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8 | 8 | with motion sickness. Other than that, morning sickness with my first child for 5 months was the only puking I have done. Up until this Christmas day, I had not thrown up for 15 years. I broke that record and made up for all those years in 6 days. None of us could eat for about two weeks. It was horrible. I bring this up because I think there should be laws that only person can get the flu at a time in a family. I don't know who to talk to about this, but it is unfair for a mother to have to deal with. I came to this conclusion last night while I was up most of the night with two sons suffering from the flu. It is going on three days now and neither one of them has slept for the last two nights because of the attachment they have with "John". I breathe a sign of relief that we made it past Christmas before this hit, but now I await to see how many of us get it. Unfortunately when Mom gets sick I still have to be mom. No quitting for me. I am keeping my distance and crossing my fingers. So with yesterday being the last day before everyone went back to school, we wracked our brains trying to find something to do as our last "hurrah". After a lot of thoughtful contemplation we decided to have a Nerf gun war. Feeling like I do today, I wish I wouldn't have suggested it. We got all of the guns and ammo together and found a place for the war. We sat up the bunkers and made up teams. After the first round we decided that the teams weren't working for us so it suddenly became a "free - for - all". I realized after about 45 minutes why they suggest you wear protective eyewear. I was hit in the face 4 times. I nailed my son right between the eyes once and just as he turned around his sister shot him in the forehead. Ears were impaled, and heads were shot. Nothing was sacred people, nothing. One thing that has been a problem with me for years is that if I get laughing, I quickly become immobilized. I lose all strength in the body and can do nothing to protect myself. This is a huge weakness of mine and it has been used against me many times. Yesterday was no exception. Some of the Nerf ammo has velcro on one end. I shot my daughter in the butt and the ammo was just hanging there. She could not deny I hit her, the proof was there waving to the world. I started laughing so hard that I couldn't pull it together. In my moment of weakness, my son shot and hit me in the tooth. That was it. I fell to the ground unable to move because I was laughing so hard, tears flowing. It took me a good 10 minutes to get myself back in the game. Not once was I able to be "King of the Ring". I never could get everyone out so that I was the last person standing. I seriously need to brush up on my skills. I have to admit I pwned on loading. I could load and shoot faster than you can say "Bob's Yer Uncle". I had to, I was an easy target for everyone, which pretty much sucked. It has been decided that the war must have a second, third and fourth round at least. I have to admit, despite the pain … it was pretty Tags: Children, crazy, Family, Fun, happiness, Humor, Kids, laugh, laughing, Life, Love, mormon, Motherhood, revenge, stupidity, Teenagers, Teens, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter - Day Saints |
9 | 0 | There were, once upon a time, a king and queen of Denmark who had an only son, a handsome and clever lad. When he was eighteen, his father, the old king, fell very ill, and there was no hope that he would ever get well again. The queen and the prince were very unhappy, for they loved him dearly; but though they did all they could, he only grew worse and worse, and, one day, when the summer had come and the birds were singing, he raised his head and, taking a long look out of the window, fell back dead. They travelled all day, only stopping now and then to rest, and already the queen began to be better and to take a little interest in the things she saw. Just as the evening was coming on they entered the forest. Here it was quite dark, for the trees grew so close together that the sun could not shine through them, and very soon they lost the path, and wandered helplessly about wondering what they should do. 'Didn't I tell you so?' cried the prince. 'Stay here a moment and I will go and see if I can get food and shelter for the night.' And away he ran as fast as he could go, for by this time they were very hungry, as they had brought very little food with them and had eaten up every scrap! When one takes a long journey on foot one does not like to have too much to carry. The prince entered the house and looked about him, going from one room to the other, but seeing nobody and finding nothing to eat. At last, as he was going sorrowfully away, he caught sight of a sword and shirt of mail hanging on the wall in an inner room, with a piece of paper fastened under them. On the paper was some writing, which said that whoever wore the coat and carried the sword would be safe from all danger. No, no; I am afraid! 'cried the queen.' We shall be attacked and killed! It is a robbers' den: I am sure it is! '' You get into bed, mother, 'he said,' and I'll lie down by the side. Don't be alarmed; you can sleep quite safely till the morning. 'And he lay down with his sword in his hand, and kept watch until the day began to break; then the queen woke up and said she was quite rested and ready to start again.' First I'll go out into the forest and see if I can find our road, 'said the prince.' And while I'm gone you light the fire and make some coffee. We must eat a good breakfast before we start. 'After he had gone the queen lit the fire, and then thought she would like to see what was in the other rooms; so she went from one to another, and presently came to one that was very prettily furnished, with lovely pictures on the walls, and pale blue curtains and soft yellow cushions and comfortable easy chairs. As she was looking at all these things, suddenly a trap - door opened in the floor, and the robber - chief came out of the hole and seized her ankles. The queen almost died of fright, and shrieked loudly, then fell on her knees and begged him to spare her life.' You need not do that exactly, 'said the robber.' When he returns, just lie on the bed and say that you have been taken ill, and add that you have dreamed that in a forest, a mile away, there are some beautiful apples. If you could only get some of these you would be well again, but if not you will die. 'The queen shuddered as she listened. She was fond of her son, but she was a terrible coward; and so in the end she agreed, hoping that something would occur to save the prince. She had hardly given her promise when a step was heard, and the robber hastily hid himself.' Oh! but dreams don't mean anything, 'said the prince.' There is a magician who lives near here. I'll go to him and ask for a spell to cure you. '' My dreams always mean something, 'said the queen, shaking her head.' If I don't get any apples I shall die. 'She did not know why the robber wanted to send the prince to this particular forest, but as a matter of fact it was full of wild animals who would tear to pieces any traveller who entered it.' Twenty years! 'exclaimed the prince.' Then you had better shut your eyes, for when you have been sitting there so long it might hurt you to go too suddenly into the daylight. So you are the Princess of Arabia, whose beauty is famous throughout all the world! I, too, am a prince. '' No, 'replied the prince,' I cannot do that - I must live and die in my own country. But at the end of a year I will follow you and marry you. 'And that was all he would say.' I |
9 | 1 | will die before I part from it, 'said the prince.' And if at the end of a year I am still living, I will come. I believe I have heard that at the other side of this forest there is a port from which ships sail to Arabia. Let us hasten there at once. 'Hand in hand they set off through the forest, and when they came to the port they found a ship lust ready to sail. The princess said good - bye to the prince, and went on board the vessel, and when she reached her own country there were great rejoicings, for her parents had never expected to see her again. She told them how a prince had saved her from the robbers, and was coming in a year's time to marry her, and they were greatly pleased.' That is a strange fellow! If he had gone into the forest the wild beasts must have eaten him unless he has a powerful charm to protect him. If that is so we must get it away from him. '' We must think of a way to get it, 'he said.' When he comes in say you are well again, and have some food ready for him. Then, whilst he is eating, tell him you dreamed that he was attacked by wild beasts, and ask him how he managed to escape from them. After he has told you I can easily find a way to take his charm from him. '' How are you, mother! 'he said gaily.' Here are your apples. Now you will soon be well again, and ready to come away with me. 'Whilst he was eating she said to him:' I had a horrible dream while you were away. I saw you in a forest full of wild animals, and they were running round you and growling fiercely. How did you manage to escape from them? 'The prince's blood grew cold at these words. Then a thought struck him, and he turned to his mother:' Is this your doing? 'he asked sternly. And though she burst into tears and denied it, the prince knew she was not telling the truth. Meanwhile the poor prince was wandering about in the forest, hoping to find someone who would help him, and perhaps take him into service, for now he had no money and no home. It so happened that there had been a great hunt in the forest, and the wild beasts had all fled before the hunters and were hiding, so nothing did him any harm. At last, one day, just when his food was all gone and he had made up his mind that he must surely die of hunger, he came to the port whence the ships sailed for Arabia. One vessel was just ready to start, and the captain was going on board when he saw the prince.' Why, here is a poor blind fellow! 'he said.' No doubt that is the work of the robbers. Let us take him to Arabia with us. Would you like to come, my good man? 'he asked the prince. Oh, how glad he was to hear someone speak kindly to him again! And he answered that he would, and the sailors helped him to climb up the side of the ship. When they got to Arabia the captain took him to the public baths, and ordered one of the slaves to wash him. Whilst he was being washed the princess's ring slipped off his finger and was afterwards found by the slave who cleaned out the bath. The man showed it to a friend of his who lived at the palace.' At last you have come! The year is over, and I thought you were dead. Now we will be married immediately. 'And she went home and told the king that he was to send an escort to bring her betrothed to the palace. Naturally the king was rather surprised at the sudden arrival of the prince; but when he heard that he was blind he was very much annoyed. But the princess had had her own way all her life, and in the end the king gave way as he had always done. The prince was taken to the palace with much ceremony and splendour; but in spite of this the king was not contented. Still, it could not be helped, and really it was time the princess was married, though she looked as young as ever. There had been hundreds of knights and princes who had begged her to bestow her hand upon them, but she would have nothing to do with anyone; and now she had taken it into her head to marry this blind prince, and nobody else would she have.' Yes, indeed, you can see, 'cried the princess.' To think that my mother's bed has really given back your sight! 'and she went to the bank and sat down again; and by - and - by, as the day was hot, the princess fell asleep. As the prince watched her he suddenly saw something shining on her neck. It was a little golden lamp that gave out a bright light, and it hung from a golden chain. The prince thought he would like to examine it more closely, so he |
9 | 2 | unfastened the chain, but as he did so the lamp fell to the ground. Before he could pick it up a hawk flew in, snatched up the little lamp and flew away again with it. The prince set off in pursuit, and ran on and on without being able to catch the bird, until at length he had lost his way. Trying to find it, he wandered on, up and down, until he came to the forest where he had found the princess. Meantime, the princess woke up, and finding herself alone she set out to look for him. In the end she also lost her way, and as she was walking about, not knowing what to do, the robbers captured her and took her back to the cave from which the prince had rescued her. So there they were after all their trouble - no better off than before! The prince wandered on, trying to find his way back to Arabia, until he chanced one day to meet twelve youths, walking gaily through the forest, singing and laughing. 'Where are you going?' he asked. And they told him they were looking for work. Then he went away, and the young men, left to themselves, had a fine time of it; for they did no work, and only amused themselves with singing and drinking. Every day they found the table laid with good things to eat and drink, and when they had finished, the plates and dishes were cleared away by invisible hands. Only the prince, who was sad for his lost princess, ate and drank sparingly, and worked hard keeping the house in order. And that was all. Now they might take the sacks of gold and go, and the young men went off in such a hurry that the prince was left behind. Presently, they met an old man who asked for money. When he heard that, the prince knew where she was; and that was the beginning of her rescue. So he disguised himself to look like a pedlar and travelled on until he reached his own city, where his mother, the queen, and the robber - chief were living. Then he went in to a goldsmith's shop and ordered a great number of kitchen pots to be made out of pure gold. That was not an order the goldsmith had every day, but the things were ready at last, saucepans and kettles and gridirons all of pure gold. Then the prince put them in his basket and went up to the palace, and asked to see the queen. 'I really don't know what to say,' said the queen. 'Wait till my husband comes back - men understand such things better; and then, as you are a stranger, he would like to chat with you a little.' The prince bowed, and waited silently in a corner. Now the boy's favourite toy was a golden ball, and with this he would play from morning till night, without troubling anybody. One day, as he was sitting in the summer - house in the garden, making his ball run all along the walls and catching it again, he noticed an old woman with an earthen pitcher coming to draw water from a well which stood in a corner of the garden. In a moment he had caught his ball and flung it straight at the pitcher, which fell to the ground in a thousand pieces. The old woman started with surprise, but said nothing; only turned round to fetch another pitcher, and as soon as she had disappeared, the boy hurried out to pick up his ball. Scarcely was he back in the summer - house when he beheld the old woman a second time, approaching the well with the pitcher on her shoulder. She had just taken hold of the handle to lower it into the water, when - crash! And the pitcher lay in fragments at her feet. Of course she felt very angry, but for fear of the pasha she still held her peace, and spent her last pence in buying a fresh pitcher. But when this also was broken by a blow from the ball, her wrath burst forth, and shaking her fist towards the summer - house where the boy was hiding, she cried: 'Who is the silent princess? And why should it be a punishment to fall in love with her?' he asked himself, and received no answer. However, that did not prevent him from putting the question again and again, till at length he grew so weak and ill that he could eat nothing, and in the end was forced to lie in bed altogether. His father the pasha became so frightened by this strange disease, that he sent for every physician in the kingdom to cure him, but no one was able to find a remedy. Their preparations were soon made, and early one morning the two set out. But neither old man nor young had the slightest idea of where they were going, or what they were undertaking. First they lost their way in a dense forest, and from that they at length emerged in a wilderness where they wandered for six months, not seeing a living creature and finding scarcely anything to eat or drink, till they became nothing but skin and bone, while their garments hung in tatters about them. |
9 | 3 | They had forgotten all about the princess, and their only wish was to find themselves back in the palace again, when, one day, they discovered that they were standing on the shoulder of a mountain. The stones beneath them shone as brightly as diamonds, and both their hearts beat with joy at beholding a tiny old man approaching them. The sight awoke all manner of recollections; the numb feeling that had taken possession of them fell away as if by magic, and it was with glad voices that they greeted the new - corner. 'Where are we, my friend?' asked they; and the old man told them that this was the mountain where the sultan's daughter sat, covered by seven veils, and the shining of the stones was only the reflection of her own brilliance. 'Have patience, my son, yet awhile. Another six months must go by before you arrive at the palace where she dwells with the rest of the women. And, even so, think well, when you can, as should you fail to make her speak, you will have to pay forfeit with your life, as others have done. So beware!' After three months they found themselves on the top of another mountain, and the prince saw with surprise that its sides were coloured a beautiful red. Perched on some cliffs, not far off, was a small village, and the prince proposed to his friend that they should go and rest there. The villagers, on their part, welcomed them gladly, and gave them food to eat and beds to sleep on, and thankful indeed were the two travellers to repose their weary limbs. 'For three and a half more months you must still pursue your way,' answered he, 'and by that time you will find yourselves at the gate of the princess's palace. As for the colour of the mountain, that comes from the soft hue of her cheeks and mouth, which shines through the seven veils which cover her. But none have ever beheld her face, for she sits there, uttering no word, though one hears whispers of many having lost their lives for her sake.' 'There it is, at last,' cried the prince; and fresh blood seemed to spring in his veins. But as he and his companion began to climb towards the top they paused in horror, for the ground was white with dead men's skulls. It was the prince who first recovered his voice, and he said to his friend, as carelessly as he could: 'Oh! turn back now, my prince, while there is yet time,' entreated his companion. 'Your father gave you into my charge; but when we set out I did not know that certain death lay before us.' 'Take heart, O Lala, take heart!' answered the prince. 'A man can but die once. And, besides, the princess will have to speak some day, you know.' So they went on again, past skulls and dead men's bones in all degrees of whiteness. And by - and - by they reached another village, where they determined to rest for a little while, so that their wits might be fresh and bright for the task that lay before them. But this time, though the people were kind and friendly, their faces were gloomy, and every now and then woeful cries would rend the air. 'Oh! my brother, have I lost you?' 'Oh! my son, shall I see you no more?' And then, as the prince and his companion asked the meaning of these laments - which, indeed, was plain enough - the answer was given: 'Ah, you also have come hither to die! This town belongs to the father of the princess, and when any rash man seeks to move the princess to speech he must first obtain leave of the sultan. If that is granted him he is then led into the presence of the princess. What happens afterwards, perhaps the sight of these bones may help you to guess.' 'Oh, why cumber yourself with such a useless thing,' cried the Lala in disgust; 'have you not enough to occupy your hands and mind, without taking an extra burden?' But the prince, who liked having his own way, paid no heed to him, and paying the high price asked by the man, he carried the bird back to the inn, and hung him up in his chamber. That evening, as he was sitting alone, trying to think of something that would make the princess talk, and failing altogether, the nightingale pecked open his cage door, which was lightly fastened by a stick, and, perching on his shoulder, murmured softly in his ear: 'What makes you so sad, my prince?' The young man started. In his native country birds did not talk, and, like many people, he was always rather afraid of what he did not understand. But in a moment he felt ashamed of his folly, and explained that he had travelled for more than a year, and over thousands of miles, to win the hand of the sultan's daughter. And now that he had reached his goal he could think |
9 | 4 | of no plan to force her to speak. 'Oh! do not trouble your head about that,' replied the bird, 'it is quite easy! Go this evening to the women's apartments, and take me with you, and when you enter the princess's private chamber hide me under the pedestal which supports the great golden candlestick. The princess herself will be wrapped so thickly in her seven veils that she can see nothing, neither can her face be seen by anyone. Then inquire after her health, but she will remain quite silent; and next say that you are sorry to have disturbed her, and that you will have a little talk with the pedestal of the candlestick. When you speak I will answer.' Catching up, unseen, his mantle and the cage as they passed into the dark corridor - for by this time night was coming on - the youth found himself standing in a room bare except for a pile of silken cushions, and one tall golden candlestick. His heart beat high as he looked at the cushions, and knew that, shrouded within the shining veils that covered them, lay the much longed - for princess. Then, fearful that after all other eyes might be watching him, he hastily placed the nightingale under the open pedestal on which the candlestick was resting, and turning again he steadied his voice, and besought the princess to tell him of her well - being. 'Once upon a time,' began the nightingale, 'there lived a pasha whose daughter was the most beautiful maiden in the whole kingdom. Suitors she had in plenty, but she was not easy to please, and at length there were only three whom she felt she could even think of marrying. Not knowing which of the three she liked best, she took counsel with her father, who summoned the young men into his presence, and then told them that they must each of them learn some trade, and whichever of them proved the cleverest at the end of six months should become the husband of the princess.' "It will be best that we should each seek our fortunes alone; so let us put our rings under this stone, and go our separate ways. And the first one who returns hither will take his ring, and the others will take theirs. Thus we shall know whether we have all fulfilled the commands of the pasha, or if some accident has befallen any of us." '"No, no, my dear comrades," cried the third, "your trades are all very well; but when the pasha hears that I can bring back the dead to life he will know which of us three is to be his son - in - law. But come, there only remain a few hours of the six months he granted us. It is time that we hastened back to the palace."' "Stop a moment," said the second, "it would be well to know what is going on in the palace." And plucking some small leaves from a tree near by, he muttered some words and made some signs, and laid them on his eyes. In an instant he turned pale, and uttered a cry. '"Give it to me," said the first. And he wished himself by the bedside of the princess, which was surrounded by the sultan and his weeping courtiers. Clearly there was not a second to lose, for the princess had grown unconscious, and her face cold. Plunging his finger into the ointment he touched her eyes, mouth and ears with the paste, and with beating heart awaited the result.' It was swifter than he supposed. As he looked the colour came back into her cheeks, and she smiled up at her father. The sultan, almost speechless with joy at this sudden change, embraced his daughter tenderly, and then turned to the young man to whom he owed her life: 'But if it had not been for the man who could see what was happening at a distance they would never have known that the princess was ill,' said the nightingale. 'I would give it to him.' And the strife between them waxed hot, till, suddenly, the listening princess started up from her cushions and cried: At the first sound of the princess's voice, a slave, who was standing at the door, ran at full speed to tell the sultan of the miracle which bad taken place, and the delighted father hastened to the spot. But by this time the princess perceived that she had fallen into a trap which had been cunningly laid for her, and would not utter another word. All she could be prevailed on to do was to make signs to her father that the man who wished to be her husband must induce her to speak three times. And she smiled to herself beneath her seven veils as she thought of the impossibility of that! When the sultan told the prince that though he had succeeded once, he would have twice to pass through the same test, the young man's face clouded over. It did not seem to him fair play, but he dared not object, so he only bowed low, and contrived to step back close to the spot where the nightingale was hidden. As it was now quite dark he |
9 | 5 | tucked unseen the little cage under his cloak, and left the palace. 'Why are you so gloomy?' asked the nightingale, as soon as they were safely outside. 'Everything has gone exactly right! Of course the princess was very angry with herself for having spoken. And did you see that, at her first words, the veils that covered her began to rend? Take me back to - morrow evening, and place me on the pillar by the lattice. Fear nothing, you have only to trust to me!' The next evening, towards sunset, the prince left the cage behind him, and with the bird in the folds of his garment slipped into the palace and made his way straight to the princess's apartments. He was at once admitted by the slaves who guarded the door, and took care to pass near the window so that the nightingale hopped unseen to the top of a pillar. Then he turned and bowed low to the princess, and asked her several questions; but, as before, she answered nothing, and, indeed, gave no sign that she heard. After a few minutes the young man bowed again, and crossing over to the window, he said: 'I thank you,' replied a voice from the pillar, 'I am feeling very well. And it is lucky for me that the princess is silent, or else you would not have wanted to speak to me. To reward you, I will relate to you an interesting tale that I lately overheard, and about which I should like to have your opinion.' 'Once upon a time,' said the nightingale, 'there lived a woman who was so beautiful that every man who saw her fell in love with her. But she was very hard to please, and refused to wed any of them, though she managed to keep friends with all. Years passed away in this manner, almost without her noticing them, and one by one the young men grew tired of waiting, and sought wives who may have been less handsome, but were also less proud, and at length only three of her former wooers remained - Baldschi, Jagdschi, and Firedschi. Still she held herself apart, thought herself better and lovelier than other women, when, on a certain evening, her eyes were opened at last to the truth. She was sitting before her mirror, combing her curls, when amongst her raven locks she found a long white hair!' At this dreadful sight her heart gave a jump, and then stood still. I am growing old, "she said to herself," and if I do not choose a husband soon, I shall never get one! I know that either of those men would gladly marry me to - morrow, but I cannot decide between them. I must invent some way to find out which of them is the best, and lose no time about it. "'" That will have to do, "she muttered as she pulled out the white hair which had cost her so much trouble." It is not very good, but I can think of nothing better; and - well, they are none of them clever, and I dare say they will easily fall into the trap. "Then she called her slave and bade her let Jagdschi know that she would be ready to receive him in an hour's time. After that she went into the garden and dug a grave under a tree, by which she laid a white shroud.'" A terrible thing has happened, "said she, her voice choked with sobs." My father died two nights ago, and I buried him in my garden. But now I find that he was a wizard, and was not dead at all, for his grave is empty and he is wandering about somewhere in the world. "'Now Jagdschi was proud of the trust reposed in him, and wrapping himself in the shroud, he stretched himself at full length in the grave. After some time Baldschi arrived in his turn, and found the lady groaning and lamenting. She told him that her father had been a wizard, and that in case, as was very likely, he should wish to leave his grave and come to work her evil, Baldschi was to take a stone and be ready to crush in his head, if he showed signs of moving.' Meanwhile the hour arrived in which Firedsehi was accustomed to pay his respects, and, as in the case of the other two, he discovered the lady overcome with grief. To him she said that a wizard who was an enemy of her father's had thrown the dead man out of his grave, and had taken his place." But, "she added," if you can bring the wizard into my presence, all his power will go from him; if not, then I am lost. "'" Ah, lady, what is there that I would not do for you! "cried Firedschi; and running down to the grave, he seized the astonished Jagdschi by the waist, and flinging the body over his shoulder, he hastened with him into the house. At the first moment Baidsohi was so surprised at this turn of affairs, for which the lady had not prepared |
9 | 6 | him, that he sat still and did nothing. But by - and - by he sprang up and hurled the stone after the two flying figures, hoping that it might kill them both. Fortunately it touched neither, and soon all three were in the presence of the lady. Then Jagdschi, thinking that he had delivered her from the power of the wizard, slid off the back of Firedschi, and threw the shroud from him. '' How can you talk such nonsense? 'cried the princess - and as she spoke a sound of tearing was heard.' Why, you have never even thought of Jagdschi, who lay for three hours in the grave, with a stone held over his head! Of course it was he whom the lady chose for her husband! 'The following evening the prince entered the palace, and walked boldly up to the princess's apartments. As he entered the nightingale flew from under his arm and perched himself on top of the door, where he was entirely concealed by the folds of the dark curtain. The young man talked as usual to the princess without obtaining a single word in reply, and at length he left her lying under the heap of shining veils - now rent in many places - and crossed the room towards the door, from which came a voice that gladly answered him.' Once upon a time, a carpenter, a tailor, and a student set out together to see the world. After wandering about for some months they grew tired of travelling, and resolved to stay and rest in a small town that took their fancy. So they hired a little house, and looked about for work to do, returning at sunset to smoke their pipes and talk over the events of the day. 'One night in the middle of summer it was hotter than usual, and the carpenter found himself unable to sleep. Instead of tossing about on his cushions, making himself more uncomfortable than he was already, the man wisely got up and drank some coffee and lit his long pipe. Suddenly his eye fell on some pieces of wood in a corner and, being very clever with his fingers, he had soon set up a perfect statue of a girl about fourteen years old. This so pleased and quieted him that he grew quite drowsy, and going back to bed fell fast asleep.' But the carpenter was not the only person who lay awake that night. Thunder was in the air, and the tailor became so restless that he thought he would go downstairs and cool his feet in the little fountain outside the garden door. To reach the door he had to pass through the room where the carpenter had sat and smoked, and against the wall he beheld standing a beautiful girl. He stood speechless for an instant before he ventured to touch her hand, when, to his amazement, he found that she was fashioned out of wood. '"Ah! I can make you more beautiful still," said he. And fetching from a shelf a roll of yellow silk which he had bought that day from a merchant, he cut and draped and stitched, till at length a lovely robe clothed the slender figure. When this was finished, the restlessness had departed from him, and he went back to bed.' "Oh, thou art fairer than the evening air, clad in the beauty of ten thousand stars," he murmured to himself. "Surely a form so rare was never meant to live without a soul." And forthwith he prayed with all his might that life should be breathed into it. 'Idiots that you are! how could she belong to any one but the student? If it had not been for him, all that the others did would have gone for nothing! Of course it was he who married the maiden!' And as she spoke the seven veils fell from her, and she stood up, the fairest princess that the world has ever seen. The prince had mercy. He ordered the wicked king to be stripped of his fine clothes, and to be driven into the forest, where the wild beasts tore him to pieces. The queen he sent to her own country. Then he set off for the cave where the princess was sitting chained as before, and with the help of the magic sword he rescued her again without any difficulty. They soon reached the port and set sail for Arabia, where they were married; and till they died, a long while after, they reigned happily over both countries. |
10 | 0 | I don't know why I had to take the damn music box. It was pretty, sure, beautifully made. It wasn't like I could have wound it up to hear the sound it made, because I was in the middle of robbing a house, so it definitely wasn't the tune it played. It looked old, possibly valuable though how would I know? But something … something possessed me to take it when I found it in the child's room. I had a job, cleaning houses, and I was studying, but most of the money went for rent, utilities and university (books, fees, etc). At the end of the month I was left with a dollar or two if I was lucky. So I lived from paycheck to paycheck, and though it wasn't the best way to live, I was getting by. But I was tired. I was tired of always calculating in my head. I was tired of browsing several shops for discounted groceries and food that tasted like cardboard, but I bought it because it was cheap and it didn't kill me, so how bad could it be? I was tired of skipping meals at times, because I had bought a monthly ticket for public transportation, since it was so cold that my hair froze when I was walking to uni. I was tired of having to do laundry in the middle of the night, because that's when electricity and water were the cheapest. I was tired of turning my heater off and sleeping with five layers of clothing, because I had to pay the next semester's fees. You get the gist, I was simply exhausted of always having to choose between things most people took for granted. So, when I was cleaning the Fischer's house and happened to find an envelope filled with several 100 $bills taped to the backside of a family picture hanging on the wall, I knew that I would take it. Do I feel ashamed? I do now, but back then all I could think about was how I could finally turn on the heater again, so I wouldn't have to freeze in my own home. Had you asked me before if I would ever steal, I would have been appalled. But we all think we are better than we really are. I know that now. I didn't take it that day of course. That would have been stupid. The company I cleaned for rotated the cleaners: you cleaned a different house every time. They kept a record of who was cleaning which house though, there was a virtual schedule sent to everyone and I knew that the HR guy kept an excel list, as I had seen it. So had I taken the money then, there would have been no other suspect than me. No, I knew I had to be patient and I would find an opportunity. I did fear that someone else would find the money before I did, though I didn't think it was too likely, as most of the cleaners only dusted the pictures, but never took them off the wall. Neither did I, to be honest. I had just discovered it by accident. I had finished with the living room and was going to move to the bedrooms upstairs, when I noticed that the picture had fallen down. The glass didn't break and I hadn't heard it fall, though the second part was not surprising since I was listening to music on my mp3 player (yes I still had one of those). Empty houses could be creepy, so I preferred to have music blast into my ears. Also cleaning was easier that way. Anyway, the picture was on the floor, face up which I now realize was also weird, though it didn't strike me as odd back then. I picked it up and felt something in the back. Curiosity got the best of me and I checked what it was, and found the cash. I put the picture back where it belonged and continued cleaning. When you clean someone's place you learn a lot about the person. You learn more than what they tell even their closest friends, trust me. I'd never let anyone else clean my apartment. The Fischer's were no exception. I knew that the husband and wife slept in separate beds, because I had to make them. I knew they had two daughters, one liked chaos and the other was very tidy. I never had to do much in her room. And I knew from their mail that they would go on vacation soon, for a week. The tickets to some kind of big fair had arrived in the mail. I was not on to clean their house that week, which I took as a sign of the universe that I was supposed to be doing this. It was not that hard in the end. We had several copies of the keys, in case they got locked in or lost (first one happened a lot actually, people leaving the key inside). It was easy to take them. I know that they got checked regularly, but always at the end of the week, at which point they would be back where they belonged. And two days after the start of the exhibition, on a Wednesday night, I put my plan into action |
10 | 1 | . The house felt even emptier at night. I listened intently when I entered through the backdoor, but there was nobody there. I tiptoed to the family picture, the four of them beaming at the photographer, reached behind it without taking it off and grabbed the envelope. My heart was beating like crazy. I was sure someone was going to grab my hand any minute and ask me what I was doing. I checked the cash in the envelope; ten $100 bills. I was holding a thousand dollars in my hand. It was almost over. I started to walk towards the door, when I thought I heard something from the tidy girl's room. I stopped dead in my tracks, holding my breath. There it was again, rustling. I don't know how long I stood there frozen, but eventually I forced myself to move. I crept towards the room, her door was open and I could see the moonlight coming through the door. Who was in there? I was right next to the door, and I heard the rustling clearer than before. I knew I had to look, but I didn't want to. I was convinced something was waiting in there for me, not someone because a person would have shown themselves by now. Finally I decided to just get it over with and stepped forward to look into the room. Nothing. There was nobody there. The window was slightly open, it was one of those that could be tilted from the top. The family had simply forgotten to close the window and the breeze coming through was probably causing that rustling sound. I almost laughed out loud at my own stupidity. I turned to leave and that's when I saw a little flash of gold. I turned back and saw the music box. It was one of those old - fashioned ones that are egg - shaped. It was sitting on the little desk and I didn't remember ever seeing it in the girl's room before. I walked into the room, and without even really knowing what I was doing I grabbed the music box and stuffed it into my pocket. I took a long hot shower at home, not caring about how much it would cost. The music box was forgotten. I turned on the heater and made myself a nice cup of tea, then looked again at the envelope. I don't remember much else from that evening, only that I slept well for the first time in a long time. They never caught me. I spent the next few days in anxious anticipation. Every time I went to work I expected the police to wait for me, but they never did. I was even assigned to clean the Fischer house the week after and I was so worried, but nothing happened. The house was empty as usual. The evening after cleaning the Fischer house was when I remembered the music box. I didn't recall taking it out of my pocket, but I did, as it was sitting on my nightstand. I still didn't know why I stole it, though I did admit that it looked beautiful. It was about as big as the circle I could make with my hands. It was made from jade, or another green gemstone like that. There was a golden circle on top and another one around where the opening was. It had four legs, and they were golden too. I wasn't sure but it looked like real gold. There was no key to wind it up, so I assumed that it was one of those that would play music when you opened it. I wondered what sound it would make. I opened the music box delicately, anticipating the music. There was none. The little dancer was turning, so at least part of the mechanism worked, but there was no sound. I was strangely disappointed, though it didn't last long. The insides of the music box were painted over, so it looked like the ballerina was dancing on a theater stage. The insides of the top half were the stage and the curtains, and the lower half looked like there was an audience in front of the dancer. At first, I thought that the years had chipped away the face or washed away the paint that used to be the face. But when I looked closer I could see that where the face should have been, the smooth stone was caving inwards. It looked like it had been purposefully designed to not have a face. I shivered despite the heater running. Who would make a music box with a dancer that didn't have a face? And why would a little girl want to keep it? I worked during the day and had classes until ten. So by the time I came home I was ready to go to bed. The heater was running, making my tiny studio flat warm and cozy. I decided to make a cup of tea before bed. After I put on the kettle I sat down on my reading chair - I didn't have a sofa, so apart from my bed this was the only seating - and grabbed the novel I had been reading since last year. Just after I read the first sentence I heard a high sound and I thought it was the teakettle, but I was wrong. I frowned, and then I heard |
10 | 2 | it again. There was a succession of high notes, it sounded really strange and it took me a couple of seconds to recognize that it was coming from the music box. The hair stood up on my arms and neck. I was sure I had closed it the night before and yet here it was open and playing a strange melody. The high notes were shrill, but I could hear some really low notes in the background. It was slow too; the sound was dragging as if something was wrong with the mechanism so it was slowing it down. But the dancer was moving at normal speed, the same as yesterday. I froze and I watched her turn around and around, every time her no - face disappeared in a turn I was sure that when she turned back to the front she would have pitch - black eyes and a huge mouth full of teeth. But there was no face at all. The whistle of the teakettle brought me back to reality and I could move again. The music, if you can call it that, had stopped and the dancer was facing me, not moving anymore. And though it didn't have eyes, I could tell it was staring at me. Before I got the teakettle, I closed the music box and put it in the drawer of my nightstand. I was shaking even though the flat was warm, and I was sure I would not be able to sleep. But after drinking some tea, I felt much better. "I probably just left it open and forgot. Maybe the heat got it working again." I theorized and even managed to laugh at my own stupid fear. It was just a toy after all. A toy couldn't be dangerous. Though I kept waking up at night expecting something to happen, nothing did. The music box was still in the drawer the next morning and I was even more convinced that nothing supernatural was going on. Like any protagonist in a horror movie I chose to go with the rational explanation. I even went as far as to think that it was maybe my own guilt, because I stole something I really didn't need. I didn't have work that day only classes in the evening, so I decided to go to the library and work on a paper that was due. Instead of writing the paper I spent the whole morning researching haunted music boxes, but I found nothing relevant for me. Sure, there were quite some accounts of music boxes playing on their own, but there was no other music box that had a dancer with no face. I also looked for reasons why a music box could start playing on their own suddenly and there were some satisfying explanations. By the time my classes had started I was convinced that I had just overreacted. I went for a drink after classes to the surprise of my friends. I told them that I had won some money in a lottery game, not much just a little, but enough to afford some drinks (the lottery was my cover story in case people would ask me how I got the money). Thinking about it now, I was probably afraid to go home. The rational part in me might have been louder, but the other part, the one that believed that something strange was going on was still pulling the strings and I did not want to be alone with the music box for too long. Eventually I had to go home. Fortunately I was tipsy and I fell into bed without even taking off my clothes, but not before I had turned on the heater, or so I thought. I was about to get up and turn on the heater, when I saw it; the music box. It was sitting on the table next to the reading chair. It was dark in my apartment, but since I didn't have blinds only curtains on my window, it was not too dark to see that the music box was open - but the dancer was missing. A cold hand grabbed my heart, so that now I was freezing on the inside as well. Where was the dancer? Did I drunkenly do this? Did I break it and forget about it? As if it had waited for me to notice that a crucial thing was missing, the music box started to play the weird high notes again, followed by the lower ones, slow and dragging every note. I started shaking. Where was the dancer? What had happened to it? It was moving though, and it was definitely moving closer. I could see flashes of the green dress and golden flecks, though both colors looked greyish, dirtier. The music was playing still, the melody repeating itself, and it was the only sound in the flat. For the thing approaching was silent. I tried to run for it, but I couldn't move, I was glued to the bed. Tears were turning to little icy pearls on my cheeks. For every couple of notes played the thing would come closer, it was twirling and what should have looked ridiculous looked terrifying. I still could not see the face and I didn't know what was worse, to see whatever its real face was or to see that it really had none. I was shaking all over, even on the inside. I opened my mouth to |
10 | 3 | scream, but there was no sound, as if the melody from the music box was sucking all other sound in to produce its own. My mobile rang and I blinked and suddenly the thing was gone. The flat was empty and warm. The only proof that I wasn't mad was that the music box was still sitting on the living room table. It was closed now and not in a million years would I have tried to open it to see if the dancer was still there. I checked my mobile and it was one of my friends calling. They had stayed out longer than I had. As I walked over to the now silent music box, I picked up the phone. All I could hear was thumping, and some distorted electronic music. I laughed tears streaming down my face. Normally I would have been so mad at her for waking me up, but I couldn't have been more grateful tonight. I grabbed a cloth and put it around the music box, as I didn't want to touch it, and I left it on the other side of my apartment door. I did want to throw it out of the window, but I was scared that it would break and that I would set whatever lived in there free by breaking it. And since I didn't want it in my flat, I felt safer with it outside my door, in the hallway. Maybe someone would steal it, I hoped. Lisa was saying something though I couldn't hear. I asked her to come over, and even though she was drunk she heard the fear in my voice, and fifteen minutes after she was standing in my flat. I didn't tell her then what happened. I told her I was going to tell her in the morning, and that she would only forget it if I told her now. She agreed. The real reason I didn't want to tell her is that I was scared I was going to make it more real, that I was going to invite that thing back. Could it have been a bad dream? Had I just been drunker than I thought I was? I didn't think so. I wasn't prone to hallucinating, even when drunk. I thought the best would be to return the music box to its owner, before it drove me insane. So when I left for work, I put it in my bag (wrapped in the cloth and a bag that I sealed with duct tape - better safe than sorry). I wasn't due to clean the Fischer house today, but I was determined to swap with someone who was due to clean it this week. They wanted someone to come on Wednesday, so I only had to wait one more day anyway. After cleaning I stopped by the office, the music box heavy in my bag. I asked my boss, if I could swap my Thursday for Wednesday (because you couldn't request to clean a specific house) as I had a paper due on Friday and she was sympathetic. When she opened the excel file however, her face darkened. "You see, the only house we have on for Wednesday's usually is the Fischer's house." She stopped and looked at me expectantly. I felt my face flush. Did they find out about the money? Then why wasn't she firing me? When she didn't get the reaction she wanted, she sighed heavily. I was getting ready to be fired, feverishly thinking of excuses. "You didn't know …" She gestured for me to sit down, and I did, as I wasn't sure I could keep standing. "Three years ago, their youngest daughter vanished; one minute she was playing in her room the other she was gone. The window was open, but apparently that wasn't unusual. They believe someone took her. It was all over the papers, honey, how did you miss it?" I was shaking my head slowly, though I did vaguely recall a missing children's case a few years ago. TV stations picking it up, the parents being suspected, it was slowly coming back to me. "That's why her room is always tidy …" I whispered finally understanding. They kept her room for when she would return. Nobody lived in there, so why would there be anything much to clean? My boss bent over her desk to tap my hand. "I am sorry, dear, I thought you knew." "No, there was never as much as a trace. The parents were suspects in the beginning, and I am sure some still believe they killed the girl, but they were cleared. The scariest thing was that she seemed to have dissolved into thin air. The mother claimed that she had seen the girl play in her room as she was carrying the dry laundry to their bedroom. And when she got back a few minutes after the girl was gone. That was also one of the reasons why people suspected the parents, there was something off about their story how she disappeared. Poor family, it must be so hard to lose your child and be treated like you are responsible." I went to the bathroom because I needed a few minutes to collect myself and to decide what I was going to |
