A continuation of “My Night with my Bestfriend’s Girlfriend” (located on my Reddit Profile Page). After I dropped Ashley off at her house, I spent the next hour or so aimlessly driving down backroads; searching for clarity. I tried to avoid the truth, but with each passing mile; I found myself falling deeper in love with my best-friend’s girlfriend. Then, an early phone call broke my train of thought. It was Tommy, asking how the rest of my night with Ashley went. Tommy was the only one that knew that I had a “thing” for Ashley, but he had no idea just how deep my affection for her really went. He opened with the inevitable question of how far did we “go” and was shocked when I replied with a puzzled “nowhere”. He let the topic go but not before asking how I was going to tell Bobby that I spent the night in my car with his girlfriend. Tell Bobby? Tell Bobby what? I tried my best to normalize what was clearly erratic behavior, but there was no getting around it. I had to come clean, but not fully clean just yet. Later that night I called Ashley and brought up the idea of telling Bobby about our “harmless” sleepover. Normalizing it herself, she minimized the act but ultimately decided that she would tell Bobby. She would tell Bobby, not me? I felt very uneasy at that point. After 10 years of friendship with Bobby, I wanted to be the one to explain the night to him. After a brief back and forth, I decided to let Ashley speak to him first. As I waited for Bobby’s furious phone call, the minutes passed like hours until...the phone rang. It was Ashley. She told me that Bobby didn’t seem too bothered by the night. Didn’t seem too bothered? I was speechless. It took everything for me not to call him myself, but I didn’t want to macro what was apparently a micro issue; so I let it go. Weeks passed and Bobby still hadn’t mentioned anything to me about the incident. We made small talk, but no longer covered anything significant. At that point, our talks seemed more like a chore and less like two old friends catching up. Bobby was still on House Arrest for our crime, so he was also absent from the picture. Either way and intentional or not, I found myself drifting further away from Bobby as I grew closer to Ashley. Ashley and I became inseparable. A day wouldn’t pass without us going to breakfast, dinner, seeing a movie, taking a day trip or just parked in a lot for hours; listening to music and finding ourselves in the lyrics of our youth. Life carried on that way until i was faced with a sobering question from Ashley. She asked if I wanted to go to the Winter Formal with her (since Bobby still couldn’t leave his house). The Winter Formal was a big dance at our high school where everyone got dressed up in fancy clothes and celebrated the coming holiday season. After giving my transparent but obligatory hesitation...I agreed. Fast forward to the night of the Winter Formal. I can still remember the anxious feeling that I felt as I knocked on her front door. Her mom let me in and we made small talk until I saw Ashley walking down the stairs. She was the definition of beauty, draped in a black shoulder-less gown. I walked her to my car and we made our way to the formal. Everything was going as you would imagine until the DJ played a slow song. I couldn’t NOT ask her to dance. So I asked and she eagerly agreed. As I held her against my chest and felt her breath on my neck; it was over. I was head over heels in love. The rest of the night carried on like a blur as time seemed to stand still. Then in a blink, I was walking her to her front door. As we stood under her porch light (her hands holding her heels and her arms warmed in the sleeves of my suit jacket); I found myself just starring at her. It was at that point that I no longer cared about the last 10 years of friendship with Bobby. I was enamored with the dream of a future with Ashley. So I told her...I told her that she was unlike anyone that I had ever met. I told her that her presence made me a better version of myself and that I couldn’t imagine a life without her laugh, her smile, her friendship. I asked her to give me a chance, to give “us” a chance. Then we just stood there, starring at each other, sharing the deafening silence. Then, she broke the silence as she began to cry. I felt lifeless and crippled. Through the tears, she told me that she didn’t want to lose me. I didn’t understand what she meant at the time, but I was sure that it meant that she didn’t love me back...


It is a story as young as the beginning of Time. When the universe was in being, it was mere space and endless voids and abysses. But then, IT came into being. Time. Out from unknown depths and non-beginnings, Time spread throughout the vast emptiness, matching its nothingness with the potential of being. Thus birthed the entities of well-verse within Time itself: Creation and Destruction. The state of being and nothing. It was soon that Creation would shape the universe from nothing, and Destruction would dissipate all being within as well. And so it would be, the universe had not gained nor loss. It would remain as stagnant as it had always and forever will be..... Order had being. Then, a miracle. A random, misshapen happen-stance. From whence Order came, came Chaos into being. Suddenly, Destruction had waned and Creation did not. Amongst the Chaos of the entities, Creation had birthed Rie the Divine of Earth and Sei the Divine of Water. And as Creation have done, so too have Destruction birthed Kyr the Divine of Fire and Taer the Divine of Lightning. And as Order returned to the two Great Entities, it birthed Wos, the Divine of Wind. Each Divine, inspired by the forces that made them into being, asserted their essences onto the universe and sowed the seeds for the Arrival of Life and Death. Growth and Decay. With this new world, were born the twin Divines Lia of the Light and Dia of the Dark through the many entities of Time. Each day, Lia would give light to the world, ushering in the beauty of the universe and disperse the edging nothing of the natural universe. Dia, however, quietly hid away, unseen and forgotten for many ages until the stars of Kyr lit aflame the stars of the black sky high above our world. With it, came a most wondrous being. The first of the gods was unnamed, foreign to the Divines that it had been placed with. An anomaly within their realm, the first of the truly mortal beings. None may know the events of its birth, and yet, the child seems all too familiar to any who gaze upon its figure. Kyr was the first to embrace the newborn child, clutching her like a babe on the eve of its birth. As he gently held her in his arms, his flames quickly waned from his arms to lull the child to sleep. As the child slept, Rie built for it an ever growing cradle, to comfort its new and strangely wondrous life among the Divines. The cradle would outgrow the child, shaping its formations of rocks and stones into its home. When the child had soiled itself, Sei was ready to bless upon it her own wish for cleanliness and good health. She would take it upon herself to wash upon the dirt and mud away from the child, no matter the mess. When the child wept, Wos would sing a joyful tune only it could hear, always soothing its many tantrums and cries. The song would never again be heard from the Wind Divine as the child grew. Taer, however, did not take kindly to the Divines’ coddling of the child. She believed it would make it weak and dependent to the care of the Divines’ whims. Instead, she vowed to protect the child until it had come to age and teach it the lessons of life and death. And lastly, Lia, the Divine of Light, bestowed upon the child the most wondrous gift of all the Divines: a name. The name would carry weight upon those who spoke it, an acknowledgement of existence, an affront to entropy and recovery. Her name would be Luna. And with her arrival, the age of the gods came to being. The Divines would birth more children, many being the old and new gods we have come to worship throughout the ages. They, like the lesser mortals that serve them, would serve the purposes of the Divine, never with a grasp of their knowledge and always with a purpose solely ingrained upon their souls as ordained by the Seven Divine of the Elements. And when we mortals were created by the luster of the universe, it was only then, would the Divines finally slumber.


“Full moon in the sky, Filled with dreams and hope, Fooling with a guy, See you in my scope. Full moon in the sky, Right above the spire, Hate to be that guy, Three two one fire” Ben was singing this awfully catchy song when he walked to the front door of his house that he had heard from the supermarket and somehow ended up in the radio of his car on his way home. “Honey I’m home,” he announced loudly only to be greeted with a gun pointed inches towards his face. “Woah! Hey! Woah! What is this, Mary?!” he asked, his face was with a combination of shock and confusion. “Shut up and get down on your knees!” Mary ordered. “Who are you?” she asked fiercely, tightening the handle of her gun. “Wha- what do you mean *who* am I? I’m *your* husband!” he replied wearily. “What happened to your eyes? Did they heal? Can you see now?” he asked. “They were never broken! I was concealing my real identity,” she responded. “As a blind person?” he questioned. “Yes, as a blind person, it’s easier to avoid suspicion, no one would ever suspect a blind person to-” before she could finish her sentence, she was interrupted by Ben. “...to do what Mary? To kill your own husband on the night of his anniversary with his supposedly blind because of an accident that she refused to talk about even after fourteen years of marriage, wife?!” “My husband wouldn’t know that song,” she uttered, “Now tell me who you are before I paint this wall behind you with my favourite *colour,*” she waved the gun lightly onto his face. “What song? The Full Moon song? I heard it when I was shopping for groceries and somehow the radio in the car on my way back was playing it too, I swear, Mary!” he replied in exhaustion. “Oh no,” she muttered. “If this is true, then this isn’t good. They’re here.” “Who’s here?” Ben asked. “Them!” she answered loudly. “Honey, please, calm down, I have no idea what you're talking about. Can you put the gun down now, please? You’re scaring me,” Ben said calmly. “I mean, I’ve been scared since you pointed the gun at me when I walked in, but, whatever." Mary took a deep breath and sighed heavily, “Alright, on our first date, we were at a park, what food did we share there?” she questioned. Her eyes were sharp, they could cut your cheek. “Aha! Trick question, our first date wasn’t at the park. You hated the park,” he assured. “I love the park,” she replied with a disappointed sigh. “No, you said you hated it because of how it smells,” Ben replied. “I lied because I was trying to be someone I’m not,” she said while rubbing the bridge of her nose. “That doesn’t make any sense and undercover for what exactly?!” he yelled. “Can you stop pointing the gun at me and explain what is happening right now, Mary?!” “Mommy, what’s happening?” they heard from the stairwell. It was their six year old son, David. A tiny cute chubby little boy with dark brown hair in his pajamas who has been woken up by the commotion caused by his parents. “Oh David, sweetie. Nothing’s happening, Mommy and Daddy are just- umm- role-playing,” she replied, pretending to be blind again. “Role Playing?!” he whispered in frustration, “Out of all things?” “I’m sorry, I panicked,” she whispered back. “Can I join?” David asked. “Umm, no sweetie, this is for adults only,” she said in a sweet tone. “Adults only?!” he whispered again. “Don’t teach him stuff like that.” Ben whimpered. “Oh, adults role-playing,” the little boy said, his face cheered up a bit for whatever reason. "A roleplay that has a strong erotic element, it may involve two