Scarlett started flipping through the album when she took a long pause. She looked up at her mother and pointed to a picture of a man. “Is that him?” she asked. Her mother’s face turned from calm to an immediate nervousness. She almost didn’t want to acknowledge the picture. “That’s him.” She finally responded with a haunted tone. Her mother couldn’t tolerate to be in the same room while that picture was present, so she scurried off into the kitchen. “I have to start getting dinner ready.” Scarlett did not look up, she was too fixated on the picture of the man who had contributed to her existence. He had green eyes just like Scarlett and although the picture was faded and distorted, she could tell by the freckles on his face that he was the reason for her ginger-colored hair. This was the man whom she could’ve someday called father. This was also the man whose name was not allowed to be spoken in her household, not that she could ever break such a rule considering that her mother seemed to be the only one who knew his name. Her mother spent Scarlett’s entire life dedicated to ensuring she never learned his name. He looked like a Fred, but he easily could’ve been a David or a Mathew. Scarlett picked Mathew because it sounded gentle and welcoming. She wanted to imagine her father had some type of humanistic trait in him because according to her mother, he was far from it. In the photo, he had a crooked smile as he was looking down at Scarlett only a year old sitting in her highchair. She had little swirls of red hair on her head coming in, and her big green eyes mirrored Mathew’s. She was smiling with spaghetti sauce as red as her hair all over her mouth and naked chest. The bowl was on the floor from where she had tipped it over the tray on her highchair and Mathew was laughing at Scarlett with the spoon still in his hand. He looked human to her. They looked happy together. She even thought that her mother who was capturing the moment at the time was also happy. Part of Scarlett had wished she could remember the memory, but she knew that it was for the best that she didn’t. She flipped the photo over to find it dated October 5 th 1975, with her mother’s handwriting: Scarlett and Christopher at lunch time. ** It was December 22 nd , 1976 when Scarlett’s mother received the most unimaginable news. There was a man dressed in black slacks and a long black peacoat over his grey collared shirt. He knocked and then spoke through the door. “Mrs. Callaway? This is detective Miles, I’d like to speak with you.” Detective? Her heartbeat began to quicken its pace. A series of questions filtered through her mind. What on earth was a detective doing requesting to speak with her in the middle of the day? Did that pesky old Mrs. Collins call social services on her and her husband again? She had no idea what to expect. She opened the door looking at the detective and the street behind him then focused her eyes back at him. “Mrs. Callaway?” the detective repeated. She nodded. “This is Josephine Callaway. How can I help you detective?” “Mrs. Callaway, I have something I need to share with you. May I come in?” “My baby is asleep-” “It’s crucial you hear what I have to say.” He interrupted. Without a further exchange of words, she moved to one side and let him in. She led him into the common area so that she could keep an ear out for Scarlett who was in the living room napping inside her playpen. They sat down across from each other on a set of brown leather couches. “Can I get you something to drink detective?” “I’m alright.” He responded. He sounded rugged and kept gripping at his chin. “Mrs. Callaway,” he started “are you up to date with the news?” The news? Josephine looked at detective Miles puzzled. “I suppose,” she replied, still unsure of why that was relevant to her. “Then I am sure you are well aware of the several young women that have been missing for the last year.” Josephine was now really confused. She had heard of the women he was talking about. In fact, one of them, Jane Carmichael lived a few blocks down. Poor girl had been missing all summer. Josephine remembered sending her family a dish of green bean casserole a few weeks after she was declared missing. “I’m aware detective. What does that have to do with why you’re here?” “We found them Mrs. Callaway.” “That’s wonderful!” she said sounding relieved. Detective Miles was not celebrating with her. “We found their bodies, Mrs. Callaway. Including the one of your neighbor, Jane.” Josephine’s smile dropped. “Their bodies? Meaning?” “Yes, Mrs. Callaway. All four women were found dead. We were able to identify them this morning.” Josephine’s stomach churned in knots. She lived in a small town, so to picture those poor girls found lifeless somewhere made her fear for Scarlett. She couldn’t understand what would drive someone to hurt others, especially in her quiet little town. Josephine couldn’t help but still wonder how any of this led to a detective seeking to speak with her. Perhaps there was a target against young women on the rise and he would soon discuss the option of a witness protection program so that Scarlett could grow up in a safe community. She was willing to be open to anything that would keep her daughter safe. “The bodies were found in an abandoned house underneath the basement along with some tools that to belong to your husband.” He paused. “Evidence shows he used them to dismember the bodies.” The seconds appeared to have gone by in slow motion. Her husband? How? This had to have been some sort of mistake. Before she could get a word in, detective Miles continued with his story. “Josephine,” his voiced echoed “the DNA samples that we found matched with your husbands. We have placed him under arrest.” Josephine’s breathing became difficult and there was a somber sound in her ears like bells ringing. Scarlett began to cry in the next room making Josephine feel even more overwhelmed. She stood up quickly to tend to the baby but knocked over a small porcelain elephant siting on the coffee table. It was a Christmas present from Christopher the night he had proposed to her. Detective Miles stood up attempting to help her, but she swatted his arms out of the way. Her life was under attack and she could not grasp on to the reality that her husband was a murderer-a monster.

Josephine kneeled next to the playpen starting at Scarlett crying through the netted wall and like an infant, she began to cry with her. ** Scarlett was twenty-five years old sitting on a plastic hard black chair staring into a glass that had a telephone line on each side of it. She was moments away from meeting Christopher Callaway, the infamous cold-blooded killer of Jacksonville, Oregon. She sat there, holding the picture she had found in her mother’s photo album when she was eight years old. She stared at it wondering what her father now looked like. She was aware of his crimes and wanted to meet him before his final moment alive. He was scheduled to be electrocuted at noon and was granted one last conversation with his daughter. She was nervous and excited to finally meet him. She wasn’t proud of what he had done, but she had to do this. Then, from across the glass, a tall and slender man in an orange jumpsuit and reddish grey hair, sat down in front of her with his hands resting in handcuffs. No tattoos, no large muscles, just an older man with terrible life choices sitting in front of her. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Instead, they glanced at each other as if they were attempting to read the other’s mind. It was like looking in a time capsule, their green eyes were like magnets locking them into deep thought. After several minutes, Christopher finally spoke. “You have your mother’s nose”. He smiled the same crooked smile. Scarlett had so many thoughts in her head with limited time. She didn’t know what to say, so she asked him the first thing that came out of her mouth. “Why’d you do it?” Their eyes never looked away from each other. His crooked smile was gone. She wished she could’ve taken it back, but it was already too late. In one breath, Christopher responded in the most truthful way. “Because I wanted to, babe.” A single strand of tears escaped Scarlett’s eyes. She slid the photo through a small opening and stood up. “Goodbye dad.” ** It was eleven forty-five and Christopher was walking down a dark and cold hallway accompanied by two prison guards and a priest. He was taken into a room with a bright light and unwelcoming walls, his electric throne awaiting him. He sat in his chair like a king being coronated. He sat there with his infamous crooked smile and the photo of him and Scarlett in his hand. He looked up and glanced through the glass wall in front of him to find a row of chairs, all but one, empty. Scarlett stood before him, once again locking eyes with her father. They stared at each other for the last two minutes transferring each other’s pain, memories, and perhaps even apologies. Christopher held on to the photo tightly in his right hand, never looking away from Scarlett. At last, it was noon and the king wore his crown with pride until the very end, the last piece of evidence of him and Scarlett, burned in his hands. She did not take her eyes off him until they took him away. After a few moments had gone by, Scarlett stood up and was escorted out of the building by a guard and that time she made sure not to ever look back.


I don't remember the time before the ocean. I don't recall a time when the waves weren't tossing weights across my body threatening to pull me to the gentle foreboding of the earth's watery depths. All I know now is hold on tight to the fragmented raft I was upon and pray for land. I don't remember who told me that though. I don't know how long I have been here, the sun comes and goes. I can't remember to remind myself to keep count of the sun. Before... who was I before? My thoughts race and I feel my blistered lips. I can remember the feeling of fresh cool water traveling past my lips and splashing down my throat but I don't remember who I am. I can remember music but not the dances. I still hear it when the moon is reflected into the water, the reminiscing haunting sounds of the voices I once knew. If I ever even knew them. I pretend I do. It makes the exhaustion I feel in my bones easier to bear. My legs feel like they've become part of the ocean, my trousers no longer heavy on my body. Sometimes I feel something brush against me but I tell myself it's only fish. I can barely hold my head up anymore, my stomach stopped growling days ago.

He gazes up at the poor soaked creature and wonders if it's injured. He would rise to the surface and brush against it to check for movement. Waiting until nightfall to push the creature to the rocky shoreline of where he called home. Home for as long as he could remember. There was a ship some moons ago, he watched it catch flame as the men with loud noises ripped it apart. He retreated further into his home and begged they would not come to his island. He stayed curled and trembling, hidden under the safety of the jagged shoreline and waited. Waiting for dawn was a winning game for someone with no memory and nothing to lose. After the sunlight spilled over the horizon and hit his bare skin he knew it was safe. Slipping himself out from between the rocks he braced himself against the waves and began swimming towards the cadaverous remains of the ship.

He took rope and tied together some remains, that was when he heard the crying. He swam tentatively towards the sound and saw them. A mess of wet brown curly hair and dark skin, the fabric of their shirt clinging to their body.

Someone told him a story about salty tears and salty oceans but now he couldn't remember how it went as he swam closer. It was a person to be sure, so he ducked underwater and swam a bit closer. Long dark legs and ripped trousers and their shirt exposing their midriff floated along the top of the sea. The legs kicked when he reached a hand out and startled him away back to his cove.

He waited a moon to return to the wreckage, and when he did he saw the person again. This time he decided that if it's still alive tomorrow he would drag it to shore and see what it did. He took back to the wreckage and perused about seeing what caught his interest. He took back his findings and waited until daylight the next day. He repeated his journey to the floating body and found it still kicked when he touched their legs. This settled it.  He pulled down.

