Got my thumb out when a beat up old Ford pick up truck pulls off the side of the road.

“Thanks.” I toss my duffle bag in the back. “Where ya headed to, son?” A grizzled old man asks as I climb into the cab. “Anywhere.

Away from here.” I answer. “You runnin’ from that rehab place?” I can barely see the smile covered by a snowy gray mustache. “Yaw ain’t the first fella I picked up from that place.” “Milton Barkley Ten Step Program?” I bow my head ashamed that I had made up my mind to give up on my chance to walk the straight and narrow.

My daddy told me I would never amount to a hill of manure and deep down I have to he may have been on to something.

He done the program long before I got slammed in there by a crooked judge.

“Why did you run away?” He asked as his tires kicked up the loose gravel. Man, it was hot. Someone told me I’d get used to it, but I don’t think I ever will.

“I’m Orville McKenzie, what might your name be?” He asked as he narrowed one of his pale blue eyes on me. “Buck Sentis.” I answered as I rolled down the window which only let in more hot air as we meandered down the gravel road.

“Most folks claim that the Milton Barkley Ten Step Method is quite restraining.” He nodded. “That’s putting it mildly.” I chuckled, “Controlling.

From the moment you wake up until you put your head on the pillow at bedtime, the method as we know it lists out a myriad of do’s and don'ts.” “That’s what I heard.” He nodded again.

“I guess I am more inclined to choose the road less traveled.”

I put my elbow out the open window.

“Son, there ain’t that many roads ‘round here.” He laughed as he cut close on a curve in the road. “Lucky they got one road.”

“I just need to get as far away from the Milton Barkley Ten Step Program.” I hung my head on the crook of my arm so I could get some refreshment from the air blowing in even if it felt as though I was in a confectionary oven.

Orville remained silent as he drove as he was not much for chit-chat conversation it seemed.

It was a good change from the hub-bub of the Milton Barkley Ten Step Program. With my one bag in hand, I walked through the large wooden door to the center.

Once inside, I was overcome with a dozen voices speaking at once in several different conversations. “Name?” A young man at the desk with a neatly trimmed van Dyke of flaming red hair. “Buck.” I answered as I took my bag off my shoulder. “Buck who?” He snapped, already annoyed with me. “Sentis.

Buck Sentis.” I watched him check off my name on a very long list. “Welcome Buck Sentis to Milton Barkley Ten Step Program.” He finally smiled.

I followed suit. “Here is your rule book.” He handed me a very thick tome. I grunted as I cradled the sacred book in my arms. “You need to memorize that book for the exam.”

“Exam?

I figured I was done with tests and such.” I sounded distraught as I spoke. “Well, you thought wrong, Buck now dincha.” His heavy sarcasm was a bit much, but I knew better than to challenge a man with a clipboard. “Harv.” A stout man appeared at the mention of the name. “Harv, this is a new resident.” The clipboarded man pointed to me with a sidelong glance as he spoke to Harv.

“His name is Buck Sentis.”

“Please to meet you, Buck, I’m Harvey Holstein, one of the proctors.” Harvey extended his hand, but I just looked at it as if it was a piece of spoiled meat.

“What is a proctor?” I asked as the clipboard man rolled his eyes.

“They get dumber by the minute.’ He said under his breath, but I still heard him.

“Don’t mind Douglas, he’s a bit of a stick in the mud.” Harvey chuckled since Douglas was well out of range to eavesdrop.

“I got sent here-” “Just about everyone has been sent.” Harvey stopped at a door marked 444. “I’ve been here for quite a while.

I hate to think about how long sometimes.” He shook his head, “This is your room.” “444?”

“Yes, 444.” Harvey acknowledged.

“Kinda small.” I sniffed. “You won’t need much room.

The program keeps you hustling.” He shrugged. “Hey Bently, here’s your new roommate.”

“Swell.” A sarcastic voice emerged from the person sitting at the desk next to a sad looking bed.

“I am so sorry.

Bently can be a royal pain in the-” Harvey was cut off. “Don’t give my charms away, Harv.” His tone was snide and meant to slice into Harvey. “He’ll figure it out pretty quick.”

“Bently smashed up his father’s Silver Arrow on a joyride.” He whispered, but Bently heard every word. “Dweeb.” Bently hissed. “Spoiled brat.” Harvey retorted as he walked away. Turning his head over his shoulder, “I’ll be by in the morning for calisthenics.” “You will love that.” Bently resumed his seat at the beat-up desk.

I noticed the initials B.B.B. carved into the wooden desk. He noticed that I noticed. “Bently Bradford Bellford.

A royal name for a royal pain in the-” “Really Bently, do you want to add to the kitty?” A prudish man in a sweater vest stopped by the open door.

“Higgs? Is that you spreading your disdain like manure?” Bently did not even turn his head to see if it was who he said it was.

“Honestly, I don’t see how you don’t flunk out of here.” Higgs rolled his eyes and marched on. “What’s your name?” Bently turned his head toward me as I sat on the edge of my new bed. “Buck Sentis.” I answered. “That anchor of a book of rules is pure…” He looked around to see if someone was eavesdropping. “Bull-loney.” He tossed the thick book to the floor with a thump. “You will read a chapter a day while you’re here. And there’s a test on Friday.

A test that I have yet to pass by the way.”

“So, what’s the point?” I shrugged. “It’s the ticket out that matters.” He smiled, “No one really wants to stay here in limbo.

Even Hell’s not as bad.” “So why are you here?” I did not flinch from his hard stare.

I’m sure Bently was used to having an army of servants to wipe his nose, but here there were no servants, only counselors.

“Harv said I totaled my dad’s car.” He moved his head closer to mine, “But what he neglected to mention was I totaled my dad with the Silver Arrow and not to mention my poor dear old mother.”

I tried not to let my facial expression betray my utter shock, so I just drew a deep breath and let Bently continue. “I’m looking for a way out of here.” He said in a more subdued tone. “What makes people around here hate and despise me is that I want to think for myself.

Everything here is scripted and predetermined.” “It is?” I swallowed hard. “The Milton Barkley Ten Step Program is scripted and if you follow it, you get to get the heck out of here.” He snapped his fingers, “But what happens when you get in the elevator and Harv pushes the “up” button?” “I dunno.” I put my hands on my face and my elbows on my knees.

“Nobody does.” He waved his hand in a futile gesture, “If I am going somewhere, I want to be in charge of how and by what mode I arrive.

I’ve heard rumors that sometimes the elevator does not go to the top floor.” “It doesn’t?” “Nope.” He shook his head side to side. “Once they put you on it, you are at their mercy.

You go where they want you to go.

Not me.

I’m going where I decide to go. Like Robert Frost said, ‘I chose the road less traveled and it has made all the difference.’ He knew what he was talking about.” Bently mentioned the ravine, but did not seem anxious to talk about it.

All he said was that I had better stay away from that place. His good humor and sarcastic tone seemed to leave him as he simply said that the place was once used as the place the wicked were cast into by the judges.

He was scant about who these judges were other than they decided who went and who didn’t before The Milton Barkley Ten Step Program came into being.

“My father was tossed into the Ravine.” He mumbled as his expression turned melancholy, “Hey, I need some sleep.

So I hope you don’t mind.”

“Sure.” I nodded.

It wasn’t long after that when he was chosen to ride the elevator.

Members of the ten step program are chosen once they have completed the program. “I didn’t complete the program.” He sat with his hands folded and his elbows on his knees. “I wonder what the deal is.”

“Are you ready?” Harv showed up at the door a few minutes later.

“What’s the deal?

Why are you here?” Bently seemed quite distressed and it made me quite anxious as well. “A decision has been reached.” Harv said without any emotion. “It can’t be.” Bently shook his head. “Come along, it is time to proceed.” Harv reached out for Bently’s hand, but Bently drew back and punched Harv in the gut.

Doubled over, Harv managed to tell security to come immediately.

As security rushed to the scene, Bently took a chair and broke a window in the recreation area.

Before anyone could lay a hand on him, Bently had left the facility.

I haven’t seen or heard from him since.

I heard some rumors about him and the ravine and that’s when I decided to escape from The Milton Barkley Ten Step Program.

The security at the facility was not as impenetrable as I first thought.

In a matter of minutes, I was walking the gravel road with a sack over my shoulder.

“So what’s ya in for?” Orville broke the silence.

His crooked smile was unnerving.

“Bank robbery.” I sniffed. I didn’t like blabbing about it, but it seemed to matter an awful lot. “What are you?

Sixteen?” Orville made a sharp turn on the road. “Seventeen.” I glared at him. “Just a babe in the woods.” He laughed barely making the next hairpin curve.

I noticed that there was a steep drop off on my side. “It’s the ravine.” “The ravine?” I strained to see into the abyss, but all I could see was the endless darkness of the pit. “It’s where I take folks who are trying to get away from The Milton Barkley Ten Step Program.” He nodded. “Where are we going?” I asked, trying hard to swallow. “Same place I take all of my hitchhikers.” He slowed as we came to another switchback.

“Who are you?” I began to panic. “Who do you want me to be?” His eyes were darker, more menacing than they were when he picked me up in his truck. “What is the ravine?” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder. “Son, that is the end of the road.” He sighed.

“End of the road?” I gasped. “Metaphorically speaking that is.” There was now a twinkle in his dark eyes and his teeth now had pointed edges when he smiled. “In that hole are the souls of the damned.” “You are the devil.” I shook my head. “Glad to be of service.” His laughter erupted from a deep place in his belly. “Buck Sentis, you have been remanded to the place of eternal suffering. When you and your brother decided to rob that bank back in St. Louis, you sealed your fate with me.

