"Nerdy plant enthusiast Tom discovers a strange plant in his backyard. But when he accidentally pricks his finger on one of its thorns, he gains the power to talk to plants. Little does he know, the plants have chosen him for a greater purpose, and as he delves deeper into his newfound powers, he uncovers a sinister plot involving a group of well-intentioned, plant-based aliens whose actions have caused a dangerous signal to be sent to Earth's vegetation. Can Tom use his powers to save the planet and restore balance to the ecosystem?" He turned to the other plants in his garden and was amazed to discover that he could hear them too. They weren't speaking to him in words, but he could feel their emotions and their needs. He realized that he had gained the ability to communicate with plants, and he was filled with a sense of wonder and excitement. He knew that this was a power he could use to make a difference in the world." Tom was in his backyard, surrounded by the plants he had grown and cared for when suddenly he heard a voice in his head. It was a strange, alien voice that seemed to be coming from one of the plants.  "Hello, Tom," the voice said. "We need your help." Tom was taken aback. "Who are you?" he asked. "We are the Guardians of the Plant Kingdom," the voice replied. "We have been watching you, and we have chosen you to help us save the Earth from destruction." Tom was skeptical. "Save the Earth from what?" "From our own kind," the voice said. "We are plant-based aliens, and we came to Earth with the intention of helping your planet. But we made a mistake. Our experiments caused a stress signal that triggered the plants to attack humans. We want to make it right, but we need your help." Tom was hesitant. "Why me?" "Because you have the power to communicate with the plants," the voice said. "You can help us understand them and stop them from attacking. Will you help us?" Tom thought for a moment, then nodded. "I'll do my best," he said. "But what do I need to do?" The voice gave him instructions, and Tom set off on his mission to save the Earth from the plant-based aliens.

Tom has always had the purest of intentions. He cares deeply about the environment and has dedicated his life to caring for plants. But somehow, he always manages to mess things up. When the plant-based aliens ask for his help to save the Earth, Tom eagerly agrees. But as he delves deeper into the mission, he realizes that he may have made a grave mistake. Tom's good intentions lead him to blindly trust the plant-based aliens and their plans. But as the mission progresses, he begins to uncover the aliens' true intentions. They are not the benevolent creatures he thought they were. Instead, they are seeking to use Earth as a testing ground for their own gain, and they will stop at nothing to achieve their goals. As Tom struggles with his own guilt and the realization that he has been helping the wrong side, he must fight to make things right.

As Tom continued to work with the plant-based aliens, he started to feel uneasy. He had been following their instructions blindly, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. One day, as he was speaking with the plants in his backyard, he realized that they had been using him. He had been nothing but a pawn in their game. "Wait a minute," Tom said to the plant-based aliens. "You've been using me, haven't you? You said I had the power to stop the plants from attacking humans, but I don't. I've been doing busy work this whole time."

Tom's heart was racing as he stood before the group of plant-based aliens, their green tendrils writhing menacingly. "I trusted you!" he shouted, his voice shaking with anger and disbelief. "I thought you were here to help the Earth, but all along you were just using it as a test subject for your own gain!" The leader of the aliens, a towering mass of vines and leaves, shifted uncomfortably. "Tom, we understand your anger," it said in a placating voice. "But we had no choice. Our planet is dying, and we needed a new home. Earth seemed like the perfect place, and with your help, we could have made it work." "At what cost?" Tom demanded. "You were willing to sacrifice the entire ecosystem, put human lives in danger, just to save your own species?" The leader didn't answer, but the other aliens began to hiss and murmur amongst themselves. Tom knew he was in danger, but he refused to back down. "I won't let you hurt anyone else," he said, summoning all his courage. "I'll use my powers to stop you." The leader of the aliens looked down at Tom with a mixture of pity and contempt. "You don't understand, Tom," it said. "You're just a human. You don't have the power to stop us." Tom gritted his teeth, refusing to give in. "Maybe not alone," he said, glancing around at the plants that surrounded him. "But I'm not alone. I have an army of plants on my side. And we won't let you destroy our home." With that, Tom turned and sprinted away, his mind racing with plans to stop the plant-based aliens once and for all. But with the plant-based aliens growing stronger every day, he knows that time is running out. Tom's ability to communicate with the plants becomes a double-edged sword as he learns the truth behind the aliens' intentions. He begins to hear the plants' distress and fear as they are manipulated and used as weapons against humans. It becomes increasingly difficult for Tom to balance his duty to the plant-based aliens and his desire to protect the Earth and its inhabitants. As he struggles to find a way to stop the aliens without harming the plants, Tom turns to his fellow humans for help. With the aid of a small group of like-minded individuals, he sets out to find a way to neutralize the aliens' signal without causing harm to the plants. As the final battle approaches, Tom finds himself torn between his loyalty to the plant-based aliens who had given him the gift of communication and his duty to protect the Earth. In the end, he makes a difficult decision, knowing that it may cost him his newfound power and connection to the plants. As Tom and his team continue to work on finding a way to peacefully coexist with the plant-based aliens, tensions in the city continue to rise. The plants have been attacking humans more frequently, and the military has been mobilizing to prepare for a potential conflict. The military already knows that Tom a sixteen-year-old can communicate with the plants and he is their only chance of communicating with the alien plant leader. However, they know what risk they are about to face. Tom: "So what happens if I end up without my usual communication devices?" Military Officer: "We have a contingency plan in place, Tom. We've planted a small bug device on you that you can use as an SOS signal if needed. It's disguised as a harmless object, so the aliens won't suspect anything." Tom: "That's a relief. But how will I activate the bugging device?" Military Officer: "It's easy. Just press the button on the device three times in a row, and it will send an automatic signal to our monitoring station. We'll know to send a rescue team as soon as we receive the signal." Tom: "Got it. And what happens if the aliens find the bugging device?" Military Officer: "We don't think they'll find it. But if they do, the bugging device is programmed to self-destruct and erase all data within five minutes. So there won't be any evidence that could put our team or you at risk." Tom receives a message from the leader of the plant-based aliens, who says that they have discovered a new food source that could sustain both their species and humans, and they would like to negotiate a peaceful agreement. However, they request that Tom come alone to their main base to discuss the terms. Tom and his team are skeptical but decide to take the risk and go to the plant base. When they arrive, they are met with a seemingly peaceful environment, and the plant-based aliens offer them a feast of the new food source. However, Tom notices that some of his team members are becoming increasingly lethargic and unresponsive after eating the food. He confronts the plant leader, who reveals that the food source is a mind-controlling substance that would allow the plants to control the human population. The plant leader offers Tom a choice: either join them and become a part of their society or be eliminated. Tom and his team are faced with a difficult decision. They could either sacrifice themselves to stop the plant-based aliens' plan, or they could join the plants and potentially become mind-controlled and harm, other humans. With the military ready to attack and time running out, Tom and his team must make a decision that could determine the fate of both species. Tom wouldn't make his decision he gave his signal to the military, but before Tom could get away the plant aliens threw Tom into a cell-like room;

Tom sat in a small, dimly lit room, his back pressed against the wall. His eyes darted back and forth, scanning the room for any sign of danger. He could hear the soft, rhythmic sound of the alien plants breathing outside the door, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He had lost contact with his team hours ago, and his radio crackled with static. The weight of the situation was starting to sink in, and Tom could feel the panic rising in his chest. He took a deep breath and tried to steady his nerves. He knew he had to stay calm, for his team's sake. But the thought of them out there, alone and vulnerable, was almost too much to bear. Tom closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. He could hear the faint sound of gunfire in the distance, and he knew that time was running out. The rescue team had to get there soon, or they would all be lost. He whispered a silent prayer for his team's safety, and for his own. He knew that if they didn't make it out alive, it would be his fault. He had led them into this mess, and he would have to live with the consequences. Tom opened his eyes and looked down at his hands, which were shaking uncontrollably. He clenched his fists, willing himself to be strong. He had to be strong for his team, for his country, and for himself. He took another deep breath and stood up, his legs feeling like jelly. He knew that whatever happened next, he had to face it head-on. He couldn't let his fear and doubt get the best of him. He had to keep moving forward, even if it meant sacrificing everything. Tom remembers that the alien plants seemed to be vulnerable to sound. He quickly sets his bugging device to emit a high-pitched frequency that he hopes will distract the guards and cause them to leave their posts. The plan works, and Tom is able to escape his cell. But as he's sneaking through the alien plant's underground lair, he begins to realize that the frequency from the bugging device is having an unexpected effect. The alien plants are mutating, growing larger and more aggressive, and their behavior is becoming increasingly erratic. Tom eventually reaches the surface and emerges into a dark, eerie forest. The mutated alien plants are everywhere, towering above him and closing in on all sides. He realizes that the frequency of the bugging device has triggered a massive transformation in the plants, turning them into something far more dangerous and unpredictable than he ever could have imagined. As Tom desperately tries to find a way out of the forest, he realizes that he's not alone. There's a low, rumbling sound coming from deep within the forest, and he can't shake the feeling that something is watching him, waiting for the right moment to strike. The mutated alien plants closed in on him from all sides. He can hear their twisted branches scraping against each other, creating an eerie, discordant melody that sends chills down his spine. As he runs, he realizes that the low rumbling sound is getting closer. It's a deep, guttural growl that seems to be coming from something much larger than the mutated plants. Tom knows he has to keep moving, but he's starting to feel like he's trapped in a nightmare. Suddenly, he sees a faint light in the distance. It's a glimmer of hope, and he runs towards it with everything he's got. He hears a faint sound and it distracts him because it sounds like his mom. Tom suddenly wakes up in a cold sweat, realizing that the entire experience was just a terrible nightmare. He tries to calm himself down, telling himself that it was just a figment of his imagination. But as he looks around his bedroom, he can't shake the feeling that something is still off. As he tries to get out of bed, he realizes that he can't move. It's as if his body is paralyzed, and he can only watch in horror as the walls around him start to shift and twist, morphing into grotesque, organic shapes. The sound of rustling leaves and snapping twigs fills his ears, and he realizes that the nightmare is far from over. The mutated alien plants burst through the walls of his room, their tendrils lashing out at him with deadly intent. Tom tries to scream, but no sound comes out. He's trapped, helpless, as the nightmare engulfs him. Just when he thinks he can't take it any longer, he suddenly wakes up for real, gasping for breath. This time, it's really over. But the memory of the nightmare lingers on, haunting him long after he's fully awake.