Water burns. It burns in my lungs as it's all I consume as it envelops me. It burns in my chest and I reach for anything, kicking my legs, thrashing my arms and I know something is holding me. Water burns in an oxymoronic way that there are endless hours and the sweet sorrow of goodbyes. My head breaks the surface and I inhale the blinding atmosphere and then I'm plunged back into the sea. My hair swamps my face and I feel weaker and weaker. The weight of the water fills my body and I find myself thinking this isn't so bad. Then I feel the sand under my toes.

Then my calves

Then I'm thrown onto the soft sand. My eyes flutter open and shut and I see a face hovering over mine. A life giving kiss. They push air into my lungs and compress my chest until I feel the water backtrack out of my body and I lean over and throw up the ocean I had inhaled. Falling on my back, I see hair the color of the sand and eyes such a vivid color, I scramble my mind to remember the name. My vision spots out and my last thought before the darkness consumes me is: green.

It's pretty, he mused. His fingertips grazing over the creature, their hair was coiled about their face in the sand like a halo. He hoped they would wake up. He dragged them up higher from the tide and left them in the shade of a tree. He waited. He dribbled coconut water on their blistered pink lips. Waiting would reward his curiosity in time, this he knew.

I was awake by the time the sky was streaked with orange and pink. Sleep had never felt so delicious. I knew Green Eyes was next to me without opening my eyes, he pushed water through my lips and traced my face with his fingertips. A man. I felt him lower water to me again and I opened my eyes slowly. His green eyes freeze in fear and he scrambles away from me, dropping the water in the sand. I slowly push myself towards a seated position, resting on the base of a tree, my muscles unfamiliar with gravity from floating in the sea for who knows how long. My eyes readjust to the dimming light and I see him. He's close to the ground , his muscular arms holding him up.

“Hello,” I croaked out, my voice unused. My body aches all over. I try a smile, but my head feels hazy. I close my eyes again.

He pulls himself closer to me, I slump into his shoulder unwillingly, my body just gives out.

It spoke! Their voice drier than the lips from which the greeting fell from, but they spoke! He pondered what to say to them when they awoke but decided to wait until the moment was right. He left them against the tree and retreated into the sea, his body was unexplainably hot from the person against him. He sinks into the sea hoping to quell his nerves. He hadn't spoken out loud in quite some time, he had sung of course, every night. He tasted the greeting in his mouth, he then remembered their mouth. The curl of their lashes. The way their nose sloped and the way their dark cheekbones were blushed with sunburn. He shook his head and looked towards shore. They were standing! He anxiously swam to shore and felt the waves roll against him softly.

“ Hello! “ he called out to them, his voice resonating in his chest. He waved. He watches as the realization strikes on their face. He watches them stumble towards the shoreline and stand a few feet away. The sun is slowly sinking now, the same way they are as they fall into their knees. The sudden flashing memory of a woman comes across his mind, the heaving chest, the curve of her waist the way her hips filled his hands. He found these similarities in the person now staring at his posed form. The creature he saved was a woman.

He pulled himself closer, so she pulled away. “Hello there,” he murmurs, a hidden melody dancing in his throat. Somewhere in him inching and her inching away, she stopped moving. He inched closer and closer and the sky covered them in a gentle blanket of inky blue. He pushed her onto her back and watched her brown skin grow hotter under his touch.

He was almost on top of me. His strong arms caging me in and his green eyes peering into my soul. His tail pressed against my bare calf, and I could feel the cool wet scales dragging against me. His tail was so long it stretched beyond my feet. His tail. His tail. This is factual. His hand trails up my bare stomach and he pushes my hair out of the way. He lowers his head and places a single kiss on my collarbone, I stretch my neck exposing more skin for him. My eyes flutter up to the stars, they twinkle gently and unchanging. They are the last thing I see before I feel his teeth sink into my stupidly exposed neck and he kills me.

Sirens.


I never expected to become a fashion icon. Does anyone? I’m the last possible candidate for such status. I never considered the potential impact of paparazzi, photo shoots, or celebrity on my simple life. There were none. My time was my own, until… But here I am, standing in the wings. (Wings – get it?) While awaiting my debut, I’m fighting off butterflies. My life transformed after that photograph went viral. Of course, Phil isn’t a mere photographer. He discovered me. He has vision. We became friends. He’s my trusted manager. And, thanks to him, I’ve released my own line of cosmetics. You must’ve heard of it. Or, have you been living under a cabbage leaf? I call it, ‘All Abuzz.’ I should begin at the beginning. I’m Dottie. As I said, no one was more surprised than me over recent events. I should explain some things about my background, before fame lit up my life… You might have guessed I’m no ordinary supermodel. Before Phil discovered me, I was your garden variety ladybug. Nothing special. Yes, a ladybug. I’m quite aware of certain anti-insect biases in human society. Though not very sociable, I assure you I’m benign. I’m a loner. And I’m told I’m also cute as hell. The day Phil and I met, I’d finished my favorite lunch and had settled on a leaf to doze in the sun. A shadow moved and Phil loomed over me. Actually, I saw his magnified eye peering at me through what looked to be the bottom of a coke bottle. Later, he explained that was the macro lens of his camera. He’d only wanted to snap a picture of the ‘cutest little bug he’d ever seen.’ But from my vantage, he was intruding on my space and taking my picture without asking permission. No introduction. Nothing. What cheek. I called out, “Hey! Hey! Hold it there, big boy. What gives you the right to take my picture? You have a signed release? I may have been around the block once or twice but I didn’t arrive spattered on the business side of a windshield.” That gave Phil pause. He leaned in. “Can you speak up? I didn’t quite catch that.” I continued. “You a stalker or what?” That’s when he said he was a nature photographer. I’d heard of them. Bumblebees were always comparing notes on the best locations. “So, why me?” I asked. Phil chuckled. “You may not know it but you are so cute. Cute as…” I did a slow burn. “Yeah, I’ve heard that. Never mind.” Longlegs, my ‘daddy,’ wore that out. But Phil had my attention. He told me about the markets for pictures; fashion, news, art, and so on… He insisted how honored he was to capture my beauty. He said, “I can help you.” “Help me what? My life is fine without your blocking the sun.” He moved out of my light. “Wait! There is something. Can you deal with all the birds? They vex me. Can’t enjoy my lunch without worrying I’ll be some bird’s lunch.” Ants have colonies. Bees have hives. But we ladybugs enjoy our solitude. A day alone is a day in good company. Phil ran into the yard waving his arms and shouting. Normally unflappable, the birds took off and didn’t look back. Panting a little, he returned wearing a huge grin. “Haven’t done that since I was a kid. Happy to help.” He seemed sincere. We found agreement. If my image got attention, he would reimburse me for my time. Basically, all the aphids I could eat. Sounded like a win/win deal. I had doubts though. I said, “Sounds great, Phil. But I’m not some moth, dazzled by bright lights. What’s the catch?” “I understand, Dottie. You don’t know me. Let me prove myself. You won’t feel like bat guano.” I told him, “Okay… Let’s try. Step by step.” A few days later, Phil found me in the garden and told me how many thousands of clicks my picture received. That’s a lot of aphids. He showed me my photo on some rectangular gizmo he held in his hand. I can’t deny my surprise. I’d never looked in a mirror. I had no idea, no concept of what a ‘photograph’ is or what I looked like. I figured my family resembled me, but vanity didn’t run in my crowd. But, to tell the truth, I could see it. I am cute! And I’m a bug. So there! But what Phil told me next, blew me away. I was so shocked, I wanted to fly away home. He said women everywhere want my ‘look,’ whatever that means. I don’t know. Who expected polka dots to be all the rage? He set up a meeting with a cosmetics firm wanting to offer a product for women seeking that ‘look.’ My look. Phil introduced me to the team. He assured me he and I were partners. He also warned me the buying public can be fickle. What’s popular this week might be passé in a month. I said, “Don’t worry about me, Phil. I’m in it for the duration. I’m not some fruit fly – here today, gone with the dawn.” The meeting went very well. I did my version of the ‘fly on the wall.’ Phil represented us well. I felt respected. Some details got into the weeds a bit. I know nothing about cosmetics. And fine print is for those who can read. Women want my look? I’m here to help. They told us we’d get our own shelf in the big outlets. And my picture would be featured on the wall above my product. Like the other supermodels. A few weeks later, Phil took me to see the display at a free-standing make-up store. I’m a bug so, of course, I’d never seen anything like it. I couldn’t believe the swarm of women wanting my makeup. The staff kept restocking the shelves. Customers did ‘selfies’ with my big picture over their shoulder. All the jostling got unnerving. Phil kept me incognito, riding on his ear, so I’d feel safe. That night, I hosted a party in. It was huge. The garden was crawling with family and friends. They couldn’t believe our good fortune. Aphids, aphids everywhere! Of course, some neighboring ladybugs took an attitude, saying they were cuter than me. Bunch of termites… They may be. I don’t care. But Phil found me! I have ‘the look.’ One man’s bug is another man’s cutie. So, that brings my story up to date. The emcee brought Phil onstage to tell my back story. I stood in the shadows, about to go out and strut my stuff. Phil told the crowd I don’t do autographs. He asked them to respect my privacy. No crowding, please. He said, “You get it. Don’t bug her.” That got a big laugh. Then Phil shouted, “Everybody! Let’s welcome Ms. Dottie Ladybug!” Music swelled. A spotlight lit the curtain that hid me. That was my cue. Applause rippled. I can’t tell you how I felt that moment. So many people came to see me. Me! Little Dottie from the garden. So strange. Beyond comprehension. But the music kept going and so did the applause. All those hands clapping. One slip and that’d be it. Oops! Squashed. Bye, bye, Dottie! What a sendoff! It was now or never. I braced myself and took flight out of the shadows and into the blinding spotlight. I almost lost my way. I’m used to trees and hedges. The hall was immense and filled with people. My image, a thousand, million times bigger than me, was projected on a screen overhead. Was that me? How could it be? But I trusted Phil. He’d helped me the whole time. I made a beeline to the podium where a silver plate lay covered by a white cloth. Cameras were aimed so everyone could see the real me, up close for the first time. Wow! When I landed, the music stopped. The applause stopped. Then, crickets. All I heard were crickets. You never know who your friends are until you become a supermodel and see who shows up to your first show. The crickets came through. They weren’t ladybugs, but our families always got along. They showed up! They spoke my language! The show was a success. I was even on television (whatever that is). I had my moment in the sun. Happy I didn’t need to speak, I did what I was best at – being cute. Yes, I’d made a splash, so to speak. But you know how fickle fashion is. Tastes change. When sales flagged, I told Phil I’d had enough. We agreed I had a good run. Phil bought a private garden for me and my family. And aphids galore! I returned to my quiet life to enjoy peace and quiet with my family and friends. We were set. Life was good. And I’m still cute.


