She is sick again. I feel her jolt from where she lay next to me and I grab what we affectionately call her, “chemo bucket” and bring it to her face. I rub her back and whisper between her vomit and sobs. I tell her things are gonna get better. I tell her she is strong. But I only believe one of those things. We lay back down and soon I feel the slow rise and fall of her breathing against my body. Absentmindedly, I go to run my fingers through her hair as I have done a thousand times before, but instead of the thick, black waves they are used to weaving through, my fingers catch the last few wisps of hair, my touch slicking them against the sheen of her sweat-drenched forehead. I slowly ease out of the bed, making sure that I don’t disturb what little sleep she is able to get. I won’t be sleeping tonight. I never sleep on chemo nights. They tell you what to expect and that everyone handles it differently, but their words do not prepare you for the reality of seeing your child filled with what they deem as “medication.” They don’t tell you about the hair that lines the tub and the brushes you try to hide because the bristles are tangled with strands of who she used to be: a normal little girl. They have no advice when your daughter asks if you can take down the hospital mirrors because she thinks she is ugly, and they certainly don’t tell you what to say when she asks you not to forget to take care of her pets because she won’t be able to when she is in heaven. I look around the room and see oceans of cards and flower arrangements. Drawings from her friends at school and get well soon cards written with the best of intentions. I reach for a card I have read over and over: Hey Sarah, I miss seeing you in class! You’re really lucky you’re not here, we do times tables every day. Hope you will be better after spring break. Get Well Soon! Those three words have never tasted so sour in my mouth, watching my child deteriorate before my eyes. I set the card down and look at the vases of flowers surrounding my daughter’s bed. Sarah has always loved flowers, as have I, but here they are cruel. Decapitated, half-dead beauties giving off a sweet yet simultaneously sickly smell. All their faces stare at her, almost in a sad acknowledgment, understanding their shared fate. I want to hide her from their judging eyes. I pace the tiny room and block their view of her. I am her guardian, her sentinel, and I refuse to let them taunt her with the imminence of their death. She stirs and I rush to her, but it was just a dream, not sickness that caused her to wake. “Momma?” “Yeah, baby,” I whisper. “Just making sure you’re still there.” “I’m not going anywhere.” I said, and I kissed her sweet, sweat-slicked forehead as she fell asleep again, and I stood watch, because I never sleep on chemo nights.


The view was breathtaking. Katja held on gently to Max, one of her closest friends. She saw that he was preparing. With his beak in the wind, he felt where the wind would take him. In the distance he looked for a place to land safely. Katja felt a twinge of jealousy. Max was convinced that one day he would learn to fly. Katja did not have that hope. Shortly after this moment it started. The disappearances. First, Max disappeared. It had been a beautiful night because of the full moon and Katja had not been able to sleep well. Every twig poked through her feathers. The next day, tired, she went looking for Max. There was no response to her calls. No one in the village knew where Max could be. Nobody worried, as if they knew where he was. "Do not worry." Was the only message they gave her. Katja had persuaded Pim to search the ruins together. Max had already disappeared for a few weeks, but the new full moon would have allowed them to search extra long tonight. Maybe all night long. They searched behind walls, in hollows and on all remaining roofs. There was no trace anywhere. In the end Katja agreed with Pim and they decided to go back to their nest. Katja led the way, humming to keep herself awake. For the outsider a light chirp. As a result, it took longer for her to realize that there was no sound behind her. "Good night, Pim!" Katja walked towards her parents' nest and sat between them. In the morning Katja was awakened by loud voices. She looked up carefully and saw that her parents were busy talking. "She's awake!" Pim's father came up to her. "Where is he? You searched together last night, right? Where were you?" His beady eyes seemed to want to see through Katja. Like X-rays. Her father intervened. "Calm down, Sjaak." He turned to Katja. "When did you last see Pim?" He asked her quietly. "Last night, just before I got home." She responded in a small voice. "How so?" "And where?" "At the ruins." She tilted her head as she watched them. "The ruins?" Her father suddenly seemed relieved. He patted his back. Sjaak looked a lot happier. To her surprise, no one cared about the disappearances. Katja did not understand. "What's with that ruin?" Her father looked at Katja. He doubted whether to answer. "That's the last place Max was seen." He paused. "You will learn when it's your time, I promise." A huge shadow moved across the forest over them. "Whoo-hoooo!" Katja and her father looked up. In the distance they saw Max skimming through the air, Pim flew after him at full speed. They laughed and spun around treetops before flying back towards the mountain. Towards the ruin. Katja began to understand and ran up the mountain. She, like Max and Pim, would make sure she would be next. The next to learn to fly.


MY FIRST CRUSH EVER was on this girl named "Jane Lastname". I was only about ten years old when I first met her. Her older brother played goalie for my older brother's hockey team. They played together for a few seasons, and Jane would be at every game. Over time, her and my younger sister became pretty good friends. She was a couple years older than my sister though, and that put her closer in age to me. So, over time, I became friends with her too. And I liked her. I remember pretending that I didn't like her, and teasing her, and doing all the dumb things that little boys do when they first start developing feelings that they don't understand...but I liked her. Alas, after years of friendship, when I was about twelve and a half, the time came for our brothers to move on and play for separate teams. And that was it. I never saw Jane again. Until... JANE FROM FOREVER AGO A Love Story I was seventeen years old. I had just begun my senior year in high school. I was unjustifiably confident, sorta cute in an awkward way, perpetually stoned, and just basically happy. It was Friday night. My friend, Rob, had just picked me up to head out to a party. The party was at a house in the big city, which was about a thirty minute drive from our small town. I didn't really know the person having the party, but Rob was going there to meet up with some chick, and he had asked me go with him. I had agreed because I liked parties. We arrived at the house. It was on a quiet street in a pretty nice neighborhood. However, as soon as we walked inside; we were met with chaos. The place was packed. That song, Mr. Brightside by The Killers, was blasting super loud, and kids were dancing everywhere. Rob and I quickly found a couple of drinks, met a few people, and started having a pretty good time. Eventually, Rob met up with his girl, and they sorta disappeared on me. It was cool though. I had started playing a drinking game with some dudes, and I hardly noticed he was gone. After the game, a few guys invited me to get high, and I followed them outback. There was a bonfire going on, and we all sat down around it. As we were smoking, a couple more groups of people came out and joined us by the fire. I figured I should introduce myself to some of these new people, so I stood up and said, "Hey guys, I'm...." "IAN!!" I spun around to see who had somehow successfully guessed my name. That's when I saw her. It had been years, but I still instantly recognized her. It was Jane Lastname, my old childhood crush. She was standing there, smiling ear to ear. And she looked absolutely amazing. She had grown up to become super, super hot. Before I even had a chance to say anything, she ran right up to me and gave me a giant hug. I was practically in a state of shock and could only manage to utter a simple, "Hey." "Oh my god! Ian! You probably don't even remember me! My name's Jane Lastname! Our brothers used to play hockey together. I had the biggest crush on you growing up!" I didn't know what to say. Of course I remembered her. I hadn't thought about her in forever, but I certainly hadn't forgotten about her. She was the first girl I had ever like-liked. She was the first girl I had ever tried to look nice for. She was the first girl I had ever wanted to do mouth stuff with. And now here she was, looking just unbelievably beautiful, and saying she used to have a crush on me too. This was officially the highlight of my life up until this point. I decided to just do my best to try and play things cool. "Oh, wow, Jane Lastname. Of course I remember you. How have ya been?" "I've been great! How have you been? How's your sister?!" "I've been good. She’s good. How's your brother, Jason? Is he still playing hockey?" "No, he gave that up a long time ago. He's actually going to school to become a vet." "Oh. That's weird. I thought you had to go to war to become a vet." Jane laughed. "No, silly. A veterinarian." "Oooh. That makes more sense. I just don't get why you didn't say kitty doctor." Jane laughed again. We sat down next to the bonfire and continued catching up. We talked about all the fun we used to have together at the hockey rink. We talked about all that had changed in our lives over the last five or so years. We talked about our families, and our friends, and our pets. We talked about everything. The minutes turned to hours with the two of us just lost in conversation. This crazy ass party kept going on around us, but it was like we were off in our own little world. I really liked talking to her too. She was funny, but even more importantly; she really seemed to find me funny. And I really liked making her laugh. She'd flash this little smile every time she started laughing, and it was just like the prettiest thing ever. It would send fireworks shooting around inside of me every time I saw it. We had been talking for over two hours straight when we were finally interrupted by one of Jane's friends. She stumbled over to us and started complaining to Jane about having to pee. Jane admitted she had to go to the bathroom as well, and told her friend she'd accompany her inside. But before she got up; she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. Then