10 | 4 | do. The little girl had disappeared from her room. I had found a mysterious music box that was clearly haunted in her room. Whatever was in that box had taken her, I was sure of it. Maybe if I gave it back it would leave me alone? I decided that I would go to the Fischer's house and return the music box. I would tell the family that I had taken it while cleaning. If they complained and I got fired, I would accept it, because I did deserve to get fired. I wasn't going to say anything about the money though, because I would have to return it otherwise. Leaving the office I went to the Fischer's house immediately. There was no point in losing time. I knocked on the front door, and waited, and waited. I rang the bell a couple of times, and finally the mother opened the door. She only vaguely resembled the woman on the family picture where the envelope full of cash had been hidden behind. It looked like with her daughter something had also taken all color from her; like when you try to make your picture artistic and you remove most of the saturation from it - that's what she looked like. She stepped aside and let me enter. I closed the door behind me. Even though she was at home the house still seemed terribly empty. Or maybe I was just projecting now that I knew what had happened here. I didn't take off my coat and she didn't offer me to sit down. She just stood there in the hallway, hugging herself. I opened my bag and searched for the music box. At first I couldn't find it and I started to panic, but it had just slipped into one of the side pockets. So I took it out, removed the bag and the cloth and showed it to her. Mrs Fischer's eyes grew wide. "Where did you get this?" She asked and looked at me. "I am so sorry, Mrs. Fischer, I took it from your daughter's room. I don't even know why, I just did. You can tell the company if you want. I am so sorry, I just want to give it back." "Maybe you should sit down." She said and disappeared into the kitchen. I put the music box on the living room table and sat down, still in my coat. I heard her setting up tea, but I was contemplating just leaving anyway, as she emerged again with a tray and two cups. She set it on the table next to the music box and sat down on one of the chairs opposite me. "It was Marion's, my daughter's." She said but she wasn't looking at me or the music box. "She just showed up with it one day and wouldn't tell me where she got it from. She said she found it, which I thought meant she had stolen it. None of the neighbors was missing it though, nor was anyone at school, so I let her have it. No harm in that." She said and a sad smile crossed her face. "She loved it, really loved it, even though it didn't work anymore. You know it doesn't play music." She glanced at it the first time since sitting down. "Then the nightmares started. She was scared of the dancer because it had no face. I took it from her, you know. I hid it at first, but she would always find it. Then I threw it away, or I tried, but she would go through the bags and get it again. Of course she told me that it wasn't her, that it just appeared in her room. A child's imagination can be very persuasive." She said and looked directly into my eyes. "You know what is strange" she asked, but she didn't wait for me to answer. "The day Marion disappeared; I passed her room and saw her playing with her dolls. I also saw that the music box was open. But the dancer was not there. I noticed this and thought that maybe Marion had broken it because she was scared." "On my way back from the bedroom I heard strange music coming from her room. I looked and Marion was gone. But the music box was open and the tiny dancer with no face was making her turns to this eerie music, too slow as if it was somehow still not working properly." She stopped talking and started staring at the music box. The hairs on my arms stood up. I was sure it would spring open and I was close to throwing my hands over it, so it couldn't. Now she looked at me, smiling again. This time the smile wasn't sad. Her eyes had a feverish look and the smile stretched her lips, making her mouth seem too wide. She reached over, and the tea kettle started to whistle. The smile was gone now, replaced by the same expressionless mask she had worn before. "Excuse me." She said and walked over to the kitchen. I did not wait for her to return, I bolted out of there. I |
10 | 5 | ran and ran until my lungs were burning and the cold air was hurting my throat. I was sweating but I was shivering too. I found a bus stop and took a bus that would get me home. Even though there were plenty of people on the bus and it was warm I was still shivering. I was going to get sick I thought. I arrived home, still shaken but relieved that I had returned the music box, and that I wasn't going to suffer the same fate as the little girl. I turned on the heater, just threw my clothes on the floor and went for a nice warm shower. I stayed in there long enough for my flat to warm up. I felt much better, almost a bit upbeat. I decided to skip classes today and just stay in and read. I deserved a quiet evening. I left the bathroom, toweling my hair, and that's when I saw it. The music box was sitting on the table in front of my reading chair. I had definitely not brought it back. I remember Mrs. Fischer's words: "Of course she told me that it wasn't her, that it just appeared in her room." There was no point in running. I dropped the towel and turned around, as if it would help if I didn't look. I could hear it opening though and I knew if I turned back I would not see the tiny dancer with no face. The room turned cold and darker. I closed my eyes as the music started to play. Read This |
11 | 0 | Having assumed her rightful place as the Trylle Queen, Wendy Everly must save everyone she loves - and the kingdom she's fought so hard for - from her cruel Vittra rivals. Oren's immortality renders him nearly impossible to defeat, and if he can't have Wendy's power for his own, he's determined to destroy her and her friends … including Finn and Loki. As Wendy faces her toughest enemy yet, she's also forced to make the ultimate choice - who to love for the rest of her life. Everything has been leading up to this moment, and now it's all coming to a finish. Don't miss the final chapter in the Trylle trilogy, an epic finale that will leave you breathless! I had my back to the room as I stared out the window. It was a trick I'd learned from my mother to make me seem more in control. Elora had given me lots of tips the past few months, but the ones about commanding a meeting were the most useful. "I'm not." I turned back, giving him a cool gaze, and he lowered his eyes and balled up his handkerchief in his hand. "But we can't ignore the problems any longer." I surveyed the meeting room, doing my best to seem as cold and imposing as Elora always had. I didn't plan to be a cruel ruler, but they wouldn't listen to weakness. If I wanted to make a change here, I had to be firm. My assistant Joss sat at the back of the room, furiously scribbling down notes as we talked. She was a small human girl who grew up in Förening as a mänsklig and worked as Elora's secretary. Since I'd been running the palace, I'd inherited Joss as my own assistant. Duncan, my bodyguard, was stationed by the door, where he stood during all the meetings. He followed me everywhere, like a shadow, and though he was clumsy and small, he was smarter than people gave him credit for. I'd grown to respect and appreciate his presence the last few months, even if he couldn't completely take the place of my last guard, Finn Holmes. Aurora Kroner sat at the head of the table, and next to her was Tove, my fiancé. He was usually the only one on my side, and I was grateful to have him here. I didn't know how I would manage ruling if I felt completely alone. A few other high - ranking officials sat around the table, all of their expressions solemn. The situation for the Trylle was growing increasingly dire, and I was proposing change. They didn't want me to change anything - they wanted me to support the system they'd had for centuries, but that system wasn't working anymore. Our society was crumbling, and they refused to see the roles they played in its breakdown. "I'm not asking to redistribute the wealth or calling to abolish the monarchy," I said. "I am simply saying that the trackers are out there risking their lives to save us, to protect our changelings, and they deserve a real house to come back to. We should be setting aside money now so that when this is over, we can begin building them real homes." "We can't pay the Vittra off," Tove interjected. "This isn't about money. This is about power. We all know what they want, and a few thousand - or even a few million - dollars won't matter to them. The Vittra King will refuse it." "I will do everything in my power to keep Förening safe, but you are all correct," I said. "We have yet to find a reasonable solution for the Vittra. That means this might very well turn into a bloody fight, and if it does, we need to support our troops. They deserve the best care, including adequate housing and access to our healers if they're injured in wartime." "Why is that ridiculous?" I asked, working to keep the ice from my voice. "They are expected to die for us, but we aren't willing to heal their wounds? We cannot ask more of them than we are willing to give ourselves." "They are lower than us," Laris said, as if I didn't understand the concept. "We are in charge for a reason. Why on earth should we treat them as equals when they are not?" "Because it's basic decency," I argued. "We may not be human, but that doesn't mean we have to be devoid of humanity. This is why our people are leaving our cities and preferring to live among the humans, letting their powers die. We must offer them some bit of happiness, otherwise why would they stay?" Laris muttered something under her breath, keeping her steely eyes locked on the oak table. Her black hair was slicked back, pulled in a bun so tight her face looked strained. This was probably done on purpose to draw attention to her strength. Duncan opened the door, and Willa poked her head in, smiling uncertainly. Since she was a Marksinna, Garrett's daughter, and my best friend, she had every |
11 | 1 | right to be here. I'd extended an invitation for her to attend these meetings, but she always declined, saying she was afraid she would do more harm than good. She had a hard time being polite when she disagreed with people. "Sorry," Willa said, and Duncan stepped aside so she could come in. "I didn't mean to interrupt. It's just that it's after five, and I was supposed to get the Princess at three for her birthday celebration." "Ah, yes." The Chancellor smiled at me with a disturbing hunger in his eyes. "I'd forgotten that you'll be eighteen tomorrow." He licked his lips, and Tove stood up, purposely blocking the Chancellor's view of me. "You're going back to work next week?" Laris looked appalled. "So soon after your wedding? Aren't you and the Princess taking a honeymoon?" While that was true enough, that wasn't the only reason I'd skipped out on a honeymoon. As much as I'd grown to like Tove, I couldn't imagine what the two of us would do on one. I hadn't even let myself think about how we would spend our wedding night. "We need to go over the changeling contracts," Markis Bain said, standing up in a hurry. "Since the trackers are bringing the changelings back early, and some families decline to do changelings anymore, the placements have all been moved around. I need you to sign off on them." "Enough talk of business." Willa looped her arm through mine, preparing to lead me out of the room. "The Princess will be back to work on Monday, and she can sign anything you want then." "Princess?" Joss said, scampering behind me with papers spilling out of her binder. "Princess, do you want me to arrange a meeting on Monday with Markis Bain for the contracts?" "You have a meeting at ten a. m. with the Markis of Oslinna." Joss flipped through the appointment section of the binder, and a paper flew out. Duncan snatched it before it fell to the floor and handed it to her. "Thank you. Sorry. So, Princess, do you want to meet Markis Bain before or after that meeting?" "She'll be going back to work just after getting married," Willa said. "Of course she won't be there first thing in the morning. Make it for the afternoon." I glanced over at Tove walking next to me, but his expression was blank. Since proposing to me, he'd actually spoken very little of getting married. His mother and Willa had done most of the planning, so I hadn't even talked to him about what he thought of colors or flower arrangements. Everything had been decided for us, so we had little to discuss. "Now she's off until Monday," Willa told Joss over her shoulder. "That means five whole days where nobody calls her, talks to her, or meets with her. Remember that, Joss. If anybody asks for the Princess, she cannot be reached." "Well, wait until you see what we have planned for you tonight." Duncan grinned. "You'll be having too much fun to worry about Laris or anybody else." Fortunately, since I was getting married in a few days, I'd gotten out of the usual ball that would happen for a Princess's birthday. Elora and Aurora had planned that the wedding would take place immediately after I turned eighteen. My birthday was on a Wednesday, and I was getting married on Saturday, leaving no time for a massive Trylle birthday party. Willa insisted on throwing me a small party anyway, even though I didn't really want one. Considering everything that was happening in Förening, it felt like sacrilege. The Vittra had set up a peace treaty with us, agreeing not to attack us until I became Queen. What we hadn't realized at the time was the specific language they had used. They wouldn't attack us, meaning the Trylle living in Förening. Everyone else was fair game. The Vittra had started going after our changelings, the ones that were still left with their host families in human society. They'd taken a few before we caught on, but as soon as we did, we sent all our best trackers to bring home any changeling over the age of sixteen, including most of the trackers serving as palace bodyguards. For anyone younger than that, our trackers were supposed to stand guard and watch them. We knew the Vittra would avoid taking them because they couldn't do so without setting off an Amber Alert. Still, we felt that every precaution must be taken to protect the most vulnerable among us. That left us at a horrible disadvantage. To protect the changelings, our trackers had to be in the field, so they couldn't be here guarding the palace. We would be more exposed to an attack if the Vittra went back on their part of the deal, but I didn't see what choice we had. We couldn't let them kidnap and hurt our children, so I sent every tracker I could out into the field. |
11 | 2 | Finn had been gone almost continuously for months. He was the best tracker we had, and he'd been returning the changelings to all the Trylle communities. I hadn't seen him since before Christmas, and sometimes I still missed him, but the longing was fading. A figure stood before us, bracing himself with his hands on either side of the doorway. He was slumped forward, his head hanging down, and snow covered his black sweater. His clothes were ragged, worn, and shredded in most places. He smiled crookedly, but his smile didn't have its usual bravado. His caramel eyes looked tired and pained, and he had a fading bruise on his cheek. Despite all that, he was still just as gorgeous as I remembered him, and my breath caught in my throat. "I apologize for the intrusion, Princess," he said, his smile already fading. "And as much as I'd like to say that I'm here for pleasure, I..." He swallowed something back, and his hands gripped tighter on the door frame. "I..." Loki started to speak, but his knees gave out. He pitched forward, and I rushed to catch him. He fell into my arms, and I lowered him to the floor. "Wendy." He smiled up at me, but the smile was weak. "If I'd known that this is what it would take to get you to hold me, I would've collapsed a long time ago." "What is going on, Loki?" I asked gently. If he hadn't been so obviously distressed, I would've swatted him for that comment, but he grimaced in pain when I touched his face. "Amnesty," he said thickly, and his eyes closed. "I need amnesty, Princess." His head tilted to the side, and his body relaxed. He'd passed out. Tove and Duncan had carried Loki up to the servants' quarters on the second floor. Willa went back to help Matt so he wouldn't worry, and I sent Duncan to get Thomas because I had no idea what we should do with Loki. He was unconscious, so I couldn't ask him what had happened. "I don't know." I shook my head. "It depends on what he says." I glanced over at Tove. "Why? Do you think I should?" "You don't want me to get my mother?" Tove asked. His mother was a healer, meaning she could put her hands on someone and heal almost any wound that person might have. "No. She would never heal a Vittra. Besides, I don't want anyone to know that Loki is here. Not yet," I said. "I need an actual doctor. There is a mänks doctor in town, isn't there?" "Yeah." He nodded. "I'll get him." He turned to leave but paused at the door. "You'll be okay with the Vittra Markis?" Tove nodded, then left me alone with Loki. I took a deep breath and tried to figure out what to do. Loki lay on his back, his light hair cascading across his forehead. Somehow he was even more attractive asleep than he was awake. I sat down on the edge of the bed next to him and touched a hole in his shirt. The skin underneath was discolored and swollen. Tentatively, I lifted his shirt, and when Loki didn't wake, I pushed it up more. I felt strange and almost perverse undressing him, but I wanted to check and make sure there weren't any life - threatening contusions. If he was seriously injured or appeared to have any broken bones, I would summon Aurora and make her heal him, whether she wanted to or not. I wouldn't let Loki die because she was prejudiced. After I pulled his shirt over his head, I got my first good look at him, and my breath caught in my throat. Under ordinary circumstances, I was sure his physique would be stunning, but that wasn't what shocked me. His torso was covered with bruises, and his sides had long, thin scars on them. Tears stung my eyes, and I put my hand to my mouth. I'd never seen Loki shirtless before, but I knew there had never been scars on his forearms. Most of this had happened since I'd seen him last. Worse still, Loki had Vittra blood. Physically, he was incredibly strong, which was how he'd pounded at the door so hard it shook the front hall. That also meant he healed better than most. For him to look this terrible, somebody really had to have beaten the hell out of him, over and over again, so he wouldn't have time to heal. "You just couldn't wait to get me naked, could you, Princess?" Loki asked tiredly. I started to pull my hand back, but he put his own hand over it, keeping it in place. "I'm sure." He moved his thumb, almost caressing my hand, until it hit my ring. "What's that?" He tried |
11 | 3 | to sit up to see it, so I lifted my hand, showing him the emerald - encrusted oval on my finger. "Is that a wedding ring?" Of course I remembered. Loki had snuck in over the wall and asked me to run away with him. I had declined, but he'd stolen a kiss before he left, a rather nice kiss. My cheeks reddened slightly at the memory, and that made Loki smile wider. "That doesn't," Loki said, referring to the kiss. "I meant when I told you that the King hates me. He really does, Wendy." His eyes went dark for a minute. "Wendy, please." He closed his eyes. "I'm exhausted. I barely made it here. Can we have this conversation when I'm feeling a bit better? Say, in a month or two?" In the hall, I wrapped my arms around myself. I couldn't shake the heavy feeling of guilt, as if I somehow shared responsibility for what had happened to Loki. I'd only spoken to Oren once, and I had no control over what he did. So why did I feel like it was my fault that Loki had been so brutally beaten? I wasn't in the hall for long when Duncan and Thomas approached. I'd wanted to alert as few people as possible to Loki's presence, but I trusted Thomas. Not just because he was the head guard and Finn's father. He'd once had an illicit affair with Elora, so I thought he was good at keeping secrets. "I'm not sure yet," I said. "He hasn't been able to talk much. But I'm letting him stay here for now, at least until he heals and we can have a conversation." The last time Loki had been here, he'd been held captive. We didn't have a real prison, so Elora had used her telekinesis to hold him in place, but that had weakened her so much it nearly killed her. In fact, she hadn't recovered from it yet, and there would be no way she could do it again. Besides that, I didn't think Loki was really capable of causing trouble. Not in his present state, at least. And he'd come to us of his own free will. We didn't need to hold him. "Good," I said. "Make sure they know they cannot tell anybody about this. This all needs to stay quiet until I figure out what I'm going to do. Is that clear?" Tove arrived shortly after that with the mänks doctor. I waited outside the room while he examined Loki. He woke up for it, but offered very little explanation for his injuries. When the doctor was done, he concluded that Loki didn't have any serious ailments, and he gave him medication for pain. "Come on," Tove said, after the doctor had gone. "He's resting now. There's nothing more you can do. Why don't you go enjoy your party?" I hadn't felt like having a party before Loki crashed the palace, and I felt even less like having one now. But I had to at least try to have fun so I wouldn't hurt Willa's or Matt's feelings. I knew they had gone to a lot of trouble, so I would play the part of the happy birthday girl for them. "Why are you so worried about him anyway?" Duncan asked. "I know that you two are friends or something, but I don't understand. He's a Vittra, and he kidnapped you once." Duncan directed me to the upstairs living room. It had been Rhys's playroom when he was little, and they'd converted it into a place to hang out when he became a teenager. But the ceilings still had murals of clouds and childish things, and the walls were lined with short white shelves that still held a few of his old toys. "Of course I know," Matt said, his voice a little high from inhaling helium. He had a deflated balloon in his hands, and he tossed it aside to walk over to me. "I was there when you were born, remember?" He'd been smiling, but it faltered when he realized what he'd said. Rhys and I had been switched at birth. Matt had actually been there for Rhys's birth, not mine. I knew that I'd grown up some. Even physically I'd changed. I wore my hair down more now because I'd finally managed to tame my curls after a lifetime of struggling with them. Since I was running a kingdom now, I had to play the part and wear dark - colored gowns all the time. I had to look like a Princess. Matt wasn't even supposed to live in the palace, and since Rhys and Rhiannon were mänks, they would never be allowed to attend a ball. Duncan would be let in, but he'd have to work. He wouldn't be able to laugh and goof around like he did now. "Wendy, why don't you help me cut the cake?" Willa suggested while Tove attempted |
11 | 4 | to act out some kind of clue for charades. Duncan had guessed everything under the sun, but judging by Tove's comically frustrated response, he wasn't even close. I'd been sitting on the couch, laughing at everyone's failed attempts, but I got up and went over to the table where Willa stood. A cake sat on a brightly colored tablecloth, next to a small pile of gifts. Both Rhys and I had specifically asked for no gifts, but here they were. Matt might be a very good cook, but I wasn't sure. I dislike most foods, especially processed ones, but Matt had been trying hard to feed me for years, so I pretended to like a lot of things I didn't like. My annual chiffon birthday cake was one of them. "I wanted to let you know that I didn't tell Matt about Loki." Willa lowered her voice as she carefully put pieces of cake on small paper plates. "He would just worry." "You think Loki will be around for a while?" Willa asked. She'd gotten some frosting on her finger, and she licked it off, then grimaced. My dreams were filled with bad winter storms. Snow blowing so hard I couldn't see anything. Wind so cold I froze to the bone. But I had to keep going. I had to get through the storms. Duncan woke me up a little after nine the next morning. Usually I got up at six or seven to get ready for the day, depending on what time my first meetings were. Since it was my birthday, I'd slept in a bit, and it felt nice but strange. He wouldn't have woken me at all, except Elora had requested to eat breakfast with me today since it was my birthday. I didn't mind being woken up, though. Sleeping in that late made me feel surprisingly lazy. I didn't even really know what I would do with the day. It'd been so long since I'd had a full day that was free of plans. Either I was working on things for the kingdom, helping Aurora with the wedding plans, or spending time with Willa and Matt. I met Elora in her bedroom for breakfast, which was usually where I saw her. She'd been in decline for a while, but even before Christmas she'd been on bed rest. Aurora had tried healing her a few times, but she was only staving off the inevitable. On my way to Elora's chambers in the south wing, I walked past the room Loki was staying in. His bedroom door was closed, and Thomas stood guard outside. He nodded once as I walked by, so I assumed everything was still going all right. Elora's bedroom was massive. The double doors to her room were floor - to - ceiling, so they were nearly two stories high. The room itself could easily fit two of my bedrooms in it, and my room was quite large. Making the room look even larger was a full wall of windows, although she kept the shades drawn most of the time, preferring the dim light of a bedside lamp. To fill the space, she had several armoires, a writing desk, the largest bed I'd ever seen, and a sitting area complete with a couch, two chairs, and a coffee table. Today she had a small dining table with two chairs set up near the window. It was all laid out with fruit, yogurt, and oatmeal - my favorite things. The last few times I'd visited with her, Elora had been in bed, but she sat at the table today. Her long hair had once been jet - black, but it was now silver - white. Her dark eyes were clouded with cataracts, and her porcelain skin had wrinkled. She was still elegant and beautiful, and I imagined she always would be, but she'd aged so much. "Would you like some tea, Wendy?" Elora asked without looking up at me. She'd only recently begun calling me Wendy. For a long time she refused to call me anything but Princess, but our relationship had been changing. "Blackberry." She filled the small teacup in front of me, then set the teapot on the table. "I hope you're hungry this morning. I had the chef whip us up a feast." "I see." Elora took a sip of her tea and said nothing more for several minutes. She only watched me as I ate, which would've made me self - conscious before, but I was starting to realize that she just enjoyed watching me. I glanced down at my dress. It was dark blue with black lace designs over it. Willa had picked it out for me, and I did think it was really beautiful. But I still hadn't gotten used to Elora complimenting me. "No." I'd been eating vanilla yogurt, but I set the spoon down on a plate. "You only told me that it was hasty." "You were early," she said, her voice low, as if she were lost in thought. "My mother did that. She used her persuasion, and convinced my body to go into |
11 | 5 | labor. It was the only way we could protect you, but you were two weeks early. "" No. "She shook her head." We went to the city your host family lived in. Oren thought I was interested in a family that lived in Atlanta, but I'd chosen the Everlys, who lived in northern New York. "Yes, Thomas went with us," Elora said. "That's how I met him, actually, when we were on the run from my husband. Thomas was a new tracker, but he'd already proven to be very resourceful, so my mother chose him to help us." "Yes, he was." She smiled at the thought. "I gave birth to you on the floor of a hotel bathroom. Mother used her powers on me, induced labor, and made it so I wouldn't scream or feel pain. And Thomas sat at my side, holding my hand and telling me it would all be fine." "You were so small." Her smile changed, and she tilted her head. "I didn't know you would be so tiny, and you were so beautiful. You were born with a dark shock of hair, and these big dark eyes. You were beautiful and you were perfect and you were mine." "I wanted to hold you," Elora said at length. "I begged my mother to let me hold you, and she said it would only make it worse. She held you, though, wrapping you in a bedsheet and staring down at you with tears in her eyes." Then she left, "she continued." She took you to the hospital to leave you with the Everlys, and brought home another baby that wasn't mine. She wanted me to hold him, to care for Rhys. She said that it would make it easier. But I didn't want him. You were my child, and I wanted you. "Elora turned to look at me then, her eyes looking clearer than they had in a while." I did want you, Wendy. Despite everything that happened between your father and me, I wanted you. More than anything in the world. "I didn't say anything to that. I couldn't. If I did, I would cry, and I didn't want her to see that. Even as open as she was being, I didn't know how she would react to me weeping outright." But I couldn't have you. "Elora turned back to the window." Sometimes it seems to me that that's all my life has been, a series of things that I loved deeply that I could never have. "" Don't be. "She waved it off." I made my choices, and I did the best I could. "She forced a smile." And look at me. This is your birthday. I shouldn't be whining to you. "" You're not whining. "I wiped at my eyes as discreetly as I could and took another sip of my tea." And I'm glad you told me. "" Oh, right. Of course. "I shook my head to clear the confusion." I've been so busy with everything else that I'd forgotten. "" It's no matter, "she said." It shouldn't be much work to move things around, since it will only be personal items we're moving in and out. I'll have some of the trackers move my things out Friday, and I'll be staying in the room down the hall. "" Aurora is certainly prepared for it. "I sighed." But if you're asking if I'm prepared to be married, I'm not sure. I guess I'll wing it. "" You're certain? "I raised an eyebrow." Did you paint it? "Elora had the ability of precognition, but she could only see her visions of the future in static images. I ate a little more, but she only picked at the food. We talked, and it was strange to think that I'd miss her when she was gone. I hadn't actually known her for very long, and most of that time our relationship had been cold. Thomas was still outside, so I knocked once and opened the door without waiting for a response. Loki was in the middle of changing clothes as I came in. He'd already traded his worn slacks for a pair of pajama pants, and he was holding a white T - shirt, preparing to put it on." Why? "I asked, already feeling indignation at my father for doing this to him." Why in god's name would he do something so brutal to you? "" How is it not brutal? "I sat down on the bed next to him." And you're nearly a Prince! How can he treat you this way? "Sara, the Queen of the Vittra, was my stepmother, but she'd once been betrothed to Loki. She was more than ten years older than him, and it was an arranged engagement that ended when he was nine. They were never |
11 | 6 | romantic, and she had always considered Loki more of a little brother and protected him as such. "Sometimes he'd hit me." Loki kept his eyes on me, letting me trace my fingers on his scars. "Or he'd kick me. But usually he used a cat." "No, it's actually called a cat - o '- nine - tails. It's like a whip, but instead of one tail, it has nine. It inflicts more damage than a regular whip." "Loki!" I dropped my hand, totally appalled. "He would do that to you? Why didn't you leave? Did you fight back?" "I was locked up in the dungeon." He shifted and turned away from me. "Wendy, I'm glad to see you, but I'd really rather not talk about this anymore." "Yes, well, he still thought you would come around." He ran a hand through his hair and sat up straighter. "And you didn't. It was my fault for letting you go in the first place, and then for not bringing you back." He bit his lip and shook his head. "He's determined to get you, Wendy." "Wendy." Loki sighed and moved closer to me. Gently, almost cautiously, he put his arm around me. "What happened isn't your fault." "No, I can't." I shook my head. "I have so much I need to do here. I can't just leave it all behind. But you can stay here. I will grant you amnesty." He'd lowered his arm, so his hand was on my waist. Loki was incredibly near, and his muscles pressed against me. I knew that I should move away, that I had no justifiable reason to be this close to him, but I didn't move. "Of course you do." I looked away from him, but I didn't move away. "Where did you get the pajamas, by the way? You didn't bring anything with you when you came." "Because. I'll tell you, and it will ruin this whole mood," Loki said. "Can't we just sit here and look longingly into each other's eyes until we fall into each other's arms, kissing passionately?" "Of course." I stood up. "That's exactly the kind of thing my fiancé would do. He's always thinking of other people." "It's just pajamas!" Loki insisted, like that would mean something. "Sure, he's a terrifically nice guy, but that doesn't matter." "Okay." I laughed, because I didn't know how else to respond. "But I should go. If I've given you amnesty, that means I have to go about enacting it, and getting everyone to agree that it's not a suicidal decision." My relaxing birthday turned into a meeting frenzy because I'd granted Loki amnesty. Most people thought I was insane, and Loki had to be brought in for questioning. They had a big meeting in which Thomas asked him lots of questions, and Loki answered them the same way he had for me. I did have a nice, quiet dinner with Willa and Matt, and that was something. My aunt Maggie called, and I talked to her for a while. She wanted to come see me, but I'd been stalling the best I could. I hadn't explained to her what I was yet, but she knew I was safe with Matt. She'd been traveling a lot, which was good, but it didn't keep her from wondering what was going on with me. I couldn't wait until this all calmed down so I could finally have her in my life again. I missed her so much. After dinner, I went back to my room and watched bad eighties movies with Duncan. He had to stay with me sixteen hours a day, then the night watchman took over. I'd wanted to study, since Tove was teaching me Tryllic, but Duncan wouldn't let me. He insisted I needed to shut off my mind and relax. Duncan fell asleep in my room, which wasn't unusual. Nobody said anything, since he was my guard, and it was better that he was with me. He probably wouldn't be able to sleep in my room after Saturday, which made me a little sad. I slept sprawled out in my bed, and Duncan was curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over him. "I need to stay busy." I sat up and squinted in the brightness. "And I don't care what anybody says about me needing to relax and take time off. I have to keep active. So I think I'll train with Tove today." Whenever I thought about the wedding I got a sick feeling in my stomach. Sometimes, if I thought about it too much, I actually threw up. I don't think I'd ever been so afraid to do anything in my life. Tove had moved into the palace after the Vittra had kidnapped me, |
11 | 7 | to help keep things safe. He was actually much stronger than any of the guards here, and he may have even been stronger than me. His room was down the hall from mine, and the door was open when I stopped by. Duncan went in and pulled out some of Tove's clothes from the drawer. I stayed where I was, hating how awkward everything felt between us. When we were training or talking politics, everything was good with Tove and me. We were almost always on the same page, and we talked openly about anything having to do with the palace or work. Training helped him a lot too. The palace was so full of people, and Tove could sense their thoughts and emotions, creating loud static in his head. Training silenced that and focused him, making him more like a normal person. "Why don't you stay in here?" I asked. "You can finish packing up some of Tove's stuff." Duncan looked uncertain for a second, so I went on, "I'll be with Tove. We can handle ourselves." Tove and I headed out back to the secret garden behind the palace. It wasn't really secret, I guess, but it felt that way since it was hidden behind trees and a wall. Even though a strong January storm had been blowing the last few days, the garden was peaceful. The garden was magic. All the flowers still bloomed, despite the snow, and they sparkled like diamonds from the frost. The thin waterfall that flowed down the bluff should've frozen over, but it still ran, babbling. A drift of snow had blown over the path. Tove simply held out his hand, and the snow moved to the sides, parting like the Red Sea. He stopped in the orchard under the branches of a tree covered with frozen leaves and blue flowers. Using only his mind, he threw four snowballs at me. I held up my hands, pushing them back with my own telekinesis, and they shattered into puffs of snow from the force. It was my turn to sling a few back at him, but he stopped them just as easily as I had. Tove and I played around, throwing snow at each other, but it became increasingly hard as it went on. It looked like a game, and it was fun, but it was more than that. Stopping a slew of snowballs helped me learn to quickly stop multiple attacks from different directions. I tried to return fire even before I stopped the snowball, and that helped me learn how to fight back while defending myself. Those were two completely different tasks, and they were difficult to master. I'd been working on this for a while, but couldn't get it down. In my defense, neither could Tove, but he didn't really think it was possible. My mind would have to be able to hold something back and throw something at the same time, which it could do, but doing both things at the exact same time was impossible. "Yeah, I am." He furrowed his brow, staring thoughtfully at the sky. "I think I'm most scared of the kiss. It will be our first time, and in front of all those people." "No, I mean, do you think we should now?" Tove sat up, propping himself up with his arms behind him. "Maybe it will make it a bit easier on Saturday." "I feel like we're in the third grade right now." He sighed and brushed snow off his pants. "But you're going to be my wife. We'll have to kiss." I swallowed hard and leaned forward. I closed my eyes, since it felt less embarrassing if I didn't have to see him. His lips were cold, and the kiss was chaste. It only lasted a moment, and my stomach swirled with nerves, but not the pleasurable kind. "Yeah," I said. "Of course we can. If anybody can, it's us. We're like the most powerful Trylle ever. And we're neat people. We can handle spending the rest of our lives with each other." "Yeah," Tove said, sounding more encouraged by the prospect. "In fact, I'm looking forward to it. I like you. You like me. We have fun together. We agree on almost everything. We're going to be the best husband and wife ever." We both lapsed into silence after that, staring off at the snow, lost in our own thoughts. I wasn't sure exactly what Tove was thinking. I wasn't even sure what I was thinking. I guess it didn't make much of a difference that Tove was gay. Even if he wasn't, it didn't change my feelings for him. We could still form a strong union and have a meaningful marriage in our own way. He deserved nothing less, and I could give that to him. He got up and then took my hand, pulling me to my feet. He didn't need to, but it was a nice gesture. We went into the palace together, neither of us saying anything, and I twisted at |
11 | 8 | my engagement ring. The metal was icy from the snow, and it suddenly felt too large and heavy on my finger. I wanted to take it off and give it back, but I couldn't. |
12 | 0 | Posted on July 24, 2016 by Carly Janine 2 The morning after my mugging, I awoke in a canyon. I was really lucky that although it was November in the Bay Area, the weather was very mild. It had almost been nice sleeping outside, or would have been if I hadn't been so afraid. What had seemed like a fun adventure only a day ago (spiked with moments of terror) now suddenly felt like a nightmare. I was scared of everyone, and started thinking certain people I met were Evil while others were Good. It wasn't the best mindset to be in while wandering streets full of strangers. During my week on the streets, I had started calling myself Rose and identifying myself as such to some people. So when I walked into the RV place, that's how I introduced myself. Which of course, did not match my ID. Which didn't matter anyway, because I gave them an old expired ID I had kicking around in my purse. None of it made any sense. I had my real ID on me, I had enough money in my bank account to rent the RV, everything could have been fine. But it wasn't. Instead of renting the RV to me, they turned me away. I guess they actually thought I was trying to commit fraud. So I left. I walked outside and although I do not remember what happened exactly at that point, the end result was that I noticed a set of keys dangling from the door of the RV. Something in my delusion told me that it was FOR me, so I just hopped in and drove off the lot. Almost immediately a man from the lot started following me, and I took the on - ramp to the freeway that led from San Mateo to Half Moon Bay. If you aren't familiar with the road, it is pretty narrow and twisty and can be dangerous even in a low - profile vehicle. The man kept gesturing at me to pull over, but in my mind he was AFTER me and was one of the people that had been "chasing" me the whole time I was missing. I was terrified of him. Suddenly there were several police cars behind me, too. Red and blue lights were flashing and I felt like I was leading a parade. I didn't exactly speed, but I did start passing cars on the freeway (using my turn signals!). When the freeway ended in Half Moon Bay, I again used my turn signals through the neighborhood until I found a good place to pull over. I passed a police officer on the street and flashed him the peace sign. Now I was grinning and laughing, like it was all a big joke. Of course I pulled over, and immediately I was terrified again because I had what felt like a dozen guns in my face as they threw the door to the RV open. I know how lucky I am. One officer undid my seatbelt and dragged me from the vehicle, leaving a burn down my arm from the seatbelt. Still feeling lucky. As I hit the ground I peed my pants AGAIN for the second time in two days. If I ever thought I was some kind of cool - headed hero in the face of stress, I have learned I am the exact opposite. I am the quivering jello person that just stares and pees themselves. I'm hoping I can change that about myself with some self - defense classes and such, but I haven't done it. The police asked me a lot of questions and I told them about the guy that had mugged me. They asked me if I was drunk, if I was on meth. I was 100% sober sadly, but they didn't believe me. I had a really nice officer drive me back to the police station in San Mateo. I remember him asking if this was my Thelma & Louise moment. He even pulled out my state massage license from my wallet and asked how this girl got to be in the back of his car. He calmed me down a lot with his chatter and I KNOW you're not supposed to talk to the police, but I did anyway. We talked the whole way back. He was the one that realized I was a Missing Person when we got back to the station. A woman cop inspected me and took my clothes, saying she would have them washed for me. (I was SO embarrassed.) I'm pretty sure the police thought I was drunk at this point, because they threw me in a cell with another lady for many hours. During this time I figured out how to call Neil collect on the phone and got through to him, ending the big question of WHERE THE FUCK IS CARLY? Carly was somewhere she had never been before. Carly was in jail. Finally they brought in a psychiatrist to see me, who spent a few hours asking me if I was on meth, like everyone else had. I kept self - massaging my arms, pacing around, randomly doing yoga. I was a mess. The first night, they drove me over to the county jail and tried to put me in with the general population, which basically broke me. I don't remember much about it, except thinking the other |
12 | 1 | women had microphones and things in their ears, but I was scared. They couldn't drive me back to Medical that night, so they let me sleep on the floor of the commissary office, away from the other women. The next morning, I was sent back to Medical. I had my own room for a few days, and they took away my bed and made me wear suicide - proof clothes. I had hallucinations and delusions and it was a miserable time. I remember hitting the suicide button the first night in there because I had missed all the meals so had had no food for two days. Everyone laughed at me when I said I was hungry, and the guard was pissed. But she did eventually bring me some cereal. Actually, back at Medical everyone started treating me with kid gloves. I had nearly wandered off the first night at county (I did not stay in my seat when told to. Don't do this in jail.) so whenever I was moved anywhere I had to have my arms and legs shackled. After 2 - 3 days (I can't remember or tell anymore) in my solo apartment in Medical, I got moved into a shared space in Medical. They were trying to give me medication, but I kept thinking they were trying to poison me. After a few days I calmed down and I let them give me Lithium, and almost instantly started getting a little better. I was really giving the police kind of a hard time. I remember hitting an emergency call button (you know, one of those big red buttons that you DO NOT PUSH unless there's a riot or some shit.) It was "nice" being in the shared space in Medical. I had gotten very bored in my solo room as I calmed down. I had a roommate, and a common room, and there were four other women in two other rooms off the common room. We watched and sang along to The Voice. We drew pictures and talked about our lives. One of the women was elderly and her boyfriend died while she was in jail and they wouldn't let her out to attend his funeral. It was pretty sad. One of the ladies had murdered a cabbie and was being sent "off to Napa", which I took to be the criminally insane place. I was very scared that I was going to be sent there. While we were there, she was on the front page of the newspaper and we decided not to show her the article. At some point during this first week, Neil, my ex, came to see me. I refused to see him, and I don't even remember why. I was suspicious of him for some reason, maybe still thinking he was trying to keep my daughter from me. My other friends Devin and Val had been tirelessly keeping everyone up to date with everything that was going on with me, and came to see me as well. They lived in San Mateo and everything had gone down right by their house. Had I managed to find their house, a lot of sad things would probably have been avoided. My mom had used a lawyer in San Francisco before, Cindy Diamond, and that's who she contacted to represent me. We totally didn't have the money for a lawyer, but my mom managed to get some money out of the estate in Texas to pay for it, and I became Cindy's' special project '. Thank the gods. I don't know what would have happened to me if I hadn't had a lawyer. Cindy was smart and tough and instantly got me to work writing down the things that had happened in order and getting notes together for an outside psychiatrist. She wanted an official diagnosis for me as soon as possible. After a few days in the shared Medical room, the police decided I could go back to county jail. I was transported to the San Mateo County Jail, where I spent two weeks. Please note that at this time, I was completely confused as to why nobody had bailed me out of jail. I assumed it was because they couldn't afford it, that my bail was set too high or something similar. It turns out everyone just thought that was the safest place for me to "calm down". It hurt and I cried for days wondering why nobody was bailing me out of jail, and I didn't have ANY phone numbers, plus I needed an address to go to upon release, which I didn't have because Neil had said I couldn't stay with him and Molly while I was so messed up. I honestly felt like I would be in jail forever. I spent Thanksgiving 2013 in jail, and while I should be grateful they gave us pumpkin pie, I will say it was the worst pumpkin pie I have ever had in my life. I will never forget the taste of that terrible pie. I will note, however, that Thanksgiving - in - jail did NOT rate as the worst Thanksgiving I've ever had! I kept myself busy as I could to pass the time. There was one exercise bike to share among the 40ish women that were in our big room, so when I could get on it I used that. I took as many showers |
