It was 7 a.m., the alarm on my phone went off, like it does every morning, at this time. That was when I usually took my jog around the block. It was my daily ritual, but it has been avoided over a month now. I hit the dismiss button on my alarm and turned to my left side, staring at the wall. I was extremely exhausted, from tossing and turning all night. "I can't keep doing this," I said to myself. "I must try to get motivated." So, I gruntly made my way up, from my bed, my feet hit the floor and I stretched. The silence through my home, filled the air. My first thought, was coffee. "This should help me get motivated." I had plenty of time to myself, before I had to go to work. I was a custodian, at the highschool in my town and I didn't have to be there, until 2:30 p.m., when school was let out. I took my coffee, dug out my journal and bible, to spend some quality time, with Jesus. It was also another thing I tried to keep up on, as much as possible, but today I found it was very hard to concentrate. I apologized, to Jesus and dragged myself back to bed. I layed there. My mind wouldn't stop racing. I had images of him, replaying in my mind. His smile, his smell, what he was wearing, his blue eyes, dark hair, and the mole on his shoulder, still so fresh in my memory. I couldn't get him out of my head and tears began, to run down my cheeks. I wanted to scream, "I just can't keep doing this." I grabbed the remote, to turn on the television, to help distract me. I usually turned on something silly to help me laugh, when I was extremely down in the dumps. Even, that couldn't help, to get him off my mind. The coffee didn't help me, because before I knew it, I fell back to sleep. When I woke up, I was even more groggy, then before. I looked at the time wondering if I had over slept, but it was only noon. I couldn't wait to get to work, to keep myself distracted. I hopped in the shower. When I was finished I got ready for work, grabbed some food, and I decided to head to work early. I usually was an early bird. I would rather, be there early, then arrive late. When I got there, I knocked on the door waiting L, for an employee, to let me in. I was only a sub- custodian, so I didn't have a key fob, to enter the building. They usually expected me, so I didn't usually wait long outside. Kathy heard me, from the custodial room. "You look rough, Cindy. Couldn't sleep again?," she asked. She walked to her chair, to sit down. I sat in the chair at the end of the table. "No, I kept tossing and turning again. I woke up with sweats, from night terrors." Kathy sighed a deep sigh, "I know you been through hell and back, but you should seek professional help... you can't keep living like this." I knew she was right, but I had a hard time opening up. "Your right, Kathy." That's all I knew what to say. I asked how her day was and dropped all the issues, I had built up in the back of my mind. When the bell ringed, that was my cue to head to my closet and get started on cleaning the rooms. I normally liked my job, because I was left alone and able to do my job in peace. Recently, I don't want to be alone much anymore, because my minds been wondering a lot. I was in the science room cleaning off the desk. The kids were learning about crime investigations. They had a dummy doll layed out on the floor, with caution tape squared off around it. There was a set up of a crime scene, to where the kids had to figure out, what had happen to this dummy doll. The scene made my head twirl, a flash back of his body laying lifeless on the ground. I lost my breathe, when I heard a noise, from behind me. "Did I scare you?" My coworker Mike said, as he giggled a little. I pulled myself together, "Yes, you did." I smiled back at him. He and a couple of other co-workers, liked to pull pranks on me, from time to time. They think it's fun, usually I get a kick out of it, but I haven't enjoyed it over a month now. I didn't let them know that, because they didn't know my story. I only opened up to Kathy. "How are you? Do you need my help?," he asked. "No, I am okay. Thank you though." I said. "No problem, just holler if you need anything. I leave at 5:30." He responded. "Alright." I said. He walked into the hall and scurried off, to his next location. After I collected my thoughts, I quickly cleaned out that room, as fast as possible to move on to the next. The rest of the day seemed to drag. I tried my hardest to keep my mind a way from my thoughts, but something always seemed to get my mind right back to it. For instance, the next room I was cleaning, this teacher had a battery operated fish on a plaque, that when you pushed the button it would sing "Don't worry, be happy." Which made me think of him. He had one hanging on his wall, that I remember I would push and dance, to occasionally. It would make him and I smile, when we were feeling down. Chills ran down my spine as memories flooded my mind, I just stood there. I had to break out of this trance. "I will never get my work done," I said to myself. I forced myself to press on. I moved onto the next room and I heard Kathy's voice trailing through the hallway. "Cindy, its lunch time. Are you taking lunch today?" "Yeah." I headed out towards Kathy. "I'm suprised your taking lunch today, you haven't taken it all week." "I really needed a break today." "I understand that, all to well." She said. As we were walking to the room, she was talking about how her area was more messier then usual. When we got there she took out her lunch and threw it in the microwave. "How's your night going?" She asked. "I dont know...it's just, everything I see reminds me of him." She looks at me with sympathy. "Your situation is tough, I wish there was something more I could do for you." "It's okay, just letting me vent helps. I know I must seek professional help though." "Yeah, that might do you even better." The microwaveable timer went off and she took her food out and stirred it up. She sat down at her seat. "Your situation is tough, because you have known this guy for a while online. When you met him two months ago, things were pretty great and they turned sour quickly. The way that he died, didn't help your situation any better...it would be very difficult, to get over." I felt the tears bottling up to my tear ducts, it was hard to hold them back." I know, it's just every thing went down hill so quickly, Kathy... I am sick of the nightmares. I'm sick of being mentally and emotionally exhausted." Kathy nodded her head at me, with sympathy in her eyes. I wiped the tears away from my eyes and said, " and I know, I won't overcome this, without professional help. I know I need to stop procrastinating it, but I am scared." After Kathy was done chewing up the food in her mouth she said, "and it's okay to be scared." "Thank you for the reinsurance, Kathy." We moved onto a different subject. She talked about how she was boxing up some things, to have a yard sale. That helped keep my mind occupied, for the time being. Before I knew it, lunch was over. It always went by quick. A half an hour isn't very long. "Well, back at it." she said. "Atleast we are at our half way mark." "True story." I said. We went our separate ways and continued our work. It was dragging and tough, but I made it through, yet another night. On my way home, I turned up the music in my car, to drown out my thoughts. Ironically, "Don't worry, be happy" blasted into my ears. My heart felt like it stopped, his wide smile and big eyes, were glaring at me. I turned the station immediately. I could not wait to be out of this car and to be home. When I finally reached home, I locked my car door behind me. I usually hit the button twice, until I heard the beep, just to make sure it's locked. From a distance, I saw someone. I couldn't believe my eyes. I must have been in another one of my dreams, because the someone was him. I thought he was dead, but here he is, right in front of me on the street, smiling at me. I just couldn't believe this was real, because I thought he was dead! He picked up his hand and waved at me. I panicked and quickly headed towards the door, of my apartment complex. He began to run after me, "Hey, wait up! I have a present for you," he said. I fiddled around with my keys too quickly, I dropped them on the ground. Before I knew it, he was there blocking me. "I thought I'd never see you again," he said. I was backed in a corner fearing for my life. I was once again, face to face with my stalker. "You were dead...I seen you lying on the floor. I seen you being taken away in the body bag." "No, that was my twin brother Steve." "What!?," I said. I was pretty speechless, at this point. "You see, I do think outside of the box. I wouldn't be able, to have seen you again." He brushed his hand against my face. Tears rolled down my cheeks. "I missed our last night we had together. It was very romantic." He said, with a smile on his face. It looked demented. "It wasn't romantic for me," I said. "It was dirty and gross." "It didn't seem that way to me, as far as I am aware, you enjoyed it." "I was begging, for who I thought was you to stop!," I said nervously. "You killed my brother Steve for this?," he said." I thought you would be thrilled to see me." I couldn't say anything I just wanted to wake up from this nightmare. I had no idea if he had any weapons. I had no idea, what was going to happen next. "If I didn't use my twin brother, as a decoy... I wouldn't be here with you, tonight. " "No! You would be locked up in prison!," I said bitterly and angrily. "You never even told me you had a twin!" "I knew he would come in handy, one day.," he said laughing. "With you killing Steve, you assumed I was dead, so you wouldn't come looking for me." "You know what you did was wrong. You're sick in the head!," I said. "Hush and follow me.," he grabs my arm. I began to fight back. "Let me go!" Once again, I was reliving my nightmare. When I thought it was all over, it got thrown back into my face. I was scared, worried, this might be the end of my life. I was standing face to face with a man, that was once my friend and the friendship turned dark quickly. Once his true colors, began to show. He became obsessive, angry and demanding. When I pushed away, he pushed more towards me. Stalking me all hours, from day to night. Even after I put a restraining order on him, it didn't stop him. He continuously harassed me. I'm in tears, trying to pull away from him. He continuously drags me up the street, only God knows where. This is the end, for me I thought. Until, I heard someone call out. "Hey!," a man screamed at us. "Let her go!" But Luis squeezed my hand tighter and dragged me faster. "Help, please!," I begged and screamed. The unknown man reached us pretty quickly, I was broken free, from Luis's hand. My whole body was trembling, as I dialed 911. The man was built and seemed very fit and active. He held down Luis, until the cops arrived. Luis watched me the whole time he was put in hand cuffs and while sitting, in the back of the police car. He watched me, until he couldn't see me no more. "I went even more into a break down, that everyone was on my case to go see a counselor. This is why I am here, today to tell you my story." "Begin, whenever your ready.," my counselor said. I took a deep sigh in, "One night, Luis got me alone with, who I thought was him, but it turned out to be his twin brother, instead. Apparently, his twin brother, was in on it. Luis told Steve, he was going to get some action from a chick that night, but he was wrong. I killed him while I was trying to defend myself. Turns out, who I thought was the right man, was the wrong man. So, I was face to face with Luis, once more. Something that, I didn't expect would happen. I thought, I had killed the right guy. I relived my nightmare all over again, because Luis fed me so many lies. My trust is blown out the window. You think you know a person, to find out you didn't, even really know them at all." The counselor writes some notes on her notepad. "How are you sleeping?" I looked out the window, "Not good since Steve's death, but it got worse, after realizing Luis is alive." "But, he is locked up in Jail, Cindy." I took a deep sigh, "Yeah, of course he's in jail...for now, but he is still out there, living and breathing. I know, when his time runs out, he'll be back on the streets...searching, lurking and waiting for me to come around.