she whispered in my ear, "Don't move. I'll be right back." My heart was racing as I watched Jane and her friend head into the house. It really felt like there was something magical between us. A dude sitting on the other side of me tapped me on the shoulder to offer me a joint. I accepted it; and I started looking around at this giant party I had been ignoring. There were now an insane amount of kids there. And then, all of a sudden, out of like completely nowhere, about half of them shouted, "CCCOOOPPPPSSSSSS!!!!!" Sirens and flashing lights filled the air while kids scrambled in every direction. I just momentarily froze next to the fire with the joint in my mouth. Finally, my brain caught up to what was happening, and I decided that I should probably fucking run. So I jumped up and took off. I ran through at least two neighboring yards and then finally leapt behind a little bush. From where I hid, I could still see the back of the party house. And I watched as the cops chased around the unlucky kids. I sat behind my trusty little bush, watching and waiting for the cops to leave. Then, suddenly, I heard something much scarier than the sound of a siren. I heard a small rustling of leaves. It was coming from inside my trusty little bush. I looked closer. Then I spotted two little eyes staring back at me. And I FREAKED THE FUCK OUT! Once again, I was up and running. Only this time, I wasn't fearing some dumb underage drinking ticket. I was fearing being murdered by a horrifying, bloodthirsty, bush-dwelling creature. So the running didn't stop. I just kept on going. I probably ran for a good twenty minutes through random yards until I was positive there were no monsters chasing me. I eventually did force myself to stop running. Kinda because I knew I was being a giant pussy, and kinda because I was just completely out of breath. It was at this point that I realized two things: The first, was that I somehow still had that joint in my mouth. I had apparently neglected to ditch it during my entire chaotic escape. And that was pretty cool. But the second thing I realized, was that I had no idea where I was, no idea how far I'd just run, and no idea how to get back to the party. And that was significantly less cool. I took a brief moment to survey my surroundings. I deduced that my panicked sprinting had luckily maintained somewhat of a straight line. So it didn't take me too long to make it back out to the road that I was positive the party was on. It was pretty late by this point, and there were no cars to be seen in either direction. So I figured I'd just follow the road until I made it back. I lit my joint back up and began walking down the dark and lonely street. I prayed Rob hadn't left the party yet since he was my only ride home. But even more so; I prayed Jane would still be there. I wasn't ready for our reunion to be cut short like this. I really wanted to see where things might be going between us. I kept thinking about her as I continued my surprisingly long walk underneath the stars. I had always believed in that silly notion of "true love". That there was like one perfect person out there for everybody. A "soulmate". And now, I'm not saying that I thought Jane was my soulmate or anything. That'd be crazy. This was the first time I had seen her in forever. But still, I just had this weird feeling that maybe she COULD be my soulmate. I mean, who knows, right? I had been walking now for quite some time, but I still hadn't made it back to the party. Just then, I noticed a set of headlights approaching in the distance. I quickly tossed my everlasting joint fearing that it may be one of the cops that initially caused this whole mess. However, as the vehicle came closer, it began flashing its headlights, and I realized it wasn't a cop car. It was a Rob car. And the Rob inside looked super fucking pissed. He pulled over and immediately began shouting at me through his lowered window. "DUDE! WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN ALL NIGHT?!?!" "Oh, hey, man. Umm. There was an incident with a monster." "What?! What the fuck are you talking about? How stoned are you? Get in the god damn car!" I climbed in and began to explain to Rob about being by the bonfire when the cops showed up, and then hiding in the neighbor's yard, and then encountering a mysterious beast, and then running like a madman throughout the neighborhood. I continued to explain that we now had to return to the party so that I could meet back up with Jane... And that's when my heart broke. Rob explained that, not only was the party on a "completely different fucking road", but also that everybody there had been forced to leave. And that he'd been driving around trying to find me because some dude said I stole his joint and took off running when the cops arrived. And lastly, that there had been a girl looking everywhere for me as the party emptied out. But she had eventually given up and left. I was devastated. I tried getting Rob to drive back just to be certain Jane was gone, but he assured me that he had watched her leave. He said she had asked him and a bunch of other people if any of them knew where I was; but nobody did. So, she got into a car and left with her friends. He then made a comment about her being super, super hot. And I just felt like crying. The rest of the ride home from that party was brutal. I kept going over everything that had happened in my head. My old childhood crush had suddenly walked back into my life; only to then walk right back out of it even faster. And worst of all, I apparently still really liked her. And I think she really liked me too. But now none of that mattered. Because I was afraid of monsters. And she was gone forever. Or so I thought.


The world ended and nobody noticed. It didn’t even happen all that quickly. It had been years in coming, if you can believe it. Certainly the roots of the thing can be traced all the way back to that time we reportedly crucified an innocent man because we humans are just like that sometimes. The truth is both Oppenheimer and T. S. Elliot were wrong, the world did not end in a bang, nor even a whimper. It just ended, like it always was going to end, the only way it could end, as certain as the dot comes after the sentence. So ultimate, so undeniable, that for a while, no one even noticed. It was a culmination of sorts. Just enough went wrong that to repair it was simply beyond our means. In a couple weeks most government secrets were forcibly uncovered. Turns out our dear leaders hoarded a lot of technological advancements. For what purpose, I guess us common folks will never find out, but at least, in the end, whether out of desperation or genuine kindness, the highest tier of society revealed to everyone what they’d been working on all along. Cures for illnesses that until then had no cure, affordable renewable energy on a massive scale, even novel forms of voting, and modifications to current structures of government so drastic that what would have been left could not have truly been called a democracy. But none of these things were enough. It was far, far too late. I guess one of the most depressing statements was the one our own president gave at his final press conference before he bit the bullet. He said that if we had just reconciled certain conflicts both within the country and between nations no sooner than two years ago, then the end would have been averted. Just two years ago. I wonder what it was that kept us from surviving. An assassinated military official in the middle east? An oil spill in the gulf? An innocent man shot in the street by a cop over a misunderstanding? The world ended the way a domino chain ends. There is no arguing it, no fighting against it. It could only go one way, and though it might appear otherwise, the first domino is as important as the second to last. We could have grabbed a piece, pulled it out of the chain before the wave hit, but we were all too distracted by greed, and progress, and power over others. Meanwhile, the dominos kept falling. We don’t even know what sound the final domino will make, because we won’t be here to hear it. Does the end of the world make a sound if no one is there to hear it? I’m not totally sure, but my heart is convinced most of my extended family is dead. My wife and my daughter are with me, at least, and that makes me glad despite everything. My little girl is still too young to understand what is happening, and seems to be content in playing with her costumes in her room. I can hear her laughing as I type this. She’s probably spinning in front of her mirror, dressed as Batgirl, her favorite superhero. My wife is downstairs, cooking. She’s taken the bull by the horns, the love of my life. Told me she wants to make this meal a special one. I doubt we’ll get to have another one together. We should all be much more worried than we are. I’ve seen animals struggle out of traps until they tear their limbs off, even when there is no hope of escape, even when the hunter is upon them. But maybe we humans are just too aware. We know that the time to worry about it is long past, and now there’s nothing left to be done. We are living doomed lives in a doomed world, and know it. Why struggle? It would only make things worse. There are a few, of course, who are still trying to work out solutions. I commend those people. I was never one to give up on a challenge, but this was the ultimate test to my will. I’m not glad to have given up. I’m not sad, either, or angry, or depressed, or remorseful. I’m just waiting. We are all just waiting. The last domino in the chain of the human race is not the last domino in the line; the last domino was somewhere down the line, far enough that there was enough time for us to collectively pluck it out, to stop the wave, halt the end and survive. That we might prepare for another dooming domino and remove that one as well, and so on. Had we ever removed such a one? Had we as a human race stopped events that could have hastened the chain? I don’t know much about history, but I’m willing to give us some credit. The thing is, if we did do it once, it only means we just put the domino back where it was, toppled it, and started it all again. Because we didn’t learn. Because we were distracted. Because we were petty. In her room, my daughter laughs. My wife opens the door, and my little Batgirl runs out, holding up her cape. Dinner is ready, my wife says. I realize I was wrong when I said I wasn’t sad or angry. I realize I should have fought. I should have done something at least. I should have nudged that domino just a tiny bit. Then maybe this wouldn’t be our last dinner together. But now it’s too late.