I was quite perturbed when Milton Barkley spoke out on your behalf.

I have tried for years to push him over the edge and close that infernal ten step program of his.

Some folks ain’t worth the time saving if you ask me.” I had the door handle in my hand and slowly I was trying to open the door.

At the bottom of this bottomless pit was Hell.

“You shot that bank guard.” Orville pointed an accusatory crooked bony finger at me.

His eyes burned with hatred.

The door came open and I stepped from the running board of the truck.

I was not looking where I was going and found myself falling.

Reaching out, I managed to grab some weeds to stop me from falling into the ravine.

Hanging there, I was at the mercy of Orville McKenzie.

Suddenly a hand grabbed me by the ankle. “I did not see the second armed guard who shot me in the head.

I was in this awful place before I hit the ground.

They got my brother, too, but he ended up surviving.

They sent him away to the state pen.” I struggled to put my feet on the jagged rocks protruding from the ravine wall.

“Help me.

Please, I beg of you, please help me.” A pained voice cried out.

I kicked my leg.

His hand let go and I could hear him scream out as he fell into the ravine. “Fate has not been your ally, Buck Sentis.” Orville stepped to the edge and looked at me as I hung helplessly to the prickly weeds.

I refused to let go, no matter how the spikes gouged into the palm of my hand. “Milton Barkley felt sympathy for you.

I told him you were a lost cause.

Fate had decided to feed you to the ravine. I felt it was only fitting.” “We were just trying to get some quick cash so we could buy some groceries.

We were hungry.” I gritted my teeth.

When daddy left us we were just children with no idea how to survive.

Every time we trusted someone, they ended up taking more of what our daddy had left behind.

“Hunger.

What a curse it can become.” He took out a knife and leaned over intending to cut the weeds I was hanging onto. “When I walked the earth, I was betrayed by those I thought would save me.

I love driving this truck and picking up lost souls like you and watch as I dump them into the ravine.

Like I am doing to you now.”

“Please…” I begged as I saw one by one my handhold on the weeds were sliced from the rocky soil.

“Just like that whipper-snapper I got last week.

He whined and cried as he fell into the ravine.” He kept cutting with his knife. It was Bently.

He had thrown Bently into the ravine. I felt a rock fall into my hand as the soil crumbled.

When he leaned over, I aimed my weapon and just like David striking Goliath the mighty Philistine warrior, I heard Orville curse as he fell from the edge into the depths of the ravine.

I watched as the darkness swallowed him whole.

Growing up, I became quite fond of climbing on the rocky hills of the Ozarks around my home.

So climbing out of the ravine was something I knew I could do without much of a problem.

Which is exactly what I did.

After brushing myself off, I got behind the steering wheel of the truck that was still running and I drove away from the ravine. It was then I noticed the rotten stench rising up from the pit.

The odor coming from that pit almost made me gag. I could not wait to put the ravine in my rearview mirror.

As I drove, I reflected on fate and how fate had condemned me to Hell. Even as I drove away from the ravine, I could not help but wonder if I had truly beaten fate or was it just waiting for another opportunity to reach out and grab me when I least expected it to.

Either way, I was now free to return to the facility since the road only went in two directions, one way to the ravine and the other to The Milton Barkley Ten Step Program.

Upon my return to the ten step program, I made up my mind to become a model resident so when I was called to the elevator, I knew what direction I would be going.


Cold air kissed my cheeks. I’m so relieved that I finally had the chance to travel alone. Anyway, I’m joining a hike and camp, I’m with a tour guide and a group having their squad goals. We’re here in the top of Bundok Misteryo , a perfect place to breathe and find oneself. My phone reads February 29, 2020, 4:20 p.m. I can almost see the sunset. The group of friends I was with seems so happy. They are having fun, taking pictures, and joking around. I just smile looking to them, remembering my set of own friends.

I had already talked to some girls earlier, and I can say they are kind and pretty. They called me earlier to join them but I chose not to.

The camp is in the distant with our tour guide and some of his colleagues, preparing our food for the dinner and some firewood for the bonfire.

I sat in a big rock overlooking the sunset view. Smiling bitterly, flashes of memories flooded in again.

I never remember anything it happens. I’m with a guy whose face is still a mystery to me. I just see glimpse of his face but not fully, sometimes I even forgot his features when I woke up.

I close my eyes and repeatedly take deep sighs. I don’t want this. I don’t want to feel this empty just because of those empty memories. I’m here to escape and treat myself for my birthday today. I had a hard time convincing my parents for this travel; thankfully, they let me. “Are you okay, Binibini (Miss)?” I open my eyes as I heard that manly voice. Standing in front is a handsome man. He is so stunning in his simple old clothes. Wait, what? He is wearing an old Filipino clothes for men, with all the Amerikana (Filipino men’s formal clothes).

Wow, I never expected that there are people who still prefer that kind of style. But, from the way he dressed, he seems to be a young man from an elite family. “ Binibini ? Are you lost?” he said, taking off his hat and placed it to his front and bowed down. “Anyway, Good evening Binibini.” I repeatedly blink my eyes. Oh, he’s real, I thought it was just another imagination or flood of memories.

“ Kuya , are you attending a party? Or a cosplay?” I unconsciously asked him. ( Kuya means Big brother, commonly used to refer an older man even to strangers) “Huh? Forgive me Binibini , but I don’t understand you,” he confusedly replied. “Oh sorry, never mind. Anyway, I’m one of those tourist, are you one of those tour guides? Is dinner ready?” I asked him instead.

I think my fellows had already gone to the camp, how sad they forgot to call me to join them.

I turned to him and all I got instead is a more confused look. “ Binibini , I think it’s already late for you to roam around especially you’re a woman and alone.”

 “I’m still enjoying the view; I will just follow you later. I can still manage myself,” I said dismissing his idea of shooing me to go to the camp.

“It’s dangerous Binibini , especially alone and with …,” he was silenced for a while, and blushed. A shy type. “With you? Are you planning to do something to me? Then I would shout for help,” my silly side replied to him, acting dramatically.

“No, no. I don’t mean that way,” he replied defensively. I laughed mentally as I watched his reactions. Nonetheless, I think he’s a good man. I extend my hands to him and say, “Can you help me stand up? This backpack is so heavy.” He just blushed even more. “I think it’s too much, being with a woman in this late night is not good. What’s more if I held her hands?”

I think he’s still battling to himself, if he will help me or not; murmuring to himself. I just rolled my eyes and take off both traps of my backpack and stood up, then scoop it again. “Hey Kuya . Are you still with me?” I said with a boring tone, waking him up. “Sorry if I can’t lend you my hand because I’m not allowed to.”

I don’t know, is he just a shy guy or a complete weirdo dressed in a weird clothing? “Can we just go to the camp? Do you have a flashlight with you? I have mine, but it’s not enough to light us to the camp,” I said while finding my flashlight in the backpack.

“Camp? Where is that place? I don’t know anything but that?” he answered. “Are you making fun of me, Kuya ? The camp is…,” I stopped as there no any sight of the camp. They must have already set up the bonfire, so there must be lights from it.

“Are you referring to that bahay kubo (old hut)? Is it your home?” he said pointing to his left. I turned with my flashlight on, and saw an old abandoned hut; no camps, no bonfire and no one was there.

No, it can’t be. I know it was just there a while ago. I turned again to find even just a glimpse of it. What the hell is happening! “I think you’re lost, Binibini ,” he finally concludes after a while.

With all the tiredness from those haunted memories, stress, and the long hiking, I don’t know what happened next as darkness engulfed me.

I wake up with a heavy head. I think it’s already eight in the evening, or not. A lamp was the only one that lights up the whole room. I roamed around my eyes; all I can see is an old-fashioned items and furniture with paintings and books. I roam around admiring the paintings, seems like the painter love to paint landscapes. I saw a painting of the big rock I was sitting earlier and a painting of falls; they are all beautiful.

A wood table calendar caught my attention. It was beautiful, carved, and furnished. I’ve always want this kind of thing but never really had one. It says PEB 29 1944 (February 29, 1944).

I confusedly stared the numbers. I think the owner completely lost track of time. I tried moving the numbers; I think it just automatically changes. Cool.  I stopped when suddenly someone came in. “Hey!” I shouted as it was the guy earlier. “What are you doing here?”

“Ssshh. Lower you voice, Binibini . You’re in my house,” he said. I covered myself as I realized I’m wearing different clothes now, and angrily look at him. “You’re mistaken, I asked Tinay to dress you, in fact, she’ll be here few minutes to serve your food.” I spent the night with him. Don’t think anything silly, we slept separately. I was in his bed and he was in the floor in banig ( buri mat). I also met Tinay, their young maid. She’s the only one knows about my existence.

He said that people might get the wrong idea if they know he brought a girl in his bedroom; it’s not good to see both man and woman to be in a room alone. He had no choice, but to bring me here secretly because I collapsed and no place to go.

“What’s your name?” I asked suddenly. I know he was still wide-awake. “I’m Mario Alcantara, you?”

I giggled, his name was old as his taste. But, it’s close to mine, opps.

 “I’m Mara Ysabella Gonzales, I just turned 20 today. Actually, 29th is my birthday,” I replied still staring to his wood table calendar. “Really? I’m also 20, February 29 is also my birthday. February 29, 1924 to be exact. I can’t believe this,” he replied excitedly.

