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


I posed this about a year ago on /r/tipofmytongue and didn't get it, so maybe you guys might know anything about it. Details I can remember: Once he gets his mind uploaded onto the android, he witnesses his previous body very much still alive even though the technicians say it isn't. He goes to Mars (I think) and finds someone else there in the same situation. They both spend a while (centuries I think) together before she disconnects her brain after she realized there was no point in life. After that, he spends a few million years traveling the universe. He then sits down, body broken, on a planet and just waits for the end of the universe. At the end of the story humanity has attained group transcendence and came looking for him because they missed him. I read it a couple years ago and it's really stuck with me. I haven't been able to find it anywhere on google, as I just read it on some web page.


A short story about an uncomfortable situation you may encounter as a mind reader. Enjoy. I was just peacefully sitting on my chair in class when it started. I had grown to control my inhumane abilities but it caught me really off guard, so I couldn’t do anything major about it. I was in the middle of an important chemistry exam when I heard a sudden burst of screams bolt through my mind like lightning. It scared the living hell out of me and I almost dropped my pen because of it. My movements were so hectic, that my teacher threw a warning glance my way, which made me smile nervously and curse under my breath. I slowly lowered my head and gained back composure, as the uncomfortably loud screaming continued in my head, slowly draining me of my needed concentration. Whoever that person was, I really hated them right now. I tried focusing back on the piece of paper in front of me, emphasis on ‚tried‘. Spoiler alert, it didn’t really work. At all. The remaining thirty minutes were terrible. The human who thought screaming internally out of pure panic would give them answers to their fucking chem test kept going, reminding me of some nerve-nagging siren, alarming everybody around them of their, oh, so unlucky misfortune. When the bell rang, I heard the person thinking ‚Thank my mom that this is over‘ and I looked around with a snarl adorning my face, an almost permanent migraine now numbing my brain. The students were slowly leaving the classroom, but I was only starting to put my stuff in the backpack I brought. After I heard the persons laughable thought, I scoffed lightly. „I don’t think your mom has anything to do with this“, unintentionally slipped out of my mouth before I could properly process the idea of saying that sentence out loud. I saw somebody stop dead in their tracks out of my peripheral vision. Oh shit, I didn’t mean to do that. “W-what?”, the person stuttered and I stood up from my chair with an exhausted sigh. “You heard me, buddy”, I replied slyly, looking down at the shorter boy with bright red locks who, what I knew of, sat two rows behind me. Huh, apparently he was the screaming, panicking source I had heard. I didn’t bother to look before, I was trying to keep my sanity from leaving my body. “But... I didn’t say anything?”. His sentence sounded more like a question than a statement, as I combed my hand through my hair in a stressed manner while rolling my eyes with minor annoyance. Nevertheless, I couldn’t help but to hold back a singular laugh. “ ‘Say’ is a very interesting way to put it.” My response was petty and unnecessary, but I just couldn’t help it. I was done with everything. Suddenly, I heard another thought. ‘I’ve never seen this hair color before, it’s gorgeous’. Well, I didn’t expect that. This time I couldn’t hold back and let a few coughing laughters escape my throat, as I watched the boys face change from irritated to embarrassed to interested. How entertaining. “Thank you, it’s natural.” I said over-dramatically, flipping my hair and adding a sloppy wink, just to be a bit more extra. The boys eyes went wide after his mind has seemed to realize the words I had just said. “You can- hear- what- how...?”. He sounded so confused and I swear to you that it was the most amusing shit in that moment. “You got it, chief. Listen, the next time you panic, could you maybe reconsider screaming like a dying mammal for half an hour straight? You would do me AND my head a big favor. Thanks!”. Those were my last words, before I quickly stuffed all of my belongings in my bag and scurried out of the room with a last hectic, wannabe polite, wave. The last thing I heard was him yelling “What the fuck?” in a tone I will never forget. I laughed uncontrollably, temporarily forgetting the regret I sensed as an end result of this interaction.


“Ahhhh yes. Now where do we begin with Lucy?... The first thing everyone notices about her is her hair. It shines golden. Bleach blonde actually... Just like her personality. During those winter months – you know, when it’s dark when you arrive at the office and when it’s dark when you leave - well she’s a shining light… And why not? Who doesn’t need a bit of cheering up at 6:40am on a Tuesday morning? It certainly wasn’t the tea that had me coming back… I could even say, at times it tasted like fresh horse piss! No… It was something most people don’t understand anymore, a certain class, a connection, a candour. She played the role of host perfectly, a smooth blend of frankness, service and… and respect. In years gone by she would have run an establishment for the local gentry, or nobles – or something. As it was, she was a waitress at a greasy spoon just off the A34. But she played the role marvellously… Just marvellously… After a while, we got to know each other quite well. She would always joke about what a lucky woman Mrs. Dowd was… I would joke about how one of these days I was going to leave Mary and run off with her… Yes, a very pleasant woman. Well then, you can understand my surprise when one morning, while in the toilets just before work, I heard two of the regulars chatting. A gruff voice let slip a secret. It turns out our Amy was making a little money on the side. Working discreetly shall we say. I mean, she can’t have been making much as a waitress… But what shocked me was the nature of it you see - she was a dominatrix! Imagine that! I can see why though, she understood roles very well. A good actress.... Psychologically gifted… As a gentleman I never made a peep about it, but you can be damn sure that I watched her a more closely after that! People are like that…. They lead you one way… Then they take you another… The next big surprise came a few days later. She was distracted behind the till one morning. Reading a book or something... I only noticed because we’d normally be having a chat at this point, but instead my only company was the breakfast news on the radio. So, interest piqued, I made my way over to her. Without making a sound, I leant over the till to have a look. Well, I’d never seen her move so quickly in all these years! Like a rat up a drain pipe that book was out of sight! She managed the situation well, as though nothing had happened, and the conversation ran smoothly before I headed out to work. But something changed. From that day on… A look… A feeling… Yes, some sort of distance had grown between us. She was watching me and I was watching her. Of course, it’s only natural for a man to feel a certain… frisson, in such a situation. But you must understand, as a married man… No, it was a purely intellectual curiosity. So, there I was, Mr. Nosey Parker, like a basset hound sniffing for blood. It was quite innocuous at first, just a peek into her car at the car park, through the passenger window. Well, let me tell you, there was… there was… well there was a lewd instrument! Just there, laying on the seat! I tell you, I almost had a heart attack! Oooh she wanted to get caught, I can tell you that. She knew I was sniffing around, and she wanted to get caught. She was leaving me tracks… What’s a man to do in such a situation? There we were circling one another like… like a whirpool, it was only a matter of time before we… plunged down into the sinkhole, as it were. Anyway, like a fool, I decided to take the initiative. I took the day off work. I went into the café as normal, suit and all, of course. So as not raise any suspicion you see. Then I parked my car around the corner, just off the T-junction, and waited. What was I thinking! Well, there it is, that’s what I did. So, I waited until… it must have been just before midday. Out pulls her little coral red Fiat 500 and starts off down the road. I followed just behind. It was rather exciting, but there I was cool as a cucumber, hanging back a car or two. I almost lost her when she turned off just after Stafford! But the hunt was on! Twisting and turning we meandered through some country roads. It was all becoming rather personal, what with the single lane and the hedge rows obscuring everything else. Tunnel vision. Just me and the back of her car. Just me staring at her… behind. Well eventually, she turned off down a dirt track towards the most derelict looking barn you have ever seen. Luckily, I saw a layby on the other side through a gap in the hedge row. What a find! But then I’ve always had the best luck. Without giving away the plot I drove on and parked up at the layby. To cut a long story short, I crept round to the front. The heavy front hung loosely from the top hinge, just, ever so slightly… squealing in the wind. My heart was racing and my blood pumping! What if… what if I saw… Well I skulked through… into the darkness… There were no lights in there, you see, just slats missing in the roof, through which great… shafts of sunlight thrusted into the dusty dinge. Blinking, my eyes adjusted to the gloom, when, there in front of my eyes, I saw… I saw a dungeon. A scaffolding of straps and chains and what not. I couldn’t quite take it all in! Then just as suddenly… darkness. When I came to, I was hanging. I was groggy… Strapped up by my arms and legs, just like this… I remember the drool running down my chin like syrup. I was gagged… Then, from the shadows she emerged… Mistress Lucy…She… She was… I had never seen her like that before… In a tight leather corset, with… And so imperious, such an… She looked at me like she owned me! ‘Hello Piggy’ She says! Her! To me! Well I was shocked, as you can imagine, but there was more, there was… a fire, do you understand? I tried shout, to call out for help, but it came out as a muffled whimper. ‘You’ve been a bad little Piggy haven’t you, following me around in the shadows.’ I struggled… I kicked out, I tried to break free… I did… ‘Mistress isn’t happy.’ I noticed the garden shears in her hands, and I tried… I really tried to break free in a twitching frenzy… ‘Mistress isn’t happy and you are going to make it up to her.’ My screams just came out as a bubbly moan. ‘She’s going to train you, she’s going to turn you into a good Piggy slave or…’ The shears clapped twice like snapping of a hungry crocodile. ‘Mistress wants you to kill Mrs. Dowd and serve Mistress from now on…’ Oh how I screamed... “ The feverish glimmer of his eyes was the only light shining from the abyssal black of the gimp mask. He had been declaiming in this manner for some time now, his zipped-up mouth muffling the monologue. Mark was pouring with sweat. He couldn’t help but notice the pair of garden shears in the gimps hand. “So you see,” whined the gimp. “Everyone learns to serve her, but in the beginning, we just need a little help.