“Quiet down!” I yelled at my oldest daughter Anne, who is nine, as we got into the car.

“But Tommy won’t leave me alone.” She whined as her six year old brother poked her.

“Tommy, leave Anne alone. Anne quit whining.” I tell both of them and turn the music up as I pull out of the driveway.

The last Sunday of every month, we have a family tradition. We always go to our local grocery store, get the groceries that we need, and then go get ice cream from the ice cream shop down the street. We eat the ice cream in the car and when we get home, we make chicken and baked potatoes and eat it while watching a movie.

Michael, my desisted husband, was teaching my oldest boy, Jake, who is sixteen now, to make the chicken before he passed away. Jake still makes the chicken every Sunday though in memory of Michael.

We pull up to the store and head inside. I grab a shopping cart and turn it around so Jake can put Tommy in it but Jake wasn’t there. I look outside and see him running towards the store.

“Sorry.” He said when he gets inside.”I was texting my girlfriend.”

“It's okay.” I tell him as he sets Tommy in the cart.” I was just a little startled.”

“Oh and speaking of my girlfriend, can her and her family come so you can all meet each other?” He asked. They had been dating for two weeks now but only Anne and Tommy have met her because of busy schedules.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun, just make sure we have enough food, okay.” I tell him.

“Okay, thanks.” He said and grabbed the cart from me.

We finished all our shopping and headed to the ice cream shop. We went inside and we all got our normal orders. Tommy got twist ice cream in a cone, Anne got twist ice cream with gummy bears in a cup, Jake got an M&M blast and I got a cookie dough blast.

I paid for the ice cream and drove home. I pulled into the driveway around three oclock and we started unloading the groceries. When four oclock finally rolled around, Jake grabbed what he needed and started cooking. Most of the time it only took about an hour but with more food to cook this time, it took about an hour and a half.

Jake had finished cooking dinner and was in the shower when the doorbell rang. I got off the couch, set my book on the coffee table and went to answer the door but Tommy beat me to it.

“Hi Lizzy!” Tommy said excitedly.

“Hi Tommy.” Lizzy, who I assume is Jake's girlfriend, said.

I walked to the door and shooed Tommy off before greeting her.

“Hi, I’m Amber, Jake's mom, you must be Jake's girlfriend.” I said and shook her hand.

“Yes, it's so nice to meet you finally. I wanted to come the past few weeks but we have just been super busy.” she tells me.

“No worry.” I tell her and look around,”Where are your parents? I thought they were coming?”

“They are. They had to go get gas but will be here in a few minutes.”She explained.

“Oh, no problem. How about you come inside. Jake is in the shower but should be out in a few minutes.” I tell her and lead her into the living room.

“You have a beautiful home.” she told me and looked at the photos on the wall,” I’m sorry to hear about your husband. Jake talks very highly of him.”

“Thank you.” I tell her and sit down on the couch right as Tommy comes running in.

“Lizzy! Lizzy!” He said, jumping in excitement,”Come see my room.”

“Lizzy looked at me and asked,”Is it okay if I go?”

“Yeah, go right ahead.” I told her and Tommy grabbed her hand and led her down the hallway to his bedroom. I grabbed my book and was about to start reading when the doorbell went off again. I set my book back down and opened the door to see.

“Henry?” I asked,” Is that you?”

“Oh my gosh. Amber? Long time, no see.” He says.

When I was in eighth grade, Henry moved to this town and we became friends fairly quickly. We were friends until freshman year when we started dating. We dated all the way until we were juniors when we decided we were better as friends and broke up. We stayed friends until the end of college when we both went our separate directions and lost contact.

“Yeah, I guess it really has been a long time.” I tell him,” Around seventeen years now.”

“Cool but how do you two know each other?” the women beside him asked.

“Sorry honey.” He apologized,” Amber this is my wife Kelly. Kelly, this is one of my high school friends, Amber.”

“It's very nice to meet you.” I tell her.

“And you. You don’t even know how excited Lizzy has been to meet you. She hasn’t stopped talking about it.” Kelly tells me.

“Well, come in.” I tell them and lead them to the living room

“Is that chicken?” Henry asked,” Because if it is, it smells amazing.”

“Yes. It was Micheals family chicken that we make the last Sunday of every month.” I tell him.

“Oh, where is Micheal by the way?”

“He passed away in a car accident last year.” I tell them, "And then we moved back here. I wanted to reconnect to old friends and live closer to my family.”

“I’m so sorry. He was a good man.” Henry says.

“That he was.” I say and wipe the tears from my eyes.” Now, enough with the sad talk. Let's eat chicken and watch movies.”

I sent Anne to go get everyone and then started filling my own plate. Once everyone's plates were filled, we sat down and watched “The Croods”. By time the movie was done, Tommy was out like a light and Anne was close to passing out.

I put them to bed and sat back down in the living room.

We all talked and caught up until ten o'clock, when Henry and Kelly decided it was time to go home.

“Well, it was great meeting you.” I tell Lizzy.

“You too.” she said and Jake walked her to her car.

“It was also great meeting you and seeing you again.” I tell Kelly and Henry.

“We have to do this again.” Kelly suggested.

“Yes, we do.” Henry agreed,” How about the second Sunday of this month, you come to our house for dinner and a movie?”

“That sounds amazing. See you then.” I tell them.

And that is how we began a new tradition.

Six years later, after Jake and Lizzy finished college and got married, Anne started high school, and Tommy had started middle school, we still met for dinner on the second and last Sundays of every month and now, Lizzy and Jake will be bringing a new member to our tradition. A baby boy.


"I didn't touch it, Arlin, and you can't prove I did!" Nebula yelled, stabbing Arlin with her index finger.

"I don't care if you did!" He met her intensity. With a breath, he continued, "I just want to know who fixed my tablet." "Even if I did, don't think you could catch me with that lie. You've never thanked anyone in your life." "Not to you. You mess around with everything… what… what is the sound?!”

They walked out of the hall into the main room of HQ. Nothing was there, but the noise persisted.

They took a few more steps, surveilled, but still nothing. Another few, but nothing. And another, nothing. Finally, wedgied in the farthest corner lied the source of the sound. Curled tight, a boy sat, beeping and bopping as he played on a tablet. “What are you doing, Lafayette?” Arlin erupted. From the first sound, Lafayette jumped with the tablet tumbling from his lap. “I...I...I…” he stuttered, scrambling for the tablet and his feet. Arlin snatched the device from Lafayette. “This is the one I threw out this morning!” He scrolled through the content. “I didn’t think you were going to use it,” Lafayette squeaked. “He wasn’t,” Nebula said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “This self-destructed! You shouldn’t be able to turn this on let alone play on it! How did you do it?!” He stepped closer. “I don’t… It wasn’t hard… I don’t~” “You’re the one who fixed my tablet! How did you do it?!” He was only ruler length away now. " I don't know?" “What’s going on here?”

Arlin and Nebula turned. Artemis, the leader of the rebel resistance, was standing in front of them with her arms crossed. “What’s going on here?” As Arlin explained, Lafayette sneaked away and scurried down the nearby hallway. No one saw or heard him. Nebula and Artemis had all their attention on Arlin: the former to know what to call out as lies and the latter to find points of comparison with what she knew.

By the time the talking stopped, Nebula had an eyebrow raised to find her head shaking in agreement. "Is that true, Lafayette? Lafayette?!" she yelled, echoing off the walls. "Lafayette?" Nebula swirled around. "We need to find him." "No. I'll find Lafayette. You need to get on your patrol. And you-" she switched her gaze from Nebula to Arlin- "you need to analyze this before something happens to it again." "But-" Nebula pleaded. "Now!" She boomed. Like rats on a sinking ship, Arlin and Nebula fled to their respective duties. Artemis stayed her ground, making them divide around her. When they were gone, her stern expression slipped into a tremble.  She bit her lip, v-lining her gaze to the nearest exit. It was the best place to start in this maze of corridors and rooms. She hugged the left wall and took the first left. She systematically searched this hall and that one, making sure to open each door on her path. Nothing had been placed on this side of the building as of yet which would make it simple to find something or someone out of place. It should have been simple. Empty halls plus empty rooms should equal one easily found boy. What Artemis forgot in her calculation was before coming to them, Lafayette's life was hiding and running.

That fact donned on her when something touched her head. She patted the top to find a small wet spot the size of a drop. She dashed to the right wall and looked up. Bingo. "Lafayette?" At the top of the wall was a box inlet. A mass was shifting. "Just leave me alone!" he droned with his nose stuffed. "I can't do that, Lafayette. Not with you crying, dear." "Why can't you people just leave me alone. I've already answered all your questions. I don't know how I know these things. I don't remember anything. And I don't want to. So just mosey on." "Just one more question... please?" "If it'll get you off my back." "Why?" "Why? Why what?!" "Why don't you want to remember?" Wiping his nose with his arm, he spun around and let his legs hang. "Why would I? They're all nightmares!"

"Some of them led you to me?" Lafayette slid down the pipe next to his hiding spot. On her level, he started up at her, and she looked down. "You're my aunt, you tell me, was there anything good about his life?" She moved a few steps away and offered him her hand. "Why don't we go for a walk and I can tell you all about your past?"