I furrowed my brows. Is he serious? “1924? Are you kidding me? Hello, for god’s sake, it’s 2020! Have you totally and insanely lost track of time?” We both sit and face each other. “No. Look” he said and points to his calendar. “It’s February 29, 1944. And today, I just turned 20.” I dig in to the pocket of my backpack placed below the side table to find my phone. I rolled my eyes as it’s already dead, obviously, they don’t have electricity here.

I searched instead the papers I had with 2020 date on it. “Look, its 2020! I got these when I signed up for the hike and camp.” He studied the papers for a while and said, “I think something’s wrong.” I woke up as cold air embraced me from the open window.

“Forgive me if I disturbed you, Binibini .”

Mario was already standing beside the window; dressed in simple clothes with basket in his study table and some piece of clothes.

“I can’t let someone caught you in here, so we’ll be leaving. I already fetch pails of water from the well. You should better prepare yourself,” he continued and drink his cup of coffee.

I shrugged and do as he says. I took a bath and dressed up with the same old-fashioned baro’t saya, but much better than the last one.

I went out and caught him staring at me. “Hey, Mario! Are you okay?” waking him up from idling.  I glanced back to the table calendar. Oddly, it still shows PEB 29 1944, not MAR 01. I just shrugged the thought, thinking it already broke down. I believed it’s already 2020, and he keeps insisting that its 1944.

“Ye..yes, I’m fine. Shall we go?” he said tensely, picking up my backpack and the basket, and went to the window.  “What are you doing?” I asked while looking down to him from the window. “We can’t use the doors, some people are already awake. It’s our only way out,” he said as he went down the ladder.

He places all the baggage and starts to go up, “Here, you can have a grip in my arm.”

We slowly climbed down the ladder, still gripping his arm as a support with my other hand to the steps. My clumsiness activated as we fell, when we are already two steps away from the ground.

We’re both shocked as I fell on top of him. We stared for a while. I immediately got up as I realized what happened, fixing myself, and he does the same. We are both blushing out of embarrassment.

“So..sorry,” I said, still can’t look at him. “I..It’s okay. Let’s g-go,” he said changing the atmosphere.

We went back to the mountaintop; we arrived exactly as the sun rises. He placed a mat and I prepared the food he brought in the basket. We sat, staring the enchanting view of the sunrise, eating breakfast together.

“Do you know that I was born exactly as the sun rises?” I turned to him and replied, “Really? I was born during the sunset. What a coincidence.”  “I agree,” he said smiling. “It’s the most relieving view, isn’t it?” he continues as he turned to the view. “Yeah, you’re right. It gives me the peace, and escape.” I agreed.

 “My grandmother said before that unusual things happen during sunset and a happy memory starts during sunrise. It signifies happiness and you will experience that longest day in your life,” he paused. “Somewhat agrees to her, but rarely it happens,” he continues.

After the breakfast, we went to a mango tree still overlooking the view. He climbed to the tree to pick some.

We ended up talking about my stuffs, like the flashlight, and whistle. I also showed my heart-pendant necklace, I kept in the backpack’s small pocket because I’m afraid it might get lost. I don’t know why but I just felt the urged to give it to him, gladly he accepts it.

Ignorance was all over his face as he inspects my phone, which makes me laughed. He also draws a portrait of me smiling, in my notebook. After that, I’m chasing him as he don’t want me to see it yet until the day ends. We ended up into a mud pond; we laughed and smudged mud to each other’s face.

“Wow. It’s so beautiful!” I said mesmerized by the view. We’re here in the falls. He handing the bread, “Have a bite first, Binibini .” Weirdly, he still addressed me as Binibini (Miss). I think he was so formal and old- fashioned to address me that way, but I don’t mind; it gives me the kilig (blushing moment). He was also gentleman and handsome.

He was fully clothed like me when we are flashing water to each other. He said it would be a shame if he would take off his top.

We had a good time playing around and laughing, not minding what would happen next. It was like we were children having the time off their lives; a long time friends, catching up to each other; and a lover who makes memories together. We went to the falls and let the water drops in our heads. Betting who can swam faster, or who can breathe longer underwater.

Now, we are leaning in the rocks and staring as the water falls. “I know, we are still thinking the same thing,” I said. “Yes. How weird that we believed we are born and lives in different time, but now you’re here in my time, 1944,” he agreed. “You know what, I think its déjà vu . I think it already happens to me before. Sometimes, I had glimpse of memories that I’m not in my time, or I met someone that seems so unusual in my time. But sadly, I can’t really figure out what really happened and who’s that boy,” I said sharing my stories. “Really?” shocked was written all over his face.

“I also experienced that one. I met that little girl, I’m sure she was that same girl every time I had that unusual day. We met during sunsets, till sunrise came; I remembered that was one of those longest days, and I’m always with her. Suddenly, everything vanishes after the sun sets again.”

He stopped as he realized something. “Could it be?” we both said, staring to each other’s eyes again. “Your that boy?” I said breaking the silence. “Maybe. But, how that’s possible? I have all the glimpse of memories about those days, weeks before my birthday, February 29, the day who just came every four years. That unusual day, I always met that girl,” he said. “I also experienced the same thing,” I replied, shocked. He’s that guy? “So, we are from different times. We’re here in year 1944, my time and, you’re from 2020. We both met every four years, or every birthdays as 29th comes,” he said concluding.

“My grandmother is right. But then, everything vanishes after the next sunset,” he paused as we discovered what’s next.

“And, we will forget again what happened until the next four years.” We smiled bitterly to each other. “How sad it is?” I said with a faint voice. “Yeah,” he agreed sadly. “How rude fate can be.” Silence engulfed us again as we already figured out the mystery. The memories that haunt me weeks and years before were true; they were not empty memories after all, but a sad reality with the right person. Sadly, we can’t be together. Yes, oddly as it seems, I’m having this weird feelings towards him, it just happened.

After the long silence, we decided to go to their farm. No one was their because it’s siesta time (nap time), we harvest some apples, bananas and coconuts. We went back to the mountaintop and brought some of those fruits, while telling stories about our lives. Another long moment of silence filled the air as we arrive, realizing that the sun is starting to set.

“Can I have your hand?” he said. I confusedly accept his hand; I thought it was forbidden in their time?

“You must be confused right now, but I’m afraid this would be the last moment or worst the last time I will meet you,” he said, sadness is visible in his face.

“I like you,” he said.  “No. I love you. Crazy, but I know from the start that I love you. I love that girl whom I always had those memories with. Memories that gives me happiness and at the same time sadness as it ends,” he continued, tears wetting his eyes. We can’t help but felt pain. We can’t be together.

Tears slowly rolling down my face. “Memories that I will always treasure,” I replied.

“Yeah, happy memories with you,” he said with a bitter smile.

“I love you too. It might not right but I felt the same way,” I said bowing my head to our touching hands. He placed a necklace around my neck, with an hourglass pendant in it.

“My grandmother gave it to me before she dies. She said that I should give it to a special woman I want to spend my time and life with.” He smiled bitterly. “I will treasure your necklace forever, so treasure mine.”  “This is sad, but always remember my love, Mara,” he said as he slowly leaned closer, with our eyes closed.

I felt his warm lips touched mine. “Mara!” I opened my eyes as I heard that voice and it was Patty, one of my companions. “What happened? Are you okay?” she asked as she saw me in tears. I confusedly wiped my tears. Weird, I don’t know what happened. Why am I crying? Pain shots up in my heart. I don’t know what I’m feeling right now, there’s part of me is happy because something’s filled my heart but sadness at the same time as there’s a missing part my heart seeks to find. I glanced to the rock I was sitting earlier, as Patty and I both tried to catch up with her friends heading to the camp. I know I will find that missing piece again.


       I saw her- well, I think I did when I was twelve years old. Anything could have explained it, though, right?        I mean, who can actually believe their mind at only twelve years of age? I was just starting puberty, small sprouts of hairs poking through the skin of my leg. High school was becoming a growing reality in my future. My friends were all starting to neglect pickup baseball games and late-night creature features for sitting around at Baby Bo’s Burgers and Soda to act like the older kids. I was in love with Cindy McArthur. In fact, that’s why I was there at Whispering Moon Lake that night.        The lake was actually unnamed. Just a pool of murky water out in the marsh outside of town. Its local legend was why it was given the name Whispering Moon.        See-according to the tale-back in 1903, a woman named Agatha Marie Spindler was murdered by her abusive husband with her bones being thrown into the lake. Being that the town was nothing more than farmers at the time (which really hadn’t changed too much by then in 1983), there was no arrest, trial, and imprisonment. Instead, the town formed a mob where the husbands stormed Jonathan Spindler’s house and tied him to a tree overlooking the small pool of mud and algae. He was executed with his eyes to the supposed resting place of his wife.        Usually, the tale would end there. That’s how my mother concluded the story as well as my grandparents, however, if you asked any kid under the age of fourteen or the occasional grownup looking to spook some youngsters, they had a little epilogue to the folklore.        There, you would hear how while the men were busy attending to Mr. Spindler as the women watched, a handful of the townspeople saw the ghastly pale figure of Agatha Spindler- white as the full moon- watching the execution in a blood-stained gown. Ever since then, the little pool in the swampy woods outside of Wheatville, Illinois was called by its unofficial name of Whispering Moon. The legend told that if you visit around midnight under a full moon, you’ll see the figure of Agatha Marie Spindler, and you’ll hear her whisper horrible things into your ear. The reason more people did not visit the lake was that her sight was supposed to be an omen for family tragedies. So, naturally, a group of people wanted to go see this spirit of the lake ourselves right at the end of childhood, when the imagination does all it can to stay in place in the mind before the allure of girls and underage drinking becomes too strong to ignore.        “Okay, we will meet at Whispering Moon tonight at eleven,” Tommy, our never-spoken but completely recognized leader spoke. We had just gotten a few sodas and some cheap candy from the corner store on Rosemary Ave. and were sitting in one of the pavilions in Cherry Tree Park discussing that we were no longer children and that it was time for us to see the spirit known as the Lady in the Lake.        Though I was a fan of horror movies and would collect any books or comics containing anything gruesome, I was still a baby. Murderous psychopaths that wore eerie masks and never spoke, vampires that seduced beautiful women into their lair before turning them into creatures of the night, brainless zombies that were reanimated from Military chemicals gone wrong, and a whole host of other weird tales that I would watch on late-night television and read about in books my mom would get from the small bookstore she worked at got me excited. However, what no one knew about were the countless sleepless nights after them. Staying up until the sunrise armed with a little cross that my dad had given me before he ran off with a busty bartender from the town over and a not-so-confident knowledge on how to get rid of monsters. Ghosts are what scared me the most.        I would have preferred a night in Sam’s basement playing D&D while the newly-released Metallica’s