or more people who act out roles in a sexual fantasy and may be a form of foreplay and be sexually arousing.” Stunned by this sudden revelation. “Wha-?” is all Mary could say as if all her vocabulary knowledge was locked and put inside a freezer while Ben was blinking profusely, jaw dropping to the floor, also at a loss for words. "Where did you learned that, David?" Ben asked. “I saw it on Sarah’s laptop, she said it was a school project,” David explained. “David, do you even know what some of those words mean?” Mary asked. “Nope,” David shook his head. “Alright then, why don’t you go back to sleep upstairs?” Mary ordered gently. But before David could even answer, a faint sound of footsteps approached. “What’s all the fuss about down here?” asked a young lady at the age of thirteen. It was Sarah, their firstborn. Blonde like her mother, taller than David. Which would make sense because she is undeniably older than him. “Why is mom pointing a gun at dad?” she asked, but no surprised tone came from this question as if this was a normal occurrence. “Oh no, did dad find out about mom not being blind all these times?” Now this question did come out as a surprise. “What?!” both Ben and Mary yelled in disbelief. “You knew?” Mary asked. “Of course I knew, I’m thirteen, not dumb.” she answered. “Since when did you know?” Mary asked. “I don’t know, two years ago I think?” “You knew all these times and didn’t even bother to tell me?!” Ben asked quite loudly. “Hey, It’s none of my business.” Sarah replied. “I got home from school one day and saw mom without her glasses, making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich without any problems, her eyes were looking precisely at the ingredients needed to make them, not randomly looking around like she always does.” “Oh Lord, give me strength, women in this family are sociopaths, I feel betrayed.” Ben cried out. “That’s not what sociopaths mean,” said David. “Sixteen years.” Ben said. “What?” Mary asked. “For sixteen years, you pretended to be blind in front of me,” Ben said in a soft voice, but you can feel the anger building up just by the sentence. “I’m sorry, I- I…” Mary stammered. “All those dishes, I’ve done…” Ben continued. “Hey, I helped.” Sarah interrupted. “Those dirty laundry I did, changing these two little accident’s diapers…” “Wow, what?” Sarah asked appallingly. “Which I... your biological father, love so much without any doubt…” Ben continued, but Sarah just rolled her eyes. “While you just sit back and relax?” Ben asked, finally finishing his point. “I… I’m so…” “I need to go take a walk," Ben said, letting out a huge sigh of exasperation. "No! You can't leave, they know about you now. They'll kill you too." Mary whispered loudly. "Excuse me? Did you say *kill*?" Ben asked. "Mary please, I'm begging you, please tell me what is going on right now. I swear I will manually give myself a heart attack, try me! I swear!" Ben shouted, slammed the door next to him, and walked towards the couch and took a seat. A mix of frustration and anger could be seen from his face, with a little hint of confusion. Mary thinks he looks cute when he does that. "Sarah, David, can you both go upstairs to your room? I need to talk with your father," Mary asked politely. "I'd rather listen to be honest," Sarah said. "Me too," David followed. "Do you want to find out if this is a real gun?" Mary asked rhetorically. "Alright. Fine. Yeesh. Come on David let's bounce, the *adults* are talking," Sarah sarcastically replied. She grabbed David's arm and dragged him upstairs. "Don't forget to lock the windows too sweetie!" Mary shouted. But Sarah just rolled her eyes. A few moments of silence before Mary decided to tell Ben the whole truth. "Ahem! So uh… What's… Uh… What's going on in your life right now?" he joked as if they were on their first date. "Ben, I need your full attention right now. Can you give that to me for a few moments?" Sarah queried. "I'm sorry, yes you have my undivided attention, sweetie," Ben nodded. “I’m going to tell you the whole truth. My real name is Marie…” “Yeah, Mary. I know,” Ben interrupted. “No… Please, let me talk and you just listen okay?” Mary asked. Ben nodded. “And it’s spelled differently.” She added. “ My real name is Marie Stein, my family… My father is a drug lord in Germany. I ran away from home when I was still fifteen after I found out the truth that he had killed my mother because she threatened to go to the local police and spill his secrets if she wouldn’t stop fooling around with other women. But he couldn’t risk his *career* after hearing that, so he put three bullets to her chest and two on the head just to make sure she was dead. I was playing hide and seek with the butler’s son and was hiding under the closet in their room. I saw the whole thing through the cracks. The next day, I packed days worth of clothing, stole a ton of money from his safe, and made my way to the nearest autobahn- I mean highway, and hitchhiked from Rothenburg to Goch. You have no idea the lengths I went to keep myself safe. But I don’t want to get into that now. It took me months to get that far, and I can’t stop there, I had to keep going because my father has connection, people, and the resources at his disposal just to find me. As long as I am in Germany, I could never feel safe. So I sneaked into the Netherlands through a river. After days of begging the people there to sneak me into the Netherlands, someone finally said yes. The boat was small, it had a secret compartment underneath it, but it was filled with water. He said the only way for him to sneak me into the Netherlands was in that compartment. I spent six hours underwater for him to get me somewhere safe. He only gave me a bamboo straw to breathe through my mouth. I swear to you it felt like days under there. He asked me if I had anywhere else to stay. I said no. He told me that his parents ran a farm near where we were back then. They took me in without question, treated me like their own family. So I helped them with their farm work in exchange for them letting me stay there. Things were fine for a few years. But then somehow my father found out that I was there and sent men to retrieve me.” Her eyes welled up and Mary was trying her best not to cry. But she continued her story. “That night was the first time I heard that song used against me. The jingle you were singing while entering the house. I think it was their signature song, they will sing this song before killing someone. They killed his parents like they were nothing.” she started crying. “Like they were nothing, Ben!” she bawled. “I’m so sorry, Mary. I had no idea you went through all of these,” Ben said. He stood up and put his arms around her and hugged her tightly. “You don’t need to tell me anymore if you don’t want to. I hate seeing you cry. In fact, this is the first time I’ve seen you cry,” Ben started to rock their body left and right gently. Mary hugged her back and continued crying. “If I heard the song, would that make me a target?” Ben asked. Mary ceased and snapped back to her senses. Her face went white. “Umm, we have to get out of here. Now!” she dismayed. “Get the kids, I’m driving.” Ben hurried himself upstairs to Sarah’s bedroom only to find her sitting on her bed gun against her head by a man in a ski mask. “Call her up here now,” the man ordered. “Where’s David? Where’s my son?” Ben cried. “I said call her to come up now!” the man screamed. Ben stood there frozen. His leg would not move, his arms would not reach, and his mouth would not open. He had never been in this situation before so his brain could not compute what his next move should be. “Fine I’ll do it myself,” the man said and shot three bullets through the ceiling. Mary rushed upstairs after hearing the gunshots. After seeing what Ben had seen, she immediately pointed her gun towards the man in the ski mask. “Let her go,” she commanded. “Oh lookie here, little Marie has a gun now. You clearly didn’t know what you married into huh, *Ben*?” the man mocked. “Let my family go, it’s me that you want. Let them go!” She yelled. “The song has been sung. Someone has to die. So who is it gonna be, Marie?” taunted the man. “Me,” Ben said. “Please don’t hurt any of my family,” Ben pleaded. “I heard that little story, she told you downstairs, Ben.” the man said. “But that isn’t the full story. Did she tell you what happened to the farmer’s son? Oh boy, he got mad when he found out that his parents were dead and she got away with it. So he did what anyone with a cool villain origin story does. He found out who that girl was and managed to get in touch with her beloved father. He decided that he wanted to work for that girl’s father. You know, because he wanted to destroy things from the inside. Didn’t you notice why your father stopped looking for you, Marie? Because I managed to gain his trust. Can you imagine working for a guy that killed your parents? Thank god he didn’t find out until the last minute of his life. I told him everything about how I met you and how he sent his men to kill my family before putting three bullets on his chest and two on his brain. I decorated that office wall of his magnificently with his pink, pale, and stupid brain. But I didn’t wanna stop there. I had to find the girl who started this all. You. When I finally found you a few weeks back, I had this whole monologue prepared. And at the end of that monologue, I’m gonna find and shoot the one you love most. But then I learned that you had kids. That means I get to enjoy seeing you suffer more!” he screamed. While he was monologuing, Ben noticed that the man’s gun holding hand was pointed to nowhere. His brain finally computed his next steps. And when his hand wasn’t pointing the gun at Sarah, he ran as fast as he could and body slammed the man to the wall. When the man hit the wall, he accidentally fired a bullet. The bullet flies directly towards Mary, penetrating her right lung. “Nooo!” Ben screamed. He threw an uppercut punch to the man’s face, kicked his knee, and snatched his gun. Without even giving it a second thought, he shot the man’s kneecap and foot, Ben would’ve shot the man’s face off, but he is not a killer and couldn’t sleep at night if he did so. The man fell to the ground screaming and groaning and twitching in pain. “Sarah, go find David and I need you to run to Uncle Jerry’s house. Tell them there’s an intruder and call the police. Now!” Ben commanded. Sarah opened the closet’s door and took David, she managed to push David inside the closet when he saw a stranger in her room. Both his arms are clutching his knees, trembling back and forth. She grabbed his hand, pulled him up, and ran downstairs to exit the house and do what her father told her to do. Ben rushed towards Mary. She was sitting on the floor, her body was leaning on the wall, blood on her shirt, slack, and on the carpet. She was gasping for air, her lung had already collapsed. Ben did not know where on earth could he hold her fearing that a slight touch would hurt her more than she was experiencing right then. “You stay put, I’m gonna call an ambulance!” Ben said. “Yeah… no, in my condition, I think I’ll go for a run, haven’t done that in years," Mary replied sarcastically. "Stay here, I don't have much time," “But you’re bleeding a lot! More than when you’re on your monthly thing,” Ben replied with a hint of vibration in his voice, tears welling up in his eyes, and gave her a gentle smile. “Everything is going to be A-Okay. Let me call an ambulance for you.” “No, stay here with me, I can feel the blood filling my throa-” she coughed blood before finishing that sentence. “Alright, I’m gonna sit next to you,” Ben said, kneeling, and grabbed her hand, holding it tight. “I’m sorry I lied to you all these years, I was so scared that my father would find me, I didn’t know he had already died.” Mary said, gasping. “You know my life would’ve