It was 3:00 AM when I woke up. I can't remember the last time I slept completely through the night. I get up to pee or drink a glass water every night. These past few nights however, I keep waking up at 3:00 AM on the dot. I stared at the blue LED numbers as goosebumps began to form on my skin. I turned over, pulling the covers a bit closer, and drifted right back to sleep. I woke up again in my room and slowly sat up in bed, a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. As I looked at the blue LEDs, I swallowed and felt myself start to sweat. It was the dead of winter but for some reason I was so hot, and somehow it was still 3:00 AM. I knew something wasn't right, something was off, and that's when my eyes adjusted to the darkness of my bedroom and I saw it. I tried to scream, to move, run, turn away, but I was paralyzed save for my eyes. The creature standing in front of my bedroom door had skin so pale it seemed bleached. My eyes paused on it's long, dirty fingernails. Was that blood underneath its fingernails? flesh? dirt? Or perhaps all three. Each one was sharpened and pointed, perhaps to make killing its victims easier. My terrified eyes started to move slowly up its body drinking in more of the horror when all of a sudden it leapt at me. I screamed out and sat up in bed. I looked at the clock. 8:13 AM and sunlight greeted me. After a few minutes of deep breaths the dream started to fade and I began to get ready for work. By the time I got out of the shower it was barely a faded memory with each part of the day fading it a bit more. By the time I got home from work and cooked dinner I didn't even remember the dream. Even better I fell asleep watching reruns of my favorite lighthearted comedy, Always Sunny. My sleep would be nothing but peaceful tonight. I was exhausted and as I drifted off to sleep, I even had the gumption to think I may sleep through the night. I woke up upside down in my bed with my feet resting on my pillows and my head at the foot of my bed. I slowly turned my neck to right, the wall my alarm clock was on, and felt my body get hot. 3:00 AM, fuck. I looked back up at the ceiling and saw it, laying on the ceiling staring back at me. Again I was paralyzed as I stared on in horror. This time, my eyes first paused on the top of its head. Bits of scalp, bald spots, and tiny tufts of hair and blood decorated it. I felt the urge to vomit as I drank in the rest of its face and saw where its eyes should have been. Instead of its eyes I saw hollowed out sockets. Dried blood ran down the creatures pale cheeks all the way to its chest. Instead of vomiting I screamed and flipped out of my bed, desperately trying to reach the door. I was too late however, and as I felt its sharp fingernails dig into me I woke up to sunlight and an alarm clock that read 8:13 AM. As I laid there adjusting to real life, I realized that I felt like how roadkill looks like. First of all I felt simply exhausted. My shoulders and back ached despite not exercising in months. My muscles felt cramped and as I stretched out I realized something else. It was the dead of winter, but for some reason I was quite hot. I got up to brush my teeth and as I spit and rinsed out the toothpaste my eyes fell on the thermometer I keep in the bathroom cabinet. I was still quite hot and so I took my temperature. 103 degrees?? I called out of work immediately and went to go sit down on the couch. This morning the memory of my dream hadn't quite faded so fast and I was a bit reluctant to go back to bed. Instead of my usual coffee I made some green tea and turned on some Netflix to distract myself both from the nightmare and my fever. The strange thing was that although I was burning up, I hadn't coughed, sneezed, or even sniffled once. Mid day came and I realized I was starving, so I ordered some soup from a local favorite deli and went to go pick it up. As I stepped outside into the cold winter air I felt...blinded? The sun was harsh and unforgiving and so as I raised a hand to protect myself from its glare I realized that I felt even hotter out here. I went back inside and changed my soup order to a delivery, that broccoli cheddar would just have to come to me. I played some video games as I waited and when the soup finally did arrive it seemed to sooth my aching muscles and bones. Instead of heading back to the couch, I made my way to my bed and let the exhaustion wash over my body until I drifted off to sleep. No. Fuck no. I woke up in my room and the sun was gone. There was no way I slept that long and as my eyes drifted to that stupid alarm clock and I saw 3:00 AM light up the screen I felt a chill. My chill turned to goosebumps as I realized that I wasn't feeling hot anymore. I felt cool as a cucumber in kind of a good way. The lack of sun was comforting and cool as if I had just jumped into a pool on a hot summer day. As my stomach practically fell through the floor my gaze went immediately to my bedroom door. Nothing. Then up at the ceiling, also nothing. I sat up in bed, looking straight ahead, and saw it staring back at me at the foot of my bed. I saw its pale, white skin. I saw the patches of scalp and bloody hair hanging off its head. I saw its long pointed fingernails. I saw its hideous gouged out eye sockets and the dried blood around them. And then I saw something I hadn't noticed before. Or something I hadn't noticed a lack of. The hideous creature had no ears. I backed up to the edge of the wall behind me as it crept forward, opened its mouth, and screamed the most hideous scream I've ever heard. This time, when I woke up the harsh sunlight greeted me but the clock read 3:00 PM. As I gazed around the room I checked that horrible creatures usual spots and found nothing. I looked in the closet, under the bed, everywhere a monster would like to hide and found nothing. I sat at the edge of the bed and checked my phone in disbelief. I hadn't slept through an entire day and then some, I had only slept a few hours and I still felt so damned hot. I went around my house and drew all the curtains closed, maybe that would help? I sat on the couch desperately trying to distract myself with video games, comedy tv, anything but still that damned monster lingered in the back of my mind. So I called out of work for the next day, I still felt like shit and had a feeling I wouldn't get much sleep tonight either. As I went about my nightly routine I saw its pale skin as I washed my face. When I ate dinner I saw its grotesque fingernails. When I looked in the bathroom mirror and brushed my teeth I saw its horrible empty eye sockets. I stared at the clock that night terrified of sleep until at least 5:00 AM and when I woke up it was 3:00 AM and I felt so wonderfully cold. Each night continued similarly. I would be haunted all day with a terrible fever and terrible memories. The blinds drawn shut, trying to stay awake and distract myself. I slept for about an hour or two each night for weeks until I decided enough was enough. I had to fight back and get some real rest. I stopped bothering to call out of work, stopped bothering to eat when I woke up, I didn't even take medicine to combat my fever. The stress got to me after awhile and I noticed bits of hair falling out, sometimes even a bit bloody. Funny enough, when I woke up in my nightmares I felt no hunger, no fever. My scalp didn't hurt and I didn't feel exhausted. I could move a tiny bit more each nightmare and so I started fighting back against the monster. I filed my nails down to sharp pointy ones, all the better to sink into its pale skin. The mere sight of that monster stopped scaring me and I would lunge at him ready to attack and so he screamed at me for hours and hours in my nightmares. The screams were so horrible and so screeching that they alone paralyzed me. I had to beat the bastard, so I cut off my ears the next day. I would rather be deaf the rest of my life than deal with this monster every single night. When I woke up at 3:00 AM that night I lunged at the monster, he opened his mouth to scream yet I heard nothing come out. As I sunk my razor sharp nails into his pale skin something happened. He stopped resisting and I stopped fighting and we took each other in. He didn't move his hollowed out eye sockets but I felt him take in my pale white skin, the bloody bits of hair and scalp hanging from my head, the sharp, grotesque fingernails, and the scars where my ears should have been. Although he couldn't see I knew that he knew because his face seemed to look at mine and he smiled. He smiled the most hideous, grotesque, smile I'd ever seen. His teeth were stained yellow and his smile was unnaturally wide. I woke up knowing immediately what I had to do. I went to the bathroom and studied myself one last time. Pale white skin, bloody bits of hair and scalp hanging from my head, scars where my ears should have been. I looked down at my fingernails and then back at my reflection. I didn't want to look at myself anymore than that damned monster and so I raised those sharp fingernails to my eyes and gouged them out. I thought I would feel pain, I thought I would cry out, but I felt nothing. **Nothing but warm blood trickling down my face and the urge to smile, unnaturally wide.