A scientist is working on a space program that is about to send another probe to a nearby planet that is known to have a vastly different environment compared to Earth. Their job is to design a few experiments and tools to test things once a probe has sucessfully landed. Knowing about the harsh conditions, the scientist is reminded of recently discovered extremophiles on Earth and just can't stop thinking about how such lifeforms might react to a similar environment if forced to survive there. After several weeks of pondering, the scientist comes up with an experiment that involves sending extremophiles along with the probe. The argument made is that it would be extremely valuable to understand if life from Earth could be introduced in another environment. How would these specialized extremophiles adapt to new conditions? Would they survive and mutate? How long would that take? A colleague finds this intriguing, so the scientists designs a more serious concept and eventually presents it to a superior. "Are you crazy? We can't just contaminate another planet with extremophiles from Earth!? What if there is already life on that planet? This experiment could have negative effects we can't even imagine. And even if there is no life on that planet, we would have a difficult time proving that once we introduce lifeforms from Earth. This is a really bad idea, please focus on your actual task!" Somewhat hurt, the scientist returns to designing other experiments, but the idea doesn't just vanish. After getting in touch with an old friend, they invite a biologist who has been researching extremophiles for a bit now. They start talking about possible experiments on the other planet, how to design them to answer the initial question: if extremophiles can exist on Earth, can they survive on another planet, even though they won't have much time to adapt? They discuss mutation rates due to increased radiation as well as possible chemical reactions that might occur over time, possibly creating a beneficial local environment to survive long enough to adapt. The biologist promises to do some experiments and they agree to have another meeting in a few months. The biologist gets in touch with a chemist, who is equally excited about such an experiment. So they start to design a box that could hold several cultures of extremophiles for a longer period of time, protecting them from the harsh conditions of the other planet; taking into account what they know about the conditions and the materials used for the space probe, they test a few designs and eventually discover that there could be a way to protect extremophiles long enough until the entire containment reacts with the atmosphere, exposing the lifeforms. But they hope that until then at least a few might have mutated and somewhat adapted. It's mostly a shot in the dark, but it's worth a try. The overall design is adapted to match the specifications for the craft and the scientist approaches the superior once more. "Ok, it seems like you really can't follow orders, but I'll take it serious just to show you that this won't work." They go over the details and the general design seems fine, but after a few more calculations, it becomes clear that the containment won't survive long enough. Best case, the extremophiles simply die off within days and are eaten alive due to the atmospheric conditions, worst case, they do survive due to pure luck and contaminate the planet. The scientists does not share that conclusion at all, as their survival would be the best case scenario. The superior is speechless. "You better get back to work right now or I'll fire you on the spot! This nonsense stops now!" The scientist leaves teeth-gnashingly. This could be such a great experiment, there is no doubt. A few days later, a very excited biologist calls. "You won't believe this but I found an interesting genetic variant that has higher mutation rates for some reason. We started to create a much harsher environment in our lab and they not only survived but adapted within a week. They are now more resistant and I think we could give them even a much harder time and they might actually survive. I'll call you back in another week!" Eight days later it is confirmed. Even though this genetic variant has populated a niche for eons, it seems to have the ability to adapt quickly to harsher conditions. For some reason, increased radiation activated a gene sequence that would allow for unexpectedly fast adaption. The biologist wants to publish the paper as soon as possible. They agree to meet in the biologist's lab to take a closer look together and possible redesign the experiment for the planetary probe one last time. They work through the entire weekend and the final result is actually much better. The containment would be intact for about a week, giving the extremophiles just enough time to adapt to the initially experienced new conditions within the containment. Then, the material would slowly peel away and give them a bit more time to adapt to the actual conditions, especially of the atmosphere and radiation levels. Worst case, they don't make it - best case, they survive and could be detected by future missions. Either way, it would be worth a try. The biologist is ecstatic. This could turn into a Noble Prize. After all these years of tedious work, finally a worthy reward. They start one-upping each other what they would do with all the money, but after a while it becomes rather one-sided and the biologist explores the sudden silence. "You can't publish these findings. If we want this experiment to succeed, you need to wait until the probe is on its way to the planet. Otherwise, they will suspect that I might be involved and search the craft. If you go public now, we'll never get a chance to do this. You need to wait nine more months, just to be safe. After that, you can do whatever you want." "I really can't wait that long I'm afraid. I need the funding yesterday. The results are amazing, I have already started writing. I'm planning to send the paper next month to be peer-reviewed. It will be all work and no play but this is such a crazy discovery. I - *we* - need to publish. Other people will discover this as well and they won't hesitate to share the findings with the rest of the world. Nine months is too long." "My entire career will be destroyed if you publish now and all the effort will be for nothing. I'm not willing to risk all that just so you can get an early paycheck. Can't you see how this experiment benefits both of us? You could even include the planetary experiment once we have the data!" "You don't even know if there will be another launch after all these failed attempts recently. Besides, your career will be over one way or another. Even if the experiment is a success, the scientific community won't be pleased to find out we basically contaminated another planet on purpose. Not everyone will see the value of this experiment. I need to publish these findings seperately, they are too valuable to be held back. The planetary experiment is your department, you will have to find a way to publish those findings yourself. Don't drag me into your problems just because we have worked this out together!" A heated debate starts and the arguments made receive more vocal support through alcohol consumption. While the extreme extremophiles are minding their own business in an even harsher environment than before, fists start to hit faces and other body parts. As the lab slowly adapts to these violent conditions, making room for unexpected movements rather awkardly, a skull eventually hits the floor. A one-sided inquiry quickly evolves into panicky cries for help, but it turns out that Sundays tend to keep away other people for unknown reasons. A phone call is made while the lab continous to wonder if an increasing amount of red liquid on its floor is considered a hazard. After a few silent moments, sudden hectic movements result in additional minor glassy fatalities, mostly noticed by the smoke detector. But since there is no smoke to report, the alarm is not triggered; it is clearly not the smoke detector's job to detect other problems. Someone leaves in a hurry and the lab is finally able to determine the current state of things. Apart from something heavy and warm blocking the floor in a puddle of wet liquid, many things are not where they are supposed to be - not just misplaced, but also missing entirely. This is concerning, yet such mayhem never occured before so maybe this is just temporary and things will return to normal soon. Voices are approaching after a while and it seems like many more CO2 emitters are entering the smoke detector's observable universe. It is not enough to trigger the alarm, but it is still unsettling as this is an unusual amount of CO2 emitters at this time of the week. Sundays are supposed to be quiet, that is what continous observations throughout an entire decade have revealed. The anomaly could be of relevance, but that remains to be seen. It is a rainy day when an old scientist is shaving an old friend who has never moved a finger during the last few decades. The news is all over the radio and TV. Signs of life have been found on a nearby planet which is a surprise since the harsh environment was believed to be uninhabitable for quite a while now. The idea that life could exist in such a place is creating excitement all over the world. "Listen to this my friend. Isn't this great news? We finally have an answer after all these years. What a great discovery!" The warm soapy water experiences more turbulence as a foreign object is diving into it. Being treated like that is upsetting for several reasons but the worst part is the grey residue that keeps floating everywhere, making it really difficult to enjoy life in general. One could file a complaint to the larger body, but in this current position there is no way to communicate. The soap itself, a companion one has accepted over the years, also is not amused. The general consensus is that this invasion can not stand, especially after the foreign object seems to be a distant relative of what is already spreading in their main habitat. As they debate potential actions, they are flung into the dark corridor, which will reunite them with the larger body in a while. This part of the journey is unpleasant but it is the only way to return after being seperated from the rest. At some point, the soap will go a different way, so their time to come up with a proper report is limited. "You see, my friend, it truly was worth it. Now we can finally celebrate!" A bubbly liquid is separated into two transparent vessels of a similar material compared to the previous enclosure; but after a short while, it is reunited again. What a curious thing to happen, as the initial separation didn't serve any purpose at all? The bubbly liquid is confused yet happy to oblige. Its job just started and it will be quite a journey. "I think you can publish your paper soon.