April 28th, 2015 Jack hated coming here. The chairs were too stuffed and too high off of the ground to support himself with your feet, so he was constantly struggling not to fall off. It smelled like Pinesol and old people. The air conditioning blew from a vent in the ceiling a few degrees too cold and a few decibels too loud. Jack was sure he could hear the fan rattling almost imperceptibly. The fact that he couldn’t tell if it was actually rattling or all in his head made it all the more annoying. But mostly, Jack hated living. “Good morning, Jack!” the too-chipper psychiatrist greeted him as he finally opened the door and strode through. Jack had no idea what time it actually was, but he was fairly confident that it hadn’t been morning for quite some time. It felt like he had been waiting for hours. Come to think of it, he couldn’t even remember the exact time he entered the room. There was no clock on the wall. Jack glanced briefly down at his watch, but the hands stood still. He mentally swore at himself for not even noticing that it had died. “Morning,” Jack mumbled half-heartedly. He didn’t have the mental energy to debate the proper term for whatever time of day it was. “And how are we feeling today?” the psychiatrist inquired. “Any improvement?” “Honestly, doc, I still feel like shit,” Jack replied, “Those pills you gave me haven’t done anything, or not anything positive anyways. Sure I don’t cry anymore, but I don’t get happy either. I’m just numb all the time. I thought you said those pills were supposed to make me feel better?” The doctor peered at Jack intently before scribbling something illegibly on his notepad. “Those pills were for getting rid of the suicidal ideations,” he said gently yet rather abruptly. “They won’t make you happy. You have to do that for yourself by resolving your own issues. I’m more than just a prescription pad, Jack. I’m here to help you work through what’s troubling you.” Jack knew exactly what was troubling him, but he’d be damned if he’d ever tell it to this quack. He just wanted to get the pills that would let him move on with his life, and mostly he just wanted to forget. But, he supposed, he would probably have to oblige the doctor at least a little bit, if he wanted any chance at getting the stronger medication. He sighed a sigh of feigned resignation. “Well what am I supposed to say?” he asked, hoping to prompt the doctor into asking an easy question. No such luck. The doctor didn’t miss a beat, cutting straight to the chase. “We still haven’t talked about what happened overseas.” Jack winced. This guy was obviously sick of beating around the bush. Maybe he was getting just as sick of this back and forth as Jack was. It wouldn’t be surprising. After all, he was only human too. “I don’t see how that’d help,” Jack replied defensively, “It’s over. I’m back here now. You obviously deal with people like me every day. I’m not some special fucking case for you to crack. Just write me a prescription for whatever you write the other guys. Some shit to make me sleep, some shit to make me happy, and some shit to make me forget.” He knew that he shouldn’t have lost his cool by the rapid scribbling going onto the doctor’s notepad. He cursed himself again. The fucking shrink would have a field day psychoanalyzing every little tidbit of that outburst on his tape recorder later. Still, he was hopeful that maybe the outburst would at least convince the doctor that he really did need some better pills. This time, he actually found himself in luck, as the doctor sat his notepad down and leaned back in his chair. “I think maybe you’re misunderstanding me, Jack,” the doctor said in a tone too overly nice to be genuine but not quite overly nice enough to be patronizing. “I’m not going to try to get you to talk about anything you’re not ready for. We’re going to take this at your pace, and I want you to be comfortable.” Jack’s excitement rose as he saw the doctor reach for his prescription pad. Finally, he thought. The doctor scrawled a drug that Jack wouldn’t have been able to pronounce even if he had been able to read the handwriting, and signed it with a flourish. “I want you to come back and see me in two weeks,” the doctor admonished him, “These pills should help you stay calm. We’ll reassess and hopefully talk more then.” Jack muttered a half-hearted thank you, snatched the paper, and walked out of the door as fast as he could without seeming like a total jackoff. *** Two weeks later, he found himself in the same office. The past two weeks had been a blur. He knew he had experienced the passing of time, but would be hard-pressed to pin down any specific memories from that time period, at least of his waking hours. His nightmares, he remembered well: The sand, the cracks of machine gun fire and the even louder cracks of shattering bone. The screams haunted him, and he always screamed along as he awoke. Except he didn’t remember waking up from them these past two weeks. Obviously he had woken up, because now he was sitting here, but he couldn’t remember waking up any more than he could remember falling asleep. It must have been these new pills. The office was even more annoying today. Whoever was in charge of cleaning clearly wasn’t responsible for the cleaning supplies budget, because they had gotten even more generous with that goddamned Pinesol. The fan had stopped rattling, but now there was this odd clicking sound coming from somewhere that he couldn’t place. His ears were ringing too, but that wasn’t a by-product of the room. The hinge clearly wanted for lubrication as the door creaked open at a frequency perfectly out of key with the ringing in his ears to make him cringe. “Hi there Jack,” the doctor greeted him, “Good to see you”. It sounded like he really meant it. Jack shifted his weight uncomfortably in his chair. Something was unsettling about the doctor today, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Something in his face made Jack’s skin crawl, but he had no idea why. He again mentally blamed the new pills. He definitely needed to get off those and onto something better. “Good morning,” Jack said, feeling anxious to actually get down to business today, “Those pills you gave me two weeks ago… Something isn’t right with them. They’re fucking with my head. I can barely remember anything about the last two weeks.” “Hmm, let me take a look,” the doctor replied as he diligently took down his notes, “Some short-term memory loss and confusion is a rare side effect of this drug, but it looks like it must have affected you this way. Bad news, that’s the only drug on the market right now that’ll work for what we’re trying to do. Good news, there’s another drug that should counteract those side effects.” That didn’t sound right to Jack, but the fog in his mind left him unable to reason why. He merely nodded his acquiescence, and the doctor started scribbling on his prescription pad again. “While you’re here though, I think you’re going to tell me a little bit about your time overseas,” the doctor stated authoritatively. Jack surprised himself by agreeing, not just verbally, but mentally as well. Maybe it was time he finally got some of it off of his chest. He took a deep breath. “What do you want to know?” he asked wearily. “Tell me about what got you sent back here.” Jack’s temper flared at that one. He couldn’t control it anymore; it often got the best of him. “I’m pretty goddamn sure you know what fucking happened,” he snapped, “I got blown the fuck up, or my convoy did at least. I’m lucky to be alive, or so they told me. It’s not fucking lucky to be the only one alive when all your friends are in pieces in the desert somewhere.” “Jack, you’re experiencing survivor’s guilt,” the doctor said comfortingly, “It’s a natural response when we go through something that we think we didn’t deserve to survive.” “I’m don’t feel guilty for what happened to my squad,” Jack shot back, “I’m just fucked up”. At that, he resolved not to say anything else, even if solely to piss the doctor off. It was about time he returned the favor; this shrink had been pissing him off since day one. But the doctor seemed unfazed, merely making a single-sentence reply before tearing off the prescription and handing it to Jack. “I think you are.” *** Jack was back for his next visit even sooner than scheduled. He hoped the doctor would have time to see him today, even those the annoying receptionist had told him that it wasn’t guaranteed. He didn’t care. He had to be seen today. The nightmares had gotten worse. It wasn’t just the flashbacks anymore. It was new. He would find himself in the middle of the desert in the middle of the night, with only a tiny sliver of a crescent moon for illumination. The stars were strangely absent. As he walked in a direction he hoped would lead to water, he could hear steps behind him, but every time he whirled around to face whatever was following him, they would fall silent. His eyes couldn’t make out anything behind him, but he knew there was something. Then it happened: A shriek, and a creature bounding towards him like a lion. Jack hauled ass, or at least attempted to, but all of his equipment weighed him down. He doubted that he could’ve outran the thing even had he been completely naked though. He would feel the weight of it slam into him before he felt the claws. It was moving so fast that it knocked wind right out of him, and he lied sprawled out on his back, gasping for breath and instinctually flailing his hands to protect his throat from a bite that never came. Sand was in his eyes and he could barely see, but through his blurred vision he could barely make out the face of a familiar girl with blue eyes and a light-brown complexion, no older than sixteen, on the body of a lion. She looked terrified at first, then sad. Then she opened her mouth with a scream, revealing vicious fangs, and lunged at his face. Jack woke up screaming every time. Jack started in his seat as the door slammed open. Apparently the hinges had gotten the grease that they so badly needed. The shrink entered purposefully, taking a seat directly opposite Jack, facing him with an uncomfortable amount of eye contact. “Jack, I’m surprised to see you here,” he said, “Our appointment wasn’t for another three weeks. What’s going on?” “It’s the pills,” Jack said, “They’re making things even worse than before. The nightmares are out of control, and they’re not helping my side effects at all. In fact, they’re making them worse. All I can remember for the past week are the nightmares. I can’t take it anymore, doc. I can’t live like this. You have to fix me.” “That’s not possible,” the doctor replied curtly, “Nightmares are not a side effect of any of these pills. Those are from your guilt, not from any pills that I’ve given you. We have to talk about your guilt first.” Jack had had it with this shit. Of course he felt guilty. He felt guilty for all the fucked up shit he had to see and do over there. He felt guilty for every round that left the barrel of his rifle. But not for the goddamned IED that blew up his friends. He hadn’t set it, and he hadn’t driven over it. It wasn’t his fault. “I told you, I don’t have ‘survivor’s guilt’,” Jack spat. Calmly, the shrink put down his pen and notepad. “That wasn’t the guilt I was referring to,” he said in an even voice, “I was referring to Adra.” At the mention of that name, fear and adrenaline coursed through Jack’s veins. He thought he might have a flashback right there in the office, but he somehow stayed rooted to reality, and even managed to keep what he thought was an impassive blank face. The shrink, however, was having none of it. “Don’t bullshit me, Jack,” the normally professional doctor said, sudden venom in his words, “I know what happened that night. I know what you did.” Jack’s fight or flight response was firing on all cylinders. He didn’t know how, but this doctor knew his darkest secret, a secret that not even his exploded friends had ever known. Adra’s name burned his neurons to even think about, and here he was, being forced to think about her by this goddamned shrink. That bastard. Who the fuck did he think he was? And how the hell did he know Adra’s name? Jack looked fearfully right into the doctor’s eyes. The doctor met his stare, not blinking even once. For a moment Jack thought he saw something behind the eyes, something that terrified him to his core, and this time he didn’t write it off as simply a side effect of the medication. In that moment, Jack understood. Without a word, the doctor wrote a prescription for another drug, tore it off, and handed it to Jack, still unblinking. Jack numbly accepted it, knowing that it was unlikely to make anything better. He knew nothing would ever get better, not for him. The nightmares would continue, and he’d be back here again; he was sure of it. Things were only going to get worse, and he knew he deserved every minute of it. As he stood to leave, he had one flash of a thought, unburdened by the drugs. War is hell alright.