been easier if you had told me the truth right?” he replied jokingly. “I could’ve hung out with friends, played some fantasy football, you stole my mid life youth from me.” “What friends?” she asked. They both laughed. Ben didn’t know what to say, so he just looked at her and she did the same. They both knew this was going to be the last moment they’re gonna be together. Mary looked out the window. The moon was really full tonight, decorated with a curtain of stars with a few blurred clouds tainting that image. “I really am sorry, Ben,” she pleaded “After hearing your origin story, I wouldn’t blame you even if you were a villain.” Ben cried. But things got quiet. Her eyes are still open and gazing out the window. But there was no heartbeat, no breathing patterns, her chest stayed the same. She was gone and Ben knew it. He sat there next to his dead wife crying, wiping his tears with his arms and sleeves. He wanted to scream but he had no energy left, he was physically and mentally exhausted. He just sat there crying. There’s nothing more he could do. “Ben!” shouted someone from downstairs. He heard footsteps stomping up the stairs. Jerry then came out of the corner of his eyes. He was carrying his son’s baseball bat. He saw Ben sitting on the ground, nose red, eyes wet, he took a glance next to him to see Mary, but she wasn’t moving, he saw all the blood. He put things together when he saw the man in the ski mask at the other corner of the room. The man wasn’t unconscious, he just sat there quietly, no one knew what he was thinking at that moment. Did he finally find the clarity after killing Mary, or did he feel remorse, no one knows. Jerry rushed to the man and took one swing to his head and rendered the man unconscious. Jerry felt the man’s heartbeat to make sure he wasn’t dead and he gave three good kicks to the stomach afterwards out of anger. “Ben… “ Jerry said, he couldn’t ask if he was okay, and he couldn’t ask what had happened here because he already assumed that this man was a robber trying to rob them. “I don’t know what to do now Jerry, I really don’t,” Ben said, “Mary’s gone,” he quivered. Jerry didn’t say anything after that, he inspected the window the man probably had come from. He saw a ladder straight to the ground from Sarah’s window. “Your kids are safe. They’re with Julia next door. My team will be arriving here soon,” he said. Jerry is a police officer, and Julia is his wife. Ben and Jerry weren’t close but Julia and Mary were since they’re both housewives and spent most of the afternoon together gossiping about other neighbours. “Thank you…” Ben said. It’s the only thing he could say. The police came a few minutes after that. They took Ben outside and tried to ask him a few questions while the other teams were securing that place. But Ben didn’t answer, he just kept gazing through the ground. People came out of their houses to get a glimpse of what was happening. They put Mary’s body in a body bag and took her away to the coroners. He heard tiny footsteps crunching near him, It was Julia. “I’m sorry for your loss, Ben” She said. Ben did not answer, but he nodded. “How’s my kids doing?” he asked. “They’re napping on the couch inside the house,” she replied. “Did you know she wasn’t blind? Mary, She wasn’t blind at all,” Ben said. Julia stood there quietly because she already knew that. She knew all of Mary’s story. A Few hours had passed, and the police, forensics, and all were gone. They had done their job there. Ben went inside his house and he saw the bloodstain in Sarah’s room, so grabbed a bucket full of water, squished some soap in there and grasped the sponge, and started scrubbing the blood stain with soap water. While he was cleaning it, he kept thinking how he grew up an orphan, he had nobody except the people at the orphanage. They helped him get through school, he managed to get a job, and pay for college, and met Mary a few years after graduation. He found out that she also had no parents. He felt like they were made for each other. Together they could fill the void they have been feeling since they were a kid, and promised that that will never happen to their kids. “Hey,” Jerry said, while walking up the stairs. “I’m just checking on you, if you need anything…” “After what has happened to me tonight, they could at least help clean off this blood stain,” he chuckled. Tears welled up in his eyes again.


We hit the road early in the morning all packed and prepared. Highway was nearly empty at that hour, only a few cars blasted past. Morning sun shone through the windshield and heated the inside of the car, so we opened the windows to let in some of that morning chill. In exchange, we let out the music. Radio roared high and our voices with it even higher. Bottle of vodka was circling among the passengers. I always declined, being the driver. It was fine. They got comfortably drunk, and that only injected more flavour to the atmosphere we were building in that little car. The full-blown drunkenness with screaming and howling and jumping and crying would come, as it always has – but later. We had the destination in mind and the music in the chest and the booze in the stomach and all connected us to the *place*. I love the sunshine on my face. I wore sunglasses with red tint, and they made the world look grand. Massive clouds on the horizon spiralled and danced on the richly coloured background. Everything seemed so out of this world out there and even the road that leads there emits some of that magic. All the roads do – everybody rides their own road and brings their own spirit. I love that – one of the very few times when I do love the humanity and the collective. That’s maybe the reason I love returning there so much. When we saw the big tents for the first time, the car already smelled of spilled vodka so much that if the cops stopped us, I’d probably get busted anyway. It was fine though. I knew that it wouldn’t happen, not today and not for a few days to come. The laugher and the singing that filled the car protected us. By the time we started recognizing the tents the highway was packed with cars. I usually get agitated by such traffic, but these people were the same kind as the bunch of drunks I was driving, same as me. We took the exit towards the field. It was filled with people, barefoot and semi-naked, with painted faces and painted bodies, with high crowns and broad hats and shining eyes. We turned the radio off, but the music remained. Morning chill made way to the summer breeze and we felt great. I parked the car on the field, had a mouthful from the nearly empty bottle and we were good to go. The moment we stepped out of the car we became the crowd, and we were barefoot, and some girl painted on my face. We finished the bottle while erecting our tents. The grass smelled sweet and we ate some oranges and grapes, and somebody gave us a wineskin. To make Bacchus proud, he yelled. We will, we yelled back. The runway that separated the tent city onto two halves was gathering everyone like a great artery, and all were streaming towards the giant stages that towered over the area. They were like temples for us, for those few days. We gathered there and sang and danced. We lost the wineskin very soon – I think it went to spread the word of Bacchus somewhere else. After all, it is very wise. We were still going strong when the first beams of sunrise transformed the milky fog of the dawn into a halo of light. You could hardly see the stage, but the performers where right there, up to the ankles in the mist. All the man needed to make us move was a single trumpet, welcoming the sun.


There once was a mouse. A little yellow mouse. There once was a man. A red man. Angry, but a silent man. The yellow mouse dreamed of sailing The Big Sea. He wanted to sail to the end of the Sea and touch the setting Sun. The red man wanted to scream. But whenever he opened his mouth, nothing would come out. The yellow mouse was a glass half full kind of mouse. Life treated him all right, and he treated life the same way. Not a lot of ups, but not a lot of downs either for this little mouse. The red man had a big head, which kept getting bigger and bigger. He wanted to paint but didn’t know how to. He tried learning it, but it made his head swale up. The yellow mouse saw a fairy once. She told him the secret to life. The red man saw a doctor. The doctor ran tests and told the red man about a new experimental treatment for head reduction. The red man applied for the treatment. The yellow mouse worked at a restaurant, near his house, for as long as he could remember. He was good at the job, and he got great tips. The red man couldn’t keep a job. Every job made his head bigger, and his skin redder. The yellow mouse was a single dad. His wife left him some time after giving birth to their twin boys. He loved them very much, and they loved him very much as well. The red man had two ex-wives and no children. Relationships made his head inflate like a birthday balloon. The yellow mouse had a friend, who was a doctor. The doctor was also a Big Sea enthusiast, and they would talk about it for hours on end. The red man started the therapy. The doctor would hook up tubes, going from the red man’s head to a machine. The machine would then transform thoughts into shapes, patterns, and colors on the monitor. For the first couple of sessions, there was only random big black lines and awful color. The yellow mouse was saving for a boat all his life. Even though being a single dad, and getting his kids through school and college, every month he would put money into the savings account. The red man’s head kept getting smaller as the treatment went on. After a while, the lines made shapes, and color started to fit those shapes. The yellow mouse had four more years until retirement. By then, he would have saved enough money to buy the boat and sail The Big Sea until he touched the setting Sun. The red man didn’t feel like screaming anymore. He marveled at the objects being painted by the machine. He sometimes even cried. His head shrunk to an almost normal-sized one and even his redness started to go away. The yellow mouse became yellower as the years went by. But, in a short amount of time, he rapidly became very yellow, almost orange. So, he called his friend, the doctor. The doctor ran tests and got the results. Sadly, there was no cure for the yellow mouse’s disease. The now regular-sized head and a fair-skinned man was done with the therapy. He thanked the doctor and went directly to the art shop. He bought himself a painting kit, and after coming home, immediately started to paint. The now pale-orange mouse kept getting weaker. After a while, he couldn’t do his job anymore. He stayed at home, watching television and sleeping a lot. And he dreamed about The Big Sea and the Sun. The ex-red man saw a fairy. She told him the secret to life, but he already knew that. When he finished the painting, he went and gifted it to the doctor. The mouse was now bedridden. All the money he saved up went to the medical bills. His sons would take turns taking care of their old man. Sometimes, their wives and kids would come and help as well. Seeing all of them made the mouse happy. One evening, there was a knock on the door. It was the doctor. He went upstairs to see the mouse. The mouse noticed that his friend, the doctor, had a strange look on his face. The doctor was holding a painting. The doctor talked with the mouse for a while, and then, tore the wrapper and showed the painting to the mouse. The mouse cried, and the doctor cried too. The room was filled with all possible emotions. It was the most beautiful painting of The Big Sea the mouse had ever seen. There was a boat at the end of the Sea, and there was a small, black mouse, stretching his arms and legs, touching the setting Sun. The mouse finally stopped crying and smiled, as his soul reached the Sun.