It was a grueling day at work everything that could go sideways did. Blueprints I needed for a meeting did not come I called the carrier said maybe their driver misplaced them or delivered to the wrong office. I spilled coffee on my new laptop. Luckily I had a friend in the IT dept help dry it out. When the clock hit 5 o’clock, and all I wanted to do was to go home and watch television, make myself a cup of coffee, put a TV dinner in the oven, and just chill. Of course, the bus I was on got a flat tire I had to wait till the next bus came twenty minutes later, of course, it was standing room only. Finally, I made it home, putting the key in the door I just laid on the sofa, coat and all. I had finished eating dinner dishes done and put away first I checked my personal e-mail and my school e-mail one of the emails reminded me there was an early morning staff meeting to meet the new department head.

After which, while surfing the net. I came across one of those websites that still have people that believe the world is flat and other far-out crazies as we didn’t land on the moon Elvis Presley is still alive, scientist are bearding distinct types of animal to clone them one day.

I think of these webs site cotton candy for the mind. People ready believe this stuff, really.

Several weeks later another strange article caught my eye only had a few lines all the way at the bottom it read “Inside source provides information on a machine to control the weather” I just laugh thinking to myself these people need to get a life. Several months later another small hidden article still in a fringe magazine read “Engineers make a prototype of a machine to control the weather”

Common sense told me that this would be on the front page of a national newspaper or television station. It would be the story of the century. I do remember the story about a strange airplane saw near area fifty-one turned out later to be true to be a secret stealth flyer.

What would be the effect if we could control the weather? Do we have a hubris toward nature? I searched and within the next two years more talk about a weather machine from small mainstream media outlets. Early in June, the public relations department of the government acknowledged engineers had indeed invented the machine to control the weather. It gave the agency to oversee this machine the name of the weather monitor department, which was part of Homeland security. The agency did finally admit after the media outlets sued using the Freedom of Information Act, they had to admit they had limited their use of the machine only twice to areas that needed water to relieve drought in the central part of the United States. The weather monitor department spokeswoman insisted that no unexpected disturbance occurred. This was another big step for mankind.

I had been noticing slowly even though we were in daylight saving the usual bright sun would wake me up and it was not that strong lately. The world would soon find out the consequence of trying to be the master of the weather just an unexpected disturbance. It was a slow process, but suddenly one morning my alarm went off at six, but it was dark, I thought maybe the power went out but checked my cell and it was six a.m. I said, “Google read me the lead news story.” Google in plan tone “The leading story is the sun did not rise over the east coast instead the sun came up over California.” “What?” Just a minute Google doesn't the rule goes the sunrise in the east and set in the west? “Correct” “I yelled back, well what the hell happened?” Google in its monotone voice “has no response.” I thought to myself calm down this may be the strangest dream I’ve ever had must have been the fresh bottle of brandy I bought on my way home yesterday. I sat glued to the television nobody had a clue what was happening social media was going wild with crazy beliefs. My message board on my cell was full. This shifting of the rising sun continued for about three weeks until finally, the truth came out. The weather monitor Department which oversaw this machine admitted when the power of the machine had by accident increased too quickly to cover the entire United States it caused a massive gravity shift the engineers are working day and night on a solution to rebalance the gravity shift. I stood frozen in front of the TV. The engineers had to use the help of

NASA the engineers came up with a possible solution It would require NASA to recalculate several of its satellites alone with help from several other countries satellites which took a lot of convincing along with a few nice incentives with a signal beam pointed toward the sun for the next twenty-four-hour the scientist and the engineers’ calculations predicted a gravity correction. The world held its collective breath. Bets were being taken in Los Vagas three to one. It would not work. As usual, no one was aware of this machine or its use. I fell asleep on the couch in the sunroom of my home. I had to put my hand up to block the sun from hitting my face. I jumped up as the sun hit my face. I asked Google, “what time is it?” It is 6 am, daylight Saving Time replied Google.    In the coming months, there were several investigations, but in the end, nobody knew anything about this machine or what went wrong. They passed laws to prevent any more attempts to tamper with the weather and that the machine was to be destroyed and they made the plans top secret to be stored at an undisclosed location. Several years later, again while researching for a class project, I stumbled on another fringe website, unnamed sources claiming they had not destroyed the weather machine which was being stored at area fifty-one. It made me wonder not again, please lord.


The door was always locked. It was not supposed to be open. Rumors say that whoever went in never came back. I stood in the empty hallway, the air heavy with dust and sweat, my heart racing. It's okay; You're going to be okay. I stared up at the cracked, wooden door, its white paint peeling away. The knob was cracked, with a big silver lock attached to it.

"Excuse me?" I snapped my head in the direction of the voice. A tall man, I would guess anywhere more than 6 feet tall, stood behind me. His eyes printed the word danger, and he wore a black t-shirt and vest, with security printed at the front and black jeans with brown army boots. His breath was foul and smelled like cigarettes. A deep, red scar ripped through his eyebrow down to the top of his eye. A bush of dark curls was hidden underneath his black baseball cap. We faced each other like soldiers, still and firm. But then I took a step back, fearful.

"So?" I turned around and ran, the sound of my footsteps echoing against the plain white walls. My hair flew behind me as I sprinted towards the exit. The guard didn't come after me, and when I looked back, the only sight was the door, surrounded by sad, empty walls. As soon as I made it outside, I gasped for air. It was dark, and a blanket of stars pelted the night sky. The wind howls loudly, carrying the scent of rain off the trees and sidewalk. I trudged down the street warily. Streetlamps flickered, casting dim lights on the dark road.

No one knew what had happened to our town. People started disappearing every year. They believed that the door had some way of attracting you towards it, like controlling your mind. Every year one person vanishes at night and is never seen again in the morning. Ever since it started happening, no one went outside much besides those who had jobs and needed to make money. Curfew was at 11 p.m; for everyone in the town because those who opened the doors ghosts would come and haunt us unless we found shelter in our homes. I carefully walked up the old, broken steps of the wooden porch and opened the door of my tiny home. It creaked loudly, interrupting the silence.

The lights were already off beside the faint glow of the digital clock, flashing at 10:53, just in time. I crept across the stained carpet, a cloud of dust forming with each step I took. Laying down on my torn couch, the horrible stench of sweat and filth filled my nostrils. The broken windows couldn't keep the cold wind out of my shed, causing me to shiver. Suddenly, I heard a click. I jumped down and pulled out a knife from under the couch. Then, another click. The air became still and silent, and my heart started pounding against my chest. "Who's there?" Click. The wind howled, and the curtains swayed, causing the moonlight to flood into the room. I peered out the window, carefully holding the knife by my side. Something brushed my shoulder. I spun around, startled. The space was empty. I started feeling dizzy, and it was hard to breathe. I gasped for air, grabbing the couch for support. I felt like something was controlling me. Raspy voices screamed at me inside of my head, repeating "The door" again and again. I tried to snap myself awake, but then it was all over.

There I was, in the middle of my shed, everything the same. The digital clock now flashed 11:01 in bright red digits. The couch still stank, and the carpet was still stained. The kitchen faucet still leaked, causing drops of water to fall against the steel sink every 5 seconds. I walked towards the door of my shack, dragging my fingers against the peeled wall. I pushed the door open, and it let out another screech. I pulled up my hood over my head and ran. As soon as I left, I felt like people were watching me. I ran down the street. When I got to a tall, rectangular building made out of glass, I walked around the perimeter to find a way in. There was no way in, so I picked up a smooth, flat stone and chucked it at a window. The alarm went off as I ran through it. Red sirens flashed in the corridor of the building. I ran to the locked door, unable to hide my desperation to open it. I banged on the door, more and more paint peeling off. I screamed in frustration as I continued kicking the door. It finally opened. I walked in, the darkness swallowing me. "Hello?" I yelled; the dreadful walls called back with a loud echo causing me to shiver. I cautiously walked step after step into the never-ending blackness. The only sound was the squeak of my shoes against the slimy, wet floor. I saw the light ahead of me and wandered towards it. There was a tall, gray gate with orange patches of rust on it. It was locked, but across it was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. There was a continuous field of green grass with a striking blue lake. Tall mountains stood high in the sky, their peaks hidden behind the white fluffy clouds. The bright sun shone down all over the happy people. It looked like what the world used to be, as the perfect slice of pumpkin pie on a fall evening. I wanted to cross the gate badly. I watched miserably, still clinging on to the gate. "Help!" I yelled, tears in my eyes. I hopelessly stared far away. I shouted, knowing no one was going to help me. I couldn't turn back, though. "Please!" I cried out as loud as I could. Out of all the people, no one could hear me. I dropped onto my knees, sobbing. It was all useless. When it's dark, the light helps us. But the light isn't always able to hear us call for help.


Pegasus could be seen from any spot within the gigantic expanse of the stadium. Oris and his best friends would occasionally stand at the base of the stadium to observe the radiant glow and ring of dust floating around Pegasus. Something about this celestial body could steal your breath. It was a majestic spectacle for all to behold; it stood gallantly bright and fierce as its light penetrated every corner of the cosmos. All citizens of Centauri b revered Pegasus because it outshone every other star in its constellation.