I live alone, I've lived alone for many years. Most of my family has passed away, and when they was alive I was the black sheep in my family. I was the outsider in school, always being tormented about my fuzzy hair, my yellow teeth,my ''poor'' clothes. I got use to it. I've gotten use to people being horrible to me. Just like I've gotten use to being alone. The rain on my roof keeps me sane, I relate to the rain with how it grows slowly and steady and becomes heavier, how it pours and sounds angry, the way the sounds knock on my roof and home don't scare me anymore. I use to be so scared of the rain and thunder. But I now relate because like the rain I use to be sad and pour and pour tears, and like thunder I use to howl of anger and want to knock on people's roofs and keep them awake, like they made me. I relate to the sun with how bright and hot it feels, at times I've been happy in my life, that at times I wanted to be bright and smother other's with my heat of happiness like the sun. And the moon is a peaceful reminder, that a new day awaits me, and I don't feel so lonely anymore because I found comfort in the weather. Even when a tornado and hurricane hit my side of the world, I don't feel sadness anymore because, like tornado and hurricanes I too have wanted to be one and destroy things. I relate to nature in many ways. My cat Lonnie, understands me better than most and curls up to me at night after a long day at the restaurant, and having people curse and throw their food at me. Lonnie is a reminder that animals are sometimes better than us humans. But I also have some human friends, their names are Daniel, Molly, and Billy, they bring me comfort, they come over often... we have tea and sometimes eat shitty frozen pizza and gossip. Daniel likes green tea and often tells me how pretty I am and gives me hugs.. he's a nice guy. I'd love to be with him but I think he kind of likes someone else more. Molly is the prettiest and nicest girl I've met, she and I do each other's makeup, we chit chat about guys her favorite food is cookies and we often make them together. And then there's Billy he's the group's comedian, he's always making me laugh after a long work at the restaurant. He's a cutie and loves pizza. We normally hang out after I get home from work, their waiting usually at my house. They comfort me and tell me to keep hanging on, even when I've become so depressed. Besides Lonnie their my best friends.. but I don't tell anyone about them because I'm afraid other people would take them away from me, and be their best friends... I don't wanna lose my best friends. ''Mrs. Love I'm afraid you have schizophrenia, I'm gonna refer you to a specialist.'' The doctor spoke. ''But doc, please don't take away my friends , I swear there is no voices in my head.. they're the only people I've ever loved, you're the crazy one. *I'm afraid to live without my ''friends'' doctor...


. Silence invades the ancient forest, who is fresh in transition into winter. Fallen leaves have been crushed into the ground and snow begins to dot the landscape. The cold begins to bite at the flesh of the beasts that inhabit the elder ground. A herd of elk lie in a clearing, gifted with the bliss of ignorance, the reward of naivete. They graze upon what little grass is left with glee, oblivious to the danger that hides within the forest walls. A pack of wolves hide within the barren trees and evergreens, stalking the great herd. Unlike the fat bellies of the elk, the stomachs of the wolves remain empty and ready to feast. Unnoticed they step towards the elk, who are blinded with a false sense of security. *Step*. *Step*. *Step*. For days the pack has been hunting with no reward for their efforts. They starve, yet they push on with a thin hope of catching some food. Now, lo and behold, a plentiful bounty of meat awaits them. The wolves are desperate with their stomachs mimicking their growls, and their tongues wet with flavorful spit. But these wolves are nothing if not patient. They know their plan; they’ve done it a thousand times through the memory that lies within their blood. They creep on. *Step*. *Step*. *Step*. The aroma of the elk grows strong, invading the senses of the malnourished wolves. One of the younger, excited ones carelessly steps upon a patch of dry leaves. A loud crunch is heard around the clearing, and is echoed by the forest’s strange voice. The once carefree elk shoot their heads into the sky looking frantically in all directions. The pack sinks further back into the woods just in time. Their prey sees nothing, and go back to grazing more alert than before. The Alpha male looks over at one of his young sons with anger, but now is not the time for punishment so they creep on. *Step. Step. Step.* Once they have regained their position, they scan the entirety of the herd for potential targets. The wolves spot one who is elderly and moves slower than the others. Oh, but there is not enough meat on him to feed them all. Then they spot a group of calves big enough to feed the lot of them. Oh, but they are all protected by the whole herd, it will not be possible to take on the entire herd for one meal. Continuing to scan across the lot, they spot one great, big, mountain of a bull with antlers like branches of a mighty oak. The scars on his face say that he is experienced and ready for combat. Would it be worth it to take down this beast? Well fortune favors the bold, but so does death. They decide on their target, and continue on. *Step. Step. Step.* When they arrive at their vantage point, they stand still, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Their heart beats pound in their bodies, and anxiety is at a high. If they fail here, the fate of the pack is sealed. They wait for the herd to calm down, and when that same obliviousness from before is reached, the pack with power of lightning and twice the swiftness charge at the herd, barking and chomping their teeth. In a panic, the elk burst out with the wolves giving chase. That big bull is in the back running at full speed. Three wolves go between him and his herd, while the rest of the pack follow the bull at his heels. The herd separates themselves from the bull, and once he realizes what the wolves have done, he plants his hooves into the ground and swings his head with the might of an avalanche. *Woosh*. He barely misses the pack with his antlers. The bull stares at them to see whose will will break first, for this was not the first time he had met a pack like this, and would make sure that it would not be the last. However, he greatly underestimated the hunger that pilots these wolves minds. One of them tries to go behind the bull in some vain attempt at glory, and when he makes his move the bull predicts it and swings his head at the adolescent glory seeker. *Boom*. The antlers collide with young wolf, and goes flying behind the elk, unable to get up. He whimpers in pain, but the pack cannot give up their position, they can’t afford to quit even if it is for one of their own. Confidence fills the bulls head as he swings it around to assert to the wolves who is in charge here, when suddenly a sharp pain enters the back leg of the elk; he had forgotten about the other three wolves. As soon as the jaws around his leg let go, he gives a swift kick, only grazing a few hairs off the wolf, and runs off with the pack close behind. The bull is in panic having completely lost his herd, but he runs with a thin hope that he will escape. The pack is close behind, gnashing at his haunches. Pain seizes his mind, but all he can do is run. He grows weak with every stride, he begins to slow down, is there any hope here? He collapses to the ground, and looks to the sky with desperate eyes for something, anything to save him. Before the mighty bull can admit defeat, the alpha closes his jaws around the bull’s throat. He is gone. The ravenous wolves begin to tear him apart, ripping his tender flesh with the satisfaction of finally having landed a kill. In fact, they are so enthralled by this that they forgot about their fallen brother who lies dead on the ground. And so, with full bellies they leave the carcass with nothing for the crows to feast on. Silence invades the ancient forest.


Someone tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me?” Josh turned to see a stubby little man smiling at him. “Aren’t you the guy from that movie?” There are few things more tiresome than standing in line for coffee but signing napkins for ‘fans’ who don’t even know his name is definitely one of them. The line moved forward several inches as one more person succeeded in placing their order.  “Excuse me?” *God dammit.* Josh prepared to put a smile on before turning again. “Is that your car?” He spun and looked out at the carpark. “Does it normally smoke like that? I wouldn’t know,” The little man shrugged. “I’ve never owned a Tesla.” Abandoning his place in the line (but to the joy of those queuing behind him), Josh ran outside. “Oh god!” he exclaimed. “What the hell happened?” Thick black smoke was rising from under the bonnet and curling up into the sky. Even stood a few feet in front of it, he could feel the heat on his face. Josh whipped out his phone and began to dial 911. But just two digits in, the phone began vibrating in his hand. He answered. “Hello?” “Josh - it’s Mallory the production assistant. Make-up just called. You haven’t arrived yet. Where are you?” *Shit.* He’d been out last night and woke up late. “I’m on my way. I promise.” He began. “Just car trouble.” The production assistant sighed. “You’re due on set in half an hour. Hurry up.” She hung up.  The door to the store banged open as the stubby man barrelled out. “The manager’s called the fire service. They’ll be here soon.” Josh pocketed his phone and stared in disbelief as the first visible flames licked the windscreen - the paint had begun to peel. “What a mess,” the man began, “Looks new too!” “One week…” Josh mourned: he was rich, but not new-car-every-week rich. “Isn’t there some way we can put it out?” he wondered aloud. The man beside him raised his arm, leaned back, then emphatically tossed his coffee onto the bonnet of the burning vehicle.  Josh’s pocket began vibrating again: he answered. It was George, the director, and he was *not* happy. “When I agreed to cast you in this film,” he lectured, “there was an understanding that you would put the part-boy lifestyle on hold. People are depending on you. We cannot have any more delays to the shooting schedule. Please tell me you’re in make-up now?” “No, I’m not in make-up,” Josh put his head in his free hand. “I stopped for coffee and now my car is on fire.” There was a brief pause. “What?” the director replied. “My car. It’s on fire. I can’t get to set yet – but I’ll be there soon - I promise!” George scoffed. “Yeah, right. I guess that video of you doing shots with Taylor Swift at ONE O’CLOCK THIS MORNING has nothing to do with it? Get to set now you lazy fuckin’ asshole. In fifteen minutes, we shoot.” He hung up.  Josh paced the sidewalk then glanced up at the inferno in front of him. “Come here,” he told the stubby man, who quickly sidled over. “I need a photo.” He held his phone out. “With me?” the man grinned incredulously. “No.” Josh resisted the urged to push the man backward into the flames. “Of me - with the car.” The little man held the camera up while Josh positioned himself in front of the burning wreckage. His nostrils filled with the scent of pumpkin-spice and burnt rubber. *This will make that stuck-up moron eat his words.*  His agent was calling. Was this necessary? He was only a little late now! Christ. Josh answered the call. “I’m coming! But my car’s on fire, or didn’t you see?” he started. “Oh, I saw!” His agent’s clearly-exasperated voice retorted. “And so did the marketing team at Tesla. They’ve pulled your endorsements and you’re being photoshopped out of the ads you just shot.” “But!” Josh tried to interrupt. “Expect a deformation lawsuit in the next 48 hours. Ang good luck finding a new agent. I can’t do this again.” She hung up. “Ahh!” Josh yelled into the sky. “Has everybody lost their minds?!” As if in answer, his phone rang again.  *Probably trying to get his butler to come pick him up* the stubby man thought as he lamented the futile loss of his latte. Josh put the phone down and crumpled down onto the pavement; his sweaty, shiny face lit by the flames. Tears appeared up in his eyes. The stubby man wandered over.  “I’ve been fired.” Josh sighed. “Ha!” The stubby man giggled as he raised his finger and pointed at the burning wreckage.