Kill ‘Em All  pounded from the stereo and soda splashed around our cups like an ocean in a hurricane. Cindy was there, though. Her friend, Kat Thompson was Tommy’s girlfriend, so instead of an all-male group of Tommy, Sam, Andrew, and me. We were accompanied by Kat and Cindy, which I didn’t mind too much seeing as how I thought I could get to know Cindy a bit better. Cindy said she was up for it so I said yes too with a reluctant way of showing it by putting my hand on top of the pile in the middle of the circle of us.        “Oh shit,” Andrew said. Disappointment and loathing scrunched in his freckled- ginger brow, “I am going to my aunt’s and uncles this afternoon to spend the weekend with my cousins in their cabin in Kentucky. I can’t tonight.”        “Yeah, or you’re just chicken,” Tommy spoke with sarcasm. He used to accompany Andrew to the cabin when they were little until the two of them got in trouble for nearly starting a forest fire with a cherry bomb and a stolen lighter when we were ten.        “I can’t go tonight, either, guys,” Sam spoke. He sounded a bit more excited about his absence, his chubby cheeks just barely showing a relieved grin on his pale lips, “I have to go with my dad to help him clean the gutters at my grandparents’ house.”        Tommy just shook his head but looked up and smirked at me, “Guess it’ll just be the two amigos with their lady friends.” Tommy’s eyes gave mine a look of

take your shot  then raised an eyebrow to Cindy, who merely sipped her orange soda.        “Do you think her face will be all rotted and gross?” Kat gleamed at Tommy. Kat had a cool interest in horror and science fiction like we did. I would have had a crush on her if it wasn’t for her greasy matted hair and slight snaggletooth in the front of her mouth. Those things mattered to me back then, Tommy didn’t care, though. He thought she was too cool to pass up. I suppose that’s why he married her ten years later after they had graduated from college. He works at a renewable energy plant while she does accounting at a small farm equipment firm. We still meet up for dinner when I am in town or have the occasional phone conversation to discuss movies from time to time. That’s why I liked Tommy- even as a star track athlete and Homecoming king, he was always down to earth and nerdy.        Cindy and Kat had to go tell their parents that they were spending the night at a mutual friend’s house while Tommy and I went to the bookstore to tell my mom I would be staying at Tommy’s that night.        “Okay, but I want you back by noon tomorrow,” mom told me, “we are going to Uncle Neil’s for the family reunion tomorrow.” I groaned at the thought of having my cheeks pinched by all my mom’s aunts and my hair ruffled by her uncles as I was told how big I was getting and if I was playing any sports. I was athletic enough, but writing was my passion- it worked out when I wrote my first bestseller at twenty-six and hit number one with my follow-up at twenty-nine.        “You gonna try to talk to Cindy tonight?” Tommy asked when we exited the bookstore with a new sci-fi novel each in our hands. Tommy didn’t care much for Cindy, but he tolerated her for Kat and me.        “I don’t know,” I answered, hoping not to sound too excited at hanging with her all night. In reality, my head was whirling with a tornado of me telling her my feelings and us kissing at the water’s edge until our lips were chapped and the sun was up. “I hadn’t thought about it.”        “Just show her some of your stories,” the ever-so-encouraging Tommy said, “I bet she’d like the one about the man with a baby’s brain who kills people with a spiked rattle and wears a diaper.” He paused for a moment, “Or you could show her the one about the creature from space who eats the skin off of people’s faces.”        “She wouldn’t like that,” I answered, “Cindy likes

The Brady Bunch  and

Happy Times . She thinks reading is boring.”        “You’re too good for her,” Tommy said. I was going to argue but we had arrived at Tommy’s house and his mother was beckoning us in for a lunch of fried bologna sandwiches and potato chips.        After lunch, we pilfered through some space magazines and discussed if the new

Friday the 13th  would be scarier with its 3-D effect or not. After that, we tried to get some sleep in anticipation of our all-nighter. Tommy passed out like a rock, I was too antsy about seeing Cindy and the spirit in the water to get any rest. I wasn’t sure about which was a more frightening thought.        Eventually, it was time to sneak out. Sneaking out wasn’t really the correct term. Tommy’s parents knocked out at nine o’clock every night and didn’t wake until seven on the weekends. Tonight was Friday night, so we wouldn’t have to worry about time at all tonight. We merely took a few packaged snacks and cola from the fridge then walked out the back door that Tommy’s family kept open all night over the summer and stalked the woods until we came upon the clearing with Whispering Moon Lake.        The girls arrived shortly after we did.        “Geez,” Cindy said in an exacerbated voice, “Why is it so hot tonight? I am getting eaten alive by mosquitos.”        Tommy and Kat hugged each other before Tommy answered, “Rub some mud on the bites, it’ll take care of the itching.”        Cindy’s tanned face beneath her blonde hair made an expression as she had just been asked to take a tree down with her bare hands, “I’m not rubbing mud on my skin! Are you kidding me?”        Kat, with her brown hair opposing Cindy addressed her friend, “Oh, come on, Cindy, have some adventurous spirit,” she touched Cindy on the shoulder.        “My clothes are expensive and my mom and I go to the beauty parlor every month,” Cindy argued back, “I can’t ruin my beauty for some children’s fantasy about a ghost.”        “You were so excited just a few hours ago,” Tommy said now, “You didn’t hesitate to join in at the park.”        Cindy crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, “I didn’t expect to be surrounded by mud and bugs all night.”        Finally, I spoke in a sheepish voice, “We can go sit on that log over there if you want.”        “No, it’s fine, I’ll just stay here,” Cindy sighed. My already low ego took a blow from that. We stood around watching the moon reflect off the ripples of water for about half an hour. The only sounds were the frogs croaking as a gentle wind rustled the leaves around and Cindy’s occasional outburst of how tired she was and how her feet hurt.        Suddenly, there came a shriek of bloody murder. I jumped higher than I ever had before as my heartbeat became audible in my ears. My blood was felt running icy in my veins.        “Get it off! Get! It! OFF!” Cindy howled in utter fear. Tommy ran to her to see what was happening.        “It’s just a little water bug,” he said flicking the insect off Cindy’s ankle.        “Kat, I want to go home,” Cindy pouted, “I need a bath and I want to go to sleep. I can’t take these bugs and the heat. There’s no ghost here, It’s just a made-up tale for children.        “But Cindy,” Kat begged.        “Aw, come on,” Tommy spoke as well.        “No,” Cindy put her foot down, “I’m not staying here any longer.”        “I’ll walk you home,” I offered.        “Kat, we are leaving,” Cindy spoke, ignoring my sentence.        “Tommy, can you walk us at least to town?” Kat asked.        Tommy said yes and asked if I wanted to come with them.        “That’s okay,” I told him, “I’ll stay,” My heart was too broken to go.        Tommy told me he would be back in about twenty minutes. I stood watching the water make tiny waves under the wind as the sound of Cindy’s bickering grew fainter and fainter.

Don’t be too upset,  a voice spoke inside my head. It wasn’t the normal voice, this one sounded like a woman. I flinched at the unexpectedness of it,

I’m sorry to have scared you. I assure you I mean no harm.

       I turned around to see a sight that remains every time I close my eyes. She was beautiful. Well, maybe not beautiful, but spectacular. Brown hair floating around her flawless pale face. She glowed as an extension of the full moon. Her eyes hinted a light green with lips as red as the bloodstain that flowed down her white gown from the heart.

You don’t have to be afraid, Dennis

(how did she know my name?)  I assure you that I am nothing more than a spirit that inhabits this lake . She smiled kindly. Her lips never moved when speaking. The words still coming as a voice in my head.        “Wha- how?” I asked dazed, “Does this mean someone will die in my family?”

Everyone dies, at some point, Dennis,  she answered kindly,

But, no, I am not any kind of harbinger despite what is said. I am merely just a being here. No different from the animals that come to drink from this pool.  A small, kind small smile appeared on her scarlet lips again.        “I- I’m sorry about how you died?” I said, it was stupid but my mouth was working independently from my brain.        Agatha’s eyes cast down as a look of sorrow took over for just a moment,

No, need to be sorry, child. As I said, everyone goes at some point. You’re a good person though, I can see it. That is why I waited for you to be alone to show myself. Do not fret about that girl, Cindy. You will meet the love of your life when the time comes.

“How d-do you know about that?” I asked. I was still nervous, but a soothing warmth also held me.