“Aren’t you tired?” Aki asked. You give a small laugh, “Of course not, I’m not that weak you know.” “Hmm, is that so?” The sound of your lonesome footsteps echoes throughout the empty city. It’s been quite a while since you’ve looked at a calendar or watch, time now flows like a fluid, an ever changing mass-- no longer linear. Some days you wake up at it seems like the Impact had happened just yesterday, and some days it feels like the world had ended a millennia ago. “Do you think our city looks like this one?” High rise buildings and dominating structures no longer existed. Everything that tried to reach the stars was knocked back down, toppled, and turned into debris. You and Aki were walking directly in the middle of the city, and around you were certainly buildings and old cars, yet it all seemed like nothing-- meaningless mementos. Everything was buried in ash and grays, like an old memory left behind by Earth itself. “Our city wasn’t even as big as this one, I’m pretty sure it’s wiped out clean.” “That’s sad to think about huh,” Aki remarked in their sing song tone, “In the back of my mind I still sometimes think that perhaps the time capsule we built somehow survived.” “A meteor crashes into Earth decimating the strongest standing structures known to humanity and the cardboard time capsule we made with hot glue gun some survives?” Aki weakly swung their fist against your head, “It’s something that would be nice if it happened.” You hold Aki closer against your back, you can feel the dampness from their bandages and you decide to pick up the pace. “It certainly would be nice, but I don’t think we’re special enough for that.” You couldn’t see Aki but you could feel their mouth curving into that idealistic grin. “We were special enough to watch the end of the world weren’t we?” “Maybe,” you replied, “though if we were really special we’d be saving the world right now, maybe in another dimension fighting evil demons that destroyed the world.” A curious silence fell upon us as the orange glow of the sun gradually faded into subtle darkness. “Right there you sounded just like me!” Aki shouted. You couldn’t help but laugh. Spending a couple of years with anybody during an apocalypse would surely make you pick up some of their habits as well. I’m grateful for Aki though, their outlandish ideals certainly picks me up from falling into the tempting abyss of the world right now. You simply continue to walk the Earth because Aki would be sad if I left them alone. The sunken city, rivers of old wires and lights slowly faded behind you as you entered a grassland. Right behind you was the wreckage of the days gone by, right in front of you was one of the few things that remained from the world you knew. Aki gave a cry of joy but it was followed by a coughing fit. Against their pesters, you force them to take a swig out of your water canteen. “How are you feeling?” You ask. “Kind of sleepy,” Aki murmured. “You can rest, I’ll wake you up once we get there.” “That’s alright, I want to keep talking to you.” It was strange, the big city clustered with buildings seemed unbearably desolate and quiet and the hill with nothing but tall grass and the occasional breeze seemed packing with the sounds of life. Normally whenever you and Aki would sleep, it felt like you could hear the world turning on its axis. But here, the sky was painted a deep blue, no smoke shrouded this night sky-- the stars seemed to be just an arm’s reach away. “Woah! This place looks like the orphanage’s view,” Aki remarked. You nodded. You had met Aki a lot during your orphanage visits you did just for college-sake, you guys got a long well but it was only after the Impact when Aki discovered your body that you guys started getting closer. From that point onward, Aki was the only person you had left in your life. You walked with Aki on your back, walking towards the the peak where a single tree stood, and where the stars were the brightest in the world. “Do you think the protagonists of the world are getting any closer to defeating the villain?” Aki asked, their voice now softer than a whisper. “Who knows, we’ll just keep living our lives.” When books used to the common items, you often found yourself wandering what the background characters were doing while the main plot happened. You and Aki had no clear dreams or goals in this world, your story was one of an average romance. You met, you talked, you kissed, that’s all. Perhaps without the Impact you would’ve never seen Aki again. Is that love? You supposed so. “Hey Aki, do you love me?” “Yeah I do let’s make out.” Your quiet laughter was probably the first noise this quiet hill has heard in a long time. You had known of this fancy little hill for along time, you just never had anybody to invite to it before the world ended. But now, you wanted to take Aki to this place-- light fire crackers-- kiss, do whatever the vague dream was at the time. You rarely did anything fancy for Aki, and they didn’t have anybody else but you to celebrate with. It was only natural that you should finally pay them back with this one pleasant day. Even with an eternity of wandering and despair, a couple nights of star gazing could’ve at least made them more bearable. You hear Aki quietly snoring against your neck, ah you’ll let them be. “I love you...” They always had a habit of speaking in their sleep. You laid them down on the dewy grass and laid down with them. Your were finally here. The night was speckled with bright white dots-- amongst the smoke perhaps this was the brightest place in the world. Old temples and shrines still sat here, all below swirling clouds of the night and shooting stars of the universe. It was like you were sent centuries past, perhaps hundreds of years ago two lovers also looked at the same sky. “Hey you know Aki,” You stared into the vast sky, “It’s a horrible thing to think about but I can’t help thinking about if what we feel is love.” “I’m not a great person. I don’t really have anything special about me, if you had found another body under the debris I’m sure you would’ve never even thought about me.” A star shoots across the sky. The grass gently tickles both of your faces. “You could live without me, I’m sure you’d do fine.” “I don’t think I could live without you though. That’s why you should stop taking hits for me. I’ll recover you just keep staying alive. Keep telling me the little fairytales you wanted to write.” Another star shoots across the sky. “Hey Aki,” I said, “Why am I the only one talking?” “Hey Aki.” “Aki!” You cry. Their mouth was curve upwards like a permanent kind smile. “Isn’t... Isn’t this a little too cruel of a prank,” You laughed as your vision blurred. Through the years you spent together, through the kisses, did you ever tell Aki you loved them? Does true love even exist? What is that shit people keep talking about anyway? The only thing you knew anymore was that you could no longer live without Aki. You felt a pain so unbearable that you could no longer see or hear anything. You hugged their body and cry out to the universe. The universe replies with a lonesome echo.


(Content warning for memory loss and dissociation.) It started with me solving the final puzzle, and unlocking the final lock. It was like a fever dream. Hours of mindless research over and over again had led up to me reaching my final destination - this library. A library nobody had access to up until now. Up until I found it, until I unlocked what was behind those twenty something doors. Heavens above, I was proud of myself for once. I felt the slightest bit fulfilled. It left me in shock, and gave me a shot of adrenaline. I couldn’t exactly put into words the entirety of my emotions as my eyes darted across rows and rows of logs, of diaries. Things that had never been seen by anyone besides me. Things I was now capable of learning myself. The walls appeared infinite, almost literally so - books went on farther than I could see, fading off into black. The entire room was dusty, and the air was thick. There was enough light to make out the covers of some books here and there, but a few were nearly invisible from certain bulbs having gone out. The walls were overgrown with trumpet vines and roses and weeds, leaving a nice contrast of color to the deep, dark brown walls. The library was owned by something inhuman, I’d read. It was stated on the plaque on the wall right before I had reached the room, hanging just next to the door, slightly up. I couldn’t give you a name, as it had been scratched out. I could only assume whatever owned this place before, didn’t want to be recognized for its feats. Some of these books didn’t have titles, while others had complex names that occasionally weren't in English. Some had titles that repeated, and others were scratched out just like the name on the plaque. There were books that ranged from things as casual as metal detecting, to stuff as deep as childhood memories. Mostly memories, though. Pulling out a book about bike riding, I opened it, glossing over the pages. The subject felt familiar to me, for whatever reason, although I never remembered learning to ride a bike. Putting the book back, I searched for something else, in the hopes that I could maybe lose that awkward feeling. One particular book caught my attention. It was yet another one of memories, dated in the early 2000s, something I wouldn’t care about otherwise. Yet I was curious, and I took hold of the book, skimming through pages that also felt familiar. Things that felt like they’d happened to me already. It had subjects surrounding boat rides and fishing, random blurbs of things that were otherwise irrelevant. Some pages were about bugs found in a nearby pond, and others were about blackberries and honeysuckles the writer found fascinating. One page was even highlighted in yellow, talking about the writer’s experience with finding a fish in a stream just behind their house. It was all small, short blurbs of memories with not much significance. All of these writings felt vaguely familiar to me, the same as earlier. Before I had the chance to really question what I was feeling, however, I was knocked out of focus by what sounded like a bang. Something must’ve fallen off the shelves nearby. Eerie, but not worth investigating. Not at the time. I continued to look around the room. More books on the past that I didn’t remember, but felt vague connections to. They all intrigued me, but I had to wonder why. Was it because I was already familiar with these topics once before? I’d never ridden in a boat, nor had I visited any locations near the ones specified in the books - but I was familiar with them. I had vague memories of reading about these places somewhere, I believed, but I couldn’t tell where. Perhaps some sort of infographic? I couldn’t recall. Either way, the memories were there, just not anything the same to what was described in these writings. Putting the book back where it was, my attention was caught by something rustling in the back of the room. Turning to face the sound, which was just behind me, I’d heard footsteps approaching. I didn’t panic, however, as I was aware that this place shouldn’t have been entirely abandoned. Simply clasping my hands together in front of me, I straightened up, hoping to appear approachable rather than as a threat. What approached wasn’t human, and was only what I could assume to be the creature that kept this place how it was. It was all shadow and had no mouth, though it did have two blue eyes that stood out amongst what was otherwise nearly invisible in the dimly lit room. Its hands were also clasped, and it looked only moderately upset at my presence. With a sigh, it stopped in front of me, and began to speak. “So. Are you content with what you’ve found?” Was all it asked, very poised and mature. It was clearly older than me. I was a little shocked that a creature with no mouth could speak, but that wasn’t the craziest thing I had experienced in my life. I couldn’t find an answer through words, so I shrugged, dropping my hands back down to my sides. It seemed somewhat displeased by that, squinting its eyes at me and glancing over at the shelf I stood next to. We stood in silence together, just for a moment, before it spoke up yet again. “My name is Hemlock.” It stated. “I think you find my books interesting, at least. You’ve read a couple, at this point, so I’m sure they intrigue you.” Its eyes fell back on me, and I could feel myself tensing up. Things had started to blur, just a bit, and it messed with my head. “All of your books feel familiar.” Was all I could say for a reply. This made it smile - or, what I figured was smiling - as it nodded his head. “You’re catching on. Do you know who all these books belong to?” It cocked its head to the side, and I felt as though it was staring daggers into me. “You?” I questioned in reply, hesitating as I did so. All I got was a light chuckle from the creature, though it didn’t feel as if it was judging me. Not that I was ever good with social cues. It walked over to me, which admittedly, had freaked me out just a tad. It didn’t seem to pay attention as I flinched, reaching next to me to grab a book instead. The book’s title was very simple, one word even, and it was about moving homes. I noticed, as it reached over, that its hands were like claws. Somehow, despite being nearly invisible, I could see the age on them both. The creature was clearly way older than me. “Technically, it belongs to both of us, me and you. We worked on these books together. I’m shocked you don’t remember - this was our secret, after all.” The creature stated. It left me a little confused, as I didn’t remember being here before. At that moment, I believed it was wrong. “You must be thinking of someone else. I’ve never touched a book in my life, much less written one.” I replied, a small laugh leaving my lips. “No. I am thinking of you, exactly you. I don’t know what name you might go by now, but when we were partners, your name was Core.” It explained. “Must be the amnesia. A lot of the people around here have it, so I would not be shocked if you did too.” Amnesia. I wondered if that was why all