I met Addison in German 102. He came in late, so he sat down in the seat closest to the door, which just so happened to be the seat right next to mine. I didn’t notice him at first until our professor gave us an exercise to complete and told us to work with a partner. That’s when I turned to my right and there he was. I remember my eyes growing wide and my blood pressure dropping. I know people talk about attractive people all the time and their reactions to them sound hyperbolic, but I swear on God this guy unbelievably attractive. His style was effortless, wearing a simple white V-neck and blue jeans and keeping his beard neatly trimmed. I turned pink when I realized I had been staring at his deep blue eyes for an obscenely long time and I saw him smirk as I darted my eyes away. I tried to convince myself that he didn't notice. For the months that followed I would become extremely anxious to get to my German class. I’d even get there early sometimes in hopes of spending just a little more time with him. I knew deep down I was being naive, but I didn’t care. My heart was fluttering and I was falling deeper and deeper and he had no idea. Eventually I became his go-to partner and occasionally we’d finish early and get to know each other a bit, which was the highlight of my day. He told me about his older brother, who coincidentally was also his best friend. He told me about his current two year relationship with his girlfriend who was from a small town in Germany, which was why he was learning German. We talked about music sometimes and he introduced me to Tame Impala. Eventually, I summoned up enough courage to ask him for his number under the pretense of “in case I have any homework questions.” I knew he had a girlfriend, so nothing could ever come of it, but even being his friend sounded wonderful. When you meet special people like that, you take what you can get. Sometimes we’d leave German class and walk to our next class together which had the same route. It was all so innocent and felt like it was straight out of a fairy tale. Once the semester was over, I was sure I’d never see him again. I mean, why would I? It was his last German class and let’s face it, why would he want to hang out with me? But I was insistent and dismissed those pessimistic thoughts. Once—with the encouragement of my best friend—I texted him inviting him to go to a German event that occurred weekly. I think if my best friend had never pushed me to do it, I probably would have never seen him again. So to her, I am eternally grateful. I figured I would invite him to it because there was going to be a lot of people around and I could play off my feelings for him. He ended up going. Female eyes followed him as he walked in and hugged me. I could feel their jealous stabs on my back wishing they were me in that moment. I was living. We mingled, we laughed, we drank and we enjoyed each other’s company. I learned about his recent breakup with his girlfriend and I made sure to let him know I was available if he ever wanted to talk. This is the part where things kind of get fuzzy because I don’t quite remember when it was that we started hanging out so frequently, but it’s like my memory ends after that moment and jumps towards the summer. So, I apologize for my incompetent long-term memory. Summer came around and I was going over to his place almost every day. We would watch movies, drink wine or talk for hours. Never in my life have I ever been able to talk to someone for so long, about so many things and be so happy to do so. Addison just had this way about him that made me feel like I was home. I spent so many nights curled up on one of the corners of his couch while he sat on the other. Sometimes he’d grab my feet and very delicately massage them. We’d talk for hours on end about all the things I was always too hesitant to talk about with anyone else. It’s really quite something when you find someone who you can have such meaningful conversations without much of an effort. I was never completely myself as I was when I was with him. Addison treated me well and complimented me frequently. A part of me would gush every time , but I wasn’t a fool, I reminded myself not to get too carried away. I tried really hard to stay realistic, but the fairy tale caught up to me and I eventually gave in. I believed him when he called me beautiful. I believed him when he said he had never met anyone like me and he was so happy I had come into his life. Addison was such a rare individual and I was ecstatic and honored to have even an ounce of his time. So, when he’d stop mid-sentence to tell me how beautiful I was, my lungs would collapse. I remember a time when he asked me to meet him in the parking lot outside of the architecture building on campus. This didn’t strike me as unusual since sometimes we’d park our cars there and walk around campus together, but what did strike me as unusual was when he started walking *towards* the architecture building. I asked him where he was going and he asked me in a calm, but playful voice to “just play along.” We got to the doors and took the stairs up to the top floor. Once we reached it, I asked him again what we were doing there since I knew that there were only classrooms on this floor. He put a finger to his rosy lips and grabbed my hand. I followed him through a passageway that I had never noticed before and in seconds we were standing in front of a fancy conference room. I looked at him inquisitive, but he avoided my stare. I watched him jump over a fence behind the conference room and then climb up metal stairs. I stood frozen because this really felt like we were trespassing and I was afraid that we would get caught. He motioned me over and whispered to trust him. Reluctantly, I followed and climbed the stairs, too. We were on the rooftop of the architecture building. There was so much space up there that it made me almost want to dance around like you would in a meadow of peonies. I peered over the edge and could see the white and red lights from oncoming traffic and the first sightings of the night sky. I turned over to see if he was enjoying himself as much as I was, but he was rummaging through his backpack. A smile drew over his face as he pulled out a bottle of our favorite red wine and looked at me. Then his brows furrowed as he realized that he had forgotten to bring glasses. I saw this, laughed and reassured him that there were worse problems than not having glasses and I took a swig from the bottle. He asked me to sit next to him while we drank liquid courage straight from the source. I wish I could remember what we talked about up there, but all I can remember was the wave of calmness I felt sitting next to him on the rooftop and drinking wine under the night sky. At some point he asked me for my hand and led me onto the dance floor. We danced quite silly at first making light of the situation because we were both secretly afraid of the intimate moment that was unveiling before us. But, eventually we gave into the moment and we danced slowly in each other’s arms. I looked up at him and he never looked more handsome than in that moment when the moonlight was shining so carefully on his face. The thought of me touching his body would cross my mind often. But, I never could imagine us going through with it because it was such a ludicrous idea. Little did I know that he had had those same thoughts cross his mind, too. And I remember that night vividly. I remember driving up to his place and him answering the door with a smile on his face. I sighed deeply and walked in and sat on the couch while he ran back into the kitchen to pour us some wine. Pink Floyd’s *The Dark Side of the Moon* was playing on his stereo and he asked me about my day. The night went on as it usually did with us drinking a little too much bitter grape juice and sharing a little too many secrets. But that night when I was in the middle of a sentence he leaned over without warning to kiss my lips. The kiss was brief because he pulled back to apologize for his lapse in manners. Words failed me in that instance because I could still feel how soft his lips were and how good they tasted on mine. His deep blue eyes met mine trying to distinguish whether the kiss was a mistake or not and when he saw my approving eyes, he leaned over again, only this time slowly. He lingered a few inches from my face and I could feel his breath. I couldn’t stand it any longer and met him the rest of the way. It was pure ecstasy. Suddenly I was twirling in a moving room, my skin glimmering as I soaked in sunlight beams. I fell into a rabbit hole, deeper and deeper until I couldn’t see the ground anymore, but I could breathe. God, I could *breathe.* Our chests fell and rose in unison and our hands wandered over each other’s skin. The bottled up feelings we both had for each other completely shattered and there was no turning back. Our breaths were getting heavier and he picked me up and took me to his bedroom. I read his skin like braille until my eyes closed and he held me in his arms. I woke up the next morning and turned to look at him sleeping soundly. If I ever have a near death experience, Addison sleeping is what’s going to flash before my eyes. A few days later he asked me to come over again. He didn’t smile when he opened the door this time and instead, he motioned for me to sit down on the couch. It had only been a few days since we had last seen each other, but the way he carried himself felt rigid and cold. He opened his mouth to speak and said he just found out he got an STD from his next door neighbor and I probably had it, too. I thought he was joking at first, but his face was motionless. “Your neighbor?” I asked. He nodded. Apparently they had been sleeping together the entire time and I was none the wiser. He talked for some time, but his voice was muffled until I made out the words, “You should see your doctor.” A few days later I got in to see my doctor and sure as shit, I had the same STD. Luckily for me, it was easily remedied by a few pills. I informed him of that and that was the last time I spoke with him. You’d think I’d be pissed off by something like that, but he meant so much to me that I was actually willing to overlook it, except he didn’t give me the opportunity to do so. He said he had been talking to this girl for a while, too, and he realized that she was the love of his life. He had told me that his spirit animal was a tiger a month prior and he concluded that hers was also a tiger, while mine was just a bunny. It’s fitting, I guess. I don’t really have that fire within me like he did. I shied away at most things and I ran faster from my problems than I did marathons. I guess you could also say I was weak and light-hearted. Maybe even naive. But I swear, I never wanted to be someone else more than in that moment. Sometimes the reminder of him sneaks up on me. Like this one time when my friend served me cold brew from a French press—the memory of him explaining the mechanics of it to me came flooding back and I had trouble finishing my coffee. Or once when I was walking to class when I saw a guy who looked just like him and I was overcome with excitement because I really thought it was him, but once I realized my mistake, my vision blurred as I tried to rub away the water building up in my eyes. Sometimes I’m reminded of him from the very first sip of coffee I take because of all the memories we made at Café Luce when he was here. But, for the most part, I’ve become good at desensitizing myself to reminders of him, but sometimes I catch wind of his unique personality and it surges through me because he was in everything. He still is in everything. I miss him almost every day and it’s an awful thing to admit when you’ve put up such a strong front all this time. I think a big part of me took these memories and shoved them so deep in my mind where the cobwebs lie as some kind of defense mechanism. But, the lesson I learned from this was when something as big as this happens to you, just let yourself feel things. It’s going to be an absolute shit-show at first, but it will be better in the long run for you to feel all those emotions right now and try to make sense of them over time. You may be tempted to ignore the feelings you’re having because you’re afraid you won’t be able to deal with them in a healthy manner, but holy shit please try to. If not, you’re going to end up like me writing a lame memento that no one is ever going to read. What therapy failed to help me realize was that you have every right to feel sadness just as you would happiness. Because ultimately, they’re both emotions and both equally important to feel at different stages of your life. After the sadness reaches its end you will feel anger and resentment and these, too, are normal and part of the process. When I reached this stage I was running five miles four times a week and sprinting for half of them from the pure rage I was feeling and didn’t know how to properly deal with. I ran and I ran for months until on one of those runs my legs fell out from underneath me and I crashed face first into the dirt road. Tears rolled down my cheeks and I bellowed out the most ungodly scream—not from the pain of the fall, but as a result of so much bottled up emotional pain I had. Addison damn near killed me. It's been several years since all of this happened and I still can’t understand how someone who said they loved you could just leave like that. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how someone could light up your entire world one day and then break every bone in your body the next. The worst part is that even after all this pain, I can’t bring myself to hate him. Or even resent him, although I really want to. I still love him and I think I always will. The thing is, the way you fall in love with someone doesn’t have to follow the same trajectory as what you saw in Disney movies as a kid. You can love someone deeply simply because their company burns a fire within you. You can love someone because they make you feel important… valued. The way you love people is never the same, either, because people have different effects on you and they come at different points in your life. Addison was my world. I wanted us to be happy together more than I wanted anything else and that in itself is the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced. Since Addison, I haven’t been able to truly be myself again. I’m still able to love, of course, but never as deeply and never as ignorantly. Because of him, now I actively look for faults in people, just so it doesn’t hurt me in the future once the cats out of the bag. I’m actively on the lookout for any sign of disloyalty or any indication that I’ll be burned in the crossfires and the second I see it, I pull out my toolbox and start building my 10 foot wall. I’m not sure if that’s a blessing or a curse because as a result, I don’t fall as deeply for someone anymore and therefore, don’t get hurt as intensely when the relationship fails. I do realize that it’s a pretty destructive way to view relationships. It’s almost like I expect a bad outcome every time so when the relationship inevitably fails I’m not phased.. But I also understand that by expecting the worst, I’m subconsciously resigned to the fact that the relationship is temporary and so I don’t give it my all. I can definitely see how that could contribute to the relationship failing. It’s a vicious cycle, but I don’t know if I have it in me to give someone my all again. Maybe someday in the future I’ll learn to let go of my fears and give someone the power to break my heart because it’s kind of beautiful if you think about it. As humans we only get so many years of life and to be willing to let someone be a part of those years is heartwarming. At this point in my life, even a broken heart sounds nice to me because at least then, I’d feel something. Feeling heartbroken is yet, just another feeling and it is equally important as feeling happiness. I guess the takeaway is that no matter how much someone hurts you, you shouldn’t let it influence you in your future relationships. Continue to be your soft-hearted-self and don’t let anyone ever try to make you hard because once you give into the pessimistic view of love, it will take a *lot* for you to snap back out of it. I’m afraid that some people have been hurt so bad that they never learn to love again because they can’t bring themselves to be that vulnerable a second time and rightfully so. But listen, if you keep doing that you’re never going to be happy because you’ll never be at peace in your relationship. You thinking that something will inevitably go wrong, will *make* something go wrong. Even though deep down you may be worried you’ll get hurt again, I think it’s worth the risk. While I am deeply saddened that what Addison and I had ended, overall, I am happy it happened. How’s that saying go? “It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all?” Cliche as hell, but it’s a good one. So this one’s for you, Addison. The memory of you will live until my dying day. I hope you’re off somewhere sparking a change in someone else’s life, as you did with me. I will always care for you and I hope someday we cross paths again so I can thank you in person. \ Thanks for reading guys. I've been thinking about writing a book on the small things I've learned from life, as well as, detailing some beautiful and traumatic experiences I've had. However, I am uncertain whether my writing has what it takes. I would appreciate your opinion on the matter, as I feel anonymity makes people act in a more truthful manner.


Below is my first piece of writing in a long time. Its strongly influenced by my homeboy Alan Watts and the scientific field of evolutionary psychology. All feedback is appreciated!  Rolf was stuck somewhere between a boy and a man. Twenty-eight he was now, and even though he was slowly starting to show the first signs of maturing his face was still fare and smooth, and his body could have been that of an adolescent. He had always been very self-conscious about his boy-like features. He sat on the red leather bench of the ship stroking his attempt of a beard on his chin. He was still digesting the thought that his journey to South America had embarked once more. Anyone would find the way he traveled exhausting. Now he was taking a boat from Finland to Sweden, after which he would fly to Miami, Florida, with two long transits. From there he could finally board the plane to his final destination, Argentina. The entire mess was supposed to take three days, with one night in Stockholm and another in Madrid. However, he was not bothered at all about the upcoming busy days. An older woman looked at him for few seconds while passing his seat, which he had purposely chosen to be away from the biggest crowds. It made him question his choice of clothing and his general look –jeans that were already worn out and a single colored but already battered t-shirt. “Do I look too rugged? Damn, is my hair getting messy again from the wind?” But then he remembered that he had made the decision not to care about people’s opinions when it came to irrelevant topics such as looks or status. He was supposed to be better than that. He felt happy about being on the road again, even though he was somewhat troubled. This was because he was not certain if he was traveling for himself, or for the woman who was waiting for him in Argentina. He did not mind about doing nice things for the sake of the woman, who he did love. However, he questioned the sincerity of his motives. Maybe he was controlled to think that this was the way to act, even if the animal inside him was desperately howling against it. ”How am I supposed to gather my thoughts on this!” – he thought. “Even if I am doing it for her, my mind won’t admit it to myself! Who can I trust, if not my own brain!”. He had picked up subjects such as psychology and philosophy in high school and been obsessed with finding the correct way of being ever since, but he was not sure if it was doing him any good. He had turned countless stones in literature and tried to discipline himself to be happy, chased Buddha in his spiritual journey to achieve nirvana, lived like the Cyrenaic, and lived like there was no tomorrow and nobody to answer to. He had tried a myriad of things but had become none the wiser. Mostly this quest for the holy grail of truth had gotten him into overthinking every small aspect of his life, creating unnecessary complications, or at least so he felt. “I need to relax my nerves somehow. Maybe it’s okay to take one more today.” He dug up the package of Swedish snus. This strong product resembled chewing tobacco, but one kept under his lip passively, instead of chewing. Rolf lifted his upper lip and sucked the air gently, to remove any extra moisture under the lip. Then he inserted the fresh bag of snus in that carefully prepared spot. For the next few minutes he stared at the sea in mundane thoughts like “Did I take my passport” or “Should I change my major once more in the university”. Then he felt it kicking in, and his whole body became light and started slowly sinking into the couch. “I was supposed to stop using this, even jellyfish have more spine than I do”. Rolf was obsessed with this sort of thoughts, thoughts on how to be a “man” or how to be “good”. He also thought he had found an answer to both of these questions, yet paradoxically he did not follow the advices. It was as if there were some otherworldly powers tampering with his sophisticated self-improvement strategies. Rolf closed his eyes to see better. Five figures manifested into being. Closest to him there was a woman with wide hips and unnaturally narrow waist, with full lips and fair face. It took tremendous effect to redirect his attention away to the next figure. On the right side of this manifestation of feminity there was a human like figure that was not male nor a female but was still more human than any of the others, but it gave out a feeling of confidence, calmness, goodness and wisdom like Rolf had never seen before. On her left side the woman had a handsome bearded man with his head held high, and who greeted Rolf with a booming voice right when Rolf had first laid eyes on him. Behind this trio were the fourth and fifth figure; First was a wolf but in man's clothes, with untamed fire burning in its eyes, clearly looking for a prey. Second was almost like three figures but still one, and it was evil with no emotion, but only deception and care for itself. Or so Rolf thought at first, but here, in this unreal space the good and the evil faded away and had no meaning, and the four figures became equal. They all had their place, right where they stood. But they could not be given freedom. They all guided him on his path, but from their given places. And he realized he knew who they were now, and he felt that knowing them will be a refreshing start. Rolf opened his eyes to see the sun pouring down hot on him. The red leather couch had heated up to be rather uncomfortable, and so he spat the snus out into the small part of the package that was meant for the used ones, and after quickly got up. He felt great. Only now he realized that he had woken up with a smile wider than his mouth had ever before experienced, and it was still engraved on his face. He laughed. People turned to look, but he did not mind, but he was not being indifferent either. Girls gave curious glimpses, but he felt no desire. Men looked down on him, but he did not get angry, nor did he submit. Rolf saw the sea, trees, sky and the clouds all connecting to each other effortlessly. His mind did not wander off to tomorrow or to the past, and hence he had finally arrived to the present. This moment was not twisted, not warped by anything, and he had never felt true like this before. Rolf understood that all the leashes that had been guiding him and all the hands that had held him in his place had now been cut loose, and he was able to set his own purpose.