But things were different now.

Over the last couple of days, Pegasus’ brightness slowly began to dim. This was alarming for all the citizens who adored the 800 million year old star.

It was their main source of energy. The gradual drop in luminosity meant that it was on the verge of decay . It was rare that a star of such grandeur would come to extinction. The last time a star of such magnitude decayed completely was over five hundred years prior. In Oris’ lifetime, he had only witnessed the death of the smaller stars- a frequent occurrence that provided the basis of the annual Light Catching games.

Every 180 days, a star would die. The great astronomers of Centauri b had developed stamps on certain stars which predicted the exact time they would go extinct. And so far their system proved accurate. Whenever these stars were a week away from their extinction, the whole planet would prepare to watch the bedazzling astronomical phenomenon- a supernova. These large celestial bodies would undergo changes in internal pressure resulting in a magnificent explosion sending neutron stars and other forms of celestial matter ricocheting into the cosmos. Men and women from all corners of the galaxy would come and watch the explosion- the dispersion of the star as it

rained atoms and neutrons embellishing the heavens with fantastical colours But this microcosm of gas and dust wasn’t the only event preceding light catching games. It was the bright particles transcending space, flying at outstanding speeds in all directions. Bright particles that a group of elite athletes were trained and determined to conquer.

Oris, Ash, and Axel were amongst the chosen elite .

Axel and Ash were the closest thing that oris had to siblings.

The triplets, they called themselves. And the sibling-like rivalry between them was obvious. Ash wanted to be the best scientist of the three and Jack always had the competitive edge because he knew he was the best athlete. But Oris had never accomplished anything in his life.

He wasn’t the great Ahlete that Axel was nor the scientist that Ash was. Amongst his friends, he was the underachiever. Throughout his teenage years he remained protective. Sheltered and safe from the clusters of gas, dust and celestial matter that made up the galaxy of Centauri-b. So it shocked everyone when he was selected to participate in the annual Light Catching Games. “It’s probably some mistake in the draft system if Oris made it” said Axel.

“Don’t listen to him” said Ash Oris didn't know what to believe. He didn't know what to think. There was One thing he was certain of. He was more terrified than he had ever been in his life. He had always been afraid and too cautious. Too self-conscious, extremely reserved and too afraid to venture into the great world of battleships, astral armaments and astronauts. So he never got a taste of the world. Not until his name was called by the Intergalactic Trainee Board. Everyone in his unit was surprised that Oris would be selected. The Light Catching games were intense and fierce involving athletes from all over the galaxy who are willing to risk their lives to be crowned. A few eyebrows were raised because Oris was known to be unathletic.

In fact, nobody at the learning center was sure if there was anything he was particularly good at. But somehow whether by accident or miracle, he made the selection.

Adopted as an infant, he never knew his real parents. The only thing he knew about himself was his name Oris which was engraved on the necklace around his neck when he was given up for adoption.

Now at the edge of their seventeenth year, Oris, Ash and Axel all felt the pressure. They all wanted to prove themselves to the world. And the Light Catching games was their shot. It was seven days until the Light Catching Games and Oris thought about forfeiting. He felt like an imposter amongst these great athletes. They stood at the edge of the stadium watching in awe. It was a massive region of space surrounded by nothing but red dwarfs.

And Pegasus stood dignified in the center of its constellation. Oris was still awestruck when suddenly

BOOM Axel tackled him into the abyss of the arena. The two teenagers tumbled down under the influence of light gravity down into depths of the stadium.

Oris struggled to regain his breath.

“Man, you got me right in the gut” he said gasping for air. “First rule of intergalactic drifting. Be alert at all times” said Axel.

Oris waited a few moments before returning the favor. He charged towards Axel relying on the propelling force of his hoverblades.

But Axel had already anticipated that, holding his guard up the whole time. “Seriously guys? Very mature” said Ash scoffing at the tqo.. As the two  struggled to subdue one another, Ash couldn’t help but notice a rumbling in the distance.

She ignored it but it got stronger and stronger until the ground beneath them started to vibrate. She looked to the sky and noticed a bright sparkling particle- a shooting star maybe- but it wasn’t an ordinary star. It drew nearer and nearer until its light illuminated the entire stadium.

By the time Axel and Oris felt the vibration and heat from the light, it was already only a mile away from them. Axel was numb. Oris froze. The mix of panic and shock temporarily shut down his nervous system. Axel stood still and watched in amazement. Whatever  it was it was heading towards Oris at lighting speed. Now, it was only a few inches away. Adrenaline kicked in. Oris blinked for a second before the force of the incoming particle sent him flying yards across the stadium.

And in an instant, the light was gone. It’s remnant was nothing but debris and shockwaves throughout the ground.

Everyone could feel the impact. Nobody knew what it was but it was the coolest thing they had ever witnessed.


I sit down on the small upper platform, leaning myself towards the wall while keeping my hands holding the edges of the stepladder. My arms ache, and my back hurt but my heart feel satisfied. I caress my tummy and whisper, “For you and this family, mom did this.” I stretch the corner of my lips to brush off my guilt of the long kept truth that I did not tell Steve. “Mom finds it difficult to trust people, even your dad. Keep it as a secret between the two of us, baby. Now mom can keep an eye of your dad.” I pull out my phone from my pocket and tap the screen. Finally it shows the right angle. Now I can see my front door area from my phone. I wink at the surveillance security camera that I spent my last hour putting it in the right position.

My phone rings.

“Hi honey. Oh, I’m reaching home soon. I will prepare a dinner for us. Yeah, I was just talking to the baby. She seems quiet now, maybe she’s sleeping. See you. Love you.” I exhale a long breath before I step down and fold it. I look again where the camera sits.

I hope it won’t be that obvious for Steve to realize what I put there as he walks in to home later.

As I step down the ladder and fold it, I keep ensuring myself that it is fine to install a camera to watch over my property area. Who knows that our neighbors are busybodies who bothers to walk in to our home area randomly? “Hello there. It seems you are new in this neighbourhood,” a voice broke my wandering mind.

Like her. A lady in orange polo shirt and white short smiles at me. Her short hair is covered by white baseball hat, although some short hair in silver is seen around her temple. Probably she is around sixty years old. “Yes, I am. I’m Emily Evans. My husband and I just moved in to this city early this year, but we didn’t have time yet to know our neighbours. And you are?” “Call me Mrs. Coleman. I live two doors from here. I usually jogs at this hour and finds your home quiet all the time. It’s the first time I see somebody in the house.” “I usually work and come home a little late. My husband works at home, but he is out today for a meeting.” “Is it your first?” she looks at the bump of my tummy.

“Yes, our first baby. She’s around 12 weeks now.” “I hope she’s healthy, looking at how busy you work, even at home.” She glances over my tummy to the ladder that I’m holding.” “Oh, it’s just a simple fix. My husband, Steve, who does the repairing and more… labour work.” “Don’t overdo yourself. Young couple nowadays overestimate themselves in everything they do,” she rolls her eyes. “Just come by to our home if you need anything.” “Sure. Thanks, Mrs. Coleman. Have a good day.” I check my phone, and realized that I do not have much time. First thing first, I get to rush myself clearing the mess that I made with the drill and my wall’s debris.

***** It’s 7 PM and I’m almost ready with the dinner. As I turn off the stove and pour the slow cooked beef to a small bowl, I hear the beep sound from the garage.

Perfect!

In just a minute I can welcome Steve by the dinner table together with his favorite dishes.

After waiting for five minutes by the dining area, I have not seen Steve walked in. The distance of our garage and dining area is less than a minute even if you decide to crawling instead of walking on your feet. I can’t sit still in curiosity, so I walk over to the garage.

Steve was busy looking down to his phone when I found him. “Is everything okay?” He startled over my greeting. “You scared me. Yes, things are okay. I was texting with my friend. How is our little baby?” We exchange kisses and walk to the dining room. “Our sweet baby is excited to see Daddy coming home. She moves around.” “That’s the sweetest greeting ever! Love you, baby.” Steve kisses my tummy.

“Your old friends?” I started digging while preparing his cutleries and getting himself a glass of water.

“Hm… a new friend actually. Your stew looks so delicious,” he seems not interested to talk about his new friend. “Thank you. I left the meat in the slow cooker since morning, so it’s not only delicious but tender.” As I put the the glass of water on his side, his phone which sits next to him lights up. A message coming in.

He grabs his phone quickly and keeps it in his pocket. That is unusual move from Steve. “Oh, I love to try it then!”

“Let your friend wait until you finish your dinner.” I hate to sound like his mom, but I can’t pretend that I didn’t notice it.

He clears his throat and grab his spoon to scoop out the stew.

We have been married for almost nine months. We had our marriage counseling in our three monthsary, and had a couple of fights. I left this house for my parents’ house for weeks because he was wavering when I proposed starting our marriage all over again. When I thought that our marriage was over, he came to pick me up in my parents’ house.

It was a rough start in the beginning, and now things are getting better. I learned to control my temper, and he started expressing his thoughts and feelings. Well, we learn to communicate better.

This ask-do-not-assume communication exercise that he proposed is not working that well recently. Steve is not telling me why he has been easily distracted by text messages nowadays, even in the morning, and dinner time like this. I want him to be present mentally. I meet him in the morning and the evening only, so is it too much to ask for him to leave his friend for a couple hours with me?

I believe he should be communicating this new friend to me also. He should know that surviving in ambiguity is not my forte. If he is not talking, then I will find out by myself who is Nat. Yes, it’s the name of his new friend that I managed to peek from his phone screen just now.

***** This morning, I was making a breakfast in the kitchen when Steve walked out to the laundry room with a basket of soiled clothes. I have been waiting for this chance, it’s Steve’s laundry schedule.