of those books felt familiar, even despite not having the life experience. Maybe I’d forgotten it all. Surely Hemlock was wrong, though, wasn’t it? It was fooling me, for whatever reason it may have. I was going to ask why I was the only one who was able to find this place, but before I could speak, Hemlock cut me off. “The reason you’re here, is because I led you here. I wanted you to find this place. You didn’t know on your own, we simply shared thoughts for a while.” It nodded, closing its eyes in contemplation. “How about we sit down and chat? Come have a seat with me.” Before I could really respond, cut off in the middle of an attempt at speaking, Hemlock walked off to a table not too far from where we were. I followed shortly after it, sitting myself down across the table. It was somewhat awkward, yet simultaneously comfortable, although I had no clue why. It seemed there were a lot of things that contradicted each other in this library - it felt unreal. It spoke first. “I’ve watched you for a while. There’s a reason there are so many books here; I know so much about you, and about the people here.” It paused, waiting for a reply. I didn’t give it one. “How does that make you feel?” It asked. I hummed, staring down at my feet that hung slightly off the ground. The chairs were just too tall for me. It took a long period of silence for me to really speak up, and even then, my voice was quiet. “I don’t know what you mean. It makes sense, I guess, since you’re...” I trailed off, motioning with my hands to show just how little this guy’s form made sense to me. It nodded in understanding, though stayed silent. So, I continued on. “Are you implying you’re some sort of deity?” This got him to speak up. He shook his head. “No, no, I’m not a deity of any kind. Maybe compared to you, I would be, but in general? No. I’m the same as you, just with special privileges you don’t have.” I huffed, tilting my head to look at the plant life hanging down the walls. The room felt just a little bigger, despite its already infinite structure. Kind of like space. “So how do I know any of this is real? How do I know you’re not lying to me about these ‘memories’?” I questioned. My tone was harsh, albeit unintentionally. I still didn’t understand anything that was going on, and I wasn’t exactly a believer in magic or any of these shenanigans. Sure, maybe I could have lost my memory through some sort of physical trauma, but casually forgetting an entire life on a whim? Impossible, in my eyes. Hemlock seemed annoyed at me by this point, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. It didn’t take long for him to “snap,” rolling his eyes and, quite literally, snapping his fingers. In an instant I was pulled into some kind of memory, putting myself in a situation that was as clear as day. The boat ride I’d read about; it felt like it had actually happened to me. I was there when it occurred, and I remembered being terrified of how fast the boat was going. Water was already scary enough, but being out on it was a worst fear of mine. The scent of the ocean and the texture of the boat was all so vivid in my mind. It was real. As soon as I snapped out of whatever trance I had been in, I gripped my chest, a little panicked from what felt like a real encounter. Looking up at the thing that had just subjected me to that, I winced, realizing in that moment that perhaps it was right. “So, how was that? Do you understand what I am saying now?” It tilted its head slightly to the side, an uncomfortable expression on its face. “I am not lying. This may seem unreal to you, but I promise, it is the truth. I cannot make up memories, that is beyond my capabilities. I can, however, return them to you as I please. At least, now that you’re in our domain, I am able.” Gathering myself, I let go of the grip on my chest, finally settling down. If what this man said were true, then everything up until this point had been a lie, right? Unless I was somehow living some sort of double life. That wasn’t my only concern, though. If amnesia was so common among the population, what were other people forgetting? “What about everyone else? You said other people experience this amnesia too, right? Do you have their memories here too?” I was worried I was asking too many questions, but Hemlock didn’t seem to mind. “Their memories are stored here as well, yes. They will get those memories when they deserve them. The same as you.” Its eyes indicated that it was at least conceptually smiling, and I could do nothing but stare. While I stayed silent, Hemlock continued on. “Would now be a bad time to tell you that you all share the same memories?” Surprisingly, I felt nothing at this revelation. No shock, no excitement. If anything, it felt somewhat typical, for whatever reason. “So, you’re telling me we’re all the same person?” I asked, my words calm despite the situation. “Not really. In a way, yes - but also, no. You are all still your own people, the memories are simply shared.” It replied, with an equal amount of calm. “I am surprised you’re so relaxed about this. Normally, people panic.” I shrugged. I also had no clue why I wasn’t as shocked as I probably should be. Then again, when you’re already told you had a second life you completely forgot about, is anything really a surprise after that? I readjusted in my seat a little bit before I came up with a proper response, deciding that now would be a good time to go home. “I want to go home now.” Was all I said. Hemlock’s smile faded, and he closed his eyes, motioning with one hand to a door that was nearby. It wasn’t the same one I’d come in from, but it was labeled “exit” in big, bold, red letters. “If you wish to leave, go through there. Although I do want you to know that you can always come back, from this point forward.” It said, standing up and reaching in its pocket for something. Out came a set of keys, which I assumed would unlock every door leading up to this point. It handed them to me, bowing as it did so. “Thank you.” I hesitated, but took the keys from it anyways. I didn’t exactly plan on coming back, but... “It was nice getting to see you again, Core.” It spoke, before I could finish my thoughts. Looking away from the keys, which I’d zoned out while staring at, I noticed Hemlock was smiling again. It looked upset; not that I planned on comforting it. I didn’t know this guy, as far as I could remember. “Yes. It was nice getting to know you as well.” Was all I could come up with for a reply, as I looked away and headed towards the exit. Taking one last glance at Hemlock, I nodded, and so did he. Without a single emotion, except maybe a mild sadness, I headed out that door, and... Suddenly I woke up again, to where I am now. I am sitting in a small room, with little décor and a surprising lack of cleanliness. I don’t remember being this dirty, but I also don’t remember this place at all. I was never here, but this body felt like mine. Even if the long hair and dirty clothes don’t fit my personality at all. I stand, and I make my way to the bathroom. I stare at the reflection in the mirror for a moment, and something clicks. This is what Hemlock meant when it said I have amnesia, isn’t it? I’m back home, but this isn’t the home I so carefully put together in my mind. This is a home that once belonged to somebody else. I don’t exactly know if I’m meant to be here. Maybe that library of memories will serve a purpose after all.


Just as my favorite Valentine’s Day mug reaches my mouth, I hear a thunderous collision of falling boxes; followed by a yelp from my sister. Ugh, I moan inwardly to myself. I haven’t even experienced this exquisite coffee yet. I slowly meander to the attic. My sister is seated on the floor with an array of spilled boxes around her. She smiles up at me attempting to appear innocent. She sheepishly admits to getting a little carried away. She gazes across her mess of memorabilia and realizes she had way too many boxes on her trek across the attic. Her excuse being she just wanted to sit down while perusing through the treasures. I begin collecting some of the items that fell out of the largest box. “What’s this?” I ask as I turn the aged box over in my hands. It is an old, heart-shaped box with faded words that read, “Our first Valentine’s Day”. It has one of those old diary locks on it. The ones that all have the same keyhole and can easily be broken into. A magnet to intruders of secrets we attempt to hold close. Jamie gazes up from an old photo album she is looking through. A faraway look in her eyes as she answers. “Not sure, but if you sit down and open it, we just might find out.” I toss it back into the box and continue cleaning up the rest of the items. “LeAnn” she drawls out in a whiny tone. “Please just take a quick trip down memory lane with me.” She pats the floor next to her as she scoots some memorabilia over to make space for me. “Why must we go through moms’ old things today? She has been gone for almost seven months so why now, on Valentine's Day?” My shoulders slump as my mother’s pained face flashes across my memory. I quickly change the subject by teasing my sister. “Twenty-two years old and you don’t have a steamy date to get ready for on this night of unrequited love.” She rolls her eyes and starts her explanation, unintentionally bringing my reluctant mind back around to my mother’s heart attack. The heart attack that managed to rip her away from us much too soon. My sister continues talking nonchalantly, never grasping even a glimpse of the pain I’m stuffing back into its box, where it belongs. A box not much different than the one in my hands. Both boxes with their flimsy locks, much too easy to open. “You know that Mom always tried to make us feel extra loved and extra special on Valentines’ Day.” This helps to disrupt the nagging grief attempting to drag me back to that day. We make eye contact and drone in unison, “Now you girls should know better, Valentine’s Day isn’t just for the romantics.” We stifle our giggles as we both reminisce. Mom expressed her thoughts on love to us every Valentine’s Day as far back as I can remember. She would always start with the line regarding romantics. She would throw in snippets here and there about how the day was created to honor one of the most important human needs. Descriptions on all the various ways we crave and disperse love to each other. The Valentines’ Day speech would conclude once all three of us were together on the couch, cuddled up, gorging on chocolates as we watched a sappy love story unfold in the latest romantic movie. In response to Jaime’s rendition of Mom’s speech I say, “I get it, but I just don’t want to visit the past today.” On the inside I’m reminded by a quick jab of grief as I realize, I already have visited the past unwillingly. She looks up at me with a look that says, “then don’t, but I am.” Ignoring the resentment I feel towards her joyful exploration of the past. I blow out a rush of air and then saunter over to the partially cleared area beside her. I acquiesce and pull the heart box out again. “Should we open it” I ask. She shrugs her shoulders and continues looking at old photos. I pause and ponder the consequences of seeing something that could scar us and then I finally say awkwardly, “what if it’s something um inappropriate?” Jamie laughs, “yeah right. When have you known mom to even have a love interest? Other than that, one old guy everyone is obsessed with in the movies. What was his name again? John? No. George... something...” As she drones on trying to figure out his name, I visit a moment in time when mom talked about being in love. She admitted to being in love once but was devastated by her love interest’s death, ending their fleeting love story. I decide to push old memories to the far corners of my mind, again. “I leap up while exclaiming, “Okay let’s find the key.” She points to a couple of boxes strewn across the walkway of the attic. I start to skim through them in search of a key. I find everything but the key. There are old photos of Jamie and I during our birthdays and Christmas. I even come across some photos from our angsty teenage years. Those gems need to be hidden quickly. I uncover old pottery, crafts, and scrapbooks we had made throughout the years. Each memorable item reminding me that I was tremendously blessed in the parent department. Mom made every miniscule moment seem like it was exceptional. “Aha it’s here!” Jamie cries out with exuberance. She darts over to me. Her excitement is contagious. I release the lock. I pause and ensure that Jamie still thinks we should open it. The younger, more carefree of the two of us responds with an encouragement for me to quickly open it. I lift the lid and I am surprised to find what appears to be important documents of some sort. I don’t have time to finish my thought as to why this valentine box would have paperwork in it before Jamie lifts the documents up. Under the paperwork lies various photos and a worn journal. I graze the cover with my fingertips. I am entranced by the thought of reading my mothers’ thoughts. I gently place the journal on the floor and lift a photo. There I am three years old cheesing for the camera. An infant wrapped in a pink blanket in my dainty arms. Mom is helping me support the baby’s head in the photo. She is looking at us with such joy in this photo. I start to experience that longing for my mother. The one that never quite disappears. It just ebbs and flows as the days go by. Jaime breaks into my nostalgia, “Oh, these are our adoption papers. The date is Valentine’s Day! Do you believe Mom adopted us on Valentine’s Day?” The importance of the day all begins to make sense. She had told us so many times that she knew she was meant to be a mother and that is the reason we were given to her. She had tremendous amounts of love reserved for my sister and I before she had even met us. She had never mentioned that we arrived in her life on any specific day though. I bounce up with new fervor, holding the tattered journal. I state with an ere of confidence, “Jaime get the chocolates. I have the perfect love story for our Valentine’s Day tradition.”