So there was this girl. She glowed. Like she was made out of christmas lights. The first time I saw her, I just thought, “Oh man, what a cute chick.” But that’s it. I didn’t really give her a second thought. I just went on with my life. She was really beautiful, but there are a lot of really beautiful girls in this world. Like, I see beautiful girls all the time. But, then, I soon saw this specific beautiful girl again. And again. And again. I just kept randomly seeing her at different places. And I wasn’t even sure if it was really the same girl. It just seemed super weird that I’d keep randomly seeing her at different places like that. However, I was definitely inclined to think it was the same chick. Because, I mean, she fucking glowed, you guys. Like white sneakers in the back of Spencer's Gifts. Either way, the more I saw her; the more she stood out to me. And the more she stood out to me; the more I was able to determine that it was in fact the same exact chick. Eventually, I was able to learn her name. And I even managed to talk to her a little bit. And, yeah, she turned out to be coolest, my dudes. Just like unique and nice and super chill and funny. Seemed like she had dope interests and like a kindness to her heart. I mean, I still barely knew her. But, yeah, I don’t know, man, I just really liked her. I felt like she was so god damn special. It just seemed like she was exactly the type of girl I’d always wanted to meet, ya know. But, well, was I the exact type of dude that she’d always wanted to meet? You see, that was the question, my friends. Like, was her ideal Prince Charming a lazy, immature pothead with a lame job, a shitty car, a messy apartment, and a goofy looking face? I mean, it seemed technically possible, but... So, yeah, you know me, guys. I didn’t go for it. I just didn’t have the confidence to try and make anything happen. I didn’t want to seem like a character from Monsters Inc thinking he had a shot with one of chicks from Frozen. But I still kept seeing her, man. Randomly, all of the time, at different places. And, of course, every single time, she glowed. Like Rainbow Road. Alright... So... I’m not really sure exactly when it started, but, eventually, without me even realizing it; I kinda started to dress a little nicer each day. Nothing crazy, but, ya know, I just began to try and look a little less homeless than usual. Just in case I saw Glow Girl that day. And again, it wasn’t anything insane. I just payed a little more attention to how I looked before I left my apartment each morning because I never knew when I might see her. And, like I said, I didn’t even really realize it. But it was soon pointed out to me. By like multiple people. My boss mentioned something about me looking more professional lately. My parents kept telling me how oddly nice I looked when I saw them. This super cute chick at the coffee place I go to started complimenting my sweaters. It was kinda awesome. But it was also kinda weird. Because I did quickly put together that the only reason I was dressing nicer was because of Glow Girl. But nobody else knew that obviously. So they all just made it seem like I was finally getting my shit together or something. And I clearly knew that wasn’t the case. I was still just the lame, insecure, neurotic loser who ate fast food every night, smoked too many cigarettes, drank about ten pots of coffee a day, and cried during rom-coms. But, well, that’s when I started thinking... Like, okay, stay with me here. I knew I sucked. You guys know I suck. But Glow Girl did not know that I sucked. And, like, so far, all I had done was dress just a tiny bit nicer. But, already, people were kinda acting like I sucked less. So, it was like, maybe I could just do more of this, ya know. Like, maybe I could just pretend I really was finally getting my shit together. I mean, I had absolutely no intention at all of actually getting my shit together. But, well, who said I couldn’t pretend to. I knew I was never going to be the type of guy that Glow Girl would picture herself ending up with. But, in reality, I didn’t really have to be that type of guy. I just needed her to think that I was. I was already randomly seeing her all the time at a bunch different places. I figured all I really had to do was pretend to be a much better person than I actually am whenever I was around her. Alright... So... Operation Good Guy went into effect. Now, I had already begun dressing a little nicer, but I kinda wanted to up the ante. So I went out and bought just like a ton of new clothes. Nothing too fancy or expensive or anything, but just, ya know, stuff that was an improvement over the same shit I’d been wearing since high school. Then, I called up my hairdresser, White Rihanna, and I got a dope haircut. And, I gotta admit, I looked good. Well, as good as I could. I wasn’t exactly able to improve the overall goofiness of my face or anything. However, you know what they say: you can’t always change the picture, but you can usually give it a fucking sweet frame. Okay, maybe they don’t always say that, but they should. Either way, I was no longer just hoping that I’d see Glow Girl every day. I was now also hoping that she’d see me. And, well, that’s when I started thinking... Like, I’d been randomly seeing Glow Girl all the time at different places, right? So, it would stand to reason, if I went out more often, to more different places: I’d probably randomly see Glow Girl more. I mean, we lived in a pretty fucking small town, man. The more I was out and about; the more I was gonna run into this chick. And, don’t get me wrong, I didn’t want to do anything, ever, other than just sit in my shitty apartment smoking weed, eating candy, and playing xbox. I definitely didn’t want to go out and just do stuff. However...I could pretend I did. So I started just, like, going out and doing more stuff, dude. I mean, my friends had always texted me a lot to meet up for drinks or whatever, but I’d usually make up some excuse as to why I couldn’t go. But, yeah, I don’t know, I just started saying okay and meeting up with them. And we’d usually end up having a lot of fucking fun. I also started kinda hanging out with my family more often. I’d always gotten along great with my family, but I’d usually only see them once every couple of weeks or so. But I just sorta started texting them and seeing if they wanted to go out to dinner and shit. And it was great. Sometimes it would just be me and my sister or brother. Other times just me and parents. A few times we got the whole crew together. It was just nice, ya know. And, sure, none of my friends or family knew the real reason I was suddenly going out so much with them was just to improve my chances of seeing somebody else. But, I mean, whatever. In the end, we’d always just have a great time together. So, I just felt like who cares, ya know. Now...having said that...guys, the plan was totally fucking working! Like, the more I went out, the more I randomly saw Glow Girl. And naturally she was always glowing. Like stars reflecting over the ocean. But, now, I felt like I looked kinda nice too. I wasn’t really sure whether or not she noticed. But something just told me she did, man. Still, would that be enough? I mean, anyone could dress nice. That alone wasn’t going to make me her dream guy or whatever. The rest of my life was still a giant fucking mess. But...then again...I could always pretend it wasn’t. Alright... So... My car was kind of like a piece of shit. And I obviously wasn’t going to go out and buy a new car. But I figured I’d just pretend mine wasn’t such a piece of shit. So I cleaned it and washed it. Went out and got some new stuff for the interior. Just tried to make it look decent, ya know. And, yeah, man, when I was done, it actually looked pretty good. Like, you’d totally think I was responsible and took care of it for years or whatever. My apartment was just sorta sad. Like, I’d been living there for a while, but there was barely anything in there. I had two bedrooms, but one of them was literally completely empty. So I just went out and bought some stuff. A bunch of new furniture, got some artwork for the walls, a couple of lamps, a few plants. I turned my empty spare bedroom into a neat little comic book covered office. I ended up making my whole apartment look pretty fucking dope. And, like, guys, I knew I’d probably never have Glow Girl in my car, or get her back to my apartment or anything. But, I mean, I just wanted to make it seem like my life wasn’t a giant mess. So, yeah, I just figured cleaning up my apartment and car would be a good way to start. And, you know what, dude, again, that shit kinda worked. Well, I mean, not really, but I was driving the one day, and I saw Glow Girl again. She was glowing of course. Like a raver’s plastic jewelry. She was with some friends, but she saw me and she waved. So, yeah, I just felt like having her see me in my newly washed and cleaned car was better than having her see me in the dirt box that it very recently was. Especially given that she was with her friends. And, well, that’s when I started thinking... Like, I had yet to really consider the fact that Glow Girl had friends. I mean, I obviously knew she would, but I just hadn’t really thought about it before. She was the fucking coolest so she probably had a million friends. And, ya know, we lived in a pretty fucking small town, man. So, like, she could be friends with people I passed on the street everyday, or random dudes I’d see out, or even like the super cute chick from the coffee place I go to who liked my sweaters. I mean, literally, anyone at all whom I encountered could wind up being her friend. Or if not her friend; maybe her neighbor, or like her cousin, or her old field hockey teammate. Like, the possibilities were endless. And, at first, I was like, FUCK. Because this whole time I had just been worried about what I looked like and how I acted when I saw Glow Girl. But now I realized that wasn’t going to to be enough. Because like, at anytime, I could be around people who knew her or were friends with her or whatever. But, the more I thought about that shit, the more I started to consider that it may in fact be a good thing. Because it was like, now, I could just pretend to be awesome, all of the time, around completely random people. And just assume one or more of them knew Glow Girl. Then, ya know, if my name ever came up, someone close to Glow Girl would just be like, “Oh man, that dude’s fucking awesome.” Alright... So... I just started pretending to be a better person than I am, to everyone, everywhere, all of the time. And I know that sounds kinda crazy, but it was actually remarkably simple. Like, I was just nicer to people. And friendlier. More generous. More caring. I gave people compliments for no reason other than to make them feel good. I went out of my way to help people whenever I thought they could use it. I just pretended to be a genuinely good dude, man. Like, I grew up idolizing superheroes so it really wasn’t that hard. I just did the type of shit I thought Chris Evans would do. But I didn’t stop with how I acted towards random people. I kept it going with how I acted when I was simply around random people. Like, I’d always see a ton of random people at the grocery store. Who knew which ones might end up being friends with Glow Girl. I figured I should just make myself look like a well put together individual in front of all of them. So I started buying like fruits and vegetables and actual food instead of just filling up my entire cart with sour patch kids and CT Crunch. This resulted in me not having to eat fast food as much which I saw as a secondary plus. Because no single guy looks great walking through their apartment’s courtyard with seventeen bags of Taco Bell. Eventually, this kinda led to the next step which was huge. Like, now that my plan was just to try look good in front of random people; there was one thing I definitely knew made me look bad. The fact that I had a cigarette in my mouth 24/7. I knew smoking was gross. I knew it made me look gross. Now I knew I had