Immediately, I turned off the stove and slunk over to the bedroom. I snatched Steve’s phone, opened the screen lock with my finger print and tap on the messaging app to see his chat with his new friend, Nat.

No profile picture.

‘Are you free tomorrow?’ Steve sent the message yesterday. ’I’m at the usual place. Just come by anytime.’ ‘Great. I need to talk to you. I need some advice.’ ‘We meet over lunch at Lucie’s Diner.’ “Emily, I saw you in the kitchen just now.”

I almost had a heart attack. Steve’s voice was heard from my back.

Luckily I was sitting by the bed, so he did not see that I was tampering with his phone. I slipped his phone under the comforter, said that I lost one of my earring and found it on the nightdesk.

Now it’s ten minutes before lunch time. My colleagues left for early lunch while I’m still on my desk, wondering if I need to be worry about Steve’s meeting. The voice in my mind to check out this Nat kills me. I don’t feel hungry now. My bulb lights up.

I typed in the cloud service, and logged in to Steve’s phone account in a minute. His phone was my birthday present to him, so I set everything up including his account, password and all. His location pin shows that he is at Lucie’s Diner.

I bit my fingers.

This time I accessed his phone book and dialed Nat’s number from my phone.

Nobody is picking up. I tried again.

“Hello.” “Hi Nat. You may not…” I explained to the coarse voice from the other side. It’s hard to tell if it’s a girl or a guy’s voice.

“Nat is not around. Just leave a message, okay?”

Despite the unfriendliness of Nat’s friend, or whoever, it is obvious that Nat does not want to be disturbed this lunch time. ***** I turn off my car and look at the front door. Few days have passed since the day I called Nat’s number. I still cannot find peace of mind or resolution to this curiosity that kills me. I don’t even know how to ask to Steve, just to clear things away. I imagine another evening pretending that I am fine while brushing off million possibilities of what is happening with Steve, his friend Nat, and our marriage. Honestly I am tired thinking of all the possibilities. I wipe the warm flow from my eyes.

Maybe it’s just my mind. Maybe there’s nothing really happened and I’m just mistaken with all the situation. Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormone that triggers the overly sensitive side of me.

“I’m sorry to confuse you, Babe.” I mumble softly to my bump. “Daddy is a faithful man, and he has been working so hard for us. He works at home most of his time, even at night. There is nothing wrong with him meeting with his new friend once in a while.” I pulled out my phone and checking on today’s recording. “You see, he must have felt so lonely to be at home by himself most of the time.” I close my eyes and blink few times seeing the camera recording that Steve had a guest today. A brown hair lady in her blue navy cardigan covering white shirt and wearing red skirt walked to our home. Her face was covered with black sunglasses. She disappeared from the camera after Steve opened the door. I fast forwarded the record. She went out again after more than an hour in our home.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. It’s time to practice my anger management method. I said to myself, “I will speak to Steve calmly. We can talk things out like adults.”

I walk out from my car and open the front door. The living room is as neat as I saw this morning. I walked slowly to Steve’s office room. He is on the phone on his reclining chair. “That’s a good idea. Yeah, I will talk about this to Emily. Hey, I will introduce her to you next time. Thanks for the surprise, Nat. The cookie is nice and the book seems interesting. I will read it.” Steve saw me walking in to his office and he hung up his call.

“Hi, honey. I have something sweet for you.” I see the chocolate chip cookies that he offered to me. The one he mentioned from Nat. I cannot tell what my facial expression this time, I just feel tired fighting with my own thoughts.

Steve can tell something is wrong. “Are you okay? Come sit in my chair. You look tired,” he got up and guided me to sit on his chair.

I follow him. I look at the only book lying on his desk. ‘HOLD ME TIGHT’ says the title of the book. My mind is blank in finding explanation about receiving such book from a lady. “Who is Nat?” I tried to tone down my voice. I need to be calm. I need to make him speak or I’ll have another sleepless night. “Ah, you heard what I was talking about earlier? Nat is my new friend. I will introduce you to Nat next time.” “Who is Nat?” I repeated. “Who is Nat to you? Why are you not telling me about your new friend? Are we supposed to practice an open communication? Why did she come and give you cookies and book? What did you do at home with her?” I couldn’t resist the curiosity about Nat again. Steve nods. He senses that I am anxious about things that he keeps unknown to me.

“I met Nat in one of the day when you left home to your parents. It was around four months ago. Nat gave me some marriage advices, one of them is to ask, do not assume. We are friends since then.” He picks the cookies and the book.

“These are Nat’s first present. We don’t do gift exchange. I was not expecting this also. I wonder why did you know that it was a lady who came here.” “I put a camera in our front door.” He nods again. “I see… She is Nat’s wife. She baked the cookie today and was thinking to bring the book that Nat bought for me. So she came with her husband giving the address of our home.” “How did Nat know about our address? Wait.. you said, husband?” “Remember that before you left home the other time your car couldn’t start? Nat was the mechanic.” Steve reached his phone. “Give me a second.” In less than a minute, Steve and I are making a video call with Nat. It took a while to connect.

“Steve, why the video call suddenly? You know I don’t do much stuff with my phone though I’m good with machine.”

“My wife just want to say hi to you Nat. Nat, this is my wife, Emily. Emily, this is Nathan, my friend. His famous name is Nat. He fixed your car months ago.” Nat does not look like what I was imagining at all. He’s a silver haired guy, wearing a specs, and his black beard mixes with some white hair.

“Hi Emily. You look so young. I hope the book that I gave you will be helpful.” “Hi Nat. Thanks for fixing my car and being Steve’s friend. But.. why the book?” “It’s a good communication book that may help your marriage. Don’t be misled by the title, like me.” He laughed so hard and called his wife to be on the call. I recognized her as the lady in the camera. “My wife wanted to meet Steve and gave him some insights about talking with a woman. Once she started speaking, her lecture is hard to stop.” Steve continued the talk for a little longer, knowing that I was not in the right state of mind to talk further.

My mind was blank. It’s embarrasing. “Nat is revealed. No more mystery, Mrs. Detective.”


Isabelle’s shoes quickly thumped against the sidewalk, harmonizing with her heavy breathing. She held onto the straps of her grey backpack to prevent too much bouncing. Almost to the bus stop, she saw the city bus turn the corner, giving a loud screech as it jolted to a halt at the edge of the neighborhood. She joined the end of the line, where someone from behind rammed into her backpack. She looked over her shoulder, but he hadn’t noticed. Straightening her jean jacket, she stepped onto the bus. Seeing an open seat next to a middle aged woman, she tapped her shoulder. The woman nodded, not pausing in her texting, and Isabelle took the seat. Feeling the vibration of her phone, Isabelle saw a text from her friend, Jasmine. “Happy bday! Have u seen preston?” “Thx! No i was almost late,” she responded. “Hes a few rows up from u.” Her heart skipped a beat. She slowly leaned her head into the aisle, enough to see the back of Preston’s head, full of luscious, neatly trimmed but not too uptight dark brown hair. She sighed happily to herself, listening to the rumble of the bus and the occasional cough or throat-clearing.

A calming woman’s voice played over the speakers. “Next station: 843rd North Station,” the city’s computerized voice, Lisa, announced. Isabelle’s companion tucked her phone into her pocket, getting ready to step off. They exchanged nods as the woman squeezed around her. Isabelle looked out the window and into the street whizzing by. The sun was just beginning to rise above trees, reflecting golden rays against the windows of the buildings passing by. She closed her icy blue eyes against the sudden reflection, the shape of the windows imprinted on her lenses. “Next station: Woodland High School.” She was jolted out of her own musings and joined the sea of students marching off the buses and into the school, necks bent down to their phones. Isabelle’s first class of the day was biology. The bright classroom was lined with a variety of plants, lab equipment, and science related posters. She took her seat next to Jasmine at the table they shared, pulling her laptop out to get ready for class notes. Tucking her long, dirty blonde hair behind her ear, Jasmine started texting her about Preston’s movements that she’d missed at the bus stop, and her birthday party they were planning.

A few minutes later Isabelle jumped when the bell rang, but her embarrassment soon extinguished when she saw no one had noticed. Their teacher for that day, a chubby, grandmotherly looking woman, turned on the projector and typed on her computer, playing Lisa’s soothing voice over the speakers: “Good morning, class. I am Mrs. Ferguson, your substitute while your teacher is sick today. Let’s start by taking toll--I mean roll, sorry. Typo. When I say your name, raise your hand.” Lisa’s voice began naming off students. Isabelle’s eyes stayed glued on Preston sitting in front of her, admiring the way he raised his hand so confidently. She leaned forward with her elbows on her desk and chin resting on her fists to get a better view. “Price, Isabelle. Price, Isabelle? Are you here today?” Jasmine nudged Isabelle, breaking the trance as her hand shot up.

That day’s class was about photosynthesis. “What is required for the process of photosynthesis?” The substitute pushed more buttons to allow for class participation. Preston was the first to text in the answer.

“Water light co2.” "Correct! Well done, Preston." Isabelle smiled to herself, admiring all the knowledge just waiting to be released from Preston's mind.

The long school day finally finished and Isabelle saw her reward. Preston was sitting by himself on the bus, and she slid into the seat next to him with a fluttering heart. She smiled at him, but he was busy texting a friend. She felt giddy tapping on his shoulder. He held out his phone to exchange numbers, but she wished he would look up. "Hi preston," Isabelle eagerly texted, trying not to squirm with excitement.

"Hey." "On sat is my 18 bday party, u want 2 come?" He found a funny yes gif, followed by a happy birthday gif. Isabelle smiled, but he was still staring at his phone. He resumed texting his friend, leaving Isabelle alone with her thoughts.

"Happy bday Issy," her mom and dad texted as she opened the red front door.