He started at the hand. His hand twitched at his side. "It isn't all bad. I promise." With those two words, something inside made his hand jump up.

Against the rules, she took him outside to walk in the sand and the sun casting long shadows of cacti. With a brilliantly blazed sunset behind them, she began telling Lafayette's story, starting when Artemis' sister gathered the family to tell them she was having a third child. She continued with second-hand stories from her sister and her tales of babysitting her niece and nephews. "I remember this one summer when you, Eclipse, and Lyra dug up that terminal line. I don't know if your father was madder that you guys accidentally lost four high-profile communiqués or you destroying the yard." "Clip was nearly in tears before mom put an end to it. That was summer before…-" his smile of reminiscences faded into the pain of history- "before she died." "Yeah, I know it hurts and I miss her, too, but I wouldn't trade that summer day for anything." "It's not that easy." "I know. I'm not trying to rush anything. I just want you to know when you remember you won't be any more or less Lafayette nor any more or less Cascade. You are you even if you don't remember your birthday." Lafayette pulled her tight. "When is it?" he squeaked. She was shocked at first: he hadn't done that since he was five. "9th in two months," she said, giving into old ways.


        WRATH OF EARTH

“RUN , RUN ,RUN , RUN OTHERWISE WE WILL BE IN DANGER”. Do not stress your mind by reading these lines because these lines are now familiar to our ears. We live in a world where nothing is normal . Now do not confuse your mind by thinking that we are aliens having superpowers . We are normal humans but not living in a normal World. We are living on a earth but not on a peaceful earth. It is an earth which you can not imagine in your wildest dreams. In our solar system earth was considered as the most appropriate planet for humans to live but now this is not the case . Now earth is considered as the most inappropriate planet to dwell on .We are the reason of this disaster. So let’s start the story that apprise you about the pathetic condition of earth.

           I am a nature lover so I decided to explore a nearby forest with my friends. We all saw beautiful flowers, inimitable birds and beauty of nature. We all were enjoying but suddenly we heard a roar of thunder and in a blink of an eye there was fire all around. By God’s grace we escaped safely from there and we thought that it was just a incident but that was the beginning. After that there was Chaos all over in the world. There was forest fires, climate changes, floods , melting of glaciers and many more things which you can not imagine. Now nothing is normal. Nothing is simple. Everyday we struggle for our lives.    Now we do not go to school. On regular basis we experience heavy rainfall like similar to flood and so government closed all the schools. Now we attend our classes online. I really miss my friends , my teachers and school environment. Educated citizens are the integral part in nation’s growth but now because these climate change is a hindrance in the growth of a nation. Food is such an integral part of us but now we don’t get farm’s fresh food like earlier. Extreme weather events and more frequent droughts affect crop production. Earlier we used to eat many vegetables and fruits but now we only get artificial food . Soil has become infertile and they are incapable of growing crops so our scientists now prepare food in laboratory. This food can fill your empty stomach but not your heart. These laboratory food are very costly so it is impossible for poor people to buy it. It is like a condition of rent. Tress give us oxygen but now they are being destroyed in forest fires and maximum of tress were already destroyed by people for their own selfish needs. People are displaced from their homes because of serve weather events and this results in social instability and conflict when these people move to new place.          Now global warming is at its high peak. And it is reducing the capacity of ocean to absorb oxygen. Geoscientists have found that anaerobic microbes would have thrived in these conditions and produced vast amount of hydrogen sulfide gas which is very toxic causing extinction of both plant and animal on land as well as in water. In news we see that one or other pandemic outbreak is going in the world . This is because of rising temperature gives a suitable condition for development of harmful viruses . Now economically poor people are dependent on meat based diet, which rises the risk of outbreak of diseases which can be very dangerous to humans. The combination of humidity and heat can impair the human body’s ability to cool itself, leading to hyperthermia, a potentially life threatening condition. In some or another part of the country glaciers are melting because of global warming. The harmful greenhouse gases have destroyed our ozone layer , which is leading to many incurable diseases . From all above activities happening in our world can give you a clear Idea that it is a climate apocalypse . Yes it is a climate apocalypse.               We daily experience earthquakes , condition of flood and drought. Now we cannot go to parks or sit under the trees to experience the idyllic happiness. We cannot go to forests ,zoo and to malls instead we can only see the dreadful condition of our earth from our homes in our television .

     People in past have destroyed our environment. They did deforestation for their needs without supporting afforestation. They used plastics and threw them away in Oceans . They used vehicles , industries which released harmful gases . They did everything for their pleasure without thinking about their next generation . It is truly said that your past deeds affect your future. In this condition we can do nothing but just kindle the light of hope in ourselves. Though everywhere there are clouds of darkness but I believe that Every cloud has a silver lining. It is not a piece of cake to survive in this era. This climate apocalypse involve the global collapse of human civilization and potential human extinction as either a direct or indirect result of anthropogenic climate change. Earth is now rendered uninhabitable as a result of extreme temperatures, severe weather events ,an inability to grow crops and an altered composition of the earth’s atmosphere.      Now it is impossible for us to live with this environment and we are just hoping for best. Our scientists also working very diligently day and night for some solution. They were finding solutions from many years . They were also going in space to find a solution and now finally they found a solution . They found a planet which is suitable for humans to live . After such travail they did it . It is truly said “ Obstacles are the cost of greatness”.

           Now today is the day when we are going on other planet to establish human civilization once again with peace. We are feeling sad but there is no other option. I hope for best. I hope that now people will take a lesson from this and from now onwards they will not take nature for granted .

   If you want to save yourself then save your environment.


I really met my person - the one I get to call home no matter where we actually end up. He really wasn’t perfect, we both had our faults, but we always worked on them together. the petals to my rose - this man was going to be my husband, I was going to make sure of it. Quiet, never too outstanding, nothing above average, no matter what it was we were doing, he never did anything too brilliant, not wanting to be seen by others. And yet he took my heart; I was the social butterfly out of the both of us, chit chatting away at parties, but always making sure my significant other was close by and never feeling left out. I made sure no matter where we were, I did the most to make sure others weren’t giving him a hard time, always making sure that he wasn’t too far away. My favorite memory was our last date right before I proposed, I mean I felt I had to, I knew he would never have the confidence to do it himself, he could think of it as a personal favor to be repaid some day in the future once we share anniversaries or kids’ birthdays. That special day will always be in my memories As my proudest moment in our relationship. It was like something out of the movies; blossoms were budding on trees left and right, the grass was unbelievably soft, like a rug for when you have children, and the air was just right, I made sure of it. I waited for the perfect time: 6:15 pm, exactly when the blues in the sky began to deepen: orange, reds, purple, now. As he looked at me to speak, I bent on both knees (Feeling it was most appropriate) and I spoke those magical words that changed life forever , “Will you marry me? I can’t wait any longer to start our family together.” I’m met with silence, one second became a minute, two became three; his eyes turned dark, this isn’t right, this didn’t happen what’s going on? His mouth widens, a loud shriek, next, I’m awake. A dark room at first, shifting left and then right, not a single peep on either side, and then a light pops on, revealing a strange looking doctor. Large as a man, arms lengthy and slender, but built and large, like a character customization gone wrong. He waltzes in, confident that he intimidates me with a stupid, smug look on his face, a slight sneer appearing, revealing his cracked lips that I can’t seem to turn away from, ” Worms like you disgust me, be gone from my sight or I will make sure you regret it. ” A relief I wouldn’t have to see him again, I wasn’t scared, but the smaller details on his face disgusted me, maybe considering I couldn’t move, I wouldn’t have made sure it was the last time he ever saw me. And with that, everything went black, like I was being transported into a room polar opposite from the other, no feeling, no sense of time, like I was unconscious but awake and aware at the same time. There were cool grey, stone walls in the other room, sort if catering more to a dungeon rather than an experimental testing room for a hospital; whereas mine has soft white walls, wide roman style windows lay on each, creating a warmer and serene atmosphere, I’d assume all patients get nervous and this helped, I just think this is a waste of money for us “tax payers”. A large board sat front to me: Name : Lanpur Wills, Room : #2017, Nurse : All who dare, Notes : In responsive conditions, although delirious, can and will respond to any and all questions asked. Big letters scrawled in fast, nurses loud whispering in the halls, “ No, you deal with her! You have more experience and I don’t think I can do this anymore, after this, I might just quit! ” Fear stricken faces on each as I turn my head to face them all, not a single muscle moved, my face sat blank, I know it, expressionless to make it all the worse. My favorite nurse, Lyne, she stood in middle of the full group, she was the smallest but the fiercest, sometimes we’d talk, she didn’t really care, it was her job to make it seem like she was listening, but I know she just wanted to spot things that were “wrong with me”. She had the most terrified expression out of all the nurses, I got out once, the restraints failed and I pulled free, she was stuck in the room with me, I did nothing, but she still screamed and shouted for help. Loud silence filling everywhere, everyone is terrified of me, I never thought I could be this proud - everything went well, I know it did. If memory serves me well, which is should, even after all the testing to see “what was wrong with me”, I told him he mustn’t make mistakes, and yet all he did was commit error after error. He thought he escaped, he thought his secrets were kept well, no matter how quiet, I knew of everything going on. I knew he would meet with that girl, how he was planning all his savings to make sure of two things: 1, he could change everything about himself, and 2, he could move somewhere with her, somewhere nobody would think to look. how stupid of him to think so low of me, knowing full well I’d search even the farthest planets to make sure he was always with me and only me. The girl wasn’t even half of what I was, she was barely average, especially in running, or hiding - on another thought, poor girl must have been terrible at hide and seek, I found her no matter where she went. I didn’t even have much of a fair game with her, she got what she deserved, and he did too, forever miles apart and never together because death did them part. He knew he was mine and only mine, belonging to nobody else but me, and these doctors know full well I will play along until I get my out, nothing will keep me separate from his body for too long, he’ll miss me for sure.