to stop. So I did. I mean, I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t quit completely. But I just decided I would never smoke in front of someone who could end up knowing Glow Girl. And since I assumed everyone could end up knowing her. That meant I couldn’t smoke around anyone. Combine that with the fact I refused to smoke in my newly cared for car, and the fact that my entire apartment complex was smoke-free; and, yeah, it wasn’t long until my pack a day habit was down to like just a few drunken cigarettes a week or so. Now, while all of this happening; I kept seeing Glow Girl. Still, all of the time, at different places. And, ya know, every time, she’d be glowing. Like a jerk’s cell phone screen in a movie theater. But, with each time I saw her; yeah, I mean, I don’t know, I just kinda talked to her a little more, you guys. And I started feeling way more comfortable doing it. I think it was just because I really believed my whole pretend to be a better person plan was working so well. Like, I knew in reality I was still a shitty person, but I just felt like I was totally passing as a pretend okay guy. And, like, man, I fucking loved talking to this chick. She just made me laugh. I made her laugh a lot too. And, yeah, that just made me insanely fucking happy. No, for real, like insanely fucking happy. Seriously, I just started being a lot happier, in general. It was like I suddenly didn’t hate waking up in the morning. I looked forward to what adventures my new pretend persona might get into each day. It was kinda as though Glow Girl just made my whole fucking world seem a little bit brighter. Soon, my newly found anti-pessimism spilled over into my shitty job. Like, my whole deal at work is basically just me talking to people and trying to get them to like me. And it turned out a happier me was a whole lot more likable. So I started doing kinda well. Like, improving my performance noticeably. And, more than that, I started having a little bit of fun with it. I was just in a better mood, doing better than I ever had, and it became sorta easy to kinda enjoy myself. My shitty job almost stopped seeming so shitty. Alright... So... I was now trying to look nicer each day. I was going out more and more often with my friends and family and having fun. I was taking good care of my car and my apartment. I was eating healthier. I was smoking way less. I was doing a lot better at work. I was trying to be an awesome person to everyone I encountered everyday. And I was the happiest I’d been in a long time. It really did seem like I’d finally gotten my shit together. And, well, I had to keep reminding myself that it was all just pretend. Because it started to feel pretty god damn real, you guys. Like, honestly, man, it just began to seem like my entire life had vastly improved. It felt like everyone liked me more. I know that sounds lame, but it’s true. I felt like I had more friends than I’d had since way back in the day. And it felt like girls were suddenly not totally against fucking me. No joke, I had two just like sorta random girls ask me out for drinks. I mean, shit, guys, that had literally never happened to me before in my life. And, well, that’s when I started thinking... Maybe this wasn’t all just pretend. I mean, like, I really had been doing all of this stuff that I thought would make me seem like a better person. And everyone was kinda treating me like I had become a better person. And I had kinda started to feel like I was truly being a better person. So, like, maybe I really was a better person? And, sure, this had all started as just a way for me to pretend to be the type of guy I thought Glow Girl would like. Because, ya know, she glowed. Like a five and half foot tall, girl-shaped lava lamp. But, it had turned into a lot more than that, you guys. I didn’t know for sure if I’d become the type of person Glow Girl would like. But I just finally felt like I’d become the type of person I liked. I didn’t feel like a piece of shit anymore. I was no longer embarrassed about the person I was. I felt the opposite actually. I was fucking proud of myself. Like, I really had turned into a pretty good dude. There was only one question remaining. Would I be good enough? Alright... So... The next time I saw Glow Girl, I was beaming with confidence. I was beaming with pride. I was beaming with excitement. In fact, I was beaming so god damn much...you could say I was glowing. I knew it was time to finally make my move. But, before I did, I made a promise to myself. No matter what happened; I wasn’t going to go back to the old me. I was just continue being the best version of myself that I could. Because even if Glow Girl still didn’t like me. That was fine. Because, for the first time in a long time, I liked me. And I knew that was way more fucking important. Still, there was no denying this had all started with her. She was the reason I had wanted to be a better person. She was the reason I had worked so hard to become a better person. And she was the reason I was so excited to be a better person. She was the girl of my dreams, you guys. I liked her so fucking much. I’m lame, and I believe in true love. I always have, and I always will. And, honestly; I really just felt like she might be it, man. I mean, she fucking glowed. Like she was made out of sunshine. So...I finally asked her out. Nothing major, I just asked her if she wanted to maybe get dinner together sometime. And... Well... Let’s all just pretend she said yes.


"Is that your wish?" Asked the genie. "Yes, that's my wish." I said. With a booming voice the genie responds. "Your wish is my command! When you sleep tonight you will wake the next morning a five year old in 1989 with all the knowledge you currently possess." Later that night I fall asleep thinking of the steps I need to take when I wake tomorrow. I wake to the sound of my mom calling me for breakfast. The first thing I notice is how much bigger everything is. I can't do much now, after all she's only one year old, but I can get a jump start on a few things. During breakfast, I ask my mom if I can start learning a second language, specifically português. Five more years pass by. She's six years old now and I'm very fluent in português. I sit down at the desk in my room and pull out a notebook and a pen. I've been writing letters to different addresses and churches in Altamira trying to locate where she lives and yesterday I finally got a response from someone saying they are a friend of the family as well as an address. I decide to keep the letter simple. *Dear Sra. Araujo,* *You don't know but me but I know a little about you. You do a wonderful job raising your daughters to be good women. One day I will marry one of them. This probably sounds like the scribbling of a mad man but I am very much sane. If I may, I'd like to ask your permission to continue writing letters to your youngest daughter Francisca.* *With Love and Respect,* *LTM* Now to hope the letter reaches them and that my future letters don't end up being thrown away. Every January 24th I would write a letter wishing a happy birthday. I never said anything too specific so as to not cause any changes that might turn my love into someone else. As the years pass by I do what I can to improve my new future but every decision is made with the sole focus of marrying the most beautiful and wonderful woman in the world. As soon as I was able to, I applied for a travel visa to Brazil. When I turned twenty two I withdrew the money I had placed in a specific bank account I had nicknamed “Love at First Sight”. I used the money to buy tickets to Altamira for a few days as well as hotel reservations. I had plenty of money to upgrade to first class seats. After all, I did have about four years of working plus thirteen years of any change or allowance money I had earned as a child. The moment I was able to get my bags and leave the airport I went to Tolly Boutique. Unfortunately she wasn’t working today. I asked an employee if they know Francisca? They said they did and that she would be working tomorrow. I thanked them and left for my hotel. I was barely able to sleep that night. When I woke I took a shower, brushed my teeth, put on deodorant, and said a quick prayer. I rushed out of the hotel and to the clothing store. As I opened the door I saw her. It had been sixteen years and finally there she was standing before me like an angel from heaven. As hard as it was to not stare I did my best to act like a normal customer. I approached her and said I was visiting Brazil and taking in the sights but that my luggage was lost during the flight. I told her I wasn’t very good at buying clothes and asked if she would help me pick some things out. Of course, I lied about losing my bags but I didn’t bring any extra clothes with me because I had planned to buy what I needed once I arrived. I tried to be somewhat indecisive about what I wanted in order to buy myself more time with her but not so much that I would become an annoying customer. After a while I had the clothes I needed and she took me to the counter to total my purchase. After I paid she handed me the receipt and I asked for a pen. I wrote a few words, handed her back the receipt, and left the store. It read: ***A Promise*** *I promise to love you* *with all of me* *to care for you* *until my death* *to hold you* *when you cry* *to protect you* *to my last breath* *to wait for you* *in eternity* *Wait for me.* *LTM* The next day was the worst. I headed to the airport for my return flight. I stared out the window of the plane with tears in my eyes as the plane took off. It would be another three years before I would see her again. I continued to work and save my money. I needed to save as much as I could for what was coming next. By twenty two I had a doctorates in portugues literature. I had started the college courses before I had graduated high school and even took courses during the summer. I then applied for a student visa to Brazil in order to attend the Federal University of Para. Once I was twenty four it was time for the last step of my plans. I once again boarded a plane for Brazil and again I had tears in my eyes but this time they were tears of joy not sadness. I finally landed at the airport in Breves and it wasn’t long before I was at my apartment which I had arranged for ahead of time. Even though I had a PhD in portugues literature I had signed up for all the same courses that she should be taking. The next day I would start my first class. Luckily, I was an expert in the courses I was about to take so I could put all my focus on her. Again, I barely got any sleep from the anticipation of seeing her. The next day I woke up early enough to get ready and arrive at the first class early. I took my seat and saved a seat next to me. I didn’t know how but I’m going to have her sit next to me. The classroom slowly began to fill but she still wasn’t here. I began to think that maybe I wasn’t going to have this class with her until, finally, she walked through the door. At that moment, I had the strongest urge to give her a long hug and a warm kiss. She looked around the room with those beautiful brown eyes and she had her hair down. Oh how much I love seeing her with her hair down! There was one open seat left however I had poured some soda on it already. She began to walk towards the seat but I intervened telling her some idiot spilled soda on the seat but that the seat next to me was clean. Just like in the clothing store it was hard for me not to stare. I was only able to occasionally glance over at her. Once the class was over I asked her what other classes she was taking. After talking for a short while about our classes she asked me if I had ever been to Altamira to which I responded with a simple, “Yes.” “You probably don’t remember me but I worked in a clothing store in Altamira. I think we met there once before,” she said. “Of course I remember you. How could someone ever forget a face as beautiful as yours,” I said. She paused for a moment, glancing down at the floor. Then looked me in the eyes and said, “I waited for you.