“Thx!” She ran up the creaky steps to drop her backpack in her room, and ran right back down to begin making cake with her visiting great-grandmother, nicknamed Grandma Sophie. The sun shone through the big window above the sink, lighting the large, white kitchen and elevating Isabelle’s happiness. By the time her younger siblings ran through the front door, Rose and Trevor, they were welcomed by the smell of freshly baked cake and their sister desperately trying to reach the other end of the long island.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,” Lisa’s voice sang as her family gathered around the antique wood dining room table. Isabelle smiled as her eyes found each of her family members, although her dad gave Rose and Trevor the death glare until they put their phones down for the rest of the song. At Isabelle’s birthday dinner request, Grandma Sophie brought out her best homemade pizza, which the family happily tore into. Between bites, Isabelle’s mother pulled up the family group chat. “Whos coming 2 ur bday party?” “Did u invite preston,” Rose texted with a smirk before Isabelle could respond, making Trevor giggle. Isabelle’s face grew hot as the adults looked puzzled.

“Yes and hes coming,” she quickly wrote, intently focusing on her next bite of pizza. She could see Grandma Sophie smiling in her peripheral vision.

“Thx 4 the pizza its delicious,” trying desperately to change the subject. “Hold on Issy,” her dad interrupted. “This preston whats his deal?” “Hes just a guy i have in a few classes.” “Im sure thats all he is,” Rose sassed back. Isabelle threw her a “you’re dead” look which their dad picked up on.

“Please let him come dad hes a friend thats all,” Isabelle begged, and her dad sighed.

“Ok he can come i just might be supervising from kitchen.” Isabelle’s face lit up. “But i dont know why u want 2 like someone in person go online dating like everyone does. And what if it doesnt work out u have 2 see them everyday that sounds awful. Grandma sophies the only person i know who didnt meet their husband with a dating app.” This was now Isabelle’s turn to sigh.

“Please, let’s stop talking about this and focus on good food and celebrating,” Grandma Sophie politely asked, getting a grateful smile from Isabelle as her dad grumpily took another bite of pizza.

After scrubbing the mountain of dishes and wiping grimy counters, everyone started to disperse throughout the house. “Issy, come to the backyard with me. I have an extra special present for your special day,” Grandma Sophie texted, peaking her curiosity. Stepping onto the back patio in the cool evening air, Isabelle sat in the chair adjacent to the red lawn chair Grandma Sophie was casually seated in. She smiled at the orange sunset, and the sky that was beginning to darken against the trees and flowers of their small backyard.

“Happy birthday again, Issy.” Before Isabelle could finish her reply, she saw a wrinkly, veiny hand on her own, stopping her texting. She looked up and saw the warm, loving eyes of her Grandma Sophie sparkling back with the same icy blue of her own. Isabelle put down her phone, not sure of what to do. “This is my birthday present to you,” she slowly spoke, startling Isabelle nearly out of her chair. “Hearing the voice of a person, not a robot.” She seemed unconcerned about her great-granddaughter’s astonishment. Grandma Sophie can talk? She thought. Grandma Sophie seemed to read her mind. “Yes, I know how to talk. While I was growing up, society relied more and more on texting and emails for communication, until your grandparents’ generation forgot how to speak entirely. Of course, I taught my children how to speak since they were babies and we didn’t ever use texting when we could hear each other, but by the time they were teenagers it was looked down upon to use such an old fashioned way of communicating. They respected my wishes and talked until they moved out, but never did outside our home.” Isabelle’s mind was already flooding with questions. Her great-grandmother wisely gave her a moment to process what she’d heard. “And this all happened in such a short time?” Isabelle frantically texted. Grandma Sophie somberly nodded, staring at her hands in the lap of her floral skirt. “Your grandparents met online, who never taught their children how to speak, who then never taught you or your siblings how to speak.” “Y do u seem so sad about this? What harm has it done?”

 “When my husband passed, I realized I had no one to talk to without a screen between us. Talking isn’t just words. It’s how people truly connect on an intimate level with other people. When talking was forgotten, so was the pure, emotional connection we all desire deep down.” Isabelle was taken aback to hear such sadness in her voice. She’d never heard emotion in words before, she’d only heard Lisa’s calming, but still computerized voice. She sat back in her chair, thinking about all Grandma Sophie had spoken. Spoken! She was still shocked, hearing a human’s voice for the first time in her life. Grandma Sophie let her mull it over until she was ready to break the silence.

“So y me?” Isabelle texted her most pressing question. “U have lots of kids grandkids and greatgrandkids so y would u tell me?” “Because I’ve known for years that you’re different. You’re not like the other people who have turned themselves into dull, soulless forms doing nothing but texting until they die. You notice the world and people around you. You put down your phone and use your mind to think and wonder. And I think that subconsciously, you feel there’s something missing in your life. And that something is a sincere connection.” Isabelle didn’t need to think about this. She knew Grandma Sophie was right.

“Will u teach me to speak?” Her request was met with a smile across her great-grandmother’s face, erasing years of creases. “I thought you’d never ask.” Grandma Sophie already spent every weekend visiting the little family, and Isabelle had a lot to learn. She became frustrated in her first lesson when she could only get out a small “Ah,” which was the only noise she knew how to make from yelling at high school football games. This skill in no way came naturally. “You already know how to read, write, and comprehend speech,” Grandma Sophie encouraged. “All you need to do now is learn how to make the sounds with your voice.” They were met over the next few weeks with small victories as she was able to reproduce sounds of individual letters, and her progress began growing exponentially.

Just a couple months later, Isabelle slowly but confidently read out loud her biology textbook for the first time. She felt over the moon, whispering to herself every business sign and warning label she came across. However, this newfound energy came to a screeching halt when Grandma Sophie suggested talking to Preston. “Talking out loud? To Preston?” Isabelle said, her heart racing just thinking about the prospect.

“Do you really like him? Do you want to get to know him?”

“Yes!” “Then walk up to him and say something. Saying anything will get his attention. Who knows? Maybe you can teach him how to speak!” Isabelle set a goal for herself to talk to him by the end of the school week. Monday and Tuesday came and went. She was too nervous. Wednesday and Thursday came and went. She told herself she’d talk to him tomorrow. Friday morning dragged on. Friday afternoon dragged on even longer, and the ride home felt like the longest bus ride ever. Finally, Lisa’s voice announced her neighborhood stop, and she stepped off behind Preston. She tapped him on the shoulder before she could tell herself no. He stopped and turned around, but looked up when he noticed she didn’t have her phone in her hand. Isabelle was sure he could hear her heart pounding as she looked into his deep brown eyes, seeing them for the first time. She took a deep breath.

“Hi.”


Dr. Ismail Mohamed squinted at the headline of the news article on the screen in front of him; ‘Some women now found to be pregnant……’. He did not want to read further or look at the comments or the reactions to the article. He could imagine the hostility and the denial that would be unleashed yet again. He could almost feel the scars from the past year opening up, blood trickling out and his wounds re-emerging. The professional jealousies turning into scorn and ridicule. The plans to destroy him and a lifetime of good work. The readiness to think the worst of him. He could not endure that general willingness to accept that he had fulfilled the lowest requirements necessary to be labeled as a traitor and scum. This latest news update would not bring about vindication. There would be no apologies. The innocent are rarely forgiven for that which they are wrongly accused of while the guilty succeed in their plotting and planning. He thought back to that day a year ago and how it had all started.

The children rushed around the breakfast table. Dr. Ismail Mohamed returned home from the neighbourhood mosque to find books and bags strewn around. It seemed as if he would not have time to get to the newspapers this morning before rushing off to the hospital. Shoelaces to be tied and shirts to be tucked in. His wife, Sakeena Mohamed packed the lunchboxes, found the missing Mathematics book, tidied up the table and managed to get the children into the car with their father in time to go to school. “Daddy, do you have lots of surgeries today?” asked the youngest from the back seat of the car. “Daadd, can we have ice cream today?” asked the oldest from the passenger seat of the car. Dr. Ismail Mohamed smiled and thought to himself how grateful he was for his beautiful family. A lifetime of a practice in obstetrics and gynaecology meant that he was always aware of the challenges couples faced in creating their perfect family.

He walked in the doors of the hospital and made his way to the elevator to get to his office on the fourth floor of the building. He found it odd that Nurse Wijewardena walked past him and did not return his usual morning greeting and smile. He found it even stranger that Dr. Perera was about to enter the elevator on the third floor but abruptly turned around and walked away when the doors opened. He found it most peculiar when he saw women rushing around as he got out of the elevator shouting and gesturing. He did not see or hear the dozens of missed calls from Sakeena on his phone.

“What were you thinking?” they all said “Is this your way of making sure your lot stays in control?” “Are you a terrorist?” “So was the plan that you guys would go on having large families and expanding your businesses whilst we end up with nothing?” The accusations went on and on. The complaints piled on. There was a presumption of guilt. Colleagues and contemporaries. Neighbours and old friends. The common thread was an assumption of ‘us’ v ‘them’. The assertion of the unforgivable; a threat to the existence of the majority itself. The newspaper headline that broke the story read, ‘Muslim doctor carries out illegal sterilisations of thousands of non-Muslim women’.

Dr. Ismail Mohamed tried to explain the difference between a hysterosalpingogram which checked for blocked fallopian tubes and tubal ligation which is a surgical procedure where the fallopian tubes are tied, clamped, cut, banded or sealed closed. He attempted to draw a distinction between the facts and the claims. He fought against the allegations and defended himself against his detractors. “Why are they saying these things?” exclaimed Sakeena who was distraught over the story being spread across the nation. “Isn't there a way to prove them wrong? How could they say that you actually sterilised these women? What motive could you possibly have had to violate the oath that you took as a medical professional? Why would they destroy our family and our name like this?”