It was just after the first big fundraising event of the year that Tom decided he wouldn't ride the skateboard to work anymore. After the fiasco with the paving crew and the tar fire he thought he shouldn't risk it. The Fire Chief had said that the all the guys in the crew were "good people," and wouldn't press charges but he wasn't sure, it had all happened so fast, and so he thought it best to avoid skating, at least for awhile. The problem that then emerged was he began having to walk to work. His shoes were worn through and the pavement was scratchy and bumpy. Tom knew he needed a fix. He stopped at the hardware store about halfway to the office. Tom approached the red-vested clerk at the register. "Any shoes?" he said. Just these." The clerk pointed at his own feet, no smile. His joke hung in the air like corrugated aluminum. Tom looked around. He had never been one to give up, and this sartorial matter was one he knew he could think his way through. He thought about wrapping his feet in a burlap sack, or maybe some heavy-duty trash bags. *There are many things one could use for shoes*, he thought. Tom wanted just the right thing though. He looked at the grill lids. "Too big!" he cried. He looked at the mouse traps. "Too small," he murmured. Finally, he found what he was looking for. The Croc knock-offs were extruded from plastic beads in a factory far, far, away. The hardware clerk had forgotten about them, his daily realm one of cash, candy, and copying keys, so far removed from the garden supplies in aisle 18. The croc-like footwear had holes much like Tom’s own shoes, but these holes were on the top rather than the sole, offering some nice ventilation for his toes and ankles. They looked leisurely, like a La-Z-Boy Boy for his lower half. Tom knew. These were what he needed. He headed to the register. "I'll wear them out." Tom said. The laconic clerk nodded and watched him leave. A new spring in his step, he headed for the office, the unique character of the new orange not-crocs inspiring different and exotic feelings in those Tom passed along the way. "Are you really wearing those?" said his silver-haired boss. The boss's diamond earing glittered in the glare from the window. "Wearing what?" "Crocs." They're not-crocs." "Oh. They look like them." "They're not Crocs." "You're crazy man." The not-crocs inspired Tom to partake in many activities that he formerly avoided. Rather than skateboard by the local garden patch, he would stop and weed on his way home, bending over in the not-crocs. Sometimes, instead of heading out to get a falafel, he would just microwave a hot pocket, then sit in his papasan chair and read a novel, balancing the paper-plated hot pocket on his bright orange shoe. *These not-crocs have really taken me to some places I never thought I'd go*, Tom thought, as he snapped a picture of the triceratops in front of the natural history museum. "Back in the day, I'd have just skated by this place, I thought it was just a playground for 8-year-olds. There’s a lot of history here though. And look at the way the light reflects off the bronze bony frill. What an amazing sculpture," he mumbled, talking softly to himself as he snapped another shot of the majestic dinosaur. "Come with me sir." the Capitol Mall policeman took Tom by the arm. The officer had been watching Tom take photos of children climbing on the bronze triceratops for the last two minutes. Any man wearing bright orange Crocs can't be up to any good, he thought, reaching for his handcuffs. "Wait! What did I do?" Tom said. "Sir, why are you taking pictures of children? Are any of them yours?" "No.


I added one more mark to the ever growing images of lines on the wall. Seven hundred days, that’s how long I had to stay here. That’s how long it would be before I saw the sunlight again. I wasn’t one of the lucky ones who had a cell with a window. The only view I got was the dark walls of my jail cell and the interior walls of the prison. Every once in a while I got a glimpse of light when the guards brought a new prisoner in, or took one out. But it was mostly just the same old moss-covered brick walls and cracked cement floor. One large light hung from the ceiling in the middle of the jail that did little to illuminate the cells. The first few nights here had been torture. I hated the dark. All kinds of hideous creatures came out in the dark. Beasts with fangs, claws, and a hunger for death. At least being in jail meant I was safe from those kinds of monsters. Meals were delivered twice a day, when they remembered. I learned early on to save a little food each day, just in case the guards didn’t feel like feeding us. Even when they did feed us, it was never enough. My stomach constantly grumbled for more food, but I had little to give it. I counted each mark on the wall three hundred and seventy-five. Halfway through with my stay in this rotten place. A mouse scampered across the floor, making me shriek. You would think after all this time, I would be used to the mice and rats, but I still found myself squealing every time one of the small four legged creatures raced across my cell. It was hard to keep track of the days when you lived in a place where you couldn’t see the sun or moon. I was warned to make a mark on the wall every day. If I missed one, the count would start all over again. Apparently, the wall was magical, and when your time was up, it would open the door automatically so you could leave. It was a good set up as long as you didn’t miss making a mark. Thankfully I had made friends with one of the lucky prisoners who had a view of the outside. He would stick his arm through the bars and wave when darkness came. As far as I know, none of the other prisoners knew what we are doing. The guards either don’t know or don’t care, it’s hard to tell with that bunch. An arm waved through the cell directly across from mine, and I made another mark on the wall. Every mark meant one day closer to leaving. I waved back to thank him. A jail cell door slid open, and the voice of a man crying with joy drifted to my ears. Someone was getting out. An older man in his late forties hobbled past my cell. His clothes were tattered and torn, faded and paper-thin as they hung from his skeleton of a body. It made me wonder how long the poor man had been here. The large wooden door that separated us from the rest of the world swung open, and a guard pulled the man through to the other side. I frowned as I thought about how they always knew when someone was at the door waiting. Maybe there was a bell that dinged when a jail cell door opened. I shook the image of the old man and the door from my mind. Best not to think about freedom. I still had a long way to go before I could achieve it. I studied the wall, counting my marks. Four hundred thirty. I was getting closer. The guards had skipped giving us our meals yesterday, which was unusual. They never missed giving us both meals in one day. Good thing I had saved that piece of stale bread from my meal yesterday. It wasn’t much, but something was better than nothing. I choked down the last of my bread and swallowed the last gulp of my water. I hoped tomorrow the guards would bring us at least one meal. My clothes no longer fit, I had lost so much weight. Hunger constantly gnawed at my stomach, and I wondered if I would ever be full again. A waving arm from across the large room had me rushing to make my white mark on the black wall. Five hundred and ninety-seven. I did some quick math in my head. Only one hundred and three days left to go. Joy filled my heart for just a moment. I could almost taste my freedom. What joy it would be to feel the warm sun on my face again or to see the stars shining in a clear night sky. I shivered with anticipation. I wonder if anyone will be waiting for me on the other side of that door. My mother, or father maybe. Or even my brother Jeffery. Even though we didn’t agree on much and argued more than we got along, I still missed him. I sank down into the squished worn-out pallet that was meant as a bed and pulled the ratty blanket up to my chin. Would my family even recognize me after all this time? I fell asleep that night with horrid dreams filling my mind. As I lie on my pallet, I watched in horror as the guards stormed in through the one wooden door and forced open a jail cell door with a silver key. What little food I had in my stomach almost came up as they dragged the dead body of an older man out of a cell and through the door that led to freedom. A tear slid down my cheek as I thought about how his family would never see him again. After all this time here, did he even have a family out there to miss him? The wave from the prisoner brought me no joy tonight as I made my mark. Six hundred and ninety-five. I was almost there. Fear knotted itself inside me, making it impossible to get excited about my upcoming release. I spent the next few days lying on my pallet, watching the mice scamper around looking for crumbs. On the last day of my imprisonment, I stared at the wall and counted, then recounted the marks. Six hundred ninety-nine. Tonight was the night the metal cell door would slide open, and I would walk through the wooden door to freedom, to the sun. I paced the small area waiting for that arm to wave at me from across the large area. When finally it did, I could hardly bring myself to strike the last white mark. My hand shook as I placed the chalk on the wall. Then with a deep breath, I confidently flicked my wrist down and smiled as the comforting white mark appeared. I stepped back from the wall and turned to face the metal door. Nothing happened. My smile faltered as I spun back around to face the wall. Only one mark stood out against the black wall. All the other white lines were gone! Dropping to my knees, I wailed like a baby. How could this have happened? What did I do wrong? A guard appeared at my door, startling me out of my self-pity. “You have cheated and used the help of another inmate. For that, the prison is punishing you with seven hundred more days.” He spun on his heels and left. I buried my head in my hands and sobbed. Seven hundred more days felt like an eternity.


“There is a difference between taking a life and killing someone. You can take a life and leave the person alive, yet a husk of who they were. A wandering corpse not yet dead. The people who have had their lives taken slunk through the streets just like everybody else, sit behind their desks like everybody else, yet all they feel is the sweet bliss and nothingness that is want of death. What of those who took their lives in the first place? They are left showing humanity the very depths it can reach. The people who take a life from another serve the same purpose as staring into a mirror and whispering words of discouragement to yourself softly, letting your warm breath graze the glass, leaving fog as the hate spews. To take another's life you must be willing to take your own. To commit an act that can leave a person a husk of themselves requires you to be a husk yourself. The problem is you can never tell a husk from a person. Someone who still feels human and actively acknowledges the lives and existence of others and someone who does not look the same. You may ask yourself, what do we do with the people who take lives? Well in all honesty there is no right answer. No way to fix a person beyond repair. No god who can heal enough, no medicine that can cure well enough, no ale that can make you forget enough. What do we do with the people who take lives and what do we do with ourselves are the same questions. We all create husks, we will all become husks, and as the soles on our feet turn to sand as we walk our endless prisons, clinging to the ethereal nights, we will finally be set free in the realization this is the punishment humanity must endure. There is no freedom in death. Only the entrapment of oneself. Like burning a teddy bear and then forcing the stuffing into a box. Once you see what lies beyond you will know. It is unfortunate. Very unfortunate. You will live long, and happy, and you will live this life with a person that you love and trust, and when you are finally at a ripe old age, where death feels like something you fully accept, they will die. They will die and leave you husk without ever meaning to hurt you. A fate I wouldn’t wish on the worst of humankind. I can not claim to know. I can not claim to understand the inner workings of death despite being death himself. It is the curse I bear to understand the human struggle. Humanity can learn every aspect of their being and still live in torture over the mind. The mind is a senseless object. A computer made of fat and flesh molded together to create nothing but chaos we interpret into meaning. Honestly the unknown of one's own mind should be enough to drive all of humankind into bumbling husks. Yet so many persist. So many breath without purpose, blink without love, speak without intent, and yet hold a will to live. Maybe I just don’t understand yet. I can not begin to comprehend the idea of life as a loveless and joyless slog. A long fall into the depth of mud and filth. Yet what is it to live? Some say to live is to breath and function and process light with your retinas. And that's true. That’s what being alive is. Yet it is not living. For one to live one must love not only themselves but others. To love is to live. Yet husks can love and be loved. A husk can feel the same way a human can. Yet they were made into a husk anyway. Weather intentionally or not the expression of love onto a person's self and onto other persons is to invite pain. Others can’t hurt you if you do not feel you deserve anything higher than pain. And you can not hurt yourself if you do not value your own being. To love is to be a husk. To love is to invite your own pain. Yet it is not worth living to not love. Humanity is in constant suffering not because of some wrath or pit of humankind, but because we can experience the best feeling known to man, we can love. Love is the ultimate pain. Sorry for rambling. I lost myself there. Right what was I supposed to tell you? Right I remember. You are dead. You experienced 10,428 sunsets, experienced millions of gust of winds, heard the sound of frogs outside your window on a warm summer's night 38 times, danced with pure and true emotion 5 times, experienced love and heartbreak 3 times, and danced with the idea of death 77 times. Now you’re here, a husk of who you used to be. I was told to give you one memory to live in, just for a while, before I take you. Before you become even less than a husk. “ Your eyes open at a small apartment. A cat sits near the television, rubbing it’s fur gently against it. The couches blanket have been draped messily over it, dishes sit unwashed in the sink, plants shine a dark glossy green in the corner, the fan spins slowly and quietly around the room, the stars and the moon shine through the window. You remember them. You rest your hands gently on their hips, they rest their hands around your neck, you sway back and forth. The room fades away slowly. Each piece of the memory turns to dust and ash before your very eyes. It’s just you, dancing with no one, in an infinite white void. You stop dancing and rest your arms at your side. A soft gust of wind blows by and you feel like you can almost hear the ruffling of a tree's leaves. Then you can’t feel anything at all.