I walk out of the interview room. “Cut the cameras” “But bos-“ “Cut the fucking cameras” I walk back into the room. “$50 says he cracks him” one of the detectives says to an officer. “you’re on” the officer replies. I sit down across from the suspect. “You know I know your type” I state, borderline glaring into his eyes. “as soon as I walked into this room I could smell you - this undeniable stench. It disgusts me.” He says nothing. “I walk into the holding cells here and I’m saturated by it.” “It’s the smell of a liar. A manipulator. A man without a conscience” I wait a few seconds. “and you know who I smelt this smell on first?” I think I notice a slight change in his facial expression, but he says nothing. I lean in and whisper into his ear. “Myself” I sit back into my chair. “it’s the smell of a psychopath” I get up from my seat and start pacing the room. “Now I was smart enough to realise I should work for the right side of the law” “and honestly I’m intrigued by people like you because it’s sometimes like looking into an alternate reality” “where you’re me..... A more fucked up version of myself” “So that’s why I’m so good at understanding people like you - because I have spent my whole life living with myself and this.... stench” “I used to hate it - how it oozed out of my every pore - how no matter what I did to clean myself, I could never get rid of this disgusting odor” “But I soon realized that only I could smell it - that this curse was mine, and only mine. It only existed to me, and only I could experience it.” “and I came to realize that this...stench.........wasn’t a curse” “it was a privilege” I get up and leave the room. The suspect slowly rests his head onto the table. We watch on. Waiting. He raises his head. “alright I’ll talk” he says, and I notice tears ever so slightly welling up underneath his eyes. “fuck who ever thought psychopaths were intelligent” I state I smile and go back into the room. “Do you think she’s real?” he asks me “Do I think who is real?” I question back “Her.” A few seconds go by, I’m starting to feel less confident now. “You know its like I live in two realities - one where she is exists and one where she doesn’t” he continues “She’s Schrodinger’s cat - she’s both alive and dead because I cant open the box” “She’s the duality between a particle and a wave” He leans in. “Every time I try and find out what reality in she makes sure I can’t. there’s no way right now I can be sure what reality is real - whether she’s alive or dead.” He shits back into his chair. “I don’t feel crazy. I have felt sane for a while now. For years.” “do you think it’s fair to spend years of your life not being able to know if you’re dreaming or awake?” “I’m not sure, what have you done?” I question him. “I’m not sure exactly. Ask her - if you can convince her to tell the truth.” “But I think in both realities - she’s just too scared.” “and I’m not sure if I could handle the truth. Maybe this duality is more peaceful than the prospect of her death.” I get up and go to leave the room but he continues talking. “She’s like a virus but I didn’t know and now I can’t get rid of her.” “What if in 15 years I’m married and have got kids - what if I still can’t get rid of this disease?” “I almost feel like I’ve adapted to it. Like I just know how to survive with this sickness now.” “But I’m just not sure what the point is sir - a virus destroys right - is she just trying to ruin me?” He looks down into his lap, shadows covering his face. “I just want to know the truth - I want to know whats real - but I’m not prepared for what I might be told.” Tears cascading down his cheeks.


He watched the boy stare at the caged birds from the balcony he was on. The boy had been staring, wordless and clenching his jaws, at the caged birds on the roof of the opposite house. Kulak knew that the boy was thinking about freeing those birds but there was a dangerous obstacle before him. There was a grey ledge about a metre long from the balcony the boy was on and after that arose a stretch of nothingness for about three metres. Kulak shivered in glee as he saw the boy bang his fist against the hard cement. He knew that the boy had allowed anger to conquer his mind. And Kulak knew that anger could be a very strange and powerful thing in circumstances such as this. A chilly breeze flew through the area and immediately Kulak knew that the All-Father was watching from far away on a branch of his own. Odin had cast his gaze, from his perch atop Yggdrasil the World Tree, directly at the boy. He knew that the old man would be conjuring up a Rune for a blessing if the boy did what was on his mind. Kulak also felt the presence of the invisible, formless creatures that had gathered in the air around the vicinity. He knew that these were mystical beings that were indigenous to this beautiful island called Sri Lanka. Sometimes he felt their gaze on him as well but when this happened he could feel them as if they were very far away. Cheaky little fellas. Kulak slid his beak across the branch and ruffled the black feathers on his back. This was going to be an interesting day because he would have to be silent for this entire experience. The boy should not realise that he was being watched as that could change the entire line of dominoes that was about to fall. There were forces that the boy could not see or comprehend at the moment because he was blinded with the rage that was bubbling in him. Kulak also noticed that there was one more detail that needed consideration. In between the two cages was a flag that swayed in the breeze. It was the multi-coloured, striped Buddhist flag. This indicated that whoever owned the roof atop which these cages were placed were Buddhist in faith. The raven wondered how a family of humans who claimed to be Buddhists could go to the length of imprisoning birds. Caging an animal that was winged and enjoyed the gift of natural flight was heinous in his mind. After all these were his brethren, though not of his own bloodline. And then it happened. Kulak edged forward and gripped the branch a little bit tighter. The wind picked up and whistled with expectation. Odin chuckled with merry and jabbed his spear into the air. A knee emerged over the edge of the balcony and in a swift jump the boy jumped over the tiny wall. He immediately darted towards the edge of the ledge and stared across the gap. The boy licked his lips and clenched his palms into fists. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and walked a few steps back to the wall. The eyelids rose and his gaze locked itself on to the edge of the roof. And then Kulak did something he usually never does. He interfered. He flew across the thermals and landed on the roof of the cage directly in the boys line of sight. The boys eyes locked with his. The boys eyes narrowed as he looked at Kulak and his lips parted. The raven then cleaned his beak by sliding it across the metal edge of the slate of the roof and brandished both sides of his beak vigorously against its surface. He then raised his beak towards the sky and made a swallowing motion with his throat. And then Kulak immediately looked at the boy, spread his wings and returned to the shadows that sheltered within the branches on the tree from which he had alighted. The wind suddenly increased in strength and whipped around the boy flicking his hair and ruffling his clothes. Odin had gasped and placed his palm across his mouth in shock. Would the boy get it? It was a long shot. The boy breathed in once more and he grimaced, bracing against the pelting of the wind. He grunted, expelling air, and took off across the expanse of the ledge. At the very edge he threw himself forward and leaped across a stretch of potential death. His chest thudded and crashed into the edge of the fated roof and he grabbed onto a bar of iron twisting out of the cement. With both hands he hurled himself up and over, sprawled on the roof of destiny. A storey below him two children slumbered and one of them dreamt of a knight atop a horse tearing through a stream of soldiers with a spear. The boy slowly rose to his feet with a wide grin plastered across his lips. He scanned the first cage and almost immediately began pulling at the beams and strips around the edges of the roof. He pulled with care as he didn’t want to make any sound which might alert the owners of the cages. It was at this point that Kulak suddenly felt a strong, powerful force enter the vicinity. It was formless and invisible like the creatures that were watching but it was some kind of higher entity. Kulak could feel it’s watchful gaze penetrating into the boys mind and searching his intentions. This was some kind of mystical deity who had become enthralled by the actions of the boy and had now come to watch the dominoes fall. Kulak instinctively knew that this was a very ancient being. There was something about it’s aura that made Kulak feel it had been here before raven or man had even been born. It was a being that was indigenous to this island and it knew its every nook and cranny. Kulak felt the entity slide into the canopy of the tree he was on and settle into the sunlight kissed branches. With a sharp crack the straps and beams came undone and the boy slowly lifted the metal sheets that made up the roof of the cage. Sunlight filtered into the open cage and Kulak knew the birds inside were contemplating this sudden development. With a sudden rush of wings and an ecstatic beating of hearts the birds erupted out of their damaged prison and rose into the sky. The boy felt his heart soar and a nervous laugh escaped his lips. Within a few minutes he had broken open the roof of the second cage and a second exodus spilled forth into the misty blue wastes of the open sky. Kulak could hear Odin scratching his beard as the old man completed the transference of the blessing of the Rune he had prepared for the boy. One day if the boy was ever trapped in any kind of circumstance the Rune would find a way to free him. Kulak finally cawed and shook his wings as the boy let out a shout of exhilaration into the air. The wind died down. Odin looked away, content with his blessing and the invisible creatures gradually crept away. The powerful entity which had been watching from the canopy rose into the air and kulak could feel his presence slowly wane away like the setting of the sun. He cawed once more and cast his eyes towards the boy. Far away, decades from now he would have no way of realising that the rebels to his dominion over this island had on that fateful day been sleeping beneath him, dreaming of knights, death and war. *** “The birds are gone. Someone has freed them,” the father said and buried his head in his hands. He rubbed the back of his neck as worry and despair invaded his mind, destroying the delicate sense of stability he had been building over the last few years. The mother stared at the white table cloth before them, a small film of tears resting on her eyes. “Those birds were our entire livelihood. Without the money we get from selling them we have no way to feed our children,” whispered the mother. She grabbed her husbands hand and stared into his eyes, fear and uncertainty striking deep into her heart. “How will we feed them?” The father looked away unable to bear her pain. Darkness had descended and all hope was lost. They heard a crow caw from outside the window. It cawed once, twice, thrice and then with a beating of its wings it was gone.