One learns quite a bit when you have studied as many people as I have. I can also tell that you are going to be a brilliant writer one day and that your life will be filled with greatness.

       I smiled at what the Lady in the Lake had just told me. Rustling became audible in the woods. Tommy must be returning.

I have to go now, Dennis. Thank you for chatting with me for a bit. I hope to see you here again one day.

And with that, Agatha Marie Spindler walked slowly to the banks of Whispering Moon Lake and vanished as her feet touched the water.        “See anything while I was gone?” I heard Tommy ask once the woman had vanished. I lied and told him it had been uneventful before we decided to go home ourselves. I never told Tommy or anyone that I thought I had not only seen but spoken with the spirit of that lake.        Eventually, when I was in college, I would see a girl in my English Composition class who had auburn hair and blue-green eyes. She confronted me about why I was staring at her. We married at the age of twenty-five. She now edits my novels.        I never returned to Whispering Moon Lake. Every small town has its paranormal story (the town my wife and I live in with our kids has whispers of a part-man part-arachnid that stalks the forests after escaping from the nearby Air Force base) and it was only a matter of time before the ghost hunting shows visited and turned the small pool into a tourist destination. The most recent one even claimed footage of the spirit in the water, but they got it wrong. The actress they used was a blonde.        I still think about that night every day, dreaming that Agatha speaks to me again and I tell her how I was a novelist who’s sold the movie rights to three of my works now and my kids are roughly the age I was when I met her. Something always gets in the way of me going back. Still, the allure to hop in my car and make the drive becomes almost overwhelming and tonight I cannot contain it any longer. Just to prove to myself that I did see her.


I love this show, the cat chasing that mischievous little mouse around the house all day to no avail. I love visiting these two, just watching their foolishness all day makes a smile cling to my face. The cat has schemed up another ingenious plan to catch the little mouse scoundrel, his affinity for TNT especially evident in this one. It really looks like he is going to have his way this time; the mouse seems to be blinded by his love of cheese as he approaches the trap. He inches cautiously closer to the chee--CLICK. The cat and mouse slowly fade into the black box as I feel the smile gradually lose grip of my face before evaporating into the air. I turn around and see her towering above me, control in hand. “Go to your room” she grunts. I know the drill; I shuffle up the stairs to my door. My door, like everything else in this house has needed repair for years. After using every bit of strength my 11 year old body could muster, I finally get into my room and collapse onto the bed. Bed. If you can even call this pile of dirty clothes and newspaper that. I lay face up staring at the ceiling, trying unsuccessfully to fall asleep, kept up by the loud music and voices coming from downstairs. I hear the sound of glass breaking, followed by an argument full of feet stomping and slurred words. A door slams shut and the normal noises continue. My stomach roars at me, demanding nutrients. I glance down at the patch of bruised flesh on my right arm, reminding myself that I know better than to go ask for some. After all, I did just eat yesterday. To divert my mind, I think back to a movie I had watched earlier that day. It was about a married couple who had just got a divorce and were fighting over who got to keep their only daughter. At first I thought the fight was over who got to be free from taking care of this child. But no, these two were fighting passionately, WANTING to be with this girl. It was such a foreign concept to me, living with a woman who wanted nothing to do with me. From what I gathered through my observations of TV and the outside world, a mother’s love for her son is the strongest there is. I wracked my brain, searching for a reason for why this didn’t seem to be the case with me. Was I ugly? Stupid? Maybe I misbehave too much. After what seemed like hours, my mind finally zeroed in on a conversation I had overheard between my mother and grandmother a few years back. I was as usual, having my daily play date with the cat and mouse. The cat had cleverly placed a pile of dynamite strategically under a generous portion of cheese; a fool-proof plan to be rid of his rival once and for all. Not to be fooled, the mouse slyly takes one of the dynamite sticks and sneaks around to put it right behind where the cat is hiding. The cat, who is waiting excitedly to see his cheddar borne explosive find its victim, is completely oblivious to the turn of events. A match, which matches the mouse in size, is lit and the ember starts the fuse. Just as the fuse is running out, I hear my name being mentioned by raised voices. Without turning around, I perked my ears and heard my mother say under her breath “I can’t believe you stopped me from aborting him”. My grandmother’s voice was shaky now, “It is not God’s will” she said. Not fully understanding the words being spoken, I caught up with my friends the cat and mouse, who were now frantically running circles in the house. I had never thought very much, or even understood the conversation until now. We learned a new word in school today, abort. To stop, end, cancel or halt. In her examples the teacher referred to space missions or military operations, but to abort a person? I wasn’t quite sure how it could be applied. There lying in my bed staring at the ceiling, I made the realization that I had made many times before; she never wanted to bring me into this world. My life is a mistake. Everything I have done, my accomplishments, my feelings, aspirations; just one big mistake. So with tears rolling down my check, I place two musty socks over my ears and let the muffled bass of the music cradle me to sleep, knowing that tomorrow I’ll at least be able to visit that wonderful house with the cat and the mouse.


I set it up so perfectly. I was ready to start, no doubt. As I opened the container the smell wafted through the thick air and I took a deep breath in. Oh, how I loved that smell. I squeezed my hand into the small container, barely fitting. I took up the contents of the cylinder and pressed it against my face. What a great feeling. As I squeeze, it mushes through my fingers. I love this. I get lost in a trance as I roll my play-doh against the desk. So mesmerizing, how it forms a snake-like shape as I continue moving my hand; back and forth, back… and forth. I soon snap out of my beautiful daydream and start to make my, “spaghetti dinner.” I take out the noodle maker and press the red play-doh into the base. I get excited as I push down and the red, noodle-like play-doh squeezes through the little holes in the top of the pasta machine. I keep pressing and the noodles keep coming. I stop suddenly, remembering that my spaghetti HAS to be more than one color so I clean out the red from inside the maker and put in the blue play-doh. I push down and squeeze with all of my might and the noodles ooze from the pores like water out of a faucet. What a rush. What a beautiful, “spaghetti dinner.” I decide to switch to green and I push it into the noodler’s ba…oh no…no, this just can’t be. I regretfully pressed down, as BLUE-GREEN playdoh pushes through the centimeter holes in the top, and everything was ruined.


(I know Im really bad at writing but Im annoyed because my sister couldn't be bothered to read it and I just want someone to read my story. Also Im not an adult or anything so my grammer is probably bad and so is the story itself sooo yeah) **The higher up, the bigger fall** **Chapter one - Something new, Something different** Gia's eyes are locked on the plain white roof of her room, just about as plain as her life is—her body sweating from the heat of the sun glistening through the small window of her apartment room. It's only affordable because the bathroom and kitchen are shared with the other residents. The hollow silence is filled with all the philosophical questions swaying freely in her head. The stale air coming in from the slightly opened window breathes her back to consciousness. She realizes she needs to get up. Though it's hard to find a reason why. Still half asleep she reaches for her phone, her eyes snap wide open when she sees that school started twenty minutes ago. “Again?” she whispers to herself with a low sigh, while grabbing her towel and heading to the bathroom. The second the hot water caresses her skin she regrets getting in. Her body feels lighter as if she can let go of all her worries. Her eyes close and she starts to slowly drift away. “EEK!!” her whole body flinches at the sudden attack of cold water stabbing at every part of her body. Like a reflex, her hands dart for the shower handle. Gia concludes that the world is telling her to stop wasting time and actually go to school. She puts on her clothes and looks in the mirror before leaving. The bags under her eyes have gotten way more apparent after the little sleep she got over the weekend. Her short black hair looks messier after being exposed to the water, and her choppy bangs covering her face are making it harder to see but she doesn't have the time or motive to fix it. Instead she covers it with the same hood she's been wearing for the last week. When Gia catches sight of the school her heart freezes and she completely forgets to breathe. *I don't know why I'm even hesitating, It's not like I care. I just have to get through today, It's fine. I'll be okay.* She thinks to herself, swallowing the anxiety down her throat and into her stomach before entering the school gates. She walks into the classroom during the middle of the session and doesn't even bother knocking. The teacher sighs loudly and is about to open his mouth to give another one of his never-ending speeches about how much she's disrespecting him. And of course, he's also going to give her detention, well that's what she thought but he stops himself mid-sentence, readjusts his tie, and says with a calm voice “You're late, again. I understand it's the first day of the week but I would appreciate it if you showed some respect and came to class on time so that you don't disturb the rest of the students.” Gia tries to avoid looking at him but she just has to check if he's being serious. Her brows dart upwards when she sees him forcing a smile at her, for the first time in… well… a long time she feels the urge to laugh. The urge is even bigger than her confusion right now, so much that she rebelliously cracks a smile. All eyes are on her but she is so distracted trying to contain her laughter that she forgets to move until the teacher clears his throat and says: “Gia, would you please sit down”, there's slight aggression in his tone but he's still adamant about keeping calm. She hurries to her seat but only when she sits down does it strike her. The unfamiliar scent. The person sitting in front of her, this entire time she hadn't noticed. Gia freezes in time, her own soundproof box with only her thoughts entering and nothing else. A refreshing scent of roses. Her wavy auburn hair flows gracefully down her back, her white clear skin, so smooth and shiny it's reflecting the sun. A transfer student? There's something off, something magical about her presence, like a blossomed flower in the midst of a dead forest. If only Gia could see her face, if only she could hear her voice, or just know her name. The curiosity is killing her, she can't think of anything throughout the whole class, thoughts like *If I had just come on time* and *Why isn't she turning around even once?* Never has she felt this much interest in someone or something. Every day is surrounded by loneliness and emptiness, frozen, stuck in the same never-ending loop. But today is different, she can feel it, the heat melting into her life. And the source is the girl sitting in front of her.