[FN] The sewing machine hummed along rhythmically, white thread stitching white fabric together. Colorful hands painted with tattoos guided lace and silk where it needed to go; a yellow duckling wrapped in filligree on one hand and an exaggerated cartoon style needle and thread, bobbin and pincushion on the other; the fingernails, shortened by nervous teeth, worked a heavy dark blue fabric through the machine. Nine hours. She scowled at the old fashioned alarm clock, willing it to turn back. Time manipulation still wasn't part of her repertoire. Unfortunate. Nine hours... She had been working at this set of dresses for six weeks straight now; last minute jobs weren't something she normally made a habit of taking on but the client had been willing to pay an exorbitant sum of money, easily making it her most lucrative project ever. The wedding was in two days and this dress still had to be fit to the final bridesmaid, but Allison had never missed a deadline and wasn't about to start now. She clicked the machine off and pulled the elastic from her auburn hair, letting the tension in her scalp bleed away then leaned back and straightened her shoulders, hearing them pop as she did so. "Hey there quazimodo. How's it coming?" Allison grabbed a roll of thread, spun toward the door as quick as she could and launched it toward the voice with fervor. It sailed wide and thunked into the wall a foot from her intended target. A chuckle and grinned at her. "Nice throw A-Rod." Danny stood in the doorway holding a plate with a peanut butter and jam sandwich in one hand and two cups of coffee in paper take-out cups from the cafè around the corner snugged into a cardboard carrying tray in the other. "One cream, one sugar. The left one." She reached. "No no. My left." Allison accepted the coffee and sandwhich with a smile. "Thanks babe, it's like you're inside my brain." Her stomach grumbled at the sight of the food. She hadn't even realized she was hungry. He looked at the incomplete pile of dark blue fabric dangling from the machine as he sipped on his own coffee. "Looks like you'll be done today?" "Yeah, maybe mid afternoon." She told him between bites and sips of coffee. "I'm going to call Angela to come and do a quick test fit later. Could you tidy the kitchen and sweep the floor please?" "Aye m'lady, I could." He smirked. "Thank you for the coffee and food, love. I need to get back to work." Allison had worked late into the previous night and been up before dark this morning. She was tired and her patience was gone but she felt much better with some food and a bit of caffeine in her. "It would appear that I've been dismissed."he said with mock disappointment. He frowned outwardly but a hint of a smile played in his eyes. Allison scrunched her brow and stuck out her tongue at him before spinning around and returning to her task. She sent a text to Angela when she had a better idea of when she would be completed and then returned to her work for the rest of the day, from time to time breaking long enough to stretch and again when Danny brought another cup of coffee and a plate of fruit. At 5:32 and fifteen seconds precisely, there was a knock on the door. Danny's footsteps echoed through the apartment and then a woman's voice drifted down the hall, faint but distinct. Right on time. She pulled the finished dress from the sewing machine and held it in front of her just as a smiling pixie face with a head of short blue hair poked itself around the corner. A loud sqeak erupted from Angela. "So pretty!" Her eyes were wide and she gasped as she stepped into the room. The deep blue, almost black fabric seemed to ripple with light, like a shadowy ocean floor. "Can I try it on?" She was almost giddy. "That's why I called you." Allison respond with a bit of sarcasm in her tone. "Oh, right!" Angela laughed a bit sheepishly. "Here." Allison hung the dress on a wall hook and stepped past her to close the door. "You look exhausted." Angela commented as she pulled the t-shirt that she was wearing off and then removed her jeans before pulling the dress over her head. "Well, it's been a bit of a rush job and I wanted to finish early in case there were any problems." And a rush job it had been. Four bridesmaid dresses in a week and a half. Sixteen hour days. Four thousand pounds of coffee. But the end was in sight now. Tomorrow she would inspect the dresses for imperfections and that would be it. Done. Fini. Terminado. "Yeah, sorry about that. I really am sorry about springing this on you last minute." "Its alright. I can take a few days off after this. How is Denise anyway?" "Still in the hospital. It was a pretty bad accident." Denise was the bride's mother in law and one of the best seamstresses in the state. The wedding had been on short notice to start with and so Angela hadn't been upset nor surprised when they offered the job to someone like Denise. But she was old school. Traditional. She didn't enhance her work the way Allison could. "She says she's going to escape if they don't release her today and she probably would. The surgery went really well but they want to make sure everything is healing." Angela pulled the dress over her head and smoothed the rumpled bits along her hips. "It fits great. How does it look?" "Pretty damn good. Now for the final touch." She reached for a short, loose thread hanging inside the collar and pinched it between her thumb and finger. Her lips became thin and tight. Her eyebrows furrowed a slightly. The thread began to shimmer and then a faint silvery luminescence traced it's way along the stitching of the dress as she had intended to reveal an intricately embroidered flower motif, with an old world Ukrainian flair. The glowing thread had a slightly iridescent quality, shimmering as Angela moved around the dress. "It looks like the bottom of the sea." She marvelled, running her hand over the fabric. "That is so cool." "Want to see the rest of them?" "Of course I do." Allison opened a closet and took out three identical dresses, hanging them from pegs on the wall and then grasped a loose thread on each infusing and illuminating the thread to reveal the embroidery that she had spent so many sleepless nights on. The first was of a red fox on the skirt. It's tail was coiled round it's legs while the head tilted ever so slightly, as if looking at a particularly interesting blade of grass or an unaware and unattended chicken. The fur was finely detailed and and the light rippled as she watched it, blowing in the faintest of breezes. The thread in the fur was a deep red and the glow was only faintly visible, giving the animal a subtle bit of color. The second dress was a raven perched upon a branch. Allison had sewn a deep yellow thread into the eye that was almost lifelike when it luminesced. It to looked at you, into you, and through you no matter where you stood. The final dress had, sewn into it, a group of waves cresting in a traditional Japanese style. The whitecaped crests of the waves shimmered and Angela was reminded of a vacation to to the Oregon coast that she had taken with her family years ago. All that was missing was the smell of the salt air, and the drying seaweed. The sound of the crashing waves. The call of the gulls on the rocks. Angela was silent as she studied the dresses, leaning in close and inspecting the stitches and glowing thread. "These are amazing. Diane is going friggin' love them!" She gushed. "Let me guess. Kaylee." She pointed at the first dress. "Meghan." The second. "Tatsuki." "Yup! And I hope she does. If I'd had more time I could have done more." "Oh shut up." She gave her friend a reproachful look. "You're always so modest and these are perfect." Angela got a twinkle in her eye then. "Soooo... can I see the brides dress?" Allison grinned. "Hell no. You'll wait like everyone else. I'll give them a once over tomorrow then bring them to you guys Saturday morning." "Perfect. I'll text you the address when I get home." "Well you just got here so you aren't leaving yet. I'll get Danny to make us some coffee or tea or something." "I'd love that." Allison opened the door and yelled down the hall, "Dammit Dan! Make us some coffee!" A terrible British accent called back sounding more than a little bit like Mrs. Doubtfire. "Coming right up deary!" They laughed together and Angela called out the door. "Thank you! You're a dear and I love you!" "Hey lady, get your own man." Allison giggled. There was more banter and more laughter as Angela changed back into her own clothes. The dress was hung in the closet next to the others. The floor was swept. Four paper coffee cups were gathered up along with two porcelain ones and a number of plates. Odds and ends of scraps of fabric and rolls of thread were returned to their proper homes or thrown out. "Coffee's ready." Andy's torso was leaning half in the door. "Thanks love." Allison grinned. She pulled a now stuffed bag from the garbage can as Angela set the broom back into the corner. "So just out of curiosity, do you know any single guys with a snappy suit ready to go on short notice?" Her tone was coy, probing. "Wait, what? What happened to Marcus?" Allison was downright shocked. They'd seemed to be perfectly pleased with each others company. She supposed you never could tell what might be going on with people. "Well, things were going great... until they weren't." Offering no further explanation but a furtive glance away, not making eye contact as she pulled her shirt over her head. "Oh geeze. I'm so sorry." "Don't be. We weren't right for each other. Though I do find myself dateless for the wedding now and it's pretty short notice." She pulled her hoodie on and zipped it up while Allison tied off the garbage bag and added a fresh one to the bin. "OK, well let me think." "I was going to ask if maybe your brother, Antony, was free?" "You didn't hear, did you?" "Hear what? Its been a few years since I've talked to him." "He was engaged with a baby on the way. She died giving birth and his daughter passed a week after the birth." "Oh my God. Is he doing ok?" "He's.... healing... I think. He went camping this weekend out to some lake they liked to hike to. Looking for closure I think." "That's so awful. I can't even imagine." And she couldn't. Angela had never really lost anyone close to her so far as Allison knew. Even her grandparents were still healthy enough to make trips to Florida for the winter. Allison felt a welling of emotion constrict her throat. She was supposed to have a niece and new sister now but the world was indifferent to the wants of decent people. It wasn't fair. Seeing her brother lately, she knew the grief was swallowing him as much as he tried to put on the brave, stoic face. Change the subject she thought and forced herself to speak. "Let's not talk about that right now though. We need to find you a date." Allison gestured toward the door. "Shall We?" She switched off the light and closed the door behind them, leaving the fox and the flowers and the raven and the waves to cast their pale glow.