Sam worked at a small coffee shop, called Creek-land Brews. She loved getting to talk to people everyday and trying her best to put a smile on each person's face. Her favorite beverage they served was a red velvet iced coffee, with almond milk and whipped cream on top. Sam was your average twenty year old girl, appearing to everyone as the nice brunette girl with blue eyes and a soft voice. On the inside, Sam was dealing with anxiety, for a long time; she didn't realize what it was. Until one day when a girl, close to Sam's age, walked in. After a few minutes of talking, they were instant friends. They had so much in common, and their love and enthusiasm for coffee was the same. They had the same taste in books, movies, and they both even shared the same birthday month. Chrissy had blonde hair, that was in a bun most days and bright green eyes. She had a thing for splatter paint on jeans and preferred to wear her white sneakers over anything else. Chrissy came to the coffee shop every Tuesday and Thursday, sometimes Mondays, as often as she could from that day on.

Chrissy helped Sam in more ways than one. Sam was very thankful and appreciative for such a great friend. Many nights when Sam was having a rough time, Chrissy would always be there to comfort her and just be a shoulder to cry on for her. One Tuesday morning, the wind was blowing so violently that limbs began to fall, and leaves blew past in a gust. Chrissy walked in, her messy bun disheveled even more than usual. "Sam, you will never believe what happened." Chrissy exclaimed; utter happiness was written all over her face. " Spit it out Chrissy, you know I don't like suspense" she pleaded, knowing her friend liked to tease her any chance she got. " You know that cactus I bought last week, and the video I made about it." Chrissy asked, breathing heavily from rushing from her apartment to the coffee shop. "Yes, what about it ?" Sam giggled, Chrissy's energy and spirit always had a positive and great impact on her. "It went viral, and the other videos I have posted after it are doing great too! She exclaimed, taking a few breaths. "I can't believe a small cactus could do that much." Chrissy said in disbelief. Sam quickly grabbed her phone, looking at Chrissy's account and the views that continued to climb.

"That is incredible Chrissy! Finally they are seeing your talents like I have come to know and love" Sam smiled. Days passed and Chrissy worked hard to come up with great content to post, new things her and Sam came up with, as well as more content about the cactus that got so many peoples attention. It was two weeks after the good news that Sam visited Chrissy for dinner and a movie at Chrissy' apartment. "Have you come up with a name for the little guy." Sam asked, They had come up with so many it was hard to keep it straight and laugh at the ridiculous ones. "I'm letting the viewers decide" Chrissy said, chuckling at the thought of our brainstorming spell earlier. "Maybe they will do a better job than us" They both laughed at that. "My goodness at the sticky notes " Sam commented, looking up at the handwritten notes of ideas on her wall. "I've been working really hard on more ideas, skits and just funny topics. I love that so many people have a new reason for some laughs." Sam opened up her laptop and the picture of her aunt popped up. She couldn't bring herself to change the desktop background; it was the picture she took of her aunt Lisa on their fall trip a few years ago. Her aunt Lisa had passed away from breast cancer, along with having pneumonia and liver failure. A single tear glided down Sam's cheek. Before the tear could hit her pillow; that she had placed next to her, Chrissy had wiped it away with her thumb. "It's okay Sam, she is with you always and would love that you make so many people smile everyday just by being you." Chrissy smiled, she knew these last few months after Sam had lost her aunt, had been tough for her and her entire family. "Here, let's watch my last video" Chrissy suggested, sliding the laptop over to her and pulling up the video. " I know it will make you feel better. If not we will watch another and another" Chrissy joked, bringing out a small smile on Sam's face. That night Sam watched videos that Chrissy worked hard to make and edit, and they even filmed a few together themselves to post later. It was definitely what Sam needed, her aunt had been such a big part of her life. Cancer doesn't care who you are, where you come from; your age, or even the challenges you may have already had to face. If Sam could ever save up enough money to go to college, she would help others with cancer. Help them fight and kick cancers butt. Working at the coffee shop was great, but Sam was meant for more.

The next day it was pouring down rain when Sam stepped on to her front porch. Pulling out her umbrella, she hurried to the car and got in as quickly as she could. "Hope I make it to work in one piece this morning, my goodness" Sam mutters to herself. Ten minutes into her drive to work, Sam's phone rings. She grabs it and puts it on speaker phone, "Hello?" Sam says. She turns on her signal and turns right down Johnson Street, the thunderstorm getting worse the closer she gets to the coffee shop. "Hi Sam, it's Grayson. This storm I'd get out of control. I think it's best to just not open today" relieved, Sam pulls over into a parking lot. "You may be already on your way , but I just wanted to call and let you know. " Grayson continues. "Okay, no problem. Turning around and heading back home now. This storm is nuts" Sam shakes her head, this day was starting off in an insane way. "Be safe" Grayson adds before he hangs up. Sam turns around and starts to drive back home. Limbs are falling, some already on the roads causing traffic to back up .The wind blowing hard, pushing against her car. The rain begins to fall harder and harder, making it more and more difficult for Same to see. Her windshield pipers on high, drastically going back and forth at full speed to combat the increasingly larger raindrops. Same takes a deep breath, mutters to herself "I just want to get home" , she repeats the words over and over again. After making the next turn left, onto Haven Street, she hears the roar and crackling of thunder and lightning. Right in front of her a bolt of lightning strikes the old tree in front of her and it begins to fall. Already going fifty miles an hour, rain pouring down, soaking the roads and puddling up in the ditches. Sam's vehicle struggles to slow down.

Sam's yellow Jeep crashes hard into the giant old oak tree that slams into the road after the lightning strikes. Her airbags deploy, and it jolts her forward. Everything turns black, Sam passes out upon impact. She doesn't recall the ambulance arriving, removing her from her vehicle and placing her on the stretcher. She doesn't remember the ride to the hospital, her parents being notified or being admitted to New Haven Hospital. Her parents immediately call Chrissy and tell her what they know. All of them headed to the hospital, holding on to the hope that Sam would be okay. Once the doctors and nurses assessed the injuries on Sam, they determined she had a broken arm and her left ankle was also broken. The crash caused a lot of bruising on her body, burns on her arms and legs, and she also had a concussion. It wasn't long before the wheeled her into surgery. Her family arrived minutes later, waiting anxiously in the waiting room for any word on their daughter. Chrissy arrived not long after Sam's parents. Chrissy brings them coffee from the cafeteria. Hours passed, everyone taking turns glancing at the clock on the wall. After waiting, for what seemed like forever; the doctor approached the family and Chrissy with news of Sam's surgery. He cleared his throat and gave them a reassuring smile, "Sam is doing wonderfully, surgery went well. She is resting now." Everyone let out a big sigh of relief. They felt like they had finally released a breath that they had all been holding in since they'd arrived.

"Sam will need at least a month of physical therapy, maybe more but we will see. She will also get some medication for the pain. And we suggest for her to take it easy once she is released. Effects of the concussion can last up to ten days." The doctor continued, making sure they understood everything and knew what the next steps were. "Her recovery will be tough, but we will print out everything you need to know, along with recommendations and get you all the necessary paperwork shortly." The doctor shook Anna and Kevin's hands, Sam's Parents, and walked away to see another patient . Chrissy and Sam's parents walked into her hospital room; they immediately saw how beat up Sam's face was; her arm in a cast and a sling.

Sam slept for another hour after surgery before opening her eyes and scanning the room. "Mom? Dad? What happened?" Sam asked, her voice raspy and rough. "You were in a car accident sweetie. Broken arm and wrist, concussion, bruising. You're pretty beat up but we are glad you're okay." Her mom spoke softly, brushed Sam's bangs from her face. "We were so worried, so glad your okay kiddo" Same turned to her dad when he spoke. He got up from his chair and hugged her, being careful not to hurt her. She looked so fragile; the accident really had done a number on her. Sam scanned the room, she was meant to see Chrissy after work, after work got canceled she was going to call her., but then the accident happened. "Where is Chrissy?" Her mom smiled, "She went to get you something. She said it brought her joy and that's what you needed." Sam closed her eyes, dozing off for a little while before waking up to the sound of the door opening and closing. Chrissy had returned, with a cactus in her hands; similar to the one she had made her videos about recently. "Hi Sam, I brought you this little guy." She walked over to Sam's bed, letting her see it up close. "I'm glad your okay, we were all so worried about you " Chrissy said, her voice shaky. "Thank you Chrissy" Sam said, her eyes going from the cactus. She admired the hand-painted pot, it's pretty pink color and the orange polka dots all over it. Then Sam noticed the note attached to it. "Is that a note? Can you read it to me?" Asked Sam, pulling her blankets on her down to get more comfortable. " It says , For Sam. I hope this little cactus helps you in all the ways it has helped me. Plants have the power to heal and make us smile. Here is one of your very own. Thanks for being my friend, Love Chrissy."

- - - - - Sam continued to take care of the cactus her friend had given her weeks ago; it truly helped her during her recovery. It's amazing what a simple house plant, a simple cactus, can do.


He had finally managed to capture her. He slumped against the stony wall in this forgotten cave catching his breath as her voice carried with the echo. A small wooden ship sinks about a hundred meters from the shore. Half of it is on fire. The sun sets in gold in front of them. When the ball of light hits the horizon, it spreads like oil in water. Below, the depleted men clad in armor slowly start to creep onto the shore. Their steel boots sinking into the wet sand like anchors. “Quiet, Luna…” he whispered. “They’ll hear you.” “That’s the point,” she said through gritted teeth. When she opened her mouth to speak again, he hushed her quickly with his palm. She squirmed beneath him but he could not risk being seen now. It was a matter of life and death.

Well, to put it frankly, it was a matter of her life and his death. "I don't get you," she accused. "Didn't you leave on your own terms? Why return now? For what purpose?" Harsh green eyes turned jade beside the setting sun. He retracted his hand from her mouth.