Dr. Ismail Mohamed read the posts and comments about him on social media. The spiteful mockery and xenophobic murmurings. The stirring up of incitement. He thought back to his schooling in his little rural village along the coastline and all the hopes his parents and teachers had for him as a child. He grieved the difficult childhood that had suddenly been thrust upon his own children. The burdens that had been placed upon their shoulders. He reflected on his time in medical school making new friends from various ethnicities and religions and the sharing of food, culture and experiences that came along with it. Friendships that had now soured. Kindness that had turned into harsh words. Trust replaced by betrayal. He understood that it fit within their plan. He had been unknowingly chosen as a lamb to the slaughter. A symbol of the struggle for dominance. A pawn in the game of chess.

Police investigations, arrest, detention and court cases; it was all a whirlwind of faces, conversations, processes and events. He marvelled at the surgical prowess so many had bestowed on him to be able to surreptitiously conduct illegal procedures on patients in surgical theatres filled with nurses and medical staff. Throughout the process of questioning by the police, time spent in jail and hours sitting in the courthouse he wondered about the women who had raised the complaints. Were they just like him; used and then tossed away like crumpled pieces of paper? Did they mourn over their inability to conceive and believe that it was really his fault? How would they react when they suddenly found themselves to be pregnant and realised the cost of their words? Could they have ever predicted the disastrous consequences of their contentions? Or was it really that there were no qualms in the conviction handed out? There was the assurance that there would be no absolution of guilt.

(Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.)


TW: abuse, violence Amnesia. That’s what I was diagnosed with once I woke up from my 3-month coma. The doctor reassured me that it would take some time for my memories to come back however they didn’t expect me to completely forget who I was as well. When they asked me my name it was so frustrating not being able to answer. It was on the tip of my tongue, yet I just couldn’t remember. The FBI was assigned to look after me because it was them who found me. And weirdly enough there was no trace of me in any database. Now that I was awake, they could only go on the fact that I had a British accent which didn’t solve any mysteries. Although I am thankful, I’m not a criminal, it would have been absolutely appalling if I had woken up just to go to jail.

A lovely lady named Sasha took me home since I had no recollection of any family. Technically I was skint too, the personal items from the hospital only contained an iPhone 6s, a packet of gum, a hair tie and $150. Sasha told me about when I bought into the hospital. I was beaten up badly, bruises all over my stomach, a couple broken ribs, a busted lip and cuts all over my body. The wound on my head needed 23 stitches. My body was dehydrated as fuck and I was (still am a little) malnourished. The FBI suspected that I was held captive before they found me unconscious in one of their old safe houses. So here we are now, trying to remember as much as I can to solve the mystery of my identity and what happened to me.

A man with a scar across his right cheek grabbed my hair clenching it tightly as he lifted me to my feet.

“I swear to God, I’ll kill you now bitch. You think you can try to escape Amara? Huh? I’ll show you exactly who you belong to puttana.”

His hands grabbed my throat and bashed my head into the concrete floor. An audible crack could be heard; a sticky substance trickled down my face, but the pain was too high for me to notice it. My captor’s dark murderous eyes stared into my soul as he continuously punched my stomach. The man dragged my body to the metal table in the room and snatched up the dull knife from the medical table beside it. His maniac gaze stared straight at me intent on slashing lines all over my body. I didn’t have the energy to cry but the knife cutting into my thighs wretched an ear-shattering scream out from my mouth. Tears leaked out of my eyes, I pleaded Marco to stop–

A gasp escaped my mouth and I shot up from the bed. Sasha, the poor thing, ran into the room with a gun clutched in her hand.

“Oh, sweetie what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Before I could free her from her worries, I ran into the bathroom and heaved anything I had in my stomach.

“I’m so sorry Sasha for worrying you. I just had a flashback. I was being tortured by my captor because I tried to escape. He- he was cutting into my skin with a knife while I pleaded for him to stop.” I sobbed out while laying my head on the toilet seat. It was so terrible being in that room.

“Oh, babe I’m so sorry.”

“Amara.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My name, I think my name is Amara.”

I don’t remember Sasha’s reply or getting back into bed, but the next morning I found myself warm under the duvet. Sasha was talking to her boss from the sound of it to tell them about my identity, well the first part of my name anyways. While on call she handed me a tray with some food on it signalling me to eat and get dressed. We were going to go to the FBI headquarters so that I could work with a psychologist and tell them about my flashback. God this whole situation is so messed up, why can’t I remember?

Sasha and I arrive at the FBI with Dr Kate waiting for me. She leads me into her office, and we talk about my flashback. Her whole aura was so welcoming and warm, I felt comfortable enough to tell her about my flashback.

“I was dragged into the basement and he was choking me. He smashed my head into the concrete and from what I remember used a dull knife to cut into me like a butcher. It was only him in the room, he punched my abdomen area. He also called me Amara, so I’m guessing that’s my name. I’m sorry, that’s all I can remember.”

She nodded her head, jotted down everything and asked it I could describe him at all. Turns out she was a very talented artist too.

“He had dark brown eyes, dirty brown hair and was about a head taller than me. When he lifted me up, I only came to his shoulders. He had a strong jawline; quite high cheekbones and I’m pretty sure had an Italian accent. Oh, and there was a scar across his right cheek.”

I hesitate before I tell her his name. I know it’s stupid, but I fear that the moment I say his name out loud he’ll pop out of nowhere and make good on his promise of killing me.

“I also know his name, but I don’t want to say it out loud. Can I write it instead?”

“Of course, sweetheart, anything that makes you comfortable.”  And with that she hands me a sticky note and a pen.

During the rest of my time in her office, Dr Kate was so accommodating. She offered me drinks, snacks, and she even played a few board games with me. Before I knew it, time had passed, and I was being escorted to Sasha’s home by some guards. The car passed many local food joints, the beach and also a tattoo shop. I don’t know why the tattoo shop stood out to me so much, but I felt an undeniable pull to it.

“Hey, Amara can you clean up the front, I have to do inventory.” Something seemed off with my boss, he’s never done inventory and not asked me to help. He says it gets done faster with the two of us working together. What is going on?

James saunters off to the back and I decide to follow after a minute or so. Peeking through the curtain, I see a tall man entering through the back door and James looking very nervous. I can’t make out what they’re talking about, but it seems very heated. I barely make out the words money, more time, no and please being thrown between them. I don’t have a good feeling about this, but I carry on watching their interaction. My spine stiffens as I hear the word omertà come out of the tall guy’s mouth. Fuck. The tall guy pulls out a gun with a silencer on it and points it directly at James. He doesn’t hesitate to shoot James point blank between his eyes. A gasp must have escaped my mouth because the tall guy squinted in my direction and walked out of the curtain. I was too stunned to move in his presence. I tried to run but before I could even get past the counter, he hauled me over his shoulder and carried me to his car.

“Are you alright miss?” One of the FBI agents, Tony, asked with a sympathetic look in his eyes.

With tears filling my eyes, I nodded and stared out the window. Washington D.C. in the winter was quite nice. The Capitol building looked so majestic surrounded by snow. Seeing it

“Amara Pierce, I am so lucky to have you in my life. You have taught me so much. You make me want to be a better person and you make me a better person by just being around. You are perfect and so beautiful I get so happy when I remember that you’re all mine. And even though your tastebuds are a little questionable, seriously I don’t understand how you like pineapple on pizza, I love you with all of my heart. So will you make me the happiest man in this universe and be my wife?”

“Oh Max of course I will!”

Max slid the emerald ring onto my finger, and we walked around the Capitol grounds, hand in hand, listening to Christmas songs with Jack Frost certainly nipping at our noses.

Tearing up once again as I enter Sasha’s flat, I miss the life that I once lived. I missed my fiancé and my family but most of all I missed my memories.

Once Sasha returned home, I told her all about my flashbacks and had her record them. I just didn’t want to go back to the FBI again tomorrow no matter how accommodating everyone was. I was exhausted from doing nothing and was pretty dizzy throughout the whole day. The next day was uneventful, I rested at Sasha’s home and she went to work. The day after, I had to go into the FBI because they think they found my identity. Amara Pierce, daughter of Robert and Émeline Pierce. Her parents murdered in an ‘accidental’ break-in only a month before her disappearance. She inherited her parent’s million-dollar fortune even though she was estranged from them. Hearing about it all only worsened my headache especially since I had been reading news articles about my life as soon as I found out my full name. Why is this happening to me? I was happy before; my life was good. So why is this happening now?

The next week went by quick with lots to unpack. I had constant meetings with Dr Kate and was starting to unlock more memories of my previous life. They’d come to me in random bursts triggered by certain places, textures or smells. My favourite memory was when we walked past a hotdog stand, I remembered how much Max loved them. We finished our first ever date with hotdogs.

The week before Christmas, the FBI had informed Max about me. He took exceptional care of me and I moved in with him. That Monday I had a flashback of my parents they day I left them. It was because of my relationship with Max. It felt horrible that I had lost them forever and never got to tell them how much I actually loved them. Tuesday the FBI found Marco’s identity and put out a BOLO. By Wednesday they had gotten multiple tips about him and arrested him for assault and battery, kidnapping, murder of James and the attempted murder of me. The interrogation of him uncovered a lot more information that I expected. Max was in the Italian mafia; James was also in it too and Max was friends with him only to keep an eye on him because he was a rat. Max had hired Marco to kill James unfortunately, I was at the right place at the wrong time, so Marco kidnapped me and tried to kill me too. Max was in a relationship with me because of the money he knew I’d receive after my parent’s death, so he organised that hit too. It was so much to take in that I nearly went into another coma. Thursday morning the FBI interrogated Max and arrested him. It was heartbreaking finding out that the only family I had was the one who had caused all the misfortune in my life. Friday, I went back to my parents' house and cleaned it up, looking through all the memories I made there from my birth to my graduation. It felt nice to truly be home again. To be at my home.