Song of the Wind By: Ann Yuan “Just listen to the song of the wind.” I was standing at the entrance of a corn maze when I heard that soft voice. Jane'd taken Terrence to have the adventure that he had a longing for. Looking around, I only saw a woman standing six feet from me. Her lips trembled, as though whispering to herself. “Excuse me, Ma'am?” Given the fact that I was the only person within the earshot, I was obliged to say something. But I didn’t how to start a conversation. “Did you hear it?” She asked without turning her head. All other children and parents had rushed into the maze. A few heads bobbed up and down in the forest of corn stalks, giggling and shouting gaily on their way going down the path. A few corns, fortunately, missed by farmer’s hands, remained on the stalks to wither and die. “Yeah, I hear it.” I grinned. “Kids can be wild inside the maze, even adults--”. “No, not that,” she interrupted. The woman had short silver hair, a heather cardigan, and black cropped pants. I figured she was a grandma bringing her third generation to the farm to enjoy the warm sun and fresh air. That must be it. She turned to me and asked again, “did you hear the song of the wind?” What kind of question was that? I couldn’t help but be alerted. Her eyes were gray-blue yet her face was blank -- no amiable smile of an indulgent grandparent, no resentful expression leftover from a bitter fight with a foolish husband. Not even the weariness and tedium that often were hidden very well by people in her age. “Ma'am, huh....are you a poet?” I faked a chuckle, trying to find some explanation. “Why do people enter a labyrinth, even though they know, eventually, they will get lost?” She ignored me and pushed another question. Speechless and uncomfortable, I shifted my weight from one leg to the other, hands tucked in pant pockets. The parking lot was empty, so was my head. Nothing could bring the distraction, aka the rescue, to save me from facing this woman alone, and answering her weird questions. I could simply leave and go back to my car, which was socially inappropriate, even rude. Just hang on for a few more minutes, the kids would be out soon, and this place would be swamped like a fish tank in a pet store. “Does your child enjoy the maze?” Finally a real question, a question that I'd begged for. “Oh, yes! Terrence, my son, loves this place. He’s so good at it, it's amazing, sometimes his mother needs his help.” As soon as I started talking, words just spewed out. It was like I drifted away in a river out to an unknown place, I started telling this woman my life story. Terrence, unlike me, is a quiet boy. He likes to draw, spending hours on his sketch notebook. So my wife and I would like to bring him to play outside, as suggested by his pediatrician. We drove about an hour to get here, but it was worth it; the hayride, corn maze...I loved it too. I grew up in a metro area. There were no farms, no cornfields or apple trees, only roads, crammed with tiny houses, and climbed up slopes like cobra raising its head. In the distance, the houses were just like matchboxes stacked on top of each other. I imagined there was a secret tunnel inside which magnetic levitation transporters convey people from one house to another. After school, I usually went biking with my friends. The streets were curved, bending, and zigzagging, just like a maze. There was a whiff of heated asphalt, mixed with smells of over-ripened fruits, sitting in the corner, waiting to bewitch passer-by into the wrong direction. But I always find my way home. There was just one time that I was afraid I didn’t know that place anymore. My mom and dad still live there. Three years ago, I brought Terrence to see his grandparents. After dinner, I decided to walk around. I followed the old bike route, sauntering about the neighborhood. The streets seemed narrow and murky. I thought it was altered because of the dimming light. Several blocks later, the views have changed. Houses were remodeled and put on different paintings, new neighbors glanced at me like a total stranger. Moving forward, I was unnerved. I kept looking back, trying to remember the way I came from. In the end, I knew I was lost. I couldn’t find my way back, I couldn’t find the place where I was born in. I blurted out all the stuff to avoid the awkward situation, to ease my nervousness, or, for unknown reasons I believed I should tell this old woman about that incident which I didn’t even tell Jane. It was so natural though, like a speech that I had long prepared just for this circumstance. I wouldn’t stop myself had she not let out a long sigh, trailing with a soft chuckle. “She walked in there and never came out,” she said. “Who?!” I tried to control my voice. “Your child? I mean, your grandchild? It’s impossible. This is a kid-friendly place. We came here every year, it’s --” “I waited and waited. Sometimes I thought, maybe I was the one who was lost. She’s already worked her way out from another exit. She doesn’t need to come back to me anymore,” She continued, didn’t answer any of my questions, and probably didn’t care about my existence. My scalp tightened up, goosebumps creeping up on my arms. A breeze picked up, dry and crisp Autumn air brushing my face. Right at that moment, I heard the sound of the wind. No mistake, it’s the sound of the wind, mellow yet venomous. It was there since the first day, sitting in the corners, ready to bewitch passer-by and lure them away. I lunged into the maze, yelling out “Jane, Terrence!” A dark shallow appeared from the back of a corn stalk. Terrence was right in my face, flailing his arms around and trying to climb on my legs. I hugged him tight until he whined and pushed me back. “He found the exit in a second but he just won’t come out.” Jane smiled at us. I said nothing, slung him up to let him sit astride on my shoulders. As I pulled my car out of the parking lot. I glanced back to the corn maze. She was nowhere to be seen, all that was left was a mall of corn stalks quivering in the wind. They must have sung a melody, but inside the car, I heard nothing.


Extinction. There’s a certain finality to the word, that summons a primordial sense of dread and doom to the core of our being. It means the end of a species. Not just the happenstance death of a few individuals you don’t even know, but the final, irreversible end of an entire world population of a species, meaning there would never be such a life form ever again. Uniqueness, lost forever due to the very trait that made it so special in the first place. Extinction is happening all the time. It didn’t just happen to the dinosaurs and it doesn’t just happen in sci-fi movies. It’s probably happening right now, to some species we don’t even know exists, likely a tiny bacteria living in the depths of Earth’s oceans. A tiny bacteria. A badass warrior that we all owe our lives to, for kick-starting our evolution and for terraforming Earth into a life-sustaining planet. But a bacteria is not a dolphin or an elephant, so nobody cares. You can’t take a picture with a bacteria and post it on social media. You can’t even see it with your naked eyes and yet the combined mass of all the bacteria on Earth heavily outweighs the mass of every other animal and plant that you can see. Next to the sun and the elements, the bacteria is the first link in the food chain. That precious dolphin or elephant would never have existed if the bacteria was removed. Yet humans pretend otherwise. There’ve been major extinctions in the past, five big ones, to be precise. One nearly destroyed all life on the planet. Another killed the ruling class and gave room for us to evolve. Extinction is not a bad word. Nor is it a good one. It is a tool of nature and just like any tool, it can either destroy or create. Nature can give life and nature can take life away. The degree to which we care about that life is the degree to which it either promotes or threatens our survival. Would you care if a nameless bacteria died in an ocean? Even if it’s responsible for making your atmosphere breathable, even if it provides food for everything above it? What if your pet’s species went extinct? Would you care? What if you go extinct? The answers are tied to your survival, either physical, emotional, or intellectual. You care only as long as it helps you, by either keeping you alive or making you feel good about yourself. You don’t truly care for other life, because selfishness is genetically encoded in your DNA. Don’t believe me? Do you cry when your skin cells die? Each of them is a living entity, but do you mourn when one of the billions of cells that comprise your body dies? Do you even notice it? That’s how selfish you are. And it’s neither a good thing nor a bad thing. All life is made that way - that’s what life is . At least, what we mean by ‘biological organism’. Realize that you could not be alive if you were selfless. If your cells would be equally accepting of all other organisms, from the bacteria in the sea to the elephant in the zoo, your body would fall apart and become food to sustain them. You’d love them so much you’d give your whole being to them, instead of the one dollar you pay monthly for a preservation cause. So don’t pretend you’re selfless. Don’t pretend you care. Admit your selfishness to yourself for that is the only path on which genuine compassion can begin. Only if you accept the selfish creature that you are, accept it for what it is, can you begin to develop true compassion. And only then can you start taking care of the most endangered species on the planet. Do you know what that species is? It’s you. Homo Sapiens Nescium. The unconscious human. You’re simultaneously the greatest danger to the universe as well as its greatest gift. And you are facing extinction. No black hole, no big rip, or other doom theory for the universe can come close to the destructive power of your selfish ego. And no star forgery, big bang, or any other creation theory carries more compassion and love than your heart is capable of. But the problem is that you’re unconscious. Your ego rules and your heart is enslaved to your mind. This is the reason why you are the most endangered species and why you’ll go extinct if you continue on this path. No other life form, as far as we know it, has an ego to such a degree that we do - it’s actually a gift, but we’ve turned it into a curse. You see, the unconscious ‘common’ man is endangered. He is destroying his world, his race, his life. He lets others dictate his thoughts and feelings, he is a sheep, a puppet. And what's worse, he has convinced himself that he is not controlled by others, that the things he values are the products of his own flawless and uncorrupted reasoning. The unconscious man is the devil, his