Monsteropolis, September 4, 2020 Yesnia St. Cloud could barely contain her excitement the higher up she and her traveling companions flew. They were just about to breach the clouds that led to her hometown, and she couldn’t wait to introduce her surface friends to her Overworld friends and family! It had been too long since the young witch had been back to visit her hometown, and she couldn’t wait to introduce her folks to her new fiance! At the ripe old age of 27, she had finally met the love of her life in Felix “Freak” Fernandez. Yesnia St. Cloud-Fernandez has a good ring to it! “So… Why is Monsteropolis high up in the clouds? The vast amount of media would have you believe that most monsters lived in Transylvania and in black lagoons and stuff like that. Earthbound, if you will.” The pint-sized gnome artificer Artia Flameborne asked the current leader of the party. The jets in her boots were working double-time to keep up with the sleek new Duskbreaker 3005 broom that Yesnia was riding with unbridled glee. Behind her was her beloved Freak, clutching her waist for dear life and trying in vain not to look back down towards the rapidly-shrinking planet beneath them. “I’ve been asking myself that since we left the ground!” he piped up with tears streaming down his face. “Isn’t there some sort of giant escalator or… What about a hot air balloon?? Something where my feet can be squarely under me?” “Oh hush, Freaklin. Artia is coming along so she can set up a high-speed teleporter at my parents’ house so we never have to do this scenic sky trip again… Unless I feel like it!” She said before releasing a cackle that pealed through the clouds like thunder. With a snap of her fingers, she had the dramatic lightning to accompany the raucous laughter. “Yesnia!! Chill with the lightning! We’re all flying types right now and not all of us can just shrug off the fury of Raijin!!” screamed Yumi Kuromori over the crackling of the lighting above them. She was usually the toughest customer in the group, but the lightning had her trembling like a leaf in the strong arms of her lover and close friend, Allegra Powers. “It’s okay, Yumes. We’re almost there. I’ll handle any lightning that comes our way!” Allegra reassured her in a loving tone. She smiled a smile so warm and bright that it instantly melted away any fears that Yumi may have had. They both leaned in for a kiss, but the attempt was abruptly interrupted. “Hey lovebirds, we’re here!” chirped a voice from behind the pair. It was Brin Monterey, holding on for dear life to the cape streaming from Allegra’s back as they finally pierced through the base layer of clouds that made up the “ground” for the Overworlders. The sign sticking out of the bottom of the clouds read: “Welcome to Monsteropolis! Population: 4,395 spooky individuals!” “Artia didn’t build you those phoenix boots to intrude on my love life, Brinny,” Allegra joked with her oldest friend in the universe as their heads started to poke through the stretchy upper layer of the stretchy ground that the Overworld was built on. She was actually a little glad Brin stepped in when she had, as she didn’t know if Yumi could catch the Halo virus, but she really didn’t want to chance it any more than she had to. “I helped design them AND your new suit there, Legs. You can’t just give all the credit to the magical gnome you met a couple of weeks ago.” The suit Brin was referring to emulated her natural powers while still preventing her from physically touching other people to spread the dreaded enhanced-targeting supervirus. “… And that’s why it was built up in the sky. Oh, we’re here! Welcome to my town, guys!! Monsteropolis!” Yesnia took a deep breath of the thin, crisp air as the group of five relative Earthlings she had brought with her were able to take in the sights of a city square whose only source of illumination other than the moon and the twinkling stars peppering the inky blackness above was the warm light of the fire burning inside a gigantic jack-o-lantern. Standing more than five stories tall and floating over a giant purple fire that smelled strongly of apples and cinnamon, each side of the gargantuan gourd was carved with the faces of the citizens of Monsteropolis. The four biggest faces on the giant pumpkin, sitting in a horizontal row on the pumpkin’s equator like a veritably monstrous Mount Rushmore were the cold, yet inviting gaze of Countess Lucinda Dracula, the awkwardly charming smile of Governor Adam Frankenstein (Formerly known as Frankenstein’s Monster), the fearsome countenance of General Lupe Alma de Lobos, and a the bandage-wrapped, mummified face of High Priest Imhotep. “Oh my gourd, that’s a big pumpkin!!” Allegra exclaimed as she carefully set Yumi down so she could get her first taste of actually walking on a cloud. A dense fog effect surrounded their feet as the “ground” stretched ever so slightly under their reduced weight. Freak, excited to finally be able to stand on his own, stretched his legs and leaped up high enough to get a better view inside of the giant pumpkin before realizing the lessened gravity meant he could easily get almost three-quarters of the way up the pumpkin with a single leap. “Oh, aces! I loooove the lack of gravity here! It’s like a giant bounce house!” “You’re not gonna join us on the cloud, Allegra?” Yumi asked with her arms crossed. Allegra had to laugh. “Nah babe, walking’s for suckers!” Everything was kosher until she felt her sorta-girlfriend’s glare piercing her soul like a thousand tiny daggers, causing her to drop to the “ground” immediately. “Juuuust kidding! Boy-oh-boy do I love walking hehe…” Bats flitted through the air, squeaking and fluttering their wings gracefully. The sound attracted the views of the group towards the closest unimpeded view of the full Harvest moon that any of them had ever seen before, excluding Allegra and Yesnia. “The moon looks so perfect up here. I can see every single crater and… Hold on, is that a colony on the moon??” Artia asked as the pair of goggles on top of her head flipped down automatically, zooming in telescopically to give her a clearer view of what she had always assumed was a barren rock in the sky. “Oh yeah, you didn’t know ‘bout the Lunarians? They tend to keep out of Earth business, but they’re super nice! I’ll take you to meet ‘em sometime.” Allegra chimed in. “Yeah, they’re our favorite neighbors! No offense, Earthlings… They invite us to their parties for different eclipses and all sorts of lunar holidays. We like to have them over for all sorts of Harvest festivals, especially Halloween! Oh, those moon kids looove candy, and their little costumes are so precious!” Yesnia’s eyes were full of stars and her orange irises glowed eerily with the brilliant light of the moon flowing through them. Freak’s hand waving in front of her face caused her to exaggeratedly snap out of her Harvest-induced stupor. She slid the handle of her broom into the handy holder strapped to her back before gesturing for the group to follow her. “Anywho, let me give you guys a brief tour on the way to the ‘rents place. I know all the coolest spots!” The party of six young adults set off into the chilly night air. It was the perfect hoodie weather, which Allegra, Yumi, Freak, and Brin were all warned of before making the 10-mile trip up to their vertical neighbors. Artia, however, was a walking radiator, giving off excess heat even in the absence of her loyal phoenix companion, Orryn. Today, her rusty red toolbox and the goggles that seemingly never left the top of her head would have to be her only aides. She was the only one bold enough to wear just a faded band t-shirt (It says “Magically Lucid”) and jeans in the chilliest environment any of them had personally been to. After a couple of minutes walking and chatting about various townsfolk that passed by on their way to living their lives, they happened upon a huge section of trees that were gnarled, withered, and almost entirely devoid of leaves. The moonlight shining through the branches cast wicked shadows over them as they approached, immediately unnerving most of the group. “Hey, what gives? Most of the other trees still have orange, red, and brown leaves up, why are these ones bare?” Freak looked upon the creepy forest that stretched for at least half an acre with apprehension, secretly hoping they wouldn’t have to go through it. “This is the Star-Crossed Woodlands!” Yesnia’s voice echoed across the thicket with incredible clarity, causing her to hush herself before continuing. “Legend has it that it was created during a bout between Dracula and a goddess of the land. When her life-giving plant-growth powers mixed with Dracula’s unholy blood, it created a single, massive weeping willow that ended up spreading its dark influence over the land around it. It stopped once it hit its current size, so we started building around it.” “You’re not worried that, like, those spooky roots could spread under your houses and roads and cause some real massive damage one of these days?” Yumi questioned as she tightened her hoodie around her face, a hard shiver running down her spine as she did so. She really couldn’t stand all this cold, but as soon as Allegra’s gloved hand grabbed hers, she was reassured everything would be okay. “Nah, we had some witches look into it and the potential to grow anymore has diminished over time. Now the only thing abnormal about this place is that it can be very tricky to get out. Looking up while you’re inside will actually show you the stars in the wrong position, constantly forcing you to travel in a spiral. More than a few people have perished from getting stuck like that. Since then, we put in a convenient trail of glowing mushrooms that show all of the available paths. Just DON’T. LOOK. UP. Got it?” Yesnia grabbed Freak’s arm and strolled casually into the spooky grove without a hint of fear. The rest followed with noticeable hesitation before seeing the blue row of glowing mushrooms on both sides of the well-worn path they were walking down. A gentle hum emanated from the fungi and it actually helped to alleviate their nerves a tad. All of their nerves besides Artia, of course. She was used to danger around every corner, especially when the world around her was trying to calm her. It felt like a trap, so she drew her sword, guarding the rear of the group and looking over her shoulder every couple of seconds. “You brought a sword??” Brin almost couldn’t believe it, but then she remembered who she was asking. “I ALWAYS have my sword. I’m surprised you didn’t,” Artia retorted. At one point, she’d been spooked by the rustling of some tree branches that turned out to be a rogue bat that was lost, even with its use of sonar. She swung at it and almost cut the poor thing in half before realizing what was going on and helping it out of the branches that had ensnared it. She ended up carrying it with them through the rest of the dreaded woods. “I think I shall call you Brana! Brana Bat. Fly free, you beautiful fool!