12 | 2 | as I could get away with, since the water was lukewarm at least and felt pretty nice. Except the one time I took a shower when we were not apparently supposed to be taking showers. The CO whipped open the shower curtain on me and scared the shit out of me. In trouble again. I got in trouble a few times during the general population stay. There was a "cold room" they would throw us in when we acted up. I spent a few hours in the cold room for cutting in line one time, and for something else that I don't remember. It was miserable in there. It was just an empty room with a toilet and the AC cranked up really high. The other girls were mostly young, a lot were moms, and almost all of them were nice. The stories they told me broke my heart over and over again. We compared pictures of our kids and how we wound up there. One showed me how to take the elastic thread out of a sock and use it to thread eyebrows! Another girl I traded some stamps to in exchange for her to braid the front of my hair out of my face. Coffee. They sold instant coffee at the commissary that we had to make with lukewarm water from the sink. It was still so good. Awful instant coffee with a wee pinch of sugar and dehydrated creamer and it was SO GOOD! It was like the only altering substance anyone was allowed, so they were all coffee junkies. We would be up until midnight sipping coffee and playing cards. When mail call came, I was always the most popular person in the room. Everyone was curious how I got so much mail, especially since I was from So - Cal, but it was totally because of Devin and Val and Neil. Thank you to everyone that sent me letters while I was in jail. I read them over and over again and if you didn't get a response, which most didn't, it's because I never managed to have stamps and envelopes and a pencil at the same time. Getting stuff from the commissary only happened once a week, and shit would sometimes just up and disappear. Jail. At least I never did see the meth. Some girls got busted with meth in our room and got additional time added onto their sentences. Not sure how they got meth in jail, but hey, wtf. It was sad. Another girl had a seizure in the middle of the night, which was also scary. We were only allowed to go outside for a few minutes each day, and only if the whole room hadn't gotten in trouble. We spent the whole weekend after the meth incident inside. When we did go outside, it was to some cement picnic tables with a high fence separating the tables from a vegetable garden, then the freeway. There was a cat that was sometimes in the garden, and I liked to just sit and watch the plants and the kitty. I started drawing a picture of the garden, and when I finally got out I gave it to the young deputy that was the nicest to me while I was there. I was so manic. I wanted to stay in touch with everyone! I must have given my email address to a dozen women while I was in jail, though I never did hear from any of them afterwards. Finally, after over two weeks in jail, this one girl asked how much my bail was. I was like, well I don't know, I think it is pretty high. She said she had a bail bondsman that could get me out for less than anyone else. I wound up calling him and missing him because he came to get me out while we were eating dinner, then he wouldn't come back for me. But now I knew I could bail myself out. I called Aladdin Bail Bonds next and the guy offered to just bail me out sight unseen for $126 if I came straight to the office and paid it as soon as I got out. WHAT THE FUCK. I SPENT TWO WEEKS IN JAIL OVER $126?!?!!? Now I was pissed. But it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that I was finally getting out. I didn't believe it. They said I had to be out before midnight, so at like 11: 55pm they finally called my name to be transported back for release. The last two hours I was in jail was the longest two hours of my life so far. I kept thinking something was going to go wrong and I wasn't going to get out. But it didn't. They drove me back with a young prostitute that I hadn't particularly gotten along with in jail but now that we were getting out buddies, we were friends. I am so grateful to the girl in jail that showed me how to bail myself out. I would never have known I could even do it. Unfortunately, they only give you a bus or train token when you get out and since I got out after midnight, I had already missed the last train anywhere. As soon as I got out I devoured the chocolate bar that was in my purse and walked over to Aladdin to pay my bail. The dude was |
12 | 3 | so nice! I totally recommend them if you ever wind up in jail. I wound up doing payments for like a year to them and never had a problem. So I was out, but I had nowhere to go. It was so late at night. I thought about walking to Saratoga, where my mom's friend lived. I knew he would look out for me. But I couldn't get ahold of him on the phone. My mom had written down some numbers for me in a letter, but I couldn't get ahold of anyone. I walked around aimlessly for a few blocks, paranoid the whole time that I was going to get picked up and sent right back to jail. Finally I decided to spend the last of my money on a hotel room for the night and figure it out the next day. I wound up at an America's Best Value Inn and it was the most luxurious experience of my life. The shower easily rivaled the post - BurningMan shower I had had once. Also, I was so THIN. I lost weight wandering the streets and in jail, and now that I had a full - length mirror I could really see it. I couldn't remember the last time I was so thin. They were supposed to release me with my medication, but they didn't. I had to walk a mile the next morning to go pick up my meds, and the police officer I picked them up from was so rude to me, I cried on my walk back. But I cheered myself up by obtaining In N Out, which was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted after two weeks of jail food. The next few weeks are still a little blurry. I stayed in the Bay Area for a few weeks to hit a couple court dates, and to see the psychiatrist that my lawyer had lined up for me, Dr. Weiner. I talked to him for three hours and filled him in on most of my whole story. When all was said and done I finally had a diagnosis, Bipolar I. He wrote an extensive paper on me for the court. I spent a few days with my friend's mother in Half Moon Bay, who was also bipolar. That time was very healing for me, being around someone that really understood. She also gave me some cash to help get me through, and I will always be grateful to her. I will also always be grateful to Devin and Val, who I spent more time with and who went so above and beyond in the friend realm the whole time I was missing. I am so loved. Some days it is hard to remember, but I know now that I am loved. Dealing with my bipolar disorder has been a struggle, but I am happy to have a diagnosis and medication that has helped keep me stable these last few years. I hope that by sharing my story to help others feel more free to share their stories that I enjoy so much. In some ways, my life is the same. My daughter still occupies a lot of my time, though not quite as much since she is turning 6 in a few weeks and now has school, day camp, friends. I've been living with my ex - husband for the last 2 + years, which has been comfortable, if occasionally stifling. We are soon ending this arrangement and I am scared of the transition. I don't even know where to start. Do I start with Halloween 2013? The worst day of my life? Or go into detail about the ensuing week, where I slept on the streets and gave away my money to homeless people and wound up in jail? Or do I begin more recently, with all that I have learned about my disorder since then, and the support and love I now receive and feel? I now know how lucky I am. A lot of people with mental illness have the police called on them when they have breakdowns, with varying and sometimes disastrous results. When my nervous breakdown began, my ex was very patient with me. I now have compassion for how scared he must have been. At the time, I just saw him as trying to stifle me, or keep my daughter from me, and other symptoms of my illness. I had just started a new job at a chiropractic office in Mission Valley. It was perfect. Close to my house, the chiro was young and motivated and kind, I was the only therapist. I was set up to be in a great position. Then I started thinking hackers were trying to get into my phone, and my computer. I began to get very paranoid, thinking I was being watched all the time, that there were hidden cameras and microphones everywhere. I ran into a man on Adams Avenue outside Lestat's and burst into tears. He became very worried and asked what was wrong. He tried to take care of me that day, and had my truck looked at by his mechanic, and paid me for a massage. A very kind man indeed. I was starting to fray around the edges, but I had no idea. Even when this man took me out for coffee, I felt like everyone was staring at me. I was constantly onstage. I was having delusions |
12 | 4 | . I started to feel like the man was stalking me. I told my boss at my new job that I felt like I had a stalker and hackers, and I'm sure he knew then that I was crazy and he regretted hiring me, I'd only been at the job about 6 weeks. That night I was sure my stalker would be waiting for me after work, so I got into my truck and I fled. I could hear voices telling me that I needed to go. The radio was giving me special signs that it was time to go. The whole world was telling me to GO. So I ran away. I drove all night, past Los Angeles, all the way to San Leandro, when all of a sudden, my truck broke down. I started to freak out. I was in an unfamiliar part of the Bay Area. I had not - a - lot of money. My truck was broken down. The voices were telling me that something was after my ex and my daughter, and I started looking for them everywhere. Nothing made any sense. I knew I was missing my shift at my new job, so I texted the receptionist that I thought I was having a nervous breakdown, then I threw my phone away. It wasn't even my original phone. That I had broken and buried in a friend's yard a few days prior. I had no way to get ahold of anyone I knew. It was a terrible position to be in, since I had no telephone numbers memorized. I won't go into too much detail about my adventures over the next few days in this post because it's already getting long, and some of it is still very embarrassing to me. I will say that I had been reported missing back in San Diego, and though I encountered the police several times in the Bay Area, not a single one of them ever realized I was a missing person that they had found. One cop gave me a ride when he saw me walking on the side of a highway. Another one dropped me off at a homeless shelter. Yet another one let me go after someone called the police because I was hanging out on a residential street walking up and down it very slowly. All these times I encountered the police, and they were nice, but really didn't help me. The absolute worst night, I got off a train in Hayward and jumped into a cab. The cabbie thought I was on drugs and told me to get out, but I showed him I had money, just nowhere to go, and he took me to a 24 hour diner and left me there. I ordered pie and coffee, but a few minutes later I freaked out and yelled at no one in particular and ran out of the diner. It was the biggest mistake I made the whole time I was missing. It was after midnight in Hayward, and I started talking to a man that got off a bus. We walked aways, to the train station, smoking cigarettes and chatting. I never felt like I was in any danger. We talked for maybe an hour, then all of a sudden he hit me. He broke my nose and I fell to the ground. I was so scared I peed my pants, and he grabbed my pants and told me to show him my "lady parts". I was sure he was going to rape, and then kill me. He had hit me so hard. Blood was running all over my face and hands as I tried to figure out what was wrong with my nose. I didn't even scream, or try to get away. He could have killed me and I would have just sat there and let him. But he didn't. He took my money out of my wallet, then told me to run away. I stumbled off and tried to find help, unsuccessfully. I ran into three people that night, all of which turned away and ignored me. I must have looked homeless at this point. I was covered in blood and not a single person helped me. I had no phone to call the police, so I laid down in a canyon and fell asleep there. When I woke up, a huge raccoon was staring at me. Scared the living shit out of me. At this point I was talking to myself, and scared. I knocked on the door of a nearby house, and a shocked family there gave me some ice for my nose. I told them I fell down. I don't know why I lied, but they didn't call the police, just gave me my ice then I left. Nobody called the police at all until the next day when I drove off in an RV from the rental lot. I was soon arrested, and taken to jail in San Mateo. Once I arrived at the police station, they finally realized I was a missing person. There is so much to say here, but I am going to have to finish this later. I will say thank you for reading this far, and I hope to continue sharing parts of my story soon. |
13 | 0 | I stopped dead as I heard Mr. Johnson's voice. My heart began beating faster and my shoulders stiffened and rose slightly. I was frozen in place momentarily, and then I slowly turned around, full of trepidation. As I came to face him, however, despite my fear and anxiety, my eyes automatically fell to my teacher's long dong. It was soft now, well almost. Rather than hanging down long and straight as it always had when I had seen it those other times, now it was pointing out from his body very slightly. The head of his giant cock was red, and I could see the shine of wetness on the tip. I knew why, and so did Mr. Johnson! Now the only question was, did he know that I knew, and, if he did, what was he going to do about it? I felt myself start to tremble slightly. Then Mr. Johnson, standing right in front of me now, reached out and took my jockstrap, which was dangling below my books, the one strap of which had been held by one of my fingers. In my haste to get in and out of there as quickly as possible I hadn't even realized that I had snagged it when grabbing my books. "You know that you're not allowed to take your jock back to your dorm, Ryan," Mr. Johnson said. The jockstraps were provided by the school, each student's first name and the first initial of their last name written on the front of the wide waistband with permanent marker. After they had been worn (we didn't wear them for every gym class) they were to be tossed in a bin for laundering, and never allowed to be removed from the locker room. "I - I'm sorry, Mr. Johnson. I didn't even know I had hooked it with my books. I guess I just forgot to toss it in the bin after I got dressed." "Ok, Ryan," Mr. Johnson said. "Now you'd better get back to your dorm. Looks like you have quite a bit of homework you should be doing," he said nodding at the pile of books in my hands. Once outside, I fell back against the locker room doors and let out a big sigh, relieved that Mr. Johnson hadn't confronted me about peeping on him. Obviously he had no idea that I had witnessed his private moment in the showers or he surely would have said something. A moment later, I found myself turning around and pressing my eye to the thin crack that appeared between the double steel doors of the locker room. My line of sight was filled with a rear view of my naked teacher walking away. I looked at his ass, and then below it and saw what I, for some reason, longed to see, part of his large cock hanging down between his legs, swinging and bouncing around as he padded across the locker room floor. My attention was diverted from my teacher's oversized penis when he neared the bin where the jockstraps got deposited, and kept on walking without dropping mine into it, still holding it in his hand as he turned and headed in the direction of his office. After I got off, homework, sleep and the next day's classes had kept my mind otherwise engaged and off thoughts of the previous afternoon. But now it was time for gym class again, and I was dreading it. During the hours between classes I had somehow managed to convince myself that Mr. Johnson was fully aware that I had spied on him in the showers, and was fearful of the repercussions I might face now that he had had a day to think over exactly what it was he was going to do about it. When gym class ended, Mr. Johnson, as expected, put me in the last shower rotation to shower with him and one other student. At least it wouldn't be just me and Mr. Johnson this time. That would assure that he wouldn't bring anything up in the showers, and I planned to make sure I was dressed and out of there before my other shower mate. This just convinced me even more that he knew I knew what he had done in the showers, because he was making a point not to shower with me. The fact that he had chosen not to settled my nerves. Now I knew I could shower and dress and get out of there without seeing him again for sure. Despite this, though, I still found myself kind of wishing he would come and take a shower with us so I could get a look at his cock again … and it was with those thoughts of my teacher's large penis that my own started to get hard! I couldn't believe it! I had never once sprung a boner in the showers in front of my classmates, only Mr. Johnson. And now here I was getting one in front of Tommy Mitchell! One night after work I decided to stop off at the park for some fun. I knew for a fact that action took place at this park during the lunch hour, but I was not sure what the action was like at this time of the day, or if there would be any at all. I |
13 | 1 | pulled into the lot of the park and all I saw were straight couples. Sticking around to see if anyone interesting showed up, I sat in my car pretending to be deeply into my book, every now and again looking up to see who was pulling up. As I looked up this time, I saw a nice looking guy get out of his car and head down a path. Then to my right I saw a really hot guy enter the park on foot and do the same. The second guy made my cock stir just looking at him, so I put the book down, hopped out of my car and headed towards the path. As I walked along I came to a fork in the road. I could either continue on straight ahead or turn left. Letting my hard - on be my guide I took the path ahead of me. It was paved and I figured it would be easy to get back to my truck. As I made my way along it I saw the second guy in the distance standing at the side of the path. He looked over at me and then continued down the path. The first guy was not too far ahead. After walking a short way, again there was a cross road. This time guy number one headed into the woods and guy number two followed him. I decided to look for another way up, perhaps hoping to get a glimpse of the two of them in action. I spent the majority of my day distracted from my work, in a state of constant arousal, and it was entirely her fault. She was a new girl at the office and it was her first day, and she was hot! Because of that distraction I was now stuck at the office working overtime. I don't know if it was because I was exceptionally horny or what, but everything about this new employee made me want to cum. Every time she walked by I couldn't stop staring at her boots and thinking they screamed "Fuck Me!" When I walked by her desk at one point, she had dropped something while setting up her cubicle and she was kneeling beneath it, on her knees, with her ass in the air, and I thought I was going to bust a nut right then and there. I was practically crazy from lust. I spent most of the day gently massaging myself through my pants between phone calls and assignments. Every time someone walked by I had to quickly move my hand away so I wouldn't get caught. Every time she walked by, even after removing my hand, I was still afraid that I would leave a huge cum stain on the front of my pants. Eventually, in the later part of the afternoon, I moved to the boardroom to hopefully keep me focused. Moving to the boardroom did keep me more focused, slightly, but I was still extremely horny and thinking of her. Finally, the day was over for everyone else, and I waited to hear the outside door close after the last person left, and then I practically ripped my pants open to relieve my pent - up cravings. It wasn't like I had ever done that at work before, but I still had a couple of hours of work to catch up on, and I would never be able to concentrate if I did not take care of myself, I knew that. Leaning back in my chair I got comfortable and began gently stroking myself. I was thinking back to the new girl on her knees beneath her desk. I imagined her gently sliding her lips up and down on my dick. My fingers gently caressed my shaft, sliding up and down, and occasionally circled around the edge of the head. The sensations raced throughout my entire pelvis, my balls swelled and I squeezed the muscles of my ass. My hips slid back and forth in my chair as I pretended I was pumping in and out of her luscious mouth. I could feel the pre - cum oozing from the tip of my cock, down onto my fingers, lubricating me further and making the sensations even greater. It wasn't long before I felt myself getting close. I didn't want to cum on my dress shirt and tie, so I stood up to shoot on the boardroom table. Now standing, I leaned my head back, closed my eyes and pumped myself toward the orgasm that had been building all day. I could feel my dick twitch in my hand and feel my balls begin to tighten. I was about to spew a massive load of cum the table as I imagined it to be her face. Suddenly I was yanked from my fantasy, hearing someone calling my name to see if I was still there. Before I could get my hand off of my dick, let alone put it away, she was standing in the doorway. She was in mid - sentence, saying something about forgetting her cell phone after an earlier orientation meeting, when she stopped dead in her tracks. I woke up to the smell of chicken. The room was dark. I was in Josh's bed with the covers over me. I was naked underneath. Looking around, I found the small LED alarm clock. It was shortly after nine o 'clock in the evening. I had been asleep for about six hours. Now, just |
13 | 2 | a few short hours before my time visiting Josh was to end, I smelled chicken. It was so strong that it had to have been coming from somewhere in the small dorm room. Then the door opened and I saw Josh's silhouette. He quickly shut the door and kept the lights off. When I stirred in the bed he stopped in his tracks. I sat up and pulled the covers off of me, revealing my hard dick. Josh smiled, but stood up and moved to the other side of the room. "There's plenty of time for that later," he said. "For now, you need to eat. A couple of hours ago I went out and got us some roasted chicken. I was also got us some beer to go with it." He turned a lamp on and I could see that he had a nice feast waiting for us. I got out of bed and slipped on my underwear. I was a little disappointed that he didn't respond to my obvious gesture of sexual interest, but I was also very hungry. He was right, sex could wait. Josh was opening the beers as I sat down. He was dressed in just a t - shirt and boxers. He looked as if he was going to eat and go to bed. I was hoping that this wasn't the case. I wanted to have a memorable night before heading off in the morning. As we ate, Josh couldn't stop looking into my eyes. There was a look of intense love with a glimmer of sadness. He talked about the times we had while I visited. We had definitely taken our friendship to another level and leaving was going to be more difficult than I anticipated. Thoughts of dropping out of school and moving closer to Josh fluttered through my mind, but I dismissed them. I had to go back to school. I needed space to determine if my feelings were real or figments of my lustful imagination. That wasn't to say that I wouldn't visit as much as possible. After finishing our meal, Josh talked about how he wanted to end my visit just as it had started. I was a little confused, but he asked me to follow him. He was at the door before I had a chance to question. I got up and followed him into the hallway. It was very quiet in the dormitory. He led me to the showers and I held back. He spoke in a normal tone. "No one will find us. There's a homecoming celebration at the football field. Everyone is there. The place is empty." With that he went inside, and I followed, my cock rising in my underwear. Once inside he immediately grabbed a hold of me and started kissing me. His hands explored my back, then moved over my butt. Our tongues darted between our mouths. My dick tented my underwear and poked at his waist. When we broke our kiss, he took off his t - shirt and quickly slipped off his underwear, and then dropped to his knees. His lips brushed against the tip of my waiting, covered cock, but he didn't remain there. Instead he began kissing my thigh and running his tongue toward the leg hole of my briefs. As he moved closer and closer to my balls I was afraid that I wouldn't last much longer. But he stopped and stood back up. "That is how much you turned me on the first time I saw you naked," he said. "I thought I was going to lose my mind when I saw you in the shower and then afterward." "Yes I am, but you made a new friend too. Remember?" Upon saying that Marc came from out of the shadows. He was naked and stroking his hard dick. My boyfriend called me this morning at work and told me that he wanted me to meet him at a house party later that evening. He gave me the address and told me how he wanted me to dress. He liked me to wear provocative, revealing clothes when we were out at bars and parties. He liked showing me off and watching as other men reacted. As I got ready after work, my mind wandered to the night ahead. My boyfriend was always testing my limits, trying to see how far I would be willing to go. I couldn't help but wonder what he had planned for tonight. When I arrived at the location my boyfriend had given me, I quickly grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and roamed through the people looking for my boyfriend. I spotted him on the far side of the crowded room, talking to a beautiful woman. I felt a pang of jealousy as I watched him smile and laugh at something the woman had said, with him being totally oblivious to my arrival. I tried to shake off the feeling as I slithered through the clusters of people, heading towards him. I hated feeling jealous but I couldn't help it. I didn't want any other women messing with my man! It was ironic really, because I had sucked the cocks of most of his friends and they had licked, sucked and kissed just about every part of my body as well. But don't misunderstand, I wasn't cheating |
13 | 3 | on him, I did it for him, at his request. He was always there and in full control of the situations. He liked to watch me suck cock, whether it was his own or someone else's, but he would never let another man fuck me. He made it clear that my pussy was his and his alone to fuck. Halfway through the crowd, a group of men complimented me on my attire. Flattered, I did a slow three hundred and sixty degree turn so they could take a good look. I pushed the straps down off my bare shoulders revealing more of my cleavage, with my erect nipples poking their shape into the fabric of my top. I had on a mini skirt that was white and quite sheer. Under the skirt I wore a flesh colored thong and the effect was stunning. I completed my ensemble with black leather high heeled boots that hugged the contours of my legs like a second skin. Their roar of approval drew the attention of the people around them, including my boyfriend. I caught his gaze and he smiled at me as he motioned me to come to him. He led the two of us toward what he assumed were the bedrooms. His assumption proved to be correct and we stepped inside what looked to be the master suite. My boyfriend purposely left the door wide open, and I instantly moved toward the bed. The other woman climbed on the bed too and reached out and slid her hands under my loose fitting top while her mouth licked and nibbled on my exposed midriff. Josh had to go to class later in the afternoon. Although I had hoped we would stay in bed all day, it was also nice to spend some time alone. I reflected over the events of the past two days. I smiled at the memory of Josh and me in the showers starting our fun together. Then there was the pleasurable blowjob I had given to Carl behind the garage. Then, of course, there was Marc. My heart raced at the thought of him wearing my underwear, his mouth on my cock, and the wonderful sensation of his ass surrounding my dick as I fucked him. Marc was the first and only guy I had fucked. But even before we'd had sex I felt a different kind of attraction to him. I hoped that he wasn't upset about Josh and me spending the morning together. I wanted to stay close with Marc … I wanted to continue to see him. I wondered if Josh would mind including him in our sexual play. They had fucked too, so why not? All of this passed through my mind as I showered. The showers were quite busy, but I was oblivious to those around me. When I had finished I returned to Josh's room and dressed. I thought that I would spend a couple of hours exploring the campus. Before leaving, however, I noticed that Marc's computer was on. I went over to see if I could access it to check my e - mail. Luckily, he didn't have his computer password protected. When I opened the browser, out of curiosity I checked his bookmarks and found some gay sites. Towards the end of his bookmark list was a page titled "My Blog". I clicked on it, and what loaded was an online journal Marc had been keeping. There was a list of entries, with the first one dated over two years ago. He had been in high school then. I was worried that Marc might come in while I was reading this, so I hit the print key and watched as page after page after page came out of the printer. It took nearly fifteen minutes to print the entire journal. When it was finally done, I closed the site, then deleted my browsing history so Marc wouldn't know I had accessed his journal. After gathering up the pile of papers, I put them in my knapsack and, without even bothering to check my email, I left the room. I found out right away that the campus was in constant motion. There were so many people around that it was impossible to find a quiet place to sit and read Marc's journal. In the end I decided to go to the library to find a private corner. On the first floor nearly all the chairs were filled, so I went to the elevator and took it to the sixth floor. There were fewer people there and I found a relatively private place to sit. I say relatively because I was probably about twenty feet from a couple who were studying together, mixed with some giggling on the girl's part when her boyfriend would whisper things in her ear and touch her. But I wasn't going to find any better place to sit. A new life began today. I have spent my life in near isolation, keeping others away from me, preferring to be alone. My dating experience is slim. I have kissed only two girls and I am almost seventeen. I have never touched a girl's boobs or had sex with a girl. Strangely, I never even think about it. It's not that I am disgusted by sex or girls, but having sex with the girls I know doesn't seem comfortable to me. I thought one day I would get comfortable with girls, but it hasn |
13 | 4 | 't happened. I think I found out why, today. I know I am taking a chance writing about this and putting it online. Although I know the Internet is so vast that the likelihood of someone stumbling upon my blog is very small (It's not like I advertise it, give the URL to people or share it), I still know I am taking a risk of exposing myself to my classmates and family. I suppose if this does happen it would be a good way to let those who are close to me know who I really am. So, my life truly started today. It totally happened by accident (I think). I had been sick yesterday and had forgotten to get an assignment from Mr. Morgan, my English teacher. After school I remembered the missed assignment and went back to his classroom. It was empty, but I heard movement coming from Mr. Morgan's office, which is connected at the back of the room. I made my way toward it. The door was closed, but not completely. There was a small crack between the door and door jam. I peered in and saw Mr. Morgan digging through the bottom of his desk drawer. His back was to me. I was going to knock, but the way he was searching made me a little curious as to what he was looking for. I decided to wait until he found it, then I would go in. Finally, Mr. Morgan pulled out a magazine from far back in the drawer. He opened it up and began leafing through it. As he did this he turned his chair to the side so that he was partially facing me. I could clearly see his face. He was smiling and licking his lips. Mr. Morgan is a pretty cool teacher. He gives us a lot of work, but is always cool about grading. No one ever failed his class. He is also pretty good looking for a guy in his thirties. He has short brown hair, bright blue eyes, and a trim body. It was strangely exciting watching him without his knowledge. I was able to really look him over. Then he held up the magazine and I could see the cover. It had a man in a leather outfit standing next to another guy in what looked like a ski mask. The man in leather held a chain that ended at a collar around the other guy's neck. It was a gay magazine! I couldn't believe Mr. Morgan was gay. This was a good piece of gossip, but I realized I didn't have anyone I would really tell it to. I continued to watch. Mr. Morgan was rubbing the front of his dress pants. He set the magazine down and opened his zipper. He pulled his dick out of his pants through his opened zipper, and it was hard! I was stunned by how long and thick his dick was. It had to be at least eight inches long. Much bigger than mine. And there he was moving his hand over it. What surprised me the most was that my own dick was now hard in my pants. I wanted to pull mine out, too, but I had books in my hand and was afraid to move for fear of him hearing me. So I stayed still and just watched. As I read Marc's words I started to become aroused. Although I was far enough from the giggling couple, I thought it would be best to be alone. I located the men's room and went inside. It was empty, so I took the last stall. I pulled down my pants and sat down on the toilet. I continued to read: Mr. Morgan was beginning to sweat and moan. My dick was doing its best to tear through my underwear and jeans. It hurt like hell and I had to release it from its confines. As quietly as I could, I stepped back and set my books down on a desk in the last row. I moved just as quietly back to the door. Mr. Morgan's hand was moving quickly over his hard dick now. I unzipped my jeans, reached inside and pulled out my own dick. I began copying his every motion. When he slowed down, I slowed down. When he quickened his pace, I followed. When he began pulling at his balls, I started pulling at my balls. My own cock was rock hard now and I started to imagine Marc's encounter with his teacher. I anticipated Marc's next move, hoping he would storm into the room and suck Mr. Morgan's cock. I read on: I could tell Mr. Morgan was getting close to cumming. His moaning was getting a little louder and he was starting to grunt a little. Then a long string of cum flew from his dick and landed on the floor. Another smaller glob landed on his pants. The rest ran down the side of his dick. I also started to cum. Most of it ended up in my hand, but some remained on my dick. I had never done it before, but with no other option, I ate the cum from my hand and then wiped my hands on the back of my jeans before stuffing my dick back into them and zipping up. He |
13 | 5 | greeted me pleasantly, but with noticeable nervousness. I asked for my assignments and he got them together quickly. As he was doing it I noticed the magazine still on his desk. He caught me looking at it and his eyes got wide. I just smiled at him, and then he handed me the assignments. "Thanks, Mr. Morgan," I said, took another glance down at the magazine and then left his office and his classroom. This was the end of the first entry. I flipped through a few more of the pages and saw Mr. Morgan's name throughout several of them. I hoped there was more to their encounter. I was going to jerk off, but I heard someone come in. Whomever they were, they moved down toward my stall and ended up right on the other side of the door. They stayed there for a few seconds, then went to the stall right before mine. It was very odd. It was only then, drawing my eyes away from my reading material for the first time that I noticed a hole in the wall of the stall where the toilet paper holder should have been. To quote a classic song by The Monks, "I don't like Mondays." Having to head back to work after the weekend always sucked. That alone was enough to make anyone dislike Mondays, but, for me, some sucked more than others, as I had to occasionally start the week earlier than usual. And this was one of those Mondays - I had to be at work for 7: 30am! I work in Manhattan and live in the ass - end of Brooklyn, which meant I had to leave the house at 6: 00am. Blech! Usually, when I have to go in that early, I catch some sleep on the train if I'm sitting, or read if I'm standing. As (bad) luck would have it, I found myself standing. As usual, the train picked up tons of people at each stop, and by the time it hit Myrtle Avenue (one of the big transfer stations), the car was pretty full. This no longer afforded me the room to read. Normally that would have pissed me off a bit and made the start to my dreaded Monday morning that much worse, but suddenly I didn't mind. I was standing in the corner, right by the connecting door, with my side to it, and right in front of me now was a fucking god! This guy would be enough to grab anyone's attention! He was a really handsome guy, in his mid to late twenties, and, judging by the size of his basket, nicely hung. Taking comfort in that piece of knowledge, I became more relaxed and really began to concentrate on feeling up his hard cock through his pants, and then, the next thing I knew, he was pulling down my zipper! He then reached into my pants and very casually pulled my stiff dick out through my fly. I took another nervous look around, only to find once again that no one had any clue or visual path to what we were doing. It was early. Very early. Too damned early for the alarm clock. What's more, it was Sunday. Was I so wiped out last night that I set the alarm when I flopped into bed? Sheesh! It's not the alarm, it's the door buzzer! Who'd be ringing that at - - what is it? - - 9: 30 on a Sunday morning? I bet Allison locked herself out again. Living in a brownstone means being a good neighbor or being a shit. Stumbling a bit in my hung - over state, I hit the buzzer to open the front door to the building and grabbed a robe so that I could offer at least the appearance of modesty when saying "Hi!" to Allison. She might even feel guilty enough to go get a paper for me, too. Before I could slam the door, though, he bounded into view on the landing. Alone and unchaperoned, an unusual state. And proof of God's good taste in children: Golden blond hair, cut short around the sides in an endearingly outdated style, cornflower blue eyes, engaging grin, slender body under an ill - fitting suit. Shades of blue and grey very flattering, though. And the tie, crooked and not quite tight around the buttoned collar. The sun streaming through the windows glinted on his hair and seemed to re - charge his godly batteries. "Days like this make me feel so close to the Lord! His creation all aglow in the light of His blessed sun. 'Consider the lilies of the field: they toil not neither do they spin,' yet they bring us joy every day. You can see the power of the Lord every time you look out the window." This rap continued while I went into the kitchen to fix the coffee. His voice had the kind of Midwestern twang you don't often hear in the city, and a certain breathy quality that would sound great whispered across a pillow. Best of all, he spoke with that preacher's cadence that just picks you up and carries you along. "'Seek and ye shall find. Ask and ye |
13 | 6 | shall receive. Knock and it shall be opened unto you! 'The Bible tells us that salvation is ours for the asking. Will you come with me and ask? "As I puttered around the kitchen, the robe I hadn't bothered to tie firmly came undone. I was getting distinctly turned on by his voice, and I wanted him to keep talking." You make it sound very appealing, "I called out." Are you one of the champion soul - savers? "" Saving souls isn't a contest! "He was properly indignant, but a bit proud, too." It's a duty of every Christian to prepare all men of good will for the judgment to come. And women, too! We're all brothers and sisters and we should reach out to one another in, uh … "he paused and then finished," love. "He must have just spotted the Village Voice on the coffee table. Wonder what he makes of my copy of Honcho sitting right next to it?" There's a wonderful article here on discovering the Lord, "he was saying in a loud voice, apparently assuming that I was still in the kitchen." I can leave this here for you to... "Turning around, he found my groin at eye - level." Daddy, how could you!? "Annette continued and fled the room. Victor followed her, a puzzled look on his earnest blond - cropped hair above the field - green uniform. So I'd stuck my foot in my mouth again. Shit! I had come to town for the weekend to meet my daughter's new boyfriend. I was trying to be gay and a father to a now - adult daughter. Everyone says, when they grow up you have to stop being their parent and start being their friend. Well, I'd just tried that with her new boyfriend, expressing my appreciation at how he was six foot two inches tall, with a wide set of shoulders and slim hips and a basket that filled out even those slouchy green fatigues he was wearing so... oh, my God, that boy must have a huge cock in there! And his face, wide and honest and innocent and kind. Make a joke? Hell, I'd just said the first thing on my lips was all." Call me Hal, "I said." My friends all do. When I hear the name' Harold, 'it means I'm in trouble for my big mouth again. "" Yes, I was, "I said." My daughter says that my mouth just keeps flapping long after everyone else is getting tired of hearing it, and I say things without thinking and end up making everything worse the longer I talk and... "I trailed off, sheepishly." I'm doing it again, aren't I? "I followed that so - tight, rounded set of butt cheeks as they began to wobble up and down as he went upstairs. Oh, god, if I could stick my tongue between those cheeks … Shaking my head, I went to apologize to Annette." What's the difference? "I asked." An orange blushing versus an orange playing the sun going down behind the hills. Sounds the same to me. "" You keep out of this! "Marsha said to me." Come on honey, we'll go shopping and find you your lipstick and then we'll come back and fix these two baboons something to eat. "I saw them out the door. What was it I had to do now? Oh yeah, Victor! He wanted to talk to me privately about something or other. He seemed like an old - fashioned kind of guy, maybe he wanted to ask for my daughter's hand in marriage. It would explain why my unorthodox but positive response to him was why he wanted to talk to me, but not need an apology for me basically raping him with my eyes. So I went to my daughter's bedroom with a pretty positive outlook. I found Victor pacing about nervously. I figured for certain that he was about to ask me the question regarding my daughter's hand, and the ownership thereof being transferred from me to him." Well, it's kind of about … that is … I wanted to … well … I wanted to ask you … if … "Victor started nervously and then stopped." You would? "Victor's face lit up and a grin nearly split it right in two." God, that's great, just great! "" You think so? "Victor's eyes showed confusion. Then he shook his head and said," You know her better than me, but I'd think she'd be the last one who would want to know. "Jake and I first met when he came to work at my office a little over ten months ago. The fact that he was an extremely handsome and masculine man was obvious to everyone, even if he never overtly impressed it upon another, even casually, and his overbearing masculinity made it difficult for me to conceal my obvious weakness for his sexual charm. It didn't help that part of his job overlapped with mine and we met |
13 | 7 | at my cramped cubicle once or twice every day, where he would assist me in my editing task. Even so, I couldn't help the desire I felt, and the last ten months had been tortuous. Every single time he came to my cubicle that desire boiled and bordered on the danger of his being molested by me. My energies became more focused on the task of keeping my emotions under control whenever I was around him rather than on my actual work. It was a Friday, and as I got to my car I realized that I had left my flash drive in my office. I would need it, as I had a bit of work to catch up on before Monday, so I headed back inside to retrieve it. I had worked about half an hour past quitting time, so the place was empty, or so I assumed. While approaching Jake's cubicle on my way to my own, I heard whispers and, as I came to pass the side of it, I heard him more clearly and stopped dead in my tracks, with my mouth gaping. What I was hearing was a whispered, shockingly explicit, sexual conversation between Jake and some unknown person on the telephone. There seemed to be an element of something remotely familiar in what I heard. "Mmm, yeah," the 'voice' moaned. "I'm running my tongue in circles on your balls. Now I'm running the tip of my tongue slowly up your shaft to your cockhead. I'm taking the head in my mouth and now I'm sliding my mouth down over the shaft. I'm going lower and lower, taking your entire cock right down to the …" "Well I … uh … I'm really more into just getting a quick load off on the phone with a stranger before bed. That's why I always call at this time, so I can get off with you before I go to sleep." "I can't," the 'voice' said sounding very nervous. "I'm married and have to be discreet, and only hook up with guys that I meet in places like public restrooms and stuff. You know, just some quick, anonymous action, knowing I will never see them again." Of course, I knew why he was so hesitant. He had no idea that I knew it was him on the other end of the phone, and if he came over, then he would have to reveal his identity to me, along with his secret: that he liked to suck dick. If that happened, I'm sure he'd be worried I might tell some people around the office and then it might get back to his wife. However, I had already fully planned for the likelihood that he might not want to come over and reveal himself to me, and so I put that part of my plan into motion. "Hey I understand," I said. "But I really want a real blowjob, not just a spoken one, and I want you to do it, so, tell you what, to make things easier, why don't we do this? I will give you my address and leave my front door unlocked. I'll tell you on the phone how to find my bedroom, where you will find me on my bed, totally naked, with a throbbing hard - on, and a pillowcase over my head. You just walk in, suck my dick, make me cum, and then just take off. That way you get the opportunity to get some cock, and I get a hot blowjob, without either of us being able to see who the other is, so it will be totally anonymous." "Great!" I said excitedly, a broad smile forming across my face, and my cock achingly hard at the realization that my plan was actually working, and that I was actually going to get to have sex with Jake. "You got a pen and paper to write down my address and directions?" When I arrived home there was a message on my voicemail from Sean saying that he needed to see me, left the address where he wanted me to meet him, and said that I needed to be there by 3: 30pm or it would be too late. Click - - end of message. Looking at my watch, it was heading towards that time already, so I hurriedly made my way to the destination he had given, wondering what was going on. When I arrived, I looked at the note in my hand where I had written the address and then compared it to what was posted on the building. 8412 Jefferson Street. Yes, this was the right place. It was a retail store of some sort that was not open for business yet. Sean was a contractor, and I knew he was currently working on some sort of renovation job, but the store was dark inside. If this was where he was working, why were there no lights on inside? Why were there no sounds of saws and tools emanating from the store? Sean had been so enigmatic on the phone, but why would he ask me to meet him here when no one appeared to be here? I tried the door and it opened. I poked my head in |
13 | 8 | . My eyes were blinded by the transition from the bright light of the outdoors to the darker unlit indoors. "Hello, anyone here?" "You … you jerk! That wasn't the least bit funny!" I was fuming at his little joke, but God, that smile of his was a killer. It turned his face into that of a mischievous young boy... almost... if the boy had been blessed with the muscled body of a Greek God and a coif of jet black hair that begged you to run your fingers through it. I could never stay mad at him when he flashed me that grin, and he knew it! "The rest of the guys are on another job. This place is almost done. I'm just doing some finishing touches, like trim work and stuff, so the store can get set up in time for the Grand Opening," Sean said motioning at some of the store's boxed stock and display units that were scattered about. "But it's a one man job." "Keeps it cooler. Air conditioning is not turned on yet. Owner is a cheap bastard and won't put it on until the store opens. The lights are halogens and hot as hell without any air conditioning. Window gives enough light for what I'm doing," he said, pointing at the large picture window next to the door. "I see. So why am I here?" I asked. "What was so urgent that you needed me to come by your job site at exactly 3: 30?" "Who said it was a joke?" Sean grinned. "Since I'm all alone here, I thought it would be hot to have you come by and give me a blowjob. It would be so hot, to do it here, don't you think?" I looked at Sean. We'd met through a mutual friend about three months ago during the summer, and hit it off immediately. We started dating two weeks after we met. The entire summer had been a madcap, sexual adventure. Sean was a sexual dynamo, and most of our sexual encounters were in his bed, but just a month ago we fucked out on the balcony of his apartment. He fucked me with me leaning onto the balcony's edge, looking out over the street below. The balcony was solidly enclosed up to waist high, and the street was deserted that late, but if anyone in the building across the street and higher up than us had looked out the window they would have been able to see us! Doing it out on the balcony and possibly being seen made me nervous, but it turned Sean on so much, and it showed in the fucking he gave me. So, after him wanting to do that, his asking us to have sex in this store wasn't too off - the - wall. Being that we were in a store that wasn't open yet, allowing us total privacy, I didn't mind giving him what he wanted, so I looked at Sean and grinned. "That might be kind of exciting. Where's the storeroom?" "But... but..." I was stammering because while the store was closed, there was that big picture window and a sidewalk that ran right in front of it. "What if someone looks inside?" I asked him. "Uh... no," I said slowly. It's just that doing it on a balcony at night in the dark is one thing … "I looked at the window again," but I don't feel comfortable doing it out here in the open, in view of this window, in the middle of the day. "" Come on, Julie, "Sean said as he waggled his cock at me." Nobody is paying the place any mind. Why would anyone stop and look through the window anyway? C 'mon Jules, suck it for me! Get down on your knees and suck this big dick! You know you want to. "A wide teasing grin was spread across his face. God, he had a beautiful cock on him. Just seeing it made me practically drool, and I wanted it. Still, I hesitated with some uneasiness about our surroundings. Sean put his hand on my shoulder and moved my position as he too moved. He had now aimed us so we were sideways to the window. That made me nervous, but when Sean said" Suck me! "my desire far outweighed any nervousness I was feeling. Opening my mouth, I let it enter and then began to give my boyfriend the blowjob he so desired." Oh yeah! That's it. Mmm, feels so good baby. Oh, yeah, suck me! "Sean urged." A woman just stopped in front of the window and is looking at the display! "Sean announced only a minute or so later. I started to pull off him but his hand quickly fell to the back of my head, keeping my mouth firmly planted on his cock." God, it is turning me on so much! Fuck, I hope she looks up and sees what we are doing! Suck it, Jules, suck |