You see, there is this tunnel and it is starting to feel more like a labyrinth and that light, the supposed light at the end of the tunnel, it's never where you would expect. I wonder how I am to find my way when the directions change so often, and I am taunted by the thought of a short-cut. The corridors are thin, the old paint flaking off the walls. It's so cold. The dampness settles on your skin, the drips echoing in the distance reminding you of the horror you're in. You can call out all you want but nobody will hear you, this place doesn't exist after all. You’ve have walked for years, at some points reaching beyond the edge, feeling the sunshine and tasting the moisture in the fresh air. Yet only to be pulled back into the darkness wondering which way was which. That little taste of the outside gives you hope. Each turn and each direction leads to a different outcome, you begin to wonder how there is so many. The floor you find yourself again as the tunnels seem to enclose around you. The thought of taking one of those short cuts becomes almost too good to be true. Now is the time to remind yourself, the consequence. A deal with the devil, shake the thought or make the mistake. What haven't you tried? Have you been this way before? Disorientation holds you as the tunnels begin to change. It's happening again, when you look up expect to not recognise the tunnels. There will be more corridors and they’ll be leading in all different directions once again. The tunnel wears make-up. It's out to get you. So answer me this? How are you to get out of a place that doesn't exist, yet controls you so well? You don't understand, this run's deeper than your chemicals. This place has a hold, you don't get to leave because you solved a chemical. Cause and effect, effect and cause. This tunnel runs beyond your mental, beyond your physical. Beyond your control. At this point, it's dark in there but not all is lost. You look back to the solution you once found wandering these spindly lines a long time ago. Control. You realise the more you can control, the less the tunnel seems to hold onto you. Unfortunately, without realising it, you've wandered down a forbidden short-cut. At first you welcome, almost encourage the simple mistake. You know you should turn around while you can. You know where this goes, we've been here before. At some point, the patter of paws was sounded through-out the tunnels. United with a gift from the outside, a friend. Here, just for you, and you, for him. It's okay as he walks the tunnels with you, he doesn't feel that sort of despair but he's knows you need him. He'll never be far now. Even in the darkest parts his fur will be less than a reach out away. believe it or not he needs you just as much. It will still happen, the disorentation, the direction changing, the taste of the outside and taking a wrong turn here and there, but it will become easier. The labyrinth is like the universe, it will never get smaller. Always expanding. The more years you spend wandering, the more turns, directions and tunnels will exist in this place that doesn't exist. It will get lighter, it will get darker, the tunnels thinner and sometimes thicker. Some colder and some slightly warmer.


I'm looking for some feedback on my story or constructive criticism. Anything about taking out or adding things or whatever thoughts come your way would be helpful!  I Have A Friend  So, I have this friend. For some reason I feel sad before I even start to talk about her. She went to a Christian school growing up and made sure everyone knew it was her grandparents that sent her here, not her parents. She mentioned that she grew up with the Christian religion bashed into her by her grandparents and I’m pretty sure at this point she looked sick of it. Her Mom wasn’t as religious, so at least she got away from it occasionally. This girl just didn’t fit in with anyone at her little Christian Academy. This friend and I always thought Christians could sense someone who didn’t belong. You could tell she didn’t know who she was by the way she flip-flopped between the shy, quiet kids and the loud popular kids. I don’t think she ever stuck with one group. It was a small school with even smaller classes, so it was hard not to notice everything about everyone. The teachers didn’t seem to care about her one way or another and the other kids were always a little bit more interested in someone else. She always seemed to be the second or third choice. My friend did at one point find another friend named Audrey who she absolutely clicked with and we all became best friends, girl power and all that blah blah blah. Audrey brought out our crazy sides, gave us a reason to get up every day and was just someone to share things with. Neither of us had ever had a friend like her. We were jealous of Audrey a little bit but not enough to hate her, just enough to admire her. Our new best friend Audrey played the guitar, had a great family that loved their kids and all their kids’ friends as well. We were accepted in her house. Audrey was a year older than us and went to high school first. We stayed best friends, but Audrey was finding new friends of her own. We got jealous but knew we were still her best friend. We were still in youth group together and making a lot of new friends. All was going well until we had to go to a different high school than Audrey. We drifted apart. All of us did after that. I saw my friend go from this radiant, funny girl who had a sense of belonging back to her old self. I feel like she looked like she did when I first started to recognize her in middle school. Just a shell with nowhere to turn and not a clue where to start. So, this friend of mine seemed to be worse than when she started, in an even bigger pool of people but not knowing any of them. All these new people my friend met were very different and clearly light years ahead of her. It was sadly clear that what my friend did to fit in was a drastic move on her part. We fell even further apart. It tore me apart to watch her start doing whatever everyone else did and say just to lose all hope of having her own personality. I saw this personality form in her when we were with Audrey but now its like the personality she developed drained away completely. She became a master of adapting to all the new situations that got thrown her way. I barely knew her now. It was sad to see her everyday and not be able to do anything about it. Sometimes I would shout at her to get her attention but usually she’d brush me off and shove me away. I saw her throw her whole self into anyone who showed her some sort of attention or what she thought was love. This made it even harder when those people would continuously let her down, but she would move on and do it again. It was like she was a detective interrogating all these different people for the answers, but they just weren’t giving her any. She was searching and searching with no results. I don’t think she knew she was looking for something, but I could clearly see it and looking back its clear that she was desperate. Neither of us really knew what she wanted or needed but I just wanted her to let me help. I could only be so persistent when she just continued to push me away. I could go on and on about how this friend of mine continued to search for answers throughout high school, but it would be a never-ending story and to tell the truth it very well could still be happening today. I saw something happen to her though. I was watching when it happened. She was with a boy she had met not long ago, and it was obvious she was infatuated with him; would do anything he said no matter what. He told her about something he had been doing behind her back and she looked pissed. But I know her better than anyone and I could tell she wasn’t mad about what he had been doing but that he had been doing it without her. Yet again she threw herself into everything whole-heartedly and if this was a part of this boy she thought she loved then she wanted in. I can’t believe it happened. Well, I can’t believe that either of these things really went down. Before it all happened and before he gave her that shot in the arm that would take her away from me for a very long time she looked in the mirror. For the first time in years I looked back at her through that same mirror, she really saw me, and I really saw her. That connection happened, and we knew what we were doing. We knew what path we were taking. She seemed to be saying good bye for now but not forever. There was an awareness that she was making the decision to leave me behind. I don’t think she knew before she was leaving me, but now she was actively doing it. I got to see myself clearly that day and through the rough years I occasionally got to look through the mirror when she let me, and we even had a few screaming matches. In the present I now know I made that choice for a reason and I knew it would be a very long time until I’d see myself again. But It did happen. Although my relationship with my friend is different now than when we were young, at least I get to see her every day.