A man in a suit sits alone at a small wooden desk. He's inside a cheap motel on the side of a small country highway. He's writing on a faded yellow legal pad full of marks and scratches. For some reason he can't seem to form his thoughts into words and it deeply pains him. He glances at the alarm clock by the bed, it reads 2:36 AM. The man is tired and hasn't written a satisfactory sentance in the past hour, so he decides to take a break and pours himself his third glass of Brandy for the night. He takes a sip and decides to lay down on top of the bed and ends up thinking of a different life where he was a very wealthy owner of a large fruit juice company. After about 15 minutes of daydreaming the man reminds himself of reality, and so, he goes back to the desk where he then goes on to write a full paragraph about success and failure without any mistakes or edits in the next 5 minutes. By the time the man finishes the last sentance, he is briefly entertained by a chorus of two lovers in the next room. After a few minutes and a short dopamine rush, the man begins to feel lonely. The man's mood begins to sink further but before it can take its toll on him, the man is briefly inspired to write another paragraph about love and family. After writing the first two paragraphs, the man has no trouble writing a third and final paragraph to conclude his writing for the night. Once he was done he read through his previous writings two or three times and fixed any spelling or grammar errors he found. Finally, he carries the legal pad to his bedside and laid it on the nightstand. He sat down on the edge of the bed and read it one last time. " My name is Mark Williams. I'm a used car salesman from Massachusetts. I've chased success throughout my entire life. I always studied hard, I got into a good business school and graduated with honors. Afterwards I went into financial advising and for a few years I was doing really well for myself. I had a big house, a wife, two kids, and a dog. The real American dream. Then a particularly lengthy financial crisis hit and I was out of a job. My wife and I decided to downsize to a smaller house, and then I got an office job making spreadsheets for an insurance company outside of Boston. I hated it. It felt like a huge waste of time but I couldn't find any other job at the time. After a few years the economy cought back up and I tried getting another financial advising job but couldn't get hired because I hadn't worked in the field in so long. I felt trapped. After a while an old friend of mine got me a job working for his cousin as a carsalesman at a used car lot. I gladly took the job because I needed a change in my life, and eventually I grew to hate that too. This hate grew and I took it out on my wife. It sounds bad, and I do regret it, but it's easier than you'd imagine, to have a small argument turn into a toxic fight whenever you have so much pent up anger. After every fight, I needed to get out of the house to be alone, so I went to a local bar and started drinking. This is process repeated a few times and eventually lead to my divorce, which lead me to drown my sorrows in more alcohol. I loved my family and I wish I could go back and take back the hateful words I said to my wife. But, I understand that they've started a new life that doesn't leave any room for me, and I don't blame them. I don't know who will end up reading this, but whoever does. Don't make the same mistakes as me. Don't waste your breath on hateful words. Don't dedicate your life to a career that will only give you money. Find people you enjoy being around and surround yourself with them. I wish I could go back and change how I lived my life, but what's been done is done, and I am left to pay the cost. " Afterwards the man set the legal pad gently down on the bed next to him. He opened the drawer to the nightstand, reached inside, and pulled out a small silver pistol. He then holds the gun to his head, briefly thinks of a different life, and pulls the trigger.


Myself and my friend Julie set out for a hike in the woods. We had everything planned down to the finest detail. The only thing we hadn't planned on was the weather and a storm was fast approaching. As we searched around for the perfect spot to pitch our tent I came across a pile of trail mix, which led me to another and another. The trail was leading us somewhere as if somebody wanted us to find something. The trail eventually led us into a clearing. As we got to the clearing the trail suddenly stopped. A strong smell of ginger wafted through the air. Me and Julie followed the smell until we found the source of where it was coming from. We came upon a small wooden cabin. The light was on and smoke was coming from the chimney. Someone was cooking something and it smelled good. The rain was pelting down, so me and Julie decided to see if they would offer us shelter. Our bellies were empty and it was too wet and windy to pitch the tent. Julie knocked on the door as I peered through the window. The place seemed empty except for a pot of food cooking over an open fire in the centre of the room. Cold and hungry we decided to leave ourselves in. "Sure, if all comes to all I will offer to pay for their hospitality, " I said to Julie. I looked around the cabin for any sign of life. I walked over to the pot and lifted the lid. A smell of ginger rose up from the pot and into my nose. There were thick chunks of meat in the stew and it looked delicious. With my stomach growling, I grabbed two big bowls that were sitting by the pot. I served up two big hearty bowls of stew for myself and Julie. Julie sat by the window eating her stew. Something had caught her attention and she seemed more focused on what was outside then eating the stew. As I was eating my stew I started reading through a book I found in a drawer in one of the bedrooms. The book appeared to belong to a girl called Gretchen, it was some sort of diary with only a few entries. December 1: The winter freeze is setting in, food is sort. So my dad has to sell my horse for food and fuel. I hate him for it, he was my best friend. December 10 : The food is gone. I heard rumours that parents were eating their kids to survive. I'm too hungry to even care or be scared. December 11: My brother Hanson came into my room last night. He looked scared. He tucked me in and gave me a kiss on the cheek. He told me he had to go away and I was to follow him when it was safe to do so and he would leave a trail for me to find him. "Look for the trail and we can never be apart," he told me. December 13: We started eating well. For once there seemed to be plenty of food. I just wished Hanson could be here to share it with us. I asked my mom and dad where he was? They just smiled at me and told me he was gone to live in the Gingerbread house. A magical place with plenty of food to eat, and he sends us the food that he can't eat.. December 20: Food is getting low again and I'm really scared. I overheard my mother crying to my father, telling him I was all she had left. My father angrily telling her that we won't make it through the winter and definitely not with an extra mouth to feed. I heard him tell my mother that they were young enough to start over. December.21: I watched out the window as my father sharpened the axe. A smell of ginger floated through the air. I'm afraid this might be my last entry. Please pray for me. The entries just stopped and the rest of the diary was empty. As I leafed through the pages a piece of folded paper fell from the diary. My eyes widened as I read the text. It was some sort of recipe and instructions on how to splay meat from certain parts of the body. I felt my knees buckle and weakness washed over me as I read the writing at the end of the piece of paper. "If you scare the kids it taints the meat. If the meat tastes bitter, use plenty of ginger." I toss my bowl of stew across the room. I screamed at Julie to drop her bowl. She dropped it and called me over to the window. "At first I thought I was imagining it, but what is that outside by the trees, " said Julie as she pointed out the window. A flash of lightning lit up the forest outside the cabin. A little girl was standing outside waving at us. Every time the lightning flashed she got closer to the cabin. Before we knew it she was standing at the window smiling and waving at us. She didn't appear to have hands just stumps were her hands used to be. Then the lightning struck again and the little girl was standing in the cabin. The little girl pointed at the pot that was brewing on the fire with her stumpy arm. “How did I taste? I was scared so I might taste bitter, " laughed the little girl We heard a loud bang come from outside the cabin. The little girl turned to look at the door. The grin on her face turned to pure terror. I asked her what the noise was. She turned to me with tears in her eyes. “It’s my Dad and I think he is hungry.“ The little girl turned to Julie. “Are you scared? Please don't be scared, if you don't taste good my dad will be angry with me.


I have a folder where I have all of my stories printed out on paper. There are a few in there and I chose to share this one. It’s kind of sad, but I still hope you enjoy it. Feedback is also very welcome! I could see it in your eyes. The sparkle of joy, of luck of love. It was all there. The way the corners of your mouth curled up into the most gorgeous smile I have ever seen in my entire life and your laugh, that could lighten up an entire city. You behavior was so respectful, so lovely, so careful towards others that my heart hurt from affection. You were the sweetest thing this world could ever dare to create. A blessing, even though that word didn’t capture the happiness you brought into my life in the slightest. You were my heart. Every inch of me was consumed by you and I couldn’t stop thinking of your lovely features, which were almost engraved into my brain. My mind always wandered back to your incredible personality, generous being and ravishing laugh. It almost hurt, but I liked that pain. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. You were everything I needed and even more. But where are you now? The most amazing person I’ve ever laid my eyes one, the one that would make my heart melt, my soulmate? That was how you would always call us. Soulmates. You left me, left me alone in this big world. I know you didn’t mean to, I’m not blaming you, don’t worry. I’m blaming fate and the universe to tear us apart, to steal your wonderful life, to force you to leave. Why did it have to happen? I looked up into the night sky. Where my heart used to beat swiftly, now felt like a gaping cave, filled only by sorrow and numbing agony. My stomach was in pain and it seemed as if somebody was picking at my head with wicked glee, causing a disgusting headache to make my body even weaker than it already was. Why? Why you? Why us? So many questions, silence as an answer. Sometimes I think it’s my fault. I know you wouldn’t approve of that thought at all, but nobody was here to tell me otherwise. It felt like my will to live was slowly leaking out of my body like a broken pipe, just dripping away until everything was gone. What I saw wasn’t the world. It wasn’t the beautiful scenery, which I had a faint memory of in my mind. It wasn’t filled with the wonderful music you liked. You weren’t there and suddenly nothing made sense anymore. No one would wipe away my tears. No one would tell me everything’s alright. Because nothing was alright. Why did you have to die? So just looked up into the night sky, wondering why.