"Listen, I came to warn you-- " Warn me? " She repeated incredulously. "They're coming for you. The Reapers. Those men down there are not your noblemen. They are not from your kingdom. I did what I had to do to pull you to safety!" The princess's eyebrows knitted in confusion. Though she was calmer, she could still feel the remnants of anger creeping at the back of her neck. She strained to control her composure. She remembered him taking her hostage as the sea rocked them back and forth. He had hijacked her ship and sent the two of them overboard. His eyes softened suddenly.

"How can I trust you?" She whispered, "You left me alone so many years ago. Your quest for power swallowed you whole. You were unrecognizable; a different man than the one I…” "The one you what, Luna?" "... Remembered." She peered up at him inquisitively. And just when she thought the embers in her heart were fully extinguished, a gentle wind suddenly gave life to a new flame. He was indeed the man in the flesh; and also the man in so many of her dreams. The sights and sounds of him caused her to revisit her deepest memories. A familiar chagrin. But in many ways, the years have turned him, or so it seemed. She couldn't help wondering if he'd manage to reach his pinnacle. His reason for leaving never stood clear to her but perhaps, now it would. When Prince Adonis was eleven years old, he had lost his father to an unknown force. His mother died shortly after which meant that the King's brother, a kind man, would hold the throne until Adonis was old enough to take it. But something happened. A grey cloud began to storm him, though, it had been all in his head. He knew he would never truly rest another night until he was able to kill the thing that killed his father. And so he sought power. He fought, he ran, he drew his sword, just for the opportunity to face them. The Reapers. So when the opportunity arose in the dead of night, he took it. A powerful Magician lead him and he followed without being under a spell. It was his own decision. He never said good bye. When Luna awoke that morning after and learned the Prince had left, she felt as if she died that day. The rest of her existence waned and waxed like the moon she was named after. But she'd never know the heartache he'd felt for her. Under starry nights, cold mornings, and lonely battles, he would recall her and all his strength would come back. “How did you know the Reapers would return? From what I’ve heard, they were last seen at the Eastern Port at Marigold three years ago... But... that must mean…” He nodded solemnly, “I had to.” “How could you have done something so stupid?! ” Luna cried, “You shouldn’t have marked yourself. Now they’ll never stop coming for you!” “My princess-- “Don’t!” He grabbed a knife from his belt and made quick work to cut the rope he had just used to bind her. He took her arm and pulled back her kimono sleeve. On the white of her wrist, a blue bruise was present. It was the same colour of her veins; the same shape of the sacred lotus flower that was also engraved on her kingdom's coat of arms. He showed her his.

Surprised shook her from the inside out. A death sentence was what it was. She gingerly ran the pads of her fingers over his wrist to feel it. It slightly glowed. His radial pulse bounced against her fingers as she pressed down.

“When did you…?” “I only have one seal. It was a gift from the Magician at his death. It will cover yours, erasing your existence from their radar. And that means they’ll chase me instead.” “I was ready to die, Adonis. I knew what was coming.  Do not take this from me! What about your goal for power? What about avenging your father and taking back your kingdom? What about-- He closed the gap between his lips and hers. It was nothing like she’d imagined. Salty, bitter, and sweet. The taste of her danced on his tongue.

He had seemed to forget the mission at hand: Get her to safety and take her place when the Reapers came to collect. All too much, all too soon he felt her take over him like nothing he'd ever felt before. From this experience alone he decided he had already fully lived. His life did flash before him. His life through Luna. When she opened her eyes, his stormy gaze told her everything. “Luna, I realized...” Grey eyes darted over to each feature of her face, drinking her in as if he’d die of thirst, “...you were the only goal that ever really truly mattered.”


Liam checked his watch for what must have been the fifteenth time in the past five minutes. He was astounded to see the second hand still ticking along, reliably as ever. Had it still only been another minute? It felt like he was stuck in time; the waiting was interminable. Liam sighed and drummed his fingers on the table. If he wasn’t here in another five minutes, Liam was going to leave. He’d had enough of waiting, and he was wishing he just hadn’t come at all. Liam looked around the café in an attempt to distract himself. The door had just opened and a tall, thin man in a neat suit walked in. “Larry!” the barista called, her face cracking into a smile. “The usual?” Liam watched Larry head to the counter and pass over his credit card. What would it be like, to have such stability in your life that the barista recognizes you and remembers your order every time? He’d always been jealous of that type of person, who could stay put and stick to a schedule. Build a routine. He was always on the move and changing plans last second. Liam couldn’t even remember the last time he had lived in the same place longer than six months. He was adventurous, was what people always said. Or maybe he was just unsettled. Dissatisfied with the many lives he had attempted to live. Liam glanced at his watch again. It hadn’t even been a full minute, this time. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to reread the last text. “9 o’clock at Ground Beans good for you?” It was 9:05 now, though. Liam didn’t know what he had expected. To trust that someone so chronically unreliable, so perpetually not there, would show up on time, at the right place…it had been childish, to think this might work. He might as well just leave now and spare the inevitable pain of this meeting. It was infuriating that he had ever even agreed to put himself through this whole ordeal. By now if he actually did show up, which Liam was very much starting to doubt, Liam would have plenty to say. He had years of pent-up anger ready to boil over, and the wait was not helping. Liam peered out the window through the driving rain, trying to discern the faces of the pedestrians hurrying by. He could be any of them, really. Liam doubted he would recognize him. A barking laugh to his left jerked Liam’s attention from the street. A woman in spandex and a shirt so tight it left little to the imagination was laughing uproariously at something her similarly-dressed friend had said. Liam wondered if they had actually exercised before coming, or if they just dressed like they were about to in a way of justifying the calories of their sugary drinks. Their hair looked too pristine, their makeup too immaculate for them to actually be planning to get in a jog this morning. Maybe they were power walkers. “And then, he told me that his mom would be over any minute, so I might as well stay and meet her! So I was running around trying to find my clothes, get dressed and out of there as quickly as I could-” “You know that was a line, right? I bet that’s how he gets rid of girls every morning!” the second woman said with an almost indecent giggle. “Well, it worked!” The two women subsided into snorts of laughter, and Liam reluctantly felt the corners of his mouth twitch up. He picked up his phone out of habit so he didn’t look like he was eaves dropping, and his heart leapt into his throat when he saw a new text on the screen. “Running late, be there soon” , it read. So he hadn’t flaked, after all. Liam tried to keep his nerves in check. This was what he had wanted, right? At least he wasn’t going to get stood up. Probably not, anyway. But maybe the “sorry I’m late” ruse was just drawing out the inevitable. Why should Liam believe he would come today, after he had been absent for the past twenty-five years? The two women had quieted down now, and Liam scanned the coffee shop for another distraction to pass the time. His focus caught on a man and woman who were probably in their early forties. Husband and wife, maybe? Liam didn’t think so, somehow. The way the man’s pupils dilated when he looked at her, the way his eyes kept flicking down to her chest when she talked, made him think they hadn’t known each other long. While the woman swirled her coffee in its cup, the man picked up his phone and dialed a number. He stretched back in his chair, looking at ease and in complete contrast to Liam, whose muscles were tense, as though ready to spring into action at any moment. Liam’s fingers were drumming his leg incessantly as he peered down the sidewalk in both directions again. But he’d already said he was running late. He wouldn’t be here yet. “Hey, Jude, this is Charles,” the man’s voice boomed. “Yeah, I’m going to need to push our meeting back, if you’ve got some flexibility in your schedule today.” He paused, listening to the response on the other end of the line, and the woman took a large gulp of her iced latte. “Don’t I know it,” he said. “I’ve just been so swamped at the office this morning.” In spite of his worry, Liam couldn’t help but smile at the brazen lie. “I’ve been stuck in a meeting for a couple hours now, and I don’t think I’ll make it to your office by eleven. Can we push back to noon? Maybe even one, if you can?” The man gave the woman a grin and reached across the table to run his fingers up her arm to her shoulder. “I’m trying to rush the meeting and get out as quickly as I can. Sorry ‘bout this, Jude.” Liam noticed that he was playing footsie with the woman under the table now, too. “Ohp, they’re calling me back in. Just need to finalize this deal, and I’ll let try to get over to your office by one o’clock, maybe one thirty…Yup, alright…see you then. Cheers.” He ended the call and set the phone down on the table. “Agh, I just can’t arse myself to work today. Wanna go back to my place? Charlene will be at work by now, so we can have a bit more time together.” The woman shot him a cloying smile and nodded and Liam watched them walk out, hand in hand. Sure, his morals might be a bit askew for Liam’s taste, but what wouldn’t he give for just a bit of the man’s confidence. Liam glanced at his watch again. He was only eight minutes late. That wasn’t so bad on the face of it, but in reality, the wait had been not just the past eight minutes, but the past twenty-five years. Liam’s temper was still simmering just under the surface. Maybe if he couldn’t bring himself to arrive on time, he didn’t deserve another chance. No one could argue that he didn’t deserve a chance anyway, even if he had arrived on time. Why had he even reached out to meet now, after all this time? Liam considered getting up and walking out. What would he really lose if he left now? He would probably only say things he would regret later. They would all be true, of course, but maybe things would be better left unsaid. He could get up now and go back to his normal life. His hectic, unsettled, life. He had been fine enough before he agreed to this meeting, and he would be fine enough after. It didn’t matter much, how it went. But even as he stood and pulled his wet raincoat over his t-shirt, Liam knew he didn’t believe that. He had been dreaming of this day far too long to believe that he would be fine after, and yet he was still trembling, whether with anger or nerves, he couldn’t tell anymore. He’d had enough of this. Liam slipped his phone into his jeans pocket and was pushing his chair in when the door chimed and a man with a young boy in a dirty rugby kit walked in. “Don’t tell your mum I let you skip school today, right?” The boy giggled and nodded. “What do you want? A scroll? Juice?” Liam couldn’t tear his eyes away as they walked up to the counter, the young boy’s hand inside his dad’s. Liam could see the adoration, the excitement in the boy’s eyes as he looked up at his father. He wondered if his life would be different if he’d gotten days like this with his own father. Just the two of them hanging out, keeping secrets from his mum and having adventures together. Liam was standing in the middle of the café now, halfway between his abandoned seat and the door. He wanted to leave. He had decided to go. And yet something kept him rooted to the spot. He looked up at the boy again, whose face was now covered in powdered sugar, but not enough sugar to hide his ear-to-ear grin. Liam wondered if the boy and his father would still be close when he grew up. What would their relationship look like when the boy was Liam’s age? The dad looked down at his son, and even through his stern reprimand for the trail of sugar down his son’s shirt, Liam could see the father’s care. How different would Liam’s life have been, if his father had ever cared enough to look at him like that father did his son? How different would it be if his father looked at him like that, now? It didn’t have to be too late, did it? Almost without realizing what he was doing, Liam walked back to the table and slid into his chair once more, eyes still fixed on the father and son who were now chatting animatedly about rugby. When he couldn’t bear to watch them anymore, Liam found a teenage girl a few tables away to focus on instead. She looked nearly as on edge as he felt. She was twirling a lock of hair around her fingers, biting her lower lip, and fiddling with a paper in the other hand. As she fluttered the paper back and forth, he caught a glimpse- it was a resume. Looked like she was waiting for a job interview. Liam knew the feeling well. He had jumped from one job to the next ever since his first job at age fifteen. He had probably sat through more interviews already in the intervening fifteen years than this girl ever would. Her lips were moving soundlessly, like she was rehearsing answers for practice interview questions she had found online. He wondered if she would get the job. Wondered if she was even qualified for it. With how nervous she looked, how much she apparently cared, he hoped she got it. He wanted to walk over and tell her to take a deep breath, relax, not get herself too worked up. And then he considered that he could take his own advice. Liam had checked his watch this time without realizing it. He was closing in on ten minutes late, now. There was an elderly couple sitting one table over from the nervous teen. He looked at them, admiring the patience with which the man spoke to his wife, who appeared to be deaf, or very nearly so. They were four tables away from him, and yet their conversation was loud enough to cover the anxious patter of his own tapping foot. “I said, how’s your coffee?” The woman’s head bobbed in a perpetual nod, in that way of old people who spent most of their days sitting. “Good. It’s hot. Better than yesterday’s.” “I told you to send it back, if you thought it was bad.” “Send it back?” the wife shouted. “I said it’s good. Very fresh.” “No,” the husband shouted back, “You should have sent the coffee back yesterday , if it was cold.” “But it’s not cold! It’s hot! Don’t you ever listen, Howard?” The wife took another sip of coffee through pursed lips, probably because it’s so hot, Liam thought, and their bickering subsided. Liam wondered how much his father would have changed, as he aged. Surely not as much as this elderly couple had- his parents had had him young, and Liam knew his father was only in his early fifties. But time must have changed him. People don’t just stay the same, in twenty-five years of not knowing them. Liam himself wasn’t a child anymore, just on the threshold of kindergarten. And likewise, his father must have changed in unimaginable ways. Had he found someone with whom to grow old? Someone to bicker about coffee with? The couple had given up on talking now, but the husband reached over the table to grasp his wife’s hand in his. They just sat, gazing into each other’s eyes like they had nowhere else in the world they would rather be. How long had it taken for them to reach that point in their relationship? Maybe there was still time left, enough to salvage the lost time and recover from the years of hurt. He was eleven minutes late, now. How long before he gave up and left? How much would Liam really be missing, if he left before he showed up? But Liam knew he couldn’t leave. He would wait as long as it took. The husband stood up, put his coat on, and shuffled around the table to help his wife up. He helped her shrug a raincoat on and sling her purse over her shoulder, then held her hand tightly as they walked toward the exit. A man entering from the street took a step back out into the rain to hold the door wide for them. Twelve minutes late, now. The couple disappeared into a sheet of rain and the man stepped through the doorway, shaking water out of a sopping hat. He stood by the door for a long moment, eyes scanning the room, looking for something. Or maybe someone. His gaze caught on Liam and he paused, eyes searching his face. Liam saw that the man had the same heavy brows that he himself had. His chin was pointed, high cheekbones, they even had a similar build- tall, thin but muscular, broad shoulders- Before he had thought about it, without making a conscious decision to do so, Liam was on his feet. Heart in his throat, he walked out from behind the table and had crossed the café in six steps. The man was waiting, now with a nervous, hesitant smile on his face. “Liam?” Liam held his hand out and, for the first time in twenty-five years, his father took his hand.