Aly was running late for her potions examine. Her friends Caleb and Nancy helped with the studying; she'd really need to pass in order to get her magicks license. If she did, she'll be able to perform advanced magic and make high-level potions. Aly always wanted to work in the family's apothecary shop but in order to do so, she needed to take the magic examine...all of them: spells, incantations, and potions. She'd passed the others with flying colors but she needed to pass potions to work in the shop. "Please let them still be there," she pleaded. Aly climbed the steps to the examination room of her high shool. Hidden in Webster High was a magic school for witches, wizards, and any magical beings in-between. Alison Mayes was a witch and her friends were magical too; Caleb's a wizard and Nancy's a witch like Aly. She'd knew them since childhood...well Caleb actually. Nancy was later on in 4th grade. "You're late, Ms. Mayes," her examiner said. "You were supposed to be here 5 minutes ago." "I know, Mrs. Thorne, but there was a power outage last night so my alarm clock didn't go off." "Excuses, Ms. Mayes. If you are going to be successful in life, you'll need to learn how to manage your time wisely. Do you understand?" "Yes, ma'am." "Good. Now, let's begin. On the table are various potions. You'll need to make them correctly in order to pass. One mishap and you'll fail. You have 2 hours to complete." Mrs. Thorne said as she left the room. "No pressure." Who was she kidding? It was plenty of pressure. "Okay, Aly, relax and everything will be fine." She began brewing the potions right away: one was for healing, one was for bringing luck and fortune, and lastly, one for protection. After she was done, she'd poured them into the color bottles. Mrs. Thorne came back and inspected them. "Well?" Aly asked. "Did I pass?" "Don't know. I'll have to take them to the Council to be examine. You'll wait for the results a week from today." "A week?" What is she going to do until them? "Yes, a week. You're free to go." A week flew by and it was a good thing because she was going stir crazy about the results of her tests; she was like this the last time for her spells and incantations tests. She was with her friends at the mall when her parents called with the results. "Really? Yes, yes, thanks for the good news." She hung up and relay the message. "That's great, Aly," said Nancy. "Yeah, you definitely earned it," said Caleb. "I know. All that work as finally paid off. This calls for a celebration. Ice cream is on me." Aly went to the mall's ice cream parlor while they waited outside. "Well?" asked Nancy. "Well what?" asked Caleb. "Aren't you going to tell her?" Caleb blushed because he knew what she was referring to. "There's nothing to say, Nancy. Besides, I don't want to make things awkward between us." "Awkward? Uh, hello, you're in love with her, Caleb. HOW could you not tell her?" "It's complicated, okay?" "How complicated can it be? You two known each other since you were in diapers." "Exactly, I'd never expected to fall for Aly that fast." Caleb and Aly were close and be inseparatable but it wasn't until recently that he notice 'things' about Aly and the attraction that he has towards her. He'd recalled his sweaty hands and racing heart a few months ago and that's when he'd finally realized that he fallen for Aly; he just hope that she realized just how special she is to him before it's too late. "How hard is it to say the words, 'I love you' to her?" "Very hard. I get nervous just thinking about it." Nancy shook her head. "Don't think, Caleb, just go for it. Who knows? Maybe she has feelings for you too." Caleb doubted it but he said, "Okay." Aly returned with the ice cream and passed them out. "Cheers," she said. "Cheers," they said. Weeks went by and Aly was working at the shop when Caleb walked in. "Hey, Caleb, what's up?" "Nothing, just walking around." "Walking around, uh? I know you too well for that lie. Seriously, tell me what's really going on." "Okay, you caught me. I came here to tell you something." "What is it?" she asked. "I wanted you to know that..." He paused for a moment until he said, "...that my grandmother loved that healing salve and wanted to know if your mom would share the recipe with her so she could make it at home." "Okay, I'll ask her but I'm not guaranteeing anything so don't get your hopes up." "I understand, Aly. So, I'm going to go and I'll catch up with you at school on Monday." She had a feeling that he wanted to say something else but she let it slide...for now. "Uh, okay. See you at school." He waved good-bye and left, leaving Aly confused. Later on that night, she was doing math homework when Nancy called; she sounded exicted when Aly answered. "What are you so happy about?" she asked. "Duh, about you and Caleb." "Me and Caleb, what?" "What do you mean 'what'? Didn't he tell you?" "Tell me what?" "Unbelievable, he was supposed to tell you that he was in love with you." She was supposed to mumble it but Aly heard. "Caleb is what with me?" "Oh, did I say that out loud?" Nancy asked. "Uh, yeah, you did. You said that Caleb is in love with me." "Yes, I did and it's true. You two have know each other for the longest and it was bound to happen. So, do you feel the same way about him?" Nancy's question caught her off-guard. Of course she did but didn't want to say anything out loud. Her heart started to race. "Well...maybe." "Well, you need to figure it out and tell him. In fact, both of you need to say something soon." Nancy hung up, leaving Aly to her thoughts. Over the weekend, Aly went through the motions and debating on whether or not to tell Caleb. On Monday, she made her decision and decided to tell him. She met him before school started. "Caleb, there's something that I need to tell you." "Well, I do too." They confused at the same time and was shocked by what the other one said. "What?" he asked. "I like, no, love you, Caleb. Always have...I just didn't know to say it." She felt stupid by not saying something. He smiled. "Well, that's a relief. I guess this between us is offical." "I'm relief too." "We can go to the movies as our first date." She smiled too. "I loved that." They kissed, sealing their new relationship. Both of them had a feeling that this was going to be a very interesting experience between them. The End.


The Truth Hurts. As her husband Jacob opened the door for her, Rosalina climbed into their convertible. Leaving the hospital was frightening; the atypical rumbling noise from the car which barely started sounded like thunder hitting the couple. With no parking spaces near the entrance, the couple found parking spaces on the top deck. Out of order elevators forced the couple to run down/back up so they arrived for their appointment promptly. Traffic was significantly different in New Bark City compared with the traffic of Tree Town. Fatigue took over her otherwise optimistic tone.

“How do people breath in this city? I can't believe we arrived on time or alive for that matter. I wonder how many traffic crashes and breathing problems result from living here? I'm glad we don't-” “Darling, please be quiet. I love you. However, I don't know my way around this city and must focus on getting us home...and the car repaired. The GPS isn't working!” Fears of being unable to arrive home given the state of the car and his lack of geographical knowledge made his tone sound unkind. He rarely spoke unkindly to his wife. Guilt caused him pain similar to the pain his wife was feeling.

His wife's temporary silence was a blessing. She would have kept rambling. They left home with the top of the convertible down, until the warmth of the sun slowly turned into a dark fog. Hurriedly closing the roof prevented being dipped into blackness. Traffic was minimal and the drivers generally careful in Tree Town. People could walk/ride a bike without fear. In New Bark City, walking/cycling would result in death if the pollution did not take their lives first. Tapping her feet against the floor of the car reminded Rosalina's husband of a child constantly asking 'are we there yet.' The noise was equally as distracting as her chatter. Over an hour would pass before they returned. Jacob was focused on the driving dilemma. Cars were pressed against each other, discouraging him. With speaking forbidden, Rosalina's thoughts occupied her. They were darker than the polluted air. Rosalina racing from Hospital deck 20 to 15 and back was a nightmare run through Hell. All she could hope for was reaching Heaven once her time on Earth ended.

Dr. Johnson spent more time than Hospital policy permitted per patient with this couple. Explaining precisely and answering every question often helped his patients recover he believed. Dr. Johnson's kindness had gotten him into minor trouble on multiple occasions. His 'track record' of success did not effect the Hospital's policies. Literally drug away from their first appointment, Dr. Johnson gave both Rosalina and Jacob his card. About halfway home, Rosalina woke up from a slumber and took out the card. She felt a texture on the back.

“Honey, did you notice he wrote his personal number on the back of the card? Do you think he does that for every patient? Did you give your patients your home number,” inquired Rosalina. She spoke softly, fearing her husband's wrath if her questions interrupted him.

Beholding the black fading away into a clear sky, Jacob realized they were almost home. Confidence restored, he was relieved she was awake and capable of speaking clearly. “Darling, I did not look at Dr. Johnson's card with such detail. He probably writes on the back of all his cards. We saw how much time he takes with each patient, it would not surprise me if he was too busy for all of their questions while working. I never gave my patients my personal phone number! I often got into trouble for spending too much time with a single patient however.”

Turning at the next intersection, the sign 'Entering Tree Town! Enjoy your stay!' was a comforting sight. If they broke down now, the repair shop was within walking distance. The owner often would send an employee or himself down, performing minor repairs on location.

Jacob intended upon pulling over at the shop and walking home with his wife. However, Jacob realized she was too ill to walk. Furthermore, Rosalina's breathing was slower and took more energy away from her. Under normal circumstances, the couple could have walked home. Crossing a wooden bridge from the entrance sign to their home on Lush Island took approximately 30 minutes. Brightly colored shops and other minor attractions lined the main street. The outer area contained many people living in modernized houses/apartments. As perfect as life seemed in Tree Town, they lacked a major hospital. Space for a major hospital was the problem, not the financial burden the city might face. A simple doctor's office existed, however, the medical personal had only basic training. The current building could not handle large quantities of people like typical hospitals. On the bright side, convenient 'house calls,' were provided because the office employed many physicians. Dr. Jacob Houghman was a geneticist and worked part-time for the office. The next day, Jacob picked up the phone and called his current supervisor at Humanity Research Facility. Their primary research involved treatments/cures for genetically inherited diseases. Unlike a doctor's office/hospital, Jacob could use the knowledge he spent the majority of his youth learning for practical benefits. The phone lines were so busy he took three attempts before finally receiving an answer. “Good morning ma'am, may I please speak with Dr. Myra Jones,” Jacob politely inquired. He could have asked for her husband, Dr. Michael Jones. Their personalities were similar enough; firm, practical yet kind. However, Jacob felt he would obtain the cooperation from another woman who could potentially sympathize with him. Placed on hold for over 30 minutes, the small specialized branch was quite busy. Receiving results from an ongoing study of 'Ripping Disease' likely caused the unusually long delays. Waiting gave Jacob time for remembering precisely how miserable Rosalina felt all throughout the night. With her condition growing worse and local limitations, he briefly considered taking her back to the hospital (the closest hospital from home). Finally, his call was answered. “Hello? Good morning Dr. Houghman. How are you and your wife?” Dr. Myra had no idea a small talk question would lead into a larger discussion. “Unfortunately, she is not well. The New Bark City Hospital diagnosed Rosalina with the 'Ripping Disease.' She is having difficulty adjusting with her new medications and I'm worried about her breathing. I am afraid of leaving her alone...May I please take the week off? Requesting such a long time off on short notice is atypical behavior for me. I have all my vacation or sick days too.”

Hearing the phone drop, possibly break as it hit the floor, briefly startled him more than his wife's heaving in the background. Maintaining his composure was miraculous. Perhaps Jacob's previous experiences as a physician taught him how maintaining professional behavior, regardless of the patient's problems, was deeply important. Too much compassion will rip your soul into pieces, much like the Ripping Disease will 'rip apart' its' victim. Uncertain if he should wait, Dr. Myra quickly grabbed the phone off the ground before Dr. Houghman could end the call. “I'm sorry for the brief interruption. I shouldn't be shocked. I've simply never met someone outside lab testing suffering from the Ripping Disease...unless you count myself. Now her slightly pained expression at the wedding makes sense; Rosalina's nerves were not entirely the cause,” trailing off into a slightly random conversation Dr. Myra returned, presenting her professional appearance, “Yes Dr. Houghman, you make take the week off with my consent. Any who question such choices will report to me personally.”

Relived, Jacob began hanging up, yet Dr. Myra was not yet finished. Switching gears between 'professional' and 'sympathetic' was second nature for a geneticist practicing for decades. She and her husband were both elderly, while Jacob and Rosalina were not quite middle-aged. His gamble of asking her versus her husband paid off; his request may not have been granted by Dr. Michael.

“Jacob, I'm truly sorry about your wife. I warn you, take great caution with your behavior around her. Your exceptional professionalism will not fulfill her desires; she can read your research on the Ripping Disease if she merely sought her husband's professional insight. I would advise against sharing your work with her.” Dr. Myra had a point; Jacob performed and published the majority of research, with frightening and discouraging results.