In our small town in the middle of nowhere, there was a girl named Vita. Vita was known by all who lived there, but not in a good way. Many of the townspeople called Vita and her mother the Water family. Any problem or weird occurrence was usually blamed on the Water's, as they had a bad reputation and they were associated as devil worshippers. The reason why they felt this way was because Vita’s mother claimed that her daughter was cursed as a child by some kind of demonic being. This claim alone left many people to start rumors about the family. Later once they found out what the curse was, the family was then ridiculed and made a joke. Inevitably causing them to keep to themselves. I always found the curse claimed to be put on Vita rather odd as well, which made the rumors understandable. I had grown up with Vita understanding her lifestyle and becoming what seemed like her only friend. She was a sweet person and she had a strong personality to her. She knew how people in town felt about her and she used it to her advantage. Claiming the devil will “kill” them if they kept spreading rumors. Of course, I learned this was all just a joke to her; her real goal was to get people to leave her alone. She knew no devil was going to kill them, but she did tell me there was one that would kill her. Vita's curse is that she cannot be submerged in water unless another living being was in the water as well. It may sound complicated but Vita herself has explained it to me in detail. For example, she explained that she is not allowed to bathe alone. She would always have to have a goldfish or other animal in the bathwater first, or another person in the water with her. Vita says if she follows this rule then she is safe, but claims if she is ever submerged in water without following this rule, the demon Stagnoram will find her and take her. To help prevent this from happening simple locks were also placed on all the faucets in the home. A simple turn and click could unlock them but this helped deter Vita from turning the water on without being prepared. The constant use of fish in Vita’s life caused her to be quite fond of them. They made her feel “safe,” she told me. This caused the family to make constant trips to the pet store, as many fish would eventually die due to use. Vita had many, many funerals for the fish, and she cried at every single one. Her backyard encased a small hill and at the base, she had a fish cemetery where the funerals took place. Of course, this curse did not apply to drinking water; she was safe in that aspect. Only when her body was submerged or covered in water would she be in danger. Therefore, whenever there was a rainy day Vita was always in the dry safety of her home. Due to unpredictable weather, whenever she went out she always carried an umbrella and a rain poncho in a small shoulder bag, just in case she had to cover herself quickly and find shelter to avoid water. In her house, there were fish everywhere. Around every corner and on almost every table stood a small glass jar with a goldfish in each one. She told me these fish are there in case of emergencies, whatever that means. Besides living by this rule, Vita and her mother had a very normal life, and they were amazingly kind people. If only the people in town could see just how normal they were. I always wanted to believe Vita, and I told her I did, but deep down I still felt like she could not be cursed. Now looking back, I wish I had believed her… It all happened one day when Vita’s mother asked me if I would spend the day with her because she had to leave for a work opportunity and could not take Vita with her. She would be gone until the next day, so her mother asked me to look out for her and keep her away from water. Of course, I accepted and proceeded to spend the day with Vita. She and I started the midday by heading to a local diner to eat out. We chose to order our food then find a nice spot outside in the sunshine. It was a beautiful day that day and the smoothies tasted better than usual. Sitting at our table near the diner, I began to see a sliver of movement in the distance. Behind Vita emerging from the corner, a group of boys quickly shuffled along carrying a large bucket filled to the brim with water. I immediately jumped into action trying to stop them. “No!” I yelled, but before I could get to them, it was already too late. The boys dumped the bucket of water onto Vita’s head. She screamed. Her scream was so loud and terrifying that it shook me. Everyone in the entire town probably heard her piercing cry. It caused the young boys to stumble and quickly retreat around the corner, snickering and making jokes as they ran away. Vita, with her now soaked black hair and drenched clothing, began to panic. Her eyes widened and her face strained in a way I have never seen before. It was as if what they did to her mentally broke her momentarily. Suddenly I could hear a deep sound all around us. It was like a vibration but it coursed through the air. You could feel it pressing against the outside of you like a shirt that you could not see, but you could still feel the weight of it. It grew in volume and intensity when finally, it became what sounded like a voice. “*So that’s where you have been*…” The voice emanated from nowhere but everywhere at the same time, almost as if I could hear it, but only inside my head. It was a low whisper but its tone was something unforgettable. It was deeper than any voice I had ever heard, but it could not have been human. It felt sinister. Vita looked directly at me. Tears in her eyes. “I need to get home. It found me.” The words barely escaped her lips. “You heard it too?” I asked her. The feeling of fear began to swell within me now. I was not the only one who heard that awful sound. That voice. It sounded pure evil. I was hoping it was just my mind playing tricks on me. Something like this could not possibly happen. It could not be real, this was all just some crazy trick or game she was playing on me. “He’s coming. We have to go.” Vita exclaimed. “Who is coming? Are you playing tricks on me, Vita? Is this all some kind of game to you?” She stood up and looked at me. Her face wore a look of disappointment. “Out of everyone I thought you would always believe me.” her voice cracked as she said it. She sighed and turned away, beginning to walk toward her home leaving me behind. I stood there for a moment feeling guilty as hell. In her weakest moment, I was not there for her. Then practically called her a liar about her curse. I pulled myself together and began running to catch up to her. I caught up to her and patted her back. “You’re going to be ok, don’t worry.” I tried to reassure her, and at the same time, I felt I was reassuring myself as well. Vita looked at me and gave a small smile, but sadness still lingered in it. “Stagnoram is coming to kill me now thanks to those stupid boys who don’t understand. They don’t understand anything. They have no idea what they’ve done to me!” Her voice was stern and harsh now. I could tell that she was first scared, but is now filled with anger at the situation. I followed her silently as we approached her house allowing her to yell and vent along the way. She shoved the door to her house open as she entered. As soon as she did, the sky cracked and it began to rain. “Well that’s just great isn’t it!” she yelled in an angry sarcastic tone as she threw her bag onto the couch. I walked in and closed the door behind me. Vita grabbed a towel and began drying herself off. “You’re gonna be ok right?” I asked her. She turned to me as she was wringing her hair out. “No. Something terrible is probably going to happen.” As soon as she said it, lightning flashed near the window. The loud crack of thunder echoed through the house. The sound of rain began growing into a noisy static. “Can you check the weather?” Vita asked. “Sure.” I walked to the living room and turned on the TV, switching to the news. As soon as it flickered on, I was taken back. “Flooding?” I whispered it. Vita ran over and snatched the remote out of my hand turning up the volume. “Evacuation efforts have been taken. Nine inches of rain is predicted with some areas facing even heavier rain.” The news anchor spoke as they displayed footage of our town being hit by a major flash flood. Parts just near us were already beginning to have issues as water began entering people’s homes. “He is on to me… He found me… I know it, he found me.” Her voice was shaky and I could tell she was scared. The sound of the rain began to get louder now. “I need to tell my mother what happened, that he knows where I am.” She picked up the home phone and began dialing. As soon as she did, we lost power and everything went dark. Vita let out a small shriek in the darkness. I made my way to her as my eyes slowly began to adjust and I could finally see around me. I reached her and tried to calm her down. We stood there in silence for a long time. Eventually, the streetlights outside began to buzz as they powered on, allowing us more light to see. The rain and thunder raged intensely as we stood there. “Let’s distract ourselves.” I halfheartedly suggested hoping to release the tension. “How about goldfish?” Vita exclaimed joyfully. She turned to me with a spark in her eye. “I’m totally gonna win” she taunted me as she began setting up the card game on the small coffee table. “You’re on!” I laughed as I challenged her. The tension in the air seemed to be broken now, and Vita almost acted as if she forgot about her curse entirely. However, the joy did not last for long. Soon we began to see water leaking through the bottom of the front door. Vita immediately grabbed sandbags from a small closet and began stacking them in front of the door. “Get all the doors leading outside.” She handed me large bags of sand as she asked. “Where did you get all this stuff?” I asked her as I set bags in front of the back door. “I’m always prepared for water.” She sighed as she said it. After putting bags in front of every door leading outside, we regrouped in the living room. The bags were working well, keeping the water at bay for now. All was well but an odd sound began to grow in the distance. I cocked my head to the side and began listening intently. I know this sound; I had heard the same sound at the diner. The deep vibration that grew into some otherworldly voice. Thinking of the voice made me shudder. It sounded as if the vibration was getting closer and closer to the house. Vita quickly grabbed her bag and put on a yellow see-through rain poncho. She unsheathed her umbrella and began pointing it around like a weapon. “Where the hell are you Stagnoram?” she yelled into the air, looking around in every direction. “I know you have been waiting for this moment a long time, but I won’t go without a fight!” her face was serious and her poise was strong. She was ready for a fight. Her seriousness brought fear to me. It validated the fear I had felt earlier when hearing that dark voice. It made the situation more real than I ever thought it could be. Yet, even with all this fear, I still deep down felt skeptical of it all. The sound of the vibrations began to intensify now. It seemed to make the walls shake lightly. I affiliated the cause of the shaking walls with the storm but Vita’s was mind was made up. It was not just a storm shaking the house; it was Stagnoram coming for her. The walls began shaking even more violently now. It caused me to think maybe it was not just the storm, but before I could express the idea further a loud metallic bang was heard a few rooms away, followed by the sound of spraying water. I quickly ran to the source of the sound. Inside the bathroom, Vita’s showerhead had somehow burst. Water was spraying out in every direction. I reached for the faucets to turn the water off but they were not on to begin with. How could this be happening? I began to wonder to myself, completely confused by what was happening. Vita stood outside the doorway avoiding the spray. “the waters not on is it?” Her voice was calm and collected now. I turned to her. “No the water isn’t on,” I responded hesitantly. “Then it’s true… Stagnoram really has found me.” Her voice quivered and shook once again. The words came out almost as a whisper. I myself began to panic as well. These weird turn of events and Vita's state of fear began spreading to me. “Like hell, he’s not.” I tried to say it with confidence. I then grabbed a nearby towel and tied it in a knot over the broken showerhead. Water still leaked but it was much more manageable now. I