13 | 9 | it! Don't stop! I want her to get a good show if she does look. "" Two girls just slowed down by the window … shit, they kept walking! Fuck, why couldn't they have stopped and looked through it! "Jeff grumbled, and then he gasped." The one girl just motioned to her friend and they're coming over to the window! "Sean said excitedly." They're looking at the stuff on display! "Yes! They're looking up!" I tightened my lips on his cock and slid it all the way down my throat, trying to hide my face from view in his crotch. "Ah shit, they're walking away." Sean groaned, and I breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh god, a guy just stopped to look at the window display!" Sean said excitedly a few minutes later, and his dick felt like it got even harder in my mouth as he spoke the words. The guy at the window was all the aphrodisiac he needed, his oblivious looking at the items in the window display, not knowing a guy was getting his dick sucked by his girlfriend just beyond him. "Uhhh!" Sean groaned and threw his head back. "Fuck yeah, Jules! Suck that cock … Shit he's leaving! That guy hung around so long, I thought for sure he was going to see us," Sean whined, and then he reached down to me and said, "Stand up, baby." "All those people stopped and no one saw a thing. No one will see. Please Julie, please! Coming so close to being seen has me so turned on that now I just gotta fuck your tight pussy! Right here, right now! Please!" "Fine!" Sean agreed reluctantly. I knew he would agree because, like most guys, he wasn't going to pass up the chance to slip his dick inside a pussy no matter what. Once I had, Sean got between my legs and spread them apart. Instead of mounting me and jamming his cock in me, he shoved his face between my legs and started eating my pussy. Now, I'm no whore, but I've had my fair share of guys and the one thing I loved about Sean was that he knew how to eat pussy better than any other guy I'd been with. And, unlike a lot of guys who just did it because they felt they had to, Sean absolutely loved to do it. |
14 | 0 | Tag: tale The Island Girls April 19, 2017 cecilecristofariLeave a comment I posted this story a few years ago on melimuses, a Livejournal community created after the publication of Amal El - Mohtar's The Honey Month. One of the challenges was to write stories, in the spirit of pastiche, inspired by various sorts of honey. I thought of a rare sort of honey made from the flowers of arbutus trees, trees with clusters of white flowers and red berries that grow around the Mediterranean. Having recently come back from a holiday in the place this story references, I wanted to put it back up. It is loosely inspired by a legend about the islands in Hyères, or Golden Islands, although I have no idea how ancient this' legend 'actually is. Pirates from Greece and Barbary often swooped on the kingdom, yet the king let his daughters swim in the high sea, alone. His warriors liked to watch them from their ships, glittering like nereids, and hoped to catch a peek of their naked breasts, yet the king let them swim. It was said that the maidens could swim so fast that their hair turned into seaweed and their arms into foam, and if you tried to catch them your hands would close on sea water, and you would only hear their laugh. One day the king heard bells, and saw foreign sails on the horizon. He ran to the shore and heard his daughters playing. The enemy sails were approaching and he called out to them, Swim back! They dove into the waves and darted to the shore. They were so far, the ships so close. And what king believes folk legends about seaweed and invisible girls? So he prayed that the gods would spare his daughters' honour. And all the time they swam, desperately. One, the fastest of all, was almost touching the shore. But her father prayed on. Soon the gods heard him: for the honour of a king's daughters, they can be moved to act. One by one the girls froze. They swelled and rose in the waves, their bodies breaking, screaming in agony, engulfing the pirates' ships in their death of rocks and salt. For they were dying; and the swiftest one gave one last cry to her father and clung to the shore and her arms turned to sand, and her pleading tears gathered in a bitter pool between them. They're maidens still, stranded in the deep sea. But they grew fruitful: like Daphne gave men her laurel leaves and Arethusa her sweet waters, their rocky limbs bore myrtles and arbutus trees. Summer or winter, they flower, green and fragrant with pines, shrub oaks and heather, and centuries have made them drowsy and appeased. Yet how could they forget how their father prayed on, when they called to him for mercy? How he gave up their lives while his warriors feasted in the port? The gods made the arbutus trees bloom with chaste white bells in their honour, every spring. But the islands couldn't forget, and when the flowers turned to fruit, their berries were prickly, hard and tart, and bright red, like the blood the maidens never got to shed. So the gods sent the bees and told them to turn the flowers into the whitest, sweetest honey they could make. But the bees knew how the maidens had been wronged, and thought that men shouldn't forget. They harvested the thick white honey so the gods would be pleased, honey whose first taste was sweet on the tongue. Only after came the bitterness: a choking taste like poison, coating the throat, stinging the palate, yet mingled with such delicious softness that it is impossible not to taste it again, and again, until it is so bitter that the eyes fill with tears and the throat contracts into speechlessness, so strong is the taste of grief long forgotten, so pungent it made even the gods cry. Tagged hyeres, sea, tale Time and Tim March 9, 2017 cecilecristofariLeave a comment I missed Tell A Fairy Tale Day this year, being away at the time, but there was a story I did want to include here. This is a tale my father used to tell us when we were children, and his birthday seemed like a good opportunity to publish it here (or at least, publish what I remember of it!). So, happy birthday, dad. Once upon a time, there was a kingdom renowned for the fertility of its land and the depth of its forests. Beeches, willows and hazels sheltered myriads of birds and deer, birches swayed their branches between neatly - tilled fields, and the most prized possession a farmer could boast was a centuries - old oak tree. It was a country that never knew hunger, because even when wheat ran out, there would always be acorns and chestnuts to harvest. People there loved trees, and the king most of all. The king was a kind man, whose only regret had been his inability to father a child. But even that blessing came in the end, and after half a century, he became the proud father of a baby boy. Prince Tim grew up as one of the most beloved boys in the kingdom. There were some who said that the king's kind - hearted nature was doing him |
14 | 1 | a disservice, and that he doted a little too much on his only child. Indeed, the boy soon became known for throwing tantrums if his every whim was not immediately obeyed, and the king never ceased to invent ways to satisfy him. It was a shame, some people said, that such a lovely prince should turn into a spoiled child. One thing Tim loved most of all was to go on long rides with his father across the forests surrounding the castle. He loved hearing birds sing and watch the play of light through the leaves. One day, when he was six, Tim told his father: His father was overjoyed that his son had inherited his love of trees. He rode through the forest until he found a tall, strong oak tree which bore many acorns. He picked a handful of the fullest, heaviest ones, and took his son to the park by the palace. There, he dug a hole in the ground, right under the bedroom window. It would have been a good time for the king to realise that his little boy still had many things to learn. But he could not stand to see his lip trembling, his eyes welling up. So he took Tim in his lap, soothed him, and said: At last, Tim stopped crying. His father sighed and sent for his best gardeners. As soon as Tim was in bed, a team was dispatched to the beautiful oak tree he had taken the acorns from. They dug it from the ground and planted it under Tim's window, as silently as they could, leaving a big black gap in the forest where the tree should have been. When Tim woke up, he threw the shutters open and squealed in delight. All day, he played at being a forest elf, shooting arrows from the branches of his new oak tree. He did not thank his father, but the king did not mind: seeing his little boy's happiness was thanks enough. The gardeners shook their heads and went on with their work. The king sighed, but there was no distracting Tim from this new obsession. So at night, he went back to the orchard with a team of gardeners, paid off the farmer and uprooted the apple tree to plant it under Tim's window. It pained him to see the sad look on the farmer's face when his tree was taken away, but his son's happiness soon made him forget about it. A few months later, Tim decided that he wanted a weeping willow by the brook that ran near the palace. Then he wanted two rows of elderly cypresses to bring shade to the alley he liked playing in. Then he asked his father for a grove of orange trees, then almond trees to blossom before winter was over, then cherry trees to blossom in the spring. Then he wanted rowans and elders because he liked to watch the birds feeding on the shiny berries. Then he wanted pine trees and cedars, to fill his lungs with their scent in summer. The king did try to take him to the forest more often, to teach him to enjoy trees where they stood. But this was not enough for Tim. Soon enough, the forest itself was depleted of its finest trees, and even the king found it too depressing to go there and stare at the trenches and muddy gaps his gardeners had torn into the ground. 'Please, father, give me a horse! I want to see the kingdom! Everybody says it's so beautiful, and we have all the prettiest trees in the world!' So Tim rode out of the park for the first time in years. He felt like the happiest man in the world, and could not understand why the servants around him looked so glum and said so little. He sang songs to cheer them up, but they only sang a few lines with him, unconvinced. Annoyed, he decided to ride ahead on his own. Soon he came to a spot where a dirty hole gaped in the ground, full of rotting roots and gravel. He frowned. The park around the palace was so well - kept! He made a mental note to ask his father to send gardeners to that unsightly place. An hour later, his horse almost stumbled into another ugly trench. Really, was that how his father's subject treated their land? And not a tree in sight, only brambles and sickly saplings! As he rode on, he was first perplexed, then dismayed. The land looked the same everywhere. Where were the venerable trees the country was famous for? It was not a paradise, it was a wasteland! Had he been lied to all these years? The servants did not seem surprised, but they only muttered vague answers when he asked. How could they not be distressed? Was he the only one to see? After a whole day of wandering, he glimpsed dark branches swaying in the setting sun behind a hilltop. He spurred his horse. Just as the night fell, he arrived at a small, secluded farm. There at last, over the thatched roof, hung the branches of a magnificent poplar tree. 'Keep your money,' the woman said. 'You can sleep in the barn if you like, but I will not sell you anything. And tell |
14 | 2 | the king I'm keeping my tree. '' I must have taken you for someone else. Apologies, my lord. The barn is this way, and there is fresh straw in the stable. You're welcome to it. '' Ah, this, 'the woman replied, frowning again.' It's that cursed prince Tim again, and no offence, my lord. We had a beautiful birch growing here, but his men took it away. Not forcibly, no! 'she hastily added, seeing the shock on Tim's face.' They paid us well. My husband took their money, fool that he is. He's not hearing the end of it, but what good will it do now? It will take decades to grow a tree like this one, we will be lucky if our grandchildren see it! 'What sort of tree takes decades to grow? Tim almost asked, but a little voice told him to keep quiet. A slow, horrible realisation started dawn on him. Of course the woman told the truth. How could he have imagined that a tree as big as a house could appear in a night? So that was how his father had tried to please him: by uprooting every beautiful tree in the kingdom to plant near the palace! And he had taken it all for granted, and played in the park without realising the hurt he had caused! Tim could not bear it. Before the sun rose, he saddled his horse and took of on his own, leaving the whole bag of gold before the woman's front door. He rode and rode, seeking the remotest, most overgrown paths, the ones where his father's men had not yet gone to look for new trees to give him. Little by little, the path grew steeper and wilder. Now the forests were whole again, and they were dark, full of dead wood and treacherous roots. The horse stumbled several times, until Tim took pity of him and tied him to a hard gnarled trunk. He carried on on foot. Hours later, he thought he was lost for good. Suddenly he stumbled upon a clearing, and he almost fell to his knees with wonder. There stood the tallest, widest, most magnificent oak tree he had ever seen. Its roots had to sink to the centre of the earth. The ground underneath was mossy and soft, cooler than the coolest shade in the park around the palace.' Oh, a thousand years old at least. My great - grand - father used to play in the hollow of the trunk when he was a child. Do you like it? 'A thousand years old. Tim felt tears sting his eyes and fought them down. Even if he wanted to, he would never be able to see a tree like this one in his park. Not unless he called a whole team of workers to uproot it and plant it under his window. Time. Yes, Tim needed more time than he would ever have. So he sat down under the tree and stopped thinking, only gazed at the light playing in the branches for hours and hours and hours. Tim thanked him and walked back to his horse, and rode all the way back to the castle. There, his father waited in anguish. The servants had told him they could not find his son anywhere. Seeing Tim's disquiet, his face fell, as if he braced himself for another tantrum. Tim threw his arms around him and hugged him without a word, for a long, long time. Then he searched the park for a spot with just enough sun and the right sort of soil. There, he buried a handful of acorns, poured a little water, and made a circle of stones to mark the place. His father walked up to him and asked him what he was doing.' I've met an old man who lived under the most incredible tree, 'he replied.' No, I don't want you to get it for me, 'he added, seeing apprehension on his father's face.' I just want to see if I can ever grow one. 'Today Tim is an old man with a white beard of his own. Whenever he finds the time, he takes long rides through the kingdom, planting seeds and talking with farmers about the best ways to graft a sapling, or prune an apple - tree without hurting it. He is a beloved king and a doting grandfather. But the thing he likes most of all is to sit in the shade of a tall oak tree that grows in a corner of the park around his palace. It is neither the biggest nor the oldest tree there, and Tim knows that although it may live to a thousand years, he will never see it. But it does not matter to him. Every day, he takes his grandchildren there with him, and they sit together in the shade of the tree, and he tells them stories of the birds that nest there and the squirrels that squabble in the branches. I had plenty of story books when I grew up. Some of the stories stuck with mefor longer than others, sometimes for reasons I didn't realise at the time. The grandfather who made trees bloom is a very simple tale |
14 | 3 | , but underneath the surface, there is so much going on - about grief, moving on, happiness and happy endings - that I couldn't resist expanding on it a little bit. You can probably see at which point the story becomes mine. That's the part of the story that played in my head between the lines, as soon as I was old enough to realise why this story intrigued me so much. Once upon a time there lived a grandfather and a grandmother. Well, 'Grandfather' and 'Grandmother' is what the people affectionately called them, because they had no children. This was their only regret in life; as for the rest, they were quite satisfied, even if there wasn't always much food on the table and the roof was leaky sometimes. One winter day the grandfather went into the forest to cut some firewood. It was a cold winter, so there was very little usable wood left, and he wasn't strong enough to fell a whole tree by himself. In the end he decided to cut chips from an old tree stump. But as soon as the axe hit the stump, it parted into, and out of it leapt a tiny white dog. The puppy slipped on the snowy ground, fumbled around and ran to the old man, wagging its tail and making big happy eyes at him. The grandfather's heart melted at once. He took the little dog in his arms to protect him against the cold (he instinctively knew that it was him, not it) and ran back home before the little critter got hungry. The grandfather could not agree more, and it was plain that the puppy agreed, too. So they kept him with them. Through the winter, the puppy grew bigger and stronger, and in a few months he had become a large, healthy white dog, who was always well - behaved, never barked unduly at neighbours and always brought the grandfather safely home when he had to stay in the forest after dark. They were very happy. The next winter, however, food grew even scarcer than usual. Throwing out the dog and letting him fend for himself was out of the question, so the grandmother just sighed whenever her stomach rumbled as she had to divide the food into three portions. But one day, when the grandfather called the dog for their daily trip to the forest, the dog replied: 'Grandfather, don't take your axe today. Take a shovel and ask Grandmother to pack some food for you. We're going to the mountain.' The grandfather had never thought about it. But of course it was right: had they not always understood each other perfectly, with nothing more than a hello, a little wag of the tale, a pat between the ears? He beamed at the dog. Up then went, and up and up and up. It was not long before the grandfather was the one who panted hardest. So the dog stopped and told him: So the grandfather rode on the dog's back all the way to the top. When they arrived, he split the grandmother's victuals and they shared a scant feast. Then the dog told him to get his shovel and dig. One, two, three, and the fourth time the shovel hit the dirt, it clanked against something hard. The grandfather bent and was astonished to retrieve from the earth a antique golden plate, a very heavy one. 'Why would you thank me? You keep me fed and warm and I'm very happy with you, because I love you two. Come on, let's go tell grandmother!' The grandmother was overjoyed. In the city, they would be able to sell the plate for a good price, and then they wouldn't have to worry for the rest of the winter. In fact, the plate impressed a local merchant so much that he gave them enough money to buy food and fix their leaky roof. They celebrated that night, eating lovely rice balls and drinking fine rice wine, and the sounds of their laughter and joy was so much that their neighbour wondered what was going on and came down to see for himself. Unlike the grandfather and the grandmother, this neighbour was not a good man. He was well - off, but never offered any help to anyone, and more than once he had teased the grandfather and grandmother who chose to feed a useless dog when they should have cast him out long ago. How surprised was he when he discovered that they were eating fine food inside their newly - thatched house! He put on his best smile and offered congratulations. The grandfather welcomed him and offered him some wine. 'It's all thanks to the dog, you know! Such a clever lad. Who knows how he knew about it, but he led me to a treasure in the mountain. Now we have enough food to last us all winter! Isn't that wonderful?' 'Oh yes, yes it is,' the neighbour said. He kept smiling, but the smile strained his face and his stomach curled with envy. 'Say, grandfather, wouldn't you let me borrow your dog, just once? I need to to get some firewood, and you know the forest is not safe after dark.' |
14 | 4 | The dog looked a the grandfather for a long time, but he said nothing. He was a good dog. He would help the neighbour, even if he had a bad, bad feeling about this man. The next day, the neighbour came to fetch the dog. But instead of going to the forest, he headed straight for the mountain. When he got ther, he jumped on the dog's back and slapped his sides hard. The dog yelped in pain, but the man shouted: The dog had no choice but move ahead. After a while he stopped. The neighbour took out his lunch and wolfed it down without leaving a single scrap for the dog. Then he barked: The dog stubbornly sat on his hind quarters and said nothing. Irritated, the neighbour started digging. He dug and dug and dug, but all he could find was an old pot full of rubbish. Enraged, he threw it, as hard as he could, at the dog's head. Then he went back home on foot, alone. He never looked back twice. He never cared a bit that out there in the mountain, the dog lay still and never followed him. 'Oh, that useless animal? He made a fool of me. There was no treasure up there. Well, if he hasn't come back, it means I killed him, I suppose. Good riddance.' The grandfather's heart broke. He ran to the mountain and called for hours, until he found the poor dog lying with his head broken. He wept, but it was too late. All he could do was bring him nack and bury him next to the house. They were very sad, the grandmother and him, but what could they do? There was wood to cut and a home to tend to. When the spring came back a tree grew on the dog's grave, and their hearts lightened a bit, because they had a reminder of their beloved dog, the only child they ever had to ease their old age. The grandfather loved to take naps under the tree. Sometimes he dreamed of the dog, and in the dreams, the dog stirred as he carried him down from the mountain and it always seemed that the wound on his head was not so serious after all. The dreams broke his heart a little every time. And then he had to get up and carry on cutting wood and talking about little things with the grandmother. After all, they had managed all this time, poor and childless. They could manage a bit longer. Winter came again. They had long spend the money from the treasure, and food was hard to come by again. One chilly day, the grandfather sat under the tree, and he fell asleep. In his dreams, as usual, the dog came to him. But this was no ordinary dream. The dog looked at him and spoke clearly: 'Grandfather, the tree is big enough now. You need to cut it and make a mortar and pestle from the biggest part of the trunk. Trust me.' The grandfather woke with his heart racing. What vision was this? He knew, he was certain that he could trust his dog. He took his axe, and worked all day, carving a beaufitul mortar and pestle from the wood. The grandmother gaped at him when she saw what he had done. But she didn't discuss the dog's instructions. She took the mortar and started pounding a little leftover rice. But as soon as the pestle hit, there was twice as much rice in the mortar, and when she pounded again, the mortar overflowed. Soon she had to stop pounding, or the kitchen would have been smothered under a tide of delicious, fragrant rice! But their neighbour walked past their house again, and heard them feast and rejoice. He didn't like hearing people rejoice. It was unnatural to him, and he always wondered what reason they had to be happy that he didn't have. So he greeted them with his best - looking smile. The grandmother showed him the mortar, and explained that the dog was still helping them from beyond the grave. The heart of good people is a beautiful thing, always big enough for love, always too small for rancour. They hadn't forgotten what had happened to their dog, but they assumed it must have been an accident - if people can die for the most mundane reasons, why wouldn't dogs? So they gave him the mortar. The neighbour thanked them casually, but deep inside he started counting the fortune he would make selling all the rice the mortar would create. He stormed home and barked at his wife to start pounding some rice, and fast. But as soon as the pestle hit, suddenly there was only have as much rice in the mortar as before. She pounded again, and half the rice disappeared. If she hadn't stopped, soon there wouldn't have been a single grain left. The neighbour was enraged. He tossed the mortar into the fire. Soon there was nothing left but ashes. When the grandfather came to ask for his mortar back, he told him: 'Grandfather, go get some of the ashes from the mortar and prepare for a trip to the city. |
14 | 5 | Sprinkle some ashes on the trees near the princes' palace. You'll see what happens! 'He woke up brutally and sprang to his feet, almost laughing out loud. His dog was still with him! Even though the tree was cut and the mortar was burned, he still talked to him! He could barely wait until dawn. At first light, he went to his neighbour's house. He said he needed to get some ashes from the mortar and braced himself for the mocking remarks that inevitably came. The old man had bothered himself with a disloyal dog, a tree that had threatened to throw down the house and a ridiculous mortar, if he now wanted to treasure some ashes, it was his own problem! The grandfather thanked him anyway and went to town. Once he was near the prince's palace, he sprinkled the ashes into the wind. What a wonderful sight! As soon as the ashes touched the trees, myriad of lovely pink flowers blossomed. Passers - by stopped and gaped, and the grandfather himself couldn't close his mouth. But the most surprising was yet to come! A voice called him from the castle, and ordered him in the presence of the prince. The grandfather was so scared he barely dared to move. Perhaps the prince didn't like flowers? But the servants smiled and some even bowed to him. They brought him where he had never imagined he would ever go, inside the castle and into the prince's own presence.' So you can make trees blossom in the middle of winter? What a strange thing, what a wonder. I do love flowers and my wife does too. I want to thank you for what you did. '' A small token of my gratitude. Now this talent of yours will be veru useful. You see, I am preparing for war, and no soldiers like to fight in the middle of winter. But if they see the trees blossom before them, think about how they will feel! They will see that even the order of nature bows to my claim! They will march for me and crush our ennemies by surprise! What a boon, what a blessing! Now you will become part of my court. You will come with me to war as my herald. What a great idea. We should march tomorrow. '' My lord, I am undeserving of such an honour. I barely dare to lay my request at your feet. My wife doesn't know I am here, she is just a poor grandmother from the mountain. She will never imagine that you have done me such a favour. She will be terrified if I don't come back home. May I go home and tell her? 'The grandfather practically ran out of the city. In his hands he held the beautiful robes. What had he done? War! There would be a terrible war, and all that was because of him! Couldn't he be content with the parting gifts his dog had given him already? What would he do now? Surely the prince would be terribly angry if he didn't show up in the morning, and he would go to war anyway! What was he to do? He went to bed, praying for a dream that would advise him. He had trouble finding sleep, but in the end the exhaustion got the better of him. He slept uneasily, but at last, the dog appeared to him. The dog still said nothing. And that was when the grandfather understood. His dog wouldn't speak to him, because he was dead and buried. You should never try to bring the dead back. Only misery will come from it. And now they saw each other one last time across the veil of death, he understood that at last.' Thank you, my friend, my only son. Thank you for all you've done for us. For what little life I haveleft, I will never forget it. 'It was just a dream, but the tears were real. When he woke up, there was already a little light on the horizon. He knew ewactly what he should do. He went back home and took off the robes. Now he looked at them more closely, he realised that there was enough fabric there to make a new kimono for the grandmother, too. It was a good gift, after all. As for the neighbour, he ran straight to the city and to the princess's palace, loudly shouting that he could make trees blossom. Out came the princess, who had heard of the miracle. But when he threw the ashes, nothing happened at all. Worst, a little fleck flew into the princess's eye. She cried out in pain and her servants covered their mouths in horror. When she recovered from her shock, she was still so angry that she ordered to have the man tossed in jail, and she decreed that if anyone came near the palace claiming they could make trees blossom, they would suffer the same fate, war or not. Thus the war never happened, and the grandfather and the grandmother went on with their lives, often recalling the memories of their dog with fond smiles. As for the neighbour, I don't know what became of him. If nobody remembered about |
14 | 6 | him, perhaps he is still in jail. Anyway. There was a story I liked when I was little, which has given me much thought ever since. My mother didn't seem to like it as much as I did, and I couldn't really understand why. After all, it was a very cool story of a girl discovering that she should stand up for herself and finding creative ways to do so, and I treasured that kind of tale at the time, as they were so rare among the stories of heroic guys and helpless, worthless girls. That's how I saw it anyway. Years later, I learned a bit more about how people thought when that story was first told, and I came to suspect why my mum didn't like it all that well. A girl who stands up for herself is one thing, a girl who has to take responsibility for her husband's violence is another. Sadly enough, many stories were told to teach women that they were accountable for their husband's behaviour, and that they should be able to change him through the power of their feminine virtue if they are dissatisfied. That's how I discovered that a story I naively believed was about a resourceful woman was, probably, not much more than a tool to teach women their proper place in the world. But then I wondered: does it have to be so? If this tale had such a bleak hidden meaning, how come I found it so good when I was a child? I rooted for active, resourceful heroins long before I learned the word 'feminism', after all. This story I read could not be all that sinister. So here is today's story: not the one in the book, but the one that formed in my head when I read it. Once upon a time, there was a woman called Halima. She was a good person who always had something in her pantry for visiting neighbours, kind words for the children and a warm meal on the stove for the beggars in the neighbourhood. She was not a saint; she got angry and swore sometimes when she had cause to, but she was patient and kind and most people loved her for it. Even people who are no saints have a right to be loved. As far as her friends and family were concerned, Halima led a happy, eventless life and was blessed with reasonable wealth, a lovely home and a good husband. They often congratulated her and she gave them tight smiles in return, which they never seemed to notice. In truth, Halima had long given up hope that they would see the dark stain on her perfect life. Marwan, her husband, worked hard enough in the day and kept her fed and clothed, it was true. But at night, he came home with alcohol on his breath, and then the smallest thing she said was an offence that demanded punishment. Had she made something to eat just before he arrived? It was too hot, she was trying to poison him! Had she cooked in advance so it would be the right temperature? It was cold, she was such a slob! Did she greet him with a smile? She was mocking him! With a blank face? Disrespect! The slaps left red marks on her cheeks and blue marks on her body. And when they went to bed, she screwed her eyes shut and clutched at the sheets to avoid crying out in pain under him. But she could not tell. She could not be ungrateful. After all, he bought her clothes and a pretty house, and they never wanted for food. So she told the other women at the bath house that she had been negligent and insolent and that he had hit her in justified anger, or sometimes she said nothing and she just smiled. But one day she couldn't take it anymore. She was still sore from the beating the night before, and her pillow was wet from her crying. So she wrapped a scarf around her face and sneaked out of the town, to a mountain in the outskirts where a wise hermit was known to live. After a long climb, she reached a cave. The inside was lined with all sorts of strange things: jars, instruments, dried animals. At the very end, an old man sat on a threadbare rug. Swallowing her fear, Halima entered and greeted the hermit. He cut her short. 'My husband!' she replied, and was surprised at how easily the words cascaded out of her mouth. 'I want my husband back. He used to be so sweet when we were married, we were in such beautiful love, but as the years went by, his patience wore so thin! Now he comes back drunk every night, and everything I do earns me a beating. I've tried my best with him, I swear I did. But there's nothing to calm him when he's in one of his moods. And he's in always in his moods now.' 'Tried your best, have you?' the hermit snorted, a harsh, sudden sound. 'Right. I can help you. But for that, there is one thing I will need from you.' Halima ran out. Halfway down the mountain, she |
14 | 7 | burst into tears. The only hope she had of getting help rested on her doing something that would get her killed. But was it worse to be killed than to live on like this? She wiped her tears and went back home, thinking. That night, a huge lion went to drink from the stream in the valley. He was a young male looking for a pride to lead. He was a bit hungry, but otherwise very pleased with himself: he was a lion, and every animal in the country feared him. So he was not a little surprised when a furry bleating thing leapt haphazardly at him and almost landed on his face. The lion was a pragmatic beast, however, so he promptly devoured the helpless lamb and licked his lips, contented. When he raised his eyes, however, a second surprise was waiting for him. A few steps away, a woman stood, still and trembling. He eyed her for a moment. But he was not hungry anymore, and she was of no interest to him, since she appeared to have no more lambs to toss at him. The day after, he came back to the stream. This time again, the woman was there, and she tossed him another bleating critter before slowly walking away. Every day after that, she came back, every time standing a little closer, for a little longer. The lion didn't mind. She was a nice woman, and she had an excellent eye for prime lambs. Day after day, Halima's fear of the lion diminished. At first she had been terrified, convinced that her last hour had come. But the lion had just looked at her, his wrinkled face unreadable. After a while, she stopped bringing lambs. He seemed a bit disgruntled the first time, but otherwise not overly annoyed. Then one day, she knelt beside him and put a hand on his mane. He just kept drinking. In a daze of fear and excitement, she closed two fingers on a hair and pulled. Emboldened, she plucked a second hair. The lion shook its mane. She closed her eyes and plucked a third. Somethine warm and wet touched her arm, and she thought that this was it this time … until she opened her eyes, and found the lion licking the back of her hand, purring like a kitten. 'Indeed those are three hair from a living lion's mane,' he said. 'Now tell me, Halima. You managed to tame a wild lion, a beast who terrifies the best hunters … and you're telling me you're unable to manage an unruly husband?' Halima looked at him. It was her dismissal, she understood, the lesson she had been waiting for. She nodded and thanked him, and walked back down the mountain. Once she was back home, she went to her kitchen. She prepared rich stews of veal with prunes and of pigeons in saffron sauce, made dishes from aubergines and coriander, salads from oranges and cinnamon, sweet almond cakes and pancakes dripping with honey. She put on her best clothes and waited, appeased and trusting, for Marwan to return. Stories don't ever really end. They are just cut at the most convenient moment. What better moment to finish a story than a promise? 'Happily ever after,' 'Tomorrow is another day': those are just promises for new beginnings. And so does this story end: on the promise that the strength of feminine virtue and patience can tame lions and bring brutal husbands to reason. Here is the beauty of such promises: they don't depend on anyone for their realisation but the person they are made to. If your husband still beats you and drives you to despair, this one says, then you haven't tried hard enough. Try harder, and all will be better. Try all your life. Hope and believe, for you'll receive help from no one but yourself. 'Who did you make this for?' he hissed. Then he shouted: 'Who is he? Who are you waiting for, you whore? Tell me where he is!' 'It's you!' Halima cried. 'There's no one but you!' But as she cried she realised she did not look at him. Yes, she was saying the truth, but it was not her husband she was talking to. The one she had been expecting was a kind, loving, smiling young man called Marwan, who would never have raised a hand on her and who had disappeared long ago, and much as she wanted to cry when she realised it, he was never to come back. The neighbours disagree on what happened just then. Some said that a man's scream covered Halima's usual cries. Some said there was a terrible commotion that stopped abruptly after a few seconds. Some say that, on the contrary, there was a sudden silence. Whatever happened, a man from the neighbourhood went to their door after a moment, and knocked. In he came, and he found Halima alone, sitting in front of a table laden with an incredible banquet. Well, almost alone. As the neighbour was about to apologise for surprising her in her private quarters, he saw the huge head |
14 | 8 | of a fearsome lion, its chin still dripping with red, rise from under the table and stretch onto Halima's lap. Halima smiled as if there was nothing unusual, and offered him to take some food home. 'Oh, this,' Halima said with a graceful wave of her hand. 'Well, you see, it appears that the hermit was right. If you didn't marry the right man, you can always get help from the right kind of friends.' And she fed the purring lion some fragrant veal from her hand. Tagged tale The bottle from the sea February 26, 2013April 4, 2017 cecilecristofariLeave a comment I just read in asakiyume's journal that today is Tell - A - Fairy - Tale day. I've never heard of that before, but I love the idea. And I've had a long day. Fairytales are just what I need right now. Once upon a time, there was a poor fisherman. Not only was he poor, he was unlucky: there was no one in the village with the same knack for bringing nothing home but old bones from the sea and torn nets, and what little fish he managed to catch never got enough money to pay everything he'd come to owe his neighbours, his landlord, and the local shop owners. At first he'd berated himself for being so bad at catching fish, then he got used to it - his landlord and his neighbours and the local shop owners didn't seem too unhappy to always ask money from him, and as the interest rates soared, he soon figured that he was getting the village going at his own expense, rather than burdening it. One day he went to the sea, feeling even less lucky than usual. He threw his net, felt something tug, drew it back up again. In the net was the broken jaw of a dead donkey. He threw it back into the sea. "At least I can sell this for scrap metal," he thought, pulling it out. It felt heavy - solid heavy, not sloshing with sea - water. He opened it. There he stood, taller than the tallest building in all the village. A genie. His hair had rotten away and seaweed grown on his scalp, his nostrils sprayed out water rhythmically, his eye were liquid like beryls. The fisherman sat down and shielded his eyes from the sun with his hands. Really, this was a big genie. Big fat luck indeed. And now he was going to die, and his wife would be left alone to pay the debts. He sat back heavily, and sighed. The genie looked confused. The fisherman grew impatient. "You're going to kill me, right? That's what genies do to fishermen, so just get on with it!" The genie sat down beside him. It cast a huge shadow, and suddenly, the fisherman didn't feel so brazen. He lifted up his eyes, tentatively, hoping that the genie would make it quick and painless, and realising at the same time that "quick and painless" didn't sound comforting at all now he was about to experience it. The genie gazed straight ahead as if he didn't see him. He looked utterly lost. "I was imprisonned down there because I couldn't pay my debts," the genie said. "I don't know how long it's been. I don't feel like killing anyone right now." Ah. That was unexpected. The fisherman's mind started to work very fast. There was one other thing genies did. Three wishes. Get his wife a set of jewels? No, she'd never been that fashion - obsessed to begin with. Owning the house he lived in? Come to think of it, it was a shack. A new boat? Hell, he'd rather not work at all if given the choice. He couldn't imagine what life was like away from the sea and the scarcity of fish, but he'd always heard it was the most desirable thing in the world. And if not for himself, at least for his wife. Maybe they'd finally manage to raise children like they'd dreamed they would. "I know, genie," he said. "Make me a king. No, wait, not a king. A landowner. Yes, that's about right. Make me the owner of half of this country's land and money and businesses. Give me so much money the interest rates will be enough to live by. I don't want to work a single day in my life. Maybe I'll lend people money if it pleases me, and they'll thank me instead of insulting me, for once. Yeah, I like that. Make them thankful enough." "I never was good at granting wishes," he breathed in a deep, hollow genie's voice. Then he looked at the fisherman, too stunned for anger, it seemed. "I don't understand, he added. I owed you a wish and I couldn't grant it. I'm in a debt I can't pay, again. I should be imprisonned. What am I doing here?" "Poor devil," he said at last. "You |
14 | 9 | 've been down there a long time, haven't you? Nobody's imprisonned for debt anymore. These days we're imprisonned by debt. I'm sorry I didn't get it any sooner. I've been a fool to believe a poor sod like you who's spent centuries in a bottle could have any power left. Too bad landowners and shop keepers don't grant wishes. "" You're in it right as we speak. I'm sorry, my friend. Let's keep each other company while we have to endure it. Here, perhaps with the two of us to lift that net, we can catch something bigger. "And one day we will, he thought. One day there won't be enough gold in the world to pay all these debts, and we'll just sit by the fire and eat our fish and be glad, and they can eat their gold for all we care. Our fish won't be for sale then. How sweet it will taste. How sweet it could taste even tonight, knowing I have a new friend to share my catch with. 'Please,' she said, 'will you tell my son that he has to stop eating so many sweets? They're not good for him, they're making his teeth rot. I tried and tried to make him stop, but he just won't listen. I think he'll listen to you.' The mother was quite surprised to hear this. 'But, Bapuji, couldn't you tell him this last month? Surely you didn't need a month to think about it?' Tagged random, tale Why Cthulhu and Darth Vader didn't have cats December 5, 2010April 19, 2017 cecilecristofariLeave a comment Last time someone was sitting with a cat on their lap, I thought of the tale of the Goldcrest and the Eagle. Ever heard it? I'm not sure, as it works much better in French. Here it is, in case you haven't. Once upon a time the lion was crowned King of Animals. But the birds were not satisfied. Their own kingdom was the sky, where no lion has ever been able to go. And sure enough, the Lion didn't care all that much about the skies, so he agreed and asked them who would be their king. The debate got heated very quickly, until the Lion roared in annoyance:" ENOUGH! I am the King of Animals, remember? I'll choose my own vassal. But since I am just and wise, I'll give the title to the most deserving. Let all the birds fly as high as they can into the sky. The one that can touch the sun will receive a crown! "The birds all agreed to this with vocal enthusiasm, even ostriches and hens and kiwis, which proves that the Lion's reign was just and democratic and satisfied everyone. The next day, they assembled before the Lion's palace. The Lion had a gun in one hand and binoculars in the other. He fired, and the birds all soared to the sky. The sun was very high and very hot. One by one, the birds slowed down, and flew down to the ground. Only the Eagle carried on and on. The Lion followed him with his binoculars and a smile on his face. Now it must be said that what cows and gazelles have been gossiping about, that the Lion and the Eagle had always been good friends and that both privately agreed that only predators should be kings, is a completely false accusation, and they even apologised publicly before being served at the Lion's table, which is the best proof you need. A couple of chimpanzees had taken out their binoculars too, and watched as the Eagle slowed down, silhouetted against the sun. Then, just as the Eagle started his descent, they glimpsed a tiny silhouette that took off from the Eagle's head and soared, just a little bit higher, just as the Eagle was too exhausted to catch up. When the Eagle was back on the ground again, exhausted, a tiny silhouette hopped from his head. It was the Goldcrest, who, it turned out, had been hidden among his feathers all along, and only had to take off at the last moment. But the chimpanzees were unanimous: the Goldcrest had reached higher than the Eagle. He was the one who should be King of Birds. And before the Lion could say anything, the little bird, puffing with pride and still no bigger than a nut, received a tiny golden crown. Centuries later, the chimps started to walk on hind legs and call themselves humans, and decided that being hairless and thin - skinned and bipedal was more relevant than brains or wisdom or strength when it came to choose a King for all the Animals, and so they crowned themselves. But they hadn't counted on a simple truth of the universe: you can be as big, strong, clever, cheeky, hairless or loud as you like, there will always be someone to thwart your plans for world domination. This time the challenger came in the form of a small, furry, long - eared and damnably cute mammal. They called him the Cat. He was the chimps' undoing. Now it is established that humans can |
14 | 10 | be as powerful as they like, when they come home to their cats, they will still be reduced to the pitiful state of pillows, tin openers, and personal grooms. No matter their power and their wealth, they are nothing when chided by a dignified mewing cat. The only way they can escape is by not allowing one into their house. Once it gets there, the most evil plans for world domination are doomed. You will always be second to a miawing furry thing. |
15 | 0 | It is three o 'clock in the morning and as I pet the sleeping cat next to me it hits me. Almost 14 years of marriage are over. My life is forever changed and my children's world is about to crash. How are they going to handle it? How am I going to handle it? I was in my 20's the last time I was single. Now I will be a single mother. What has he done? I am so mad. His poor decisions are going to effect us for the rest of our lives. He not only cheated on me, he cheated on his children too. How dare he!!!! I need so much strength now, I need to stay firm. I can't keep him from the kids, but I can't let him get to me. I fear his mother. She owns this house and she said she would give me time to find a place if we ended up separating. But she also said similar things when we moved out of the last house and that turned into a fiasco that still haunts us all. Will he come home in the morning? Will he force his way back into the house? What will the morning bring? My stomach is in knots and I can't help but cry. Then I think of him calling me a cry baby and I am mad again. I go back to petting my cat. He is purring and comfortable, so peaceful. I am envious. I hope I can sleep tonight. The rhythmic purring makes me feel so much better, maybe sleep will come. Three o' clock in the morning. Today after my husband left for work I sat down at our desktop. As usual it was on my husband's settings, I hardly ever use the desktop so that is nothing unusual. He has been getting a lot of new female facebook friends, from the looks of it, they are porn actresses or strippers. Because my kids play facebook games on his profile I will make sure it is child friendly. I checked his messages and found this. I called my parents and told them I am kicking him out, I told everyone. The more people I tell the more empowered I feel. The more I know that I can do this and stick to my guns. The hard part was not letting the kids know what was happening. I got teary eyed, but I did not cry. I managed to get them focused on their homework and the bedtime routine. I am so glad that they have school tomorrow. If this had happened yesterday I don; t know how I would have have handled today. Of course they day wasn't a very good one before this discovery. It is Memorial Day and every year he carries the flag for the Elk Lodge. Every year my children ride on the float and get to be in the parade. This is a highlight for my children and something they look forward to. They were supposed to be there at 10 am. I got a call from my mom at 9: 55 to tell us to bring car seats. (Which we always do because they are in our car and would be used by the kids on the drive to the lodge.) I came downstairs and he is in the shower. The kids are getting their water and are so excited. He then tells me that he doesn't want to go and I should take them. The Elks are depending on him to carry the flag. Our children are depending on him so they can be in the parade and five minutes before they are supposed to be there he tries to get out of it. Somehow without any real yelling I managed to convince him to take the kids. Of course he called me his new pet name before he left. I am Lazy Fat Ass, isn't that a wonderful thing for a man to call call his wife in front of his children? He did call me back and tried to deny it. He thought I would believe that it was just a "joke" between them and nothing really happened. I have heard that before and because I wanted to try to save this marriage I let it go. First when I was working full time, I caught him writing love letters to another woman online. His excise was they would never meet and it was a game to him. Then I had a facebook friend bust him when he emailed a reply to one of her friends looking for a good time. I am a 42 year old white male in an unhappy marriage too. In the pic i am wearing the gray shirt that says New York. Im 6 feet tall 175 pounds brown hair green eyes. I would love to hook up. We can get a room somewhere cause I cant host either. If interested please reply by e - mail or text me at (his cell phone number) and write BBW in message so I know who you are. I am calling a lawyer in the morning and am considering a restraining order or order of protection to make sure he stays away. I told him to stay with his girlfriend he wasn't sleeping here any more. He hung up the phone after a long pause, no more denials. His mother owns the house we live in, |