unconsciousness the very vehicle of evil. For in his ignorance, which he has interpreted as knowing and understanding, he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing. He believes what he has been told blindly, like a naive little child who has no experience of the world. He believes in the answers his mind provides for him and he interprets the world based not on what he perceives with his senses, but based on what he thinks he perceives with his sense. The unconscious man lives in augmented reality, which he calls his life, the only reality that he thinks is true and real. He is much like a character in a video game, unaware of the fact that his existence is a figment of imagination of a much higher being. You are a figment of your own imagination. You’ve never met yourself, all you’ve seen is the person who your mind thinks you are. Homo Sapiens Nescium. The one that has problems in life. The one that wants things, but cannot get them. The one that suffers and is pained by existence, while joy and happiness seem like foreign myths. The unconscious condition of Homo Sapiens Nescium is by far the worst pandemic ever to hit humanity. It claims lives in the billions . Lives that could be, lives of fulfilled dreams and joy and peace. Harmony with oneself and with the world. An united humanity, where hate, selfishness and suffering are reserved for works of fiction. That’s what the unconsciousness pandemic claims, among other things. Luckily, the world is changing. It has been changing for a long time, quietly, from generation to generation, one lifetime at a time, one individual’s choice after another. Now, the change is beginning to become noticeable. The momentum has started picking up the pace. A new kind of man is emerging, a conscious man. A growing man, one that realizes he doesn’t know himself and he does everything he can to find himself. A self-actualizing man. A hero. This man is nothing new, for he had existed for just as long as the unconscious man did. But never before has the world been so connected as it is today, never before in history did the conscious man have access to communicate his message with so many unconscious people. This new man threatens the unconscious man, but not in a hostile or aggressive way. He threatens him simply by existing, for he shows the unconscious man his deepest flaws and failings of reason. The new man is searching for a solution, while the unconscious man believes he already has it - while in truth, he does not. The unconscious man has only fooled himself into thinking that he does. And it is this foolishness that will ultimately cause his extinction. If he does not begin to realize that he doesn’t know himself or the world, the unconscious man will perish. He will be nothing more than a farm animal, docile and obedient, serving to drive the dreams of others with his cheap labor and inability to perceive a different possibility for himself. And this is how it should be - the unconscious man should die. He should not be preserved, just as cancer tissue should not be allowed to spread through the body. He should be studied and given full attention to, for his condition is mortally threatening to us all. His species’ time is numbered and to those of his kind that genuinely see their mistake, they should be helped. Others, who think they’ve got it all figured out already, should be ignored and kept at arm's length. The unconscious man will not die without a fight, and his unconsciousness will make the fight terrifyingly devastating, if not handled with the utmost awareness. Maintaining the status quo, ‘returning things to normal’, being safe in numbers, being right by the shared opinions of the many, amassing means of survival for oneself... These are all the weapons of the unconscious man and he will not hesitate to use them to preserve himself. He will do anything to keep himself in the dark, to stay unconscious, to maintain the illusion that he already knows everything he needs to. The biggest threat to the ego is what does not directly promote its survival. A gun to the head, a new discovery that threatens the old paradigm, realizing the truth of oneself. When self-agenda goes against the truth, the ego’s choice is a no-brainer. Literally. The ego doesn’t even consider it could ever be wrong. It cannot be wrong. It knows what’s best for you and it can prove it by the fact that it has kept you alive up until now. Can you argue with that proof? Of course not. The ego’s got you by the balls, or by the ovaries. But while it might have kept you alive so far, how’s that life worked out for you? Are you so fulfilled with it that you could die tomorrow and be okay with that? If not, then you’re unconscious, much like the vast majority of the human species. Vast, meaning 99,99%. Do you think cavemen were ignorant because they didn’t know why the winds blew? Do you think people from medieval ages were ignorant because they believed in witchcraft, burning people by the thousands? Do you think tribesmen in Africa are ignorant because they didn’t go to school? No, our level of ignorance is the same as theirs. We never left the Dark Ages. We’re as ignorant as we ever were - even worse so because we’ve masked our ignorance with reason and logic. Technological advancement does not equate to ‘banishment of ignorance’. Acquiring knowledge does not equate to true knowing. Improving the outer circumstances of your life does not improve your inner world. Today, we’re living in the Age of Delusion , Rationality is our God and Business is our moral code of conduct. Unconsciousness is the most valued state of being, Symbols are more valuable than the things they represent. The Ego has been set loose upon the world, killing its own Mother Earth for profit, and is now turning its eyes toward the stars, to spread itself like a cancer until all of the universe is under its dominance. Sounds like some dystopian science fiction premise, right? But then again, is dystopian science fiction mere entertainment, or is it a warning, a prophet of doom in disguise? What’s more trustworthy, the ‘facts’ provided by the institutions who don’t even realize they're unconscious, or ‘fiction’ dreamt up by individuals who feel like their voices need to be heard, who feel they’ve tapped into something that should be shared? Could it be that fact and fiction are different sides of the same coin? Witchcraft was a fact in medieval times. Today, it’s fiction. The Earth revolving around the sun used to be a fiction in the past. Today, it’s a fact. It’s all perspective, all arbitrary. ‘Facts’ are worth no more than a passing thought in a child’s mind as he plays in his sandbox. Without knowing the mind that came up with the fact, without understanding the limits of the logic that supports a premise, a fact has no more inherent ‘truth’ in it than fiction does. Realize that with logic you can win an argument even if your argument is factually wrong . All logic is based on some premise, on some ‘thing’ that you arbitrarily ascribe truth to and if that premise is flawed, then no amount of logic or reasoning can ever take you to the right answer. If you firmly believe in the existence of a God, then no amount of scientific evidence can shake your logic, for you have decided that your premise is flawless. And if you firmly believe in science, then no amount of miracles will deter your logic, for your premise does not allow miracles to even exist. The tragedy of the unconscious man is that he does not know, what he does not know. You don’t know what you don’t know. How could you? If you knew what you don’t know, then you’d know everything. But you know nothing, Jon Snow. You think you know yourself because you can spell your name? The name is a symbol, a word your parents used so they could call you to the table for dinner. You think you know yourself because you can tell me your likes and dislikes, your dreams and passions, your fears and insecurities? Most people don’t even know those, but even those who do, how do they know their likes and dislikes are their own? How do you know your values are truly yours and have not been given to you by your parents, society, culture, religion...? How do you know that what you know is true? Do you verify it on Wikipedia? Do you ask a scientist with a Ph.D.? Do you ask your parents, your God, your friends? Do you contemplate the answers yourself? Questions. It is by questioning that the unconscious man begins his climb out of the darkness. But you won’t ask questions if you believe you already have the answers. And you will not dig deep enough to find the truth of your question if you settle for the first answer that comes your way. That’s why it’s so hard for the unconscious man to even begin to change. He has no solid ground upon which to stand, he isn’t sure who to trust, what’s real and what’s not. He has to create a clearing in his mind where he can hopefully catch a glimpse of the real world. A crack in the Matrix. A glitch in his augmented reality. A moment of peace in the ever noisy mind-chatter of his ADD brain. You say, ‘Wait a minute. Something’s not right here. What am I doing with my life?’ And just like that, with the rise of the first question, a whole new cosmos of possibility opens up. The unconscious man glimpses a tiny circle of light above his head - the exit from his cave of ignorance, the light at the end of the tunnel. Of course, you have to take every single word you read with a grain of salt. I’m also a member of the Homo Sapiens Nescium race, I’m also unconscious. My ego has me by the balls and if I were to die tomorrow I’d be far from okay with it today. But I’ve been lucky enough to have seen a glimpse of the exit. A way out has been presented to me and it would take no more than a blink of an eye and I’d never seen it. How many glimpses have you been presented with in your life, but you blinked with your mind at the worst time? How many chances were you given to climb out of the hole, how many opportunities to question? Maybe you’ve even started the climb. Maybe you’re not far from the exit. If you do ever get out and step into the light, if you become the conscious man (or woman), then it's your duty to reach a helping hand to those who’re still climbing. But remember, an organism that is threatened with extinction will do anything to keep itself alive and the unconscious man is a master at just that, staying alive. Keep your feet firm on the ground and do not let yourself be pulled back under. Honor the chance at life that you’ve been given, by actually living it. Because, for all the immortality of your soul, this life that you have right now will never be lived again, so why squander such a gift? Be a hero. Be conscious. Your life and the world will thank you for it.