walked out of the bathroom and closed the door behind me. “For now we avoid this room,” I told her. We walked to the living room and things quickly took a turn for the worst. The front door suddenly burst open. Water quickly began filling the house leaving the kitchen already in an inch of water. “Don't leave the water!” Vita screamed. She grabbed her umbrella tightly and began smashing the glass jars holding the goldfish. “You thought I didn’t plan for this?” she yelled as she smashed more fish bowls. The goldfish landed safely in the water and swam about. The water now filled the entire house almost four inches deep. My shoes up to my ankles were completely underwater. Vita looked at me with fierce intensity in her eyes. “Don’t you dare leave this water without me. I’ll die.” Her tone was something unforgettable. It was something she asked from the bottom of her heart and I felt it. “I won’t leave you,” I told her. I was beginning to feel many things now. Fear, anxiety, and helplessness. I could not rationally explain what was happening but at the same time, I was already coming up with answers in my head to normalize the situation. Once again, mentally I was not prepared to take the responsibility of keeping her truly safe. At that moment, the ceiling began to shake violently. Swaying back and forth almost as if the roof would collapse any moment. It was like the universe had read my mind and felt my fear responding to it. Lightning flashed brightly leaving everything white for a split moment. It had struck the roof. Its deafening ring left me dazed for a moment. The roof now was splitting and beginning to crack. “RUN!” I yelled to Vita, and just as I had the ceiling finally gave way. It came crashing down smashing everything underneath it. I quickly ran out the front door and fell, landing on my hands and knees deep in the water. The impact left me breathless for a moment. The rain was heavy and my entire body was soaked in seconds. I pulled myself up out of the water and quickly began looking around for Vita. I ran to the back yard. I looked around and then up and finally saw her. She stood on the top of the small hill in her backyard. The water was still up to her feet even on the hill. Umbrella drawn and wearing her rain poncho, she looked upwards to the sky, and I could see in the distance, she began to cry. I yelled her name, but the sound of the storm was too loud. Somehow, though she managed to hear me. She turned to me and gave a soft smile. In that moment, it was as if time was standing still. I could see every raindrop falling to the ground in slow motion. I felt like everything was going to be ok. As if it were all just a game and that the next day, we would be looking back at this laughing. That feeling quickly subsided. It all happened so fast but it felt like I watched it for a lifetime. Around Vita’s feet, dark black claws began reaching out of the water. They surrounded her like a mouth about to swallow her whole. It rose higher and higher revealing that the claws belonged not to a mouth but to multiple hands. They were long and skinny with fingers stretched much longer than they should be. Its skin was black and leathery with deep enlarged veins pulsating rhythmically. The hands surrounded Vita and rose still even higher. Some of the hands were reaching almost as high as her now. Still, I could not see what foul body was attached to these limbs. A dark black webbing made of what looked like thin skin began enveloping her feet around her. She looked at me for the last time. Tears in her eyes. I stood there watching her. I felt powerless as complete and utter fear took over my body. I felt paralyzed by what I was witnessing. Something not of this world, and I did not have the courage to withstand it. Vita began to say something, but just as she did, she screamed. In a split second, I watched as the long-clawed hands grabbed at her body. The black webbing quickly wrapped itself around her ankles digging into her skin. The hands, each grabbing hold plunged her into the dark black water beneath her. As quickly as she went into the water. A fountain of deep red color rose from where she once stood. It sprayed her blood all across the yard like a sprinkler in the summer. I was now drenched in her blood and the only thing I could do was scream. I slowly stumbled my way towards the hill and fell to the ground where she was plunged down. I began clawing at the dirt, shoveling it with my hands. I trying to find her, to find Vita. In the end, I kept digging for nothing. She was gone. But I didn't want to accept it. It all happened too fast, and I never fathomed anything like that could have ever existed in the first place. If only I had truly believed her... Years have passed now and everything is very different. I moved away and started a brand new life. One not associated with what happened on the hill. There is one thing that hasn’t ever left me since that day. My fear of being alone in the water. Ever since I have been living the same lifestyle Vita had for her whole life. My faucets have locks on them, and my house always has a goldfish near and ready. Sometimes during storms, I hear the vibrations again. They slowly pull at my windows and knock at my doors. If I am brave enough I will put my ear to the door and listen carefully. Sometimes I can hear it making the strangest sounds. One time I was listening, it even conjured up its voice again. It still chilled me to the bone when I heard it. It only spoke one word, overwhelming me with fear. “*Stagnoram.


Standing at an imposing 5 feet (159 cm), my camp mate hails from a particular kind of human species that I’m not sure science has discovered yet. His patchy beard crowns a beaming smile. A pungent odour seeps from his yellow teeth and clogs the nostrils of anyone unfortunate enough to stand in his way. A few cigarettes away from being a chain-smoker- his presence rarely goes unnoticed; either thanks to his uncontrollable coughing which might (and should) raise doctors’ eyebrows or thanks to an inner gurgling sound which is always followed up by a blob of spit slapping the ground. Yet despite these… *vices*, one might rarely meet a more affable and generous goblin. He converses with everyone, takes an interest in their opinions and never shies away from a pickle- no matter the magnitude. Being a powerhouse of exuberance, if there was ever a “can-do” attitude that self-important managers on LinkedIn dream about- he is the only person in the world who truly embodies it. Throughout the duration of the expedition I learned plenty from and about this peculiar man. He is a sous-chef who allegedly sliced his finger open at work one day, only to stitch it back together using a first-aid kit and copious amounts of what I assume was cocaine. The hospital took care of the rest. To show his devotion to his craft, he tattooed a carrot on his right arm. It wasn’t long into our adventure that I realized he harbours a very short temper which to my genuine delight, is never channeled on anyone else but Jesus Christ and his extended family. “Fuck the Holy Mary!” he barks whenever faced with the mildest inconvenience. Awed remain the people in his surroundings, too dumbfounded to speak but also too afraid to stand in his way. I suspected that he has Tourettes but his friends shook off my well-meaning explanation to this peculiarity, saying that he wasn’t always this way. The day I began to fear this entity arrived only a few days into our expedition. The night had crept quickly- too quickly for my camp mate to remember to shower before the rest of the people in the camp did. This was a fatal oversight. As I unzipped my pants, ready to empty the proverbial snake prior to crawling into my sleeping bag, he erupted. In full force, blasphemies fired from one of the shower stalls in an uncontrollable manner, echoing around the entire campsite if not even further into the forest. “The other motherfucking retards used up all of the bull-fucking water!” he squealed. My piss danced around the toilet seat as I attempted to regain control amidst my tearful laughter. He did not stop. Blasphemies shot out of his mouth like bullets from a mounded gun. The wall banged as he drove his demonic fist into it repeatedly. As my last drops of piss descended into the puddle beneath me, I tried to get myself together- fearful that he’d notice my presence and direct his wrath onto me. I zipped up my pants, rubbed my reddish eyes after laughing uncontrollably for the last few minutes and began sneaking out. “Dog-fucking Christ, what a bunch of greedy pieces of shit…” he bellowed prior to whisking the shower curtain aside, only to find me tip-toeing half way across the room. Our eyes met. Inside his, I saw Satan incarnate- wearing the guise of an ordinary, if boisterous man. Inside mine, he saw a realization that his inner demon had been compromised. Seconds passed unhurriedly. We both erupted in laughter.


The phone sat in the middle of the room. Pat had always had it. It did not have a dial. It did not have numbers. It did not ring. It was just a phone. Pat picked it up. "Today, you will feel happy." Pat sometimes listened for a bit longer in case there was more, but that was all. They put the handset down again. The voice had been stating a fact, thus it must be so. Pat felt happy about this clear and logical thought. And then they started their day. The next morning, Pat picked up the phone. "Today, you will feel sad." This was a disappointment, but Pat figured that it was only fair since yesterday had been happy. They put the phone down, and listened to the sound of rain on the way to work. The next day, Pat picked up the phone. "Today, you will feel sad." Well perhaps they had not been sad enough yesterday, and they needed to make up for it. They put down the phone, and took some time to think about some of the things they had lost over the years. It was only right to do so. "Today, you will feel sad." Pat put down the phone, and wished they could be happy. But the voice had said that today was a sad day, and so it must be. They just needed to find out why. Pat went for a walk, but did not enjoy it. The next day, Pat was not sure about picking up the phone. What if today was another sad day? But, on the other hand, it might be a happy day. Pat picked up the phone. "Today, you will feel powerless." Pat put down the phone, and felt resigned. There was something depressing about hearing such things from a phone. But if not the phone, how else would they know how to feel? It was just the way things were. Pat didn't talk much that day. "Today, you will feel happy." Things were picking up again. Clearly better days were ahead, and the phone knew this. Pat made pancakes, and ate them with fruit and honey. "Today, you will feel sad." Pat tried to eat the leftover pancakes, but they weren't actually very nice. The honey was too sugary and bad for them, and the fruit was starting to turn. In the end, Pat threw the rest of the pancakes away. "Today, you will feel sad." Another sad day. Maybe that was the only way to feel at the moment. There was so much on in the world. Feeling joyful would be inconsiderate. "Today, you will feel sad." Why bother going out, it wasn't really worth it. "Today, you will feel sad." Friends wouldn't really miss them, would be easier. "Today, you will feel sad." "Today, you will feel helpless." "Today, you will feel sad." Pat had once not picked up the phone. They had begun their day without the voice. But... how should they have felt? Scared? Happy? Confused? The phone always knew. Pat was not the right person to decide, they might get it wrong. They had spent the whole day terrified that they were not doing it right. Later, they had picked up the phone, but there was no voice. Had it gone forever? They had not slept that night, afraid of being left alone. In the morning, they had picked up the phone. "Today, you will feel happy." And everything was alright again. Other people probably had their phones. Pat had never asked because that would be rude. People should not be asked why they felt that way. They probably did have a phone. How else would they know how to feel? "Today, you will feel scared." "Today, you will feel alone." "Today, you will feel sad." Pat couldn't talk about the phone. Of course others had one. And what if they didn't? Maybe they would think badly of Pat for listening to the voice. Better not to say anything. The phone knows what is best. "Today, you will feel scared." "Today, you will feel despair." "Today, you will feel hopeless." "Today, you will die.