21/05/087 Dear Diary It’s finally happened. My own personal Fate has graced me with her presence. She’s currently 5 metres away, looking like that classic humanoid haze everyone describes. I can’t actually tell if she’s a woman or not, I suppose fate doesn’t really have a gender, but I figure it makes the whole thing a little less terrifying if I can just pretend she’s one of the girls.

Maybe I’ll name her, something non-threatening like Alice or Lilly. I’ll have to think about it. Obviously, the first thing I did when she appeared was call Sarah and being the one person in this world who truly knows me, the first words out of her mouth were, “You can’t dress it up.” Which of course I knew. I had already flung many hats at the hazy part I assumed was the head a good number of times, before realising they were just floating through her. Sarah had been touched by her own fate 6 months ago, during a one night stand with some random guy she met after a night out. Right as the man found his release. She said it was the worst end to sex she had ever had in her life. It was clear what that touch meant and now six months later she’s waddling about with her swollen belly, making me wait on her hand and foot. I was surprised she kept it, having always insisted she wasn’t going to have a baby for at least another ten years, but after some (probably too intrusive) probing, she revealed that when her Fate touched her, it turned into what she could tell was her future child. She couldn’t terminate after that. I suppose that’s the thing about Fate. Everyone's is different. Sometimes they’re with the person for only a week. Sometimes it can be a year. But the outcome is always the same. Fate starts a good distance away and as you get closer to the event that will change your life, Fate gets closer too. And finally when the event happens, Fate touches you on the shoulder and the hazy figure turns into someone relevant to the event. The event itself can be anything. Good, bad, pregnancy, death, a particularly embarrassing case of diarrhoea. Anything that will forever change your life. In most cases Fate only comes once, but for some people they can come multiple times. I suppose it depends on how exciting of life you lead. God I hope I have an incredibly dull life. Anyway, time to sleep. If I even can with the annoying haze in the corner. I wonder if she’ll be closer in the morning… 22/05/087 Dear Diary, She’s not any closer. Looks like I’m in this for the long hull. Today Sarah forced me to the doctor’s. I didn’t want to, but she went on a whole passionate speech about how I’m her best friend with my best interests at heart and that we should check if the Fate is anything that can be helped. Honestly I said yes just to get her to stop talking. The doctors checked everything. If I’m pregnant, if I’m dying, anything that might indicate what my Fate could be. I suppose it could be useful to know if your unfortunate Fate is dying early. Fortunately, I am in perfect health and I have no spawn growing inside of me, which is an immense relief. I am more than happy to just be the fun aunt of Sarah’s kid for the near future. Like most Saturdays we spent the day together, which consisted of me making fun of her waddling and her using such creative language to fight back, I was half tempted to somehow cover her stomach so the growing baby couldn’t hear its mother’s colourful language. Sarah says I’m the most obvious Fate carrier there ever was. Even as we talked I’m apparently just staring at it. At one point to amuse myself I even asked it what type of coffee it wanted. I would have carried on if Sarah hadn’t stopped me, saying I look insane. Which is probably true considering I'm the only one who can see my hazy, distant friend. It also didn’t help when I told Sarah I decided I’m naming her Hazel, because of the haziness. She proceeded to remind me that I am the dumbest person she knows which I, in turn, reminded her that she is the most suck up person I know. Honestly I love her so much. 22/07/087 Dear Diary, Two months. Officially two months of freaking Hazel and her freaking hazy nothingness following me around everywhere. She’s about 2 metres away now and I actually cannot stand this. How. How on earth do others do this?! The fact I have no indication as to what the hell it might be is driving me insane. How did Sarah do this?… Sarah. I’m starting to worry it might be something to do with the baby. It’s the only obvious event that’s going on in my life. If it is, maybe I’ll just love the baby so much that will be the event. Maybe. Because god knows what I would do if anything happened to her or the baby. I don’t know. I don’t know what I would do. 29/07/087 They signed me off work today. I’m not sure what happened, but one moment I was at my desk and the next I was hurling a stapler at Hazel. I thought she was smirking at me. She doesn't have a face but I’m sure she was. Still is. Because she knows. She FUCKING KNOWS what my Fate is and she’s a smug son of a bitch about it. Sarah forced me to see her therapist. I would have said no but it’s pretty impossible to do that to your heavily pregnant best friend. It didn’t help. The therapist was nice enough I suppose, but telling me that Fate related panic is normal has not stopped my Fate related panic. I couldn’t tell her about my fears for Sarah and the baby, I wouldn’t even tell her how close Hazel is. Because what if saying those things out loud gives Hazel ideas? What if she’s planning horrific things right now. I know that if I tell anyone that they’ll call me crazy. That the Fate is more of a messenger than a catalyst, but what if they’re wrong?! What if she’s reading this diary right now… getting ideas. Maybe I shouldn’t be writing in this. 04/08/087 Dear Diary, Sarah gave birth today. She gave birth to the most beautiful baby girl I have ever seen. Both of them are healthy and doing well and I can’t believe I’m an aunt. Sarah named her Amelia Emily Mason, the Emily part obviously after me. Although I am so happy for them, I do feel like a complete fool. During the whole birth I couldn’t stop looking at Hazel, terrified of her lifting her arm to touch me. But she never did. She’s still a metre away anyway. Because it was a no complications birth Sarah was discharged that evening and I drove her home. I’m staying with her for a bit whilst she finds her feet, because even though she’s a single mum, I’m determined she will never be alone. Anyway, I’ve got to go and hide. By the sound of Sarah’s moaning in the other room, Amelia’s done a particularly stinky one and I am definitely not equipped to deal with that. God I love being the aunt. 01/09/087 Dear Diary, It’s any day now. Hazel is right by my side just being her usual ominous self. However the closeness does mean I can pretend to chop off her head whenever I feel like it (apart from at work, best not to get signed off again). It is pretty fun watching my hand glide through her hazy neck. Despite how close she is, I’m finding it easier to cope now I know Fate has nothing to do with the birth and (even though I will never admit it to her face) Sarah was right about the therapy. I finally opened up about everything, all my fears relating to Hazel, the horror of what my Fate could be and she had me realising that there is no reason my Fate has to be a bad one. It could be good or equally, something in between. Not all change has to be good or bad. Sometimes it is just different. Or… Maybe a modelling agent will see me walking down the street and make me into a superstar. Either way I wish the bitch would hurry up and touch my shoulder because the waiting is actually getting ridiculous now. 03/09/087 I don’t understand. Why didn’t she touch me? Why is she still here? Was this not life changing enough? Was this NOT ENOUGH? WHY IS SHE STILL HERE WHEN MY BEST FRIEND IS DEAD?! why why I don’t understand It was just a walk. We’ve walked that road a million times. We’ve crossed that road a million times. The light said we could go, we did nothing wrong, she did nothing wrong. She pushed the pram away right before the car broke my best friend. There was so much blood. I don’t even know where she was bleeding from. Her face. Her face. She had no face left. Sarah’s face was gone and Fate still didn’t deem that life changing enough to touch me. WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT HAZEL?! HOW MUCH MORE CAN MY LIFE BE RUINED BEFORE YOU DEEM IT LIFE CHANGING ENOUGH?!” I HATE YOU! WHY CAN’T YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?!

IHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATYOU 05/08/087 Dear Diary, I had a visitor today. I was already holding Amelia when I opened the door. I think I’m scared to put her down. It was the executor of Sarah’s will. Her very, very, simple will. Everything is to go to me, except for a portion of savings which will go to Amelia when she turns eighteen. And Amelia… If I want to.. If I feel ready to… Sarah has named me her legal guardian. And that was when I felt a familiar, comforting hand on my shoulder. There was Sarah, smiling at me, trusting me to do the right thing. I could never say no to her.


Stormy Day It was a beautiful day. The big fluffy clouds looked like cotton candy ready to be picked. There were towering cumulus clouds that could be an indication of rain to come. If you gazed long enough at them and had a vivid imagination you could see faces, animals and all sorts of things in the clouds. The blue hue of the sky looked like the Caribbean Sea with its clear vivid colors. There was a calmness in the air and a gentle breeze blowing from the west. The weatherman was calling for storms in the afternoon, however looking at the sky you wouldn’t think it was possible. The tree leaves were wearing their autumn shades of orange, red, gold, and green as they danced and swirled to the ground with the breeze. It was a perfect Autumn day to take a walk through the forest. Once in the forest there was a stark difference in the temperature. It was 10 degrees cooler under the canopy of trees. Little animals could be seen darting about the forest floor gathering nuts and other items to get them ready for the upcoming winter. Birds could be heard flitting in the tree tops and calling out to other birds. It shattered the quiet of the forest. Walking on the carpet of fallen leaves, the crunching noise reverberated though the forest scaring the birds who took flight above. The forest was quiet again. Wandering through the forest brought up memories of long-ago days as a child running through the cool forest and gathering the colored leaves to take home and put them in a scrapbook. There were tons of acorns and pine cones on the ground. More treasures to take back home and make something crafty. A loud rumble could be heard in the distance and the forest quickly turned dark with the approaching storm. It was a little spooky in the forest with the fast approaching storm turning it pitch black. Looking around at the nearby surroundings it appeared I had wandered farther into the forest than was originally planned. A sense of dread came over me as I knew that the little creek would flood and leave me stranded in the middle of the woods. With my heart beating faster I picked up my pace to try and get back to the creek crossing before it was too late. A loud clap of thunder was heard overhead and the sky lit up like the Fourth of July. The sky opened up and the torrential rain came down like someone had opened a dam and the water came spilling out. Panicked I picked up the pace and half power walked and half ran to beat the rain that would fill up the creek. It was the only thing between me and civilization. A sense of dismay came over me as I knew I wouldn’t get to the creek in time before the rain caused it spill over its banks. I had to come up with a plan fast or I would be trapped. There was nowhere to go to keep from getting drenched. I started to run and at the time it seemed like a good idea. I didn’t take into consideration the that the leaves would be slippery under my feet. Running like my life depended on it I sped up the pace and as luck would have it I tripped over a small limb and crashed to the ground. It happened so fast I didn’t have time to catch myself. I hit my head so hard I saw stars and blackness. Laying there for a minute to catch my breath and shake the fuzziness out of my head before I got up. It was a bad idea and the pain shot through my whole body and left me dazed and confused. Great, this was no time to be clumsy. I tried to get back up on my feet and as I did a sharp burning pain shot right through me. It appeared I had broken my ankle when I fell. The thought of spending the night in the forest didn’t thrill me. I had to come up with a plan and I had no idea what I was going to do. I started to have a panic attack and all that did was add to the horrendous situation I was in.  I had made it to the creek and its banks were flooded with the rain and started filling up the surrounding ground. I felt like I was going to die if I didn’t get out of the forest soon. Getting a grip on myself I started to take deep breaths to try and calm my thoughts before I went into a full-blown panic attack, which would add injury to insult to my current situation. I started to crawl towards the creek on my hands and knees. Every little movement caused my injury to send sharp shooting pain through my whole body. It almost caused me to pass out with every jarring pain upon movement. I am strong woman and I had been in other situations worse than my current one. Drowning wasn’t an option so I crawled inch by inch towards the flooding creek. The ground had tons of rocks and broken branches caused my hands and knees to bleed. However, I ignored the pain and kept going towards the creek. Once I got there the water was freezing cold, causing me to shiver uncontrollably. I almost wanted to give up as my situation only got worse. Once at the creek the water around it was about 4 inches deep and at this point I was going to have to swim to get to the other side. My only saving grace was the creek didn’t have a fast current. The storm overhead proceeded to get stronger. Jagged lightening kept hitting the forest ground. My current thought was I was going to be the next target and get electrocuted. That was not a happy thought and made me even more determined to get the other side of the creek. Once over to the other side I wasn’t sure I would be able to get to the house. The land was nothing but wide-open field and I would have no protection from the raging storm overhead. I guess I should have taken heed to the weatherman and stayed home. However, at this point that thought was moot. More determined than ever, I kept crawling on the soggy rain flooded ground. Not sure how I was going to get across the creek I kept going. The creek was about 18 inches wide with a mild current. The overflowing banks kept bringing more water into the forest making my situation even worse. I was at the bank and I did the only thing I could. I plunged into the water praying I would make it to the other side before I drowned or got struck by lightning. A loud clap of thunder was heard overhead and the lightening soon followed. The strikes were getting closer to me and it turned my body into one big goose bump. I was freezing cold because of the water and the drop-in temperature. What a messy predicament I found myself in. The water was freezing cold and it sent a jolt through my body. My ankle was adding to the situation. Freezing, in pain, and scared to death I kept on crawling forward. The water helped to keep my foot afloat giving me the motivation to keep going. Inch by inch I tried to swim across the creek. Thank God it wasn’t very deep and I could stand up on one leg if I needed to. The storm raved on and little rivulets of rain streamed down my face. The torrential rain kept coming with no sign of letting up. Cautiously I swam across the creek and eventually after what seemed like hours I made it to the other side. The ground was flooded, but I kept crawling until I made it to the edge of the forest trying to come up with a plan on how I was going to make it across the field to the house.  I could see the house from my position, but I could also see the dark and ominous storm on the horizon. The sight sent a shiver down my spine as I started to crawl towards home. My hands and knees were bleeding profusely at this point from all the debris on the ground. I started my long, slow trek across the field. The lightening was hitting the ground all around me and loud claps of thunder continued on. I kept praying that I wouldn’t get struck by the jagged lightening as it hit the ground. Finally, I was about five feet from the house. The pain and the situation I was in made me want to cry, however I refused. I finally made it to the doorstep of the house and collapsed from the pain and exhaustion. The storm seemed to be getting stronger and the clouds were swirling overhead. Great a tornado was just what I needed. I managed to get the door open and get inside. I tried to stand up so I could turn the heat up to warm myself. The movement made me collapse again as the pain from my ankle shot up my leg and throughout my body. I took some deep breaths to try and calm down. I had managed to turn the heat up to 85 degrees and the warmth sent a sense of wellbeing throughout my body. I was in the house, out of the rain, and relatively safe from the raging storm outside. I crawled to the window to watch the storms and swirling clouds. Minutes passed as I held my breath and watched the cloud slowly creep to the ground in a funnel formation. I prayed that the forming funnel cloud wouldn’t reach the ground. As I watched the funnel cloud start to dissipate and disappear, I let out a deep breath as the funnel cloud disappeared back up into the sky. Now that I was safe and warm I had to deal with my ankle. I called a friend who came over and picked me up to go to the hospital. They took x-rays and confirmed that my ankle was broken. They cleaned up the wounds on my hands and knees and put a cast on my ankle and sent me on my way. I thanked my friend when they dropped me off and I laid down on the couch to relax. I slept for a few hours as the storm raged on outside. When I woke up it was calm and quiet. I looked outside and the sun was trying to peak out of the clouds. It appeared the storm was over. I reflected on my day and thought about how lucky I was to have survived my horrendous time in the forest. What started out as a nice quiet walk into the woods quickly turned into a living nightmare. As I reflected I decided that next time I would heed the weatherman’s warning. The nightmare in the forest made me a stronger person and I knew I could survive anything thrown at me. With that thought in my head I grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down to read a book. I knew that life could be tough and we have choices that could make it easy or hard. Today had been a hard day and I learned a little more about myself. I am strong women who can conquer anything I set my mind to. With that thought I slowly drifted off to sleep, thankful I had survived the day.