15 | 1 | I know I will have to eventually move out, but I also know that she will give me a chance to find a another place and I won't have to rush. An uncontested divorce can be finalized in 60 days. Hopefully I can be done with this by the fall and can be settled before school starts. I hate that I have to uproot my children because he was selfish. The only good thing is that because of all the horrible things he has done to me in the last few years, all the nasty things he has done to me and said to me, all the hitting and spitting I am prepared mentally for this. I have known it was over for a while this just finalized it for me. The final straw and I am done. I do not like being warm or hot. Even in the winter I am known for opening the windows, lowering the thermostat and using fans. Last year we moved from a house with central air (I miss central air!) to a house with just windows we could open. Then our cats discovered that they could rip our screens to get outside. To keep mosquitos and other assorted insects out those windows stayed closed. I was miserable. I bought window air conditioners. Mommy was much happier and cooler. Of course Daddy didn't want them, he didn't want to spend the money and many fights happened about the temperature and how miserable I was. My brother had to help me assemble them and install them, my husband would not. They made the summer bearable. He enjoyed their comfort and even grudgingly took them out of the windows when the autumn air consistently was cool. There was yelling and cursing and arguing but it got done. Winter came and went and in less than a month we went from needing the heat on to uncomfortable warmth. I wanted my air conditioned installed in the bedroom. I had two fans running at night and still I was too warm. It was time and I asked him for help. My husband typically responds to me asking for help with a look of disgust on his face. He waits a moment and will them loudly ask why can't I do it. The battle begins Surprisingly he agreed to put the air conditioner in with little complaint. But it turned into an ordeal. He almost dropped it out the window and had trouble figuring out how it would sit in the window without falling. Any help I offered was loudly refused and I regretted that I even asked. That was two weeks ago. He said after my air conditioned was installed he would get the others in later because he had to go to work. I understood, installing air conditioners is not a good excuse for being late to work. A day went by and then a few and then a week. I occasionally would ask when he would install them. He never would give a definite answer. Summer is here, well "The Official Start" of summer is this weekend. The days are warmer and the nights are sticky. My son sleeps with a fan on his bed running at full speed and a ceiling fan above his bed whirling as fast as it can. My daughter sleeps in my bed so she can be comfortable at night. The air conditioners sit in her closet not getting any closer to the windows. He and I have argued about them, if I question his methods he explodes with anger. Today he screamed at me that I was a nag. I keep asking him to put them in and he is tired of it. I have been asking a lot lately, however if he had put them in when he said he would two weeks ago I would not be nagging him today. I would have been comfortable in the living room and he could have watched his hockey YouTube videos in peace. Instead he refused to put them in. He told me to call my brother to put them in and he stormed out of the house. At least I managed to get him to say goodnight to the kids. I have had it. I dragged them out of the closet and managed to slide them down the stairs. My son held the curtains so I could put them in the windows. He helped me move the couch so I could put one in the window in our living room. Once again my husband has pushed me away. He refuses to do anything I ask him because I am a nag. Even a simple conversation with him is torture. I am miserable and I know he is too. The difference is that he resists any of my efforts to improve our marriage. He also believes that I am the cause of all of our problems. I cause all the arguments and I am the one who causes all the things that go wrong. He doesn't do any of it in his mind. Well tonight I got something done without him that I didn't think I could do. He tells me that I won't make it on my own. He tells me that I am worthless and can't do anything right. He is wrong. I got two air conditioners in tonight without his help. It would be nice to have someone around to help, but if I think about it his help comes with heartache and stress. I get depressed and in the past |
15 | 2 | I have withdrawn from the world. I won't let him put me down anymore. I don't need him, I am capable and I will be able to make it without him. I grew up loving trains. From my bedroom as I was falling asleep at night I could hear them running and sounding their horn. We lived near active tracks and anytime we saw a train we stopped what we were doing. Our eyes would be glued on the moving cars and when the caboose was finally in sight we would wave to the conductor and often be rewarded with a smile and wave from him in return. My father build amusement park rides and he did all the sheet metal work on the train at a local amusement park. How proud I was when I rode that train every summer knowing that my father built it. That train is still there. My children ride it today and know that grandpa built it. They tell their friends and like me are full of pride when they ride it. Trains and children go together like peanut butter and jelly. I had a friend when I was in elementary school who literally had trains running behind her house. The fence that separated her backyard from the tracks had a gate that allowed us access to those tracks. All spring and summer long we would roam those tracks and search for tadpoles and frogs. We would find chunks of coal that fell from overloaded cars and we would dodge trains as they came rolling by. We knew that trains were dangerous but still we were drawn to those tracks. Once I think we narrowly avoided tragedy. My friend and I ventured further down the tracks than we normally did. There was a trestle not far down the tracks. We had to cross a busy street to get there which brought us into the city. It was off limits to us, so of course we had to go there. Once we were there two teenagers approached us. At least I thought they were teenagers. They told us that they were police officers and we were trespassing (which of course we were). They insisted that we go with them. We were young but we knew this was fishy, we asked to see ID and they refused. But they were bigger than us and we ended up going with them. Not into a car, but we walked. We left the tracks and started towards another road. My friend and I were scared and didn't know what to do. Finally we saw our chance and made a break for it. We ran and they chased us. We saw a gas station nearby and ran into it and hid. I don't know who long it was until we felt safe enough to leave. To this day I don't know what would have happened if we didn't get away. Since then that stretch of tracks has been retired. Many of the local tracks no longer are active. Still some tracks do have trains rolling along them and now that I am a parent I see those tracks very different from when I was a child. Since I have become a parent we have also lived in close proximity to active train tracks. I remember how I was drawn to train tracks as a child and I remember my close call. It terrifies me. Last week a teenager in a neighboring town ran under barriers, a train was coming and the barriers were down. He was hit by two trains and died. Just a few days later a ten year old was seen crawling away from the tracks. His friend was running ahead screaming for help. The little boy had been run over by a train and both his legs were severed. Just thinking about it brings tears to my eyes. When we moved into this a = city I knew we lived near train tracks, but they were not within sight of our house. To get there you had to go down our street and over to a main road, then cross that busy road and go a bit further down. When they children go to the middle school and high school they would have to cross those tracks. But I still had time to instill a respect of trains and the danger of playing on the train tracks. Then last year we moved. We moved down the street and closer to the tracks. They are louder and If we walk to the corner are visible. Since then I have taken every opportunity to talk to both my children about why they need to stay away from the tracks. I still enjoy watching them. We do pull over and watch the trains if we are stopped at the tracks. Times have changed though. There are no longer cabooses with a happy conductor waving at us as the train goes by. I hear the loud horn at night and no longer does it lull me to sleep. We are so close that the horn is loud and now fills me with dread. I worry about my children and the tracks. All I can think about now is tragedy so I talk to my children and hope and pray that they will make better decisions than I did and stay away from the irresistible draw of the tracks. My meds are running low, you would think I could remember to call the pharmacy to get a refill. If I run out then bad things happen. I hate taking my meds, but |
15 | 3 | I hate not taking them more. I feel overwelmed and my head is mushy. Not literly, that would be interesting though. I am picturing a head with the consistancy of Play - Dough. I guess fuzzy is a better way to describe it. Any sensory input could be the one that sets me off. When you have a child on the autism spectrum and daughter who is a diva and husband that is very unpleasant on his good days this is not a good combination. Today my husband went out to get the kids lunch, but I had to go back out to get it done correctly. The best thing about it was that I was trying to relax a bit and was upstairs. There are no windows into the front or backyard upstairs. If the children are playing outside and only one parent is home it is important that they are not upstairs. Plus when upstairs, because there is a door at the bottom of the stairs a parent is not in a good position to supervise children when they are downstairs. Oddly enough if the kids are in the basement, because the placement of the heating ducts is ideal it is very easy to listen in on the two of them playing. It is like being a spy. I did manage to hear the car turn on and pull away. At least one window overlooks the driveway. One thing that gets me so mad is when he leaves when I am upstairs or even worse asleep. The kids are home playing and doing what kids do and I have no idea that he is gone. I think he is watching the kids and luckily nothing bad has happened while he has been gone. When I ask him to tell me that he is leaving, he gets mad and swears at me (often in front of the kids). I have to take a deep breath and not snap as he yells at me. I really need to get that refill. I don't like taking my meds because if I get mad he asks if I took my meds. They are for depression, they are not to make me a mindless yes mommy. I still have my full range of emotions. The meds I take keep me from snapping. They keep me sane, but I still will get mad if you tell me putting a garden in the back yard is stupid and you won't buy the soil or do anything to help me get it. My seedlings have been growing for almost six weeks in the kitchen and need to be planted in real soil soon. One of the plants has already produced a couple beans., the zucchini is flowering and he won't help me get the soil, he won't ask anyone to hep us get the soil, and he keeps telling me that I am a horrible gardener and I shouldn't even bother. What is the pharmacy's phone number? The air conditioners are still not in downstairs. He had a hard time putting the one in upstairs and has decided that it will be easier to take the air conditioners outside and have me open the window from the inside while he lifts them up to his shoulder level and slides them into the window from the outside. Did I mention he would have to wade through the bushes in the yard to get to the windows. When I try to point out to him that there might be an easier way (maybe putting them in from the inside?) he snaps and again swears and calls me horrible names. Now I need the refill number, ah there it is! So is my depression something I have always had and recently identified or is it partially from before but more because I am in a marriage from hell? I ordered my refill and I am off to pick it up. One more month of Cymbalta and one more month of sanity. It was almost two years ago that I made the decision to return to school. I wanted to be able to get a better job so that if I left this pitiful excuse for a marriage I could support myself and my children. Since then I found a good program and got accepted. I walked into my first class and found myself doing something I loved. Teaching could be in my blood. My mother is a teacher and for a while so was my father. I have an aunt who was a teacher and an uncle who taught and was a principal. When I worked in the planetarium field it was the teaching of astronomy that I loved. The look on children's face when they got it was the best reward. Now I have my degree, I walked across that stage and got my scroll (my diploma comes in the mail in 6 - 8 weeks). I have student taught and I am ready to go. I have supplies that have been passed down to me from teachers I have known over the years. However I don't have a job. I have applied, I have searched and I have networked. My fingerprints have been taken and the police and the state have reviewed my background. I am a teacher, but I have no class. My children are so proud of me. I am having a party to celebrate my achievement. Guest have offered to bring food, my daughter helped me pick out some decorations. My husband has done nothing but complain. How are |
15 | 4 | we going to pay for it? That is all he cares about. I am not serving lobster or anything that is going to break us. I am keeping it low key, I know we don't have a lot of money or really any to spare. But I did it, I graduated, I passed all my state mandated exams, I got excellent grades, I wrote my papers and I taught many classes of wonderful children. I made it and I want to celebrate. Lately my son has been having more cases of anxiety. The attacks are suddens and without warning. The other day it was a footlong large pipe cleaner that caused his anxiety. How can something so harmless scare him so much? It was bedtime and both my husband and I were home. I had read him his bedtime story. No matter how much my husband tries to get me to stop reading to him at bedtime I will not. It is a special time for us and it helps him know that reading is for pleasure. Of course he challenged me and I didn't back down. Bedtime stories are too important. Our son had just gone into his room for the night and the next thing we knew he was screaming. I have heard him pretend to be scared, I have heard him scream just to get our attention and I have heard him scream from terror. This was the later. We both reacted quickly and tried to find out what was wrong. The look on our sons face was all I needed to see to know he was scared. He was screaming and would not calm down. I tried to comfort him to find out how I could help. My husband however was mad. He didn't seem to want to know why our son was scared. He just wanted him to stop. He is like that with me too. he doesn't care why I am upset, or why I am feeling like I am. He just wants me to stop. Sadly he has said this to my face. I hugged our son tight and got down to his level. I looked him in the eye and helped him calm down. Only when he is calm do I get an idea of what is causing the terror. He sees something that he calls a monster under his bed. Of course now daddy is more upset. There are no such things as monsters. He is eight years old and should know this. He is being ridiculous and just needs to "be a man" and go to bed. When I was a child I was convinced there were snakes in my room and I remember running downstairs so scared. My parents listened and my father would go upstairs and remove the trespassing snake. They don't remember doing this, but it is something that is unforgettable to me. Today I know that there was no snake on my pillow. I know my dad didn't have it in his hand and I know he didn't put it outside. But my parents made me feel safe and if they had to get the "snake" out of my room and actually go through the motions of taking it out of the house. Our son is still so afraid, he won't go into his room and finally I think I understand what he is saying enough to help him. I look where my screaming son is pointing and I do see something there. It is a Fuzzoodle pipe cleaner that I had bought the kids. It is something he has played with many times and something that I am sure he put there. But for some reason tonight it is the cause of his anxiety. Like my father I went into his room and removed the offending object. My son calms down and after some snuggles is ready for bed. The crisis is over. Then this weekend insects became the stressor for him. Again this was at bedtime and both my husband and I were home. It was after our normal bedtime routine and was sudden. He went into the kitchen to fill up his water bottle. Then he just ran screaming out of the kitchen in terror. He saw a flying spider. Just the day before he had found a spider in his room. Now that I recall that incident it also was at bedtime, but it was just me home that night. He had no fear during that incident. We also have a pet tarantula and he is not afraid of Hannah at all. It was a cranefly and they are scary looking, I can see why he called it a flying spider. They are common this time of the year and not unfamiliar to him. However on this night he was terrified of it. We tracked it down and removed it. Still he was scared. What if there was another one? He was sure it would bite him and he was unconsolable. Finally I redirected his attention. I noticed that somehow even after he had taken a bath and washed his hair he still had some grit in it. Mommy idea of the night popped into my head nad I suggested he take a bath and re wash his hair. I instructed him to do two shampoos and to make sure he really massages the shampoo into his scalp. Bingo, he was no longer thinking of the scary flying spider and into the tub he went. The crisis had |
15 | 5 | ended. Now his daddy during this episode was mad, he called our son a cry baby and just wanted him to stop making noise. He was lying down on the couch and didn't budge at all to try to calm our terrified son down. There were extra snuggles for my son that night after the bath, I wanted him to feel safe and secure. As for daddy he dozed off while the bath did its magic and didn't bother us again that night. Two fears in the span of a week. Two moments of terror for my son. Luckily there were also two calming events as well. Was it the asperger's? I think maybe it was. Luckily I was there for both events. I worry that I won't be there for the next one and I wonder how my spouse would handle it when it is just the two of them. I wish that didn't scare me. I shouldn't have to worry about how a daddy interacts with his son, but I do. A few months ago I bought some decorations for the kitchen, I decided on a kitchen witch theme, I was worried that my husband would have a problem with them because he is so anti - witch and anti - pagan. I tenativly hung one up on the wall and there were no protest from him so I added the other decorations. I thought maybe finally he was going to let me be me and not fight with my religion anymore. Since then I have added a few other items and a couple aprons. I loved working in the kitchen with some of my touches in it. The paint and other decor were still in the motif of the past owners. Before I added these decorations I felt like a guest in someone else's kitchen. This weekend I walked into the kitchen and my decor was missing. I found it on a shelf almost hidden and put the items back where they belonged. Then I made the mistake of asking him why they were moved. He replied that it wasn't Halloween and they looked stupid so he took them down. I explained they were the decor I picked for the kitchen. He has always said that I had carte blance to decorate our home. Unfortunetly he complains about all the decorating I do. There was no more argument and I thought that maybe I had won this battle. I was wrong. Today I went to pick up my sons perscription. The first pharmacy coudln't fill it, they were out of that medication. I took the time to find out that information and told him that I was going. My husband wanted to be the one to run the errand and he made a point of letting me know that before I left. He had to tell me that I was a useless house keeper so I can't do anything right so he should pick up the meds so he knows it will be done right. I didn't take the bait and just left. My son came with me and we had a very nice time together. I came home and walked into the dining room to see all my spring / Easter deorations gone. I wanted to put them away together into a bin so I could use them again next year. Since I didn't have a bin I had saved some money from last week and was going to buy the bin on Friday when he got paid. Not once has he expressed annoyance that they were still up. Because they were also spring decorations I didn't think they were too out of place. But they were all gone, he then told me that he had thrown most of them away when I asked him where he put them. I was so mad. There was nothing wrong with them. I had to pick them out of the garbage. Of course then he has to tell me I am stupid for going through the garbage. I retrieve them and packed them away in a plastic bag. Now I have to hide them so he doesn't think they are garbage again. I went upstairs. It is my safe place usually. More often than not he will stay downstairs if I am upstairs. We can exist like this for a while without much interaction. The house is more peaceful and I am less stressed. However he did come up and announced he was leaving for work. Finally, I can have some peace. I waited until a few minutes had passed and I came downstairs to have my dinner. He was still here and on the computer. So into the kitchen I go and my kitchen witch decorations are gone again. I had to look for them a little harder this time. He just doesn't have any respect for me or my things and I know it is only going to get worse. This time he also moved my Tarot recipe cards. Each card has a recipe on them and honestly if recipe cards don't belong in the kitchen where do they belong? I know he will keep taking them down, I just hope he doesn't get destructive with them or throw them away like he did with my Easter decorations. I am so tired of his negative energy and I hope I can find a place to move to soon. So far I have not found a place that would be a good fit for me and the children. Until then |
15 | 6 | I have to listen to his mouth and feel his attitude. I don't think the decoration battle is over. I will have to keep a close eye on things that mean a lot to me. This was my eight Mother's Day, okay ninth I celebrated Mother's Day when I was pregnant with my son. I still remember that moment when I first saw him. It felt like hours before I was allowed to hold him. I was shaking so much after he was delivered. It just wasn't safe for a few minutes. My first clear memory of him after he was born was when my husband was standing next to me holding him and he heard my voice. He deliberately turned his head and looked right at me. I never expected a newborn to be so focused and be able to control his movements like like so soon after he was born. Almost nine years later and he still amazes me. Tonight as I was falling asleep I heard a noise downstairs. It is me and two children alone in the house. Boom, boom, boom!!! I slowly walked downstairs and the light is on in the kitchen. I know I turned it off and I sheepishly call out "Who is in the kitchen?" I was hoping to hear my husbands voice, maybe he got home from work early. Nope. I hear my son answer "It's me!" He was thirsty and wanted to fill up his water bottle. He couldn't disconnect our portable dishwasher. Poor kiddo! All he wanted was a simple glass of water and was so upset that he couldn't get it. Mommy saved the day, or rather the night. I disconnected the dishwasher and filled up his water bottle. I even gave him ice. That was entertaining. The ice wouldn't come out of the tray and I really put some muscle into it. BOOM! Crack! Ping! Ice popped up into the air, flipped and bounced. We both started laughing hysterically and ended up on the floor. Comical relief often comes when you least expect it. We have two cats, and have had them since they were born. We owned the mama cat and never got her spayed. She would not leave the house, if we opened the door and pushed her out she would find a way to grab onto the door and stay inside. It just never occured to us that a male cat would break into our house. Of course that is what happened, twice in two days. Of course she was in heat at the time. She was a tiny cat and was getting bigger. Then she passed the due date, a week went by and still no kittens. I could still feel them moving but was worried so I called the vet. The wanted to see her ASAP and so I bundled her up and off we went. She had to have a c - section. I never even thought of c - sections for cats. The kittens were so adorable, but Boomerang wanted nothing to do with them. So I had to feed them with a bottle. I had to play mama cat. Mama cats have a hard job. Today those kittens are all grown up, my children have each claimed one and Boomerang went to another home. It was a decision I fought for the longest time and it was a decision my husband forced me to make. I regret it and miss my cat. Boomerang was mine and she was a wonderful pet and eventually became a wonderful Mommy. These cats have somehow become indoor / outdoor cats. I tried to keep them indoors. But they were stubborn and now I have many torn screens because they were so determined to get outside. I really don't think they know that they are cats. They come when I call them, which is comical when I call them in at night. If they are not waiting by the door they come running. They even love to have their bellies rubbed. We have a portable dishwasher, to use it there is an attachment that is screwed onto the kitchen faucet. We put it on the faucet when we moved in and I haven't really thought of it since. Lately when I have hooked up the dishwasher at night (I only run it at night because to run it has to move into the center of the kitchen next to the sink and the kitchen is really useless until it finishes.) it has been leaking from the faucet connection. I dreaded mentioning this to my husband, he didn't want the dishwasher and anytime we have a problem with something he doesn't like he has to throw into my face that I insisted on it and he didn't want it. I have been staying awake while it runs and disconnecting it so water doesn't run all night. It was a pain but it worked. Tonight it was worse. I was sprayed when I turned the faucet on. No mater how I connected it water sprayed all over the place. How was I going to tell him about this? Could it be fixed? Then it dawned on me to check the screw on adapter that is connected to the faucet. Bingo! It was so lose that I think it might have almost been ready to fall off the faucet. I tightened it up and the leaking stopped |
15 | 7 | . Why didn't I think of that before? My son is obsessed with poker chips. Maybe it is because he has asperger's, obsessions are an indicator of asperger's. Over the years I have bought him many, many poker chips. You would think we poker chips all over, but they never seem to last. I wonder what he does to them over time. Eventually they start to disappear and he needs more. He plays with them, he takes baths with them, he carries them in his pockets when he goes places. I have gone to toy stores with him and instead of picking a toy he will want me to buy him poker chips. He will save him own money to buy poker chips. I often wonder what people might think when they find out that he owns his own poker chips. He also is very territorial with them. I find them all over the house and I confess that some have been sacrificed while I am cleaning. In the last six or seven years I have no idea how many poker chips we have bought but I don't think I am exaggerating when I say that it is in the thousands and not hundreds. I am sure in the years to come at least an equal amount if not more will be purchased for him. I went to a Mother's Day brunch with my parents, grandma and brother's family today. It could have gone better. They keep trying to get me to back to church. They know I am a Pagan. I have been pretty clear about it. I think they would accept me being a lesbian better if that were true. They get so hurt when I tell them that I don't go to church. I suppose I could lie to them and tell them that I do, but Why come out of the broom closet if you are just going to back into it again? They wanted me to go to church today, But I didn't. It makes me uncomfortable. I will go if I need to, like if I am invited to a wedding or if there is a funeral. I am an adult now and if I don't want to go to church then I am not going to. I did go to brunch with them, even though I didn't want to. We all are members of the BPO of Elks. Yes I am an Elk. One of the lodges near us has a Mother's Day brunch. It used to be pay what you can and the food was pay what you can quality. Now there is a set fee for it, but the food still is pay what you can quality. My parents are loyal and they always want to go to this brunch. Some years I cut them off at the pass and invite them elsewhere before they can bring up the brunch. This year they asked first, so I accepted. At least I get to spend time with the family. It almost makes up for the lousy food. The menu was luke warm french toast, cold hashbrowns, scary looking corned beef hash, rubbery sausage, crumbly eggs, canned metal tasting fruit salad, bitter orange juice and warm cranberry juice. But my mom was happy, she got to go to the brunch she wanted and we supported one of the local Elk lodges. Overall it was a nice Mother's Day. My children spoiled me, they even let me take a midday nap. My husband even gave me space so we didn't have any huge arguments. It was a bit random, but somedays are just like that. Sometimes I just have to laugh and wonder. Like tonight, I walked into our bathroom and there on the wall was a lego base. The kind that is a base for dreams made of Legos. On another wall of course in another base. I never would have thought of putting these items on a wall. Then I wonder why? I don't think I want to know. The science geek in me knows why they are stuck to the wall. The Mom in me just shakes her head and smiles. Of course my son would stick legos to the bathroom wall. I had bought them for my son this past Christmas thinking he would use them with his Legos. Not once have I seen him use them this way. I love that he comes up with new ways to use the bases. I don't think I have ever seen him use them the "right" way. To him this is the right way. I wonder what the dialog inside of his head sounds like or looks like? His world is a wonderful place sometimes. I love to try seeing the world through his eyes. Earlier today we went on a small journey. I was picking up some worms to start my worm bin up again. You know things any mom would do. He wanted to come wit me which is unusual. Usually he wants to stay home and play. He had an ulterior motive he wanted to stop at the store. Moms take what they can so I brought him along. I call it a journey because that is what it became. We started on the highway and ran into a traffic jam. Another accident up ahead so I took the exit. I knew how to get to our destination following secondary roads I |
15 | 8 | just was hoping to get there faster. We were chatting about this and that and we stopped at a red light on a bridge. Off to the side was a creek. Lately we have had a lot of rain and the water was high. We could hear the churning and rushing of the water. He noticed a dam and was very interested in it. So on the way back I said we would stop in the park and watch the waterfall. I wish I had brought my camera. I can only wonder what the photos would have looked like. The impromptu stop in the park turned into a magnificent journey for both of us. For me I saw the park through a child's eyes. For him it was a place of wonderment and excitement. On the way back I turned off the main road to go to the park. My thought was we would drive by the park and see the waterfall from the window. He was looking out the window and was excited to see a waterfall in the middle of a city. The idea of a waterfall right next to so much hustle and bustle was almost unbelievable. But we had been to this park before so somewhere in his thoughts he knew it was because he had experienced it all before. I could almost feel the anticipation. We were driving by and, NO!!!! I had forgotten there were barriers blocking the view. Most likely to keep drive - by accidents from happening. The view would easily turn a drivers head and cause many fender benders. Disappointment now, it was audible and crushing. He had his heart on seeing the waterfall and now I had to make sure he did. When I was married we had our wedding photos taken at this park, and we have been there as a family since. I knew there was a parking lot. Ack, I couldn't find it. The park is small, it is a surprise to me that I can't find the lot. Where could it be. This dialog was in my head and it felt like so much time was passing. Then I saw it, and we pulled in. The sky was grey and was leaking infrequent drips. The wind was picking up and I had neglected to bring my coat. I was wrongly thinking that we would walk to the bridge and look at the waterfall and then back into the car. We had to get home so Daddy could go to work. We walked to the road and crossed. He had a moment of panic when a distant car turned onto the road. He gripped my hand as I encouraged him to cross. The car was still very far away and would not even get to the bridge by the time that we crossed. As we walk closer to the waterfall I draw his attention to the sensations all around us. "What do you hear?" I ask and he says he hears the water rushing which was the primary sound. "What else?" He hears the traffic and he hears the wind. Then I point out the light sound of birds singing happily all around us. I see his face light up as he tunes into the music they are producing and his smile is infectious. We come up to the bridge and through the trees he can almost see our goal. There is a path next to him an he breaks away from me almost running into the park. I still was in the mindset that we would see the waterfall and then back to the car. That was unbeknownst to me this was no longer an option. I herded him back to the bridge and we start crossing it. He can now see the rushing bubbling roaring brown water. This is not the gentle flowing creek he has encountered in the past. He does recall wading in the creek a few years ago. The water that day was slow moving and welcoming on a hot day. We caught bugs and butterflies and explored the trails. He is holding onto my hand with a death grip, He worries that I will drop the car keys into the churning torrents just inches away from us. The water is so high that a secondary waterfall, normally visible at the foot of the bridge is just a dip in the chaos of water next to us. His eyes are glued onto the sight. This is the closest he has ever been to such a temper tantrum of nature. He see the waterfall set back into the park and is amazed. This is now a determination of his. He will get up close to that waterfall. I still think we are going back to the car. I don't know how he did it, maybe it was the joy on his face, but we crossed that bridge and turned left into the park. I spot two ducks and we get closer. It is a male and female mallard. They are perched next to a quiet pool of water. A complete contrast to the churning mess behind us. The male notices us coming closer and he stands up and is ready to go all male duck on us if he has too. The female has her beak tucked into her wing and she isn't budging. Though she does open one eye and watches us. We didn't get any closer and they didn't move we just watched each other and then my son |
15 | 9 | and I moved along. He is determined to get to that waterfall. Now we are on the other bank of the creek. It almost seems wrong to call it a creek though. When I picture a creek I see a calm narrow shallow and peaceful ribbon of water surrounded by green grass and flowers. I know, very "Little House on the Prairie" sounding. We get closer. His hand again is not letting go of my hand no matter what. I know the water scares him. Heck it scares me. He is facing a fear and not letting it win. He wants to get to that waterfall and he is not going to let his insecurity get the better of him. We get to the waterfall, he gets right up next to it. I tell him about having our wedding photos taken there. How most of the time is a gentle and beautiful waterfall. We talked about how my parents brought me to this park as a child and how we would feed the ducks. He spots the sign saying "Please Don't Feed the Wildlife" and is disappointed that we can't feed those ducks that we spotted earlier. I managed to keep him from seeing the bread someone else had left behind so he doesn't even try. Now I think we are going back to the car. We got to the waterfall and... Oh no he sees the steps to go to the top of the waterfall. If I let him we would stay there until bedtime. He is excited, there is so much to do here. Paths that twist and turn around calm peaceful ponds. Rocks are conveniently placed so he can walk on the like a bridge. He just wants to play. I distract him away from the steps and back to the road. Then he spots something. I still don't know what but he is focused on it and is off. He finds a dry path around a pond and starts to go behind a wall of shale. I have never gone this way in the park. I thought it was inaccessible and maybe it was. Maybe a pond has shifted or maybe the path the water took changed. I have to follow him, in my crocs, trying to not fall, tetter tottering and somehome managing to stay dry. There is another waterfall! Wow! we are at the base of an old mill and it is a nook full of nature. The small waterfall is peaceful and calm. It is a complete contrast to the one he was so focused on mere moments ago. Shale is jutting out around us and in places is covered with moss. It is quiet and still in this place. Just above us and only a few yards away is a major road filled with traffic, but we are not aware of it here. We could have stayed there for hours. It was magical, but we had to get home. Daddy needs to go to work. I dread having to tell him that we have to leave and I wonder how do I get him to leave without a battle. It turns out that he had already decided to move on. He had turned around and saw a bridge. He looks at me and says "I wonder what this looks like from that bridge. So off he went. I slowly followed, I still wanted to stay dry. We get to the bridge and it is a breathtaking site, the small waterfall in the distance is what feeds these smaller ponds. I am sure I had seen it before but never thought to try to get to it. I told him we had to go and he was disappointed but I promised we would come back. I let him take a" short cut "back to me. I cringed when he walked on the rocks placed as stepping stones in the ponds. He was going to fall in the water, I was so sure of it, I would have. Only his pant cuffs got wet though. Watching him explore this oasis of nature in the middle of urban development was worth the stop and worth coming back for. We crossed the street and looked at the creek flowing away from the falls. We saw a groundhog and discovered that the secondary creek also continued on this side of the road. Then I saw it. A Great Blue Heron was wading in the turmoil beneath us. The brown churning waters did not seem to bother it at all. When my son saw it his eyes opened up wide. He had never seen bird this large in the wild before. He talked about the long neck of the bird and wondered how long the legs were. This bird was tall and sleek. It was beautiful and we watched it in silence as it walked around at the bank of the creek. We got baCk to the car passing the groundhog again. Wow! Groundhogs can move very fast. We heard a male Black Capped Chickadee calling for a mate and we headed back home. Back to my normal, he roller skated in the basement, put chalk dust in his hair and took his bath. It was after the bath that my cat called to me from the bathtub. He begged me to let him drink out of the bathtub faucet. I turned the faucet on ever so slowly and saw the legos on the wall. Back to reality |
15 | 10 | I guess. Last night one thing was on the minds of my family, breakfast! My son is in the third grade and the state English language Arts exam starts in the morning. His teacher has been doing a fantastic job getting his class ready for the exam. My son is as prepared as he can be. His handwriting may be terrible but when they do decifer his answers they will see that he knows his stuff. The school has sent home letters to parents, and talked to the student about how to be mentaly and physically ready for this exam. Practice has been completed in the classroom. The students have been told to get a good night sleep and to fuel their bodies in the morning. The school is even giving the whole third grade class free breakfast. My son is takig this make sure you have a good breakfast to heart. He talked his father into bringing home a breakfast sandwich, he made me look up the menu for breakfast at the school so he knows what he is going to eat there. Then he did this. It is pretty late at night, usually my husband calls home at this time if he wants me to check the score of a hockey game or look up some silly trivia on line. I looked at the caller id and it was my brother. Still I didn't expect what happened next. He sounded upset and said he was going to put my life in perspective. I could tell he was holding back tears. The next words out of his mouth were that his house was on fire. I instantly lost the grin on my face and asked if he was okay. Was his family okay? What happened? How could this happen? I wanted to rush out there to be with him and I even reached out to a neighbor that I am friends with. I asked if she could sit in my house so my kids wouldn't be alone. I explained that my brother 'house was on fire and I wanted to be there to help comfort him. I wanted to hug him I wanted to do something. She was about to go to bed and didn't want to. Okay, so I was not able to get to him. I can't imagine how he was feeling. I was heartbroken and it wasn't even my house. I do have ties to it. It was my Nana's house. My father grew up in that house. It has been a part of the family for four generations now. It is a part of our history, but it is my brother's home. Later he called me back, the house is still standing. The interior sounds like it just suffered from smoke damage. It could have been much worse. They are staying with neighbors and the boys will be going to school in the morning. They are going to try to get back to a normal day. My brother is so shaken, I can't help but worry about him. Now when the phone first rang I assumed my son was asleep. He wasn't. He heard my voice change and knew something was wrong. He came out of his room and I could see that he was worried. He is like me, he takes a worry into his heart and holds it there. It becomes part of him. I explained that his Uncle's house was on fire but everyone was okay. A house is just stuff, what is important is his Aunt, Uncle and cousins are safe. He wanted to know where they were going to sleep, and even thought I invited them to our house, I did't know. He went back in his room and came back out with a blanket. He said this was for them so they could have a blanket to keep them warm. He then went back in his room and brought out three more blankets. One for each of them. I was so proud of my son. He was willing to give up his blankets to help another family. It took me a long time to get him focused on sleep again and the exam that he is taking in the morning. After he finally went to sleep knowing that his relatives were safe and warm I made those blueberry muffins for him with blueberry glaze. So much had changed since I started making them, things can change so quickly. The big Neurologist appointment was today. I was all prepared for it. I had the printout of adult symptoms of dyspraxia and all the underlines of symptoms I had. I had the report from my third grade evaluation showing I had motor skill problems. I woke up early and got there in plenty of time. I had the paper work filled out and was hopeful that I would find out a reason for all my clumsiness. I had barely sat down at the office after checking in before they called me back. Once in the examination room I didn't even have enough time to flip through a magazine before the doctor came in. So far a wonderful appointment. It isn't often that I don't have a seemingly endless wait for the doctor. She asked why I was there and I told her I was curious if my clumsiness was due to dyspraxia. She looked confused and asked me (the patient) what was dyspraxia. I could see the expression on her face and |
15 | 11 | it was not one that filled me with confidence. So I handed her the sheets I had printed out about dyspraxia and she barely glanced at it. She never even unfolded it all the way or looked at the second sheet before she handed it back to me. I tried to show her my third grade evaluation and she didn't even reach for it. I did read it to her though. She asked me what my concerns were and when I looked at the paper that I had underlined she asked me not to look at the sheet that I had brought with me with the notes I had written on it and things I had underlined that applied to me. I drew a blank. I couldn't remember most of them, which oddly enough is a symptom. She watched me walk and did agree that I have an abnormal gait. She it is confirmed that I walk funny and an probably clumsy because of it. She said I didn't have dyspraxia (remember she didn't know what it was at the beginning of the appointment and didn't read the documents I brought with me that explained what it was) because people with dyspraxia (even though she doesn't know what dyspraxia is) can't do simple tasks (which as far as I know is NOT a symptom or result of dyspraxia). She is scheduling me for a MRI because I have a lot of headaches and have an abnormal gait. It is scheduled for Friday and I am taking advantage of sedation for it. I get uncomfortable watching people have their heads in enclosed spaces and the idea of having my head enclosed in a noisy MRI machine is something that makes me very uncomfortable and fills me with dread. I have a follow up at the end of June and I think I am going to find a doctor that knows what dyspraxia is. Only when someone who knows what dyspraxia is tells me that I don't have it will I believe them. So as it stands it is official, I walk funny and have all my life. Osama Bin Laden is dead. Is it a relief? I heard the news via facebook. A major event ten years coming and it was all over facebook before CNN reported it. It was on facebook before Yahoo! carried it on their webpage. It was on facebook an hour before the President announced it. It was on facebook even before a Google search verified it. How the internet has changed in the past decade. I know I was online in 2001 but I was not connected to the world like I am now on facebook. So much has changed just in this short time. We know of world events almost as soon as they happen. Then I think of me and my own world of chaos and how I even share my personal thoughts and life via the internet. I announce things to strangers, family and friends that a decade ago I would have never revealed. People from all over the world have read things that I have written. Would I have believed it in 2001? Tomorrow, or rather this morning I have my appointment with a neurologist. My whole life I have felt awkward. I remember in summer camp as a child how I never could get the blue swim badge. Every year I earned the beginner red badge and I hated it. All I needed to do was dive off the edge of the pool into the water. Everyone else could do it, why couldn't I? I just couldn't get my body to do it. Cards are another thing I am uncomfortable with. I cannot shuffle them. It looks so easy, but I can't do it. These are such simple things but to me they are unobtainable. I still can't dive. To keep from falling down stairs I hug the wall and hold onto the rail. I don't step down until I feel the edge of the step with my heel. I have taught myself to do that so I don't break my ankle again by falling down the stairs. Stepping on an escalator is a nightmare. I step and pray that I will keep my balance and judge the speed correctly so I don't fall. What will the appointment be like? I am scared and nervous. Maybe I am just really clumsy and walk into walls, hit my head on the top of the opening of car doors and lose my balance while I am walking for no reason. Maybe I don't know my left from my right or mix up the greater than and less than symbols because I never really learned these concepts. But I know I will share the results of my appointment with people I will never meet. People in other countries will stumble onto this blog and make judgements about me. Maybe they will think I ask for what I get in this marriage. Maybe they understand why I am still married and are having such a hard time letting go. Maybe they will reach out to me and comment on what I write so I don't feel so alone. This is possible because our world is so small. In a depression of a key on keyboard or the movement of a mouse people all over the world know a wanted man is killed and that a stay at home mom and hopeful teacher has a doctor appointment in the morning that could change her like. Disney was right: |
15 | 12 | It's a small world after all. I am a Mommy. All my life that is what I wanted to be. I also am an elementary school teacher. At the moment I am a substitute teacher. I may not have my own classroom but I care about every one of my students like I would if I was their regular teacher. I recently left my husband. What started as a great marriage fell apart over the years into an emotional abusive relationship from him to me. The more independent I got the meaner he got. Finally among a family crisis he decided to leave the country to go to a sporting event. I had an opportunity to leave and I took it. So starts another new beginning for me. |