The sound of rain penetrates through the thick walls of my apartment. I slowly sit up in bed. “It’s still raining?” I think to myself as I look out the window at the dismal view. The distant lights of the city’s center glows in the distance. I clumsily stumble out of bed, only to see that there is a wet spot on my carpet. “For God’s sake Zelda…” I think as I see my cat, Zelda, quietly licking her paws in the corner of the room. “Don’t you know how to use the litter box?” I half yell, half say to Zelda, but she just meows back. I walk into the kitchen to fix myself some breakfast. I flip the switch when I walk in. Nothing. Not even a flicker. Whatever. I’ll go downstairs and flip the circuit breakers after I eat. But I’ll still have to make breakfast in the dark. I shuffle my feet towards my dreary table. The rotten fruit inside the plastic bowl on top of the moth-eaten tablecloth really brings the whole gloomy scene together. I slowly walk over to the cabinet, still wiping the sleep from my eyes. I pull out a long expired bread loaf. The first few pieces were moldy, but by the fourth, it was fine. As I chew my raw bread, I stare as my sister’s cat, Oreo, comes slinking out of her room. My sister, Ava, had left hours before I even got up. She works for a publishing company in center city so she has to take a tram. It can take about four hours to get in on busy days, so she probably left around 4am. Oreo is a much calmer, older cat than Zelda. He often helps our building catch mice and other small, unwanted creatures. Zelda, on the other hand, just lays around all day and pees on the floor. Suddenly a deafening crash goes shaking through the floor. Worried, I run to my front door and look out in the hallway. Half my floor is peeking out of their doors’, wondering what in the world that could have been. I take the lead and go walking towards the stairwell. My neighbor and friend, Sean Violi, follows behind me. Sean and I met a few years ago after we were both in a crash. I came out with only scrapes and bruises, but he had to get a whole new arm. It didn’t really do anything but at least he didn’t get in the crash ten years earlier. The tech for the new limbs was only just starting then, so he probably would have a stump at his shoulder. Sean and I walk down the stairs. Another ear piercing crash rings through the building. It sounds like it is coming from the lobby. I cautiously reach the bottom of the stairs and look at the lobby. Everything seems normal, except that two cars are crashed against the front of the building. I rush over to the manager who seems pretty scared. “What happened?” I say to him. “Really? Have you looked outside? We have gotten two inches of rain in the past hour!” He replies. “Well that explains it. Shouldn’t someone come and block the roads off?” “No go. There was a huge crash down by city hall. Apparently the hovertrain swerved off the tracks onto the road. I’ll check the news after we clean up.” “Remember? No power. Your gonna need to flip the circuit breakers later.” “Yeah that’s right. I forgot and I will.” At that exact moment, Sean reaches the bottom of the stairs. Sean hears the end of my interaction with the manager. He gives me a look that says, “You know that I’m gonna go get parts.” I give him the look back. “Let’s go!” I yell at him. “I have to grab my phone and get dressed,” Sean says. “ I’ll wait here.” I check my phone. No service. I yell to Sean, “Forget the phone! There’s no service!” I hear him respond, but I don’t know what he said. A few minutes later, Sean rushes down the stairs, carrying my skateboard as well as his. He tosses mine to me and I catch it and turn on the hover mode. The green lights turn on as my board lets out a puff of steam. The wheels fold in as the board hovers a few inches off the ground. Sean turns on his and we rush out the door. ✤ The street is a mess. Parts from crashed cars are strewn across the drenched cobblestones. I look around at the tall buildings as I rush towards the large crash up ahead. I can see people holding black umbrellas, slyly picking up engine parts, wheels, anything they can get of the precious cars. Scavenging is technically illegal, but even the police do it. We all know that the parts from the rich are all too valuable to pass up. Sean and I usually use the parts we find to improve our skateboards, or boards as most people call them. They are a combo of a really old skateboard combined with some slightly less old hover technology. “I see a few engines!” Sean yells over the pouring rain. I nod to him and swerve around the corner. Whenever we scavenge we normally split up. Sean tries to get things that we can attach to our boards to make them faster, while I usually try to find things we can sell. An axle from a standard hover model can sell for up to $3,000, and those are one of the cheapest things on the vehicle. Unfortunately, axles and other things on the cars are quite big, so I have to make due with smaller parts. While Sean can grab engines and put them on his board straight away, I can only grab what I can carry, which is normally just things that can sell for about $200. HONK. A car swerves around me. I turn to see a jumble of cars, all stopped at the intersection I just crossed. I skid to a stop, letting down my wheels to preserve battery. A large, armored vehicle comes around the corner. Philadelphia P.D. is badly covered by duct tape on the side of the car. Something bigger is going on here than I thought. I ignore the military looking officials walking down the street and turn down an alleyway, carrying my board so there is no sound. I see a figure near the end of the alley that appears to be trying to climb the fire escape. I walk past, quickening my pace so I don’t have to confront the stranger. I can feel his eyes follow me as I walk further down. I can see a sushi place across the street with lots of people going in and out. “The perfect place to hide, isn’t it?” The voice coming from behind me startles me, and I jerk around. Standing before me is a young man in casual clothing; jacket, jeans, even a team jersey underneath the jacket; some kind of town shirt. He looks completely normal, except his eyes. His eyes look like dark pits of water that have something dangerous lurking below. His eyes appear to draw you in and make you look at him. I notice that the worsening rain seems to curve around him, leaving him dry. “Who are you?” “Who do you think?” he says. Suddenly, a flash of lighting lights up the sky. We both look up for a second. When my eyes drift back down, the strange man is gone. I look around, surprised at is sudden disappearance. Another flash silhouettes a figure on the roof above, staring at me. I walk on, but with the unnerving feeling of being watched. Next to the sushi place, called Oriental Fuji, I see an umbrella washed up against the curb. I rush over to it and open it. Glad to have cover from the rain, I glance around to make sure no one is following me, and I shuffle past the warm and welcoming door of the restaurant, and walk on. Still feeling uncomfortable from the encounter with that unnerving man, I decide to try and find my way home. Up ahead, I see a fire escape that is down. The drains and sewers also seem to be overflowing, so I decide that fire escape it a good option. I slowly start ascending ladders and stairs, caterpillaring my way up towards the roof. Suddenly, I feel a vibrating sound in my pocket. I quickly glance at my phone screen. My sister Ava is calling me. Service must be back. I answer the phone. “Hello?” I say. “Yeah hi Lux. Have you seen this rain? My boss let everyone go home early. I should be home in about 20 minutes. Where are you? It sounds loud.” she says back. “I’m just taking a walk around the block to exercise,” I lied. “Uh-huh.” “I’ll see you when you get back, okay? I love you.” “Love you too. Bye.” “Bye.” I hang up the phone just as I reach the roof. Rain screams down from above and wind whips my light coat. I wrap myself up tighter as a strong gush nearly knocks me off the roof. Definitely a bad idea to come up here. I cautiously make my way back over to the fire escape. I make my way down, careful not to slip on the slick metal. I slowly walk down the stairs and ladders until I’m back on the street. I glance around at the storefronts lining this street. All appear to be closed, even Oriental Fuji. I check the weather on my phone. It is supposed to keep raining for a few more hours. I continue on my trek back home. ✤ I trudge into my apartment, colder than ice and drenched to the core. I throw my jacket over one of the chairs in the kitchen and take my shoes off and fling them towards the door. I decide to call Sean and tell him where I am. It rings three times before he answers. “Hello?” I say. “Hey what’s up?” Sean responds. “I was just wondering if you came back from scavenging yet. I didn’t see you come in.” “Yeah I came back a few minutes ago. You back yet?” “I must have just missed you. I just got back. Did you find any good parts?” “No, not really. Seems like it all got washed away or taken already. But I don’t really care, since we don’t need that much more on our boards.” “Yeah I didn’t get anything either. I’ll see you later I guess?” “Yeah ok. Bye.” “Bye.” I once again hang up the phone and look around my room. It doesn’t look quite as dark as it did this morning. Wait, what time is it? I check my phone. 6:07 PM. I’m startled by how fast the day went by, but I must have been scavenging for longer than I thought. I walk out of my room to start making dinner. Ava walks through the door just as I’m setting out bowls and putting sauce in them. She must smell the simmering noodles in the pot on the stove, because she says, “Mmmm, that smells good!” I turn with a smile and say, “You know spaghetti is my specialty.” I laugh at my own joke. We both know I can’t cook. I grab the handle of the pot to pour the noodles into the bowls when Ava says, “You know what we need? Some spices.” “Your right. I’ll grab them when I’m done pouring,” I say. I slowly pour noodles into each of our bowls and set the pot down. I walk over to our spice cabinet and pull out some garlic and basil. Maybe that will work? I walk back toward the sink to grab a knife and a cutting board. “I’ll cut them. You go put on some music,” Ava says. “Okay,” I respond. Suddenly, a knock on the door distracts me. “I’ll get it!” I yell to Ava. I open the door and step back in shock. It’s the strange man from the alley! As I stand there, jaw on the floor, he just walks right into my apartment. “How did you find me?” I finally stutter out. “I have my ways. Nice place you have here. It would be a shame if it got soaked in rain,” the man says in a sarcastic tone. His whirlpool eyes, scary out in the rain, are terrifying in the lights of my kitchen and entryway. You can almost see the hate burning underneath. From the other room, I hear Ava say, “Lux, who you talking to?” “I don’t really know,” I respond. The man smirks at me. At that moment, he seems to notice Zelda licking her paws on the windowsill. He smiles at her, a glint appearing in his eyes. The fading sun shines through the blanket of clouds and Zelda turns her head toward the window, intrigued by the sudden brightness. The man also seems confused at the brightness, stumbling backwards into the shadows. Interesting. “Hey Ava,” I call. “Can you open the blinds in there? The sun is coming out.” “Sure can do,” Ava responds. The man briefly has a look of terror on his face