The sun was particularly harsh today but the pickles seemed happy and bubbly, yawning as I opened the lids of their jars to spread them out. Their cheerfulness rubbed off on me too. The secret consignment of mangoes that I had received that morning was also partially responsible for my joy. It had been raining for days on end, a spell that made one wonder if the sun had somehow been extinguished by a gutsy gale. But it had now returned and brought along with it the hope of father's return. He had been gone for a month now. Clearly, the celebrations must have extended beyond her birthday, as they usually did except the two times my siblings had died. Those years had been quiet. I hope father hadn't landed on one of those. For all its magic, the court astronomer was yet to fix the year selection on his machine. At least it got the day right. I couldn't bear to think what would happen if he landed on the fateful night of my mother's death. It had been one of my recurring nightmares, which was strange considering I had lived through it. *** I can't forget the screams that pierced through the air as my mother fought to give birth to my baby sister. A few hours later, she fell quiet. The life drained out of her along with the blood. And along with the four promises she made him make, it seemed like she took father's spirit away too. The burial was harried and not something a empress of her stature deserved. But that's all I could arrange for. My father had locked himself up in his chambers and over the next year, all we heard of him were shrieking cries. Only his trusted aide was allowed to bring him food--a simple fare of rice and lentils that he would have scoffed at earlier. The day he emerged from his hiding, he was a mere shadow of the man. His disheveled hair was a shock of white and his eyes dug deep into their sockets. He looked like a madman, bent at the waist, dressed in tatters with eyes that flitted about in all directions. The first day he held court, he couldn't form a coherent sentence and whispers of a dethronement reached me soon enough. That's when I jumped in. Acting on his promise to my mother to build her a mausoleum, I took along the court architect to visit him. Over the next 18 years, architects and artistes were commissioned from all over the world to help complete a piece of paradise, as my father put it. I saw, built before my eyes, a marvel in white marble. I saw the joy returning to my father's face as he disinterred my mother's remains and had them placed in a place he had painstakingly selected. I also saw how it took a toll on the royal coffers. But it was a sight to behold. The poets wrote verses on its beauty and the sick said it healed them. The rich said it humbled them and the poor said it gave them hope. But to me, it was only a pretty looking, expensive building that had kept my father distracted. In hindsight, I hoped that he had instead had the time machine commissioned to meet his beloved wife. Because within a few years of the mausoleum's completion, he felt gravely ill. For my brothers, it was excuse to claim the throne which is what they did. To my dismay, the brother who won the battle, was someone I had always disliked. True to character, he had father placed under house arrest immediately, under the pretext of his treatment. Over the next few months, I nursed him back to health but he was never welcomed back to the palace. That was when I learnt to sneak in father's favourites for him. At first, it was just medicines and fruits that he needed but was denied. Later on, I could bring in people without anyone suspecting anything. The guards hated my brother anyway. And it was one such evening, during a party with secret guests, that my father wished that he could travel back in time. The court astronomers, each a scholar in their own right, took it on as a challenge. Four years later, we had a contraption that could traverse the waters of time. I had tried it first but due to the anomaly, was thrown to a birthday when I was a mere toddler. After having my parents fuss over me for weeks, the return home was disappointing to say the least. My aged father had shrunk further with worry about my return. But once I had ascertained it was safe, he could wait to climb in and go. This was his third trip. *** The room with the open roof was empty, as I had kept it since my father's departure. Landings were never his strongest suit. The last time he was visiting mother, he had spent the whole time there tending to his injuries. But she had been happy to see him keep yet another promise--that of being there by her side on every birthday. The day was darkening and the mausoleum appeared to be a blush pink. I was just about to start lighting up the lamps when I saw a glimmer in the sky which grew and grew until it hit the room's floor with a terrifying thud. I couldn't immediately rush in because the astronomers had warned us of contamination but as soon as the warmth of the landing subsided, I went in running. Father was in a really bad shape. One of his eyes was closed shut by the grotesque purple swelling and the gash on his lips was bleeding. His face was a mask of pain and terror and for the second time in my life, I was sure I'd lose him. *** That night I smuggled in an army of medicine men, who tended to his injuries and tried to bring his temperature down. But by the time the first light of morning broke, father was sound asleep. When he woke up that night, he was still a man possessed. While his eye and lips were in a much better state now and he didn't have fever, he was a study in worry. I sliced up some mangoes and brought it to him. When even the yellow flesh of his favourite fruit couldn't bring him out of his misery, I knew something was amiss. Perhaps he had landed on one of the bad years and couldn't return due to the clouds. But no amount of prodding yielded answers. At some point, we both dozed off, staring at the monument that shone like a pearl under the moonlight. "I didn't do it. I'm not a barbarian! I didn't do it!" I was jolted awake to father's screams and had to shake him into consciousness from whatever nightmare he was stuck in. Even when he sat upright, he seemed like he was still far away. When he did look at me, it was with the pained expression of a man lost. "They have made me into a villain, daughter," he cried. "Who, they? Brothers?" "No the people of tomorrow. They think I was a cruel ruler," he was now sobbing. I had never seen my father break down this way. Even when mother died, his grief had been private. For a few minutes I didn't know what to do. Who was he talking about? Was he slipping into the madness again? The royal coffers wouldn't entertain one of his whims to build again but perhaps it will put him in a good mood. "Father, I'll call the architect tomorrow. We'll build something even better than the mausoleum," I offered. "No!" his face was a raging red now. He got up from his bed and stormed over to the window that overlooked the monument, started at it for one full minute before shutting it off and returning to bed. I couldn't believe what I had just seen. Ever since he had been imprisoned here, at the fort, he had insisted all windows facing mother's mausoleum be kept open at all times. I had shivered through several winters because of this. Something was seriously wrong. The next time he looked up, his bloodshot eyes motioned me to sit next to him. "Father, please tell me what happened on your trip...did you land on the year of mother's death?," I jumped at the opening, determined to find for myself. "Worse. I was thrown into a time yet to come," he whispered, searching my eyes for reassurance. "The future?" I gasped, "Can the machine do that?" "Yes, I went ahead by centuries. It was a world I didn't know, people I didn't know, places I didn't know," he shook his head. "You could have asked for the mausoleum. It must have been around?" I half ask. "Daughter, it was around. But it was surrounded by rude, angry people who wore weird shoes to walk on it. They smiled and laughed and ate all around my beloved's grave. Do you know I'm placed there too?" "How can that be? We are building one for you. God forbid when it's your time to go, that will be your resting place. I'll ensure that," I offer, completely forgetting he had seen that it wasn't to be. But he didn't tell me that. Instead he continued to recount the horrible things he'd heard there. "They call it a 'building', as if their's are better. Theirs are nothing in comparison, daughter, that's why they paid to see mine. Yes, paid, but with paper. Can you believe it?" I couldn't but I could see he was getting worked up. I began to get up to offer him water, but he pulled me back down needing to share every last detail lest he forget. "There were so many people milling about there, daughter, and here in our house too, right here" he looked around. This I found creepy but he continued. "And they weren't our people too. They weren't our descendants and yet there were some people who were telling our story like they knew us. Do you know what did they claim, daughter?" I just stared back. "They claimed I had cut down the hands and gouged out the eyes of all the architects and engineers and workers who had worked on creating the mausoleum," he shrieked, his voice quaking with rage and defeat. *** When morning broke, we were still sitting next to each other, unable to move. He couldn't forget what he had seen and I couldn't fathom it. If what he had said was true and our legacy had been tarnished like this, surely it would be a shame. My first thought was to inform my brother, the emperor, our captor. But drunk on power and blinded by the throne, he'd think it was a ploy to distract him. By afternoon, between supervising the meals being cooked for father, I had decided to go to the future myself to find out why people thought what they did. But father was scared of the machine now and it would be a while before he agreed to let me go. It was finally in the evening, as I went around the fort, lighting the lamps, with the mausoleum a dim gray behind me, that I had an idea. I couldn't let a monument decide the course of our legacy. "Father, I have an assignment for you," I announced in a chirpy voice that betrayed the fear I felt within. "I want you to narrate every last detail of your life to me". "Why, you already know everything," he dismissed. "I do. But now I want to write it for the people of tomorrow".


Love Can save all Nicole jalonen Nakira Roman was the surviving member of her family of five . The twenty two year old had just watched her house with her mom and dad and two siblings inside blow up after a number of asteroids hit it , causing it to blow up and burn! Falling to her thin jean covered knees and crying hysterically the blonde haired spot covered woman hardly noticed as someone picked her up off the dead charred grass and held her close to him . Whispering , “ I know it’s hard but you’ve got to get out of here the druids will find and kill us as we are the last two humans on earth now!” “Andreas is that you?!” The thin ms universe beauty queen asked as she peered into the five foot tall MSN’s blue eyes as her childhood friend and high school love nodded and carried her away from the scene of her families demise as the whole planet earth was engulfed in war and fire . “Where can we go that’s safe!” Nakira asked in fear as Andreas whipped out a huge silver dagger with a green handle And without saying a word to her he cut a hole right through the red with fury sky and pulled her through it! “How’s you do thst ? “ Where are we now?” The confused and scared woman asked as Andreas replied . “I’m a warlock and this is my magic home your earth Is experiencing the biblical apocalypse so we must live here if we are to survive for you are the last of the human race Nakira I was sent to bond with you so we could fall in love and continue your race .” With that said and her heart a flutter for this man who had just saved her life the two married and together had a fully human and another fully warlock child and they had to save the humsn race so they loved each other and within a year gave birth to two children one was fully a warlock and one was a full humdn girl who grew to one day look for a full human msn to fall in love with as was predicted . Tatiana met and fell in love with a human man at the age of eighteen and through their daughter and after her Nakira and Andrea had saved the world of humans forever more ! not knowimh if anymore apocalypse were going to happen her dad Andrea left Tatianna and her twin atoni spells Toni could use to protect the new humans against going exist because they knew how vulnerable thE species was . Now and always the species would be protected through magic because Andreas and a nakira would live forever to protect the world so no one would never again experience the pain of death! Yet death would be truffled with . For the Grimm teepee has ways of creeping upon the unexpecting ones. Striking at those times when defences are down . Letting Andreas find a curse box that cursed him to age and everyday the warlock would slowly age and experience sickness even though it would not kill him he and his wife who thought they’d cheated death would always be aware death was there . Yet the lovers persevered and lived out everyday loving each other through because they knew their love was strong enough to get them through anything . So the reaper tried again feeling defeated by these lovers again he took Andreas powers completely away and centuries after the couple had bested n the apocalypse with their love the powerful warlock Andreas was reduced to a lily powerless human and would age until he would eventually die. Not want to watch her lover parish Nakira made a deal with death she would become one if his reapers forever more if only he would let her beloved husband live with his magic! nodding in agreement Nakira gave her life so Andreas could be a powerful warlock again and she the original human died young knowing her loved ones could be happy again! Andreas carries on for his wife unwilling trying again and again to find another love . Years passed and Nakira watched her lover be alone so she decided to intervene and she pleaded with the angels to grant Andreas a gift for saving the world. They agreed and sent down one of their angels Casima to Andreas and Nakira told her everything the men liked and Casima won Andreas heart and they married and Andreas was happy . Though he missed Nakira his heart was happy and he and casima had lots of kids and he ruled the new safe world forever more with one of their kids Deranna grew up to rule the world and protect the world! Yet another problem rose for the daughter when the secret police warlocks came and arrested the daughter for treason when they said she worked for the devils who destroyed the world before ! you have no proof of this ! Casima and Andreas screamed as their daughter was sentanced to death By hanging ! not wanting Andreas to lose more Nakira who was the ever watchful reaper turned back time and made his daughter with Casima be in another place so someone else could take the blame for the crime ! life as a reaper was lonely and her heart longed for her love but she knew they could never be back together for they had gave that up when they made it so no one else could die in the apocalypse! So Nakira had no choice but to watch her beloved Andreas be happy without her and forever heart ache was her price for not wanting To experience death again ! so Andreas moved on with his eternal life and Nakira would once in a while intervene to make him happy so he wouldn’t be sad without her. But Andreas though he was happy still thought of the love he lost everyday and vowed he would keep his family together no matter what he had to do!