of emotion from dawn to dusk, and back again, hoping to fall into the deepest of sleep. Traveling to Acedia in my dreams. I have been here before. Each level of discomfort brings me to my knees, weakening them as soon as they touch the ground. I’ve longed empathy, but apathetic nightcaps are my drink of choice. I call upon the light to awaken my spirit, but the dark has blinded me. Punishing me for my change in allegiance. The clocks are frozen from lack of stimulation. My soul never wakes up with an alarm anymore. It gets harder to rise up out of bed with purpose, when the world has abandoned me for a cadaver more suitable for enlightment. 83
R O R R I M I M R R O R 88
The Truth is in Your Reflection
Don’t Turn Off the Night Light I never thought I would have trouble sleeping, especially after you left me. I never had a problem with closing my eyes and dreaming the night away. Allowing my mind to play within the depths of my imagination. That is until I witnessed the most horrendous thing I ever thought could happen to me. You died in my arms. It happened right here in this bathroom. This world was just too much for you. You couldn’t bear to live another day. So, you ended your pain by trading your soul for eternal silence. Going quietly into the night. I tried to be there for you, but in the end, I wasn’t enough. The last thing I remember before your body was taken away, was the night light in the bathroom. You place it in there because it gets very dark in this house at night. It was a navigational tool to help us make our way around. It was shining brighter than ever because we just changed the bulb, but for some reason, I kept thinking it was you staring at me while I held your body in my arms.
Telling me that everything was going to be okay. As long as this light’s here, I’ll be okay.
I’ve had trouble sleeping ever since.
At 3am, I wake up with a jolt. The sound of a loud thud rings in my mind, reminding me of the night you died. I get out of bed and move on autopilot towards the bathroom. When I open the door, I immediately see that night light. The night light is and assures me that nothing has happened. Yet your memory sits at the front of my mind. I can’t help but wonder how a small night light can help trigger my emotions. Forcing me to deal with my new situation.
It’s just me now.
I don’t need the light to navigate my way around.
However, there’s a sense of comfort that comes with this night light. Knowing you’re still here even if I can’t see you. I love having it here in this bathroom because it reminds me of you. You were a bright light in a dark world, but the darkness became too much for you. Your wattage dimmed until it faded into nothing, becoming a part of this dark world you were so desperate to escape. This light gives me the hope that one day its brightness will guide me to helping others who were just like you. Facing the dark head on and using their own night light to guide the way.
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Lost in the Light I’ll take all that you have and then some. Toxic nourishment at its finest. Craving you is never enough. Your love is an indulgence that strengthens my desires. I lose all sense of control when I get my daily dose of you. Devouring your passion like a French delicacy. Sweet, soft, and savory. Melting in your mouth in just one bite. Going 24 hours without you is impossible. I feast upon your seduction as if it’s my last meal. I stock up on fuel for days at a time, so that I may survive on my own without your body heat. Praying for your swift return back into my arms.
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SHE’S STARING BACK AT ME
I can feel whenever she’s near. She wants everything I possess. To feel alive in a warm body, and to belong to the world again. It’s not enough to look through filtered windows, witnessing the living going about their day, jealousy running through her icy veins. She desires what life has given me. I could feel her midnight eyes trained on me, like a sniper to its target. An enemy of her world. The afterlife despises those with air in their lungs. She has no explanation as to how this obsession flourished. All she knows is that my soul is her prize. Her reward for driving me to my demise. It’s best to ignore her. Do not pay any attention to her antics. Her temper is only short-lived. Anger iis her only weapon of defense. You can’t entirely escape her presence. She’ll haunt you until she can get a taste of what she feels belongs to her. But she’ll always be stuck in the shadows, while you spend your days in the sun. A luxury she is so desperate to have, but will never obtain until the end of time. 103
Closer - Kings of Leon Tear You Apart - She Wants Revenge True Blood - Justin Timberlake Written in Blood - She Wants Revenge Crying Lightning - Arctic Monkeys Red Right Hand - Arctic Monkeys Puppet on a String - The Hives 3 a.m. - Eminem U.R.A.Fever- The Kills Secret Door - Arctic Monkeys Voodoo Child (Slight Return) - Jimi Hendrix Black Magic Woman - Fleetwood Mac The One That Got Away - The Civil Wars Psychotic Girl - The Black Keys Ten Cent Pistol - The Black Keys Mind Eraser - The Black Keys I Put a Spell on You - Jeff Beck ft. Joss Stone Batphone - Arctic Monkeys Madness - Muse Dracula Teeth - The Last Shadow Puppets
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SONGS INSPI THIS I
THAT IRED ISSUE
Nearly Witches (Ever Since We Met…) - Panic! at the Disco Arabella - Arctic Monkeys Cold-Blooded - The Pretty Reckless Blood Machine - Nico Vega So So Fresh - Nico Vega Why’d You Bring a Shotgun to the Party - The Pretty Reckless Date with the Night - Yeah Yeah Yeahs Phenomena - Yeah Yeah Yeahs Rich - Yeah Yeah Yeahs Follow You Home - Nickelback Make it Rain - Foy Vance The Thrill is Gone - B.B. King Black Thumbnail - Kings of Leon My Party - Kings of Leon Witchy Woman - The Eagles Pretty Vistors - Arctic Monkeys Golden Trunks - Arctic Monkeys Amnesia - Justin Timberlake Dead End Justice - The Runaways Superstition - The Kills
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Next Issue Release Date: Nov 26th, 2018 Theme: “Autumn Fever”
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