but quickly masks it with a neutral expression. Light suddenly replaces the shadow coming out of the kitchen, and the man jumps back, holding his suddenly blistering arm in pain. He is now trapped in the corner, right in the crosshairs of the final two windows in my apartment. I run over to the windows and I hear the man yell, “No! Stop!” I pull open the blinds and light cascades into the room. Behind me, the man starts screaming in agony. Ava comes running out of the kitchen, looking scared. “Stop! Don’t help him,” I say. The man looks at us, begging for mercy with just his face. But his eyes show a different story. He knows we won’t help him. Blisters erupt across his face, growing bigger by the second. The man suddenly stumbles to his feet and sprints towards the window. Zelda looks up in shock, and gracefully jumps down from the windowsill right before the man lunges out the window. Luckily, the glass doesn’t shatter, but the whole frame falls onto the fire escape right below. The man screams as he falls over the railing and down to the pavement below. I slowly walk over to the window, reach over and grab the frame from the stairs, and put it back in. Neither Ava nor I want to hear the sirens and screams of neighbors. ✤ Through the thick walls of my apartment, I can hear birds chirping. I sit up in bed, gazing out the window to the blue skies outside. Dust floats around my room, catching the light, and sending small reflections on the walls. Zelda purrs softly at the end of my bed, smiling in the warm light. Looking out my window, I can see the city’s center, not lit up in a neon glow as it was yesterday, but ablaze in the color green, the rain having made the flowers and trees of the city blossom. Dots of pink are sprinkled throughout the green, cherry trees that seem to have enjoyed the rain. I suddenly remember what happened yesterday. Attempting to push that out of my mind, I step out of bed and get in the shower. When I’m done, I get dressed and walk into the kitchen. Bacon sizzles in a pan on the stove, and toast sits on a plate, basically asking to be eaten. On the couch, Ava is laying down, watching the news. “Why aren’t you at work? It is…” I check my phone. “Almost 8!” “The office was closed today. Apparently something about water damage,” Ava says. “You know that guy from yesterday? He was apparently a wanted criminal.” Suddenly, the man’s face fills the screen, and the news reporter says, “He was close to death after falling out of a 6 story window last night. He is currently being treated at Jefferson Health. The man was wanted for robbery, murder, and attempted murder.” “Good thing we got him away from us, we could have been killed,” I say. Ava turns to me and says, “Well, since I got off work today, I was thinking we could go down to Cape May. I doubt many people will be there because of the rain.” “Are you sure you want to go? We haven't been since Mom passed,” I say, stuttering a bit on that last part. “Sure! We can just go down for the day.” “Okay, if you say so.” I walk towards the door, and Ava follows. As I step out, Zelda tries to follow me, and Oreo is close behind her. I pet her and say, “Bye Zelda. I’ll see you later tonight okay? Don’t break anything!” I then walk out and close the door behind me. ⧫⧫⧫ I slam the car door and look towards the beach. The grass waves in the breeze, as if welcoming us to their home. In the distance, clouds stand tall and foreboding, but also appear graceful and calm above the sea. Among the clouds is the floating city, called Caeli, peacefully floating over the ocean. Looking to my side, I see Ava also looking out over the sea, but I can tell that she isn’t thinking about the view, but about Mom. Ava was closer to her than I ever was, and so she misses her a lot more than I do. Not to say that I don’t miss her, a day doesn’t go by where I don’t think of her, but Ava just seems to be more sad, more often. I walk over to the sand, wind in my hair, and look around once again. I notice that there is no one on the beach in our view. I guess Ava was right. No one wants to go to the beach after a rainstorm. I step closer to the water, and slip off my shoes. The cold water licks at my feet, and I slowly step in deeper, up to my ankles. A sudden gust of wind blows cherry blossoms and leaves past me, and into the water. As they drift away, I allow myself to think of Mom again. Mom sits across from me, legs crossed, with a smile on her face. Outside the window behind her, snow falls slowly. I smile back at her, but with a twinge of sadness. We both know that her cancer is getting worse every day, and she doesn't have much time left. I reach down to grab her gift, which I wrapped as best as I could. The wrapping paper has flowers on it, and I tied a blue ribbon around the whole thing. I hand it to Mom, and she does another sad smile. Her frail fingers slowly unravel the ribbon and take off the paper. Inside is a small box with a blue lily on the lid, her favorite kind of flower. She opens it, and pulls out the necklace. The necklace was specifically made for her. It cost me a fortune, but I don’t even care. The reason it costs so much is because the blue lily pendant. It is carved from silver, and diamond. The necklace itself also has sections made of gold. “Oh Lux…” she sighs, “You didn’t have to get me this.” “I know I didn’t have to...” I pause to consider my next words. “I wanted to, because I love you more than anything else on the planet.” Mom died the day after New Years. She had wished to be cremated, and have her ashes spread over her favorite beach, where Ava and I are now. When we spread her ashes, we planted a bunch of blue lilies in the ground near the beach. Those are starting to pop up now, just the tiniest bit of blue among the grass. I hear Ava come up next to me, but I don’t look at her. We don’t need to look at each other to know what the other is feeling. In the corner of my eye, I can see her bend down and splash some water on her face, so I do the same. I turn away a walk down the beach, and Ava follows me. After a while, we decide to go back to the car and head home. I take one last look at the ocean before getting in.


Ch. 1 “I set the acceleration and lifted my foot off the gas, I rested my arms on my lap and just made some minor adjustments with my finger if the car would veer off. I was on a straight road in the middle of the night, I didn't think anything of it. I only took the drive because I needed to clear my head. So much shit has been piling up on me lately. I’m having trouble at work with my coworker, he keeps going to the boss and lying about me. At home, my kid is taking off at night and we don’t know if he’s coming back or not. And with my wife… shit, where do I start? I just took a drive to get away, you know? Just get my mind off of it all. Just a Friday night drive” “Then what happened?” “Oh, yeah, I was just sitting on the road. It was dark and straight. That’s actually why I was on it, you know? I didn't have to focus on driving really, I could just sit back and think about life. Anyway, I saw a car parked on the side of the road. That threw me for a loop, it was two in the morning on a side road. I mean, I was alone. There was no one behind me or in front of me at all. That's why seeing this car on the side of the road got me distracted. I started wondering why the hell someone would stop on the side of this dark road. What did they have going on in their life that they would stop on this road? Anyway, as I was looking at this car, I wasn’t paying attention to the road. I mean, I really didn't think I had to. It’s supposed to be a non-busy road. There shouldn’t be anyone else on the road!” “Ok, ok, calm down. Tell me what happened next.” “Yeah, you’re right. I was looking around and suddenly I felt my car hit something, then all of a sudden someone came through my windshield. I mean, in an instant that was it, I killed someone. He came out of nowhere and I just hit him. I mean, I didn't find out until later that Mr. Newall was just trying to flag me down to help him with his car. But he came out of nowhere! The worst part is, I know if I had just been paying attention to the road, none of this would have happened. Hell, if I had just stayed home, I wouldn't be in this mess. Do you know what it feels like to hit someone with your car? Initially, it just feels like hitting a pole or something. It feels like hitting something hard. Then the body comes through the window and you realize what actually happened. I mean, I killed someone. I just took someone's life away from them. Fuck… FUCK MAN, WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?” “Calm down, Anthony, calm down. Just tell me what happened after that. Maybe there is something we can do to help your case.” “Right… right. Well, I pulled over with Mr. Newall sticking out of my windshield. I immediately called 911 and told them where I was and what happened. I don't know what I’m going to do. What am I going to tell my wife and kid? I’m going to have to tell him that his father took a life. One day someone was living, and the next he is not. Who the hell am I to take a life? How am I supposed to live with myself? I’m going to remember his face for the rest of my life. I’m a piece of shit. I am the worst type of person. I only looked away for a second. Just a second! I can't live with myself.” “Well, Anthony, I’m not sure there is much I can do for you. We can try to get a plea deal, but the prosecution might want to take this the distance to set an example. I will try my best, but expect the worst.” Ch.2 She sat there, still. She just learned that her father, John Newall, just died the night before on a back road. She felt absolutely nothing. Well, she didn't know what to feel, actually. She was feeling a lot of emotions all at once. On the one hand, he was her father. She should be sad, maybe even devastated. The man who brought her into this life and provided for her is now out of her life forever. Fifteen years she saw this man every day, and now she will never see him again. *Shouldn’t I feel sad?* she thought to herself. On the other hand, however, for the last five years, John Newall had been raping her every Friday night when he would come back from the bar. Like clockwork; he would stumble into the house, open her door, rape her, then cry on her shoulder and say how much of a piece of shit he was. And every Friday night when he would leave, she would cry herself to sleep. Actually, for a year or so she cried herself to sleep every night. But last night, something in her snapped. As soon as John Newall stepped in her room she got up and started to yell at him. She said every name she could think of. Finally, she told him that she wished she was dead, “because at least then I wouldn't have to be your daughter.” With this, he showed no emotion. John Newall just got in his car and drove away. The last thing he told his daughter was that he always loved her. She had a sneaking suspicion that he was going to kill himself that night for the things he did to his daughter. She wished that the man that hit him wouldn't be punished for it. She would tell the police what he did, but they wouldn't believe her. Her mom knew what was going on every Friday. To save face, she wouldn’t let what he did get out. She needed to make sure *her* reputation stayed intact. For now, John Newall’s secret would stay. Maybe in the future, she would tell someone. She really did feel bad for the man who hit her father, however.