16 | 0 | Miss Hailey Bug of Ottawa, is having some trouble adjusting to the temporary state of not having a pack. After nearly 5 days of having 2 labs to play with, as well as her constant companion Gemi, she seems lost. It is further complicated by the Man's absence in the house. Since "the incident" as those of the house are calling it, she has been sort of avoiding her Lady (although she did sleep with her, she is not coming and demanding lover and attention). Lady was very angry with her after the incident (but since has been very loving and kind and tried to go about their lives as normally as possible). Lady realizes that she also was the one who took the other pack members away and the one who took her to get her nails cut yesterday (which didn't go very well. Perhaps given her agitated state as well as the fact that a dog in the store tried to attack her 2 times prior she shouldn't have done it, but she did get through it). Lee is being super calm and quiet. She has not pulled any of her antics. She is being rather dull. When asked Lady said "She is finally the dog of my dreams, but I don't like the cost of getting her there. Hopefully when Gemi recovers and life gets back to normal she will become herself. Or at least a happier version of this calm dog." Last night I decided for sleeping Gemi might be the most comfortable on her bed on the floor. Apparently this was too hard. She carried on. So I picked the bed up and put it on the bed. Apparently this was too soft. She carried on. So I lifted her out of the bed, kicked it on the floor and had her sleep just on the bed, apparently this was just right. We had a decent night's sleep, from 11 until Gemi had to go pee at 5: 30. After talking to the wonderfully kind vet at our clinic, Ottawa Vet Hospital, (my vet of course is on holidays), we decided to admit her for 24 - 48 hours. The main reason being the pain meds she can have at home aren't enough for her, and they can give her good drugs there. (He says like people, some dogs just respond better or worse to some meds and not to worry too much that she needs stronger drugs). He hopes once the pain is under control she will start eating and drinking on her own. She is very bruised and the air is still between the skin and muscles. This will last 10 - 14 days. As for the leg, still can't tell about the damage given the pain. However, he was hopeful that there was no lasting damage as she would retract it when he squeezed it. He said we really won't know until the pain is under control. The good things are she does not have a temperature and her gums are not too pale. Yesterday, I am not sure what happened although I was in the room, 2 of the 3 big dogs played too rough with Gemi and she is now in serious but stable condition at the local vet clinic. I don't know the technical name for the problem, but they shook her and she has shaken Gemi syndrome. The vet seemed to be leaning toward no permanent damage last night, but said we would know more this morning. So I need to wait until about 9 to know. The vet, who went to high school with my sister, had messaged her last night that when she went to check on Gemi before bed and said Gemi wagged her tail when she came in. That sounds promising, there were no wags when I dropped her off. All I asked for on this trip was that no one needed medical attention. Last year I was here the same week and I was swimming in the lake and I cut my foot open. I should have gone and got stitches but I refused. It was my right foot that was cut, so I couldn't drive myself home, my mom had to. This year it is Gemi. I think next year I won't come to the beach this week. I think it is best to describe Hailey as having an amazing love for life. That is what we all keep telling ourselves this morning as she is being very annoying. She had us up too early doing her pup things. I tried to get her to settle this morning, but she would not have any of it. After I took the four for their morning business I was delusional that I may actually get to go back to sleep. I crawled in the bed, but then Max and Tendra came with me and Lee would have none of that and started barking at them. We got up, so did my parents. This morning Lee has already had several adventures. One, as always, she knows at feeding time my parents are going to open the door to the magic cupboard that leads to the land of food. She knows if she waits out of sight they will forget about her and not sit / stay her (a skill she is getting a lot of practice doing). Then at the right moment she leaps and gets her |
16 | 1 | whole head and upper body in the bag. She knows if she plays her cards right she can do this 2 times at every meal, when they first open the cupboard to get the dishes and food and when they put them away. Scolding her has no effect, she has her food, she was a wild hunter! Because clearly we don't feed her, she was forced to help herself to some human food. My mom made the mistake of leaving her bagel on the counter within puppy reach and she left the room. In her stealth mode we didn't hear her get up and eat half of it. When my mother returned to the room, she immediately fled from the scene (she knows it is bad), leaving a few scraps that Gemi hoovered up. Eliminating counter surfing will be goal number 1. (FYI because Gemi now has a taste for bagel, she is sat beside me making puppy moaning sounds to beg for some). With a very full belly, my girl is now sleeping peacefully. She has been up for 45 minutes and I guess accomplished all her goals for before 7: 15. Can't wait to see what other adventures she gets into today! Well she did it, Hailey plunged right into the lake after the labs, and the look on her face was "What the F * * k was that!" She only plunged in once, the rest of the time she stayed on the shore playing in the waves. She seems to like that. At least my part water dog is not terrified of the water. The only casualty of yesterday was her collar, which was fraying, it really coming apart and her tag with her name broke. Both will be replaced when we get home. Overall it was a great day! The 4 dogs have had no problems all being together. They have played nicely. I have been feeding mine in the bedroom at the same time my parent's dogs get to eat. I don't think there would be food issues, there hasn't been issues with sharing bones etc, but since Max is still new, we thought we would play it safe. My father has built gates on his deck so you can sit out and the dogs can sit out. I am guessing that from the top railing to the ground is between 7 - 8 feet. Hailey got on a bench and jumped off the deck and went next door to visit the neighbours. Now we know she can't just go on the deck and we will have to be careful how we tie her so she doesn't jump off an hang herself. When visiting the neighbours (we were invited this time) Hailey figured out how to get out of her harness. I was able to grab her. Since she couldn't settle, I ended up just bringing her home and leaving her with my parents dog. Gemi stayed with us. All were fine when I came back 2 hours later (we were next door and outside, we would have heard them barking if there had been a problem). I was smart enough and got my parents to push the twin beds together, so there was a little bit of room for me. I think at any time I had 3 dogs, I think one of the labs always stayed off the bed. I had to keep the door open because Hailey was just not going to settle knowing Max and Tendra were free in the next room. They all actually did great until the sun started to rise around 5, but I was able to convince them all to stay in the bed until 7. Hailey is really struggling just to relax. We were up for nearly 2 hours before I could get her to pee this morning. She is very stressed right now (even though we just came in from a big walk). I wonder if some of it has to do with the fact that Tendra and Max are out for their walks (we all went our own ways this morning, I am sure there will be lots of group walks in the coming days). She is a much easier dog at home when I can just put her in the backyard and leave her! Hopefully it will get easier as she adjusts. She is not being bad per say, she is just busy. Last evening, someone (not me) was eating hot dogs for dinner. Someone wanted to give Hailey a big piece of bun. I asked someone not to do this, it would make her sick. Someone said "It is bread, she will be fine." But this means someone is getting a little restless. In general with our little window a / c units we have kept the house fairly cool. so after they rest from being outside, someone gets in a play mood. I have no problems with the dogs wanting to play in the house. The problem I had with it is the obsessive barking that came with it. It started Wednesday night, Lee would not stop barking. Gemi was not in the mood to play, so Lee barked and barked and barked. Thursday morning, she started it again. We live in a semi so I don't want this barking to become a habit. I was also trying to work at home and it was annoying. So I |
16 | 2 | decided I needed to get her to stop. As a behaviour analyst, I weighted my options. I didn't think using a reinforcement strategy was going to end it. (How as I going to catch her being good if all she was doing was barking). This left punishment procedure (which I don't like to use, but felt I needed to in this situation). I know my parents used a water bottle to spray their dog when she was obsessively barking. This seemed like an easy and not too punishing thing to do. I don't have a water bottle, but I could flick a little water at her face. The scene went like this. Lee immediately stops barking. She looks at the lady. She shakes her head. She walks toward the patio door and wipes her face on the white curtain. However, shortly after, she started to bark again and I reached for the water and she stopped. She has not barked since. So maybe I taught her something too! I am working brushing the dog's teeth into my new bedtime routine. Both tolerate it fairly well. They mostly want just to lick the brush, so getting them to put it in their mouths is not the issue. The issue is actually getting them to stand still, stop licking and allow me to move the brush in their mouth so I do the brushing. I am not sure if I am doing the word's best job at brushing but I am trying and hopefully as they get use to it, it will be easier. I love my little sister but for some reason I have always wanted the big brother. While my parents never fulfilled my wish, they made this dream come true for their dog Tendra. Tendra is a 2. 5 year old black lab. Yesterday, my parents became the proud new family for a 3 year old black lab named Max. (I guess it is true they love their dog more than me!) Max's story is a reminder for me not to judge other dog owners. When his first family adopted him their life circumstances were very different. However in the last 3 years things have happened and they realized they were not providing Max with the care he needed. They realized their life was not going to allow this to happen. They made the decision to find him a more appropriate home. Which I am certain they did. I can't even imagine making this choice. We had only had Hailey for short period of time (less than 2 weeks) when she bit Gemi and even with this act of violence I could not imagine having had to give her up. I will remind myself when I hear about people giving up their dogs in a responsible fashion that there may be a good reason for this, and to be thankful I am no in their shoes. We had one of those rare Ottawa weekend where the heat was stifling and oppressive. Perhaps as true Canadian girl, I prefer the cold. You can do things to stay warm when out (layers upon layers of clothes, movement), but there is not much you can do outside when it is that hot. Even being naked wouldn't cool you down! This heat made us bad dog owners. We didn't get the dogs out like we should have. Saturday, Gemi was still recovering and really cared less. Sunday, the pair had moments when they wanted to go outside. Half the time they asked, you would open the door, they would look outside, maybe take half a step and then come back in (I guess that little window air conditioner really works!). If they did go out it was for about 3 minutes (this meant I got my exercise standing up to let them out) and then come inside panting up a storm. Then they would lay on the floor for 15 minutes or so not moving, before asking to go out again. When we were finally being brave enough to take them out, a freak storm hit the city. The winds were so strong they collapsed an outdoor stage. It may have been cooler, but it was not safe to go out. I am worried about the heat and next weekend. I will be traveling 700 km with the dogs to the lake for a week. I will be alone and I am sure will need to run in to use the bathroom once or twice on the way. I will have no option but to leave them in the car. I think I will use the car started and keep the a / c running while I make the 2 minute dash to do my business! Apparently brushing her teeth is not offensive. In fact she is very good at it. So don't brush her fur or cut her nails, but brush away! What a girl! Yesterday was another day of torturing the dogs. They have had a brief discussion on who was more tortured, Lee insists it was here and Gemi doesn't feel well enough to argue. It was Gemi's teeth cleaning day. Our morning routine was more or less the same, minus the not feeding the dogs. They were both rather stressed about this and kept going to the kitchen to stand beside their bowls. Drew held Hailey, while I took Gemi out of the house to drive |
16 | 3 | her to the clinic. It wasn't as big an ordeal as it could have been. Lee's first day alone in the house in 10 months (alone meaning no Gemi). I am THRILLED to report, no damage! She did nothing bad. I can't believe it. After work Lee and I went and picked up Gemi. Lee hated being at the clinic at first, she was whining and barking and freaking out. However, she did calm down. We never left the waiting room so perhaps the place is a little less offensive now. Gemi had a lot of gingivitis around her canine teeth, and a little tarter on the rest. They decided not to pull the chipped one. As of now the root looks good and it is not loose etc. She just needed a cleaning. In a few days we are to start the teeth brushing (at least 2 - 3 times a week, or as my note from my vet said "it is a waste of time). She also has to start eating a dental food (it can be used as treats her teeth aren't that bad). But we must let her recover before we start all of this. I asked the vet if there was a reason Gemi had these problems and not the other dogs. (I think my quote was like Loki never had teeth problems and he had a lot of problems). They are on the same food, and the vet's answer was" I can't tell you. "It appears, just like people, some dogs are more prone to teeth problems. I hope with our new and exciting dental routine it won't be a problem anymore. Lee was thrilled to see Gemi, but she was not thrilled to see us. I think she was still stoned. Seeing that stoned little dog was both funny and sad. When I got her home and lifted her out of the car, she collapsed on the grass. It took a lot of coaxing to get her to walk into the house. She spent the entire evening laying on the couch. I kept offering her food and she kept giving me the look of death. They told me to feed her when she got home, but she wasn't having any of that. Finally around 9 pm she ate a little and went out. Gemi is still in bed. She does not want to get up. Hailey and the cats are waiting impatiently for breakfast. I am proud to say the late afternoon stress seemed to tire LeeLee out. She let me sleep in until 7! Hmmmm, what sort of torture will tire her out tonight! Her position for the evening. My poor girl! Apparently if you torture Lee the night before she will sleep in. Last night we tortured the dogs. First we went for a drive across the city to pick something up. I tired to make a video of them carrying on in the car, but it didn't work. Gemi was wearing her new car harness for the very first time. Then we drove to PetSmart to get Lee's nails cut. This started off very embarrassing. She was so upset they didn't think it was safe to have her on the table and they had to hold her on the floor. Finally someone, I am not sure who, Drew had gone into the room to see if that helped, tried giving her cookies as they were going it. This she liked and as long as they gave her cookies she was fine. In the end it was the best nail cutting yet! That may be the secret. I guess all of this was too much for her. I was aware of Lee getting on the bed around 5, but she settled right down. I will have to figure out a way to torture her tonight so I can sleep in a little tomorrow (on Saturday!) I am dreaming that I am in the upstairs hall of my childhood home. In that hallway Loki has miraculously come back to life. We can't believe that our cremated dog has risen from the dead. We are so happy to see him and he is playing with Gemi and Hailey (and now I have my 3 dogs). People are telling us we should go on TV and share our story with our" zombie "dog, but I don't want to. I just want to enjoy playing with him. I just want to touch his soft fur (at the end of his life due to the drug combo, Lo had the softest coat on the planet!). I am enjoying being with my 3 dogs when.... back to reality. 5: 11, the beast makes her way out from her cave and begins scratching at the door. I call her back to bed and she comes. She gets herself in the most awkward reverse c shape. Her head is by our bums and her bum is in my face. She wants belly rubs and she is farting. On top of this she won't stay still. She is constantly re - arranging herself, so I am constantly getting kicked in the face. Not to be left out of the dawn love fest, Gemi has made her way to the middle of the bed and is demanding love. So with one hand I am |
16 | 4 | trying to rub Lee's belly, with the other Gemi's chest. After the 15th kick in the face I roll over, hoping this will settle everyone down. Nope, this signals get up time and now Lee is back at the door. When I call her, she comes to my side of the bed. She kisses my face and grabs my arm with her paws. There is no way she is going back to sleep. So at 5: 25ish, I am up with the dogs. I don't have to be up for another 1. 5 hours. The problem is now that I am up, I am awake. There will be no more sleeping. No more delightful dreams. Oh well, there is always tonight. During a thunderstorm he had to get Gemini and only Gemini out of the house. Miss Hailey Bug was determined to go as well and it took a lot of tricking and blocking to get just Gemi out of the house. (Note: the lady would have taken both with her to avoid this. It probably would have been easier). When the lady returned about 30 minutes after the challenge she was greeted by an out of control Miss Bug. Bug jumped in circles and was frantic. She was pacing and panting and near hysterical. There was no thunder when the lady returned and she did not know it had happened. When Gemi arrived home shortly after, Miss Bug was beside herself to see her. She went and greeted her enthusiastically. Gemi was not as happy to see her, she was more thrilled to see the lady. Gemi will be having some dental surgery on Friday to get her teeth cleaned and some xrays. The lady needs to work out of the house that day. Here is hopping that the Bug doesn't destroy the place. Bug in her fortress of solitude Yesterday, at the dog park, Miss Hailey Bug got to be off leash the entire time we were there. Including our walk through the woods. She has had to be on leash some of the time since her success at catching a squirrel in May. This is a huge accomplishment for her. YAY! Miss Cricket had been demonstrating a pickiness for her food in the past few days. For those of you who know her, this is not unusual. Cricket has always had days where she doesn't want to eat, so it is not so strange. However, after a couple days of her just wanting to eat her soft food, her people got a little suspicious. They knew she had a chipped tooth (the vet had looked at it about 2 months ago and said it wasn't a problem right now and when it was we would fix it), so they decided to check it out. What they found shocked them. Poor Miss Crick, has a gum infection around both her top canine teeth. They felt horrible and immediately called the vet (whose home number is on their speed dial, the blessing of having a good friend who is a vet). He agreed to go in to the clinic on Monday to see Miss Cricket. (He is confident she will be fine until them). Miss Cricket said she tried to tell her people her mouth hurt and they are neglectful. Bagheera here. I never get to be part of the blog so I took it over today. Half my life has been part of a dog infested world. I have tried a lot of things to get those beasts out of my house. I tried beating them (which worked until the dog got larger than me). I tried ignoring them and the people who stupidly brought them here. That didn't work. In fact they continued to bring dogs in. Since the disappearance of the first dog I have tried to be more tolerant of the current two. They are girls which makes them less offensive and for the most part they listen to my bitching to tell them to leave me alone, and I use Nin as bait for them so they leave me alone. I found a great one. The people keep the dogs locked in their bedroom at night. This means I get the run of the house. This is great. But in the early morning hours, Nin and I go outside the bedroom door and whisper things about how we are playing with the dogs toys and eating their food. The white one is not fooled by this (but she is my favourite, if I were to have a favourite dog), but the black one, she goes crazy. She will scratch and scratch at the bedroom door. The people will try and ignore her or scold her but in the end they always end up getting up with her. I get to stress her out and make the people who ruined my world by bring those stupid things into the house a little less happy. I love to torture her. No good ever came out of a Thursday, and yesterday was no exception. It started with 30 minutes of obsessive barking because there were landscapers out front and they were talking. Apparently they were plotting a world take over or something that Lee thought we should all know about. 1) His winter jacket had been attacked. (We have an open closet area that has had our coats in it for 10 months and she has never |
16 | 5 | gone near them. The closet is now empty). My guess why she did this is either she believed this signalled the return of bad winter, or she finds it too hot and she is trying to tell us she wants it to be winter. 2) 2 tennis balls must have fallen off a shelf and now there is only one. She ate one. Not ripped it up and destroyed it, but ate it. Apparently (as I was not here) she threw up a chewed up tennis ball. (Yes we do feed her). Lady: "Lee that is because when you see them you go into stalking mode. You look like you are going to hunt them. Their people and the dogs may find that scary." I made extra sure to give her a great walk yesterday morning. I even snuck out without Gemi (who was very angry when we got home). It was a great walk. I got home and found: 2) she had somehow gotten a pair of shoes (both my husband and I were sure they were in the cupboard, but I guess not). Fortunately it does not appear she has chewed them. One was in the hall, the other was in Gemi's pile (perhaps Gemi rescued it for me). I had cut myself a wonderful piece of chocolate banana bread. It was on the counter, I hadn't pushed back far enough while I turned to get something out of the fridge. She grabbed it off the counter and eaten it and then ran and hid. I am sure the small amount of chocolate in it will not kill her, although let me tell you I wanted to. I put her outside and cut myself another piece and ate it in peace! Drew faced similar challenges making dinner. She was up at the counter every time he turned. Our girl has become a great counter surfer and it is driving us nuts! Maybe we should just get higher counters. If only their was an award for counter surfing! I have been slightly negligent in brushing Miss Bug, so when I went to do it yesterday I was prepared for the show. Much to my surprise, she hardly flinched when I started. Then she flopped down and her body language suggested she may have actually liked it! We are the dog owners who allow the dogs to sleep in our bed at night. I had originally hoped that we would train Lee to sleep on the floor (she takes up a lot of room in the bed). However, my attempts to do so were blocked by the other person in the bed. This made a full bed, extra full on nights we let the cats in the room. Recently, and I don't know why (perhaps due to the window A / C and fans) Miss Hailey Bug has decided the bed is not for her, but rather her spot is in the cave under the bed. This has meant way more space glorious space in the bed. Gemi hardly takes up any room, she curls up in a little ball by feet. Generally, as soon as I start to stir, Lee comes out from the cave excited to be alive. Often around 5: 30am she joins us in the bed to see if we are awake (she is ready to start her day, she can't understand why we are not facing life with the same excitement!) The other morning I got up, went to the bathroom, and she still wasn't out. I called her and she didn't come out. Finally, we looked and because of the placement of a laundry basket by the bed she was stuck. She didn't make a noise she was just sitting stuck in her cave. What a girl! Lee: "Birds, I love birds. Oh no, what is that noise? I don't like it. Why are we going out when there is that noise? What type of birds are those? I will stick to chasing robins." Gemi: "Stop that noise. Stop exploding things. It is interfering with the Princess' beauty rest. Stupid Canada Day, first I am not the only Princess in town and now this." |
17 | 0 | Scully smiled once more at Mulder sprawled asleep in his bed. He was so beautiful. She'd always seen him as physically attractive, but his face, as he had loved her last night, had brought tears to her eyes. "I don't think so." She kissed him and he nuzzled her. "Mulder, go back to sleep. I'll see you later." He made a grumbling noise and she smiled tenderly at him. She gave him one more kiss and slipped out of the bed. She dressed in his bathroom and stopped once more at the door, to look at him. It had been a shock to her that they had ended up in his bed. She had known it was inevitable, but the timing was still a surprise. He had been stunned, and a little put out, that she had had an epiphany in a Buddhist temple while he was out of town, but it had freed her. It had been right. Nothing had ever been more right. She had experience, not lately of course, but she wasn't a virgin. However there had been a moment last night when everything had merged. They had... melded. She had honestly not known where she ended and he began. It wasn't just her, she had looked up into eyes as wide and stunned as hers. She felt warm again just remembering that. It was something she would always remember. Scully mentally shook herself after almost running a red light. She'd see him in a couple of hours. She eased up on the accelerator. No need to prolong the separation by being stopped for speeding either. She froze for an instant and the blood left her face. How? How had he gotten inside? She had thought he was gone. They hadn't seen him since... since she had almost destroyed her relationship with Mulder. He shrugged. "I have some friends. Not all of them know, yet. If you're gone, they won't have to find out." "Okay, fair enough." He nodded at her, still so serene she wanted to scratch his eyes out. "Go away for a few weeks. You're a doctor; you know how soon you can confirm a pregnancy. If I'm lying, come back, apologize. I'm sure all would be forgiven... again." That startled her and she stepped back. "Here." He withdrew an envelope from his inside coat pocket. "You won't want to use your credit cards." He dropped the envelope on the couch and moved to the door. "You need to decide Dana, save my son or try to save my grandchild. You have a number where you can always reach me." "In the envelope. Call me, I have... connections. Dana, you do understand, you can't be with him either way. They wouldn't allow any more slip - ups." She looked around wildly for a second. He was gone, the white envelope stood in stark contrast to the darker blue stripe of her couch. They would kill him; they would kill Mulder, because of her. She believed that much anyway. Back in the bedroom she dug under her remaining underwear and pulled out the envelope Frohike had given her a while ago. At the last moment, she took the picture of Mulder she kept in her bedside table. It was framed, but she had never displayed it. He was unaware of it, another gift from Frohike. Then she removed the small gold cross from around her neck and left it on her dresser. She carried the bags to her car, then returned for a few last minute items. Would she ever see this place again? She took her cell phone from her purse and set it in the charger, and after a moment's hesitation, stuffed the thick envelope in its place in her purse. She drove to a coffee shop not far from her apartment and entered. It was busy this time of day, busier than she had thought it would be until she realized they were all just going to work. It was the time she would normally... No, there was no normal, not for a little while anyway. She moved to the back of the shop, near the bathrooms and found the pay phone. She dropped some coins into the slot and dialed a number. She closed her eyes, hoping that Frohike would answer. She couldn't talk to the others. "I'm on my way." He hung up the phone. Something was wrong, monumentally wrong, and for whatever reason, she didn't want Byers or Langly to know. That bothered him badly. He only beat her there by a few minutes. She looked terrible. He took her arm and led her to the back of the store. "What's wrong? Is it Mulder? Is he hurt?" "N - no. Please, don't track me. I know you can, but please. I have to disappear. You're the only one who knows about Katherine Hale. Don't... please don't tell anyone." "Dana, tell me what's happened. |
17 | 1 | You can't go off like this. You're not yourself. Come home with me, let us look after you for a little while, at least until you can calm down. "" Will you keep my secret? "Her eyes were desperate." I have to go away. They'll... he would never be safe. "Frohike was even more shaken now that he'd talked to her. She didn't smile. This little man cared for her and he had a point. Someone should know, just in case." You promise, just between us. "" References. You made Katherine a physician's assistant. That works well. I'll go somewhere they need a doctor, but don't have enough access. Maybe they'll need me enough not to check too deeply. "She hesitated a long time, but he waited. She wasn't leaving until he knew something. Finally she gave in to his patience." Remember Albert Holstein? "He nodded," Their reservation needed doctors. He... no one would look for me there. "" I'll set up an email just for you. "He scribbled an address on a receipt from his pocket, and handed it to her." Send me a one - liner, 'ready' and you'll have them. "She shook her head then, unable to speak and hurried out the door. He started to call out after her, but didn't want to call attention to either of them. This was bad. She drove to Richmond, unwilling to take a flight out of D. C. She was too easy to trace and Mulder was an expert. She flew to Chicago, then left the airport. A taxi took her to a motel so like the ones she had frequented with him. She purchased some things from a nearby drug store and returned to the room. For the first time she was glad to have been too busy to schedule a haircut. Now, dyed blonde and styled differently, she felt more secure. She needed to buy a used car, that way she could be more mobile, not at the mercy of an airline's schedule. She stopped suddenly in the middle of the room. Why did she believe this? Spender had lied so many times to them over the years. Why should she trust him now? Why should she believe his word that she was pregnant? Scully looked at the pregnancy test she'd bought. Too early, much too early, but she hadn't been able to leave the drug store without it. In a few days... Now for the chip. She couldn't remove it. It had never been scientifically proven that it had anything to do with her remission from cancer, but Mulder believed it. Therefore she did as well. Would anything block the signal? If only it were kryptonite. She actually smiled for an instant. Lead? She would have no way of knowing, but why not try it. She returned to the store and wandered around. What had lead in it? Then she spotted the small bags at the film display. Lead lined sacks for protecting film from airport x - rays. What the hell. She grabbed it up and a pair of wire cutters. At least it was something to try. She pulled up to the house. She was completely exhausted, physically and emotionally. It had taken her nearly three weeks to get here after she had left Chicago. She still wasn't showing, wouldn't be for a while. No one could tell... at five weeks she was mostly just exhausted. The route she'd taken probably couldn't be duplicated, even by her. There was no way to know if the small sliver of lead she wore under the bandage on her neck was helping, but it was all she had. She took a deep breath and opened the car door. The heat slammed her in the face and seemed to take what little energy she had left. The door to the house opened and a Native American man walked toward her. She recognized Albert's son, Tomas. Tears came to her eyes as she nodded. He took her arm and led her into the relative coolness of his home." This is my wife, Naomi. "A Native American woman with a broad face and laughing eyes brushed her long braid over her shoulder to her back. Scully gave the taller woman a tentative smile. Naomi came over to her as she dried her hands on a dishtowel." I'm glad you're here safe. "She took Dana into her arms and held her. That was all it took, Scully broke down in her arms, sobbing. Naomi just held her, patting her back and humming to her. When Scully began regaining her composure, she started to apologize." It was what you needed, Dana. Don't think of it again. Your room is ready. Come with me. "Keeping her arm around Scully, she led her back to a familiar room. This was where she had tended Mulder when he was recovering from his drugging and her gunshot wound. Naomi gave her shoulder another squeeze and let herself out of the room. Scully turned to look at the bed |
17 | 2 | again. She could see Mulder lying there. She turned away and found the bathroom, then returned to the room quietly. Finally she sat on the bed and toed off her shoes. She hadn't slept, really slept in days and didn't expect to now. Finally she lay back and rested her head on the pillow, her hand on her stomach. She was asleep before her eyes closed fully. Mulder woke slowly and stretched sore muscles. Then he smiled. It had been real, it had happened. Scully had come to his bed, she had allowed him to love her. He pulled her pillow toward him and breathed in her scent again. He almost laughed at himself, he felt like a kid at Christmas. He hurried through his shower and dressing. Part of him wanted to call her, just to hear her voice again, but he held off. They'd be together shortly. Another smile took over his face, 'together'. He stopped for coffee and bought her one of those sinful cinnamon buns she craved but refused to indulge in. They'd worked off enough calories last night to justify it. The woman behind the counter returned his smile and after he turned away nodded to herself. Well, he was in a good mood this morning and she had a pretty good idea why. Scully wasn't there when he arrived, so he placed his morning offering on the small table she used. He would get her that desk. Battleship wasn't all they could play on a larger surface. He booted up his computer and started reading his email. His glances at his watch became more frequent. Scully was never late, that was his thing. But where was she? He finally gave in and dialed her apartment. Her machine picked up, and while the sound of her voice soothed him a little as always, he needed more. When he got voice mail on her cell, he felt the first frisson of unease. She didn't turn off her cell. He forced himself to wait another fifteen minutes, then called up to Skinner's office. "Kim? Mulder. Is Scully up there?" He hoped he sounded casual. "Yeah, everything's fine. Thanks." He hung up, now having to face the truth. Something wasn't 'fine' and he needed to know what. Was she avoiding him? She hadn't seemed upset when she left; kissing him and saying she'd see him at work. Had she changed her mind? Had something caused her to rethink what had happened? To hell with this. He slipped on his suit coat and after glancing at the cooling coffee and bun, retraced his steps to the garage. He'd taken her regular route home, but hadn't spotted her. Her car was gone. Still he hurried to her apartment, letting himself in with little effort. He stopped just inside the door, something was... wrong. He sniffed the air and stiffened. Smoke, cigarette smoke. No! That SOB hadn't talked her into leaving with him again. No! They'd talked about that, she knew better. "Scully?" She didn't answer, the place was empty. He spotted her cell phone in the charger by her desktop computer. That frightened him on a level he couldn't define. She never forgot things like that, not when she left on her own. Had he, had Spender taken her? He entered her bedroom, way past uneasy now. The bed was made, but indented. He opened the closet. Her large suitcase was missing as well as her overnight bag. He ducked into the bathroom. When they traveled she always carried those small sample size bottles of shampoo and stuff. Now as he looked around, he saw that her full size bottles were gone. He hurried back to the bedroom and jerked open some drawers. They were nearly empty. She had packed as though... as though she was going to be gone for a long time. He sank onto the foot of her bed, unable to formulate a coherent thought. This room had always soothed him; he'd snuck in here often when she wasn't paying attention. Now he felt cold. He glanced back at her dresser and caught the small gleam of the chain. He rose again and stood over it. Her cross. She had removed it, left it. For him? Or because the sin she had committed was too large. She had enjoyed last night. Had it been so long that he couldn't tell if a woman was faking it? No, not Scully. She wouldn't do that. So where the fuck was she? Mulder's eyes closed for an instant in relief. "Her car's missing. We need to track it, put a trace on her credit cards." "Mulder, get up here." Skinner's voice sounded in his ear. He dropped the receiver back in the cradle and took off up the stairs. Word? Finally? God, it had to be. None of his leads had panned out. This had been the longest three weeks of his life. Spender was no where to be found. He's checked every rat hole personally. He'd called in |
17 | 3 | favors, smoozed with air line reservationists, and managed not to slug any of his fellow employees who watched him every time he stuck his head out of his basement. That last was getting harder to do. There was no evidence that she was injured. She had made her own way to Richmond. That had taken time to discover, but she had been alone as far as anyone knew. Her car had yielded no evidence that anyone had been with her. But she hadn't contacted him. That scared him the most. No contact. If she were able... No, he couldn't go there. That fear was coming very close to shutting him down and he couldn't afford not to be on top of his form. No investigation was more important. The door was open and Kim waved him on inside. She looked at him closely as he hurried past. The man looked like hell. He hadn't shaved again this morning and she thought maybe he had slept in his suit, if he had slept. He pushed the door closed behind him. "Sir?" "Assistant Director Skinner - I apologize for the delay in sending this email, but I am tendering my resignation, for personal reasons, from the Bureau. My resignation is effective immediately. A hard copy, with my signature, is being sent overnight to you. I have given my decision a great deal of thought and it is final. Also in the envelope is a money order. Please give it to my mother when she returns and ask her to have my furniture and personal items placed in storage. I thank you for your leadership and support during my tenure at the FBI. Skinner nodded." It bounced back. I'm forwarding it you. Do you think it's really her? "But Mulder had turned and was leaving his office." Mulder? "There was no response. Mulder headed for the basement. He stopped just inside the door and looked around. He wasn't seeing the office; he was seeing her, remembering her as she moved around their space. This was where they argued over cases, over theories - his wild ones, her scientific ones. Where he'd fallen in love with her. The email, it had sounded like her. Was he missing a clue? It didn't feel like it. It felt like the ultimate rejection. 'I do not blame him for anything in our partnership'. Partnership, not relationship. Wasn't that magnanimous of her. What a fool. What a god - damn fool he was. He'd kept after her until he'd gotten her. He laughed out loud. Even to his ears he sounded insane. He forced his mouth closed, then shut and locked the door. He looked like shit when he got to the Gunmen's door." Mulder? What? Did you hear from her? "Byers opened the door wider, drawing him inside." Skinner got an email from her today, resigning. I forwarded it to your computer. The address is gone now. I need you to trace it. "Langly looked over at Byers, then back at Mulder." Uh, I don't think so. He wouldn't need to do this with what he has at his disposal. "Mulder looked around, searching for something to hold on to. He had hoped that they would find something to cause him to rethink his intuition. He hadn't gotten it. She had left him, she had thought about what had happened between them and decided to get away from him. That didn't explain the cigarette smoke in her apartment. He'd automatically assumed it was Spender, but could she have smoked as she contemplated her decision? God, what had she been thinking? He turned then and left their apartment without another word. It was over; she was gone, apparently of her own free will. He should be surprised it had taken her this long to leave him. Mulder threw himself into his new assignments. His theories were as out there as before, but no one dared refer to him as' Spooky 'any more. He was too willing to dive into the filth of the cases he had tried so hard to avoid before. His instincts were honed; he asked questions he never had before. She had taught him well and he used that to keep others away. No one had to question his' science 'any longer because he played on their field now. The more depraved the mind, the quicker he dug in. The problem was the chances he was willing to take. There was talk about a death wish. No one heard a word out of his mouth that didn't concern the case he was working. Only once had Scully been mentioned. The mistake had not been repeated." You listen to me and you listen good. "Skinner growled at him." I don't know what happened between you and Scully. "The look Mulder shot him felt like an ice spear, but he continued. He couldn't let this go on; not this time, it had been too close." But you report to me, that makes you my responsibility. I'm not going to let you commit suicide on my watch. If |
17 | 4 | you stay on this path, when you're released, I will nail you to a desk so hard that you'll need to be catheterized. Don't test me. I'll do it. You came too close this time. "Skinner set the IV bag connected to Mulder's arm swinging. Mulder only looked up at the ceiling. Byers and Langly entered the room, followed by Frohike. They had heard Skinner, but he wasn't through." You've been reckless; you've put yourself in danger and because of that, other agents as well. I should have you committed to a psych ward, but for now I'm going to put you on administrative leave. "He turned to Mulder's friends," You keep an eye on him. "" The hell you are. "Frohike spoke up then, moving to the other side of the bed." You were shot, twice. You'll be here for a couple more days anyway. "" You can't. "Byers said firmly." You're not well enough to leave. Mulder, give it a little longer. You don't want to hurt yourself permanently. "Mulder opened his mouth, but then just nodded looking only at the ceiling. After exchanging yet another look, the three men moved toward the door. Frohike touched Mulder's arm, then followed Byers out of the room. Mulder sighed, but knew the little man wouldn't leave. He levered himself up from the couch painfully and, using the cane, made his slow way to the door. He opened it and let Frohike inside. Mulder didn't speak, but Frohike felt sweat bead on his forehead. He knew his life was in the balance here." She was scared. I'd never seen her like that. She... she needed my help. "Frohike swallowed and wished he were seated, but didn't want to move that close to the man." I gave her a present last Christmas. It was kind of a joke. "He sighed," I gave her a set of fake ID. "Frohike nodded," To go with George. She wanted to plead with me not to trace her. She knew once I found out she was gone, I'd remember. "" Mulder, it wasn't like that. I don't remember her exact words, something about 'he wouldn't be safe'. She was talking about you, man. I don't know what happened, but something freaked her out. She was completely terrified. I'd never seen her like that. I gotta tell you, she scared me too. "" Faked references, work papers. After that everything I sent bounced back. There's been nothing - no credit applied for, no travel... "He ran down, watching the pain his new information was causing his friend." Mulder, listen to me, she was trying to protect you. She... "The look on Mulder's face stopped him." Let me try some more places. You need some time to heal. I won't keep anything else from you, but you can't go off looking for her. Not now. "Frohike sighed," Physician's assistant. Not a full doctor. "He did take the seat beside Mulder finally. How was he going to be able to keep the man here now? She flushed, but didn't try to deny it." I won't be long. If I don't finish this tonight, I'll just have to face it in the morning. "He couldn't dispute that." Okay, I'm locking you in. Not late, promise me. If you don't look after yourself, I'll have to. "A few minutes later her eyes wandered back to the door. She could see him, framed in the door, so tall and strong and beloved. If only." Can't what, Scully? Be together? You've made that abundantly clear. I just want to know one thing. "He finally moved into the room. It barely registered to her that he was limping." What did I do wrong? "" Mulder! "She was on her feet then, rounding the desk to get to him. She was seeing him for the first time now - not her fantasy of the man she loved, but him, now. He was gaunt, his face had deep lines in it and there was more than a sprinkle of gray at his temples. She remembered the limp then and knelt beside him." He said you'd be safe. "She didn't realize he had looked up and was watching her. He had focused on her body. She watched a shaking hand come out as though to touch the soft swell of her abdomen. He would see her breasts were bigger. She closed her eyes for an instant. Of course he would notice, but would he ask? He seemed to nod and after a moment started struggling to his feet. She reached to help him and he pulled away. It felt like a slap. He didn't notice, just turned toward the door. She watched as he retrieved a cane from down the |
17 | 5 | hall but didn't comment. It would have to wait. When they arrived at the door she found that it was still dead bolted. "I've been walking to work. It's close." She turned toward her home and started walking. For a change his steps didn't outpace hers but she could see that he wasn't prepared for the drop in temperature in the desert. He was beginning to shiver. The problem was she couldn't tell if it was the coolness of the night or the strain of the walk. She looked up at him. Coincidence? No, not with them. She moved on to the door and pulled out her keys. He followed more slowly. When he entered the house she knew he was on the verge of collapse. "Here. Sit here." She motioned toward the couch. When he swayed, she moved to his side and though he protested, helped him to the couch. She pulled the afghan down and placed it around his shoulders. He looked like he wanted to argue, but didn't have the energy. "No thanks. I know I'm not welcome in your bed." He closed his eyes then, letting his head fall back to rest on the couch. He couldn't look at her, couldn't face the look in her eyes. She heated up some of the soup that she had made over the weekend. When she looked back into the room, she realized he had drifted off, at the end of his rope. The lines in his face had not eased out. She picked up the phone and moved to the bedroom in order not to disturb him. Frohike's card was where she had hidden it. She dialed quickly. "It's late." The voice snapped, not happy to be awakened. "He was shot." He heard her gasp, but she didn't interrupt. "Baldy put him on leave. He said he wasn't going to let him commit suicide on the job." "That's the word Baldy used. We were there, in the hospital. Baldy was shaken. Our boy has not been... okay. Apparently he started taking some real chances at work. Dumb ones. He doesn't seem to care if he lives or dies. This was just the latest and most boneheaded. We didn't know how bad he was. He's been avoiding us lately, hell, he's been avoiding everyone." "I... I'll be in touch." She broke the connection and just stood looking out into the night. Finally she gathered her courage around her, touching the stone that hung around her neck, a gift from Albert. Scully sat gently beside him on the couch. He looked... defeated and lost. He was supposed to be safe with her gone. What the hell had happened? Gently she touched his arm. "Mulder, dinner is ready." "Please, eat with me, Mulder. I need to eat and I'd like the company." He didn't respond, but she watched him glance back down at her waist and quickly away. Still there were no questions. His eyes narrowed, but she was already on her feet. She brought the bowls into the living room. He hated it, but he wasn't sure he could make it to the table anyway. He shook his head and set the bowl back on the tray. He lifted the glass of ice tea to his lips then. When he returned it to the tray, he sat back and looked at nothing in particular until she set her own bowl down. "What I did wrong. I never claimed to be some great lover, but that was a new low, even for me - driving you out of town." He forced himself to look at her again, and saw the stricken look on her face. "That was it, wasn't it? You couldn't even bear to face me." "No." It was only a breath. She seemed to shrink in on herself. All of her plans to send him away, angry if necessary, blown away by his words. He ached to reach for her even as he wanted to shake her and scream obscenities in her face. She rose without another word and moved toward the back of the house. He didn't attempt to follow her. In a minute or two he heard the toilet flush and the water run. When she returned, her eyes were red but she'd obviously washed her face and to some extent centered herself. Scully stood in front of him. "It's not a short story and I'm exhausted. Could we please get into this tomorrow?" She was telling the truth about herself, but she could see he was barely able to function. He nodded after a moment and levered himself off the couch, ignoring her offer of help. When he reentered the living room, the tray and dishes were gone and she was seated at one end of the small sofa with her legs tucked under her. She was obviously lost in thought. "I can. Go on." He remembered that expression, besides it was going to be a struggle to get to |