So now it’s Christmas and I’m here in my home working on getting all of my memories back and enjoying Christmas with the new friends that I made.

“Let’s toast. A toast to new beginnings.”


I have always been a relentlessly positive cheerleader. I was chosen as Co-Captain of the Swim Team and President of the Choir Department in high school not because I was particularly skilled at either of those activities – frankly I was pretty bad at both. I was chosen because I motivated people to go farther than they ever realized they could go. That I could cheer them on, on the most difficult of days, and help them to know that they were both wanted and needed. I gave warm, enveloping hugs, and not so much advice as encouragement. I truly have felt, for the last 39 years, that my job was to make everyone live better. In fact, at Christmas this year I had 85 presents for my two nephews and niece, just because I wanted them to know that they were abundantly loved. The problem is, I have never learned to cheer for myself. When I was in my mid-twenties, I was diagnosed with a debilitating psychiatric illness. It took an absurd amount of time to get the most accurate diagnoses, but I am currently labeled as Severe Bipolar 1 and OCD. I was crushed. I should have known there was something wrong with me. That I would never be as good as everyone else. That there was a cap on how much I would be able to achieve and limits to how many blessings I could receive. I suddenly started losing everything. I lost my ability to volunteer with the Muscular Dystrophy Association, which was one of the most rewarding parts of my life. I lost the ability to work in jobs that I absolutely loved. I suddenly had no hope to work at all anymore. I lost the ability to buy my own insurance, and had to stick with Medicare, which is both costly and doesn’t cover nearly as much. I lost the hope of being a mom – one of my biggest dreams. I would be an AMAZING mom – especially to a child with special needs – but how can you be a mom if you can’t even stay out of the hospital for a year, when you have depressions that are so deep its miraculous you stay alive, when you have manias that make it too difficult to think, you’re purchasing a ridiculous number of items without even knowing, and you can’t figure out why it’s not okay to strip down in public because you are so hot you can’t stand it. Even I realize, when I am most confused, that you be a mom in those situations? Some days it is impossible to just get out of bed. Plus, I have thousands and thousands of dollars worth of medical expenses. Last year my medical expenses made up almost half of my total income. I can’t purchase items just for fun, or go on a vacation that I pay for, because I don’t even have enough to pay my bills. It gets to the point that I wonder…why even try? Everything I do fails. Everything I have is taken away. A year ago I was trying to run a 5k. Then I started getting chronic sinus infections that we simply haven’t been able to cure, and 9 months later I am struggling to get up, crying in my bed because my throat hurts so intensely, my ears are plugged up and I’m running a fever that leaves me shivering so much that all the blankets I have just aren’t enough. Forget daily living skills. I’m lucky if I take a shower once or twice a week. I barely ever brush my teeth or my hair. I can’t keep up with maintaining a clean house. It is a disaster all the time, even with the help of my mom coming over several days a week. I haven’t been inside a grocery store in months, partly because I am so overwhelmed about the crowded aisles and having to wait in long lines, shifting from one foot to the other, praying that maybe one or two people in front of me will leave, or at the very least just have a couple of items. Partly because I am so exhausted all the time that I wouldn’t even be able to walk through the aisles, even if there were only a few things on my color coated, organized by aisle, list. Then the mania comes. At first it feels great! I put twenty five items on my to do lists, scheduled every 10-30 minutes, and I cross off every single item. I feel incredible, finally a good day! But I should know by now, that I don’t have good days. As soon as I feel good, my support team starts telling me I’m manic. My head is swirling as I go from one topic to the next, and I can’t understand why no one understands me or is not interested in the things I am talking about. How could anyone not be interested in a ten minute debate about the pros and cons of circular vs deep dish pizza?! Why does everyone want to ruin it when I finally feel good? Maybe I like not sleeping! Maybe I’m glad I bought three paper back books, 7 kindle books, and put on hold 7 books from the library?! Maybe this is the best I have ever felt and I want to keep it that way! Bipolar is hard. There are very few days that are just good. Just level. It’s exhausting for both me and my support team, and I don’t really understand what is happening. I have no hope. My amazing cheerleading abilities just don’t stand up to the difficulties I’m challenged with – at least partly because they’re mine, and I’ve never been great at cheering myself on. But then one day I woke up and discovered something from my highschool years. Something old that I thought I had lost. It was my Chutzpah. My drive to fight. I realized there are so many problems in the field of mental health, and there are so few people with a mental illness as serious as mine that are also brilliant and skilled at writing. I had written previously – mostly papers for my difficult educational journey, or individualized lesson plans as I did my best to support my Severely Cognitively Impaired students. But now I had something arguably more important to write about. To tell my story with the effort to make change in the mental health symptom. I finally had a purpose. A reason to write. Something to focus on, on the days that are so difficult I want to give up. I even discovered that on days when I can’t get out of my bed, I can write outlines as a Gmail draft on my phone so that when I was ready to write out the article, my notes would pop up in my email on my laptop.

Since that time I have realized that this was the best present anyone could have given me. A purpose, hope, someone to cheer me on. The most exciting part of the whole thing is, though, is that I found it myself. Like Robert Frost wrote in his poem The Road Less Traveled, I didn’t give up, I didn’t listen to voices that said I couldn’t make a difference in the world, “I, I took the “road” less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.”


Oliver. How do I explain who Oliver is? Well you see Oliver is a tall, handsome and mysterious guy. He is the perfect example of a stereo typical guy women fall for. And I would to, but I don’t want to because relationships are a whole lot of work which I run from. But I think the world is out to get me. This story starts with me, Rory, who after finding out her fiancé cheated on her decided to take a weeklong vacation on an island. Even my boss gave me a sympathy talk when I handed in my leave application, everyone thought I was grieving and needed some time off. But the truth is I knew my fiancé was cheating on me I just waited for the right moment to break it off and make him look like the bad guy. Now he gets the heat and I get a weeklong vacation on a tropical island. Coming back to Oliver so I’m on the tropical island and since it was last minute the hotel didn’t have many rooms. The hotel only had one room left and it was either mine or Oliver’s. Oliver didn’t listen to the receptionist when he politely asked if he could give up and let me have the room since I was “emotionally stressed”. “I don’t care, I am taking the room” he had said without a hint of emotion. I couldn’t take it anymore so I went to talk to him myself. “Mr?” I started. “Oliver Moscelot” he answered monotonously. “Mr. Moscelot I just broke of my wedding because my fiancé cheated on me and I’m not mentally capable of going out and searching for another hotel. I would appreciate it if you could…” he stopped me by raising his hand to my face.

“Miss, your life is of no concern to me. I will be taking this room” I had no other choice and as the last restore I pretended to faint. I fainted right into his arms making sure everyone in the lobby had seen us.  Before you think Oliver is someone I’m about to fall for, you are absolutely wrong. He is the stubborn man who refused to give into my sad story. And if I have to pretend to faint and make myself his responsibility just to get what I want so be it. Oliver after the scene at the lobby and aggressive stares he got from the by passer had to give in. He had to carry me and my luggage to the only room available. He placed me on the bed and my luggage by the bedside but didn’t leave. “Miss you can stop pretending now. Wake up” he said and I had a feeling he was staring at me. But I didn’t move I was going to stand my ground or just take over the bed. “Fine keep on pretending but I’m not leaving this room either” his voice was heavy and it felt like he was closer than before. Then the footsteps came, he was getting closer and then I felt him sitting on the bed. Without a second thought I opened my eyes and leaped to the other side of the bed.

“If you want to stay, stay but do not involve yourself with my work and don’t expect me to give in that sad story. You don’t seem sad so expect me to feel sad for you” with that he opened his laptop and typed away. I ran out of there as fast as I could and spent the next 7 hours at the beach and shopping and dinner. It was the best exhausting day of my life. While shopping I had bought a really cute jumper which made me quite happy. On the way back to my room I had prayed he had left or developed a conscious because I wasn’t sharing a room with him. I entered and he wasn’t there. “He left. I win. I win. He left” I sang while jumping on the bed. It was totally inappropriate but worth it. I stayed in bed until I was half asleep. And then the window broke, the window broke and a tall dark figure entered. I screamed at the top of my lungs but he covered my mouth with his hands. “Shut up!!” he said until I went silent. He took off his mask and it was Oliver. “What the hell, why did you break the window?” “Grab your things” “I will not, if this is your way of kicking me out it won’t work. I’m not leaving!” “I’m trying to protect you” Before I could get the last word another man entered through the window. Oliver placed the mask back on, grabs the lamp from the side table and threw it at the other man. The man ducked and Oliver pushed him out and he fell 5 stories. “I’ll grab my things” I said and quickly stuffed 2 dresses, my sneakers, my phone and a few other things into my bag. Oliver grabbed something from his bag and led me out of the room. We took the back route out of the hotel and headed into the forest. “Where are we going and who were those people?” I questioned but he remained silent. “Say something, I don’t know who you are and that guy. What’s going on?” “Shut up for a minute. I told you not to get involved but you had to. And now you have these questions. I’ll take you to the airport and you can leave the island. So till then shut up.” It was pitch black and the best time to get to the airport but Oliver had to rest in the forest till dawn. He fell asleep the second he hit the ground. I on the other hand couldn’t stop thinking about the incident at the hotel. A few hours passed and I remembered Oliver grabbed something from his bag. I reached for his pocket to get it but he grabbed my arm and pinned me to the ground. “Oliver let me go” I said looking start in his eyes. My arm started to hurt from where I was pinned. He let go after few minutes. “Miss…” “My name is Rory” “Rory this is a dangerous business I’m in. I’m trying to get you out so please don’t make this harder” for the first time I could see worry in his eyes. “Ok” that’s all I could muster. An hour later we started to walk further into the forest. Oliver had held my hand the moment we started the walk. It was nice that he was so focused in protecting me. We walked until we were deep into the forest. Oliver kept looking at the screen of his phone. And I thought we were lost. “Are we lost?” I asked He kept his eyes on the screen and on the forest “I don’t think so, maybe that way”. We went in another direction and then another and now I was sure we were lost. We had been walking for two hours and we were still lost with in the forest. At last he decided to stop and we sat down on the ground. I sat in front of him, he looked very tired. I took a bottle from my bag and handed it to him. He took it and finished half the water in one go. He offered the rest to me which I gladly took. “Maybe we can go back to the hotel. Staying here is of no use” “We can’t. Going back is more dangerous” “But…Fine. Can you at least tell me why are we running?” “Fine. But take this to your grave because if you tell anyone you will be as good as dead” “I won’t tell promise” He took out a hello kitty pen drive and handed it to me. “This is what they are after. I work for a man called Rufus, he is the leader of a very dangerous mafia. The pen drive holds all the info against him.” “So you are betraying this Rufus guy” I asked skeptically. “Kind of. Yes. I’m handing it over to a friend who has a friend who can use it while I will go underground.” “Sounds like a plan and…I’m the variable that you didn’t expect. I’m so sorry” “Don’t worry. I’ll get you out and then be on my way”