“Speaking from personal experience, when I was diagnosed my husband went with the 'knowledge is power' approach. I became paranoid for years. Love and help her. She will eventually thrive under your care. Show her you are a person with feelings, not a mindless robot.”

Trying to lighten the mood and knowing Rosalina was a Doctor of Technological Engineering,

“I wouldn't be surprised if she built a robot once her condition is stable. Technology is improving, don't give up! Decades may pass, but all the research efforts will be rewarded...Blame my husband for my next words; he would kill me if I didn't ask her about participating in an upcoming trial. Worry not, your employment will be unaffected regardless of your choice.” Becoming a professional once more, Dr. Myra suggested,

“Perhaps you should consider renting a one-room apartment near the New Bark City Hospital. Life can be unpredictable and time may not be on your side. Over an hour at best might be her last hour. Given the manner you described Rosalina's condition, she needs her husband not a permanent 'in care' patient home. A few minutes delay could change her situation. Please inform me of her choice regarding the trial. Good bye Dr. Houghman. Say hello and we wish you well.” Finally hanging up, Jacob noticed Rosalina was missing and hurriedly searched the house. Given her poor breathing, blurry her vision and mobility difficulties were so extreme the previous night/that morning, anything could have happened. He found her in his office, sitting at his desk reading. Jacob was conflicted about how he should feel. Rosalina's improved condition delighted him. Reading the novel of medical paperwork obtained the day prior distressed him. Considering Dr. Myra's advice, he grabbed the paperwork from his wife before she could continue reading. “OUCH! You might have broken my wrist! What made you become a monster? Why won't you let me read the documentation first? It's MY life on the line, I should have a say shouldn't I?” Rosalina's voice was mixed with an unusual amount of panic and frustration, which she rarely showed her husband. She felt the same guilt her reaction matching her husband's guilt from the day prior. Rosalina wondered if personality changes were caused by Ripping Disease?

Attempting to disguise his own frustration, Jacob addressed his wife, “Darling, I apologize for your wrist, harming you was not my intention.” Her eyes rolled and her expression was not showing signs of forgiveness as he gently took her wrist. Thankfully, he had not sprained or broken her wrist.

His suspicions were correct. Heightened perception of anything touching her body was yet another symptom. His weak grip made her feel overly sore. Soon, touching the smooth surface of bedroom sheets would cause her as much pain as ripping her arm off. The pages of the books she preferred over 'safe' TV entertainment would be knives cutting into her hands. Leaving the room briefly, he brought back a chair and sat near his wife. Dr. Myra's voice played in his head reminding him about loving his wife, not behaving as a 'professional.' Knowing a brawl would soon begin, Jacob braced himself as he said, “Darling, as much as I understand your points, as both a doctor and more importantly, a loving husband, sometimes disagreements will occur and not end in your favor. Under no circumstance will I allow you to read the medical documentation before I have. If I must lock this file, in a safe I will! For now, I trust you. I assure you this is for the best.” They both realized he should have reworded his statement; unfortunately, you can't edit speech. A small child could have assumed as much in Jacob's opinion. Married for a year, they intended upon preparing for a child. Modifying their home and lifestyle choices would take longer than the 9 months of carrying a child.

Always impatient, 'NOW is always the best time (day or night) for completing a task' was Rosalina's philosophy. Why she immediately desired information was simple enough; preparing for the future. Naturally, the 'a happy wife is a happy life' saying was considered fact by Rosalina. Why should she 'loose' this battle when she had 'won' the majority of their marital disputes? Presumably dead for centuries, whoever coined such a ridiculous phrase would have been murdered by Jacob. Rosalina was rarely foolish and reckless. She could tell when retreating from battle was safer versus fighting a death-match. She accepted she 'lost' the medical documentation battle. Heavy breathing and fatigue, caused by the argument instead of her medical condition, only allowed her to say, “Before we set our lovely island home ablaze, you win. Let's table matter before WWIII starts? I love you, even if I will not always be capable of showing you my heart. How about forgiving each other instead?” Nearly passing out from the shock of her 'surrendering,' he forgave her instantly. Jacob was horrified when hearing 'showing you my heart.' Literally 'showing her heart' via a heart transplant may be one of the many operations she would undergo throughout her life. Given his specialty, at least he would not be asked for his help in any transplant surgery. If something went wrong, he would not be at fault he consoled himself.

However, he was specifically asked if Rosalina would be interested in participating in the upcoming clinical trial. Discussions of potential benefits/problems occurred before she reluctantly agreed. Testing featured women in Rosalina's age range (late 20's-mid 30s).

Although he did not discover its' existence, Dr. Jacob Houghman was currently the lead researcher regarding the Ripping Disease. Passed genetically and only through women, one hypothesis stated the problem existed longer than the medical community realized. The alarming amount of similarly unusual medical conditions throughout the 21st Century resulted in numerous studies which uncovered the truth. Previously, victims were 'treated,' unsuccessfully for several other problems.

Her husband would not be involved with this study because his wife was a participant. His presence may influence her actions, altering the results. One month away from his frustrating work temporarily warmed his heart; living without his wife made him miserable.

Confidentiality clauses prevented knowledge of the exact procedures. Rosalina would privately tell husband about the previous month. Missing him deeply, she ran into his welcoming arms. Hugging resulted in bandages wrapped around her like a mummy becoming caught on his sleeves, revealing scars. A pain medication prescription did not indicate hopeful results. Upon publication, Jacob would instantly read the paper.

Both Doctor Jones felt their friend/co-worker was owed the truth before the research was published. The couple was desperately trying for a child. They did not want Rosalina and Jacob wasting their time. Instead, they should pursue alternatives. Inviting them over, avoiding being heard at work, the elderly doctors somberly reported, “Children and post-menopausal women initially displayed more symptoms, hence your wife was part of the first research study featuring women her age. Problems/treatments of 'young adults' were never addressed because of the emphasis on the other demographics-” forgetting Rosalina was not a medical doctor, they halted their long winded explanation filled with medical jargon and simplified their words. There was little point in dancing around the issue, therefore, Dr. Myra stated the truth, “Findings show a heartbreaking result; women with Ripping Disease are also infertile. All the tests of 10,000 women throughout the USA showed no improvement with any medications or other treatments.” Dumbstruck, Rosalina and Jacob both cried an ocean of tears. Both Doctor Jones gave them hugs and many encouraging words. The Jones couple had little luck finding an adoption agency who would permit an 'unstable couple' to adopt. Perhaps in the 21st Century and once Rosalina was stable, they could consider searching for an open-minded agency. When her condition would improve significantly was only known to Rosalina's body.

The hopeful couple feared they would never experience providing parental love. What if views had not changed since Dr. Myra's attempts? Dr. Michael's 'at least you can have as much sex without worry' joke did not help. Dr. Myra's jabbing him in the ribs for his stupidity did place a small smile on the young couple's faces.

“Perhaps you ought build a 'robot' Dr. Rosalina, Technological Engineering PhD? Use your education! Why not experiment? You might enhance your own lives and other too.” Dr. Myra was trying to lighten the mood as she drove the couple home. They were drenched in darkness. They would need more than medical interventions could provide so they could see the light in life. Intrigued by the thought of creating an 'android,' (not a 'robot'), the perfect child from a certain point of view, the gears inside Rosalina's head began turning. Soon, she prayed, actual gears would be turning within the body of an (almost human) android. The experiment could be a useful distraction from her suffering. Gazing upon his wife's striking green eyes, now brighter than decorative lights with her beautiful face expressing hope at last calmed the nervous wreck Jacob became. The light in his deep blue eyes and easygoing expression returned. They saw the truth and a potential light at the end of a distant tunnel. Nobody believed Rosalina would actually take such a joke seriously...Not just yet.


I open my eyes. Where am I? Blinded by the intense bright light radiating from the sky Itchy grass rubbing against my arms as the breeze gently blows through the blades Perfectly warm rays of sun shine down onto my face creating a radiant glow around my head The cold solid earth beneath me soaking small bits of moisture through my shirt creating a feeling of sweat down my back Everything is so visceral, so vibrant But I can’t move The physical feelings in my body are slowly fading With each moment my body becomes more and more numb I reach down to touch my stomach As I pull my fingers back up into my line of sight I see dark maroon blood dripping from my finger tips I loose feeling all the way down to the tips of my toes A shadow slowly starts casting over my body and blocks the sun out of my face I can clearly see its my neighbor Ed Walker He stares at me for a moment and says…. “I told you to stay away from her” \*\*BAM\*\* My ears rang and my body flinched as though I have just been kicked by a startled horse I can’t feel any actual pain though Ed walks up a little bit closer “I told you to stay away from her damnit,” he screams \*\*BAM\*\* Everything goes dark I can hear the sound of the wind fading from my ears I can no longer see, hear, feel, taste or smell I think I’m dead In a moment I feel as though I’m transported through time and space at speeds far beyond anything I have ever experienced My body stops abruptly I'm no longer laying in the fields of my farm in Georgia I don’t know where I am There is nothing here No one around I scream HELLO! Nothing HELLO!! This time the skies start to open up like eye lids being exposed to first day light Its so bright I feel an overwhelming sense of joy and euphoria Its so warm I feel an embrace around my body but I see no-one there holding me Next thing I know i'm floating through the air looking back at my body as it crumbles to sand and blows away Am I in Heaven? I become fully immersed in the light as I float closer and closer to it. I float for a few moments bodyless. Just my soul.