“ Artia called out, releasing her new friend as the group finally stepped out of the Star-Crossed Woodlands. “Ah, fresh, non-haunted air,” “Artia, that forest isn’t haunted… Right Yesnia?” Freak questioned, receiving nothing but silence for a few too many seconds. “Oh no, it’s TOTALLY haunted. Like, abnormally haunted. One of the most haunted places on or around Earth. People who go missing anywhere on the planet a lot of times end up stuck there. We were being tailed by, like, 12 ghosts. I’m surprised you guys didn’t notice the humming!” The response was so nonchalant that everyone besides Freak who was being dragged along and Artia stopped dead in their tracks. “Told ya.” The half-pint wizard chimed in, sticking her tongue out as she sheathed her sword. “Listen, y’all; as soon as we get back home, I say we extort a big ol’ bottle of Curse-B-Gone from Leo. Agreed?” Allegra posited to the group in a hushed tone, taking their astonished nods as confirmation. “Oh shoot look, a rescue shelter! I should’ve taken Brana over there.” Artia pointed to a bright blue and white building with the words “Monsteropolis Rescue Center” in bold red print at the top. “Ah, don’t worry about it. Bats are like pigeons here. Besides, Brana wasn’t hurt, they just have a poor sense of direction with all the trees in the way,” Yesnia patted Artia on the shoulder, clearly sensing that she missed her Orryn. “Buuut, we do have some time to kill before we’re due at my parents’ house. Let’s check out the current residents? We get some really weird critters thanks to The Woodlands’ effect of pulling in anything that gets lost!” she said already heading over towards the building. “I’m game!” Yumi followed with a small hop in each step. “Oh, there’d better be some stuff that’ll blow my MIND!” Allegra floated behind, grabbing Yumi’s hips like it was the start of a conga line. “Absolutely!” Brin followed, ready for something less spooky to calm her nerves. “Haha what could it hurt?” Freak strolled in after the rest. Artia stayed behind for a brief moment before casting a little spell. She whispered something barely audible into her cupped hands, which started to glow with a faint light before releasing it into the night air. And with that, she turned to follow her comrades. When Artia got into the building, she was intrigued to see it almost resembled an Earthling hospital, but much smaller. She walked up to the reception desk and, with a well-placed jump, she was directed by an incredibly sweet Oni girl to the playroom. “Just follow the green line on the floor all the way to the back and you can’t miss it! Enjoy your time and consider adopting one of our misplaced cuties!” The rest of the group were already oohing and ahhing and playing around with a few incredibly strange species of animals that were unlike anything she’d ever seen before. Allegra was chuckling to herself and juggling a completely gelatinous teal creature with three eyes and no mouth that looked to be completely enjoying the experience in two eyes, although the other eye was starting to look nauseated. Yumi was crouched on all fours in a staring contest with a purple frog that she swore changed into a different animal the very second constant eye contact wasn’t kept on it. The creature bested her once more and only her shocked cry alerted Artia to the fact that the frog was now an orange hedgehog. “Oh, I’m coming back for this one! Imma call you Ryoshi!” She happily picked up the spiny orange critter and hugged it, but as soon as her eyes shut, she was holding a green mouse. Brin had her face pressed to an aquarium with a family of electric starfish whose lightning changed colors depending on the mood of the nearest creature. Currently, they were all emitting thin arcs of vividly vibrant violet electricity to reflect Brin’s awe and glee at the beautiful display going in. “How have you not been… Allegraaaa!!” “C’mon Brin, we JUST got Meo!” Allegra walked over with the semisolid creature wrapped around her neck like a feather boa. Yesnia was showing Freak a miniature shapeshifting creature that could turn into a tiny version of anything or anyone. Freak was alarmed that something so dangerous was just out and available to be played with. “Pfft, he can’t grow, Freaklin! So if he turns into you…” she held Freak’s face up close to the little dude who currently looked like the small green army man next to him on the floor. In a matter of seconds, he had completely turned into a near-perfect copy of Freak, minus the height of course. “Now how could I ever mistake him for my handsome Freakasaurus Rex?” “Y-yesniaaa!\~\~” Freak embarrassedly shielded the mini version of himself from seeing Yesnia pull him into a kiss that made Artia blush before she cleared her throat to bring the party’s attention back together. “It’s about time we headed out, it’s almost eight already!” On the way out, Brin and Yumi made plans to adopt their respective favorite pets on their way back. Allegra rolled her eyes the entire time they were signing papers, but she had to admit that she couldn’t think of much cooler pets to pick up than the two they had chosen. They headed off down the road, passing different street vendors and performers on their way towards the edge of Monsteropolis’ downtown. Once they were a few minutes past the hustle and bustle, the clouds beneath them started to ripple as a heavy wind kicked up seemingly out of nowhere. Accompanied by the near-deafening and unmistakable sound of powerful wingbeats, within seconds an imposing, shadowy figure had landed in front of them. The hulking humanoid turned, staring down the group menacingly with huge, glowing red eyes being the only facial feature they could recognize in the dark. Everyone instinctively hid behind Yesnia in fear as the creature began growling, but Allegra was beyond excited. “YOOO!!! You didn’t tell me THE Moth-Man lives here!! He’s a frickin’ legend back where I’m from!!” “Hey, Mr. Mothman! Lose the hyphen, Allegra. How’ve you been lately?” Yesnia walked up and gave the towering creature a hug as he started to clear his throat loudly before hugging her back. “Aggh, those thick clouds choke me up ev’ry time! I’m doin’ good, Yeshny! Ye’ve shertainly grown up shince I shaw ye lasht! Who are the normies? Well…” He said as he looked down to see a diminutive gnome, a girl with a frog tongue wrapped around her like a scarf, and a superhero flying towards him with an autograph book at the ready. “Moshtly normies, at leasht.” “Hi Mr. Mothman, I’m Allegra, huuuuge fan. Nobody on Earth has a solid consensus on what you look like besides your beautiful ruby eyes! But a moth head on a man’s body? That’s fascinatin’! And Scottish! I never would’ve guessed!! D’you mind signing my Book of Legends?” She held out a bundle of pens, each a different color, and a red bound leather book with gold leaf lettering with “Book o’ Legends” in a beautiful flowing script. “Alright then,” The Mothman picked up the neon pen and turned to a blank page in the middle to etch his name onto with scraggly, erratic strokes. “Anythin’ for a humie that doesn’t want to light me on fire or get me shtuffed for the ol’ mantle. Ye wee ones headed over to your folksh’ place? If so, could you drop shomethin’ off for me?” “We sure are! I’m going to introduce them to my fiancé. Freak, come say hi to Mr. Mothman!” Freak was hidden squarely behind Artia, which was impressive considering she was almost a solid meter shorter than he was even when she had her power armor on. If it weren’t for Yesnia’s keen sense of smell due to her witching heritage, he could’ve gotten away with it, but she plucked him like a daisy and presented her shivering groom-to-be to her old neighbor. “N-n-nice to m-m-meet you, sir…” The look of terror on his face was evident as he tried not to look too closely at the bulging scarlet compound eyes, the prominent feathery and slicked-back antennae, or the curled up proboscis behind the almost beak-like opening of a mouth the creature before him possessed. “… Are ye good kid? I promishe I won’t bite ye, it’s actually imposhible, I don’t have teeth!” A hearty laugh echoed out into the crisp night air as the Mothman thought his attempt at a joke would ease the tension. “Oh, don’t worry about him, he’s terrified of moths after an ‘accident’ as a kid,” Freak’s eyes went as wide as dinner plates at the mention of his accident. His mind was instantly teleported back to his 8th birthday in 1983, a day he had often tried to forget. He went completely white and grew incredibly cold and clammy as one of the worst days of his life replayed in his mind in glorious super 8mm quality. “He’ll be okay, it’s just gonna be a couple of minutes,” Yesnia sat her traumatized partner on the ground and knelt beside him, stroking his hair and holding him close to her. “What did you need me to drop off, by the way?” By this point, Allegra was gathering measurements on the Mothman, pulling his wings to get an accurate wingspan measurement, taking stock of his musculature, and even pulling out a pair of calipers to get a good head measurement. He didn’t seem to mind, treating her like most humans would an average moth flitting around them. “Ahhh, 27 centimeters. Interestin’ indeed…” She muttered, scribbling notes like mad in a different book. “Artia! Did you give her the measuring tape and calipers?” Brin questioned. “Just because I’m a scientist doesn’t mean I go handing out my equipment all willy-nilly!” the gnome retorted as she clutched her trusty rusty red toolbox. “And where are you getting all these books from??” Yumi asked as she used her tongue to snatch the tools from Allegra’s hands. “No more work, it’s bad enough you’re wearing your uniform on this little side plot.” “Wait, how did you know this was a side plot??” The utterance of the term “side plot had snapped Freak out of his dazed stupor. “I… Didn’t? It’s just a good term for a one-off adventure like this, no?” “Okay, I’ll tell them you said Happy Harvest. Bye, Mr. Mothman!! What a nice guy, eh? I can’t tell you how many times he helped me get my brooms out of the tree in our yard! That damn tree has eaten more good brooms than I can…” Yesnia turned back to the group in the middle of a weird argument about what constitutes a side plot when they noticed the disappearance of the large humanoid Lepidoptera and the fact that she was now carrying an awkwardly-shaped object that was wrapped in a sack made of silk. “What’s in the bag?” Brin asked, walking closer to get a better look at it. “Well I can’t let the proverbial cat out of the bag, but it’s gonna be really cool once everything’s set up. Anywho, my house is right down the street, let’s go!” The collective party walked until they came up to a huge 4-story gothic mansion that almost looked like a castle made of the oldest stones the Earth could provide. There was a beautiful run-down quality to the place. Multiple pointed spires topped the massive abode, stabbing the heavens themselves with crimson flags hauntingly dancing in the still night air like blood dripping from the moon’s pierced surface. The windows were alight with a ghastly golden light with flickering wispy figures phasing in and out of existence in them. Walking through the tall, dead grass of the front yard to get to the door, they could see a graveyard to the south of the house with a couple of creepy scarecrows that seemed to turn and watch them approach. “And you’re SURE this is the right house??” Yumi questioned just as Yesnia rang the doorbell. “DIIIIIING… DOOOOONG…” the doorbell sounded more like a church bell, mostly because it was. There was a giant bell in one of the spires that rang loudly to let the house, and the entire neighborhood for that matter, know when a guest had arrived. “Yep!” Yesnia said before a trap door opened up beneath them all, swallowing them all with a loud, collective scream of terror in an instant. All of them except Allegra, who was floating when the trap went off. “Heh! I told ‘em walking’s for suckers. See if I ever involuntarily fall for a trap door…” After a loud howl from what she thought had to be a werewolf, she shrugged and gently descended down after her friends. Partly to make sure they weren’t dead, but also because she definitely didn’t want to be left out here all alone.