My father sat there, in his chair, his chair, no one else’s, that’s the way it was; it remained his chair even when he was 6ft to deep to sit in it, in the attic of the house, never given away, never thrown out, and old blanket draped over it – never spoken of. The film played over and over again, I forget which film. We had one of those weird players with a setting that could play a film on a loop, a function no normal person would ever use, designed perhaps for shut-ins, depressives, the elderly, the medicated: both prescription and non-prescription. I don’t know how many times I saw that film, it was just colors and sounds to me, so in reality everything was just waves, that’s the way I’ve been looking at the world recently, it’s all just waves, altering in their minute details: wavelength, amplitude, frequency. The sound waves tingling the hairs in my one year old ear, daring me to make sense of them, the ocular cone and rods, flared up as the colors danced, I could tell there were people, there were places, there were things, but I had nothing to compare them to. Was this man on the screen my father, at that age all adult men are your father, whereas you only have one mother, completely unique, right from the get go that bond seems stronger. My crib had bars taller than me, but of course, if they hadn’t been they would have defeated their own purpose. I peeked through them, eager to learn of the world, looking like a prisoner, but not having any conception of what a prison is. Though I soon would. I watched my father, his chest rising and falling, the cigarette in his fingers, unlit; this would happen occasionally, the intention was there but, as so often in life, the follow-through was not. Sometimes he would make the cigarette dance for me, some of my earliest memories, vivid trees, skies, cars, people, and then suddenly a shooting star darting from my periphery. I reached at it and it would pull back, trailing smoke behind it which turned the vivid memories hazy. His eyes were closed, I did have a concept of sleep, he was asleep, his chest up and down. I parodied it, even at that age having a desire to copy and impress – a lonely artfrom. Dating advice #21: copy your partners posture and mannerisms, this will make you seem compatible. (If she puts her hand in the fire, you know damn well where yours is going). So there I lay, on my back, breathing as hard as I possibly could, but the up-down of my chest, its plotted height resulting in a sin curve, could no where near match the heights reached by my barrel chested father. Years of lifting things and moving things, there was never talk of his actual job title, it was just well known that it required physical excursion. Perhaps his explanation for returning home every night, his breathing pale, his face a rosy red: ‘long day’ those are the only two words I remember him saying.


I had been lost and alone for a year and a half. Depression, abuse, the premature death of a loved one, and job hunting all seemed to hit me like punches in a boxing ring where I wasn't even wearing head gear. The weeks were the loneliest to get through but each Friday and Saturday brought alcohol's warm and gentle embrace rocking me to sleep. Sometimes if I got lucky, I might even find a warm body to fall asleep next to. Unfortunately, most girls left by the time I woke up. Worse still, the ones that stayed were always different from the way I remembered the night before. On the surface I was a well read, 29 year old man in his prime, but behind closed doors I fought hard with my demons and didn't dare ask friends for help. I didn't want them to think of me as weak because I thought of myself as strong. The friend who has been through a lot, who always overcomes obstacles and whatever life throws at him. Yet each Monday morning I woke up more tired. I lost a bit of my fight every Sunday that I regained consciousness. Hungover, lonely, and anxious about the week to come until I was drifting, directionless. More nights alone, feeling increasingly lost, more punches coming from the world, until I lost the last of my will to fight back. It was that day I saw the boy staring back at me in the mirror. He was me, or a version of me. He looked...smaller? Angrier? Or even weaker? Some days he hurled insults, throwing words at all the places he knew would hurt the most. "You'll never make it past the first round of interviews, you're too dumb for this job." Some days he would laugh at my attempts to style my hair, or the 5th shirt I'd tried on getting ready. "It doesn't matter, not like you're going to impress anyone today looking like that." Other days he didn't even look me in the eye, just at the ground dejectedly. "You should just go back to bed, don't bother trying to do anything today. Its all hopeless. It won't ever get better for you." The worst days were when he stared straight at me, wide eyed with hate. The days like this one. "Nobody will ever love us, love you. I don't care how many miles you run or how many books you read. I don't care if you have 6 pack abs, rippling arms, or boulders for shoulders. I don't care how great your job is or how much you get paid. I don't care where you volunteer, or what new hobbies you take up," he sneered with contempt. "I don't care if you discover that there really is a God and a heaven you end up in. I don't care what exotic places you vacation, which city you move to. ***I will always be with you. Because I know. I know that no matter what, it will never be good enough and neither will you."*** Every ounce of intensity of the anger I held back every day screamed, "I HATE YOU!". Still, my anger remained. I stormed out of the bathroom away from that damned mirror, then ripped another mirror off my bedroom door, and I paced back and forth in my room. Within 30 seconds I had changed into running shorts and I ran out the front door. The heavy metal was blaring through my headphones as I ran, trying to hurt the ground by striking my feet into it as fast as I could. By the time I came back down I was finishing an 8 mile loop. I walked inside, tore off my sweat covered shirt, and I laid on the ground. I stared at the white ceiling until exhaustion overtook me. I woke up the next morning on the wooden floor, shivering. I picked myself up and got into a hot shower, sitting down in the tub until the hot water ran out. Afterwards I got into bed and didn't move for the rest of the day. I felt empty and exhausted, yet there was something else there. Something small and intrusive. It reached out to me as if I were hearing a whisper from a great distance or a single breeze in the otherwise still air. I had fought back. It's been 2 years since that day I fought back. I didn't fight back every single day after that. Some days the boy in the mirror won, sometimes he even followed me on my runs. Some days I saw him in my dreams, or in the faces of friends that were having a joke at my expense. I heard him in all the rejections personal and professional. I saw him in each failure. But other days I won. I fought back, ignored him, beat him, or silenced him even if for a few hours. I met a girl, I fell in love, we moved in together. I got a new job I actually liked doing, and they paid me pretty well. I read everything I got my hands on and even published my own novel. I volunteered to pack lunches for the homeless. I ran a full marathon. I traveled to new and exciting places sometimes alone and sometimes in good company. But none of these things made the boy in the mirror go away. One day as I was getting ready I noticed something. The boy in the mirror hadn't opened his mouth in over a week, he just sat there looking weakly at the ground, his knees tucked to his chest. He looked skinner than normal, malnourished. Should I feel victorious right now? He did look like me after all, and he looked so sad. So alone and in need of a purpose? Something to do? A friend? And so I sat down. He still refused to meet my eyes. "I.." "Shut up. Just shut up okay? I don't need your pity. I don't need you or your help or anyone. I never did and I never will, so leave me alone." "Well, you never left me alone so it only seems fair." "..." "You know you've been following me around for years making me feel like shit, and I don't even know your name" "I don't really have *one*." "Everybody has a name, even asshole reflections." "I have a *few*. Some people call me Tim, others Anx, or Furo." "What the hell kind of names are those?*"* "They're Latin, and they're short for stuff. Timor, Anxietatem, Furorem." I rolled my eyes, "In English?" He glared back, "Fear. Anxiety. Anger." "...Why did you say those things anyway?" "Because I hurt. And I wanted you to hurt too. I wanted someone else to feel this." We sat there for a few minutes, neither one saying anything, both looking at the ground until I finally croaked out, “I'm sorry." "You-*what?* Sorry? **Sorry??**" His eyes glowed with hate. His fists balled up. "I'm sorry. I know that its hard. Its not fair, and sometimes it feels so bad that the only way to make the bad feel less is to give some of it to someone else." The hate faded, tears welled in his eyes, and his knuckles relaxed. I continued, "So I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you had to carry that all these years. I'm sorry that it made you tired, and hopeless, and sad. I'm sorry that its easier to be alone by rejecting people before they reject you. I'm sorry that sometimes you even push people away that you want to stay. But most of all I'm sorry that you felt you had to do it alone." The boy in the mirror started to fade. He looked down at his hands, terror in his eyes. More tears started to well in them. "What, no! Wait! Stop it please! Please don't leave me!" He cried as he shimmered and faded away. I looked into the mirror, into my eyes, and said, ***"I won't leave you. I never will and never could. I will carry you and sometimes you will carry me. Because I know. I know that no matter what it could get better. I know that one day it might be good enough, and so will you.