17 | 6 | the next room. He nodded finally and fished the keys from the front pocket of his jeans. He was in the bathroom when she returned with his bag. It was light; apparently he only brought a couple of changes of clothes. He had known where to look for her. He'd used Frohike's information well, and of course there was that intuition of his. She put his bag on a chair in her bedroom. She dug out his medicine and checked the dosage, then shook the pills into her hand and left them on the bedside table. She brought a glass of water in. He wasn't out of the bathroom yet, so she left him alone. She cleaned the kitchen, washing the dishes and putting away the rest of the soup. When she finally checked, he was in her bed and seemed to be asleep already. She didn't test it, just pulled the door nearly closed and retreated to the living room. He hadn't bothered to tell her good night. She tried to stay away, but she couldn't settle down. Frohike's words kept coming back to her. Suicide. A sound made her turn toward her room. She stood in the doorway, watching him sleep. He was in a fetal position as though cold, or scared, occasionally he trembled. He shifted slightly and she saw that he had tears running down his face. Her heart broke at the sight. She had abandoned him. It was his worst fear and she had made it real. She'd made it real after they had finally loved each other. It was the thought she hadn't allowed herself to contemplate. She had left him so abruptly with no thought except to keep him safe. Keep all of them safe. Finally she turned away and got ready for bed herself. She had planned to sleep on the sofa, but she couldn't now. She wouldn't put more distance between them. She pulled on a nightgown and carefully slipped into the bed beside him. He didn't wake, but moved closer to her, absorbing her warmth. She knew his reserves were completely depleted. He'd lost over 20 pounds, and he had no business being out of the hospital, much less traveling across country. She woke alone in the bed sometime later and sat up. She spotted him seated in the chair by the window. The anger on his face was obvious, even in this poor light, but there was also something else... fear? His lips parted, but he changed his mind, rising slowly and making his way out of the room. She heard the bathroom door close. A few minutes later she heard him move toward the living room. She rose from the bed and hurried out there. "I said I'd sleep out here. I will. I won't bother you, but please take the bed. You need some recovery time. Do this for me, please." She could see him fighting her plea and she kept her distance, not sure what would anger him more. "Mulder, please." She was in front of him now, close enough to touch him. She placed her hand over the gun and he let her take it from him, then he sagged against the door frame. "Greg, help me." She pulled Mulder's arm around her shoulder. Greg moved then and half lifted Mulder, supporting him to the bed. Mulder's eyes closed after giving Greg the once over and lay still on the bed. Before Scully could stop him, Greg removed the bandage covering his hip. It was the first time she'd seen the angry, red wound. His eyes widened and he straightened up. "This is a gunshot wound. What the hell is going on here?" She straightened up and tightened the sash of her robe. "Greg, I can't get into this right now, but you need to know it's already been reported. And he was already treated, when he was injured in the line of duty." "He's in law enforcement. There's no need to report it again. Please, Greg, go on to work. Cover for me." "He won't hurt me. Please." Scully's hand on Greg's arm drew him toward the door. Mulder's eyes opened then, searching for her. She met his eyes, then tugged Greg out of the room. He allowed her to lead him to the front door, but stopped. "He's the father." It wasn't really a question. Scully didn't respond, looking at the floor beside him. Greg sighed. "I don't like this. I'm gonna check on you at lunch." She nodded. "I promise to explain this when I can." She opened the door and waited. After a long moment, he spoke, "I'm going to hold you to that." He took a deep breath, looking back at the bedroom door before he left. She turned immediately back to her bedroom. She had the impression Mulder had just reclined, but he was watching the door. Mulder's eyes flicked down to her waist, then quickly away. She made no comment on it. |
17 | 7 | "I'm going to make you some breakfast." She took the tray away from the bed. He had eaten his scrambled eggs and toast without protest. He was still drinking his orange juice; she had refused him coffee. She sat the tray on the dresser and turned to look at him. He slowly put the glass down on her bedside table. He tried to steel himself for whatever she was going to say. She could see his defenses go up. "Agent Dana Scully at a loss for words. Let me help. You're at my place; you're exhausted and fall asleep on my couch. I lean over you to cover you up and... and take my shot. I kiss you. I think you enjoy it and take it farther than I should have. After you think about it -" "No. No, that is not what happened. Yes, you kissed me and I did enjoy it. It was the right time for us. You did not force me, in case that ever crossed your mind." Tears formed in her eyes, but she didn't back down. No matter what happened now, he had to know what had caused her to leave. "When I got to my place he was there. Inside the apartment. He was waiting for me. He... he told me that he knew we had... been together. He said that they..." No prelude, just the facts ma 'am. A report of an incident. Mulder didn't ask who. The answer was obvious. Her eyebrow rose even as tears filled her eyes at the look on his face. "I believe the technical term is' ours'." Her voice shook on the last word. "The birds and the bees and the monkey babies?" He didn't smile. After a moment she continued. "He told me 'they' knew, or would soon, and they would kill you for it. He gave me the option of going away to save you or... or getting rid of the baby. You aren't supposed to have children, Mulder." "Not a baby, Mulder." She stopped there. "That's enough for now. You're exhausted. You had no business coming out here in your condition." There was more to talk about, so much more, but she was right. He was at the end of his rope. Hearing this had sapped his resolve in ways he hadn't anticipated. Without a word, he slid down in the bed and turned his back to her. Tears finally slipped from her eyes when she closed them. She let herself out of the bedroom and pulled the door closed. He rolled over and looked at the door once he heard it close. It was all his fault, like he had always thought. He was the reason for everything that had happened to her from the beginning. He wasn't supposed to have children, him not her. It wasn't only the FBI that had a pool going apparently. God, what he had done to her life. Why hadn't this latest shooting just killed him? Then he couldn't hurt her anymore. After a long time, he fell asleep. "The man you saw this morning is under tremendous stress and he's injured. But what he was doing was protecting me. Don't you see that? He threatened you because you had hold of me. Please, think about it." There was silence on the other end of the phone as Greg recreated the scene in his head. Finally she heard him sigh. "I'm stopping by on my way home." "They didn't want me to have kids. You said it yourself. Why they didn't take care of it by... working on me, I don't know." She'd seen that stubborn set of his jaw before. She sighed, "I don't want to fight about this now. It doesn't matter; I am pregnant despite all of that." He didn't see the slap coming and his ears rang, though he did hear her words as she slammed into her bedroom. "Obtuse son of a bitch..." There was more but that's what he heard most clearly. When he could, he rose to his feet and headed slowly for her room. He tapped but didn't wait for her invitation, fairly sure it wouldn't come. She was sitting on the edge of the bed and didn't acknowledge him. "Don't hit me again, please." He interrupted her and took a seat beside her on the bed. "I was just... I didn't... hell, Scully I'm still back at we made love one night and you left town. The reason you did it hasn't sunk in yet. To save my life, to save our... our child's life is a new concept for me." "Well how can you ask me that? It's taken me, us, years to get to that point. I thought we were together on our timing, finally." She seemed to wilt |
17 | 8 | beside him. Finally he reached out and put his arm around her, pulling her to him. She resisted for a moment, then sighed and let herself lean into him. He closed his eyes, his Adam's apple bobbed in relief. "No, but... Mulder, you can't stay here. It's not safe and you obviously weren't planning to. You only brought a couple of changes of clothes." His stiffness made her look up and she caught his expression before he could hide it. She pulled away slightly, her mouth dropped open. "You weren't going back, were you? But you brought your gun." It wasn't a question and the outrage on her face frightened him. "Were you going to kill me first, before you shot -" "I smelled him." He said softly. "How long do you think I could wait that morning to go looking for you?" He felt her relent slightly. "I didn't know what he'd done to you. And I couldn't believe you'd just go off with him again, not after last time. I searched for you... until the email to Skinner. Then I had to face that you'd left because of me, because of what I'd done." "Oh god." He closed his eyes for an instant. "You really are pregnant." He reached for her, and hissed as he pulled on his stitches. "I'm okay." He groused, but he allowed her to help him recline. She felt his head for fever. "Don't go doctor on me now, Scully." She rolled her eyes, but made no comment. He seemed to be weakening. What little stamina he'd had was gone. "Get some rest, Mulder." She started to rise. "Rest." She did rise then and left the room, leaving the door open this time. He watched her leave. His emotions were all over the place. She hadn't left him; she'd left to protect him. She hadn't betrayed him with Cancerman. And, and she was carrying his child. He opened his mouth to speak, but then shook his head. Concern took over her face and she felt his forehead again. "Come on, take this, then I want you to eat and take a nap." He was still asleep when she woke. His breathing seemed heavy, but he wasn't restless. She touched his face and with a frown, slipped from the bed. He was warm, too warm. Wasn't there a thermometer in her bathroom? She found it and rather than wake him, slipped it under his arm. Her eyes widened when she checked it. 102. 2, plus a degree. She gathered up his medication and moved to the kitchen to check it out once more. It was what she would have prescribed. But had he taken it? Obviously not, why would he with what he'd been planning? She shivered at the thought, then squared her shoulders. She didn't know if he had forgiven her, if he could completely forgive her or trust her, but she could treat him. "No. He's ill. He's running a fever. I need you to bring me some penicillin. I'm not going to be able to get medicine down him. How busy are you?" She moved to the door and motioned him on in. "Brought you one of the electronic thermometers." He spoke low, "Is he having any problems breathing?" Greg shifted him slightly and he protested mildly, but didn't wake. He grunted when she injected him, then Greg helped settle him onto his back. Greg was the one who put the thermometer in his ear. "I know, 'it's complicated'. I've known it for awhile. You obviously have the creds, Kat. Don't worry, I'm not going to say anything. Look, keep him here this afternoon. I'll check back after the clinic closes. If he's still like this, we'll have to make other arrangements." He shook his head, "You've done a world of good around here. There's a reason you're here and we're benefiting from it." He squeezed her shoulders, then looked back at the man sleeping in the bed. "If anyone can do it, I'm betting on you. Call me." By the time Greg returned, she had to concede he was correct. Mulder needed more. He was too weak; he'd not been interested in healing. At Greg's insistence, they maneuvered him out to his rental car and transported him to the clinic. He was completely non - responsive now and his breathing was definitely labored. After three days, he was worse. Greg was ready to drug her to get her some rest. The IVs were still carrying medicine and nourishment into his body, but it wasn't helping. Naomi opened the door and looked over at the patient. She turned to look behind her and Albert followed her in. Mulder was quiet and pale, his breathing labored, but it was the |
17 | 9 | woman beside him Naomi was more worried about. Scully looked up and saw the woman that had looked after her when she had first arrived. "N - Naomi, Albert, help him." Her eyes showed her fear. "I can't get his fever down. I'm not sure he's strong enough to be moved." "He needs you, Dana, but right now you can't reach him. And you've exhausted yourself. We will stay with your Mulder, but you must lie down." Albert pointed to the second bed in the room. "That would be the most help for you both right now." "We won't leave either of you. Rest, Dana. It is what you both need." Naomi helped her to recline and covered her with the light blanket. When she turned back to her father - in - law, he was fastening a cord around Mulder's neck. Now a stone that matched Scully's rested on his chest beside her cross. Scully stirred and sat up. Where was she? She had been at the clinic with Mulder. She'd been resting at Albert's insistence. Now she was parked on the side of the road. The driver's side of the car was empty. Was she asleep? She couldn't be; she could feel the seatbelt around her. This was a rental car, like the hundreds she'd been in with Mulder. Was he here? She looked around but didn't spot him. Finally she opened the door to the car and got out. He had to be here; otherwise she would have been in the driver's seat. Had he taken a bathroom break? It was going to get dark soon, where had he gotten to? She took a few steps from the car and looked around again. She could feel the heat from the ground through her shoes. How the hell had she gotten here? She felt the need, the pull to look for him. She had to find him, but where was he? She found her hand around the stone Albert had given her. For some reason that made her feel more confident. She headed out into the desert. She'd keep the car in sight, but she had to find him. The feeling was getting stronger - he needed her. She walked longer than she thought she would, but she couldn't stop. He was out here somewhere. The car was long out of sight before she finally spotted him. He had his back to her. For some reason she didn't call out to him. She continued toward him, but he didn't seem to notice. Then she saw that he was crying, his shoulders were slumped and tears were making their way down his face. She turned to see what he was looking at and finally saw the others. There was a little girl, walking away from him. She wasn't hurrying, just walking and not looking back. She had long dark hair that flowed down her back. Behind her and to the right was an older woman with silver hair. She too was just walking away, without a backward glance. Something made her look over to the left and walking away at a different angle from the other two was a dark haired woman. And there were others, drifting away, leaving him all alone. Then she saw the slight red - headed woman. She was trailing behind the young girl and the older woman, but she too was leaving him without noticing him standing there. Wait a minute - that looked like her. She opened her mouth to call out to him, but found she couldn't speak. And she couldn't seem to get closer to him, no matter how fast she walked. Then it hit her, this was what he saw, the girl - that was Samantha and, and the woman was Teena. Scully turned toward the brunette. That was Diana. She had left him, in a different way, but Diana too had abandoned him. But she hadn't, at least she hadn't meant to. He wasn't even trying to go after these women. He looked so... so defeated. No! She was here, she wasn't going to leave him. Not now. If she'd been thinking straight she would never have left in the first place, but she had been so shaken by Spender's words. She looked down and realized she wasn't pregnant. No, no! She wouldn't allow him to be abandoned by the family he had created. "Mulder!" He shook his head, "You're not here. You left, just like everyone else. I trusted you, I let myself, I let myself love you. Of course you left." She watched him look down at her body then and realized she was large with his child. He looked at her body for a long moment. She reached out her hand to him and when he wouldn't take it, grasped his fingers. "Please, let me earn your trust again." She moved closer and rose on her toes to meet his lips. He didn't close his eyes, watching her kiss him. "Mulder, I want to be with you. |
17 | 10 | Please. "Scully slipped from the adjacent bed and reached for him. His eyes were flickering." Mulder, can you hear me? "She felt for his hand and he weakly took her fingers in his own." Shh. I'm here. I'm right here and I'm not leaving you. We're not leaving you. "She brought his hand to her lips. |
18 | 0 | The last couple of days have been pretty non - eventful, so there's really nothing for me to talk about. Unless you want to hear about the 8 loads of laundry I've done between today and yesterday. Or the number of times I've swept the floors. I used to be excited for summer and letting Luke play outside all the time, but now that I see how much grass and dirt he (and the dog) track in, my enthusiasum is waning. Maybe you'd like to hear about Luke's first purchase today at Hobby Lobby. No, you'd rather not? That's okay. I just had two coupons that were "one per customer per day". So Luke 'bought' something so I could use both coupons. Clever, eh? I think I'll just bake myself a cookie for a treat, hop in the shower (one of those really rare days where I didn't get a shower today), and call it a day. Fingers crossed that tomorrow something worth talking about happens. On second thought, uncross those fingers. When something exciting happens, it's usually a little on the crazy side, and I think I'll take a few uncrazy days for awhile. This morning I took Luke to a birthday party. Our friends' little boy, Zane, turns 2 next weekend! Since it's Easter weekend for his actual birthday, they bumped up the party and Luke got to participate in another first.... his first Easter egg hunt! He was into it for the first five minutes, and then once we got towards the drive - way the cars were more alluring and he lost interest in finding some silly ole eggs. Then we all went inside to open presents, and Luke decided it was melt down time. In all fairness, it was an hour past nap time and I did DRAG him away from almost playing in the street. I'm so mean, I don't know how he stands it. Unfortunantly I (suprise suprise) forgot my camera, but luckily John got a few pictures of Luke and just posted them to Facebook. And this one was before lunch and the egg hunt and presents when the kids were just running around playing. There was a super fun fort in the back yard! Once the melt - downs started I hauled Luke home and handed him off to Cody for a nap. Then I went to Target SOLO. And I got........ a purse. On clearence! I only paid $17 for it! Whoo hoo! Now I know just the other day I was saying how I didn't need a purse because it was basically an adult diaper bag and I wanted to get rid of all baggage, but they just kept calling to me. I have been obsessively looking at purses on Etsy and I was thisclose to buying on one from this lady or maybe the blue flora from this lady, but then I realized I could have instant gratification if I bought one here in town. Plus as a bonus I saved a ton of money (which I used to buy Luke a new shirt, on clearence also, and two new pairs of flip flops, and his Easter basket stuffers). Also, I've been obsessed with staring at Luke's new bedding and some new cowboy boots for this fall. I know, I know, it will be MONTHS before we bump up Luke's bed and he needs new bedding, but a girl can dream right? I'm pretty sure I'm going to go with this quilt (oooooo, or this one) and the rest of the room will be vintage cowboy decorations. And I'm waiting until close to fall for his new boots so the sizing will be more accurate. I'm starting to save now! The Jehovah's Witness ladies came back today. At first I didn't know who it was. The boys were down for their naps, I was about to hop in the shower, and the dog starts barking. Of course I start whispering threats to her that within an inch of her life to STOP BARKING, all while hiding from who ever was on the other side of the door. Of course one of the boys woke up. At first I was angry. Any mom who had finally achieved peace and quiet only to have it cruelly and suprisingly taken away can identify with this one. How dare they ring my door bell during nap time?! Don't they know anything?! I got myself so worked up I had half a mind to go after them. Then I heard them talking behind the door. I heard one of them say "I guess she's not home. Let's head back to the car." Then I felt guilty. These ladies, however misguided they are, truly feel like they are doing what God is calling them to do. And there I was hiding out and refusing to answer the door. Even though it's my door, my house, and I have the right to not answer the door if I don't want to. And I found this. I felt HORRIBLE. It was the same sweet lady who helped me last time. Yeah, I know she just wanted to convert me, because I'm not the |
18 | 1 | 'right' kind of Jesus - lover, but still. She was so nice. So if anyone is interested in getting involved with the JW here in town, I think Gloria would gladly tell you all about it. I, however, will be attending my own church on Easter. The church I attend every Sunday. For the last 20 years. Except while I was in college, living in another town. Yesterday was a perfect day. The kind of day romanticised about in the minds of anyone who is not actually a stay at home mom. We stayed in bed until 9. I was able to enjoy the DVR and coffee until 10. We went to the park from 10: 30 to 12. I got to pick up something for lunch on the way home. Everyone went down for a nap quickly and I got to eat lunch in solitude with a book (and Luke ate his sandwich quickly before nap time!). After nap we spent the rest of the afternoon in the backyard before getting Wing Stop for dinner. The only snaffu was when Luke found a pink highlighter. And painted his face with it. I was so glad that it came off relatively easily, once I got past the flailing arms and bucking head. Having a great day yesterday didn't set today up for much success. I got spoiled by no whinning. So when Luke decided it was okay to get up at 7, I was a little dissapointed. And when he decided to make it a long morning where nothing was going his way, he was dissapointed and made sure there were enough tears to let me know it. Another big milestone did happen today though..... Luke has learned to open doors. No more are the days of safety where simply closing a door will do the trick. Now I'm going to have to go get some of those annoying door knob covers to put everywhere. Ug, I hate those. So now Luke gets time out when he goes in Daddy's room (aka - the computer room where he gets up and pushes all the buttons on it). Tonight he went in there while Cody was on the comptuer, and before I could stop myself I said "You know you're not supposed to be in here. You know you get time out when you do." And my sweet sweet boy ran off down the hall and plopped himself in his time out spot, no fits or crying or anything. Oh I just wanted to hug him. But I was strong and set the timer (even though I hadn't really meant for him to actually have a time out). Don't tell him, but just this time I set the timer for just a few seconds instead of the whole minute. I couldn't bear to do it. Maybe my day was just a little pessimistic due to all the cholesterol I consumed yesterday. Not only did I have the world's worst healthiest food for you for dinner - wings and fries, but I had Jack - in - the - Box for lunch. I had not eaten at either of those places in YEARS, and I could practically hear my arteries gearing up for the war I launched on them. That and all of my jeans groaning at the thought of the strain that will be placed on them in the next few weeks as I convince myself that they will still fit with 30 extra pounds hanging around my middle. I could have made up for it today, chosen really good eating choices for my self. Nah. I thought chicken nugget shaped patties (that's what the bag says!), Bagel Bites, and mac 'n' cheese sounded better. Posted by First off, I want to say PRAISE JESUS for the beautiful weather that came back today. Yes, we may have had snow on the ground yesterday morning, but that was a distant memory today as my curtains fluttered in the mild breeze of a lower 70's day. The sun was a beautiful thing. (and just so you know, today is the kind of day that is a perfect example of why I keep my camera in my pocket at home) This morning as I was making my bed, I realized that my shadow wasn't there handing me pillows and "fluffing" them (smacking the middle really hard). I wrapped up the chore alone and went in search of him. He met me in the hallway looking like this. (okay, so you can't see really well in the picture, but his face is covered with crumbs) You see, I made a rookie mistake today. I had been storing an extra cake from yesterday on the washing machine and today when I started laundry I absently mindedly put it on the kitchen table. And someone found it when Momma wasn't looking. I clean it all up and get out the ironing. I didn't do any ironing last week, and poor Cody only had one ironed shirt to choose from this morning. Oops! I get the board out, set it up, then get the clothes out and lay them down, THEN go get the iron. This way no one gets curious about the dangerous appliance while my back is turned. When I return to the room I see this. One child working up |
18 | 2 | a fuss to get OFF of the floor, one child making a mess to play ON the floor, and a dog on my clean laundry. At least this time she was semi clean, unlike last time. So I got all settled in and started to iron. Luke is running around like a mad man, and he eventually finds my thermometer. As I'm ironing, I look around me and see this. Did you know walls needed their temperature taken? Then later Luke was eating lunch (yes, this was all before lunch) and I started emptying the dishwasher. Who needs to eat peanut butter and jelly when there are dishes to put away? They were all the dessert plates and cups and saucers from the shower so I was a little nervous about him handling my Fiesta Ware. But he handed me the plates very nicely. When we got to the top rack where the cups were, he stood on his very tippy toes to get one of the teacups out. Then he takes off running. Panicked, I follow him. But look what he was doing! Do I have me a smart boy or what? I didn't have the heart to take it out and put it up in the cabinet where it really belonged right there in front of him, so I just gave him a high five and told him thank you and moved it during nap time. I love that kid. So I'm feeling a bit sheepish over my drama - queen like post yesterday about making the cake. Yes it was frustrating, but I am so blessed to have amazing friends in my life who gushed over it. They are so sweet and made me feel better. There were about 30 ladies who came out to bless Sara and baby Ryan with some love. We all had a fantastic afternoon of fellowship and food. The recipe for a perfect party! And without further ado..... (hung on the wall beside the dining room table, there are close ups of some of the things down below, but I didn't get a close up of the bag. I am mad that I forgot! Maybe the next time I go over there I'll ask her if I can take one.) So today was supposed to be a relaxing day. Yesterday I spent the entire day cleaning my house, with the windows open and the music blaring. It was a gorgous sunny day, high in the mid 70's. Luke slept until 9 and we had fun playing after I was done. Today he woke up at 7: 45. To the rain. The very cold rain. I figured I would bake my cake, dust, and sit and drink lots of coffee. About 10 I started to bake the cake. It was then that I realized I had no butter. I called Mom and she brought me some, along with extra chairs and a table cloth (I'm throwing a baby shower tomorrow, did I tell you?). Finally about 12: 30 I got to start. I needed to make two cake mixes worth, so by the time both sets got baked and cooled, it was about 4: 30 before I could start decorating. That's when I realized I had two different kinds of icings. * sigh * Looks like we had to go to the store anyway. I needed to take a shirt back that I bought on Thursday because it was too small, and the store is out by one of the Walmarts here in town. I think to myself "I'll get the icing and more butter at Walmart and take the shirt back, and then I'll be caught up with errands." So I got Luke and I dressed warmly, because the temperature was dropping, and drove over to Walmart. We had to park in the farthest away spot. It was so cold that I carried him like an infant in my arms and RAN up the parking lot to the store. Frigid. And guess what? They didn't have the icing I wanted. I was so irritated. I bundle Luke up in my arms and RAN back to the car with SNOWFLAKES swirling around. You heard me. Snow. Flakes. So we go and take my shirt back, and then run into Tom Thumb. Good ole faithful Tom Thumb. They had what I needed. We get home, and I start icing the cakes. I even out the bottom half of the bottom layer, and starting spreading on the chocolate icing. Except everytime I moved the knife to spread it, the cake fell apart a little bit more. I ended up with this. I was so upset that at one point I may have actually jumped up and down several times screaming, sufficiently scaring my child. Out raged we headed BACK to the store to get another cake mix, more eggs, and an extra can of icing just in case. By 6: 30 I'm mixing up a third cake. An hour later I can start the icing expedition again. I WILL NEVER BAKE A CAKE FOR AN EVENT AGAIN. I am too much of a perfectionist, too self conscious, too....... Lindsey.......... to do this again. I am disappointed at how it turned out, |
18 | 3 | but I'm a little stuck. It's lop sided and I couldn't get the icing as smooth as I wanted. Part of the white piping is shaky, and trying to deal with Luke during all of this was the most frustrating thing I've done in a long time. I know that Sara will love it tomorrow, but I just know how some of the other ladies are when they leave. "Did you see the way it leaned?" "That cake was pitiful, you could totally tell it was homemade." I may not ever find out what they say, but I know that things will be said so it's hurtful all the same. But like I said, I'm stuck. I'll contemplate putting pictures up tomorrow. And I know I shouldn't care what other people think, but whatever. On a brighter note, I got to use my great grandmother's cake plate! I've had it for years and never got to use it. Isn't it beautiful? Also, today was the first day of spring. As I've previously mentioned, yesterday was absoluetly perfect, and today the temperature totally bottomed out. In fact, about 8: 30 tonight I took this from the back door. Amazing, huh? I blame myself really. I switched out Luke's entire wardrob on Thursday to summer clothes and packed up all of his winter things. So it's all my fault, I'm the one who jinxed the weather. Also I'm guessing you are probably wondering where Cody was in all of this today. Well, I didn't want to say anything (you know, in case crazy robber / murderers take the time to stop by and read this and know where I live), but Cody's been out of town since Wednesday afternoon. He was going to leave straight from work, but if you remember he forgot something and gave me a little scare. He went on his annual BFF trip with Dillon to South Padre and they are on their way back. Not a moment too soon either, I obviously needed my partner today! I even tried to make a fire for myself tonight, but lets just call that a FAIL. And now for maybe my most random observation in awhile, but (don't judge) I've got Golden Girls on in the back ground while I type, and a very young George Clooney is on this episode! Who knew? Posted by Mom, Luke, and I went shopping this morning. I laid out all of the summery clothes in size 24 months that we have bought here and there on sale and took note of all the holes. The child had 5 pairs of plaid shorts, and only 2 of them had polos to go with them. He had no denim and no khaki shorts or pants. So the shopping was on. He is now competely decked out, and no one better ever buy him another polo until he grows into the next size. I think we topped out at 13. I'm also a little ashamed to admit that we bought him....... * gasp *....... basketball shorts. But they are ONLY for nap time. Yesterday's diaperless fiasco (again) led Mom to a great revelation. Why not buy him something super comfortable to nap in that will make the diaper inaccessable? Brilliant. So now Luke owns a little piece of sports ware, and it was not a moment to soon. When I came home and tried to put him donw for a nap, guess what happened again. Yep. As soon as I left it was off with the diaper. Only this time I came in armed with the shorts and successfully navigated a fully diapered nap. After I was sure he was asleep I hit the front lawn again. Two bags of weeds later, I think I'm done for awhile. Mom and Dad brought a pizza over for dinner, and they could tell that the lawn was MUCH better. I think I can handle a bunch of church ladies coming over on Sunday for a baby shower. I was just so embarrassed. Also, I didn't want anyone to think poorly of Cody. I know we may not be in the best place marital wise, but I still don't want anyone to think that Cody is falling down on his lawn care job. Plus as a bonus my toes are now nice and tan from three days of working in the sun with flip flops on. Posted by This morning Mom and Dad took me and Luke and Grandmother (my grandmother) to the Dallas Arboretum. I can't believe we've lived here for 20 years and never been there before. It was B. E. A. U. T. I. F. U. L. So serene. There were parts of it that totally made me feel like a princess in a royal palace garden. Then it made me want to be a princess so I could have a royal palace garden. I don't know how anyone could not be happy or not love God with every ounce of being in that place. I did get a few pictures, more than I normally get when we are out and about, but my poor baby hates getting his picture taken. Hates it |
18 | 4 | . I think he just doesn't like to be told where to stand or made to be still. He is one busy kid. He dozed for a few minutes on the way home, and I knew that would ruin the chances of him taking a nap at home. But, I tried none the less. We got home and I promptly took off his shoes and pants, changed his diaper, and put him to bed. 30 minutes later he was still babbling away so I went into check on him. His socks, paci, and diaper were on the floor. And his quilt was wet. Awesome. So I put a fresh diaper on him, grabbed a pair of shorts out of the drawer below the change table, and put him back in bed. Then I went out front to work on the other half of the lawn. I had pulled three trash bags full of weeds when I heard a rattling at the front door. I look up, and there is Luke. My first thought was "Oh crap. He climbed / fell / busted out of his crib. What am I going to do." Then as I walked up the side walk to the door I see Daisy. I had left her out back so she wouldn't distract or wake up Luke by begging at the front door. My next thought was "Oh nice. He's been out of bed long enough to let the dog back in." Then I saw a man standing behind them and I screamed. Then I realized it was Cody. He was supposed to be at work, but had run home because he had forgotten something. Instead of telling me he was home, he heard the baby still babbling and got him up. And he laughed and laughed at me for screaming. A few mPosted by That was the theme of today. Mostly. This morning we were supposed to have our first play date at the park, and what did it decide to do last night? Rain. And get cold. So I sent out an emergency email and had the girls bring everyone over here. It worked out great! I needed to get some stuff done around the house, so that kicked me into high gear, and then I didn't have to think about it all afternoon! I had a great time visiting and the kids played well together. Lots of sharing toys, shrieks, and snacks. Then I put Luke down for a nap and Mom and Dad came over to babysit, because Momma had some appointments. At 2 I got a pedicure at this new place that was amazing. All the fancy treatments for only $25. Does it get any better? Oh wait. It does. Aftewards I went to Target for a few things we needed, and a few things we didn't need. Like me a new dress. I tried on a few, and luckily they didn't fit right (whew, then I didn't have to choose which one I wanted or feel dissapointed about not getting it) so it made the one I purchased all the more better. While I was there, these two teenage girls wearing mismatched clothing, tiara's, and sharing an ipod were marching around the store singing at the tops of their lungs. Seriously? It just made me so glad to not be a teenager. Not to feel like singing in Target was the only way to get attention. Not to giggle idiotically while doing something stupid and thinking "I'm so cool." Ugg. I pity them. But, we've all done ridiculous things in the name of adolescence, and so I'm just chalking it up to that. Also as I was perusing the isles of dear old Target, I came to the purses. I'm not sure how I feel about purses for myself. As Luke is getting older we are needing the diaper bag less and less. And as I looked at these beautiful, colorful, LARGE purses, I couldn't help but wonder, are purses really just adult diaper bags? And now that I'm finally able to give it up, am I really able to move on to something that only looks grown up on the outside yet inside would function aThen I went to get my hair cut. Can you believe it's been A YEAR since I've had a hair cut? I know, I know. I just never got around to it, I don't really care about it, and I hated to spend money on it. So that adds up to only getting an anual haircut. And today was the day. But it really went in with the theme of pampering, because the lady washed and rubbed my head, gave me a haircut that I love, and then styled it in a way that I don't mind having for the rest of the day. Have you ever gotten a hair cut and then had to come home and redo the style because what the lady did is not EVER how you would go out in public? I have. Whether it's too much product, too much volume, or too curly, I've had to come home and wash it and fix it again. Not this time. I love it! And what's more, Cody loves it! He came in and IMMEDIATELY noticed |
18 | 5 | , even though I didn't get much cut off. And then he told me I looked super hot.:) Oh yeah. So tonight he took me out to dinner. Luke was still with Nana and Papa from his afternoon of fun. I wore my new dress, my new hair, and my new toe nail polish to the Yellow Rose Steakhouse. If you live around here DON 'T go there. The food was waaaaaaaaaaaay over priced, dry, and the service was horrible. Horrible. I'm still waiting for more bread. But at least I got to spend the evening with my man, and looked cute doing it. Have you ever wondered why it is so hard to roll out of bed the later you sleep? I totally had that problem today. Luke woke up at 8: 15 and talked for a few mintues, then all was quiet. Then a little while later he talked some more, and all was quiet. He really let me know about 8: 45 that he was done with the whole bed thing, but I just couldn't get up. I made him stay there until 9 when I finally got up, and even then I fixed him breakfast and immediatly laid on the couch while he ate. Until I got strawberry juicy fingers on my shoulder tapping me awake. Mmmmmmm..... toddler food fingers. Later on in the morning he started building pillow mountains in the bedroom and falling over into them, so we played a game where we counted "Ooooooone...................... Twoooooo.................. Threeeeeeeeeeee.......... Gooooo!" and we would fall over and giggle giggle giggle. Oh to be in the mind of a 20 month old. This afternoon we got out and did a couple of errands. His nose has been on a pretty constant drip the last week, so I got him some allergy meds today and I'm hoping that clears it up. Tonight was WWIII trying to get it down him so it better be worth it. We also went to the grocery store and I think I may finally be stocked up on stuff for a while. It's been awhile since we've been that way due to my forgetfulness of what we need when I'm actually at the store. Then I got out in the front yard and started pulling weeds. I got two HUGE trash bags full, and I'm happy to say I did make a dent. I got about 85% of one side of the yard done, so while it looks a little uneven, I'm okay with it. Maybe in the next day or so I can get out and work on the other side. We absolutely have the worst lawn on our street. I'm just hoping this feeble attempt to right our embarrasing wrong appeases the neighbors and they don't ban together and put a flaming bag of poo on our front porch for being THAT LAWN on the street. So let me start back on Friday morning. Friday morning was like any other morning. We got up, ate breakfast, and played. Luke was playing in the living room so I went back to my room and made the bed. As I finished making the bed I turned around and there was Luke. Naked. As I gasped loudly I scooped him up and quickly ran to dress him again, lest he pee pee everywhere. The rest of the morning went normally. We ate lunch on time. I put him down for a nap on time. Cody comes home in the middle of nap time and Luke is STILL talking in bed. Just jibber jabbering away. Cody can't stand the thought of him being awake and just sitting in bed, so he goes into his room. What is Luke doing? Standing in bed. Naked. Again. No wonder the child wasn't asleep. I didn't see any big wet spots around as we were howling with laughter and putting clothes back on him. * whew! * Then we got packed up, because we were driving to College Station for a wedding, and I figured that it was okay that he didn't get a nap since we would be in the car for 3 hours. He could just sleep on the way, right? Wrong. The trip ended up taking 4 hours and he didn't sleep a wink. No big deal, he wasn't in a bad mood and so I just thought, "Well, when we get to the rehersal dinner I'll get some food, sit him in my lap, and he can go to sleep while I eat. Then he won't be running around and be a huge distraction. This could work." Good plan right? Wrong. Still didn't sleep. He didn't end up sleeping until we got to Cody's aunt and uncle's house late that night. This child was awake from 7: 45 to 10: 30 without being in an awful mood at all. It was a Christmas miracle. Except it wasn't Christmas. Saturday morning he woke up at his normal time, 7: 30, and while I was |
18 | 6 | bummed to not get to stay in Phyllis' comfy bed later than that, I was hoping this would mean Luke would stay on some type of schedule. I was right. In fact, he even let me put him down for his nap an hour early and he still passed out as soon as I left the room. Which was good, because he only got about 1 1 / 2 hours of sleep before I had to wake him up to go to the wedding. Our friend of ours that we grew up with, Alan, got married to a lovely girl, Lisa. It was a beautiful outdoor wedding. I had never been to one of those! Cody and I had a great time catching up with lots of old friends, and Luke had a ball running around the grounds with Grandad chasing him (we drove up with Cody's parents). I even let Luke bust out his Easter outfit, and he was the cutest kid at the whole shin - dig. (due to his rather short neck, you can't really see his tie, but he has one on in there) (the closest I got to a family picture. I was mad at myself for forgetting to get one! But you know me. I got caught up in the event and forgot to take pictures.) After it was over we hit the road again to come home. I figured after running around the entire afternoon Luke would sleep in the car ride home, right? WRONG! Holy moly that kid didn't even doze off once in all the hours we were in the car. I guess there were too many airplanes to spot or clouds to stare at. We got home at 10: 15 last night, so I just washed his hair quickly (come on, he had been out side and today was church day) and put him to bed. When I went to check on him later he hadn't moved from the spot I laid him in. And the poor kid had to be woken up to go to bible class this morning. Tonight instead of small groups, the few of us that were still in town due to spring break met at the park and just had fun. The weekend of sleep deprivation caught up to us though, and by 6: 30 we were headed home due to major meltdowns. Now all is quiet in the Carver house.:) Ahhhhh...... All in all we had a fantastic weekend. It was so nice not to have to drive to College Station, and I always enjoy staying with Ray and Phyllis. As we were leaving Phyllis even gave me an extra copy of Beth Moore's new book! I was thrilled and I can't wait to start it. It deals with insecurity and I'm sure Miss Beth will have lots of things for me to learn in it. It was so sweet of her! I believe I will end this weekend with some quality time with the DVR. A new episode of Who Do You Think You Are was on Friday night, and I am interested to see where Emmit Smith came from.... After breakfast this morning I let Daisy outside and went to check on Kayden (who had passed out in Luke's bed. I laid K in there to take L out and change his diaper, by the time I got back to K he was already asleep.) He was still asleep. Then I realized Daisy was inside. With my head hanging I remembered that I didn't lock the door after letting her outside and SOMEONE figured it out. In his p. j.'s. With no shoes on. In the mud from the rain yesterday. (and no, that's not grass, all the green you see are WEEDS. What in the world am I going to do?) On a much more positive note, Dawn from ECI came today and while we were playing Luke kept saying "yuck" when getting a toy, and she said he was saying "look"! A new word! It totally makes sense, and my education background should have given me the clue that lots of kids say / y / for / l / (like some kids switch / w / for / l /. My best friend when I was little couldn't say her L's, so I was Windsey Wittle.) I'm going to be watching out for more phonem switches like this to see if he's really saying more than I realize! This morning I was feeling a little kicky, so I made cinnamon rolls for breakfast. At first Luke just licked the icing off and said "Mmmmmmm!" after eat finger full, but then he finally started taking bites. He got icing everywhere. After breakfast I cleaned him up and moved on to sort the laundry, when I hear lots of giggling. Finally I went in search for him and found him with the camera, which I had mistakenly left on the table. He figured out how to turn it on, and how to take pictures. He took 49, yes, 49 pictures that all look like this. And this. Later, after naptime, I loaded up Luke and Kayden into the car and we took a field trip to Sonic for my Dr. Pepper, and the |
18 | 7 | grocery store. It was such an absolutely gorgeous day that I thought Lukie needed a treat, so I bought him his very first apple juice slushie from Sonic. I waited until we got to the grocery store to give it to him, lest it all end up on his shirt and pants in the car, and he was in HOG HEAVEN. That kid did not let the straw come out of his mouth the entire trip. He nursed it all the way home and when we got inside. Love it. This face totally says "Hey, I know what that thing does, lemme play with it! I love that camera thing!" No, son. No. (and don't you just love him in flip flops. I LOVE them!) Then we went out back and he would take a drink, set it down to run off, but then come right back for it. Kayden watch the birds fly by in his car seat while I pulled three trash bags of weeds and you can't even tell I was out there. I'm afraid of two things..... # 1 that we will still have out of control weeds this year even though I've pre treated for them and # 2 that my back will be useless tomorrow due to an inordinate amount of time bent over pulling them today. Only time will tell for both. Oh man, it has rained for the last two days straight pretty much. Finally this evening it stopped, and it was lovely outside! I ran to the grocery store about 5, and half of the sky was grey, half was bright blue. So dramatic! Usually you see the clouds thinning and eventually they are gone, but not this time. The cloud just..... stopped. And it was blue sky and sunshine. Very odd. But the temperature was perfect and the smell was delicious. That's something you don't get too much in the wet winter weather, the heavenly aroma of damp earth. On a completely random note, this afternoon I watched The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Oh. My. Goodness. That was an experience. And I do not get why it's such a big deal. Is it because they cross dressed before it was more socially acceptable? Is it because they treat sex like it's no big deal? I don't know, but it was just odd. At least I can say I've watched it now, but it was probably a first and last time kind of deal. I wonder if Susan Sarandon is mortally embarrassed to have been in it. This afternoon the preschool at our church had their annual fundraising auction. Mom and Dad and Ashley took Luke up there for a little while and I did some errands in the mean time kid free before meeting up with them. Did you hear that? KID FREE. That meant lunch. KID FREE. Any mom will tell you this is a magical thing. I love my husband. I love my son. But sometimes a girl just needs to be ALONE. Not on a date. Not on mom duty. Alone. So with this wonderful chance I took myself to Which Wich, and it came with a highly dissapointing suprise. They didn't have Dr. Pepper. They had........ * GAAAAAAAASP * Mr. Pibb. Uggggggggg, is there anything worse than that? Where are we, England? I couldn't believe that there was a food establishment in Texas that did not serve Dr. Pepper. It's like saying, "Hey I know that you ordered Sprite, but here is some water. It's the same since they're both clear, right?" Oh, so not right. But I suffered through the beverage for my rather taste sandwich. Then I spent the entire rest of the day cleaning. Remember how I said I need something highly motivating to get me to clean? Well, small groups is at my house tomorrow night, and people keep emailing me saying they can come. We have a pretty..... cozy....... house, and so far we've got 20 adults and 10 kids coming, and I haven't even heard from everyone. No need to sit down when you're standing shoulder to shoulder. This morning I was able to face the music and start the ole clean up process on the house. First task on the list, was the dining room table so that I could push the computer to the middle of the table out of someone's reach. But that someone got a little desperate for buttons and that lead to this. * sigh * What am I going to do with him? Also in the midst of my cleaning I finally recovered my ottomans. Well, recovered one, it took so long that I'm putting the other one off until tomorrow. The new material is the black and white. I'm not sure if I like it, it seems to be a little boring. But the red and white was sooooooo nasty dirty from a little boy's cup / yogurt / food fingers / drool that I couldn't stand it any more. Okay, now I really do have to brag on my boy. I know that mostly all I |