I got a call at three o’clock in the morning on a Sunday and was pretty chapped about it. I had to work in the morning and could barely sleep as it is. “Hello?” “Hello, is this Mr. Kent?” The lady’s voice annoyed me. “Agh, yep.” I sounded short. “Brayden Kent?” “Yes” I started to worry but not the worry you get when you miss seven or eight calls from your mom. My mom was dead, as so was my dad. They were both pretty hard on themselves and croaked pretty early. “I’m sorry” the lady said, “your brother James and his wife, Amelia, were pronounced dead at 2:04am this morning.” “What?” “Your brother and his wife died in a car accident early this morning. I’m very sorry.” I was certain it was in a nightmare but hadn’t really had one in a while and also nightmares don’t feel particularly real after you hear news like that lady gave me. “Well, where?” Thinking back, it was a weird question to ask. I suppose she’d heard worse. “They had been changing lanes on the 401, near London, and collided with a semi. They were killed instantly.” I was close with my brother, but as you get older, people drift. I hadn’t spoke with him in over two months. “What about Lena?” I yelled. “Lena?” The lady annoyed me again. Len... fucking Lena! Their daughter!” “Sorry, their daughter is with protective services. I did not know her name.” “Where are they now?” “Lena?” She nervously responded. “No! My brother and Amelia?” “St. James Hospital sir.” I hung up, threw on my coat and boots, and sped to the hospital. I was sitting in the medical office crying when the doctor came in. “Hello, Mr. Kent. Again, I’m very sorry for your loss. I understand you’re the godfather of Lena?” “I am.” “She is one lucky girl then.” I remember hating that he had said that. The first year was tough. The amount of paperwork it takes to become the guardian of a kid who shares your blood is messed up. I mean... I was in a good space, responsible enough, and had a good paying job. I cried a lot. Lena cried a lot but not for her parents, I don’t think. She was a year and a half old when they got in the accident. She just cried over baby things like crankiness and teeth pain. I cried because she would never know her real parents. I cried because my brother died. I didn’t much cry for Amelia but cried for Lena. She started calling me dad at around three years old. I called her daughter to people I met; it easier that way. I started to realize that I didn’t have many friends before this, like the friends that would know I was Lena’s uncle. I guess I liked calling her daughter. We had gotten on pretty good by then. My brother always told me how he could never get sleep in Lena’s first year. I slept fine now. Lena would sleep with me often and I guess kids do that around three so it was nice. She started to do things that would remind me of James. Seeing pieces of him, in her, always put me in a good mood. She came to me once and asked why she didn’t have a mom when all the other kids did. “Where’s my mom?” Lena asked. She was starting to ask those questions kids start to ask. “She died, Lena.” I always told myself that if she ever asked that question, I wouldn’t lie to her. I was prepared and knew it was going to come anyway and knew that I would have to explain death. I didn’t expect the questions after though; pretty naive I guess. “What does that mean?” Lena said. “Well, it means she’s no longer around.” “Why?” “Well, we’re all eventually no longer around, but sometimes people are no longer around a little earlier, like your mom.” Lena looked confused but she was smart and didn’t cry or get sad but started thinking, going back to her colouring book but pondering something. “Dad?” “Yep.” I looked back at her after my mind had went to the tv. “Do people ever come back from being no longer around?” It was a question we all ask at one time or another. “Not this no longer around.” She looked back at her book and kept colouring. Lena’s hair was long now. Like to her shoulders so not that long. I took her to the park across from our house, which was her dad’s house, as he and Amelia left it to us. We didn’t live far away so it was no problem moving from my apartment to his house. I just had to maintain stuff now but always liked yard work. I used to always do it with my dad. I was still working my job, too. I always hear people talk about the fact that they have no alone time with kids but if I’m being completely honest, I always had alone time. She was old enough now that she would sleep in a bit and I would stay up later than her. I never had a problem adjusting to things in life. Her ninth birthday was coming up and I had planned a get-together with some of her school friends and their parents. I bought her a bike; a pretty good bike. She was pretty excited about it. She would ride it around the block, to her friends, and sometimes around the yard until it lost its appeal. “Dad, can I go over to Kat’s?” “Did you talk to her mom?” “Uh huh!” I phoned Kat’s mom and they were all playing in the backyard so it was all good. Lena rode her bike there. Kat lived two blocks away. I just hung out at home and watched some TV and ordered a pizza. Lena loved when I ordered pizza; she loved the corner pieces for some reason, those triangle ones. No one likes the corner pieces. I always saved them for her. She likes putting Parmesan cheese on her pizza and I liked putting hot sauce on mine. Lena thinks I’m crazy. She once accidentally had one of mine and started screaming and crying. I had a good laugh and she was so mad at me and didn’t talk to me for the rest of the night. Funny how mad she got pizza but I just thought it was cute. Lena doesn’t get mad too often. She’s rational and I like to think that she got that from me. She’s more interested in space and planets than she is in fairytales and ghosts. She was always asking me to put on Cosmos before she went to bed. I never complained. She read more than she played in the park. She liked to dance more than she liked to walk, and she asked way too many questions. Lena always made for a good conversation. She hopped on the hood of my car while I was leaving for work one day. She was laughing so hard, trying to stop me from going to work; I was so mad at her that I could have pulled away with her still there. She was thirteen now and it was a weekend so she could stay on her own. She was so easy to trust at home when I had to work the weekends. Lena was smart in school, smart in life, and smart with people. The years flew by like nothing and I was as much of a dad as the next guy with kids. I met Cam that year and we fell in love. She loved Lena as much as I did. Lena wasn’t happy with her to begin with but she eventually came around. Cam was an artist and Lena liked to paint so before I knew it, they were hanging out with each other more than with me. I guess that’s what you hope for in the beginning. I always thought it was weird how Cam didn’t want kids but then became Lena’s best friend in the blink of an eye. That’s how she goes. Cam was a health nut and I wasn’t so we started to eat real healthy. She tried to get me working out but I wasn’t having it. She laughed at me. We met older so changing someone for one’s own conveniences was not a thought. We accepted each other for who were were. I’d still order pizza for Lena and I. Cam also couldn’t resist it. “I’ll work it off tomorrow.” She would say with a laugh. I wasn’t the laughing type so we got on really good. I remember when Cam and I bought Lena her first car for her sixteenth birthday. She was so excited and wanted to drive it so we let her. It was dark outside but we kept to the local roads. She had a smile bigger than I’d ever seen before and was playing some music too loud on the stereo. We drove up a hill along one of the roads close to home and she parked to admire the city lights. I was so proud of her, not a lot of people admire city lights at sixteen. “I can’t believe you’re already sixteen.” I said. She just smiled, put the car in gear, and started driving, turning up the music too loud again. I pictured what life would be like if the same thing that happened to my brother happened to her. I quickly pushed that to the back of my mind. It was pretty surreal watching someone who could barely walk, when she landed with me, to now switching gears and turning corners in a car. We approached the driveway, Lena bottomed out the car, we laughed and she parked it. We both got out and shut the doors of the car. We slowly walked to the door and she hugged me a really big hug, like teenagers do when you get them something big. “Thanks, Uncle Brayden.” I could feel her head on my shoulder as I looked at our neighbour’s car in the driveway. She was so tall now.


OH goodness me! how in the sweet heavens did you manage to even get up here?.. that sounds incredibly reckless. I'm not quite sure what you planned on gaining by ending up here but kudos to you. I’ll chock it up to being so tiny and I bet the lack of fur and scales helped with your efforts. It is quite nice to have someone show up even someone of your species, since I haven't seen another soul of any kind in well over a thousand years... You want information? Well I assume i could tell the story of how we both got here, you deserve it after managing to travel this far. Let me think, well i remember how you all used to look, still so young and you were covered in so much fur. Now you're building quaint little stone huts and starting the foundations of a real city. When i look back now, it makes me so proud to have supported all of that. Even with your company I cant hide the fact that I will always miss the others, it would at least be nice to get some sort of message from them through my crystal globe. I wish we would've added more globes to this room so I could gaze upon more than one planet and see all the other chosen species grow. Though, I suppose after being atmosphere locked here by my family I don't deserve little luxuries. When I was younger I definitely pushed too many things for it to be ethical. They are part of the reason you are what you are now. A little over a thousand years ago when I first showed up here, we were here to set up a base on this planet for the soul purpose of assisting a designated life form to become fully sentient and intelligent enough to eventually increase the population out in space so that more technology could be traded and that creativity could be pushed further. There was supposed to be a different species that we were going to assist but my meddling changed the plans. There were four others besides me when we first came here. The units we travel in are always composed of our siblings, this would allow for easier communication between planetary leaps since the dead of space doesn't let sound travel. I'm sure your species will figure out your own method when you're old enough. Having siblings also allows us to leave our parents at an earlier age since we will already have that established support system, which would take way too long and cause more problems than necessary if we had to do that with other Nogards, we only have 5,000 years to travel the universe after all. One of the members was my older brother, Galax. I think I miss him the most. He had to have been the most creative nogardian to ever exist. Then there are my 3 sisters; Stratia, Sapphora, and Luna. I believe they were the main ones to plan out my imprisonment here, if my sisters are any indication of what the rest of my clan are like then females are more intelligent than any male could ever be, almost to an evil conniving degree. Hmm? you appear to be hungry.