“Is your head getting heavy?” “Yeah” Our heads were getting heavy and my vision was getting blurry. Oliver fainted in front of me and the world went black for me after a few seconds as well. When I woke up Oliver and I were tied up. And a man with several bodyguards with guns surrounded us. “Mr. Moscelot hand over the pen drive” the man said. “I don’t have a clue of what you are talking about” “I don’t want to give out threats with her here but if you insist…” the man walked towards me, grabbed my hair and placed a knife in my neck “pen drive for her life. If you didn’t find value in her life you wouldn’t have kept her with you” “Stop, don’t do anything to her. I don’t have the pen drive I dropped it somewhere in the forest. I’m so sorry I got you into this.” His words got me all emotional. “It’s not your fault you tried to keep me safe but I kept causing problems” “Stop being so emotional, Oliver it doesn’t suit you” “Just let her go I’ll find the pen drive for you” The man dragged me and this time aimed a gun at me. “Last chance Oliver” “No!!! It’s in her pocket” The man shot me. Well pretended to shoot me. I was alive. The man kneeled down and untied me. I got up and took the pen drive out of my pocket and handed it to the man. Oliver looked at me in shock as the man handed me the gun. “Oliver. Oliver. Oliver. You tried so hard to keep the pen drive safe to keep me safe for what. When in reality you landed in my tarp. I know what you are thinking but I don’t work for Rufus. No. I AM RUFUS.” His life came crashing down on him, I’m assuming. “I couldn’t let you leave with that info. So everything I told you at the hotel wasn’t all a lie. My dumb fiancé did cheat on me but he was just a cover up anyway and breaking up with him gave me the idea of how to get you off guard. No one thinks a harmless looking woman could even run a mafia.” My whole life is a cover up, my job my love life everything. And because of Oliver I could have lost it all but now I’ll make him pay. “Good bye Oliver” I said aiming the gun at him. And then I shoot him, he was dead and my secret was safe. -The End-


Stubborn as a Bull: What do you do when two best friends fall in love with you, but only one may have your best interest at heart? The other one wants to have sex without serious commitments. Living in a world with friends sometimes bring on hardship because of the choices lying right in front without much remorse for turning the other direction. Life can deliver a decision-making conquest of two separate worlds and both must be attended to avoid losing friends forever. Lena moved to a city taking a job with a decent pay, since graduating from college. Her two best friends are resided there and offered to be a friend with guidance to the end when trouble lurks her way. Having friends is not the problem, the only complex issue is the time spent having fun on the Rooftop Club has captured more than just friendship feelings enforcing a different kind of love for Lena. After the exposure of these wild feelings, the entire situation turns into a crazy love battle, where each man expects Lena to make a final decision on who will be the lucky one chosen. These two males are established with real jobs to offer support and is looking to support Lena. Lena is torn between the two because she loves them both as friends, and ever since she found out how each one feels about her, the comfortable world, she has developed has flipped upside down. Now, the raging emotions are coming to a head for her to make a final choice or what’s worst, take a risk of losing them both as friends, altogether. Lena’s cousin came to the large city to help with the move. On the way to return the Rental truck, she had gotten lost in traffic and had to turn into a gas station due to her car began spatting and jerking. After speaking to the clerk, she agreed to leave the car there overnight and return the next day to get the vehicle. Without a second thought, Lena began to walk away remembering several miles down the road, her cell phone is left in the car with her small purse, which is locked in the trunk. She could kick herself for not remembering to grab those most important items before leaving. Several miles down the road, she recalls the Rooftop Club, where she and her friends would sometimes hang out during her visits, while attending college. The next thought Lena foresaw is to return to the club and take a chance on running into at least one of her best friends. Lena carried a small pull bag on wheels with several of changes of clothes inside with a few personal items to maintain good hygiene, which she took very seriously. She walked up the stairs to get to the roof of this fabulous club, which held fond memories for the three friends as music rung through the air. Reaching the main entrance to the club, Lena notices both friends sitting at the bar enjoying a game on the wall hanging flat screen. Both had a few drinks and Luke glances to see her enter the area and gets louder, but turns his head quickly as to not notice her at all. Next to him is a female sitting and laughing, while enjoying the game as well. Jim never saw her, as he continued to watch the game.  Lena decides to continue her journey to the rooftop where the music was playing to relieve her mind of the mistakes made, thus far. Having no cell phone and friends right before her presence, but expects no direct attention, because she needed time to think and figure out her next move on how to return to her new apartment. After searching her pockets, she has a total of five ones and some change in her possession. Therefore, a choice of a cheese, garlic soft pretzel with a glass of water or a mild alcoholic beverage to relax her nerves. Of course, she chose the food with water, at least her stomach would be satisfied. She was reluctant to ask her friends on the level below for anything. The vibes just didn’t feel right for the moment and pinpointing what doesn’t feel right is a problem. A man looked about 30ish was sitting alone told the waitress to take a mixed drink over to Lena, in which Lena smiled, while holding the small glass up thanking him for being kind but looked away quickly to avoid giving him an inviting look. "Well, the night is turning out to be not so bad after all." She sits quietly and ate her soft pretzel with much enjoyment because she hadn’t had any dinner for that day. Her stomach felt painful and uncomfortable. What a sign of relief she began to experience. Sitting here for several hours, Lena decides to head down stairs to the next level to see if the game was over, and speak to her two friends. She notices Luke’s female friend is gone and the minute Luke sees her for the second time, he rushes over to greet his friend. Instead of a smile with a simple hello, he smiles and kisses her on the lips gently putting on a show for Jim. Jim gives a look of disapproving his gesture. Luke grabs her by the arm and pulls her to the opened elevator to head down stairs and leave. Upon reaching outside, Lena stops in her tracks and say “Luke, what are you doing” Luke replies with “we are going to my place, which is not far from here.” Then, he proceeds to ask “I’ve been calling you, where have you been and why are you carrying your overnight bag, if you don’t plan to stay someplace for the night?”  Luke never gave Lena an opportunity to explain the ordeal she experienced earlier and the disposition it placed her in with emotional shame for not remembering her small purse and cell phone to call for help. The two-mile walk to the Rooftop Club was very tiresome, but Lena had to stand her ground. Don’t mention when Luke saw her the first time and never acknowledged seeing her because another female was there with him. This is the same man who claims to love her. Lena could not stop her mind from going farther with points of view to examine his actions and figure why a friend would behave in such a manner. Consequently, the moment he constructs a serious look on his face, looks right into her eyes and say “I love you... Lena!” This statement of proposing love struck a nerve, especially after what she had just witnessed. Immediately stopped completely and said to Luke “Yeah.....right!” She pulled her arm loose from his embrace and walked back to the club with tears in her eyes from the hurt of her dearest friend ignoring her in the presence of another female. What, hurt this has caused Lena to feel to go along with the other mishaps that has taken place earlier. All Lena could think of at this moment is she misses the comfort and true meaning of friendship she thought would be there until the end of time. She was devastated. Going back inside the Rooftop Club was the only option left in hopes of Jim still being there. Luckily, Jim was sitting at the bar, speaking with the drink mix master. The moment he notices Lena had return, he immediately jumps up from the bar stool to greet her with a gentle kiss of comfort and an apology for not noticing her entrance before. He asked, “what happened?” Because, she looked distraught from distress, which places her in a disorganized position. Jim ordered her a glass of white wine to relax her nerves, while she explained all about her ordeal and the unexpected greeting received from Luke. Luke portrays the image of a strong personality bad-boy type full of excitement that always made Lena’s day, until he hurt her enforcing a strangeness of emotions by ignoring her presence. Jim is somewhat the opposite type of guy, but has the upmost respect for Lena’s best interest. Lena had asked herself quietly, when all alone “whether or not if she might get bored with Jim.” Lena’s question of choice remains with her, whilst the two of them walked to his car and heads over to his place. The late-night hour represented a time for rest and will handle the vehicle business in the morning. At Jim’s condo, he places Lena in the spare bedroom, providing a cloth and towel for a shower. Lena contacts her cousin. Jim ensures that she was alright, waves goodnight and turns in for the night. Lena lays her head down on the soft pillow with the words of expression inside her mind yelling, “WOW! What a night!” before drifting off to a deep and relaxing sleep. Waking up with thoughts of the Luke’s direct approach, while wondering how he really feels about her, but may never admit the excitement of the two exploring one another just to see if there is compatibility and real connection worth taking a long journey as one. THE END