18 | 8 | talk about is how much of a mess Luke is, but he really is a sweet sweet boy. Tonight Cody went out to dinner and a game with some of his friends (one is getting married next weekend) so Luke took me out on a date. See? Sweet boy. He took me to Cracker Barrel and he was a PERFECT gentleman. No fits, no screaming, no fighting me tooth and nail. We had a lovely dinner. Only one little faux pas when he beltched like there was no bodies busisness, but I thought it was hysterical and I was actually sad I was the only one who got to witness it. I love my kid! We all know children copy their parents. We all know they like to shadow. My shadow has picked up on a few things. Maybe that's how he knew to lock the door. Or blow his nose. Now he's a pro at sewing..... Oh who am I kidding. It's a fluke. He's also watched me empty dishwasher enough to know where things go (as well as play with all my pans enough to remember where he got those big flat metal toys). When it's time to put the dishes away, first he will put up his spoons, then any cookie sheets and pots and pans. That's all the things that are located on ground level, so after that he just hands me plates and cups and stuff. One things he does that he is NOT copying from me is laying on the floor, screaming, and thrashing all body parts around to protest the "no" I just told him. It's lovely. Where do kids get that from? I mean, the stamping of the feet and screaming, I get that. Heck. I still do that. But the full out tantrum on the floor? Come on kid. Posted by At about 9: 45 this morning we were up, Luke had eaten breakfast and was playing, I was eating my pancakes and getting caught up on the computer. There was a knock at the door. It was Jehovah's Witnesses (ladies this time, I've never seen lady JW before) and Luke and I hid while the dog barked at them. You know, her YIP YIP YIP. They left, we went back to what we were doing, and I had a post brewing in my head about why do I feel guily about not answering the door when it's MY house? It's my choice right? But that's not what I'm here to tell you about. A good hour later I realize that the day is going to get pretty warm, so I need to go out to the garage and look at the pre - emergent fertilizer that I bought yesterday, lest I wait to long, it not be effective, and we've got weedapallooz again this year. I tried to get Luke to put his shoes on so he could play in the backyard while I figured out how to work this stuff, but he wouldn't so I made him stay inside. Now before you get all "CPS! CPS! Child left unattended!" I was only going out to read the directions of what do to, therefore only going to be gone a couple of minutes. As soon as I shut the back door behind me Luke tried his darn best to get that door open by twisting the door knob. Guess what I forgot was on the door knob? A push lock. Do you see where I'm going with this? After a couple of minutes of reading the directions on the fertilizer pagkage, I get a game plan in my head of how to attack the lawn and try to get back inside. The door is locked. Locked. From the inside. Where my child is. Alone. My mind went blank and then started racing. What do I do? Where do I go? Who do I call? What do I call on? Will anyone be home? I didn't have my cell phone, therefore I knew not a one phone number. I know pretty much all of my neighbors are at work. Finally I run next door to try and start the knocking process, when who do I see? The Jehovah's Witness ladies. Oh man, I'm gonna have to ask them for help, aren't I Lord? He said yes. So I did. I sucked it up and asked them if they had a cell phone. Of course they were nice as could be and handed one right over. But then I told them I was locked out, my 20 month old was in there, and I had no idea who to call. Then one of the ladies asked if it was a push lock or a dead bolt. I said push lock, and she said she knew how to jimmy it open with a credit card. WHAT. You've got to be kidding. She said she got locked out of her house not too long ago and she managed to get back in this way. So we all trooped back to the garage and after jiggling and pushing and scraping for several long minutes (and chit chatting with the other lady, because really, what was I to do?), she GOT IT OPEN. And |
18 | 9 | there was my child, laughing at the big panicky game he had created. Then we all hugged, they gave me their book, and were on their way. Maybe they were sent to my neighborhood this morning to convert someone, or maybe they were just sent to help a poor helpless soul back into her house. Either way, the only injury sustained was by my pancake plate, which I had left on the computer desk and SOMEONE was trying to be sneaky and play on the computer while Momma was no where to be found. (yes, that's strawberry syrup everywhere) And if you are wondering where Kayden was today his momma was fortuantly / unfortunantly sick today so his grandma was at his house taking care of them. Good thing, cause I have no idea how I would have explained that to her. Also, I have a plan formed of how to avoid this for next time, but like I'm gonn tell you! You might break in my house! The last time I made an embellished onesie it seemed like the needles was tearing little holes in the fabric. It was almost like it was dull or too big. I've had it in the back of my head ever since then that I wanted to go and get a smaller needle for such projects, but I kept putting it off because I didn't want to deal with trying to find one for such an old machine and I didn't want to pay $20 (because that's how much I assumed they would be without any basis in fact) and I felt overwhelmed with trying to figure out how to actually do the the switch once I obtained the needle. Plus I just kept forgetting to go to Handcock's. I finally worked up the nerve today. There was only one choice - standard size. They were cheap - $2. 49 for FOUR needles. And it said clearly on the front "for lightweight fabric". What?!?! How in the world did I blow this so out of proportion? I took my selections up to the lady and started asking her my questions. My first one was to confirm that the needles do in fact go dull. The lady actually laughed at me. She said of course they go dull, she replaces her's every couple of weeks. Again, I say What?!?! I must be sewing with a spoon by now. No wonder I had holes. And then I asked if it would be tricky to replace the existing needle. She said all you did was screw it in. Are you kidding? That's it? And she was right. There is a little screw in the side of the needle holder and you just unscrew it, slide the old one out and the new one in, then tighten the screw. Ta da! I couldn't believe how dramatic I had made the whole thing in my head. I'm now equipt with the knowledge of how to replace a possibly too dull sewing machine needle. So have no fear, I will never sew with a spoon again. Posted by So over the weekend I had a major attack of the allergies. If you live in Texas, you kind of can't avoid it, but this weekend was extra bad. Like Saturday night I only got 1 1 / 2 hours of sleep and went through an entire roll of toilet paper. Today my nose is stopped up, but my energy has yet to kick back in. But did Luke get the memo? Of course not. At this very moment, as I type, he is doing short bursts of SCREAMING at the top of his lungs from his bed. And he's been in there for at least 30 minutes. This afternoon I caught him with my box of kleenex's. He was pulling out a tissue, blowing his nose in it, throwing it down, and getting another. I think he went through about 10 tissues before I got them away from him. You know you've been blowing your nose a lot when a 20 month old can do it. Did you catch that? My baby is 20 months old! I can't believe in 4 short months I'll have a 2 year old. Holy moly. Have I really been doing this mom thing for that long? Am I an old pro yet? Can you be an old pro with only one kid? Somehow I feel like I'm not quite a mom - ish as other moms who have mulitple kids. Like only having one is sissy stuff and the real old pro's have 3 or 4 kiddos running around. And now I hear my kid let out another scream, and I'm thinking I'll stick with the sissy stuff for awhile. Posted by I am a mother to one sweet boy, a lively girl, and a baby girl. We are a small family of four that live to make each other happy and serve our Lord daily. Here is life as I know it. (and I also tweet @ lindseycarver. A lot.) |
19 | 0 | It's foggy. I can barely remember yesterday or the week before. I remember it eventually but it takes more work than it should to remember something that happened not too long ago. My body feels foreign. I am a foreigner in my own body. Nate said I spent most of yesterday, either staring at the wall or laughing while I looked at my hands. Either way, he said that I was unresponsive. So, I really have no idea what the fuck happened to me. Must have zoned out for a long time, didn't I? Anyways, I'm tired as fuck, and hungry. Dammit. Yesterday was Thanksgiving and I missed it. I wanna eat some turkey. Sorry if I made any of you peeps worried. Peeps. Oh, how I love those delicious peeps. With their marshmellowly goodness. So hungry right now. I can't really remember what I did while I was gone. I walked around for a bit, and sat down for a bit. I think I slept under one of those highway bridges. Kobalos, it has almost been three days and you still haven't come back. If you've walked through one of those doors I swear I'll make you regret it. I punched a monster - child in the face for crying outloud. I'm probably going to have to give that kid a feast. He must be hungry right now. I am Nate, for the people that don't know me. It seems that Kobalos has been blogging about his experiences. I also found out about these other "little" creatures. Just what everyone needs. Oh joy... Anyways, I would take what Kobalos said with a grain salt. It's not that he's a liar, but he tends not to tell the whole truth. Then again, everyone does that, especially whenever they talk about themselves. He didn't just waltz up to me and introduced himself and then started asking me questions. He is a lot more shyer than that. No, he just mumbled "Hello," and went to go get a drink of water. It wasn't until a few hours later, as I was reading some book, out of boredom, that he decided to ask me questions. I'll wait for him. He'll come back. He always does. I have quite a few of them. Mental and physical. The Rake only caused a few of the physical. I remember waking up with cuts on my arms. Whenever things got hetic or whenever I couldn't handle life, I would pick at those cut. I was too weak to take life like a "man". My life wasn't that hard. I was just too weak to handle it. And I was ashamed of myself because of how weak I was. An example of me being: my mom would get mad and she would scold me over a misunderstanding. Since I was so weak, I took whatever she said too hard?, deep? I... she just got mad like every other mom did and she did what she had to do. And there was the other person, but it could have been worse. Besides, I allowed him to do that thing with me. I was too weak to stop him. So I fled. I fled from him, I fled from mom, I fled from life and my feelings. I hid within myself because of how weak I was. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I realized something. I haven't been writting my dreams down. I should do that. I wonder if my family even noticed that I was gone. I wonder if they are worried sick about me. I wonder if they are happy or sad that I'm gone. Have they called the police? Are they waiting for my return home? Are they even still alive? No, I mustn't think that. Once this is all over, I can go home, and we can be happy. Nate can be happy. I was really hoping to go to college. Once this is over, I can go back to school, and the go to college and get a degree. I am sorry if this post seems a bit off. I just very tierd. even my spelling and grammar are going doewnhill. goodnight. ~ there's some weird show on. goodnight Well, it turns out that there was a huge hole in our previous hotel wall. I mean really big. That would explain the wooden board that was covering a section of the wall in our bathroom. And here I was freaking out, thinking that the Rake somehow teleported himself in our room. It's a great thing that Nate reminded me of the wooden board. I ran out of the room that night, first I got my stuff. I really need to get my priorities straight. Back to my retelling of what happened that night. Nate was already out of the door. He told me to hurry up before I die. When I got out, he slammed the door shut. I |
19 | 1 | swore I heard it shrieking. It hurt, but it was actually kind of funny. We ran to Nate's car, got in, and for some reason I could not stop laughing. It was like I was in some absurd, deranged comedy movie. I think some of it was pent up nervousness, but laughing? Really Kobalos? Laughing? I have no idea what I was feeling at that time. My emotions were sort of muted and conflicted. I was feeling, but at the same time I was not. This is confusing me. I think it's in the bathroom. Or in the closet. Well, we're getting the fuck outta here. Gonna go get my bag and let's leave. Nate's already out the door. I hear something shrieking in the bathroom. I hear loud and clear. Damn that hurts. I should probably leave right now. See ya soon. I went for a walk Friday. I would have written about it yesterday, but I was asleep for most of the day. I've been sleeping a lot lately. I got lost in thought. I mean I really got lost in thought, to the point where everything around me in a sense disappeared. They were there, but at the same time they weren't there. I think my mind must have blocked those things out while I was lost in thought. Once out of my thoughts, I found that I have wondered into some people buying / selling drugs. They saw me and started yelling. I must have panicked, whiched caused me to retreat into thought. Their voices were so loud, and yet I didn't understand a word they said. They walked closer to me, and I ran?. I got the hell out off there. Next thing I knew, I was at some restaurant, watching the world past by. I think I must have ran into the restaurant, while I was being chased. I remember running, but not where I was going while I was running. I walked around again, looking for some signs. I didn't asked the waitress what city this was. It must have slipped my mind and when I realized that it was too late. Well, my walk home consisted of me running into some prostitutes. They were nice, but I think one was hitting on me. They helped me out. Nate bought me some candy. He said it's for last night. I looked out the window today. It was a strange and unfamiliar sight. It still is. The streets are so (bleak) full of life. There are people chatting, running, walking, having a great time. The sky looks so grey and the buildings look dull. There is nothing to tell me where I am at. This is a crummy hotel. I think I saw some prostitutes while I was looking out the window. Nate is considering to let me out of the room so I can get fresh air. I hope he lets me out. I write this blog. I believe the correct term is type. Why do I write? It's simply a way for me to get my story out. A rememberence thing. I always prefered the written word to the spoken word. With the written, people can always go back and read it. The spoken word can be tempered with, especially by memory. Memory can disort things, make people believe something different happened. No no, that description does not do it justice. People remember things the way they want to. They misinterpeted words. It is much harder to do that with the written word. At least for me it is. Then again, I've never been good with the spoken word. That was one of the reasons why I felt comfortable with books. I can always go back and read it. They were also my friends when the other kids didn't want to play with me. I can always pretend with books. Pretend that people actually wanted to spend time with me, and that I was some hero. Doesn't every kid have these fantasies? If someone were to tell me their story, I may forget what their story. It is especially frustrating when I never see that person again, and I didn't get to write their story down as they were telling it. (I had to write Nate's story down while he told me it.) Another reason why I write this blog is so that other people will remember me in some form. I don't want to be forgotten. When people forget they leave. Always. They always leave. This has got to be the most boring week ever. I did nothing but stay in the hotel and either slept or go on the internet. Nate wouldn't let me leave the hotel room. He said something about it being "better" this way. Nate, I have school to go to and a family that needs me back. I'm fucking teenager. I need to go to school to get an education, not running, or whatever the hell we're doing. Well, I finally got the whole story from Nate. I know what happened to him, and to Destiny. They were close. Very close. He was emotionally cold toward others. Distant. |
19 | 2 | Destiny thought he was interesting, so she approched him. At first, he thought she was annoying (much like how he viewed me. Thanks for telling me Nate) but she grew on him. Destiny and Nate often spent their days in an abandon building. Nate was a few years older than Destiny. He was twenty - one, while she was nineteen. Both were attending the same college. And both were in the same classes. Destiny and Nate spent their days in an abandoned building because, as Nate said, they wanted to get away from it all. Especially Nate. He thinks that his childhood probably wasn't a happy one. He can't really say, since he can't remember it. And so she went in, and the Door slammed shut. Nate tried opening the Door, but it wouldn't budge. As quickly as the door had appeared, it disappeared. Nate just kidnapped me. Yeah. On the bright side, no school work. On the down side, if I go back to school, I have to catch up with all that work. Stopped at some hotel. Have internet now. I'm going on youtube to watch some videos. Maybe some of those movies. Good thing I had my stuff in my backpack. And by stuff I mean dvds and books. The dvds were in my backpack because I left them there and forgot about them. The books. I like to read. My family. I wonder if they even noticed that I'm gone. They're going to be very sad. Maybe I can ask Nate if he could let me go home. I'm beginning to miss them. Nate, I like you and all, but taking me away from my family is not the way to solve anything. What I mean is, hell. Kidnapping me isn't going to solve anything. I asked him how he kidnapped me and he said chloroform. He kidnapped me right around four, and it's six now. He also said I woke up not too long after he used that chloroform, looked at him, and then went right back to sleep. New try. The room is very small, with two beds, a bathroom, and a small kitchen. The carpet has some stains on it, I believe they're either piss or shit stains. Most likely from an animal, but animals aren't allowed in this hotel. I think. Now there's an image in my head of some dude shitting on the floor. Very odd image indeed. I hate. I hate. Hmmm. The words I want to say, what do I want to type? How my day went? Great. My friends don't remember me, so they should just die. Die. Die? I should just die? Why have friends? They'll just leave me or hate me or die on me. There was the very nice girl and she wanted to play with me. She actually wanted to play with me. Me! Of all people and she chose me. I was never a popular child. Back then, I guess I can say I was an awkward child. I wonder if that's why people bully me. Anyway, she saw me sitting in the corner, staring. I didn't have any friends to play with, so I just retreated into my mind. She came up to me and asked if I wanted to play with her and her friends. I accepted her request, and she help me gain some friends. I was so happy and thankful for that. It wasn't until a few months later that she died. She fucking died. Mommy and daddy told me she moved away. They all moved away. I found out the truth. They were killed. Murdered. I am happy. Don't believe me. See, I am smiling and laughing. Oh wait, you can't see me. Stupid me. Stupid, stupid, stupid me. Can't do anything right. My friends are forgetting me. They make promises to me, but then forget them. They forget my name, or my face. They forget the things I did with them. They forget to help me when I get picked on. They look at me as if I'm a stranger. A stranger. Strange. He's making them forget. And I was so stupid not to realize this. I wrote it off as something else, when in reality, it was Him all along. He is the culprit. For what reason? Hell if I know. My friend doesn't remember me. She used to protect me from those bullies. Now she won't. She sides with them, saying she doesn't even know me. All memories of me ever being her friend has been erased. I have been forgotten by her. They forgot about me. They left me outside, locked the door on me. I screamed and I screamed, banging the door with my tiny fist until they hurt. That monster was out there, I knew it was. I heard scraping, something talking with a raspy voice. It was coming closer and no one would answer the door for me. I was crying. Telling them to please let me in. They did. I |
19 | 3 | ran into the house. My mom said she thought I was already inside the house. How could she not noticed that I was gone? My brothers, I think one was laughing. That made me mad, so I went into my room and slammed the door. Mom got mad and started yelling, screeching at me. That just made me cry more. Gramps is here. What the hell? He shows up after all this time. I'm at the school library. It has less filters than the cafeteria. Oh shit! He noticed me. Just say hi, pretend he's someone you know. Or maybe I can call out "HELP! HE 'S TRYING TO MOLEST ME!" That seems to work in the movies. He's still carrying that dumb book. How many books does he have? He's walking around, hunched. He actually looks like some person that makes cookies for his grandchildren. (I like cookies. Especially chocolate chip cookies. Once I had a roach on my cookie, but I was too hungry to care, so I flicked the roach off and ate my cookie.) Or one of those people who wander around because they forgot who they were. Dementia. He looks so fragile. Not many people give second thought to a fragile looking old man. He can't harm anyone. He's too weak to hurt anyone. It's a lie. He probably knows it. No one thinks about the weird old man who wanders around libraries. One would think that after watching a movie with an evil person who looked harmless, people would be more on guard. Unfortunately, real life does not work out that way. How sad. I am fine everyone. Very fine. Nate is fine as well. He hasn't stepped through any doors, and he certainly isn't dead. I wonder if my school allows blogspot. I should probably check tomorrow. I bring my laptop to school, so at lunchtime, I'm mostly on it. I usually go on TV Tropes, or I just research random things. Mostly murder cases and such. Anyone remember The Black Dahlia. I looked up her pictures on google image and boy, were they creepy. I'm surprised the school allowed those images. Anyone ever heard of Boy in the Box. It was a dead boy is some box. I believe he was a victim of child abuse. I had an encyclopedia on unsolved cases. It was a library book, so I had to return it. I am reminded of other abuse cases. Silvia Likens was tortured by her peers and later died of shock. AJ Schwarz died when his step - mom killed him. That boy was brought out of an abusive household and put in a worse situation. I detest abuse. I just loathe it. I think that's why I want to become an investigator. To help out other people. Although, sometimes I might have to see if a person is being unfaithful, so I may have to tell who ever hired me to not kill their spouse. I don't want to have a guilty conscious. Went hiking yesterday. It was fun. I like hiking and exploring. There were a lot of trees and shrubs. Even though there were many trees, there was barely any shade. My family and I were trying to get to the top of the hill, but because of how hot it was, we ended up going back. We didn't even get to reach the top. Dad said we can try again next time. I also visited Nate today, and yesterday as well. I gave him a soda and a bag of chips. I told him about those creatures and what they were. "Those Doors lead to the Empty City. It's called Empty because if you go in there, you'll be alone. It's always changing, so you'll get lost easily. And it eats its victims." When I said that, he looked mournful. I continued. "That boy you met is The Cold Boy. He freezes people. Makes' em freeze to death." (Ice Lad seems like a good nickname.) I visit Nate everyday. I visit him to make sure he doesn't open a door and go through it. I don't want to lose anyone. Posted by Nate answered the door yesterday. He looked tired. I mean tired. He had bags under his eyes and his gait was wobbly. He was shaking really bad. He said he was sorry for not answering the door but he has been really busy the past few days. I asked him what and he closed the door on my face. I did the only thing I could do. I waited outside until he came out. N: "All I know is that there are doors appearing and whenever one opens the door there's this city. This fucking city. How the hell is that even possible? And Des -" He looked like he was about to say something but he stopped himself. I wonder if something bad happened, so I didn't push it. I can get that information later. I didn't answer him. To say I was happy would be a lie. To say I was unhappy is another lie. I just |
19 | 4 | wanted information. That was all that mattered to me. That is all that matters. Information. I like to gather information. No, there are other things that matter. I think. I'm neither a player (I do play the game, sometimes, but I wouldn't call myself a player. I mostly watch the game.), nor a proxy. I guess you can call me something else, Dia. If you have any questions, ask and I'll answer to the best of my abilities. "Sometimes I don't see it. I can hear it even when I'm sleeping. One time, I heard a song while I was sleeping." "You are here because you broke down crying. Right in the middle of the class. She also said that you seemed to be losing your focus and would zone out at any time. And you would fall asleep when you were supposed to be on task." I can't remember the rest of the conversation. All I remember was being hurt when my councilor didn't believe me. No one believed me about that monster, so I was upset. Angry. I wanted her to hurt. I didn't say anything about it though. I kept it all to myself since I didn't want to bother people. Things were normal for the next couple of days. One day, I found out that the councilor wasn't at school any more. I tried asking the teacher, but she wouldn't answer. She did answer, eventually. Days after the councilor left. She told me that the councilor died. Someone had slit her throat, was what I later found out. Her body had multiple scratches on it. I need. What is it that I need. Sorry, my thoughts seemed to be jumbled. I think I'm hungry. Having little food is not good, but I'm use to it. Sometimes, I don't think I'm real. Like I'm a figment of everyone's imagination. Sometimes, everything just seems so unreal to me. I'd sit in class, and it would feel like a dream. I detest speaking. What's the point if nobody can hear me? Even if I do shout. I prefer writing. Strangely, if it's an wide open space, people seem to hear me. The only people I normally talk to are my family, and Nate. I haven't seen him in while though. I hope he didn't open a door. I plan to visit him tomorrow, and get some more information. I like birds. Just wanted to say that. I mean, they're fascinating, and they can fly. I always wanted to fly an airplane. One of my dream jobs was to be a fighter jet pilot. Unfortunately, according to cracked. com, that job will soon become unavailable. I use to have a pet budgie, but it died a few years ago. It was soooooo talkative and outgoing. It would also try to eat my apples. Yeah. I got a new one. I went to Nate's house again yesterday. I meant to go the day before yesterday, but I got distracted by some trivial things. He was out on his porch and he seemed pretty tired. We talked some more. Mostly about how our day was. He had a nice looking door at the side of his house. How could I not notice that door? It's design was pretty. I wish I had a door like that. Anyhow, I'm not opening it. If I were to open it, I know curiosity would get the best of me, and I might do something regrettable. If a door appears, and it wasn't there before, don't open it. If the SHADOWS flee from the door, don't open it, so I've heard. I told Nate about the door but he said that door just appeared yesterday. Doors keep appearing and disappearing where ever he goes. He's not opening them either. Nate's an okay guy. Dresses in what most people would call rags, and he has unkempt hair, but he's been good so far. I met the man again. This time I was not stalking following him. It was by chance. I was walking around yesterday, like I usually do. We met in front of his house. Now I know where he lives.: D. He asked me if I was following him. I said sort of. I asked him again if he noticed anything strange. He was mostly rambling, but he kept mentioning something about doors and coldness. Actually his whole answer revolved around doors and coldness. If only I can remember his actual words. Curse my auditory forgetfulness and lack of attention when somebody is speaking to me. I just remember him mentioning doors, and not to open them. Also said something about being cold. Then he looked at me and asked me my name. I told him to call me Kobolos. It was either that or Joe John Sebastian. Kobalos was the shortest, albeit odd name. He told me to call him Nate. He also called me pretty damn persistent. I said I'm just bored. He then asked me if I wanted a drink |
19 | 5 | . I declined. What if he poisoned it? Then I'll be dead, or worse. 'Sides, I don't feel comfortable taking stuff from strangers. Even if they mean well. We talked some more. Mostly how the summer has been. He said his summer has been relatively uneventful. As, has mine. Well, I'll be going to school in a couple of weeks, so that might ease the boredom. I can't wait to see my friends. I just remembered that I posses a camera. Too bad there is nothing worth recording at the moment. If I find anything, I'll post it. I know it's going to make me sound like a stalker, but I have been following that man around. I believe he knows that I am following him. He always throws these glances at my direction. I have yet to find out where he lives. He left. He looked like he was in a hurry to leave. If only I could talk to him, then maybe I would know what haunts him. I do not know if I would be able to help him out, but at least I can try. Met the man that Gramps talked to. He acted sort of strangely. Oh, we met at the library. I happened to go there a lot. I like libraries. They're always so quiet and they have a lot of books. Books make me happy. Well, anyways, I talked to the man. He was a bit bewildered that a teenager would be talking to him. I asked him about the old man with the book. He didn't know what happened, but he said he can't remember anything from his childhood. Nothing, zip, nada. No matter how much he racked his brains, he can't find the memories. I remembered one segment that talked about The Minotaur. The man speculated that The Minotaur was just a deformed child whose father sent away. Those children that were sacrificed as food for The Minotaur, well, they died of starvation. Then Theseus slays The Minotaur for sport. I really wanna get Cthulhutech. I also need to get some more books, which reminds me. Borders is closing down. Damn, and I haven't even used my giftcard. I will order online from them. I guess I would have to shop at Barnes and Noble. Or I could just order from Amazon, but I don't have the means to. I really want to play Batman Arkham Asylum and Euthanasia. I saw my older brother playing it and thought it looked swell. And, it's free. Also Ryushiki07th is going to release Higabana: the visual novel sometime in August. Oh, hooray. I have got to get some more of his games. I played the first game and even after knowing what happened to everyone, I almost cried. Then the city falls on hard time and the council and Oedipus, I think, had to find out who killed the king. After some arguments and Oedipus threatening a guy, Oedipus finds out he killed the king. He also finds out that the king was his father. His wife finds out about this as well. Oedipus and her both had children together. Oedipus is her son, mind you. So, she goes into her room and kills herself. Anyways, my day has been fairly normal. I think Gramps (I'm going to call him that. It's short enough for me) is somewhere else. Haven't seen him at the library for quite some time. I haven't seen that person he talked to either. I still remember what that person looks like, so I'm sure I will recognize him if I saw him. No dreams of The Rake or Gramps (that was one trippy, geologically messed up, time disorted dream), but then again, I did not get that much sleep. All I can remember from my dream is my brother photoshoping lightning balls and somehow those lightning balls appeared. Very colorful. Also some Angel from Evangelion was there and so were Brian and Meg from Family Guy. Well anyway, my school was on a small island. On the mainland was another school that we students had to go to. Think we had to swim there. And for some reason there was a shit load of ants coming out from a pipe, which I believed was from the kitchen. None of us took notice of it as it was quite natural, apparently. I think they were fire ants. (I used to have an infestation of those bastards. Have thirty or more bites on me at a time.) We had to solve some sort of mystery about where our cook was. Found out he was just chillin on the beach. I think he gave us some food. Then it was time for us to go back to mainland school. My next class was English. I then remembered that I didn't finish my English assignment. It was either skip or suck it up. I chose to suck it up and go to class. Our teacher was that old man. He had that book open on his desk and he was writing in it. His sunglasses were nowhere to be seen. The class was pretty accepting of this man, (if you can |
19 | 6 | call him that) with no eyes. Still better then the original teacher we all figured. Hopefully he didn't know about the assignment. He did. I had to turn it an unfinished paper. Despite having no eyes, his handwriting was remarkably better than my own. Mine, I don't think I was even writing that time. It was just scribbles. I told my mom the next day and she said to stop making up such nonsenses. Monsters don't exist. She said I was just trying to get attention like I always do. One day I woke up to find that one of our cats was torn to pieces. I told my parents that the monster did it, but they did not believe me. They thought that some teenager or dog must have killed the cat. Not some made up monster. He, that man, let me start from the beginning. I got curious. I wanted to see that book. The old man left it on a table. I opened it. Names, there were names in that book and beneath those name stories. I skimmed through it, but I felt a presence behind me. I turned around, still holding that book, and saw the old man staring at me. How long had he been there? I don't know. He could have been there ever since I opened that book. Then why didn't he tell me to stop? I thought he was going to hit me, yell at me for doing something that I shouldn't do, so I panicked. I threw up my hands to protect myself but my hand must have hit his sunglasses. That man, where his eyes should be were holes. Just holes. He had no eyes and yet he was looking at me. He smiled. I gave him his book back. I gave him his sunglasses. No eyes. That thing had eyes. Pitch black eyes and it would always stare at me and I would always hide underneath my blankets so that monster won't get me. I tried telling mommy about that monster but she told me it's not real. She didn't believe me. My dad told me it was my imagination. I tried telling him about the voice, the words of the beast, but he said it could have been the radio. No, mustn't think about that thing. If I don't think about it... Who am I kidding? Ignoring my problem is not going to solve it. But how? I am at the library again. That old man isn't there. Maybe he'll come here later. I did arrive rather early. Let me tell you about my days so far. I slept, ate, read, and drank - nonalcoholic beverages. That's pretty what my life is like. Sometimes I would go out for a walk with my brother, just to get some exercise. I also clean the place, whenever I'm told to. That's pretty much what I do on a regular bases. Sad, I know. I'm looking for a job so I can have some money. Money is a necessity, I really need some. Since I am almost an adult, I need to learn how to get a job. I also need to stop procrastinating on things just because I don't want to do them. I had a dream last night. I can only remember snippets of it. Something about our car turning into a plane, being late for school and trying to catch the bus, that sort of dream. You know the dreams you have where you are someplace doing one thing then you somehow magically end up in another place doing something else. That's how my dreams are most of the time. I remember this one part pretty damn clearly though. There was this room, a house maybe. Blood splatter was on the wall. Bloodied writing was on the wall. They all told about getting out or some such. I remember there was this guy who would take women to that house (I don't know if he drugged and kidnapped them, or tricked them into going there) and he would torture them. It made me afraid of being alone, because what if that man got me but no one was there to save me. I was actually thinking that in my dreams. It was in the woods. The house was. For some reason my dream played like a news report, showing the pictures of the torture equipment and those rooms. That thing is still hunting my dreams. For some reason I'm a child in my dreams. I always cry in my dreams. I'm terrified that the thing would hurt me, and no one would know until it's too late. It always told me things. I never understood it. Then it would leave and I'd wake up, on the floor instead of a bed. We went to Mr. Gattis. I won the least tickets - 360 total. It's more than I usually make, which is about 20 tickets. I am that horrible at the games. Everyone else won about 1, 000. My prize I chose was a skull ball, but I lost it. I'm currently at the library now. No sign of the old man anywhere. |
19 | 7 | I think he might have left already. Oh well, I can always try next week. I cannot wait until tomorrow. I'm going to a party with my younger brother. Then I can eat and play a some games. It'll be fun. Yes, so very fun. I can't remember last night's dream. I don't think I want to remember, except for the fun stuff. Those parts are good to remember. No, I won't try to remember that creature watching me in that pitch black room. I can't see it but I know it's there. No, I'll try to remember that comfy bed instead. With its big blanket that I can hide under so that creature won't get me. I'll remember the warmth of the blanket and not the words of that creature. Oh, remember when I wrote that the library was the only time I got internet connection. What I meant by that was, only one person at my home can use the internet. My older brother is on it most of the time, so my younger brother and I go to the library to get internet connection. I really got to stop procrastinating. I've stopped reading the book for English Class because I'm just not into it. I'm basically having to drag myself along. It really is a pain to read. There are some good parts in the book though. I think most of the problem lies within the fact that I was already reading another book, but chose to stop reading to start reading the one for English. I have to finish that book before August 19. I'm one - third done. I also have to write about some passages that relate to a character of my choosing. I need to start on that. I haven't been to the library, sadly. Not enough gas to get there. I sort of wanted to go, not just to get unlimited internet, but to see that old man again. I don't know why. I think it may be because of that book he was carrying. I want to know what's in it. I want to know what's so special about it. I just want to know. Other news: I had a strange dream involving the Agents of Cracked. I was looking up porn in my dream, but had left my computer, only to find Swaim on it when I got back. It ended up with us talking about porn and ignoring DOB. As the title stated, I am hungry. I only ate a scone today. I probably won't eat much later, considering the lack of good food in my house. On the flip side, you know that old man I recently wrote about. Well, he's been staring in my direction for a while now. In fact, I don't think he ever read to any children. I saw him wandering around the library, with that big book tucked under his arms, and talking to some people about stuff. I don't know what, for I was too busy listening to music, but the other person got this strange look in his eye. That happens to me tons of times. I would be lost in thought, staring, and then I'd realized that I have been staring at someone. Very awkward. Just got back from church. It was meh, as always. Right now, I'm at the library. I only have internet connection when I'm at the library. Went to my grandmother's house yesterday and had dinner. Then I slept, and read a book. I have to read that book for English. Sucks. There's a weird old man at the library. He looks like he can be somebody's grandpa. I can't see his eyes, though. He is wearing sunglasses. Who the hell wears sunglasses in the the library? Oh well. He's also carrying this big book. He must be reading to the children. How sweet. I can't remember last night's dream. I think it had something to do with zombies. Most of my dreams have zombies. They also have me losing my eyesight, but that's a different story. I remember this dream I had as young child. In it, everyone around me were naked. It wasn't the nudity that unnerved me. No, it was when they got close to me with their outstretched arms. That was when things got freaky to say the least, for when they got close to me, parts of their body would explode and blood would be everywhere. I remember that my mom's head exploded while she tried to hug me. Right in front of my very eyes, and yet, she was still walking. Well, that's the extent of my dream. Another dream I had involved a stalker, or stalkers. Two of the most current dreams I had, well I'll describe the first one. There was this woman, she would help out these lost girls. Turns out she was actually manipulating them. The girls would tear out their own flesh, sometimes they would tear out each others. I remember one girl was missing her part of her midsection, her organs were showing, and she was sliding on her stomach, like |
19 | 8 | one of those slip and slides with water, only she was using her own blood. The girls were happy that somebody was paying attention to them. Next thing I knew, I ended up in that woman's class. I got the hell out of there, jumped down to the first floor (the place was like some sort of mall - college hybrid) and ran. The other one took place in a room. It was pitch black, I could not see a thing, but I heard something. Something was watching me and I couldn't see it. I didn't want to see it. I pretended to be asleep in my dream, so that creature would not get me. I think it was trying to say something, but I couldn't understand it, then I woke up. I felt envy towards my dream - self, because I sleep on the floor. Dream - self had a bed. I won't give out my real name, for safety reasons. I am still a teenager. I am interested in becoming either an architect, doctor, or investigator. If you were to see me in real life, you probably would not think much of me, since I rarely talk. People are always surprised to hear me say just one sentence. I blame shyness, and the fact that I'm just not much of a talker. I can write pages and pages on a subject that interest me, but struggle just to describe it to a person. Really sucks when the teacher wants me to describe my thoughts or feelings. Feelings are a tough one for me because of the fact that I don't know what I am feeling. The emotions are always vague. I chose this name for my blog because I really liked Oedipus Rex. Since Oedipus's mother makes an appearance in the House of Death, I put it in my title as well. You see, I'm a fan of mythology, especially Greek Mythology. Read lots and lots of books about it when I was little. |
20 | 0 | Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on November 30, 2011 In unrelated news, I came across this video from my fellow blogger, http: / / www. ty - curious. com /. He shared it with me, and I think it's spectacular. Totally safe for work! Hope you like it! Take the time to check out his blog too. Great guy! He described his drunken night involving too much Patron and a lost iPhone. He hadn't had a chance to track it down, so I offered my assistance to make some phone calls for him. He was grateful, but had it under control. While he described his night, I described my time out in the sticks with no power or technology. "Yeah … It was a real Amish paradise," I said. Once again, I had to facilitate plans with him. He typed, "Okay. Off to go get food. I'm starved." I quickly replied, "What are you doing later?" I knew it would be difficult getting ahold of him the second he signed off for the day. It'd been a while since I'd seen him, and I was anxious to do so. "No plans, although I may go back to the bar tonight for a Halloween thing," he declared. I wish he had the same desire to see me to invite me without provocation, but I'll take what I can get. "Wanna try to get together later?" I asked. "Jump on the bike and come over and have brunch with me," he finally stated. I explained the bike was snowed in with a dead battery, but I told him I'd meet him for brunch. I quickly made my way into the city to meet him at the Christopher Street PATH station. I arrived well before him and waited for him to show. I couldn't call to find out what was keeping him, so I tried to occupy myself with my phone. When he finally arrived, I wasn't greeted with a kiss. I could have initiated the situation myself, but again, I was still in the mindset to play a little hard - to - get. We walked to a nice brunch spot neither of us have tried before, Barbuto. It was great. We got a nice seat next to the kitchen, which in most situations is a bad thing, but in this case, was entertaining. Smiles ordered a beer after wavering between that and a bloody mary to help cure his hangover, and I ordered a glass of red wine. We took the time waiting for the food to arrive to catch up with each other. He was a little quiet, but I had plenty of stories to tell from my time home. We talked a bit about his family as well, and I started to get a better picture of the dynamic going on there. Our food arrived, and we were both very pleased with the results. After we paid our tab, we decided to walk around a bit since the weather was so gorgeous. We walked to Doma Coffee Shop to grab coffees while we walked around. We had no plan for our day. After we grabbed caffeine, he turned to me and asked what I wanted to do. I told him I was just happy to be out, and it didn't matter to me what we did. We started to walk around aimlessly. When we came upon Pleasure Chest sex shop, he suggested we pop in. This wasn't the first time walking into a sex shop with him. I was game. We spent the rest of the afternoon walking around SoHo looking for hats to replace the one he lost. I was happy to spend the day with him. We did some shopping for other things while we searched for hats. While I was checking out to pay for the flannel shirt I picked up, I could see in his eyes he was exhausted. He was fading fast. He suggested we go back to his place to take a nap. I myself wasn't feeling very sleepy, but I rather liked the idea of napping with him. We got back to his place and climbed into bed. I put on my new flannel and got comfortable. Surprisingly, I passed out rather quickly. He, on the other hand had a hard time falling asleep. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. After about an hour, we were both awake. He turned to face away from me, so I decided to make a move. I engulfed him in my arms and spooned with him. After some time passed, I gently began caressing him all over and slid my hand between his thighs. I began massaging him until he turned his head back to kiss me. It was on - FINALLY! Things only got more passionate from there. It wasn't long before he pulled out a condom, put it on me, and climbed on top. I was finally getting my turn as top dog (even though I was on the bottom). The sex was good, and I enjoyed having sex facing him with the lights on. However, once again, he finished, and I wasn't able to. Embarrassment came flooding in. I was very |
20 | 1 | attracted to him, and I enjoyed the sex, but something underlying wasn't allowing me to relax and fully enjoy the moment. I was very close, but I just couldn't get over that last hump (no pun intended). This wasn't the first time this happened, but it certainly didn't make it any easier to deal with. After sex, we both showered and cleaned up. He had plans to meet friends at his favorite restaurant to say goodbye to a bartender friend who was leaving for another restaurant. I was a little curious why he didn't extend an invitation, but I didn't want to dwell on it. We made some progress, and I wanted to concentrate on the positive. I was doing my best to play hard - to - get, but I really liked him. I wanted this to continue. I wanted to get to know him more. I wanted to be closer to him physically. I wanted him. When he got back from the bar, he messaged again to tell me he had no luck. I felt bad for him, but selfishly, all I could think about was how hard it was going to be to get ahold of him without a phone. The next couple of days would pose an interesting challenge. There was already no chance Smiles and I would see each other. However, we did get to chat on the phone briefly. He had to do work with his film, and I would be working until the wee hours of the morning to finalize the content for the pitch. I didn't end up leaving my office until 1: 30am. I really wanted to see him Tuesday. I wasn't going to be around the rest of the week, and whenever I have a long work pitch or long work trip, I look forward to decompressing with a sexy guy, even if it doesn't involve sex. I asked him if we could do something, but he already made plans. I was heading home Wednesday for my grandfather's funeral. It was going to be a while before I got to see him again, and I was really disappointed. Things were really getting strained between us, at least on my end. We weren't having sex as often as I'd like, and I was constantly on a roller - coaster of emotions. Smiles would pay a lot of attention to me and make me feel great, and then retract and shy away from me. I didn't know how much more I could take it. I decided I was going to play hard - to - get. I wasn't going to text or call at all. If he still wanted to see me, he was going to have to put in the effort. I was at my emotional breaking point. This was no easy task for me. I struggled with it. I carried my phone with me everywhere I went in case he tried to call or text, but it was silent. Part of me wondered if he thought it was a very personal family time, and he just didn't want to bother me. But, the bigger part of me thought he had other things with which he was preoccupied. Finally, Thursday he texted me to see how I was doing. It was progress. He was texting to check up on me, and I appreciated it. I texted him back after some time passed. When Friday came about, he called and left a message. It was impeccable timing. I was just about to walk into the funeral parlor when my phone began ringing. After the viewing, I stepped out from the family gathering and called him back. We had a nice conversation. The following day, I went to the funeral. Afterwards, I came home. I have awful cell service at my parents' house. I finally managed to get signal by using the Wi - Fi. Ironically, right after I texted him, we lost power in the snow storm, so if he responded, I couldn't read it if I tried. I was home with no power, no internet, no phone and no TV. It had snowed about a foot outside, so we were trapped. On top of it, I was missing the Halloween festivities with my friends back in Hoboken. I wasn't heartbroken about that, but I was disappointed. Instead, I spent the day shaking snow off trees so the branches wouldn't break. I was really feeling ignored overall by Smiles. The time away wasn't a good thing for me. It was making me realize how little attention he was paying to me. I started to think about some of the other prospects I had spoken to. I could have pursued LES, but he was young and lived in an inconvenient part of town. There were a few guys who were still sending me messages on OKCupid. While I wasn't seeking out anyone new, I maintained communication with them. I was now beginning to think about them as prospects. All I knew was I deserved better. Was I just jumping the gun? Was it still early with him? I personally thought we should have been over that hump, and if he was interested in me, he'd want to spend more time with me. When Sunday arrived, my sister and |
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